She stood in the doorway, one hand resting on its' framework, the other on the edge of the half opened door. Her white blouse rippling slightly in the early evening breeze, showing just the very top of a tight cleavage. I'd checked on my watch just a few moments before, eight o' clock on the dot. Now I stood facing her, her glasses perched at the very end of a pencil thin nose.
'You are on time Gary, that is a good start, please, come on in.' She pushed the door ajar a little more so as to allow me entry but did not move from her position. As I carefully brushed past her I caught the whiff of her perfume, not unpleasant, and yet familiar, like a woodland just after a rain shower. My mind was immediately brought back to earth as a slap landed on my left bottom cheek, her words quickly following, 'hurry along boy, we haven't got all day!'
The door closed behind me and I paused to allow her to overtake me in the hallway, her pace was slow and quite deliberate as I followed her to a large open planned living room. I have to admit I could not take my eyes off her petite but rounded bottom as it jostled beneath her black cotton skirt. Loins tingling and the beginnings of an erection was pressing ever harder on my trouser front.
Having lead me to the far end of the living room, she then turned, pointed at a desk and chair that was nestled alongside the wall, then simply said, 'sit.' Complying without a word, I saw on the desk several blank sheets of paper and a pencil. I then heard her put something down on the floor behind me and so turning my head, I saw her sitting on a wooden wicker backed chair, not more than four feet away from me. She glared at me, her glasses now gone, but in her hand she held a black, oblong shaped paddle. Square silver studs on one side, but as she patted her other hand with it, I could see the other side was plain.
'Turn around boy, you will write down ten reasons as to why I should not spank you with this paddle and you have five minutes to do so.'
The very word 'spank' only increased the pressure down below and with inner devil now fully awakened, I simply wrote down, 'because I will enjoy it', and put down my pencil.
Five minutes is an interminably long time to wait, knowing full well that I was about to be turned over her knee with a hard on and so, I tried desperately to think of grannies undies on a washing line or muddy rugby shirts in a pile on the changing room floor. Anything to get this pounding member to relax.
The noise of a chair moving slightly then a wisp of breath in my hair told me she was immediately behind me. Buttocks clenched a little as she leaned over and took the paper from the desktop. Expecting a storm to hit, I dipped my head slightly into my shoulders and inwardly cringed.
'Well then my boy, I shall make it my goal to ensure that you don't enjoy it, come here now!'
The last three words spoken in louder, harsher terms, as she sat back down again.
'Strip,' her words not registering in my head, I blinked and was about to say 'what?' when she repeated the instruction. 'Strip, now boy!'
Face flushed a hot crimson, I began unbuttoning my shirt, hoping that the delay would buy time for willy to die down. But alas, by the time my pants were the only thing left, her patience snapped. With a swift tug and a momentary snag, they were down, but male member had sprung back up.
'You won't have that for much longer boy, over my knee.'
My focus not on her knees but on the bare thighs, half clad in black stockings, I lowered myself over, purposely pressing my cock against her left thigh. The cold surface of the paddle against my bottom suddenly left and then smacked down with a sting and a crack that made me flinch, eyes shut and mouth open, there was no time for the first burn to set in before the second one cracked down. The pain and heat growing with every spank, my breath increasing almost to a panting, I could stand my silence no longer. Ows became howls and then oaths of the gutter. But still she would not relent, the blows harder with every swear word I uttered. My squirming and writhing over her knee must have been some signal to her that the spanking should cease. Either that or she was just plain worn out herself. Whatever the reason, she now rested her hand on my burning hot buttock, her torso also heaving up and down as mine was. The pause, most welcome as it was, but I knew in my heart of hearts that all was not over. I waited for her to speak.
'Stand up and get over to that corner boy,' she said with a somewhat breathless voice. Six paces later and I was facing a cool blue painted wall, my hands just begging to rub back some feeling into my pulsating bottom, but instead they instinctively went to rest on my head.
Then the chair behind me moved again.........
Kind regards,
Garyntboy.
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