by Jacqueline Scott
It was a small room, sparsely furnished, but perfectly adequate for its purpose. For anybody looking in (extremely unlikely as the room is on the top floor of the building), its purpose would immediately become clear. For in the centre of the room was a man, naked and bent over from the waist, his hands clasped round his ankles. To achieve that position he had his legs apart so that his genitals could be seen. He appeared to have an erection to some extent... not a fully hard one, but nonetheless, he was undoubtedly excited.
Standing slightly behind and to the left of the man was a woman dressed all in black, holding a cane. The woman's name is Anne Grey. She is 35 years old and has been a widow for six years. She became involved in this activity almost by accident but over the years has found it both satisfying and reasonably remunerative.
Her client on this occasion was quite young... probably in his late twenties or early thirties, whereas most of her clients tended to be much older men. She gazed at the bare bottom - she was in no hurry to start; the client paid her well and there was no point in getting it over too quickly. She noticed a red spot on the inside of one of his cheeks and wondered if she should mention it - some antiseptic cream might prevent it from developing into a boil - but then mentally shrugged, she wasn't his mother! She laid the cane gently on his bottom and felt him tense. Then she raised her arm high in the air, paused to allow the tension to increase, kept her eye carefully on her intended target area, and then...
SWAAACK!
The cane descended and cracked into the unprotected bottom. The young man gasped and bent his knees slightly as the white line across his bottom quickly turned to red. Ms Grey paused and allowed him time to recover and think about the next stripe.
Five more times over the next twenty minutes or so the cane flashed down and five more red lines appeared on the bare buttocks. Anne was pleased with the way she was able to aim precisely so that none of the strikes landed on a previous one. To achieve that, one had to be very accurate. It was possible with only six, more than that made it much harder.
When it was over she spoke briefly to the client, assuring him that he could now get dressed. He rose and turned to her, erection now rather less prominent, thanked her and walked rather stiffly over to the tiny dressing area that she had created from a couple of screens. Once he was dressed he emerged, thanked her and they shook hands. She gave him a small card with her contact details in case he wished to visit her again, and then he left her.
Anne Smart married Damian Grey when she was 23. Although she had been to what was regarded as a good school, it wasn't in the same league as Damian's - one of the top public schools in England. His family was hugely rich and Damian, several years older than Anne, already made plenty of money on his own account working in an investment bank in the city. They bought a house in Surrey and although Anne had intended to follow a career of her own, somehow the idea was lost in the excitement, marriage, and setting up home together. Nonetheless she was happy. She found ways of filling her days, their sex life was good and they had a large circle of friends, although later she realised that nearly all of them were Damian's friends.
They had been married for nearly three years when Anne did something that turned out to have a major effect on her life, although she didn't know that at the time. It was a simple slap... a simple slap on Damian's bottom when they were going to bed one night. Anne had always been a tactile person, and when Damian was naked and bent down to pick something off the floor, she giggled and gave his bottom a firm smack.
He stood up, turned and looked at her and asked, "What brought that on?"
Anne giggled again and responded, "Oh I just thought it looked a lovely spankable bum... so I gave it a spank!"
He didn't say anything else but their sex that night seemed to have an added zest to it. A week later as they were going to bed Damian said, "Why don't you spank my bottom again?"
Anne looked at him, surprised by the request, but when she saw from his face that while he was embarrassed by the request, he clearly meant it, she agreed, saying, "If you want me to... do you want to come over Mummy's lap?"
Looking back she was never clear why she put it like that, but within a minute Damian was lying across her lap while she sat on the bed. As the feel of his penis suggested to her that he was turned on she continued, "Mummy's very cross with you, Damian. You deserve a really hard spanking." Then she smacked his bottom half a dozen times, perhaps slightly harder than her first effort the week before.
She was surprised again when he then said, "Keep going... and harder please."
Not really sure what she was getting into, she did as he asked, peppering his bottom with firm spanks until his buttocks had turned a deepish pink. She knew from his reaction the spanking was turning him on even more... and to her great surprise, it was turning her on as well.
Eventually she said, "Enough of this Damian, I want to be fucked... hard." He proceeded to do just that.
That was the start. From then on their lovemaking was almost always preceded by a form of spanking for Damian. It wasn't long before he suggested that she might care to use something more than her hand, and soon a hairbrush, a slipper, and then an old table tennis bat that she found when clearing out a cupboard became part of the routine. All of these tied in with the 'Mummy' theme that she had begun completely by accident. Damian soon wanted her to use other things, however, and in due course a leather strap and a cane were added to Anne's implements. Realising that it would be unusual for a mother to use a cane, she changed her scenario to a school and again her husband responded to that with considerable gusto. The cane also took a bit of getting used to, but Damian taught her to use both her arm and, just before contact, her wrist, and she gradually became quite proficient.
She was a bit nervous about asking him why he was turned on by such treatment and decided not to enquire, but she assumed that it provoked memories. She had met his mother often enough and found her very pleasant, but now, thinking about it from a different perspective, she realised that there was a certain steeliness about her... perhaps she had indeed been very strict with her son while he was growing up. As for the school thing, Damian had gone to a very expensive public school, and from what Anne had read such establishments made considerable use of the cane when enforcing discipline. Mentally, Anne shrugged her shoulders. If this was what he wanted she was reasonably happy to provide it. She found herself enjoying the sense of power that it gave her and there was no doubt that she was turned on by the whole thing, although she had no wish to be the one being thrashed! Sometimes she missed some of the more gentle intimate exchanges that they used to have, although post-coital experiences sometimes compensated, and anyway, if this was what it took to keep him happy, then so be it.
Then her whole world changed suddenly. It was so horribly simple and stupid. One Saturday morning Damian went out to get a newspaper and some rolls... and never returned. He was knocked down by a speeding motorist while crossing a road, and never recovered consciousness. It turned out that the driver was intoxicated. When the case came to court he tried to persuade the authorities that Damian had stepped right out in front of him but eyewitnesses stated quite firmly that that had not been the case and in due course the man went to jail. That was of no consolation to Anne; she was bereft.
Damian had left her very well off. Life insurance paid off the mortgage on the house and his work pension gave her a good income, although not nearly as much as if Damian was still alive. In addition, Damian had a trust fund from his parents that yielded a reasonable income although its main objective was to generate capital growth. There was no need, therefore, for her to rush out and try and find a job to make ends meet. His friends, and those of her own who she still kept in touch with, rallied round her as best they could, and gradually she came to terms with what had happened.
It was one evening, almost a year after Damian's death, that she was sitting at home chatting with Leonard Chapman, Damian's best friend and best man at their wedding. Leonard had visited her regularly, trying to make sure that she was all right. They had been talking about a range of things in no particular order, when Anne said, "I think I really need to get a job, Len. I'm going to go round the bend otherwise." He nodded and asked her if she had anything in mind. "Not really. Maybe something part-time to start with... sort of break myself in gradually. I never finished my degree, you know, so it's not that I have any real qualifications."
They sat in silence for a while and then Leonard said, "This might be quite out of order, Anne, and please don't jump down my throat if it is, but Damian talked to me about a particular skill that you do have... and... well I was wondering."
She looked at him blankly. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Len, and this waffling isn't like you. Spit it out!"
He hesitated a bit and then began. "Well... please remember what I said. This was Damian and me chatting. But he told me how you spanked him... properly I mean... using all sorts of things. He said you were amazing... it was as if you were born to it. I just wondered..."
Face scarlet now, Anne interrupted him. "Damian talked to you about what we did together? For goodness sake, did he tell the whole world?! Oh my God, Len, how could he do such a thing?"
"No, no, no! Don't take it like that, Anne. It was only him and me. Oh God, I wish I hadn't started this."
"Well you did start it, Leonard Chapman, so you had better give me the full story... miss nothing out. I think I am entitled to know the whole story!"
"All right... just don't keep jumping in. Let me tell you in my own time. And remember it was Damian who told me... I didn't go quizzing him, so don't shoot the messenger. OK?"
So Anne listened as Len explained how he and Damian had always had a bit of a fetish about being punished; he put it down to their prep school when they were sometimes punished by the matron, and they both received the cane at school.
"We always seemed to be getting into trouble," said Leonard, and went on to explain that it had led them to start visiting a woman from time to time who charged them money to have their bottoms spanked.
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