by LSF Publications
by Quentin Quillis
I've been on a job in Madrid and living in a hotel again. The project I'm working on is fairly large, and there are folks from France, England, America and of course Spain. Conferences and meetings with all those languages represented are interesting to say the least. I'm fairly fluent in French and my Spanish is passable, but how can you understand the British? Anyway, the bottom line is that I can't just fly home every weekend, but most of us on the project are staying at the same place, so there is always company for dinner or sightseeing. However, being part of the slightly older set, I don't much care for going out drinking and carousing every night, and the few of us with similar feelings tend to hang around together.
There was one other American in that group, a middle aged woman named Nora. We had been talking about the trials and tribulations of the consultant's life and I said it must be worse for a woman to dine alone since she may inadvertently attract unwanted male attention. She rather coldly replied that nothing of the sort had ever happened to her, and I understood why. She was the most un-sexy woman I can recall meeting. There was nothing physically wrong with her face or figure, and her personality was quite pleasant once you got to know her, but she had an air of unapproachability that overpowered any trace of femininity.
However, I wasn't looking for sex, just companionship, and since we shared the same language and culture we were together a lot. In fact, one of the younger workers commented that he thought we were married. We laughed it off and I tried to imagine this unpassionate woman sharing my bed every night. I just couldn't see it but she had been married for twenty years so I guess her husband, Sam, found something in her that I overlooked.
There was a much younger woman from Nora's consulting firm who went to some of the tourist attractions with us but she talked constantly about her boyfriend. She was twenty-four years old, very much in love and he was all that Connie talked about. We heard how Mark did this and Mark said that and Mark was going to move in with her and Mark was ... You get the picture. One day she went off with the younger crowd which left Nora and me to wander about the streets alone. That's when Nora shared her true feelings about Mark. She had met him and thought he was a shiftless, uncaring young man who never remembered things like Valentine's Day, Christmas or Connie's birthday, and it seemed that Mark saw Connie as an easy lay and a free meal ticket since he seemed incapable of holding a job. Nora truly cared for the girl and wished she could get her to see Mark as an irresponsible parasite before she got hurt. She was working up a good tirade and said that what Connie really needed was a damn good spanking to wake her up.
As you can guess, my ears perked up immediately and I said, "I understand your feelings, but most people would think her a bit old to get a punishment of that nature."
She was still upset about Connie and wasn't thinking clearly as she answered, "Tell that to my husband. As far as he's concerned no female is too old to get a spanking when she needs it."
She realized what she'd said and turned beet red. I probably should've ignored it but I said, "I know it's none of my business, but you don't have to put up with that you know. You have no children and a good job. Why don't you leave him?"
She looked surprised and said, "Why? Just because he spanks me? As long as it's out in the open, that's what keeps me close to him. I need his discipline and he's never punished me when I didn't agree that it was necessary, but can we talk about something else?"
I pointed out an interesting building and we went back to our sightseeing until we came to a statue of a naked woman. When we stopped to look at it she said, "That reminds me. I forgot to stop the newspaper delivery before I came here."
I'll admit it, I couldn't make the connection so I asked why that statue made her think of newspapers. She blushed and said, "Sam was on a trip when I left and when he came home there were five newspapers on our front porch. That's an open invitation to burglars and we were lucky nobody broke into the house."
Her explanation didn't go far in enlightening me so I asked, "And the statue?"
Now she really blushed and whispered, "The statue is dressed the way I'll be, and looks like she could be getting ready to bend over for what I can expect from Sam when I get home, since it was my responsibility and I screwed up."
I apologized for pushing too hard with my questions and making her talk about 'that subject' again but she shrugged. "Don't be sorry. It's been on my mind and I've needed to tell someone. Since I've already opened my big mouth about getting spanked I figured I could tell you the rest. I hope I haven't shocked you."
We sat on a bench and I said, "It would take more than that to shock me, and I get the feeling you'd like to tell me more. How does he spank you?"
She looked around and there was nobody in sight. Even if there was, they probably wouldn't understand her so she said, "This is embarrassing and I've never told anyone about it but if you really want to know..."
She trailed off and I encouraged her to go on.
"First of all, my spankings are never a surprise. I know when I've done something to deserve getting punished and if he isn't already aware of it, I usually tell him what it was. I've tried keeping some of my sins secret in the hope that he wouldn't find out, but it's never worked. He knows me too well and can tell when I'm hiding something. When he has to probe to find out what's bothering me, I can count on an immediate spanking for trying to avoid the proper punishment. That rarely happens any more, but I'm getting off the subject. Once it's established that I need it he decides on either the belt or the hairbrush and we wait at least one full day so I can think about what I've done and what he'll do to help me correct my behavior.
"Because of our work schedules there are times when the next day is not convenient so we have to make a later appointment. I never thought about it but in a way it's funny. The two of us with our calendars out and trying to find a time we can mutually agree on for me to get spanked. Anyway, I get to choose from the first three days he has available and if I can't make it I get an extra swat for every day I go beyond that without proper retribution. When I agreed with those terms I wasn't considering being stuck 5,000 miles away and it will be three weeks until we're together. He understands that I have no control over the travel plans on this trip, but the extras will add up anyway. Every day I think of how much worse the punishment is going to be."
She stopped and curiosity got the better of me so I asked, "What happens when you finally meet for your appointment?"
She looked around again and asked, "Do I really have to tell you that?"
I detected a vulnerability in her that I had not seen before. Along with it was a form of submissiveness that was very out of character. Rather than just refuse to relate this very personal part of her relationship with her husband she wanted my permission. The question was, permission to do what? Stay silent or be 'forced' to expose her secrets? I chose the latter and commanded, "Yes. Tell me everything and don't even try to gloss over the slightest detail."
She waited a minute and I wondered if I had overstepped my bounds but then she said, "The appointment is not only for a specific day but for a definite time. That's when he'll come into the bedroom. I must be nude like that statue and waiting with my nose in a corner. I hate that. The spankings I can accept. Just because I'm a mature woman doesn't mean I don't need a physical reminder from time to time to keep me honest but the corner business makes me feel like a little girl. I'm supposed to stay in that spot for ten minutes before he arrives. I tried waiting till I heard him approach once but he knew from my whole attitude that I hadn't obeyed him.
"Our schedules were open so it was easy to arrange another appointment the next evening to deal with my sneakiness. I had only one day to recover from the spanking I got that night with the hairbrush before I got another with the belt. So like it or not, I do what I have to and I'm reduced to a little girl every time. I don't expect the spankings to hurt any less but just once I'd like to be treated more like a grown-up first.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't complain. He says the extra humiliation is good for me and I suppose he's right. If it was only a spanking it might not go as far in convincing me to be more careful. Be that as it may, all I can see is the wall as he lectures me. That's another thing I don't like. I know damn well why I'm going to be punished and don't need him to remind me but it's part of the humiliating little girl routine. Finally, he says he's ready to give me the spanking for making the appointment."
She must have seen the confusion on my face because she explained, "No matter what I've done wrong I always get spanked for the simple fact that I've let my self-discipline lapse. That's the way we always start. An old-fashioned over the knee hand spanking, and since it's supposed to be a punishment in its own right he makes it a good one. I can tell you it's not any fun at all but then again, it isn't supposed to be. Then I pile the pillows on the bed and lay across them. Over the lap is good enough for the first spanking but he can cover more territory by striking from one side and then the other as he addresses the specific reason for the appointment with the hairbrush or the belt."
I asked, "How long does that last?"
She sighed. "Twenty-five strokes. More if do something stupid like try to cover my bottom with my hands which I learned not to do a long time ago, and then any extras I've earned for delaying the spanking. When I get home I'll have almost fifty strokes waiting for me and it will be with the belt. I wish there was some way I could go home early or get him to come here so I could get it over with and avoid at least some of those extras.
"After the hand spanking even a light swat with the belt or the hairbrush would be agony. Of course, he wouldn't think of depriving me of the full benefit of the punishment so there's nothing gentle about the way he uses either of them. He goes slow so I have time to reflect on every stroke and anticipate the next..."
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