by Susan Thomas
Emma visited the Ladies' before leaving the dinner dance. There in the privacy of a cubicle she removed her knickers and squeezed them into her small clutch bag. Tom met her in the foyer and as they walked to the taxi she whispered, "I haven't got any knickers on."
Tom was as predictable as most men and she knew that would excite him; once they were in the front door he wouldn't be able to keep his hands off her. Unless their babysitter Melissa was still downstairs, he'd probably have her there in the hall on that beautiful rug in the centre. Emma found that very exciting and an added frisson was the possibility that Melissa might hear them come in and come to the top of the stairs. Emma imagined the girl standing at the top of the stairs looking down and seeing her with her dress right up, her legs spread wide and Tom rutting away like some stallion.
She knew it was fantasy but delicious fantasy; the chances of Melissa hearing them, or coming out of her room if she did, were slim. Melissa was hyper alert to the children but oblivious to all else as she engaged in her Internet socialisation. What were they going to do when the girl went off to university? She was already eighteen and the children adored her; she would be hard to replace.
Emma felt Tom's hands on her and she reached out to him. Yes, he was hard already, a large solid bulge in his trousers that promised much for her. She giggled and Tom squeezed her breast gently. She went back to her fantasies. There was more to her fantasy than just that, it extended into something that made Emma tingle all over and always added to their sex life, even though Tom had no idea what she was fantasising about. Melissa would come to the top of the stairs and for a minute or two watch their love making then she would return to her room. Tom would finish up and then stomp up the stairs (followed by her) and tell Melissa off for standing watching. Then yanking down those short, skimpy pyjama bottoms the girl wore whenever she stayed over, place her across his knee before spanking her bare bottom hard. Emma would protest that he mustn't do it but he would take no notice.
Emma had never seen Melissa's bare bottom, but based on her general figure and attractiveness imagined it to be have a beautiful smooth skin-texture and to be round, shapely and firm. In her fantasy, Tom would finish spanking the sobbing apologetic girl and then, turning to his wife, march her off to the bedroom for a spanking because she had tried to stop him exercising his manly rights as head of the household. She knew it was all nonsense of course, but that fantasy and others of a similar nature made her feel extremely randy.
When they opened the front door, every light was off except the hall light; Melissa was clearly up in her room. Tom lifted her right off her feet and, kicking the door shut with his heel, carried her into the centre of the hall and laid her down carefully on the hall rug. Emma giggled as he lifted her dress and cleared it right up around her hips. He undid his trousers, releasing what Emma called his 'cannon' and entered her. Tom was an unsubtle lover but what he lacked in subtlety he more than made up for with power and energy. He rode her hard. Emma loved every second of it, her intense orgasm shown by the way her legs wrapped around him, holding him tightly into her, and by the cry that must surely be heard upstairs in Melissa's room.
Emma's enjoyment was enhanced by the risk... a tiny risk to be sure... that Melissa would come out and catch them. She did not of course, and like two teenagers who have tricked parents and 'done it', they giggled their way upstairs and into their bedroom. It took a while for them to shower and get ready for bed with Emma much slower than Tom. By the time she was in her silk pyjamas, Tom was in bed with the smug smile of a man who has performed well and knows it. By the time she came back from checking on the children he would probably be asleep.
She crept softly into Harry's room. The six year old had, as usual, kicked off all covers and was sleeping across the bed. It was pointless covering him, he would only kick them off again, and if he got cold he'd simply wake, pull the covers over him and go straight back to sleep. She kissed him gently and tiptoed out. Sophie, just five, was almost invisible so wrapped up was she and clutching her favourite teddy. Emma kissed her hair as it was the only really accessible part. It was as she was softly closing Sophie's door that she heard the sound.
What was that? She couldn't work it out, and it was clearly muffled so either in a room or outside the house. There it was again. Emma wondered if she had been fantasising too much about spanking because to her it sounded like the smack of something hard on a bare bottom. She stood, trying to locate it again. There it was, surely it was a smack on a bare bottom? It seemed to be coming from Melissa's room. Emma crept softly to the door of the room they gave to Melissa when she stayed over for the night, and put her ear to it. Smack! There it was again.
Emma was outraged. The girl must have someone in there with her. That just wasn't on. How dare she bring some unknown person into her house with her children in it! Smack! There it was again, this time with a soft ouch to go with it. That alarmed her. Suppose someone was hurting Melissa? She, Emma, had a duty of care towards the girl. With these thoughts burning her mind she grasped the handle and threw the door open only to stand still with shock. Melissa was lying face down on the end of the bed, her pyjama bottoms down around her ankles, her feet touching the floor. In her hand was a wooden hairbrush held awkwardly behind her and, when Melissa opened the door, she was bringing it down to smack on the right cheek of her bottom.
Time changed... every second became elongated allowing for much thinking. For Emma the first half second was unthinking shock. In the half second that followed came realisation that Melissa was spanking herself. Then her memory kicked in and she recalled that she had read of self-spanking and even seen a couple of videos that young women had made of themselves where they spanked their own bottoms, faces neatly out of camera. Two seconds of intense thought and in the third second she saw an opportunity and finally made a decision.
In those three seconds, Melissa gasped with horror, dropped the hairbrush, shot to her feet and frantically pulled up her pyjama bottoms. She began to babble apologies which Emma silenced with her hand as she shut the door carefully behind her and walked across the room. Emma knew there was risk in what she was doing but she couldn't stop herself... she wanted her fantasies to come true. She sat down on the end of the bed, picked up the hairbrush and began to speak in a calm 'mummy' type voice.
"Well now, Melissa, I do understand what you were doing. You must have been a very naughty girl with a very bad conscience to want to spank yourself, but I don't think you will make a very effective job of it, do you?"
The intelligent eighteen year old babysitter looked bewildered and could only shake her head slightly which might have meant anything.
"I think," Emma continued judiciously, "it would be much better if I spanked you instead. Now we certainly don't need those between Mr Hairbrush and your bottom, much better down I think."
With that, Emma delicately pulled the girl's pyjama bottoms down leaving them roughly at the knees where they began to slip further down as if agreeing with her.
"Come along now, young lady, get over my knees."
Emma knew this was a critical point. Melissa could easily react badly and start screaming that she was being abused or many other accusations, but Emma kept her firm 'mummy' look and patted her knee gently. Melissa carefully began to place herself over Emma's knees with no comment whatsoever.
When she was correctly positioned, Melissa spoke nervously, "It won't be too hard will it, Mrs Jackson?"
"Oh dear, Melissa, naughty girls do need to know they've been spanked, now don't they?" she replied, but she wasn't going to be too fierce, it really wasn't a good idea.
Emma looked down at the bottom so perfectly positioned on her lap. It was as she had imagined: smooth, shapely, firm but with pinky red splotches where Melissa had smacked the brush against her bottom. She couldn't resist running a hand over it and, just as she'd thought, it was softly smooth but firm, well exercised. There was no heat so clearly the self spanking had not been going on long. Emma brought the brush down crisply on the girl's bottom... not really hard but not lightly either. There was a delicious smacking sound and the girl yelped softly and her legs jerked. A much more satisfying red mark appeared.
"That's much better isn't it, Melissa? We'll soon have you spanked properly," she said, and to follow that remark she brought the brush down again with a nice crisp smack.
Emma kept up a nice steady pace, smack, smack and smack. Not fast, not slow, not too hard, not too soft. Her reward was a girl whose bottom rippled delightfully with each smack while becoming a more solid red colour rather than the pinkish splodges. Melissa made soft little "ows" and "ouches" at each smack of the brush, and her legs stretched and her feet curled as the spanking continued. Emma watched carefully, she didn't want to overdo it, and when the colour of the bottom was a nice hot red all over and Melissa's wriggles were becoming decidedly more agitated while her little cries grew louder, Emma decided to stop. She placed her hand on the bottom before her. Yes it was good and warm now. Most satisfactory.
"Well now, Melissa, do you think you've been spanked enough for now?"
"Yes, Mrs Jackson."
Emma allowed the girl up, unsure now how she would react once up on her feet. Melissa craned her head round to look at her bottom and rubbed it gently. Then she turned to Emma and, putting her arms around her, gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
"Thank you for spanking me, Mrs Jackson."
Emma smiled and then handed the hairbrush to Melissa. "Make sure you bring it with you next time you stay over. I might need it again."
The girl's face was impassive as she replied, "Yes Mrs Jackson," but her eyes sparkled with delight and Emma left feeling elated. Now, would Tom still be awake?
Tom was indeed awake. Sitting up in bed and looking worried.
"Where the hell have you been? I was on the point of looking for you. Are the kids OK?"
For such a big strong man he really was like an old maid where the children were concerned.
"The children are fine, sound asleep. It was Melissa; I found her spanking herself with a hairbrush so I took over and spanked her myself."
Tom's face was almost comical as Emma walked towards her dressing table and, rooting in a drawer, brought out her grandmother's wooden hairbrush that she kept for sentimental reasons.
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