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Women
Spanking Men
Good
Neighbor Policy by Darol, Femdom, Spanking
An 18 year old boy
hardly needs a babysitter, but this one does. She comes with
strict instructions and a spanking paddle from mom. And this
young lady knows exactly what he needs!
Copyright
(c) 2005 by Darol, all rights reserved, not for sale.
As a
successful career diplomat one of my duties is to see to it that
our country has good relations with its neighbors. The work
requires discipline and tact qualities I’ve acquired, but only
through long and sometimes arduous effort. Looking back I can
see that a particular coming-of-age experience helped shape my
character and career.
My Summer of 42 initiation into the mysteries of the female
heart actually took place in the mid 1950’s. I had just turned
18 and was spending my last summer at home before going off to
college in the fall. I was physically mature, but somewhat
immature emotionally, and though strongly attracted to women was
awkward in their presence. Our next door neighbor, Sheila, was a
very attractive woman in her early thirties. Tall, trim, and
tan, she was friendly, and was always doing favors for mom and
our other neighbors. A year earlier, having been married about
six months, she lost her husband to a light plane crash in the
Yukon Territory, and was currently on leave from her job as a
high school English instructor. Sheila was like a big sister or
aunt often babysitting the neighborhood kids, and I can’t
remember a single one of us whom she hadn’t seen getting swatted
from time to time at home, or whom she hadn’t addressed with her
Board of Education at school. Consequently we weren’t shy around
her.
Her beauty, friendliness, and girlish energy were endlessly
fascinating to me. When my mother told me I would be staying
with her over the weekend while she and dad traveled on family
business, I saw it as an opportunity to find out if my
fascination with Sheila’s beauty was more than skin deep.
That Friday evening mom helped me pack an overnight bag, and to
my discomfort included her big ebony hairbrush...the one she had
so often used to set fire to my fanny. I protested, but mom
looked me sternly in the eye stating “Your behavior hasn’t been
the best these last few days, young man. I’m going to give
Sheila my permission and encouragement to use this liberally on
your bare bottom if you get out of line with her! Now off to bed
with you!” I didn’t sleep much that night dreaming of Sheila
applying that awful brush to my bare as… a disturbing yet
compelling prospect that at one point during the night resulted
in a drenching wet dream. At daybreak I awoke to an insistent
hardon which I promptly relieved. After breakfast mom escorted
me to Sheila’s house.
It was a balmy summer day. Sheila, fresh, alert, and smiling
greeted us openly. Mom responded by explaining how long she and
dad would be gone, and where they could be reached if necessary.
She then opened my overnight bag, and while commenting that it
contained everything needed to suitably care for me, reached in,
drew out the hairbrush, and handed it over to Sheila saying “I
just don’t understand how a recent high school graduate like
Teddy can behave so childishly. I swear at times I think he
purposely provokes me to paddle him. Surely he can’t enjoy
getting spanked given the way he squirms and protests when
across my knees.
“In any case, if he misbehaves in the least little way, I want
you to you to spank his bare backside soundly. Mind there’s no
reason to put off a paddling until we return.”
Looking at me, Sheila placed her arm affectionately around my
shoulder, and weighing the implement speculatively in her hand,
said softly “I understand completely Mrs. Hardwicke, and if
necessary won’t hesitate to use stern measures. However, I have
lots of attractive activities planned to keep Teddy out of
trouble. I’m sure we’ll get on famously.” She gave me a quick
glance, and saw that I was blushing. Returning her attention to
mom, she thanked her and wished her a safe trip. Mom passed the
overnight to me. As she departed, Sheila tapping the brush on
her palm, turned to me and smiled warmly. I felt like melting on
the spot.
That morning Sheila and I worked in her garden and yard. The
weather was blooming. I enjoyed just being outdoors with her,
but couldn’t help notice how finely she filled out her tight,
faded jeans. The shape of her buttocks, hips, and thighs were
hypnotic as she bent over to pick weeds, or kneeled to root a
plant. I marveled at their tuck and flair, and how they seemed
to draw down to and flow out of the area between her legs. Her
cleavage was tantalizingly exposed from time to time. I was very
helpful and she prepared a toothsome lunch for us. Later that
afternoon we went to her family’s orchard and picked fresh, ripe
plums.
All that time I looked at her with adolescent ardor and longing.
She was so beautiful, and she moved and worked with such grace
and confidence. We brought the plums home, and by 6pm had them
ready for canning. Delighted, Sheila told me what a wonderful
friend and helper I had been to her, and that after a hard day’s
work it was time to shower, relax, and enjoy ourselves. As
instructed I showered. Clean and refreshed, I donned my boxer
briefs, a light pair of trousers, and a shirt selected for me by
my mom. I waited for Sheila in her living room while she
showered. She was going to read some poems to me after washing
away the day’s cares.
Try as I might I couldn’t sit still. The fragrance of her bath
oils wafting out through the partially opened bathroom door was
captivating. When she turned on the shower to rinse off I was so
entranced by a vision of water washing over Sheila’s sleek,
lissome body that I crept down the hall to her bathroom, opened
the door a little, and looked in. Amidst the swirling steam, I
could see her form moving behind the shower curtain. I didn’t
know what had come over me and withdrew quickly, unintentionally
pulling the door shut, perhaps a bit too firmly, as I heard a
gasp followed by a portentous silence as the water was abruptly
shut off.
I shot back into the sitting room, and sat down on the couch, my
knees shaking, my face hot. What had I done? Shortly thereafter
Sheila entered the sitting room. She wore a white, clinging,
open necked, sleeveless satin blouse beneath which her proud,
nipple taut breasts rode free. A single, tear shaped pearl
hanging from a fine, silver necklace nestled in her cleavage. A
short navy blue skirt of pleated silk came to mid thigh. Her
luxurious black hair, still sleekly wet, was tied back in a pony
tail which swung to and fro, in time with her hips, as she
moved. Sheila was an image of beauty and purpose striding toward
me the leather heals of her open toed sandals beating a staccato
rhythm on the oak floor. She looked straight at me. I was
transfixed. My pulse raced.
As I turned from her gaze she sat down on the sofa next to me,
laid a hand on my knee, and placing two fingers of the other
under my chin, turned my face to her own. She looked intently
into my eyes and said, “You peeked into my bathroom while I
showered, didn’t you Teddy?”
I said nothing, but of course she knew. Coloring violently, my
voice cracking, I stated simply, “I’m very sorry, Sheila.
Please. Forgive me.”
Without breaking eye contact Sheila began softly stroking my
leg. She seemed to be thinking, and having apparently made her
decision took a deep breath. In a clear, firm voice she said
“Theodore, what you did was disgraceful. I’m not faulting you
for wanting to see me naked, that’s flattering and only natural,
but I am angry that you invaded my privacy. You’re an attractive
boy. Had you simply expressed your desire in a more seemly
manner your immediate fate would likely be a pleasant one.
However, your mother warned me that you have been naughty
lately, and I can see that you still lack the discipline a young
man should have. She also prescribed the punishment I should
employ if you didn’t conduct yourself properly. I mean to obey
her dictate.
“So Teddy, in a few minutes, because of your behavior, it will
be pain not pleasure that you experience. You’re to be spanked
until I’m fully convinced you’ve learned a very important
lesson. Only then will you be forgiven. Do you understand?”
Gazing into her eyes and almost sobbing, I choked out “Yes, I
understand. Please, I’m very, very sorry.”
“Not nearly as sorry as you’re going to be, young man. I mean to
make this a memorable occasion.” With that Sheila rose and
departed directing me to stand in a corner of the room, facing
the wall until she returned.
I walked to the corner and waited. My pulse was pounding, and my
breathing was short and fast. An uncomfortable tension was
building inside my trousers. After what seemed a lifetime Sheila
returned. I turned round. She was holding a pump spray bottle in
her left hand and a small jar in her right. She had put her hair
up in a tight bun giving her face a look of stark elegance.
Small pearl studs pierced her ears. She sat down on the sofa
parting her legs slightly her silk skirt falling away revealing
buttery thighs. She called to me and I was instantly before her.
Her fragrance was irresistible as she pulled me close between
her knees, and with our faces only inches apart looked directly
at me. It seemed as though a loving energy was flowing from her
eyes through mine to the core of my being.
I was downcast as she told me how disappointed she was in my
behavior. Her voice low, her warm eyes sparkling, she said
“Teddy, I respect your intelligence too much to say that your
spanking will be more painful for me than for you. In fact I am
going to derive a certain amount of pleasure from tanning your
hide. Perhaps you will bear the pain more manfully knowing that
your chastisement is intended not only for my gratification, but
to help you grow into the kind of gentleman attractive to women
of breeding.”
Her remarks unsettled me. My heart beat even faster than before
and I felt completely defenseless. When Sheila started to undo
my pants, all I could do was stammer out loud, “Please! No!” She
stopped for a moment, tormenting me I think an ironic smile
crossing her face. Her tongue passed briefly over her lips. She
resumed unzipping my fly. I was frightened, and aroused, but the
ejaculations earlier that day forestalled a full erection.
As she slowly slid my pants down she said “I intend to spank you
without mercy. Your buttocks will be black and blue by the time
I’ve finished your blistering. Do you fully understand what I’m
saying?”
I nodded weakly as she seemed to be reading my mind. I remained
silent for a while. She waited patiently. Finally, and with all
the conviction I could muster, I said, “Yes, ma’am, I know that
I deserve to be spanked. I am so very sorry. Please, won’t you
spank me until I learn to behave as I should?”
“Now that’s a good boy,” she replied, and began to slowly lower
my boxers. Sliding them down, she helped me to step out of them
along with my trousers, and laid them both neatly on the sofa. I
was trembling and so embarrassed, knowing I could not conceal my
semi-turgid member. Sheila also noticed as her eyes widened
momentarily. Then she grasped my swelling penis and used it to
maneuver me into position placing it between her bared thighs. I
moaned as she adjusted me on her lap, my hands and feet touching
the floor while my naked nates poised, awaited their fate.
I felt Sheila’s right hand press firmly into the small of my
back, and as her open left hand tapped my fanny, she said,
“Teddy, perhaps you’re thinking that because you are young and
aroused I will be distracted and go easy on you, but I want you
to know that in a moment you will be feeling a heat in your
chubby young bottom that you had not heretofore imagined
possible. I understand the feelings that are raging in you my
boy, but they won’t save you now. Take a deep breath, relax your
bottom cheeks, and tell me when you are ready.”
I tried hard to compose myself, but panicked and started to get
up. I froze, as in a steely voice she said, “This is altogether
too much. You’ve now added disobedience to your list of
offences. Apparently you wish to spend the remainder of the
weekend bared across my lap. I’m fully prepared to accommodate
you should that be your desire. I warn you not to test me on
this.”
I relaxed and murmured, “I couldn’t help myself. I promise to
behave. Please spank me now. Please.” She responded by massaging
my bottom, her fingers trailing along the cleft between my ass
cheeks sent a jolt of electricity through me as they lightly
grazed my anus and scrotum. Then, without warning she struck!
First she administered a series of light, tart spanks covering
the area from just below my waist to the tops of my thighs. They
came rather quickly, not really hurting terribly, and I wriggled
slightly, thrilling to the feeling of Sheila’s smooth, firm
thighs pressed to me.
“This may not be so bad,” I thought. I became even more aroused
as she paused momentarily to admire the soft pink glow she had
undoubtedly created. As she resumed I breathed deeply trying to
relax as the pace and intensity of her spanks increased. A
searing sting was now building in my behind, and Sheila, sensing
this, struck harder with each and every blow. I marveled at how
she contrived to make each stroke more intense than the last.
Clever girl! She spanked adroitly and with an innocent
enthusiasm. It was dawning on me that this athletic young woman
possessed more strength and endurance than did my mother.
I was soon squirming and kicking, and crying lustily. Sheila
settled me and continued spanking harder and harder, faster and
faster until there was a fire raging down below. Suddenly I went
limp across her knees sobbing uncontrollably. She stopped and
held me. My growing erection had subsided in deference to the
incredible burning sting in my bottom. She had chastised me
beyond anything I had so far experienced. And with just using
hers palms! As I lay there Sheila tenderly rubbed my fanny, and
in a hushed, husky voice said “That was over 100 spanks, my
darling, and you have born them well, but I’m afraid your poor
buttocks have yet to absorb a hairbrush paddling I intend giving
you.” A shiver of fear and excitement coursed through me. “You
may arise and rub your mottled rump if you’d like.”
I stood, a little wobbly, and rubbed hard, my feet stamping
softly, desperately trying to ease the pain. Still crying
faintly, I looked into Sheila’s eyes. She could see I was
contrite. Are you ready for your hairbrush licking?
“Yes Miss,” I replied.
“Very well please retrieve the brush from the top drawer in the
hutch.”
By the time I returned to the couch my penis was bobbing before
me. “Looks as though your mother’s intuition may be correct. In
any case I’ll wager your excitement will be tempered shortly”,
she said lightly tapping the head of my shaft with two of her
fingers. Completely under her spell, and smiling wanly, I
offered up the dreaded implement as though it were a chalice
filled with an exotic elixir, and voluntarily lowered myself
back into position across her lap. “You can be such a gentleman,
Teddy dear. I expect you’re beginning to regret your impetuous
behavior. So it’s truly a shame that you have to endure what
comes next. But endure it you will, and be a better man for it.
Only one hundred more and it will all be over. Courage, my
handsome young charger.”
I reacted by raising up and parting my legs slightly granting
her full access to my ass. The impact of the hairbrush was
breathtaking...a sharp report followed by a smarting crescendo.
I was soon wailing and writhing on her lap as she paddled
away...establishing a rhythm... the conductress of a symphony of
sensations, sight and sound...the bruising brush her baton, my
butt the orchestra, and voice the chorus.
Holding me firmly she stopped about every tenth lick
methodically checking to see that no part of my posteriors had
been spared. They hadn’t. The break gave my butt cheeks a chance
to recover and resensitize for the next set of searing swats.
During one of these respites she misted my ass with what I later
found out to be rose scented glycerin water. The cooling effect
brought me temporary relief and a false sense of hope that the
worst was over. The next swat dispelled these feelings as the
sting of the brush was excruciating its surface seeming to bond
itself to my skin. I wailed as she whaled away. Not satisfied
with confining her attention to my butt, she wetted the tops of
my thighs and tenderized them with an agonizing series of licks.
My legs kicked straight out and my head snapped up (later she
would teasingly say “that first brush stroke to your thighs
really stiffened your spine”).
“Oh God, please I can’t stand anymore.” She responded “correct
species, wrong gender. Anyway you have no choice but to endure
your punishment.”
Sheila was relentless, spanking with a crisp percussiveness.
Boy, was she ever putting me through my paces! As the end neared
she slowed, punctuating the paddling with words of admonishment.
“You won’t (smack’) soon forget (smack) that (smack) I expect
you to be a well behaved young gentleman (smack) at all times
(crack!), or prepare to suffer (smack, crack, smack) the
consequences (crack, splat)!” My backside and thighs sizzled. I
had ceased bucking and squirming, and felt as though I had moved
through pain to another level of consciousness where everything
is lucid and calm.
Finally my ordeal was over. Completely spent, I lay gasping in
disbelief, utterly worn out by this stern but loving
disciplinarian. Moaning and weeping freely I expressed my pain
and sorrow. I remained limp over her lap imagining Sheila in
glory above assessing what she had wrought. Her clear voice
intruded into my reverie. “You’d better not be sulking, or
feeling sorry for yourself Teddy. What I’ve given you is no more
than a good old fashioned spanking which, compared to a
flogging, is a game of patty cake.”
“Flogging?” I said alarmingly.
“Of course...as practiced by a Victorian governess with a
split-tail, leather punishment strap and rattan cane...her young
charge bound down over a padded bench or spanking horse. I can
tell you that she was not inclined to be merciful when
correcting serious breaches of behavior such as yours. Her
standards were absolute, and I’m afraid beyond your
comprehension. More’s the pity as you’ve obviously outgrown the
hairbrush and lap. So consider yourself fortunate to be hand
reared by women the likes of your mother and myself.”
She removed the lid of the jar, dipped her fingers into its
content, and began applying a soothing balm to my bottom.
Eventually, the throbbing in my rear subsided replaced by the
pulsating of my engorged organ. Sheila, feeling the pressure
helped me to stand up. Her face was radiant. With one hand
resting on my chastened seat she began lightly caressing my
straining member with her other, soft balm-slick hand.
Perspiration glistened at the base of her neck and between her
breasts testifying to the effort she had made on my behalf.
Slowly her expression became languid and dreamy.
“Bend closer,” she said, and cupping my testicles she kissed me
full on the mouth conveying her gratitude for receiving a
benison that I had somehow mysteriously bestowed. I reached out
and tentatively touched her left breast. “Brash boy” she said
reaching for the hairbrush.
“Oh, Miss I couldn’t help myself” I declared plaintively.
“Just joshing Teddy, although I’m afraid that you love all too
passionately. Yours is a temperament sure to bring you grief in
the years to come. However, I can see that you are truly
penitent and not holding a grudge. This speaks well of you.
Therefore, I’m prepared to reward you by relieving your aching
heart with stroking of an exacting, though entirely more
pleasurable kind. You are forgiven. Now then place your hands
behind your head and turn to the side.” I did so.
She began slowly titillating my genitals with one hand while
deftly inserting a lubed finger from the other in my rectum. My
already stiff penis swelled further feeling as though it would
pop out of its skin. Repeatedly she brought me trembling to the
edge of ejaculation. “You play with yourself frequently don’t
you my boy?”
Blushing, I remained silent. No matter. Such play is for the
most part harmless and understandable for one possessing such a
lively and lovely young tool. Masturbation doesn’t grow hair on
your palms or induce an eruption of acne in spite of rumors to
the contrary.
“However, there is the risk that, if not controlled, this habit
may render you incapable of employing that fine penis of yours
satisfying a woman as God and nature intend. I suspect you come
quite quickly and soon lose interest in further sport. A woman’s
needs require her man to be more assiduous and enduring in his
duties if he is to pleasure her satisfactorily. Should he fail
to come up to the mark it is her place to see that he does so by
employing whatever means are at her disposal. Consider these
ministrations the first in a long and arduous regimen that, if
we’re successful will carry you to a state of near perfection
achieved by few men.” She continued smoothly exercising my penis
and exploring my rectum.
“Control, control Mr. Hardwicke. Don’t run the risk of
disappointing yourself and displeasing me. Spend now, pay
later,” she said. With that she leaned forward and tongued the
pearls of jizzom oozing from the tip of my penis. This act, one
which I had masturbated to countless times, oddly enough calmed
me. I seemed to detach from my body viewing the proceedings from
a great height.
Entranced, we remained suspended in time, as the evening sun,
descending slowly, bathed the earth in an amber glow. Finally
releasing me she reached up and pulled the pins out of her hair
letting it spill across her shoulders and down onto her creamy
breasts. No longer our pretty, wholesome, next door
neighbor...transformed, she now appeared to me an alluring
vision of pagan power and sensuality. Sheila picked up the
hairbrush and balm, rose from the couch, and with my petrified
phallus firmly in hand, marched out of the room with me in tow.
We proceeded up the stairs, her magnificent swaying flanks and
ass leading the way to her bedroom where she taught me that
love’s garden of earthly delights imposes a rigor and discipline
all its own in the hands of a skilled and willful woman.
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