A Man Experiences a Taste of CFNM When the Mature Spanking Mistress Invites a Strange Woman to Watch
Miriam was sitting in her easy chair in the living room, watching “Bonanza”, when the doorbell sounded.
She got up, and went to the door, and opened it.
“Jane! What brings you by?”
“I was in the neighborhood, well, no, I wasn’t, I was out on errands, and decided to drive by, see how you’re doing.”
“Come in, I’m fine, come in.” They went into the living room, and sat.
“So, what are you up to today?” asked Jane.
“Oh, same old same old in this busy retiree’s life. You know….and, oh, I’m giving a spanking in a couple of hours.”
“Still doing that, are you?”
“As long as there are naughty boys who know they should have their bottoms spanked and come to me to do it, I’ll be doing it.”
Jane giggles. “So is this one a first-timer, a once-in-a-while-er, or a regular?”
“I met this one, when I lived in the SuperDuper Apartments. He was a regular, back then. Then his career started to keep him very busy, for a long time. Then work eased up on him, and he’s been a regular for nearly a year now, twice a week.”
“Twice a week? Wow. Now, I know you love slapping male bottoms, but considering you’re on a fixed income, I can’t help thinking you should charge something for a service that these men obvious want.”
“Well, I’d feel badly actually taking money for something I enjoy doing, but I do get groceries.”
“Oh? How’s that work?”
“This one has made it a habit to call me the morning of his appointment, just to confirm the appointment, he claims, but he always asks if he can stop at the supermarket for and get anything for me. Once I figured out that he enjoys doing it for me, I’ve had no problem creating a list for him.”
“I see. Well, there have certainly been times that I’ve wished I was a fly on the wall, so I could watch the Mistress in action.”
“Oh, you want to watch? By all means, stay and do so.”
“Um, won’t he mind?”
“It doesn’t matter if HE minds, I’m in charge. Furthermore, it’s a fantasy of his, to have someone watch.”
“He has told you that?”
“Not in so many words… but I can tell, by his reaction when I have suggested having someone watch. His mouth protests ‘oh no’ but his body language says, ‘oh yes please’.”
“Well, then, I’ll make a phone call to check in at home, but then, I’d love to stay and watch.”
They sat on Miriam’s couch, talking.
At 1 o’clock, the doorbell rang.
“Always right on time,” said Miriam, standing up.
She went to the door, out of view of the living room, opened it.
“Come on in, you can bring those straight to the kitchen. Was there anything perishable that needs to be put in the icebox….oh yes.”
“Now, to the living room,” she said, and she entered, with a tall, middle-aged man following her.
She said, “Floyd, this is my very good friend Jane.”
Floyd and Jane shook hands, and Miriam continued, “Jane will be a witness for this afternoon.”
A deep blush passed over Floyd’s face, then he whispered, “Oh. Okay.”
Miriam sat down in the chair reserved for these occasions and said, “SOOOO, how do we always start?”
“Well, I get undressed.”
He gulped, and began undressing, removing shoes, shirt, pants, and pausing once reduced to tighty whities and white socks to glance at her, as if hoping that she would say ‘stop’, but she did not, and he continued, removing his socks, and finally, with a deep breath, tugged his briefs down and off, and stood up straight, in front of her, naked, hands straight down at his sides.
The hint of a smile appeared on Jane’s lip, and Floyd blushed again, and Miriam said, “Come closer, turn around, inspection.”
Obediently, he stepped closer to her, turned around, spread his legs, and bent over,
She reached out, and pinched a buttock in each hand, and pulled them apart, and peered in between them.
“Not bad,” she said, “You’re starting to learn how to keep it clean…. now then,” she continued, and from the table next to her where she kept her supplies, she produced a rectal thermometer, and KY. She dipped the business end of the thermometer in the KY, then slipped it into his anus, and let go of his cheeks, and leaned back, and started chatting with Jane.
“The BEST way to take a boy’s temperature, bar none.”
“Oh, I agree,” said Jane.
She leaned forward, and withdrew the thermometer, and looked at it. “Normal…” then she wiped it in alcohol, and put it away, and picked up a latex glove, and slipped it on her right hand, then dipped her index finger in KY, and reached out to part his cheeks, then moved her hand forward, sliding her lubed finger into his anus and rectum, as he grunted.
She wiggled the finger around for a bit, and most certainly for longer than really necessary for this exam, then she withdrew her finger, and said, “Prostate feels normal.” She took the glove off her hand and discarded it. “Stand up, and get over my lap.”
He stood up straight, turned around, and bent to get over her lap, with his toes pointed and on the ground on her right side, his forearms on the ground, cradling his head, on her left.
She produced a square-head bamboo-handle hairbrush from the table, and a timer, set the timer for five minutes, and began smacking his buttocks, one cheek then the other, squarely in the center, back and forth, then changing to three smacks on one cheek, then three on the other, as his breathing deepened, and he began moaning audibly. She switched back to one smack a side, but a very hard smack, enough to elicit an “OHHHHH” from him with each one.
The alarm buzzed.
She stopped, as he gasped and panted.
She rubbed her hand over his red cheeks, then reset the timer, and began spanking again, hard alternating smacks, each one, in the ‘same damn spot’ in the center of each cheek, as he moaned, and his breathing grew shallower, and he was gasping, and he finally let loose with sobs, muffled at first, then louder, and tears were flowing down his eyes when the alarm buzzed, and she stopped.
She put down the hair brush, and let him sob, while rubbing one hand through his hair, the other hand around his buttocks.
His sniffling stopped. The room grew quiet. In her hand appeared the long handled bath brush.
She set the timer, once again, and began smacking his lower buttcheeks, one smack to each one, back and forth, producing more tears from him within 10 smacks, and he was crying loudly when the alarm buzzed, and she stopped.
She waited for the sobbing and sniffling to stop, and said, “Get up, and go, get on the day bed.”
He stood up, and went into an adjacent room, the den, and laid himself down, face down prone, alone the length of a long ottoman.
And he looked up, at the wall, from which hung a leather Canadian prison strap, a butcher’s strap, a split-finger tawse, and a nine-tailed martinet, and he wondered which would blister his bottom time.
After a few minutes, she came into the room, went to the wall, and took down the butcher’s strap.
She stood back, to his left side, and said, “Count them out.”
She swung, SPLAAAT….”Ohhhh… one…”
She continued from that side, landing ten smacks, and he was choking as he called, “TEN!”
She walked around to the other side, and said, “Count ’em.”
Ten swats of the strap, and he sobbed as he counted.
She stopped, and hung the strap back up on the wall, then picked up a kitchen timer and set it.
“You may stay there and compose yourself until this alarm goes off, then come into the living room, and take the position over the chair. Don’t let me catch you doing any rubbing.”
She left the room.
The alarm charmed.
He got up from the bed, and walked into the living room, and up to the back of the chair. From there, he could see hanging on the wall, a long bamboo paddle, a wooden Spencer paddle, a Lexan paddle. He bent over the back of the chair, with his hands flat on the seat.
After a few minutes, she went to the wall, and took down the Spencer paddle, then stood behind him to his left. She tapped his buttocks lightly with the paddle and said, “Count!”
He groaned with each hard WHAP and counted. After 10, she paused to switch sides and hands.
The WHAPS landed harder than before, and he was sobbing as he counted up to ten.
“Go to the corner, there, get your hands on your head, while I decide whether or not to apply cane strokes.”
He went to the corner, and stood.
She returned to her seat next to Jane.
Jane asked quietly, “You’re really deciding whether or not…?”
“Nah, it’s part of this role play. All I’m going to do is flip a coin. Meanwhile, he is left there wondering if he’s going to get it or not.”