Lizzie let out a sigh of relief as she reached the top step of her front porch. Just one more step, and she was home free, another hectic week melting into a nice, relaxing weekend. Even though she swore to herself she was not going to bring her work home with her, she couldn’t help but replay in her mind the chaos that had been this past week; her clients demands were getting more insistent, her employees were no better than misbehaved children half the time, the server had crashed, and on top of it all, she had arrived at her car in the parking garage this afternoon to find her front left tire had gone completely flat. It had taken AAA forty-five minutes to arrive and make the necessary repairs to get her on her way. So much for making the most of every minute her husband, Tom, would be gone this weekend. Not that she didn’t enjoy their weekends together; on the contrary, she loved their little adventures-typically planned on a whim-that took them anywhere from one of the local vineyards to the antique shops they browsed for hours, or the drives back into the city for dinner at an up-and-coming restaurant. It sometimes just seemed that since they had made the decision to start a family the following year, they were trying to cram too much into their time together before the duties of parenthood made it nearly impossible to do so.

“Oh well,” she thought, “I’m here now, and the weekend is mine! All mine!” She ran through a mental list of the things she was going to “accomplish” this weekend; drink some wine, take a bath, watch one of her favorite old black-and-white movies. Lizzie opened the mailbox, and pulled out the numerous envelopes marked “Pre-Approval GUARANTEED!” wishing the credit card companies would have a little more consideration for the forests they were likely killing with all of their solicitations, when she noticed the envelope from their bank. Her heart beat faster, the way it always did when she saw that familiar logo. It didn’t matter that her financial problems were long behind her, she had spent so many years struggling before getting her business off the ground, and marrying Tom, that she was no stranger to bank notices that came well before regular monthly statements were sent out. She honestly felt that for as long as she lived, even if she had a million dollars in the bank, she would still have a mini panic attack at the sight of those envelopes.

“Quit being silly,” she reprimanded herself, then smiled at the memory of Tom “helping” her get her finances under control. By the time Lizzie was earning enough money to stay afloat of her monthly expenses, she had also become accustomed to living by the seat of her pants, and didn’t always take proactive steps to avoid future financial setbacks. Simple things, really, like not writing down when she would pay for something with her check card, or not always recording the items she had set up for automatic withdrawal from her bank account. Tom, on the other hand, was one of those annoying people (at least she thought they were annoying back then, she still had a hard time thinking of herself as one of them) who always wrote everything down immediately, and had never been charged an NSF fee in his life.

In the early days of their dating, she was able to keep her problems well hidden from him. That got much harder when they moved in together, and downright impossible by the time they got engaged, and he wanted to combine their money so they could earn more interest on their higher combined balances. Oh, the fights that had ensued, Lizzie steadfastly maintaining she had things under control, while the occasional NSF statement still found it’s way to their mailbox, Tom incredulous that a business woman (working in the financial industry, at that!) was not more disciplined with her money.

During one particularly nasty fight-a result of not one, but four NSF notices arriving in the mail, and the first mishap for Lizzie in over a year, Tom had thrown his hands up in disgust, called her a spoiled, bull-headed child, and declared that if she lacked self-discipline, then it was up to him to discipline her. She of course fired off a smart-assed retort, and both of them stormed off to different rooms, wondering if they would ever get past this argument. One night of silence turned into two, and both of them were clearly miserable, but neither knew how to approach the other, or how they would solve this age-old problem of theirs.

Lizzie, in particular, did a lot of thinking. She loved Tom more than she could describe, and wanted to marry him more than anything, but there was that little side to her that was hardened, what did he say? Bull-headed. Yes, that too. She knew it was ridiculous to not take better care with her finances, but that evil little stubborn streak in her argued that it was her money, her life, and therefore her decision on how to handle her finances. It wasn’t like he was supporting her, she made her own way just fine, thank you very much, imperfect though her methods may be.

On the second day, it dawned on her she was in danger of losing the man she loved, all because she wouldn’t buckle down and do what she should have been doing all along, Tom had nothing to do with it, he was simply trying to get her to see. She thought long and hard about what she could do to finally force herself to be more careful, but came up empty. She had tried many times before, hiding her check card, writing things down diligently in her checkbook. But then something would come up, a transaction would be missed, then another, and another, until she couldn’t have said what her balance was if her life depended on it. She kept coming back to the phrase he had used the night before, about it being up to him to discipline her. What, exactly, had he meant by that? Lizzie conjured up images of naughty girls with their skirts hiked up getting paddled, then laughed to herself. Surely, he didn’t mean that? They had discussions all the time about how they would raise their children someday, and both were anti-spanking. Still, when it came to her own backside getting the paddle, she had to admit, the idea both scared and aroused her.

Later that evening, she timidly approached Tom.

“Look, I know I’m stubborn. I know I’m more careless than I should be. I tell myself I’m going to be better, but next thing I know, I’m back to the same old habits. I’m sorry-I know you care about me, and just want to help me. I just honestly don’t know how, because everything I have tried myself has obviously failed.” She paused, and looked up at him. Apologizing had never been easy for her when it came to admitting to her own faults. She nervously waited for him to speak, trying to read the look on his face. When he didn’t speak, she continued. “Will you please help me? I’ll accept whatever methods you think will work. I trust you.”

Tom couldn’t hold back a little sardonic grin. “I know that was hard for you. I just want you to understand the consequences of your carelessness, rather than shrugging them off. We’re planning on starting a family someday, and if we want to do that, we need to make sure we’re financially stable. I refuse to live how my parents did-always overextending themselves, and never knowing if there was going to be enough money to put food on the table.”

As always, Lizzie felt a pang of sympathy when he brought up his childhood. He rarely talked about it, but she had been able to piece together enough over the years to know that he had a rough upbringing that included a father who drank too much, a mom who worked nights at whatever part time job she could find, and frequent service disconnections from the utility companies.

“I know, and believe me, I would never let it get that bad….” she started, so used to arguing her point that the words came out before she realized it. She caught herself before continuing. “So what now? How are you going to help me?”

“Well…..” he began, “I’d be lying if I said this last episode was the first time this idea had crossed my mind…..” he hesitated.

“What idea?” she asked, and seeing him struggle for the right words, added “I meant it when I said I trust you. I promise to at least try anything you suggest.”

This seemed to be all he needed in the way of prompting. “We’ve talked about how we want to raise our kids, and agree that there are better ways to discipline than by inflicting physical pain. You know I feel that way because of how my own father treated me. I’m not going to say he beat us kids often, but it was enough. I’d say at least half the time, it wasn’t deserved, and those are the times that made me hate him a little more, and swear I would never be like him. But,” he paused for a moment. “But, the other times, well, those were different. I’m not saying I ever liked getting my ass whipped, but let me tell you, when I was in the wrong, let’s just say it made me think twice about repeating that behavior any time soon. So I’d have to say it was very effective. Now, I still don’t believe in using that corrective method on a child, but Elizabeth, you are no child”

And with that, his intentions were made very clear. Lizzie knew he meant it, if nothing else, by the use of her full name, which he only used to let it be known that his thoughts were final, and he wasn’t going to budge. She felt her cheeks grow warm as her mind raced, first with thoughts of indignation and shock, which eventually gave way to resignation, and more than a little curiosity.

“Okay………..I gave my word I would try anything you suggested, and I won’t go back on my word. So what now?”

“Well, this is the first time I’ve been on the giving end,” he said, raising his eyebrow. “Let me think. When we had done something wrong as kids, mom usually sent us to our room to wait for the dreaded hour when our dad would get home, to administer the punishment. Believe me, we were usually very full of remorse already by the time he got home and the actual punishment started. So I think you should go upstairs to our bedroom, and spend a little time thinking about what you have done. I’ll be up shortly.”

And so she made the walk of shame, up the stairs, and to her bedroom. She was surprised that she didn’t feel rebellion against his choice of “discipline.” She was nervous, and certainly feeling ashamed, which was likely the desired effect, but she was also incredibly turned on. She had always thought of herself as an alpha female, more comfortable in control, but something about Tom exerting this little bit of control over her was immensely arousing. As she sat on the bed, waiting for him, Lizzie tried to do as he said, and think about her actions, which had caused her to be in this predicament; however, her mind kept wandering to what was about to take place, and she couldn’t help becoming more and more turned on.

The wait wasn’t a long one. In less than 15 minutes, she heard Tom climb the stairs and approach the bedroom door. He strode into the room, and without preamble, instructed her to stand up, lower her jeans and panties, and bend over the bed. Her anxiety started to replace her arousal as she heard him remove the leather belt from his jeans. She hadn’t really thought about what he planned to use on her.

“Well, Elizabeth, have you thought about your actions? Do you understand why you are being punished?”

Oh god, she couldn’t help it, she could feel her pussy getting wet, and how could she not, really, when her bare ass and everything else was prominently on display for him? “Yes, sir,” she replied, surprising herself greatly by addressing him in that way. “Sir??? Where did that come from?” she thought, but somehow, it just felt right.

“Well?” apparently he wanted to hear more.

“I’m being punished today, sir, because I had 4 items clear the bank without the proper funds, and I was charged $124 because of it.”

“Uh huh. And we’ve talked about this problem before, haven’t we, Elizabeth? I seem to remember you promising me last time that this would never happen again.”

“Yes, sir. I know. I’m so sorry. Please punish me.” Again she surprised herself with this new submissive demeanor.

“I could go easy on you, but I don’t think that’s going to be effective, given your long history. So what I have decided is to give you 10 strokes for each returned item. Does this seem fair to you?” he inquired.

Her mind reeled at the prospect of 40 lashes, and with his belt, no less, but she had come this far already. “Yes, sir, that’s fair.” She replied faintly.

“Good. Then we’ll begin when you ask me, and I want you to count out loud as we go,” he instructed.

She took a deep breath before asking “Please whip my ass, sir.”

***THWACK** the first stroke slashed through the air and landed square in the middle of her ass. She yelped in pain, surprised by how much it stung, and feeling her ass already begin to throb. “One,” she called out, before she would be reprimanded for not following directions.

***THWACK*** came the second, no less harsh than the first. “Two” she diligently cried out.

***THWACK*** “Three” ***THWACK*** “Four”

On and on the blows came crashing down. To her credit, she didn’t miss a single count, and only broke position once, after a stroke landed in the exact same spot as the prior one. After 20, Tom was worried maybe it was a bit too much to do at one time, and offered her a break of half hour if she wanted, which she turned down.

By the time the final blow was administered, tears were running down Lizzie’s face, and she collapsed on the bed, her ass on fire. Still, she was fairly certain that the punishment she received today would motivate her to be a LOT more careful in the future.

“Oh baby,” Tom interrupted her thoughts. “You’re ass is so red…I swear, I can feel waves of heat coming off of it.” He took a step closer to her to rub her back, and she could feel his hardened cock, straining against his jeans, press into her ass. She gasped at the contact, and he began to back away, but she stopped him.

“Oh, god, Tom…..please….fuck me,” she begged.

He was more than a bit surprised at the request. “Are you sure?” he asked, incredulous. She took his hand and guided it down to her pussy. He let out a soft moan when he felt how wet she was, and quickly freed his cock.

“Oh my god…..you’re so wet…….” He exclaimed as he slid into her wet hole with ease. She gave a small grunt as he entered her from behind, with the contact of his body slapping against her sore ass intensifying the whole experience. They both came in a matter of minutes. It was the most intense orgasm either of them had ever had.

“Well, that’s certainly not how I envisioned your ‘punishment’ ending,” Tom began. What followed was a lengthy discussion about what had happened, and what both of them wanted to happen in the future. Over the years, they tried experimenting with different things; roles, implements, and had settled comfortably into their new relationship. Much stayed the same, but every now and then, when Tom felt that Lizzie was in need of discipline, he doled it out. And for her part, though it surprised her still, she absolutely loved the shift in power in those circumstances.

She was pulled out of her reverie by the ringing of the phone. Dropping her briefcase, along with the mail, onto the foyer table, she jogged into the kitchen and caught the phone just before the caller gave up.

“Hello?” she asked, somewhat out of breath

“Hi babe. Just wanted to check in to let you know things went pretty well this week, and I might be able to catch a flight back home tomorrow night,” her husbands voice informed her.

She did a quick mental calculation….still plenty of “downtime” to relax….but there was something else trying to push it’s way up from the back of her mind-something she had meant to do. She glanced at the calendar, noting the blank space that indicated a free day tomorrow, and replied “That’s great! I’ve had a pretty tough week, and just plan to get some R&R time in tomorrow. Maybe we could have a lazy brunch on Sunday?” She was only half focusing on what she was saying to him….that little annoying something I meant to do kept popping into her head.

“Well, actually, I think Sunday we may have other plans,” he replied.

Oh great, here we go, can’t we just have one weekend with nothing to do? She thought. But “Oh, what do we have going on?” was what came out of her mouth.

“Before we get into Sunday’s plans, I need to withdraw some money for the trip home. What’s our balance in the account?” he inquired.

“Hang on a sec, let me grab my pur-“ she stopped, mid-sentence. Oh shit, fuck and damn! That something finally came front and center. Tom had asked her to transfer funds from savings to checking last Monday when he called her. He wouldn’t be depositing his paycheck until he was back into town, and their mortgage payment would have come directly out of their checking account on Tuesday. Still, they should have enough to cover the other checks she had written, and check card transactions she had made. Her mind flashed back to the letter from their bank, and she felt momentarily paralyzed with that same old fear.

“Elizabeth. Did you remember to make the funds transfer like I asked?”

“Oh, Tom, I’m so sorry, it slipped my mind. I had such a terri-“

“I don’t want to hear any excuses. I specifically asked you to do it when we were on the phone, you could have done it in a few seconds online-shit, you could have done it while we were talking.” His voice had grown very short and clipped. “Do you want to know what happened when I took my client out to dinner last night?”

“No….I mean, yes,” Lizzie replied in a quiet voice

“I gave the waiter my check card to pay for our meal, and guess what?” he paused.

Oh god, this was bad. “What?” she asked meekly

“I think you know. It didn’t go through. Any idea just how incompetent that made me look?”

“I’m sorry, I really am. What did you do?” she asked, silently cursing him for being such a stickler on credit cards. If he would give up his strict “emergency only” credit card policy and live like normal people did…….

“Fortunately, I had the Discover card on me. But that’s not the point. I could have blown a client because of your irresponsibility,” he admonished.

She could have argued her side more, she knew. But she also knew it had been quite some time since she had been “punished” and if anything, after this past week she had experienced, she could use the stress release that a good bare-bottomed spanking provided. Plus, if Tom wasn’t even going to be home until late tomorrow night, she still had plenty of time to relax before then.

“So everything turned out OK, then?” she asked

“Did I get his business, you mean? Yes, in spite of looking like I can’t manage my own finances, I did manage to sign him on as a client, after I explained what I presumed to be your mishap. Turns out, he has had similar problems with his wife. In fact, we ended up having a rather lengthy discussion on effective ways to correct her behavior. Things that have proven successful in our own relationship.”

“Oh, Tom! You didn’t!” she was stunned. After all, their lifestyle was something they kept very private. Just how much had he told this virtual stranger?

“Yup. We got to talking, and before you know it, I was giving him advice on how to correct his wife’s errant behavior. He is very excited to get home and try it out. We’re actually having dinner again tonight so I can answer any questions of his that have come up since yesterday. All in all, the meeting was very productive, I’d say,” he said, sounding pleased with himself. She was mortified that he would have told someone-regardless of whether or not she had ever met the man-about her being punished; did he tell him about the corner time? The other punishment “toys” they had introduced over the years? Which spanking implements left her ass burning for days, and which had proven to not be as effective?

“…..a demonstration tonight of how things work,” she was so lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t even realized he was still speaking. “I’m sorry, I missed that last part,” she said.

“He accepted my invitation for a demonstration tonight of how things work,” the words fell like lead, and the pit of her stomach dropped.

“To…tonight?” She stammered. “What can you possibly ‘demonstrate’ tonight? What do you intend to-“

“No questions, Elizabeth. I’m going to tell you what I expect of you, and you re going to comply, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” she replied, her mind still reeling with the possibilities of what he could possibly have in mind.

“That’s a good girl. Did you check the mail today?” he inquired

“Yes, sir, but I haven’t opened it yet, you called before I had the chance.”

“And is there anything from our bank in there?”

Honestly, by this point she had forgotten all about that envelope. Things were just going from bad to worse. Not only had she not remembered to do the funds transfer, but now that she was being forced to think of the worst-case scenario for getting that envelope in the first place, there were likely a few check card transactions that she made, and in her frazzled state during the week didn’t write down.

“Yes, sir,” she responded.

“Listen carefully, I’m only giving you these instructions once. Leave your work clothes on. Don’t open that envelope. At 7:30, I want you to take it to the sofa table, near the phone. Then lift up your skirt, pull down your panties, and assume the proper position for punishment, placing your hands on the table. So your ass is facing the foyer,” he instructed. “You’re to wait in that position until I call again. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” And with that, he hung up. Lizzie glanced at the clock on the mantel. It was 6:55 now, so she had 35 minutes to wait. Well, this weekend wasn’t turning out at all how she planned! If only she hadn’t put off doing that damn funds transfer, she would be in her comfy lounge clothes by now, ordering some dinner, and settling in for a peaceful night. Now here she was, in her pencil skirt and knee-high boots; clothes that suited the office fine, but felt stifling as soon as she was on her own time. What the hell did Tom plan to do? What, or more importantly, how, was he going to “demonstrate” to his client? Could he possibly have come back early, and brought his client along with him? No, that didn’t make sense-why would he instruct her to be near the phone and wait for his call? At least the mystery of how he was going to pull this off helped to alleviate her growing anxiety. She enjoyed her punishments for a variety of reasons, but that didn’t mean they didn’t still hurt! A lot!

Another glance at the clock startled her into action-it was already 7:26! How could time move so fast sometimes, and other times not at all? She scooped up the letter from the coffee table, and walked behind the sofa to the long skinny table that held a lamp, some pictures, and of course, the phone. She set the letter on the table in front of her, and lifted her skirt above her ass. She then pulled her panties down to her knees, and bent over at the waist, placing her palms on the table in front of her. She felt beyond foolish; somehow it was more humiliating to be in this position with no one else around than it had ever been in front of Tom. Not only that, but her bare ass was facing the front door, and anyone who happened to come up onto the porch would only need to take a quick peek through either of the windows flanking the front door to get a view of not only her ass, but her pussy as well. She just silently prayed no one would come by, and that Tom would call soon.

7:30 came and went. Then 7:35, 7:40, 7:45. Every five-minute increment felt like an hour. The waiting was torture, which of course was why Tom was putting her through this. Every sound was amplified in the quiet neighborhood. In the distance, maybe a house or two down, she heard a car door slam. A few seconds later, the phone rang. She reached one had over, and brought the phone to her ear, maintaining her position.

“Hello?” she answered

“Did you follow my instructions, Elizabeth?” Tom asked, cutting to the chase.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Put me on speaker phone,” he ordered, and she complied. The phone sat just a few inches from her face.

“Say hello to my new client, Greg.”

Her hesitation was slight. “Hello, Greg.” The stranger answered her greeting in return. So Tom wasn’t pulling her leg, there was most definitely someone else in the hotel room with him.

“Elizabeth, I want you to open the letter in front of you, and read it out loud.”

She picked up the cursed envelope, and opened it. She had been holding out hope that maybe the situation wasn’t that bad…..sure, Tom’s dinner charge hadn’t gone through, but maybe that just meant there wasn’t enough to cover that charge, maybe after the mortgage payment came out, and her few check card transactions went through, maybe there was still a small balance, and the bank hadn’t charged them anything for items that had come in and not cleared. It’s not that she minded the punishment, but she was disappointed in herself because she thought this problem of hers had been overcome once and for all. Any hope she had was dashed as she read aloud:

“Dear Mr. And Mrs. Connor:

This letter is notification that on 11/10/07 the following items were debited from your account, leaving a balance of –44.02.

Starbucks point of sale purchase 35.82
Exxon Mobil point of sale purchase 45.00

These items have been paid, and your account has been debited an additional service fee of $60. Your current balance is –104.02”

She had completely forgotten the day she took her 2 managers out for a breakfast meeting, and then filling up her tank a couple days later

“What happens when you are careless with our finances, and don’t write things down like you should?” Tom interrogated.

“I get punished, sir,” she replied, then with a small sigh of resignation, decided she’d better be on her best behavior if there was going to be a witness to her humiliation. She continued “I get my ass spanked, sir, like a naughty little girl. Then I am sent to the corner to think about what I have done.” She didn’t think he meant for her to elaborate about the other punishments administered for swearing, giving attitude, or talking back to him during a punishment.

“And how do we determine what your punishment will be?”

“I get one stroke for every dollar we are charged in NSF fees, sir.” She replied., not knowing where he was going with all this, since clearly there was no way she was getting a spanking with him being hundreds of miles away.

“That’s correct. Tonight will be no exception,” his voice then softened slightly as he continued “Long ago you said you trusted me, and I’m going to ask you to trust me now. Do you?”

Of course she did, and told him so.

“All right. In a couple minutes, a trusted friend of mine-one you know, by the way-will be coming up the steps. I’ve told him where our spare house key is. He’s going to come in, and administer your punishment in my absence. It’s not important who this person is, since ultimately, I am the one punishing you. You are instructed to keep your eyes forward, and focus on my voice. You will not turn around. Understood?”

Oh god…..she thought, feeling weak in the knees. She was glad she had the table to support her. This was certainly taking things to a new, albeit exciting, level. To think someone she knew was going to see her in this position embarrassed her, but made her incredibly wet as well.

“I understand, sir.” She said, hearing footsteps coming up the walk. A short moment later, she heard the key in the door. Her heart rate quickened. God, she felt so vulnerable! She could hear her punisher’s subtle intake of breath as they got a full view of her backside. It was torture denying herself turning to see who was there! She heard the sounds of a belt being removed.

“Elizabeth,” Tom began. “You’re going to receive 60 strokes from the belt today for your irresponsibility. You’re to count each one out loud. We’ll begin when you ask.”

She gulped. Humbling herself not only in front of Tom’s client, but her anonymous punisher as well, she meekly asked: “Please punish me for my error, sir. Please whip my bare ass”

Without a moment’s hesitation it seemed, she heard the belt swish through the air before landing with a loud “THWAP!” on her ass.

“One!” she cried out, only having a moment to register that whoever was beating her certainly wasn’t shy about holding back before the next came crashing done.

“Two!” The strokes were just as strong, if not more so, than Tom’s. He obviously had told this person to give the job his best effort.

THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! the strokes came and came. Tom had always seemed to space them out a bit, taking her reaction into consideration, and giving her a little breather when it seemed like she needed it. Sure, he would use that time to admonish her, but at least it meant giving her sore ass a short break. Since talking would give her punisher’s identity away….and just who the hell was it anyway???……and since Tom could have no way of gauging her reaction over the phone, the strokes came methodically, without mercy of even the smallest break.

After 20 she was sure she would not be able to take another 40. But dutifully, she called out the numbers…..”21……22……23” and by 27, the tears were streaming down her face, her ass was blazing, and she was having difficulty maintaining her position.

THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! Came 28, 29, and 30. Elizabeth let out a sob, and Tom mercifully cut in.

“How are you feeling, Elizabeth?”

She sniffled back another sob before answering “Sore, sir! I’m so sorry that I forgot to make the transfer. I swear, I’ll never be irresponsible with our account again.”

“I hope so, Elizabeth. I’d hate to think all these punishment sessions over the years have been for nothing.”

“No sir, they aren’t.”

“Now, I would like for you to tell Greg why you think this method of punishment is effective, and why it might work for his wife,” he instructed.

He knew things like this were hard for her, arguably harder than taking a physical punishment from him. Do what you want to her physically, but humbling herself verbally was always a challenge. She thought for moment, but not too long, lest he think she was just stalling the second half of her whipping. She did appreciate the intermission, however humiliating describing her punishments to a stranger (and someone right here in the room that she knew and would see her again after having this intimate glimpse into her life!) might be.

“Well……” she began, “I know I made a mistake this week, but it has been a long time since the last bank error, and when Tom and I first met, I was overdrawing on the account at least once a month. “ She paused a moment, trying to form the most honest answer she could. “I can be very stubborn, and like to do things my way. I don’t like to take orders. Having someone step in and force me to change is almost the only way I could change, I think. “ She waited, hoping that was enough.

For the second time, she heard Greg’s voice “And you just submit yourself voluntarily to this? Why?” he asked in disbelief. She could understand-in today’s world, it wasn’t really ever considered acceptable in mainstream society to beat one’s wife.

“I do it because I love Tom,” she started. “I don’t want to let him down, ever. And odd as it might sound…” though not as odd as her explaining this to a stranger while bent over, half-naked in her living room with an anonymous friend administering a whipping at her husband’s command-she thought drily…”but every now and then I simply like having someone else step in and take control.” And so much for women’s lib, she added to herself.

This seemed to satisfy him for the moment, though she was sure he and Tom would be discussing things further well into the evening.

Whatever his reason for wanting her to explain things, she was grateful for the break, though her ass was still throbbing, at least the tears had dried on her cheeks. She heard the mysterious person behind her shifting a bit, and she knew he was gearing up for the second half of her whipping. It was all she could do to not turn around and implore, with her eyes if nothing else, for leniency.

“If you’re ready, then Elizabeth,” Tom prompted.

She gave an almost imperceptible sigh, before saying “Please sir, may I have the second half of my whipping?”

Before she even had time to clench for the first blow, it was delivered.

“Yeouch!!!!!!!” she cried, unable to restrain herself. Maybe the short break wasn’t such a good idea after all. The slow throbbing burn instantly turned into a searing welt of pain. “Oh god!” She thought frantically. “I take it all back! I can’t submit myself to this!” But instead of vocalizing this thought, or breaking her position, she made her mind go to that “special” place, as she thought of it. The place where she was able to put her pain aside to accept Tom’s discipline. Coincidentally, it was going to this place that caused her greatest level of arousal. She didn’t want to think about what this made her, or what other women would say if they only knew.

She dutifully called out the number, and steeled herself for the next blow, her pussy getting wet even as the belt struck her square in the middle of her ass. By stroke 45, she was practically grinding her hips, raising her ass to meet the blows that steadily rained down, the juices from her pussy starting to drip down her leg. “good,” she thought “let whoever is doing this to me see exactly what they are doing to me.” Of course the thought of someone she knew seeing her combined pain/arousal only served to get her more worked up. Perhaps seeing this effect, or maybe at Tom’s pre-discussed order, her punisher picked up the pace, and somehow managed to make the next 5 blows sting more than any of the previous.

Grinding in full earnest now, tears streaming down her face, angry welts criss-crossing her previously pale ass, all she could do was groan through strokes 51 to 55. At this point, Tom interjected again, knowing full well what state she was in.

“Elizabeth, have you learned your lesson?” he asked

“Oh, yes sir,” she sobbed.

“Answer me truthfully, Elizabeth” his voice came over the speaker. “Are you wet?”

“Oh god, yes sir!” she cried.

“If you promise me you’ll never let this happen again, you can finger yourself while the last 5 strokes are given.”

Well, this was something new. She knew she should be shocked by this turn of events, maybe even protest, but at this point, she didn’t care if he conference called in every damn person they knew, and had her throw the door wide open for everyone to see….she needed release, and needed it BAD.

“I promise, sir, I will never, ever make this mistake again,” she stated obligingly, reaching her hand down to her wet pussy. As she began to finger her clit, Tom’s voice broke in again.

“Good girl. The last 5 then”
CRACK! The belt crashed down on her ass. All she could do was moan, and rub her clit faster. Knowing the state she was in, Tom decided to let the counting out loud slide. After all, the moans escaping her after the sound of the beating was far more entertaining.

CRACK! Her clit was covered in pussy juice, wet as she was. She rubbed her hand on her thigh, and went back to her clit. Faster….faster…..feeling herself on the brink of an intense orgasm, but needing the pain of the belt to help her get there.

CRACK! “Ohhhhh…..god!” she moaned. “Harder, please, sir” She didn’t even know who she was requesting this from-her punisher, or for Tom to give him the go ahead. She didn’t care. Only two left, and bizarre as it was, she knew if she didn’t come by the time this beating was over, she was going to have a hard time finishing the job later. The impact the belt made on her ass sent waves of pain/pleasure radiating throughout her whole body.

CRACK! “Mmmmmmmm” she was so close now……..she could feel it building……her fingers worked their rhythmic motion with an intent all their own. Please, please, she silently begged, make this last one count………

CRACK!!! “AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH” she screamed; the lash searing her ass sent her into the throes of orgasm. Her pussy undulated, her hips bucked, her breathing was ragged. “Oh god” she said breathily “Thank you sir,” again, not knowing or caring who she was directing this gratitude to. Everyone, she guessed.

She had laid her head down on the sofa table, unable to move even if she wanted to, but ultimately waiting for Tom’s next command. Quietly, she heard the anonymous person behind her replace his belt, and let himself out. A brief moment of disappointment passed through her. All she wanted now was to be fucked, by anyone available! Tom must trust this friend indeed.

“Lizzie, you there?” he asked quietly, his voice sounding a bit strained. She could tell that he felt the same way she did, and if there was any way he could hop on a plane and be home within the next hour, he would.

“Uh-huh” was all she could muster, still draped limply over the table, her cheek plastered to it.

“I know that was supposed to be punishment and all, but oh my god. Greg excused himself pretty quickly a few seconds ago, and I have a good hunch as to what he’s up to right now,” he chuckled.

“Glad I pleased you….and him….baby,” she said, smiling lazily.

“That was the hottest thing I have ever witnessed, which I didn’t even think was possible being we’re not in the same room. Hell, the same state.”

“I know. I really wish you were here, Tom.”

“I’ll be home tomorrow. It’s way too long to have to wait, but maybe we can continue your ‘punishment’ when I get home…”

“I’d like that,” she replied.

“Sleep well, then, my naughty little girl. You’ll need your rest.” he said.

“’bye, baby,” she started, then raised her head, remembering. “Tom-are you going to tell me who that was whipping me?”

“Not a chance,” he said without hesitation. “I might need his services again someday. Besides, I kind of like the idea of you anxiously wondering every time we’re around friends if they might have been The One.”

“Oh,” she said, feeling her pussy tingle again at the thought of not knowing who it was who helped her reach the greatest climax of her life. She was pretty sure it would be a challenge to not get aroused any time they were with friends, wondering if this was the person……

“I wish you were here now,” she purred, not realizing that her hips had started a seductive little grind again.

“Elizabeth,” his authoritative voice has returned.

“Yes, sir?”

“No touching yourself until I get home. Understand?”

“Oh sir, you truly are mean,” she sighed. “Please hurry home.”

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