Happy Thanksgiving to all my American friends and readers! And to everyone else, have a great time too!
Janet checked the clasp of her garter-belt’s strap one last time. She wanted everything to look good for Him. No, not good, perfect. She pulled on the strap and let it snap against her thigh with a satisfying clack. A delicious shiver ran up her spine at the thought of His eyes running up and down her long legs clad in their dark stockings, of His gaze admiring her lacy corset and the smoky make-up look that she had spent an hour perfecting. She imagined His hands caressing the small of her back, tracing lines across her legs, the nape of her neck. She dreamt of His lips kissing her neck, her chest, and of His teeth biting her lips, teasing her with promises of pleasures to come.
She checked herself in the mirror one last time. Getting dressed in the office’s bathroom was not the most ideal of situations, but when you were having an affair with your boss, some sacrifices had to be made. Besides, He treated her really well, and that was not just the mind-bending sex. What could she say? A man who knew what he was doing was worth all the trouble, the secrets, the lies… And the fact that she found herself in a company bathroom at eleven at night wearing a rather naughty lingerie ensemble. She smacked her lips after applying a last touch of red to them. She was ready for Him.
Her heels click-clacking on the floor, she made her way to her boss’ office. The workspaces around her were dark, save the glow of a few computer screens that had not been turned off. Through the large windows beyond, she could see the lights of the skyscrapers of the city below. With a frisson of naughtiness, she wondered if a late-night worker in another building would catch a glimpse of her hips swaying in her skimpy outfit. Smothering a giggle, she placed her hand on the doorknob and knocked softly. She opened the door.
The office was dark. He did like the theatricality of it. It was part of His charm, really. He would always make her feel like every part of their secret time together was lifted from the pages of a book. Every minute an adventure, and she always loved the endings. The thought made her smile. The lights suddenly turned on, and she smiled broadly, her hand shooting to cover her eyes.
“Ooh!” she purred, “You surprised m—”
She cut herself short when she saw that the person sat behind the large oak desk was not her boss at all. It was…
“Sally? W-what are you doing here?” she asked, an arm covering the ample bosom that her corset flattered. The attempt at modesty was somewhat defeated by the rest of the outfit, frilly panties and all, but her mind was busy racing to find anything to say, and trying to understand why Sally, her boss’ personal assistant, was sitting there instead of Him.
“Hello, Janet,” Sally said, with venom in her voice as she spoke her name. “I was hoping to have a chat with you…”
“A… chat?” Janet asked, troubled by the other woman’s commanding tone. She was nothing like the demure, discreet assistant that she was used to seeing during the day.
“Yes… A chat. You seem surprised to see me here? Maybe you were expecting someone else?”
“I think you already know…” Janet answered, blushing. Her secrets didn’t seem so well guarded after all…
Sally got up from behind the desk and walked to her. With a smirk, she looked up and down the embarrassed younger woman.
“Yes. I’m afraid Jim won’t be coming… He has a dinner tonight,” Sally said after an uncomfortably long silence.
“D-does he?” Janet stuttered.
“Yes, he does… With his wife.”
Janet said nothing. Right. Think, what could Sally want? Money? She wasn’t particularly rich, but He had made her gifts that she could sell for good money. Maybe Sally would stay quiet for that pair of diamond earrings that He had gotten her last time. Think, think! She needed to stall for time.
“Did… did she send you?” she asked, “Does she know about… this?” she pointed to herself and to her outfit as she said the last word.
“What?” Sally scoffed, “That stupid frigid hag doesn’t know anything, nor does she care, really.”
Janet gasped, and Sally went on: “As long as he keeps her bank account well cushioned, I don’t think she gives a damn what he does, really. Or who.”
“But then… What’s all this? Why are you here? And… What do you want?”
Sally came closer, glaring. She frowned and cusped Janet’s chin between two fingers.
“Jim is mine,” she hissed, “and he has been mine for much longer than you have even worked here.”
“Wh-what?!” Janet said, blushing at her other woman’s touch.
“I’ve been his mistress for years and I’m not about to let him ruin everything for some bimbo who thinks dressing like that is what he likes!”
Janet was too stunned to speak. Sally? Sweet, boring, in-the-background Sally? She couldn’t imagine Him with her, no. No. That was a lie, it had to be! Janet had been seeing Him for over a month, she would have noticed something, she…
“I won’t let you have him,” Sally said again, “and I’m going to teach you a lesson…”
Without another word, her hand flew to Janet’s ear, and she was dragging her towards the desk. With cries of pain, Janet followed.
“Stop! What are you doing!” she moaned, to no avail.
“I’ll show you what little sluts like you deserve…” Sally muttered through gritted teeth. Sitting down in His chair, she forced the younger girl over her knees.
“You can’t be serious!” Janet protested, incredulous, “who do you think you—”
The first slap landing on her ample bottom broke her train of thought. It hurt! She kicked her legs and tried to get off, but Sally was surprisingly strong, and, peppering her bottom with one hand, she held her firmly with the other. Within seconds, the pain seemed to spread, and Sally was not stopping.
“You can’t do this!” Janet cried out, somewhat unconvincingly. Her eyes were tearing up as her bottom was warming, and she tried to cover it with her hand. Scoffing, Sally pushed it away, and it only made her spank harder. The panties, as nice as they were, offered little protection against the ire of the scorned woman.
“Jim deserves the best,” Sally said, “and I always make sure he gets it…”
“Well, then,” Janet said defiantly, “then you should let him have me, rather than having to deal with your saggy tits…”
Silence. The slaps stopped as both Sally and Janet fell silent. The latter couldn’t believe that she had just said that. The former stunned into apoplexy that this girl, this airhead, this slut would dare talk to her like that.
“You did NOT just say that,” she roared, and grabbed Janet’s panties to lower them down to her thighs. “I’ll show you just what you deserve…”
The slaps fell fast and hard, as did the scolding, the belittling, the insults. Clearly, Janet had unknowingly struck a nerve. Unfortunately for her, she was in too much pain to appreciate it. Her bottom was burning, her sit spots were on fire, and Sally was not stopping. Tears were now running down Janet’s face, and she didn’t know how this was all going to end.
“Please…” she begged between two sobs, “I’ll do whatever you want…”
“You won’t see Jim again?” Sally asked, holding her hand up menacingly.
“Well, I…” Janet hesitated. Sally hand slapped her offered bottom once again.
“Shouldn’t He get to decide?” Janet sobbed, “Why did He get with me in the first place, huh?”
“He…” Sally hesitated, “He can be like that, sometimes… He gets distracted…”
Janet waited for the slaps to come. The silence stretched. Taking deep breaths to try and calm the raging fire in her behind, she asked:
“Has… Has this happened before? I mean, am I the first one that—”
“No.” Sally cut her, bitterly. “No, you’re not the first… mistake… that he made. I had to… Correct some other girls’ silly ideas… Like I said, he gets distracted…”
She fell silent once more. Janet didn’t dare move to soothe her blistered behind, for fear that the other woman would start spanking her again.
“But…” Sally began, “He always comes back to me…”
Janet could hear the hurt in that voice, the slightest twitch of regret. Her hatred of the other woman seemed to fly away in that instant.
“Oh, Sally…” she said, moving to get up. The older woman said nothing and didn’t stop her. Janet stood up in front of her tormentor, her hands unconsciously flying to clutch her bruised bottom. She winced, then looked at Sally. Tears were running down her face as well.
“Oh, Sally…” Janet said again, and against all instincts, she took the woman in her arms.
“Sally, you deserve so much better…”
“I don’t want better,” Sally sobbed, “I want him.”
In the end, it turned out that when both women brought proof of what Jim had been doing for all these years, his wife did actually care about it very much. Far form the stupid, pampered bimbo that Janet had imagined from Sally’s description, his wife had been generous and empathetic. Most importantly, she had gotten mad at him rather than at the other women. As the high-profile divorce made headline for months, all three women found themselves forming an unexpected friendship, and saw each other often long after.
More surprisingly still, Janet found herself over Sally’s lap again, numerous times. That night in the office had opened doors in her that she hadn’t known existed, and she had been eager to cross that threshold again, but with a friend, a lover, that time. Sally, it turned out, had been just as eager.
Words of wisdom… And a picture to celebrate the many benefits that friendship can bring 😉
On a more personal note, it’s always fun to work with people to commemorate special times in their life, or to surprise a friend/partner with some naughty fun ^^
Remember, what happens in Supermac’s stays in Supermac’s!
Have a good time, everyone, and enjoy the craic (and the buttcraic, in this case!)
Is breá liom sibh go léir!
Oh Curtis, bless your heart…
Crime never pays!
Melany had had enough. It just had to stop, and it would stop tonight. She had spent an hour or so getting ready, putting her makeup on, straightening her long, dark hair, changing her outfit three times before settling on the first one that she had tried. The usual. She hadn’t been out in ages and she was intending on having fun. What she was not intending on was her mum coming along for the ride. Again.
It had started in the summer. Her parents had gotten divorced (for the best, really), and her mum had needed a chance of place (her words). Therefore, she had decided to join her daughter Melany in California, where the young brunette was attending college. At first, Melany had been quite happy to have her mum around, as Michigan was too far for regular visits. Her mum worked from home, and she offered to move in together, even do her laundry like when she was still living at home in the Great Lake State. It was cute, and the two had always gotten along. So Melany had said yes.
Then her mum had started feeling lonely. To Melany’s horror, she had downloader Tinder, and even gone on a few dates. Thankfully, none that had gone so well that she’d brought a man to their cosy flat. But the thought made Melany shiver. Still, she was supportive. Her mum deserved to be happy, that wasn’t the issue. No, the issues had started when Sheila —her mum— had suggested they go out together.
“You want to go have diner some place?” Melany had asked.
“No, go out out,” her mum had answered.
And so they’d done just that. Once, twice, five times. Now every time Melany got herself ready, her mum ran to the bathroom and started doing the same. Not only that, her mum partied hard. After a few weeks, she was already getting a reputation, and not a particularly good one. The shots of tequila and the borderline grinding on boys at the club had forced Melany to drag her mum home the last time they’d been out.
So tonight, it would stop.
Melany admired herself one last time in the mirror —long legs clad in a short skirt, hair and eyebrows on fleek, revealing but-not-too-revealing top, she was ready for a fun night. She stepped out of her bedroom. Her mother was in the corridor, putting her heels on. She was wearing a short dress that was way too tight for Melany’s comfort. To be fair to her mother, Sheila had kept herself in shape, and was a beautiful woman still. The milf jokes in college had been relentless.
“Mom…” Melany started.
“Oh please, sweetie! I know you said last time that I embarrassed you, but I promise I will be on my best behavior tonight!”
“Mom… I love you, but maybe I could have one night out on my own, for a change?”
“Oh but sweetie, I got myself all pretty and…”
“I’m not dragging you out of the club again!” she said,
“No no, I promise! Best behavior, nothing embarrassing,” her mum replied.
“You remember what would happen when I misbehaved as a kid?” she asked, innocently.
“When bratty Melany came out?” her mother said with a smile.
“Well, I…” her mum stuttered
“You spanked me, right?”
“Well, hum, yes…”
“So, if you don’t behave tonight…”
“Oh, you can’t possibly mean…” Sheila said, blushing.
Melany crossed her arms.
“Either you agree to it or I’m going alone.”
It was Sheila’s turn to pout, blushing hard.
“I’m not going to embarrass you…” she started.
“Mom! Promise me,” the young girl insisted.
“And if you do embarrass me?” asked Melany again.
“Then… you can s-spank me…” her mum stammered, a nervous finger on her lips.
Melany nodded, “I’ll hold you to it!” she said, then went to the door, and they both left for the club.
Not two hours later, the door opened again, and a furious Melany was dragging her mother in by the wrist.
“But sweeeetie!” the older woman was saying, “It was just a couple shots and…”
“You were GRABBING his BUTT in middle of the dancefloor, MOM!” Melany yelled.
“Well, it was quite firm, really…”
“Mom, you’re drunk!”
“Oh, maybe, but it’s so fun!”
“That guy is in my class, mom!”
“Well, you didn’t tell me they had nice asses in your class, you know!”
“Whaaat?” Sheila asked, smiling.
“You remember what we said, right?”
“About you embarrassing me again!”
“Oh that… You didn’t really mean it, sweetie, did you?”
“Oh, didn’t I?” Melany said with a glare.
“You wouldn’t spank your own mother…” Sheila said, shaking her head with a grin. “Now if that boy was to put me over his knees…”
“MOM!” Melany yelled again, and still holding her mum’s wrist, she pulled a chair. Sitting down, she forced the older woman over her lap. Drunk as she was, it took Sheila until the first slap landed on her firm behind to realise what was going on.
“Oww!” she cried out, “Melany? What are you doing?”
“What I should have done a while ago,” her daughter said, landing five slaps in quick succession on her mother’s rear. The woman wriggled her bottom, trying to escape or avoid the heavy slaps somehow, but Melany was holding her firmly in place, and slap after hard slap landed with only the thin fabric of the dress and panties to shield her bottom.
After twenty more, Sheila was feeling the warmth growing in her behind. “All right, okay!” she cried out, “You’ve made your point! I’ll be good.”
“Really, mom?” Melany frowned. “I think I remember my spankings being a lot more bare.”
“Oh no ifs or buts, mom,” said her daughter with a vicious grin. How she had dreamed of this as a teenager when her mum pulled her over her lap. This was payback, she thought, for spanking her in front of her friends that one time. The dress came up, and her hand fell down hard again, and again, and again. By then, her mother was clearly sobering up, and feeling the pain and humiliation much more clearly. The amused comments became little cried, became pleas, became tears.
“All right! I’m sorry! Melany, please…”
The pink cheeks were turning red, much to Melany’s delight, but she wasn’t done yet. The panties were still covering most of her mother’s round, toned bottom, and there was no way they would stay up. “If you’re really sorry, you’ll agree that your panties must come down as well, right?” she asked.
Her mother gasped. “No, please…” she said, “this is so humiliating already…”
“Oh is it?” Melany said with a frown, “And you think my mom groping boys in the club in front of me isn’t?”
“Men your own age from now on, Mom!”
“And don’t even think about bringing one in here!”
“Y-yes, sweetie” her mother sobbed.
“Am I taking your panties down?”
“Do you deserve a good, bare bottom spanking?”
Sheila didn’t answer but didn’t protest further when her daughter grabbed her panties’ waist band and lowered them to mid-thigh. From then on, there was nothing but raw pain and the sound of hard slaps filling the room, punctuated by Sheila’s sobs and sniffles. She knew her daughter and how she always achieved what she set her mind to. This spanking was going to end when Melany decided it would, and not a second before. Sheila’s bottom and thighs were burning, probably bright red by now, and she wondered if she would be able to sit at all come the morning. At the very least, she would be sleeping on her side tonight, she knew.
Still, she thought, that boy in the club had had one hell of a cute ass.
I’m not saying that she was asking for it, but as I closed the door to our tiny apartment, she was lying over the back of the sofa, her tight skirt-clad bottom gently swaying up in the air, enticing me, beckoning me over. Next to her, precariously balanced on the back of the sofa was a hairbrush, a silicon spatula and a belt, waiting for me. From the tightness of her skirt, I could see that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. She didn’t say a word and shook her bottom a little more, as if a taunt.
Not one to go against her wishes, I uncuffed my shirt and rolled up its sleeves. I appreciate comfort, you see, and I didn’t want to give her a subpar performance. After all, she had gone through all that trouble to… lie around waiting for me, I guess. There probably were a hundred reasons for her to deserve a spanking, and, truthfully, I didn’t really need to know which one had brought that about right then and there.
Instead, I put the tip of my fingers in the small of her back, and felt her shiver. A small moan escaped from her lips, and I noticed that she was wearing a blindfold. One hand still on her back, the other slid across the skirt and cupped her round cheeks. She shook her bottom a little more, pushing it into my hand. I went down to her thighs and caressed them, seemingly at random, losing my hand between them. Her breathing was getting harder already, and she spread her legs a little.
Bending down, I laid a soft kiss on her right cheek, then immediately followed with a hard slap that pushed her hard against the back of our sofa. She cried out, but said nothing more. I spanked her left cheek just as hard, and she pressed herself against the sofa again. She raised her bottom up, tiptoeing in her heels, wordlessly begging for more. Being a gentleman, I obliged.
Slap after slap, she cried and moaned and heaved. At some point, her skirt had come up, revealing that I had indeed been right and that no underwear was to be found underneath it. Her pearly white cheeks had gone to pink, to red, to bright, deep crimson. I could see that her blindfold was getting wet, and that she was biting her lips not to cry harder. Between her thighs, the pearling wetness was an invitation and I couldn’t help but slide my fingers over it, caressing, probing, and teasing her. She pressed her legs shut and pushed her bottom out. Clearly, it wasn’t time for that yet. I grabbed the hairbrush.
Later, finally satisfied, she ripped the blindfold off, panting. On trembling legs, she got up. Without looking at me, she started walking towards our bedroom. Then, looking back over her shoulders and with her tongue licking her lips, she asked:
“Well? Is that all you’ve got?”
Apparently, the day after V day is Slap Day to some people… Seemed fitting!
It’s also singles awareness day, so if you are single and would like a hug, come over here and get a big one!
As always, I love you all!
If I take you over my knee And punish you mercilessly Will you be mine? Will you be mine? If I spank you with hand and brush And make both pairs of your cheeks blush Will you be mine? Will you be mine? If I cane your trembling bottom The colour of leaves in autumn Will you be mine? Will you be mine? If I promise I’ll make you cry While telling you exactly why Will you be mine? Will you be mine? If I promise to hold you tight And hold you close throughout the night Will you be mine, will you opine? Love, will you be my Valentine?