Lisa

Lisa Brown sat behind her desk at the office, sipping her morning coffee, whilst mulling the problem that had vexed her for so long, virtually since childhood in fact.  Now, as she was approaching her fortieth year, she realised that if she wanted to realise her dream, she was going to have to be more proactive.  Her dream?  She desperately wanted a spanking, and not just a spanking, but a very,very hard one; a thorough beating that would bring tears to her pretty green eyes, leaving sore red marks on her bottom for days afterwards.

It wasn’t really a dream even anymore, it was more of an obsession; a demon that needed to be exorcised, if only to stop it from tormenting her.

She was a handsome woman in the eyes of most of the men who met her.  They paid her compliments, opened doors for her; admired her legs as she walked past.  Her long straight auburn hair with the curled up tips was the envy of many of her female colleagues.  While she was by no means skinny, at five feet four inches in her stockings and weighing in at just less than 140 pounds she was well proportioned.

As she sipped her coffee, she crossed her legs making the hose swish as she thought a little more of the spanking she yearned for.  For fun it would always be an OTK spanking but what she really wanted, perhaps for just once in her life, was to be scolded and punished for real, like the heroines were in her favourite books such as Jayne Eyre.  She wanted to have the red searing marks on her bottom, and feel fear and shame, as the strap (that was her preference) or cane, tore into her exposed backside leaving her gasping for breath.

“A penny for them!” said her colleague Joan, who sat at the next desk and had noticed the glazed look in her eyes.

“Uh?” replied Lisa, her train of thought suddenly interrupted.

“Your thoughts: a penny for them.  You looked miles away!”

Lisa suddenly blushed as she stammered, “Oh nothing of consequence!”

She received a knowing look from Joan in return.

“Yeah right.  Who were you fantasising about girlie?  That guy from the sales office I shouldn’t wonder.”

“Can’t a girl have any secrets around here?” asked Lisa, grateful to admit to a minor falsehood than be confronted with the truth.  “Anyway, it wasn’t him.”  Her “admission” left the field open for just about every eligible guy in the city and successfully stopped the interrogation in its tracks.

Not that Lisa was in the market for anyone.  She had a loving husband, a nice house, and a pet cat.  It was all that she needed at that time.  Affairs with other men she would avoid at all costs.  It just lead to heartache, and the world had enough of that without her making a contribution.  Okay, Joe had his faults, but she could live with them.  No one was ever perfect, and the grass always appeared to be greener on the other side of the fence.

One of Joe’s “faults” was that he was not interested in spanking her, even when she almost pleaded with him.  Beating a woman was simply not his idea of how a real man should behave, and he said so in no uncertain terms.  In BDSM terms he was a “vanilla” but on balance, it was far better to have a gentle and kind husband like him, than a brute who dealt out regular beatings just for the pleasure of hurting someone.

But the problem was that Lisa needed to be disciplined and if Joe was not prepared to do it, who would be?   A trusted friend might have been one option, but friends could turn out to be a liability if they knew too much.  If you quarrelled, there was no telling what information might be disclosed to third parties, simply out of spite.  No, close friends were tempting, but not the answer.

Neither were random strangers who advertised in the small ads columns of magazines.  They were a complete "no", unless you were a total fool.  Lisa shuddered to think about it, remembering some of the creeps who had showed up when, out of curiosity in the days before Joe had come along, she and a couple of friends had answered adds for a lark, just to see what happened.

After agonising long and hard, and amid much soul-searching, Lisa eventually came to the conclusion that the safest and surest way of achieving her goal, was through a professional who knew what they were doing.  That way, the beating would be administered dispassionately, there would be no repercussions and she would get exactly what she wanted with no questions asked.  She would simply have to pay the price, take the punishment, and leave.

*****

Once that she had finally made the arrangements, Lisa began to feel a sense of excitement that was bordering upon euphoria. and when the appointed day arrived, she could scarcely contain herself.

She was unsure what to wear at first.  Trousers and a top had initially come to mind but, the more she thought it over, they were not in fact the best option at all.  Okay, maybe if she had to run away or something, but that was just being negative.  Provided that everything went according to plan, the trousers would have to come off at some stage, and for sheer convenience, not to mention comfort, a skirt would be by far the better option.

Also she wanted to look and feel smart, because that was what her fantasy demanded.  So, sorting through her wardrobe, she selected a white shirt and black pinafore dress, over white bra, panties and half-slip.  She wore comfortable pair of black shoes and tan hose to complete the outfit, admiring the results in the full length mirror in her bedroom, before she left to keep the appointment.

“Joanne” lived in a semi-detached house in a respectable neighbourhood.  It was not her real name of course, but it was the one she used with her clients.  Lisa found her through the personal adverts of a specialist magazine, and having telephoned to make the initial enquiry, she had been impressed with how ordinary and kindly the woman had sounded.  In the end, it had been just like making an appointment to see a doctor or solicitor.


For her own peace of mind she had asked a friend to drop her at the address, and arranged to be collected an hour later.  That way she would not go un-missed if things did not turn out well, but in truth, she was not expecting problems because Joanne made no visible attempt to be secretive about her profession.  Even so, it was not without some trepidation that Lisa approached the wooden front door, with its 1930s stained glass, and rang the doorbell.  Through the frosted glass she perceived movement and presently the door was opened by a shortish lady in a green dress.   She was about forty years old, with dark wavy hair and a friendly smiling face.  Had one known any different, she would pass for a favourite aunt.


“Hello my dear,” she said cheerfully.  “Come on in and don’t be afraid.  I don’t bite.”


Her mind at ease, Lisa stepped inside.  The hallway was light and airy; there were some tasteful furnishings and a big vase of fresh flowers on a polished table that stood just inside the door.  Further up the hall stood a long-case clock, ticking rhythmically.  There was no other appreciable sound in the house.  It was all so peaceful.


“Don’t take this the wrong way my dear,” said Joanne, “but can we get the financial considerations over with first?  It makes things simpler, and once it’s done we concentrate on your requirements, without having to worry about it.”


“No, of course,” replied Lisa.  “It was one hundred wasn’t it?”  She reached inside her handbag taking out an envelope which she handed over.


Joanne took it and put it in the table drawer.


“Aren’t you going to count it?” asked Lisa, rather surprised that the other woman had taken it on trust.


Joanne shook her head and smiled.  “No; of course I’m not.”  she said.  “That would be vulgar.  I trust everyone until they give me cause to think otherwise.   Now if you follow me we have some business to attend to.”


Sensing a little hesitancy she smiled again, saying reassuringly: “It’s all right dear, there isn’t anyone else here.  I live alone and my next client isn’t coming until seven o’clock.   It won’t take long to sort you out, and we will have time for a cup of tea before your friend comes to pick you up.”


“You know I have someone collecting me?” asked Lisa.


“I would be surprised if you didn’t,” replied Joanne. “You look like a sensible woman to me and it is your first time here.  It is always best to be cautious.  Now don’t be nervous; you are here for pleasure, although some might not see it like that, given that it entails a certain amount of discomfort.  I don’t think you will be disappointed in that respect.”


She led the way down the hall and through a door into a room that was kitted out as a schoolroom, with desks and a blackboard.  “This is where I conduct my role-play sessions.”  Joanne explained.  “Most of my clients have a school fetish of some kind.   In fact, I think it’s probably something nearly everyone shares to some degree.
 
"Now, let me see, I think the strap I need is in here.” she said, opening a cupboard door.  “Ah yes, here it is.  I think you will appreciate this one.  It’s not too heavy but it carries a nice vibrant sting that will make you jump a bit.  It’s what you might describe as the 'entry level' model”


The strap she produced looked anything but "entry level" to Lisa's admittedly unpractised eye.  It was about two feet long, perhaps a couple of inches wide, supple, and made of thick black leather. 


Joanne turned to face Lisa, who suddenly realised, that the time for prevarication had passed.  Her waiting was over and the moment that she had dreamt of for so long had finally arrived.  A dreadful gnawing gripped her in the pit of the stomach.  She pinched the cheeks of her buttocks together as a feeling of panic threatened to overwhelm her.  Her knees went weak and began to knock involuntarily; she began to breathe heavily and her throat was dry.


“I - I…..” she stammered uncomfortably.


Joanne smiled.  “It’s okay.” She said reassuringly.  “Just do as you are told and it will be alright.  Lift up your skirt and bend over this desk.”  She was pointing to the desk in the centre of a row of three.  “Don’t be frightened.  It’s going to hurt quite a bit and there will be marks, but I won’t cause any lasting damage.  I haven’t lost a client yet.”


Self-consciously and with her heart pounding, Lisa obeyed the instruction, gripping the hem of her skirt and slip, pulling them up to waist height and arranging herself over the desk.  The wood felt hard against her tummy.  She felt so exposed and vulnerable with her undies showing.


Suddenly her knickers and tights were pulled briskly down to her knees, and she felt the cold smooth leather of the strap dancing lightly against the bared skin of her naked buttocks.  Any minute now and her torment would begin.  She suddenly realised that she didn't know quite what to expect; how bad the pain would be, or what sort of pain even.  She didn't even know how many strokes there would be.  She had left it up to Joanne, with the instructions to give them "good and hard".  Had that been wise, she wondered?

"Now listen my dear because this is quite important."  It was Joanne talking to her.  "You have come here with a particular set of requirements and I don't want any nonsense.  I want you to control yourself and behave impeccably, which means doing exactly what I tell you from now until the time I tell you different.  I am not an ogre, but this is business, and I have been commissioned to provide a service to you, the client.  There will be no jumping about, stamping of feet, tantrums or leaving your position.  If you do you will be out on your ear and I don't give refunds.  Are we clear?"

Yes ma'am."

"Good.  Now I am going to tell you so that you are in no doubt that these swats are not going to be love pats.  This is the real McCoy and you are going to hate it so much you will be grateful when it's over.  It is only fair that you know that so there is no misunderstanding.  Your ass is going to sting as though you have sat on a hornets nest, and there are going to be marks as a consequence.  Now, you have the option to abort this or we continue with your punishment.  Do you wish to continue?

Something akin to panic gripped Lisa but she had come so far now that to give up would merely leave her feeling like a failure and it would be more embarrassing to back out than to take the punishment.  She would never go this far again if she gave up, and she would spend the rest of her life wondering, and wishing for what might have been. 

"Carry on." she whispered, gripping the legs of the desk so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

Joanne's sudden change of manner had thrown her momentarily, but then she understood that it was not sinister in the slightest.  This was a punishment experience and it was right that it should be administered in an atmosphere of solemnity.  Indeed, that had been her request; to be as realistic as possible.  Joanne was only obeying her instructions.  A real bona fide bawling out, such as her fantasy required, would have been slightly ridiculous and contrived.

"Right missy" said Joanne menacingly.  "Now you hold on to the desk and don't let go."

With that, suddenly and without warning, Lisa's whole world imploded.

CRACK!  CRACK!  CRACK!

Three swats from the strap landed on her ass in quick succession and the most unimaginable pain cascaded in all directions from both cheeks, stinging so viciously that she thought her brain was going to explode.

"Aaaaah Jesus!" she screamed.  "Ow!  Ow!  Ow!  Oh my God that hurts!"

"Don't you dare to blaspheme in this house young lady!" came Joanne's cold voice from behind her.

CRACK!  CRACK!  CRACK!

Lisa clamped her jaws together and managed to remain silent this time.  How pathetic she felt to be begging so soon.  This was not at all how it was in her fantasy, but the pain was so much worse that she had ever imagined.    Somehow it had been a kinder more bearable pain in her dreams; this was sheer agony!

CRACK!  CRACK!  CRACK!

"Aaaaaaargh!   Aaaaaargh!  Aaaaaaaaaaargh!"

Lisa was screaming at the top of her voice.   Somehow she held on to the desk but this was so shameful to be making such a fuss.  She was humiliating herself but she couldn't help it.

CRACK!  CRACK!  CRACK!

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!  No!  Please!  That's enough!"  Lisa pleaded pathetically once again whilst tensing for the next three, but desperately hoping they would not come.

"So you think you have learned your lesson do you?"  asked Joanne sternly.

"Yes! Yes!"  sobbed Lisa.

"Last three then!  Hold still or there will be extras!"

There was a pause while Lisa was given time to control herself.

CRACK!  CRACK!  CRACK!

"Oooooooh!  Dear Jesus that stings!"  The tears formed in her eyes as she remained in position, desperate to avoid any penalty strokes.  At last Joanne spoke.  Suddenly her voice had changed back to the kindly matronly aunt of before, as though none of the strapping had occurred.

"Right dear." she said gently.  "Get up and sort your clothes out; then go and stand in the corner of the room with your hands clasped behind your head.  You will have ten minutes to reflect on matters and  remember that you are still under punishment.  If I catch you rubbing your bottom there will be trouble.  Do you understand?"

Sniffling back the tears, Lisa nodded and whispered "Yes Miss."  Then she pulled up her panties and hose, pulled down her slip and skirt, and went to the corner, standing with her nose pushed against the wall.  Her bottom felt as though she had sat on a nest if vipers but, and this was very strange indeed, she somehow felt liberated.  She could not really understand it, but the pain was making her sexually aroused, and her vagina was feeling distinctly moist. 

Corner time was actually something that had played very little role in Lisa's fantasies.  But as she stood there, hands clasped firmly behind her head, denied the relief of rubbing away the pain, the institution took on an importance hitherto unappreciated.  In some way, it seemed absolutely right that the penitent should take time to come to terms with the physical effects of her punishment, in a period of quiet reflection.  She fidgeted uncomfortably, half crossing first one leg and then the other, just trying to gain a little ease from the nagging pain; it did not work.  In the end she was glad she had worn a skirt because at least she did not have tight trousers pinching the welts which she knew must be rapidly developing under her panties.

From another part of the house which was presumably the kitchen, she could hear activity and the clink of cups and saucers.  Joanne was making tea; how civilised.  She had just given Lisa the belting of a lifetime and presently they were going to sit down and take tea like two old friends.

As if to underline the surreal nature of this false normality, Lisa felt a furry sensation rubbing against her legs and looking down, there was a big ginger cat that had come to investigate, or perhaps gloat.  After all, she was not the first punished pupil to stand in the corner, merely the latest in a whole line of raw stinging bottoms.  

It seemed as though she had stood there for hours but it could only have been about ten minutes when Joanne popped her head round the door and said in her kindly voice "Okay dear, your punishment is officially completed.  Come on in the lounge and have a cup of tea."

Lisa put her hands down, immediately grasping her bottom through the material of her skirt.  Oh, it was good to rub it, but unfortunately the relief was only temporary, for the throbbing persisted to the extent that it over-rode any attempt at reduction.  She was going to have to accept that a hard strapping would last considerably longer than a few minutes, not that she was too disappointed by that.

She followed Joanne into the lounge and gingerly sat down in an armchair.  She had obviously read all of the stories about people being unable to sit down after punishment but in her case, although it wasn't comfortable, she was at least able to bear it.  She took her tea and sipped it gratefully.

"Well then dear." said Joanne kindly.  "What did you think of your first real punishment?  Have you any complaints?  You did take it well I must say.  Some of my clients would have made a terrible fuss!" 

How did she feel?  It was difficult to say really.  Sore obviously, but also kind of warm and comforted, as though she had achieved something.  Joanne's compliments made her feel good.  In the end she replied "It hurts a bit, but funnily enough it feels quite pleasant now.  I'm glad you didn't go easy on me."

"No, I certainly did not!" smiled Joanne.  "I have a certain reputation to maintain.  Clients who come to me get the full treatment or none at all.  Some get it harder than others of course.  What you got was the mid-range standard school strapping but double the strokes.  I find that it's a good level to begin with, and then you can always work up to the harder stuff later on."

"You mean that it gets harder?" exclaimed Lisa, astonished.  "Wow!  What I got was plenty thank you!"

Joanne smiled at her and shook her head, as though she found the remarks naive, which of course they were.

"Good heavens, you have no idea.  What you had is usually enough to satisfy the ladies, but the men, dear me; some of them liked to be whipped so hard it bleeds.  I'm not too keen on blood myself and I try to avoid it to be honest.  I only do that for special clients that I know well."

"Well I have no complaints!" smiled Lisa genuinely.  "You whacked me good and proper.  Anyway, I had better go now.  I must have been here an hour."

"Yes you have, but don't worry.  It's nice to have a little chat with the client afterwards.  Would you like a couple more whacks on the house?"  Joanne was smiling but the offer looked genuine.

"Oh no thanks very much!" retorted Lisa, putting her cup down on the table and heading towards the door.  "What I have had is fine.  I don't want to be greedy.  I can always come back for more another time can't I?"

"Of course you can dear.  It has been a pleasure to meet you."

They shook hands and Lisa walked out into the street.  Andrea, her friend was sitting in her car a little further down the road.

"Everything alright?" she asked, as Lisa got in the car.  "Shall be go for a coffee?" 

"It's a nice idea but there is something I have to do at home." replied Lisa  "Can we make it Thursday?"

"Of course we can," said Andrea.  "I will look forward to it.  You can bring me up to speed with all the news."

Lisa smiled.  Perhaps not all the news, she thought to herself.