#840) She Laid Down a Girl and Got Up a Woman

Mary was running late, so she tried to make up the difference by speeding across town. So, of course, she was stuck for much of her trip behind a blue-rinse geriatric, a little old lady who could barely see above her steering wheel. By the time Mary got past her, she felt even more pressed for time. The stoplight ahead was changing, but Mary decided to blast through nonetheless. By the time Mary was entering the intersection, it was no longer amber; the light was full-on red.
The opposing traffic had no one waiting at the light, but a young male driver was of the same mind as Mary, late and wanting to catch-up. He saw that the light was changing and thought he had it timed perfectly, proceeding through just as his light turned green. He couldn’t even react as Mary sped through the four-way exchange. At full speed, he hit the rear bumper of Mary’s car.
You can never find a cop when you need one, so of course, a patrol cruiser was right behind the male driver and saw the whole thing.
“He could have been more cautious, but you are entirely at fault, ma’am,” he told Mary, both running a red light and for the collision. Then he proceeded to write her up.
The citation hurt, but calling Mary “ma’am” added insult to injury. She wasn’t hurt physically, but both cars sure were. This accident was going to be expensive!
The good news was that the car was still drivable, the bad news was that this meant Bob was certain to see the damage when he returned home from work. And he did, and he hit the proverbial roof.
“Have you any idea how much this is going to raise our insurance premium?” he asked rhetorically.
“You know, I’ve always hated the concept behind all insurance,” Mary pontificated. “Humans are fallible, accidents happen. I hate that some corporation gets rich on this. And then, we still have to argue with that corporation to provide coverage, even though we’ve paid them for…”
Bob was exasperated. It showed in the fact that he was no longer yelling and raving. He got very quiet.
“I’ve tried to be understanding,” he interrupted in an ominous voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve reasoned and argued, ranted and cajoled, and nothing has worked with you, Mary.” They looked at one another as he pronounced, “I’m going to try something completely different…”
The chill that shot up Mary’s spine brought goosebumps across her entire epidermis.
“What are you going to do…?” she quaked.
“It’s what you are going to do…” Bob returned. “You are going to stand up and take all of your clothing off. You are going to lie across my lap on the bed. You are going to submit to the spanking you so richly deserve.
They knew each other’s histories. Bob knew that Mary had never been spanked in her life. She had shared that she was “quite afraid of having physical violence unleashed on her person,” as she put it when they discussed the topic once long ago. Mary knew that Bob had once been in relationship with a woman who described herself as a “spanko-fetishist,” someone who got sexual gratification from being corporally punished across her bottom.
“You really beat her?” Mary asked incredulously.
“She really wanted it, really got off on it,” he replied at the time, in that same conversation early in their relationship. Now, Bob said, “A good, old fashioned, bare bottomed spanking might just be the answer, given that you fear it so…”
“No! Please…”
“I’m at my wit’s end!” he continued in that same stage-whisper that spooked Mary so profoundly. “You simply do not take responsibility for your actions, do not act like a lady of thirty years of age!”
Mary felt put in her place, Bob was nearly twenty years her senior. Now it suddenly felt like he was her daddy, telling her right from wrong and ready to punish all of her wrongs.
“Anything but that, Bobby!” she pleaded as if he’d threatened her with solitary confinement in some black hole. “You don’t understand how I feel about sp…”
“You don’t understand how I feel!” he shot back in that vehement whisper. “I’m ready to end this, this whole thing, I’m fed up! I have to get you to see the need for change… or else…”
“You mean… our relationship…?” she asked. Bob nodded.
The scales fell from Mary’s eyes. She saw the desperation in Bob’s, the sincerity, the urgency of his ultimatum. She began to take her clothing off, every stitch. They both noticed that Mary’s hands were shaking as she did so; what Bob couldn’t see was that Mary’s entire body was quaking.
Mary stood before Bob in her underwear. “Please let me keep these on! They offer no protection to my… bottom, just a little preservation of my dignity…”
“Take them down, Mary.”
She obeyed, blushing hotly. He sat on the bed, held his arms out to help her assume the position.
“Please don’t do this…”
“You’re getting a sound spanking.”
“Then please show me some mercy! It’s my first time… getting it…”
“You need to learn a lesson.” He helped her lie across his lap, her body supported by the bed, so it wasn’t as ignominious as having to lie over his knee.
“I’ve already learned my lesson by having the car accident!” she protested.
THAT says it all, he thought! He resolved to teach her that she hadn’t learned anything yet by punishing her hard, then continuing to punish Mary for the problem itself. “You are making this worse for yourself,” was all he said. He looked at the bare buttocks perched so provocatively on his lap. How he loved her shape, particularly her posterior! What a pert and perfect tush! How it hurt him to have to punish it hard, bruise it. But if ever a young lady needed it…
“What about consent? Aren’t people who are into this kind of thing… spanking, always stressing that it’s supposed to be consensual?” Mary asked with desperation evident in her voice.
She wasn’t listening. She deserved what was coming. Bob tried not to see red as he calmed himself enough to reply, “Does the naughty little girl over her father’s knee consent? That’s what you are, Mary! That’s what this is…”
He began to spank her. Well placed, hard swats, alternating back and forth on each cheek, with every fifth swat right across the butt crack, where she’d feel it deep in her orifices, right up her spinal column. As he belabored her buttocks, Bob lectured the love-of-his-life.
“You’ve had this coming, Mary. You’ve needed this for a real long time, probably since you were a little girl! Your parents’ negligence means that you need it all the worse as an adult. And you’re going to get it. You are in store for a long, thorough bare bottom spanking all evening long…” He punctuated every other word with a spank. Mary wriggled, whimpered, then bounced about on the bed, sobbing and screaming, “That hurts! No! Stop! Don’t!” as her punishment progressed.
Only when her bottom was entirely cherry red did Bob stop for a brief breather.
“Do you acknowledge that you’ve been reckless, imprudent, rude, in need of correction for a great long time, young lady?”
“I do not!” she answered.
“Then more is necessary before we get to punishing you for the car accident itself,” Bob retorted, resuming the spanking. He gave it to her. For virginal butt cheeks, they certainly withstood a fearsome onslaught.
“Okay, okay, I can be a bitch! Is that what you want to hear?” Mary eventually yelled over her shoulder.
“Yes,” and Bob rubbed her enflamed fanny for a moment. “I think that we ought to give this butt a break. Please go stand in the corner for a few minutes.”
To his amazement, Mary got up and scampered into the corner right away, rubbing her backside as she went. He saw her trying her best to get a look at her bottom, but being unsuccessful. So, Bob got up and took a lightweight full-length mirror off one wall and positioned it so that Mary would be able to see her rear reflected in the mirror in front of her, once she re-assumed her position on the bed.
“The sooner we resume, the sooner this will all be over. Please come back here, Mary.” Again she obeyed contritely. “On your way, please pull your hairbrush from your purse and give it to me…” She did this, too, but as she handed it to Bob, she hesitated.
“Wait… you don’t intend to use that on my hair, do you?”
Bob didn’t answer.
“You’re going to paddle me? I’m already sore as can be! Bobby, please…”
He rested the cool flat of the wood against her red, hot bottom. “You need to be able to look back at this day as a turning point, the first day of the rest of your life. This has to be a memorable punishment. Now, take your medicine…” Bob raised the hairbrush high, he brought it down hard.
“Oh… fuck… don’t… stop!” she growled as wallops descended onto her sore seat.
“What? I don’t intend to stop,” her man responded to what he thought he heard, and he increased the tempo.
“No… I mean…” but the rest was unintelligible blubbering.
Bob continued to scold as he scalded her backside with the paddle. “I intend to paddle a tattoo into your butt that you’ll feel for a week. You are going to be black and blue, stiff and sore, and that’s a good thing. It’ll be a reminder that that was the old you, that you are not that foolish little girl anymore, that you are a responsible grown-up…”
“Iargh gharb dafffing noomf,” Mary sobbed. She didn’t flinch after the spanks anymore, all the starch had been taken out of her. His job, for the moment, at least, was done. He helped her sit up, sit on his lap, cuddle close, and cry it all out.
After moments of this, when Mary could talk once more, she whispered in her lover’s ear, “Make love with me…! Show me that all is forgiven…”
Bob held her closer and kissed the top of her head, but refused.
“Not yet. I want your lesson to sink in right now. I want you wallowing in that head space where you feel well-chastised, it’s called subspace. We’ll make love at bedtime, I promise…”
“Do I have to stand in the corner again?”
“No. Why don’t you lie right here, and think about the afternoon…”
Mary crawled into a fetal ball while in that hiccupping, post-sobbing state. She kept one reassuring hand on her bottom, while the other found its way into her crotch. She wasn’t turned-on by the harsh punishment, per se; it was more that she felt cleansed and purified, and that this was kind of sexy. Mary didn’t masturbate, just felt her sex throb hungrily. And in this altered state, words come out.
“I needed to be spanked… and you spanked me very hard…! I hope I don’t need another spanking from you for a long time… But I think I will need a reminder, sooner or later… and I don’t fear it anymore… I welcome it. You know, at times, your scolding hurt me more than your spanking did… I think I laid down over your lap as a little girl… and I’m now a woman… My mom used that phrase about having sex for the first time when she gave me The Talk… but this was kind of like that… no longer virginal… I really want to fuck you, Bobby! Can’t we? Then, can I touch myself?”
Receiving his nod to this last request, Mary slowly, tentatively touched her sex, opened herself, explored, titillated, teased, coaxed her clitoris out to play.
“You should have spanked me long ago, Bobby! If I’d only known that it would awaken feelings in me like this…”
Bob tried not to stare, but it didn’t matter. Mary’s eyes were closed, she was far away. He also wanted to hold off, but wasn’t strong enough to resist Mary’s intoxicating allure. He took off his clothes while watching her touch herself. Lying down next to her, Mary immediately pulled him into her embrace, pulled him into her close, pulled his manhood into her excited sex, and set the slow, luxurious pace of a languid, erotic fuck.
His cock cleaving into her core seemed to rouse Mary from her somnambulist state. Her eyes opened wide and looked lovingly into his.
“This doesn’t mean that we can’t make love again at bedtime, does it, lover?” she whispered.
“No, no it doesn’t, sweetheart.”

2 responses to “#840) She Laid Down a Girl and Got Up a Woman”

  1. For all of the lust and sexuality, for all of the intense cravings and desire, I can only imagine what it might be for a spouse to love so much that they discipline to truly teach, encourage, and nurture the love of their life. Oh to be so loved, valued and forgiven!

    Bless you Jean Marie for such a beautiful story!

    Liked by 1 person

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