Part 1
I brought the hairbrush down, hard on my left buttock followed by a repeat stroke on my right. I was spanking myself bent over the edge of my girlfriend's bed. I had a pair of her used panties in my hand. I was about to deliver the next stroke when I heard.
"What do you think you are doing?"
I turned to see my girlfriend's mother standing at the bedroom door, she had a look of absolute horror on her face.
I froze, stammered something, and tried to cover my nakedness at the same time.
"I asked what are you doing," Vivien asked again. This time there was more of a hard edge to her voice.
"My broadband at home is broken so Fiona said I could work from here today," I stammered.
"That explains why you are here but not what you are doing."
"I got carried away."
Vivien is in her mid-forties and a very good-looking woman. Due to an unfortunate car accident, she was widowed at an early age. She was very upper class, and I am sure she prefers her horses to people. She was looking incredibly angry at me and in her refined upper-class accent asked, "Tell me exactly what you are doing."
I was caught red-handed, or red-bottomed as the case may be, the only option seemed to be complete honesty.
"I saw the hairbrush on Fiona's dresser and thought I would smack my bottom with it."
This was met with complete silence. Finally, I was asked, "What are you holding in your other hand?"
"Fiona's panties," I replied.
"Clean or dirty?"
I did not know if my face could get any redder, but I replied, "Dirty, I took them from the dirty linen basket."
"Why?"
"I was sniffing them."
"Let me get this straight, you were spanking your naked bottom with a hairbrush whilst sniffing my daughters' dirty panties, is that right?"
"Yes," I stammered.
"What would Fiona say if she saw you like this?"
"She would kill me," I answered honestly. Our relationship had not been going well for some time, and Fiona had only reluctantly agreed to let me use her flat today as I had some important calls to make, and I could not get someone to fix my WI-fi until tomorrow.
"Is there any reason I should not tell Fiona that you have abused her trust?"
"Please don't I am sorry; it won't happen again." Even to myself, this sounded pathetic, I sounded like a child caught stealing sweets.
"I know it will not happen again; the question is what to do about it. If this had been my husband it would have been an easy decision, I would have caned him."
I could not believe my ears, she said this in such a matter-of-fact manner as if it was the most normal thing in the world. There was no doubt she meant it, she used to cane her husband. She had an air of authority around her so I should not have been completely surprised.
I have always harboured a secret desire to be punished by a dominant woman, nothing has ever come of it. When I spank myself, I escape into a fantasy world in my head I am being spanked by an authoritarian woman.
"Could you not cane me?" I asked with trepidation.
"What, you want me not to tell Fiona and instead I cane your sorry backside?"
"I would prefer that to you telling Fiona."
She cocked her head on one side and looked at me thoughtfully. "Well, it would have to be a severe punishment, the crime certainly does warrant that."
I hesitated, although I could see light at the end of the tunnel, I was beginning to get scared of my dream coming true. "I would be willing to take that," I stammered.
Another long pause, "Twelve strokes, bare bottom. Fiona is away this weekend. Report to my house on Friday and we will deal with this."
"Thank you." I was both relieved and terrified at the same time.
"To give yourself something to think about. Give yourself six hard strokes now."
"Sorry," I asked.
"Roll onto your front and administer six hard strokes, you deserve it. Now." She shouted the last word.
I gulped and rolled over presenting my backside to her, I reluctantly lifted the brush and brought it down onto my bottom.
"Oh no, much harder than that. Do it like you mean it. That one does not count."
I repeated the stroke much harder. "Better, but the next five full strength."
I did as she asked and after the remaining strokes, my bottom felt like it was on fire.
"That will remind you never to abuse my daughter's trust again, Friday at seven o'clock do not be late."
With this, she left me alone. I dressed and made myself presentable, returned the knickers to the linen basket, and went back to my laptop.
Now that my fantasy looked like coming true, I was dreading Friday. I did not expect any mercy from this dominant woman, this dominant woman who was angry with me. There was however just a tiny part of my subconscious that was excited. But fear was the overriding emotion.
The rest of the week dragged by; I could only think about the forthcoming ordeal.
I saw Fiona on Thursday night. It was not a successful evening once again we argued. This relationship was fast reaching its conclusion. When I got home later that night, I thought of the relationship that was developing with Fiona's mother, it felt like the relationship of a fly with a spider, with the fly being caught in the web.
Throughout Friday my mind was occupied with what might happen that evening, after work I showered and changed and made my way to Vivian's house. She lived in a large, detached house deep in the countryside, I always thought of it as a country estate. I knew she kept horses in a nearby stable yard and the house was surrounded by beautiful countryside. I had always thought of her as the lady of the manor. I knocked on the door at seven and awaited my fate.
Vivien opened the door; she was dressed in a formal skirt and blouse. She did however look stern and very much in control of herself.
