Darlene 1

F Self, M/F, Spanking, Bondage, Humiliation

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I found this story on an old backup disk that I was checking for content before destroying. MANY years ago while I was in college, I got into a "discussion" with an English major about writing - specifically writing porn. Since I wasn't an English major, Darlene said that I couldn't possibly understand how to create a good erotic story. After bickering back and forth for most of a semester we came up with a contest and wager that would prove which of us could write better erotic fiction. The plan was simple. Each of us would write a "letter to the editor" format story and the one that got published was the winner. A further requirement was that each of us would write the story in the other's name. I would write as though I were a woman, and she would write as though she were a man.

Since we were talking about erotic stories, the bet was also erotic, but no real sex. If she won, I would be her naked slave for a weekend. Primarily she wanted me to clean her apartment in the nude, then make dinner for her and her apartment mates and serve it to them dressed in just cuffs, collar and bow tie. If I won, she would end up getting a naked-ass spanking on the bench under the flagpole in the center of the quad. Obviously, that would have to be in the middle of the night. It was a teacher's college and this was a LONG time ago.

I was tempted to update the story to remove references that are out of date, but I decided to leave it as written and let the reader better guess how long ago it was written.

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It was just before five on Friday evening. I looked angrily at Darlene's reflection in the mirror. Her hands were stained with various colors of ink. Her white dress had large splotches of chocolate across it. Her face was smudged with ink where she had pushed her hair up out of her eyes. She looked just like she felt, all messed up.

Darlene had been a very bad girl today. First she went out at lunch and picked up a cheeseburger and fries rather than drink the diet mix she had brought from home. Then, because she was running late, and against office rules, she brought her milk shake back to work to finish at her desk. Naturally, she spilled it not only all over herself, but also all over a stack of overhead projector transparencies on her desk. One of the salesmen had left them there for her to put in protectors so he could use them at an important out-of-town sales presentation tomorrow afternoon.

The transparencies were all smudged, and when Darlene attempted to clean them, the ink smeared and most of them were ruined. Mr. Ericson had very, very kindly let Darlene come home early and clean herself up after she had printed new slides out of the computer and prepared a special overnight delivery package to be sent to the salesman's hotel. Without the transparencies, the presentation would be wasted.

"Because you went out to lunch", I began, "you will wear your slave chains all weekend and clean the apartment in the nude with all the curtains open for anyone to see you like the useless slut that you are. Because you spilled your milk shake all over your good dress, you will wear nipple clamps until the apartment is spotlessly clean."

I looked Darlene directly in the eyes and continued, "Mr. Ericson should be the one to punish you for ruining the transparencies. The salesman had to leave without them in order not to miss his plane, and overnight packages are not cheap. The package will even cost extra because it has to be a Saturday morning delivery. That little mistake will cost you twenty-five hard ones with the paddle. Now strip and prepare to receive your punishment."

Darlene quickly removed her clothing and stood naked in front of the mirror. I got out the "special purse" that I make Darlene keep in her closet. It contains the slave chain and other necessary items for Darlene's punishment. It also contained a large vibrator with various attachments for those rare days when Darlene is a very good girl.

I began by locking on the slave chain. The slave chain is actually just a length of solid chain and two padlocks. First it is put around the waist like a very tight belt with one of the locks connecting it in back. Then, the remaining length of chain is brought forward between Darlene's legs and locked to the front of the chain.

When I first bought the chain, I made Darlene go back to the hardware store twice to have links cut off so that it would fit exactly. The clerk wondered why she blushed such a deep red when he said, "I hope this fits tightly now."

Today, because Darlene had been such a bad girl, I pulled the chain extra tight so that two links were hanging loose past the lock. The chain fit between Darlene's buttocks and pressed tightly against her puckered anus. In front, it dug deeply into her pubic hair. Looking in the mirror, Darlene could see that her tender cleft was split by the chain. She could feel the coolness of the links pressed against the insides of her labia.

I was just getting ready to attach the nipple clamps when the phone rang. "Darlene?"

"Yes"

"This is Mr. Ericson. Where is that package you were supposed to prepare for the sales presentation?"

I suddenly realized that in my hurry to clear my desk so I could leave I had put the overnight package in my desk drawer with my other work. "Oh, It's in my desk."

"YOUR DESK IS LOCKED!!" screamed Mr. Ericson. "And because you lost your key last week and I loaned you the original, you have the only key to your desk. I need you to come back here immediately before the courier has to leave." Then he added, "And I do mean IMMEDIATELY!!!"

"Mr. Ericson," I said, "I just got home. I'll be there as soon as I change into something more appropriate."

"I don't care if you come down here naked," he replied. "I want that key here in five minutes or there will be hell to pay like you have never seen before in your twenty-three years of life on this earth."

It normally took me almost ten minutes to drive to the office so I stammered, "Yes sir." and hung up the phone. I looked at myself in the mirror for a moment and then thought, "What the hell, the coat covers everything."

I grabbed my keys and my coat and headed for the car. I was half-way to the office before I realized that because I was so flustered I had grabbed my special purse rather than my regular purse. The only keys in the special purse were the ones to the padlocks on the slave chain. Luckily my desk key and my car keys were on the same ring.

It took me eight minutes to get to the office. Mr. Ericson was pacing furiously up and down next to the front door all the while talking rapidly to the courier. "Open the damn desk!" he barked as I came through the office door. I had never seen him so angry.

I quickly opened the desk and handed him the package. He gave it to the courier, looked at his watch, and said, "Only five after five. It still goes out tonight, correct?" The courier nodded and walked quickly to the door.

I turned around to leave when Mr. Ericson's voice stopped me in my tracks. "You're not going anywhere. I am going to lock the front door so we are not disturbed while you take off that coat and wait for me in the office. Then you and I are going to have a little talk about your future with this company."

"But..., but Mr. Ericson," I sputtered.

"Don't give me any buts, young lady. Those transparencies mean keeping or losing a major client. I had to give that courier fifty dollars of company money to convince him to wait for that package. I am still trying to decide whether that fifty comes out of your regular pay, your severance pay, or the skin of your ass. Now take off that coat and go wait for me in my office. I expect to find you standing in front of my desk when I come in there."

She didn't know what to do. At first she was filled with fear and panic, but then a sudden calmness came over her as she realized that years of fantasy were suddenly becoming reality. She wasn't standing in front of a mirror in her apartment telling Darlene what to do or telling Darlene how she would be punished. Mr. Ericson was doing the telling and Darlene was going to do as she was told.

Darlene did exactly that. Darlene did what she was told to do. She dropped the coat off her shoulders as she walked into Mr. Ericson's office. There was a surprised gasp behind her and hurried footsteps as Mr. Ericson quickly locked the front door and then came into his office. He was carrying Darlene's coat when entered. He set it on the desk as he sat down in his chair.

"That's quite an outfit, Darlene. Do you care to explain it?"

"It's a fantasy game I play with myself, sir. If Darlene has been a bad girl she has to wear this slave chain and clean the apartment in the nude with all the curtains open. If she has been a very bad girl, she has to wear nipple clamps while she cleans."

Mr. Ericson looked at Darlene's naked breasts. "Did you think that what you did today was only a little bit bad?"

"No sir, I was a very, very bad girl today. But you called just as I was about to attach the clamps to Darlene's nipples. I had also sentenced her to a hard spanking."

"How do you spank yourself?"

"There is a paddle in the purse in my coat. Darlene's offense with the transparencies called for twenty-five hard swats on the behind."

Mr. Ericson opened the purse and dumped the contents on the desk. He picked up the shiny black paddle and slid it across the desk. "Do it," he ordered.

The paddle looked like a leather footprint lying there on the glass desk top. I reached for the stiff piece of leather, but I couldn't bring myself to pick it up. No one had ever seen me spank myself before. The humiliation was overwhelming. I turned a deeper shade red than I ever thought possible. "Do it NOW!" ordered Mr. Ericson.

I leaned forward on the desk with one arm. With the other I picked up the paddle. I closed my eyes and began to spank Darlene. After two swats, Mr. Ericson said, "You don't even know how to spank someone. Start over and make Darlene count them out loud."

"One, Two, Three, ..."

As I counted, I felt Mr. Ericson's hand on my right breast. His touch caused a sudden, almost electric, feeling between my legs. He rolled the tip of my breast between his fingers and murmured, "You forgot something, didn't you?" Then I felt the sudden bite of the nipple clamp. As I felt the other clamp close down on my left nipple I heard him say harshly, "Did I tell you to stop spanking? When you stop you have to start over. Begin again."

"One, Two, Three, ..."

I knew Mr. Ericson was sitting in his desk chair watching me spank myself. I tried to imagine myself back at my apartment. I tried to tell myself that this was just like the many other self-spankings I had given Darlene, but I couldn't. This time everything was different from any other time before. Maybe it was because I was at work in the office. May it was because my boss was watching me. Maybe it was because I had dreamed of Mr. Ericson spanking me every time I had messed up something at work in the three years I had worked here.

For whatever reason, this spanking was different. Each swat seemed to add fire to the chain between my legs. The warmth moved up my belly, and my hips began to move involuntarily with each swing. I could feel the padlock bouncing against my clit. The chain was beginning to get moist with my own juices. It started slip a little deeper into me with each slap of the paddle. It felt like the insides of my thighs were wet almost down to my knees.

"... Twenty-four, Twenty-five." I knew my ass was bright red. I could feel the heat of where each paddle had stung the flesh. But I didn't care. I didn't want it to end. I leaned against the desk, breathing heavily, my eyes closed tightly.

"Open your eyes and look at me."

Mr. Ericson was standing beside me now. He turned me slightly so he was looking directly into my eyes. "I trust your judgement. You gave yourself twenty-five for what you did at lunch. How many swats do you think you deserve for making me waste company money on a courier and for forcing me to make you come down her tonight to unlock your desk?"

I lowered my eyes to the floor and whispered, "Fifty."

"Look at me when you answer. And speak up when you are asked a question. How many?"

I looked straight into Mr. Ericson's eyes and said firmly, "Fifty, sir. I sentence Darlene to an additional fifty swats with the paddle."

He walked around his desk and sat down on the couch. "I will execute sentence this time. Bring the paddle to me."

I walked over and handed him the paddle. "Lay across my lap", he commanded, and I stretched myself out over him.

"Remember to count each one or I will start over. And, if you make me stop, we begin again. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I answered weakly, and he began.

"One, Two, Three..." My ass was already burning from the first spanking. Each stroke seemed to explode against the flesh of my cheeks. Of course, Mr. Ericson could spank harder that I ever could. And he changed the strength and time of each stroke so I didn't know when it was coming or how hard it would be. And sometimes between strokes he would tweak my nipples or pull on one of the nipple clamps. It was excruciating, but at the same time it was ecstasy.

"Thirty, Thirty-one, Thirty-two..." I could no longer feel the paddle on my skin. It was as though each stroke was liquid fire going directly into my clit. I pressed myself against his lap and could feel him move beneath me. Suddenly I felt the beginnings of an orgasm boiling up faster and faster within me. I could no longer count. I could no longer think. All I could do was scream with each swat, "Oh... Oh... Oh... "

Suddenly it was over. I don't know when the actual spanking had stopped, but my orgasm seemed to continue long after I could no longer hear the crack of the paddle. After a few minutes, Mr. Ericson said, "Get up."

I stood and faced him. " I should make you start over," he said, " because you lost count. But, you have an apartment to clean. And when you are done cleaning your apartment, you have my whole house to clean. Do you agree to that?"

I silently nodded my head.

Before you clean your apartment, however... before you show all your neighbors what a slut you really are, there are two things you need to do here."

"First, I want you to sit down at the receptionist desk - yes, the one out front by the windows - and I want you to type out everything that happened today. Let me look at it on the word processor before you print it out and sign it. I think the world should know what your slutty fantasies have brought you to. So, I am going to mail your story to my favorite magazine and share you with the world. Do you agree to that?"

Again I silently nodded my head.

"After you finish that, I want you to type out your resignation effective three months from today. Even if I do own the company, there is a company policy against my wife working in the office. Do you agree to that?"

It took a moment for his last statement to sink in, but then I nodded happily and said, "Yes. Yes!"

"Good. If you do a good job writing up what has occurred today and if you clean my house properly tonight, I will see what kind of reward I can think up for you being very good. Tomorrow we will go shopping to see if we can find an appropriate silver chain for you to wear under your wedding dress."

I stared at him for a moment and said, "OK."

So, here I sit - naked except for a slave chain and nipple clamps - in front of a window where anyone driving by on the highway can see me - trying to write out the long story of what has happened to me today. I could have made it much, much shorter by just saying that today my best fantasy ever has become reality. But, after all, Mr. Ericson wanted to share me with the world, and maybe there is someone else out there waiting for their fantasy to come true. Mine has.

Darlene

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END OF STORY

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I don't expect much as this was written many years ago. Hopefully, my writing has improved significantly through the years.

For the record, I never made Darlene and her apartment mates dinner, but I did have to explain to campus security why I was sitting on a bench in the middle of the quad at 2:00 in the morning with a blouse, skirt and pair of panties laying on the bench next to me. Luckily, he didn't look too closely at the bushes around the back side of the flagpole. Neither did he buy my, "They were there when I sat down!" excuse and had me accompany him back to the security office. He also took the clothing "as evidence in case something is going on." I almost ended up going to jail before they finally decided to let me go and see if something turned up. I guess it really didn't help that I was laughing to myself all the time we were walking back to the security office as I thought of Darlene, with her bright red ass, having to sneak back home wearing nothing but a pair of sandals.