It had been a few months since my lover and future husband, Bill, had begged me to make him my submissive.
From that very first day, when I'd reduced him to a blubbering mess, tears running down his face and his butt aflame, first from a ping pong paddle and then thoroughly welted from switches I'd had him fetch from outside our secluded cottage, I'd maintained a rigorous routine of regular, severe corporal punishment, constantly reinforcing Bill's understanding of his genuine submission to my authority.
I'd told him that I expected three things from him. His obedience, his respectful behavior, and his submission to my discipline and punishment, all enforced through corporal punishment.
From that very first spanking, he'd learned that I was impervious to his begging and sniveling. I'd demonstrated that I could be ruthless and totally without mercy when it came to his spanking.
I wasn't cruel or mean. I guess that I was at least a bit sadistic, as I became wet from his punishment, deriving a sexual thrill from the very act, enhanced by his crying, his red buttocks, and the knowledge that he continued to submit to my regular spanking partly because of his sexual orientation to be submissive, but also in great measure due to his love and devotion to me.
Our little cottage was located on a large estate, the 'big house', as we called it, occupied, now, by only an old woman, half-deaf and confined to a wheel chair.
She was also nearly blind and her multiple disabilities kept her house-bound, assuring us of near-total privacy.
There were no nearby neighbors, and we were convinced that our privacy was total, until one afternoon in early summer.
I'd just finished giving Bill a rather severe thrashing, having secured him first to a make-shift punishment bench that I'd had him fashion from a leather-covered exercise bench, to which he'd attached restraining cuffs for his wrists and ankles, with a final strap half-way down the bench's length, perfect for securing his waist.
Bill's behavior in the past several days had not been acceptable, most especially his impudent attitude and general disregard to my wishes inasmuch as he'd shown a hesitance in obeying my dictates, something that I definitely didn't allow.
As a result, I followed his paddling, this day, with a severe strapping, using one of my thin, leather belts, and finished up with a switching that left his buttocks and thighs a maze of red welts.
Bill was still secured to the bench, his sobbing somewhat abated, with little sniffles and sobs escaping his mouth. He'd learned to take quite severe thrashings and I'd told him more than once of how I was proud of him for having the courage of his convictions, not having once asked me to release him from his pact of servitude to my pleasure and rule since I'd begun his training to be my future husband.
Given a solitude that we'd come to take for granted, I was quite surprised to hear a knocking at the front door.
I was still nude - I'd developed the habit of stripping naked for Bill's punishment - and Bill, of course, was still nude, and very much welted as he lay on the bench, still restrained at wrist, ankle, and waist.
Not thinking of whom it might be, I didn't even bother to put on a robe, opening the door to whoever it might be, unconcerned about my nudity.
I'd grown up in a nudist home and was totally comfortable with my nakedness and didn't really care if the person to whom I opened the door would be surprised or offended by my nudity.
The girl standing on the stoop was positively beautiful. Like me, she was quite short, probably less than five feet, and petite. Small breasted, trim-waisted, with a bubble-butt, her body was a mirror of my own.
Her blond hair, blue eyes, dimples and cute little nose combined to make her elfin features a visual delight.
Her smile lit her face, perfect teeth glistening between lightly glossed lips.
She was dressed in a midi-blouse, her perfect torso and abdomen bared between the blouse and her mini-skirt, worn low on her hips.
It was evident that she wore no bra as her nipples were clearly visible through the diaphanous material of the blouse.
She was evidently shaven on her pubes, as the skirt's waist was below where her pubic hair would have been otherwise.
Her bare legs and feet indicated that she'd not walked far.
I could see her looking past me at Bill's naked body and she didn't seem terribly fazed, either by his welted bottom or by my nudity.
Smiling, she opened her mouth and spoke for the first time, her little-girl voice sounding melodic.
"I've heard you thrashing your boyfriend and wished that I could be here to watch. I've spanked my boyfriends in the past and adore the sound of a man's crying - when it's a result of a woman's corporal punishment.
"I apologize for intruding unannounced and am prepared to be punished for my rudeness, if you'd like to put me onto that bench and give me the thrashing that I need."
I'd never spanked anyone other than Bill and wondered if this girl would be capable of enduring the degree of severity that I had become accustomed to inflicting on him.
