Long Time Coming

Megan suggested the movie and that's how it all started. She was a grad student in Design and knew more than Troy did about such things. Besides, her tastes in movies went much deeper than his interests in college comedies and cheap action movies. They went well together though, and she taught him a lot and helped him expand his horizons. The movie was French and neither of them spoke the language but the subtitles let them understand what was taking place. Troy didn't especially like it, it was some period romance, and he would have much preferred something else but he stuck with it because she seemed to enjoy it.

They rested on the loveseat together, the room dimmed but for two candles in the center of the room. A tightly woven blanket was wrapped around them so they could share each other's warmth.

Troy was bored by the film, which was full of gossip and soap opera style backstabbing. Much of the humor went over his head and he questioned the purpose of the film without an apparent plot. Midway through the film a young boy was spanked by a woman who seemed to be the child's stepmother. It wasn't particularly violent, the boy being bared after being taken over the woman's lap following a temper tantrum. She spanked him soundly, then caressed him as he cried over her lap. Her hand, with its slight, soft fingers, stroked his tender bottom as his cries descended to a warm softness.

Throughout this they both sat still and quiet as Megan's hand stroked Troy's knee slowly. The movie ended and they shared the cooking of dinner, Chicken Tortellini. For the rest of the evening Megan noticed a definite change in Troy. He seemed quieter, a bit meeker than she was used to.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" she asked over the meal.

"N- nothing, hun, why do you ask?"

She appraised him, certain there was something he was hiding but let it go. When they were turning in for the evening he seemed even more reticent. Slightly upset, she pressed him further, only to hear him repeat that nothing was wrong.

Looking at him, she saw his eyes widen when she asked; "Was it the movie?"

He stuttered and froze. Megan knew she had hit upon it then. "You didn't like it?" she asked. "Why not? Was it because the boy got spanked?"

He got into bed quickly. "Just forget about it."

She slid in next to him, her cami bottoms and top sliding beneath the sheets with her. He was turned away. With a hand on his shoulder she whispered, "It's ok, you don't need to be frightened. It's what happens to a boy when his mother needs to put him in his place, it's nothing to be afraid of." He flinched when she touched him but didn't respond. "Troy," she asked, her hand stroking his hair now, "You were spanked as a child, weren't you? It's ok to tell me, I understand."

He didn't respond or acknowledge her and only clenched himself tightly. This was a delicate topic and she knew it would take some time to get him to open up. She continued stroking him quietly, interspersing her touches with gentle kisses on his shoulder, his neck and his cheek. "Baby, talk to me. You're safe."

With a dramatic sigh he rolled over. Looking upwards at the ceiling he addressed her, "It's nothing. If I told you you'd laugh and thing I was a wimp."

Shocked at this, she placed the warmest of kisses on his forehead, encouraging him to go on. "My mother was very strict around the house. She believed children always do best when they're raised with a firm hand across their backside." Megan nodded at this, displaying her understanding. "As you could expect, I was spanked a lot growing up, even when I became a teenager. Though I tried not to, she always made me break down and cry. Even on my sixteenth birthday she was able to bring me to tears with her hairbrush after being late to my own party."

She found this funny, the image of a maturing boy fearing his mother and her spankings even while trying to prove himself a man, though she made no sign of it. His voice wavered and grew in volume. "I always hated the spankings, I thought it was too much and hated how it made me feel. I hated being made to cry, even when I was a man and I don't think it was right."

He curled up beside her then, his cheek resting on her shoulder and she just held him that way, stroking his hair lovingly. After a long amount of quiet passed between them she spoke. Her voice was clear and direct though barely more than a whisper.

"What you experienced is natural. More boys than you know were brought up by the firm discipline of their mothers. It's a healthy part of childhood and one you never forget. As you grow to be a man you think back to those times and remember the love your mother communicated through her hand to your bare backside," she kissed his forehead again and continued. "You begin to realize how much you missed it and you feel out of sorts- confused that you no longer have that guiding force in your life. It's a very common feeling."

He looked up at her, his wide chestnut eyes showing only the deepest of trusts and she gently stroked his cheek. "You feared your mother's spankings, didn't you sweetie?"

He nodded and she waited for him to speak. "I did...they really hurt."

"I know they did, baby. That's why your mommy spanked you. She had to teach you a lesson." He nodded willingly, not noticing her language, as well as her tone, was subtly changing as they spoke. Her voice was becoming softer, more loving. Troy found himself soothed just by watching her lips as her gentle words flowed. "As you grew older you began to miss the ritual of your mommy taking down your pants, bending you over her lap and spanking your bottom until you kicked, until you cried, until you begged her to stop, didn't you?" She looked down at the boy. His mouth was parted, eyes wide and his skin rapidly paling. She had her answer.

She unclasped her arm from around him and, with a soft nudge, ordered him to sit up. Sitting back on his ankles, his palms on his knees, he looked at her. He still seemed too afraid to speak. She sat up to face him and held his eyes as she spoke. "Your mother isn't here anymore but I am in her place." She cautiously watched him to see if he'd react. He seemed rapt, as if lost. Placing a warm hand on his bare knee, she addressed him. "It's been far too long since you've had such discipline in your life and, as you've shown me, it's long overdue. Boys like you need a woman that will spank them even as they grow older. You never get too big for a bare bottomed spanking," he winced at the term and she inwardly smiled. She brushed the hair that hung in his eyes. "I will provide the structure, guidance and love that you've been sorely missing these past years." She paused and raised her voice slightly. "Don't misunderstand me, when I spank you it will hurt. You won't like it. In fact you'll kick your legs, yell and finally cry like you did over your mommy's lap all those years ago."

She saw him swallow nervously and patted his knee. "Up you go sweetie, it's about time we begin." He stood, his eyes never leaving hers and reached for the hem of his shirt. "Uh uh," she warned him. "Leave it on. Just your bottoms." His brow wrinkled, unsure of the reason why but he acquiesced, slipping his thumbs in the waistband of his cotton briefs and lowering them to his knees.

Megan watched as he did, her body reacting to his and he bared himself. He had a lean, strong build that she found so enticing. His legs were strong, with well formed muscles traveling up his hips. As his briefs dropped to his ankles and he stood to face her, she eyed his penis. It was a good length and well formed. She always found it to be one of the best looking ones she'd ever laid eyes on- it was almost pretty. It was half swollen now, pointed toward the ground in obvious arousal.

She rose and seated herself on the edge of the bed. Troy looked completely enraptured as she silently reached for his hand and carefully rested him against her bare thighs. He felt her warmth and groaned inwardly. She smiled to herself and, looking at him in this position, was reminded of how special and sweet he was. Though he was grown, he had always had a streak of boyishness that never left him. She heard it in his laugh, how he kissed her and the look he had when she caught him gazing at her. Here, with his rear end naked and bared to her, he couldn't deny it. His cute butt made him appear like a child. His cheeks clenched and pouted as her left hand tickled and stroked his nether regions. He chuckled slightly at this and, as her hand firmed against his backside, her right hand reassured him by gently stroking his back.

"This is going to sting, baby. You will cry and want it to be over but I won't let up. I'm in charge now and it's now my duty to see you're well spanked. That's something I take very seriously and won't neglect any longer."

He whined audibly and, with a last rub to his soft, plump bottom, raised her palm. She struck on the dead center of his butt, a faint pink handprint blooming in the center of his seat. He didn't fight her, which surprised Megan. In fact, he seemed to resign himself to her discipline. Perhaps he admitted to himself that such treatment was just what he needed, she thought.

She delivered two more quick slaps on his butt and he croaked out tiny sounds of pain from each. The act seemed to reach a deep, feminine part of her that instinctively conveyed how right it was. That she, a strong, loving woman, would take her younger, brash and often disobedient boy over her lap and punish him in the time honored way that women have been dealing with naughty children for so long, felt nothing but natural. She gloried in the maternal feeling that coursed through her chest.

Not able to fight it, she allowed herself a lingering pinch on the plump of his left cheek, causing him to expel a chestful of air he had kept inside himself. Before he finished, she resumed her assault on his backside, landing several quick cracks to his pained bottom that brought the first signs of tears to his eyes. He hid them from her but wasn't able to slow the burn spreading across his cheeks and kicked his legs to fight off the pain.

In doing so, Megan noticed his balls resting against her smooth skin and felt the urgency of his cock growing against her legs. This warmed her, causing her sex to moisten. Not slowing, she continued, this time scolding him as her hand attacked his tender cheeks. "You'll learn what it means to behave when I get through with you young man," she taunted. "I expect to see a change in your demeanor from now on because if I don't I won't hesitate to put you over my lap and spank you like the overgrown child you are!"

These words, couple with the shame they brought him, broke him down. His opened his mouth to let out one unbroken wail as tears streamed down his face freely. His legs scissored, displaying his genitals and anus rudely, as her hand kept a rhythm of powerful, affirming slaps to his bare rear. During his struggle, he gripped his t shirt and, with one strong yank, pulled it from his body and threw it to the floor.

"Pleeeease," he whined. "No more! Please!" He was at a loss, pleading for any means to stop her angry hand from punishing him further. "I'm sorry! I'll be good!" He was blubbering now, just as he had the last time he was spanked by his mother in his sixteenth year.

He did not even realize the change that had come over him. The proud man he was was consumed with the boy inside struggling for attention. He was crying, unashamed now. Megan noticed his distress and felt both pity for his cries and desire for his cock that rubbed lewdly across her lap. His cheeks had turned a deep red and as she felt the warmth of his skin, she slowed her hand until her spanks became lingering touches.

The pain resonating in his hindquarters stopped him from feeling her touch. His nerves, flared to exhaustion by her spanking, left him numb and he lay limply across her knees crying helplessly.

They stayed in that position for what seemed like a long time; the naked man over her lap, spanked and turned into a crying, vulnerable little boy and the loving woman, half naked and filled equally with love and desire for the male she consoled with her hand caressing his tender bare bottom. His cries slowed to soft whimpers and when he felt her hand on his shoulder, he turned to look up at her with teary, reddened eyes. No words were said, not even a sound, but volumes passed between them. As if sharing his thoughts, she removed her touch from his prone body and opened her arms to take him to her bosom.

Unashamed, he came to her, his tears coming more rapidly now, leaving a dampness on her neck. She shushed him and held him tightly, reassuring him with her body and the wordless sounds that came from her lips.

Her nipples, awakened by the feminine instincts loosed that evening, were hardened. One poked him playfully on his tear-stained cheek. It brushed against his face, smearing a trail of moisture across his skin before he turned to it and, with his eyes closed, his lips closed on it. He suckled softly, finding solace in Megan's nipple and finally coming to terms with what took place that night. She had reached a part of him he fought to keep hidden and addressed it as only a loving woman could. She guided him through the fire, tested him and spoke to the boy inside. He sucked happily, these thoughts circling around his flustered mind.

She held his naked body against her and slowly rocked. As she petted his hair she noticed his erection, still full and now throbbing with each suck of her nipple. Tenderly she reached down to him and began to soothe him with her hand cupping his balls. He sighed happily at this and she found she could hold her entire hand around both of them. As he sucked she squeezed in time with him. He was very warm there and she enjoyed the feeling, the love she conveyed through her hands to him. He had become very vulnerable, even babyish, with her and she warmed to the change.

She began to stroke gently up his shaft, the tips of her fingers gliding along the taut skin of his penis. He hummed happily, uncaring of how she stimulated him. She wanted to giggle at how quickly their roles had changed. Reaching his thick cockhead, she gripped it carefully and moved her wrist so her palm brushed against the flared nerve endings on the rim of his cock. Her hand moved back down his shaft just as slowly, his lips never faltering on the raised nub of her nipple. As she stroked along his length, the tips of her fingers and her thumb pressed into the sides of the shaft, encouraging his lust. It dwelled within him, hidden by the soft, needing feelings she had pulled from him. Because of the drastic change he had faced, his sex drive was hidden beneath the layers she had uncovered. Now, just as she had with his inner boy, she brought it out of him, slowly drawing it out even as his body resisted.

His body was responding to her ministrations slowly and he found himself panting on her nipple as the soft pad of her thumb skated over the moistened hole on the tip of his cock. "There, there now boy," she cooed to him. "Let mommy love you."

Despite his earlier shock at her words, he found himself comforted by them. As she said she would, she had taken her role, spanking him to tears and loving him as no one else ever had. He felt weak in her arms, crying just a bit more from the thought of it.

She kissed him on the temple, her full lips pressing against his heated brow, and continued her gentle hand movements. As she squeezed him slightly, her thumb rested above his balls, at the bottom of his shaft. Tenderly, she dragged it up his length, causing him to shiver with pleasure. As she pulled on him, she pressed his face tighter to her bosom, encouraging him to suck and take comfort in her breast, as a little boy should.

"Good boy! You're doing so well, honey," she whispered to him.

A smile formed around the edges of his lips and he was truly pleased she was so happy with him. She stroked, her lips kissing his skin and warming his heart. His sensitivity was peaking and she felt his cock press into her palm with the impatient throbbing of an inevitable orgasm. Slowly her hand glided over him. She circled her forefinger and thumb to tease the sensitive, pearl- smooth skin just below his head.

He cried out from this and whined as the pleasure in his body forced him from her nipple. She cradled him in her arms as his climax overcame him and caused his body to twist and squirm uncontrollably. Juices shot from the tip of his cock, splashing against her breast and collecting there. She held him, one arm tightly wrapped around his neck, her other hand squeezing his inflamed penis, urging more pleasure from his organ.

The sensations wracked his tired, sore body and he moaned, crying out. "Please, mommy! I love you!"

The words shocked her and, as his orgasm subsided and he rested peacefully against her chest, she considered them. She knew at such times men can only tell the truth and the point of orgasm is the most truthful time for any male. What he said shocked yet flattered her. He had never given her a look into this side of his personality before and was very pleased he felt close enough to her to express it. It was the most intimate thing they had ever shared.

She eased his weakened body off her and floated off to the bathroom, as if on a cloud of air. Reaching the bathroom mirror she examined herself. She gloried in what she felt now. She'd never felt more like a woman that she did that evening. She felt vibrant, all her maternal and feminine instincts alive. She looked over her shoulder to the naked man, now reduced to a shaken and still weeping boy, that lay comfortably across her bedspread, and flushed.

Wiping the remains of his climax off her chest, she saw a change in herself in the mirror. Her breasts seemed fuller; her nipples were thickened from ardor, yet still they called out for her boy to come and suckle. She skimmed her bottoms down her legs and looked herself over. Her pussy was recently shaven, smooth with a small patch of naturally curly black hair over her slit. Her sex dripped anxiously and her clit poked out from its hood, hoping for attention. With a skip, she turned to the bedroom, prancing proudly to the bed.

She climbed atop her man, hugging him close and luxuriating in the feel of his warmed, bare skin against her sopping sex. She rubbed against him slowly, glorying in what they shared that evening. Doors had opened between them and she knew they would be better for it. They had both shared something neither of them had recognized and could only help their relationship to blossom.

Her lips pressed to his neck and he yielded to her, baring his flesh for her to taste. He was reacting now, as she had hoped, as a man should for a woman. His erection was eager against her and, not able to hold back any longer, she slowly eased it into her.

He exhaled loudly, thankful for the attention and pulled her to his chest. Sweat gathered between them and silently in the darkness she rode him as a lover. They shared several deep, satisfying climaxes before they fell asleep in each other's embrace.