Keith's knuckles on his right hand, which was balled into a fist, slowly tapped against the maroon door of Morgan's house. As he stood waiting for a response his stomach began to churn with butterflies. He couldn't believe he was actually standing outside her house given the reason he had called her that morning.
Morgan and Keith were good friends, and had been ever since they started working together as executive assistants at the same company seven years ago. While they had never been romantically involved, they were intimate friends who knew they could tell each other anything, without fear of being ridiculed or gossiped about behind their back.
Through the rain glass that filled the inner portions of the maroon front door Keith could see Morgan approaching. A few seconds later the front door was opened, and Morgan stood in front of Keith. She was wearing a small bikini with a black top and pink bottoms. It was the outfit he had asked her to wear during their phone call that morning.
The promise made during that conversation did not end at what she would be wearing. The second part of the promise replayed in his mind as Morgan stood in the frame of the door.
"So...you actually showed up," she said while folding her arms. "I had my doubts considering the reason you said you wanted to come over." Her voice was firm in its resolve, a clear indication that she was ready to fulfill the additional promise.
That additional promise was born out of Keith's desire to finally tell her about a secret fantasy he had been harboring for many years. During their call he had confessed that fantasy to her, and asked if she would turn it into reality. Morgan, ever the good and understanding friend, promised that if he actually showed up then his fantasy would be turned into reality, and that reality would be just like the fantasy.
"Yes," Keith replied through a voice that sounded like he had something caught in his throat. "Although I am second guessing myself right now." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, the anticipation of what was to come inside her house making him excited and nervous all at once.
Looking at Keith's clothing she could see a bulge coming from the right pocket of his golf-style shorts. She thought to herself that Keith always dressed with a certain "niceness." He had paired his dark gray shorts with a light blue polo and white sneakers.
"Did you bring the wooden bathbrush with you?" she asked, her demeanor exhibiting a nonchalant attitude.
Reaching into his right pocket Keith slowly pulled out a dark brown wooden bathbrush that must have been a quarter inch thick.
With her right hand Morgan took the brush from Keith. Her eyes fixated on the smooth wood side as she rubbed it in her palm before pulling it back and bringing it down very hard into her palm not once, not twice, but three times.
With each successive smack into her palm the butterflies in Keith's stomach raised further.
Morgan's gaze met his. "This will be very painful, Keith," she warned, holding up the wooden bathbrush. "I can see why you are having second thoughts. Are you absolutely sure you want to go through with this?"
Keith swallowed hard, his eyes flickering between the brush and Morgan. "Yes," he finally choked out. "I want the fantasy turned into reality."
Morgan's expression shifted into an evil grin. "Alright," she said, stepping aside to create a path for him to walk inside. "But remember, once you come inside, there will be no turning back or saying you changed your mind."
Keith took a deep breath. He stood still on the porch, staring at the open doorway. The thought of the fiery pain he had been craving for so long overwhelmed him. He glanced over his shoulder at the street, contemplating turning and running back to his car, parked along the curb in front of Morgan's two-story home. A cool breeze blew through the trees that cast a long shadow over her porch.
With a sudden lurch Morgan took hold of Keith's left arm. "Too much stalling," she scolded, her voice carrying the authority he had hoped for. "You came here to get what you asked for. Twenty minutes of pure, raw discipline with this brush."
Keith felt his arm being tugged, and his body followed almost involuntarily into her home. "You drove over here," she continued, "so that I could fulfill your fantasy of having your bare bottom blistered and set on fire with a spanking given as hard as possible with no holding back."
Her words sent his mind racing, but he found himself nodding in agreement. As the door swung shut behind him, the realization overcame him. There was no turning back now.
Morgan led Keith to the couch in the family room. "We're not wasting any time getting down to business," she announced, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Keith's eyes watered slightly as she sat down. "You're about to be very sorry for asking me to turn your fantasy into reality," she strictly confided. "If you truly believe that having your bare bottom spanked with this brush as hard as possible will be fun, then you are in for a very painful awakening."
The humor in her voice from their phone conversation that morning had disappeared, replaced by a sternness that filled Keith with a level of regret. He had told her about his fantasy and how he thought it would a lot of fun to do it for real. Morgan had found his revelation amusing at first, but her willingness to help her friend led them to this moment.
Morgan looked up at Keith, her eyes flashing with grit. "Alright, Keith," she said, her voice unyielding. "It's time to bare your bottom for your spanking."
Keith had been dreaming of this moment for too long for to remember, but now that it was here, he found it difficult to process that it was really happening. The room felt hot, his palms were sweaty, and his heart was racing.
He stared blankly down at Morgan. She was slowly tapping it against her thighs. He reached down and removed his shoes, followed by his black ankle-high socks. Gulping solemnly, Keith folded the socks and placed them in one of the shoes and stood straight back up.
His eyes would not leave the brush. Tap...Tap...Tap...he could hear and see the slow motion of the brush. Keith put both hands along the bottom of his polo and slowly pulled it over his head. Folding it in a half-hazard fashion, he placed it on top of his shoes. Several deep, and overcoming, breaths later, Keith put his hands on the button of his shorts and twisted the plastic disk through the opening. Moving his right hand down he took hold of the zipper. The sound of the metal teeth releasing broke the silence that had overtaken the room. More deep breaths followed as Keith held the top of his shorts and lethargically lowered them to his ankles.
Morgan's eyes followed the shorts going to the floor as the fabric pooled around his ankles. She couldn't help but notice that Keith had no underwear on. He was bare bottom. "I see you were already prepping to be bare bottom, weren't you?" she said with a knowing smirk.
Keith's face burned with embarrassment, but it was too late to do anything about it now. He stepped out of his shorts, leaving them where they lay, and took one step towards Morgan.
Morgan's grin grew wicked. "Alright, come here," she said, motioning towards him with the wooden bathbrush. "It's time for you to learn the difference between a fun fantasy and a real spanking."
Keith dragged his feet. His eyes remained on the brush as he thought of the fantasy he had told her. This was it, he told himself. It would only be a matter of seconds before Morgan had him over her knee.
Morgan's laugh was like a siren's call. "You have no idea how much fun this spanking is going to be," she said with a sly grin. "But the fun, Keith...will only be for me." Keith felt the blood rush to his face. He had never been so nervous.
Taking hold of his wrist, she firmly pulled him closer. "Now, are you ready for the spanking you have been fantasizing about?" she snarkily asked.
Standing there frozen Keith began to shiver as she repeated her question, "I asked...are you ready for your spanking?"
