The Armoire

- Expertly edited by FQKF

A few eyes turned my way when I came in the café and I couldn't help but smile as a couple of husbands got scolded by jealous partners. Just like any woman I've ever met, I am always flattered by the attention and I still blush when it is obvious that I am being "visually" undressed by strangers but, I've never received the interest that she is now getting as she breezes through the restaurant toward my table.

The room gets noticeably quiet as she walks in, waves to me, and approaches. She is wearing a plain, white, embroidered sheer blouse over a knit tank and a simple dot print cotton skirt that elegantly sways with her hips. Her feet are almost bare, save for tiny sandals with microscopic straps. It is clearly evident that all the men, and many women, in this room, are combating the urge to ravage her, here and now.

Alyssa Eaglefeather, traffic stopping gorgeous, full blooded Anishinaabe, and undisputed life partner of Sam Darquesied. It is difficult to avoid jealousy but the moment she smiles, and flashes those incredible, green eyes, you are just glad to know her.

She gives me a kiss on the cheek, sits and clasps my hands, and we spend the next few minutes small-talking our way through lunch, then I said, "Ally, you promised me the whole story when time permitted, so... lay it on me, baby!"

"It's a long story, Sylvia," she says, "but if you're up for it then why don't we get a couple of coffees and go to the park and get comfortable."

After finding a nice shady spot she begins, "Well...we met at a computer seminar; I was still working as a coder then and he was there for the company that bought his business. They paid him a humungous pile of money and part of the deal was that he stayed on for a year to ease the transition. According to him, some no-nothing CEO insisted that he attend. His real name is Thomas Dareson and he was a pretty well known troubleshooter so I already knew who he was from magazine articles and such.

"Anyway... there was this contest where partnered seminar attendees could submit a little piece of number crunching code and the best one would win the partners a dinner for two. The partner selection was pretty dismal and I never even considered asking someone at his level. So, I wasn't going to bother, but then... he asked me! We ended up using my laptop in my suite and it only took us about forty five minutes to write the routine. We submitted it just in time then agreed to get together at the seven o'clock session..."

* * *

Just before seven, I entered the conference room and saw Tom way on the other side of the hall talking with the organizer and sponsor of the seminar. Tom must have been watching for me because he immediately caught my attention and waved me over.

Tom introduced us, "Rick this is Alyssa Eaglefeather. Alyssa this is Richard Singleton."

Richard said, "Very pleased to meet you. Wow Thomas, you definitely know how to pick 'em!"

I blushed and Tom said, "No, no. We're just friends."

We all sat together near the back then, after a few minutes, Richard said he had to go to the stage. While the first speaker was up Tom kept pretending to doze off and I playfully nudged him awake. We were both giggling enough to receive some admonishing glares from surrounding seats. We applauded politely as the speaker left the stage then Richard moved to the microphone and said, "Okay... the winner of the dinner is... team twenty-seven... team number twenty-seven."

We just sat there for a few seconds and waited for the winners to respond. Then Tom looked at his receipt and said, "Oh...that's us!"

We went up to the stage and received the prize from Richard. Then, as we started to go back to our seats he waved us over to a side entrance, "Listen Thomas, we both know that these sessions are a complete waste of time for you."

Tom answered, "Thanks Rick, but I have to sign the log at each session so..."

Richard interrupted, "I've signed you in for all the remaining sessions, Alyssa too so... go and enjoy the rest of the weekend."

We looked at each other for a moment then heartily thanked Richard, and—like two naughty children—scurried out the door.

Tom asked if I had eaten yet and, since I hadn't, we agreed that it was as good a time as any so we headed for the dining room.

I said, "I think your friend is trying to set us up!"

Tom answered, "Aw... Richard's a good guy. I've known him for years and, ever since my divorce, everybody's been trying to set me up."

"How long were you married?"

As the maitre de led us to a table Tom said, "Twenty-six years."

As we are seated and given menus I said, "Twenty-six years? That's a long time before a divorce."

Tom explained, "It's a long story but the 'Readers Digest' version is... a couple of years ago I decided to devote more time to my business. I was doing okay but I had a couple of ideas... anyway, I ended up putting in about fifteen hours a day, needless to say, essentially ignoring Maryellen... my wife. One thing led to another and she met this guy Gary, a dentist, and they had a lot in common, especially gardening, and the next thing I know, she's suggesting we split... it was a little over a year ago."

I ask, "Was it ugly?"

"No... not at all. Gary is quite well to do so I got the house. It was completely amicable; we both still love each other, we're just not IN love anymore... you know?"

I said, "We must have been signing our divorce papers just about the same time."

"Oh? How long were you married?"

I answered, "Almost one year."

Tom, a little surprised, asked, "Only a year? What happened?"

"He started beating me up."

Tom, genuinely concerned said, "Oh geez, Alyssa... I'm so sorry!"

"It's okay... it wasn't your fault."

He continued, "Yeah, I know but...speaking as a man, I would like to apologize on behalf of my entire gender. We can be remarkably stupid sometimes."

I laughed at his assessment then he asked, "So...what about now? You seeing somebody?"

"Not really, I got out of a fairly long relationship about four months ago."

He said, "Well, I hope that one was a little less violent."

I looked down and didn't answer. Then Tom said, "Don't tell me...did he hit you too?" I nodded that he did.

"I'm sorry Alyssa...you know; I knew this couple...real nice folks, but he got arrested for hitting his wife and everybody was stunned. I did some research online and discovered that this kind of thing happens way too often."

After the waiter took our food and drink order he Tom asked, "Was it an on going thing or sudden?"

"It was sudden. We had been dating for about four months and—long story short--I asked him to... do something. It didn't go well and he punched me."

"Do you mind if I ask what it was you wanted him to do?"

I was hesitant to answer and he said, "Oh, I'm sorry... I'm prying too much..."

I wasn't sure why but I was comfortable with Tom so I said, "No, it's okay... I wanted him to... spank me."

I watched his response but, there was no hint of judgment or distaste; his reaction was as if I had said "I wanted him to dance."

Tom asked, "What happened?"

"Well, we talked about it...you know...that I wanted to try it and...Bruce seemed okay with it so, one day, when he pulled in the driveway, I stripped and bent over the table. He was surprised when he came in but then he kind of knew... so he smacked my bum a couple of times but then, all of a sudden, he became this different guy. He pulled his pants down and tried to...you know...do me in my...rear end. I didn't want that at all, so I rolled away but then he got real mad. He said if all I wanted was for him to hurt me...then he punched me in the face."

Tom winced when I said "punched" and asked, "Did he keep hitting?"

"No...I screamed as loud as I could and a neighbour came in right away. The police arrested Bruce and... well...that was that."

Tom said, "Again, Alyssa, I'm real sorry. You have to know that none of that was your fault in any way."

I told him I knew that now, and then I asked him, "What would you have done if you were there?"

"I'd have killed the weasel...four times!"

I laughed and said, "No...I mean if you were him?"

He replied, "Oh...you mean if we were dating and I found you in the kitchen? Well, let's see, I'm dating this drop dead gorgeous girl and I find her naked and asking me to spank her...hmmmm...you know...I could live with that!"

We both laughed and he continued, "You know... I couldn't help but notice a bookmark on your web browser...it was to a bondage story archive..."

I interrupted, "And just how did you know what it was?"

"Well...I've been there many times myself. It's a bit of a fantasy of mine too...not the spanking per se, but bondage and stuff...but I find most of the stories portray the guy as a selfish pervert who treats the woman like dirt. You know...forcing her to do his buddies and stuff..."

I agreed and asked, "And you don't like that?"

"No...I think many of these writers miss the point. A woman might like to be tied naked and whipped but, for it to work, I mean, really work, she has to do that with a guy she can trust completely. And, conversely, the guy has to be worthy of that trust. He has to care for her deeply and only have her in mind, not himself, when he does things to her. Sure the guy's going to be horny and want to have sex but, that'll come and, you know what they say, it's not so much the destination as it is the journey...I don't think I'm explaining it very well."

I responded, "On the contrary, I think you're doing very well!"

We talked for a long time after that. Then we left the hotel and went for a long walk. After a half hour or so, I found I was...falling for him a bit. He held my hand as we ran across a street and we continued to hold hands all the way back. Before we went inside I put my arms around him and told that I had a really nice night and then we kissed.

It was soft and deep and long. He caressed my mouth and tongue with his...it was SO nice! I thought to myself that maybe, just maybe, this is the guy I've been waiting for. The twenty year age difference didn't matter even a little bit. When the kiss ended he smiled and said, "If you're ever looking for a spanking buddy, give me a call." Blushing again, I smiled back and then we went through the revolving door.

As I stepped into the lobby I suddenly stopped, turned and said, "What about tonight?"

I couldn't believe I said that out loud! I put my hand to my mouth; I was SO embarrassed! But I knew he was a gentleman and would say something clever to get me out of this.

"Uh...well, okay...if you're sure."

I didn't expect that! I had obviously taken him by surprise but he answered like it was a perfectly natural request. I should have said something like I was kidding. But then I remembered something my dad used to say, "Only risk takers have a chance to win." So, I said, "I can come to your room in a half hour or so...if that's okay."

Again, in a non-judgmental tone he answered, "That'll be fine...oh, can you do me a little favour? If you have them, could you change into a skirt and blouse?"

I was a little puzzled but I did have them so I agreed and we went to our rooms.

* * *

I was excited but very anxious as I stood in front of his door. I always carried a riding crop in my suitcase and I had put in a bag and brought it with me. I used it on myself when I fantasized alone at night but now I wasn't sure how I would explain its presence. After a full minute I finally built up the nerve to knock. He answered and invited me in.

I was so nervous; I didn't know what to say or do so I just handed him the bag, "Here! I...had this...maybe you want to use it...I'm sorry, I'm really nervous."

He took the crop out of the bag and, without questioning why I had it, simply said, "Cool!"

Then I asked, "Should I...uh...just undress and...uh...bend over..."

Abruptly he said, "No. Actually I think we should talk first and get things straight."

He offered me a chair then continued, "First off, I thought it might be more interesting if we had a scenario or something. I thought it might be more fun than just diving into the spanking thing."

"Scenario? What do you mean?"

Tom said, "You know...like...maybe you're a secretary and I'm your boss and I call you on the carpet because of some mistake...something like that."

It did sound more interesting so I asked, "Okay...what would we do exactly?"

He replied, "We can just play that by ear and see how it goes... which brings me to another point. Uh...aside from the kiss, we have never been intimate but, eventually, you're going to be naked and I'm going to be using this crop so I need you to tell me what's okay and what isn't."

I didn't really know what to tell him. "Oh...I've never had anybody do this for me so I'm not sure. But maybe, if it's okay, don't...touch me between my legs...with your hand...for now..."

"That's okay...um...we should have an out word though. That way you can stop it if I do something you don't like."

I said, "Couldn't I just say stop?"

"Oh yes, but I thought, if you get into the scenario, you might say things like "Stop...please stop"...you know...pretending it was real. So we might want to use a word that in no way would fit."

"Like what?"

Tom looked around then picked up a city brochure from the desk, "What about this?"

"Philadelphia?"

He smiled and said, "Well, I can't imagine you would use it in the scenario like "Oh stop...please don't Philadelphia me!"

I laughed and agreed then asked, "What should we do now?"

Tom said, "You be Miss Jones and go stand by the door and I'll be Mr. Smith and I'll call you in...like it's my office. And then we'll just wing it."

My anxiety had pretty much been replaced by my excitement and, as I stood and waited by the door, I felt my vagina begin to moisten.

"Miss Jones? Come in here please."

I went over and stood right in front of him and he whispered that I should back up a bit—like there's a desk between us.

"Miss Jones, It has come to my attention that your dictation skills have shown very little improvement over the past few weeks."

As "Miss Jones" I answered, "I'm...uh sorry....uh...I'll do better?"

A very stern "Mr. Smith" said, "Constantly being sorry is not acceptable in this office, Miss Jones and I have lost all my patience. I'm going to have to let you go."

I began to get it and Tom was right, it was kind of fun, "Oh please, Mr. Smith, I really need this job. I promise I'll do better."

He smiled and winked then snapped back to stern, "It's too late for more promises, Miss Jones. You've promised before but your efforts have always been mediocre at best. I've made my decision."

Begging, I responded, "Please, Mr. Smith, is there anything I can do to make it up to you? Anything at all?"

He paused then said, "We'll, there would have to be punishment and you would have to prove that you are sincere and will always do your very best to obey me without question."

Eagerly I responded, "Oh thank you Mr. Smith! I will take my punishment and I will do my very best."

Flatly, Mr. Smith said, "Very well...please remove your blouse."

Just his words doubled my excitement and my arousal but, pretending to be shocked, I said, "Uh...excuse me?"

Tom abruptly rose and stood right beside me, "Miss Jones! You see, this has always been the problem hasn't it? In one breath you promise to do your best to obey but in the next you immediately question me. Now...let's try again shall we? Miss Jones...PLEASE remove your blouse!"

"Yyyyes...Mr. Ssssmith." As I began to undo the buttons I was SO turned on. I thought to myself, "Please let Tom be the man I hope he is. Please don't let this go bad." I slid the blouse off my shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

Tom then said, "Now Miss Jones, please remove your brassiere."

Meekly I complied, "Yyyyes...Mr. Ssssmith."

I unhooked the clasp and slid the straps over my arms then let the bra fall. Tom whispered "Wow!" and we both began to giggle.

We quickly composed ourselves the Tom gave me a tap on my breast with the crop. "Was that too hard?'

I told him it wasn't and he could go harder so he tried a few, progressively stronger strikes to my boobs until I winced and said, "Ow ow ow... that's about it Tom. I think that's as hard as you should go."

For the rest of the evening he never hit harder that that last one. I was getting pretty sure that he was the guy.

Tom then said, "Please remove your skirt now, Miss Jones."

In character I said, "Mr. Smith, I'm not sure I want to...OW...OW...I'M SORRY...MR. SMITH... I'M SORRY!"

He had given me a slap across my nipple with the crop—not too hard but I had never been hit there before and it stung. I obeyed and unzipped the skirt and let it fall.

An obviously impressed Tom; said "Jesus!" and I began to giggle again.

He waited a bit while I composed myself then said, "Now your panties, Miss Jones."

I was really beginning to enjoy the "scenario" and I was really beginning to like him so, to give him a bit of a show, I turned, grasped the waist of the panties and slowly bent down sliding the panties to the floor as I went. When I stood back up Tom said, "And now Miss Jones...I think I need a very, very...cold shower!"

We both burst out laughing and it took over a minute for us to settle down. I had to marvel at my lack of embarrassment as I stood stark naked in front of this man. I was very aroused and I liked—really liked—the way he looked at me. I was pleased that he liked what he saw.

Recomposed, Tom said, "Now, Miss Jones please place your hands behind your back and spread your feet as far as you can."

As I did what he asked he walked around behind me then... "Ow...OW!" He smacked me twice on the butt with the crop.

With every "Miss Jones" I get a smack. "You are disappointing me again, Miss Jones!" SMACK! "I asked you to spread as far as you could, Miss Jones" SMACK! "But you are NOT spread as far as you can, are you Miss Jones?" SMACK!

"OW...OW...No, Mr. Smith...OW...I can do better...OW!" I spread as far as I could without toppling over then he moved to stand in front of me and began to stroke my breast with the crop. My arousal began to build again and I was pretty sure I could feel my pussy dripping.

"That's more like it, Miss Jones but your lack of effort merits some whipping doesn't it?"

His caressing with the crop was adding fuel to my fire and I began to pant a bit, "Yes...Mister....Smith."

Tom continued, "Miss Jones, I am going to whip you on your buttocks and your breasts. How many strokes of the crop should I use, Miss Jones?"

His use of the word "buttocks" made me giggle again, but I recovered quickly and said, "Ten Mr. Smith... OW...OWWW!" He smacked me once on each nipple.

"Be more specific, Miss Jones!" he insisted.

Panting a little harder I answered, "Ten on my bum, Mr. Smith and ten on my breasts."

Tom said, "Very well, Miss Jones...and you must count out each one."

Immediately he started on my butt. "Ow...one...OW...two...OWWW...three..." Then he moved in front to attack my boobs but...

"Well... what do we have here?" He pulled the end of the crop across my labia and over my clitoris. The touch shot my arousal up almost, but not quite, through the roof. Then he showed me the crop—it was soaking wet!

He leaned close and whispered, "Is it okay if I touch you there with the crop?"

I answered, "Yes...that's okay...you can touch me, if you like...with your hands. You can touch me anywhere you want...it was a stupid rule."

He smiled and moved back. "Does standing naked before me get you sexually excited, Miss Jones?"

I looked into his eyes and said, "Oh YES...very much, sir!" I wanted him to know my answer was for real so I didn't use "Mr. Smith."