Thrill

With shaking fingers she dialled the number. The phone at the other end was lifted but nothing was said.

'Hello Lisa?'

'Yes, I'm Lisa.'

'I -- I'd like to pay you a visit.'

'Look,' said the wary voice, 'if your man's been to see me, that's something...'

'No, no! It's nothing like that. I just want to come to you as a man would. For, for the same kind of thing. I saw your advert on a website.'

'Oh! Oh, I see!' The voice sounded faintly amused now. 'You know you have to pay, don't you?'

'How much?'

'I usually charge the men sixty pounds,' said the unseen Lisa. 'I don't know, perhaps you should get a special rate.'

'Sixty will be all right, now, how do I get to you?'

Half an hour later, having followed precise directions, Marie sat in her car pondering about how far she had come since that fateful day in December last year. It happened at the office party when bending down to retrieve her napkin; she felt a whack across her skirt. Marie shot up to confront her attacker to find her friend Alison standing holding a bread board and a silly grin on her face. It was her present from the secret Santa draw earlier. Sometime later Marie, after another glass of wine felt the warmth not only in her bottom but between her legs. It continued despite the efforts to forget about it, the furtive look on websites, the playful spanks she gave herself. The thought of her husband finding out scared her, he was a fantastic husband in many ways but very straight laced. He would think her a pervert or something, he had voiced his opinion on these matters before.

She felt very nervous, suppose the woman tried to blackmail her afterwards or perhaps Lisa had a male protector who might rape and rob her! Marie told herself firmly that she was being stupid and on shaky legs walked to towards the old Victorian house. She rang the doorbell.

Lisa had not been one of those who included a photograph in her advertisement. When the door opened, Marie saw a pleasant-faced, thirty something woman wearing black-rimmed glasses. Her blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail. She wore a dark green woollen top and a black skirt. She looked, thought Marie, more like a respectable librarian, than a tart.

'Come in!' said Lisa, smiling.

Marie caught a glimpse of a neat, clean hall with flower pictures on the wall. Marie followed the instructions and found herself in a conventionally furnished room. The curtains provided privacy but admitted adequate light.

'Well,' said Lisa. 'This makes a nice change from podgy middle-aged men playing at naughty boys. Do you want to tell me your name, dear?'

'I'm Marie.' She laughed, shakily. 'I -- I suppose I'm playing at being a naughty girl. Do women come to you?'

'Sometimes,' said Lisa, 'a man and a woman come together, and I punish the woman while the man watches. I always talk to the woman first, though, and make sure she's here of her own free will and knows what to expect. You're the first one who's come on her own. I should tell you, I usually ask for the money in advance.'

'Oh yes, of course.' Marie handed over the notes.

'Thanks, Marie. Now, what did you have in mind? Shall I just go through the motions to give you a thrill without really hurting you? Or shall it be the real thing? I can be quite strict, if that's what you want.'

Marie licked her lips. Now that the moment of decision had been reached she found herself hesitating, but the idea of backing down now was unthinkable.

'The real thing, please, Lisa. I should warn you, I've never been punished before.'

'Well we'd better make it memorable for you then!' said Lisa, cheerfully. 'Hadn't we better agree on a code word, though?'

'I don't understand,' said Marie.

'When I began in this business,' explained Lisa, 'I used to stop whacking a man as soon as he asked me to. They used to be furious, say I shouldn't have taken any notice. Then once or twice I half-killed some poor sod who really did want me to stop! So, now I get them to agree on a special word to use when it's definitely getting too much, instead of 'Please' or 'Stop' or 'Don't!' One of my regulars always says 'Batman!' when he's had enough.'

Marie laughed nervously. 'That sounds like a good idea. But I think I'd rather leave it to you.'

'As you like,' said Lisa, serenely. 'Now, one more thing.'

She opened a large oak cupboard and Marie gulped at the sight of the canes, straps and whips within.

'As you can see, I've a fine assortment of equipment and it's liable to leave some spectacular marks. Could that be a problem for you?'

'There mustn't be any marks.'

Lisa nodded. 'I'll bear that in mind. Well, are you ready?'

'Yes, Lisa.'

'You will call me Miss!'

There was no trace of good-nature in the tone now.

'I'm sorry, Miss.'

'You will be! Now remove your jacket and trousers'

Marie removed her expensive black jacket and matching trousers. Timid and hesitant, she glanced at Lisa. Feeling naked and shamefaced, Marie watched as Lisa moved to the table and picked up a short leather paddle before sitting on the sofa.

'This comes a little later, Marie, after a good hand-spanking.'

'Please I don't want the leather thing!'

'Don't answer back! And I told you to call me Miss. You are making me very cross indeed, Marie. Come here!'

A few moments later Marie was face down across the older woman's lap. Her position was humiliating, she had expected to bend over and be spanked. Lisa, she realised, was an expert in making her clients feel guilty, in convincing them they deserved correction. Marie remembered the intimidating contents of the wardrobe and she squirmed unhappily. She let out a little squeal as she suddenly felt her panties pulled down, trying to reach up to stop it she squirmed even more.

'I'll give you something to wriggle for, young lady!' said Lisa, with obvious enjoyment.

She suddenly realised that she was about to get her first spanking. She was confused and despite her best efforts to put it out of her mind she was now here in this position seconds away from getting a sore bottom.

Marie felt a hard, stinging slap on one cheek of her defenceless bottom, then, a moment later, on the other.

'It's quite a long time since I had a naughty girl to deal with and I'm going to make an extra special effort for you.'

Then the stinging hand descended again and again, settling into a steady, methodical spanking rhythm with extremely painful results for Marie's quivering buttocks. The fact that she had paid to receive such treatment seemed to make it all the harder to bear. As Lisa spanked, she scolded, reprimanded, reproved, not for any specific faults but for Marie's alleged bad character and shameless behaviour. Marie found that she was crying, not just with the pain of her smacked bottom but because of the injustice of being so unfairly lectured. When Lisa realised that Marie was weeping she began to tease her cruelly.

'Oh, poor Marie, have you got a sore botty, then? You shouldn't be such a naughty girl, should you? You needn't think I'm going to let you off because you're a cry-baby!'

There was a momentary pause, then Marie yelled with shock as yet again she felt the hand on the smarting flesh of her tender bottom. Lisa's hand inflicted a scorching pain which had her howling and wriggling across Lisa's lap in utter indignity, pleading and imploring.

'Your poor bottom does look sore, Marie,' mocked Lisa. 'Shall I smack your legs instead?'

'No, don't!' sobbed Marie. 'That's enough! Please Lisa, that's enough!'

'You know I can't take any notice of that,' said Lisa, sternly. 'It's your own fault, you should have agreed on a code word. And you're forgetting to call me Miss, aren't you? Right my girl, its red-hot smacked legs for you!'

With resounding whacks Lisa methodically worked her way down Marie's right thigh from bottom-curve almost to the knee and back again, then punished Marie's left thigh in the same way, ignoring Marie's frantic entreaties. For the rest of the spanking she alternated between Marie's roasting bottom and her scorching, scarlet thighs.

'All right, Marie,' she said at last. 'You can get up now -- but don't think I've finished with you.'

Weeping bitterly, Marie scrambled to her feet, clasping her tormented buttocks. She could hardly believe that this relentless disciplinarian was the pleasant lady who had greeted her. Lisa left the room, as she wiped her eyes and dressed.

The journey home was just a blur, her bottom tingly, as she sat in the car for the thirty minute ride home.

Marie tried so hard to forget about what had happened, in fact she was shocked that the redness, especially on her thighs, was still slightly visible the next morning. It had been a worrying evening keeping her secret from her devoted husband. Good job he was tired and went straight to sleep.

Some days she would think about another visit to Lisa, even picking up her phone to dial, but she put it down again. Admonishing herself for being weak. Then, out of the blue really, her husband Terry announced that he was going on a business trip for five days to the Far East. The first thought, not that she was going to miss him, but could she possibly arrange another appointment with Lisa. She got an immediate tingle, an itch that she needed to scratch and quickly, but she would have to wait two more days.

Marie somehow managed to control herself, mind Terry was busy with organising things, so she was left alone with her thoughts and the internet. Wednesday finally came and so five hours after she had dropped Terry at the airport Marie found herself outside the door of number twenty seven, waiting for Lisa with nervous anticipation.

Once again in the room she handed over her money, and then Lisa began.

'How dare you turn up here wearing trousers yet again, I told you what would happen! Now get them off and also your knickers, if you're wearing any!'

Marie took them off and put them on the table by the window.

'I've got a brand new paddle here,' said Lisa, turning to the dreaded cupboard. 'You shall have the full benefit of its first use.'

'Please, Miss,' whimpered Marie, Do I have to be paddled?'

She watched as the slim blonde women dressed all in black opened the cupboard and removed the paddle. Marie was shocked at how big the wooden paddle looked, it must have been eighteen inches long and four inches wide.

'When I say something you will not answer me back' said Lisa.

'Yes, Miss.'

'I'd make you touch your toes but I doubt if you could stay down. You'd better lie over the end of the sofa'

Marie miserably obeyed.

'How -- how many am I going to get, Miss?'

'Sometimes I let my naughty boys off with six,' said Lisa. 'But you're such a bad girl I think you'd better have twelve.'

'Oh, but Miss...'

'And three more for arguing! Now, will you have them all on your bottom or shall I give you some on your legs?'

'All on my bottom please, Miss,' said Marie, squirming unhappily. She was aware of Lisa moving round to her side and then she felt the paddle drawn lightly across her bottom.

'Don't you wish you'd been a good girl, Marie?' teased Lisa.

'I'll do better, Miss!' said Marie, desperately. 'I'll try so hard, I promise I will -- Aaaaaah!'

She writhed, gasping, as the searing heat rose upon her shapely rear.

'Good intentions are not enough, Marie,' said Lisa, severely.

The paddle descended again, and again, the carefully aimed strokes dealing out their blazing admonishment in slow, deliberate sequence. The weeping, writhing woman, the flushed, bright-eyed woman wielding the paddle, performed the age-old ceremony of stern retribution and agonised repentance. And then, at last, it ended.

When her sobbing had died down a little, Marie became aware that Lisa was caressing her bottom with her finger tips. Raising a tear-stained face she blurted,

'Lisa, I'm not gay!'

'I didn't say you were,' was the soft answer. 'But when you dreamt about being punished, didn't you think about anyone comforting you afterwards?'

'Oh, yes, Lisa!"