" after another. Each smack was followed immediately by a cry of anguish and a plea for mercy. "Please, please, I can't, I can't, OUCH, please stop, OW, I can't....."
Smack
,
smack
......on and on......the
smacks
louder and louder, the cries and shrieks fainter and fainter as Jean's reserves of strength waned. Soon she was just moaning and crying rather than screaming. Suddenly, Marian changed angles, bringing the ruler upwards directly across the broadly spread cunt, eliciting a new, different cry of agony. Three more quick whacks hit the cunt lips, bringing a final collapse and surrender from Jean. "God, stop it! I'll do it! Anything. Please quit." The submission was faint and gasping, but clear -- complete capitulation. Ironically, if she had held out one or two more blows, she might have won, for Marian, not a sadist, just didn't want to hurt her any more. Still, she took advantage of her victory.
"Look at me, Jean!" As Jean, with difficulty raised up and looked around, she saw that Marian's robe had come open during the spanking and both breasts were completely exposed. Marian stepped forward until her right breast was directly in front of Jean's face and commanded, "Kiss my nipple!" Completely under her control now, Jean leaned forward and obediently placed a kiss right on the tip. "Now, suck it!" Seemingly in an almost hypnotic state, Jean took the nipple between her lips and gently sucked it and, guided by Marian's hands, repeated it on the left breast. Her victory secure, Marian pulled Jean to her feet and embraced her as Jean rested her head between the breasts and cried while returning the hug. Actually, Marian had taken a real risk that she was pushing Jean too far and too fast by beating her so badly and then demanding such a clear declaration of submission, but she had won.
Fortunately, Jim was still studying when Jean returned and she was able to conceal her flaming bottom and throbbing cunt. The following morning, after he was gone, she surveyed the damage to her hips in the mirror and was relieved to see that, unlike the bamboo rod, the flat ruler did not leave welts, although there were red-purple spots that were destined to become bruises. She felt her cunt and, while there was a little residual soreness, the swelling had disappeared overnight. Thus reassured about her physical condition, she went to work with only the remembered and future trauma to worry her. She had lain awake for a long time, reliving the ordeal of the previous night, haunted by the immoral contact with Marian's breasts more than the spanking. The thought that she had not only seen those breasts but actually had kissed and sucked both of the nipples -- well, there are no words to describe the jumble of thoughts that plagued her.
All her life, the idea of homosexual, or lesbian, contact with another woman had seemed to be obscene, beyond the pale. She had never conceived of any combination of events or pressure that would have excused her actions. Yet she had done so and, hanging over her and dominating her thoughts, was the realization that she was going to be given the same options that night -- accept Marian domination and go even further down the road to degradation, suffer another furious beating and, after great suffering, take that same road, or categorically refuse and sever relations. She couldn't do the latter without losing her home and job and disrupt her's and Jim's lives. It made no sense to be beaten into submission and end up doing the same immoral acts, but she also couldn't meekly do what she always had considered to be sinful. A no-win situation but the time of choice was bound to come.
Still, the day, itself, was completely normal. Nothing was said about the previous night and the comments and conversation between Jean and Marian were as innocuous as usual -- nothing consequential or alluding to any potential confrontation coming that evening. Nonetheless, Jean felt, all day, a mounting pressure that approached a climax as evening approached. Jim and Jean had dinner and, as usual when Rob Simmons was out of town, she, this time with foreboding, joined Marian. Unlike the rest of the day, the atmosphere was electric. While the conversation was neutral and friendly, both seemed to be filling time until the main event occurred.
With no particular inflection, Marian announced, as she had done on other evenings, "I think I'll take a bath. Would you run the water for me, dear?" Moving like a robot programmed to follow orders even if it led to its destruction, Jean quietly went into the bathroom and began filling the tub, sprinkling in Marian's favorite bubble bath liquid. She wasn't letting herself think, merely acting. Unlike other evening when the bath was late, she had the feeling that she wasn't going home after filling the tub. She did, however, expect to finish and leave the room before Marian entered, but she was startled out of her rigidly held composure as Marian came up behind her, doffed her robe, and stood completely naked, saying, "Please help me into the tub, dear. It gets slippery with that bubble bath soap already in."
Jean was stunned and couldn't help but stare at the voluptuous figure before her. She couldn't avert her eyes to avoid the seeming acres of nude flesh before her, nor frankly, in her shocked state, did she try. The large breasts, hanging pendulously as she bent over to step in, the triangular forest of hair crowning her Mons pubis and, as she turned, the rounded curves of her hips -- all were mesmerizing, even for someone primed to be scandalized by such sights. Finally facing the crossroads that she had feared all day, Jean did what she had known she would do -- capitulate! She couldn't make that catastrophic choice, giving up her job, home and, perhaps, her future, nor could she suffer another agonizing spanking when she knew that she would surrender in the end anyway. Reaching for the washcloth, she, without prompting, began to wash Marian's back.
As she had the day before, she worked the cloth downward, washing in circles until she reached the lower back and the beginning of the buttocks. Delaying as long as possible, she repeated the process going upwards as Marian sighed, "Ah, that feels wonderful." Then, without further comment, Marian leaned back against the rear of the tub, presenting, as yesterday, her breasts floating in the bubble-strewn water, the erect, pink nipples providing a focal point for Jean's transfixed eyes. Resigned to the inevitable, she began washing at the shoulders and worked down over Marian's chest and, finally, onto the left breast. She watched her hand as it seemingly moved of its own volition over the soft, but firm, mound of flesh. The thin soapy cloth slid smoothly over the skin and, despite herself, the sensual sensation overcame her reluctance to touch the other woman. As her hand moved under the breast, lifting and gentling squeezing, she became entranced by the unexpected weight and resilience. Added to that, the turgid nipple, easily one-half inch in diameter and three-quarters of an inch long, pushing against the palm of her hand through the thin cloth, was almost erotic.
Suddenly, Jean awoke from her almost trancelike condition, realizing that she had washed the same breast three times. Blushing profusely, she moved to the other one, giving it a quick but through washing. Not knowing what to do next, she let her hand move below the breasts into the water onto Marian's abdomen and stomach. Marian, who had just been enjoying the manipulation of her breasts with her eyes closed, indicated her approval by arching up slightly, making her middle more accessible. As she did so, Jean's qualms returned, multiplied many times. The whiteness of Marian's skin showed clearly through the water, concealed only partly by the bubbles, and, just barely visible, her cunt hair. As Jean reluctantly began rubbing the wash cloth over the slightly rounded stomach she couldn't take her eyes away from that triangle of hair, dreading the fearful moment that she knew was coming.
Once again, her hand seemed to move without conscious direction from her brain. She watched in that trance-like state as the fingers manipulating the wash cloth moved downwards in a circular path, over the navel and crossing from hip bone to hip bone. Near the hair line, at the hair line and, finally, into the hair, the forbidden pubic area. She was fascinated to see the foaming up as the hair caught the soap from the cloth. She seemed disconnected, yet she, still, even though the cloth, felt the changing texture as she began to wash Marian's most intimate charms. As her hand reached the triangle of hair the legs automatically parted, welcoming and giving access to the secret area between. Accepting that invitation, Jean's hand slid between the thighs and began washing Marian's cunt.
For Jean, the situation was confusing as well as shocking. She watched the hand, obviously knew that it was hers, and actually could feel the separation of the cunt lips, but it still seemed that she was detached from what was going on. Suddenly, she was startled into a more aware condition as Marian pressed upwards toward her hand and even writhed against it, clearly aroused by the manipulation of her vaginal area. Jean's fear and aversion returned as she was pulled out of her mental stupor, suddenly unable any longer to isolate herself from the sexual nature of the situation. Blushing profusely, she quickly ran the wash cloth through Marian's crotch into her anal area (enticing another surge against her hand by Marian) and, anticlimaxally, if there is such a word, down her legs. Ironically, part of the genesis of her profuse blushing was the realization that Marian's reactions had stimulated an unacceptable hint of sexual excitement in her own system!
Finally, with the careful washing of Marian's feet, the ordeal seemed to be over. However, Marian prolonged the torment by saying, as she got up, "Take the spray and rinse me off, and then get a towel off of the rack." As Jean directed the spray over the nude body before her, she was forced to see all parts nicely displayed as the residual foam was washed away. Taking a heated towel from the rack, she began a vigorous drying of Marian's shoulders and back, working down to the hips. She ran the towel over the buttocks and, forcing herself not to think of what she was touching, dried the crevice in between. At that point, Marian revolved, and the entire naked front was presented for drying.
Starting at the neck, Jean worked her way down, drying each breast separately, all too aware of the weight and resilience as she did so. Bending over as she moved further down, over the stomach, she found herself almost at eye level with the blond thatch of wet, matted pubic hair. The towel quickly absorbed the moisture, leaving a springy and curly mound crowning the entrance to Marian's cunt, an entrance made more accessible as her legs parted widely. Trying to keep her mind blank and acting as matter-of-factly as possible, Jean slid the towel inward and gently dried the cunt, uncomfortably aware, as she did so, of the different texture and feel of the hair lined slit. Despite herself and all of her hang-ups, she couldn't resist a quick peek as she pulled her hand out, seeing, for the first time in her life, the cunt lips of another woman. Suddenly embarrassed, she pulled her eyes away guiltily and quickly dried both of Marian's legs, ending what unquestionably was the most traumatic experience of her life.
Actually, of course, really nothing of moment had happened. As Jim would point out later, nurses (male and female) wash female patients all the time. A masseuse will rub a client's entire body without hesitancy. For Jean, however, her background, her beliefs, her inexperience, all made this a harrowing incident out of all proportion to what had occurred. The entire event probably took less time to happen than it did to describe, but Jean's internal conflict lasted
much
longer! She was awake much of the night, filled with conflicting emotions -- she had done what she knew she had to do, but her conscience kept telling her that she shouldn't have. At the same time, despite her qualms, it had been interesting to feel Marian's breasts, even though the washcloth and towel. Things that had been traumatic at the time, now, in retrospect, seemed to be at least interesting. Thus, rationality battled with illogical training and moral imperatives. Ultimately, rationality prevailed since her obvious lack of options made it irrefutable that she had been forced to do what she had done, thus easing her conscience. This decision was made easier when she finally admitted to herself that the whole thing hadn't been so bad, after all. In addition, though this was still something she wouldn't permit herself to recognize that night or for some time to come, she had been aroused by seeing and touching Marian's nude body.
