You hang up the phone, your hands shaking, feeling almost numb from the conversation with your husband, the love of your life. You have been apart from each other for several months now, and even with the constant texting and conversations you have with each other the stress of this situation seems unbearable. You feared this conversation was coming and yet you knew that it was a certainty to happen.
To say that your emotional and mental state had been sliding into depression in the last couple of months would be a serious understatement. But that is true for both of you, and you also know that his concern is well founded. You have emotional break downs fairly regular and would feel a little better for a while, but then you would have another bout of depression overwhelm you. That doesn't make this decision any easier.
You have broken almost every rule that is on your discipline contract and the guilt from those broken rules is one of the many reasons for the emotional turmoil you seem to feel every day. You know he is right.
You go to the computer and email your friend asking him to please write back as soon as he can. You add that it is very important you speak with him as soon as possible.
Your friend has answered you by the time you work up the nerve that evening to check your email. He hopes everything is alright and is there to talk whenever you need him.
With a sigh to yourself, you finally write to your friend; 'Thank you for getting back to me so quickly. I am a bit embarrassed to share this with anyone, but here goes. My husband and I live in a domestic discipline relationship and with us apart I have not been able to get the discipline spankings I require. After you and I had the couple days of flirting by email last month, I realized that you were also a fan of the spanking lifestyle. I did say that our flirting made me a bit uncomfortable, but only because I thought you would want sex if we continued, especially since you don't seem to have anyone else to give you the sexual release men need.
I have needed a discipline spanking for quite a while now, but my husband cannot be here to administer that discipline. He has asked if you are willing to give me that spanking. There can be no sex between us, only the spanking. Would you please agree to help me out with this?'
You sit at your desk hoping that he won't say no, and your heart is racing at the thought that he might agree. You are startled when you realize that the thought of being spanked by someone other than your husband has you aroused!?!
Your husband had spent years saying that he would not ever leave you, and that you couldn't do anything to lose him. But your fears seem so very real right now. You are terrified at the thought of being spanked by someone else, yes. But you hadn't expected arousal at the thought of being across your friend's knee. This thought takes you by surprise, especially when you also realized that your crotch is more than a little damp.
You are deep in thought when you just about jump out of your seat at the sound of an incoming message. 'Oh boy, here we go' you say to yourself as you try to slow your breathing.
The message is indeed from your friend, and it has only been ten minutes. Just as your husband thought, he was on line when you answered his first email.
You open his message, and let out an audible gasp at the two words he has sent. Your hands start shaking uncontrollably as you read 'Ten tonight'.
You wear your tight jeans with white panties, your long sleeve, white button up blouse, but no bra, and your black flats.
You also plan to take along the special discipline paddle your husband has made for you. It is long, broad, and thick, just the size to cover over two thirds of your fanny. It is covered evenly with holes drilled into it to remove the air cushioning most paddles have, and the surface has been sanded smooth and has a varnish coating to avoid any splintering. When you had first seen it, the fear in you was palpable. But, so was your excitement.
You undress and go take a scalding hot shower, which helps clear your head. You dry your thoroughly clean body, and then blow dry your hair into the style your husband told you he liked, and then you dress. Lastly, you put on makeup. Mascara, eyeliner, rouge all lightly and tastefully applied, with a deep red lipstick to finish the job. The job isn't perfect due to your still shaking hands, but you look quite attractive as you stand before the mirror, and you smile just a little as you dab on perfume.
You don't take anything with you except the discipline paddle stuck into a Wal-Mart sack, as you walk the eight blocks to your friend's house. When you arrive, the porch light is on but the house looks dark. You stand in the warm glow of illumination to look down at yourself, and realized that the constant rubbing of the fabric of your blouse has made your nipples erect. The effect makes it abundantly clear that you wore no bra, and you almost lose your nerve right then and there. You are just starting to turn back home when the door opens and you see your friend sitting in his roll around desk chair smiling up at you.
'Please come in' he says, smiling even wider as he looks you up and down, and rolls back to allow you access.
Your husband had said hundreds of times that sex was not love; it was only a release of physical need. He had been raised having casual sex since he was a young man and had, more than once, shared his fantasies of watching you ride another man until you climaxed. But as you stood there on your friend's porch, in your mind you were adamant that a spanking was the only release you needed. Discipline and sex did not belong together, period. You're shaking again as you step hesitantly inside, and the door is closed and locked behind you.
The first things you notice are the candles, dozens of them are scattered around his comfortable living room, giving it a soft glow. And he has incense burning on the coffee table next to a carafe of blush wine and two glasses.
'Please sit down' he says nervously, 'would you like a glass of zin?' And he reaches for a glass when you nod yes. He is wearing a button up, long sleeve shirt, and black slacks with black sneakers. His hair is just a bit disheveled, but his beard and mustache are neatly combed, and you can smell his cologne as you sit and take the glass of wine from him, setting the paddle next to you as he pours a glass for himself.
'Whatcha got there?' he says with a nervous laugh.
You take the bag with the paddle handle sticking out, and hand it to him, still not saying anything. He takes the paddle out and whistles lightly, 'Wow, that's almost scary' he says chuckling, and hands the paddle back to you.
'That is for my spanking' you say in a very soft voice, and push the paddle back to him.
You take a large swallow to shore up your courage before you say 'I know you have wanted to give me a spanking, you said as much in our email flirting. And even though that made me uncomfortable, I have thought about it as well, though I might need something a bit stronger to go through with it'.
'I will only do this on one condition' he says as he goes over to a cabinet and opens it.
Rolling your eyes, you think to yourself he wants sex. 'And that condition?' you ask softly.
'You have to swear that we will remain friends' he says, returning with a bottle of rum, and two shot glasses, in his hand.
Laughing you say 'I promise'. With that, you lean back with a sigh of relief, feeling sure that he isn't going to try and force you or guilt you into sex with him.
'Then it's settled' he says, 'a toast. To good friends, good wine, and especially to good spankings'. You two clink glasses and laugh nervously as you take a drink, feeling the wine start to ease the tension of the day, and of the moment.
'Will you be spanking me on your chair, or the couch?' you ask after about an hour of nervous conversation, and a couple of shots of rum.
'Neither' he says with a sly grin. 'I have a spot prepared already'. And he stands with his hand extended to you. His initial nervousness seems to have gone, but yours is back with a vengeance.
You take his hand and allow him to help you up, and then follow him to the other end of the house, into his den. There are three hurricane lamps with their wicks down low, giving the room a lot of shadow. But you have no problem seeing that he has placed an armless chair in the center of the room with a table beside it. On the table is an assortment of paddles, a flogger, a leather belt, some lotion, and a bottle of oil.
'Didn't know you would be bringing your own paddle' he says sheepishly, grinning from ear to ear as he leads you to the side of the chair and he sits setting the paddle you brought on the table beside him.
'Would you grab that pillow' he says and points to a pile of pillows in one corner. 'So you have a soft spot to sit'.