I Need A Spanking

This story is written from multiple points of view. John and Jessica are married. Jill, Marci and Pam are John's employees.

This is a long story, but I prefer not to write in parts Thanks to LSEiland for her very helpful editing

Jessica:

I was at home on a Friday, looking forward to the weekend, when the phone rang around 3 pm. I heard the hushed voice of my husband saying, "I need a spanking."

I had not expected to hear John on other end, much less that request. Initially speechless, I knew he was still at work. He owned a lingerie company, and business was not going so well anymore with all the competition from Victoria's Secret.

After about 15 seconds of silence, I responded. "Well, I could get the ping-pong paddle from the basement and come to your office. I am sure your employees would love to see me paddle your bottom." We had playfully spanked each other as part of our lovemaking, but we never indulged in any S&M.

"No, you know what I mean," said John.

I suggested another alternative, "Then, I could do it after dinner. I could treat you like a naughty boy. I will tell the kids you get no dessert and that you need a spanking. I could put you over my knee in front of the children."

I paused and then asked, "Where are you now?"

"I'm on my cell phone calling from my washroom." He has a personal washroom within his office.

"Have you been masturbating?" I inquired. He has admitted to me in the past that he has resorted to masturbation during the workday. He always found himself thinking of fantasies that we could role play once he got home.

Earlier this year, he hired three new secretaries- no, I mean administrative assistants. I have met Jill, Marci and Pam, each very attractive and in their early 20's. This job was their first introduction to the workplace.

John paused before answering, revealing the answer before he admitted it. "Yes, I've been a bad boy."

"I told you it was a mistake to hire those three young women. Have they been in your office for one of your meetings?" I inquired in a chiding tone.

John became defensive, "They are all very valuable for the success of the company." He started to justify their presence. "They keep the buyers interested in our products." He told me that he expected them to dress seductively as part of the job.

"I hope you locked the door," I reminded him. He had told me about a day when one of the girls walked into his bathroom, thinking he was out of the office. He had just finished one of his masturbation sessions before she walked in.

I heard some noise in the background and a distinct click. "Yes, of course the door is locked."

"What do you have them wearing today?" I knew there was something that initiated this call, and I wasn't going to let him off easily. He insisted that they wear lingerie made by the company. He called it premarket testing, but I know his fantasies are the reason he had eagerly given them the products to wear. He insisted that they always wear skirts or dresses that were above the knee, as pants were not allowed. High heels were compulsory.

"Just a skirt and blouse, as usual," John said. I could tell from his voice that he was withholding something. It was Friday, and Wednesday was the only day the women were required to wear stockings to work with one of the garter belts made by the company. However, I know the company had been manufacturing some new pantyhose. He was staking the future of the company on these, despite the trend for women to wear pants, sans pantyhose.

"Are they wearing one of your new products?" I questioned him.

After a long pause, he said timidly, "Maybe."

"So what item are they wearing? Is that what is preoccupying you this afternoon?"

"They are wearing the new glossy pantyhose that came in yesterday."

"Ahh-Haa," I said as the word 'glossy' slipped off his tongue, as if it was totally unimportant.

"I know why you're in the bathroom masturbating. It's those glossy pantyhose," I told him.

"If you spank me, maybe I can develop an aversion to women in pantyhose," he repeated.

"Are you sure they are not sitting on your desk, dangling those long legs, as we talk?" I inquired.

He paused on the other end of the phone. "You're not taking me seriously."

"We'll discuss this more tonight." I hung up the phone.

While I told John that we would discuss it more tonight, I would not let this opportunity go unrealized. I went up to my bedroom, put on my 8 strap garter belt, sheer stockings, demi-cup bra, and a gray business suit. I wore my black patent leather 3-1/2 inch heels, and then made my way to his office.

I asked one of his administrative assistants if John was in, she said he was meeting with one of the other executives and would be back soon. She invited me to sit on the sofa in his office. This was perfect, as the sofa was facing his desk. I sat down and started to read a magazine. In a few minutes, John and his CFO, Edward, came into the office. John was obviously surprised when he saw me. He stumbled into the side of his desk, as if he was walking in the dark in an unfamiliar room. John sat at his desk, opposite his coworker who had his back to me.

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John:

Oh my God, I didn't expect my wife to come into the office.

She caught our attention, looking like she was the CEO of her own business, very professional, but very attractive. She feigned indifference, "Oh, you men must have business to discuss. Maybe I should come back later."

Ed answered, staring at her patent leather heels with her painted toes peeking out of the open toes. "Oh no, we will be done in just a moment. We were just going over the financial figures before the end of the week." Ed then took a seat opposite my desk. His back was to Jessica, not blocking John's vision of her on the sofa.

She crossed her legs, one shoe dangling off the tips of her toes. I just confessed that I had been naughty and needed some punishment. Ed was talking, but I wasn't listening to him. My mind flashed---

she can't spank me here

---

someone will hear

---

I might yelp

---

what if we got caught

---

I thought it would be playful

---

I don't like the look in her eyes

. Uh-oh...

I returned my attention to Ed, briefly. She lifted up the hem of her skirt, and started to readjust her stocking tops and garters, one by one. She was wearing one of our retro lingerie items, an 8-strap garter belt which she has resisted wearing in the past, saying it made her look like a dominatrix. I noticed she wore stockings with reinforced heels and toes and a welt over her sole. She knows all my weaknesses.

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Jessica:

By the time Ed finally left, it was late Friday afternoon. Most of the staff had departed already. I went over to John's desk, "So you need a spanking? You must have been a very naughty boy today." I scolded him. He sheepishly shook his head, admitting his sexual transgressions. I was sure he was already regretting his phone call.

"Get up John, so I can sit in your chair," I said in a commanding voice. "Then drop those pants while I look through your desk for an appropriate paddle for your bottom." He dutifully obeyed. I found a wide ruler. "Perfect."

Beside me was my husband, pants down at his ankles. "Now drop those briefs, and bend over my knees." As he did, I positioned his cock between my stocking clad thighs, squeezing it tightly so he couldn't move. I delivered the first spank, with a sharp crack of the ruler. Just as I was ready to deliver the second, there was a knock on the door. I pointed to the space underneath the desk, and he scrambled to be out of sight.

"Come in," I said. Marci, one of the administrative assistants he recently hired, opened the door. She was surprised to see me sitting at the desk. I offered an explanation, "John just stepped out. I came in to join him for dinner here in the city." As I said this, John was kneeling in front of me underneath the desk. I put my hand behind his head and directed his face into my crotch, so he could smell the ethereal aroma emanating from the dampness of my panties.

Marci replied, "Three of us are going to O'Reilly's down the street for a Friday get-together. We really would like you to join us." As she said this, I could feel John shaking his head between my thighs with an emphatic NO. Without hesitation, I responded, "That's great, Marci. We would love to join you. How about we see you in about 20 minutes?"

"John is always a lot of fun to be with, I'm looking forward to it," said Darcy. With that she turned and left the room, shutting the door as she left.

I looked down at John. He resembled a panting dog ready to beg for a treat. "This should be a lot of fun," I said as my mind went into overdrive, prolonging the teasing of my husband before he received the punishment he desired.

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John:

We walked into O'Reilly's, and spotted the three girls sitting at the bar. There was only one table left, as it was a busy Friday night. The table was directly adjacent to them and only two chairs remained. I suggested to Jessica that there was no room for us, but Jessica grabbed my hand and led me to the remaining table, where we sat down. The three girls turned their barstools to face us. Jessica knew that I was able to look directly up their skirts. Each of them was elevated on their barstool, wearing the glossy pantyhose. They had already started with Cosmopolitans. Jessica ordered them another round, adding a Martini for her and Scotch for me. She did most of the socializing.

I tried not to stare at these three beautiful women, perched on their stools. They were each long legged and very sensual. It was clear that Jessica's intent was to loosen their inhibitions with alcohol. As they enjoyed their third round, the skirts were riding up and the conversation became more animated. The barstools were just wide enough for their bottoms, causing them to frequently reposition themselves. They adjusted their skirts to maintain a modicum of modesty.

Jessica, noticing that the stools were no longer conducive to conversation, suggested we move to a booth in the corner that had been vacated. I was positioned in the middle of the booth, with two women on either side. They were able to talk more intimately in this location. Jessica asked them about their boyfriends and love lives. Finally, she asked, "Have you ever been spanked by your boyfriend?"

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Jill:

I had more than my limit and was beginning to slur my words. Jessica's last question was like a lightning bolt. They must have known the effect it had on me from my intense blush, as everybody looked directly at me.

I paused, and then admitted to them, "I just celebrated my 23rd birthday. My boyfriend, Tom, warned me for the last month that he was going to spank me 23 times on my birthday. He took me to a romantic restaurant. I thought he might have actually forgotten or never intended to do it in the first place. However, when we returned to my apartment, he sat in a chair and then motioned for me to come over, where he put me over his knee. I had pantyhose on. He lifted my dress and rubbed the cheeks of my bottom, preparing me for what was to come. He delivered the first spank with his hand. I was protected by the thin layer of the nylon.

Tom said, "I love to see your bottom jiggle in the pantyhose when I spank it." He rubbed me before each spank, increasing the anticipation, prolonging the interval, delaying the completion. By the time he completed all 23 spanks, my bottom was sore, and I am sure it was red. I had been keeping count, and yelled "23!!!!" leaving no doubt that I did not want any more slaps to my bottom. He led me to the bedroom, positioned me on all fours on the edge of the bed, ripped open the gusset of my pantyhose with his fingers, pushed aside my thong and penetrated my drenched pussy with his rigid cock."

Satisfied with my drunken admission, I looked at Pamela, "Why don't you tell Jessica and John about that little spanking incident you had in high school."

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Pamela:

"Jill, I told you never to repeat that. I'm so embarrassed." Unfortunately, it was my turn, after Pam revealed my secret. I whispered to Jessica, "I was spanked by my principal in my senior year of high school." The memory was vivid, even though it happened eight years ago.

"We had taken one of the pictures of our sex education teacher, superimposed his head on the body of a nude male with a very large erection, and published it in the yearbook. As I was the editor, the principal called me to his office and told me that the teacher was very upset with the picture. He had discussed the incident with the school board and they threatened to not let me graduate. I pleaded with him, letting him know that I would do anything if he would just let me complete school. He said that he didn't want me not to graduate, but the only alternative would be that I would need a spanking instead. We made a tacit agreement that I would never reveal that he punished me. The noticeable erection in his pants made it clear to me that he had a proclivity for spanking young females.

"He told me to pull down my pants. I was wearing just a thong, so my buttocks were firm but unprotected from the oncoming assault. I regretted that I had not worn panties that day. He said nothing, but just pointed to his desk and I dutifully bent over, my chest resting against the solid wood. The thin piece of nylon wedged between my ass cheeks and pussy lips as I bent over. I could feel him place his foot between mine; urging me to spread my legs apart until he was satisfied with my position. I watched him walk to the front of the desk and pull out a slipper with a rubber sole.

"As he looked into my eyes, he slapped the slipper on the palm of his hand. He darkened the room by closing the shades. Not another word was spoken. He disappeared behind me, administering a swat with the slipper on my bottom, followed by one, and then another swat, each leaving an intense sting. After the third, I rose up and rubbed my bottom with both hands, but he was clearly not finished. I bent over the desk again, receiving my last seven swats. Satisfied, he returned to his desk chair. "You may go now. I will see you at graduation." He put his finger to his lips, uttering a barely audible shush, indicating an implicit secrecy between us."

I continued, "Two weeks later, at graduation, he called my name as I walked up to the stage. He handed me my diploma, shook my hand, and wished me congratulations on my accomplishment of graduating. He appeared confident that his fetish would remain a secret."

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Marci:

I knew I was last and that all eyes were upon me now. I admitted to them, "I have also been spanked." I relayed an incident that occurred about five years ago. I had never told anybody about this before tonight. While I was not sure I wanted to share my story, the alcohol and circumstances gave me the courage to divulge details of the adventure. "Henry, my boyfriend at the time, and I went to see a movie called 'The Secretary.' There was a scene in the movie where the secretary was making mistakes in her typing, and her lawyer boss at a law office had her bend over the desk as she read the letter she had typed. Each time she had made a mistake, he spanked her.

"Henry was clearly excited after the movie, asking me if I had any mistakes to admit. I assumed he was just joking, never imagining what was going through his mind. I had never been spanked before and was never very adventurous in the bedroom. When we returned home from the movie, Henry said, "I want you to type a letter for me." His intentions were now obvious, and he knew I was a very good typist. I sat down at the computer and he started to dictate a letter, pretending to write a story for Literotica, describing spanking a woman before sex.

"Initially, I kept up with him flawlessly, and thought I had subverted his plans. However, he started to dictate more quickly, and mistakes were inevitable. After about two pages, he completed the story. He looked over my shoulder, saw a few errors, and told me that corrections were necessary. The room was dim, lit only by the glow of the computer screen. He made me bend over, so I was staring directly at the screen. I read the text back to him, errors included. Each time there was an error, I felt the sting of his hand on my bottom, not hard, more playful actually. It was just enough to elicit a warm stinging sensation. After I completed the letter, he positioned himself on the floor, his face between my legs. Inviting me to squat over him, his tongue protruding, he performed cunnilingus, a sensation I had never experienced before. I felt so slutty, yet so satisfied.

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Jessica:

I ordered everyone one more drink. After each of the girls had described their intimate adventures, any remaining inhibitions of their secret lives had been barred. I spoke up, "You know, John called me earlier today and said that he needed a spanking." I continued, "Now, why would a grown man call and tell me that he needed a spanking? What has been happening at work?"

All three of the girls looked at John, each with a bit of a smirk on her face. After gazing at him, they focused on each other. It did not seem to come as a surprise to them. There were obviously some workplace issues that I was unaware of. I needed to find out what John had been doing.

I offered, "Why don't the three of you join us at our home tonight. You've had too much to drink and I don't want you to go home on the subway in this condition. John said he needed a spanking--- and I intend to give him one --- so I may need your help."

The women nodded in agreement, as this appeared to be the only alternative for the evening. "I need to find out why John needs to be punished and I know he won't tell me." I looked at John, "Why don't you order us car service, John, and let us know when it has arrived."

He was obviously embarrassed and anxious to leave the table. He could see that the events were no longer in his control. When the limo arrived, John and I sat on one side, and the three were women opposite us. The back was dimly lit, but I could see their long legs stretched out. I knew we had just gotten started.

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Jill:

The ride home took approximately 30 minutes. Pam and I were sitting on either side of John, and we both had way too much to drink. From the look in Pam's eyes, I knew she was interested in a little mischief. We each crossed our legs, rubbing our nylon clad thighs together to give the unmistakable swish of nylon on nylon. Pam removed her heels, and her red toenails were visible through the nylon material. Marci was sitting directly opposite him. She also removed her shoes, rubbing her nylon covered foot a few inches up John's pant leg. The glossy sheen reflected the ambient light from the courtesy lamps, accentuating our legs in the otherwise dim cabin.

We arrived, and all sat around their living room. Jessica brought out some marijuana joints that she lit, took a long drag, and then offered them to us. She left the room briefly and brought back a number of appropriate implements for carrying out a spanking. This included wooden spoons, a very wide belt and a short leather paddle. She also put a pair of dice on the coffee table. When we saw the paddle, Jessica assured us that it had been in safekeeping and was never used on John's virgin bottom. John sat on a chair adjacent to the sofa, speechless, obviously regretting he had ever uttered those four words.

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Marci:

Jessica asked, "Marci, why don't you tell us about an embarrassing circumstance at work where John put you in a compromising position."

I had no difficulty remembering an episode that happened six months ago, soon after I started working for her husband. I relayed the incident, "John said we needed to change the light bulbs to more energy efficient fluorescents. The ceiling in his office was about 9 ft. high it would require a ladder to reach the bulbs. It was a "Stocking Wednesday," the day when we're required to wear stockings rather than pantyhose, so as to market the comfort and wearability of our garter belts.