by Ronda DeMure
Spankee: Ageplay Spanking
by Ronda DeMure
All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means, including scanning, photocopying, or otherwise without prior written permission of the copyright holder. Second Edition Copyright © 2017
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Table of Contents
1. Chapter One: Coffee
2. Chapter Two: Conflict
3. Chapter Three: Spanking
4. Chapter Four: Becky
5. Chapter Five: Good Girl
1. Chapter One: Coffee
Unable to suppress a grin whenever she gazed at the “see you soon,” message on her hand held, Rebecca finally clicked it back to the home screen. 9:42am. The meeting was scheduled for ten o’ clock but she had arrived at the coffee shop in plenty of time to find a strategic seat next to the picture window where she would be both out of the way yet able to watch as people approached the door. The morning at home had been routine, just like every other weekday morning. Nick left for work at seven following a quick peck and the cursory ‘love you’ and the girls, Susan and Deborah, boarded the school bus soon afterward, each clutching their paper bag containing a meticulously prepared lunch. Rebecca’s life was the epitome of perfect; happy marriage, nice house, two well adjusted kids. She had made her parents proud and was the envy of many of her friends. Why, then, had she spend the past two years secretly watching women being spanked on the internet? How did those innocent bouts of voyeurism evolve into her enrolling in a spanking site several months ago? She had initially never planned to become involved in chat but, fueled by a growing fantasy of being spanked herself, was soon spending upwards of an hour each morning corresponding anonymously with like minded people. Chat soon led to filling out a profile, which led to email, which led to this morning. The hand held now showing 9:53, Rebecca wrested herself from musing and paid attention to the people approaching from the parking lot. There he was; six feet tall, salt and pepper hair in a pinstripe suit and carrying a black portfolio. He held the door open for a woman customer as she exited then strolled confidently inside and looked around. “Average looking, long dark hair, wearing a blue dress,” was the description she had given to him yesterday and, when he looked her way, her smile provided the affirmation of who she was. “Rebecca?” He matched her smile. “I’m delighted to meet you.”
Momentarily disarmed by his accent, Rebecca awkwardly slid to her feet before she was able to blurt out, “It’s nice to finally meet you Don. You never told me you were English.”
“I certainly hope that doesn’t count against me.” Don said jovially as he placed his portfolio on the table and extended his right hand towards the front counter. “How would you like your coffee?”
“Cream and two sugars, please.”
“I’ll be right back.”
Rebecca watched Don intently as he ordered the coffees. His demeanor, the way he joked with the girl at the counter, even the way he stood at the counter exuded confidence. She smiled at him as he returned with two delicious looking pastries and two steaming mugs on the tray. “Relax, Rebecca,” he said.
Was he also a mind reader?
“We’re just two people here to chat and munch on these goodies.” He picked up his black coffee. “No obligation, remember?” He took a quaff from the mug. “So let’s learn a little more about each other. Tell me, do you always go by Rebecca?”
“Pretty much. When I was a kid I went by Becky but I decided to be Rebecca about the time I got into high school.”
“More grown up sounding?”
“Yes, that’s exactly right.” She recalled how she longed at that age to be older. She also admitted that now, after years of shouldering the responsibilities that went along with being an adult, she sometimes fondly remembered her carefree days as a girl. Don was a great conversationalist, he listened to her every word, and his friendly small talk lulled Rebecca into a comfortable sense of warmth, almost familiarity, with him. Her guard down, she soon freely opened up about her life, and then her frustrations; her sense of something missing, in spite of an outwardly ideal life. Within half an hour she was sufficiently relaxed to ask the question that had been tormenting her. “Can I ask you, Don,” she quickly looked around then leaned across the table so she could whisper. “What it is you get out of spanking somebody?”
Don leaned back into his chair, cradling his coffee. “Pure pleasure,” he said into her eyes. “I simply enjoy spanking for its own sake.” He leaned forward again and added quietly, “Don’t worry. I have no ulterior motive. You can be confident that if you choose to leave here with me it will be just for a spanking and nothing more.”
Rebecca had very pointedly used the words “no sex” in her profile but in spite of that so many of the men who had contacted her insisted that sex was a necessary accompaniment to a spanking. Don had presented himself as a gentleman via email and he clearly was so in person. “Can we go now?” she asked coyly.
It was a short drive to Don’s house and Rebecca stood nervously in the foyer as Don closed the front door behind them. He stood behind her, his hands cupping her shoulders, and whispered, “I want you to take off your dress,” into her right ear. She immediately complied. For some reason, be it either Don’s touch or his commanding accent, her nervousness had completely gone and she happily handed over her dress then turned to face him in shoes and underwear. He told her to place her shoes by the door while he hung her dress in the hallway closet, and then instructed her to remove her bra. His matter-of-fact mannerisms were so calming that she it wasn’t until he was hanging her bra next to her dress that she realized she had even taken it off. She stood attentively and pulled her shoulders back. For some strange reason she wanted him to notice her breasts.
But if Don did notice her breasts, it didn’t show. He took her left wrist in his right hand, walked her slightly in front of him into the next room and positioned her in front of a large black leather couch. “Stand here,” he said, “Hands behind your back.” He then sat down in the middle of the couch, deliberately looking at her. “I like your panties,” he exclaimed, nodding affirmatively at the white lace undergarment.
Her ‘thank you’ was immediate and genuine, yet at the same time that she spoke it she was trying to figure out why his saying that pleased her so much.
“I am going to pull them down, though,” he told her, then leaned forward, reached out with both hands, and proceeded to do so.
In spite of her trembling and accelerated breathing, Rebecca tried to remain still and quiet and began to drift into a dreamlike state while her panties slid past her knees and dropped around her ankles. Other than Nick and her doctor, this was the only man who had ever seen Rebecca naked and the fact that she had met him less than an hour ago only served as an enhancement to her growing excitement.
Suddenly, she was face down across Don’s lap. How did that happen? She felt his right hand massaging the pale flesh of her right buttock while his left hand gently caressed her shoulders and neck. By the time Don had moved his hand to the left side of her bottom, Rebecca was lulled and relaxed; her eyes mere slits. Don’s words, “I believe you are now ready for your first spanking,” seemed to be coming from far away.
The first slap was more audible than sensory, but was followed by a warm tingle right before the next one struck. The strokes were evenly placed and, after a dozen of them, Rebecca felt her whole bottom glowing. Unable to close her mouth, she could hear her breathing become more rapid as both the frequency and the intensity of the spanking increased. She involuntarily tried to push her shoulders upwards but Don’s left ha
nd on the back of her neck kept her at bay as he continued to spank her crimson behind. The fire now radiating from her bottom was spreading through the inside of her thighs, but it was not registering as pain. She couldn’t describe it, it was a sensation she had never known before, and all she did know was that she didn’t want it to stop. Not yet. Not until...she suddenly found herself straining in vain against Don’s grip, writhing and trying and press her wanting pussy against his leg. In their email correspondence he had promised to permit her an orgasm when she was ready, and she most certainly felt that she was. Clearly, however, the determination of ‘readiness’ was not to be hers.
“Not yet. I’m going to give you six more strokes first,” Don told her, completely unaffected by her gasping and struggles. “And they’re going to be good ones.”
Those last strokes came down hard and, her mouth wide open in response to them, Rebecca pushed with all she could muster against his left hand, but with her hands unable to make solid contact with the floor her effort was futile. Immediately after the last stroke, though, Don informed her that he now intended to follow through on his promise. Rebecca tried to spread her legs in anticipation as she felt Don’s hand move between them. His thumb effortlessly slid inside her, instantly finding her engorged g-spot while two fingers alighted on her clitoris. His simple squeeze was all that was necessary. Rebecca exploded noisily into the most intense orgasm she had even known, her whole body tightening in ecstasy accompanied by a previously unknown primal scream before she collapsed limpid back across Don’s lap. Don slowly removed his hand and soothed her glowing bottom with her abundant moisture before effortlessly flipping her face-up. He cuddled her into his lap, her knees up as he leaned back onto the couch, enveloping her in his left arm. She could feel his breath and the gentle touch of his right hand toying with her hair while she nuzzled contentedly into the nape of his neck. “Well, Rebecca,” Don whispered after several quiet minutes. “You’ve now been spanked.”
When Deborah and Susan came home from school later that afternoon they found their mother in a wonderful mood, insisting on taking them out for ice cream instead of the normal routine of setting them about their homework, simply saying they could do it later that evening. The girls, of course, did not object. When Nick slid between the sheets that night to assume the missionary position on top of his wife he was thrilled with Rebecca’s affectionate responsiveness, completely unaware of the effect that his vanilla routine was having on her still warm bottom as he pounded it against the bottom sheet. Satisfied, he rolled off her and, after an obligatory kiss, instantly fell asleep. Rebecca, however, lingered as long as she was able in that disconnected pre-sleep zone trying to comprehend her muddled thoughts. The spanking had been everything she’d hoped for, but it had brought with it an unexpected bonus, a consequence actually. She had never expected that being spanked could enhance her regular life. Rebecca’s earlier assuredness that a one-time spanking would satisfy her so she could then put it behind her was being called into question as she subjected that previous thinking to the fluid analysis of slumber.
2. Chapter Two: Conflict
Don responded to the text message with the question, “I thought you just wanted a one-time experience?” It had been a week since he had spanked Rebecca and, while he was pleased to hear from her again, he was also surprised. She had been very clear in all their correspondence prior to meeting that she simply wanted to know first hand what it was like to be spanked. She was a happily married woman with a secret fantasy to fulfill and, once done, that was to be it.
Rebecca’s return text was almost immediate: “I’m a bit confused about things. Can we meet for coffee and talk?”
“It would be my pleasure; how about 10am tomorrow, same place?”
“I’ll be there. Thanks.”
It was a few minutes to ten when Rebecca, dressed in a gray sheer-front blouse, blue jeans and silver faux snakeskin heels, arrived at the coffee shop. Don was already sitting at the same table where they first met. He immediately rose on seeing her walk in and gave her a welcoming hug. “I have your coffee all ready,” he said, nodding towards the tabletop as she sat down. “It’s rather quiet in here today.” He sat opposite her and continued in a slightly quieter voice, “So no-one can listen in on our conversation.”
“That’s good.” Rebecca sipped at her coffee. “Mmm, just the way I like it.”
“I aim to please.”
“Oh, you do that very well.” She responded without thought, then buried her face into her coffee mug in an attempt to hide an instant blush.
Don just smiled, brushed the lock of raven hair that had flopped across her face back behind her left ear and waited for her to look up again. “So you liked being spanked then?” he teased.
“I liked it way too much, actually.”
“I see.” Don leaned back into his chair and picked up his coffee, his eyes not leaving her face.
“And therein lays my conflict.” She cradled her drink in both of her hands. “For a couple of days afterward it made things so much better at home.” She quickly looked over her shoulder to make sure nobody had sat at a close by table before continuing. “Sex, I mean. I actually came with my husband.”
“Hmm, that’s good; yet I sense there must be a ‘but’ coming.”
“But it didn’t last, so now I’m back to my toys while I watch spanking on line.” She twisted her mouth. “Except that toys and voyeurism isn’t doing it for me anymore.”
“Now that you know how much you like it, why not ask your husband to spank you?”
“I did, but he said that was sick and that I must be watching too much daytime television. He told me that if you love someone you don’t go around beating on them. Trust me; this is not a concept that Nick is ever going to get.” She vibrated her head. “It’s not even worth trying.” Rebecca deliberately placed her mug in front of her and put both of her hands on the tabletop. “So, I came up with an idea.” She looked directly at Don. “Would you consider spanking me on a somewhat routine basis?”
“You’re suggesting that we have an ongoing relationship?”
“Yes,” her head tilted to the left and she tried to suppress a smile, “Just for spanking.”
“So instead of your one-time fantasy, you feel you’d now like to become a regular spankee, eh?”
“Yes, I would; but still without sex.”
Don looked thoughtful and took a swig of coffee. “I take it that by ‘without sex’ you’re just referring to vaginal intercourse?” He put his mug down. “I am rather partial to a former president’s definition of what constitutes sex, you know.”
“I’d wondered about that.” Rebecca made a security clutch on her coffee mug and stared at her hands. “That’s the biggest part of my problem; I don’t want to cheat on Nick.”
“What’s Nick’s take on Clinton?”
Rebecca burst into laughter. “What Nick thinks,” she raised her right index finger until she brought her chuckling under control. “He refers to him ‘president pervert.’” Still grinning, she shook her head. “All we do is straight, missionary. Nick says oral is disgusting.”
“What about you? What are Rebecca’s thoughts?”
“Well,” she blushed again. “There was this one time in college after I’d been drinking.” Rebecca looked up, a coy smile extending to her eyes. “Maybe, down the road,” she said. “But I don’t want to at this point.” She slid her right hand across the table until it touched Don’s left and murmured. “Would that be okay?”
Don’s eyes motioned to the crowd that had just entered the coffee shop and were filling up the tables. “Let’s continue this conversation at my house,” he said. “I have excellent coffee there, too.”
“You’ll have to excuse the mess in the kitchen,” Don explained as Rebecca stared at the fresh drywall. “I’m in the middle of having it re-done. The floor is all finished and they’ll be back tomorrow to finish the walls.” He spread his arms out. “By Wednesday this is g
oing to look perfect.” He beckoned to the table and chairs in front of the window overlooking the garden. “Have a seat,” he said and proceeded to grind some coffee beans.
“I do like the floor,” Rebecca said, admiring the red clay tiles. “What are the walls going to look like?”
“I want to have a natural, almost outdoorsy feel in here, so it will be wallpaper with a light colored brick and ivy design.”
The espresso machine forced the rich liquid into the carafe with a satisfying whoosh and Rebecca tasted the aroma while Don frothed the milk. He prepared the cappuccinos as if he were creating a work of art, adorning them with freshly grated nutmeg and chocolate before presenting them in front of her on the table. “Voila!”
“I’ve never had cappuccino,” Rebecca admitted as she raised the cup to her lips. “Mmm, delicious,” she looked up with a froth covered lip. “You’re spoiling me.”
“And I’d like to continue to do so. Perhaps you’d also enjoy being introduced to some implements which can be used in conjunction with spanking. I have a leather crop that I’m rather partial to, for example. It makes a most wonderful sound.”
Rebecca’s legs separated under the table as she squirmed in her seat. Why did his words have that effect on her?
“I suspect you might like that.” He added, teasingly.
Rebecca finished her drink and licked her top lip to remove the last bit of froth. “May I use your restroom?” she asked.
“Certainly,” Don replied, still sipping at his cappuccino. “Just down the hallway on the right.”
Rebecca scurried away with a wry smile, returning only a few minutes later without her blue jeans on and her panties dangling from the fingertips of her right hand. She was still wearing the gray blouse but in place of the pink floral bra, which had been so delightfully evident beneath the flimsy material previously, her nipples were now begging for escape against the fabric. The blouse was long enough to cover the top part of her thighs but the darkness of her neatly trimmed pubic mound was clearly visible through it. Eyes averted, Rebecca extended her right hand towards Don, offering her panties to him as she softly murmured, “Please.”