A Young Man’s First-kinda (Part 1)

The doorbell rang just after eight. John was in the basement listening to music and plotting-no, wrong word-more like fantasizing. He took the steps two at a time and pulled open the front door. Liz was standing there with a small smile, almost a smirk, and too-wide eyes. She was wearing a brightly striped skirt that came to mid-thigh and dark top. Her legs were bare, with dark sandals with a leather bag slung over her shoulder. He’d never seen her dressed like this. It was definitely not “stopping by to check on you” attire and far and away in a different class than his worn jeans and T-shirt.

“Hey Johnny.”

“Hi, Liz.” After a confused pause-“Come in, come in…”

“Thank you”, she said, sarcastically prim and bowing her way past him. He caught her scent, something he had never smelled on her before.  But really, when would he have? The last time they were this close he was otherwise occupied.

“I can’t stay long,” she said. I’m meeting some people downtown but you were on the way and I thought I would-I told your Dad I would-stop by to see you.”

“Sure, Sure. No problem. Come on into the living room. Do you want something to drink?”

“Oh really? You offering me a drink?”

“You can get it yourself-you know where everything is.”

She moved into the living room. “I’d rather you get it for me. CC, that’s Canadian Club, and 7-Up. Lot of ice.”

“I know what CC is.”

He made her drink and poured a 7-Up for himself. He hadn’t been bitten by the booze bug yet-maybe because of the house he grew up in. He’d reflect years later about being a teenager alone in a house full of liquor and touching none of it.

He brought in the drinks. She was sitting in the recliner-which had been his spot even when Carol and Liz were here together. So much for snuggling on the couch which was only one of the fantasies that he had run through his head. He shook his head imperceptibly to get the thought of snuggling out of it. He had no idea where this was going.

“What’s on?” she looked at the TV.

“I don’t know-I wasn’t watching. I just leave it on for background.”

She sipped her drink-“That’s strong.” Wiping her mouth “You trying to get me drunk?”

“You want some more 7-Up?”

“No that’s OK.” With an exaggerated sidelong glance. “I’ll just have to keep my eye on you.”

The thought of the eyes she’d already had on him settled in his stomach and lightened a small flutter in his chest. She had had her hands all over him-his butt anyway-less than a week ago. Suddenly any silences were unwelcome intruders.

“So, you going to a party?”

“Not really a party. Just meeting some work friends at a bar.”

“Meeting your boyfriend?”


“Is he going to be there?”

“Some of the friends will be men. I date men, you know.”

“I wasn’t saying…”

“Not boys.”

“Just an expression….”

Looking sideways at him and lifting an eyebrow-“I really need to keep my eye on you.”

She took another drink-a heavier gulp than the last sip. “Like I said-I told your Dad I would check on you…”

“And you did-I’ll let him know you stopped by.”

“You’re chasing me out?”

“No, not at all. I don’t want to hold you up, is all. You have people waiting for you. Work friends, whatever. Maybe people from nursing school.”

“From where?”

“I heard you were thinking about becoming a nurse.” He threw it out there with a little smile that belied the triphammer in his chest. It was her turn to look away-but with a little mischievous smile. She picked up the glass and drained it.

“I’ll think I’ll have another”, she said holding out the glass. He thought he saw it quiver a bit but she might have been shaking the ice cubes. He, on the other hand, was happy to get out of the room for a moment. He took his time in the kitchen. She was changing the stations on the TV-too quickly to be watching or looking for anything in particular. “I always liked this TV”, she called out to him.

“It’s still almost new”, he said, small talking his way back into the room.

“Try it”, she said as he was handing her the glass. He did-took a sip and let the liquor, it was a pretty strong drink, flow through him.

“Not bad”, he said.

Taking a heavy swallow herself-“You should make yourself one.”

“Naw, I’m OK.”

“So”, her eyes locked on his. “How’s your fever?”

He didn’t look away. He had started it with that nursing school comment, now it was all coming out. “Last I heard, my temperature was about normal.”

“Yes it was as a matter of fact. Normal. But I’m more concerned about what happened to your temperature later.”


“With what was going on down here”, she nodded to the couch. “Over there.”

“Yes. That was something. I heard more than I saw.”

“I guess we were loud-but you had to have a good view.” She leaned toward him. “I was hiding no secrets by the time that was over.”

He did look down then and explained what he saw-what he heard-and more importantly, what he didn’t see and why he didn’t see it. The idea was coalescing in his mind that she had hoped to give him a show-maybe as payback for the whole temperature-taking thing. Was that her idea after all?

“So you didn’t want to see my bare butt-and everything else-while I was bent over that couch letting Carol work out her anger-at you-on me?”

“Oh yeah, I wanted to see. Don’t mistake that. I wanted to. You saw my butt and had your hands all over it-But it wouldn’t have been right. Look-as far as I could see, you were taking my beating. You took it for me. That’s the way I saw it.”

“Sweet”, she said. “Really sweet.” She looked down at his crotch. “You’re enjoying this conversation.” He followed her eyes. There was no mistaking it, so he didn’t even bother. She got up from the recliner and came over to stand in front of him. He looked into her eyes as she took hold of both of his wrists playing a little firm but also to keep her hands from shaking. “That makes this hard”, she said “You were so sweet in not looking but…I think I owe you one, don’t you?”

“One what?”

“You said I was taking your beating. I’m thinking I owe you one.”

“You want to beat my ass?”

She shook his arms “Not like that-not like what I got, not like you’re used to…but I think some kind of spanking is in order. Here…” She went over to the side table and reached into her bag. Inside was a ping-pong paddle-the kind with the rubber stubs on both sides. It was brand new-made of a plastic or resin material. She handed it to him. It was definitely heavier than the paddles he actually played ping pong with at school. “I think this should do the trick.” He held it in his right hand and smacked his left palm. Definitely would sting.

“Would I bend over the arm of the couch-like you did?” And as he had many times.

No, that was too impersonal she told him, having rehearsed many of her answers to questions he might ask. She was thinking he would lay across her lap. She looked away as she said it-into the kitchen as if looking for something-trying to cover the fact that she wasn’t on very steady ground here. She had exposed herself in her desire to spank him and if he refused-or laughed at her-there was no place for her to go from there. Now it was her heart that began to flutter. She had driven around for almost an hour trying to talk herself out of this even after she had bought the paddle at the sporting goods store. She honestly would not be able to explain what it was about this kid that had gotten into her brain. She wasn’t inexperienced with men and had been sexually active for years in one way or another. But this was something else entirely.

Carol had told her about paddling him, of course. It wasn’t sexual for Carol-it was about power-and was just mean. But when Liz found herself sitting with Johnny in the living room or passing him on the way in or out she couldn’t shake the thought of paddling his bare butt. Or at least seeing his bare butt, touching his bare butt. Which had all come to a head, and got pushed too far, with that nurse-playing trick a couple nights ago. Which had been her idea.

Now, as the silence ticked on, she started to think about a quick getaway. Play it like it was a joke and leave. Never come back-never speak of it again.

“OK”, she heard him say through the din in her head.


“It’s only fair.”

If there were speakers connected to their chests the room would have disappeared under rolling thunder.

To Be Continued….


The Reluctant Witness

He lay in bed quietly listening to what sounded like an argument going on downstairs. He was no stranger to Carol (he wouldn’t call her Mom anymore, no matter what she wanted) yelling. He’d heard it enough but he didn’t remember her ever yelling at Liz. He never remembered anything more than a clipped phrase or two to express displeasure or to hurry Liz along when they were going out but this was full-on volume.  It wasn’t loud enough that he could make out the words through the closed bedroom door-but he could hear the sharpness, the anger in the sounds. Below that, he heard Liz’s voice-softer and responsive-parrying the louder charges and attacks. The words seemed to flow into a crescendo then trail down to nothing. He sat on the edge of the bed-almost without realizing he had done it-straining to hear. Then there was silence for a moment; at least the voices stilled. He heard movement and knew they were still downstairs in the living room right at the bottom of the steps.

Then he heard Carol’s voice again-not yelling this time-just clipped staccato bursts of words bitten off until….WHACK!…the sharp report of a smack drowned out everything and seemed to hang in the air like the smoke from an exploded sky rocket. He stood up quickly in time to hear the second crack echo loudly out in the hall.

He tiptoed in a parody of every tiptoeing cartoon he had seen on TV to the bedroom door, opening it carefully-trying to remember if there were any squeaks that might give him away. The door swung open and he stepped out into the carpeted hallway as another stroke fell. This time he heard Liz catch her breath with the impact of it.

He knew this sound too well to not know what was going on. The strapping that Carol had been going to give him a few minutes ago was being given instead-with great gusto apparently-to her friend. And he also knew by the sharp crack of the strap that the blows were falling not on Liz’s khaki shorts, or even on her underwear but on her bare butt. And this was happening at the end of the couch-as it did with him-bent over the heavily upholstered rolled arm.

From the top of the stairs he could hear Liz clearly as she explained breathlessly, “I told you I’m sorry, Carol. I didn’t mean to get between you and him…UUHHH!“ She swallowed a groan as another stroke fell. He stepped down the first step.

“But you did”, the older woman growled. “You did…and I don’t appreciate it.”

Carol was not much for conversation when she was wielding the belt. It was as if she had a job to do and she was going to get to it and on with it. He took another step down. “I won’t do it again”, said Liz. “Really, I won’t.” Her voice was dry, not a hint of tears or desperation in it. He winced as another swat fell loudly. “I..I just thought that with him being sick…”.

Johnny wasn’t hearing the words anymore. The thought of having a heart attack flashed across his consciousness if only because his heart was pounding so loudly as he hit the third step down. Squatting here-just bending a tiny bit-he could peek into the closest part of the living room. He saw Carol’s feet, then her legs as he bent down. She was standing behind Liz who had saved him from this beating and of her he could see feet and as he bent lower, calves. Her legs were crossed at the ankles and she was indeed bent over the arm of the couch and he could see her shorts and underpants gathered in a bunch at her knees. He dropped his head and saw the backs of her thighs-hamstrings tense and quivering.

She yelped as the belt crossed her buttocks again just out of the boy’s sight. “OK, Carol-I won’t say another word. You do what you have to do..if this is what you want…” He watched as she uncrossed her feet and took as firm a stance as she could with the balls of both feet on the floor. Another stroke caused her and Johnny to both jump. One more step and he would be able to see the whole tableau before him: the naked bottom, the strapping, whatever else there was to see since at this point in his life, women and their secret anatomy were as unknown to him as the dark side of the moon except for what he saw in the magazines that his father stashed under the bed.

But he didn’t take that last step; the one which would have shown him things he had thought about but never seen and answered questions he didn’t yet have. He couldn’t take that final step. Instead he backed quietly up a stair, then another. He knew that this was happening to Liz because she hadn’t let it happen to him. And this made him a little protective of her-at least from his prying eyes. His heart still pounded and he winced with every slash of the belt-which came less and less frequently now but no matter how much he wanted to lay his eyes on what was happening in the living room, he really didn’t want to see it.

He slipped quietly back into the bedroom and ever so quietly closed the door behind him.  He tiptoed back to the bed and sat down. The hardness in his pajamas would make it impossible to lie on his belly but that was fine. He plopped onto his back and pulled up the covers and tried to slow his beating heart.


Liz’s text reached him at 2:10.

“Can you be here at 2:45. No later than 3:00?”

He looked at the files piled on his desk and at the task list on the screen in front of him. Nothing that couldn’t wait.

“Sure” he texted back and headed for the door.

Her door was unlocked and he called up the steps, “I’m here!”

“Come on up.” It was 2:53. “We’re in the kitchen.”

“We’re?” he thought as he crossed the living room. In the kitchen, across the table, Liz stood up flashing a radiant full-tooth ear to ear cheerleader smile that lit up her whole face. She had been pouring water into a tea cup for an older woman seated at the table. Liz looked positively girlish with her hair parted in the middle and pulled back behind her ears.  She was wearing a university polo-shirt that fitted tightly to her breasts and clung to her body down to her waist. And that was it-from the waist down she was naked.

He kept moving into the kitchen but slowed his pace a bit. The older woman put down the spoon that she had been stirring with and held out her hand not rising.

“Nancy”, she said. “Nancy Shawn.”

Liz came around the table and stood between them to make a formal introduction. “Nancy, this is John-the man I told you about.”

John put on a wide smile himself, getting into the act that this was the most normal tableau that he could have happened into. The woman had a firm handshake and John was shaken for a moment by what he saw as a resemblance to Carol. Hair color and style was different-but there was something: a rawboned…something.

“So this is the man, huh?” Nancy raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’m not sure which man”, John joshed along, “But definitely one of them.”

“Oh”, said Nancy. “I’m interested in the man who did this.” With that she reached out and touched Liz’s arm. Liz turn her back to John bending slightly with her hands on her bare hips.

Liz’ bottom was a bright pink from her thighs to the deep dimples at the top. The color was deepest in the middle of each cheek but splashed out in lighter shades along both sides of her butt where bright handprints were evident. He could see wide-splayed fingerprints scattered across the tops of her legs.

“Well Nancy”, he fake drawled, “as much as I’d like to take credit for the beautiful work…”

“No, no, silly. Not this”, she patted one of Liz’s pink cheeks. “This. And this.”

She pointed at the two faint purple bruises low on Liz’s bottom that remained from the paddling last week. They had been stubborn and faded slowly but were just about gone-he would have been hard pressed to notice them among that blooms of pink and red had Nancy not pointed them out. Surely though, they were very noticeable when Nancy got her first look at Liz’ otherwise milky bottom this afternoon.

With an exaggerated lean toward where Nancy was pointing he confirmed. “Yes, Ma’am. Those are mine. Would recognize them anywhere.”

“Hmmm” said Nancy rising from her seat. She was wearing jeans and brown suede leather boots with heels that brought her to his height. She stepped close to him and looked into his eyes as if they were tinted windows she was trying to see through. There was a small twinkle in her own eye.

“It’s hard keeping them in line, isn’t it”, she said with a smile.

“Exceedingly so,” he agreed.

She held out her hand. “Very nice meeting you. I have to be somewhere at four and out of here…” with a glance at the clock, “ten minutes ago.”

Liz had turned back to them and John could easily find himself distracted by the slim honey colored patch at the bottom of her flat stomach.

“Come on Nancy, you can stay as long as you want. No Hurry-finish your tea.”

“Love the thought-thank you, but I really have to go.” She gave Liz a sisterly peck on the cheek and patted John’s bicep as she moved passed him. “Maybe see you again. Ta-ta!” And with that she was out of the kitchen, through the living room and gently down the steps. John crossed to the desk watched out the window as Nancy crossed Phillips and slipped into a sleek little German hatchback.

Liz came up beside him. “She has daughter problems. Living at school-bonded with the father-entitled little bitch…etcetera, etcetera. Every time her daughter really pisses her off-I get my ass beat. Wearing the school colors and a field hockey shirt no less. Simple case of transference.”

“Looks like she hits hard.”

“Jesus-and it’s all with her hand. The first time she spanked me it took my breath away.”

“Does she remind you of anyone?” he asked, watching……..

“Not at first-I don’t think. But later, yeah. A little. You know, when I was across her lap the first time and she put her left arm across my back to hold me down? It felt like a railroad tie. Strong. That’s when I thought of Carol. Scared me too-until she flipped up my skirt and really brought me back into the moment. Youch.” Without realizing it, she had started rubbing her right cheek. Feeling the motion John reached back and rubbed the left.

“You can either put some bottoms on and we can go out, or take the top off and we can go in there…”

She reached down and pulled the polo up over her head as she turned on her heel and walked to the bedroom. She unsnapped the bra on the way and tossed it carelessly toward the couch which it missed and landed on the end table next to a folded stack of twenties that he was sure Nancy had left there.   John followed the pink moon into the dim bedroom.


(Continued from There are always consequences)

That’s enough, he thought before he said it out loud. She breathed deeply and straightened up, her jeans and panties puddled on the floor around her feet. Her butt was an angry pink all over with red and purple blotches scattered across both cheeks. She reached back, still facing the street and rubbed her tortured bottom. John knew from hard won experience that it felt hot and tight as if the skin was too stiff to hold the heat. He put the paddle down on the table and dropped to one knee behind her.

“Lift your leg” he told her as he grabbed her right calf. She steadied herself on the desk and did as she was told. He pulled the jeans and underwear off of first one leg then the other. Kneeling with his face so close to her bottom he could almost feel the heat.

She went back to rubbing her bottom as he turned her around and kissed the tears on her cheeks. She kept her eyes downcast so he had to bend slightly to get at her face. He loved the salty taste and kissed all over to leave none behind. He had never paddled her before-certainly nothing this severe- but he didn’t think the tears he was drinking were tears of pain.

“Go lay on the bed”, he told her. Again, she obeyed without question.

John went into the kitchen and opened the freezer. She had a number of bags of frozen fruit that went into yogurt smoothies that she liked to make. He took two bags of frozen blueberries and went into the bedroom. The sunlight that flooded the front room flowed through the open bedroom door and onto the bed where Liz lay face down her brightly colored bottom facing him as he entered. Her head was turned away, resting on her crossed arms.

He sat on the bed beside her and placed the icy cold bags on her butt-one on each cheek completely covering the welts and nascent bruises.

“Ahhh…” she said quietly. “Thank you.”

“That’s OK,” he said rubbing the back of her thigh lightly. “I came on a little harder than I needed to, I think.”

“You did what you had to do”, she muffled into her arm. “You gave me what I needed. What I deserved.”

They sat in silence for a while as he continued to rub his hands gently over her hamstrings and up under the frozen fruit. Liz was breathing deeply and he thought she might have fallen asleep. “You still here?” he asked.

“Oh yes”. As if in answer she lifted her head and shook her hair free-turned to the right so she could see him. “One hundred percent present.”

“Good. Last time for three questions. Nothing but the truth right?”

“I’m not going to lie.”

“Did anything other than conversations and drinks happen between you and Carol?”


“Was it going to?”

After a tiny pause, “I don’t know.”

“Fair enough. Last question-Is it going to now?”

“NO. Nothing happens that you don’t want to happen. And nothing happens that you don’t know about.”

“OK”. He picked the fruit off of her bottom and ran his hands over the cold skin. She reacted-moving her butt back into his hand. He put his hand between her legs and pushed them gently apart then slipped his fingers up under her. She was wet and ready-pushing back against his hand. He slipped out of his pants and underwear and settled between her legs.

“In my ass” she said.

“You don’t come that way-you feel ready to come.”

“I don’t deserve to come.”

“Come on, that’s enough of that. Having your butt beat purple means never having to say you’re sorry.” He felt her smile. “Will you come if I fuck you?”

“Yes”, she said, “Definitely”. She pushed back on her knees opening up her whole bottom to him. He closed and slipped easily in feeling the coolness of her iced cheeks against his hips. Even though John wasn’t a physically big guy, she liked the feel of his weight on her. He kept up a rhythmic thrusting as he pushed down on her upper back and shoulders as if holding her down. Her breath came hard and fast-in prelude to a soft growl starting deep in her throat. John pulled out of her and with his hand guided his cock along the rim of her lips to her tiny engorged clitoris. She began to almost yelp at the rubbing which he kept at until she growled-“IN-IN-IN!!”

He lifted himself on his toes and hand and slammed deeply into her- slapping hard against her bruised butt. Again and again he drove it as far into Liz as he could until her growl grew from something low and guttural into something high pitched and keening. She pushed back with her knees as roughly as he pushed forward until with a quivering, stiffening cry-she came. She kicked back a few more times in spasms then flattened on the bed gulping air.

“Sweet Jesus”, she gasped.

“I’d say so”. It was the best sex the two of them had had with each other in…they would try to remember later. But it was a long time.

There are always consequences

“It’s not like that. Honestly. I’m sorry. I should have told you. Should have told you right away. When I didn’t tell you right away, I couldn’t think of how to do it afterwards.” He let the silence hang there. “Really, I thought…every time we spoke I thought it would be the last time. I didn’t expect we’d talk more than the one or two times…”

“What? You’re leaving?” He had stood up. “Come on John,” there was pleading in her voice. “Don’t just leave.”

Before he could respond, she unwound her legs and popped up herself having made a decision. “Just wait”, she said, walking into the bedroom. “Don’t go anywhere.” He heard her open her closet door then close it. When she walked back into the living room she was carrying an oak paddle. It was thick enough to do the job but light enough-especially with the four holes drilled down the middle-to swing hard. He knew from painful experience that it was long and wide enough to cover a lot of area with every swat. She handed the paddle to him.

“Here”, she said. She stepped over to the desk and turned her back to him. He gripped the handle and felt the weight of the board.

“No”, he said.

“Yes”, Liz answered without turning around. “You have to.”

“I don’t have to do anything.”

She looked back over her shoulder and he saw her eyes glistening. “I need you to.” Their eyes locked for a moment and she turned back toward the street. The old Oriental gentleman from across the street was walking his toy poodle from sycamore to sycamore with the leash in one hand and a green plastic newspaper bag in the other. He walked carefully, picking his way along the buckled flagstones of the old sidewalk. She saw him most days though they had rarely been on the street together to acknowledge one another.

He watched her back-saw the rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathed quickly. Saw her shirt tail-his shirt tail-hanging down almost completely covering her jean-clad bottom. The hours in the gym had won her a firm protruding backside that was stronger and more contoured than it had been a decade earlier. And she dressed it to maximum effect-nothing baggy hanging off of her. His breath was now coming quickly too. He hadn’t moved.

“You have to do this”, she said softly, almost whispering.

He stepped closer to her, taking position to her left. “I suppose I do”, he said flatly.

Her shirt moved as her fingers unsnapped the button on her jeans and pushed down the zipper. John watched over her shoulder as the old Oriental gentleman bent over with the green bag to pick up the waste his dog had left near the curb. Mission accomplished, he crossed the street toward home.