(Continued from The Whipping Girl-Meeting Nancy)
The rough texture of the couch cushion where she lay her head didn’t register with Liz as her mind washed slowly out to the edge of consciousness. The spanking was far enough along that she was largely numbed to the smacks as long as they covered old ground. Once every few swats Nancy would hit higher or lower and she’d maybe jump a tad, or suck in some air or give a little “ouch” but by and large she was relaxed lying there.
Since her first spanking as a wee tot she swears she was conscious of-that she felt-the little fire smoldering between her legs ignited by the slaps to her bottom. Especially those spanks that fell at the bottom of her bottom, where the slaps echoed though the voids and crevasses where everything came together and sent tiny shocks buzzing through her down under.
She couldn’t believe that anyone else could feel this way and was convinced that she was the most vile little girl. No matter who had smacked her bottom back then-her mother (reluctantly), her father (vigorously, when he was still around), her older brother (twice as horse play and one time not, which was very confusing), elementary school teachers or boyfriends (not often enough) she came away less chastened and more energized and excited than anyone could know.
How depraved she thought she was when, after being spanked, all she wanted to do was go to her room or any private spot where she could reach down her front to find that secret spot that was already buzzing and rub it till it screamed.
These were not conscious thoughts that Liz was having now-nor clear memories bubbling to the surface-just woven strands of the fabric that made her who she was. Nothing that needed to be considered. Right now she was content to lay half naked across Nancy Shawn’s legs and have her friend take her to a different place.
But the ride was slowing. The time between spanks grew longer and the swats were not delivered with the same vigor. Between blows Nancy would gently rub one cheek then the other. This was different. Not unpleasant, but different. Nancy wasn’t the rubbing kind.
The whole visit today was a little “off”. It began with an unexpected “can I come over?” text from Nancy. Ever since her daughter had come home from college and they had reached their…accommodation, the primary reason for Nancy’s visits was gone. There was no more anger to be worked through-no direct line between Bethany pissing her off and Liz gritting her teeth through an enthusiastic butt-jarring spanking that rivaled any she had ever gotten from a man. Lately some spankings had felt perfunctory or ritualistic, without the fuel that had powered them before.
Liz came up onto her elbows and shook her hair out. The spanking felt finished but there was something else in the air. “What’s up?” she asked.
“Do you like this?” Nancy asked as she rubbed.
“Yes, very much…”
“Me too”, said Nancy as her hand moved from the thigh up over the curve of her bottom and back again. Liz dropped her head back down onto her crossed arms. Yes, this was nice-she would relax and enjoy the massage. At least she would relax. The silence that fell wasn’t uncomfortable-Liz had grown fond of Nancy over the last couple of months and could be at ease even in circumstances or postures that seemed less than comfortable. But Nancy wasn’t relaxed. As with the spanking, her rubbing seemed distracted or fidgety. Anxious.
“Everything alright?” Liz muffled into her forearm.
The hand stopped moving at the top of Liz’ thigh. Nancy’s voice was high and tentative as if she was trying to suck the words back in as she said them.
“I was just wondering….maybe I want to be on the receiving end.”
“You want me to spank you?”
“No! No-that’s not….but if you wanted to-I’d let you…”
“What were you thinking of then?”
Nancy let her hand slip slowly from the back of Liz’s thigh down between her legs. The younger woman opened a little and thrust gently backward opening the most intimate parts of herself. Nancy had seen everything before in the course of a dozen wriggling bare-bottomed spankings but nothing had been offered like this. She slid her hand up and down the inside of the thigh.
“Touch me…” Liz said softly. “It’s ok.”
Nancy moved her hand up the leg and touched gently and softly. Slowly, tentatively she slipped a finger slightly inside. “My God, you are so wet…”
“That’s your doing…”
“You know,” Nancy said, withdrawing her finger but keeping it down there, “I haven’t had an orgasm in years.”
“At least a year before he left, then the three years he’s been gone…”
“They don’t have vibrators in your part of town?”
Nancy barked a small laugh playfully slapped Liz’s rump.
“You are a naughty little one. No, the thought of that only seemed to draw attention to the fact that I was alone…Then, the last time I had you across my lap I felt something…I let it go…but today, I was at the club and there was a woman in the locker room, she was in a towel-God, listen to me-I couldn’t see anything….but the towel was short. She reminded me of you…and I got this feeling….”
“…That you wanted to come over and beat my ass…” Liz said laughing.
“That I wanted to feel your skin against mine….” Nancy said without laughing.
The words froze the conversation and silence hung in the air like a heavy fog. Nancy had gone all in on this one and she sat almost not breathing with her hand resting on Liz’s bottom.
“Can I get up?” Liz asked.
“Of course”, Nancy said leaning back, her voice husky.
Liz came to her knees and watched her friend look away, thinking no doubt that her getting up was a rejection of an ill-timed, muddled advance. Liz pulled her T-shirt off over her head and gently pulled Nancy’s chin toward her. The woman’s eyes glistened as her face betrayed regret, fear, shame…but overriding everything, desire. Liz leaned into her and kissed her gently on the lips while allowing her right hand to slide between, then up Nancy’s thighs to rest on the silken panties at her crotch. The woman gasped as if her hand were an ice-cube tray.
“We can struggle on the couch like teenagers or you can let me take you into my bed.”
Nancy’s face split into a relieved, but wicked, smile. “Please do…”
The naked woman stood and took the older woman by the hand. They walked together into the darkened bedroom.