The woman was sobbing so that her shoulders were quaking and she had to keep lifting her head from the pillow to gulp air through her mouth. “Poor Angie”, thought Liz, kneading the woman’s shoulders with her left hand trying to work the tension out. She could see the ridges across her back as Angie squeezed the pillow tighter. “I wish you would come back to the studio”, Liz said aloud, a quiet entreaty that brought a new flood of tears.
Liz knew that it wasn’t the spanking that had brought on the tears-she was using a small leather paddle that was just shy of being ornamental. It definitely stung when wielded correctly and Angie’s wide and luscious bottom bore the marks of a rather long-if not particular punishing-session. No, Angie’s eyes had been full while she was disrobing and had begun to overflow when she had first placed herself over her trainer’s lap. Angie still thought of Liz as her “trainer” though it was more of a euphemism these days as she hadn’t been to the gym in months.
Angela Boxter had been one of Liz’s original clients when she opened the studio. She had come in to lose the pounds she had picked up when she stopped smoking. She had worked hard, if a little obsessively, for a month or two before she had approached Liz about the “special” services that she knew were available.
Liz rubbed her left hand across the woman’s back and shoulders feeling the tightness that she could see in the heaves of the sobs. She put the paddle on the side table with the other implements and began to seriously knead Angie’s shoulders working at the tension. When the muscles opened and began to loosen she moved her right hand to the small of the back then down across her pink bottom working the thick muscles by the handful. “Poor Angie” she fairly cooed and she expertly and methodically massaged the woman’s upper thighs. Eventually the sobbing slowed, then quieted and finally snuffled to a ragged end. The catharsis passed, the woman softened and relaxed across Liz’s lap.
Liz didn’t know much about what Angie did for a living. She knew it was something in software with tight deadlines, a lot of travel and good money but that was it. Her schedule eventually pulled Angie out of the studio routine but she wouldn’t give up her trainer’s house calls. They were less frequent lately but still regular.
“Use the hairbrush now”, Angie said.
“Are you sure Hon?” she asked unnecessarily.
“Oh yes-and hard” Angie answered firmly.
This was Angie’s pattern and Liz knew it well. First came the tears and the rush of the emotions that she kept pent-up inside of her day after day, week after week. Once those floodgates opened there was nothing to be done but ride the rapids to the end. Then came the punishment for things that only Angie knew. Whether it was for things she had done, had failed to do or had thought about doing since the last time was her secret and Liz wasn’t in the business of solving those riddles. She was in the relief business-however short lived that relief might be.
Liz took the thick, wooden brush that had never brushed hair off the table and patted her friend’s bottom which rippled slightly. “Now you keep it soft for me. No tensing.” Again a little pat.
“OK”, Angie answered clearly.
Liz lifted the paddle to shoulder height and brought it down with a loud “SWAT!” on the right cheek. Angie groaned then barked loudly as the second smack landed in the same place. “OWWWW!” came her cry after the third, then a sharp “OUCH” after the fourth. Her cries now were dry reactions to pain, not teary responses to deserved punishment. Angie always cried on emotions, not so much on pain. She yearned for these paddlings almost as athletic events, to give her a different release-the kind that she no longer got from the pain at the gym. Liz was well equipped to give her what she wanted.
She reached around Angie’s waist and pulled her close-effectively holding her in place. “I’m really going to beat your ass now girl!” she said harshly.
“Go ahead-it’s all yours”, said Angie before biting down on the pillow.
From below, Angie felt deliciously trapped as the grip around her waist tightened. Ducking her head lower she raised her bottom to meet the brush which wasn’t long in coming. She growled deeply in her chest as searing swat after searing swat rained fire on her cheeks. She released the pillow from her mouth turning her head aside to swallow air while raising her hips higher still to welcome the sweet blistering barrage. She kicked her feet against the cushions and smacked the side of the couch with her open hand.
Liz watched her friend carefully between every swat. As instructed, Angie kept her bottom soft so that it danced with every blow, waves washing away from each impact. The curve of her back spread her cheeks revealing her asshole and sex clearly and openly to Liz’s watchful eyes. And Liz watched intently for signals from a woman who would never say “Stop” and “Enough” wasn’t in her vocabulary. When Angie allowed her bottom to be beaten down like dough to a baker’s fists-when she flatted herself across Liz’s lap and tensed her cheeks against the paddle-it was over.
Then suddenly it was. After a last hard swat Angie raised herself on her toes thrusting upward with a dry yelp then crashed down flat. She squeezed her bottom tightly-the gaping crevasse between the burning hemispheres reduced to a thin shoestring. Liz lay the paddle down on the table and patted Angie’s bum. “Wow”, she said admiringly. The ample cheeks were darkly mottled in reds pinks and purples.
“Wow indeed”, said Angie breathlessly. Then after a pause, “Can I get up?”
“Oh sure…” Liz released her grip and leaned back.
Angie dropped one foot to the floor and awkwardly pushed herself up. She stood stiffly and padded around the room on tiptoes reaching back to rub her tortured bottom. “Ouch-ouch-ouch”, she chirped. “Damn, girl-you killed me…”
Angie was looking over her shoulder at her bum in the mirror on the back of the door. The woman had no modesty whatsoever, her round belly poking out slightly above the dark black bush between her legs.
“That is a red that wants to be purple”, said Liz.
“Looks like cranberry relish”, Angie agreed.
Liz giggled at the thought and sat back watching Angie move around the room. She had gotten used to her friend’s nudity-she had insisted on it during their first session. “Would you mind?” Angie asked having taken a small bottle of salve off the dresser.
“No, of course”, Liz leaned forward and beckoned with her hand. Angie stood sideways and bent slightly as Liz squeezed a little of the cooling unguent into her palm. She rubbed it gently on the full cheeks-circling both carefully making sure not to miss a spot. “That is some heat”, said Liz.
“Mmmm-hmmm” hummed Angie. “You did a job alright.”
Angie straightened languidly and turned to face Liz. She stepped closer, pushing herself between her clothed knees. Liz looked up toward Angie’s face and smiled that her view was partially eclipsed by the smaller woman’s larger breasts leaning down seemingly drawn to her. From this close Liz could feel the heat coming off of her friend’s body. Surprising herself, she placed her head against Angie’s belly and with a hot cheek in either hand pulled her closer. “Keep rubbing” whispered Angie, and Liz did, closing her eyes and letting her head swim as the smell of Angie’s sex mingled with the lotion.
Liz knew what Angie did after a paddling session like this. She did it alone, in her room, with her music and her vibrator. She had jokingly (maybe not really joking) teased after Liz before that she should come to her room with her. That is all it had ever been; locker room banter, playful teasing. This time, with Angie stroking Liz’ hair and Liz lightly squeezing Angie’s bottom, it had escalated beyond the kidding stage. Angie leaned closer with a soft buzz between her legs, feeling Liz’s breath hot against her belly. It came so close to happening that Angie actually thought it would.
Then, with a sigh, the spell-if that’s what it could be called-was broken. Liz pulled back patting Angie’s behind. “Poor Liz”, said Angie gazing down into her clouded eyes.
“Poor nothing…let’s seize the day”, said Liz standing. She gently took Angie’s head in her hands and kissed her chastely on the cheek. “Come back to the studio would you? Please? I could use you around.”
“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see…”
“What’s the rest of your day like?” Liz asked breezily, gathering her implements along with the envelope that Angie had left for her.
“I have a con-call in an hour that I’ll have to do standing up, thank-you-very-much. And of course I need my alone time right now to….” She nodded toward the bedroom. Liz put her hand up in an “OK, I get it” motion. “Of course”, Angie teased, “It doesn’t have to be ‘alone’ time. If you want…”
“You are such a brat! If there was still a white spot on your butt I’d spank you again!”
“Oh shit!” said Angie. “What are you doing now?”
“Now? I’m off this afternoon. Have my boots in the car. I was going to go hike Blade Mountain. Get my fresh air fix pushing up the back side of the far hill.”
“Oh, I hate to ask…..but would you mind taking Chloe with you?”
Chloe was Angie’s Irish Setter that she always kept in the garage during their sessions. She was a young dog that needed more running than Angie’s schedule would allow and this wouldn’t be the first time that Liz had run her.
“Sure-I need a puppy fix.”
“That’s not all you need”, said Angie, eyes dancing as she disappeared into the bedroom leaving Angie a final glimpse of her lusciously glowing backside.