The Warm Afterwards

I need a good....

From Tumblr…origin unknown

Continued from “What’s the Matter with Me?”

She passed her Mom’s room at the top of the stairs, then Bobby’s; she was at the end of the L-shaped hall. Before turning the knob she dropped to her knees and looked through the keyhole. The end of the bed was perfectly framed. She smiled and shook her head. “And I was worried about him hearing”, she mumbled to herself.

Inside, she sat on the edge of the bed and let her eyes wander over the shelves of her stuff. That’s how she thought of it: “her stuff”. Sure, it was all middle school and high-school, but everything surrounding her commemorated a step of accomplishment in a young promising life. There were cheerleading trophies, softball trophies, student of the month certificates imperfectly framed and hanging on the wall. Her eyes burned as she thought of the bare walls and empty shelves back at her apartment. But it wasn’t like she accomplished much after leaving here.

This wasn’t helping, she thought. Her meditation sessions in this room typically rejuvenated her. She would usually leave here emboldened-with a little of the brash girl she once was awakened. Today she just felt…shitty. She lay back on the bed and allowed the tears to come-gently, sadly, without a whimper or a sob. Just quiet tears of sadness and…loneliness? Yes, that was it-loneliness. She had never felt lonely here-in this house-the reverse actually. Even though there were only three of them growing up Barbara had felt surrounded-which she of course pushed against at all turns. Today she realized she also felt protected back then.

And she knew that it was her mother than made her feel that way. All the lectures she used to hear-all the scolding-happened right here. And the spankings too. But there was a method to her Mom’s madness that maybe she didn’t realize. Slowly-in tiny flashes-a thought sparkled across her gray spirit. Not well-formed, just something to occupy her mind for a moment. She lay there and let her breathing take over as these random thoughts congealed into an idea she could grasp. Once she grasped it, she saw it-she remembered-and remembering made it real. The tears stopped, replaced by a strangely warm feeling. She rolled onto her belly.

She reached back and cupped her denim-encased backside. She heard her mother’s voice deep in her memory-“You push those pants down right now…” Her heart flipped a little as she reached under herself and pulled at her belt. “All the way down, young lady”, she heard in her mind’s ear. She relived a little of the fear she had felt-the embarrassment. She lifted a little, unsnapped her belt then stopped. Then what? she wondered. Then what?

What was she missing? Not the pain of the brush-that couldn’t be it. Could it? And not the aftercare-there was none of that-just a slamming of the door and the orders to “stay in here till you’re done crying.” No…it was later. Maybe that evening, if the spanking had happened early enough. Maybe the next day. Her mom would plop down next to her on the couch-or across from her at the table and chat. Ask her about her day-about school…And Barbara would talk-she had no problem opening up or…it was like they were almost sisters in the glow of afterwards. A screen had been torn down-a sheet dissolved.

She folded her hands under her cheek and breathed. That’s what she was missing. The afterglow…the warm afterwards….She had felt a little of that today downstairs laughing with Bobby about her spankings. And that was from talking about them! It was amazing the memories and feelings that lived in her old room.

She lay there and let her mind wander-let it race. Her vision skipped years, blew past her short-circuited marriage, her miserable relationships before and since, all the way back to when she was seventeen lying on the bed waiting for her mother to come through the door. Christ this was confusing! She groaned and rolled back over. She knew what she had to try. She got up with a purpose and strode down the hallway to her mother’s room. Would he do it?

Her mother’s door opened with a creak and she stepped inside. Barbara’s own room appeared untouched because no one lived there. Her mom’s room looked untouched because Eileen had a place for everything and everything was in its place. It looked the same as it always had and it smelled of the same Estee Lauder perfume no matter how long the room had been empty.

The hairbrush was where she knew it would be. On the dresser, centered, in front of the jewelry box. Barbara picked it up gently, as if retrieving a relic, and rubbed her hand over the smooth wood. She caught herself in the mirror and was suddenly, inexplicably to her, comfortable with what she saw.

She turned around and looked over her shoulder at her bottom. With the brush in her right hand she patted her cheek firmly, but not hard enough to be heard downstairs. Even so, there was a rush of excitement at the sting she felt. This was going to hurt! She caught her eye in the mirror again. There was a determined look reflecting back-she was going to do it. Without a further thought she was off-out of the room and down the steps.

“Hey Bobby”, she called. “You have a second?”

She had his full attention as soon as she stepped into the room carrying the hairbrush. For a split second he wasn’t sure who it was meant for, but one look at her face crystallized her intent for him. He sat and listened to her plan.

“So you’re thinking you miss the spankings?”

“I don’t think I miss them. Not the spankings as they happened. I’m not sure I miss anything real.  I mean it could be that what I miss is the fantasy that I indulged in. I like to remember this it gave me a feeling of boundaries. That I could only go so far then something would happen to pull me back. Those boundaries kept me from veering too far off course.”

“They didn’t though, did they?”

“No-they just gave me something else to rebel against. But now, I’m looking for boundaries I guess. I can’t go back to high school. I can’t get Mr. Sadler’s detention. I can’t get busted for smoking in the lav. There are no rules for adults!”

“This from a woman who got busted not three hours ago.”

“I know, right? Isn’t that crazy? That’s why I was crying when I got here. I did this stupid-shit thing and nobody would care about it. Nobody would know about it! Nobody would care and I could just continue to fuck my life up on my own-thank you very much. “

“Somebody’s always going to care, you know”, he said with real tenderness.

She stopped and swallowed hard. “Again, I know. I find that out. I come in the house, my little brother makes one call and I’m free and off the hook. And now I just think I have to get spanked for being bad. For going over the line.”

“You have to…”

“I have to….”

He regarded her silently and looked at the hairbrush.

“I need to….” She said quietly.

He was quiet and actually tugged at his bottom lip.

“So yes, then?” He avoided eye contact probably realizing that if he looked at her, he would give her whatever she wanted. And that was what he was going to do. “You’ll do it?” she asked again, a little pleading in her question.

“Ok, Babsy. Sure. Whatever.” She was too happy with his affirmative answer to really note his seeming lack of enthusiasm in the whole endeavor. She handed him the hairbrush and undid her belt.

“Wait. Hold it! Are you taking your pants down?”

“When’s the last time I got spanked in this house that it wasn’t on the bare?”

“Jesus! Barb….”

“What’s the matter? You can fantasize about it for years-play it out in your head-but not man enough to do it for real?”

“I don’t fantasize about doing it….I do it…I mean, not with you…” She flustered him. He was looking at two people at that moment. Here was his big sister, daring him to do something. Egging him on through his reluctance. But beyond that, he saw his big sister asking him, pleading with him, for something only he could give her.

“What do you mean, you do it?”

“I spank girls…women…women I date…” he stammered. “It’s something I do. Girls have broken up with me over it. And I’ve broken up with them because they wouldn’t. But with them there is a…”

He looked away and stammered to silence as she pushed her pants and underwear down revealing a thick thatch of jet black hair blooming above her open fly. She reached over him and lowered herself carefully across his lap. “I get that”, she said settling in. “If it makes you feel any better, you won’t be the first person to spank me since Mom, so don’t worry about it. “

“That might be too much information” he said, trusting himself to look down at her bottom revealed less than completely by her hurriedly lowered jeans. “Look when Mom was doing it, there was a reason I guess. To punish you…to keep you in line…I don’t know. And when we do it with other people there’s a …sexual thing about it. It’s about that…But why are we doing it?”

“Because I want it.”

She pulled a throw pillow toward close and hugged it. “Because right now I might need it more than I need anything.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re sweet but getting hurt like this is exactly what I want.”

“Hey, is this cutting you?” He pulled at her belt and bunched jeans which were digging into a deep band across her hips.

“Kinda”, she wriggled.

“Here, lift”. She did and he gently tugged her pants and underwear further down her thighs.

“Better.” She relaxed back into position and hugged the pillow more closely closing her eyes. They sat together in a warm silence that was not uncomfortable. That was not tense. That was relaxed to the point that neither of them really realized they had gone quiet. Bobby, his left hand gently rubbing his sister’s shoulder and his right chastely resting on the back of her leg. She, eyes closed in the pillow.

Bobby relaxed for the first time since Barb came down the steps. He had spoken the truth-all of the spankings he did with woman were sexual. It was all part of foreplay and all of them-well, the ones that didn’t lead to a woman leaving huffily-led to sex. This was his sister and he happily didn’t feel the same crotch tightening thickness with her as he did with other women held in this position. Not even the same excitement that rose in him at the memory of the vision through the keyhole.

“Does it live up to your memory?” She asked back over her shoulder. “Is it all that you remembered?”

“What, the ass that ruined me for all other asses?”

She pinched his ankle.

Her bottom of course was magnificent. The vision and the memory had been sweet; a young girl’s pert, lean bum. This was different though-this was a woman-and that bum had fully bloomed into a voluptuous ass with a deep crease splitting two fulsome milky white cheeks.

“There it is” he said.

“What?” she tried to look back but her hair cascaded over her face. She felt him poking gently on her right cheek.

“That freckle. Still there. Funny what a boy’s mind will focus on but after I saw it that day through the keyhole, every time you walked past and I copped a look at your butt, I would think of this little freckle. Like it was a little secret we had just between us.”

“I wish…”

“No, I mean back then.”

“So do I”, she said.

He slapped her on the cheek and she yelped, surprised. “So bad”, he said.

He watched his handprint develop and darken, mottling her creamy skin. She felt the warmth spread across her cheek.

“I guess we should get on with it…” she said.

“Yeah”, he said but not moving to pick up the brush.

“This is going to hurt you know…”

“All I need right now is for you to hurt me like this…You’re good with that, right?”

“Are you going to cry?”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to help that” she said as his hand continued to rub her back.

“Go on Bobby. Do it. I trust you…”

She exhaled slowly to bring her heart rate down and stared through lidded eyes at the living room that she knew so well-seen now from a new perspective. His hand stopped rubbing and settled on the small of her back. The other hand disappeared and was presumably picking up the brush. She neither twitched nor clenched, but closed her eyes. Bobby lifted the brush and brought it down, snapping his wrist as if he was throwing a ball.

“OW!” she yelped feeling a burn unlike anything she’d felt in years.

“If you say STOP, I’ll stop.” He said. “Anything other than that, I’ll spank till you’re done.”

“K”, was all she could manage before the next swats landed full on her bottom-SPLAT on one cheek, then the other, then back again. She held her tongue through four then began to cry between yelps. She cried, she yelled, “OUCH! OW!” “It hurts Bobby…Ouch, ouch OW”. She said a lot, but managed to avoid the word “stop.” He felt her thrashing then settling. When she stopped moving but for the jumps and jolts with every swat, he put the hairbrush aside and slapped her fully with his hand. “Oww!” she said surprised. He like the feel of the hand against her bottom-the warm connection and the jarring contact that resonated all the way to his shoulder. After a few smacks at the top of her legs and a few more at the bottom of her bottom where the smacking sound echoed through her chasms he slowed.

One more whack and he was finished. He kept his right hand cupping her bright pink right cheek. It radiated heat. Her tears slowed and the loud sobs were over. But she was in no hurry to get up and he was not pushing her.

“I bet Mom never spanked you like that…” he said finally.

“No she didn’t. That was a grown-up spanking….hand me a Kleenex would you.”

He pulled a couple out of the box on the table and handed them to her. She dabbed at her tears and wiped her nose.

“What would you think if I moved back in here?” she asked.

“Mom and I were wondering why you were living alone in that crappy apartment.”

She wriggled a bit pulling the pillow tighter to her face.

“You know me, I want to be an independent woman” she said with all the sarcasm she could muster.

“It’s easier to be independent when someone has your back”, he told her, rubbing her back again.

“Or your back-side?”

“Yeah…that too.”

“I gotta get up” she said after a few more moments. He averted his eyes so he wouldn’t see anything she didn’t want him to see as she got up but she was less concerned about that than he was. She stood and kneaded at the small of her back, her glowing bottom on display, her pants and underwear still at her knees.

He poked at her butt one more time. “You can put that thing away now…”

She laughed and sniffled as she rolled up her underwear then pulled up her pants. “Don’t go shy on me now, kiddo. I might need your services again when I move back.”

“Not if you behave”, he said jokingly.

She turned and bent to kiss him on the cheek. “What are the chances of that, do you think?”

He caught the warmth in her eyes and complete comfort in her smile.

“Whatever you need Babsy. Whatever you need.”

(If you liked this, try Angie’s Workout…)

Advertisements

3 responses to “The Warm Afterwards

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s