Femdom Spanking Tales E-Book

Lizbeth Dusseau

• Herausgeber: pinkflamingo
• Kategorie: Erotik
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2005

Beschreibung

Now in one collection, Lizbeth's Femdom Spanking short stories from her two collections. PLUS and added bonus... Ms. Shelby's Boy a never been published story Keeping Him In His Place In the title story Galen has trouble keeping her caretaker at his job. Seems only a good spanking is the answer. Once he experiences her wicked belt, Adrian changes his ways; though he keeps coming back for more. Baited By His Memories, Kyle remembers the spankings he had as a kid and makes sure his Boss, Leslie, finally treats him to a taste of leather with hot results! Then, The Reluctant Submissive, Derrick, meets Alexandra, only to find that she has a ready cure for his reluctance, taking him over her knee. When the delectable Southern belle, Sally Hatcher, interests the town newcomer in a wager, Sally wins; and poor Billy finds himself over Miss Sally’s lap to experience her Sweet Summer Fling. Once The Hellion meets Alexandra, the bratty young man gets cured of his nasty mouth and bad behavior. And finally, an ontherise young executive, Tony, Proves Himself Worthy to the reputed female dominant, Juliet, as he gets a taste of submission from this very exotic and commanding woman. My Devoted Submissive In this collection’s initial story, Alexandra tells of meeting the stunningly submissive man who eventually becomes her devoted husband. Not only can Douglas take a good stern punishment, he loves the erotic aftermath as well. Then in the sequel, Dominant In Training, Alexandra teaches her friend, Kathleen, how to keep a naughty husband in line with creative methods she personally demonstrates for Kathleen and Andrew using her Douglas as an example. Then it’s back to boarding school, in Miss Click, Proving Herself, the new teacher proves she has what it takes to keep a classroom of unruly young men in line, using her trusty wooden paddle. Beach Buns, and Cold Night & Hot Bottoms go from the beach to the ski slopes as naughty men get their just desserts from their dominant ladies.

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

Title Page

Two Short Story CollectionsMy Devoted Submissive

&

Keeping Him In His Place

Plus…a Bonus Story: Ms Shelby’s Boy

by

Lizbeth Dusseau

A Pink Flamingo Ebook Publication

Copyright © 2011, All rights reserved

With the exception of quotes used in reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, by any means, including mechanical, electronic, photocopying recording or otherwise without prior written permission of the publishers.

For information contact:

Pink Flamingo Publications

www.pinkflamingo.com

P.O. Box 632  Richland, MI 49083

USA

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My Devoted Submissive

Table Of Contents

My Devoted Submissive

Dominant In Training

Miss Click—Proving Herself

Beach Buns

Cold Nights & Hot Bottoms

My Devoted Submissive

When I received Douglas’s letter, I was immediately interested in his proposal, though it was something I hadn’t had before: a direct inquiry from a submissive male. Douglas told me in his letter that he got my name from a friend. His intention was for me to paddle him soundly on his bare ass. He didn’t say why he needed such treatment, except that he’d been yearning for a zealous punishment for some time.

       “. . . if there is anything I can do to please you, to sway your decision, please let me know. Knowing that you provide such a service as you do, gives me hope that this quirk in my personality can somehow be satisfied . .”

       I could tell right away that the poor boy had a strong need beyond just simple punishment. I’d met such men before.

       Over the last several years, I’ve become accustomed to “doing favors” for business acquaintances who have unruly young gentlemen in their employ. I’ve been engaged for numerous rousing sessions with naughty boys, by employers not having the authoritarian sensibilities that are so natural to me. They find that I’m vigorous and thorough, applying necessary discipline on recalcitrant male bottoms, and have discovered that a good session with me has positive effects on their worker’s future performance. 

       These interesting arrangements serve me well, for I cannot deny that administering a hair brush or strap to a fine youthful set of male cheeks and seeing them turn bright crimson gives me an extraordinary feeling of satisfaction.

       But in reference to Douglas, I’ve found that there are two types of men I’ve had the good fortune to discipline. There are those that come to me, usually once. Their errors are quickly fixed by one session; having no intention of repeating the process, they quickly mend their ways or quit their job. Most of the men I discipline are of this kind. But there are those others, like Douglas, that seek discipline and punishment as a way of life, an aspect of their psyche that affects them deeply, usually in ways they don’t even understand. With my assistance, they find a degree of satisfaction in their lives that they wouldn’t have without my exacting treatment.

       I recall the first such young man to suggest to me this deeper need. Jeff was a new employee of my dear friend Caroline. She was terribly dissatisfied with his work despite his qualifications.

       “Do something with him Alexandra!” she directed me. She was totally exasperated with her attempts to move the young man in the right direction. “Perhaps with your guidance he’ll come around. I certainly hope so, or I’ll have no choice but to fire him.”

       I told her I’d be happy to accommodate her. It had been some time since I’d had the pleasure of a bottom poised and ready for my paddle, and I was enjoying the warm surge of sensation accompanying the thought.

       When Jeff arrived at my office that afternoon, he was trembling terribly, but surprisingly submissive to the punishment he was about to receive. With most men there’s usually some brief battle when they challenge me; though having their jobs on the line, they quickly change their tune. With Jeff, however, there was no fight at all, almost as if he was looking forward to the paddling.

       “Has Caroline told you what’s going to happen?” I asked him.

       “Yes, Ma’am.”

       “Good,” I said, appraising him carefully. He was so anxious I almost felt sorry for him—wiping his damp palms against his trousers, beads of sweat on his brow.       

       I pulled my paddle from the bottom drawer of my desk and let him see it. He trembled even more as he stared at the menacing instrument. I’d had it specially made for sessions like this; much like the backside of an oval shaped hairbrush, it was smooth, sleek and black.

       “Have you been spanked recently?” I asked him.

       “No, ma’am.”

       “Were you as a child?”

       “Yes, ma’am.”

       I appreciated his naturally polite demeanor.

       “Then you can think of this in much the same way as your parents’ discipline. Caroline only wants what is best for you, of course that being what’s best for her company. From what I gather, your untimely mistakes have cost her dearly in the past few weeks. I hope this puts you on the right track.”          

       “Yes, ma’am,” he replied.

       “Remove your trousers,” I ordered him. (It’s a most tantalizing feeling giving them that order; it takes the punishment from the imagination to real life, and demonstrates my control over these poor souls.)

       Jeff’s blush was nearly instantaneous; and he should blush, considering what I was about to do to him.

       I watched him hesitate. His hands shook, though he finally found his way to his belt buckle, undoing the clasp. He couldn’t look at me for his embarrassment.

       “You’re taking too much time, Jeffrey, the more you hesitate the longer I will use this paddle on your bottom.”

       After that, he wasted no time in dropping his pants to the floor and stepping out of them. In just his shirt and underwear he looked all the more submissive.

       “Come here,” I ordered and he was quick to stand in front of me as I assumed my place in the straight back chair I always use for such occasions. I briskly pulled the boy over my knee and noted the lovely roundness of his tight ass cheeks as I gazed at them through the fabric of his briefs. With a finger under the elastic, I slowly pulled them down, hearing Jeff gasp as I did.

       As was normal, his manhood was rising, though I ignored that. At the moment, I preferred to consider the delicious sight of his creamy white buns . . . so round, so fresh, inviting the paddle to bring out a rosy blush. I could see how nervous Jeff was; his poor rear cheeks were clenched so tightly.

       Raising my arm, I let the paddle fly with a resounding whack against his left ass cheek.

       “Yeow!”

       The blow wasn’t hard, I’m sure his response was shock more than pain.

       The second blow landed on his right cheek, but without the accompanying cry. I then began leveling the instrument across his bottom in steady rhythmic whacks, though these first were not intended to be too biting. I’d save the most severe for later. I planned a long paddling, letting him get used to the treatment a little at a time.

       “Yeow, ow ouch!” He began to cry out again.

       After my initial round of whacks, I began another, increasing the intensity just a little, covering every inch of his delightful bouncing rear.         

       “Ouch ow, please!” he wailed. As the blows became more severe, so was the sting, and so was Jeff’s obvious distress. “Ouch, ow, oh gawd no!”

       “Hush! You’re going to take every bit I have to give; if you think I’m stopping now, you’re in for a rude awakening.” And for good measure, I decided to give the center of his cheeks a special treatment, directing at least a half dozen whacks on each, one whack right on top of the last, so that those two fiery spots would burn like hell!

       “Oh, my gawd, no! No, ow, please,” he shrieked, squirming wildly on my lap.

       “Be still!” I ordered and I smacked him hard.

       “Ow, ouch, please, Alexandra.”

       “Ah! You can take a good deal more than this young man. You’ll have a lesson you’ll not forget, do you understand?”

       “Yes, ma’am.”

       As I continued, I was determined that he got the message. The crimson on his bottom was fast turning a deep shade of purple, and his cries were becoming more distressed. I paused only to let him get ready for the next.

       “Oh ma’am please, please stop,” he pleaded.

       “When I say it’s enough, then it’s enough. Do you understand me?”

       “Yes, ma’am,” he replied pitifully. “Ouch, ooo gawd!”

       As the paddling continued, I realized there was a discernible difference in the tone of his cries from the first ones. Rather than wails of horrible distress, he was beginning to moan as if there was something unexpected taking place.

       “Oh, ah, ah, augh,” the deep sounds from him, seemed almost musical. And with this change in tone, I was soon aware that his manhood was rising even more than when he’d first laid down across my knees. I leveled another round of strokes to find that this change continued. His jerking, jiggling changed too, as his bright red fanny was moving erotically, there was no other way to describe it.

       “Have you learned your lesson, Jeffrey?” I finally asked, not sure I wanted him sexually aroused. After all, this was a punishment!

       “Yes, ma’am, oh yes, ma’am, I have.” There was such a sweet softness in his voice.

       “Then we’re done,” I said, with two last emphatic swats. I let Jeff recuperate for a moment, not pushing him from my lap too quickly. I took the time to relish the sight of his punished bottom; I would have loved to caress it, it was so appealing.

       “You can get up now,” I said at last. And as he rose, I returned to my desk waiting for him. Once he’d dressed, he stood before me.

       “So, have you learned something today?”

       “Oh yes, ma’am,” he said. “Thank you. Really. Thank you. I . . . I really needed that.” He stumbled over his words, but they were sincere. Never had one of my charges been so honest to admit his need.        

Jeffrey saw me many times on a regular basis. It seemed that he would find some small thing to upset Caroline enough that she would send him my way for another session over my lap. It became clear to both Caroline and I that Jeff was more content when he regularly faced my paddle. I came to recognize that after each encounter, the young man was truly grateful for the stern discipline, his face would brighten. His attitude was more peaceful. And . . . he was always delightfully aroused, a state I assumed he took care of in his own way. Spanking satisfied him, and I was only too glad to accommodate his need.

Which brings me back to Douglas.

       I had a feeling, from Douglas’s letter, that he might be just like Jeff; and curious about his proposal, I called him to see how serious he was about his desires.

       “Tell me what it is you need, and don’t be vague. I don’t have time to waste,” I told him after I’d introduced myself.

       “Well, ma’am, I’m looking for a female to serve, a dominant woman that will give me the discipline I need.”

       “How interesting,” I commented. My mind was racing with a dozen fascinating thoughts. Having a good submissive man at my beck and call could give me even more satisfaction than I was already getting from my sessions with Caroline’s naughty boys. This new dimension to my own dominant urges was certainly appealing, and Douglas’s proposal in particular sounded very tempting.

       I agreed to have him come to my home for our first meeting, to see how compatible we would be. And fortunately, once he arrived, it took little time to figure that the arrangement he had in mind would likely work for both of us.

       Douglas was not much younger than I was, and to my surprise and delight he was not anything like the young “pups” I’d been spanking for Caroline. A mature business executive, with a pleasing smile, he seemed to know without any reservations what it was he was looking for. I’m not sure who was more pleased with the initial first impression.

       Though he was older than the men I was accustomed to, he did share those younger men’s “naughty” inclinations. And standing before me as I lounged on my divan, I made him tell me everything he wanted.

       “You can have no secrets from me if I’m to assume control of your behavior, is that understood.”

       “Yes, Alexandra,” he answered. 

       “Then tell me, what naughty thoughts or deeds have you feeling so dreadfully guilty?”

       “My thoughts of you, Alexandra,” he answered timidly.

       “Of me?” I feigned surprise.

       “I don’t just want to have you spank me just because I’m bad . . . it also makes my dick hard, to think of being taken over your lap and spanked.”

       “Is that so?” I replied. “Well, you are a nasty boy.” I watched him blush like a child. “Perhaps once I’ve paddled you, you’ll have a different point of view.”

       “That’s what I was hoping.”

       I was experienced enough to know that the paddling would only turn him on even more, but then wasn’t that the point. Though I couldn’t wait to get on with the punishment, I decided to play the scenario to the hilt. He’d either regret this day, or find it the most gratifying one he’d ever had.

       “If I provide you with this need of yours, you will have to serve me as I please,” I informed him.

       “Oh yes, Alexandra, that’s exactly what I want.”

       “You’ll find me demanding.”

       “Yes, ma’am.”

       “I expect complete compliance.”

       “I understand.”

       Everything about his demeanor indicated that he was more than willing.

       “Well then, let’s see, how shall we begin . . .” I mused aloud, considering the many ways I could handle him.

       “I was hoping over your knee,” he promptly suggested.

       “Did I ask your opinion?” I shot back.

       “No, ma’am.”

       “Then don’t offer it,” I rebuked him sternly.

       “I’m sorry.”

       “I’m afraid you’ll have to earn a punishment over my knee, a good strapping over the back of my couch is all you’ll have today, if you get anything at all.”

       “Anything would please me.”

       “Then get on with it, present your naked bottom to me, over the couch. Now!”

       I watched him hastily remove his pants, and bend over the back of my plush green sofa. I enjoyed looking at the lovely white of his bottom as it appeared against the dark green. It would soon be a marvelous red, but not so quickly . . . Douglas was too eager, he needed to wait a bit.

       “Don’t move,” I instructed him. “You stay here until I return, and think about your nasty thoughts and desires, and why this punishment is so necessary.”

       “Yes, ma’am,” he answered.

       I walked out of the room and let his pretty buns hang in the air for a good half-hour. When I returned, I appraised his firm round cheeks for some time, thinking how they’d look burning bright red. Douglas would soon be squirming and howling like crazy. It certainly would be delightful to have him around on a regular basis . . . for lots of reasons!

       In my hand, I held a strap, a two-foot long, two-inch wide, oiled leather. I flicked it in the air so he could hear the ominous swish.

       “You have a naughty, naughty mind Douglas, we’ll see if that changes with this.”

       I raised my arm and the leather cut through the air landing squarely across my submissive’s fine smooth flesh. He jerked, but like most men, he attempted to remain in control, letting out only a low grunt.

       Smack! The leather landed over the same spot.

       He grunted again.

       Another smack smack smack, I made sure each vigorous cut landed exactly on top of the last for maximum effect. Finally, after at least a dozen, my brave boy let out a ferocious yell.

       “Oh, gawd, please!”

       “Ah, so we’re not so stoic after all,” I observed. I leveled another two well-placed smacks.

       “Yeow!” he cried again.

       The pain was no doubt excruciating, though I noticed even as he was finally moved to scream that his dick was swelling nicely.

       “You are a nasty boy.”     

       “Oh gawd!” he cried with the smack that followed.

       This time the blows landed above and below the others, giving his entire backside a nice red blush.

       “Yeow, ow, please!”

       I had landed a few deliberately at the top of his thighs, and they must have hurt like hell.

       “You won’t forget this day Douglas, never!” I vowed.

       “Ouch! Miss Alexandra, please!” he begged.

       As I began my next set, I started at his thighs, at the base of his round cheeks, the fleshiest part of his bottom, slowly deliberately making each cut a little higher than the last, until I was at the top of his ass end.

       I didn’t bother to listen to his pleas, I knew he could take a good deal more. I did pause for a moment, just to let him recoup enough so he could endure what followed. 

       “I do think it’s going to take another weighty session tonight to complete your punishment.” It was an unexpected idea but it seemed perfectly fitting for both our needs. 

       “Yes, Alexandra.” He was moaning, half in pain and half in pleasure.    

       “We’ll stop for now. And then, you’ll have another round before I’m finished with you tonight.”

       I laid the strap down next to him, across the back of the couch, and moved back to my place on my divan, reclining against the soft pillows, the paddling was positively exhausting. Douglas remained in his submissive pose until I spoke again. “Come here,” I purred.

       The poor man was now so meek and well punished, so thoroughly subdued that he was quickly on his knees at my side, such soft sweet eyes he had. We looked at each other for some moments without speaking. There was an instantaneous moment when something clicked between us. It seemed as if we had both found something special in what had just taken place. And as if that was not pleasure enough, it appeared we were quickly heading for some new very pleasing territory.

       “May I massage you, Alexandra?” Douglas asked humbly.

       “You may,” I replied. My fired loins were only too happy for some earnest attention.

       I stroked his hair as his hands began to caress my thighs, moving with great care under the hem of my skirt.

       “Ah! That’s perfect,” I murmured, as the pleasure was quickly mounting. “You’re going to make a fine submissive.”

       “I hope so,” he replied, as he continued to stroke the bare skin above my stockings.

       “You take care of my needs, perhaps you’ll get to take care of yours too,” I suggested with meaningful gleam.

       “I’d like that very much,” he answered eagerly. As his hands made their way deeper up my skirt, I lay my head back, relishing his ardent attentions. And when his mouth descended to the sopping crescent of my sex, I let out an impassioned gasp. It was all the encouragement he needed to proceed. Pulling away my panties, the strokes of his tongue were as dear to me as the strokes of my strap against his rear were dear to him. 

       A tendersweet surge of orgasm claimed me and I realized that I’d indeed found a most enchanting satisfaction of my own, being serviced by my devoted submissive. As I recovered from my pleasure, I looked down to see him smiling broadly as I smiled back at him. It seemed he knew my needs as well as I knew his.

       “Would you like me to cook your dinner this evening?” he asked.

       “Before I punish you again? Of course,” I answered sternly, though there was a distinct lightness in my voice that Douglas could not help but hear.

       He flashed me a delicious grin.

       By then, I had little doubt that he and I were destined for a long, fulfilling relationship.

Dominant In Training

Smack! My wicked wooden paddle came down across his burning buns with another furiously resounding thwack!

       “Yeow!” he cried out.

       He always tried holding back, his manliness not wanting to give into the pain. But he gave in at last, and this time it didn’t take long. I started out with very vigorous swats, without any warm-ups and I continued from there. I was furious with my dear Douglas.

       Smack!

       “I’m sorry, please,” he finally cried.

       “I’m sure you are.” I’d rushed home to see him. My darling submissive had been on a business trip for two weeks and I must admit I missed him terribly, and looked forward to his coming home. When he wasn’t there as he had told me he would be, I was livid to say the least. At least he could have called, that would have reduced my anxiety, if not his punishment. I fumed for two hours until he finally walked in the door. Showing no mercy, he was over my lap as quickly as I could get him there.

Finally finished with his punishment, I pushed Douglas brusquely to the floor. Then again maybe I wasn’t finished with him, I wondered, as I looked at him trying to recoup from the shocking homecoming. Punishing him was so satisfying, his rear cheeks were a lustrous red, just the way I like them best.

       “My plane was detained,” he explained, when he caught his breath enough to speak.

       “I suppose so, but you have no idea how angry I was coming home to the house without you being here. Especially when I was thinking about it all day. I expected you to have it all warm and cozy just like you told me last night on the phone.” I continued to scold him, wanting him to suffer for his slight. “You didn’t even call me.”

       “I know it doesn’t matter to you, Alexandra,” Douglas said, “but we were caught on the runway, there was no way I could call.”

       I eyed him sternly, but my resolve was beginning to crumble. “Well, come here,” I purred. My horniness was catching up with me, two weeks without his divine attentions, and all I could think of was him servicing my cunt for the next eight hours straight to make up for it.

       Douglas scrambled to me. I’m sure he was as horny as I was, even though he knew he’d have to satisfy me first. He quickly buried his face between my legs letting his glorious tongue play with all my favorite places.

       “Ah yes, ah,” I moaned, a delicious feeling of satisfaction took over. I bucked against him as my body soared. I probably squeezed his head too tightly with my throbbing thighs, but I didn’t care. I was greedily lost in my selfish, self-seeking moment.

       “Ooooo Douglas, you are good!” I praised him, when I finally came down to earth.

       “Forgive me?” he asked.

       “Let’s see your bottom,” I replied.

       The red was fading, but his skin was still warm from the paddling. I massaged it affectionately and he groaned. “Oh yes, thank you, Alexandra,” he cried, grasping his cock, he would be off in seconds.

Once Douglas had cleaned us both, we padded like lovebirds into the kitchen to scare up a meal.

       “Did I tell you Doug, we’re entertaining Kathleen and Andrew tomorrow night?”

       “Really?” he looked at me curiously.

       “I told her I’d show her how to keep Andrew in line.”

       “Ah, I see,” he answered. “You think he’ll be receptive to this way of life?”

       “Oh, god yes! Andrew practically begs to be dominated. He just doesn’t know it yet. I could have that man eating out of the palm of my hand in one evening.”

       “I’m sure you could, you’re a genius for taming men, but is Kathleen up to the task?”

       I shrugged. “That’s up to Kathleen, All I plan to do is show her how to put the ornery bastard in his submissive place.”

       “He can be a bit of an egotistical prick, if you’ll excuse my commentary,” Douglas added. He was putting together a big tossed salad, that would no doubt taste terrific. I watched him with my mouth watering, popping croutons in my mouth.

       “Stop that!” he snapped at her lightly.

       “Stop what?”

       “You promised not to eat my creations until they’re done.”

       “Don’t get surly, there will be plenty left,” I shot back. “Besides, you bark at me again you’ll give me reason to redden your fanny again.”

       “You don’t need a reason, my dear Alexandra,” Douglas reminded me affectionately. “My buns are all yours.”

       “You’re right about that,” I said, “Come here with that spoon.”

       Douglas bent over and I gave him twenty with the wooden spoon, bringing back the rosy glow on his ass cheeks. He didn’t protest that much, we were both into an erotic rapture that was likely to last all evening long. We teased each other mercilessly, and punctuated the playfulness with more sound paddlings and some righteous fucking.

The next evening, Douglas and I took great pains to prepare ourselves for the impending special event, starring Kathleen and Andrew. We intended to set the tone early for the casual and revealing evening. Douglas wore silk pajama pants and nothing on top. I liked looking at him, seeing his bulging muscles, thinking how he was completely at my mercy, this brute of a man.

       For myself, I was wearing a short leather skirt and a leather corset that pushed my tits into a fine cleavage, and my thigh-high boots. The costume was my only venture into dominatrix attire. I wasn’t the type to go any great extremes, yet this particular costume seemed to have a peculiar effect on Douglas. Every time I wore it, his cock would instantly stiffen.

       As we dressed I thought of the interesting possibilities the evening posed. The idea of starting a brand new twist in my dear friend Kathleen’s relationship was very intriguing.

       “So you’re going to show me off tonight,” Douglas asked, just as we were about ready to go downstairs.

       “Yes,” I said.

       “You’ll paddle me in front of them?”

       “I’ll likely use the strap,” I conjectured.

       “You don’t think that will be a little too severe? I mean with Andrew being taken by surprise.”

       “You let me be the judge, my dear,” I replied.

       “I just thought .... “

       “You’re just getting scared, Douglas, I can see it in your eyes.”

       “I am not,” he objected.

       “Don’t disagree with me, you never get testy unless you’re afraid.” He wanted to reply, I could see the words forming on his lips, but he was silent. “This’ll do you good to have a challenge. You haven’t had a decent one in a while. I’ll likely let Kathleen have you, just to get in practice.”

       His trepidation was what I expected from him, though it didn’t bother me, since I had no doubt that my well trained husband would perform exactly as I directed. On another night I’d have probably taken him over my knee just for this small hesitation; but it was almost time for Kathleen and Andrew to be arriving and we had to get downstairs. Besides, he’d have plenty of good sound swats before the night was over.

Douglas and I had entertained Kathy and Andrew a number of times before, but obviously there had been no real discussion of our private lives. I suppose there were clues that an astute observer could pick up about our relationship; but I suspected that Andrew would be surprised by the turn of things later in the evening. Kathleen, on the other hand, had been aware for some time of the unusual aspects of my marriage. She was shocked when I first told her that Douglas craved, indeed needed, regular spankings on his naked bottom, and I was more than happy to oblige. But some months after that initial revelation, I found her asking me repeated questions about how our spanking life really worked.

       “I think I’d like to do something like that to Andrew, especially when he’s so moody. He’s infuriating, and he gets so agitated I’d just like to slap him!”

       “Perhaps a good spanking is exactly what he needs,” I suggested. There was an odd look in her eye. “Want to give it try?”

       “I think so,” she answered firmly. I could see that the idea had ignited her imagination. “I just hope Andrew will be as yielding as Douglas is.”

       “Oh, there’s sometimes an uproar at the start, but it’s just a little fear of breaking the traditional man/woman boundaries. If Andrew is at all like Douglas he’ll thank you for it once you take the plunge.”

       “You know thanking me is the least of my concerns right now. I just want a ready answer to his rotten attitude.”

       I remember thinking at the time, that Kathleen and Andrew were a perfect couple for the kind of life that Douglas and I lead. Kathleen is a remarkable woman; she isn’t so much beautiful as she is dramatic, with dark skin and eyes, and raven black hair that she often ties back with a clasp, giving her an elegant if not severe look. I’d watched her come into her own in the last several years as her small business blossomed and she found herself relishing the authority and power that went with it.

       Marrying Andrew, she chose a man who was decidedly different from her. Though he was handsome and charming, a perfect compliment to Kathleen’s charm and good looks, Andrew was much more reserved than his wife, an artist who withdrew into his work and needed a good strong woman like Kathleen to “take care of him.” Though I knew she loved him dearly, I could see that he was likely frustrating, demanding and egotistical, the way many artistic types often are.

       She was probably correct in her appraisal of Andrew’s real needs, including the need for some good sound discipline to bring him off his “high horse.”

When the door bell rang at eight o’clock, Douglas and I were both there to greet our guests.

       Kathleen instantly recognized our attire as appropriate for the games we intended to play that evening. Andrew on the other hand was momentarily taken aback.

       “You look ravishing tonight, Alexandra,” Andrew finally commented. “A little frightening, I might add.”

       “Ah, you noticed,” I said.

       “How could I not?” he answered, giving me the once over again, from the high-heel boots to the cleavage atop my leather corset.

       “Just another side of me,” I replied. Every one but Andrew knew what I meant.

       We escorted our guests downstairs to our “playroom.” This special basement room was, in fact, one of our favorite rooms in our large home. It was originally intended to be an old fashioned men’s parlor. While the rest of our home had been modernized to a more eclectic contemporary theme, the lower level was still very rustic. It revealed the hundred year old home’s original rough hewn beams in the high ceiling, stone walls and the massive fireplace—that on this night was roaring brightly, keeping the room well-warmed for our intended antics. There was a thick burgundy carpet covering the floor, a wall of dark cherry bookshelves and cabinets, and several brown, leathers couches, all giving the room an old style European ambience that suited our taste in pleasure.

       Douglas called it my dungeon, though I’d never employed any whips and chains usually associated with that kind of place. We kept our dominant/submissive relationship to the simpler accouterments: paddles, straps, leather spankers, couches, benches and my lap. Occasionally, I tied his hands, when they threatened to get in the way, or I was exceptionally put off. But I always thought that the best bondage was that of the mind. His own desires usually kept him in his place.

       “So, what’s going on here tonight?” Andrew finally asked when he’d become aware that it wasn’t the friendly gathering he was accustomed to.

       I saw Kathleen sigh with a small tremor of reluctance, and I knew I’d have to take the lead if we were to ever get anywhere with our plans.

       Rescuing my friend, I began by suggesting to Andrew that I thought he might want to know a little more intimate side of Douglas and me.

       “More intimate? I don’t think I’m particularly interested in seeing you screw, if that’s what you mean,” he quipped jovially.

       “That’s not quite what I had in mind,” I replied. “This is something that both Kathleen and I thought you’d find fascinating.”

       “Oh? So what is it?” He was looking at me cautiously. I don’t think he’d ever quite trusted me, because I never let him get away with barking at me or Kathleen; though to date, I’d only verbally admonished him when he started to sass.

       “You see Andrew, Douglas has been a bit of a naughty boy,” I said. My husband and I were sitting side by side on a couch opposite Kathy and Andrew. I was stroking Douglas’s hair and purring like a kitten. (Though I was ready to bare my claws.) “Isn’t that right, Douglas?”

       “Yes, my dear,” he replied.

       “And he’s going to be paddled on his bottom.”

       “What!” Andrew looked at me astounded.

       “That’s right, he’s learned that his best self comes out when he’s my submissive little lamb.”

       “You put up with this Doug?” Andrew replied disbelieving the whole thing.

       My husband only smiled.

       “And you will too,” Kathy piped in evenly.

       “Wait a minute!”

       “Douglas, get me the long strap,” I ordered, and he quickly rose to comply with my wishes.

       As I stood, I directed my attention to Andrew sitting shell-shocked across from me. Looking down, I made certain he was looking directly at me as I didn’t want him to miss one word of explanation. “You watch very carefully, my friend, because it’s going to be you next. Your behavior is frightful and Kathleen is going to learn tonight just how to tame that cocky attitude of yours.”

       With that, I briskly moved on, realizing that the best weapon in this scenario was to keep Andrew off guard.

       “You know why you’re getting this?” I asked, now directing my attention to Douglas, who had presented me with the leather razor strap.

       “Yes, I do,” he replied.

       “So, tell our guests.”

       “You’re still angry that I was so late last night, and I know you didn’t appreciate my balking over your plans tonight.”

       “Very good. And now that you’ve nailed down the reasons, down with your pajamas.”