Suzanne
apter 01
A young woman is spanked
Her friend Barbara was out, and in a huff Suzanne backed out of the drive, without looking carefully enough. She crashed straight into a passing car. Barbara's neighbour was a tough, no nonsense looking older man. He looked to be in his late forties, whereas she was a young looking twenty-six.
Suzanne felt a fool. The thought of telling her husband about another accident, kept circulating through her mind. The insurance had expired last week, so this would cost them dearly. The money was one thing, though it was the image of her husband's angry rebuke that chilled her the most.
"I'm really sorry, sir," Suzanne began saying. It was imperative to get him onside, by gaining some sympathy.
James angrily cut her short. "You should be. Both doors are damaged and the back wing. I'll be without a car for the next few weeks, while this is repaired!"
"You had better come in so we can sort out the paperwork," he told her.
Suzanne trotted along behind on high heels, trying to keep up with his long strides. She was reminded of her father, who was a similar strong character, which didn't help if she was going to try to be assertive.
In a spare bedroom he used as a study, she stood before him, not invited to sit down. She felt like an errant schoolgirl facing the wrath of a high school principal. He had her name, address, and vehicle details, by asking quick precise questions. The note pad was filling with neat handwriting, as he described the accident.
"Insurance details," James demanded, in the same precise, unfriendly manner.
She squirmed on the spot, feeling foolish over forgetting to renew the insurance. Jim would be furious when he got the bill. She knew it would be impossible to tell him until it arrived. He would be even angrier that she hid it from him.
"Stand still. Just tell me, or get them from your car," James said.
"I. Err. I don't have insurance, sir," she stammered, trying to be polite and winsome. He gave her a withering look, forcing out an explanation.
"I'm sorry, sir. I forgot to renew it last week. I meant to, but it slipped my mind. There are so many things to do and I did get the paperwork ready, its pinned to the notice board in the kitchen," she blurted out.
"Stop that babble right now, young lady. Take a deep breath, and calm down. Now, just tell me how you are going to pay for the repairs. No. One word will do, cash, cheque, or credit card?" he asked.
"Instalments?" she timidly asked.
"What? Does that mean you don't have the means to pay?" he gruffly asked.
All Suzanne could do was nod in agreement. She felt such a fool in front of this forceful man, it pushed her deeper into feeling like a foolish schoolgirl.
"What about your husband?" he asked.
"Please, sir, I don't want him to find out. Could we keep this between ourselves, please," she asked. The little miss innocent act was more of a necessity than ever.
"I don't know what instalment arrangement you had in mind, but how do I know you will keep up the payments. Your administration and financial arrangements seem to be deplorable," he stated.
He was looking at her with disdain. She felt humiliated and vulnerable under his fierce scrutiny. The criticism of her affairs was too accurate to deny, leaving her little to say. She stood there like a fool, under his stare, wondering what to say. As though in class, she put her hand up, with an eager look on her face.
When he nodded assent, she blurted out an idea.
"Perhaps I could do something for you, sir. Kind of, work the payment off, maybe?" she asked, and shrugged her shoulders, not knowing what to suggest.
"What can you do?" James asked, with a sigh of exasperation.
"Err, I can cook, and clean house," she brightly suggested.
Since leaving high school she hadn't worked, as Josh wanted her at home. It meant she had no other experience to offer. It came home to her how dependent she was on Josh. Besides receiving a household allowance, he took care of everything. After the little bumps in the car, he made her deal with the insurance renewal, telling her to be more responsible. She messed that up big time.
"So you want me to take you on as a maid, until you pay back the repair bills?" he gruffly asked.
"Yes please, sir," she blurted out, before realising what had been agreed.
He harrumphed, looking decidedly unhappy about such an arrangement. As much as it felt like a horrible idea, it seemed the only chance to keep it from her husband. She could easily slip around here after he went to the office.
"You can spend the next hour under assessment. If you are satisfactory we can draw up an agreement," he stated, while tapping the desk with a pen, to emphasis every word.
"Thank you, sir," Suzanne replied, and almost curtsied.
She felt pleased to have the chance to prove herself, and keep the secret from her husband. A little thrill ran through her at the prospect of having a job. As humble as it was, it would get her out of the house for a short while each week.
"Follow me," he told her. In a spare bedroom he handed her a wraparound overall. "Take off that dress and wear this. It will remind you what you are here for. You need to learn some discipline in your life, young lady," he sternly told her.
Suzanne just stood there watching him march out of the room, wondering how this had happened. She was wearing an expensive outfit, in anticipation of going shopping with Barbara. Cleaning house might ruin it, so it was practical to wear the humble looking garment.
Shrugging off the high heels she slipped into a pair of flat shoes. She hurriedly pulled off the dress, to wrap the cheap nylon garment on. It was a size too small, but her breasts weren't exposed, and the bra didn't show.
It was shorter than she would have liked, but nothing that couldn't be coped with. The stocking tops were covered, only just. It would be difficult bending and reaching, without revealing the suspender straps. She sighed heavily, on looking at herself in a mirror. She hardly looked like a domestic maid, except for the overall.
Joining him in the kitchen, she looked around wondering what to do, as everything was neat and tidy. He handed her a list of chores.
"I'll be in my study if you need further instruction," he informed her. She really did feel like a humble household maid. The oven didn't look as dirty as the one at home. Still, orders were orders, so she squirted cleaning fluid over the surfaces. While it foamed up, she started on the cupboards.
The kitchen chores were completed, so she moved on to the lounge. Everywhere was spotless and spartanly decorated, as might be expected in a bachelor's home. At least she was cleaning this neat home, unlike her brothers messy apartment.
"Damn!" she cried out. On hands and knees she stared in disbelief at the shattered pieces of a broken urn.
"Now what have you done!" James said, followed by a loud hiss of disgust.
"Good grief! You foolish girl, that will cost you dearly!" he said, with menace. He stood over her, fiercely staring at the urn. She was quivering with anguish.
"Its bad enough the vase was valuable. It contained my late wife's ashes," he quietly spoke. The anger in his voice was clear enough.
"I. I'm so, so sorry, sir," she said, with a tremulous voice, only just holding back a flood of tears.
"The trouble with you young people today, is you have no discipline, and consequently you are careless. You break things and don't bother to maintain anything either. You just go out and buy new. You are a victim of the throw away society, and you girl, are inflicting it upon me!" he spouted the words angrily.
"Come here!" he quietly demanded.
Quivering too much to stand, she crawled across the floor to him. With a strong grip upon an arm, he pulled her over his knee. Whack! His hand slapped her bottom.
"No! I'm not a girl, I'm a married woman! Ouch! You can't, ouch!" she yelped.
"No! Please, you can't spank me, ouch!" she yelped again.
"Please, sir, don't hurt me. I promise to be a good girl, honest, sir," Suzanne pleaded.
It felt as though she was a *****, back home with her parents, being spanked for some wrong doing. It wasn't until her father died that she had rebelled, becoming a late developer, as far as sex was concerned. That was when she met Josh. Her first fling, and she was hooked on him.
He took over, replacing her father to some degree. He cosseted and looked after her, though something more than that was needed. She couldn't exactly put a finger on what was missing from their relationship.
"Ouch! Please, sir, I will be a good ***********, honest I will, please stop, sir. I'll do anything you want, sir," she yelped.
James's anger hadn't been abated, he just came to his senses. His hand stung which brought him sharply to the present. He rolled her off his lap with a feeling of disgust. The snivelling bitch was more nuisance than she was worth. It was then he realised he had spoken the harsh words out loud.
He looked down at her. She was spread out on the floor, with the overall falling open, showing off her underwear.
"Cover yourself up you brazen hussy," James sternly admonished her.
Suzanne felt so humiliated, she could hardly function. He had called her a snivelling bitch, and a nuisance. Now she was a brazen hussy. A part of her wanted to get up and shout at him for being a brute and a bully. Something else too was happening, something she needed to ignore. Like a frightened rabbit, she remained stunned on the floor at his feet.
She felt like a stupid ***********, a useless nuisance, and a naughty brazen hussy.
"Now look, you're bleeding on the carpet," he gruffly stated.
James grabbed her wrist and pulled her up, off the floor. He led her into the bathroom where he rummaged for a bandaid. Taking the hand that had been pulling the overall together, he carefully wrapped a bandaid around the thumb, covering a nasty gash.
Suzanne wished she had worn a more sensible set of underwear. Visiting Barbara meant dressing up, and of course she had to wear the newest bra, panties, and stockings, to feel right.
The overall was hanging open, showing off the delicate bra and panties. Although he didn't seem to notice, she was terribly conscious of her near nakedness before a stranger. A silent stream of tears ran down her cheeks. Feeling so lowly and pathetic, brought on a heartfelt sob.
"There, there, young lady, you're not going to bleed to death," he told her. His voice was hardly warm, though less gruff. He patted her head, in an awkward attempt to console her.
She wrapped her arms around him, and cried on his chest. It had been a long time since she had something to cry about. There was something missing in her life, though reaching for what it was had been impossible. Emotion from a deep emptiness poured from her. She grasped onto this strong, domineering man. He was harsh and had spanked her, yet somehow that made her feel wanted.
The tears receded and she reached up to kiss him on the cheek. He opened his mouth to complain, so she automatically kissed his open mouth. Her tongue delved in and hungrily explored, seeking acceptance.
James was astounded. He knew she was a woman, not a silly young girl. He shouldn't have treated her like one, even though she had shown all the irresponsibility of an *********.
He wasn't responding which stoked a need within her. She urgently needed his approval, and feared rejection. It wasn't a friend's neighbour she was trying to please, it was an inner need for a strong domineering man. She needed someone who would treat her right. She pressed her body against his, blatantly offering herself to him.
She was grateful to feel him responding, holding her tight, tongue duelling tongue. He lifted her onto the edge of the sink, pushing between her legs, forcing her thighs apart. Only half aware of what was happening, she became very aware of his hardness entering her.
'No! Not him! Not this old man!' thoughts screamed, echoing around in her mind.
With each deep thrust her cheeks were lifted and dropped on the hard sink. He was careless of what she wanted, unknowing of her rhythm, not bothering to find out. He was just taking what had been put on offer.
"Fuck me harder," her voice whimpered, sounding loud in the small bathroom. "Punish me, fuck me hard."
"You little slut. You're a dirty mouthed slut," he hoarsely breathed at her. Without missing a beat of hard thrusts, he slapped her face, almost dropping her. He held her perched on the edge of the sink with one hand, and with his cock buried deep into her body. He grabbed a fistful of hair to hold her in place.
"Yes! I'm your little slut, sir, fuck your dirty slut hard," she cried out. "Please make your slut cum, let your little slut cum, sir," she wailed.
The words shocked her. The feeling of being a dirty little tramp, being roughly used, overcame her. The slut in her took over, letting loose. The slut screeched meaningless sounds. She wrapped her legs around his waist, digging in hard; the feeling of being ridden like a dirty little slut pushing her to an orgasm.
"Oh! God! I'm cumin," she wailed. For the first time ever, she felt a spurt of cum deep inside. He crushed her in his strong arms, still spurting cum deeply into her body, seeming to fill her up. His cock was big and strong like him.
Suzanne returned, slinking back from being a slut. She dare not open her eyes, not wanting to see a stranger filling her body with his cock. She became fearful of what she had said and done.
Her mind reeled with contrary feelings. She felt fulfilled, yet it had been a bad thing. It had been with a stranger, instead of her husband! So it must true, that she was a dirty little slut. So why did she feel so wonderful?
After they cleaned up in separate bathrooms, she walked into the lounge to find he had tidied away the mess she had made. The thought of spilling his wife's ashes added to the burden of guilt. Straining with all the will left to her, she managed to tap on the study door.
"Come," he loudly said.
Suzanne jumped in fright. The single word rang in her ears, as though they had been slapped. With a red face she stepped into his study to stand before him. She no longer felt like a schoolgirl, she was a little slut, deserving to be fiercely chastised by the stern father figure.
Her mother had scolded her years ago, saying she wouldn't have dared to behave like such a naughty girl, if her father were alive. So here she was, ready to face a stern father figure, for a well deserved punishment.
"Tomorrow morning at ten, and I expect you to be prompt, and to be on your best behaviour young woman. Do you understand me?" he sternly demanded.
"Yes, sir, sorry, sir," she blushed, and curtsied.
In a state of confusion, she left his house to walk back to her car. She couldn't possibly think about what happened, it was all too dreadful. It had been her fault, she had thrown herself at him, so what was he expected to do. At least he hadn't dismissed her, by accepting the sex in exchange for the money she owed. That would have made her a prostitute.
Instead he had ignored the naughty episode, treating her like a naughty ***********. She now had a chance, to make it up to him. To show him she could be a good responsible woman.
"Hi Suzy! You looking for me?" Barbara called. "You OK? You look as though you've been in an accident!" she laughed. She nodded toward the dented rear end.
Suzanne walked into her friend's home, not listening to the incessant chattering. Barbara handed her a bottle of cool soda, with a straw, something new she explained. Suzanne chewed the straw feeling nervous and highly strung.
She was about to break down, but instead blurted out all that had happened. She left out how exciting it had been at the time, only admitting she felt very guilty.
With the soda in her hand it felt like being with a young student again, sharing naughty adventures from the night before. Except now they weren't just swapping gossip about heavy petting sessions. She was confessing a sexual encounter with a stranger!
Barbara listened, as good friends do, without interrupting the edgy spilling of words. Just interjecting the occasional appropriate sound of sympathy. She understood the look on her friend's face, when mentioning being spanked, and filled in the gaps in the hurried dialogue. It was obvious what the young woman was feeling, and why. She guessed at why her friend had behaved badly, even if Suzanne hadn't.
"I feel so terribly guilty. Just don't tell anyone, please Barbara," Suzanne finally said. Most of all she meant her husband, though left it unsaid.
Barbara didn't know what to do with her. She looked at the young woman, seeing how foolish she was, unsure whether to take advantage, or help her out of a bind. Either way she would have to make it fun.
"You do realise he's over fifty?" Barbara stated. The look on her friend's face was a picture of shock. She went pale and covered her face with both hands. The poor thing still hadn't realised why it had happened.
"You have to promise me you'll come here tomorrow, and tell me everything, everything!" Barbara said, with a firm voice. She was older than her friend, who often confided in her, seeking advice.
"Yes sure. I will, I promise," Suzanne answered. She was worried because her friend hadn't promised not to tell anyone. Their conversation moved on to clothes and the local gossip. It took her mind off what had happened for short awhile.
A young woman is spanked
Her friend Barbara was out, and in a huff Suzanne backed out of the drive, without looking carefully enough. She crashed straight into a passing car. Barbara's neighbour was a tough, no nonsense looking older man. He looked to be in his late forties, whereas she was a young looking twenty-six.
Suzanne felt a fool. The thought of telling her husband about another accident, kept circulating through her mind. The insurance had expired last week, so this would cost them dearly. The money was one thing, though it was the image of her husband's angry rebuke that chilled her the most.
"I'm really sorry, sir," Suzanne began saying. It was imperative to get him onside, by gaining some sympathy.
James angrily cut her short. "You should be. Both doors are damaged and the back wing. I'll be without a car for the next few weeks, while this is repaired!"
"You had better come in so we can sort out the paperwork," he told her.
Suzanne trotted along behind on high heels, trying to keep up with his long strides. She was reminded of her father, who was a similar strong character, which didn't help if she was going to try to be assertive.
In a spare bedroom he used as a study, she stood before him, not invited to sit down. She felt like an errant schoolgirl facing the wrath of a high school principal. He had her name, address, and vehicle details, by asking quick precise questions. The note pad was filling with neat handwriting, as he described the accident.
"Insurance details," James demanded, in the same precise, unfriendly manner.
She squirmed on the spot, feeling foolish over forgetting to renew the insurance. Jim would be furious when he got the bill. She knew it would be impossible to tell him until it arrived. He would be even angrier that she hid it from him.
"Stand still. Just tell me, or get them from your car," James said.
"I. Err. I don't have insurance, sir," she stammered, trying to be polite and winsome. He gave her a withering look, forcing out an explanation.
"I'm sorry, sir. I forgot to renew it last week. I meant to, but it slipped my mind. There are so many things to do and I did get the paperwork ready, its pinned to the notice board in the kitchen," she blurted out.
"Stop that babble right now, young lady. Take a deep breath, and calm down. Now, just tell me how you are going to pay for the repairs. No. One word will do, cash, cheque, or credit card?" he asked.
"Instalments?" she timidly asked.
"What? Does that mean you don't have the means to pay?" he gruffly asked.
All Suzanne could do was nod in agreement. She felt such a fool in front of this forceful man, it pushed her deeper into feeling like a foolish schoolgirl.
"What about your husband?" he asked.
"Please, sir, I don't want him to find out. Could we keep this between ourselves, please," she asked. The little miss innocent act was more of a necessity than ever.
"I don't know what instalment arrangement you had in mind, but how do I know you will keep up the payments. Your administration and financial arrangements seem to be deplorable," he stated.
He was looking at her with disdain. She felt humiliated and vulnerable under his fierce scrutiny. The criticism of her affairs was too accurate to deny, leaving her little to say. She stood there like a fool, under his stare, wondering what to say. As though in class, she put her hand up, with an eager look on her face.
When he nodded assent, she blurted out an idea.
"Perhaps I could do something for you, sir. Kind of, work the payment off, maybe?" she asked, and shrugged her shoulders, not knowing what to suggest.
"What can you do?" James asked, with a sigh of exasperation.
"Err, I can cook, and clean house," she brightly suggested.
Since leaving high school she hadn't worked, as Josh wanted her at home. It meant she had no other experience to offer. It came home to her how dependent she was on Josh. Besides receiving a household allowance, he took care of everything. After the little bumps in the car, he made her deal with the insurance renewal, telling her to be more responsible. She messed that up big time.
"So you want me to take you on as a maid, until you pay back the repair bills?" he gruffly asked.
"Yes please, sir," she blurted out, before realising what had been agreed.
He harrumphed, looking decidedly unhappy about such an arrangement. As much as it felt like a horrible idea, it seemed the only chance to keep it from her husband. She could easily slip around here after he went to the office.
"You can spend the next hour under assessment. If you are satisfactory we can draw up an agreement," he stated, while tapping the desk with a pen, to emphasis every word.
"Thank you, sir," Suzanne replied, and almost curtsied.
She felt pleased to have the chance to prove herself, and keep the secret from her husband. A little thrill ran through her at the prospect of having a job. As humble as it was, it would get her out of the house for a short while each week.
"Follow me," he told her. In a spare bedroom he handed her a wraparound overall. "Take off that dress and wear this. It will remind you what you are here for. You need to learn some discipline in your life, young lady," he sternly told her.
Suzanne just stood there watching him march out of the room, wondering how this had happened. She was wearing an expensive outfit, in anticipation of going shopping with Barbara. Cleaning house might ruin it, so it was practical to wear the humble looking garment.
Shrugging off the high heels she slipped into a pair of flat shoes. She hurriedly pulled off the dress, to wrap the cheap nylon garment on. It was a size too small, but her breasts weren't exposed, and the bra didn't show.
It was shorter than she would have liked, but nothing that couldn't be coped with. The stocking tops were covered, only just. It would be difficult bending and reaching, without revealing the suspender straps. She sighed heavily, on looking at herself in a mirror. She hardly looked like a domestic maid, except for the overall.
Joining him in the kitchen, she looked around wondering what to do, as everything was neat and tidy. He handed her a list of chores.
"I'll be in my study if you need further instruction," he informed her. She really did feel like a humble household maid. The oven didn't look as dirty as the one at home. Still, orders were orders, so she squirted cleaning fluid over the surfaces. While it foamed up, she started on the cupboards.
The kitchen chores were completed, so she moved on to the lounge. Everywhere was spotless and spartanly decorated, as might be expected in a bachelor's home. At least she was cleaning this neat home, unlike her brothers messy apartment.
"Damn!" she cried out. On hands and knees she stared in disbelief at the shattered pieces of a broken urn.
"Now what have you done!" James said, followed by a loud hiss of disgust.
"Good grief! You foolish girl, that will cost you dearly!" he said, with menace. He stood over her, fiercely staring at the urn. She was quivering with anguish.
"Its bad enough the vase was valuable. It contained my late wife's ashes," he quietly spoke. The anger in his voice was clear enough.
"I. I'm so, so sorry, sir," she said, with a tremulous voice, only just holding back a flood of tears.
"The trouble with you young people today, is you have no discipline, and consequently you are careless. You break things and don't bother to maintain anything either. You just go out and buy new. You are a victim of the throw away society, and you girl, are inflicting it upon me!" he spouted the words angrily.
"Come here!" he quietly demanded.
Quivering too much to stand, she crawled across the floor to him. With a strong grip upon an arm, he pulled her over his knee. Whack! His hand slapped her bottom.
"No! I'm not a girl, I'm a married woman! Ouch! You can't, ouch!" she yelped.
"No! Please, you can't spank me, ouch!" she yelped again.
"Please, sir, don't hurt me. I promise to be a good girl, honest, sir," Suzanne pleaded.
It felt as though she was a *****, back home with her parents, being spanked for some wrong doing. It wasn't until her father died that she had rebelled, becoming a late developer, as far as sex was concerned. That was when she met Josh. Her first fling, and she was hooked on him.
He took over, replacing her father to some degree. He cosseted and looked after her, though something more than that was needed. She couldn't exactly put a finger on what was missing from their relationship.
"Ouch! Please, sir, I will be a good ***********, honest I will, please stop, sir. I'll do anything you want, sir," she yelped.
James's anger hadn't been abated, he just came to his senses. His hand stung which brought him sharply to the present. He rolled her off his lap with a feeling of disgust. The snivelling bitch was more nuisance than she was worth. It was then he realised he had spoken the harsh words out loud.
He looked down at her. She was spread out on the floor, with the overall falling open, showing off her underwear.
"Cover yourself up you brazen hussy," James sternly admonished her.
Suzanne felt so humiliated, she could hardly function. He had called her a snivelling bitch, and a nuisance. Now she was a brazen hussy. A part of her wanted to get up and shout at him for being a brute and a bully. Something else too was happening, something she needed to ignore. Like a frightened rabbit, she remained stunned on the floor at his feet.
She felt like a stupid ***********, a useless nuisance, and a naughty brazen hussy.
"Now look, you're bleeding on the carpet," he gruffly stated.
James grabbed her wrist and pulled her up, off the floor. He led her into the bathroom where he rummaged for a bandaid. Taking the hand that had been pulling the overall together, he carefully wrapped a bandaid around the thumb, covering a nasty gash.
Suzanne wished she had worn a more sensible set of underwear. Visiting Barbara meant dressing up, and of course she had to wear the newest bra, panties, and stockings, to feel right.
The overall was hanging open, showing off the delicate bra and panties. Although he didn't seem to notice, she was terribly conscious of her near nakedness before a stranger. A silent stream of tears ran down her cheeks. Feeling so lowly and pathetic, brought on a heartfelt sob.
"There, there, young lady, you're not going to bleed to death," he told her. His voice was hardly warm, though less gruff. He patted her head, in an awkward attempt to console her.
She wrapped her arms around him, and cried on his chest. It had been a long time since she had something to cry about. There was something missing in her life, though reaching for what it was had been impossible. Emotion from a deep emptiness poured from her. She grasped onto this strong, domineering man. He was harsh and had spanked her, yet somehow that made her feel wanted.
The tears receded and she reached up to kiss him on the cheek. He opened his mouth to complain, so she automatically kissed his open mouth. Her tongue delved in and hungrily explored, seeking acceptance.
James was astounded. He knew she was a woman, not a silly young girl. He shouldn't have treated her like one, even though she had shown all the irresponsibility of an *********.
He wasn't responding which stoked a need within her. She urgently needed his approval, and feared rejection. It wasn't a friend's neighbour she was trying to please, it was an inner need for a strong domineering man. She needed someone who would treat her right. She pressed her body against his, blatantly offering herself to him.
She was grateful to feel him responding, holding her tight, tongue duelling tongue. He lifted her onto the edge of the sink, pushing between her legs, forcing her thighs apart. Only half aware of what was happening, she became very aware of his hardness entering her.
'No! Not him! Not this old man!' thoughts screamed, echoing around in her mind.
With each deep thrust her cheeks were lifted and dropped on the hard sink. He was careless of what she wanted, unknowing of her rhythm, not bothering to find out. He was just taking what had been put on offer.
"Fuck me harder," her voice whimpered, sounding loud in the small bathroom. "Punish me, fuck me hard."
"You little slut. You're a dirty mouthed slut," he hoarsely breathed at her. Without missing a beat of hard thrusts, he slapped her face, almost dropping her. He held her perched on the edge of the sink with one hand, and with his cock buried deep into her body. He grabbed a fistful of hair to hold her in place.
"Yes! I'm your little slut, sir, fuck your dirty slut hard," she cried out. "Please make your slut cum, let your little slut cum, sir," she wailed.
The words shocked her. The feeling of being a dirty little tramp, being roughly used, overcame her. The slut in her took over, letting loose. The slut screeched meaningless sounds. She wrapped her legs around his waist, digging in hard; the feeling of being ridden like a dirty little slut pushing her to an orgasm.
"Oh! God! I'm cumin," she wailed. For the first time ever, she felt a spurt of cum deep inside. He crushed her in his strong arms, still spurting cum deeply into her body, seeming to fill her up. His cock was big and strong like him.
Suzanne returned, slinking back from being a slut. She dare not open her eyes, not wanting to see a stranger filling her body with his cock. She became fearful of what she had said and done.
Her mind reeled with contrary feelings. She felt fulfilled, yet it had been a bad thing. It had been with a stranger, instead of her husband! So it must true, that she was a dirty little slut. So why did she feel so wonderful?
After they cleaned up in separate bathrooms, she walked into the lounge to find he had tidied away the mess she had made. The thought of spilling his wife's ashes added to the burden of guilt. Straining with all the will left to her, she managed to tap on the study door.
"Come," he loudly said.
Suzanne jumped in fright. The single word rang in her ears, as though they had been slapped. With a red face she stepped into his study to stand before him. She no longer felt like a schoolgirl, she was a little slut, deserving to be fiercely chastised by the stern father figure.
Her mother had scolded her years ago, saying she wouldn't have dared to behave like such a naughty girl, if her father were alive. So here she was, ready to face a stern father figure, for a well deserved punishment.
"Tomorrow morning at ten, and I expect you to be prompt, and to be on your best behaviour young woman. Do you understand me?" he sternly demanded.
"Yes, sir, sorry, sir," she blushed, and curtsied.
In a state of confusion, she left his house to walk back to her car. She couldn't possibly think about what happened, it was all too dreadful. It had been her fault, she had thrown herself at him, so what was he expected to do. At least he hadn't dismissed her, by accepting the sex in exchange for the money she owed. That would have made her a prostitute.
Instead he had ignored the naughty episode, treating her like a naughty ***********. She now had a chance, to make it up to him. To show him she could be a good responsible woman.
"Hi Suzy! You looking for me?" Barbara called. "You OK? You look as though you've been in an accident!" she laughed. She nodded toward the dented rear end.
Suzanne walked into her friend's home, not listening to the incessant chattering. Barbara handed her a bottle of cool soda, with a straw, something new she explained. Suzanne chewed the straw feeling nervous and highly strung.
She was about to break down, but instead blurted out all that had happened. She left out how exciting it had been at the time, only admitting she felt very guilty.
With the soda in her hand it felt like being with a young student again, sharing naughty adventures from the night before. Except now they weren't just swapping gossip about heavy petting sessions. She was confessing a sexual encounter with a stranger!
Barbara listened, as good friends do, without interrupting the edgy spilling of words. Just interjecting the occasional appropriate sound of sympathy. She understood the look on her friend's face, when mentioning being spanked, and filled in the gaps in the hurried dialogue. It was obvious what the young woman was feeling, and why. She guessed at why her friend had behaved badly, even if Suzanne hadn't.
"I feel so terribly guilty. Just don't tell anyone, please Barbara," Suzanne finally said. Most of all she meant her husband, though left it unsaid.
Barbara didn't know what to do with her. She looked at the young woman, seeing how foolish she was, unsure whether to take advantage, or help her out of a bind. Either way she would have to make it fun.
"You do realise he's over fifty?" Barbara stated. The look on her friend's face was a picture of shock. She went pale and covered her face with both hands. The poor thing still hadn't realised why it had happened.
"You have to promise me you'll come here tomorrow, and tell me everything, everything!" Barbara said, with a firm voice. She was older than her friend, who often confided in her, seeking advice.
"Yes sure. I will, I promise," Suzanne answered. She was worried because her friend hadn't promised not to tell anyone. Their conversation moved on to clothes and the local gossip. It took her mind off what had happened for short awhile.
9 months ago
