It's dreary and raining, like it's been all week. I'm going to console myself by posting the very first Janey and Michelle story I wrote. I particularly like the deus ex machina whereby they found out about each others' kink.
"Michelle, I have a confession to make." I looked up from the book I was reading. Janey looked... different. Not really nervous. But not like herself. Then she added, "Or, perhaps, you have a confession to make."
I raised my eyebrows in a question. She didn't add anything. "I don't know what you mean," I said, puzzled.
"I was using your computer while you were at class, to type up that grant proposal," she said. My heart paused for a second, but then I thought, 'no, she wouldn't look through my private documents....'
Then she continued. "I had saved the document to your hard drive, just using my name, because I didn't have a disk with me. But when I came back from lunch, I couldn't remember which folder I put it into, so I just did a search for files titled with my name, so I wouldn't have to dig through your private stuff." I started to blush uncomfortably. "Imagine my surprise," she said, "When I discovered that there are about a dozen files under my name. And I only saved one."
She hadn't! She couldn't! I looked at her face. She had....
"You didn't...?" My voice caught.
"Oh, I read them. The first one was a bit of a mistake. I thought it was the letter, so I opened it. But then, um, the story caught my attention." My mouth was dry. I just stared at her. She added, somewhat wryly, "I think we need to talk." I continued to stare.
"Well, are you going to tell me about the stories?"
"Ummm...." My mouth was still very dry. I swallowed. "I just wrote them, you know, to see if I could."
She raised an eyebrow. "They were very specific. And quite graphic. Try again."
I stalled. "What did you think about them?"
"We'll talk about that later. Tell me why you wrote them." Her voice was firm. I hadn't heard her like this before. Although I was desperately embarrassed, I was also getting a little bit turned on. Even if this was going to be the end of our relationship, there was a kind of a thrill in getting caught.
"Well, um, I kind of have these fantasies," I said, and paused.
"Yes, you clearly do," was all she offered.
"And, well, I just wanted to, um, imagine what it would be like, if you..."
"If you and I did those kinds of things together." I licked my bottom lip nervously. Now she'd say I was weird and perverted, and that would be the end.
But she folded her arms across her chest, and frowned at me. Not in a distant way. "Don't you think you should get my permission before writing things like that about me? Or perhaps you thought I'd never find out."
"Well, I didn't think you'd ever find them," I admitted.
"But now I have." The look she gave me left me half-turned on, and half-terrified. Maybe she had fantasies like this. Maybe she'd act them out with me. Oh, shit.
"So, what did you think?" My voice cracked a little, but there, I'd asked the question.
She smiled at me. Relief flooded through me. I like our relationship, and I'd rather not lose it. "I liked them. A lot. I think we should talk."
"About what?" I asked innocently.
"About doing something to make it more than a fantasy," she said calmly. I swallowed. "You've never done this except for fooling around at parties, have you?" I shook my head no. "Neither have I. I guess we're all talk and no action. But if the stories you wrote really reflect what you like, I think we’ll do just fine together."
"So you'd spank me?" I asked, nervously. There. I'd said it.
"Oh, yes. I think I'd like that. And I'd do the other things, too." I blanched. Some of those fantasies were a little more heavy than I really thought I could handle.
"There's no one in the house right now," she said, calmly. "Perhaps I should give you a little taste of what we're talking about. Besides, I'm a little ticked off that you'd write stories like that about me, and keep them on your hard drive, where anyone could find them." My heart began to thump. She sat down on the ottoman, and patted her thighs. "Come here."
I got up from the armchair and took the three steps to the ottoman. I stood in front of her. "Well?" she asked, and patted her thighs again.
I awkwardly knelt on the floor beside her, and then she helped me to position myself across her lap. I could hardly believe this was happening. She rubbed my butt gently for several seconds. Then, I felt one of her hands leave, and she brought it down--neither hard nor soft--on my bottom. I let out a little squeak of surprise.
She paused. "Is this okay? Just say stop, and it's over."
I blushed even more furiously. "No, it's fine. I like it. I was just a little surprised, that's all." My reward was a sharp crack on the bottom. And then another, followed by several seconds of hard smacks. She stopped, and rubbed my bottom a bit.
"Maybe we should pull down your pants," she suggested. "I don't want my hand to get sore too soon."
I stood up and turned to face her. I couldn't believe I was about to pull down my pants for a spanking. I hadn't done that since I was a kid, and I certainly hadn't enjoyed it then! But this was different. She wasn't doing this because she was angry, even if she had given the excuse of the stories. All of a sudden, I remembered that it wasn't the spankings I hadn't liked when I was a kid. It was the lack of power. But I didn't feel powerless now.
I slowly unbuckled my belt, and then unbuttoned my pants. I pulled them down, just about to my knees. "That's enough," she said. "Get back over my lap for your punishment." The care in her eyes was enough to remind me that we were both adults, and that this wasn't really a punishment. I lay back down over her lap, and she began to smack my bottom, hard. I had forgotten what it was like to actually get a spanking. I began to wiggle my butt a little bit, writhing to get away from her hand. She stopped.
"It's okay," I panted. "I like it."
She didn't say anything, but then I felt her fingers slide under the waistband of my panties. I wasn't sure what to think. I mean, sure she'd seen me naked before. We were lovers. But to get a bare-bottomed spanking from my lover... was I ready for this? But I didn't tell her to stop, and my panties joined my pants, at my knees.
SMACK! Her hand cracked down hard, several times. My bottom began to burn. It was really starting to hurt. "I think just a couple more," she said, breathing hard. The spanks covered my bottom and thighs.
"Your butt's nice and pink," she said, happily. Then I felt fingers between my thighs. "Oh, my. And you're very wet."
I sat up, wincing slightly at the touch of the rough fabric on my tender bottom. I slid my fingers under her skirt. "You're pretty steamy yourself," I commented. We smiled at each other.