Call-out

It was Simon's turn to be surprised when, after the usual opening banter, he heard Sarah ask if he knew the whereabouts of The Badger. He smiled to himself, then confided in Sarah that the creature in question had created a sett in an old shoe box that was lurking somewhere at the back of a wardrobe.

Surprise turned to deep curiosity when Sarah then asked him if she could talk to him privately, face to face. She said no more, but the two of them agreed that it might be best if she visited him, since other colleagues knew of her address and some lived quite close by, whereas nobody outside the HR Department had bothered to find out his location. All that his line manager needed was his mobile number.

Their conversation eventually turned, somewhat nervously at the start, to the matter that Sarah had raised on the 'phone. She had wondered how best to address it without alarming Simon. Eventually, she had decided that he, being an engineer by profession and in his nature, would be a practical man who liked clear diagrams to show him all he needed to know about a given task.

Sarah had looked at Simon in her attention-catching way and had come straight out with what was on her mind.

"I know that Helena told you about what she used to do for me."

Simon nodded, wearing an expression that invited Sarah to continue.

"And I suppose you know that Helena shared some basic facts about your life together, but never in detail,"

Sarah giggled softly in slight embarrassment.

Simon's smile widened as he nodded again, affirmatively.

"Weelll, I was wondering if you would be prepared to take on that role for me, Simon."

There was a lengthy pause, not due to any sinister factor or even to uncertainty. Simon simply needed time to re-assemble his jumbled thoughts, which had been tossed into the air by the totally unexpected enquiry from Sarah, who was now, herself, blushing, but smiling warmly.

Simon rested his chin on his hand, wearing the expression of a friend who cares very much about somebody as he looked Sarah in the eye.

"OK, a couple of points." He cleared his throat to give himself some thinking time.

"I know what Helena meant to you, Sarah. I also know what you meant to her. For that and for the way you have always stood by us during the bad times, I will always be in your debt."

Sarah put her hand to her mouth in a way that suggested that she felt she had made a mistake as she saw tears in the corners of Simon's eyes. Instinctively, she reached out to touch Simon's right hand, which was resting on the side of his armchair.

He, being a very observant engineer, saw the tell-tale expression and immediately set out to allay any misunderstanding.

"I don't feel in the least bit ashamed to experience the occasional tear when talking about a unique woman who meant so much, to both of us. I feel very much at ease in your company, Sarah, and I want you to know that I am here for you if there is anything that requires support. Just be sure to give me plenty of notice if you're thinking of re-wiring the flat!"

He went on:

"I also know something of the hardship that you have had to endure and of the muck that life has thrown at you."

He turned his right hand over and held Sarah's hand, squeezing it gently, reassuringly.

"That makes it all the more amazing that you should have thought of me, being a man, to take on this role."

Sarah held on to Simon's hand as she responded.

"Well true, Simon, I had noticed that you're a bloke". Sarah winked mischievously. "Difference is that you are the only bloke in the world that I would trust to do this for me. You're like family to me."

Simon had to look away for a moment, as he began to fill up with tears again. These were not due to any sense of weakness on his part, but to his sensitivity in recognising and appreciating the pure delight of trust and confidence expressed by someone as special as Sarah.

Sarah continued:

"I'm sure I've shocked you, but please think about it." She concluded her statement with a smile that had willing vulnerability written all over it.

Simon decided it was time to 'man up', as Helena had often said in her gentle teasing way. He put on his best attempt at a stern expression, again cleared his throat, and spoke:

"Nothing to think about, Sarah. Leastways, nothing new. I will be honest and say I have often thought about your need and what a privilege it is to help a friend in that way, but I make no bones about the fact that I also love the idea because of the way I feel about you and because I really do want you to get the best out of life."

Sarah smiled, slowly withdrew her hand and leaned back in an expression of total relaxation.

"Shall I order a Chinese takeaway?"

Over the preceding year, Simon had probably spanked Sarah on a dozen or so occasions, to tackle reported flare-ups. The arrangement had been totally private and not a soul at the workplace had the slightest inkling as to the things that they did. Simon smiled to himself and picked up the mobile that had buzzed its way into his thoughts.

He clicked on 'Messages' and read the latest arrival.

'Message from Sprog: Hi Baggy. Is the Badger busy?' x Sprog'.

Following the agreed code, Simon tapped out a simple reply:

'You again, Sprog! No, he isn't busy - yet!' Baggy.'

Half an hour later, a taxi pulled up outside the front door at the nondescript semi and a young woman got out, carrying a small rucksack. After a brief verbal and monetary exchange, the vehicle headed off and the young woman made her way round to the back door and let herself in, as had become the custom.

She smiled as she saw that the oven had been set to 'timer' mode, ready to cook a very enjoyable curry for them that Simon had felt would be an ideal 'next course' on the evening's menu.

By the time Sarah had let herself in, Simon was on his way down to greet her.

As always, the two of them hugged quietly and Simon held the back of Sarah's head in a way that always sent a delicious shiver down her spine.

A frown flitted briefly across Simon's brow. His tone was enquiring and compassionate:

"Have you had another flare-up, Sarah?"

His friend smiled at him and shook her head.

"Well, Simon, that was one of the things I wanted to tell you. I haven't had a proper 'flare-up' for the past twelve months."

Simon now looked puzzled.

"But I thought you had been here to deal .........."

Sarah shook her head in the manner of a naughty girl who has been caught at her mischief.

"I have been coming here for you to spank me because I just wanted to be spanked - by you. Nothing more, nothing less... or at least something along those lines..."

Simon felt quite flabbergasted and broke into a broad grin. He had never been overloaded with self-confidence, even with his beloved Helena, but he had always put his full attention into meeting her needs and that had continued with Sarah, based on what he saw and heard expressed by her as those needs.

Simon again marshalled his thoughts into something vaguely logical and smiled at Sarah.

"Shall we get on with it?"

In his usual manner, having closed all the curtains prior to Sarah's arrival, he set off upstairs to wake The Badger up and bring him downstairs.

He reached into the wardrobe and fetched the shoe-box out of its corner. Almost reverentially, he removed the large slipper, placed it on the bed, then closed the box again. He put the box by the side of his bedside table then turned round, picked the slipper up and prepared to set off back downstairs. He was startled to see Sarah standing in the doorway, her rucksack propped up against the wall. Her jacket was on a coat-hanger on the door. She was smiling impishly, but there was a hint of uncertainty in her expression.

"Baggy, do you mind if we play here today, please?"

Simon was caught well off-guard by that enquiry.

"Errmm, of course, why not?"

Simon immediately set his mind into 'total focus' mode, both for his own protection and to ensure that nothing was going to happen that might compromise this precious friendship.

Constructing a plan rapidly in his mind, he moved the three pillows from what had been Helena's side and placed them at the foot of the marital bed. He turned again to look at Sarah, who had unbuckled her belt and was unzipping her jeans. Simon took a deep breath and set his mental torque wrench to 'maximum' as he grappled with thoughts that were somewhat out of the ordinary, prompted by minor changes in the usual pattern. In his mind's eye, he saw a single yellow light which, to his anorak mind, meant 'proceed with caution, ready to stop at the next signal.'

Simon had his mind back under full control more quickly than he had expected. He sat on the edge of the bed.

Sarah's jeans were neatly folded on the dressing table stool. Now she was facing him, wearing only her camisole top and the white high-leg Sloggi knickers that always made her look so incredibly desirable and that always felt so good under his hand as he was spanking her. Simon managed, not without some difficulty, to avoid looking like a Dickensian urchin with his nose to the sweetshop window and focused on the matter in hand.

There was something subtly different about Sarah's entire demeanour this evening, but Simon had not quite diagnosed what it was yet. Her movements were just a little bit slinkier, her expression was just that tad more open to alternative interpretations.

"Come over here, Sprog. You know the drill!"

Sarah put on a superb schoolgirl voice and retorted, with a barely suppressed giggle:

"Oooh Sir, are you really going to let that mean black and white creature bite my poor innocent little bottom?", rubbing the aforementioned anatomical feature theatrically.

In Simon's eyes, Sarah's bottom was nowhere near small, but neither was it unduly large. In his view, it was a bottom for which sitting was definitely a secondary purpose!

"Let? Sarah. I am going to encourage him with the greatest enthusiasm to make your behind feel like you sat down in a nettle patch!"

The hand-spanking was well under way, with the smacks now landing rhythmically, at 5 second intervals, spread evenly across both cheeks. There was now a delicate shade of pink visible through the ultra-white Sloggis. As was often the case, there was little chatter, but Simon did notice that Sarah was holding on to his right leg. This was most unusual.

After a good ten minutes of volleys of hand smacks, there was the customary pause whilst Simon's hand stroked the seat of the spanked bottom through the knickers that he expected Sarah soon to be sending on their way southwards. There was total relaxation in both of them as Simon's hands busied themselves gently with their soothing work.

"Sir?"

Simon was about to look round the room to see to whom the salutation had been made when he realised that it had to be him. He frowned, but only out of uncertainty.

Sarah had turned her head round and was smiling at him.

Simon returned the smile.

"Yes, young lady" he replied, confident that two could play at that game.

Sarah flushed slightly.

"Sir, will you take my knickers down this time, please, I don't want to move to the slippering position just yet if that's OK."

Simon nodded.

"Of course, Sprog. Glad you feel you can ask."

Simon had never lowered Sarah's knickers before and it was with hesitancy borne of great caution that he slid his hands inside her waistband, first caressing the warm cheeks, then moving to her hips.

As he pushed her knickers down, he realised that Sarah was not in quite her usual relaxed state and it became apparent that she was feeling something a bit more powerful than the serenity that a spanked bottom usually created in her. The evidence was picked up by all of Simon's senses.

Sarah bent her legs as an invitation to take the knickers off. This, too, was a first. A picture was beginning to form in Simon's mind, not one with which he was familiar outside the realm of dreams. Quickly, he reached for his mental torque wrench again.

Having put the knickers down by his side, Simon again looked towards Sarah's head, which was now facing away from him. Her hand was squeezing his leg gently.

"Sir?"

Simon was on the point of saying 'What is it now, Sprog?' in a jocular tone when the thought crossed his mind that this might not be the moment for levity. Maybe Sarah was trying to tell him something.

He spoke warmly:

"Yes, Sarah, what is it?"

Sarah turned her head round again and addressed him:

"Simon, trust me, trust yourself, OK?"

A seismic shudder ran through Simon's mind as he set to the bare-bottom phase of the hand-spanking stage.

Again, his timing was precise, the strength of the smacks was only varied very occasionally and his touch, during the caressing that interspersed the volleys of smacks was unusually sensuous.

At the end of one volley, Sarah flexed her left leg, then straightened it again. She repeated this on the right side, then lifted her tummy briefly before settling back into position.

Simon observed closely, as his hands stroked the soft skin tenderly.

Slowly, Sarah moved her ankles apart until there was a gap of about six inches between her knees. Simon did not pick up instantly on the signal, but Sarah's words came back to him:

"Simon, trust me, trust yourself, OK?"

His left hand slid softly down from Sarah's waist, over her left buttock and down the middle of her thigh back. Sarah's bottom rose slightly in response as the ministering hand moved to her right thigh and she felt his fingers fold delicately over the ultra-sensitive skin on the inside of her thigh, which became progressively warmer as the hand moved slowly upwards. As that hand reached a point about an inch from the top, Sarah's thighs opened wide and her bottom rose. With exquisite gentleness, the fingers of the spanking hand folded over the shape of her outer girl lips and she pressed eagerly against the visiting hand.

Simon's felt compelled to say something, but he resisted the compulsion.

"Sir?"

The soft female voice uttered that word again in a tone that set Simon trembling with a heady mixture of male desire and of the deep care of a friend.

"Go on, Sarah..."

"Have you ever felt aroused when you have been spanking me?"

Simon could not believe that the question needed to be asked, but he went along with the tone.

"You need to ask, Sarah? Of course I do."

He felt Sarah's body become even more relaxed.

"Well, Sir, you have never crossed any boundaries, you have always been a perfect gentleman and you have met all my needs perfectly, but now......"

Sarah's voice tailed off as she experienced a flush of embarrassment and other sentiments....

Simon encouraged her to continue.

"Well, now the needs are changing. I'm ready to move on."

For a moment, Simon thought he had been 'released' again, but Sarah continued:

"You know I tell things as they are, so I'll do just that..."

"I want us to be lovers, Simon, it's as simple as that."

Simon had become unbelievably calm.....

"But why me, Sarah, when there are so many good-looking younger men out there who..."

There was a hint of anger, but only of loving rebuke, in Sarah's interruption:

"Simon, when I look at you outside the workplace, do you know what I see? I see a gentleman, a sensitive gentleman, a kind man, a man who cares for me, cares about me, who asks for nothing and gives everything. You may not think of yourself as attractive to women, but you have been the most attractive guy in the world to one woman, who lived for you and you alone in that way. You are also very attractive to me. You don't put me on a pedestal, creep to me, try to worm your way into areas that are private. You just do the right thing. I know you will be a good lover."

Sarah had now made it very clear from her spoken word, also from body language that would have been lewd and absurd in a different context, but that was unbelievably beautiful to Simon in this ultra-private setting, that she was serious about her longing to have her sexual needs met by the one man with whom she felt safe, the one and only man upon whom she could rely never to betray her trust.

There is something indescribably beautiful and enriching in the sexual union, in body and mind, shared by two people of their entirely free will. They are gifts and those, by definition, cannot be taken, only given.

An extremely patient owl surveyed the territory beneath the branches of the tree in which it was perched, invisible to creatures below on the ground. The faintest of sounds was picked up by the owl's hypersensitive ears. As the beautiful creature prepared to launch itself into the frosty night sky, a growing roaring sound and a high-pitched whine could be heard, approaching from the distance. With a blinding blue flash, followed by a blurred line of yellowish light capped off at the end with a bright flashing red light, the electrically-hauled Early Scotch Sleeper raced past on the first stage of its journey to the far, frozen North, with a blast from the locomotive's horn as it plunged into the long tunnel. By the time quietness had returned, the furry source of the earlier tiny sound was safely concealed in the ballast and a disappointed owl flew off in search of his next target.

Simon missed this usual cue for a time-check, for he was fast asleep, his young lover nestling in his arms, with her back to him, his now resting manhood pressed lightly against buttocks that glowed with residual heat, just as the heart of their blissfully contented owner glowed with peace and contentment in a bed to which physical fulfilment had returned in a way that would most surely have delighted the previous tenant.