Ellen and Doreen, Punished Together

I assume readers will get the tongue-in-cheek aspects of this. This is a sequel to Wayward Ellen.

******

In the spring and summer of 1981, Ellen, my wife of three years, had affairs with two guys from two different companies. As soon as she got the second job, she dropped the first one -- or he dumped her - and she started up with the second lover.

She was either sloppy or brazen or maybe both, but she did a poor job of covering her tracks. Regarding the first one, I was once waiting on a corner on Greenwich Avenue in the Village when this guy pulled up with Ellen in the front seat of his car. They were both drunk and pawing at each other.

Then we had diner at a restaurant with her other equally drunk coworkers. Elephant and Castle; the place is still there.

To top it off, she threatened to leave me behind in our old Bronx apartment, while she went off for her "trial separation." That never did seem of make sense, because I was supposed to be able to visit her out in her new Brooklyn apartment for, well, conjugal relations. I should have known it was a red herring by the time of my birthday when she gave me a book entitled, Old Brooklyn in Early Photographs, 1865-1929. On the title page she had written, "Dear Paul: start finding your way around. Love, Ellen."

When we did finally move to Brooklyn, the second of her affairs went out of control. She would just disappear for a day, or three, and she never told me exactly where she went. I just had to find out more, so I went through the many typewritten drafts of letters to her sister in her desk drawer. As Erica Jong had written, "I've always thought that going through other people's mail is the lowest of the low, but jealousy will make you do strange things." Those unsent letters confirmed it.

On the advice of a male relative, I had given her an ultimatum: either she submitted to a long and hard hand spanking from me, or I would leave. Actually, I wasn't sure I could follow through on the second threat, but she complied with the first. One afternoon after work, I had her over my lap in the living room, her pantyhose and panties were down around her knees, and her big pale ass exposed to my thwacks.

The problem, if one could call it a problem, was that she liked it more -- a lot more -- than either one us had expected. I recalled the moaning sounds she had made, her statement during the session, "I'm so warm down there, I mean all over."

That was when I had felt her cunt and found it wet, fully lubricated. Eventually, she had straddled me and given me an enthusiastic cowgirl fucking. Pain in her behind became pleasure in her pussy. Of course, my intention to "discipline" her had gone sideways. But I wasn't that concerned back then; I figured I had saved our marriage even if the technique to do that had been inadvertent.

One day a couple of weeks later I was home from work about an hour earlier than was usual for me. Our apartment was on the top floor of a row house in the Sunset Park neighborhood of Brooklyn. It was one of thousands and thousands of more or less similar houses that had gone up all around the borough near the beginning of the century.

I opened the front door, went through a little foyer, and I was just at the threshold of the living room when I heard women's voices -- two of them, it seemed. I heard moans, little yips of pleasure, and softly spoken endearments.

For a second or two, I was confused; then I knew exactly what I would find. Our apartment had a railroad flat arrangement, with the parlor at the back, a middle room with no windows, and the bedroom at the front, facing the street.

I didn't hesitate, and I walked right into the bedroom. Ellen was lying face-up on the bed. She still had some of her work clothes on, but her jacket, pantyhose, panties, and shoes were on the floor. Her skirt was up around her waist.

Her best friend Doreen Hannity, was lying face down. It looked like she had come from work too, except that she was wearing gray trousers. Her white blouse and dark shoes were similar to what Ellen was wearing. The trousers and her panties were down around her knees, and I could see her compact little ass.

The main element of this scene was that Doreen's head was between Ellen's spread legs and she was eating out my wife's pussy. The latter was holding her lover's red hair and she was moaning loudly.

Some guys might have jumped in for a threesome, but I had a different plan that might be satisfying in its own way. It only took a moment for Ellen to notice me. "Oh my God." That was what people usually said in these situations, I supposed.

Doreen rolled over to Ellen's right side. She actually seemed fairly calm compared to the shocked look that my beloved spouse had. I got right into it, "Ellen, I told you what would happen if I caught you cheating again."

"But it's with another woman; that doesn't count."

"It certainly does count."

What was really bothering me was that she was again doing things behind my back. I hadn't even be invited for a three-way, although I probably wouldn't have felt comfortable with it anyway. The point was that Ellen was showing her disregard for me and it would only be a matter of time before she'd be doing it with guys again too. Only a little over two weeks had passed since my first warning and first attempt at punishment.

It was baffling why they were here instead of at Doreen's place a short distance away. Maybe it had started out as a platonic visit that had gotten hot and bothered.

Doreen suddenly said, "I'm going to go to the living room and have a cigarette." Yeah, Doreen, that seems like a good idea. She quickly got her clothes up and then she left the room.

Ellen had smoothed her skirt down and she was sitting against the headboard. I said, "You know that if you were unfaithful again, you were getting more than a hand spanking." She had actually liked that a little too much, I thought. "This time I'm going to take my belt out of its loops and whip your bare ass until it falls off."

"This is completely unfair, I haven't really done anything wrong."

"I just said this, girl-on-girl action does count. So get to the living room."

Ellen was soon in the parlor next to a roll-out bed that doubled as our sofa. I was surprised that Doreen was so relaxed while sitting across the room finishing her cigarette. I wasn't sure why she hadn't left yet. I could have told her to just go, but something made me decide against it.

I looked over at Doreen. What, does this chick want to watch? I caught her look and tried to decipher her expression, but I couldn't. Then a thought came to me about what to do about her. It seemed outrageously implausible but it was worth trying it.

"Doreen, you are responsible for this too. Get over there next to Ellen and take some discipline too."

Ellen was livid, "What kind of crazy stunt are you trying to pull? That's my best friend!"

However, Doreen sort of contradicted her. She calmly said, "I accept my responsibility in all this and I know I need to be punished too."

I said, "This is how it's going to go. First one, then the other, is going to get my belt applied across the ass, clothes up. Then the next phase is a session on the bare behind. Pants are coming down for that."

Ellen said, "This is outrageous. How dare you whip us?"

"It's that way or the highway. I'll be gone so fast it will make your head spin." I didn't mention the $300 per month rent (about $850 in today's money, but with the run-up in New York real estate, surely more than that). I meanwhile could look for another $180 apartment like the one we had just left. That would be $510 today but, again, really far more than that.

Actually, I didn't want to go through the hassles of moving now that I had just gotten here. It seemed that this one-off kerfuffle with the belt would solve all of my problems and Ellen would finally settle down.

It was time to instruct Ellen. "Okay, honey, this is the plan. Bend over and put your hands on the bed." This pull-out bed was also our sofa. There was a big mirror right there on the wall, so she was going to watch herself get spanked. She complied with my instructions even if she didn't like them.

And damn if Doreen didn't put out her cigarette and go over to bend next to Ellen. Now I was in girl-spanking heaven. Ellen was tall and fairly heavy-set. Her hair was dark enough to be almost black, but her skin was quite fair. If one liked big round asses -- and I did -- then Ellen was your go-to girl. I saw her bottom pushing up against the back of her tight skirt.

Her feet were bare, as she had left her shoes and pantyhose in the bedroom. I didn't know where her panties were.

Doreen was also tall, but she was much more slender. Her reddish hair went with her Irish background. Her behind was tight and compact, and it was also pushing against the seat of her tight trousers. I had noted that both Ellen's skirt and Doreen's pants had zippers in the back. Those would be handy when preparing for the bare-assed portion of these proceedings.

It was time to get started. I took my belt out of my pants loop and walked over to them. I thought I should mess with their heads a bit, especially regarding Ellen.

I said, "I see we have one big and one little pair of buttocks here." I liked saying the word buttocks. "You're both going to get equal treatment."

Ellen was already pissed-off, and now I had really triggered her. "You're a sick, sadistic little mother-fucker."

I ignored her. "I can see that the skirt and the pants you two have on are pretty lightweight and aren't going to give you much protection."

"How dare you whip my best friend? In fact, how dare you whip me?"

"First of all, Ellen, my sweets, you have richly earned it. In fact, last time I didn't adequately punish you for your misdeeds over the previous four months. As for Doreen, she's willing volunteered to take her discipline."

Ellen said, "You are a total asshole, a twisted little jerk." However, I noted she stayed in position. There was nothing restraining her from just getting up and leaving. We both knew I didn't have the strength to force her back.

"I think I'll give you both twelve over the clothes." I did some quick arithmetic in my head. I could break into segments of four each but that seemed unnecessarily complicated. Instead I said, "Each of you ladies is getting batches of six, in turns."

Ellen said, "No, you won't. I'm going to say our safe word straight off." Actually it was two safe words, tuna salad.

"This is a punishment; there is no safe word. Besides, it's just a belt. It will hurt, but you'll live." I swished it through the air just so they could hear the sound it made.

She just couldn't shut up, "How would you like a belt across your own ass?"

That was something else to ignore. I had the belt doubled up, and I tapped it against Ellen's ass. She flinched. I said, "Since you're my better half, you're the first one up."

She seemed truly anxious now, "Please, don't do this to me."

Without any warning, I swung the belt and caught her across both cheeks, and then I quickly did it again. Each time, and indeed for the rest of the session, I really lifted up my implement and brought it down hard on both of them.

Ellen yelled loudly with the first two, something like, "Ow-w-w." She bent at the knees.

"Jesus Christ, that fucking hurts."

"Get back into position." Where had I heard that phrase? She struggled up and I quickly struck her again. All through this first stage she made quite a fuss, yelping and bouncing around.

I moved over, "Doreen, are you ready?" She just nodded. Her expression in the mirror seemed to be one of stoicism. I actually liked her, and I was uneasy about doing this to her. I looked over at Ellen, who had grabbed her own ass and was rubbing it

Despite my misgivings, I went ahead and gave Doreen six strokes across the seat of her trousers. She winced and moaned, but she was not nearly as dramatic as my wife had just been.

The next round went in a similar fashion, with Ellen getting quite worked-up and Doreen wincing but being calmer overall. Then I decided that it was time to give all of us a quick break. I was breathing heavily and I noticed that I had an erection. Last time I had also gotten a boner while spanking Ellen, with some unpredictable results.

Ellen had more complaints, "Where did you get the bizarre idea of having us in front of the mirror so that we could watch our own beatings?"

Actually, it had probably been inadvertent, but I thought I didn't owe her explanations.

"Okay, girls, it's bare ass time."

Ellen said, "You can't be serious."

"I already said it was going to go that way."

"How many are we getting this time?"

Even I didn't know; I hadn't planned that far ahead. "We'll see."

"We'll see? What kind of bullshit is that?"

I stepped up to her and undid the zipper on her skirt. She indeed did not have her panties on. As I lowered her skirt and saw her bare behind, she quietly said, "Oh my God."

The skirt dropped below her knees. "You might as well step completely out of your skirt. It will just get in the way." She complied.

It would have been unseemly, I thought, to touch Doreen's clothes. "Doreen, I think you know what to."

After she had lowered her pants and her panties, I said, "Why don't you too take those off completely too?" and she did. Now all she had on below her waist were her shoes and her knee-high nylon stockings. Amazing how readily she had bared her body for me. What is her game here? But there was something else more notable to mention about both of them.

"I'm impressed at how vivid the red marks on you two are."

Ellen commented, "What the hell did you expect?"

"I didn't know what to expect, because I've never done this before."

"And yet you don't even know how many we're getting."

"As I already said, I haven't decided yet." Actually, I probably was going to do a ten and ten pattern this time, for a total of thirty-two from start to finish, but I didn't tell her that.

"You have absolutely no right to . . ."

Rather than respond to her, I just stepped forward and went into it again with her. In this bare bottom phase, she did even worse than before. She soon collapsed flat on the bed. Rather than order her back up, I just struck her in the position she had fallen into. There was a lot of noise and writhing around from her.

Doreen had patiently waited during Ellen's ordeal, only glancing to her left occasionally. Then I gave her the first bare-bottom ten. As before, she reacted, but not with Ellen's level of drama.

I said to my wife, "All right, get your butt up again." She might not have wanted to, but she did it anyway. I was keeping track of the count, and after twenty-four through twenty-six she fell to her knees. She was gasping and seemed to be on the verge of sobbing.

"Okay, it's time to stop with you. You seem to be crying."

She said bitterly, "No, I'm not. No pathetic little asshole like you can break me."

"Okay, okay, I get it. Doreen, you're just getting four more to even it out." I saw her give the slightest nod of her head.

After those, I saw that her legs were quivering, and I knew I had gone far enough with her too. I threw the belt down and said, "Now you two stay there as you are. This is like corner time. I'm getting a drink, so I'll be right back."

They had both grabbed themselves again and they were rubbing their own asses. The only thing in the fridge was beer, so I took one of those. I went back into the parlor and sat down opposite them.

"Ellen darling, you have the most magnificent behind I have ever seen. It is impressive in all three dimensions."

"Fuck you." She seemed to be running of clever insults.

"It used to be so pale, but it's not anymore. There's an interesting pattern of red stripes across you."

"You just beat my ass to a pulp."

"That's an exaggeration. You got a few bruises maybe; they'll go away soon. No permanent damage. You'll be swinging that big booty of yours around again in a few days."

"You bastard." That also seemed kind of meager for one of her jibes at me. I suspected she was trying to regain some control of the situation but didn't know how to do it.

Doreen glanced back at me. Is she really bemused, or am I imagining it? Then I made up some nonsense to say to Ellen. "I'm still your husband and you will submit to me as I request." Man, I can really sling this dominant bullshit. Even I didn't really believe what it was saying.

Ellen didn't get the tongue-in-cheek angle. "What is this, 1850? Where are you getting this chauvinistic bullshit from?"

I considered getting up and giving her a few hand smacks to reinforce the point, but I realized that this particular session was over. Whatever I had done so far would have to suffice.

I suddenly wondered about Doreen. Had she gotten aroused in the same way that Ellen had with the previous hand spanking? I wished I could verify that. But there was going to be no funny stuff on my part with her, no soothing ass rubs and definitely no pussy fondling to check on her lubrication status.

I saw Ellen's face in the mirror. She was glowering at me, keeping track of what I was doing. She suddenly stood upright, grabbed her skirt from the floor, and started leaving the room, "I'm not putting up with this crap. I'm getting out of here tonight."

I had thought of saying, get back into your corner-time position, but that had become moot in an instant. My opportunity for a more post-spank chiding, a kind of sum-up, had been lost. I could see through the middle room of our railroad flat to the front bedroom. Ellen was going through the dressers up there looking for clothes.

She saw me and called back, "Don't look at me; sit on the couch or something." I thought it was rather presumptuous of her to be issuing orders, so I didn't do as she had said.

I wondered if I had gone too far; maybe I should have just let this whole thing slide. It wasn't clear if I had saved the marriage or even if I had wanted that. It didn't seem that I could ever trust Ellen again.

Doreen was bent over, still in place. I couldn't help but have explicit thoughts about her. She certainly has a cute little pussy; I'm glad I got the chance to see it. I said, "You took it all rather well."

"Does that mean I'm a good girl now?"

I got that she was kidding me, and I laughed. "Come on, that's enough. Get your pants back on."

As she did that, she said, "Mind if I have a smoke?"

"Go ahead, you already had one; be my guest." When she was ready, she gingerly lowered herself into a chair by the dining room table.

In a few minutes, Ellen was back. She had a shopping bag that I assumed contained some items of clothing. Her shoes and jacket were back on, but not her stockings.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to stay with my parents." They lived in Manhattan.

I called her bluff, if that was what it was, "Shouldn't you at least take a real suitcase?"

"I can't be bothered to pull one out. Anyway, I've got to call for a car."

It was always hard to catch a yellow cab in that part of Brooklyn, so everybody depended on car services. The subway was right at the corner, but it was a rolling slum and we only used it during rush hours to get to and from work.

After she had placed the call she went back to the front to look out the window. When the car was there she left the apartment without saying anything further. So, for the moment at least, she wasn't bluffing.

When she was gone, I looked at Doreen, who was just finishing her second cigarette. I asked, "So what do you think of the future of this marriage?"