Spanking Leads to Sex Ch. 02

"So, I want you to lift your skirt, pull your panties down to your knees, and bend across the table," I said more sternly, pointing to the kitchen table.

She seemed slightly surprised but did what I said. I hadn't caned her the other day, but now I was going to.

I reached into the closet where I had hung the paddle and cane. I picked up the cane and swished it in the air as she stayed bent over the table.

I laid it across her bare white bottom, drew it back, and began giving her cane strokes, not too hard but enough for her to feel the sting. I caned in a measured manner, enjoying making parallel lines on her bottom as I moved from just above the middle to the lower part of her bottom cheeks.

She began groaning, then moaning, as I applied the cane and must have been stinging her, so her bottom was hurting. I stopped after about ten strokes.

"That did hurt, Miss Susan," she said.

"You took it well," I answered. I felt between her legs, and she was wet.

"So does this turn you on?" I asked her.

"Yes, Miss Susan, I have to admit that it does," she confessed.

I took her in my arms and hugged her. She looked pleased that I had been warm toward her.

"Mom, had you been wanting to do it with Art before the other night," I followed up.

She blushed deeply and said she was embarrassed about what had happened, although she was aware that I knew about it.

I didn't intend to tell her about my recent intimate experiences with my brother, but I did ask her, "Do you want to keep doing it with him?"

Figuring that I was being sincere, she smiled and said, "If he'll have me, it makes me feel very good."

I told her that I had no problem with it. I was pleased she hadn't asked me about my activities in bed with Art or anyone else, for that matter. My current view is that the less she knows about my life, the better.

Late that night, I went to Art's room, well after Mom had gone to bed. I had told her she no longer would have an early bedtime and she thanked me profusely.

Art was in a funny mood.

"Sue, I hope you'll take this the right way," he started, cautiously. "I found myself getting aroused when you disciplined Mom. It wasn't so much your giving her what she deserved. I become excited when she spanks me. It's easier for me because she doesn't spank me as hard or as often. Would you take charge of me that way?"

I grinned at my brother and told that of course I would do what he wanted. I hoped this didn't mean our making out was over. Then I reminded myself: I was in control; he had asked me to discipline him.

"So, you want to submit to me?" I asked him, trying to gauge if he was for real.

He nodded that he did.

"Do you mean spanking and caning and all that, or domination in general, like in the bathroom?" I followed up.

"I like the idea of being over your lap," he began, "and if that works out, yes, I'd like to see what being caned is like. It sounds very severe."

"It is," I said. "You weren't here but I caned Mom this afternoon. It does hurt."

"I don't mind that if it turns me on," he said very openly. "I do like girls, Sue," he went on, "but I'm not ready to try any of this with them. I'm not sure I'll want it after the first time you discipline me. Is that OK?"

"Sure, Art," I answered. "Each step will be up to you. But once we start, I hope you'll stick it out and not end it before I do. As you can tell, I get something out of this too, so I appreciate your coming to me about it. I won't ever injure you beyond stripes on your bottom."

We both had a free day the next day, and Mom was scheduled to spend the day with her friends, shopping and lunching. I smiled at Art and said, "This is the way some people like to do this," I suggested. "Art, you have been a naughty boy. You will report to my room tomorrow at 10 in the morning."

I knew that would be in the forefront of his mind from now until 10:00 A.M. tomorrow. I felt myself getting wet right after I said it.

The next day, I slept in and then got up and showered. I did have coffee but then I got dressed. I picked out a crisp white blouse, a navy skirt, sheer hose, and pumps. I even put my long auburn hair into a bun, something I'd hardly ever done before. I wore a pale mauve bra which did show, but only slightly, through my blouse. I had plain cotton white panties on, but I didn't intend to have him see those, at least while I was disciplining him.

Art knocked on my bedroom door promptly at 10. I told him in a loud voice to come in. He was wearing his usual outfit -- tan chinos, a sport shirt that buttoned down the front, and tennis shoes.

"You know why you're here," I began, very stern. "You've been very naughty so now you are going to be disciplined. Take down your trousers and your underpants."

After he did that, I tapped my lap and he picked up the obvious signal for him to get across my lap. As he was doing that, I saw that he was already quite hard and erect.

I sat with my skirt just high enough so that when he lay down, I could catch his cock between my thighs and press them together to hold it there.

He sensed that I had done that but did not say anything. I patted his bottom and rubbed his cheeks a bit and then delivered a hard slap. I felt his surprise as he groaned but did not move. I then began spanking him in earnest, alternating cheeks and gradually speeding up the pace as well as the strength of the spanks.

I didn't spank him all that long and his bottom was just getting rosy. I told him to stand, and I saw that he was dripping a little and that some of it had gone on the tops of my thigh-hi hose.

I pointed to the stains on my hose to Art, mostly to see how he'd react. He apologized immediately and abjectly.

"Well, I do think that you do deserve a stroke or two with the cane for that," I responded coldly.

He looked into my eyes to see if I was putting him on, but I wasn't disposed to cut him slack right now. I pointed to the table where my mother had not long before grasped the far side and spread her legs well apart for the cane.

Art looked less pleased now, but he did what he was told. I stood behind him, now holding my cane and swished it a couple of times for effect. I was being a bit mean but after all, he was here to see what spanking and caning were like. Then I placed the cane across his bared rosy bottom, drew it back, and fired a stroke.

He yelped, out of surprise at how it immediately hurt and then at the lingering sting it produced. I drew the cane back once more and fired again. This time, he cried out, but I think was not willing to show himself a wimp by complaining.

I told him he had taken those strokes very well and as he rose, I grasped him, held him tight in my arms. I whispered that I was sorry if I had hurt him; I said I really hadn't intended to do that. He whispered back that he loved me, knew that I was showing him how this all worked, and wanted me to feel that I was helping him.

I smiled and then took him by the hand as we went to my bedroom. I proceeded to unbutton my blouse, unzip my skirt, and slip both off and place them on a chair. Then I beckoned him with my finger, and he came over, hugged me in my bra and pants, and unhooked my bra for me. He grasped my bare breasts, teased my nipples until they were hard, and then helped me roll down my hose as I shed my shoes. Finally, he reached down and lovingly lowered my red panties.

I stood there bared as he then quickly stripped out of his shirt and slacks. He slipped his shoes off, along with his socks, and I helped him pull his undershirt over his head. Then I put my thumbs in the waistband of his underpants, boys' Y-fronts, and lowered them until he stepped out of them.

We took each other in our arms, rolled onto the bed, and he was between my legs, licking and sucking my sopping cunt. I was in heaven now and welcomed him as he moved up and entered me, without any friction at all. We were truly together: I knew it was a singular occurrence, but it was a sweet one and I cherish it to this day.