To Marjorie's Infinite Satisfaction

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Jubilantly, "Good, little one! You will devote yourself to this. I expect to see real dedication from you. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Ms. Marjorie."

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Ironically and to his shock, he felt proud of himself. Later, the the light of day, this realization would haunt him.

She went on to spank gently for the longest time, not wanting him off her knee. They were together in the most intimate way. Spanking was how they harmonized with one another. In this way, they became one. In this way, Tim discovered significance.

So as to encourage her, "Thank you, Ms. Marjorie. Thank you for...helping me...showing me...teaching me."

Grinning: spank spank spank spank...

At last she stood him before her and sprung up herself. She better positioned them before the mirror. "Before you leave, I just want to see what you've learned, if anything. Look at us in the mirror. Describe what you see."

Marjorie shined brighter than ever. And she was letting him into her life. She felt a rush of energy and enjoyed the shiver up her spine that led naturally to goose bumps and hard nipples. She actually felt her hair almost standing up. She was not sure she ever looked better.

She was wearing a simple cotton dress which he just now thought strange as she was still sweaty from her run. She wore no bra beneath it and her hard, perky nipples stood out visibly through the damp, clinging fabric of her dress. She glistened. She smiled. She looked self realized and composed. She was a woman.

She's a Continuant Woman.

She was in fact, at the moment a very proud, superior Continuant Woman. And her sense of superiority was well earned and deserved. It was not a false arrogance, it was wholly appropriate to the moment and born of achievement.

He felt violated and ruined. He felt impotent and viewed apart from her, insignificant. He felt absolute spiritual defeat. He was not sure what of his previous self had survived. As well, his spiritual ruination, impotence and defeat were all quite clear to see in countenance and posture.

Never could he imagine standing naked with slumped shoulders and hard cocked next to a clothed woman whom he adored, whom he was falling in love with. He was in love with her and she was stunning as she rested her hand on his hot ass, handling him intimately and humiliatingly at will. It was so surreal and other worldly. He was most ashamed of the tears, the nudity and that big, telling, hardon.

What's wrong with me? Why does my body do this?!? How can she do this to me? Why do I let her?

He was beyond humbled and deep down he knew he could never recover the dignity he'd lost, he'd never again be the person he had been.

He looked frightened while she looked confident.

He looked broken while she looked exultant.

She looked like a woman but he looked like a boy. He looked like a small, weak, teary faced, little boy. He was an Ascendant boy.

Who am I?

She slapped him across the face and did not even try to hide the pretty joy in it. Smiling, "I asked you to describe what you see. Do I need to slap you again? I will..." she added hopefully.

"You are so pretty. You look incredible!"

She now wanted him to be attracted to her and it felt good.

Little boys have crushes on grown women all the time. Certainly nothing wrong with that.

She especially liked that he thought this of her when she was sweaty to the point of sticking to her dress, wore no make-up (not that she wore much anyway) and looked disheveled. She especially liked that these were the first words out of his mouth after she bitch slapped him hard across the face.

Look at me, Im a slapper! Apparently I'm a very pretty slapper.

She smiled on.

"I...I like you so much Marjorie. And I...I respect you like...like crazy!" The feelings and ideas were flashing at him and he knew he sounded like and idiot.

But maybe that's what love does to you?

"I...I look like...I look like a boy. I mean...I am a boy. When you are like...when you are like a woman. I mean like...like a grown up. You look like a...grown woman, like a grown up next to a little boy. I'm sorry."

Marjorie was elated. She was teaching a Ascendant. She was actually showing him what he was to her. He now saw himself the way she saw him.

Yes, when I get to spank him, it's like I am putting my thoughts and values into his head! I really can teach him!

She felt every bit as pretty as she looked.

"Good boy, Tim. See, now you are getting it. Oh my goodness, I'm so proud of you! That's exactly right! I really am helping you to understand. I hope you are grateful for that.

"And you are right: I am a woman. I am responsible, I see to things, I take care of business. I am in control of myself. And I see and understand the world as a grown up. You are nothing but a little boy." As she said the last, she looked from his eyes to his rigid penis. With obvious contempt, "And you clearly have no control of yourself.

"And you're sorry. Good. You should be. But not sorry enough. We will continue to work on this.

Marjorie could not have stopped smiling if she wanted to. She was absolutely amazed.

God, look what I've done!

She gathered his boxers and jeans and sat back down. "Come here." She held out his underwear by the waistband the way a mother would while assisting her little boy when getting him dressed. He stepped into them gingerly, touching her shoulder lightly for balance and not wanting to anger her. She pulled them up and he could not have felt more juvenile. She did the same for his jeans.

"From now on, you answer to me. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes, Marjorie. And I'm sorry."

She could identify no obvious reason for his apology but she liked it. It was what the overly submissive and deferential women in her office said all the time to the men to whom they'd committed no offense. Marjorie knew it was what they said to maintain the equilibrium. It said to all the alphas:

I know you are above me and I'm below you. I know my place and am content with it. My place is beneath you. You belong above me and I am, and should be beneath you, under you. I'm your under-girl. I am in no way a threat to you or anybody. Please don't hurt me.

She knew they were mostly not afraid of physical violence and it was more about not being seen as any kind of emotional or professional threat. It was incredibly obsequious and often irritated her. It did not irritate her now in the least. She rather liked it.

Yes, you are beneath me. You are my under-boy. Know your place, little boy...or I might slap you. Or I might turn you over my knee for a spanking. It might hurt. Poor you.

"Well, okay then."

***

Serious self examination was now an impossibility for Tim. He thought he'd had a sense of himself, especially his own self worth but he now knew nothing. He began to retreat from the world and distanced himself from friends. He went to work, he worked out and he went home. And he hated himself.

Constantly his head swirled with thoughts and images of his failings and inadequacies. Sometimes he focused on the spankings.

I let her spank me! Why did I let her do that? Why do I let her? Now I have to?

And that led to his profound sense of impotence because he knew he could not stop her.

She's too strong.

Far worse was the unrecognized fear that she might stop spanking him. Though he refused to look at this fear, he nonetheless felt acutely trapped. He'd stepped in his own bear trap and now she was circling him, nipping and tearing at him.

Other times he focused on the crying.

Oh my god, I'm a grown man and I cry in front of her. Not just that, she makes me cry. Makes me. Because of her. I don't cry! Who cries? Cry-Babies cry; that's who, cry-baby.

Other times he focused on how aroused he got from it all. He wanted to write it off as simply his overwhelming attraction to Marjorie but he knew this was way too simple of a perspective to be true.

I'm a pervert; she said so. It's true.

He saw himself objectively in his mind's eye. She spanked him over her knee and as he yelped, squirmed and cried, his erection smashed into her leg.

Flash: he was standing before her as she sat in the spanking chair. She was fully clothed, composed and dignified as she waggled her finger up and down right in his face while she continued to verbalize her disappointment with him. He stood before her totally naked, bottom beat red and all but steaming with heat, tears streaming down his face and his penis rock hard, saluting her.

I'm always hard for her but the spanking and how she treats me has so much to do with it. She treats me like a little boy and all I can do in self defense is to get hard for her!

He reasoned that he got aroused because he deserved to be spanked because of how weak he was. Of course this did not make a lot of sense but he was stuck in a thought loop and felt powerless to get out of it. And no therapist would ever disavow him of such thoughts as his life now pointed in only one direction. For him, there was only one answer.

Marjorie was perfection, she was a goddess.

And look at me.

For him, there was only self loathing.

So he retreated from the world. Ironically he came alive when Marjorie reached out. Though terrified of her, he still loved her. He was powerless not to. In fact, he came to realize he lived for her call. Marjorie gave Tim purpose and she alone put vitality back into his life.

***

"Okay, I found the perfect thing!"

Marjorie was much cooler than Bethany. Always had been and always would be. Bethany was far more excitable, more insistent and more demonstrative. Politically, they were cut from the same cloth. She was raised properly by real Porschians as was Marjorie. She was Marjorie's oldest and best friend and she could be trusted.

The best thing about Bethany being in on it was that she made Marjorie feel less obsessive about her special friendship with Tim.

***

"I said I would not say anything."

"I know, but you still have to promise," replied Marjorie.

"Oh my god," she responded with exasperation, "I 'promise' not to tell anybody. Now what are you dying to tell me?"

Marjorie laughed because her friend was right: Marjorie was dying to tell her secret to Bethany. She had not looked at it in starkly honest terms, but it was true.

"Okay, but you are going to think it's weird..." Marjorie was not certain Bethany would judge her, but she wanted to preempt any judgment by preparing her friend. If she prepared her for the most shocking, then if Bethany found what Marjorie was about to share with her less than shocking, well then, she might just appreciate it.

"Get over yourself! You may recall, I know you. You are not going to shock me, Little Miss Marjorie. If anything, you are going to bore me if you don't share. Spill it. And for the record, you are not exactly the shocking type. I'm more the shocking type."

"I...I...I sorta hit this guy. I mean like...I slapped him."

Genuinely taken aback, she looked at her girlfriend queerly, "Why I declare," affecting her best Scarlet O'Hara impersonation, "I believer you just might of shocked me." More seriously, "What are you talking about? Why would you hit your guy. Keith? You like Keith. And did you break up? Confused. Explain."

Smiling, Marjorie was nervous. She told herself she'd done nothing wrong, but she also knew that what she was doing could be pretty easily misunderstood. "It was not Keith, it was the other guy."

"The guy you kissed before you started seeing Keith? My god, Marjorie, first you date nobody and now you are the 'It Girl.' And you hit him? Why?"

"And I did not really hit him...more like I slapped him...so you know, like, it really was not bad."

They'd grown up watching plenty of films and tv shows depicting women slapping inappropriate men. It was okay because women were smaller and the men had it coming. Sometimes a slap was good. It was unquestioned and they liked it that way. A man slapping a woman was a whole different thing and neither would tolerate it anywhere in their world.

Bethany took a steady breath and smiled, "Okay, girl, it's time to tell me what we are talking about. Why did you slap him? Did he try to hurt you? Was he getting handsy? God, I hate when guys do that! Well, sometimes it's okay, depends..." she smiled.

"Like if he's cute enough?" Marjorie laughed.

"Maybe," her friend responded with a coy smile.

Marjorie felt she needed to justify this really quickly so that Bethany's snap judgment did not obscure her better judgment.

"He's an Ascendant. Way worse than that actually. He's a loud mouth Ascendant. Like at first, I had no idea he was this way. He was in my house and I was making him dinner and he just went off in the most horribly rude and obnoxious way about Potts."

"So you slapped him? Oh my god! Really? Like a real slap?"

"A-huh."

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! You are my hero!" The two felt the same about politics and culture. They were done with Ascendants. "Tell me everything! Totally dying for every detail!"

Marjorie described Tim's rambling, mean spirited, nonsensical anti-Potts tirade.

"Oh my God, Marjorie! In a way, it really was an attack...like he was attacking you in your own home with the most offensive ideas and words..."

"Right?" Marjorie encouraged.

"Totally! Like emotional abuse. God, and in your home! It's bad enough that we sometimes have to put up with that stuff out in the world, but in your personal space! That's like domestic violence."

"Preach, sister."

"So what happened? What did he do?"

On this run, she left it at slapping. She felt like the whole story was too much to tell all at once. She wanted Bethany to sit with her disclosure and just feel it all out. She knew she was feeling Bethany out as much as herself. There was so much about what she was doing with Tim that made her uncomfortable, it was challenging to just think about let alone discuss.

Bethany's response helped a great deal as she trusted Bethan's objectivity and judgment. Bethany clearly loved what she'd told her and Marjorie could tell she was trying to temper her excitement over the whole story.

This anchored Marjorie more than she could have imagined. What she was doing with Tim was so weird and the fact that she got turned on by it was beyond unsettling. The really weird thing about that was that it made her upset with Tim and that only made her want to take it out on him some more.

*

The next day, Marjorie told her the rest of the story.

Stopping in the middle of the run, "I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! I knew you were holding back! You always do this! I'm always waiting for part two."

Marjorie smiled. After so many years, her bestie knew her so well.

The two confided in one another on almost all things. And they had their lurid stories, though Bethany had far more than Marjorie since Marjorie got married to an older man right out of over-school. Yet they always went through a song and dance as a prelude to full disclosure. In this way, they found ways to make their licentious cravings seem somehow appropriate. Together they formulated a perspective that made their actions reasonable and sometimes even noble.

"Oh my god...I don't know what to say! 'This is amazing!' seems totally inadequate. Last night after our run, I could not stop thinking about what you did! I love you so much! Like, I love that you slapped him! Perfect." Her response was joyous. Suddenly wondering if it was all too good to be true, "Really? I know you too well to think you were pulling my leg...but really?"

Smiling, "Yes, really. Totally not pranking." Pranking simply was not Marjorie's style.

"You spanked him. Or...or...or you spank him?" Bethany was all excitement.

"I don't know if I quote, spank him, but I have, yes. I've done it like a few times now."

"Do you love it more than like...everything? Oh my god, that must be satisfying! One word comes to mind: Justice!" Other words came to mind too, but her focus remained on the rightness of it all.

"It's weird but...yes, I kind of like it." Marjorie's face went red with the admission. "I think I more than like it actually." Bethany more than liked it too. "And It feels right. You said, 'satisfying' and that's a great word for this. I can't even begin... You know, like it's a fundamentally good thing. Does that make sense?"

"Oh my god, yes! Like, really good! And if he keeps allowing you..."

"Right, like he gets it too. Like he knows he deserves it."

Like Marjorie, Bethany chose to focus in on it all as a civic duty. Though she chose not to acknowledge it, arousal swirled and caressed her whole being.

This was not so uncommon for the two as they shared their sometimes questionable adventures. One would reveal a detail and the other showed support knowing their was more to the story. Or, she'd get some sort of discouragement, never overly judgmental, to which she'd stop the revelation. Way more often than not, they'd prompt one another with enthusiasm in order to get the whole story. They were well practiced in all the dance steps.

"He cries." She just let that hang while staring straight ahead and failing the keep the discomfort and pleasure off her face.

"What do you mean he cries?" This made absolutely no sense to Bethany; men don't cry.

Then again, do they get spanked?

She had difficulty maintaining the bigger context because she was vicariously discovering a parallel universe she had no idea existed. Without the context and detail she hungered for, the statement sounded silly.

She knew instantly that she wanted to if not live in this universe, at least learn all about it.

Marjorie felt suddenly shy about this revelation and did not know why. In a quiet voice, "I mean, I make him cry. Like when I spank him."

"Oh...My...God! Like cry for real? Like a little boy taking a spanking sort of crying?"

With a restrained smile, "Yeah."

"I love you! I love you so much! God you rock!"

Looking down, Marjorie smiled. And Marjorie loved her friend.

She really does get me!

This was a very uncomfortable place for Marjorie to be, so her friend's validation meant more to her than she could have imagined.

She did not want to sound like she was bragging, "After spanking him for a few minutes, he begins crying and kicking his legs. I might now be able to make him cry with just my words. I think I'm starting to have a really big influence on him."

"Oh my god, I can only imagine," Bethany responded dreamily.

"The crying is starting to get to me." Starting to laugh at how audacious the whole thing was, "It's like I can just break him and he gets so emotional. Like, yes, he's scared or intimidated by me. Love that. Like, sooooooo LOVE that part. But he is also, like...like I'm pretty sure he's falling in love with me."

What was shared was so audacious and profoundly exciting to the young women, little-girl giggles filled the spaces between sentences. They were simply giddy with it all as each marveled at what had been discovered and the new, unexpected realization of what could be.

"Like a little boy falling in love with a woman." Not very deeply buried was astonishment, profound envy and resignation.

"He's not said it, but it's so obvious. So he's intimidated by me and I get to spank him and then he gets all emoash and starts weeping." Lowering her voice, "Like...I like that."

She looked up and they locked eyes and in their Wonder Twin power way, silently communicated their tacit understanding. Her friend knew this was an extreme turn on for Marjorie and it turned Bethany on as well.

They'd not speak it aloud because to do so was not playing by their complicated rules. "Yes, I like it. Sometimes I like to remember how sassy he was in the beginning, then I spank him, and then he starts crying and falling totally in love with me. Too funny!"