The Boys and Girls are Watching Ch. 06byAlfamann©
I had been cleaning the house this morning when I discovered a packet of cigarettes hidden behind some books. The packet of cigarettes was unopened, and Francesca maintained they had been there for several weeks; however she also knew she had broken one of our golden rules of no alcohol or cigarettes in the house.
"Will you punish me now?" she pleaded.
It was only mid morning, and I could see she was trying to avoid the shame of being spanked in the evening when Olivier was going to be home. I shook my head to indicate there was no way, and to Francesca's credit she did not pursue the matter further.
In the early evening after Paula turned up for dinner I noticed Francesca nibbling nervously on her finger nails. She knew that the likely audience watching her punishment had increased by one more. It was probably small consolation that Dave was not with her.
For dinner we had a traditional French meal of moules and frites (mussels and fries) which is one of my favourites. It would have been even more enjoyable with a nice glass of white wine to wash it down, but that was one of the necessary sacrifices with a recovering alcoholic living under our roof. After the meal Paula and Francesca cleaned up while I took Abigail to bed and went through the routine of reading books with her that she had already heard or read a hundred times previously. Amazing how kids never tire of hearing their favourite stories.
When I was sure Abigail was asleep I quietly retreated, closing her door and rejoining the others downstairs who were just making a coffee. Francesca looked at me nervously, not sure whether she was meant to leave or stay. I beckoned for her to enjoy her coffee first. She might well have wanted to get the punishment over and done with, but I was in no hurry to get it dispensed with. It would give her more time to reflect on her behaviour and the upcoming spanking.
We chatted away over coffee and Francesca did her best to be her normal extrovert self but you could sense the tenseness in her voice. Once coffee was finished she glanced over at me with her beautiful deep blue eyes and I nodded my head indicating it was time. Silently she stood up and left the room. Neither Olivier nor Paula had noticed the non-verbal exchange and where taken by surprise when Francesca stood and left the room. The conversation stopped and their eyes followed her out of the room. They then both briefly glanced at me before attempting to resume the conversation but one could sense the air of anticipation, certainly from Paula. I found it a little harder to gauge what my husband was feeling. He has often praised me on how well his Step-mother is progressing but never, ever said much about the punishment sessions.
When Francesca re-entered the room she was wearing her night robe. She walked straight over to stand in front of Paula, Olivier and myself who were all seated in the lounge chairs.
She bravely looked me directly in the eyes. "I am really sorry for having the cigarettes in the house and I know I deserve to be punished."
With that she untied the cord of her robe and with a shrug of her shoulders it fell to the ground revealing her near perfect body. Now that she was eating healthily and had stopped abusing her body with alcohol and cigarettes her skin was firmer and more vibrant, making her naked appearance even more beautiful. Without being asked she placed her hands on her head, making no attempt to hide her breasts or her neatly trimmed pubic hair. I don't believe she was trying to flaunt her beauty in front of us, but rather she wanted her shame to be complete. I left her standing in this position for several minutes.
"Open your legs," I quietly requested.
Francesca grimaced but did as I requested, opening her legs about two feet apart. I knew that opening her legs would increase the vulnerability she was feeling, knowing that just a little more of her private anatomy was revealed to all three of us. With her pubic hair neatly trimmed so short the bottom of her labia were revelled, with the point of her clitoris just visible. It may have increased her humiliation, but to us onlookers it just enhanced her overall beauty. I made her hold that position for what must have seemed like an eternity to her.
Finally I slid forward in my chair and patted my lap, indicating for her to get into position for her spanking. Silently she folded her nakedness over my thighs, positioning her buttocks high in the air. I spanked her slowly but hard, alternating between each buttock. With the experience I had gained from spanking both Francesca and Paula I felt more confident about how hard to spank and where to spank on the buttock for maximum impact. It was not long before Francesca was sobbing deeply, and although her body jumped when my spank impacted she made no attempt to protect herself or roll off my knee. I couldn't help but admire her inner fortitude.
When I was finished Francesca quickly stood and furiously rubbed her flaming red backside. At the same time she was doing a little dance and tears rolled down her face. Finally she composed herself, stoically turning to me and thanking me for punishing her before picking up her robe and leaving the room. When I glanced over at Olivier and Paula I almost laughed as both were just staring ahead, stunned, almost as if they disbelieved what they had just witnessed. They almost looked like they were hypnotised and I had to break their trance by offering them a coffee. Little did they know that their night of witnessing the unbelievable was far from over. It had been eating away at me that I was keeping secrets from Olivier about what had been happening in Francesca's room in the middle of the night, and I would never forgive myself if he discovered by accident. I had not intended to tell Paula but since she happened to be here I felt I might as well reveal all.
After fetching the coffee for Paula and Olivier I briefly left them and walked down the hall to the bathroom where Francesca was. As I entered she had washed her tear-streaked face and was already looking more composed. She looked up at me curiously from the hand basin.
"The boys and girls are coming tonight and your brothers have told them it is going to be very special. So make sure you are all ready for them when they arrive."
Francesca just stared at me, her deep blue eyes as wide as saucers. She started to protest but I put a finger over her lips to stifle whatever she was about to say and then departed the bathroom.
On returning to the lounge I grabbed my coffee and sat down beside Olivier and Paula.
"Now, listen you two, I have a confession to make."
Paula's put her hand over her mouth to stifle her gasp. I realised that Paula thought I was going to confess to Olivier that I have been spanking her. I would need to tell Olivier at some time, but right now I wanted to unburden something a little closer to home.
I continued. "There is a part of Francesca's therapy that you are not aware of."
Olivier raised his eyebrows. "Knowing you and your approach to therapy I am almost too afraid to ask what it might be."
"Well, yes, it is a little...unusual," I confessed. "It happens at night when Francesca is in bed. She has a dreadful time trying to relax and get to sleep."
"Good heavens, woman, you don't spank her in bed as well," Olivier gesticulated with his hands as he spoke in that typical French manner.
"No, I don't spank her. It is something she likes to do to help her relax and beat the demons in her head. She has these unusual....fantasies," I was actually too embarrassed to just come straight out and say it. I wasn't sure how my husband would react if I just blurted out that I helped his mother masturbate herself while she had childhood visions of the neighbourhood kids watching her. I decided to take the approach that actions speak louder than words.
"Come with me, and please, keep an open mind. This is what Francesca wants, and I believe it is helping positively in her rehabilitation." I tried to sound like I was some sort of expert on this. 'Trust me, this is tried and proven therapy, so don't be alarmed if it seems a tad deviant in nature!'
I tapped lightly on Francesca's bedroom door before the three of us entered. Paula had no hesitation in coming in and was clearly very keen to see whatever was going to unfold. Olivier, not surprisingly, was somewhat more reluctant to enter his Stepmother's bedroom, so I held his hand and almost pulled him in. Francesca was lying prone on the bed, looking more than just a little nervous. Her blankets had been pushed down to the end of the bed, but she had pulled a sheet up to cover her body. Her bedside lamp was turned on. The three of us stood beside her bed.
"The boys and girls have arrived, Francesca." I tried to sound soothing. "What do you think they have all come to see?"
For a long moment Francesca's eyes remained fixed on the wall at the end of her bend, then slowly she turned to face us.
"My body?" she whispered, sounding every bit a young teenage girl.
"Yes, your body that is all nicely rounded and much more developed than the other girls. Most of the girls are only in training bras and don't have fully developed breasts like you, and they don't have a nice thick thatch of pubic hair like you do. And the boys have never been lucky enough to see a girl like you who is already a budding young woman."
Francesca blushed at my comments, but I could also see the faraway glazed look in her eyes that suggested she was slipping into her erotic fantasy.
"Take down your sheet."
Francesca lowered the sheet and kicked it down to the end of the bed with her feet. She was wearing a yellow knee-length nightie.
"You know what you have to do now. The boys and girls are waiting and are looking very excited."
Francesca lay motionless, before reaching down to the bottom of her nightie and very slowly sliding it up her body. She raised her buttocks so that it could slide underneath her and continued to pull it up until it was above her breasts and gathered at her shoulders. She lay there naked, unmoving. Her beauty was breathtaking.
Without being asked she bent her legs and let her knees fall open, totally revealing her vagina to the three of us. I could vividly see her labia were already swollen and moist, which gave me additional confidence to push ahead. I wanted to steal a quick glance at Olivier to see what his reactions were, but was afraid it would give him the opportunity to question what I was up to.
"All the boys and girls are struggling to get a good look at that pretty, well developed pussy of yours. Why don't you lift your hips off the bed so they can get a better view?"
Francesca arched her back and lifted her hips in the air. Her labia were that swollen they were already pulling apart, revelling the pink moist entrance of her vulva.
"Pull your lips apart and show them what your clitoris looks like. None of the boys will have seen one before, and the girls are so immature they probably don't even realise they have one."
Still with her hips forced upwards, Francesca's fingers moved to her vagina and she expertly flicked her clitoris, causing it to swell even further before our eyes. Using her other hand she prised her labia apart, and then squeezed her clitoris between two fingers before stretching it out. She held it revealed for all to see.
"They want to touch you, Francesca. They are desperately excited and want to touch you. Can they?"
Francesca nodded her head. She was flushed and beginning to sweat. There was no mistaking the excitement in her eyes. I sat on the bed beside her and ran my hand up and down her thigh several times before gently brushing her labia. Francesca was still holding them open while continuing to expose her clit.
I encircled her labia with my fingers several times then focused on the base of her stretched, engorged clitoris. I began to flick it with my fingers while she held it outstretched. Her hips began to rotate and her breathing was rapid.
"Listen to me Francesca."
Her flushed face turned towards me.
"You are going to have an orgasm for the boys and girls to see. But I don't want it to be a little girl's orgasm. I want it to be a young woman's orgasm. I want to see you pushing hard against my fingers. I want to see your pussy arched high in the air. And I want to see your tummy ripple as you push that orgasm right through your body. Do you understand me?"
Francesca nodded feverishly. She was ready to cum.
While continuing to flick her clit I slid two fingers of my other hand deep into her sopping vulva. Immediately Francesca began pushing hard against my fingers while at the same time raising her bucking hips even higher off the bed. She was very supple for a woman in her mid forties. As she began to grunt, I kept an eye on her tummy, which was moving up and down rapidly with her breathing. Then I was amazed to see her tummy muscles rippling and straining as her orgasm ripped through her body. She was doing as I had asked. She was working her body to make sure her orgasm was as visible as possible to those of us watching. Her pussy juices were running down my hand and making a damp spot on the bed.
Now, I have to be honest with you. I do find the sight of a woman having an orgasm incredibly erotic. The few porno movies that I have seen in the past have done little to turn me on, but the one part I always waited for was when the girl orgasms. Unfortunately sometimes they were fake, but the real ones certainly raised my temperature. But they were nothing compared to the sight of Francesca's very genuine, and very overt, orgasm. It was incredible.
Finally I turned to eyeball Paula and Olivier. Paula was flushed and her eyes were wide as saucers. She looked like a stunned mullet. Olivier also looked more than a little stunned by what he had just witnessed. I gave Francesca a quick kiss on the cheek, pulled her sheet up to cover her, and then ushered my two zombie companions out of the bedroom.
As I farewelled Paula she was still shaking her head in disbelief and mumbling words like 'amazing' or 'unbelievable'. I had not had an opportunity to speak to Olivier as the hospital had phoned to give him an update on one of his patients, so I undressed and climbed into bed. I was concerned as to how he was going to react to the scene that had just unfolded.
When he returned to our bedroom he silently undressed and climbed into bed beside me. I waited for him to say something but for a long while he just stared at the ceiling. I was just about to say something when I felt his hand rest on my thigh. Slowly he stroked my inner thigh and I willingly opened my legs slightly to give him access to my sexual epicentre. Until that moment I had not realised how sexually tense I was feeling and I prayed that he had more on his mind than just stoking my leg to give me reassurance. My prayers were answered when his fingers worked their up my thigh until they began to stroke my labia. It instantly sent small shocks through my body and I couldn't help but moan with pleasure.
"My god, you are soaking wet," Olivier muttered as he turned to look at me. "I think my Mother was not the only one to enjoy herself."
I blushed with shame. To be honest I had not realised just how aroused I was.
"And I thought I knew everything there is to know about my darling wife. You really have been full of surprises over the past weeks," Olivier continued. "So tell me, do all women have such strong sexual fantasies? I thought it was more of a men thing."
"Of course it is not just a men thing. What a typical male comment," I chided him with a big grin, relieved Olivier was far from upset at what he had witnessed.
"So....tell me what sexual fantasies my tall beautiful wife has running around in her head?"
"Let's not go there," I urged, pressing my vagina harder against his fingers to try and increase the stimulation that was beginning to drive me crazy.
But Olivier cruelly responded by pulling his hand away, causing me to moan again, but this time in displeasure.
"Yes, let's go there. I want to hear one of your fantasies. And I promise you there will be no satisfaction for you tonight until you play ball."
"Damn you," I chastised him. I was genuinely embarrassed by the thought of discussing my fantasies with him, but I was also highly aroused and desperately needed relief. "I guess one of my favourite fantasies is being tied up so a person can have there wicked way with my body and there is no way I can stop them. Being tied up is a common fantasy for woman," I added, as if in some way I was trying to reassure him that my fantasy was very mainstream and not at all deviant. Given my behaviour over the past few weeks it was probably a bit late trying to act pure as snow.
Olivier's response to my confessed fantasy was to gaze at me with a devious grin on his face. He then jumped out of bed and walked over to the scotch chest and rumbled around in one of the drawers. When he returned I noticed he had a number of my scarves in his hand. I immediately realised where this was leading
"No, Olivier," I muttered defensively, "It is only a fantasy. Fantasies should just remain as....fantasies."
"Is that so? I think Francesca's fantasies look very alive to me."
With that Olivier took one of my arms and tied it to the corner of the headboard with one of the scarves. "Olivier!" I protested, but despite my act of indignation I did not resist when he stretched my arm above my head and tied it.
He then moved to the other side of bed and secured my other arm to the opposite corner. He then took hold of the bed coverings and in one swift action pulled them from the bed. I was lying there naked with my arms secured above my head. I don't believe I have ever felt so vulnerable.
"Open your legs," Olivier commanded.
Despite my vulnerability I did not resist, and Olivier then went through the process of tying each of my ankles to the corners of the base board. I was now spread-eagled on my back and unable to move at all. I felt so exposed and so helpless, but damn I also had to admit to myself it felt incredibly erotic. Olivier then began to 'torture' me by lightly running his fingernails over my torso and under my arms, causing me to laugh and squirm, begging him to stop. Olivier knew I was incredibly ticklish and was enjoying seeing squirm and with no way of escape.
Suddenly there was a light knock on the door, followed by "Mummy."
My laughing and begging for mercy had obviously awoken our seven year old daughter, Abigail. Pandemonium erupted in the bedroom. I desperately indicated to Olivier to remove the ties but instead he just pulled the blankets up over me and threw the pillows over my extended arms so that the scarves were hidden. I looked at him, mortified, as he then left me there and went to the door to fetch Abigail.
As all parents will know, a sexual escapade with your partner when there are young children in the house is not always a good mix and can lead to embarrassing situations. Such as being tied spread-eagled to the bed when your husband brings your seven year old into the room.
"Give Mummy a cuddle and then I will take you into the kitchen for a hot milk."
Abigail jumped onto the bed and gave me a cuddle and a kiss. I couldn't move but fortunately she did not seem to notice. The two of them then retreated leaving me helpless in my bondage.
After what seemed an eternity, but was probably less than fifteen minutes, Olivier returned, and I noticed he had several lengths of rope in his hand.
"Look what I found?" he smiled gleefully.
"Oliver!" I protested.
"Abigail is in bed but I promised I would return and stay with her awhile until she is asleep. But before I go I just wanted to ratchet up your fantasy a few more knots, if you will excuse the pun."