The Best of Friends, Part 2 (F/M)

[socalswitchyguy]

© SoCalSwitchyguy@yahoo.com - all rights reserved. May not be re-posted or distributed without the express written consent of the author.

When we last left our friends Tom and Marsha, Tom had just finished giving Marsha a well deserved disciplinary spanking that left her bare bottom hot and tender and enabled her to experience the kind of cathartic emotional release they both knew she needed. While Marsha ended up being totally nude for her spanking, Tom was still clothed. However because Marsha was so "enthusiastic" about wanting to both thank Tom from the <ahem> "bottom of her heart" (so to speak) for the loving discipline he had just provided and because once Marsha's emotional release had passed, it didn't take long before they were both quite horny and Tom was as naked as Marsha and they relocated to Marsha's bed where they lovingly kissed and fondled each other's bodies.

We now pause for a brief note from the author: If you read the original chapter in this story, we kind of skipped over this part. But as the author, I claim Executive Privilege in adding plot elements and enhancing the storyline. If you don't like it, you or (if you're a guy and/or live out of the area) the single SoCal-based adult female of your choosing are welcome to spank me for my creative insolence. So there! Now back to the story.

Tom and Marsha were enjoying a quiet moment, snuggled together on the bed as Tom teasingly nibbled on her left nipple. "Does this mean you're going to spank me any time in the future you think I need it," queried Marsha.

Tom looked up from her breast and grinned. "What do you think?"

Marsha giggled, "I think my bottom is going to be getting a lot of attention from you from now on."

Tom reached behind her to squeeze both reddened cheeks with his hands and grinned big time as he said, "Yup" in his best Gary Cooper voice before kissing her torso from between her breasts down to her pussy and back.

Tom was a switch who not only loved to be spanked; there were times when he absolutely craved the feel of a burning bottom over a lovingly maternal lap to the point of bawling. He had met a number of toppy women who, on first encounter, considered themselves to b strictly bottoms, but over time had learned to let their Inner Dommes come out to play and enjoy having a man over their knees. He decided that the best way to get into a relationship with a woman who would spank him the way he wanted was to make sure she got all the spanking she wanted first, then ask her to return the favor. Part of that strategy was to play coy, teasing and slightly bratty when the topic of him being spanked came up.

"Tom?" He looked up. Did you mean that stuff about what's good for the goose is good for the gander?"

He smiled at the fact that she brought it up this time and looked her straight in the eye with his response. "It's only fair, don't you think?"

She returned his gaze. "More than fair. So when was the last time you were properly spanked? And when I say 'properly spanked,' I mean spanked the way you just spanked me."

"Do you really want to know?" Marsha nodded Yes and Tom did some rough calculations in his head. "It's got to have been at least two years I think."

"Sounds to me like I'm not the only one around here due a hot bottom. So tell me Tom... If you're going to be spanking me when I deserve it from now on, does this mean I get to spank you when you need it? I mean you said it yourself. Fair is fair after all."

Tom"s Inner Brat chose that very moment to take control of his tongue. "I dunno Marsh. I guess that depends on if you think you're woman enough to do the job. Are you?"

"Let's just find out, shall we?" With that, Marsha sat up on the bed and guided a naked and visibly turned on Tom across her equally naked lap. "I hope you're nice and comfy Tom, because that's a position you're going to find yourself in pretty regularly from now on."

"Yeah, yeah. Promises, promises," Tom's Outer Brat cheekily responded as he wriggled across Marsha's deliciously silky thighs when all of a sudden her hand sharply landed on his right butt cheek with the stinging impact of shattering glass. (No glass was actually injured in this story. It's all a metaphor. Or is that metafive?)

Marsha began to methodically slap Tom's bottom in a way that let him know in no uncertain terms that this spanking wasn't going to be any patty-cake playtime. "Not only did I spank my younger brothers when I babysat them, for a while in my 20's I worked as a professional dominatrix in Beautiful Bare Bottomed Burbank in an office right down the street from the Disney studios. You are not the first man I've turned over my knee and I think you'll find I'm more than "woman enough" to turn this sadly neglected bottom of yours hotter than the Easy Bake Oven® I used to play with when I was a little girl."

Marsha spent the next ten minutes demonstrating just how proficient her spank hand was at turning a bottom red and hot. "Thank you Tom," she said. "I've forgotten just how much I enjoy providing bare bottomed discipline. I do hope you're comfortable because you're going to be in that position for quite some time. After all, we've got over two spank-free years to make up for, don't we?"

"Uh, yeah. Okay Marsha, you've made your point. You're definitely woman enough to spank. Can I get up now? OwOwOWWWW!!!" Marsha landed a rapid flurry of swats to his upper thighs, just where they connected with his already red cheeks.

"Yes you may, dear Tom. But only because I want to get a few things to make the main part of your spanking that much more memorable. Now be a good boy and go stand in that corner for me, will you?" Something about Marsha's voice and demeanor convinced Tom that it was in his best interest (and especially the best interest in his already tender backside) to cooperate. He climbed off her lap and stood up on the floor with Marsha closely behind him.

Unfortunately, he also made the mistake of attempting to rub his already glowing backside. She immediately took him by the wrist, escorted him to a chair where she put her foot on the seat and quickly bent him over her thigh for a rapid flurry of spanks. It was then that Tom was tangibly reminded of how much more a spanking tends to hurt from a standing position versus lying over a lap. With her rule forbidding unauthorized tush rubbing now emblazoned in Tom's mind (and elsewhere), he submitted to his Corner Time with no further incident, other than the increasingly loud ticking of Marsha's wall clock as the seconds dragged by.

During this time, Tom could hear Marsha traipsing around in the kitchen, going through drawers looking for something. Actually it was several somethings. All intended to make Tom's first spanking from Marsha as memorable as possible. Before sitting back on the bed in preparation for the continuation of Tom"s spanking, she had him turn around and watch as she sensuously massaged a generous portion of soothing lotion on her own bare bottom, still red and tender from the spanking he had given her earlier that day. Then she had him hold out his hand so she could give him a good-sized dollop of lotion in one hand and a wad of Kleenex« in the other and immediately instructed him to masturbate in front of her.

"I want you completely focused on the next part of your discipline young man. And that means no distractions from that delightful erection you"re currently sporting. When I give you a "good boy" spanking, you can be as erect as you want. I'll even lend a hand to help you get there before taking you over my knee. But this is about discipline. So you spank that monkey before I spank your bottom." She grinned at her joke. Tom just stood there for a bit until she smacked his left thigh hard enough to leave a handprint. Although the impact softened his erection a bit, he closed his eyes and quickly brought himself back to attention (by remembering how delightful Marsha's breasts were to fondle and suckle) and fulfilled his mission with Kleenex« to spare.

Marsha brought him back to reality as she delicately plucked the soggy tissues from his hand and led him back across her lap for the next portion of his disciplinary debut. Once in position, she began plucking at clumps of his tush hair, working her way across his bottom as systematically as he did with her using his "Pinch Parade" technique. Once she had tugged at every hair on each cheek, she returned to the same territory pinching the flesh instead, just as he had with her. "Which do you like better little boy? The Pinch Parade or my game of Tug 'O Hair?" she gleefully queried. All Tom knew was that every nerve ending in his bottom had just become sensitive even to moving air.

"Now that we've got your bottom all nice and tender, I think it's time to give you your real spanking. You know in all seriousness Tom, that spanking you gave me was a genuine gift. I needed a stress release and your spanking enabled me to achieve that. I can tell through your body language that you need it at least as much as I did and if I have to keep you over my lap all night long, I"m going to spank this cute bottom of yours until you let go and have the kind of release we both know you need." As she lovingly rubbed his bottom, Tom felt increasingly safe and secure with her. Even though a part of him feared the physical discomfort he knew he was about to experience, another part of him craved it and looked forward to experiencing the kind of deep cathartic release he enviously watched Marsha enjoy when she was over his knee just an hour earlier.

While he was doing Corner Time a few minutes before, Marsha had brought some goodies into the bedroom from the kitchen. She took the first item off the nightstand - a rubber spatula - and began paddling Tom's tender nether cheeks with its flexible blade. "The nice thing about these spatulas," Marsha thought to herself, "is that they sting like blazes but don't leave any marks so I can spank him as long and as hard as I want."

And spank she did. She applied that spatula to every square centimeter of his bottom and upper thighs for a solid seven minutes. At two spanks per second, that added up to over 800 swats, though neither of them was counting. She could see his walls starting to crumble and knew it was time to up the ante. But first she reached into the small bowl she had brought over to the nightstand and pulled out an ice cube that she proceeded to rub all over his bottom and thighs.

The heat from the spank-reddened skin quickly melted the ice, which dribbled frigid water all over his scorched bottom, including the exceptionally sensitive area between the cheeks. In fact the ice melted so quickly that Marsha needed multiple cubes to properly cool his bottom - at which point she then hand-spanked the region dry, causing a certain amount of impassioned howling from Mark due to the amplified intensity of being spanked on wet buns. But she could tell that he still had a ways to go before he was ready to totally let go and bawl and she was determined to get him there.

The next implement on the hit parade was Tom's own belt. This was another of the items Marsha had retrieved while he was standing in the corner. Now she folded it over until she had a 10" long leather loop in her right hand as she tightened her grip around his lower back with her left and began to stripe his bottom. "Stop fighting me Tom. You know you need this. Believe me when I tell you, I can keep this up for hours if need be and the more you fight, the harder it"s going to get. Just let go and surrender. Do it for me sweetie. It's OK. You can do it. I promise. It'll be alright." Meanwhile, the leather left its fiery brand across both cheeks.

Marsha paused and sighed. Like it or not, it was time to bring out the Heavy Artillery - The Brush. Even though she sat on the softest, fluffiest pillows in the house, she was still feeling the aftermath of The Brush on her own bottom thanks to Tom's loving ministrations earlier in the day so she had a very painful reminder of how intense that wicked implement could be. She also knew from firsthand experience that sometimes it takes the deep bite of an ebony brush to break down those final barriers and she wanted to make sure Tom got as deep and cathartic a release as possible so she traded the belt for The Brush.

As she anticipated, it didn"t take long for The Brush to do its work. After less than 30 sharp swats from the hardwood devil, Tom started to howl in earnest. Another 20 and his legs took on a life of their own as they futilely flailed in attempt to discharge the sheer agony of The Brush. She spanked even harder, all the while, lovingly encouraging him to surrender and let go. Shortly after the 100th time The Brush seared his flanks, his screams morphed into bawling and the tears flowed freely. Marsha continued to spank, but slowed both the pace and the intensity, gently rubbing his back with her left hand. A few minutes later, Tom's body went limp and he quietly sobbed across her lap. The spanking was done.

Marsha quietly held him across her lap, rocking and cuddling and soothing the emotionally spent manchild. She massaged a soothing skin lotion onto his white-hot bottom, and then helped him to sit up on her lap where he hungrily suckled on her right breast, his salty tears falling on her chest as she stroked his hair. Just as when he spanked her, it didn't take long for the post-spanking cuddling evolved into an increasingly intense round of mutual fondling and oral exploration.

Marsha reached over to Tom's bag, searching around for something. "Tom, I can't find the condoms in here. You did bring condoms didn't you?"

Tom lifted his head from nuzzling Marsha's left breast and looked sheepishly at her. "I didn't bring any. I honestly didn't anticipate this. Sorry."

"Not as sorry as you're going to be my friend," she said as she picked up The Brush again and patted her lap. At least this time she allowed him to retain his erection before going over her knee. They both smiled at the thought.