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Wwwjemimadouglas80gmailcom
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Username: Wwwjemimadouglas80gmailcom

Post Number: 1
Registered: 08-2016
Posted on Monday, August 15, 2016 - 06:11 am:   Edit Post

I left School in the Summer of 1983. After working for a year in Lloyds of London, my parents paid for me to visit Australia. Having arrived in Sydney I was greeted by friends of my parents, who took me back to their home the other side of the Harbour. There I stayed for 2 nights before they thought it would be more fun for a young man to stay with people nearer his own age. They had a daughter who shared a flat with 2 girl friends in Double Bay. Her name was called Alice, she was 23, and her friends were Kate, 24 and Emma, 25.
The arrangement worked perfectly. I paid a small amount of rent and helped with the normal household chores such as washing up and cleaning. All three of the girls worked in Sydney and although I had quite a busy schedule of things to do, I knew that sooner or later I was going to find myself alone in the flat. Alice was very nice, but quite plump and not very attractive. Kate was slender and intelligent but slightly boring. Emma however was the apple of my eye. She was clearly the figure of authority in our household. Strikingly pretty, with thick blonde hair she was at least 6ft in her heels. I noticed that Alice and Kate looked up to her (not just from a height perspective) and always agreed with her when she suggested where we should go when going out at weekends or in the evenings.. Whilst she had a boyfriend and was way out of my league anyway, I harboured a rich crush on her . Emma always looked good-Either when she returned from work wearing one of her smart suits or when having changed into something casual but equally chic. I’m sure she knew that I fancied her, but imposed on me at least as much of her authority as she did the girls. She regularly told me to go down to the shops to buy food/wine/beer and was never shy to make me clean dishes or hoover. I showed no dissent however and even quite enjoyed being bossed around by this gorgeous woman. One Saturday her boyfriend had stayed the night, and the next day at breakfast, in front of both him and the other girls, she told me to take a pile of her skirts, dresses and a mink coat to the dry cleaners. I’m sure I detected the others smirking but dutifully replied, “Yes of course Emma”.
The following Monday morning, when I woke up, the girls had gone to work. I had nothing to do until the evening and decided to go for a run. I ran about four miles and returned to the flat exhausted as it was a warm day. I took a shower and wrapped a towel around my waist. Then I did something very foolish which could have caused me untold embarrassment for a long time. I gingerly turned the door handle to Emma’s room and went inside. No one would be back for hours, I thought. I flung the towel on the bed and opened up her draws. It was a treasure chest of bras, panties, slips, tights, stockings and suspenders which the mere sight of caused a stirring in my groin. I reached for a pair of silky black knickers and pulled them on. A black lacy bra followed, before I clipped on a garter belt and pulled stockings up my legs, before clipping the fasteners of the garter belt to the stockings. She was taller than me anyway and when I saw a pair of black strappy heels I knew they’d fit. I found some pearls and put them around my neck. I opened the draw of her cupboard to see dozens of dresses and suits, and another heavy mink coat, like the one I’d taken to the cleaners. My hard on was at full stretch as I zipped up a dress that I’d chosen, and then donned the large fur coat. I beamed as I admired myself in the mirror. And then the unthinkable happened. The door handle turned and there was Emma staring at me with a look of both pity and anger.
“Well, well, well, you look better as a girl than a boy Jamie”.
My name is James, and I think she’d been calling me Jamie since the beginning of my stay to belittle me. She continued , “Take that coat off and give it to me. NOW”. she barked. “Keep the rest of the clothes on” she continued. She slipped into the coat and sat on the bed.
“Alice and Kate are going to love seeing you like this. When we go to the pub tonight you are going exactly dressed as you are”.
I felt tears welling in my eyes.
“Emma, no, please I beg you. Alice will tell her parents and then they’ll tell mine-and everyone in Sydney will soon know, if you say anything.
She thought to herself for a few moments. “Very well, you can bring me that hairbrush on the side over there and come here. If you want this to remain a secret between us you’re going to have to indulge me in a little fantasy I’ve had since I first saw you gaping at me when you arrived here. I’ve been looking for an opportunity to punish you and now you’ve nicely presented it to me. Have you ever been spanked before Jamie?”
I replied that I had, both at my prep school by matron by hand and more recently by my Housemaster at school who disapproved of the cane and instead preferred to deliver spankings to boys with a slipper , on their bare bottoms, whilst across his knee.
“And when exactly did your Housemaster last have to punish you this way?” I explained that at Public School (certainly in my time) that masters never took age into account when considering corporal punishment-I’d had my last spanking midway through my final term.
I stood right by her side, now having handed her the hairbrush.
“Well Jamie, I expect that you’ve now deduced that that final spanking was not going to be your last. If you want me to keep this between us you will do exactly as I say. Now raise up your dress please.”
I knew what was coming. I stuttered and stammered whilst blushing furiously but It wasn’t going to make any difference.
I raised the hem of the dress right above my hips. Emma’s reached for my knickers and tugged them right down to my knees. The ‘stirring below’ I had felt earlier, had dissipated so nervous was I. I just couldn’t believe that I was going to be spanked again. I was nineteen after all. I was feeling a rash of different emotions, not least embarrassment. And of all people to punish me it was going to be Emma. I was shaking at the ignominy of it all.
“Now, I think you know what to do next” . She patted her lap, and I gingerly laid myself over her knee. I felt her grip tighten around my waist. A tear rolled down my cheek. And then she began.
She started slowly at first, bringing the brush down across each cheek alternately every three seconds or so. I wiped the tear from my cheek. Not too bad so far. She continued. SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT. The tempo increased to one smack every second. I squirmed across her lap but as yet had let out no yelps of pain. It had been a boys tradition at both my boarding schools that boys should not make any noise during a spanking or caning. Tears were inevitable but making a noise was for wimps and it would never ever do to resist.
“I don’t think I’m getting through to you young man”. The strong furry arm relaxed for about fifteen seconds then suddenly gripped around me again like a clamp. The wooden hairbrush crashed down on my naked bottom raining blows at a new tempo of speed. I knew I was about to break. I couldn’t resist groaning out. “Emma, please, I’m so sorry”.
“Did I tell you to speak young man?” Again she stopped and she rested the hairbrush on the bed beside her, once again relaxing her grip. I thought it was over. At least I hadn’t cried like a child. I knew how close I’d been. I was filled with a huge sense of relief that my punishment was finished. I attempted to raise myself to my feet but as I did so Emma shouted,
“How dare you get up? I will tell you when I’m done with you. Get back down there right this minute”. She told me to lie further across her lap this time and to raise my bottom higher. This was most certainly not over. She then placed her right leg over mine and I felt the grip tighten again, tighter than before. I could feel the fur from her arm rub against my back as she adjusted my position. She then told me to place my right arm across the flat of my back which she took hold of. She reached back for the hairbrush and delivered a rapid volley of at least 100 hard whacks across my already crimson red bottom. I broke after only 10 whacks, hot tears welling up in my eyes, soon to be replaced by proper, full on crying and then simply bawling like a baby, squirming across her lap but restricted by her leg pinning my own legs down . Finally it was over. I continued crying for about a minute, still draped across her lap. Then she spoke.
“Now, it appears that you have been taught your lesson Jamie. I’m quite impressed at how well you took that under the circumstances and our secret will remain exactly that. Now get up, undress, hang my clothes back up and go to your room where you will please stay until the girls return from work this evening. Then nothing further shall be said”.
Emma was good to her word, and there was no reference made to the events of that morning. When I returned to England I actually wrote to her. To my delight she replied saying that if I ever returned to Australia she hoped I would stay with her, whatever her circumstances were. As a footnote she wrote jokingly (with enough menace to be taken seriously however), that I could still expect to be treated in the same way should I deserve to be “dealt with again”, as she put it. Over thirty years have passed and sadly I never returned to Australia. I think Emma moved from Sydney as I didn’t hear from her again. I have thought of her constantly however, and will never forget that terrible, embarrassing, shameful, painful, tearful yet oh so wonderful, experience.
THE END

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