Back again. Broadband is working although it is still too slow, only a quarter of the speed we pay for. Anyway, here is a little story I have written. You know me by know. I am still struggling with this sense of disbelief regarding all those fantasies and activities.
I had been fascinated from the moment she mentioned it, fascinated and appalled. At first I thought she told me just to tease me, to try to make me believe something that was just silly, and foolish to believe. Then I realised that it was actually true. From that moment I was obsessed with it.
When she later told me I could join her, or rather be a witness, I said no. I didn't want to be involved. It was too far removed from me for that. She had to ask me several times before I realised I wanted it. I wanted to see it.
I had met her partner before. I didn't like him. He was the kind of man you couldn't trust. He was handsome in some strange way but there was also something immensely menacing about him. He scared me in a way I didn't understand. I confided once in her and told her about this. She laughed at me and said that it was because he was too much a man for me.
That evening, the evening when I was to see it I stood in front of their door with pounding heart. I thought of turning around and leaving but I didn't.
It was he who opened the door and in the instant his eyes fell on me I realised my mistake. My sleeveless dress was too short and too sleeveless and too clinging for that man. His dark eyes seemed to scrutinise me.
He was dressed in jeans and a shirt, he was unshaven and I thought he tried to look rugged, rough and ready. Maybe he even wanted to impress me with his manliness, his male charisma.
He had dark, very intense eyes and I felt that I could love those eyes if they had not belonged to him. He scared me and the glint in his eyes made me feel like he had plans for me, not only his partner.
My friend joined us and took me by the arm and led me into the house. I felt relieved to not have to stand alone in the hallway with that man.
She explained to me that this was a punishment and that it was not for fun. She didn't specify why she was to be punished, she said it was enough that I knew she deserved it.
She placed me in an armchair and I sat down. It was a too comfy armchair, the kind you could lean back in and fall asleep in, but that was too awkward to sit in with a skirt that didn't reach beneath your knees. I pressed my legs together and tried to look relaxed.
I was given a glass of wine and was told not to interfere or talk. I nodded consent, unable to speak. My mouth was dry and my body trembling. I felt awkward and wrong, an uninvited guest, a stranger that was not welcome despite all the reassuring words she spoke in her soft voice.
The repulsive man came into the room and my friend, suddenly became another person. She stopped being the smiling, self assured and bubbly friend I knew and stood silently waiting.
The man ignored me and gazed at my friend. He looked stern, almost angry. He made a gesture towards the sofa and my friend hurried away. She was dressed in a white and wide shirt and thin and wide blue linen trousers.
She untied the drawstring in her trousers and swiftly pulled them down. They fell to her feet. I heard myself gasp and felt my heart beating harder. The man made another gesture and my friend pulled down her knickers. It was all done very swiftly and without any ceremonies. She moved as casually as if she were taking her coat off in the hallway.
All this shocked me. I knew what was to happen but to see my friend take down her trousers and knickers like that was still quite strange. Despite the swiftness and the casual way she did it, the mood in the room had changed. I didn't dare to breathe and I saw that she was shivering a little.
At another gesture she leaned forward and placed herself over the armrest of the sofa. She seemed to know the drill. I watched in amazement as she adjusted her body so her very naked bottom was sticking up.
The awkwardness and strangeness of the situation made me almost want to laugh. We were some friends in an ordinary sitting room but one of us was now lying with naked bottom over the armrest of the sofa. It was absurd.
I stared at my friend's white and very soft bottom. I had seen her naked before but she appeared more vulnerable than ever.
The man was now standing behind her. I gasped again as I saw what he held in his hand. She had talked about the cane but in his hand it looked menacing.
I felt my cheeks burn as I saw him place the cane against her bottom, her very naked and vulnerable bottom. I held my breath as he lifted it and I didn't breathe as he waited.
I jumped as he let the cane fly through the air with its evil hiss and then land on my friend's bottom with a sharp report.
I cringed as I realised the power he had used. I didn't know if he used all his strength but he was not gentle. He had struck her hard and she gasped for air. I saw a welt appearing across her buttocks and I felt dizzy, not able to comprehend what I was seeing.
He had hit her and I felt in my body how it must hurt. I couldn't understand how someone could hit someone like that, just to cause pain. It was even harder to accept that someone would accept this to happen to her.
He hit her again and she moved about a little. My heart started pounding and I was transfixed. I didn't want to watch but I could not take my eyes from it. I could not understand how she could endure this brutality.
He gave her ten more, I counted them, twelve in total. She didn't cry, she didn't scream but I could see that she was in pain. She moaned a little and wriggled her bottom. But the man felt no pity. He whipped her remorselessly.
When it was over, she got up, pulled up her knickers and trousers. The man had left the room. She turned to me and I saw her flushed cheeks. And to my utter amazement, she smiled.
I didn't have to meet the man again. My friend asked me if I wanted anything but I just shook my head. She escorted me to the door and I left. She gave me a hug and I stumbled out into a strange world.
My heart was beating wildly. I was shocked and appalled and scared of what I had seen. I could not understand it. I knew they did this for pleasure. She liked it, she had told me she liked it. I could not understand it.
Later, that evening, I stood in my room, in front of my mirror. I had turned my back to the mirror and was looking at my own bottom. I could not imagine, ever, to let anyone take a cane to it. It was too brutal, too painful, too impossible to think of.
But what was I to do with that other aching sensation in my body, the one that wouldn't go away, the one I knew but didn't want?