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One morning, it was unusually chilly, so instead of one of my usual little sundresses, I put on a t-shirt, jeans, and high-top sneakers. I had already gotten in my car to go to class when I realized I'd forgotten something I needed, so I had to go back up to my room to get it. I was already late and it would take too long to take off and put back on all of those clothes, so I just dashed up the front stairwell, down the hall, up the back stairs to my room and then back down again.
I thought the house was completely empty, but as I came pounding down the back stairwell in my sneakers, Shelly poked her head out of her bedroom and saw me. I didn't think anything more about it, and had completely forgotten by the time I got home that evening. As always, I took off my clothes in the little foyer -- unlacing my high-tops and wiggling out of tight jeans. As I did so, I wondered why I heard no music or voices, which was unusual for that time of day.
When I was finally undressed, I sauntered around the corner and was surprised to see Bea, Dee, Shelly and Jaye sitting together in one of the couch clusters, all of them looking serious. I approached warily.
"I hope this isn't an intervention," I joked. "I don't drink that much."
"Actually, it is an intervention," Dee said, "but not for drinking. You can go on doing that."
"You violated our agreement," Jaye said sternly.
"Ohhhh, right. I'm sorry, but I was really late and I was wearing jeans and--"
"Your action voided the agreement," Jaye went on, "so I assume you're prepared to pay your original debt."
"Oh come ON," I laughed nervously. "You can't be serious. It was, like, 30 seconds."
"The amount of time doesn't matter. Are you prepared to pay your debt?"
"You know I'm not, Jaye." I looked at Bea and Dee. "You guys aren't going to kick me out over this, are you?" I didn't believe they would, but I felt my throat closing up and tears welling in my eyes.
"Of course not, honeypot," Bea said maternally. "Jaye, get to your fuckin' point."
"I'm the one you owe money to," Jaye went on. "It's not just the rent, as you well know. I paid that last car repair bill too. Your obligation is to me, and I have only one requirement to let this incident pass.
"And what ... do you ... want?" I asked suspiciously, realizing that all of this was a setup for something.
"I'm afraid there's only one thing to do," Jaye said solemnly, but a smile was working at her mouth. "You'll need to submit to... a spanking."
I laughed in relief at this point, and everyone else laughed with me. "Oh you! God, you had me scared for a minute. Okay, here." I turned round and bent over at the waist.
"No, not like that," she said, patting her lap. "Ten swats."
And then it made sense -- why she was sitting alone in the center of a long leather couch while everyone else was grouped together on the couch facing it.
"This better not hurt," I demanded. "And it better not leave a mark."
"It won't," she said, patting her lap again. "We're just putting on a little show -- and I know you like to put on a show."
As I put one knee on the couch cushion next to her and crawled across her lap, I felt as if everyone was seeing me naked for the first time. To this day, I recall the moment when my breasts touched the cool leather of the couch as I lay down. My hair was in my eyes and I pushed it back, looking over at the grinning Roommates.
"Are you ready?" Jaye asked.
"I guess."
SMACK! The first slap didn't hurt at all, but it made a lot of noise. Then I felt Jaye's hand gently caressing my butt. "That was a three. Was that okay?" she asked so gently I was surprised.
"Yes," I heard myself say. "You can make it a little more--"
SMACK, came the second, stinging a tiny bit that time, but again it was followed by a soft caress. "No harder than that last one, please," I said. "But I like the--"
SMACK! "The caressing part. Can you make this part a little longer?"
And so it continued. SMACK! And a light caress. Both of her hands were touching me, her left hand gliding up my backbone to touch the back of my neck while her right hand slid down the backs of my thighs to touch my calves. Then her hands would meet in the middle and glide around every inch of my butt. Then SMACK, and it would start over again. SMACK, caress, SMACK, caress, and so it continued very slowly.
Although I had never even considered spankings as an erotic activity, this was something entirely different than anything I had previously thought it could be. There was virtually no pain, the caresses in between were lovely -- and I had a raptly attentive little audience.
After ten smacks, it was over, and I (somewhat reluctantly) pulled myself off of her lap and sprawled next to her on the couch.
"Are you satisfied?" I asked. "Have I paid my debt to society?"
"Yes, you have, but did you enjoy that? Just a little?"
I actually had enjoyed it, but didn't want to admit that. "It was ... moderately interesting."
Luckily for me, Dee picked this moment to leap up and cry, "The casserole!" She dashed into the kitchen to turn off the oven before dinner burned. The rest of us followed and soon became engaged in meal preparation.
By the time we sat down to dinner, the remaining Roommates had come home along with half a dozen others, and there were probably 10 or 12 of us by then. The dominant topic of conversation was "The Spanking," which only a few present had actually witnessed. People kept saying "let's do it again," but I protested that I had, after all, already been "punished" for my misdeed.
The group conversation meandered around other subjects -- politics, sports, various celebrity lesbians, etc, but periodically it would come back to whether a "second spanking" might be in the offing. Riffing off of the "punishment" theme, they started coming up with reasons why I "deserved" another spanking -- like when I knocked over a water glass (causing no mess because it held only ice cubes). So "she should be spanked for that" became the joke.
After dinner, as we rinsed off dishes and poured more drinks, I made some really dumb joke -- some kind of pun that I no longer remember. I actually hate puns, but sometimes a wordplay joke is hard to resist, and I blurted it out, eliciting groans. It was worth a brief laugh, but as that died down, I stage-whispered, "I should be spanked for that." This got everyone going again, and my comment was (correctly) interpreted as meaning I could be talked into another public spanking.
"Okay," I finally said. "Here are my conditions. First, I am NOT being punished for anything. I am merely taking part in a demonstration."
"A reenactment," someone suggested. "A dramatization," someone else called out.
"Secondly," I continued, slowly walking across the kitchen towards Jaye, "getting spanked is a very intimate thing, especially the way she does it, and that much touching seems rather inappropriate." Here, Jaye's smile vanished and in that instant, she looked stricken, and about to apologize, so I quickly went on, "considering that she hasn't even kissed me yet."
This provoked a round of hoots and whistles as I walked up to Jaye and stood so close to her we were only inches apart. "So if there's gonna be any more spanking, there's gonna hafta be some kissing first."
The room absolutely exploded in laughter and shouts of "kiss her, kiss her!" And Jaye did, or at least she started leaning her face toward mine, but I beat her to it, throwing my arms around her neck and locking my lips on hers for a good 15-20 seconds while everyone cheered and applauded.
I broke it off and took a step backward, enjoying the priceless look on her face. Her uber-butch mask had fallen away, and she was grinning in such a natural way. I noticed for the first time she had a dimple in one cheek, but not the other. I whirled around and marched off towards the doorway to the living room, calling back over my shoulder, "Well then, let's go do some spanking!"
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