by Cyan
Copyright 2002 by Cyan
All Rights Reserved; No Redistribution.
When the door opened, there stood Marcia, who immediately grinned. "Well, look who's here a day early," she said. We'd arranged that I'd show up on Saturday but the final reception I'd been attending Friday afternoon had been pretty dull since everyone had wanted to get home or wherever. After pulling me in and giving me a hug Marcia wanted to know whether I was hungry and I admitted to having already eaten a bit too much party food. "Well," she said as Graham appeared, "I guess you'll just have to witness our Friday routine."
Telling me to leave my bag for later, they led me down to their basement where they had a family room. They'd been watching a video and after ascertaining that I'd already seen it yet found it sufficiently interesting to watch again, we all sat down to watch the end.
It was certainly the kind of movie that I knew Marcia liked and I was glad that Graham seemed to share her passion. Marcia and I, who were known in the family as the "twin cousins" because we were born less than a month apart, went out to movies together often once we were old enough to drive and being teenagers, were disinclined to hang out with the family during visits. Typically it was our Moms sitting around talking about the very same things they had the previous time our families got together for dinner, typically a couple of months before. Since Marcia and I were so close in age and saw each other several times a year, we got along well, and I fondly remember when we'd go someplace for desert or a snack after the movie and talk. Something that had been really great for both of us was having a trustworthy friend of the other gender with which to compare notes on dating and relationships. Though on occasion we went to the movies with a group of her friends, I never did meet the guys she dated but I did hear about them. And Marcia certainly helped spur me into dating by quizzing me regarding whom had caught my eye and offering her objective assessment of my chances and my best course of action.
Once we were in college, we did go to some trouble to get together occasionally but since we were hundreds of miles apart, we inevitably saw less of each other. Since those times I'd remained in graduate school while Marcia had found Graham and married him. And having just finished yet another semester of dealing with undergraduates, I was happy to get away from school for a bit and sufficiently anxious to see them that I arrived early. The video we were watching soon finished and I noticed that it was still relatively early, about 9PM, and concluded that they must have begun it quite early in the evening. Graham turned off the TV and as we sat, Marcia said "Well, as I said, this way you're going to witness our Friday Night routine." Then she said "Stand up, Honey."
I'd noticed Graham looking a bit uneasy as Marcia was talking but when she was done he looked downright uncomfortable. For a moment he appeared ready to say something, but then he stood. "Your response is noted," said Marcia once he'd done so. "Take off your clothes," she added.
I sat there amazed. Graham started stripping and was naked in a minute! I looked at Marcia who briefly grinned at me, then turned her attention back to Graham. "OK, prepare yourself," she said, standing up as she said it.
As she stood, he went over to one of the stuffed chairs, leaned forward over it with his hands on the arms. He simply looked down at the seat cushion. Marcia appeared next to him carrying a stick of some sort. "OK, it's seven this week, isn't it?" she said, "but you earned an eighth with that bit of hesitation."
Graham didn't move. She struck his rear with the stick. I gawked.
His body jerked. I heard an intake of breath and then a brief unsteadiness in his breathing, but that was his only reaction. I think I might have said something but she twisted toward me and looked directly into my eyes. Something told me to let it be. I was amazed how much force she'd used: you could hardly call this playing around. Then she turned back to Graham and gave him another. And another.
She stopped after eight. "OK, in the corner," she said. She stood there, stick in hand as he stood and obeyed, facing the corner. With that she set down the stick and sat. She gave me what you'd have to describe as a wry smile.
"What was that about?" I said.
"Never mind," she said, "I'll explain later when Graham isn't around. Tell me, how was your final week? Graham's interested to hear too."
I glanced at Graham who obviously could hear us but certainly wasn't in a position to demonstrate such interest. "Harried as always," I said and at her prompting gave her an account of my recent days and an update on my degree progress.
Finally she seemed satisfied and turned toward Graham and said, "OK Honey, prepare yourself again." He came over immediately and took the same place while Marcia retrieved the stick. "This is a punishment cane," she explained to me as she returned to the spot she'd stood in before. Then she said: "Since we're doing this demonstration, I'm giving you an extra ten." Then she proceeded to give them to him.
I was amazed that these two were into this stuff. Marcia, whom I'd known so long, seemed all business as she applied them, seeming as if she wouldn't have heard me if I'd spoken. I mentally counted out the ten she gave him, then waited in amazement for what might be next. "OK Honey," she said, "up to our room; I want you ready when I get there."
And with that, he left, up the stairs, still naked, not a word spoken. "What the hell is that?" were my first words.
Marcia had sat again. "Our Friday evening routine," she said with a grin. "You came at your own peril."
"You spank him every Friday?"
"Yep."
I thought about it. "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why do you spank him?"
"Oh it helps him."
"There's nothing sexual about it?"
"Of course there is, everything we do is sexual at some level."
I thought about it. "Does it turn you on?"
"There's certainly a satisfaction I feel. It might turn me on deep down though that's not what I think about."
"What do you think about?"
That seemed to make her consider. "In a sense it's like a duty."
A duty. I thought about it. "How long have you been doing this?"
"Pretty much since we got together."
"Does he spank you too?"
She laughed so spontaneously that that answer was clear even before she said anything. "Absolutely not."
I thought a bit more. What does one ask after seeing that? "Did you spank other boyfriends?"
"Oh yes," she said.
"But you were never spanked yourself?"
"It's men who benefit from canings," she said.
That brought me up short though I couldn't put my finger on why. "All men?" I asked.
After just a second's thought, she said "Most. The vast majority."
I think I might have laughed just a little. "Do you think I would benefit from being caned?"
For a bare moment I thought I'd surprised her with my question, but then she merely seemed to be pondering, still looking me in the eye. Or waiting. "Stand up," she finally said.
I hesitated, feeling far too many things to consider had been thrown at me in an instant. She grinned and said "Come on, do it."
I don't know how but I found myself standing. It seemed like nothing special, just that she wished me to stand for some reason. And she'd grinned. And somehow the confusing thoughts I'd had when she first said it seemed to be set aside: I merely stood there watching her as she watched me, our eyes still locked. Without moving a muscle, she said "Take off your clothes."
I felt surprise but at the same time I didn't. I stared at her. Why else would she have asked me to stand? I'd already stood, obeying her as such, knowing, or at least knowing it might well be the prelude to this. She didn't blink once.
I undressed.
She still made no move. When I was done, I felt totally awkward standing naked in front of Marcia. She still was watching my eyes as if she had no interest in the sight in front of her. "OK," she said, "take your position on the chair, just like Graham did."
Why are you doing this? As soon as I'd done so, I found myself staring at the seat of the chair and kept asking that question. Instinctively I knew not to look around, at her or anything. She moved quietly but not so silently that I couldn't sense her presence appear close by. "It's no good giving you anything but full blows so this will be quite severe," she said. "I could start you with five but that seems a little bit low. We'll make it eight."
There was a pause. Then she said: "Being your first, you're going to find that it hurts more than you believed possible. Try to ready yourself: once you have maintained a bit of control through the first one, you should do fine."
She was saying it was going to hurt. One second later I fully realized how right she was. I guess I had braced myself yet I know I nearly broke down at that first blow. Not quite believing I was letting it happen, I suffered the second, then the third. I felt my body move involuntarily as if it were trying to twist out of the way to escape. More came. Finally the eighth.
Somehow I knew I should still make no move and for a moment we were both still. "OK, go to the guest room," she finally said. "Don't dress yet. Lie face down on the bed and wait for me."
* * *
I felt funny, wondering whether I should be looking around the room as I lay there, obediently waiting. The house was quiet once I'd heard her walking to what I knew to be their room. Minutes passed. I eventually heard low noises, too low to make out. Not talking, perhaps breathing. More minutes passed, the slight noises fading away to silence. Finally I heard footsteps.
My instincts told me not to look at her. I wondered where I came by such instincts. "OK," she said, "edge down until your knees reach the floor." When I'd done so, she approached and I realized I was in perfect position for further punishment. In doing so I'd managed to glance at her. She wore a robe.
Once I was in position I was careful not to look and her silence seemed to tell me that I'd best continue that policy. Then she put her hand on my rear.
Yes it was sore, and being touched wasn't completely pleasant, but there was something strangely comforting about the gesture. Her hand moved and in seconds a fingertip was on my anus. It immediately pressed and soon was in. In a minute it was obvious that she had more fingers in. "Now," she said, "relax as much as you can. This is not intended to be painful."
The fingers withdrew but something replaced them, pressed against my anus. And her hands took hold of my hips.
She alternately pressed and relaxed, over and over again. "Just relax," she said once. Finally it happened and I was entered. She wasted no time and in seconds her crotch was pressed against my rear and I was definitely taken.
Neither of us said a thing. She waited a bit, then drew it almost out, then pressed in again. "Ah, this is it," she finally said. "I remember those days, you'd go on and on so passionately about your theories of Cinema and I'd simply watch you talk. You were so cute." With that, she nearly withdrew again, then plunged back into me. "You'd talk away and I'd imagine caning you and taking you," she said. "Naked and in my power." She did it again, almost out, then back in all the way. "God I love this," she said.
Cyan Stories
Erotic fiction, sex stories, for erotica lovers.