© Copyright 2003

"So who was she?" I asked Martha. Martha had introduced her as Bella.

"Mm," was the sound that came out of Martha's mouth as she smiled. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she added.

"Oh really?" I said, curious. Something about the way they had exchanged glances had suggested an intimacy. Was it possible Martha had a gay streak?

Martha laughed. "I can see that your imagination is running away with you. Believe me, you don't want to know."

I wondered whether she was egging me on. I decided to come right out with it. "You're gay."

She laughed out loud, but the way she laughed I quickly revised my thinking. But what had she meant? "Well," she said, "we did have a relationship, but believe me it wasn't that sort."

Now that really confused me. "Not that sort?"

She calmed herself then seemed to take in that I was interested and probably wouldn't be deterred. "Exactly," she said. I awaited her explanation. "There was no sex," she said.

A relationship with no sex. A friendship. Yes, their exchanged glances might have been explained by a very close friendship. But that didn't explain the way Martha had been reacting to my curiosity. I wondered if there had been an attraction that they chose not to pursue. I noticed that Martha was watching me think. "You're just going to obsess about this?" she asked.

"No, of course not," I said.

She grinned. "Now don't be shocked," she said. "It was a spanking relationship."

I was glad we were sitting down. My mouth must have been hanging open. "What?" was the first word I managed.

"I told you you didn't want to know," she said.

"What do you mean?"

"We--did some spanking. That's all."

I noticed that she was looking a little uncomfortable and felt a little guilty for putting her on the spot. But I couldn't think of what I could say that might make her more comfortable. "OK," was all I came out with.

She grinned. "You're shocked," she said.

"Amazed," I replied, having gotten a bit of a hold on myself. "Spanking?" I guess my curiosity was taking hold again.

"It was only a few times."

"Why?" I truly didn't understand.

She grinned. "If you don't know I doubt I could explain it." When all I did was stare at her, she said in a perfectly light voice "It's fun."

"Fun?"

"Why would we ever do it if it wasn't?"

Why indeed? "It's crazy!"

"I know," she said, smiling.

"So you--exactly what did you do?" Why was I asking this stuff?

"I spanked her."

She'd told me I didn't want to know. I felt she was right but curiosity and amazement had taken hold. "She let you?"

"Sure," she said. When I didn't respond right away she repeated "It's fun."

"For her too?"

"Oh yes."

"How did you two--end up doing this?"

"Oh we were talking one day and it came up."

"How does that come up?"

"Oh I don't know, I guess we were talking about guys and the things they want sometimes."

"And?"

"I told her about Gary. You remember Gary? He'd kill me for telling you this but--he wanted to spank me."

"He did?"

"Oh yes."

"Did he?"

"No," she said decisively. "But I noticed something about how Bella reacted to the story. And one thing led to another."

"Another?"

"Yep. There we were in her apartment later that day."

"You spanked her?"

"Yep. She was over my lap, her pants down."

"Had she done this before?"

"Actually no, but I suspect she'll find the nerve to mention the idea to her boyfriends in the future."

"So it was that once?"

"Oh a couple of more times. The last time I used a belt on her. She undressed completely and leaned over the edge of a table. Oh, I'm saying more than you want to hear."

She definitely was. "No," I said. "I've just never heard of such a thing." That wasn't precisely true but I'd always thought of such fetishes as being far more remote from my innocent life. "I still don't understand why."

"Like I said, it's fun. It's like one of you has been bad and the other is charged with disciplining her."

"Are you attracted to her?"

"Well, she does have a spankable bottom. We never had sex or anything."

"A spankable bottom?"

"Listen, you're taking this much to seriously. It was just a little fun, that's all. I liked it and she liked it. There's nothing the least bit lesbian about either of us. I sensed she was intrigued and I realized she'd be fun to spank." I was silent, not really knowing how to go on, and thankfully Martha brought up another topic that occupied us through the rest of lunch.

You know I found myself mulling over it. Martha, into a kinky pastime. Spanking for fun. Martha feeling Bella had a spankable bottom. It was crazy, totally crazy. I thought of some of my old boyfriends and tried to think of having that sort of "fun" with them. Spanking a woman for fun but according to Martha it wasn't the least bit lesbian. Straight women feel the urge to spank each other and get together to do it.

Eventually I became more used to the idea which was good since I had no intention of dropping Martha as a friend. It had been too many years and whatever her kink it was obvious from past history that she was plenty straight, into men without a doubt. We're all different so I granted Martha her quirk. But it still amazed me to think that someone so much like me could be so different in this one respect. The whole idea of spanking another woman just for the fun of it, me, a straight woman. On a list of all the things that I might find "fun", that had to be pretty much the last.

But then I noticed a woman at work. A spankable bottom, Martha had said. Yes, the woman had been facing away from me once when I'd glanced over. I sensed Martha's phrase had found its way into my unconscious and some part of me had been checking out women ever since, to discover what the heck that phrase might mean. And then I saw it.

The woman, Lisa, was someone I'd known and liked for a while though I'd never done more than talk to her a bit. She was nice and friendly. I thought about the way her bottom had struck me, her body actually. I feared I was feeling the impulse that Martha had felt. Was I like Martha after all? Or had Martha made this happen to me?

I felt a little nervous talking to Lisa, having had that momentary thought. I knew I'd never forget it. I thought about it more. Had Lisa's personality been part of it? Her body was nice but there were better bodies around if that was any part of it. Was she the sort of person that I felt the urge to spank? I thought about her. She was the sort of person I'd have loved to have as a sister-in-law. I realized I must have sized her up like a man would, or rather the way I thought a man should size up women. If I were a man...

But I wasn't gay and I was so sure of that. I certainly wasn't conjuring the attraction I felt for men. Did I want sex with Lisa? No I didn't, but I wanted to spank her.

My obsessing had led me to that. Yes, I actually did want to spank her and soon after I realized I wanted it really badly. I snuck glances at her and I probably blushed sometimes when I met her. It was like her body was etched in my mind and I couldn't think about anything else. I couldn't do anything without the thoughts intruding. And despite myself I began planning.

It's like your mind goes off on its own course. I didn't mean to but I found myself considering approaches, but pretty much rejecting them all. The best I came up with was to get into talking about men and tell a little lie about what some guy had asked me to do, and see if I could get things to work out like they did for Martha.

But I couldn't do it. What I did do was probably make a fool of myself, hanging on to Lisa's every word. I thought about inviting her out to lunch but I was so nervous about it that I couldn't manage it.

It was too much. Every night I want to sleep thinking about it. I remembered Martha's descriptions and imagined it with Lisa. I'd look for her every day, trying to follow her daily routine and I was afraid someone at the office might notice. And I wanted it, so badly. I remembered crushes I'd had on guys and it was like that. I could hardly stand to live I wanted so badly to do it. I remembered how I'd reacted to Martha's story and realized I was now just as bad if not worse. I no longer had the slightest doubt how Martha had come to do such a thing.

I imagined Lisa, over my lap, her pants down. Letting me do it, wanting me to do it. Wanting a spanking from me. Spanking her hard. Making her stand in the corner afterward with her pants down like a bad girl. Lisa, letting me do that. I imagined her asking me to spank her, begging me. I imagined her naked, letting me use a belt on her. I imagined her thanking me later as she left, saying that I fulfilled her dreams, begging me to let her come again. I wanted it so badly, to do it.

I couldn't stand my life.

I confessed to Martha. I told her I understood. I told her about Lisa and about my obsession. She smiled.

"You know what you have to do?" she said.

"What?"

"You have to lighten up. Big time. It's supposed to be fun and you're making it into the tragedy of your life."

I kind of knew she was right. I had a tendency to do that when I had crushes. I knew I needed to be carefree, to let things happen and enjoy myself all the while, or people would sense my obsession and I'd remain alone. I had to let life take its course and give me chances to discover relationships instead of obsessing about the relationships that weren't happening. Now it was the same with the spanking thing with Lisa. "That's me," I agreed.

"But you can do it," she said encouragingly, "lighten up and you'll find yourself asking her exactly as you've planned."

"I'm not going to ask her!" I said.

"Why not?"

Why not? I realized a part of me absolutely refused such a thing no matter how well I might ever manage to conquer my nerves. And in any case I didn't want to admit anything to Martha. I obviously still felt weird about the whole business. A straight woman asking another straight woman if they can engage in a little spanking, just innocent fun of course. In any case, the odds Lisa would do anything other than be shocked and start avoiding me had to be pretty much zero. "She hasn't a clue about this. She'd probably run or laugh and probably avoid me forever."

"You can't know that."

"Sure, there could be a chance in a thousand, but that's the same thing."

"These things can surprise you. You have to test the waters. Tell her your little story."

Well I wasn't going to do it and somehow talking to Martha didn't make me lighten up in the least. It made me worry more about whether to approach Lisa: my resolve on the issue was coming and going several times every day. Sometimes I was absolutely sure I had to do it.

"Still nothing," said Martha when we had lunch again. "You've got to give it a try just to get yourself past this."

"There's no way..."

"I thought the same thing once. Listen, I want to meet her."

"Huh?"

Something made me nervous about that, but Martha insisted and she came in the office briefly after lunch instead of simply dropping me off and I managed to get them together for a minute. "Good choice for you," Martha whispered when I escorted her back to her car.

"What do you mean?"

"Go for it," she said and I didn't get another word out of her. I remember watching Lisa that day. She came over and mentioned Martha. I hid my obsession like I always did. I felt so weird, the thoughts of spanking her coming up unbidden right in the midst of our conversations. I thought of Martha's advice. Just strike up another conversation with Lisa, get the topic onto men and tell her an amusing little story about an old boyfriend with kinky urges. No big deal. I'd see her and knew I had to do it.

I didn't. It was back to daydreams and insomnia from not being able to get her out of my mind. I found my fantasies growing more elaborate. An entire visit, her at my apartment door, subdued yet eager. The way I'd tell her to ready herself. Each moment until she hugged me at the door before leaving. The feel of her body as she'd hug me. Four fantasies of four visits, each going a bit further, yet excruciatingly restrained. Nothing but spanking and punishment, even while Lisa was naked, awaiting my will. And every day it was seeing her at the office again, often sensing that the conversation I'd just had with her could easily have been steered to the right topic. I sensed she definitely felt I was her friend. I actually began to feel more comfortable with the whole idea.