The soreness and visual of the swats and shots faded far too quickly. I had committed Ms Wickstrom’s phone number to memory and fantasized about asking for and receiving the ‘real’ spanking she had suggested. My curiosity soon got the better of me and I dialed the number and introduced myself when she answered.

“I wondered if you’d call,” she replied. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” I responded. “I was calling about the offer you made when you gave me your number.”

“Are you sure about this?” she queried. “When I spank naughty men, it’s not just a couple of playful swats.”

“Yes, ma’am. I understand. I deserve a ‘real’ spanking.”

“Ok, I just wanted to be clear. I will give you a whoopin’ you’ll not soon forget. Your bottom will be sore and probably bruised for a few days. Sitting down will be uncomfortable. A spanking from me will be long, hard and on the bare. It’s intended to hurt and really make you think about the behavior that led you over my knee,” she warned.

“Yes, ma’am,” I repeated. We arranged a time that evening.

“Don’t be late, if you know what’s good for you,” she scolded before hanging up. I briefly toyed with the idea of being intentionally tardy to test her threat but instead I was punctual. Perhaps I would save a late arrival for another time. She led me into her home office where a straight chair stood. A nasty looking hair brush lay on the seat and a heavy leather belt was draped over the back. She sat in the chair and I waited - a bit uncertain what to do. “What happens when naughty young men visit me?” she asked.

“They get a spanking,” I replied. The lab coat she wore at the clinic had disguised her figure. She was dressed in a conservative skirt and fitted blouse and I now noticed her generous bosom covered but no longer camouflaged by the lab coat. Only two buttons of the blouse were open but that was enough to provide a hint of her deep cleavage. The conversation, impending spanking and curve of her blouse around her large breasts, were making me hard.

“Not just any spanking,” she continued. “A good, long old-fashioned bare-bottom spanking that will leave your tushie very sore. Come over here,” she beckoned, pointing to the spot on her right. I moved close and she undid my belt, unbuttoned my jeans, then unzipped them before brusquely tugging them to my knees. She glanced at the bulge in my boxers and quipped, “I wonder if you’ll still be so excited once I’ve roasted your bum.” She jerked my underwear down and guided me over her lap. She handed me the brush and instructed, “Hold onto that until I need it.”

She began to spank me with her hand. I was unprepared for the intensity. She would spank fast and hard for about thirty seconds and then caress my stinging cheeks. After several cycles of spank and stroking, she ordered, “Hand me the brush.” The brush made her hand feel like a tickle. She would heat my ass to an excruciating burn, then pause and rub. Like the hand spanking, she repeated this cycle several times and then prompted me to stand. She clucked her tongue at the sight of wet spots of pre-cum on her skirt, “You naughty man. Bend over the chair and hold onto the seat. I’m gonna give your ass a taste of my leather strap.” I braced for the bite of the belt against my butt and literally howled at the searing sensation of it hitting my already sore cheeks. She doled-out a dozen strokes and then paused.

“Get undressed,” she ordered. Figuring that prompt adherence to the order might be in my best interest, I quickly doffed my jeans and t-shirt. She smiled with a focus on my erection. She slowly unzipped her skirt and laid it on her desk. She teasingly unbuttoned her blouse and then opened it to show a shear bra constraining her large breasts. Finally, she unhooked her bra and I gulped at the sight. I had seen and touched the breasts of a handful of female partners but all were diminutive in comparison. She resumed her seat in the chair and guided me over her lap again, this time my cock sandwiched between her warm thighs. She rewarmed my bottom with her hand, pausing to caress and stroke.

I believed my ass had sustained all the impacts I could possibly endure when she induced me to stand and then sit on her bare lap. Feeling her bare thighs against my stinging bottom was exquisite and she took hold of my wrist and guided me to fondle her breasts. As I kneaded those pendulous orbs, she slowly stroked my cock until I erupted and covered us both. She licked her semen-covered fingers and the offered her hand to me. I sucked her finger and tasted the remnants of my own jizz. “Look what a mess I’ve made,” she teased. “I believe it’s my turn to get a warm bottom.