My neighbor, Daisy, and I had a curious relationship. Occasionally, she would say something quite bawdy - provocative but not really suggestive. She was a fair bit older - maybe old enough to be my mother - so the thoughts her ribald remarks triggered were that much more taboo. Today’s events only intensified that tension.

I got home from work to find a package from Amazon in my mail box. I had been expecting a new pen and ripped open the packaging and was shocked at the contents - a penis-shaped vibrator. I re-examined the packaging and realized it was addressed to Daisy, delivered to me by mistake. Now I had an awkward dilemma. I stuffed the dildo back in the padded envelope and walked next door. Daisy greeted me at the door and I saw through the foyer her friend, Sylvia, in the living room holding a glass of wine

“What’s up?” Daisy asked.

“Not much,” I replied. “I see you have company, I can come back later.”

“Nonsense,” Daisy countered. “Come on it and join us.” She poured me a glass and looked curiously at the distinctive envelope I was holding.

“So,” I began but paused. Admitting I had opened her package was now even more complicated by Sylvia’s presence. “They delivered your package to me and I opened it by mistake,” I blurted out. Daisy clearly knew the contents and grinned wryly.

“What is it?” Sylvia asked.

“A dildo,” Daisy answered matter of factly. She took the envelope from me, withdrew and opened the inner package to show her friend.

Sylvia took the proffered sex toy and inspected it closely. “My, you have been a very naughty boy,” she said to me, then to Daisy, “I think he deserves to be punished.”

“Punished, how?” Daisy replied, playing along with her friend.

“Punished, me, for opening a package that was misdelivered?” I asked.

Sylvia ignored me and spoke to Daisy, “Yes, he needs a good spanking.”

“On the bare?” Daisy asked

“Of course, how else is spanking applied to a naughty boy except on his bare backside,” Sylvia responded, like an expert on the topic that I was thinking she was.

“Go down the hall to my bedroom,” Daisy instructed. “Fetch the hairbrush on my dresser.”

“Hairbrush?” I asked.

“Yes, my preferred tool for warming a naughty bottom,” Daisy answered, “Always at the ready and always effective.” I strode down the hallway and realized I was rock hard. I returned a moment later and handed the brush to Daisy who was now sitting in the center of the sofa. She paused, contemplating the next move. “Get those pants and your underwear down,” she commanded. I complied and stood there briefly, bare from waist to knees, my erection bobbling conspicuously. “Over my knee,” she instructed and I lowered myself onto her lap.

She adjusted my position slightly and then began to whack my bare cheeks with the brush. It stung like nothing I had ever felt before and soon I was writhing and moaning in pain. She held me tight and continued the fusillade of fast, hard swats, the heat and pain in my derriere almost unbearable. Finally she paused and I felt her fingers carefully prodding my seared cheeks. “What do you think?” she asked Sylvia.

“I think you’ve made your point,” Sylvia replied. “If I were truly concerned the message had not yet been received, he has a fine looking belt for putting an exclamation point on your message.”

“I think we’ll leave that for another time,” Daisy countered. “His bottom is going to be plenty sore for quite a while.”

I stood and Sylvia pointed to my tumescence, “Shame to let that go to waste. Come here.” I waddled over to her, my pants and boxers around my ankles. She stroked me assertively and when she sensed I was near climax, she brought her mostly empty wine glass near and caught most of my ejaculate. She swirled the mixture and then tasted. “Mmmm. That’s scrumptious. Want to try,” she said to Daisy who took the glass and gulped the rest.