When life gets too much. You become disillusioned with life. You go to work to exist, life and especially love and emotion is sucked out of the very marrow of your bones. This was me. My name is Teresa, I prefer to be called Teri, although to be honest I don’t give a shit anymore.
At work I just kept my head down. I know I was the office joke. My sexy life was like an arid desert, and I heard more than one person remark that my vagina had healed up through lack of use. Not totally of course, they didn’t know what I got up to at night did they!
Then, when I was having dinner, alone as usual, just as I had done since I divorced ten years ago, I was leafing through this magazine. Most of it was the usual crap. Enhanced images of women with seemingly more exciting lives than mine. Then I saw an advert which caught my attention, mainly because of the nature of its outrageous content. A bit risqué too for the magazine in question. It was offering Spanking Therapy. I didn’t know such a thing existed. I ignored it and ate my dinner.
After watching a soap, I headed to bed and there I kept thinking about this advert and more so it’s remedial qualities. First of all, and the biggest surprise, was he was only interested in engaging with women of 45 and over! Wow, I’d just scraped in. Little old dried up me, on the scrap heap at 45! Its location was reasonably close too. But reading down it had got even more interesting. He was in his 60s, no spring chicken, but I doubted he was on a zimmer frame. He made a remark which resonated – “Remember - you won't always be motivated, but you can learn to be disciplined.”
He offered “Disciplinary Spanking - A type of spanking suited to those who needed to account for their behaviour, when their deeds fell short of expectation. Issues of guilt which could be and purged so your life could proceed, be put back on the rails. There was spanking for bad behaviour too. I recognised those big time. I’d become a nasty spiteful bitch who drove everyone away. That needed fixing. Therapy Spanking too. I know I lacked confidence and had low self esteem. It promised I’d be left with a relaxed and peaceful state of mind which would enable me to tackle life with renewed energy and vigour. That all sounded too good to be true. There was an email address as promised. I smiled and dismissed it – something to consider perhaps.
I’m a terrible procrastinator. This time was no exception. In the end, I sent a reply for no other reason than I’d maybe think about it less. Even then I hoped for a reply, saying the email address I’d used was invalid. But it wasn’t, I had a reply of sorts. An automatic reply. I guess I’d hear more later, assuming the words I’d used fitted the profile of whom he sought to “improve.” The thing is, I did hear back, and we met over lunch. An older man who played me like a trout he’d hooked in a fast-flowing stream.
I’m writing this in hindsight. I’ve visited David Scott and I’ve got a striped arse and a sore anus to show for the near five hours I spent there. But here is the thing, afterwards, after I’d been spanked and caned and I’d howled louder than a wolf in winter, I was shown around a sinister room. A stout bench was placed centre stage. It had one single purpose, that to restrain a victim. Her torso and front half sloping down. Wrists and upper arms secured with straps. Another around her waist. A HER, never a HIM. More straps securing ankles, calfs and upper thighs. Bared buttocks ready to be flayed with a cane.
It seemed there were three women who came regularly for a severe judicial caning. 50 strokes minimum it seemed. I realised as he described their respective fates, I was no longer going to walk around with dry vaginal lips running and equally dried skin cells leaving a dusty trail as I walked, I was now well lubricated. I was fucking aroused as hell! My fate was then decided when I asked if I could sit in and watch the next flogging. I even suggested participation. That is when everything that happened since started. What that was and all so frighteningly closer than comfort dictated you’ll have to read Sadistic Liaisons, a hot and dirty lesbian spanking read by the mistress of BDSM – Sadie Stern.
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