Natalie and Me

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Natalie and Me

By Susan Greenway

[This story involves spanking and caning, as well as play involving bodily functions. If any of this offends you, please read no further. All characters are 18 or over.]


I woke up refreshed and stood up and got myself together. Lately I do have to do this when I stand after lying for some time because I am dizzy and might lose balance if I didn’t give myself a moment. I hate the fact that this means I’m getting older and losing some of my capabilities. I made my way to the bathroom and sat down after pulling my pajama pants down.

Even though as usual in the morning, I had a full bladder, it took me a moment here as well for my stream to start. Then I was able to look down and see and hear my pee splashing into the bowl. I knew I would likely be ready to move my bowels after I’d had my usual several cups of coffee, so I did that and wiped myself carefully, front to back, and then stood up, got my bearings, and pulled up my pajama bottoms.

Then I spent some time at the sink, performing all my morning ablutions to my face and hands and body. Just as a lark, I even sprayed some perfume into my luxuriant bush, which is still red. I then returned to bed where my young lover and dominant was just rousing herself. I’m mostly dominant myself, mostly with some great friends who like me to take charge of them, but I do have a part of me that wants a young, strict woman to take me in hand. I only want this every so often so this was one of the occasional, almost monthly visits from Natalie.

She stood and I admired her lovely shape through her almost transparent short nightgown. She has that young, lithe, impudent body, with pert breasts and a shaved pussy that women my age, just about to go into menopause, cannot help but admire, even though I’m neither jealous nor envious. I’m mostly happy with myself and even my aging body. Her blondish, sandy-colored hair was cut into a neat bob. She motioned to me to lie down on the plastic sheet we had placed on the carpet at the end of the bed.

I knew what was in store. She took off her gown and was gorgeously nude. Then she squatted over my face and I stared up at her split, her lovely vulva with the nice-sized but not protuberant labia and her cute little button of a clit, as well as her small, sweet bottom-hole. She knows I am transfixed in this position, even though I knew she was about to pee, because I love staring up and not knowing at other times which of her holes might open and deposit its contents on my face.

I never tired of staring up into Natalie’s gorgeous quim and demure little anal opening. Her pudendal beauty was totally intoxicating to me. I savored my view of her lovely region between her legs. I realized that all she had to do to dominate me was to allow me to gaze on this delectable vision.

It didn’t take long for her strong stream to shoot out of her urethra and douse my face before I could keep my mouth open to receive her strong, golden pee. It had that smell of morning concentrated urine. I couldn’t contain such a heavy flow of strong-tasting urine in my mouth so some of it dripped over my chin onto me and onto the plastic sheet. The pee on the sheet cooled quickly and I thought of the first lines in Joyce’s Portrait of the Artist when he says how when you wet the bed, first it’s warm and then it gets cold.

Natalie told me to lick her dry and I could tell she was annoyed that I had spilled some of her pee. I went to extra effort to lick her lovely split clean and when I lay back down, she told me that I would be disciplined for failing to swallow all of her sweet pee. She stood up and had me bend over the side of the bed. I am required to keep my face forward so I did not see her find her favorite thin cane. Then I heard her whistle it through the air in a test swing. She lay it on my bare bottom and drew it back. Then with a flick of her small wrist, she gave me the first stinging stroke and I let out only a small moan of surprise as well as pain.

Despite her youth, she was an expert at caning and carefully placed her strokes beneath each other as she proceeded down my bottom. She eventually reached the tender area of the crease between bottom and thigh and when she struck there, I did scream. I could tell she was annoyed as she had been in a bad mood since she awakened. We had made love last night and I had thought we had fallen asleep in each other’s arms happy and content.

She clearly felt differently, however, and I knew it wasn’t just because I hadn’t managed to ingest all of her pee. After all, that often happened and it didn’t always result in a severe caning for me. But now she had me stand, let me get my bearings again, and made me spread my legs widely apart. I now began to have true fear because I knew what would come next.

Having me in this position with the thin but whippy cane in her hand meant that she was about to punish me with a very scary punishment. She placed the cane down poker oyna near the ground right between my legs and then snapped it up, lightly, so it struck me right in my pussy. We both knew from the erotic stories we both enjoyed that this was what was called a Mistress’s Stroke. I did scream from both the shock and the pain.

I did know that when she decided to award me one of these strokes that did inspire a kind of terror, she would hit lightly, to avoid injury to the sensitive places, not just my labia, clit, peehole, and entry to my vagina, but to less familiar organs that can be injured by a cane stroke. I once had my Bartholin’s gland get irritated when I was younger and it blew up like a tiny balloon and hurt terribly.

“You’re going to be a good girl today, aren’t you?” Natalie then asked me. I responded by saying calmly, “Yes, Miss Natalie, I will behave properly and follow your directions at all times.”

“Yes, you will,” she said bluntly, “or you will get more of those. I realize that I need to get you past your pride and resultant resistance to submitting totally to me. Tomorrow you will be put back in diapers and if you are good, I will then let you wear little girly panties that will be quite tight. Bras are for big girls, not little ones who get spankings, so you will go without your bra until I decide to allow it to be worn.”

I was getting used to this punishment, because I knew she believed in this as a way of first shaming me but then instilling submission and appreciation for privileges that might be then allotted based on my behaving in a manner which she approved and expected.

As I said, it may not seem that way but most of the time, except for this almost monthly weekend, I am myself a true dominant. My friends want to be spanked and caned and humiliated by me, with me alone or in front of a group of them. My husband has been very kind in knowing about both my dominant and submissive needs; he is totally vanilla and has no interest in all of this but he knows I need it so he never tries to convince me otherwise. I do discipline errant husbands brought to me by my friends. I feel less and less sympathetic for these men, but I continue to be amazed that they will accept their wives’ decisions to bring them to me for punishment.

Natalie then laid out a set of clothes for me. She does this when we get together like this. I keep some clothes that are reserved for these almost monthly visits. So there was a cute little green skirt and a white middie blouse, with white socks and then the brown oxfords we had found for my schoolgirl uniform. No bra, of course, a childish vest instead, and now I was in little girly panties under my skirt.

After I dressed and we had breakfast, Natalie took me out. We went to the nearby mall. They now had a Spanx store and we went in. Natalie asked about a certain pair of panties with which she seemed to be familiar. The salesgirl looked at me and came back with a package. She paid for it and we left with a sack containing the packaged panties.

We went into the mall restroom. Natalie led me to the large handicapped stall and after we entered, she snapped the clasp to keep the door closed. Then she opened the package and took out the flesh-colored panties. They were very high-waisted. Natalie had me lift my skirt and she slipped off my little panties, which were still clean. Then she had me pull the Spanx panties on. They did fit me but were snug. Mainly they were because they were control panties.

When I had them all the way up, Natalie reached down to the crotch and there was a slit there that she pressed her fingers in. They pushed in and went right into my quim. She told me that the slit was there for me to use when I needed to go to the bathroom, so I needn’t have to pull down the tight panties. I envisioned having to pee in them and it seemed tricky. But she said that would not be hard so long as I held the slit opened all the way.

Then she smiled and said it would likely take me a while to learn to make a doody and not have it stain the edges of the slit or miss the slit and end up in my crotch. I said I hoped she didn’t expect me to be able to make a doody and have it go out of the slit without soiling anything.

She could see that this worried me. Since she often supervised my defecating, she knew that when I excreted, I produced long, fairly thick bowel movements. After one of my formidable expulsions, I had this delicious cleaned-out feeling. Now I would have to be concentrating totally on making certain that the doody was aimed right at the open slit and then hold the slit open as the long turd slithered through it.

She grinned and said that I would be punished if I did not defecate without soiling the panties. I was afraid of this whole aspect of the control panties but I also knew I was excited by the prospect of getting poo in my panties and being spanked for doing that. And then I reminded myself that the control panties were better than having to canlı poker oyna wear a diaper.

Natalie did not let me use the toilet while we were in the mall bathroom and I knew not to get her angry by requesting permission. I just told myself I had to hold it in. When she knows I need to pee, she loves to put me off by saying that now isn’t a convenient time or else she takes me into the bathroom and makes me sit on the toilet seat with my panties up. This of course makes me even more anxious to be permitted to pee but that must give her a charge because she may even let me take down my panties but then pull them back up before being allowed to go.

The only reason I’m going on about this is that it still comes up in my mind when Natalie is in charge of me. She is young and pretty and very dominant. She knows how to arouse me by embarrassment and humiliation. I love her confidence and that she dresses nicely. There’s something in me that really needs this. I think it’s true for a good number of people, but I don’t know for sure. Every time I read that more and more adults seem to be interested in spanking between and among adults, never children, I figure I’m far from alone in my orientation.

Just as the alternation or mixture of pleasure and pain when I’m with Natalie is a huge turn-on, we also both enjoy our nights in bed together. This is an area in which she still can learn from me as to what especially pleases a woman. I do use all my knowledge and experience to excite her and take her over the top. She does cum in a real rush and makes me feel that I’ve made her happy. She also gets me off and that is not difficult for her because I’m very arousable.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m defiantly bi and my husband also can excite me and make me very very happy. But Natalie has learned many ways to do this, some of them from me, and she succeeds. As a dominant, this pleases her no end. We all have the kinks we love and ones we may not abhor but would just rather pass on. I don’t get any charge from enemas, for example, and I don’t have anal intercourse with anyone, but I love her finger in my butt.

Those nerve endings inside my anal opening are very sexually sensitive. I can also take a plug but the feeling of a finger going in there is marvelous. She also can fig me, and even though it stings, it is exciting and humiliating, just as it is to have a rectal thermometer sticking out of your hole. It’s wonderfully demeaning and takes me back to childhood, where I didn’t like it but wasn’t at all so developed at an early age as to enjoy it in any way.

I think my mother realized how much it shamed me to have her stick that in my hiney hole when I was growing up and especially when I was a teenager. She did spank me, too, and that was not something I liked then either. But it must have done something for me because by the time I was almost out of high school, I liked spanking others and being spanked. I was ripe for a sorority in college, even though when I was in school, they were regarded as snobby and reactionary. At least they were by most of my friends.

But the spanking or paddling part was a total turn-on and I knew it was for other girls in my pledge class. Then I became a sister and did more of the spanking. These 18-year-olds came in after rushing and all of a sudden, they’re in a room with us and they’re pulling down their panties and bending over and assuming the position. We freaked them out by making them spread their legs and commenting on the appearance of each of their pussies.

When Natalie visits, we go to parties given by people who are into things like spanking. Usually when we get there, Natalie will start questioning me in front of others, whom I may or may not know, about my most personal things, like my period or my toilet habits. Soon, I am likely to lose my cool at the huge embarrassment she brings on me and I make some wiseass remark.

Then she asks the hostess if she can use a strong chair to spank this naughty girl. Usually the woman smiles and says, “Of course, dear. Use the one over there.”

I am summoned by her index finger. And as I position myself, with my panties already down, across her skirted lap, the whole room pauses and stares. It still is not the most usual thing to see a grown woman bared and lying across another woman’s lap about to be spanked.

Natalie smiled and said she was sorry for disturbing everyone but that I had been naughty and naughty girls do need to be spanked, don’t they? There were quiet sounds of agreement among the crowd, which ranged between my 43 and Natalie’s 25 in age.

A well-dressed woman commented loudly enough for us to hear, “One would think that at her age, she would have learned to behave by now. But then again, I might even enjoy getting spanked by that lovely young lady.”

Natalie smiled at the compliment and waved to her, indicating only by silently moving her lips right at the well-dressed woman: “Want to be next?”

She spanked internet casino me steadily until everyone could see that my bottom was getting redder. She had to humiliate me more by reaching between my legs, inserting a finger into my wet quim, and then holding it up, telling the group that it was evident that this turned me on.

I was always torn about my feelings for Natalie. Whatever they were, they were powerful. She was a marvelous lover and I also loved being disciplined by her. She seemed to enjoy both sides of her personality.

She really knew how to cane. I liked her when she was caning because she seemed so demure and yet ferocious in her assault on my bottom. She would always begin by ceremoniously raising my skirt and lowering my panties. Then I would be lectured on why I was a naughty girl. Natalie liked to inspect my panties and if she found one tiny spot or stain, that was enough for a caning.

This was so exciting for me that I dreamed about being caned severely by Natalie. She would stand behind me, lay the cane lightly on my bottom, draw it back, and flick it with her wrist just enough for it to snap on my bottom and cause a sting and then tram lines. She never would say how many strokes I was getting and she liked to just give them to you until she felt you had been given a major punishment.

Natalie could affect such a pleasant manner but it belied her underlying dominant persona. She would always smile when she engaged in seemingly whimsical impositions of discipline. She could be a loving bed partner one minute and suddenly, smiling still, tell me that I was going to be spanked for my effrontery in daring to let out a fart in bed.

She sensed my excitement at being embarrassed in front of friends. Although she had not criticized my behavior at all that day, when we were conversing at the lunch table with my good friends Andrea and Ellen, she might grin as she would offhandedly announce that because I had stained my panties, she was going to spank me right then in front of them.

I would be made to stand and lift my little skirt, revealing a pair of little girly panties with bunnies on them. Natalie would take the panties down, exposing my bush and vulva, and summon me across her lap with her forefinger. Then she would start spanking as my friends watched my bottom become redder with each spank. Then she might take her wooden hairbrush from her handbag and ask Andrea if she would be so kind as to spank me with the brush.

My panties still at my knees, I would hobble over to Andrea and lay across her lap. The brush awakened me to the gravity of the punishment. I was surprised when my good friend ran her fingers through my furrow and said to both Natalie and Ellen that it was obvious that being spanked excited me.

Now my face was as red as my bottom was getting to be. Ellen got into the act, too, when she said to Andrea that she thought Natalie had done a good job of “training” me by having me wear the little girly panties. It became clear to me that both Andrea and Ellen, both of whom I often dominated, enjoyed mightily their chance to turn the tables on me.

After Andrea had finished spanking me, I was allowed to stand and pull the little panties up and let my skirt down. I whispered to Natalie that I needed to pee badly. She smiled and announced, “Susan has advised me that she needs to pee very badly. Do you think she should be allowed to go?”

Both women grinned and told Natalie that I should be permitted to relieve my bladder but that I should have to squat over a bowl in front of all three of them.

Natalie said she appreciated their suggestion and saw a bowl nearby on a shelf that we had used for this purpose in the past. She pulled up my skirt and pinned it up above my waist. Then she pulled down my little panties again and left them at my knees. I was then told to squat facing Andrea and Ellen.

They both stared at my prominent bush and Ellen mentioned that it might be fun to have me hold my labia open. I was then curtly told to do that by Natalie and I squatted there with my hands holding my puffy labia open and the pink inside me visible. Finally, I felt ready to pee and asked Miss Natalie for permission to start peeing.

“Do you think we are ready for her to start peeing?” she asked Andrea and Ellen as if this was a question of great consequence. I meanwhile was starting to worry that I would have trouble holding my pee in when in this awful squatting posture with my labia held apart.

Suddenly, I lost control and the pee spurted out into the bowl with a loud ping.

“Oh, some little girl has been very naughty,” Natalie said condescendingly. “Go ahead and pee and then you will have to be disciplined for your misbehaving.”

I was embarrassed as I kept peeing for quite some time. I really did have to go.

Finally, it stopped. Natalie made me wipe myself down there and then get back over her lap. She reached for some Vaseline and used her finger to insert it in my bottom-hole. Then she reached into her handbag and pulled out a rectal thermometer which she carefully placed into my rectum.

I knew how ridiculous I looked with that thermometer sticking out of my asshole.

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