The Spinster's Exploits

The opening of a little something I wrote a while back…

Becky knew she was in trouble. She knew that although she usually had all the answers she often didn’t manage to put them into place. She could see life coaching made sense. She knew from her counselling experience that just telling someone your intentions often made it easier to actually do something.

The idea of cyber–coaching was intriguing The as well as practical. She knew she’d meet her coach face-to-face as necessary – Well, she thought uncomfortably, not exactly face-to-face as he was clear to point out his unusual methods… the contract was very clear. She would only agree to tasks they both decided were reasonable, achievable and in her best interests. He would encourage her and if she failed to keep her side of the contract she would be spanked.

Becky realised that finding a life-coach on the spanking site was unusual, but as she was an unpublished writer of the genre it wasn’t surprising she browsed there. She was open to admitting that she fantasised about spanking but she was definitely not looking for real-life experience; at least that’s what she told herself. She also told herself that as she was scrupulous about honouring contracts she would have an additional incentive to keep to her resolutions. She didn’t want to end up skirts raised and knickers down over a stranger’s lap did she? At least that’s another thing she told herself…

There were so many reasons she hadn’t kept up her carefully planned resolutions. Life was so complicated. She knew this was true but if she wasn’t too proud to have admitted this, she was confident that the Coach would have been reasonable and suggested rescheduling. But, no, Becky had struggled on determinedly and pig-headedly and the result was just more chaos. Deep down she knew she was probably testing boundaries to find out if the Coach was ‘a safe pair of hands’. She shivered as she thought about the plans those ‘safe hands’ now had for her. She realised her spanking was going to be more about attitude, trust and boundaries than incomplete tasks.

And so the very grown-up, independent Becky found herself stood on the Coach’s doorstep, shaking with dread, anticipation and no little sexual excitement. Of course Becky tried to deny the excitement; why that would almost mean admitting she had engineered this! She was wearing a simple frock that was full-skirted and mid-calf in length. Although Becky was a big woman she liked to be unrestricted and her big breasts rested easily in the slightly fitted bodice of her frock. She didn’t realise that despite the warmth of the day, her nipples were stiff with excitement and clearly visible through her cotton dress. She preferred stockings to tights and her smart, dark hosiery were held up by a pretty black suspender belt. She was glad she’d worn her high-heeled sandals as they made her feel sexy and confident usually, but as her legs trembled she wondered if they were such a good idea. Becky was wide-hipped and wore high-cut black French knickers. They covered most of her big bottom and gently flared out under her dress as she stood there on the Coach’s doorstep. They did not quite cover the whole of her generous bum and she knew the lower curve of her cheeks would be visible if she raised her dress. She also knew that if she bent over (and she knew she would be doing so) her knickers would tighten over her rump and leave part of her poor bottom exposed for his ministrations. She also knew that although her first spanking would be over her knickers, she was also to receive further punishment that the Coach had described as ‘on the bare…’

Becky liked to be punctual and had ensured she’d allowed plenty of time to be ringing his bell at the exact hour they had agreed. As well as her notes, and usual feminine paraphernalia her handbag contained the frighteningly solid wooden hairbrush she’d been instructed to buy and bring. Becky tried to convince herself that her shopping trip to Debenhams had not left her weak kneed with excitement as well as dread. Becky was a liberated woman and had no problems with coming to terms with her need for occasional solo-pleasure. She may not be in the habit of rushing for her vibrator after a shopping trip but it was probably her hormones, she told herself. She knew she couldn’t really kid herself. As Becky had worn down her batteries and thought about sliding that solid wooden handle into herself she imagined the Coach making firmer use of the flat head on her terrified bum. She told herself once more that she was only interested in fantasy as she heard him approach the door…