“'You really like getting it back there, don't you, honey?' she said while we were doing the breakfast dishes.
“'Uh-huh.'
“I still felt sort of embarrassed about the whole thing. It's so queer. I mean, I don't really mind doing it. I love it. But talking about it sort of gets me up tight. That's funny, isn't it?
“We kept off sex the rest of the day. Neither of us mentioned it at all. We went to the Metropolitan Art Museum and spent the whole afternoon there, then we had dinner in a swank restaurant, spent some time on Fifth Avenue in places like Saks, and I bought some new clothes. Eileen just absolutely insisted on that. She made me get them, picked them out, in fact, and bought them. I found I just loved having her make decisions and do things for me. It wasn't like a mother doing it, or an older sister; well, maybe it could be something like that. It was really more like being taken care of by a very gentle man. Yet, there's absolutely nothing mannish in the way Eileen looks and the way she acts. I mean, she's really very feminine in appearance. She's beautiful. I think she's much prettier than me with that long dark hair, and her figure is gorgeous, too. Her clothes are very chic. But she likes to take care of people. She gets something out of that. She likes the protective bit, likes running people's lives, some would say, and, above all, she adores doing things to me that give me pleasure.
“I discovered that I really liked being submissive. I hadn't known before that I did. In fact, I'd always thought of myself as being sort of an independent type. But, boy, was I wrong about that part. I love to lean. I really do. Where sex is concerned, I just love to let Eileen do everything; I want her to decide when we do it, and for her to do absolutely everything and for me to be completely passive and submissive. I like to have her undress me, penetrate me, do everything. And she's the opposite. She likes me to be submissive. She likes to do everything; she gets a real bang out of that. So I'm glad she answered that ad because we're just meant for each other. We're perfect. We couldn't be more perfect if we were an ideally matched husband and wife.
“But I have to tell what happened when we came back to her apartment. We had a few drinks and stuff, and then she started going into this other mood, started acting very stern and bossy. She also started scolding me, but in a peculiar sort of way. It was more like she was acting out something, like we were in a play.
“How it started was like this. We were doing the dishes. Eileen washed, and I dried. One of the cups was slippery with soap, fell out of my hands and smashed.
“'You clumsy bitch,' she snarled. 'Now you're going to get it!'
“'I… I'm sorry,' I whimpered.
“'Sorry? Well, I'll give you something to make you sorry!'
“I found myself trembling all over when she said that, but it wasn't from fright, and it wasn't because I thought Eileen was really mad at me. It was different. It was just like it was when she did me with the dildoe.
“Suddenly she produced this birch. I don't know where it came from. We were right there in the kitchen.
“'All right,' she said savagely, 'now you're going to get it. Pull up your dress, take down your panties, and bend over.'
“'Oh no, Eileen, please, please, I won't do it again!' I felt like a little girl again, like I did when Mom paddled me on the bare bottom. I'd forgotten about those times. I was all excited.
“'Go on,' she said, 'pull up your dress.'
“Right there in the kitchen, I did as she said. I pulled up my skirt, way up above my waist, slid down my panties, and bent over on the counter. My bottom felt so bare, and it was so humiliating. I blushed and blushed, and all the time I felt humiliated and was blushing I just enjoyed it.
Swoosh! She stung me on the backside and I yelped. It burned like mad. It hurt, and I mean it really hurts, but I liked it. Swish! Swish! Swish! Swish!
” 'Oh, Eileen, please, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts!' I wailed. I sobbed and wriggled my bottom.
“'Are you going to do that again?'
“'No, Eileen, no, please, please, please don't!'
“She was driving me wild. My pussy was just dripping. Oh, it was painful and sweet all at the same time. Swish! Swish! Swish! Swish! Boy, what a spanking she gave me!
“I was really crying, and I'm not fooling one bit when I say it hurt, because it did. But the funny thing about the whole thing was that I knew that she wasn't really mad at all and that she was actually loving me this way, and that as much as it hurt I really dug it. I've read about masochists, and I know about this flagellation stuff, but, again, I'd never thought I was one of those. I must really be queer. I seem to like just about everything that's way out. But I guess that's the way I am, though.
“What happened after the spanking was really a gas. Eileen led me into the bedroom, making me keep holding my dress up. Then she sat down on the bed and drew me over her lap so that my-bare bottom was right there in front of her. On the way in I got a glimpse of my ass in the mirror and it was all red and streaked, and, somehow, that got me excited, too. Gosh, sex is funny! The nuttiest things can turn you on.
“Anyhow, there I was over her lap, feeling like I was about eight years old and she was my mom. I sort of liked that feeling. My bottom was stinging like mad. I thought she'd probably paddle me some more, and I didn't know whether or not I could stand it, but I decided that I'd just have to.
“Instead, something else happened. I felt her very gently rubbing salve over my flesh back there, cool, soothing salve, and then she started cooing to me real gentle, as if she hadn't paddled me at all, but that it had been some other mean and brutal woman, and she was a very gentle, kind, and loving big sister.
“'Poor little Karen,' she whispered over and over again. 'Poor baby, sweet baby. Oh, I love you so much… I'll take away all the sting and hurt.'
“That was wonderful. I liked it more than I did the paddling, although I had to admit that the two went together, and that this wouldn't be half as nice if there wasn't the paddling first. Gradually my cheeks cooled down and the sting and burn subsided.
“I thought that would probably be all to this little episode, but something else happened. I felt something hard and thick push between my buttocks and press against my anus. I gasped when it suddenly slid in, and when I looked back to see what she was doing to me I saw that she was pushing the nozzle of a douche syringe, one of those bulb deals, up my backside. It hurt a little, like the dildoe, but I was getting real used to that now. I think my sphincter muscles were relaxing more now. Anyway, the sensation was terrific. I pressed up with my bottom to help her get it in. Oh, how I wanted it in. And as she slid it up to the hilt she squeezed the bulb and squirted the water up my rectum. Oooooh, it was such a wonderful enema. I just came on the spot I was so excited. I kept moaning and moaning, begging her to push it in and give me more. She had a pan by the bed with soapy water in it, and after filling the syringe a second time she pushed it up me again and squeezed. That was more than I could stand and I came a second time. By then I had to go desperately.
“That evening, after we went to bed, Eileen made love to me again, just the same as the last time. She cuddled me in her arms, made me feel like a little kid in a way, and also like a very helpless and beautiful girl in the arms of a very strong man. She could make me feel one way or the other. She whispered in my ear in this sort of husky voice, kissed me, and let her tongue push between my teeth and into my mouth; she then started biting my breasts, just the nipples, and massaging them. Then she started in on me with the dildoe, rammed it up my backside, and I do mean rammed, and pumped me like fury. It hurt like blazes. I felt like she was ripping me apart.
“'Ow! Ohhhhhhhhhh. Ow! Owwwwwwwww!' I moaned. But I loved it. In fact, I liked it better when she was brutal with me than when she was gentle. I came twice.”