Sister Wife

Chapter Two-2

Her name was Evelyn, and she was a riding instructor at a high-end equestrian facility in the pretty countryside of the stunning high desert that made Utah such a tourist destination. She was tall, only a few inches shorter than Jason’s six feet four inches, and slender, with short cropped sandy brown hair, enormous cornflower blue eyes, tanned but slightly sun wrinkled skin, and the perfectly toned legs and derriere of someone who had ridden many hours each day for most of her life. It turned out she was from New Zealand and spoke with the delightful Kiwi accent that Americans almost always find quite charming. Jason felt quite pleased with her when she strode out to unlock the gate to the stables on the Saturday evening when they had agreed to meet and discuss their mutual kink and whether or not they could be of erotic use to each other.

In preparation for this first tryst of his life, Jason had done his usual rather compulsive research that so endeared him to all of his teachers and mentors at the University. In his internet investigations he had happened across a female author of b**m novels that were his most surefire aids in getting turned on and jacked off. She seemed to hit just the right mix of psychological insight, smoking hot action, and an insistence that her femsubs be genuinely into what was being done to them. Meanwhile her maledoms always saw to it that their partners got off at least as intensely as whatever travails their naughty bottoms had to endure to atone for their admitted wickedness. Further, the author had an obsessive fascination with the most excruciatingly intimate details of what was done both to punish and pleasure her usually likeable characters. This meant that her books were a detailed instructional in how to top a woman in exactly the way that Jase wanted. He had explained all this to Evelyn, and she downloaded a few of his favorites and found them to be, as she put it in her Kiwi frankness, ‘the hottest bleedin’ c**t-lit she’d run across in years.’ So coming into his first s****l encounter with anything other than his hand in his young life, our hero felt as prepared as he could be...in addition, of course, to being nervous as hell.

As the general manager (and owner) of her barn, Evelyn lived on the property and acted as caretaker. Such an arrangement suited her fierce protectiveness of her beloved horses since she was available 24/7 for any emergencies. This meant that after sundown and once the grooms had left after putting all of their charges to bed in their stables and paddocks, she locked the gates and had all hundred acres completely to herself. Among other things, this rather extreme degree of privacy made her spare but comfortable bungalow the perfect setting for an after-hours tryst. Especially one that was likely to produce the sort of noise that Jason’s housemates would have found difficult to ignore, if not worthy of a 911 call.

The nervous but fiercely excited young man had dressed in his best Khakis and no-iron light blue long sleeved shirt rolled up as was his custom as he pressed the call button and identified himself to his hostess. She triggered the automatic gate and he drove his beaten up but mechanically functional old Toyota Corolla inside to park as instructed in front of her adobe bungalow with its standard Southwest red-tiled roof. Evelyn opened her front door and smiled broadly as her guest was even more handsome and virile in person as he had been in his online snapshots. That medium failed to capture his six foot four inch height or exactly how broad his muscular shoulders were, let alone how dishily muscly his forearms looked under his rolled up sleeves. Seeing these, she could not help but imagine how hard they might propel any spanks delivered by the powerful hands whose strength she could feel in his warm but restrained handshake as he introduced himself,

“Hi Evelyn, I’m Jason. I’ve been looking forward to this moment for what seems like a long time, though I appreciate how careful you’ve been about arranging our meeting.” She abandoned her almost loopy wide grin to reply,

“Hullo, Jyson. Yer royt, a guhl cahnt be too cayuhful these dyes, ispeshly if she wahnts to retyne huh riputayshin in a small taoun loik this. C’mon insoid and Oil offuh yew somefing caold t’ drink!”

(The author will now stop trying, however pathetically, to reproduce Evelyn’s Kiwi accent, but hopefully you get the idea)

Our hero and his hostess felt a surge of erotic electricity between them as they brushed past each other in the doorway. Evelyn (which she pronounce EEvln) was dressed in a muted plaid cowgirl shirt tucked into tight well-worn Levis that quite intentionally emphasized her taut derriere, which she rightly regarded as her most attractive feature. She was small-breasted, as Jason preferred in his fantasies, and seemed not to be wearing a brassiere if he could judge by the sharp outlines her erect n*****s made through the worn fabric of her blouse. The room into which she ushered him was a classic Southwest sala that she showed him around with evident pride. He liked the Mexican tile floors, light tan stuccoed internal walls decorated with Indian blankets (of excellent quality, his experience in the Cult informed him) and Georgia O’Keefe landscape prints (all vaguely suggestive of the naked female form in various parts). The furniture was of high quality and leather upholstered, but well worn and quite functional, consisting of two overstuffed arm chairs and a small couch all grouped around a low hardwood coffee table with the sofa facing a fireplace that was not lit in the warm evening air. To one side was a dining nook with a small antique oaken table with four sturdy armless chairs around it. The small spotless kitchen was next to the dining nook with a pass through tiled to match the floor, as were the kitchen counters. All smelled of desert sage, which grew profusely in the garden and bouquets of which were placed on several tables around the room. The low incandescent lighting shed a warm glow over the room in the deepening dusk, setting a very romantic mood. Finally, Evelyn led her guest to a door to what Jason assumed was the bathroom and bedroom stood open opposite the dining nook. He could see a large four-poster bed with a burlwood headboard and a footboard consisting of finished 4 inch local logs like the posts. His hostess flushed overtly even through her horsewoman’s tan as they both registered the potential meaning of that bed while she fetched him the ice water that he requested while she poured herself a beer.

Once they sat down on the couch, Jason took a sip of his water (which remarkably eased his suddenly parched mouth) and took control,

“So Evelyn, I need you to answer a question for me, a very important one that could have quite severe consequences for a certain rather attractive part of yourself that those Levis show off just as well as I suspect you intended. Are you ready?”

The older woman flushed and nodded through her somewhat nervous smile. She always felt this way before a scene, no matter how familiar her dom was, but especially so with someone new. She nodded seriously and licked her lips as if to prepare her mouth to work properly before Jase went on,

“I need you to tell me something honestly, young lady. Have you been bad?”

There it was, the inquiry that opened the door to the necessity of corporal punishment as the only proper response to her self declared wickedness. She knew he would not go through it with her unless she very specifically invited him:

“Yes, Jason, I’ve been bad.”

“How bad have you been, Evelyn?”

“Very, very bad, Jason, as bad as a girl could be.”

“And what have you done that is so wicked?”

“I’ve solicited a man half my age to come to my house to have s*x with me.”

“That sounds very serious. Is there more?”

“...Yes... I fantasized about him while I was playing with myself...down there...and gave myself several killer orgasms while thinking about all the things I wanted him to do with me.”

“Did you have permission to touch yourself sexually or to expropriate his image for your own illicit pleasure?”

“No...I didn’t even think to ask.”

“It sounds like you are not exaggerating how bad a girl you have been, Evelyn. What do you think should happen to very naughty girls who have been this wicked?”

“I think they need a very thorough spanking.”

“Where should that spanking be administered?”

“...To their bottoms.”

“What state should their bottoms be in to receive this prescription you are making?”

“They should have their clothes taken off and be naked as part of their punishment to make them ashamed.”

“I see. That sounds like the right answer to me. What should such bad girls be spanked on their naked bottom with?”

“They’ve been too bad to just get one spanking with one implement. I think their punishment should start out with being spanked with a big strong man’s hard right hand. Then they should be spanked again with the back of my wooden hairbrush just like my Mum always used to do when I was back at home. And then they would need to get a good strong dose of the belt just like my Da gave me when Mum’s best efforts still didn’t get through to me.”

“That sounds right, Evelyn. You have been very brave to ask for what you need. I believe such courage should be rewarded so I will give you exactly what you have asked for, but with a few...alterations. First of all, since you were playing with yourself when you sinned, I think you should be doing so when you are punished. So while I am spanking you, your naughty hand will be busy with your dirty little cunt and each of your spankings will only end when you’ve gotten yourself off. And second, right now I want you to stand and take off your clothes so I can see you naked. Once I’ve had my fill of looking at you and touching you wherever I please, you are going to hold my gaze while you give yourself an orgasm with me watching. Has anyone ever made you do that for them before?”

“No, Jason...it will be so embarrassing I think I might die from the shame! It will make me feel so...dirty...”

“Not nearly as dirty as you’re going to feel after your third spanking, my very bad girl. I happen to believe that those like myself who work hard to correct the behavior of very bad girls deserve to be rewarded for their arduous efforts at such a demanding task. So once your bottom cheeks are burning like fire from three long hard spankings, I’m going to part them and f**k you right between them in your tight little bottom hole. Has anyone ever done that to you?”

“Yes, Jason...but not with anything half as big as your c**k, judging by how it’s tenting your khakis. It will hurt me very much, I’m sure, just as I deserve for being so wicked.”

“I’m glad you agree, Evelyn. Did the people who sodomized you before me make you play with your p***y while they were taking you through your back door?”

“No, Jason, no one’s ever made me do that.”

“Good. Well I’m going to f**k your well-spanked ass until you come one last time before we will be done for the night. I will want you to have a safe word that you can say any time you decide you’re no longer willing to submit to my discipline. If you say the word ‘Forever’, then I will leave immediately and you’ll never hear from me again. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Jason, quite clear.”

“Good! Then why don’t you stand up and strip for me, and I’ll have a good thorough look at and feel of what I have to work with for the rest of what should be a nice long evening for you!”

Jason had almost scripted his side of this exchange from his years of fantasizing and reading about just this situation combined with his powerful desire to take control of this first encounter right from the start. He knew he was compensating for his sense of inadequacy compared to this lovely woman twice his age who undoubtedly was vastly more experienced in these matters than him. But years of surviving at the margin of society had taught him the virtue of ‘fake it ‘til you make it’ as a good strategy for a young man trying to make his way through a hostile and demanding world. He could not have been more excited as he stood on the precipice of diving into a world he had longed for as long as he could remember having s****l thoughts.