This short story is an entry in the 2001 Soc.Sexuality.Spanking Summer Short Story Contest and is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission. Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice. The author would appreciate your comments
Category: Adult
The Rocking Horse
By
Alex Birch <alexbirch@blueyonder.co.uk>
Alison tiptoed down the hallway like a child who should be elsewhere. She pinched herself to remember that this was their home, a dream come true for her 20th wedding anniversary present. When they saw the brochure, Alison and the kids fell in love with the house immediately and today was Christening day!!. Tony unpacked downstairs, the kids went exploring and Alison went to inspect the big bedrooms. Pushing open the first oak door, she looked inside. The room was large and musty, heavy drapes across the window and, in the corner ....she felt the colour rush to her face and a sudden surge of dampness between her legs....a rocking horse.
Was that here before? Left behind she supposed. She gulped and edged towards it , guiltily turning, but Tony was still downstairs. Like a mischievous child she eased up her tight skirt and put her foot in the stirrups, sliding her other leg over the saddle. She leaned forward and hung onto the horse's neck, feeling the gentle rhythm begin as the horse moved back and forth.
She had done this before more than once, in circumstances which , even now brought colour to her cheeks and a terrible guilt. She held onto the old horse's neck, increasing the speed as she used to be ordered, then eased her dress further up for a little freedom of movement. Her face burned, her mind tormented with shame, relieved that Tony and the kids knew none of her thoughts.
"Is that how Sister Agnes used to have you on the horse ?" Tony said from the doorway and Alison squealed. "I..I didn't hear you...what..oh Christ ...how did you know?'
'You shouldn't have left me to pack your old stuff...' he grinned '...I found your diaries. Hot stuff sweetheart!! All these years and you never said what youd been missing"
She was in tears. "You sod, you shouldn't have looked. I'm so ashamed" she wept and tried to dismount but he held her firmly.
"Oh no."' he grinned "not after I bought you a horse just like the one in your convent school"
She was dumbstruck. "You bought this for me?"
"Of course" he said " I want to play too! Now is this how Sister had you straddled? No don't think so. If I remember' and his hands wrenched at her panties ".I think she took your knickers down and made you stick your bare arse right up. That's it! Lets see your pussy and arsehole ..just like Sister used to!"
Breathless with excitement, Alison raised her bare bottom, her thighs so straddled that she knew it was all on show.
"Perfect, my love. Now I havent got a tawse but I reckon a doubled over suitcase strap will do fine!' he smiled as she whimpered in disbelief. .. 'Happy anniversary sweeheart and dont ever hide things from me again!' he whispered in her ear before raising the strap and whipping it hard across the proffered bottom, Alison's answering squeal and the glistening moisture around her cunt convincing him that a glorious new phase in their marriage had just begun.
The End
© Copyright Summer, 2001
Reviews
John Benson <johnb(at)ssec(dot)wisc(dot)edu>
How lovely.
The furtiveness of remembered naughtiness. The shame/excitement of old secrets. A lover who really cares enough to work it all out, and play with it to their mutual advantage. What a lucky, lucky, badgirl.
Pablo <Pablo(dot)Stubbs(at)newsguy(dot)com>
Structurally this is great: it's intriguing from the start, and keeps on getting more so, bringing in a powerful object as the key to a mysterious backstory, then ending with a life having been transformed. And it doesn't make the mistake of trying to explain too much - just lets the images work by themselves. Skilfully done.