Helping Her (M/F story)

Sometimes, it's possible to go back and pinpoint the moment, the exact moment, when an important part of your life began. Other times, it's a gradual process. This was the former.

 

I can't tell you when the first time I talked to Mary was, of course. She was the older sister of David, one of my best friends. Mary and David were quite good friends, in spite of being siblings, and the three of us played together several times growing up. She was several years older, of course, but still fun to be around.

 

But even though I'd talked to her before, and we'd played games growing up, I still consider that night the origin of what was to happen.

 

A month or two before my eighteenth birthday, I was staying the night at their house. Mary was home from, spending time preparing for her exams. David and I had played video games until he fell college asleep, at which point I picked up a book and started reading. At one point, I had to go to the bathroom, and I sneaked off, tiptoeing to avoid waking anyone. After all, everyone else was asleep. It least, that's what I thought. On my way back, however, I thought I heard crying coming from Mary's room.

 

The door was slightly ajar, so I stopped to peek in, seeing if everything was all right. I had expected to see her either crying to herself or fast asleep (I wasn't entirely sure I'd heard crying). Those two things, I was prepared for. What I was not prepared for, however, was to see her kneeling on the bed, nightshirt raised to bare her bottom, smacking herself with a small hairbrush. But that is what I saw.

I have no idea how long I stood there, unable to process what was happening before my very eyes, but I have a feeling it was a bit too long. Or maybe I made some noise, I don't know. But suddenly, Mary whipped her head around, staring wide-eyed and blushing in shame as she saw me standing there. To be honest, I was a little red-faced myself.

 

I wasn't entirely sure what to say in a situation like this, so I did the best thing my mind could conceive off. I closed the door and headed off to bed.

 

 

It was early morning, I had just been down for breakfast, and was heading back to David's room for another game of Age of Empires. Mary was standing outside her room, waiting, and when she saw me, she opened the door, waving me in. "I need to talk to you," she told me.

 

I must admit I was a little nervous as I followed her in, as I wasn't entirely sure she wouldn't start screaming at me the second the door was closed, but I she didn't. She looked at me, a little pale, and I realized that she was even more nervous than I was.

 

"You won't tell anyone, will you? About... about what you saw."

 

"Of course not!" I told her, my voice betraying that I was a little hurt. "You know I can keep secrets. Besides, who'd believe me?"

 

She smiled. "I know, you're the most trustworthy guy I know, but... " She hiccupped, and I could tell she had been crying. "I was just scared. So scared."

 

She sat down on the bed, looking like a very lost girl, and I sat down next to her. "Do you want to talk about it?"

 

She nodded.

 

For a long time, she sat there, trying to figure out what to say. "It's just... sometimes, I want to be spanked," she said at last. "I want someone to bare my bottom, put me over their knee, tell me I'm a bad girl and make me a good girl."

 

I was trying to make this fit my mental image of Mary, the tall, red-headed, independent woman sitting next to me, and I was failing catastrophically.

 

"I know, it's not logical. It's weird, and bizarre, and all that, but that's what I want. That's what I need." She was getting a little tear-eyed.

 

"And since you're too scared to ask anyone else to do it, you do it yourself," I said. She nodded. I shrugged. "Try. Try to find someone. Find some guy you trust, who you want to...  do this to you, and tell him you need a spanking," I said. She needed advice, and I gave her the best I could think of. Not much, I'll admit, but it was all I had.

 

She sat there, as if working up her nerve, for a few minutes. Then, she gave me a strange look, rose to her feet, and turned her back to me. I was a little afraid I had offended her in some way, until she pulled her shorts down, sticking her bottom out.

 

I have to admit, my brain froze up. I opened my mouth to respond to this, but I couldn't think of a single thing to say as I stared at her bare bottom. While I tried to process this, Mary pulled her shorts back up and sat down next to me.

 

"You want me to spank you?" I said at last. This wasn't some horrible misunderstanding or some complicated joke, was there?

 

"Yes," she said, blushing. "There's no one I trust more than you. You're reliable, and a gentleman." Good to know. "She looked down at the carpet. "Plus, you're cute as hell." Even better to know. "Go back to David's room, play video games and have fun. I can't... Not while they're in the house. My parents, my brother..." She took a deep breath. "But my parents are going out on Friday night, and I think my brother's going to a party as well." I nodded. He was. I had been invited. "Could you... come over here? Friday night?" She looked at me like all her hopes and dreams were in my hands, and she was scared I would smash them.

 

I nodded. "I'll be here," I said reassuringly.

 

She beamed at me, kissing me on the cheek. "See you then. They leave at six thirty, so seven sounds good?"

 

I'm pretty sure I lost most of the games I played with David that day. Other things on my mind and all that.

 

 

Friday afternoon, and I was sitting in my room, watching the clock. 4.57, I said out loud to no one in particular.

 

I trying to figure out some details about what was to happen. What to wear, for instance. What do you wear when a girl invites you over to spank her? Jeans? Corduroy? A suit? Is spanking a black tie event?

 

Was this a date? Should I bring flowers? Chocolate? I thought people on dates usually went to the movies, not over each other's knees. We weren't going over EACH OTHER'S knees, were we? I mean, I was willing to spank her and all, if that was what she really wanted, but her spanking me? She didn't want that, did she? She realized that I certainly didn't want that, didn't she?

 

What if David came home early? "I'll admit, this wasn't the BEST way to find out that your sister loves spanking and that your best friend is or isn't dating her, but … Put that bottle of bleach down, before - Ah. I'm no expert, but I don't think that's very good for your eyes."

 

Or worse: what if her PARENTS came home early? "Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson. You're probably wondering why your daughter is over my knee, with a red bottom, crying her eyes out. I can expl- actually, I don't think I can..."

 

Suddenly, I realized that Mary was probably far more nervous. She told me she'd never been spanked before. What if she hated it? What if, actually going over someone's knee, she found that it was nothing like what she'd dreamed about?

 

I took a deep breath. She needed me, and had promised her I'd be there. So I would. End of story.

 

 

"Rick! You're here!" Mary sounded extremely relieved, and ran out to give me a hug, clutching me as if she was afraid she'd fall off the face of the Earth if she didn't find something to hold on to.

 

"I told you I'd be here, didn't I?" I said, hugging her back. "Most reliable person you know, remember?" It scared me sometimes how insecure Mary could be. I mean, smart, funny, attractive like you wouldn't BELIEVE... if someone like THAT doesn't think they're good enough, what chance do the rest of us have?

 

"Come on in," she said, and we went up to her room. She went ahead of me up the stairs, and I found myself staring at a well-shaped rear end in a pair of tight jeans. Very soon, I'm going to spank that bottom, I told myself. It still didn't make a whole lot of sense.

 

We entered her room, and I think I froze a little in my tracks. She'd laid out a series of objects on her bed, forming a perfect line. There was a belt, a ping-pong paddle, a wooden spoon, a ruler, a slipper, a bath brush, and of course, the small hairbrush I'd seen her use on herself. What kind of exceptions did she have?

 

She must have seen the look on my face, because she immediately started blushing. "I wasn't sure what you wanted to use on me, or really if you wanted to use anything at all, so I got them all, I'd  seen them used on the internet, when I was looking for..." She realized that she was babbling and shut her mouth.

 

The internet. Of course. She'd been on the internet, researching and preparing for the big event. I'd been in my room, staring at the clock. And I was pretty sure I was going to have the hard part; all she had to do was cry and kick, and most of us learn that stuff pretty early. I wanted to bury my face in my hands.

 

I sat down on the bed, and she stepped forward, laying across my lap. "You should start over the jeans," she told me. "As a warm-up." I wasn't about to argue that point; she was the expert.

 

I lifted my hand, giving her bottom a few light pats. Start off slowly, I told myself. If you hurt her, she's going to crawl even further into herself, and you will have ruined a human life forever. But no pressure.

 

She didn't scream, throw herself off my lap OR call me a bastard, which was good. So far, so good. In fact, she didn't react at all. I looked over at her, and she turned to face me. "Go on, harder," she said.

 

I gave her a few more smacks, harder than before. She still seemed somewhat unsatisfied, so I gave her some harder ones. She arched her back, and I am pretty sure I heard moaning. You did good, I told myself. Keep doing that.

 

I kept on spanking her, planting firm smacks on the seat of her jeans, watching her squirming around on my lap with the biggest smile I had ever seen on her face.

 

I had no idea how long a warm-up was supposed to last, but the rough fabric of the jeans were starting to hurt my hand, so I decided it was enough.

 

"On your feet, I told her. "It's time for these jeans to come down."

 

She stood up, closing her eyes and smiling as she reached back to rub her rear end. It was clear that she was pleased with my work so far.

 

After a few seconds, she looked down, and I realized that she expected me to take her jeans down for her. Yet another example of spanking etiquette I should have looked up, but didn't. I reached forward, discovering that unbuttoning a pair of jeans that you're wearing, and unbuttoning jeans that someone ELSE is wearing, require different movements. I should write these things down.

 

Jeans safely around her ankles, I saw that she was wearing a pair of white cotton panties. I wondered briefly whether to pull them down or not, but decided against it. If she wanted me to start over her jeans, it made sense she'd want me to continue over her panties.

 

She laid down across my lap again, wriggling into a comfortable position. I continued the spanking, and quickly realized that I didn't feel as much of a sting in my hand when it fell on soft cotton, rather than on rough jeans. I also realized how much more painful it was for Mary, as she was squirming around, kicking her legs slightly as my hand landed. Still, she seemed happy. Yet another thing about this whole affair that didn't make any logical sense whatsoever.

 

"Ow!" she called out. "Please, sir, I'm learning my lesson, there's no need to pull my panties down." Now, I may not be the brightest person out there, but some hints are almost impossible to miss. This was one of them. I grabbed the waistband of her panties, pulling them down to her knees.

 

I was now staring at Mary's bare bottom, quivering slightly as she waited for the first smack. I reached down to rub her bottom, enjoying the feeling as I cupped her cheek, feeling the flesh in my hand.

 

"Oh!" She said, jumping a little. "Starting to enjoy it, Ricky?"

 

I realized that I had an erection, and that it was poking her in the stomach. "Sorry," I said.

"No, you dummy," she giggled. "I WANT you to enjoy it."

 

With her bottom bare and turned toward me, I could see how pink she was getting. I also saw that I had distributed the smacks unevenly; parts of her bottom were still pretty pale, while others were dark pink. I decided to correct this, focusing my smacks on the paler parts of her bottom.

 

Mary laid her head down, seemingly falling asleep as she enjoyed the feeling of the spanking. When I was satisfied I'd gotten her bottom evenly pink, I realized that I still hadn't used any of the implements. I rifled through them, wondering that to pick, before settling on the hairbrush. It just felt right, since it was the one I'd seen her use on herself.

 

Mary squealed as the first smack of the brush landed on her bottom, and soon, she was drumming her legs, telling me that she was going to be very, very, very good from now on. She wasn't actually telling me to stop yet, so I didn't. Soon, tears were rolling down the cheeks, and I thought about the fact that I was making her cry. I was making a girl that I liked cry, and I was going to keep doing the thing that was making her cry. It seemed so wrong, yet so right.

 

Finally, she broke down sobbing, crying into the pillow, lying limp over my lap. I realized that it was time to stop, and helped her into a sitting position, letting her cry into my shoulder. I patted her back, helping her calm down. I didn't even notice at first that she was naked from the waist down, her panties and jeans having been kicked into a corner.

 

When she had calmed down a bit, she grabbed my head and gave me a long, deep, hard kiss. "Thank you!" She said. "You have no idea how much I needed that." She stepped over to a mirror on the wall, admiring her bottom in it. "It's so red! Are you sure you've never done this before, Rick?"

 

"Was it everything you've dreamed about, then?"

 

"More! Oh, so much more," she said, sitting down on my lap again. "You know," she said, reaching her hand down to the bulge in my trousers. "That was very exciting, and we still have hours until anyone comes home..."

 

When it was all over, I found that I had enjoyed spanking Mary almost as much as she enjoyed being spanked. I also realized that, just like Mary, I'd gotten everything I'd dreamed about, and more.