Synopsis

Samuel, a late teenager, suffers after being caught spying on an elderly woman but serving her afterwards has its compensations.

 

Voyeur

by obohobo

 

Warnings

Please take note!

The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only.

MF Spanking

If you are underage or offended by such material, or if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental. The ideas and thoughts that follow are pure fantasies. In real life, at the very least they would be unpleasant and probably illegal. Fantasies are like that; daydreams where we can contemplate and imagine the sensations without suffering or inflicting the pain, despair or humiliation.

© obohobo 2010

 

 

 

Caught

 

“WHAAAT!” I raised my hand and covered my eyes against the bright light.

 

“Stay where you are Samuel Etherington,” the woman’s voice commanded when I started to rise from my kneeling position, “I know who you are, where you live and where you work so there’s no point in trying to run and my friend over the road, is watching from her bedroom window and will phone the police if you try to molest me.”

 

I knew then that I was in serious trouble and the woman I’d watched preparing for bed for several nights in a row, had not only caught me in the act, but had the power to send me to prison. “Stay where you are, Samuel, I’ve only to flash this light in a certain way and Dora will have the police here in no time,” she warned when I tried to get up from my crouching position behind a shrub and started to mumble an apology. The torch wavered slightly and seconds later, a flash illuminated me, followed shortly by another. Knowing that she’d taken photographs, frightened me further and my thoughts went to what use she might make of them and my apprehension increased when she said, “They came out rather well and I’ve sent them to Dora so there’s no point in you trying to destroy my mobile phone.”

 

“No Ma’am, I’m sorry,” I muttered, the words hardly coming out coherently.

 

“Samuel, I’m sure you don’t want police involvement and I don’t really want the hassle of filing a report and attending court, so I’m going to offer you an alternative. If you’d like to hear it, you’ll have to promise to be on your best behaviour and come into the house. It’s cold out here and I’m not dressed for being outside.” Of course, I jumped at the chance. “Put your hands behind your back so I can tie your wrists together; I need to ensure you keep your word and don’t attack me and came prepared with a short piece of cord. Put your hands together behind your back if you intend to cooperate.”

 

With no viable alternative I did as she ordered and followed her into a room she called her study. “Well it’s obvious what you were doing,” she looked me over and even in the subdued light, I knew she would see my blushes. “With binoculars around your neck and your penis hanging out, you must have been getting some sexual excitement from seeing an old woman like me and because of the height of the upstairs window sill, you will only have seen my sagging breasts. Kneel!” She pointed to a spot on the carpet, “Let’s look at the evidence.”

 

A nudge of the mouse and her computer screen came to life and a minute or two later, full screen images of the two pictures from her mobile phone appeared. She reduced them in size so they sat side by side. During this time I was able to study the tall, buxom woman who until then I’d only seen glimpses of when she paused in front of partially drawn curtains in her bedroom. I guessed her age at around fifty but later found I needed to add six years to that estimate; she’d had her greying hair tinted to a natural looking blonde and made her look younger. At the time she wore a dark, plaid dressing gown, which, I rightly guessed, she thrown on after giving me a tantalising glimpse of her body at the window. No wonder she said, “I’m not dressed for being outside.” Late evenings are very chilly in early December.

 

“Take a good look at yourself, pervert. You came prepared with binoculars and you masturbated as you watched. Your penis is still erect in the pictures. How many times have you been in my garden and spied on me?” I hung my head in shame without answering. “Quite a few I expect. Dora saw you on the footpath last week when she walked the dog and was surprised you had disappeared from sight when she got to the streetlights again. Next morning she checked the path in daylight and saw the hole in the hedge and the trampled plants. Thinking you might be a burglar, she told me and we decided to try and find out who you were like a pair of Miss Marples’ from Agatha Christie, but actually, I’m Ms. Helen Jacobs but you can continue address me as Ma’am for the time being. With the two of us playing detectives, it didn’t take long before we saw you go into Hallum’s the printers and find out your name, and a few discrete enquiries turned up your address.” I wondered where all this was leading but kept quiet. “I belong to a badger watch group and because they are nocturnal animals, I bought a pair of night vision glasses so I could see them in their natural environment. They came in useful because, from the attic window, I saw you with your binoculars looking at my bedroom and with Dora’s help, hatched a plan to catch you. And here you are. Caught. How old are you?”

 

“Nineteen, Ma’am.”

 

“And Hallum’s is your first job?”

 

“Yes, Ma’am, apart from a paper round.”

 

“You realise that I could just speak to John Hallum, your employer and you’d be looking for work again? That would be one way of punishing you without going to the police.”

 

“Yes, Ma’am but please don’t, it took months of trying before I got a job. I won’t do it again, Ma’am.”

 

“I’m sure you won’t Samuel, but you need to be punished and if I refrain from informing your employer, then your punishment has to take another form.” A smile spread across her face and I felt like a mouse being toyed by a cat. “Losing your job would be a pretty severe punishment so any other punishment should be commensurate with it?” I had a feeling the mousetrap was set. “If you came back many times, you must have liked what you saw of me in the window, did you masturbate to visions of having sex with me when you got home?” My eyes stared at the floor. “Answer me!”

 

Not able to get the words out, I nodded, yes.

 

“That’s what I expected. Now I’ll tell you my little secret. I’ve often dreamed of having a toy-boy, a boy who would pamper me, a boy I could use for my sexual satisfaction on demand, not just with his penis but with his tongue and hands too, a boy who would obey my orders and take any spankings I cared to give him for failures. Do you think you could fill that role?” My prick hardened and with my wrists still tied, I could do nothing to hide it. “Yes,” she said, looking straight at it, “I can see the idea appeals to you.”

 

The trap sprung. “First though, there is the question of your punishment for your voyeurism. I propose to give your bare bottom a goodly dose of the strap and be assured, it will be painful. You don’t have to agree and I will free you now and visit John Hallum in the morning, but if you agree, you will have to return here after work on Friday and be prepared to stay the weekend. I’ll punish you on Friday evening so you’ll have two full days to recover and be my toy-boy. What is your decision?”

 

I didn’t have any real choice. Mr. Hallum could easily replace me and I’d certainly not get another apprenticeship in the near future and I’d have to suffer further government training schemes and go back to living with my parents. “I’ll take your punishment,” I whispered.

 

“Just so you have no illusions as to what will happen on Friday, I’ll give you a small sample now and a chance to change your mind afterwards. Have a good look at the computer screen so you know why you are in this trouble.” She touched the mouse and the screen saver disappeared, replaced by the two images of me. My body shook slightly as I waited for her return and inwardly I debated whether or not I could renege on coming back for the weekend but I knew my job had priority over my arse and I wondered if she’d really allow me to fuck her. It sounded as if she would and I’d get to lose my virginity, not to some beauty queen of my imagination but to a lady old enough to be my grandmother. I didn’t see that as a problem.

 

“Stand up and move behind the sofa.” When I stood in the position she wanted, her hands unzipped my flies and yanked my trousers and pants down and off my feet. “Bend over! I’ll only give you two for now but you’ll get many more when you come on Friday. Spread your legs!” I didn’t hesitate; I’d an aunt like her who gave direct orders that I obeyed instantly. That she could see my balls was of less concern than the 2-inch wide strap she swished in front of my face and then laid smartly across my bum. Yes, I’m a wimp and I yelled at the first stroke and again at the second.

 

“Go and kneel where you were before!” She sat in an easy chair in front of me. “Come closer.” I shuffled forward on my knees, conscious that every movement caused a sharp reminder of the strap on my arse. “Closer!” After repeated commands, I knelt with my shoulders between her knees and, in one quick movement, she lifted the hem of her robe and dropped it over my head. In the very dim light that percolated into the space I saw her hairy mound inches from my nose. A push on the back of my head and my lips touched her cunt. “Use your tongue, toy-boy, bring me off.” It seemed to take forever before I satisfied her and she released me.

 

“Stand in front of me!” Naked from the waist down and with a hard erection, I hoped she would give me some satisfaction too, but it was not to be. “You can play with this when you get home,” she gave my prick a light slap, “But from Thursday evening you are not to touch it. Understand?”

 

“Yes, Ma’am.”

 

“Now give my breasts, perhaps I should use more vulgar terms now you are my toy-boy, give my tits a kiss and then I’ll untie you and you can go home.” For the first time I had a close look at her large and somewhat sagging tits with their large brown areolas and prominent nipples. I did indeed kiss and suck them but she quickly curtailed my access.

 

“Don’t be late on Friday. Go home straight from work and bring the toiletries you’ll need and a change of clothes, loose ones like sweat pants that will fit over a sore bum, in case I have visitors but no pyjamas. Pack your bag before you go to work and just grab it and come here without changing.” I walked home wondering what would happen at the weekend, how much pain I would suffer – the two strokes I had were still sore and I could feel them at each step – and what sex I would be allowed. Would she let me fuck her? That question plagued me for the following three days and caused me sleepless nights.

 

Punished

 

My heart thumped with anxiety as I hurried back along the footpath to her house, later than I expected because we’d had to stay on at work to get an order out before the weekend. “Will she increase my flogging?” I wondered and for the thousandth time since Tuesday, I wondered just how bad it would be and whether or not I’d be fit enough to go to work on Monday.

 

“I’m sorry that I’m late Ms. Jacobs, they kept us late at work but I came as quick as I could,” I spluttered an apology when she answered my knock on the door.

 

“I know you did, we saw you running on the way home.” I guessed ‘we’ referred to Dora, her accomplice. She led me upstairs and into her bedroom, a larger room than I expected, complete with a four-poster double bed. “Put your clothes in that drawer,” she indicated the bottom one of a tallboy, “And your toiletries in the bathroom. Your duffle bag can go on top of the wardrobe. Get them put away while I give the casserole a stir and we’ll eat in about an hour.” Like on my previous visit, she gave brisk orders and knowing she expected immediate compliance, I obeyed.

 

“No mention of my punishment as yet but I doubt she’s forgotten it,” I mused as I hastily put my things away. Her first words when she returned dispelled that notion. “Stand there and take all your clothes off, I want to see you naked.” Looking around, I quickly realised that the place she indicated put me in front of the window with its partially drawn curtains; the window I’d watched so often for the last two weeks. Smiling at my embarrassment, she said, “It’s alright toy-boy, only peeping toms who come through the hedge and enter my garden, can see that window, as you well know.”

 

Actually, my having to undress while she watched caused me more embarrassment than the window but I kept quiet and, when ordered, turned to face her. Ms. Helen Jacobs stood upright and erect, again reminding me of my old aunt, stern but with a kindly streak and for a few minutes I suffered her staring at my body. She’d seen my prick clearly enough on my previous visit, and if my imaginings over the last few days were anything to go by, she’d handle it and feel it inside her. It began to rise when I stood in front of her and while she looked at me, I took in her statuesque form too. Her low cut, black dress revealed an ample area of tit and a deep cleavage that pushed her bosom well forward but with her being much taller than me, I couldn’t see between those twin globes. I guessed the dress must have a built in breast support because I couldn’t see any sign of a bra. The hem fell well below her knees so I couldn’t see her thighs and my thoughts wondering if she wore knickers, caused my prick to harden further. Unlike the books and stories I’ve read of dominant women, she didn’t wear high-heeled shoes, but a more comfortable pair of black slippers.

 

“You’re not that bad looking,” she commented, “A bit skinny and feeble but your prick’s a normal size and I didn’t really want a hunk for a toy-boy. You’ll do fine with a bit of training.” I wasn’t certain if I should take that for a compliment or another humiliation.

 

“Bathroom Samuel, I have no wish to for you to wet my carpet halfway through your punishment. Sit on the seat and push your pecker well down before it gets too hard.” To further my embarrassment, she stood in the doorway and watched.

 

“Downstairs into the study with you Samuel, you know what to expect so we’ll get it over with and then we can eat.” Put like that made it seem that she intended to take care of a simple chore; it didn’t seem like that to me!

 

To my shock, centrally placed in the study with other furniture moved aside, stood a heavy wooden stool with a padded seat and straps loosely fastened around the base of the four legs. I knew its intended use. A large plastic sheet covered the carpet under it; obviously she’d taken further precautions against my losing control of my bladder. Seeing my surprise, Helen explained, “I bought two of them when the landlord of ‘The Feathers’ modernised the interior and did away with the wooden stools and tables and replaced them with chrome and Formica stuff. Normally they are in the utility room but I thought one would serve today’s purpose admirably. The straps I bought in town on Thursday and tied them on so I could hold you in place and you wouldn’t be able to stand up or move out of position.” My ordeal began to seem more terrifying than I first thought and I started to protest. “You know the alternative, Samuel.” I shut up.

 

Kneeling, she fastened my ankles to the stool and with her face at the height of my bum, I knew she had a close view of my prick and balls and I wondered if this stimulated her sexually but I had no indication that it did.

 

“How... many... Ma’am?” I stuttered when she bent me over the stool to secure my wrists.

 

“As many as I think are needed. I watched my mother use grandpa’s razor strop on my older brothers and I know they tried to fake extreme pain, but so did she and she ignored all such pleas. I will do the same with you and remember, this is a punishment for your behaviour and not a prelude to sex. You will not enjoy it, even if I do. Does that surprise you? Maybe it is the feeling of power and control that I have over you, that stimulates me. With my brothers, it was also the yells the strap produced but with neighbours and dog walkers using the path, I shall silence you.” She produced a headscarf from a chair, rolled it into a rope and forced it into my mouth and tied it around my head. Shaking with fear, I dreaded the thrashing she would give me, a thrashing that I had to endure because of my helpless position. Her comment, “Don’t worry, Toy-boy, you’ll survive and I’ll comfort you afterwards,” did little to reassure me.

 

I screamed into the gag, I cried, I shook and trembled as she pasted my arse with her belt. Whack followed whack in quick succession and I began to wonder if it would ever end and cursed myself for getting into the situation and wondered if the job was really worth the pain. Many of the stories I’d read suggested the victim passed out but I stayed fully awake and each blow felt worse than the one before as the intensity of the fire in my arse increased. Finally she put the belt down, rubbed my bum cheeks with her hands and said, “I gave you three dozen, that should be sufficient to remind you of the penalties for voyeurism. You can stay in that position for a while and contemplate the reasons for your punishment while I attend to the dinner. I’ll be back shortly to release you and do what I can to ease your pain but I’m sure you will still feel the effects when you go to work next week.” My tears dripped noisily on to the plastic sheet while I awaited her return.

 

Soothed

 

The minutes ticked slowly by. “Is she going to leave me here and punish me again later?” I thought but didn’t believe that to be the case, I certainly regretted spying on her, or at least getting caught. And for what? A few brief views of her tits on three occasions? Definitely not worth the thrashing I’d received. Would she really let me fuck her later? My mind whirled with the possibilities but fear of the unknown dominated. I looked forward to her return with a mixture of dread and longing for release and love.

 

“That’s dinner taken care of, now I can take care of you,” she breezed back into the room and lightly ran her hand over my arse before removing the gag and asking, “Will you be a good boy when I release you or have I to keep your hands tied like the other day?” I promised to be good and when I tentatively stood and very carefully felt my bum, she handed me a couple of Ibuprophen tablets and a glass of water which I swallowed, hoping for immediate relief but knowing they took a while to act. Moments later she enveloped me in a hug, my face pressed into the valley between her breasts and I knew then her promises to take care of me were true. Quietly she whispered, “Your punishment is over, Samuel, and I’ll now help you to recover. The pills will take a few minutes to kick in and while they do, I’m taking you to the shower and let the water run over your bottom to take some of the fire away, and then I’ll apply some cream I bought to help soothe the pain. Upstairs with you.”

 

Without her support I doubt if I would have made it; each step sent bolts of pain through my body but clasping the banister I made it to the bathroom. Her next order took me completely by surprise. “Unzip my dress, please, Samuel.” It ran the whole length of the back and when undone she shrugged out of it and turned to face me, naked except for her slippers. My eyes opened very wide and took in the expanse of woman flesh for the first time; her large slightly sagging tits, somewhat protruding belly and her mound with its bush of mousy hair rather darker than that on her head. I could barely make out her slit but before I had a closer look she clasped me again and this time I felt my naked skin again hers. My prick started to rise and she must have felt it because after several minutes she gently pushed me away saying, “Time enough for that later, let’s get into the shower and ease the pain in your sore bum. Remember Samuel, while we are alone this weekend, you can look and touch me anywhere.” I noticed she always called me Samuel, never Sam like everyone else, and wondered if that was part of her dominating scheme but after a while it became the natural thing for me to be addressed in that manner.

 

Her hands gently soaped and washed my body and I gradually took more and more liberties with her breasts and even dared to finger her cunt. All too soon, the hot water gave out and we dried each other and by then the pain in my arse had subsided a little although it still hurt especially when I moved, but now my attention focussed more on her tits. The way they flopped around and were malleable in my hands, fascinated me. My fierce erection caught her attention. “I’d better deal with this before it explodes,” she smiled and, sitting on the toilet, she pulled me to her and took my prick into her mouth. “Mmmmm,” she murmured, “It’s been too many years since I tasted a nice hard prick especially a nice young one. Don’t hold back, Samuel, spurt it into me, it will be my entrée before dinner.” The feel of her warm mouth surrounding my prick, produced sensations far greater than I felt when using my hand, and with all the prior stimulation it wasn’t long before she got her wish. Although I’d seen it on the porn I viewed on the Internet, when my prick pulsed and spurted, I still couldn’t believe this elderly woman would swallow the sperm, but she did.

 

“Service me like you did the other day but this time you can see what you’re doing and it won’t be long before I climax too.” I couldn’t refuse although the stretching of the skin on my bum caused further pain when I knelt between her wide-open thighs and saw the lips of her wet cunt held open by her fingers. I tongued the opening and sucked her clit until she gripped the back of my head and came noisily. I decided sex was the best painkiller, at least it took my mind away from my sore bum.

 

Dinner proved a strange if somewhat amusing affair. Helen, I called her that in my mind although I always addressed her as ‘Ma’am’, wore an apron to serve the dishes but we both sat opposite each other, totally naked and it amused me (and her) that her tits kept getting in the way. Despite the painkillers, the shower and the cream she applied, my arse hurt even though I sat on extra cushions and I longed to finish the meal and cuddle her again but she made me wait and help with the washing up. She wore her apron to wash the dishes and I, still naked, dried them when, to our embarrassment, we heard the back door open and “Oooo-eee, Helen, are you okay.” Dora walked in on us. “Oh, sorry, I can see you are and you’ve really pasted his bum. I bet you’ll think twice before spying on a lady again, boy?”

 

I think she deliberately directed the last question to force me to turn towards her to answer so she could see my semi-erect prick. “Yes, Ma’am,” I answered almost automatically. I took an instant dislike to her and wondered how two unlike women could be friends. Helen, the big-boned matron with a strict but kindly disposition, and Dora, a skinny, sharp faced woman with short, dark hair and a smile I took to be an evil leer when she gazed directly at my genitals.

 

“I can understand why he is starkers, Helen, but I would have expected you fully dressed or are you preparing...”

 

“Thank you for checking on me, Dora, as you can see I am perfectly alright and am in control of the situation,” Helen cut Dora off in mid sentence, “I can manage on my own now, thank you. I’ll see you probably on Monday and we can talk then.” Unceremoniously, she guided Dora to the door and a fragment of conversation drifted back to me “... you just want to get into bed with him.”

 

“Sorry about Dora,” Helen apologised, “She’s a helpful woman in many ways but she likes to put her nose into everyone’s affairs. We have keys to each other’s houses in case of emergencies but even so, I didn’t expect her to use it tonight because she knew you were coming. Now let’s finish these dishes and then go upstairs so I can play with my toy-boy.”

 

Ten minutes later, my buttocks aching from standing, Helen grabbed my prick and laughingly pulled me up the stairs.

 

First fuck

 

In many ways losing my virginity was an anticlimax. We cuddled and fondled each other before I knelt between her massive thighs and entered my prick for the first time in a woman’s cunt, but with the prior stimulation and being naked for so long, I only fucked her for a couple of minutes before shooting my load. “Never mind,” she soothed, “You young lads soon recharge and next time it will be better and take longer.” Sure enough, within an hour my prick stood hard and firm again and this time we fucked for very much longer and Helen climaxed before I once again sent my sperm into her now infertile womb.

 

To my surprise she sent me head down under the duvet and we ended up in the sixty-nining position with me tonguing her spermy slit and she sucking my sticky prick. I can’t say I enjoyed having my head trapped between the darkness of her thighs but the feel of her warm mouth around my prick more than compensated for it. Before long I returned to the normal position in the bed and we lay close and I suckled her breasts. Unfortunately, large as they were, they supplied no milk.

 

“Have you spied on any other women, Samuel?” she asked suddenly after we’d rested a while, “I shan’t spank you again if you have and I’m now glad you spied on me.”

 

Shyly and hesitantly I admitted that I tried to see my mum and dad but had been successful only once and that for only a very short time. “It was pure chance that I saw you for the first time. Late one evening I’d gone to the supermarket and on the way back, stopped for a beer at ‘The Feathers’. I should have used the toilet in the pub but I didn’t and by the time I came to the footpath, my need to pee became desperate. Seeing the hole in the hedge I slipped inside and when I turned my back to the hedge I saw you at the window so I crouched down and waited and watched. Thinking it might be a regular thing, I came the next night and brought my old pair of binoculars. You’re a woman of regular habit so I came each night and several times you rewarded me with a sight of your breasts. I guess Dora saw me.”

 

“Well you’ve paid the price for that and I hope you will continue to see me without the need to spy.”

 

After we’d returned to the kitchen for a nightcap, and she’d given me more painkillers and applied another layer of cream to combat the returning pain in my arse, we fucked (or more correctly now, we made love) for the third time in four hours. Afterwards, ensconced within her arms and my mouth close to or on her nipples, I slept well.

 

Not having a man for so long, Helen, regaining the enthusiasm of her youth, tried to make up for lost time and we fucked again early Saturday morning and frequently over the weekend. I eagerly complied with her demands and enjoyed our coupling and managed most times to give her at least one climax each time and if I didn’t she ordered me, as her toy-boy to service her orally and as we did it in the sixty-nine position, I had my penis sucked or licked too.

 

In the shower when she’d sucked my prick again for a short while, I mentioned my surprise at her doing sucking me so often. “When as a teenager I met my future husband, we didn’t have birth control pills and had to use condoms or French letters as we called them. He didn’t want to be seen buying them and neither did I so I sucked him and made him suck me as well. He wasn’t so keen on that but knew he had to otherwise he wouldn’t get me at all. I found I liked the control I had over him and didn’t mind, in fact liked, the taste when he came in my mouth. You don’t mind licking me, do you?”

 

“No, I like it too.”

 

“Then you’ll make a good toy-boy for me. Would you like having an old woman to fuck and suck at weekends?”

 

I wondered how that would work out because it surely wouldn’t be long before others found out especially with Dora knowing and spreading the information and enlarging on the truth when she gossiped to her friends, but I truthfully answered, “Yes.”

 

In her dominant way, Helen bull-headed my concerns by taking me to the market in the town square on Saturday morning when she knew many of her friends would be shopping, and introduced me as, ‘Samuel, my new lover boy’. This produced giggles or odd looks but brought our relationship into the open and at work on Monday, the others ribbed me about it but, as usual, I shrunk back into my shell and barely answered. I’d enjoyed myself and have been invited back for the weekend. At the moment, this is the pattern; Sunday night to Friday morning, I live in my flat, Friday after work until Sunday evening, I’m her toy-boy. “You’ll need a few days to recover between visits,” she laughed when she explained the arrangement.

 

She’s probably right. Despite what I suffered, boy, am I glad I wanted a pee on the way home from the pub that evening.

 

Finis