You open the door to me and I cross the threshold. You close the door and we embrace; you have already changed and in your heels, you are almost as tall as me. We smile at each other and my hands drift down to your lovely bottom.

Still smiling, you shake your head. “Remember what I said last time? What goes around comes around.”

I nod. “I do,” I remember you saying that you are a switch and if I wanted to warm your beautiful bottom, I would have to submit to having my own thoroughly chastised, a price I was willing to pay then, and still am. You enjoyed your spanking and assured me I would enjoy mine just as much.

“Good! Shoes off and go upstairs!”

I do so and enter the playroom. There is an open bottle of wine and two glasses on the table but my attention is taken by your collection of implements and the spanking bench in the middle of the floor.

You follow my gaze and smile again. “You’ll be on that later, held helpless for me to have my way with you!”

You pour wine for us both. We sit on the sofa and chat. Your free hand rests on my thigh and moves slowly to my crotch. I have the beginning of arousal as your hand moves between my legs.

You rub gently. “I do believe something is growing here!” You massage me a little more, then you slap my thigh. “Time for your spanking! Trousers off and over my lap!”

I obey. You smooth out my underpants and begin slapping my bottom. I enjoy the impacts and with a turn of my head, I can see our reflection in the carefully placed mirror; I feel a peculiar thrill at witnessing my own spanking. You build up the intensity of the spanks, concluding with a dozen very vigorous slaps. My bottom is tingling and I sigh with pleasure as you massage my chastised cheeks.

“I think your bottom is far too well protected; these need to come down!” With that, you begin peeling down my underpants. I obligingly raise my hips, allowing you to bare my bottom. You stroke my now naked cheeks and I sigh with pleasure. Your left arm encircles my waist and you recommence spanking me; I am immediately aware of the sharper sound your palm makes on my bared bottom and the more intense feel of the spanks. Again, you build up intensity and tempo, concluding with a dozen hard, stinging slaps. My bottom is beginning to redden. You stroke and massage and caress my bottom before repeating the spanking. You do so a second, a third and a fourth time. My bottom is now bright red and you must surely be aware of my arousal as my erection presses against your thigh.

You release me, I kiss you as I stand, then take your right hand and kiss the reddened palm. Your left hand squeezes and massages my erection and I lean forward again.

You push me away. “Not yet. Stand up and put your hands on your head. We can’t have you touching yourself.”

I obey and watch as you select a two tongued tawse. You walk slowly towards me. You stroke my prick with the leather implement.

“You seem to be enjoying having your bottom smacked. If I need to punish you, I’ll need to chastise another part of your anatomy.” You continue to stroke my prick with the tawse. “Here perhaps?” But then you shake your head. “But what goes around comes around. If I did that, you might whip my poor pussy another time and I wouldn’t like that. Hold your hands out.”

I know what is coming and hold out my hands in the approved Scottish style, palms uppermost and the right supported by the left.

You strike my palm with the tawse. Instantly my palm reddens with stinging pain.

“Swap” you order.

I do so and my left palm is struck.

“Swap!”

My already stinging right palm receives a second stroke.

“Swap!”

As does my left.

“Swap!”

This continues until both palms are blazing from six strokes of the tawse.

“Shirt off and go on the bench!”

I do as I am bidden and you fasten the buckled straps. First is the largest around my waist, then my thighs are secured, then my ankles. Finally, my wrists are secured. I must admit I love the feel of leather on my bare skin, holding me in place. You smile and kiss me. You stand and stroke my back, then reach underneath, fingering and squeezing my nipples. I squirm in pleasure. You remove your hands and return to caressing my bottom.

“For a man of sixty, your bottom and legs are in very good shape. More like a thirty-year-old.”

I blush. “Thank you!”

You walk back into my field of vision, holding the tawse, show it to me, then trail it down my back.

THWACK!

I feel the band of pleasurable pain as the tawse strikes my bottom.

THWACK!

I sigh with enjoyment.

You strike my bottom ten more times. I squirm in pleasure at each stroke. Then your cool hands stroke and caress my hot bum cheeks. You reach between my legs, fondle my balls and massage my erection. The pleasure mounts, but you stop well before climax.

You stroke my bottom with the tawse before giving me another twelve strokes. Again, you reach between my legs to pleasure me; again, you stop before I can climax.

Then you show me a cane.

You walk out of my field of vision. I feel the cane tap my sit spots.

Swish-crack!

To my disappointment, I barely feel the stroke, nor do the five subsequent strokes make much of an impression.

“I can take harder; I barely felt that!” I say.

“I can do much more and harder. Are you sure you want that?”

“Yes, please.”

SWISH-CRACK!

I feel the line of burning pleasure pain. I embrace it with joy as I do the eleven subsequent strokes. The pleasure and warmth surge from my bottom through the rest of my body. Again, I feel your hand on my erection.

You stroke my prick from base to glans. “Wow! You are rock hard!”

You continue stroking and squeezing and massaging and this time you do not stop until I am repeatedly spurting as primal pleasure surges through me.