It was the third time I’d tried this, and I had decided it was going to be the last. I felt pretty silly, riding the subway with an old leather slipper on my knee. But then she sat down opposite me. Slim, youngish, attractive, with a slightly upturned nose, brown hair tied back in a ponytail. I noticed this after I noticed her eyes. Green, lively, intelligent. Interested. 

I saw her checking out the slipper, then the number of legs I had. Then her gaze met mine. An eyebrow - the right one - arched up in a silent question. I gazed steadily back. Perhaps the very edge of my mouth twitched slightly. She caught it, and she smiled. I felt that good feeling you get at the start of something. A kind of tingling. Slight tensioning of certain muscles, butterflies in the stomach. That sort of thing. Hillhead. My stop. We both rose at the same time. I held back, let her go first, ever the gentleman. The view from the back was good too. She wore a long coat, pinched in to show a trim waist, flaring out to suggest rounded hips. Leather boots. 

At the escalator she knew I was right behind her. She turned. Her eyes green were level with mine. I could drown in those eyes, given a chance.

‘So. Is it for a one-legged uncle?’ Her smile was warm.

‘I don’t have any uncles. And I don’t know anyone with just one leg.’

‘Hmm. Interesting.’ The elevator disgorged us at ground level. When we emerged on to Byres Road we were walking side by side. ‘Which way are you going?’ 

I pointed across the road. ‘Atholl Gardens.’

Another smile. ‘Then I’m going your way.’ We waited at the lights, side by side, as if we were a couple. It felt good. And exciting. We were perfectly in step as we crossed and walked up Saltoun Street. Half way along she stopped. 

‘This is me. Want to come in? I can offer you coffee. Or tea. Or something stronger, if you’re good.’ 

‘If I’m good? Good at what?’

She opened a gate in the metal railing, stepped on to the top of flight of stone steps leading down to the basement flat. Or garden flat as the estate agents put it. ‘That we will see,’ she said. ‘Coming?’ She started down the stairs without waiting for a reply.

The door was solid, red with a dull brass knocker. A turn of the key and we were in a short, wide hall, with four doors off it. The nearest, on the left, was open. Hanging up her coat to display a neat top, dark knee length skirt, rounded hips, she went in. 

‘Have a seat. I’m making a coffee. Would you like one?’

‘That would be great. Milk, no sugar. Thanks.’

She went out into the hall and then, I presume, into the kitchen. I heard the sound of a kettle being filled. I looked round the room, chose the end of the low leather couch, sat back, relaxed as much as I could. I could feel my heartbeat. In fact I’d be surprised if she couldn’t hear it above the noise of the kettle boiling. She popped her head round the door. 

‘I’m Laura by the way.’ 

A  minute later a tray with two mugs and a plate of biscuits appeared. 

‘Don’t get up. Oh, you weren’t going to.’ Again, with a smile. I’d have to be on my toes, I could tell. 

I took a mug of brown liquid. ‘I’m Steve,’ I said. ‘Nice to meet you, Laura. Are you in the habit of inviting strange men into your flat?’

‘Oh, I don’t think you’re that strange. Intriguing perhaps. Biscuit?’

I took a digestive. ‘But I could be an axe murderer.’

‘You’re not a murderer. And that isn’t an axe. Can I have a look?’

I handed her the slipper. She hefted it in her hand, flexed it. ‘It’s pretty heavy. And big. What size do you think it is?’

‘At least a 12. I’ve no idea how old it is. I found it at Paddy’s Market. Woman selling it asked the same question as you, is it for a one-legged uncle. I told her what I told you and she told me she’d used it for the past 15 years, to give her kids what she called a skelpit leatherin.’

Laura smiled. ‘I haven’t heard that term in a while. My mum used to say it. I know what it means though.’ Then she held the slipper behind her, across the rounded back of her skirt. ‘I bet it packs quite a punch.’ She drew it back quickly and whacked it across her backside. The sound was loud in the room. We both jumped, and Laura rubbed her bottom with her left hand. ‘Wow,’ she said, handing it back to me. ‘It does.’ She sat demurely at the other end of the couch. ‘Now tell me why you were carrying it on the underground the way you were. As in, not in a bag, like normal people.’

So I told her about my idea, about using it like an advertisement. She laughed.

‘That’s never going to work. Oh wait, it did.’ Her eyes gazed at me over the top of her cup. ‘In fact it’s a totally genius idea.’ The silence in the room lengthened. Laura’s eyes glowed with an unnatural light. She sat forward on the cushion, back very straight. The way she sat enhanced her breasts, which were, like other parts of her anatomy, pert. She parted her lips, the tip of her tongue darted out, and she smiled, then raised her cup to her mouth, drained it. ‘Can you hold the slipper up?’ I did as I was asked. ‘And whack the cushion?’ The sound of the slipper on the leather arm of the couch was loud. Very loud. Laura let out the merest sound, like a whimper, then she cleared her throat. She even squirmed a little, moving her hips on the seat. 

‘Can you..would you..’ She swallowed hard. Looked up, straight into my eyes. ‘I was all set to be cool, calm and collected. A bit aloof, at least for now. But fuck that.’ She stood up. ‘Finished your coffee? Because I have a burning need to get to know your slipper better.’ She pulled a hidden zip and her skirt fell away. She kicked it to the corner of the room, and strode to the window. ‘Better close the curtains.’ The vision that was presented to me -  a full, rounded bottom partly covered in a sheer white material, shapely legs with stockings, held up by a suspender belt - made me draw in a breath, which I only let out when I realised I had stopped breathing. Curtains drawn, she started taking off her top. ‘Am I the only one undressing here?’

I shucked off my shoes, pulled my shirt off, unbuckled my belt. Laura raised a finger - wait - and knelt down in front of me. Slowly, carefully, she pulled my jeans off. She smiled at the bulge in my boxers, closed a hand around my erection. ‘Keep that hard for me, I’ll be wanting it soon. A good spanking makes me incredibly horny.’ She put a hand on each of my legs, leaned in and kissed me on the mouth. A long, sensuous, greedy kiss. My boxers were straining more than ever. 

She turned, stood alongside my legs, lowered herself across my lap. A vision appeared before me. White silk stretched across smooth, rounded globes. I ran my hand across the alabaster perfection. Laura’s head turned towards me. ‘Don’t take all day. And don’t hold back. I’ll tell you when to stop.’

I had left the ordinary, everyday world. Laura’s firm, lithe body lay across my lap, her legs stretched and tensed, her weight on my legs. My erection was already pressing into her hip. I was in heaven, ‘Jesus, Laura. Where have you been all my life?’ 

‘Depends what number Atholl Gardens you live at. Anything between 200 and 500 metres. Now get on with it, or you’ll never know.’ 

I rested the heavy slipper across these perfect globes. I felt Laura’s body shudder on my lap. I raised the slipper, brought it down hard, full across her backside. The noise was like a pistol shot. Laura’s head jerked back, and she gripped my left leg hard. 

‘Aah. Jesus.’

‘Too hard?’ I asked.

‘N - no,’ taking in a breath. ‘Fantastic. Just right.’ She twisted to look up at me, over her shoulder. ‘In fact, I could take it a bit harder. Do your worst.’ She bent forward again. I gazed on her perfect backside, a slight reddening around the lower edge of the silk that stretched across the perfection. Took a breath. Raised the leather slipper.

The smooth leather met that pert, rounded backside again and again, without respite. It covered both globes, making Laura buck and twist under the assault. The noise of leather on silk and skin was intoxicating, loud in the room. After about 12 hard, fast strokes I stopped. Laura panted for breath, her body hanging across my lap. My erection dug into her left hip. 

‘You ok?’ I asked.

It took a minute, but she managed to speak. ‘More than ok. But I didn’t tell you to stop. Lay it on. More. Much more.’

‘Well, if that’s what you want, let’s get rid of these.’ And I hooked a finger in the waistband of the knickers, pulled them away from her bottom. They were wet at the crotch. Laura lifted her hips slightly to help the process. 

I laid the cool leather across the reddened skin. Raised the slipper. 

Crack! I changed the trajectory slightly, flattening the arc, allowing for an upturn at the end, giving an extra kick, and extra burn. The results were impressive. Laura bucked on my lap, nails digging into my leg, and she started to call out her pain. Cries of pain at first, but as the leather flashed across her backside again and again it morphed into a strangled moan, until she was moving, and moaning, in an entirely different way.

‘Oh Oh Aah aah oooh I think.. Aah.. I think,,,oooh. I would like oh oh oooh a fuck now..aaah thank you.  Aaaah!’ She struggled to her feet, reached down and clasped my erection. I stood and she slid my boxers down. Both hands on my manhood, she breathed in. ‘Need that, in me, now,’ she said

It would have been rude to refuse, so I bent her over the back of the couch, took aim and slid in to the hilt. Laura let out a long, low, moan, pushed her bottom back hard against my groin, came explosively after just two or three thrusts, her legs tensing, back arching, crying out in pleasure this time. She collapsed forward, on to the couch, legs splaying outwards. ‘Oh my god. Incredible. I haven’t come that hard in a long time.’ She twisted, smiled up at me. ‘Now for the main course. Come with me.’ She clasped a hand around my erection and led me into the hall, then to the bedroom. 

It looked as if it had been burgled. Clothes everywhere. Not just clothes. Mugs, plates, make up paraphernalia. The bedclothes were a mess, but the bed itself was clear of non-bed things. It was a big bed, with a high mattress. I wanted, more than anything, to be on it, with Laura. Then I had an idea.

‘Wow. I’ve never seen a room like this. Don’t you ever tidy?’ I turned her towards me, tried my best to look stern. ‘What would your mother say if she saw this?’ Laura turned, a frown furrowing her eyebrows. She looked beautiful when she frowned. ‘I don’t know. I suppose,’ she said, surveying the room, seeming to take it in for the first time,’ that I was a slattern. That was one of her favourite words.’

‘Like skelpit leathering,’ I suggested. 

She clasped her hands in front of her and faced me, defiant. ‘But you’re not my mother. What do you think you’re going to do about it?’ Her chin tilted up, her green eyes glinted a challenge. 

‘This.’ I pulled her through the piles of clothes, bent her forward across the end of the bed. Her hips at mattress level, she had to stand on tiptoe to reach the floor. I was still holding the slipper. One hand on the small of her back, I ignored her cries of outrage, raised it and brought it down, full force, across her reddened bottom. She cried out, and her hands clutched the covers. Eyes screwed tight, legs tensed, she held on as the heavy leather flashed across her rounded globes. Six, seven, eight times, the sound of leather on skin echoing round the room like gunshots. She cried out again, ‘Nooo! No more! Aaah!’ 

I dropped the slipper, flipped her on to her back and took my place between her legs. My fullness slid in easily, then out, to the tip, in again slowly. Laura scrambled on to the mattress, pulled me after her, splaying her legs wide, angling her hips towards me. Holding myself above her on straight arms I slid back in, then started moving. She met my downward thrust with a determined pelvic upthrust, holding on to my arms, then pulling me down on top of her. We became as one, me thrusting, Laura writhing, moaning, as her punished backside was pressed into the mattress. It didn’t take long for my orgasm to start building, and building, until I could contain it no longer. As my cock thickened and twisted inside her, Laura's nails dug into my shoulders and she arched her body under me as her own orgasm tore through her. 

We lay for a long time as our breathing returned to normal. Laura turned and inspected her bottom. I thought it looked wonderful, and told her. She smiled. ‘Easy for you to say, buster. You’re not going to have to sleep on your front for the next two nights.’ She hopped out of bed and crossed the room, both hands rubbing at the reddened skin. At the door she stopped, looked back. ‘Next shag, I’m going on top. And if there’s not a proper stiffie waiting for me when I get back, someone else is in for a skelpit leathering.’

I turned over, lay on my front, my growing erection pressing into the mattress. She was going to get her stiffie, but I was damn sure I was going to get my spanking first.