Legend
Copyright 1997-2002 by OldTom, all rights reserved.

He wrote the story to explain a legend he had once heard. He later discovered the legend to be quite real.

The time had come to show the legend to be true.

They had an audience of two, but those two were enough because these four were the closest of friends. This was a gathering of friends who spank and get spanked, of submissives and dominants.

Tonight was not to be a night of punishment, but of celebration. Celebration of their friendships, of their joy of spanking. And a testing of the legend, after these many months of practicing and preparation.

The first spanking was at random... or was it? Tom and Leslie sat slightly apart, ignored, as they watched a long and unexpectedly sensuous spanking. Was this for Leslie's benefit, or to show Tom someone else can give a good spanking too?

No matter; both were impressed. Is it really that easy to play the dominant as well as the submissive? Tom suspected not.

Tom set such questions aside. The mood was set, but he waited just a bit longer to savor the anticipation. A full minute passed, and then two...

And the time has now come to show the legend to be true.

Leslie begins to smile ever so slightly in nervous anticipation, obviously still warm by what she has just seen. Tom she ignores, letting her anticipation build, readying her body, her frame of mind, for what is to come.

Tom speaks, his tone of voice carrying throughout the room, making clear this is an order to be obeyed. "Leslie, come here."

Leslie's response shows this to be no casual thing. Her manner of obedience speaks volumes to their audience, about the depth and nature of that friendship.

Making a show of breaking her attention from the aftermath of the spanking just completed, Leslie comes to stand before him. She knows to stop directly in front of him, and to stay still. And she knows she is expected to speak.

"Yes, sir." They had practiced this, and she knows what is coming.

"Leslie, stand here right next to the chair. Turn and face them so they can see you, but stay where I can easily reach you."

She moves as directed, her body language showing her anticipation. But she waits quietly, taking no action on her own initiative.

"Now close your eyes and relax. Tell me when you are ready."

After a pause and a deep relaxing breath, the answer comes. "I'm ready, sir."

Tom pronounces, "Ten." He watches the two others watch, savoring their anticipation. They are just beginning to realize what is happening, and become an ever-more-rapt audience. Leslie, for her part, knows her role well. She touches her crossed wrists together, as if for binding. But the touching is ever so brief; her hands fall back to her sides. It is thus clear that touching her wrists is a specific motion, with a specific meaning.

She brings forth the image of pleasure, as she has so many times before. Since she is presently standing, she pictures herself as standing, and in the early stages of a spanking that will inevitably lead to orgasm. The image is automatic, coming almost without conscious thought by this point. She can feel the sting in her bottom, and this just adds to the arousal coming from observing the spanking across the room.

As she has been trained, she holds the image, making it feel more and more real, informing her body that orgasm is inevitably coming, anticipating the next stage.

As the moment draws out, she borders on impatience as she awaits the next stage. But the next stage will only come at his command, and this reminder adds to her heat.

When he feels she is settled and ready, he releases her to the next stage with "Nine." She brings her wrists together once again, but this time holds them pressed together as she brings her vision forward to the next image in her mind. She pictures the sting being just a bit too hard, putting her over the edge, and remembers that this, as always, is just what she asked for. For, in her mind, he always makes her ask. As her breathing becomes just the slightest bit ragged, she drops her hands back to her sides, one hand clenched.

He reaches out to gently stroke her bottom. He remains silent, except to count, but she needs to hear his voice. Thus his words echo through her mind, warning her to keep her hand out of the way. Her hand does stiffen and move back, hovering just barely out of the way of her imagined spanking.

He pauses in his stroking to rest his hand on one place, moving it ever so slightly to tingle her awareness. She gasps, and then moans, as she envisions the spanking being just a bit too sharp - he is concentrating on that one spot, and the rapidly-building sting is driving her up the wall. But then his stroking becomes an all-over touch, and she begins to purr in reaction to the strong spanking.

"Eight."

Her tolerance is far higher than it once was, and she visualizes the welts actually rising on her bottom in reaction to his continued stroking touch. She knows she won't be sitting down for a while, and this just makes her hotter. This spanking is urgently commanding her attention. It does not actually hurt, but the sting is all-encompassing, well beyond what her brain can handle. She continues to purr, but the tension is beginning to build.

"Seven."

Seven is the turning point, she knows. She may now build up her image of approaching orgasm. She has passed the point of no return; the control is now completely his. She is lost to her sensations. She is submitting completely to the experience, completely subject to the world of her spanking. She remains completely aware that this is all in her mind even as she feels the imagined sting in her bottom, and that she has given him complete control of her mind.

This is her point of greatest helplessness, the point where she chooses to give in completely to the inevitable, choosing to go with his will and not turn back.

She signals her complete submission by placing her wrists together once again, and keeping them there. Even though the binding is not visible, she knows they will remain bound together until he releases her.

"Six."

His gentle hand keeps her focus on her bottom, which she pictures as stinging more than she can handle. The spanks just keep coming and coming, without letup. She is desperately close to orgasm, but he will not let her push herself over the top, not yet.

She pictures her bottom as it is when it just hurts too much, the intense sting of welts feeding upon welts. She tries to reach back, but her wrists stay connected. For to separate her wrists would be to betray him. The control is his; her will is out of the picture.

The sting has long since built beyond what her brain can handle, yet she must stand there and take it. She has no choice but to watch the sting become greater and more urgent. She is forbidden to come until nearing the count of One. She cannot stop the spanking; she cannot reach behind with her wrists bound. This is too much for her pantings to absorb.

She cries out.

He continues to stroke her bottom. They both know the spanking will stay at this stage, this urgency, until the count of Three.

"Five."

She must now concentrate on keeping herself from going over the edge, for that is his will. But she well knows what the sting is like at this point. It is far beyond what her brain can encompass, yet she continues to take it in because she has no choice.

Her moaning and small cries become almost continuous as she tries to take it all in. She presses her wrists hard into each other lest they come apart and betray her.

"Four."

She knows the end is near, but not near enough. She knows she can't wait; it hurts too urgently, but she must.

"Three."

Now her tension has a path to channel through her. She pictures the orgasm coming on, its urgent mounting to wash over her in wave after wave. The sting becomes unbearable; she knows the time is near. His hand continues to stroke her bottom, keeping their relationship the focus.

"Two."

Two is her permission to tear down the dam, allowing the release to come flooding through her. Yet the spanking, in her mind, continues.

"One."

Ahhh... she has been spanked to orgasm, all in her mind. Yet the spanking continues, reminding her yet again of where the control lay. The count of one, however, stands as permission to speak.

"Please stop now, sir."

He withdraws his hand, his voice taking over as the method of their connecting. "You may open your eyes now, Leslie."

Now she has been freed from his world to relax and return to her own. She opens her eyes, her wrists moving apart as she places one hand on his chair to steady herself. She turns to him and smiles.

"I'm ready for a real spanking now, if you please, Sir."

"Leslie, the trouble with giving you a real spanking, is that you enjoy it too much. I have to be far too gentle with you, lest I put you over the edge too quickly.

"And today, I have no intention of being that gentle.

"So here is what I will do for you. First, I'll have you choose what items you would like me to use, besides my hand, and bring them to me while I move over to the couch. Remember to carry only one item at a time. This will be rough enough on you, without you being punished for failing to use your brain.

"Then bring me your blindfold, and the cord we use to tie your wrists together. Then you may remove your overalls, and return to stand directly in front of me. As is our custom, you may then ask for your spanking, in complete detail, so that we both know what to expect, and so that I have an easy response when you begin to tell me how much your bottom hurts.

"I will blindfold you, and then instruct you to hold your wrists out for binding. Then I will guide you across my lap, allowing you to lay along the surface of the couch so that you may be comfortable.

"Then I will give you a nice spanking, the kind that you like the very best. I think we know the inevitable result of such a spanking, don't we?"

"Yes, sir."

"You may ask me to stop spanking you at this point, but I will keep right on going. In fact, I will begin spanking harder, and you may experience some discomfort for a while. But I am patient, and understanding, and being who you are, you'll eventually find yourself over the top yet a third time.

"I am thinking the third time will prove the charm, but if it takes a fourth orgasm to settle you down, we can do that. But I think the third will be sufficient for what I have in mind.

"What I have in mind, is to grant your request. That is, to give you a real spanking. I will let you rest a bit, just stroking your bottom, but then I will begin spanking you again.

"I will start slowly. I will not push you beyond what you are ready for at the time. But I will spank you harder and harder. By time we are done, you will have received a long, very hard, spanking with the belt.

"This will be a new experience for you, and you will like it. For you have never had the chance to sink so deeply into that special 'sub-space' you have heard about. You have never been spanked that long, and that hard, for your pleasure.

"Now is your chance, if you are willing. Are you sure about this?"

She smiled. She repeated her request, this time matching his inflection. "I'm ready for a real spanking now, if you please, Sir."

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