Across Mr. Goodwin's Lap

Today - Sunday, 4:55 PM

"Hands on the sofa, Lacy."

Her delicate hands assumed the position.

"Legs apart. Shoulder width."

She shimmied her feet, her toes screaming at her in the super-high-heels.

"Arch your back."

Oh god.

Taking a deep breath, she leaned backward, thrusting up and out the tiny flesh-mounds pooling out of the top of her corset formed. The stance pushed her ass out, too. She could not look. Her eyes were locked shut. She did not want to see the look Mr. Goodwin was giving her while in this position. She knew what this looked like...

...what I look like...

As she felt the petticoats pushed up onto her back, her cheeks throbbed with embarrassment. The blood rushing to them seemed to pump in perfect unison with her throbbing erection.

"Now, how many did I say you deserved?"

Lacy's eyes flew open in horror.

...I don't know...

She could not remember. Tricia had said the number less than a minute ago, and yet, all she had heard at the time was that she was going to be spanked. A number had been said, but it had not been retained.

...shitshitshit...

Was it fifteen?

Thirty?

It was something insanely high. She knew that much.

Three spanks is too many.

When Tricia spanked, it was hard and as very non-erotic. Lacy was still sore from the ones she received only a couple of hours ago.

Ten?

Surely, it was a bigger number than that after the spectacle she caused.

Oh, God! More than ten?

Better to err on the side of caution.

Fifteen?

It was probably twenty.

Oh, God! I'm not going to sit down for a week.

"Fifteen, Miss Sellers?"

The number left her lips before her brain could argue.

Oh, fuck! It was twenty. She's going to make it even more now.

Tricia chuckled behind her.

"Right you are, Lacy. Fifteen."

Lacy breathed a huge sigh of relief, and found herself suddenly staring at Mr. Goodwin. He was covering his mouth, the hint of a smile visible behind his hand.

What is HE smiling about?

His eyes locked with hers. She suddenly realized that she was making eye contact with him and slammed her lids closed again.

He's not there.

No one is there.

I'm all alone.

I'm being spanked in an empty room where no one can...

The first smack caused her to squeal. It was a high, mewling sound that leapt from her throat. She had never been hit that hard in her life.

"Please count for me, Lacy."

Oh, God! That was only...

"One."

Behind her, Tricia chuckled again.

"Let's hope you can count to fifteen, yes, little maid?"

Lacy whimpered. Her ass was tense. Every muscle in her body was tense. The next smack was on its way and the anticipation for it was almost worse than the...

...Ooooooh!

The sound filled the room. First there was the fleshy crack of the spank and then the howl from the receiving end. The anticipation was nothing. The pain was the worst. Almost the worst. The worst thing was knowing there was another one that could happen at any se...

"Lacy! Count off!"

Oh, God!

"Two."

She could sense Tricia shifting behind her and she braced herself.

"Good girl."

Tricia's voice was right next to her ear. She felt her Mistress leaning against her, the breath hot on the side of her face. Beneath her petticoats, she felt a hand lightly wrap around her exposed protrusion. It was not hard anymore. The pain had driven that embarrassment away. The warm hand caused it to begin to stiffen back.

Lacy snapped her eyes open at the sudden touch.

Tricia was pressed against her, with lips almost right inside of Lacy's ear. Mr. Goodwin had not moved. He still sat on the other side of the room, staring at her unblinking. Her eyes darted down. The high-backed sofa was preventing him from seeing what Tricia was doing beneath the petticoats.

...although he has to know she's doing SOMETHING...

With no warning, the hand not stroking between her legs smacked Lacy's backside. It was the hardest hit yet. She whimpered in pain, her eyes darting across the room and locking onto Mr. Goodwin again. His pupils were huge. She shut her eyes.

"Three."

As the word squeaked out of her, Tricia's left hand began to move. It slid back and forth along Lacy's now erect cock. She whimpered again and found her eyes opening in pleasure. As they focused, she found herself gazing at Mr. Goodwin again. Their eyes locked and again she darted them away.

Why is she doing this?

Inside her head, Mark was screaming.

My wife is spanking me in front of a guy!

My wife is masturbating me in front of a guy!

My wife is...

Another spank creates another howl of pain. Lacy bit down on her lower lip to keep from crying out even louder. Tears were beginning to fill her eyes, even as a different kind of liquid began to ooze from down below.

"Do you like this, Mark?"

Her voice against his ear. It was so soft that he thought he might

be imagining it. The use of his male name made Lacy retreat.

"Do you, Mark? Do you like being Lacy right now?"

She was whispering so that only he could hear. Yet, there was no way to answer without Mr. Goodwin seeing his lips. Tricia's mouth was mostly hidden by her angle and his own strawberry-scented hair. Mark on the other hand, was facing Mr. Goodwin. He was looking directly at him.

He whimpered and shook his head no, closing his eyes again.

"I guess you don't want that last one to count..." her voice was back to the regular volume. She was performing, putting on a sexy domme show for the man across the room. Mark screamed as the next smack happened without warning.

"Five! That's five! Please, God! Five!"

"What happened to four, Lacy?"

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so, sorry. Please! Just please... I can't do this..."

"Can my little bimbo not count?"

"No. I can't. I'm sorry...." his voice was still coming out soft and high. It seemed to be stuck on Lacy mode. He tried to make it stop. He tried to lower it to normal and could not find Mark's voice anywhere.

"Please, stop... Please!"

Beneath his petticoats, hidden behind the sofa, Tricia's thumb began to rub the underside of his erection. The last 'please' became a moan of pain and pleasure mixed together in a swirl of confusion.

"I'm afraid we'll have to count that last one as four, Lacy. You need to pay more attention and remember to count when you're supposed to."

"...please..."

Tears were beginning to fall now.

"Besides..." now her voice was a whisper again, her lips almost nibbling on his ear, "We want the fun to last as long as we can, don't we?"

"...please, Tricia... please... I can't do th...."

Another open palmed smack on his ass. It knocked the words out of him. He scrambled to think of a number.

Any number?

No! The right number you dumb, bimbo!

The right number?

"F...F...five..."

He was completely leaking now. Her hand was beginning to get covered and slick with his arousal. It made the rubbing even more intense.

Why am I still aroused?

He was in so much pain, and yet...

"I'll stop if you want me to Mark..."

Her voice was again a whisper that only he could hear.

"...oh, God... please stop..."

"If..." her hand began to move faster, sliding up and down his short, erect shaft, "...you beg Charles for help."

"What!?!"

The word popped out of his mouth in his regular, although slightly breathless and pitchy, voice.

Another incredibly painful smack hit him and he squealed like a stuck pig. The tears on his cheeks were free flowing now.

"Six. That's SIX!" he shouted.

A hand was in his hair, pulling his head back closer to the tormenting, whispering lips.

"Beg Charles for help."

Her voice was audible only to him.

He had to beg this stranger to get her to stop beating him.

But if I do that...

If he begged, she would stop rubbing him too and he was so close to release.

...But the pain is soooo bad...

He was not going to make it to fifteen. He was not going to make it to TEN. The stinging burn on his backside was turning his legs to jelly, the arousal making them wobble even worse.

"Please..."

One more breath-taking smack was all it took. He would do anything to not get hit again. The pain was more than he could take.

"Seven. Please... Mr. Goodwin..."

The hand beneath his petticoats stopped. Thankfully, so did the one spanking him.

The whisper was in his ear again.

"Louder, Mark. Ask him for help."

"Please! Mr. Goodwin... will you help..."

"So you want Charles to finish this, Lacy?" Tricia's voice even louder then before, speaking more for the stranger in the room than for him.

Mark's tear-filled face swiveled rapidly to look at his wife.

No! That is not what I want. That's not what I meant! She knows that... She told me to beg for help...

...not for him to help HER!

"You were right..." His laughing voice cut through the room. "... she does WANT me to do it. I wasn't sure."

No!

No, I don't want this!

I don't want any of this!

Mark tried to get the words to come out of his mouth, but they were lost. His painted lips opened and closed like a fish.

"Oh, please. There's nothing this slut likes more than a spanking. I swear she messes up on purpose."

Nonononono!

The hand under his skirts stroked him once... twice... and suddenly Mark was fighting back an orgasmic explosion. He gasped, holding his breath. He tried desperately to think of something...

...anything...

...except the situation he was in.

He could not cum from this...

...not now...

...exposed as he was.

He pushed the tidal wave back and thankfully her hand stopped moving just in time to BARELY allow him to control himself.

"Why don't you have a seat over here, Charles? No need for you to put yourself out. Lacy can come to you."

Lacy's eyes snapped open again at the words and he found himself staring into the hungry eyes of the man on the other side of the room. For a moment, time seemed to stop and Mark found himself lost in the situation.

Tricia is going to let this man spank me.

I'm going to have to walk over to him and let him spank me.

I'm going to be spanked across a man's lap.

Inside his brain, Lacy squealed with the fantasy.

Mark, on the other hand, was shaking his head violently. The tears on his cheeks started streaming.

"Come on, slut," Tricia said, grabbing a handful of his hair. With no warning at all he was being half-dragged around the sofa. He staggered after her, the heels nearly causing him to go down in a heap of ruffled petticoats.

In the flurry of painful hair pulling, he did not see the man move. By the time they were around the couch, he was already sitting there. There was a sharp tug upward on Mark's hair and he found himself standing straight and tall. With his back arched, he knew the image he presented. He was presenting a slutty display right in front of the seated man.

"See."

Tricia's voice was full of a cruel humor as she lifted his petticoats.

Mark died a little inside.

He was less than two feet from the seated man who was at eye level with Mark's now throbbing erection. It pulsed and throbbed as it was displayed. Mark could feel a drop of liquid squirt and then drip out of it.

"Well look at that," Mr. Goodwin laughed. "She's a wet little slut. She does like it."

The world went black for a second as he started to faint. The sharp tug on his hair yanked him back to standing straight and kept him from collapsing to the floor.

"Stand up, Lacy," Tricia barked and then chuckled. "See, I told you. She's been trying everything she can today, just to get you to pay attention to her."

WHAT?!

Mark was flabbergasted that she could even say that.

"Isn't that right, Lacy?"

His mouth was making fish shapes again as he tried to find words...

...any words...

...words that would make this stop.

I don't want this!

This was too far...

...too much...

He had to say something. He had to... "Is that as big as she gets?" His eyes went wide. Did the man really just ask... "I'm afraid so..." Mark's face dropped. "Not much to work with, is it?" "She more than makes up for it with her mouth." Oh, god! "I have no doubt of that." "Besides, look at the rest of her body. Liquid sex." The world went black again, his legs crumbling beneath him. It took the pull on his hair AND an arm from Tricia to keep him standing. "Look at that... she can't wait. Here..." Mark felt himself gently flung forward. He was flying through space and... NO! Strong, rough hands grabbed him. The world began to spin and he was upended. Every garment on his body, constricted or fluttered. Then the fantasy... ...the deep, dark fantasy...

...became a vivid, horrible reality.

I'm across a man's lap.

I'm dressed as a submissively slutty maid and I'm about to be spanked by a man.

His face was a foot from the ground, his feet about the same. His ass, on the other hand, was two feet higher, pivoted on the man's lap. Worst of all, the erection...

...my erection...

... was still very prominent, poking down between the man's legs. He could feel Mr. Goodwin's thighs close around it as if locking him into position with the protrusion.

Mark struggled, wriggling this way and that.

I have to stop this.

He had to get away.

It was no use.

Mr. Goodwin had Mark's arms pinned to his sides.

He tried kicking his feet, but it did little except agitate the 'pivot point'.

...please, no..."

It was his voice and not Lacy's. Mark had finally found his real voice.

Yet, it was so soft.

...so submissive...

It was virtually no different from Lacy's as it turned out.

"Four more, Mr. Goodwin. She might want fifteen, but let's not make her ass too red. There will be plenty of opportunity for that later."

"Four more," he agreed.

A hand caressed his ass. It was a strong, rough hand unlike anything he had ever felt. This was not a spanking. This was a fondle. It sat unmoving on his cool, creamy skin.

It squeezed and Mark squealed.

Mmmph!

He felt more helpless and exposed than ever in his life. His bare behind was on display for the man holding him. It was right in front of this man, offered up for whatever the man wanted to do to it.

He desperately tried to relax his brain and let Lacy come back to the front. He tried with all his might to feel feminine and enjoy it. He tried anything to escape this horror and humiliation.

Lacy was no where to be found.

This was too much for even the slutty, bimbo maid.

She sat in the back of his head and refused to come out.

"She has a great ass, Tricia." Mr. Goodwin's voice seemed to be coming from a completely different universe. "I think we can definitely work something out."

Mark was not listening. There were three things that kept cycling in his overly-stimulated brain.

The first was how he was positioned. The blood was running to his head and he could not breathe. The corset was crushing the life out of him, making it worse and worse.

The second overwhelming thought focused on the hand cupping his ass. It was squeezing now...

...massaging...

...fondling...

The fingers were spread, covering one entire cheek. The thumb was nestled...

...pressing...

...lightly into the groove.

The third cycling thought was a realization of something new.

There was something...

...something very big and very hard...

...pressed against the front of his hip.

"Later," Tricia said, "I believe she needs four good spanks, Charles."

They both laughed and then, with no warning, there was the first of four sharp cracks.