Dance Class Partners - M/f ending
by EC

James let one night go by before calling Carrie. He was desperate to talk to her and see her again, but didn’t want to let on. What he didn’t realize was that she had him figured out. She knew he was desperate to see her again, and also knew that he would try (and fail) to hide it from her. After all, he was only 18, an inexperienced and naive 18. He called right when she expected him to call, on the second night she had made herself available to talk to him.

There was a dilemma facing James that struck him only after she had picked up the phone. When you’re 18, just where do you invite a woman who is 32? He hardly could imagine taking her to a campus party. He had no clue what kind of movie she might like. When he suggested taking her out to a hamburger restaurant near campus, she flatly told him she didn’t eat meat. That rebuke unsettled him and left him with no other options. Finally she resolved the problem herself.

“I’m working the early shift on Friday and I’m getting off at 6:00. Why don’t you just pick me up at work and we’ll head back to my place? I’ll cook you dinner.”

James agreed. He was nervous about going back to her house and not really looking forward to eating whatever she’d be cooking for him, but he realized he might be even more uncomfortable with her in public. It was true that going back to her house was the best option.

Friday afternoon James left his dorm and caught a bus to go the short distance from campus to Carrie’s restaurant. The restaurant was fairly nice and Carrie was wearing a black dress that was the uniform for all female employees. Her hair was done up and she was wearing make-up. The make-up was a bit of a surprise to James, because he had never seen her wearing anything on her face before.

As they made their way back to her house, Carrie put James at ease by getting him to tell her about his week. He talked, she listened. She knew what he really wanted was to find out something about her. However, she had no intention of letting him know anything apart from some minor details of her daily life. Her past was off-limits to anyone apart from herself, which was why she carefully locked up all of her mail and memorabilia.

She did share one detail about her life with him, something that made him understand her diet. Being around the smell of cooking all day, especially meat in its various stages of preparation, nauseated her. When she got off work she couldn’t even look at normal food without getting sick. What she ate at home were items not usually served in restaurants, healthy items that didn’t create a stench when being prepared. She shared this detail with James not because she had let down her guard, but because she wanted to let him know that she had no desire to go to any restaurants.

The routine for the meal at her home was a bit different than it had been the first time. Carrie asked her guests to help her cut vegetables, set the table, and clean up. He didn’t mind, because he would have been much more nervous if he had just sat watching her and doing nothing himself. She kept him busy and spared him the need to break the silence of the kitchen with conversation.

After dinner Carrie directed James to help her clean up. She then used the bathroom and cleaned off her make-up. She left her panties and shoes in the bathroom. She came out wearing her work dress with nothing underneath. She turned on her usual favorite music and approached her young lover. For a long time they kissed passionately. He explored her body with his hands and realized she was completely naked under her dress.

James was much more at ease on this second night than he was on the first night. He was more in control now that he knew how to make love to her. She was worked up. He unzipped the back of the dress and pulled it over her head. She did not resist. He ran his hands down her back and caressed her exposed bottom. As his hands explored her firm, thin backside his eyes happened to fall upon the paddle. The paddle fired his imagination as he realized he desperately wanted to spank her. He wanted her bottom to be his, to touch, to explore, to enter, to slap, and to punish. He wanted her to surrender herself. He realized that was what she wanted as well.

The thoughts and fantasies running through James’ mind were totally new in their intensity and their hold on his soul. Prior to that moment his lack of experience with women had given him a vague desire to cuddle and be held, something that in real life had happened only sporadically when he was in high school. What he felt now was the raw power of real sexual desire, not a vague idea of love or romance. He continued to fondle her bottom, running his fingers over her buttocks and exploring the sweaty area in between with his fingertips. His eyes stayed focused on that paddle as he continued to explore her bottom and kiss her neck. At that moment he understood something very important. He was destined to spank her that night, but not quite yet.

Carrie unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants and underpants to his ankles. Quickly she pulled his shirt off. She knelt and gently circled the tip of his penis with her tongue. That was all he needed. He pushed her to her hands and knees on the floor. She complied, spreading her legs and turning her bottom up as she lewdly exposed herself to his eager gaze. He ran his fingertips over her vagina, partly to arouse her, but also partly to make sure he knew where the opening was. A couple of seconds later he was inside, vigorously thrusting as the image of her lovely thin bottom and the leather paddle continued their hold on his imagination. This was only the third time he ever had sex in his life, but now he knew what he needed to do. He pushed hard as he held and massaged her shoulders. She gasped quietly as she climaxed. She was very quiet about her orgasms, but James knew her well enough to realize he had completely satisfied her.

They separated and she laid a towel on the sofa for him to sit on. As before, she went to the bathroom and came back with a wet washcloth. She knelt in front of him as she gently wiped clean his penis. She gently the tip once she was done, and then, as before, wadded up the washcloth and threw it at her washing machine.

James knew that before the night was over Carrie was destined to take a spanking from him. It was something that she needed, although at that moment he still didn’t realize how badly she needed.

He was maturing very fast. He knew that to make his time with Carrie meaningful, he had to be considerate of her needs. He was smart enough to know that how he spanked her would be very important. He couldn’t just grab her and put her over his lap. He needed to go much more slowly and make the spanking part of a much larger experience. He couldn’t be rough or impatient with her. Instead he needed to spank her slowly, with love and tenderness. She would feel real pain, but a gradual sensual pain given by someone who cared about her.

They sat together on the sofa for a few minutes. He gently played with one of her breasts, tickling the nipple and watching as her aroela crinkled at the touch. What he really wanted, however, was to touch and fondle her bottom. He moved his hand from her breast to her hip, trying to get his fingertips as far down as he could between her skin and the towel. She picked up on the hint.

“Do you want to see my bottom?”



She lay across his lap and folded her arms under her face. Then she closed her eyes and relaxed. She spread her legs slightly and relaxed her bottom-cheeks, allowing him to explore her backside in detail. For a very long time he did just that, running his hands over her tanned bottom-cheeks, tracing her anus with his fingertip, and touching the wet, sensitive area between her legs. She sighed with pleasure, clearly enjoying what he was doing to her.

He went from massaging her bottom to gently patting it. He patted more and more in a mock spanking motion, to let her know that unless she stopped him, he would start spanking for real in a couple of minutes. She didn’t stop him at all. Quite the contrary, just before he was about to deliver his first soft slap, she said:

“If you want to spank me, I’d like that.”

He began slowly. He spanked just hard enough so she could feel the slaps. A pinkish color slowly built up in her bottom as his hand moved up and down on alternate sides. She sighed and turned her backside up slightly, to let him know that she was enjoying the spanking and wanted him to start spanking a bit harder.


James spanked much more forcefully after the gentle warm-up slaps. He took his time, enjoying the reddening bottom stretched over his lap and his lover’s struggled breathing as she gasped from a combination of pain and pleasure. She made no effort to tighten her muscles or avoid the swats. No, she kept her bottom spread and turned up. She wanted the spanking to continue.


James spanking

Carrie was becoming very aroused. The smell of her excitement filled the room and her crotch was totally wet with the juices of her pleasure. She was not being spanked for punishment, but instead being spanked out of love. For her the heat and stinging in her backside was love in its purist form. In Carrie’s life, love always had meant a mixture of pain and pleasure.

Finally, after about 20 minutes, Carrie’s bottom was quite red and slightly swollen. Her entire body was covered with sweat and trembling with pleasure. She still was lying across his lap. She was where she belonged, where she felt at home. She was immensely happy.

The sound of the slaps and happy sighs, and also the feeling of her body lying over his lap aroused James tremendously. She truly was a lovely sight. He wanted her so badly.

He guided her to the floor on her elbows and knees. She obediently spread for him, her wet vagina beckoning from between her red bottom-cheeks. At that moment she was not Carrie, the 32-year old waitress, but Carrie, the woman of his desires and fantasies. He entered her and thrust so hard it hurt her slightly, but that was what she wanted. She wanted the pain to continue, because from that pain came her pleasure. It was his best orgasm yet, and her best orgasm in years.

James spent a second night at her house, and once again woke up alone the next morning. As usual, she had left at 5:30 to open her restaurant and entrusted him to lock the front door when he left. This morning he was hungry enough to eat from her refrigerator. It turned out the yogurt was palatable if he mixed it with some fruit.

She had left him a note telling him she’d see him at the dance class on Monday, because she had to work all weekend. As he departed his eyes happened to fall upon the paddle hanging on her wall. He hadn’t used it on her. For some reason that reminded him that he still knew nothing about her past. That part of her was as hidden as it had been the first day they met.


The weekend came and went. James’ roommate seemed curious about the two nights he had spent away from his room. However James offered no clues, apart from saying the obvious: that he been gone because he “had other things to do”. He spent Saturday and Sunday catching up on his coursework, suspecting, and hoping, that he would spend Monday night at Carrie’s house again. When alone he practiced his dance steps, hoping to perform a bit better in the class when he danced with Carrie. He was determined not to disappoint her. He went to the gym and worked out, but apart from exercising and practicing dancing he spent Saturday and Sunday trying to move ahead in his coursework. For the first time since starting school he did not waste time wandering around town in frustration, but instead pushed himself academically.

The change in his life also included what he ate. Over the weekend he chose healthier food at the dorm cafeteria. He wasn’t quite ready to forgo meat yet, but he passed up fried chicken and desert to concentrate on eating more vegetables and fruit. By Sunday night the change of diet, plus his exercising, made a noticeable improvement on how he felt. For the first time since starting college, James was not depressed, because now he had something in his life to look forward to.


The following Monday night James and Carrie paired off again in the student recreation center ballroom. They were happy to see each other, but Carrie seemed a bit sad and out of it to James. He wondered why. Still, she seemed pleased that he had taken the trouble to improve his performance on the dance floor. She spent the next hour working with him to help him improve even more, to the point that if he were to go into a nightclub he could avoid making a total fool out of himself.

For the third time in their lives they walked back to her house along the bitterly cold sidewalks. For the third time in their lives she fixed him dinner and for the third time in their lives they cleaned up the kitchen.

However, what was different was Carrie’s mood. She seemed distant and increasingly sad. She turned on her normal New Age music and listlessly sat down on her sofa. James joined her, but he could tell she was not yet in the mood to be kissed, and possibly not in the mood to have sex at all. What she wanted was to be held and comforted. Something was bothering her, but he was afraid to come out and ask.

He suspected he knew what it was. She had grown tired of the relationship and was about to tell him. Of course. It had always happened that way before: the girlfriend’s moodiness as she worked up the courage to tell him…It had always happened this way before, every break-up had been the same…

“James…I…I want to ask you something.”

He drew a deep breath. He thought he knew what was coming, but he didn’t. What she wanted was not to leave him, but something totally different.

“If I…ask you to do something to me, something that might seem a bit weird, can you do it, and promise that you’ll never ask me why?”

“Uh…I guess…”

“No. You can’t ‘guess’. I need a yes or no answer from you. I gotta to trust you on this.”

“Alright. I promise. I won’t ask.”

She said nothing more for a few minutes, but then she kissed him. She stood up, pulled her sweater over her head, and unbuckled her jeans. James stood up as well intending to get undressed, but she motioned him to sit back down and keep his clothes on.

Once she was naked, Carrie took out a camera and made sure it was loaded with film. Then she walked over to the window and took the paddle off its hook on the wall. She set the camera on a nearby table and knelt in front of her bewildered lover. She handed him the paddle.

“Punish me.”


“Punish me. I have to cry right now, and I can’t do it unless you punish me. After I start crying, I want you to take my picture. Then I’ll need you to continue…punishing me, that is. It’s going to need to really hurt. Do you love me enough to be able to do that for me?”

“Yes. I love you. I’ll do whatever you want.”

James’ own words shocked him. He hadn’t realized it until that moment, but he did indeed love her. She needed him, he needed her, and he loved her.

He fully understood that she was not submitting to punishment from him, but punishment from herself. She needed to be punished, but because she could not do it on her own, needed him to help her. He was the one who needed to wield the paddle.

She took one of her old armchairs out of its corner and placed it in the center of the room. Then she positioned her body by bending over the back and firmly gripping the arms with her hands. She spread her legs, stuck out her bottom, and closed her eyes.

He took a few moments to enjoy her bottom before cruelly marking it with the paddle. He gently ran his hand over her trembling, sweaty backside. He loved the feel of her resilient skin and firm muscles, a lovely sight that was the youngest-looking part of her body. He penis stiffened under his pants as he realized how aroused the sight her body was making him.

He caressed her bottom with the paddle to let her know that her requested spanking was only a few seconds away. He drew back and delivered a respectable swat against her left bottom-cheek. The blow made a satisfying noise, half-way between a CRACK! and a POP!

She inhaled slightly, but otherwise made no noise. However, her expression seemed relaxed. The tense, unhappy look from earlier in the evening had vanished.


James proceeded slowly, swatting her on the left side, then on the right, then across the middle. Each POP announced a new angry pink welt laid on top of the ones already on her bare backside. At first Carrie enjoyed the intense heat and stinging, but that wasn’t why she had asked James to discipline her. Soon enjoyment turned into suffering as the pain went from stimulating to unbearable.


The welts hurt more and more, but the spanking did not stop. She trusted James to continue spanking until she told him to quit, and she was not about to give herself any mercy. She deserved to suffer, because only through suffering could she find atonement for what she had done. She gritted her teeth as tears began flowing down her cheeks. She couldn’t stand it any longer, but she would just have to. She had no right to quit, not now…


By now Carrie’s bottom was a dark, angry-looking red. He kept swatting her, because she had not told him to stop. After all that time and all those blows, she was just beginning to cry. James was horrified, fascinated, and extremely aroused all at once. Then she told him to pause and take her picture.

She turned her head back to the camera so her face was clearly visible. He took a full body shot from the left, a close up of her bottom, and then a full-body shot from the right. Tears were running down her cheeks, but she looked right into the camera, determined to make sure she was recognizable to anyone looking at the pictures. That part of his duty completed, James set down the camera and again picked up the paddle.

The final part the spanking was the hardest. She cried pitifully each time he struck. Her body heaved with sobs in between swats. However James did not quit. He was determined to keep his promise. No matter what, he would force himself to continue spanking until she told him to stop.

Finally, she pushed up from the chair and fell into his arms. He was relieved, because her bottom was badly marked and he didn’t see how she could take much more. She was traumatized and would still be in a lot of pain long after the spanking ended.

What she needed was to cry and be held. He comforted her, stroking her hair and wiping away the tears. They stood in silence as her crying slowly died down. Finally they sat on the sofa and she rested her head on his chest. He knew better than to try to say anything. She was lost in her own torments and at that moment was confronting her inner demons.

Carrie’s dark mood passed and she cheered up considerably. She guided James’ hand over her breasts and down her stomach. He slipped his fingers between her legs and very gently touched her clitoris. She gasped and went wet immediately. He explored her breasts with his mouth, gently licking her nipples and pinching them with his lips. The reaction was immediate. She gasped and felt for his crotch. She fumbled with his zipper with one hand, but it was James who paused for a second to unbuckle his belt and pull down his pants.

Carrie moved to the floor. She got on her elbows and knees, spreading her bottom wide. She still was in a lot of pain and her backside was very swollen and red. Her posture and expression begged him to take her. James kicked off his pants and pulled his shirt over his head. He entered her, totally aroused at the sight of her punished bottom and trembling, sweaty body. She was wild with happiness and pleasure. She pushed back towards him, wanting him as deeply inside her as possible. She wanted to feel his body pressing against the welts from her punishment. She needed this. She had needed it for such a long time.


James spent his third night at Carrie’s house. They slept soundly, but at 5:00 she was up and at 5:30 she was out the door. As before, she left him a note with her schedule for the week on it.

He got up at 7:00, ate some of her yogurt, fruit, and oatmeal, and left her house. This time he didn’t bother to try to find out anything more about her. He didn’t need to know anything more. He loved her, she loved him, and they would be there for each other. That was all that mattered.

James stepped outside into the bitter cold of a bleak January morning. As he walked past the larger house and exited to the street, he passed a trashcan. He could not have known that something very significant was discarded in there, a razorblade from Carrie’s bathroom. It was the same blade she had used to cut her wrist the previous year. Because of him, she no longer needed it. Because of him, she could look forward to living again.

The End

Copyright 2006 by EC
EC's Erotic Art & Fiction -