It was her birthday.  We spent the night celebrating with a few of her friends, toasting and chiding, but all in fun.  At about 10:00 pm, her friends left and we were all alone.

She was my best friend.  She'd celebrated this occasion forty‑nine times previously and I had been lucky enough to participate in about thirty of them.  But tonight was special, because she was special.

After a few more drinks and some idle conversation, she stopped, looked me in the eye and said, "Jim, you and I have been friends for a long time.  We've shared our hopes, our dreams, our feelings and our lives.  I've never been more open and honest with anyone else; but... there is one thing I've never told you.  And... I'd like to share that with you now."

I looked at this incredible woman with a gaze of wonderment and noticed that she was starting to blush.  As long as I have known her and as much as we have shared, I don't ever remember her being embarrassed around me.  Concern and curiosity were mixed as I gave her time to gather her thoughts and continue.

"Jim, I've always had a special desire... a special need, that I've never been able to express to anyone.  Even though I trust you completely and know that you would never put me down, this is still very hard for me to say."

I rested my hand on her knee and interrupted her. "Amy, look, it's easy to tell that this is something that is very important to you.  Take as much time as you need.  I'll always be here for you and whatever it is, I'll understand."

"I need to be spanked." The words flew out of her mouth in a very hushed whisper.

She looked at me for a response, but I hesitated.  I knew this was important.  I knew that she had just shared one of the deepest secrets of her life and I wanted to make sure that any reaction I gave was not perceived as anything other than caring and understanding.

"Please don't laugh at me or think I'm weird," she stated before I could respond to her previous disclosure.

"No, no, no," I finally was able to blurt out.  "I don't think you are weird and I hope you know me better than to think I'd laugh at you when you're sharing something as important as this.  I was trying to figure out whether I ought to make a smartass comment to ease the seriousness of the moment or whether I should just ask you `Why?' so that I have a better understanding of your need.  By the look in your eye, I'd say the `Why?' approach would be the most appropriate response."

We then spent the next hour discussing this most private of feelings.  She wasn't really sure why, but she knew that she needed and wanted to be spanked.  At first, just saying the word `spank' was hard for her.  But, as we talked more and she realized that I was not in any way judging her, she was able to relax and at least expound on the details of her desires, not necessarily the reasons for creating it.

Finally, I realized that it was time for me to act.  "Amy, you are my best friend and obviously, very special to me.  This is a very special birthday for you and you have shared a very special part of your life with me.  I think it's only fair that I give you a very special present."

"Please stand up," I directed with a hint of sternness.

She rose and stood before me.  I stood beside her and started to unbutton her blouse.  She knew that I was trying to accommodate her need, but still flinched initially as my hands worked the buttons loose.  As I slipped the blouse from her shoulders, I looked to see if she had changed her mind.  I don't know why but there appeared to be an acceptance in her eyes.

Easing her jeans down and off left her standing there in just her underwear.  Had this been another time or another place, the sight of this half‑naked, lovely lady would have brought thoughts of many other activities to mind.  But that was not what she desired, so I continued to undress her.

I tried to be confident and assured as I reached to unhook her brassiere, but my hands trembled slightly and it took several attempts before unlodging the connecting ends.  Had I broken the spell of the moment?  Her eyes betrayed no hint of swaying from the task at hand and I continued.

Her only remaining vestige of modesty slid easily down her thighs to the floor.  Gently raising one foot at a time, I slipped her panties off and set them aside.

She now stood before me, naked as the day she was born.  Although she had not escaped the impact of Father Time and gravity, I could see no flaws - only a very beautiful woman, who held a very special place in my heart.  This was the first time in the thirty years we had known each other that I had seen her completely naked.  For a moment, my mind diverted from the course of action that had been established.  This lady had been my friend, my confidant, my support and my very special friend.  I wanted to make her smile, to be gentle, to show her how much she meant to me and to give her pleasure.

But that was not her need and I shifted back to the duty I needed to perform.  As I left her standing there, I went to my study and returned with a straightback chair and set it in front of her.  Looking into her eyes, I noticed her normal confidence had been replaced by uncertain anticipation.  I started to ask her if she was sure that this was what she wanted, but I knew it was.

Sitting down, I reached out for her hand and gently led her across my lap.  The time had come and although I was nervous, I wanted this to be as special as she was.  She moved only slightly, to place her body in a more comfortable position, then settled down to await her destiny.

Slowly I raised my hand and then brought it down with moderate force on her right cheek.  I noticed the flesh indenting slightly and removed my hand quickly to its original upright position.  The outline of my hand could be barely seen where it had impacted her skin.  I repeated the procedure on the other cheek with similar results.  Was this what she really wanted?  Was this what she really needed? No sound emanated from her and I repeated the process.  Again no sound.

For the next minute or so, at about two-second intervals, I continued to raise and lower my hand, landing it over and over on various parts of her bottom.  As expected, the blood started to rise to the surface and her previous creamy white skin began to pinken.  The imprint of my hand was now much easier to see and again I questioned myself as to whether I could complete my task as she had requested.

Stopping for a second, I rested my hand on her bottom.  She flinched slightly from the unexpected gentleness but issued no commentary on halting the proceedings.  Again I raised my hand, but this time I increased the force of the impact and also increased the tempo to about once per second.  The change in procedure seemed to catch her off guard and she shifted her body slightly.

The flesh on her nether region was now indenting much more and I started to wonder if I was fulfilling her need or just causing her pain.  I wanted to stop and make sure that she was alright, but I knew that was not what she wanted, so I continued.  Over and over my hand rose and fell.  Time after time my hand impacted her flesh.  A steady staccato was the only sound heard.

Finally, I heard it.  A slight moan, barely audible above the slapping of my hand to her bottom.  Could I continue?  I knew I had to but the redness of her rear end caused me to pause for a fraction of a second to reassess the situation and reassert my resolve to provide the special present I had promised.

I knew the end was near, but it had to be the end she had asked for.  Now my hand had almost a will of its own as I increased both the intensity and tempo.  Her body started to rise and fall to meet its fate and more moans were elicited.  Again and again and again her body and mine met.  Not gently, not caressing, not bringing her pleasure (or was it?).

I had to stop.  Had I given her the special gift that she needed and wanted?  Had I been too cruel?  My mind whirled with question after question.  I wanted desperately to show her how special she was to me and grant her the special request she had made of me.

As she rose slowly from my lap, I wanted to ask her many things.  However, I held my interrogation and looked into her eyes.  Had I disappointed her?  Had I hurt her?

She slowly lifted her head and as she looked at me, I no longer needed any answers.  Without saying a word, she smiled and hugged me. 

I told you she was something special.