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Authoritarian Woman Puts Me in My Place

Tags: lesbian, spanking,
I have to stay with a CEO and she's stern...
It was my first time being in a wedding and although I was nervous about it, I was more nervous about staying at the bride’s future mother-in-law’s house. I would have stayed at a hotel, but the mother-in-law had insisted. I had never met her, but had heard she was a little intense. Despite my hesitation, I agreed since I lived out of town and was already paying an arm and a leg to get to the wedding.

After grabbing dinner with my friend, she drove me to her future mother-in-law's house and turned to me with an apologetic look on her face. “I’m sorry to do this, Anna. You know I would definitely let you stay at my place but my whole family is there and…well, just call me if you have any problems.”

“Problems? Why would there be problems?” I asked worriedly.

“Not problems, maybe that’s too strong of a word…she’ll be very welcoming, but, you know, she’s not the CEO of Appleby Enterprises for nothing. I’m in awe of her and wish I could be like her, but trust me, she’s very strong-willed.”

“Is it just her? What happened to her husband?”

“They got divorced about ten years ago…I think they’re on good terms, but he’s just not her cup of tea if you know what I mean.” I can be pretty clueless sometimes, so I just looked at her blankly.

“What do you mean, cup of tea?”

“Anna, really…” My friend said exasperatingly. “She, uh, bats for the other team.” When I still looked confused she exclaimed, “She’s a lesbian!” I blushed.

“Ah, uh, I see. Well, no worries, I don’t care,” I fumbled over my words. It probably seemed like I wasn’t okay with homosexuality, but the truth was that I had recently come to terms with the fact that I was also gay, despite my strong determination to be straight. It had been a difficult past three years, and I wasn’t completely comfortable with it, but I had finally realized I couldn’t fight it anymore.

“Anna, you’re not still freaked out by gay people, are you?” My friend asked accusingly. She knew I came from a conservative and religious family, and that, like them, I had been a little grossed out by homosexuality growing up. I was taught that it was a sinful and disgusting thing, and this had played no small part in my struggle to accept my own sexuality. However, I was definitely not against it now.

“Oh no, Shelby, I’m cool with it. It just throws me off a little bit. But totally okay. What does she look like? Short hair and gym shorts?” I tried to joke.

My friend gestured with a glimmer in her eye, “See for yourself!”

“Aaa!” I exclaimed as I turned to see a figure just outside the car door. I opened it and met Ellen Tremaine face-to-face.

She was definitely not what I had envisioned when I thought of a forty-year old lesbian. She had an angled jawline and intense, grey eyes that were further illuminated by her long, dark blond hair. There was no question that she was beautiful, but the thing that got me was her presence. She just…even from that first look I could tell that I was encountering a strong, charismatic, and compelling woman. She seemed to radiate authority and gracefulness.

“He-hello,” I stuttered as I stepped out of the car. “You must be Miss Tremaine.”

She smiled at my nervousness. “I am, but you may call me Helen. It’s nice to meet you, Anna. Let me help you with your baggage.” She nodded to my friend, “Shelby. Did you get my message about the reception hall?”

“Yes, I was just about to message you back.” The two of them started discussing the wedding while we grabbed my bags and walked to the front door. Shelby made plans to call the florist and gave me a hug goodbye before driving away down the long driveway.

Helen led me inside and showed me up to my room. After setting my bags down with relief, I turned to her. “Thank you so much for letting me stay here. I really appreciate it, especially as it’s for such a long time.”

“You’re very welcome,” Helen smiled at me. “I do have one or two ground rules I need followed, but we can discuss that over tea. Why don’t you freshen up and meet me downstairs in half an hour?”

I was a little thrown by the “ground rules” part, but agreed, “Sure. Sounds good.”

Twenty-five minutes later, I hesitantly entered the living room. It was a gorgeous house full of high wooden beams, luxuriantly soft carpet, and a pervading elegance that must have cost a fortune to create. I was almost as overwhelmed by the house as I was by the hostess. I was already feeling nervous about seeing her, and I hadn’t been there thirty minutes. I could tell this was going to be a dangerous week, especially because I knew she was gay.

Usually my crushes were obviously straight and I didn’t feel any pressure to make a move, I just felt anguished that I liked them so much and they would never feel the same. This was frightening me, though. I tended to fall sparingly but very quickly and strongly for certain women and I could already tell this was another one. Of course, she would never be attracted to someone of my age and lack of confidence, but it was going to be painful for me to be in such close proximity to someone I was so attracted to.

“Stop it, Anna,” I chided myself. “You don’t even know her. First of all, she’s probably dating someone. Second of all, she would never like you, and third of all, you probably aren’t even into her.” I knew the last one was untrue, but I could never resist giving denial a chance, as evidenced by my three-year refusal to accept my gayness.

While I was struggling against my innate desires, Helen entered the living room without my hearing. Suddenly, I felt a hand tap my shoulder. “What are you thinking so seriously about?” She asked lightly.

I jumped and then blushed, trying to ignore how my body had tingled when she touched me. “Oh, hi, sorry, I’m just thinking about…umm…my future.”

“Your future, huh? Sounds like a complicated subject. Why don’t I make us some tea and you can tell me about it. What do you prefer, Earl Gray or herbal? Or would you like some espresso or coffee?

“Umm, Earl Gray sounds great.” I wasn’t sure if she actually wanted me to talk about my future, so I sat there silently for a moment until I remembered my manners. “Oh, uh, can I help you with anything?”

She looked at me and smiled, “No, you’re fine. Thank you, though. So, are you working at the moment?”

"No, I'm actually in-between jobs. I hear you run Appleby Enterprises?" I tried to change the subject, hoping she would take the bait. I hated talking about my last job.

"I do, but I'd love to hear more about you. Shelby tells me you were working at the Illinois State Capitol. Did you enjoy that?"

"It was okay. Not for me. This is a beautiful house, did you decorate it yourself?"

Helen poured boiling water into the mugs and then gazed at me inquisitively. "I have a funny feeling you're trying to change the subject. Did you get fired?"

I stuttered for a response, "Uh, no, I...I left. I had a...disagreement with my boss, and I couldn't continue working there." The truth was that I had been fired after my boss had tried to molest me and failed. I had a horrifying memory of being pinned down and groped at – helpless to escape, I had had the same sudden rush of fear as when I was six and the waves pulled me down in the ocean.

But, the world’s not fair and the senator had fired me for leaking political secrets to lobbyists. Not true, but now my name was ruined in politics and my career was done. Technically I was fired, but that was bullshit so I told everyone I left. I definitely did not want to continue this conversation.

"Anyway," I continued, "I'm just looking forward to enjoying this vacation. What are some good places to visit around here?"

She ignored my question again, and looked sternly at me. "You quit? Really?"

This was starting to get on my nerves a little bit. "Yes, I quit. Can we talk about something else?"

She raised her eyebrows at my tone. "The reason I ask is that Shelby told me you were fired. So, either Shelby was lying or you are."

"Fucking Shelby." I muttered.

"What was that?" She asked sharply.

"I said, fucking Shelby!" I said more loudly. "I can't believe she told you that and I can't believe you brought it up. Yes, I lied, I was fired. So fucking what." I normally wouldn't have been that rude, but this was a very touchy subject for me, and I was tired.

Helen didn't say anything for a few long seconds, but instead looked at me like I was a naughty child. I met her gaze defiantly, but her gray-green eyes bored into mine, and finally I looked away feeling embarrassed. She picked up her mug and walked around the kitchen counter until she was sitting on the stool next to mine.

"I'm not used to being spoken like that." Her voice was quiet but steely. "Do you usually treat your hosts like that?"

I felt a little cowed, but remembered how unfair my firing was made me angry again. “No, but I’m not usually questioned like I’m in an interrogation, either! I'm sorry, but I just want to talk about something else." I looked away, and then looked back when she didn't immediately respond.

Her piercing eyes bored into mine. “Okay. We will come back to this later." She took a sip of tea.

"I think now is a good time to discuss the rules of my house. Number one, I need you to be home by twelve, or else the automatic security alarm will go off. Two, I don’t want any drugs in the house. "Three," She paused to make sure I was paying attention, "You will respect me and my authority.” I looked down at the floor as she continued, “And four, I don’t want any guests without my permission. If you break any of these rules, there will be consequences.”

Geez, I felt like a small child. “Uh, sure, I can do that. I would of course ask you about guests and I don’t do drugs.” That was a lie. “And I can be home by twelve, no problem.”

"And number three? Respect me and my authority?”

I wasn’t quite sure about that one, but I said, “Yeah. Sure.” We both drank our tea and I felt a little nervous with the silence that fell. I always talk about the worst things when I get nervous, and this was no exception.

“So, what are the consequences? No TV, grounded for a week?” I laughed, attempting to be light-hearted.

Her eyes met mine in an uncomfortable gaze for a moment, and then she simply said, “Let’s just hope you don’t have to find out.” I did not like the way she said that.

The next day, I was busy helping my friend decorate for the wedding and after a long day we decided we deserved a drink at the bar. One beer led to a rum and coke, which led to a tequila shot, and before I knew it we were dancing and singing karaoke. I felt a little sick so I started to drink some water, and when I sobered up a little bit I suddenly remembered my new curfew.

“Oh shit, shit, shit.” I glanced at my watch: 11:52. “Shit!” I exclaimed.

“What’s up?” Shelby asked drunkenly.

“I have to be home by 12! Shit! I completely forgot! Damn and neither of us can drive.”

“Ahh it’s okay, she won’t care. It’s just a ten minute walk down Bridge Street. I’ll call Henry to pick me up, you walk home. Homey homey home.” She giggled and started talking to one of the other bridesmaids.

“Shit!” I exclaimed again, and ran out of the bar. I sprinted down the road, hoping desperately I would make it before 12. I didn’t really think Helen would do anything, but I didn’t want to piss her off the first night. She seemed like a scary person to get yelled at from.

I made it to the house by 11:58 and I pulled the door open with a satisfied grin on my face. BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP. The door shook as incredibly loud alarms sounded. I backed off with a shout, unsure if I should run away or call Helen. Suddenly, the alarms were silenced and door flung open with Helen standing there with a very intimidating frown on her face.

“Come inside.” She said brusquely, and I entered feeling like I was going to court. She closed the door and slowly turned to face me. “Do you know what time it is?”

“Uh, 11:58! I was on time!”

“No,” she said angrily, “It’s 2:58am. You are 3 hours late. Did you really forget the time change?” Now that she said it, I remembered. Shit.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think! I completely forgot.”

“Yes, you did. But forgetting isn’t acceptable. I expressly told you I needed you home by 12. Even without the time change, you still made it only by two minutes. You know that the alarm goes off at 12.”

I looked at my feet, unsure of what to say. “I’m really sorry. I promise it won’t happen again.”

“No, it won’t.” She said with finality. “Do you remember when you asked me about the consequences? You’re about to find out. Follow me.”

I followed her very unwillingly into the living room. She sat down on one of the armchairs and then looked at me for a moment, as if gauging my character. Apparently she liked what she saw because she had a glint in her eyes as she said firmly, “I believe in corporal punishment. You disobeyed my rules and now I’m going to punish you with a spanking. I want you to pull down your pants and panties and lie across my lap. If you don’t, I will make you. But I promise you, if I have to do it, you will get a very different spanking then the one you’ll get if you do it willingly.”

“What!” I exclaimed. “A s-spanking? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Language!” She said sharply. “That is not respectful.”

“No way. There is no way I’m taking off my pants, and I will fucking swear if I f-“ But at that moment I faltered on the curse word as she gave me the most intense stare I’ve ever had. I felt my insides melt a little, but I tried to press on, “I mean, you can’t just spank me, I’m twenty years old and an adult.” The liquor gave me sudden bravery to continue, “And it’s weird, I’m a girl and you’re a les-“ But just as suddenly as it came, the liquid courage left and I faltered under her anger.

“I’m a what? A lesbian?” She looked at me with disappointment and I felt even worse than I had before. “Does that bother you? I had you tagged as more accepting than that. Don’t worry, I’m not going to molest you, I’m just going to give you a spanking that I would give a child, because you have been as irresponsible and inconsiderate as one. You are then free to leave if my sexuality bothers you.”

“No, it’s not that, it’s…” I fumbled for words. I had barely voiced the thought to myself, so it was difficult to say to this woman, in this situation.

She spoke icily, without offering help. “It’s what?”

“I’m a, um, well, it’s weird because you’re a, er, because you’re…gay,” I settled on an easier-to-say word than lesbian, “and I’m, uh, also, uh…”

Enlightenment dawned on her face. “Ahh, I see. You’re also a lesbian?” I nodded, red-faced. “Don’t be so embarrassed, it’s not a disease!” She smiled and I couldn’t help smiling in return.

“Well, I’m glad you’re not homophobic, but you’re still getting a spanking. Maybe I’ll have to make it more severe so you don’t get turned on.” She still spoke sternly but with a slight smirk on her face, and I had the strange suspicion she was flirting with me.

“But this is really embarrassing, I don’t want to be… well, it’s weird.” I finished awkwardly.

“Are you attracted to me?” She asked abruptly.

“No!” I blurted out quickly, too quickly. “I mean, you’re extremely beautiful and impressive and attractive and your eyes are really amazing, but, I mean, that would be weird if I…” I faltered off as she stood up and walked over to me. She was six inches from me, almost touching me, and all of a sudden I was having trouble breathing. Then her body was centimeters from mine and I could sense the electricity passing between us as if it were something solid.

Her hand reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. My heart was beating like crazy now, and I couldn’t have moved even if I’d tried. She stroked my cheek with her fingertips and then paused, with her hand still on my face, to look me in the eyes. For a moment we stared at each other, me frightened and incredibly turned on, and her commanding and questioning. She must have found her answer because in the next moment her hands were cupping my face and her soft, full lips were on mine, and everything was magical.

I wasn’t even aware of what I was doing, only that her lips and tongue were meeting mine and my fingers were in her long, dark blond hair and her hands were gripping my arms and then – oh god – they were moving down to my chest and stroking and squeezing my breasts over my shirt. I felt that I was breathing my heart into her hands with each breath.

Her lips were soft and I tried to push my tongue into her, to dominate her, but she took my arms and with a firm grip that was almost painful, pushed me onto the sofa. I laid on my back staring up at her and she waited a minute, letting the moment linger and intensify until I was about to jump up, and then she was on top of me. Her knees straddled my left leg and she pushed my shirt up roughly, removed my bra, and started caressing my nipples with her mouth.

I was already about to burst when her hand slid down to my pants.

I started rocking my hips ever so slightly and her fingertips stroked me, softly at first, then more intensely. It was a strong yet gentle penetration, and the rest of my body was so turned on that every touch of her body to mine felt like moth wings full of electricity. I felt on fire, and it was with all of the thrill and pain of fire that my back arched as her fingers pushed deeper and harder. With her lips on mine I came in a blinding flash of ecstasy and fulfilment.

I slumped back, exhausted. I held her still-clothed body to mine and took a few breaths before I slid my hands under her navy blue silk blouse and up to her brassiere. I started caressing her firm breasts under the bra, and then together we lifted her shirt off and removed the bra.

I slid my tongue around her nipples and then started sucking at them and tried to fill my mouth with them. They tasted delicious, like salty peaches with less sugar and more musk. I rubbed my fingers across her flat stomach and then down to her pants. I unbuttoned them slowly and she started to pull them off, then stopped and said, “Let’s take this to the bedroom. I have some…implements… I want to try out on you.” As I stood up, she spanked my ass and grinned evilly, “Don’t forget about that spanking.”

She led me to her king-sized bed with black silk sheets and pushed me onto the bed, then climbed on top of me. We kissed and rubbed our hands over each other’s bodies, and then I rotated us so I was straddling her. I started kissing her breasts, and then licked my way down to her pussy.

I licked and sucked at her clit, then licked the whole vagina with my tongue flat. I continued to administer oral pleasure with my tongue while I stuck two fingers inside her. She moaned with pleasure and arched her back while I shoved my fingers in and out. She came with a loud groan of release and I licked her soft, wet lips.

We lay next to each other panting and then I wrapped my arms and legs around her and her fingers found my vagina again. We continued kissing while she shoved her fingers into my pussy, not to make me come, but to just to have herself inside of me. I moaned in contentment and pressed my body even closer to hers. Finally, we just laid together with our bodies as one, breathing in each other’s scents.

After an innumerable number of minutes, she stroked my hair off my ear and whispered into it, “Don’t think this will let you out of your punishment.”

I looked at her incredulously, but she returned my gaze with commanding eyes that conveyed the full force of her personality. “Naughty girls deserve spankings,” she said firmly, and I suddenly felt turned incredibly turned on as I pictured myself across her lap.

However, I still tried to save face. I wasn’t a child, and certainly wasn’t going to be spanked like one. “I don’t think that’s an option.” I said, trying and failing to be as authoritative as she was.

She looked at me with a glint in her eyes that I did not appreciate. “Oh, is that so?” And then, with one deft movement, she sat up and pulled me onto her lap.

“Hey!” I exclaimed. “What are you doing?!” I struggled to get up, but my legs were clamped under her leg and her left hand was holding me down by the small of my back. She was surprisingly strong.

“The less you struggle, the less painful the spanking will be. If you obey me in everything I tell you to do, you will only be sore for a couple of hours. If, however,” and I could almost hear her evilly grin as she said this, “you choose to disobey, you will have a much, much sorer bottom than that. Let us begin.”

Without any other warning her hand smacked down on my ass, and the sound of the slap echoed around the room. “Ouch!” I shouted. “That really hurt!”

She didn’t respond, but continued to rein down slaps with her board-like hand. I tried to wriggle out of the way, but the more I twisted around, the harder she smacked until I was struggling once again to get out of her grip and yelling, “Hey, stop, this isn’t cool! Ouch, that hurts! Owie! C’mon, I’m sorry, stop!”

She paused and I almost thought my pleas had worked. Even though my ass was burning, I was strangely saddened that the spanking was ending so soon.

She pushed me up and ordered me, “Go stand in that corner. I want you to wait there until I return.” Her tone invited no discussion, and I meekly went to the corner she had pointed at.

After five minutes, I heard her re-enter the room and I turned but she stopped me, “No. Stay there for a minute.” I suddenly felt extremely vulnerable as I stood there naked with what I was sure was a red butt.

After what seemed like hours but was probably only ten minutes, she told me to turn around and approach her. I looked and saw her sitting on the bed, fully dressed, with a hairbrush in her hand. I gulped.

She looked at me inquiringly and said, “Did you think that was it? A few slaps with my hand? Get across my knee in ten seconds or I’m getting the belt out.”

I could have argued, of course, and I probably could have left the room and gone to a hotel. But, for some inexplicable reason, even though I knew it would hurt like hell, I wanted this woman to spank me. I wanted to be vulnerable to her and I wanted her to have complete control over me.

With a silence and obedience that I think surprised her, I crossed the room and lay across her lap. “Is this going to hurt?” I asked in a small voice.

“Yes,” she said, caressing my bottom. “It’s going to hurt a lot. But afterwards you are going to feel incredibly turned on and I’m going to fuck you until you have the best orgasm of your life.”

And with that, she began…

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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