I cannot believe how crazy this day has been. It all started when my stupid alarm went off when I was just about to cum. I knew I would be late for work if I did not get out of bed immediately so I did not have time to finish. My pent-up sexual frustration set me off on a naughty streak that had only escalated as the day went on.
I made my first poor decisions of the day while getting dressed. Working as a maid gave me a lot of freedom in how I dressed, but today I had really pushed the boundaries of acceptable attire. I chose not to wear a bra under my white tank top, which was already quite revealing and I substituted my typical boring white panties for a lacy red thong, which I positioned so it was plainly visible above the waist of my black leggings.
One of my clients, Mr. Jones, must have noticed my attire because he watched me intently as I cleaned. I caught him blatantly staring at my ass more than once and I am pretty sure I saw a bulge in his pants as I left. Normally, I would be offended by this sort of behavior, but in my aroused state it only turned me on more. I found myself bending at the waist and sticking my ass out to tease him. I was sure he would be fucking his hand dreaming of me as soon as I was gone.
The day had really taken a turn when my fifth and final client of the day, Mrs. Smith asked me to help her with a special Father’s Day gift for her husband. I had expected something dull to be added to my maid duties like cleaning his man cave after a raucous party, but to my surprise, Mrs. Smith had asked me to take part in Mr. Smith’s fetish. I was to arrive to clean the next week with a full bladder and an open mind. I am not sure how I would have responded on a normal day, but in my desperately horny state, I was eager to help. So eager that when Mrs. Smith told me she was going to hold it until her husband got home, I literally could not wait until next week. I decided to stay and I was not disappointed when Mr. Smith arrived.
It turned out that Mr. Smith, although considerably older than me, was an incredibly attractive man. Years of hard work in the gym had clearly paid off. After discovering his wife desperate to pee, he issued her an intriguing challenge. She had to attempt to hold it for an hour, which he knew was impossible. For the remainder of the hour after Mrs. Smith lost control, she was to be spanked. The first ten minutes would be a hand spanking, the next ten, a flogger, then ten with a paddle; any time after that would be one cane stroke per minute.
At the twenty-minute mark, Mrs. Smith added another wrinkle to the challenge. I was to do my best to get Mr. Smith off and if he came before Mrs. Smith wet herself, he was not allowed to cum again until I returned next week. However, If I was unable to make him explode before Mrs. Smith lost control then I would have to clean their house with a full bladder wearing nothing but a pair of tight jeans every week for a month. I sucked Mr. Smith’s enormous cock like my life depended on it. The challenge ended abruptly after thirty-three minutes when simultaneously Mr. Smith sprayed his hot cum down my throat and Mrs. Smith soaked her pants, which brings me to the current dilemma.
There was a long silence after the challenge ended, which I decided to break by asking, "So how do we treat a tie?"
"Why don't you decide, Amanda?" Mr. Smith suggested.
I thought for a minute and then said, "If Mr. Smith agrees, I think we should both lose. He is not allowed to cum until I return and I will clean with a full bladder wearing only jeans for a month.”
"Sounds fair to me,” Mr. Smith said with a smile.
“I am going to take off these wet pants and take a shower,” Mrs. Smith said as she began walking towards the bedroom.
“Have you forgotten about your spanking?" Mr. Smith asked.
Mrs. Smith did not answer her husband’s question, but abruptly changed direction and walked resolutely into the kitchen. She returned with an armless wooden chair which she placed in the center of the living room. She proceeded to strip naked, fold her clothes, and lay them neatly under the chair. Meanwhile, Mr. Smith stood up and walked with the same resoluteness into their bedroom. He returned carrying a large wooden paddle, a flogger with a glass handle, and a large bottle of lube. He laid both of these implements and the lube in a line next to Mrs. Smith’s folded clothes and sat down in the chair. As soon as Mr. Smith was comfortable in the chair, Mrs. Smith lay across his lap and shortly thereafter, Mr. Smith began lovingly rubbing his wife’s ass.
I stood in front of them stunned by this clearly well-practiced ritual, which prompted a series of questions in my head: How often did Mrs. Smith go across her husband's lap? Were the roles ever reversed? Did Mr. Smith ever get a spanking from his wife? What would it feel like to be spanked by one of these incredible people? Who would spank me harder?
My daydream ended when Mr. Smith spoke, "You held it for thirty-three minutes, so this will be a twenty-seven-minute spanking. Ten minutes using my hand, followed by another ten using the flogger, and finally seven more with the paddle."
"Wait, may I use the bathroom before you start, sir?" I interjected.
He got this look on his face as if in deep contemplation, which was followed by a devious smile. He looked directly into my eyes and said, “No. you may not.” The dominant tone of his voice sent shivers down my spine. He spoke again, “Spread your legs.” I hesitated for a minute. “Now!” he barked at me and I instantly spread my legs. He stared at me as if trying to assess how desperate I was. “Wider,” he said and my legs drifted further apart. Had I moved them? It felt as if I was hypnotized. “Wider,” he said again and I felt my legs inch apart. I had been dominated before, but never this easily. Something about Mr. Smith compelled me to follow his orders.
Twenty-seven minutes was not a long time to hold a full bladder, but with my legs now spread at least double-shoulder-width, I started to worry about my ability to hold it through the spanking. I reached my hands towards my crotch to take some of the strain off my bladder muscles, but before I got that far I heard Mr. Smith's voice, “Arms behind your back.” My arms moved almost instinctively and folded themselves neatly on top of one another behind my back.
Mr. Smith stared at me for what felt like hours, but I am sure only a minute or two passed before he spoke again, apparently satisfied with my positioning. "Honey,” he said turning his attention to his naked wife laid across his lap, “there has been a change of plans. Instead of twenty-seven minutes, this spanking is going to be administered until Amanda wets herself. With her legs spread and her hands behind her back, I don’t think she will last too long, but we shall see.”
Mrs. Smith looked at me hopefully and said, "Just let it go, Amanda, I can give you some pants to wear home." Mr. Smith looked horrified by his wife’s clever loophole, but when he saw the devious smile on my face looking back at him he knew I was not going to let her off that easy.
"Absolutely not! I'm enjoying myself. Why end the fun now?" I said. The hopeful look on Mrs. Smith’s face disappeared; she knew this was not going to be a short spanking.
“Are you ready?” Mr. Smith asked his wife as he continued lovingly rubbing his wife’s ass.
“Yes, sir,” Mrs. Smith answered, but by the time she finished, Mr. Smith’s hand was already headed towards her backside. The sound of his hand impacting her ass surprised me and I jumped a bit. I felt a squirt of pee shoot into my pants, but not enough to be seen from the outside. As he raised his hand again, I could see a faint outline of his hand on his wife’s ass.
When the second spank landed I jumped again and felt another small stream of pee leak into my pants. I had expected a pause between each spank, but Mr. Smith’s hand moved in one continuous motion. I still flinched after each spank, but I was able to prevent any more leaks.
He must have landed at least thirty spanks in the first minute alone and I saw no indication that he planned on slowing down. In fact, I think the spanks were getting harder and faster. After only a few minutes, Mrs. Smith’s entire ass was a shade of pink. Luckily, the spectacle was distracting me from the pressure building between my legs.
At the ten minute mark, Mr. Smith stopped his relentless barrage of spanks and began lovingly rubbing his wife’s ass again, which was now a deep red color. Mrs. Smith took a deep breath, looked over at me, and said, “How are you doing, Amanda?”
At first, I was confused by her question. Shouldn’t I be asking her that question? My ass was not the one changing color, but then I felt it. Without the spanking to distract me, an intense surge of desperation hit me forcing me to clench my teeth to stay in control. I immediately remembered why Mrs. Smith was so concerned with how I was doing.
“I don’t think our maid is going to last much longer,” Mrs. Smith said confidently still lying across her husband’s lap. I wanted so badly to prove her wrong.
“I think you’re right. She is not as well practiced as you are,” Mr. Smith said shifting his hand from his wife’s ass to between her legs. Mrs. Smith gasped as her husband’s fingers slid inside her. While still fingering his wife’s cunt, he looked over at me and started talking, “My naughty wife loves to be spanked, if you couldn’t tell by how ready she was for my fingers. I love edging her in the middle of a spanking. She gets so horny, she would do anything for an orgasm.” Mrs. Smith’s moans were getting louder by the second. After a particularly loud one, Mr. Smith said, “Watch what happens if I do this.” Mr. Smith repositioned his hand and I started hearing a slurping sound coming from between Mrs. Smith’s legs.