Unspoken Pleasure (erotica)

Shaking her head and more confused than ever, she reached for her skirt and blouse and put them on, without any underwear. She felt so naughty standing there looking at herself in the mirror, knowing her pussy was bare underneath the skirt and seeing the faint outline of her semi-erect nipples poking through the blouse. 'What would Stacey think if she knew?' Mrs. Clark asked herself. Slipping on a pair of matching heels, Mrs. Clark hurried out of the bedroom, not wanting to take too long and risk upsetting Greg any more.

Once downstairs again, she peered nervously around the corner and saw that Greg and Stacey were both seated at the kitchen table, eating bowls of cereal and having an amiable conversation. Taking a deep breath, she walked into the kitchen, kissed her daughter on the head and then quickly headed to the stove; ostensibly to offer to make breakfast for anyone, should they wish it. In reality she really just wanted to hide the fact that her nipples were prominently poking through her blouse and her face was red with embarrassment. When Stacey and Greg indicated that they did not want anything made for breakfast, she busied herself making some eggs and toast for herself.

While Mrs. Clark was working at the stove, Stacey informed her, "I'm heading to the beach today with Carol and Joan. I'll probably be back around 5pm." Dropping her dirty bowl into the sink, Stacey gave her mom a kiss on the cheek, grabbed her day bag and towel, and rushed out the door.

Once Greg heard the car pull out of the driveway, he cleared his throat and then began giving Mrs. Clark directions. "All right, Anne, turn around and walk over here," pointing to the floor in the middle of the kitchen. On wobbly legs, Anne shuffled over to the spot indicated, head bent low, unable to make eye contact.

"Now remove all of your clothing, Anne," Greg ordered. Blushing furiously, Anne reached up, and, with horribly shaking hands, began to undo the buttons of her blouse. When the last one was undone, she hesitated for a moment, but with a sigh of resignation, her shoulders slumping in defeat, she shrugged the blouse off of her shoulders, and let if fall to the floor. Her naked breasts, with nipples now as hard as rocks, stood prominently on display for her tormentor to see. As humiliated as she was, the weird, twisting feeling in the pit of her stomach wouldn't go away. It just seemed to push her on, force her to comply with his demands. Reaching behind her, she unzipped her skirt, and again, with the slightest of hesitations, she began to shimmy the skirt down her hips. When the newly shaven lips of her vagina came into view, Anne blushed an even deeper color red, which spread down her neck onto the tops of her shoulders. Once the skirt was past her thighs, Anne let gravity do the rest and let it fall about her feet. Stepping to the side with one foot, she used the other to lightly kick the skirt away from her.

Here she stood, completely naked, before her 18 year old tormentor, save for a pair of fuck-me heels. With great effort, Anne fought the urge to cover her newly shaved pussy, but instead kept her hands firmly at her side. Sensing Greg's eyes upon her, she could not bear to look up and meet them. She could only bite her lip and hover in that emotional space somewhere between excitement and crying, as she nervously awaited his next move.

She heard his chair scrape across the floor, as he pushed it back and rose to his feet. The weird twisting feeling in her stomach began to increase as she waited nervously for his next move. Mrs. Clark couldn't bear to raise her head and look at Greg, so she resigned herself to looking at his feet and following their movement.

Had she taken a moment to look up, she would have seen the enormous, shit-eating grin plastered across Greg's face. He looked like a kid in a candy store who had just been told he could have anything he wanted, and as much of it as he wanted. His eyes took in every inch of her body, as he slowly circled about her, nodding his head appreciatively at what he saw. He hadn't thought it possible, but for an 'older' woman, Mrs. Clark had an amazing body. Her breasts were still firm and supple, with no evidence of sagging at all. The nipples, when erect, stood out prominently from her chest, begging for attention. Moving down, she had a nice tight stomach and petite waist which flared beautifully at the hips, accentuating her gorgeously shaped ass. Her legs were lean and slender, and were a perfect end to a perfect body. Aside from being a few inches taller than Stacey, she was a mirror image of her.

Leaving her standing there, Greg walked over to the counter and, rifling through one of the drawers, pulled out the implement he was looking for. He had seen Mrs. Clark use this wooden spoon often, as she cooked the meals, but had never thought about using it in the manner he had planned. Smacking it several times into the palm of his hand, Greg marveled at the sound it made and the stinging sensation it left behind.

With nervous anticipation, Greg stepped in front of Mrs. Clark and said, "Now, Anne, for wearing inappropriate clothing this morning, you are going to be punished."

"But I... You never..." she began to stammer.

"Enough with your blubbering!" Greg shouted, cutting Mrs. Clark off mid-sentence. "You were already told not to wear that clothing, and yet you chose to willfully disobey me. You obviously need to be taught a lesson, and I intend to teach that lesson now," he said with emphasis.

Mrs. Clark wanted to argue with him, wanted to fight what was happening to her, but that sick feeling in her stomach just kept getting stronger, and she felt her willpower quickly draining away. She could only stand there, head lowered, shaking like a leaf, waiting for his next command. As scared and nervous as she was, she also was feeling excitement building from somewhere deep within her.

"Now, Anne, your punishment is not going to be pleasant. I'm not going to lie to you; it's going to hurt like hell, but I need to make sure that you are going to understand how serious it was for you to disobey me," Greg reasoned. "Please..." she paused as she thought about how best to address Greg. Remembering the stories, and hoping that if she was really respectful, she might be able to weasel out of whatever punishment he had planned for her, she continued, "Sir, I won't disobey you again. I promise. Pleeaaassee," she whined, sneaking a glance at his face. What she saw frightened her. Greg seemed to have grown in size, since the last time she looked, and he now seemed to tower over her, with a steely look of resolve set firmly on his face.

'I'm sorry, Anne, but it's the only way you are going to learn your lesson," Greg said softly shaking his head. He couldn't believe how easy this was going for him. He had expected more resistance, but she was like putty in his hands. "Now cup your tits for me, Anne, and offer them to me," Greg ordered.