The Panty Raid — Part 2

 (For Part 1, see previous day’s post)
Greta froze, apparently speechless, and I was able to take in the woman Greta had called Aunt Trudy. It must be her apartment, I figured. She stood there, hands on hips, glaring at Greta. A tall, rangy woman, she must have been in her mid thirties. With her light hair and fair skin she resembled Greta in a way. Her build was similar too. She had the broad shoulders of a body builder and powerful looking legs. She wore workout shorts and a tank top. An athletic coach of some type?
“I—I didn’t know you would be back,” Greta sputtered.
“No, you did not, I see.” The woman’s eyes narrowed and she tapped her foot.
It was the same type of accent, that vaguely Northern European sound.
“And who is your friend?” she demanded.
As she spoke I eased myself up off Greta’s lap. I didn’t know what to say. It was embarrassing to say the least. My cock was still hard and it bobbed up and down as I started to pick up my clothes.
“Stop!” she said, pointing at me. I don’t know why, but I did. I stood there naked, my hands absently rubbing my inflamed ass.
“We were playing a game, Aunt Trudy. Just a game,” said Greta.
“So. While I am gone you play spanky games with a male friend?”
Greta didn’t say anything.
“Get up,” said the woman, gesturing with her hands. “You want to play at spankings? Perhaps it is you who needs a spanking, Greta.”
Greta put her hands together, imploring this older woman who had taken complete control of the situation. But “Aunt Trudy” forged ahead. She sat down on the bench and grabbed Greta by the arm, pulling her over to her right. “Take off your skirt,” she ordered. She put her hands on her hips and waited for Greta to comply.
Hesitantly Greta unzipped the tiny miniskirt and let it drop, and I was treated to the sight of Greta’s magnificent buttocks clad in tiny French cut panties. Trudy immediately toppled Greta over her lap, bottoms up, Greta’s fulsome fanny pointed at the ceiling. She slid the tiny panties down to Greta’s knees. The perky rounded cheeks of her bare bottom were quite a sight.
“Oh, no, please Aunt Trudy,” wailed Greta.
Aunt Trudy was unmoved. “You are going to get a good spanking, Greta, and your friend can watch. This will teach you to play games when I am away.”
With that Aunt Trudy raised her arm to shoulder height and brought her palm down with a loud crack that resounded in the confines of the bedroom. She smacked Greta’s bottom dead center, then added smacks to her left and right cheeks in rapid succession.
“Owww!” yelped Greta, kicking her legs up behind her.
The determined woman proceeded to apply a stinging barrage of spanks, spacing them out all over Greta’s wobbling fanny. She struck in a seemingly random pattern, spanking left, then right, up high, down low. It didn’t matter. Greta’s bottom quickly took on a reddish hue. I was mesmerized. My eyes were probably as wide as saucers as I gaped at the lurid spectacle of Greta’s round fleshy bottom cheeks being spanked to a bright scarlet. Greta wriggled and bobbed, flutter kicked and flailed her arms. All to no avail. Aunt Trudy was a big powerful woman, taller than Greta, and she held the girl over her lap with a left arm that encircled Greta’s waist like a steel band.
“Ohh! Ow! Ow! Please Aunt Trudy!” Greta was beginning to sound frantic. It must be stinging like crazy I figured. These were not love pats but hard whacks doled out at full strength.  I now know what they mean by “sound” spanking. The spanks echoed off the walls like firecrackers But as it progressed I noticed that Greta began to hump her mons veneris against Aunt Trudy’s knee. Then she started moaning. Trudy slowed down and began rubbing each spank in. Greta writhed and made little guttural noises. They were moans of pleasure. Then Trudy’s hand began to stray between Greta’s labial lips. Greta stiffened as Trudy’s fingers slid in and out of Greta’s sex, manipulating her.
Now it was ‘yes, oh, yes, Trudy my love’ that Greta uttered.
Aunt Trudy looked at me and smiled. “You see? The little slut likes to have her hiney spanked.” Greta just moaned, lost in a lust fog.
It was then I realized that something else was going on here. Even my naïve, immature college boy self finally understood Greta and “Aunt Trudy,” whoever she was, were lovers. But I was to get an even bigger shock.
Aunt Trudy stopped and stood Greta up. The she stood up and started to strip off her own clothes. Trudy hastily took off her top and slipped her shorts off. Now clad in just a bra and thong panties, she was an Amazon goddess. She addressed the two of us.
“Now you have both had a spanking, like naughty children, but before your games are finished, you must both be punished for using my house without my permission.”
What now? I thought.
She sauntered over to the closet door and opened it. Neatly arranged on hooks on the back of the door was an assortment of paddles, straps, multi-thonged whips and slender canes. She fingered a few of her toys and finally selected a strap that was attached to a handle.
She turned back to us and said, “Over the bed, both of you. Twelve strokes of the strap.”
Greta obeyed immediately, prostrating herself over the end of the bed, her bright red rump offered up for more. I don’t know why, but I reluctantly followed suit. I think by then I was in this space mentally where I was an obedient object, obeying any and all commands issued by any beautiful and dominant female.
We both got a dozen solid licks with the strap that stung like bees. She alternated, one for Greta, one for me. But then when all twelve strokes had been doled out, she had us rise and stand facing her. To my slack-jawed amazement she stripped off her bra and panties. I was in awe. Then she grabbed us both by an arm and together the three of us tumbled into bed.
The two of them attacked like they intended to devour me. I lay on my back while Aunt Trudy planted kisses all over my chest. Greta took me in her mouth reviving my prick, getting it ready. When I was ready, Trudy straddled me and lowered herself onto it. She pumped me until I climaxed so intensely I saw stars. There was a brief respite after that, but then Trudy had Greta renew me again. When I was ready it was Greta’s turn. She knelt on the edge of the bed, her spank-reddened ass cocked up in the air. I stood behind her and slid into her cleft, all the way to the hilt. This time I was able to go slower and make it last. I stroked in and out of her deliciously tight sheath for what seemed like forever. I think Greta came more than once before I did.
After that, and for the rest of the night, I was instructed in the fine art of cunnilingus by Aunt Trudy. I lay on my stomach, my head between her legs while she instructed me. Part of the instruction included not so gentle taps from a riding switch poised over my ass. Greta got her share too, and by the end of the night I thought my tongue and jaw would cramp up. In the early morning hours I finally took my leave, exhausted, my ass sore, but otherwise feeling like a million bucks.
Later, I came to understand that the whole thing had been a setup. Greta wanted to be “caught,” and knew exactly what would happen when her lesbian lover walked in on her with a boy. As I thought about it, I questioned why I had thought that surprising. Greta said from the beginning she liked spanking, and had mentioned receiving them too. Another surprise was Aunt Trudy. In reality she was Gertrude Klassen, Phd, a professor of languages in the School of Arts and Sciences. I sometimes saw her, walking across the quadrangle. We did not acknowledge each other by mutual agreement. She and Greta had met at the university gym and had hit it off. I turned out to be a bonus. I was sometimes invited to come to Professor Klassen’s apartment, but I had to understand who was in charge. She loved role play, and her favorite was “Aunt Trudy and her naughty niece and nephew,” so a summons from Greta for a night of fun and games also meant not sitting comfortably for a while.

But I didn’t care. Here I was, nineteen years old and getting my ashes hauled by two beautiful women. It doesn’t get any better than this.


3 responses to “The Panty Raid — Part 2

  1. Exceptional thanks. Any more?


  2. I'm thinking about adding on to this one for the book release.


  3. Princess Anastasia

    Yes, please do. Naughty girls shouldn't be the only ones who have to pay the price for fun. Bad, bad boys must be warmly encouraged to play nicely, too.


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