Kink, an origin story, Part 2 By Beta Man *"* So shall we begin where we left off last time?", asked my analyst "Sure. So the last thing Joanne had said to me was that she planned to dominate, humiliate and control me, which was certainly a surprise". *"*Why?" "Well, although she was in the year above, she seemed so much more mature, a self possessed young woman. Whereas, despite my sporting prowess, off the sports field I felt like an eternally frustrated, awkward, tongue-tied teenage boy. It kind of surprised me that she would even think about me. Let alone in such an aggressive way. Obviously years later I developed a number of theories, but right there, right then, I was very confused, yet shockingly aroused". "So not a ladies man?" "I attended an all boys, religious school. Each Careers day the headline was, church needs new recruits, and it felt at times like we were abstaining in preparation. Women were generally portrayed as madonnas or whores" *"So what happened next with Joanne?".* "Well for a few weeks nothing. There was no means of communicating like today, we just had the one landline phone, and school. But she was in the relatively exclusive all-girl's school, and was starting her final year after the approaching summer holidays. Besides I was not sure what she intended to do but it sounded like I might be best advised to avoid it". "What do you think she intended to do?" "Well when I thought about it, which was pretty much every waking hour, and every night when I went to bed. I really didn't know. But it's fair to say I was reaching an Olympic standard for tugging myself off to the memory of her standing over me after throwing me over her hip". "But not her mum?" "Can I take the 5th with my own Analyst? Mainly it was Joanne, sometimes it was both, occasionally it was just her mum, but that felt wrong. Maybe wronger? She was a married woman, as well as not really age appropriate, though in my imagination feeling wrong just seemed to add even more to her appeal. "Anyway summer holidays are passing and I get a call from Sean McCauley asking if I want to meet for a tennis match, which was one of the few sports easy to organise out of term time. I like Sean, we don't hang out as much as we used to, but that's no bad thing considering the crushes I have on his sister and mum. I suggest the local park, but of course he's a member of the local tennis club so we agree to meet there after lunch the next day. "Of course when I arrive I feel suitably under-dressed in my mix and match kit, as everybody else appears to be adhering to a pristine white dress code. Sean is nice enough not to mention my attire and we head out to the courts. "There are eight grass courts and two hard courts at the club and all are in use so we have to wait until a court comes free. It's only then that I find out that the tennis club is where the McCauley's hang out over summer. His parents are playing each other on one court, Neil is playing a friend on another, and Joanne is playing a Doubles match with friends on another. "'Who do you want to watch while we wait?', Sean asks, 'dad's the funniest, but don't let him see you laughing'. "We stroll over to watch their match, though we could hear it from a distance, as Mr McCauley seemed to be suffering from Tourette's syndrome. It was funny to watch as Mrs McCauley, as seemed to be her speciality, was handing him his 'ass on a plate'. She seemed to stand stock still, spraying the ball from one side of the court to the other and watching her husband chase lost cause after lost cause, till he would explode with fury at the ball, or his racquet, or the grass, or the sun. Though never himself, nor noticeably his wife, both of whom were more responsible for his plight. "I felt a little uneasy watching his humiliation, but it allowed me to catch sly looks at Mrs McCauley. Needless to say she looked unbelievably sexy in a short dress that accentuated just how fabulous her legs were, long and toned. I'd never seen them before and was transfixed. Truth be told I didn't realise at the time but one of the sexiest things for me, is watching somebody perform tasks expertly, and that was what she was doing on that court. Her serve had a balletic grace, though you could see that she was holding something back just to make a match of it. It was rare that she needed to run, but when she did it looked effortless. I could have watched all day, but then with one expletive laced outburst it was over. Mrs McCauley ran to the net and gracefully leapt over. I'm not sure why, but it seemed the sexiest thing I'd ever seen. She hugged her husband and led him off the court. "'What was the score dad?', asked Sean mischievously. His dad scowled, and his mum said they weren't keeping score, and gave Sean a conspiratorial smile. "'William', she said, smiling at me as she passed. "'Mrs McCauley', I replied in a high pitched voice that I wasn't expecting. "Sean and I then warmed up and started to play. I used to be good at the game but it had fallen by the wayside as I had chosen to focus more on cricket in the summer. "Sean had clearly been having lessons and his game now seemed to possess a lot more technique than it used to, so what followed was a close fought match between my natural ability and Sean's tennis lessons. "I enjoyed it immensely, I won the first set before Sean took the second in front of his parents who had come out to watch a little, and cheer good naturedly. In the end though my competitive spirit gave me the edge and I won the final set 6-4. "We sat at the side of the court tired at the end. "'Have you been having lessons?' I asked. "''Yeah, dad's been giving me pointers', Sean laughed. Neither of us had noticed that Joanne had come on court with a friend until she spoke up. "'Fancy a quick set? We didn't really get much of a workout against Tilly and Charlotte'. "Sean was looking at Joanne's friend and was clearly keen. I could see why, she was long legged, and blonde with a sunny disposition and a ponytail, but then again so were most of the women there. "'Mixed or battle of the sexes?', asked Joanne. "'I'll partner Jess', said Sean smiling. Joanne looked at me and smiled too, but hers had a hint of mischief about it. "'We should talk tactics', I suggested, once more feeling my voice crack. "I''m not sure I should talk to you at all, after you chose to ogle my mother rather than come watch me and my friends play. And me in my best short skirt too', she teased. I was speechless. "'What I want from you is a compliment after each point, or I'm going to take you and bend you over that net and spank you silly'. I felt like I would never talk again. "'The only other tactic is try not to fixate on my peachy behind when you are serving. And lose the erection, it's not going to help'. She then patted me on my bottom with her racquet and ran towards the net. "I have never in my life felt so ill prepared to compete. I tried thinking of anything to help lose my erection, but now I could only see Joanne bending at the net and if anything it intensified. Needless to say Sean aced his serve. Joanne came to me, 'compliment please'. "'You look lovely', I blurted, caught off guard, she smiled and again patted my bottom with her racquet. "She then smashed her return down the line past Jess. Again she asked, 'compliment?' '"Great shot', she looked disappointed, but after my unforced error on the next point I told her that her legs looked lovely. "This was the pattern of that game Joanne won her returns, 'nice lob', 'Good shot', 'nice work', but then I messed up my returns, 'your hair looks nice', 'you still look lovely', 'your arms look lovely'. Joanne was looking bemused . Then when I unexpectedly played a winning return, Joanne won the next point to take the game. We changed ends. "'Shall I serve?', I asked. "'If your returns are that bad when I'm bent in front of you, what's your serve going to be like? I should serve first. This time I only want compliments about my ass and don't make any excuses I know you were staring at it, and don't say lovely or I will strip you, here and now and then throw you over my hip like in your fantasy". "I blushed. "'I knew it', she laughed, and turned to serve. "Her serving was excellent, two aces, one that was pretty unreturnable and one return that sat up to be smashed, meant we won the game to love, but she was more concerned with my compliments which I had trouble with: "I like your toned bottom', 'your bottom is really, really, appropriately muscled', and 'You must be proud of your curvy bottom", all provided her with amusement, but then I hit an unexpected home run with the final "your bottom is so much nicer than your mum's", which surprised both of us, for very different reasons, though it was nice to hear her laugh. "We were two games up, but it was the most stressful match I'd ever played. Joanne was still smiling from that last 'compliment' and didn't specify what I was to remark upon this time. I was at the net and a spectator in a rally till the opportunity arose for me to intercept with a volley. Joanne cheered, and I turned to go to the baseline, as we passed I said 'I like that you are clever even though it sometimes makes me feel dumb, but that's my fault not yours'. "It was a couple of seconds before I realised that she hadn't patted my bottom with her racquet. I stood on the baseline desperately trying not to be distracted by how perky her bottom was as it bounced in anticipation. I managed a return and Joanne's interception volley won the point, as we crossed I jokingly said 'I want to defeat, dominate and control you', and I then patted her with my tennis racquet. As soon as I did it I knew I was in trouble. "'Then let's make that happen', she said. 'Hang around after we've finished here'. It was clearly an order rather than a request and I was left wondering how it had gone so wrong, so quick. "To make matters worse a couple arrived to use the court, so this would have to be the final game. I tried to drag the match out, and lost the next point, but she wanted it to end and won the next, I lost the one after that, but it was futile as she decisively returned the next, winning the point and the game. "'We should have a re-match', said Sean, who clearly wanted to see more of Jess. "'I'm going to take William home, do you want to take Jess back to ours', asked Joanne. "Sean's smile could not have been wider. He thanked me for the game, before telling Joanne she was a bad influence on me, 'He was like a young Bjorn Borg, but his game went to pieces once you started bossing him around.' Joanne raised an eyebrow and smiled at me. I almost certainly blushed. "Once alone she turned to me, 'Let's find somewhere quiet where you can defeat, dominate and control me?' "We strolled to her car, where she opened the passenger door for me and made a mock curtsy. I bowed in return and got in the car. It was only when sat beside her watching her drive, in what felt like a momentary ceasefire, that I had an opportunity to take in just how stunning she looked. She seemed to glow. She noticed me looking at her legs. "'Pay me a compliment' she said. "'I thought when you were focused on playing tennis, and not teasing me, you were really good....for a girl'. "'Oh so close, there I was thinking you were going to praise my legs, but no, you chose a better compliment, but then...' "'For a woman?' "'Shhhhh, we're nearly there'. "Within minutes we pulled up by a secluded wood, and a few minutes later she was stood in front of me in a small clearing. She stood in an attacking pose, her short tennis skirt not only made her legs look even longer, but also a picture of idealised femininity. She exuded an air of confidence. "'Well I'm ready let's see what you've got then, shall we start?', she asked. "'I'm not going to fight you', I replied. "'Then you're going to get an ass whupping, figuratively and then literally', she smiled once more. "'I'm not going to fight a girl, I'll take whatever punishment you want to give, but I'm not fighting you'. "'Mmm,...you act like you're being chivalrous but you're really being cowardly. You're not fighting a girl you're fighting a woman, and one that you must suspect, judging by that twitching in your shorts, might beat you, and you are scared and looking for a way out. It's why you play team sports rather than any sport where you can be directly beaten, where you are completely responsible. You were born with a natural gift for some sports, but If you really want to test yourself you need to play everybody. If you really want to pay me a compliment treat me as an equal, give everything you've got, so if I did beat you there would be no excuses'. "I stared at her for a long minute. I smiled. 'There you go making me feel dumb again'. "'You're just young, dumb and full of come, let's see what we can do about that', she smiled. "'Okay, I will fight you as an equal, but you should know, outside of the boxing ring, I've never had to fight, I think people just have respect for me, so I'm not sure how to fight, but you have to accept I may hurt you. Should we agree on when it is over' ""Well just for the record, you can treat me as an equal, but we're not actually equal. I am going to beat the living crap out of you and you are going to feel embarassed, then humiliated and then finally accepting. Everytime you want to submit, you have to take an item of clothing off and pay me a compliment. When you eventually decide to concede, I'm going to take you over to that tree and spank you with this riding crop', she smiled as she threw the crop between us.'Obviously, it goes without saying that the reverse also applies, should you find yourself dominating me'. "As usual around Joanne I found myself both scared and aroused. We crouched facing each other. I thought I might take her down with a rugby tackle. Wrapping my arms around her long legs and applying my shoulder hard, she fell to the ground. I immediately felt bad, and reached down to help her up. She took my hand and pulled me down and over. I landed on my back, only to discover that she was now stood over me, still holding my hand tight, keeping my arm straight, and controlling me as she had done in the self defence class. Pushing my shoulder firmly with her foot, and twisting my wrist she taunted me further, 'I know you remember this from last time, and you must know how hard it is to get out, so you have to decide if you want to exert and waste a lot of enery, or if you wish to submit now'. "I wriggled for a short while, but each movement increased my pain so I submitted. 'Take your t-shirt off', she ordered, 'and pay me a compliment'. "Lying on the floor looking up at her long leg pinning me down, I wrestled my t-shirt off, and then told her that 'I think your legs sensational, but you have a lot to learn about sporting behaviour'. "She laughed and reached down to help me up. Once stood opposite again, but topless, I felt self-conscious, and she pounced on my uncertainty, this time pushing me straight back before placing her right leg behind my left leg and sweeping my left leg off the floor to throw me down. She dropped down and used her upper body over my chest pinning both of my arms to my sides and effectively holding me down. Of course I'm intoxicated by the intimacy of her body, and am as expected at 'full salute', but having shown her control over me, she painfully tweaked my nipple and stood up. "As soon as I am up, she breaks my balance, pulling me straight forward, then sliding into a supine posture between my legs, and with the sole of one foot placed against my stomach she throws my body over her own head on to the floor behind. It hurts, though not as much as the next time she does it, nor as much as the third time that she does it, nor the fourth, nor the fifth. Each fall I take is heavier than the previous, as the hit weakens and slows my body. As she pulls me in the sixth time, I shout my submission, she releases me and I drop to my knees. "'Take off your trainers', she says, and I obey. "'You smell like summer, only better', I say, and then snatch her up in as strong a bear hug as I could muster, pinning her arms to her side. I'm surprised she doesn't panic. Instead she gently wriggles against my body. "'Well Somebody's enjoying himself', she whispers into my ear, referencing my obvious erection. I can feel myself blush but know I must stay focused. 'But do you prefer hurting or being hurt?', she whispers, before biting my ear and kneeling me in my balls. I fall to the ground releasing her in the process. She grasps one of my wrists with both her hands, and with both thighs scissoring the upper part of my trapped arm, she pulls the arm and I scream submission. Slowly I take off my socks and tell her she's quite something. "'Quite something? Are you trying to pass that as a compliment? We'll see about that', she says indignantly. Before I can correct myself, she pulls me upright pushes me back and then uses her right leg to sweep my weight bearing leg from beneath me dumping me unceremoniously on my ass. She grasps my wrists again with both her hands, and again scissors my trapped arm with her thighs, she pulls even harder on my arm than last time. I frantically tap my submission. "'Take off your shorts, and let's have a proper compliment this time', she says with a threat in her voice. I kneel before her, but stay still. "'You know the forfeit, take your shorts off. Well ? Why am I waiting?'. "'I've just remembered I'm not wearing underwear', I mumble. "'Not my concern, maybe next time you'll follow the tennis club dress code', she said, trying to stifle a smile. I stripped and stood before her naked, and though feeling humiliated, I was still nursing a raging erection. "'Well that's the first sincere compliment you've paid me all day', she said, now openly laughing. 'Now let's give you a finale you'll remember'. "And with that she lowered her shoulder and threw me over on to my back, she performed the same throw four more times before standing in a victory pose over me. "'Concede?', she asked. "'Completely'. I replied. "She then marched me over to the tree and instructed me to hug it. I obeyed without question, even though the bark rubbed rough against me. My fingers could lace on the other side, and I was told that they must stay laced while she administered the spanking or she would start again. I braced myself, but first she had something to say. "I''m going to give you forty strokes, twenty forearm, twenty backhand, this will serve two purposes, firstly it will improve my technique, and secondly next time we play, this memory will come flooding back and it will ruin your game', once more she laughed, before the first stinging backhand hit home. What followed was a clear demonstration of both her crisp tennis strokes and her control over me. I screamed occasionally, but didn't cry, nor unlace my fingers. But I did find myself coming on order with the final stroke. "A final point, after I got dressed, we walked back to the car. I'm in terrible pain hobbling behind Joanne who is positively bouncing along and looking radiant, her skirt swishing as she walks. When I notice there's a car parked next to Joanne's. There are two people inside and so I tried to walk normally, though I'm looking away. As I reach the passenger door, I hear both doors open. "'William', says the familiar voice of Mrs McCauley. "I turn to see Joanne handing her mum the riding crop, and her father heading towards the clearance". "Is that all true?", asked my analyst. "It's how I remember it", I reply, and as George Constanza said, 'it's not a lie if you believe it's true'".