How it all began -

Well, I was living in London's Barbican which, as well as being a residential apartment complex has theatres, a magnificent concert hall, cinemas, restaurants and one of London's best public libraries. It is on the fringe of the City of London square mile (in other words the city's Central Business District). I was recently divorced - my wife and I had drifted apart. We are still friends, but living together wasn't working. The divorce was as amicable as these things can be - we were both professionals with reasonable earnings power, and had never had children; so the additional trauma of sorting out custody did not arise. I chose to live in London - hence the Barbican apartment - while my ex-wife continued to live in the country, although we had sold our four to five bedroom house to enable us both to set up in separate properties.

I had chosen a two bedroomed flat in the Barbican complex. For those of you not familiar with it, it is not the most beautiful of structures, but works really well as a place to live. It is almost crime-free - a real bonus these days - and there is a host of local eateries - and is ten minutes walk from my office.

After about a year of Barbican living, I was finding it a bit of a struggle to pay my mortgage and decided that maybe I could supplement this by taking in paying guests for cash. I decided that the Barbican's theatres and concert hall might well provide a source of potential customers, and checking out the future programme wrote to all the touring companies and orchestras who were due to perform in the next six months. I thought the prospect of being able to stagger a few yards to one's bed after a draining performance on the theatre or concert stage might appeal to some of the performers.

To cut a long story short, it did appeal. My rates were way below those of hotels, which are actually few and far between in the area, and I was managing to fill the spare room for probably five or six nights a month, sometimes more. What's more the artistes who came to stay were a fascinating bunch of people. I had very few guests who I did not take to - and the occasional lady guest who I seemed to hit it off with exceptionally well which, in some delightful cases, had actually made the use of the spare room redundant. As I was not looking for any kind of long term relationship this suited me extremely well.

One of the ladies I had hit it off with was second violin with a well-known northern orchestra. Lorna, for this was her name, originally stayed four nights with me one autumn, and we ended up in bed together on the final night. She was delightful. She was in her mid 30s, nice slim figure, dark hair, small breasts. I didn't get much sleep that night. I hadn't had sex for about six weeks, and I don't think she had for even longer. We both made up for lost time. Anyway, when it came for her to leave, we parted sadly, but we had both noted that her orchestra would be back again in December for a series of Christmas concerts and she arranged to come and stay for six nights this time - as my guest. As she left she asked me what, at the time, seemed to be a strange question. It was "Are you into spanking?". My immediate reaction was to respond "No, why do you ask?" "Oh, no reason" she said smiling sweetly kissing me on the lips passionately as I saw her into her taxi to Kings Cross.

When I got back to my flat, I pondered the question deeply. In truth I had always had an interest in spanking - ever since I was a little boy. I had almost certainly totally suppressed the interest as an adult and it had almost, but not quite, disappeared from my psyche. It was only thinking about Lorna's question that brought it back, accompanied by a tingling in the loins. This worried me a little as spanking seemed to smack (pardon the expression!) of perversion and I didn't consider myself a pervert.

Lorna and I kept in touch by phone - and then by e-mail after I had acquired a home computer and had connected it to the internet. Eventually I plucked up the courage to ask her - by e-mail - about her spanking comment. Her response was that sometimes she found spanking a turn-on and that if I was even slightly interested she could point me to a couple of newsgroups with spanking content. I should read some of the stories on these and then let her know what my reaction was.

Needless to say, I found a lot of the stories extremely arousing. Somehow the thought of having a bare female bottom exposed over my knee and being subjected to a good pinkening by my hand had my penis up and hard in no time at all.

With some embarrassment I reported this back to Lorna who approved. By this time it was late November, only two weeks away from her next visit. She confessed that she liked the idea of being spanked by me, and of being spanked particularly hard if she'd made a mistake during a concert. It all went back to her music teacher when she was a teenager. He probably should have been locked up as a child abuser, but Lorna still wouldn't hear anything against him. He had obviously made quite an impact on her. Apparently it had all started with a couple of very light spankings on her fully clothed bottom. She was fifteen at the time - an impressionable age - and probably had a crush on the teacher who was a violinist with another major orchestra. One thing had led to another, and on her sixteenth birthday he'd lifted her apparently very short skirt, pulled her panties down, and spanked her until she'd cried buckets over a pathetic attempt at a Grade 7 set piece. He'd then hugged her, wiping her tears away - and took her virginity on the sofa in his room.

From then on she was spanked - and fucked - virtually every music lesson, until one day, when she arrived early for a lesson she saw, through the window, that he had another girl she knew bare bottomed across his knee getting the same treatment. She rushed off sobbing and organised a new teacher. This time a matronly lady who took her through Grade 8 at which she achieved a distinction. She then studied at the world famous Chetham's School of Music in Manchester and was one of the few graduates to get straight into an orchestra where she'd been playing ever since. She did say she'd had a number of relationships since then, but somehow they never quite came up to the excitement of her initial sexual experiences until she'd been seduced at an after-concert party by a visiting conductor from London. She'd gone back to his room and, in a slightly drunken state, had succumbed to his using his baton on her bare bottom. The subsequent sex was the best she'd had for some years, but never repeated. The conductor, she found out later, was renowned for his one night stands with comely members of the orchestras for which he was visiting conductor. The next day he'd hardly acknowledged her existence.

I have to admit that some of the images expressed in her story I found to be a huge turn-on and could hardly wait for her arrival. Anyway, the day came - a Sunday - and I met her off the train at Kings Cross. In the taxi back to the flat I told her that her imagery had turned me on to such an extent that I was going to put her across my knee the moment I had her across the threshold. She leant over and gave me a passionate kiss in the back of the cab, and her glorious long violinist's fingers played with my cock through my trousers until I almost came and had to push her hand away. "There'll be plenty of time for that when we get to my flat". "But I remember you really liked me playing with your cock last time we met" she said. Well that was perfectly true. Have you ever watched a lady violinist playing one of those pieces where the bow is moved rapidly in multiple short strokes up and down, the bow held between thumb and forefinger and the palm half open. Well she'd played with cock like that. Whoo. I could hardly wait for her to do that again.

The taxi arrived at the Barbican and I took her into the block through the fireman's entrance on street level, up to the third floor and then to my flat. True to my word, I hardly had her through the door before I had my hand up her skirt and her panties round her ankles. I gave her a long, long kiss and hauled her over my knee as I sat down on my settee. I didn't spank her hard, but I did spank her long, interspersed with massage of her clitoris. I think it took her about four minutes to come the first time, and I lost count after about half an hour by which time her bottom was bright scarlet and she was making continuous little moaning noises. I was as hard as a rock. She rolled off my knee and undid my trousers and had my cock in her mouth almost in a single movement. She licked me up and down and then sucked on my balls while doing that brilliant violinists movement of her hand rapidly up and down my cock. I had to stop her again as I didn't want to come yet and stood up. She carried on massaging my balls as I did so. I let my trousers fall to the floor and stepped out of them and as we moved to the bedroom disrobed from my shirt, hopped to the bed pulling off my socks and collapsed naked on it, pulling her down beside me. I unzipped her skirt and unbuttoned her top and slid both off. She wasn't wearing a bra.

Another delightful thing I'd learned about Lorna on our last meeting was that I could make her come just playing with her nipples - and I did - several times playing just with her nnipples and sometimes with one hand on her nipples and the other on her ever moist clit. All good things have to come to an end, so eventually I grabbed a condom, eased it on and entered her fully. I pushed her back with her legs up and wide apart so I could go in deep and she came three more times in rapid succession, and I matched her on the third.

We lay in each other's arms. Lorna drifted off to sleep for half an hour or so, and then we showered together. The shower in my flat is over the bathtub - but it's a very big bath, and a very powerful shower. Lorna took the showerhead off its stand and played it directly on my cock, the hot water spray on a massage setting being very stimulating indeed. She delighted as my cock rose to become fully erect again, knelt down and took it in her mouth. I played with her breasts and nipples and she came again, but this time so did I. She sensed I was coming and did the final stimulation with those glorious fingers of hers letting the seminal fluid pulse over her breasts and down her body. She rubbed it into her nipples groaning. I think she came yet again.

We finished washing - somewhat less passionately now. I cooked her some dinner - it was about 8 pm, finished a bottle of wine and went to bed early. We were still both pretty spent, so went off to sleep in each other's arms.

I slept well - I awoke at about 6.30 the next morning with Lorna's right leg laid across my body. She was still asleep. I gently ran my fingers up the inside of her leg, trying not to wake her, but interested to see if very light stimulation would have an effect on her subconscious. My fingers played with her pussy, very very gently. She started stirring, still asleep I think. Her hips moved up and down as I continued the stimulation. I think she woke up and came almost simultaneously. "What a way to be woken up" she said smiling as she cuddled up tight.

"Will you do me a favour?" she said. "Depends what it is" I replied. "I want you to spank me very hard" she said. "I want to remember last night, and this morning, all through my rehearsals today and a sore bottom on a hard seat will do that well. They won't be able to wipe the smile off my face all day".

I wasn't sure about spanking her hard, but she was insistent, and also got me to use something other than my hand. She searched around for something appropriate and came up with an implement I wouldn't have thought off. I have wooden salad servers. They are a little over a foot long, made of polished pine and widen out to about 2 ½ inch wide serving ends with a flat back. I gave myself a gentle tap on my bottom with one of them and that hurt!

"I want you to put me across your knee and give me fifty hard spanks with that - and no mercy" she said. "I want you to make me cry".

I did give her her fifty spanks and I did make her cry after about ten. It must have really hurt. However I did make her come as well. That bright red bottom over my knee - bits turning purple - was such a turn-on for me that I couldn't resist massaging her pussy after about fifteen spanks and again after thirty five spanks. When the fifty were up and her bottom was more purple than red she threw her arms around me, tears coursing down her cheeks and kissed me more passionately than I think I had ever experienced. I led her back to the bed and we made love passionately.

When we had finished it was back to the shower again. Lorna showed me her bottom which was a horrendous patchwork of purple splodges making me feel very guilty indeed. How could I have done that to her. I started to apologise, but she told me not to. "It was what I really needed" she said. But I continued to feel guilty about it as I could see she winced slightly as she walked.

Her rehearsals started at 10 giving us time for breakfast. I squeezed some oranges for fresh orange juice and cooked eggs and bacon and toast. We were both ravenous. Sex makes you hungry.

So commenced my first week of spanking - something that has guided me ever since. I spanked Lorna daily through the week, sometimes hard, sometimes more gently. If she came back from a concert or rehearsal and reported she's played badly, or had made mistakes, she wanted her hard spankings. How her poor bottom took it I didn't know. But the activity always aroused me strongly. I don't think I had ever had so much sex in such a short period of time in my life.

At the end of the week Lorna went back to Newcastle, leaving an awful hole in my life. She had her own life up there (including a husband!). I could hardly wait for her next visit to London.