And I have done several things. I've eliminated a character and inserted another more aligned with my own idea of the story. I've done extensive editing and rewriting of passages. That said, this is mostly Mr. Houlihan's creation.
THE BOARDER by Brian Houlihan, edited by Rollin Hand
"Step in, honey."
She was holding a pair of women's cotton panties, pink, open for me to step
into. I was naked and trembling. I followed her orders. Frieda pulled the
panties up my legs and then fastened them about my waist, stroking my penis and balls and ass several times. My ass was on fire from the hard spanking she had just administered to my bare bottom, but my penis was as hard as a rock. Now in a conciliatory mood, she tenderly caressed my flaming cheeks with the same palm that had, minutes before, spanked them quite soundly while I had squirmed and bucked face down across her lap.
"There. Now doesn't that feel good, honey?"
"Ohh…Oh someone's getting a little hard, Sweetness. I guess you like your pretty panties."
"Ooh Mommy. That feels so good."
She was slowly stroking my dick and balls. I was on fire.
"Oh look, Darling. You're getting all big and hard. Or at least as big as you get." (She giggled) " We'd better take care of that. Or Baby is going to have trouble sleeping later. Go into the bathroom and get the hand lotion, Hon."
In a boner sex trance, I minced down the hallway and into her bathroom. I opened the medicine cabinet and took out the Jergen's Hand Lotion container and quickly returned to the bedroom with it. Knowing that she would be jacking my hard dick soon. I was putty in her strong, feminine hands. Willing putty.
It had all started when I rented a basement apartment from this middle aged German woman and her companion in the Ravenswood neighborhood of Chicago. Marta and Frieda lived together. Frieda was in her mid forties, Marta was maybe in her early 30's. They were just a couple of ordinary women living together and trying to make ends meet renting a room. My sense was that Frieda owned the building.
I was at a real low point in my life. I had just split up with my wife, Pat,
and she had the old apartment in the suburbs. Now I was on my own in the city, working a clerical job at a film production house downtown. I was approaching thirty years old and I just seemed to be adrift. But thank God I had a job when I signed the lease for the apartment. Frieda showed it to me. She had that typical Germanic look, I guess, a large solidly built woman with an ample bust and big hips. Attractive, really in a sort of maternal way. She fit the mold of an old world housewife, efficient, cordial, and solid. Marta had dark hair and was thinner. Nice figure too. Neither was a real looker but both were attractive.
The room was neat, clean to a fault, and cheap. Perfect for me. I filled out the application as she waited. As I said, she appeared to me to be sort of a '50's mom. You know, flower print dress, very conservative.
She said she would check my credit and get back to me. Fine. I was staying at a motel downtown. She phoned me that night, which seemed awfully quick. I was approved and could move in immediately. She said she wouldn't begin to charge me until the first of the month. Since this was the third week in April that was very generous.
My old buddy Ray had a truck and he helped me move. I didn't have much stuff so it was easy. I liked living in the city, as opposed to the suburbs, and
went for walks as often as I could. However, the apartment was in the basement and it didn't get much light. It was dark a lot and kind of gloomy. If I was depressed this dark quality just added to it.
I ran into Frieda one Saturday morning. She was watering the lawn in the back
yard. She was wearing shorts and she looked very nice in them. She had big hips, but a tucked in waist created a lot of curves and made her look quite sexy.
"Hi Mrs. Schmidt. You look nice in those shorts."
"Why thank you! Oh David, Marta and I want you to come for dinner tomorrow
night. Seven pm. Upstairs."
The way she said it, she didn't even consider me not accepting. I was hesitant. But she was the landlord and I wanted to be on their good side.
"Um…okay. Thank you. I'll be there, Mrs. Schmidt."
She smiled and continued watering the grass.
Dinner was a bit tense. Frieda seemed to want to draw me out, but she also
seemed very nosy. "Do you have a girlfriend? I would think a good looking man like you would have several."
"No, not really. I just split up with my wife. But thanks for the compliment."
"Well I'm sure it's her loss. You'll have another one in no time. Probably
better looking." She kept staring and smiling at me. Her attention made me a bit uneasy. Marta said almost nothing. Just smiled at me and nodded agreement with Frieda. Frieda was definitely the boss in this family. "Marta, more wine!" She ordered the younger woman around like a servant.
She'd pop up out of her chair, go into the kitchen, and return with a fresh
bottle of German wine, which she poured for everyone. You'd have thought she was the maid. There was something going on there too, for Marta seemed subdued and Frieda's tone with her was sharp. I wondered what the relationship was. Lesbians, maybe? Lurid thoughts began to form.
I jerked back to awareness when Frieda spoke.
"Are you going out to the clubs to meet girls, David?"
"Uh...not that much."
"Well it's best to get back into the swim of things. You know, like getting
thrown from a horse. You just jump right back on. Don't let the horse
"I'm sure that's good advice." They served pot roast and it was delicious. After dinner, we had some brandy in the living room. They had a nice big apartment, two bedroom.
"Do you like brandy, David?"
"Oh yes. I love to drink."
"Ha. Ha. What else do you love?"
"That's a secret," I said with a wink. Never hurts to create a little mystery. Truth was, I didn’t have any.
Frieda chuckled and smiled at me. She enjoyed repartee like that. And I was
positive she wanted to know all of my secrets. But what were hers?
As I was leaving their place to return to my apartment downstairs, she walked me to the back door and then kissed me on the cheek. That seemed odd. For the first dinner with the new boarder. Oh well. She smelled good and her big tits felt good too as she leaned in to plant the kiss.
That night as I lay in bed, I thought I heard strange noises from upstairs. There were these muffled cracks, like a twig snapping, but they were repetitive. It went on for a few minutes. Toward the end I thought I heard what sounded like a woman crying. More mystery. I tossed fitfully then went back to sleep.
The following Saturday morning I was sleeping in late. The job was boring and it looked like it might be ending soon. The office gossip was that they were in trouble. Financial trouble. I picked up a bottle of vodka on my way home and drank it in my room. There was a knock at the door. Weird. I didn't know anybody in the neighborhood and it wouldn't be Ray, he would have called me. I got out of bed and opened the door a sliver. It was Frieda. She had on new jeans and low heels.
"Hi David. I hope I didn't wake you."
She glanced down at my crotch and I realized I was semi hard in my jockey
"Uh no, Frieda. Kind of a big night. What can I do for you?"
"I want you to come shopping with me. Just some groceries. It'll be fun."
I stood there for a minute. I really didn't feel like going. But there was
something about her. I looked up again and she glanced at my dick again and
smiled. "Throw some jeans on and meet me in the garage in ten minutes."
"Okay." I had nothing else to do and besides Frieda was interesting company.
After I shut door, I touched my dick and I was now rock hard, thinking of her
smile and her looking at my crotch. Did Frieda want me sexually? That's the
vibe I got. But what about Marta? Odd deal, there. Hey, she was in charge.
These thoughts ran thru my head while I threw some clothes on and ran an
electric razor over my face.
Frieda beamed with a big smile when I arrived in the garage. She had a late
model Lincoln Town Car so she must have had money from somewhere.
As we drove to the store I realized I enjoyed being in her company. There was
something mysterious about her. What were her motives? I was bored and quite lonely. Didn't really have any friends in the city, with the exception of Ray. So I was flattered that she was taking an interest in me.
She was amusing in the store. She would pick something out and put it
in her basket, then explain why she chose that item.
She lit up in the cosmetics section. "Did you know I dye my hair?"
"You're not a very good liar, David. But you are sweet."
Then she slapped me on the ass affectionately. It startled me. Why did she do that, I wondered. The other odd thing was that when she did it, I got hard. It was her attitude toward me--proprietary, like I belonged to her.
As the day wore on she was touching me more and more. "Ever thought about giving yourself some highlights in your hair?"
"No." Where was this going, I wondered.
"You have pretty hair." Then she was touching my hair and my neck. I loved her fingers on me. My dick was out of my jockey shorts and tingling.
Could she see it?
"Have you ever thought about shaving your legs?"
"No." Shave my legs? Whatever for?
"You have very nice legs. Womanly. A lot of girls would kill for your legs," She laughed. I didn't know how to take it.
She liked to buy all the tabloids too. "I love to read all the dirt and
scandals. The more dirt the better."
Here she slapped my ass again, but this time her hand lingered on it.
When we returned home, I offered to help her put her things away. "Oh no, I've bothered you enough. Go chase some girls." Then another swat on the butt.
Returning to my apartment, I had a full fledged, wet hard on. I had had it for half of the time with her. I made myself a drink and began fantasizing about Frieda Schmidt. Did she want to have sex with me? It sure seemed like it. I had never thought very much about it before but the aura of Frieda's dominance was turning me on.
I took a nap and woke up later with a very wet crotch. I had had a great wet
dream about Frieda. Then I jacked off thinking about her. It was her power and her no nonsense attitude. Like she was in control and could have me if she wanted. Like I was just a little boy. Her little boy.
The following week I was let go from the job. Yeah, they were in trouble all
right. And now so was I. Now I was really depressed. Of course I was around the apartment now on week days. I would see Frieda now and then and she was always friendly. Thank God she didn't ask me about my job. That was tactful.
On Friday she knocked on my door and asked if I would like to make some extra
money? Sure, I told her. She needed her garage cleaned. It was filthy.
She would pay me fifty bucks. Great! I set to work immediately. It took me several hours. When I was finished I was very proud of my work. I had removed about 18 full bags of trash from the place. I thought about knocking on her door and asking for the money. But then thought against that. Maybe she knew I was out of work. That was classy. Why not just wait until she brings it up and pays me? I must confess here that I was thinking about her a lot and jacking off a lot. She was turning into the main character in my fantasies.
The following Monday she knocked on my door. It was early afternoon. She seemed a bit dressed up, make up and a nice skirt and pressed blouse. The blouse showcased her big tits.
"Ah. You're in. Good. You did such a good job, cleaning the garage, I want
you to come up and have a drink."
By this time I didn't even consider turning her down. I didn't know where this was going. But I was enjoying it. I dressed casually in jeans and knocked on her back door. She led me into the living room. There were two drinks on the coffee table. Strong drinks. Manhattans, I think.
She paid me the fifty bucks and handed me my drink. I was already semi hard in anticipation. I noted the drinks seemed to have no effect on her. She was crossing her legs a lot. Was this a date? Intense staring at me. Had she been having wet dreams too?
"David, do you ever feel like something is missing in your life?"
"Yeah. Sometimes." What an odd question. I noticed her playing with her high heels a lot--kind of twirling and displaying them.
"You are such a sweet boy. But you seem sort of lost. Without direction."
I just sat there and took this in, the whiskey burning a hole in my belly. She smiled and poured us more Manhattans from a large pitcher she had made.
"It seems like you just need some discipline in your life, something to motivate you."
I said nothing. But at the word "discipline" started to feel a chill creep up my spine. At the same time my dick was getting harder. And that
intense stare of hers, like a cat eyeing a mouse. A trapped mouse. She placed a hand on my thigh.
Now she was rubbing my leg. Cast iron boner. I couldn't believe she was being so intimate. I hadn't had sex with anybody in ages.
"Do you mind me touching you, David?"
"No! it's nice." I was blushing and nervous, though.
"Good, hon. I like you. And I like touching you. Do you like me?"
"Yes Mrs. Schmidt." I was captivated.
"Yes, of course. Frieda."
Now her hand was rubbing my mid thigh. My dick was punching my pants.
"David, I want us to be close. I think it will be good for both of us."
I was stunned. I didn't know what to say. She leaned over and kissed me softly on the lips. Then her tongue entered my mouth. Boldly roaming around and then sucking my tongue. Her perfume smelled nice. She was wearing more of it than usual. Squeezing my leg. She sipped her drink and just stared at me. Then another long, sexy kiss, rubbing my leg. Then her hand was on my ass, squeezing it, rubbing it. I felt a major hard-on coming.
“Marta needed discipline too, when she came to live with me. Would you like to see how I discipline her? Sometimes she is very naughty.”
I nodded dumbly, while Frieda called out, “Marta come here. Now.”
I wasn’t prepared for what I saw. Marta came in from the kitchen. She wore a flimsy white apron adorned with lace. Underneath she was naked except for a black garter belt, stockings and lace panties. Her heels must have been six inches high and she moved in even mincing steps because there was a hobbling chain secured to her ankles with cuffs. Her wrists were secured with similar cuffs. In her hands she held a slender wand about 2 feet long. It looked like a switch from the back yard. I was stunned. So this was what I had heard. My mouth went dry and I started to shiver with excitement. My whole world had just shifted at the sight of Marta in her punishment outfit.
“I have promised Marta a good switching. You will see. Now.” To Marta she said, “Hand me the switch.”
Marta obeyed, but she was blushing furiously and would not look at me.
“Bend over the back of the sofa you naughty girl. You need a whipping.”
Marta bent over thrusting her cute buttocks up over the sofa’s back. Frieda rose and approached her side, flexing the switch. She flicked it through the air. It made a sick whining sound and Marta flinched.
“You will have two dozen strokes for your disobedience, Marta.” Marta acknowledged this pronouncement with a weak, “Yes, Frieda.”
Frieda whipped the little switch down with a flick of her wrist making a thwacking sound. A red tramline appeared across the center of Marta’s bottom cheeks and she gasped. Slowly and efficiently Frieda delivered a painful switching to Marta’s bottom, pausing only to admonish her to remain in position. Occasionally Marta wriggled her buttocks or lifted her legs off the floor in response to a particularly stinging stripe. She made no sound except for muffled gasps as the switch stung her cute bottom. I watched as red stripes covered the expanse of the twitching bottom cheeks that were so submissively presented for the attentions of the switch.
When the requisite two dozen strokes had been delivered Frieda said, “You may rise now Marta.”
Marta rose. Her face was flushed and her cheeks wet from tears.
“And what do you say, my pet?”
“Thank you for correcting me, Tante Frieda.
“Yes, my dear. Now you will replace the switch, yes?”
Marta took the switch and hobbled off toward a back bedroom, the switched cheeks wobbling painfully as she walked.
“Now you see, David. Discipline. She needed correction for numerous faults. We must have obedience, yes?”
I was dumbfounded. In a spell. I could only nod.
Now Frieda turned her attentions to me.
“And what about you, David? I think you need discipline too. That is what I think.”
I did not know what to say. I was paralyzed with fear, arousal and curiosity. She sensed that she was fully in control of me. I will never forget what came next.
"Stand up, my young man."
I stood up. What now? Did she have some kind of plan? She seemed bold. I was a bit scared. She just smiled at me as she sipped her drink.
"We can be close, David. Very close. But first things first. You are a very sweet boy--but also a naughty boy," she said wagging her finger at me. "I think you are undisciplined--moping around. I plan to fix that. So now--I want you to take your pants off, honey."
I just stood there. Was she serious?
"Well, do it! Go on! Don't just stand there!"
Her voice was suddenly bossy. Trembling and very nervous, I undid my belt and attempted to remove my pants. It was very awkward because I tried to take the pants off over my shoes, but it wouldn't work. So I had to sit down and unlace and remove my shoes. My hands were shaking. I was under her spell. She just sat there sipping her drink and smiling, as if she was quite used to this. Finally I was standing in front of her in my jockey briefs and a T-shirt. My dick was rock hard.
But now I was becoming frightened.
"Come here," she commanded.
I stood in front of her. She pulled me in between her legs. She was still
smiling at me, patting my behind and rubbing the backs of my legs.
"Such a pretty girl."
The next thing I knew I was over her lap. This was taking on a dream like
quality. Then she slid her hand under my jockey briefs. Then she was stroking my naked ass cheeks and my upper thighs. The air was electric with sexual tension.
I was almost afraid to breathe. But I did savor her being in charge, making all the decisions for me.
"Just relax, hon. Momma's gonna give you a good sound spanking. Pretty, undisciplined boys need good spankings on their little bottoms--to make them all hot and stinging and then you will have a good
cry. Lots of hot salty tears from my pretty boy."
Now I was scared. A spanking? Like some ten year old kid? It was all like a strange dream. The sing-song quality of her voice, lulled me into abject submission. But my dick was harder than ever. I had let her pull me down, across her knees. It was a terribly vulnerable feeling--my head down and my behind sticking up. I felt a new surge of arousal as she patted my cheeks through the thin cotton of my briefs.
Crack! Crack! "Ow!" I felt her palm smack my bottom cheeks hard and it stung.
"Shhh. Quiet baby. Don't be a bad girl."
The first two spanks were hard. My ass was stinging. But god I was excited.
"Such a pretty little boy ass," she cooed. “All round and smooth.”
Then she started smacking my bottom. At first the smacks were light. I squirmed over her lap rubbing my dick against her thighs. I was becoming more and more aroused. Then she stopped. I felt her fingers in the waistband of my underpants and froze. She spanked me hard and told me to lift up. Then she dragged my shorts down to my knees. My bottom was bare and the touch of her hand on it was electric--her fingers playing on my ass, then in my crack, then probing my anus. Had she planned it this way? The she lifted her palm and brought it down hard.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! She was incredibly
strong. It hurt. I was crying already.
"Ow! Oww! Frieda no, that hurts!" I couldn't help it.
"Shh. Quiet baby. Momma loves you. This is for your own good.”
The spanking continued. Hard deliberate, ringing smacks. My ass was blazing hot. I could hear myself crying and sobbing. Like a child.
Her fingers were on my ass, then on my balls, thighs, then, reaching under, squeezing my dick. She knew it was turning me on. The respite over, her relentless smacking continued. It felt like an interminable time but must have been two or three minutes. No talking. Just her hand rising and falling, impacting my hot red behind, making me wriggle and cry. Next thing
I knew I was bawling my eyes out. Wailing loudly. Then she'd be stroking me
"Shhhh. Moma's here honey. It's all right." She had stopped and was rubbing and squeezing my ass again.
Then I could feel her finger going into my asshole. Just a little. Then a
little more. Then she pulled her finger out and grasped my rock hard dick. "You naughty little man! Momma's spanking will be good and hard." Then she began to spank in earnest, peppering my bare ass with crisp authoritative smacks. I writhed and kicked. She just gripped me harder and kept on smacking.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
Desperately, I squirmed, wailing some more, hiccuping and crying like a baby.
"Almost finished baby. Almost over, Precious."
I could hear myself crying loudly. Then it was quiet. Then she was touching my dick again. Slowly jacking it. She must have known exactly how close I was to cumming.
Suddenly I went over into this dreamlike orgasm, my dick spurted in a volcanic eruption, and then kept pumping and pumping and pumping, with her help. I seemed to keep cumming for a long, long time. I broke down and wept. With pain. With relief. With pleasure. I was an emotional mess.
"Shhhhh," she said, "be still. Now my sweet boy has had his good spanking over momma's knee. He has a red hot stinging bottom, just like naughty boys need."
My face was soaking wet from crying. It was like I had reverted to being a ten year old boy. Twenty nine years old and bawling like a baby. Post orgasmic euphoria. My dick and balls felt drained and wonderful. Now she was stroking my ass again and my thighs.
"Good girl. You are such a good girl."
I seemed to cry and heave for a long, long time.
Then a long silence while she stroked me.
"Stand up honey."
Finally I stood up. On wobbly legs. In a dream. My dick was soft. There was a puddle of cum on her carpet. My jockey shorts were in a heap on the floor. As I stood there I realized that that was easily the best orgasm I had ever experienced. She was smiling at me. Beaming. Her face was flushed and her eyes were bright.
"Such a pretty girl." Then she was up and embracing me, kissing me, her tongue in my mouth, sucking my tongue, in control, stroking my ass, whimpering with pleasure.
"That was wonderful. I knew that's what my baby needed. And now I've got a
present for a good girl who took her first spanking for Momma."
"Mommy. You call me Mommy now."
She kissed me on the lips and patted my hair, like I was a pet that had
"Okay Precious. Get dressed and get out of here."
In a total sex daze, I got back into my clothes.
She swatted me on the ass. "Now scoot."
That was just the beginning.