Part 1 Of 3: Origins free porn video

As the two well-wrapped figures made their way quickly through the quiet streets on an increasingly stormy Sunday afternoon, it was clear that the forecasters had been extremely accurate in predicting a dramatic change in the weather over a 24-hour period, as a band of heavy rain, with storm-force winds, came hurtling in from the Atlantic Ocean. The temperature was plummeting, the wind was gaining strength rapidly, and the skies were darkening unusually early for the time of year.

The early day-shift had been particularly arduous, with unrelenting pressure and all the tensions that such a situation engenders, with the result that both Stevie Wilbray, a twenty-nine-year-old supervisor at the call-centre where both women were employed, and Emma Castell, a thirty-five-year-old colleague who had only been transferred a few weeks previously, were ready to unwind and de-stress.

Stevie had been working for the company for the past nine years, during which time she had made her way up through the ranks to a very impressive position as Senior Supervisor, responsible for all her Department’s operations during her shift and with oversight covering four teams of twenty call-centre staff, each with its own Team Leader.

Since Emma’s relationship with Gary, her live-in boyfriend, had broken up about six months previously, after he, a Trainer at Emma’s original base, had become entangled with a new twenty-something recruit entrusted to him for induction training, she had struggled to overcome her desperate sadness after twelve years of a shared life. She had done her very best not to allow her personal problems to interfere with a job in which she took great pride, but, being a sensitive and intelligent woman, she soon realised that the continuing presence at the same workplace, where they often worked simultaneous shifts, of the two participants in the new relationship that had taken Gary from her was eroding her confidence even further.

The HR Department had proved unusually sensitive to Emma’s situation and had acceded readily to her request for a transfer to the subsidiary centre. They were in no hurry to lose such a valuable and experienced member of the company’s staff and even agreed to pay for temporary accommodations for Emma during the first four weeks of attachment to the new centre.

During the first week at the new site, Emma had been shadowing Stevie in her busy role, which involved shift work around the clock. Thereafter, she shadowed each of the Team Leaders in turn. Emma’s arrival had coincided, fortuitously, with the imminent departure on maternity leave of the last of the Team Leaders whom she was shadowing, which explains why she found herself in charge of that team on a cold and extremely miserable morning early in March.

Fortunately, Emma had managed to arrange to work most of her shifts on consecutive days, which had saved her commuting and accommodation costs, but she did not want to wait too long to find a place of her own.

During the first shadowing week at the new base, Emma had swiftly set aside any misgivings that Stevie’s youth had triggered, for the latter young woman demonstrated very clearly why she had been appointed to a role in which she had achieved great success, exhibiting work and personnel management skills that would not have been out of place in an employee twice her age. In fact, Emma had almost been overawed by Stevie’s energetic and skillful approach to her work, but quiet pauses over a number of cups of coffee in the staff canteen had reassured her that Stevie was, in fact, an extremely normal, but very level-headed and sharp-minded young woman.

For her part, Stevie had not, in all truth, been looking forward to having the ‘incomer’ assigned to her for shadowing since she had been very concerned that the ‘new girl’ might find it difficult to adapt to the way in which staff at Stevie’s centre interpreted the standard operating procedures that formed the basis for all the company’s operations. She also feared that she might bring old habits with her that could cause friction with her new colleagues.

Furthermore, Stevie had heard rumours on the company grapevine as to the reasons why Emma had asked to be transferred and this simply compounded her fears that the new arrival might not be up to speed in dealing with the very demanding workload.

As it turned out, Stevie actually found herself quite drawn to Emma, almost in a sisterly way, since the latter had, obviously, gained a great deal of experience during her twelve years with the company. At a professional level, there was, therefore, a very constructive bi-directional flow of personal experiences between the two women.

For six years, Stevie had been in a semi-detached relationship with Ollie, a welder eleven years older than her. A lot of Stevie’s colleagues had expressed sympathy with her at being separated so frequently from her ‘partner’, but she gave no hint of her relative satisfaction with a relationship that met the needs of both, but gave them both a substantial measure of independence to let their strong characters follow their respective courses in life. At no time had Stevie particularly wanted to call the relationship off, despite a degree of uncertainty as to what went on socially in Ollie’s life when his work took him to other parts of the world. Nonetheless, she was now settled in her own home - a very comfortable tastefully modernised three-bedroomed Victorian terraced house in a pleasant, quiet and leafy street, just three-quarters of a mile from her workplace. Apart from Ollie, when he stayed over at her place rather than vice versa, and a female cousin from Canada who visited her from time to time, she lived alone.

Whilst she was definitely regarded as being friendly and sociable, everybody knew that Stevie valued her privacy, so it came as much as a surprise to her as it did to Emma when she offered to put her new colleague up until she could find a place of her own. There was something about Emma that struck a chord with Stevie, but she could not define it.

The offer of this arrangement brought a huge sense of relief to Emma, who felt that Stevie was being extremely generous in taking only a contribution to utility bills and council tax as remuneration for the accommodation, so that Emma could have as much spare cash as possible available for when she found the property that she wanted. In fact, the two women had already looked around the town together, drawing on Stevie’s local knowledge of the area in which she had spent her entire life. One or two places seemed promising, but nothing had yet leaped out of an estate agent’s window and seized their attention.

Stevie and Emma kept a firm grip on their rucksacks as they headed home, having agreed that, as they had done a few times since Emma’s arrival, they would call at the gym for an hour before moving to the warmth and comfort of a house that had given Emma several ideas about internal styling and décor. Since Ollie was back home, but had been spending the day with his parents, some forty miles away, the arrangement was that he would collect Stevie between 9 and 10 p.m. that evening.

Stevie had looked quite tired at the start of her shift on that day, but Emma was not so naïve as to ask why, for she realised that Ollie had only been home for two days and that he would soon be heading off again, this time to Bulgaria, on a new construction project.

The two women had set themselves a fairly strict routine at the gym, involving a short session in the swimming pool, followed by specific exercises for different muscle groups and ending with a brisk session of cardiovascular exercises rounded off with a refreshing shower.

In the early evening that Sunday, it was obvious that a lot of people had heeded the weather warnings and had opted to stay at home. By 5.30, the two women, tired but far more clear-headed than they had been when they had left the pressure cooker that they called their workplace, were the only two people in the female changing rooms as they prepared to shower.

Stevie was not exactly an exhibitionist, even though she was very comfortable with her trim and well-muscled figure. At school, she had sometimes been taunted by her less intelligent peers for not having a particularly well-developed chest, but this had never bothered her and those girls who had been foolish enough to persist with their stupid taunts had soon learned to do otherwise.

Emma was somewhat more reserved, all the more so since she sustained the huge dent in her self-confidence that had been left by the dismantling of a relationship in which she had invested so much care and effort. This had made her self-conscious and had even led her to wonder if she was just too drab altogether, compared with dazzling blonde-haired, blue-eyed twenty-somethings who knew their potential and how to exploit it.

For once, since the changing room was otherwise empty, Stevie stripped off completely and bent over to pick up her towel and shower gel. Just at that moment, Emma, who had been putting her gym top in her rucksack, turned round and paused very briefly, slightly open-jawed, as she looked at the dark markings that ran in broad, neat lines across her landlady’s small but very shapely bottom. She quickly regained her composure and by the time Stevie looked round again, Emma was following her cue and slipping her shorts off. She also picked up her towel and shower gel and the two women headed off into the communal shower.

Emma did her very best to avoid staring at Stevie, but she could not help casting surreptitious glances across at her whenever she turned away or bent down. Slowly, she soaped herself from head to foot, then stood under the hot, soothing stream and allowed it to rinse her somewhat fuller figure, unattractive only to her, and to wash the suds out of her shoulder-length black hair.

One of the reasons why Stevie had made such good progress at the workplace was her grasp of people skills. She had developed an impressive ability to ‘read’ a person, without that individual ever guessing what was going on in her mind. Emma was, therefore, totally unaware that every one of Stevie’s spontaneous-looking actions in the changing room had been deliberate and that Stevie could read Emma’s thoughts, as she glanced at Stevie’s bottom, with complete accuracy.

The two women were about to leave the gym when Stevie’s mobile phone rang out with a particularly strident set of bars from a well-known Iron Maiden track. Stevie frowned briefly, then glanced at Emma:

“I won’t be long, just need to have a quick word with Ollie.”

Emma smiled and sat down on the comfortable sofa by the Reception desk. Again, she visualised the strange marks on Stevie’s bottom and wondered what could possibly have caused them. It was not long before her thoughts were interrupted by her landlady:

“Ollie’s stuck at his parents’ place. Two large trees have come down in the storm, blocking the road and bringing down the power lines. He’s going to stay there overnight and head back tomorrow once things are back to normal. He and his Dad reckon they can manage one of the trees so that the power company can get out and repair the lines.”

Emma frowned and expressed not entirely convincing sympathy, for she actually felt particularly comforted by Stevie’s company and was not sorry that she would not have to share it that evening.

By 7:30, after a delicious curry that Emma had prepared for them both, warmth and a gentle glow were radiating from the wood burner in the spacious front room at Stevie’s house, which was lit solely by candles and a small night-light in a socket in the corner. There was a pleasant and comforting aroma from the burned wood and both women were working their way slowly down large glasses of red wine as they relished the prospect of three rest days. Emma had abandoned any thought of going to her own family home, where she had left her personal belongings, and had secretly been planning to give her temporary home a good cleaning - not that there was any evident need of it - whilst Stevie was with Ollie at his place. Given that that would not be happening, at least until the following day, there was now nothing to do but relax, put some music on and enjoy the calm indoors that contrasted so markedly with the wild storm that was raging outside.

It took nearly a full glass of rich red Rioja to raise Emma’s confidence to a level at which she felt sufficiently uninhibited to put the question that had been eating away in her mind to Stevie. She put her glass down on the china coaster and looked, as casually as she could manage, across to the armchair where her landlady was leaning back, eyes closed, familiarising herself with what she was finding to be remarkably enjoyable music emanating from the hi-fi where Emma’s Adiemus CD was playing in the background. A far cry from heavy metal and rock music, but still interesting and agreeable.

Emma leaned forward, coughed very slightly and spoke:

“Umm, Stevie…”

It may have been the cough or it may have been the “Umm”, but Stevie interrupted her quietly and with a hint of humour in her voice:

“I know what you’re going to ask, Emma… you are wondering why my bum is marked as it is.”

Emma blushed furiously, but invisibly in the subdued light:

“Well, I couldn’t work out how you got marked like that. Did you…?”

Her enquiry tailed off as it was over-ridden, but not forcefully, by Stevie’s explanation. She was now fully alert and sitting upright, sipping from her wineglass. With a kind expression on her face, she fixed her attention on Emma:

“You might not understand what I mean, Em, but Ollie is what I call my ‘sort of’ Dom, which is actually short for ‘Dominant’.”

Emma’s mood changed rapidly from inquisitiveness to alarm, then equally quickly to deep curiosity. She picked up her wineglass, took a large mouthful, swallowed it slowly, then leaned forward, her forearms resting on the tops of her thighs.

Stevie smiled at her, then stood up and put her glass on the coffee table.

“This might take a while, hang on for a bit, Em. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

Nobody had ever used that name for her before, but Emma had come to like it and feel good about it. She watched Stevie closely as she walked out of the room.

Emma followed Stevie out and called out to her that she was just going upstairs for a moment, but would be straight back down after she had changed into her nightclothes.

About ten minutes later, Emma came back downstairs in lightweight cotton pyjamas, with a top featuring a delicate floral motif and with powder blue, semi-transparent culotte-style bottoms over her oyster-coloured knickers. A white towelling dressing-gown that came down to mid-thigh level completed the picture of a very comfortable-looking and relaxed woman. As she entered the room, Emma saw two large mugs of freshly filtered coffee on the table, with cheese biscuits, black and green olives and a fresh bottle of Rioja. She smiled, kicked off her flip-flops and curled up on the sofa. Carefully she picked up her mug of coffee and cupped it in her hands, breathing in the delicious aroma of fresh Italian coffee. As she sipped, she looked across at Stevie, who was now attired in one of Ollie’s T-shirts, which came down to mid-thigh, and a beautiful jade-coloured silk kimono adorned with a beautiful silver-coloured cherry tree motif on one side and an elegant long-tailed bird motif on the other. She was now sitting cross-legged on a thick rug, silhouetted against the warm light radiating from the wood burner. She smiled up at Emma:

“OK, let me explain, Em. Ollie and I are not big-time rockers or even BDSM fans, but he does act as my ‘Dom’ and, as such, I give him a role in guiding me if I need it. Sometimes, he thinks I need guidance when I know I don’t, but that doesn’t stop him from trying!”

Stevie giggled like a mischievous teenager, then went on to explain how, as part of the way they were together, she and Ollie would work through any issues that arose and, if they were both agreed that something was needed, then something was done. Sometimes, even if her head did not agree with what Ollie said, her heart overrode her head and she went along with his wishes.

Emma listened, completely intrigued, since, without even the knowledge of Stevie, she had, from time to time, been aware of what were to her strange thoughts, particularly when her natural inhibitions were relaxed by alcohol or a particularly calming atmosphere. Silently she listened as Stevie gave her an outline picture of how her relationship with Ollie worked and explained that, on the day after he had returned home, he had spanked and strapped her over an issue that had been outstanding for a while.

With a remarkably calm voice, Emma asked her if she resented the obvious pain that would have been caused and if these things made her feel she was being used or made to look weak.

Stevie’s response was quiet but assertive:

“No! On both counts, Em.” She smiled and went on: “It actually means a lot to me and I am not sure how I would be if this didn’t happen. Has this ever happened to you?”

Emma blushed, again almost invisibly. “No, never. I wasn’t even spanked at home, let alone as an adult.”

Stevie nodded and went on: “I was the same. I had never been spanked at home and I had reached twenty-three by the time I had my first spanking.”

“Weren’t you scared?” Emma enquired, with a genuinely concerned tone in her voice.

Stevie smiled again, then giggled, before whispering: “I was too drunk to be scared.” Well, actually, I wasn’t that drunk when he spanked me, just hungover, but I think that did numb the pain a bit - even if it didn’t help my headache a lot. It wasn’t much, just a few smacks - but I felt them!”

Emma was very unsure as to where this conversation was going to lead, but she was so consumed with curiosity now that she felt she just had to know more.

“And does he just spank you for punishment?”

Stevie laughed warmly and put her mug down on the coffee table. “No way, sometimes we just do it for fun or as … well you don’t need me to go into detail.”

Emma grinned and nodded. “No, you don’t! I’ve obviously just led a sheltered life. Doesn’t the pain make the errr, umm, other things you do uncomfortable or unpleasant?”

Stevie adopted a very stage-managed look of feigned rebuke as she addressed Emma. “Hey, we’re grown women, Em, and although I know things haven’t…”

Although her intention had been the best, Stevie suddenly wanted to kick herself in case she had unintentionally triggered a memory associated with very negative, albeit mental, pain in a woman who was now becoming a close friend: “Sorry, Em, it was stupid of me…”

Emma wiped away a tear but continued to smile: “It's OK, Stevie, I do actually need to talk these things through if I’m ever going to get past the bad history and start building my confidence again. In all honesty, you feel just right for sharing these things, so ta! I couldn’t talk to many people about them. Just say what’s on your mind.”

The discussion, all very calm and mature, but interspersed with giggles and laughter on both sides, went on for a good hour, by which time the second wine bottle was nearly empty, as was the coffee pot. Stevie and Emma were both very relaxed by now and the conversation was flowing far more freely, with matching relaxed body language as Emma stretched out on the sofa and Stevie clasped her hands round her flexed legs, showing off her athletic thighs very clearly.

Emma looked at her and put on a despairing expression: “Oh Stevie, if I could just learn to think like you and even develop a figure half as good as yours…”

Stevie gave her a teasing glare. “Em, you’re talking complete bollocks. I’ve seen you naked too, remember, and believe it or not, I found myself wishing I had curves where you do. You’ve got gorgeous boobs and a really fantastic bum. Not only that, you are a good and kind, caring woman, so stop fretting. You’ve had a very bad knock that wasn’t your fault, so stop hammering yourself. Given time, there’ll be a queue of people wanting to get to know you.”

It suddenly dawned on Stevie that she had never before spoken in such terms to another woman, also that, between them, she and Emma had consumed almost a full bottle of Rioja each over the four hours that had passed since they had returned home.

Emma would normally have been extremely embarrassed at Stevie’s remarks, but a combination of trust in this young woman and a real sense of relaxation, enhanced by the effects of good food and wine, made her think more seriously about what they had discussed and to start, for the first time in ages, to feel a little bit more confident about herself and a lot more curious about what Stevie and Ollie got up to from time to time. After a lull in their conversation, Emma was about to raise a question on that subject when, out of the blue, Stevie fired a question straight at her:

“Do you ever think about getting spanked, Em? Or even about spanking someone else?”

Emma was speechless, transfixed by such a direct and relevant question. She nodded mutely and smiled shyly before whispering:

“You know I do!”

She blushed again and sat up, resting on her elbow.

“I don’t think there’s anything weird about that, Em, but then, maybe I’m weird!” Stevie’s words brought a smile to Emma’s face.

“Probably we’re both weird, but who gives a rat’s anyway? Nothing to do with anyone else, unless we choose to make it their business!”

As the glow from the embers in the wood burner began to fade, reality struck home and, uncustomarily, the two women decided to leave clearing up until the morning. Wearily but happily and only very slightly unsteadily, they turned all the lights off downstairs and headed up to their respective bedrooms and, once the usual bathroom bedtime rituals had been completed, fell into a deep sleep across the corridor from each other.

Despite the quantity of wine that they had downed the previous evening, Emma had a perfectly clear head when she awoke at around 8.15 the next morning, the only depressing feature of which was the storm outside that continued to rage. There was not a sound from Stevie’s room, so she decided to have a very quick and quiet wash, then to go downstairs and tidy up, still dressed in her nightclothes and wrapped in her towelling dressing gown.

To her surprise, the lights were on in the kitchen, the breakfast bar was set and there was a jug of filter coffee simmering on the coffee maker. The smell of freshly-baked croissants mingled mouth-wateringly with the aroma of the coffee and set Emma’s taste buds deliciously on edge.

As Emma entered the kitchen, Stevie turned round to greet her, dressed very simply in a cream-coloured camisole top and loose navy blue shorts with a white string belt. Emma grinned and walked over to her landlady. For the first time since she had known her, she gave her a brief but very warm hug. “Thanks for last night, Stevie, I feel better than I have in months. I feel so much more relaxed now, particularly with you! I’ve been thinking about the things we chatted about.”

Stevie held Emma close in their embrace and there was no mistaking her affection for her older friend.

“I’m not surprised you’ve been thinking, Em. So have I.”

Emma blushed very visibly as Stevie locked her in her gaze.

“You haven’t been reading my mind, I hope…” came the slightly timid and nervous reply.

Stevie tilted her head slightly to one side and looked Emma straight in the eye.

Emma shivered slightly, despite the comforting atmosphere in the kitchen, sensing that a direct shot from Stevie was imminent. She was not wrong.

Stevie reached forward and took Emma’s hands. “Do you trust me?”

Emma now saw the immediate future coming ever more clearly into focus. She nodded slightly and whispered: “Course I do, Stevie. I’ve never talked to anyone like I did to you.”

Stevie, now wearing a more serious expression, squeezed Emma’s hands gently.

“Come with me, please, Em. This will only take a few moments.”

Together, the two women walked the short distance from the kitchen to the front room, where Stevie opened the door and led Emma in before closing the door behind them.

The wood-burner was glowing again and the room felt warm and comfortable.

Emma felt both apprehensive and relaxed, even slightly excited, but this time she was not surprised.

Stevie walked to the sofa. The coffee table had been moved away and there was now nothing between the sofa and the hearth except the thick rug. Stevie sat down on the sofa and beckoned to Emma to come to her. She looked up with the most amazing, kind expression on her face and simply said: “It’s time, Em, let’s get this done.”

Almost as if she were being guided like a drone, Emma took off her dressing gown and laid it over the armchair before turning back towards Stevie, who was now sitting with her legs apart and with a large cushion over her left thigh. Carefully, Emma laid herself across the cushion and felt Stevie’s right leg cross over her legs while her left arm held Emma securely, her fingers folded comfortingly round her waist, just above her thin culottes, which felt taut across her exposed behind. Uncertainly, Emma rested one hand on the carpet, whilst the other folded round Stevie’s ankle.

The smacks were firm from the start, delivered initially at a slow pace, covering Emma’s entire bottom. The best physical response that Emma could make was to squirm slightly as the sting in her cheeks intensified with the gradual acceleration in the pace of the spanking. At first, Emma tried to keep count, but suddenly she realised that she had stopped counting and squirming. In fact, all she could think about was how good the deepening heat in her bottom felt and how amazing the sound of the smacks was. Suddenly, apart from the muted crackling from the stove, there was nothing, just quietness in the relative darkness inside a room separated from the outside by heavy curtains that were still closed. Two gentle taps on Emma’s bottom were followed by a whispered enquiry: “Do you want to go on, Em?” as the spanker’s hand caressed her warm cheeks.

Emma turned her head round, smiled at Stevie and nodded.

“Stand up, Em.”

Emma stood up, a little unsteadily and uncertainly, then faced Stevie, watching as her culottes were lowered. Stevie paused and looked at Emma’s middle, adorned only with knickers; she reached round to caress her spanked cheeks through the oyster coloured garment. Slowly, Stevie’s hands moved to Emma’s hips and slid inside her knickers, pushing them carefully halfway down her thighs to her culottes. Gently she guided Emma backwards and stood up.

Stevie held Emma’s hips gently in her hands as she looked directly into the spanked woman’s eyes: “How do you feel about a short taste of leather before we finish … for now?”

Emma’s heart fluttered with excitement and apprehension as she assimilated all these unfamiliar feelings that were so different from what she had anticipated. She whispered hoarsely: “Yes please, Stevie!”

The cushion was moved to the arm of the sofa and Emma instinctively made her way round and bent herself slowly over it, leaving her bottom high in the air. She felt a rare sense of total relaxation, despite the sting and heat in her behind. She closed her eyes and rested her forehead on the sofa. Behind her, she could hear a drawer being opened. The next thing she felt was a softish object, akin to a ping-pong paddle, but pliable, being slid over her now rose-coloured cheeks. Stevie’s voice cut through her thoughts. “I know women 15 years younger than you who would happily swap their bums for yours, Emma. You are a lucky woman, believe me.”

Emma said nothing, but for once accepted the kind comments, as she was beginning to feel more positive about her body and was experiencing mild sexual arousal for the first time in many months - and for the first time in her life in the presence of another woman.

Emma shook as the leather paddle landed firmly across her buttocks, straddling the cleft. When the paddle landed for the second time, with a resounding ‘Crack!’, she nearly leapt up, but something kept her down as she drummed her toes on the carpet.

The final two swats, delivered with equal determination and force, brought tears of happiness and exultation to her eyes as she felt the sharp sting gradually mutate into deep heat and paradoxically pleasurable soreness in her skin. The spanking was over, but Emma just lay there for a few moments before standing up carefully and turning round to face the young woman who had just spanked her and who now stood, her arms folded, holding a beautifully crafted leather paddle in her hand.

Stevie put the paddle down on the sideboard, then approached Emma, put her hands round the back of her neck and hugged her warmly. Stevie released Emma briefly, allowing her friend to reciprocate the hug and releasing her own hands to slide down and to caress the warm bottom in the most amazing, comforting way. For the first time in her life, Emma felt deep pangs of sexual attraction towards another woman.

After a few moments, Stevie pulled Emma’s knickers up slowly over her bottom then caressed the cheeks through the soft fabric one more time. Finally, Stevie lifted the culottes back into place and tied the bow at the front, before facing Emma and kissing her gently and softly on her cheek, holding the other cheek in her hand.

The street was deserted, apart from a gentleman of some substance on one side, attached tautly to a Jack Russell terrier. On the opposite side, a disinterested, docile Irish wolfhound, was towing a diminutive, timid-looking, bespectacled gentleman along the street. The Jack Russell snarled, unheard, across the street. Suddenly, both pedestrians and both dogs turned to look towards the source of a loud crash from the far end of the street, as a dislodged slate disintegrated harmlessly in the middle of the otherwise empty thoroughfare.

Four crows took off from the branches above the Jack Russell terrier and flapped raggedly, seemingly without a care, into course-less flight, exuberantly defying the best destructive efforts of Nature.