M6 Breakdown

Literotic asexstories – M6 Breakdown by yummymeusli,yummymeusli
Why is it always raining when my car breaks down… well, nearly always? I’ll explain.

It was mid July, stinking hot and we’d been promised a heat wave. I’d been up to Cumbria visiting my mother-in-law supposedly on a ‘mission of mercy’ to help her sort out her possessions. You will know me well enough by now to realise that there was, of course, another motive and that it had something to do with getting a red bottom. This was possible as my husband had made contact with an old friend of his, whom I’d never met, was from the ‘CP’ world and lived on what would be my way home. It was to be an early evening and the scene was that I would leave all my equipment scattered about the boot floor of my estate car concealed by the luggage cover. I was to sit by the side of the road in a particular layby and he would stop to help this damsel in distress (I had his registration number).

We would make believe that I had run out of fuel and instead of suggesting he go off and get fuel he would propose towing the car to the nearest petrol station. In order to do so though, he would need the towing eye. ‘Where would that be?’ I would ask ‘in the boot’ would be the reply and then without another word he would open the tailgate, slide the luggage cover out of the way and… and, horror of horrors, there it would all be: uniforms, canes, crops, paddles, wrist and ankle cuffs, nipple clamps, vibrators and well, just about everything one would need for a very extensive session. He would challenge me about it and I would eventually relent and make it clear that being very submissive I was in need of regular punishment. He would then command me to get in his car and be driven to his house for that punishment. At least, that was how it was supposed to run. Needless to say: it didn’t.

The three days I had spent helping out went reasonably quickly and at two o-clock as I waved goodbye to my Mother-in-law the butterflies rumbling through my tummy were very pronounced. I stopped just before the motorway junction and spread everything out over the floor of the boot and then joined the M6. I was trundling along nicely, joining it at junction 32 and got nearly a hundred miles south when the car suddenly veered off course as though I’d had a puncture. I managed to pull over and onto the relative safety of the hard shoulder and rang the breakdown company who insisted that I must stand on the grass verge behind the crash barrier and not remain in the car. They also said that they would get someone to me as quickly as possible and, to be fair, it was only twenty five minutes but it was enough to get me absolutely soaked to the skin – no coat and raining cats and dogs.

When he did arrive it wasn’t the rescue firm I was expecting but an independent company and the guy explained that he worked for a local garage and that, as I was in a situation of danger the RAA had subcontracted the job to his firm as their own recovery man would have been hours. He went to the front of the car, looked at the wheel and then called over to me.

“The front wheel bearing has exploded. Never seen that before. It’s four wheel drive so it will have to be carried in, but I’ll move it to one of the emergency laybys it’ll be safer there. I’ll get the towing eye and call it in.” With that and to my utter horror he went to the rear of the car, opened the tailgate and released the luggage cover. So; here I was with the first part of my scenario happening for real. I couldn’t then have known just how ‘interesting’ things would become. I could see the look on his face, it was almost a cartoon double take as he took in what he was seeing. “Wow. There’s a lot of ‘stuff’ here Madam.”

“Yes, sorry.”

“No, it’s fine.” He spoke on the phone with his boss. “I’m to wait with you till the boss gets here. He says I can’t move it but I’m afraid you still have to remain on the other side of the crash barrier.” So that meant another twenty minutes and although the rain had eased off a bit and he had given me a blanket I was drenched. He wandered off and made a couple more calls. Eventually a flatbed truck arrived and it took another twenty minutes to load the car and make it safe and only seconds before we set off was I allowed into the cab.

I was soaking and quickly shed the wet blanket only to realise that my braless state was slightly embarrassing as my cold nipples were stiff and my wet-look blouse was revealing just about all. The rescue man got in and looked me up and down. A look of vague wonderment crossed his face.

“Shouldn’t you get out of those wet things?”

“Well I have got my case with me, but where?”

“It’s a double cab. You could get in the back and do it there, I’ll try not to look. Promise.” He half chuckled, then added under his breath “Not much chance of success. I’ll pull over in half a mile when we’re off the motorway.”

“Okay, thank you.” I looked at him again and now, as if for the first time noticing that, although in his mid fifties he was actually a very handsome man. Strong jaw, noble nose, clean shaven, straight black hair and rather large hands – I always notice their hands. We stopped in a field entrance in a lane off the main road and I climbed into the back and got some fresh things out of my bag and started to slip off my soaking blouse, my goose bumps and erect nipples, a testament to my state.

“You know we get all sorts. All sorts we do. And we never judge people.” I could see he was sneaking a look every so often in his rear view mirror and I didn’t mind – quite flattering actually – and I tried not to listen to him but he was raising his voice to be heard over the throb of the engine and it was hard to block him out. “Only the other week we had this young madam who insisted on being spanked…” My heart missed a beat and my throat went completely dry. “by one of the lads. Of course he obliged and she went home a very happy lady. Nice to keep the customers happy.” I said nothing and continued changing but, instead of the jeans I had planned on wearing I opted for a short flouncy skirt instead.

“That’s amazing.” I said, feigning surprise.

“Of course when Frank called us he had to go and blurt out what he saw in the back of your car didn’t he? I mean he wasn’t being nosey or anything, he said the stuff was all over the place and he was looking for the towing eye for the car. It just made him think about that lady that’s all… why he mentioned it I suppose.” My palms become sweaty with anticipation when an ‘event’ might be in the offing and as I fumbled with the zip and skirt catch I wondered if this might be one of those occasions.

“How embarrassing.”

“Not at all darling. Not my job to judge, just here to help out wherever I can.”

“And have you ever done that?”

“Done what darling?”

“Spanked a stranger.”

“Well, not a stranger but the misses loves it every now and then. Says it sets her straight. We do it in the back of this cab when the kids are home – she makes that much noise. Who am I to judge?”

“And would you?”

“Would I what?”

“Spank a stranger?”

“Well like I said, you’ve got to keep the customers happy.”

“And would you, well, sort of, well… take command?” I needed my submissive fix.

“That depends if the lady wants it that way.”

“I see. How would you know?”

“I suppose she’d say something like… let me see, err, she’d say ‘I like a strong man who takes command’, or something like that.”

“Right.” My voice trailed off. ‘Do I dare, do I dare utter those words? Make that irreversible move that would, likely as not, lead to a spanking and, in all probability here and now.’ But the choice was promptly taken from me.

“So, tell me… do you like a strong man who takes command?” Now, I didn’t need a phrase, all I needed to utter was just one word but my voice wouldn’t do what I was telling it to. I told it to say that little word in a loud, strong way but instead it eventually came out all mealy mouthed and girly.

“Yes.” And, then in an even more pathetic voice and almost automatically added “sir.” His whole demeanour immediately changed.

“You’ve got a lot to answer for; leaving that stuff lying around and then being surprised when people ask about it.” His tone was harsh and unforgiving, loud and angry: a total change but I guessed it was play acting. “I mean it’s just designed to wind us up, to tease us, to put all sorts of thoughts into our heads. So, now. Do you know what I’m going to do?”

“No sir.”

“I’m going to come back there and spank that backside for you and spank it good.” His voice rose into a shout. “You ready for that?” I gulped…

“Yes… sir.”

He left the engine running providing lots of warm air through the air vents, got out of his side and then opened the rear door and climbed in. If you’ve never been in the back one of these recovery trucks they have two rows of three seats facing each other so, with up to six people in the back and two more in the front he can transport up to eight passengers but what I didn’t realise was that the front row of rear seats could be folded up and, when he did so it released masses of room, much more than one would have thought possible. He sat in the middle and pointed to his lap.

“Over you go.” In less than half a turn of a ratchet spanner I felt my skirt being flipped up and his hand rubbing all over my panty clad bottom; each buttock being thoroughly explored, felt and fondled. It was actually very nice but not at all what I was expecting nor indeed what I needed. He pulled my panties down and, the moment they reached my knees the spanking began and he was clearly acting as though genuinely very cross because from the off it was hard enough to be beyond the pain threshold of most people. Not me however as I like a hard start because it gets the hormones flowing that much quicker and I could feel all of the frustration of the last few days, the anticipation, the disappointment and the knotted feeling in my stomach as a result of both, begin to float away under a hail of heavy handed hand spanking. I felt him trying to undo the catch of my skirt but he was large fingered and ham-fisted. I took his hand.

“May I sir?”

“Go on. Get the thing off.” I undid the catch, raised myself above his lap and slipped it out from under me at the same time kicking my panties off altogether. Now, naked from the waist down I upended myself once more and felt his calloused hands fondling my buttocks. I was enjoying it but not half as much as I did when he started spanking me again. There’s something very exciting about being spanked by a stranger especially when they are acting genuinely cross with one and, as the blows rained down, I wondered how much harder it would be possible for someone to spank me. And then it stopped.

“Off you get.” I slid off his lap and onto the floor wondering whether my ‘ordeal’ was over – I hoped not. “Get that blouse off.” He wasn’t one to mince his words and I watched the concentration on his face as he glared at me whilst I undid the buttons and then slid it from my shoulders. Now, completely naked in the back of a recovery truck with a large, heavily built recovery driver I watched as he took off his thick fluorescent jacket. “Kneel up on the rear seat facing away from me.” I knelt and heard him rifling around in a box between the front seats and then, crouching to one side of me I felt the slap of something hard and it hurt.

I looked around and realised that he was beating me with a long, yellow, plastic number plate, the sort one sees on the back of a car and he was beating me hard but, being a greedy pain slut I pushed my bottom out encouraging him in his efforts. I admit I was making a few noises but they were a mix of pain and pleasure and I was sure I could get more out of this.

“Sir” I said between blows, “aren’t you a little hot in all that gear?” My question brought him up short and he stopped beating me.

“Are you suggesting I undress?”

“I just thought I might be able to please you more if you…” my voice tailed off

“Well, yes I am.” Now it was my turn to gaze as he rapidly stripped off his clothes, naked, erect, slightly overweight but with a manly, hairy chest and very heavy, large arms I felt little shivers of excitement rippling through me.

“What now?” His voice no longer had the commanding tone of before but now reflected a slight change in the dynamic. I had to redress that. I reached around and gripped his erect cock.

“I think I need to help you lose that, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“But please beat me first sir. I deserve it” So saying I dropped his cock, pushed him back onto the bench and then straddled his thigh pushing my bottom up at the same time, leaning forward, slightly across him. “And please beat me hard sir.” I used one hand to steady myself and gripped his man meat with the other. He started to beat me and I started to pump, one pump for each blow. I put my mouth to his ear.

“Would you like me to make you cum sir?”

“Yes, I bloody would.”

“When you do cum…” I paused, another blow with the number plate, another pump of the hand “I’d really like it to be in my mouth.” He gasped. Another blow with the number plate, another pump of the hand. With each one I rocked my clitoris against his leg and I could feel my own end in sight. The blows got faster and harder, the pumping matching the action exactly. I watched as his eyes screwed up and knew that this was the moment. So slipped off his knee and lay sideways My face level with his lap, one of my hands between my legs, fingers inside me, the other gripping his cock. “Please beat me harder sir.” I licked the tip of his pre-cum soaked cock, feeling the sticky strings staying between us and then I opened my mouth and took him inside and as the blows continued, my reddened, stinging backside loving it, my pussy gripping my fingers I felt him start to buck up under me, the beating stopped but the squirting started. I squeezed his balls and felt the ropes of cum hitting the back of my mouth. I swallowed and swallowed but there was so much and my own climax raced through me, my nipples hard, my gasps muted by his ever pumping cock and the contents of those balls exciting my tastebuds. WoW. So much lustful pleasure, so unexpected and in such an odd environment. He thrust into my eager head, expelling the last drips and drops of his lovely essence, the passion drifting as we both calmed down and slowly became dozy moving into a comfortable state and I think I may have even drifted off for a moment or two.

His hand on my head woke me properly.

“We’ll have to get going.”

“Yes I know.” I took his cock into my mouth once more and felt his hands exploring my bottom, my red stinging bottom. Then I knelt up and he started to play with my breasts and nipples. I climbed onto his lap and sat facing him. His ministrations continued. “Thank you sir. I really needed that.”

“It were bloody lovely.”

* * *

Twenty minutes or so later we drew into his very impressive garage set-up. People were busying themselves all over the place but as we drew in a couple of the overall wearing grease monkeys seemed to stop what they were doing and watch the breakdown truck. It was as though they’d all been gossiping about the contents of the boot of my car and, by extension, about me. I shouldn’t have been surprised I suppose, after all, it’s not every day that a lady arrives with a declared interest in being punished. They quickly settled me into the waiting area with a cup of tea and I watched through the glass as they hoisted the car up and came and went, discussing this, pointing at that, occasionally looking up at me and generally appearing to be very efficient. Eventually the boss, the one who had spanked me who was called Iain came into the room.

“I can’t order the part until tomorrow now: all the factors will be shut. What would you like to do? I’ve spoken with the RAA and they’ve said they’ll pay your train fare home and back for when you come to collect it.”

“Is there a good chance you can get it done tomorrow?” In my mind I was wondering if I should stay locally, maybe rearrange my intended session for tomorrow.

“If I can get the part then yes.”

“I’ll find an hotel and stay over I think.”

“Right-oh, do you need a hand with that?”

“No, it’s fine thank you Iain, I’ll use one of the search sites.”

“Let me know when you’re booked in and I’ll get someone to run you there.”

“Thank you.”

Having tried various hotel sites I eventually booked through none of them but found an airbnb place that was very private. By this time my car was outside in the yard so I gathered all my ‘equipment’ into a bag, got hold of my small travel-bag and then let Iain know that I was ready. A few moments later a car drew up outside the waiting room and, embarrassingly enough, it was the young man who had first come out to assist me. Of course I coloured up and, feeling that I had to say something, found myself rambling just to fill the silence. He said very little until I stopped to draw breath but then quickly interjected.

“The boss mentioned that he told you about that lady, the one who asked me to spank her.” I gulped, wondering where this might be heading.

“Yes he did.”

“That was the first time I’d ever done it. Spanked someone I mean but I’ve done lots since.”

“I see. Anyone in particular?”

“No, just people from the internet. Mainly ladies but occasionally a bloke will appear and I’ll get involved.”

“Oh, I see.”

“It’s quite addictive isn’t it.”

“Yes.”

“I bet you have lots of offers.”

“I seem to manage.”

“I’ll bet. How do you find people?”

“Often my husband finds people for me. Other times it just seems to happen. I think I give off a vibe and someone reacts to it I suppose.”

“What Sort of vibe?”

“That I like to be with strong men who take control.” I realised as soon as I’d said it that it could lead to an interesting encounter. We reached the house I was staying in.

“May I know your name?”

“Joanna, yours?”

“Lee”

“Good to meet you.” I left the car with my bags in hand and opened the keysafe to the house and then went inside. It was a detached house in a suburb of the town but was unusual because, although not terribly big it was full of soft, fluffy sofas, high stools in the kitchen and was warm and comfortable. I settled in and reflected on my day. The stinging was no longer there and there was no bruising, just a rather nice memory. The thoughts that ran through my head all circled around the frustration I was feeling and I decided that I would spank myself even though I knew that would probably make things worse but I needed something.

“I’ll have a bath first.” I said to the room.

* * *

I had just climbed out of the bath and was drying myself when the phone buzzed. A text came in:

It’s Lee here. I don’t know about you but I found our conversation in the car very stimulating and I wondered if we might scratch an itch. After all, we do share a very interesting pastime. If you come back to me with a positive then I will move into dominant mode. If not then we’ll forget about it altogether and never refer to it again.

Lee

I got dressed and sat with a glass of the Pouilly Fume left in the fridge of the house and pondered. ‘Why not?’ I thought, ‘he’s reasonable looking, very polite and seems very safe. He’s also very young – early to mid twenties – and seemed pretty fit although one can’t tell much when people are wearing bulky overalls. I replied…

Hello Lee

Good to hear from you and I was also moved by our conversation and I think that for this evening I should probably call you SIR. But it’s important you know the rules: No blood, permanent marks, excreta, asphyxiation and no penetration other than my mouth and throat

Joanna: Your Plaything.

This evening you are going to be my toy, my plaything and I’m coming over to punish you and I’ll be there in half an hour. You are to be ready for me with the gear spread between the rooms. Wear the maid’s outfit. And be bent over a suitable piece of furniture. The rules are understood and will be abided by. Your safe word is ‘STOP’.