Philip had thought himself very lucky when Gertrude Hinkle began taking an interest in him. The thirty two year old virgin was flattered that an attractive twenty four year old female actually spoke to him about anything other than work. He was the office manager but the other women laughed at him, and not only behind his back. Gertrude was different, she would listen and listen until eventually she knew all his secrets. He just couldn't help telling her about his trips to a special lady who once a month would spank him and tell him he was a naughty boy. Of course it was never quite what he anticipated, quite what he imagined, quite what he looked forward too, but it was the best he could ever hope for wasn't it? Then he told Gertrude how he paid for his excursions. He had been smart, Head Office had never suspected a thing. He hadn't wanted marriage, no, that had been Gertrude's idea, he didn't really have much choice did he? Not if she did what she said she would do. She had chosen his suit and arranged everything, even chose his Best Man, since he had no friends.
At first it had been heavenly for him, she ordered him about, told him exactly what to do and how to behave and took him across her knee and smacked his bottom. Then one day she smacked and smacked and smacked until he was wriggling and bucking and writhing on her lap but still she continued. He screamed and cried real tears of pain. She had hugged him, kissed him and tucked him into bed. She comforted him and told him she would look after him. And now she does.
Philip is now a thirty three year old virgin who is treated like a toddler. Gertrude is his mummy and he is never allowed to act his age. You would think Philip would be grateful, ecstatic to have fulfilled his fantasy. But no, now he cannot choose when he will get his bottom smacked, he cannot choose when he will go to bed, he cannot choose which clothes he will wear. Ever.