The Big-Bottomed Lady Upstairs

[This story is the latest in the Shy Widow series of stories. It involves a neighbor of Margaret's and Will's. It has many aspects and could have also been listed under the Fetish, Anal, Exhibitionism, and BDSM categories, among others. It has references to bodily functions and fluids, so if that bothers you, I suggest you read no further. All characters in this story are well over 18 years old.]

The lewd noises from the flat below were driving her crazy

Ethel Watson knew that her mental health was not in the best of shape, to put it mildly. A decade of living alone had not done her any favors. It was beyond humiliating to realize that at age 45 her last serious relationship had ended when she was only 35. It was not as if she had no desires. Oh, she had plenty of desires alright, some of them fueled by the very naughty stories she had discovered online at Littersmutica, the amateur erotic story site she turned to for diversion and solace.

And it wasn't as if she wasn't a nice person. Ethel tried to be nice and pleasant to everyone she met. And if she got right down to it, it wasn't that she was ugly or unattractive, exactly. She thought her face was rather pretty, with big blue eyes, plush lips, and quite nice cheek bones. True, her proportions were a bit out of whack. Her rump was laughably outsized, a trait that all the women on her mother's side had shared. And her titties were like light-brown eggs, barely a handful, and almost entirely covered by her large areolas with peg-like nipples sticking out. She knew from videos she had seen online that there were plenty of men who were quite happy to take a roll in the hay with a BBW.

The problem was that her inhibitions regarding intimate matters had been growing worse as the years went by. When she was younger, her hormones had helped overpower her self-doubts, and besides, she had not yet expanded into BBW status. But her last break-up with someone she had truly loved had left her feeling rejected and insecure. And when Ethel was depressed, she tended to snack away her blues, which made for an extra roll or two around her belly, which depressed her even more and the cycle began again.

And yet she was not unfriendly. She enjoyed her job as a waitress in a diner, where she joked with the regulars and had an infectious laugh. She even learned to tolerate their teasing about her enormous bum. But she was relieved, at the end of her shift, to just head home and escape into the world of erotic fantasies. As a kind of compensation for her real life insecurities, she especially enjoyed stories about shy or reserved older women who were placed in humiliating situations or forced to submit to terribly lewd procedures and punishments. She knew that something had gone out of kilter in her own life, and that increased her wish for someone to take over her life and introduce some discipline into it.

She had become especially fond of the stories by a Littersmutica author who went by the nom de plume of Jackobin. She adored his little universe of shy widows in extravagant undergarments who succumbed to their most secret depraved fantasies. The tales had an underlying thread of wit and ridiculousness that made them unthreatening to Ethel. They seemed to give her permission to imagine herself as one of their characters drawn into the most intimate carnal acts -- a dignified older woman who is persuaded to lose her inhibitions and express her secret sluttiness within.

If only she could magically set her introverted anxieties aside and submit to a loving master who would draw her into depraved acts of the most excruciating intimacy, an intimacy that would expose her shame and yet embrace it. She found herself reading these stories over and over, until she almost knew them by heart, drawing herself into fingering her hairy puss which was invariably sopping wet with her fragrant juices. If only she had the courage to act out her fantasies; to reach out somehow to someone who would take her in hand and just make her do it.

* * *

One of the things that had been driving Ethel crazy was the sounds coming up the airshaft through her bedroom window from the two flats below. Ever since the shy widow had moved into the flat directly beneath Ethel's and then taken up with that older man in the flat next to hers, Ethel's ears had been assaulted with the lewd sounds of their incessant sex-play, which seemed to include spanking, paddling, bondage, and all manner of rough sex and even peeing. Though they tried to mute things by closing their windows and pulling the drapes across them, the walls and ceilings in the apartment building were so thin that everyone could hear nearly everything going on in their adjoining flats.

Not that such sounds offended Ethel. Far from it. They were the perfect accompaniment to her favorite stories, indeed almost as if those very stories were being acted out below. But they were almost a form of torture for the poor woman, as they made her constantly horny with only masturbation as a means of release. Despite Ethel's fear of intimacy, she was experiencing a stronger and stronger craving for a good spanking with each passing day. She had even tried spanking herself with a fly-swatter, but the posture was awkward and she barely felt the swats, perhaps because her cheeks were so well-padded.

Finally in a fit of desperation, Ethel screwed up her courage to go introduce herself to the widow, whose name she didn't even know, and perhaps bring the conversation around to the source of the sounds. She didn't really have a plan, it was more like a desperate urge that couldn't be denied.

She was no longer in therapy -- her therapist had thrown up his hands in defeat several years before -- but she felt like she just had to talk with someone. The widow at least seemed approachable; they always nodded amiably when they saw each other getting their mail in the lobby, and from the sound of things, she must be quite experienced in kinky matters.

Before she could lose her resolve, Ethel gave herself a quick look in the mirror, freshened up her perfume, gargled some mouthwash, and took the stairs down to the floor below. She'd heard the widow go out earlier and then come back, so she was almost positive she was at home. She knocked briskly on the door and placed herself with a warm smile in front of the peep-hole. Her stomach was in a terrible knot, but she wanted to project a feeling of neighborly friendliness.

* * *

Margaret was a bit surprised when she heard the knock, as she wasn't expecting any visitors. Everyone in this building seemed to keep to themselves, with the exception of Will, who was still the only other tenant whom she knew by name. But, here at her door, was an actual neighbor, one whom she recognized from occasionally seeing her in the lobby. Would miracles never cease?

She flipped her bolt-lock and opened her door wide, giving the lady a friendly smile of recognition. Her neighbor spoke first, as if to justify her presence.

"Hello, I'm Ethel Watson from upstairs. In fact I live in the flat immediately above yours."

"Oh dear! I do hope we've not been making too much of a racket down here. But please come in won't you? I was just about to make some char, and it would be so nice to have you join me. I'm Margaret Higgins. As I suppose you know, I've only lived here for a few months. I'm so pleased to meet you."

Margaret was immaculately put together as usual. She had gone out to do some shopping earlier, and Will always insisted that she look her very best when out in public. She led her guest into her kitchen and bade her have a seat in the breakfast nook. She added another teabag to the teapot and put the kettle on to boil.

"I really must apologize for our noise. Sometimes we do get a bit carried away, and I know I'm rather vocal. I always worry that our playing sounds like domestic abuse and someone will sic the police on us. Last weekend a naughty couple who used to play with my husband and me came to visit, and I'm sure we were especially outrageous. I do apologize."

"Oh, it's not really about the noise, Margaret, though maybe it is, now that I think about it."

Ethel gave herself a little frown while she tried to sort out how to put things. She felt rather tongue-tied, especially in light of Margaret being so matter of fact.

"I mean to say, I'm not complaining about the noise at all. In fact I rather like the noise. How can I put this? I find it rather titillating and that's the problem. As time has gone on, I've found myself more and more aroused by it. I often like to read naughty stories in the evening and your noises help to enhance their effect. But the end result has been that I find myself constantly craving a spanking for all my naughty fantasies. It has been driving me crazy." Ethel paused a moment, trying to further order her thoughts.

"Well, how very lovely, Ethel. My dear neighbor Will writes delightfully smutty stories. In fact one of them helped win me over. He's quite clever that way. He writes them for this naughty amateur story site called "Littersmutica".

Ethel's jaw dropped and for a moment she just stared awkwardly at Margaret.

"B-but, that's where I find my favorite stories. I especially love the stories by an author who calls himself 'Jackobin'."

Margaret gave a little smile, almost to herself and replied, "Yes, they are splendid aren't they? I find them quite arousing myself. Will calls me his muse."

Ethel's pretty face blushed a bright red and beads of sweat broke out on her forehead. She tried to steady her nerves by taking a sip of tea, but her hands were shaking so badly that she almost dropped her cup. Without realizing it, Ethel had started squirming around in her seat, rocking back and forth and feeling all moist and flowy.

"You mean, no I mean, that is to say, your Will is 'Jackobin'?"

"The one and only! There, there, dear. You look like you've just seen a ghost."

Ethel's surprise and excitement was so great that she suddenly relaxed her urethral sphincter for a moment and helplessly felt a strong jet of urine fill her big cotton knickers and leak onto her seat. This was just terrible. Whatever would Margaret think of her? She momentarily thought of acting as if nothing had happened, but that would never do. She could smell the cooling puddle of urine in which she now sat and awkwardly stood up looking terribly embarrassed.

"Oh dear! I think I just peed myself. Either that or I just had the most spontaneous squirting orgasm of my life! How very humiliating."

"Well, we do rather fancy humiliation around here, don't we? Not to worry. Just take yourself over to the bathroom, and wring out your knickers in the sink and let them soak. We can attend to them later. I'll wipe up the little puddle on your seat. I'm sure we still have much to discuss!"

* * *

Ethel was all ears, as Margaret told her about her own former life with her dear husband, and now her new life with Will. She made it sound as if being a submissive was almost a calling, a deeply exciting and satisfying role to play, when it was with the right Dom and there was a foundation of love and understanding underneath it all. Ethel felt a yearning spread throughout her body, a kind of heat that suffused her.

Margaret sensed that Ethel was a kindred soul, also shy in her own way, and struggling to overcome her inhibitions. She carefully explained about sub space and the interplay of pain and pleasure. How what often sounded like or looked like painful physical torture was actually triggering endorphins within the sub that made it anything but. Yes, such pursuits were not without risks, which was why it was essential to know what one was doing and have things like "safe words" in place.

As they enjoyed their tea and biscuits, Ethel felt drawn by Margaret into the same cozy world that she had loved so much in Jackobin's stories. Things began to feel a little brighter somehow. Perhaps there really was a way for her to overcome her inhibitions and discover her true self. Maybe she was not doomed to a lonely existence, ever more afraid of intimacy and love. She was grateful that she had summoned the courage to knock on Margaret's door and open herself to the risks of friendship.

When tea time was over, the two women exchanged phone numbers and Margaret had suggested that Ethel sleep on all that they had discussed and tomorrow afternoon she would invite her to meet the mysterious "Jackobin" for tea and see what he had to say. Ethel felt a shiver go up her spine as she contemplated meeting Margaret's Master. Might he agree to give her the spanking that she so craved and felt she needed so desperately? She hoped that she would soon find out.

* * *

Margaret had plans to share dinner, and the night, with Will in his flat following her tea with Ethel. She savored the opportunity to surprise him with the news that one of "Jackobin's" biggest fans lived on the floor just above them. Not only that, but she was a big-bottomed neophyte who desperately craved a spanking and showed all the signs of a natural submissive just waiting to be trained.

As he often did, Will had assembled a quite decent meal from take-out offerings from Tesco, aided by a very nice Australian Pinot Noir. While they were finishing off the last of the wine, Margaret broached the subject of her tea with Ethel.

"Master, I had the most remarkable visit this afternoon from one of our neighbors on the floor above."

Will cocked an eyebrow in surprise.

"Really? I thought that nearly everyone in this building was intent on ignoring each other out of some warped sense of propriety."

"Yes, well, apparently not quite everyone. This was that lady with the enormous bum who you've remarked upon more than once."

"Oh, yes! I know just who you mean. I don't think I've ever seen a more spankable arse in my life, excepting yours of course!"

Margaret gave Will a loving smile. He was so sweet. He never failed to reaffirm his love for her.

"Well, Master, it turns out that she has been hearing all our naughty play sounds echoing in the airshaft through her bedroom windows and it has been driving her crazy!"

Will permitted himself a guilty look and looked at Margaret with a certain concern.

"I hope she is not going to complain to the building management about this, is she?"

"Hardly, Master! She says it excites her and make her almost unbearably horny. But here's the best part. Guess how she spends her evenings. She loves to read stories from Littersmutica!"

"What? You're pulling my leg!"

"No sir! I swear this is all true! And she confessed that her favorite stories are by an author with the nom de plume of 'Jackobin'!"

"Holy Shit!"

"Yes, Master. One of your biggest fans lives in the flat just above mine and she confessed that she desperately needs a spanking on her lovely big bottom!"

Margaret gave Will a sublime grin, as if she had just engineered the most salacious surprise possible. She was in a very excited state.

"And so my pet, where does this leave us? What did you tell her?"

"Master, I hope you don't mind. I told her that I would introduce her to 'Jackobin' tomorrow and see what you had to say. I hope that was alright."

"Yes, my pet. You did well. Very well, indeed. What an unexpected treat!"

Will reached out to Margaret and gave her an enveloping bear hug. She was such a sweetheart. He was so blessed to have her as his sub. And now she was bringing another budding subbie into their little loving world. Will gave her a deep tongue-entangling kiss and squeezed her to him. They melted into each other as if they were one creature. One passionate animal united in a heart-warming hug.

He looked forward to tomorrow and meeting Ethel with her impossibly big bottom in need of a powerful spanking.

* * *

Ethel had a hard time getting to sleep that night. She re-read two of her favorite stories -- the chapters in "The Widows Club" where Millie and Dotty had their pajama party and confessed their fantasies to each other -- but oddly, there were no sounds wafting up from below, though she had left her airshaft windows open. Perhaps the randy couple were saving it up for tomorrow? Usually Ethel brought herself to climax at least a couple times while reading her stories, but tonight she just edged herself to the brink and then pulled back. If Margaret and Will were saving it up, maybe she would, too. But she was so used to going to bed all sated from playing with herself, that skipping it for tonight just made her even hornier and she kept running different scenarios with "Jackobin" through her restless mind. Finally, she got some sleep around 3 a.m. and didn't wake up until nearly 11, well past the time she usually got up.

She showered to wake up and to make sure she was squeaky clean in all her private places. As she washed herself, she pondered what she should wear. What did one wear to a spanking? she wondered. A nice flowery dress, surely, and one not too long, so that it could be flipped up easily? Her nicest bra and knickers? No doubt. Thigh high nylons perhaps? It seemed like pantyhose would just be in the way, and a garter belt with suspenders and hose were rather a bother. Finally, an elegant pair of pumps to grace her feet if she found herself thrashing her legs around. She did want to make a good first impression on her favorite author.

As the day passed, Ethel found herself getting more and more anxious and keyed up. Margaret had called around Noon and had excitedly told her that "Jackobin" was looking forward to meeting Ethel. She suggested that Ethel bring along two or three of her favorite toys, "Just in case."

This suggestion stirred Ethel up in a way that she could barely handle. Here she was, about to meet her favorite smutty author, hopefully for a spanking, and he wished her to bring along her favorite toys? OMG! Where might this be heading? And what toys was she willing to call her favorites? She had quite a collection in her bottom dresser drawer. She'd splurged on them over the last decade, as she withdrew from real life contact, and enlarged her arsenal of erotic weapons.

She finally settled on her Hitachi Magic Wand -- always a winner, as far as orgasms went. Then her favorite butt-plug, a rather large black plug that started out small, but gradually forced itself into her rectum as a fulfilling fundamental stopper. Finally, she chose her rubber-coated vibrating dildo which filled her generous vaginal cavity perfectly, and when manipulated in and out of her hungry cunt, got her nice and juicy. Ethel felt so depraved as she assembled her toys and imagined being ordered to demonstrate their use. She had been craving a simple spanking, but she now realized that might be only the tip of the iceberg.

Finally, tea time arrived, though this time she found herself knocking at Will's door with her toys in a colorful tote bag. Margaret had indicated that this was the venue for her meeting with "Jackobin".

Margaret responded to her knocks, welcoming Ethel in, though only clad in her bra and a slip. This was apparently Margaret's default apparel for her naughty encounters with Will's visitors.

"Ethel! Please come in! So lovely to see you. I do hope that you will feel at ease and enjoy our hospitality. You can put your bag down there by the coffee table."

"Thank you, Margaret. I appreciate your inviting me to visit."

Ethel felt anxious and self-conscious, doing as she was told and peeking shyly at the silent older bearded gentleman, who was standing politely by the chair he had been seated in when she first entered. He gave her a warm grin while he watched her move around.

Margaret took Ethel's hand and brought her over to stand in front of Will.

"Master, this is the nice lady from upstairs who I told you about. Her name is Ethel Watson and she is a big fan of your stories!"