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Spanking Party Star entry ‘Miss Redbuns’

 

One last, great story from the ‘Spanking Party Star’ writing contest,’Miss Redbuns’ is an excellent way to end the month….enjoy.

– Dana

 

Miss Redbuns

My boss gave me two choices. My first option was, I could spend the day at work, in my usual 8 to 5 shift as his dutiful secretary, as I did every weekday throughout the year. My second choice was I could spend the day attending an annual spanking party, as his date, and get paid as I would for a normal workday. I didn’t have to think very long before telling Danny I’d be happy to accompany him to this “spanking party,” whatever it was.
What it was, was an annual gathering of spanking enthusiast business owners, who would get together for a luncheon at a banquet hall downtown. It was a great way to reconnect with old contacts and network, as most of the attendees were owners of spanking related business. My boss, Danny, is the CEO of Naughty Novelties, a company that produces adult toys for the BDSM crowd. He said the annual convention was a great way to meet new clients to increase ad revenue for the magazine. I saw the convention as a great way to get out of the office for a day and still get paid, so we all had our reasons for attending.
Now, I am no stranger to spanking. I am a little embarrassed to admit this, but, I get spankings. A lot. Danny made it very clear to me during my interview for the job, that one of his expectations of me was that I would have to submit to spankings whenever asked of me. It was a fantasy of his, for many years, to one day work in an office and have a young hottie for a personal secretary, to wear short skirts that she could give spankings to on a regular basis. I seemed to fit the bill for both my looks and attitude, so he hired me.
I figured, why not? The pay was great and I got to wear cute sexy clothes to work, so it seemed like a great gig. And to be totally honest with you, I actually kind of enjoyed the spankings. Sometimes I cried and put up a fuss, but if I really didn’t like them, I didn’t need to stay at that job. There was something I found a bit thrilling when Danny would call me into his office and order me to bend over his desk. I loved the adrenaline rush; the nervous sense of anticipation, as I placed my hands on his desk and stuck out my behind. And when he’d instruct me to lift my skirt, and lower my panties? That just added to the fun. I loved being able to feel the spankings that much better. Even if it made sitting a bit uncomfortable for the rest of the day.
By the way, my name’s Lea Kim. I’m 22 years old, Asian American, and I like music and dance. I have long black hair, a slim body and a round bubble butt. I’ve been told I’m very attractive with and without clothes. I’ve been a secretary at Naughty Novelties for six months, so this is my first year with the opportunity to attend the annual Belts and Bottoms Spanking Party.
Belts and Bottoms, a magazine that features spanking stories as well as advice for readers interested in the BDSM lifestyle, hosts this event every year. The event consists of a meet and greet, with hors d’oeuvres, a luncheon, a screening of some spanking videos submitted by guests, and finally, a spanking competition.
This competition involves female contestants getting spanked on stage in front of the entire party. Each girl is spanked ten times per round. The first round they are spanked by hand, the second round via paddle. Later other methods are implemented, each gradually more severe than the last. The girl who can withstand the most swats is crowned Miss Redbuns, and her company is featured prominently in the next quarter’s edition of Belts and Bottoms. This creates excellent publicity for Miss Redbuns’ place of employment, so naturally Danny was very adamant that I compete.
Not wanting to disappoint, I agreed, and signed my name onto the application form at the entrance of the banquet hall. I could sense the smiles of the gentlemen watching me as I signed. It was obvious they were eager to see a young pretty Asian girl get her bottom spanked. I was quite excited as well so it was likely to be a fun day.
I learned shortly after arriving that I had some stiff competition. Apparently, the title of Miss Redbuns had been won by the same girl the past six years in a row. Deanna Franklin was a spanking actress and model, and was therefore quite used to having her bottom smacked, paddled, belted and caned. I recognized her face from the copies of Belts and Bottoms that Danny let lying around the office. She was a tall leggy blonde, standing at the entrance of the banquet hall smiling and laughing with several of the guests. As I finished signing my name to the application form, she approached me.
“You’re new here?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said, extending my hand. “I’m Lea.”
“Deanna,” she said, shaking my hand. “You’re pretty brave doing this. You should be proud.”
“Thanks,” I said. Deanna picked up the pen and signed her name on the form in the slot below mine.
“You ever been spanked before, Lea?” Deanna asked, not looking up from the form.
“Yes,” I nodded. “By my boss. Lots of times.”
“Well, you’re in the big leagues now,” Deanna said. “Vincent is not kind when he’s wailing on you up there.”
I felt a chill go up my spine.
“Well, best of luck to you,” Deanna said, cheerfully. I gulped.
I spent the next hour making small talk with other guests at the party. Most of them were quite supportive, and gave me their best wishes in the spanking competition. I, on the other hand, was so nervous that when the luncheon was served, I couldn’t eat a bite! Danny gave me a reassuring pat on the butt and assured me it would be alright.
I did notice a delicious fondue pot was available. I helped myself to a few chocolate covered strawberries but that was all I could eat.
After dinner there was a screening of a few spanking videos. To my displeasure I saw a few of them featured Deanna Franklin. In one video, Deanna was dressed in a schoolgirl’s costume while a stern lady teacher thrashed her with a belt. Deanna held her poise for what seemed like an eternity, and never once begging for a reprieve.
“May I have your attention please?” Scott Hawkley, the emcee of the evening, took to the stage. He had a microphone in his hand and was dressed in a fine white vest and dress pants. “How’s everyone enjoying the fondue?”
A few cheers shot from the audience.
“We thought you’d like that. Well folks, it’s the moment you’ve all been waiting for, our annual spanking competition!”
The audience erupted in applause. Scott invited the contestants onto the stage. There looked to be about fifteen of us, all nervous and waiting our turns to be spanked. One by one, he read off our names and asked us to introduce ourselves. I stood nervously wringing my hands until finally, he got to my name.
“Lea Kim,” Scott said, reading off the application form. I stepped forward.
“Nice to see a fresh face this year,” Scott said. “Where do you work?”
“Naughty Novelties,” I said. The audience applauded.
“Ah, you work for good old Danny,” Scott said. “Our sympathies.”
The audience laughed. I let out a chuckle.
“Well Lea, we wish the best of luck to you,” Scott said. He finished introducing the other contestants, but I was so nervous I realized I didn’t even hear a word he said. Finally, he introduced the last girl, and was ready to begin.
“Here’s the rules, girls. Each of you gets a turn taking ten swats. If it gets too much for you, all you’ve got to do is say our special safe word, and you’ll be eliminated from the competition. Last girl standing will win the title of Miss Redbuns. In honor of the delicious condiment we’ve been served this afternoon, our safe word this year will be ‘fondue.’”
This got an applause from the audience.
“Are we ready to see some spankings?” Scott asked. The audience cheered.
“Then let the spanking competition commence!”
Scott called the first girl to come to his side. Her name was Allison, and Scott asked her to bend over. As she did, a large, muscular-in-a-handsome way man approached her. This was Vincent, the Designated Spanker. He would be giving all of us our spankings.
I watched with nervous excitement as Vincent smacked his palm across Allison’s bottom ten times. She squealed after each one, but when he was finished, she did not hesitate to return to her place in line, ready for the next round.
Vincent repeated this procedure with the next girl. And the next. And the next. Until finally it was my turn.
“Lea Kim,” Scott said. Nervously, I stepped forward. “Let’s see how this lovely newcomer fares.”
I took my place in the center of the stage and bent over. I rested my hands on my knees and waited. I didn’t have to wait long.
“Ye-owch!” I squealed. Vincent spanked me hard. I tired to hold my composure but he just kept smacking me, again and again, until he reached ten swats.
I cringed as I stood upright. I rubbed my bottom and took my place back in line. Vincent spanked much harder than Danny did. I hoped I wouldn’t have to cut out too early.
When it was Deanna’s turn, I watched with amazement as she held herself so gracefully. I couldn’t believe she could remain so calm and complacent. It was if she didn’t even feel it, and yet the sound of Vincent’s hand striking her buttocks was loud enough to be heard throughout the dining hall. After ten swats, Deanna shot a flirty glace at the crowd and returned to the lineup.
“All right, looks like all of our ladies survived the first round!” Scott declared. “Time to take this competition up a notch!”
Allison returned to center stage, and Scott instructed her to lift her dress. Allison did as she was told, and exposed her panty-covered bottom to the audience. This got many whoops and hollers from the crowd. Allison wore very pretty light blue panties, and her bottom looked quite firm and sexy. This did not stop Vincent from laying ten hard swats on her delicate bottom, causing her once again to squeal after each one. Even so, she rose to her feet and with as much dignity as she could muster returned to the line.
Vincent continued spanking the girls on top of their panties. One girl, a pretty young Italian girl named Gina, revealed she was not even wearing any panties underneath her flippy red dress. Consequently Gina gave the crowd a peek at her bare buns a bit earlier than the rest of us. She managed her spankings with grace, and returned to the lineup.
I felt my heart skip a beat when Scott called my name. Even so, I walked to the center of the stage and turned my back to the audience. I could sense their anticipation of seeing me lift my dress; there was a wave of baited silence.
“Well go on, darling, lift the dress,” Scott said, urging me on. I took a deep breath, and pulled up my dress.
I heard a few wolf whistles as I unveiled my lacy white panties to the crowd. The crowd was obviously enjoying the show. I bent forward and awaited my spankings. I felt my face heat up to what felt like three hundred degrees. I has never felt so exposed and vulnerable. Soon after, Vincent raised his palm, and smacked my panty-covered bottom ten times.
When he was finally done, I felt a tear dribble down my cheek and I returned to my feet. I kept my face away from the crowd and walked back to the line. For reasons I couldn’t explain, I felt more embarrassed by my pain than anything else. I didn’t want anyone to know I’d suffered.
Deanna handled herself with much more finesse when she was spanked on the seat of her pretty pink panties. She once again smiled and returned to the lineup as if he’d just given her a kiss rather than ten hard swats on her scantily-clad behind.
“Round three!” Scott announced. Allison was up again. Scott instructed her this time to not only lift her dress, but also to remove her panties. The crowd cheered as she slipped her sexy blue panties down her thighs and bent over. Her cheeks were already slightly pink, and Vincent looked eager to darken their hue.
Ten hard smacks to Allison’s bare bottom left her in tears, but still she returned to the lineup. The other girls reacted the same way, even Gina, who had her bottom spanked on the bare for the second time in this game.
Once again it was my turn. It seemed I was fast becoming a fan favorite, as the crowd cheered louder than ever when I lifted my dress and lowered my panties for my excited audience’s pleasure.
The spankings stung. Without my dress or panties for protection, my very sensitive cheeks had to bear the full brunt of Vincent’s smacks. I squealed and I cried, but I made it. I even got an applause from my growing fan base as I rose to my feet and pulled my panties back up over my stinging bottom.
“Round four!” Scott announced.
Vincent exited the stage, but soon returned with a sturdy wooden paddle. He gave an evil smile to Allison, who gasped as Vincent beckoned her towards him. “All right, lets see how these lovely ladies fair against the PADDLE!”
If being spanked by hand was terrifying, it was ten times worse when seeing a wooden paddle come smacking down against a pretty girl’s bottom. On the plus side, we at least got to remain fully dressed for the paddle, at least for this round.
I was in pure agony when the paddle struck my behind, which was still sore from the previous spankings. However I absolutely did not want to be the first girl to be eliminated. I thought that would be embarrassing both for myself and for Danny, so I was determined to hold out. Unfortunately, it seemed most of the other girls felt the same way. Each of them looked ready to quit, but the look in their eyes told me they had no intention of doing so.
Round five saw the first elimination. Poor Janie was only on the fourth stroke of the paddle on the seat of her panties when she cried out “fondue.”
“Good effort Janie!” Scott said, crossing Janie’s name off the list. One down, fourteen to go. I watched as Janie rubbed her bottom as she returned to the audience, softly crying.
Soon after, Gina also said the safe word, no doubt regretting her decision for forgo her panties in a spanking competition. I managed to refrain from saying the safe word, tempted though I was, when I felt the burn of the paddle against my panty-covered bottom in round five. I took short, deep breaths, and tried to tune out the pain, just as I did all those times when I was bent over Danny’s desk.
It occurred to me, at that moment, that all those spankings Danny gave me weren’t just to punish me for being an imperfect secretary. Danny was training me. I realized I wasn’t the beginner I thought I was. I had just as much, if not more experience than most of these other girls. I actually had a chance.
Round six saw four eliminations, bringing the total down to nine. Being paddled on the bare bottom wasn’t something a lot of girls could handle, it seemed. Deanna was handling herself just fine, though. She seemed her usual perky self in spite of the increasing reddening color forming across her cheeks.
“Round seven!” Scott announced. The nine remaining girls gasped as Vincent appeared onstage carrying a long black leather belt. He cracked it loudly, making several of us jump. He smiled at Allison and invited her to take her place.
Everyone made it through round seven, in spite of the squeals and cries. We lost one girl in eight and one in nine, leaving seven girls remaining for round ten, when Vincent entered the stage carrying a sturdy wooden cane.
“It’s come to this folks, round ten, and with seven girls remaining!” Scott said. “We’ve never had this many girls this late in the game, so this is sure to be a tense round!”
I stopped to think, deciding perhaps this was the round to call it quits. I was clearly up against some fierce competition if it was unusual for this many girls to remain for this many rounds. I watched in anticipation as Allison bent over for her caning.
WHACK!
Allison squealed. Vincent caned her again, and again, until after four strokes, Allison eeked out a quiet “fondue.”
The audience applauded, and a tearful Allison returned to her table. Six left. The next girl, a sultry brunette named Mandy, dropped the safe word after one stroke. To my shock and horror, the next girl and the next girl gently excused herself from the competition until it was finally my turn.
“Good luck,” Deanna whispered to me, smiling. I felt a chill go up my spine.
“Well, let’s see if lovely Lea can survive a round with the cane,” Scott said. “Show us what you’ve got!”
I leaned forward, thanking my lucky stars that I didn’t have to remove any clothing for this round and waited.
WHACK!
I screamed. I’d never been caned like this before, and it was worse than any other implement I’d ever gotten. I wondered how even a girl like Deanna could tolerate such an unfathomable amount of pain.
WHACK!
I screamed again. My bottom felt like it was on fire. I waited and prayed. I knew that if I could survive this round, than maybe, just maybe, I could win by attrition. I had to. No one else could tolerate this, I was sure of it!
WHACK!
And I wasn’t sure if I could. I screamed, and I wailed. But I didn’t give up. He caned me again and again, and soon each whack blended into the next. Before I knew it, I had made it to ten.
“Let’s give her a hand, that was incredible!” Scott said. I got a heavy applause, and took my place in line. As I did, Deanna whispered to me again.
“Now let me show you how it’s done,” Deanna said.
Now I saw what Deanna’s game was about. She wasn’t braver or stronger than the rest of us. She just knew how to psych us out. I could tell by the tremor in her voice she was petrified at the thought of going through what she had just witnessed me endure. So I shot back at her:
“You don’t have to do this just to impress me.” The look on Deanna’s face told me everything I needed to know. I could beat her. All I had to do was make her believe nothing would stop me, and she would fold.
Round ten saw the exit of every girl but me and Deanna. She tolerated each strike of the cane, but I could tell she was getting frustrated at not being able to get inside my head.
“Your turn,” she said, returning triumphantly from her ten licks, and I knew that with so many other girls eliminated, my next turn was going to come much sooner.
“She made ten on top of her dress, but can our beautiful newcomer handle a caning on top of her panties? Let’s find out!” Scott said.
I lifted my dress and bent forward, groaning as I did. I had to think of something that would give me an edge. Something that would help me better my chances of winning.
WHACK!
I squealed. The crowd cheered. And as if a light had gone on over my head, I realized what I needed to do. Deanna may be the reigning champion, but I could win the crowd’s favor over her.
“Wait,” I said, holding out my hand.
“Uh oh,” Scott said. “Is our newcomer ready to back out?”
“On the contrary,” I said. I slipped off my panties and kicked them into the crowd. Several men fought over them until one man grabbed them and stuffed them into his suit jacket. “I don’t need these.”
I shot a smile at Deanna. Scott’s eyes went wide.
“Wow! Our newcomer is showing our queen how its done! This will be a match to remember, folks!”
I bent over once again, and invited Vincent to continue. I had to hope that this would make me more intimidating to Deanna, but I feared I might have just sealed my fate.
WHACK!
Vincent caned me again, and I cried out in agony. Still, I held my ground, doing everything in my power to avoid spoiling my bluff. I thought I might possibly be able to endure one more round, but after this, I was done. If this didn’t win it for me, Deanna could keep her crown.
But I could not quit yet. I would look stupid if I quit in the same round as the stunt I just pulled, so I had that to motivate me. Just one more round.
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
I held back my squeals. I had to look strong. Simply knowing I was almost done seemed to give me a bit of strength. I endured five more hellish strikes of the cane, and let the crowd admire my bruised bottom before taking to my feet.
“I’ve never seen anything like this folks, not in the twelve years of hosting this event,” Scott said. “This girl’s got guts!”
I got a huge applause. I put on the best fake smile I could, and walked back towards Deanna.
“You were saying?” I asked, smugly.
It took everything in me to maintain my demeanor. I was ready to burst into tears, but I couldn’t. Not yet. I couldn’t even enjoy watching the fear in Deanna’s eyes as she returned to her place on the stage, ready for ten more licks on the cane.
Not to be outdone, Deanna slid off her panties, and tossed them into the crowd just as I had. I had to laugh at her copycat gesture, a desperate move on her part. She bent over, and I saw the horrendous bruising on her soft, supple cheeks. I knew that my own bottom couldn’t have looked much different.
WHACK!
Deanna held back a scream, but I could see her tremble.
WHACK!
Tears dribbled from her eyes. She tried to turn away, so I wouldn’t see her, but I still could.
WHACK!
Deanna was sobbing. Everyone could hear it. She wanted that crown so badly. But she was not prepared to go against the likes of me.
WHACK!
She let out a scream. Vincent stopped. He waited. A noise in Deanna’s mouth was forming. She was trying to say something. She cried. Hearing only muffled cries, Vincent caned her again.
WHACK!
“Fondue!” Deanna screamed.
“We have a winner!” Scott declared.
The next few moments were a blur. I heard applause. Everyone was cheering for me. Danny joined me on stage. Scott placed a tiara on my head.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present, Lea Kim, our new Miss Redbuns!”
Only then, did I cry.
I could barely sit. The car ride back to the office was uncomfortable and painful, but Danny could not stop smiling.
“You did it! I knew it!” Danny kept saying over and over.
“Thanks,” I said, too exhausted to speak any more. I stared out the car window at the starry night sky and let my tired eyes drift shut.
“You’re going to be famous! Our company is going to be famous!” Danny said. I nodded in appreciation.
“I sure hope so,” I muttered.
“About time somebody took that crown away from Deanna,” Danny said, chuckling.
I sighed.
“Well she can have it back next year if she wants it so bad,” I said. “No more for me.”
Danny shook his head.
“Aww, we’ll see.”
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‘Expecting the Inevitable’ F/F spanking story

 

Readers,

Here is another of the noteworthy entries to last month’s ‘Spanking Party Star’ writing contest. I know you’ll love ‘Accepting the Inevitable.’

– Dana

 

 

Accepting the Inevitable

 

She said that I would be getting spanked tonight in the main room. Not because I had done anything wrong, simply because she wanted to spank me there. When all my protests boiled down to “but I’ll be embarrassed” she gave me that look, the one that said she’d heard me and it wasn’t that she didn’t care, it was simply that her will was overruling my own in this matter.

 

So here I was trying to unobtrusively wander the room hoping that in all the excitement of having new playmates and all her various other spankees wandering around and all of them more than willing to go over her lap, she forget about the spanking she wanted to give me.

 

I was, of course, attired exactly as I’d been instructed because much as I didn’t want her to spank me in public at all, I certainly didn’t want her giving me a punishment spanking instead of the “just because” one she’d decided on. I wore a thong because the rules of public play at this event required one for bare bottomed spankings. Over the thong I wore a pair of the full-cut panties she preferred because she had informed me that she still wanted to enjoy the moment of removing them, despite the event’s modesty rules. Otherwise I was wearing my own regular clothes of jeans and a t-shirt since I’d been told to otherwise dress in a manner that was comfortable for me. She wanted me uncomfortable for other reasons tonight.

 

I have to admit it was a fun party and I’d enjoyed watching the antics of everyone else there. The first night there’d been a school based event with many of the bottoms dressing like school children in uniforms or naughty approximations thereof and everyone who wasn’t “in uniform” got pulled into the play anyway for being out of uniform so no one’s bottom had gone unsmacked if they didn’t want it to. There had been a lot of laughter and teasing and pranks played as everyone was a little bit silly. The spankers had all been dressed as headmasters and mistresses to make the play all the more fun.

 

The implement demonstration booths had been going strong both nights and there was no shortage of people volunteering to demonstrate how implements worked. There was also no shortage of people volunteering their own bottoms to be used for these demonstrations. It was a convivial atmosphere with slaps and smacks against bottoms echoing through the place non-stop as spankings happened just about everywhere.

 

But that didn’t mean I wanted my bottom to be on the receiving end of any such treatment. Not in public anyway. It would have been fine in the hotel room and had been last night, when we were away from the crowd but this was…no longer a matter for discussion.

 

And at that moment, she looked up and saw me, making eye contact from across the room. She smiled warmly and a little teasingly as she crooked her finger at me in a clear command for me to cross the room to her. I sighed and reluctantly trudged across the room like a condemned person going to the gallows.

 

When I reached her, I stopped at exactly the respectful distance I’d been taught and kept my eyes on her face. She said she didn’t like having her bottoms staring at the floor as it gave their minds too much time to wander. She wanted us to watch her face and pay attention to what she was saying, even when it was nonverbal. The expression on her face now was thoughtful as she read my body language in return.

 

“I think before we begin you will do five minutes in the corner, missy.” Such a short span of time wasn’t really punishment to me and she knew it. Corner time of that duration was most useful to me as a focusing tool, giving me time to achieve a proper mindset. Of course, it worked best when I was given a thought to focus on as well and she knew that too. “While you are there, think very hard on which one of us in charge of deciding when, where, and why you are spanked. Can you do that?”

 

I nodded and respectfully said, “Yes, ma’am.”

 

She looked very sternly at me. “What are you to do?” She prompted.

 

“I’m to think about which of us is in charge, ma’am.”

 

“In charge of what?” She prompted.

 

I blushed. I hated saying the word but knew what she wanted. “In charge of deciding when, where, and why I’m s-spanked, ma’am.” I stuttered the word.

 

She nodded. “Five minutes then. Over there.”  She pointed to a nearby corner, conveniently empty as though she had planned this, which she probably had. “Hands behind your back.”

 

I nodded and moved silently to place my nose in the corner, clasping my hands together behind my back and standing still.

 

I began focusing my thoughts on what I’d been instructed to think about, reminding myself that I’d consented to have her in charge and that she was the one who had final say on all spankings. It was calming and helped me slip into the proper mindset, the one that submitted to her will and accepted that when it came to spankings, she knew what was best for me.

 

I was so into the comforting space of my own mind I almost missed feeling her hand touch my shoulder giving me the signal that my time was up and I could come out. I took a moment to regroup my thoughts before I turned, which gave her time to reseat herself comfortably and be ready for me.

 

I went to her in a more accepting frame of mind. I still wasn’t completely willing to be spanked in public but I was willing to submit to her and accept what she deemed proper. That was all that was required of me in this moment.

 

Her hands reached out and unbuttoned my jeans, undoing the zipper then sliding them down to my knees. She gently took my upper arm to help guide me over her lap helping me get situated so that we were both comfortable with my position.

 

Her hand slid over the panties, tugging at the edges of them, smoothing them out and giving my bottom little gentle pats. Not firm enough to sting but just enough that I knew she was preparing to start. Then she began.

 

It was clear from the beginning that even though this spanking was just because, she was not playing around. The sharp crack! of her palm meeting my bottom echoed around the room causing more than one head to turn. The sting of it was immense and though I blushed to think about the audience we’d surely attract with all this noise, I didn’t have long to dwell on the matter as the stinging in my bottom built rapidly.

 

I tried to stay still and quiet but it became readily apparent that she had no intention of letting me be so. When I stayed taciturn past the point where I’d normally be squirming and yelping and wriggling just a little bit to get away, she moved her spanks from my bottom to my upper thighs drawing a startled yelp out of me as I began squirming involuntarily.

 

She laughed and kept it up until my thighs were bright red and all thoughts of staying still and quiet had left my head. I was squirming enough now that she’d put her other arm around my waist to help keep me on her lap. It was a relief when she returned her igniting smacks to my bottom, leaving my poor thighs alone.

 

When she stopped for a moment, running her hand over my panty clad bottom, I briefly thought that maybe she’d taken pity on me and we were done. I knew I was wrong a moment later when I felt her hands slip into the waistband of my panties and begin slowly tugging them down.

 

She enjoyed this moment in any spanking and she drew it out every chance she got. Now, with an audience and me still wriggling slightly on her lap, red bottomed and red faced, she took her time. It felt like an eternity could have passed in the time it took her to ease the panties one centimeter at a time down my stinging cheeks, her fingers whispering teasingly over my hot bottom. When she reached the point where the panties were resting at the base of my bottom, just uncovering my sit spot, she resumed with her hand.

 

She didn’t have to spank nearly as hard now because that brief pause had been just enough time for my bottom to recover to the point of sensitivity and even though she wasn’t going all out anymore, I still felt every single impact like a thousand ants had just bitten my bottom. And just when I thought maybe, maybe we were about done, her hand took hold of the panties one more time and pulled them low enough to leave my sit spots open.

 

She took advantage of that immediately, focusing all her attention on that under curve where bottom and thigh meet, making sure that I’d be feeling this spanking well into tomorrow and maybe even the next day. The hard spanks she placed here ensured that every time I sat, every time I moved and my jeans rubbed against this area, I’d be reminded that I’d been well and truly spanked.

 

Then, just as I was sure I couldn’t take any more, it was over.

 

I could feel her satisfaction in this whole process emanating from her. She was clearly pleased with the job she’d done, running her hand proprietarily over my reddened bottom and thighs, feeling the heat rising off them. She pulled my panties up deliberately not being careful so that they rasped against my swollen and sensitive bottom and helped me stand up.

 

I ached to pull my jeans up, well aware that though we hadn’t attracted a large crowd, there were still several onlookers nearby who’d stopped to watch the show we’d put on. But I knew better than to do so without permission.

 

She smiled at me as I fought to keep from trying to rub the sting away and did my best to will the redness in my face to subside at least a little as there was nothing I could do about my bottom.

And finally, finally, she gave me permission to pull my jeans up, watching nonchalantly as I hurriedly yanked them up, wincing as they scraped into contact with my bottom, and regretting my haste as soon as they were on since they immediately trapped the heat and made my bottom burn all the more. But once they were up I stood in the appropriate spot facing her, watching her face. Watching her as she studied me.

 

Her smile was genuinely pleased as she looked me over. “There now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

 

I considered this question and realized that no, it hadn’t been nearly as bad as I’d thought. Embarrassing, to be sure, but not anywhere near the level I’d been anticipating ever since she’d told me her intention and I admitted it ruefully, “No, ma’am, that wasn’t so bad.”

 

She beamed at me for my honest admission and despite the burning in my bottom, I felt great. She was pleased with me and that alone made me feel pleased with myself.

 

She tapped her finger against her cheek and I obediently leant over and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for my spanking, ma’am.”

 

“You, missy, are more than welcome. Now,” she grasped my arm and turned me towards the rest of the room, “Go play!” And with a firm smack to propel me forward, she sent me back out into the main play area.

 

When I glanced back several feet later, she already had another lucky soul over her lap, though the brush in her hand told me that whoever it was certainly wasn’t getting off with just a simple hand spanking.

 

I smiled to myself and was just glad it wasn’t me…this time.

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Spanking PSA : The State of Your Underpants

 

Didn’t your mother tell you to always wear clean underwear, in case you’re ever in an accident?

(Mine did, although I think it was a joke, and I never really understood why one would care about the state of one’s underpants in case of emergency anyway. But let’s move on.)

I’ll issue a little disclaimer here and state that this post is mostly for the fellas, as I’ve yet to encounter a situation with any of my female playmates where this conversation would be warranted. Call it a feminine consumer culture, vanity, or simply attention to detail, but ladies never need to be told the following :

“Those underwear are atrocious. You should be ashamed to even own them, much less wear them out of the house.”

In my capacity as Spanker of Many Fun Fellas, I’ve had cause to utter this statement on numerous occasions. But I haven’t.

Why?

Well, I’m not quite sure that Miss Manners covered the subject, and I cannot find a single ‘Dear Abby’ column which handles it, either. And while I’m happy to scold, fuss, and giggle at your discomfort, humiliation isn’t really my thing. I could never say :

“You filthy, stinky pig! Look at the state of your underpants – they’re disgusting. You’re disgusting. Go wash them in the toilet immediately…with your face” (or something. Told you I’m bad at this.)

I also haven’t been able to find a fun/funny way to do it, either…

“Say there, Mr. Cutie Pie, but these tighty-whities are no longer tight. Or white.”

If it were me, any approach that someone took which eventually led to them telling me that my panties were icky would result in immediate and immense mortification. I’d imagine that this would be the case with almost anyone, wouldn’t it?

So you see my conundrum. Continue to be too tactful and/or puritanical to say anything personally to those who need to do a little shopping, and suffer the sight of poor underpants held onto much too long…

…or post something silly and funny here and hope that EVERY MAN who reads this takes a moment today to sift through his drawers and do away with anything that could be mistaken for the Shroud of Turin.

 

With much love and sincere pleading,

The Girl Who Sees Your Underpants

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‘Richard’s Humiliating Spanking at the Party’

 

 ‘Richard’s Humiliating Spanking at the Party’ is another really excellent F/M entry to the ‘Spanking Party Star’ writing contest . Enjoy!

–  Dana

 

 

Richard’s Humiliating Spanking at the Party

by Richard

Jennifer and I have been married for over twenty years.  As time went on, our relationship evolved.  Jennifer became more dominant and I became submissive.  Eventually, we introduced spanking into our repertoire.  Most of our spanking sessions were “playful” and typically included sex.  However, on occasion, when my behavior hasn’t met Jennifer’s expectations, she has administered a punishment spanking.  These are severe and do make sitting uncomfortable for a day or so.  They have definitely modified my behavior.  Now, when she says jump, I jump.  Or suffer the consequences.

 

Every few weeks, the girls in the neighborhood get together for a “girls night in” party and the other night it was at our house.  Jennifer asked, which in our relationship means told me that she wanted me to be the waiter for the evening.  I said “there is a game on that night that I was looking forward to watching.”

 

“Too bad.  You will be our waiter and I expect you to be a good one.”

 

So, while my attitude for the evening wasn’t very good, I did what I was told.  I greeted the girls as they arrived, served them drinks, passed around snacks, and generally behaved as a good waiter.  In between serving, I just sat in the room and sulked because I couldn’t watch the game.  The girls just chatted about things that were of absolutely no interest to me.  I was totally bored.

 

And then something got my interest, the girls themselves.  There were eight all together and some of them were drop dead gorgeous.  Long suntan legs and short skirts that were riding up high on their thighs.  I am definitely a leg man.  My undoing.

 

I was looking across the room at Sue, a definite milf.  And after having a few drinks, her legs started to part.  I couldn’t help myself.  I looked up her skirt and stared at her blue panties,  I was mesmerized by the panties and what it would be like to roam inside them.  I was so engaged in my fantasy that I was totally oblivious to my surroundings.  That is until I heard Judy, the neighborhood bitch, yell “Richard!  What are you doing?  Are you looking up Sue’s skirt?  Shame on you.”

 

I was mortified.  “Ah.  Ah.  Ah.” I stammered.  But it was too late.  The room was silent.  And the red started at my neck and went up my entire face.  I was totally embarrassed and humiliated.  Jennifer, on the other hand, was furious.

 

“Richard!  Is that true?  Don’t deny it.  That red face and bulge in your pants tells the entire story.  How could you embarrass me in front of all my friends.  You will pay for this and I mean right now.  Girls, I have to apologize for Richard’s behavior.  I hope what I am going to do won’t embarrass you.  But Richard needs to be punished immediately for his outlandish behavior.”

 

“Richard, go and get the bath brush.”

 

“Jennifer.  Please don’t do this.  At least please don’t do this now.  Not in front of these women.”

 

You should have thought of that before you decided to look up a woman’s skirt.  Now go and get the brush before things get worse for you.”

 

I got up and headed for the bedroom where we keep the bath brush.  It is a solid wooden brush with a long handle.  We had just purchased it a couple of days prior.  After making the purchase, Jennifer gave me a few swats just to test it out.  They hurt. I couldn’t imagine what she was going to do now that she was so angry.  And in front of all the neighborhood women.  How was I going to walk down the street and see them after being spanked by Jennifer in front of them.  And what if they tell their husbands?  I’ll be the laughing stock.  But I knew I didn’t have a choice but to take what Jennifer decides.

 

When I returned to the room, it suddenly went quiet.  I assume Jennifer told them what she intended.  I walked up to Jennifer and handed her the bath brush.

 

“Well Richard.  What do you have to say for yourself?  Apologize to Sue.”

 

I turned to look at Sue.  “Please forgive me Sue.  I was looking up your skirt.  A gentleman would never do that to a lady.  I apologize and deserve to be punished.”

 

Sue said “I’ll wait to see how well you take your punishment before I tell you if I accept your apology.  If you accept your punishment, I’ll accept your apology.  But your punishment will continue until I am satisfied.”

 

Jennifer then said “okay Richard.  Let’s get started.  Stand in the middle of the room and remove your pants.”

 

“What?  No please Jennifer.  I’m too embarrassed to do that in front of our friends.  Please don’t make me do it.”

 

“You saw Sue’s panties.  It’s only right for everyone to see your shorts.  Drop those pants now!”

 

I had no choice.  As my face turned red again, I slowly removed my pants and stood in the middle of the room.

 

“Bend over and grab your ankles and look at Sue.  I want her to see how you respond to your punishment.”

 

As I bent over facing Sue, Jennifer stood behind me and swung the brush.  Whack! Whack! Whack!  Three quick smacks broke the silence.  And these weren’t the fun swats from a few nights ago.  These were punishment swats and they hurt.

 

“How does that feel Richard?  Was it worth seeing Sue’s panties?  We’ll see.” Whack! Whack! Whack!  Three more quick ones.  And the girls began to giggle.  I’m not sure what was worse, the pain in my ass or the humiliation I was suffering in front of the girls.

 

“This isn’t enough.  Those shorts are offering too much protection.” With that, Jennifer put her hands in the waistband of the shorts and pulled them down below my ass.  “Now you will be able to watch as his ass turns from white to pink to red or worse.”

 

I couldn’t believe what was happening.  My naked ass was there for them to see.  I knew I would never think of me the same way again.  I would always be the sissy who is dominated by his wife.

 

Whack!  Whack!  Whack!  Three more on the naked ass.  Those hurt so much more.

 

Now the girls started to comment.  “Look at his ass.  It is turning red.    I love it.  Keep going Jennifer.  He deserve a lot more than that.”

 

And a lot more I got.  Jennifer hit me twenty times before she stopped.  My ass was sore and starting to heat up. I wondered how many more she would give me.  I was ready to be done.  Was I ever mistaken.

 

“Okay girls.  Who wants to be next?”

 

Next?  It isn’t bad enough that Jennifer is spanking me in front of them.  Now she is going to let another girl use the brush. I thought about protesting but knew it would be useless.  Jennifer was on a mission.  I knew this was going to be the worst punishment spanking I had ever received.

 

“How about you Paula?  Do you want to go next?”

 

“I don’t know.  I’ve never spanked anyone before.”

 

“Well it’s time you did.  You’ll find out just how much fun it can be.  You may even like it enough to spank your husband when he misbehaves.”

 

“Okay.”  And with that Paula took the brush, took a stance and swung.

 

Swat.  Swat.  Her hits were very light.

 

“That will never do.  Swing hard and hit his ass like you mean it.”

 

Swat.  Swat.  Swat.  Three more hits that were harder but no where near Jennifer’s.

 

“Those love taps don’t count.  Swing really hard.  If you don’t we may just have to give you a few so you know what hard swats feel like.”

 

Well I guess that was enough incentive for Paula to really get into it.  Whack!  Whack!  Whack!  And those really hurt.

 

“That’s it.  Now you are getting into it.  Give him a total of twenty.  And she did.

 

“Okay girls.  Now you see how it is done.  Richard.  Now it is your turn to choose a girl.  Crawl on your knees to the girl of your choice, hand her the bath brush and ask her to please apply twenty very hard swats on your naked ass.  But we will save Suefor last.”

 

Could things get worse?  Now I had to ask the girls to give me a hard spanking with the brush on my very sore naked ass.  I didn’t know how many more girls would have a turn.  So I decide to choose Karen, the smallest girl there.  Boy was that a mistake.  I didn’t realize it but Karen works out in the weight room four days a week.  Her swats were harder than Jennifer’s.  And they brought tears to my eyes.  I didn’t know how much more I could take.

 

“Okay Richard.  Choose your next girl.”  And so it went until there were only two girls remaining, Sue and Judy, that neighborhood bitch that caught me.  Judy is a big woman.  Somewhat overweight and, in my opinion, a slob.  We’ve never gotten along.  If it was her legs that were spread, I would have never gotten in trouble.

 

“That leaves Sue and Judy.  Crawl over to Judy and ask her paddle you ass.”

 

Dreading every second, I did as I was told and crawled over to Judy.  “Judy.  Please use this bath brush and apply twenty very hard swats to my naked ass.” I couldn’t believe I was asking this woman to do this to me.  But I did it.

 

“Well Richard, these girls don’t really know how to swing a hair brush.  But I do.   I used to have a sissy boyfriend and there was many a night that he slept at the foot of my bed with an ass that radiated heat form the spanking that I delivered.  Crawl into the middle of the room, stay on your knees and touch your head to the floor.”

 

I did as instructed.  I knew this was going to be bad but I had no idea just how bad.  She straddled my body facing my ass and gripped my body with her legs so I couldn’t move.  And then she swung.  Whack!  Whack!  I couldn’t believe the pain as she swung.  Maybe it was because she was working on a super sore ass, but her swats were worse than Jennifer’s have ever been.  I couldn’t help it.  I screamed when she hit me.  By the fifth I was in tears.  By the twentieth, I could barely catch my breath I was sobbing so badly.  I was a sobbing mess with an ass that had passed the point of red.

 

At this point, Jennifer stepped in.  “Well Sue, since you were the offended party, I was going to let you give Richard as many swats as you thought he deserved.  But, after Judy did such a marvelous job, I don’t think her can take anymore.  So, rather than spanking him now, I will give you a rain check.  At some time in the future, you can ask Richard to bring out the bath brush and you can give him a many swats as you like on his naked ass.  And you can do it any where you choose and in front of anyone you  choose.  Is that okay with you?”

 

“Yes Jennifer.  It is.  With the state of Richard’s ass right now, I don’t think he would get the full effect that I would like to deliver.  Plus, I really like the idea that I can punish Richard on his naked ass whenever I want and in front of whoever I want.  And I think I know the perfect situation.”

 

“Okay Richard.  Seems as though Sue is going to let you off tonight.  But I can’t wait to see what she has in store for you in the future.  Now, to finish you punishment, you need some corner time.  When you are not serving us, you are to stand in the corner with your ass exposed.  Now thank Sue for not paddling you tonight.”

 

I was barely able to crawl over to Sue.  And with tears streaming down my face and between uncontrollable sobs I managed to say “Thank you Sue for having mercy on my very sore ass.  And I want to apologize again for looking up your skirt.”

 

“Apology accepted.”

 

And that is the story of my party spanking.  A few days latter, when the pain and bruising started to subsided, I began to fantasize about what Sue had in store for me.  But that’s another story.

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Totally Unrelated to Spanking : Random Feel-Good-Ness

 

None of us thinks about the same thing all the time, thank goodness. I, like most of you, spend a bit of time engaging in things which are absolutely unrelated to spanking (although I try to keep it to a minimum), and sometimes enjoy things which are totally useless and nonsensical.

Since we could all of us use more silliness in our lives, I’ve added a few things below which you might enjoy…

 

First, one of our most revered singer/songwriters, the amazing Dolly Parton. Even folks who don’t care for country and western music would have a hard time finding something bad to say about this talented and funny woman, and after seeing this video I love her even more: 

 

Next, a somewhat older video, but one that never fails to make me laugh hysterically and inappropriately. If you need me to explain why this video is hilarious, then you’ve not looked closely enough…

 

 

And finally, this guy, who’s just awakened from anesthesia following surgery and doesn’t recognize his wife of many years…

 

 

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‘The Boomerang Effect Times Two’ EDITED

 

The ‘Spanking Party Star’ writing contest turned out a lot of really good stories, and this one’s no exception. Enjoy ‘The Boomerang Effect Times Two’!

–  Dana

“THE BOOMERANG EFFECT TIMES TWO”
Even at my very worst, I never expect to lose, so what in the world could have gone wrong last night, and where exactly did I mess up??? First let me start off by telling you that I am currently in my room at the Ramada Inn, soaking in a tub filled with Epsom salt to help heal my injuries. Yes my backside is lit up like a Christmas tree, but that’s just the least of my concerns. I’ve been spanked plenty of times before but never like this. By now I’m sure the video has gone viral, and there is nothing that I can do about it. The good thing is that I’m still alive, the bad thing is that I’d rather be dead than be humiliated the way I was, but I suppose I had it coming. I guess I should start from the beginning. As everyone may or may not know their are only two guilty pleasures that Mr. CM loves to partake in. A good spanking whether giving or receiving and a hot woman, whether giving or receiving. And for the past eight years I have had my share of both. Primarily with Javier and Sylvia, my good friends..correction ex-friends that I often played with. We were true blue Philly Spankos…attending various parties around the city when time allowed. Thru them I was able to connect with spankos from all over the East Coast. But of course my insatiable appetite for hot women led me to have a secret affair with Sylvia, and Javier was left in the dark completely. I did feel bad initially but the sex was incredible and I couldn’t help myself.
I realized of course that this affair could not go on, and eventually I tried to pull away but Sylvia wouldn’t have it! She told me that, I was the best lover that she ever had, and that there was no need to spoil a good thing. She promised to never tell Javier. Even so I decided to end it, but I had to do it spur of the moment so that Sylvia couldn’t talk me out of it. I called her last night before the annual Dark Horse Dominas Bash. I told her that the affair was over and that I was telling Javier the truth. “No you can’t do that“…she said in a hostile voice, “it will destroy my marriage“. “Sylvia, I’m sorry but this has to be done“….”I can’t take the deception anymore“. With that, I was confident that no matter what happend, I would atleast have that burden lifted off my chest. The Dark Horse Dominas Bash is an annual gathering of local Dominas and their house slaves, as well as kinky couples, and specially invited singles. It’s a celebration of the Dominas in all their glory. And yours truly was an invited guess of Domina Charmin Brown.
I arrived late as usual and found the event to be spirited as always…the drinks were flowing, and a few asses were glowing. A good start to a more than memorable night. I decided that I would wait until after the Bash to tell Javier the sad truth of things. No need to ruin the night early. I mingled with a few old friends and had a few drinks when I saw Javier come towards me. He looked rather happy, almost cocky as he smurked and asked me to go with him to a private back room. “Javier what’s up”..I asked him. “Just come back here with me right now!”…he replied. Not sure what to expect when I got to the back room, I found Sylvia their waiting. “What’s going on”…I asked again. He smiled devilishly at me, and said,..”Sylvia told me everything, and wow I can’t believe it, I mean I’m shocked and honored at the same time..after 8 years, you actually want to be collared and owned by us as are submissive”. “WHAT!”…”and you want to do it here in front of everyone at the Bash”. Damn Sylvia told him that garbage and this idiot actually believes it. But before I had a chance to even tell the truth, someone came from behind me and covered my mouth with a rag, and what smelled of chloroform. When I came to I was totally out of it, but quickly came to realize what was going on. I had been stripped completely naked, and was strapped down over a spanking horse. I couldn’t speak due to the ball gag in my mouth. I had been set up by Sylvia and there was nothing I could do about it…my worst nightmare had come true. The entire gallery of people at the Bash were all watching as Sylvia shouted..”look, our sub is finally awake everyone”..there was a lot of laughter after that and the finally crowning took place. Javier and Sylvia officially collard me and made me their sub. As the crowd began to applause, I noticed the cameras in the gallery. They were actually filming the whole thing. I was mortified, how could this happen to me, I had to escape somehow. Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, Javier appeared with his infamous leather “POPPI PADDLE”. I had seen him use it on many men and women in the past, but now it was me on the receiving end. “Now it’s time for me to officially light up my new subs backside with my POPPI PADDLE”…the entire place cheered with joy and laughter…”since my sub has some balls in his mouth, you will all have to count for him”..WHACK!..”One”…WHACK!..“Two”…WHACK!..”Three”. I screamed in pain but only a murmur came thru. I received 20 whacks from Javier and another 20 from Sylvia. And now with it all being caught on camera, I was officially the bitch of the Bash. How could this happen to me. I looked over at Sylvia as she grinned at me. I could read her lips..” now your really all mines”. Soon after I lost consciousness again. When I awoke I was back in my hotel room with a splitting headache and a very sore backside. There was a note left on the table for me written by Sylvia. “Dear Chris my new sub…I’m sorry that things had to workout this way, but you gave me no choice…drastic times call for drastic measures, so I did what I had to, in order to keep the peace. And now you belong to both me and my husband how ironic. I’m sorry for humiliating you the way I did, but we both know that you had it coming, the boomerang effect is very powerful…hope you heal up soon, as Javier and I can’t wait to break that bottom of yours again…as always, your new owner…LOL”. So here I am, A once proud switch reduced to a submissive sissy by my own friends. Damn…what a night!
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‘Megan Becomes a Top’ : Spanking Party Star contest entry

 

Readers,

An excellent short F/F, F/M story entry to the  Spanking Party Star’ writing contest, ‘Megan Becomes a Top’ is a fun read!

Enjoy~

–  Dana

 

My name is Megan and I have been involved in a relationship with my 29 year old roommate Alexis for over three years.  Alexis is a blond bombshell who is over 6′ tall and has the firm body of an athlete.  She is a lawyer and aware that her stunning looks influences many men on juries who ogle her in court.  Because of this she dresses in tight pencil knee length skirts, stockings, heels, and silk blouses under her suit jackets.  Alexis doesn’t like men and feels that most are pigs who would benefit from the firm hand of a woman.
Alexis pays all of the bills and it is my job to keep our home neat and clean, take care of the laundry, cook, do the dishes, shopping, and to stay within my budget.  If I neglect any of my duties I find myself face down over her knee for a sound no nonsense spanking.  At 5’4″ tall and 110 lbs. I can kick and squirm all I want; but, Alexis has no trouble keeping me firmly in place over her lap.  I sometimes think that if my bottom wasn’t so cute I would avoid some of her paddlings.
I hate Alexis’ paddlings as much as I love her and she enjoys administering them but I obediently submit.  She is an expert spanking disciplinarian and many men and women have spent many unpleasant moments across her lap; and, as lovely as her lap is no one wants to go across it twice.
Alexis’ next surprise was two tickets to a spanking fantasy party in Las Vages.  She assured me that I would be giving the spankings and not on the receiving end.  I told Alexis that I had never given a spanking and that even though it sounded exciting, I wasn’t sure that I could give a good spanking.  Alexis reminded me that I had witnessed her paddling a neighbor caught peaking into our window.  I remembered squirming in my chair during his paddling knowing exactly how much her paddlings sting.  That same evening I witnessed our friend Carolyn strap her husband and the same neighbor.  Alexis explained that because of all of the time I have spent over her knee- I would have no trouble administering a proper spanking.
Alexis and I checked into our hotel and we were given name tags indicating that we were tops or spankers.  It was an  exciting feeling being Alexis’ equal and not submissive to her.  After freshening up in our room we went to the convention center where booths were set up around the perimeter.  The booths were occupied by lovely ladies of all ages with banners above their booths indicating professional disciplinarian, spankologist, spanking therapist, spanking disciplinarian, behavior therapist, and etc.  Vendors also had booths.  At one of these, “Cane-Iac Spanking Toy Store”, Alexis purchased a strap, “The Traveler- Dana’s Brutal Traveling Strap” 12″ x 21/2″ and a Spencer style paddle.  My heart again skipped a beat and I had another lump in my throat!  Alexis smiled and reminded me that we would be doing the spankings this weekend!
As we browsed around the convention center I met Mason a 20 year old college sophomore.  Mason was a small, slim, well built young man just a little bit bigger than me. He was a spankee but he told me that he had never been spanked.  Mason shared that he never had the courage to ask one of his girl friends to spank him because he was afraid they would think he was a weird creep.  He shared that he wanted his spanking to be a no nonsense punishment spanking.  He explained that he had built up guilt about his past behavior and believed that a sound spanking would be a release for him.  I shared my experiences with Alexis with him and admitted that I never have given a spanking.  I also assured Mason that I could give him the spanking that he wanted.  After all I have been over Alexis’ knee on the receiving end often enough and Alexis only gave painful punishment spankings.  I explained to Mason that if he agreed to be spanked by me that once he went over my knee it would be too late for him to change his mind and he would be a very unhappy boy long before I was finished.
I introduced Mason to Alexis and explained Mason’s desires.  Alexis went to our room and returned with her Spencer style paddle . Alexis seldom kicks back and she was dressed in her courtroom attire.  I was wearing my skin tight  yoga pants that showed off my cute behind and a white tank top that barely covered my black bra.  Alexis pulled up two straight backed chairs facing each other and sit in one.  A crowd started to gather around us.  When she crossed her legs I could hear the soft swish of her nylons.  When she smoothed her skirt and put the paddle on her lap my heart again skipped a beat.  This was her routine before putting me over her knee.  Alexis smiled at my discomfort and assured me that I was doing the spanking.
A large crowd gathered around us as I sit across from Alexis and took her paddle.  Mason meekly stood by my side and confessed he felt a lot of guilt because of his past behavior and needed a good spanking.  I think all 300 at the convention center had their eyes upon us as I lowered Mason’s pants and briefs and draped him across my spandix clad lap.  I adjusted him over my knees so his bottom was directly across my lap.  Before his first spank I reminded him that it was too late for him to change his mind.  He had asked for a severe punishment spanking and that was exactly what he was going to get.  I raised Alexis’ paddle high above my head and with a snap of my wrist brought it down sharply on the middle of his bottom leaving a perfect imprint of the paddle.  Mason gasped and kicked as I delivered a second spank just below the first.  I proceeded to paddle his bottom up one side and down the other as he kicked and screamed.  Next I concentrated the spanks where the buttocks and thighs met as the crowd chanted, “Go Girl Go”.  Long before I was finished he was howling and begging for me to quit.  Being on the receiving end of many punishment spankings I continued his spanking until his entire bottom was cherry red.  I emphasized his last few spanks on the spots that were the sorest.  When I finally stopped he laid helpless over my lap.  Before I released him to do his spanking dance I told him, “Be careful of what you wish for because you might get it.”
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‘How Many Panties?’ Contest for DanaKaneSpanks.com members

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After having launched the DanaKaneSpanks.com member site, it became clear yet again that a) being a spanko and b) making spanking videos and even c) being pretty good at figuring stuff out in general – doesn’t mean that you’ll understand a damn thing about computer programming.

As regular readers and correspondents know, I took a crash course in video formatting, operating system limitations, and browser incompatibility. Long story short: there’s no single, universal way to make and disseminate video content while insuring that EVERYONE EVERYWHERE may access it simply and successfully. Some early subscribers had a hard time buffering and/or streaming scenes within the member area, and a few were unable to access the Flash videos at all.

So, with a Herculean effort by a wonderful new webmaster, and several weeks of converting and reformatting ALL the videos (around 180 now, I think), I’m happy to announce that the entire archive on DanaKaneSpanks.com has now been made easily accessible to all subscribers.

How did we do this? I’m glad you asked…

All scenes are now available in both high and lo-res MP4 versions (for slow browsers, dial up connections, and mobile devices), and, best of all,

all videos are now DOWNLOADABLE in both versions! So even if your browser doesn’t love MP4’s, or your Windows Machine working on Firefox won’t stream embedded videos, etc etc, etc – you can still watch the videos, no buffering, no trouble, by simply downloading and watching through your machine’s default video player.

 

THE CONTEST

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To celebrate finally finishing this massive project, I’m holding a contest just for DanaKaneSpanks.com site members. The winning member will receive a free subscription to the website (if your current membership is for 30 days, you’ll get 30 days free. If your membership is for 90 days, you’ll get a FREE 90 day extension.)

 

The contest is simple. I’ve added the photoset “How Many Panties” to the member’s area on DanaKaneSpanks.com. Enjoy the 60 photos taken from a spanking Angel received for bringing way, way, way too many panties when she last visited. When you’re done, try to guess How Many Panties Angel is being punished for. The first member to guess the correct number (kinda like ‘How many jellybeans in the jar?’) is the winner. If no one guesses the number exactly, the nearest guess will win.

*Remember to include your DanaKaneSpanks.com username when sending in your guess, and email it to me at danakanespanks@gmail.com.

 

HMPPromo3

 

–  Dana

 

 

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‘The Party’ : Spanking Party Star contest entry

 

Readers,

All this month we’ll be enjoying spanking story entries from the ‘Spanking Party Star’ writing contest, and here’s one of many excellent offerings – 

The Party.

 

Enjoy!

–  Dana

 

How do I get myself into these things I mused as I stood naked beside my Mistress knowing that in a few minutes I would be exposed before an audience of, well who knew how many. Despite my nudity I was sweating and my legs were shaking. I looked across at Mistress who was wearing her best “domme” outfit and she gave me an encouraging smile. Looking over to my left I saw a young woman in a similar state of undress who also looked very nervous. I had learned earlier that her name was Elizabeth and like me she was new to these affairs. At least she’s attractive I thought, whatever else happened this evening people weren’t going to laugh at her appearance.Me, well that was a different story, a funny looking bespectacled middle aged man with a beer belly, who wouldn’t laugh? Suddenly I saw Elizabeth tense and realised that the sounds of chatter in the next room had stopped. Then I heard the voice of the M.C. ” Ladies and Gentlemen, I would like to thank you all for coming to this, the 5th annual spankathon in aid of Cancer Research. I hope you are all having a good time?”There were loud cheers and a few shouts of “get on with it”. It sounded like there were hundreds of people out there and I fought back an impulse to turn and run away. The M.C. gave a brief summary of the work of the charity that the evening was in aid of and then came the words I had been dreading. “Without further ado lets met our guests of honour. Please give a warm welcome to Mistress Ava and Simon and Master James and Elizabeth” With that the door was opened and I was, with the help of a little push from Mistress, propelled out into the main room of the hotel.

I was led into the centre of the slightly raised area at the back of the room along with Elizabeth. So far I hadn’t looked up, staring resolutely at the floor ,but encouraged by the fact that there hadn’t been any laughter or derision I finally raised my eyes. There were about 70 people in the room, and there seemed to be a roughly even mixture of men and women. Some were dressed in, for want of a better term, fetish gear but a surprising number seemed to be in there normal everyday clothes. The M.C. who was dressed as a circus ringmaster, top hat and whip included, stepped forward.  “Right lets get this evening going, If you would like to spank either of volunteers it will cost you twenty pounds. Using the hairbrush or slipper will set you back thirty quid. Especially for our Scottish friends we have a selection of tawses which will set you back five pounds a stroke and for those of you who prefer a more swishy implement we have a number of canes or riding crops which will cost ten pounds a stroke. I’ve been assured by Mistress Ava and Master James that both of these bottoms can take a serious amount of punishment so lets put that to the test. So form an orderly queue, on the left for Elizabeth and the right for Simon, and don’t forget it’s for a very good cause”. Two queues of people clutching their wallets formed, noticeably more on the left but I had expected that after all who wouldn’t want to spank the firm rounded cheeks of Elizabeth. Then I saw my first customer, a middle aged lady wearing the outfit of a headmistress. ” I’d like to spank him and then give him 6 of the best” she said to Mistress as she handed over eighty pounds. I gulped, I had sometimes been spanked by friends of my Mistress but very rarely and never in front of so many people. Gingerly I lowered myself over her lap feeling a mixture of apprehension and anticipation. The first smack arrived and although it stung I relaxed as I realised it wasn’t going to be any worse than the spankings carried out by my Mistress. A quick 30 smacks later and I was being ordered to stand up and then bend over the bench in the centre of the room. As I made my way over I glanced at Elizabeth who was receiving a sound thrashing with a hairbrush from an elderly gentleman who was very red in the face. I hoped the excitement wouldn’t be too much for him, someone having a heart attack would put a bit of a downer on the evening. However I had my own problems and I bent over the bench and grasped the legs. My punisher was swishing a vicious looking cane through the air and had the look of someone determined to do some damage to my tender bottom. The first stroke showed that she was an experienced user of canes and each of the following strokes ignited a burning sensation in my cheeks.  Then it was over and I returned to the centre of the room. Well that wasn’t too bad I thought I think I’ll survive the rest of the evening. Then I realised that my next customer was a man! When she had asked me if I would provide the male part of the entertainment Mistress had explained that it might involve being punished by a man but I had put the thought aside, now it looked like I would have to face it. “I’d like to spank him and then use the hairbrush” he said handing over the money. He sat down on the chair provided and gestured for me to get over his knee. I hesitated, I had never been spanked by a man what would it be like? Gingerly I lowered myself down and shivered as he ran his hands over my buttocks. I didn’t have long to wait as my first ever spank from a male hand landed on my left cheek. It didn’t feel any different to a spank from a man but I still felt a little uneasy. Soon his hand was replaced with a hairbrush and this was somehow easier to take. My bottom was starting to feel quite sore by the time he had finished and I returned to the centre.
And so the evening continued, poor Elizabeth was clearly the main draw as she was receiving about 3 punishments to each one of mine. As her beautiful bottom got redder and redder and wealed with cane stripes I could only admire her fortitude. She took everything she was given with the odd grunt and occasional squeal if a particularly hard stroke hit her but she was still smiling. Whilst Elizabeth had had far more punishments it was noticeable that mine had tended to be more severe. The majority of people seemed to want to spank her than cane her. I could sympathise with that, her lovely glowing cheeks looked eminently spankable. I on the other hand had received far more canings and strappings than I had spankings. I had so far received 50 strokes of the cane and 80 of the strap. After decades of beatings from Mistress my buttocks didn’t tend to mark up that much but they were definitely looking the worse for wear. I prided myself on being able to take a lot of punishment from my Mistress but I was grateful that the evening was coming to an end. Then I heard my Mistress mutter “oh no” and I looked over to see a very determined looking woman striding towards us, From the reactions of the crowd it was clear that they knew her and I noticed some muttering amongst them. She stopped to chat with the M.C. who then came over to talk to Mistress Ava. She shrugged and looked at me. The M.C.. then stepped up to the microphone “Ladies and Gentlemen, Mistress Sapphire has offered to pay £500 pounds to give Simon 50 strokes, she has also said that if he can take the whole 50 without being tied down, without standing up and without asking for it to stop she will double that amount. So Simon do you accept the challenge”? I thought about how sore my bottom was already and almost declined. Then I thought about the family and friends that I had lost to cancer and knew that I had to try. I was pretty sure that I wouldn’t be able to take that sort of punishment but I was going to give it a go. Okay I said as I walked over to the bench and bent over. I could sense the eyes of seventy people on me and my bruised behind and felt excited and terrified at the same time. The first stroke whistled down and the impact made me gasp. It was clear that his lady meant business. Strokes followed in rapid succession and it felt to me that they were increasing in severity with each one. I gasped and moaned with each agonising impact but I was determined to last as long as possible. I could feel the eyes of the audience on my bottom and felt aroused by that fact. I glanced over to where Elizabeth was standing, still naked and rubbing her bottom ruefully. Seeing me looking at her she smiled and gave me a thumbs up. Then I glanced in the other direction and saw my Mistress looking extremely worried. I knew that despite her severe demeanour she was worried about me so I a gave her a weak smile and she smiled back. At that moment the hardest stroke yet hit and I gave out an agonised yell and almost shot to my feet. Somehow I managed to control the impulse and remain bent over the bench. I had lost count but I heard the M.c. say thirty. I used a trick I used during particulary severe punishments from my Mistress and started working out the percentage of strokes still to come. Unfortunately even in the pain I was in it didn’t take much concentration to work out a percentage if the number of strokes was 50 so that wasn’t much of a distraction. I gritted my teeth and tried to ignore the ever increasing pain in my buttocks. Surely she had ripped my cheeks to shreds particularly the right cheek as she was right handed and that cheek was taking the bulk of the impact. Suddenly I realised that the audience was counting loudly and that some were shouting encouragement. 45, 46, 47, 48, 49 came the shout and I realised that I had only 1 more stroke to take, 50! I had made it but I knew better than to rise before I was given permission. There was loud cheering from the crowd and the woman who had been beating me told me to rise. “Well done” she said and shook my hand. My Mistress strolled over affecting a casual air but I was cheered by the fact that she had clearly been worried and concerned for my welfare. “Very well done” she said “every year she makes that beat at the end of the evening when the slave has already received a number of punishments, you’re the first one to take the lot”. Suddenly a number of the crowd appeared beside me and dragged me over to the bar. A number of drinks appeared in front of me and it was only when halfway through the first I remembered that I was still naked. This had to qualify as the weirdest drinks I had ever had, naked with a bunch of strangers and a very sore and welted bottom. Then thee M.C. took to the stage. “Ladies and Gentlemen, it is with great pleasure I can confirm that this years event has raised a total of £8500 pounds for Cancer Research, the best total ever. Thank you all and lets give a special cheer for our brave volunteers, Simon and Elizabeth”. A loud cheer rent the air and I received a number of pats on the back. Some of the audience also gave my bum a quick squeeze but I was so happy I didn’t mind at all. Yes I had a very sore bottom and a considerable number of people had seen me naked but I had enjoyed the experience and raised a considerable sum for a charity very close to my heart. Was this the best evening of my life? Probably not but it was close.

 

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Fun follow-up to the ‘I’m worried about Amanda Bynes…’ post

 

Okay, this video isn’t at all about Amanda Bynes (who is, apparently, truly very ill), but Justin Bieber – another of the young celebrities I mentioned needing discipline.

In this ‘Between Two Palms’ interview/spoof, Zach Galifianakis, the host, asks young Bieber several ridiculous questions and receives several ridiculous answers…the whole thing’s pretty silly.

But watch the whole video, because close to the end, wait for it…

 

Zach takes his belt off.

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Spanking PSA : Spanko Terminology for Newbies

 

Readers,

I’m sure that this has been done before, and probably more thoroughly than I’ll manage here, but we do have newcomers to the spanking community every day and not everyone knows where to look for basic information on the ins and outs and all-arounds of spanking.

So. I thought that it would be a fun idea to do a series of posts to offer some basic (and not-so-basic, eventually) stuff for newbies to peruse. I’ll invite experienced players to expand on my posts in the comments area below, so that your collective wisdom can help inform others…remember, we were all clueless about all of this at one time.

It seems that a good place to start is with some basic terminology. Even though this stuff appears to go without saying to some of us, even the most common spanko terms may be confusing to newbies. With that said, let’s cover some of the most common spanking terms..

(Please keep in mind that some folks will define a few of these terms somewhat differently, depending upon their personal experience/preferences, and it’s important to discuss these things with anyone new with whom you play/communicate.)

 

Spanko – Short for ‘spankophile’, it’s a term which we use to refer to ourselves and others with an interest in spanking and domestic discipline/corporal punishment. (Note: Spankophile does not appear in the dictionary, nor am I trying to overcomplicate a simple term. These words and explanations are here to help NEWBIES when they see words they may not understand (in our parlance).)

Top – A person, of any gender, who only gives spankings but does not receive them.

Bottom – A person who only receives spankings but does not give them.

Switch – A person who both gives and receives spankings. Some switches may refer to themselves as a “50/50” switch (meaning they equally enjoy both top and bottom roles), or a “mostly-toppy” switch (meaning that they like to bottom occasionally but prefer to top), etc. etc.

*Note: Switching can also refer to the act of spanking someone or being spanked with a switch, as in “Go cut me a switch.”

Corporal Punishment – This occurs when one person uses physical touch, either with hand or implement, on one or more parts of the body, with the intent to cause another physical discomfort.

Discipline – This occurs when one is held accountable, through corporal punishment, for negatively-perceived behavior.

Punishment – See Discipline. Usually, the difference between these two terms is subjective to the level of negative behavior and the agreement of the parties involved.

Maintenance – These spankings usually occur on a regular or semi-regular basis, and are most often for the purposes of keeping one ‘on the right track’, so to speak, either mentally, physically, emotionally, or all of the above.

Non-Corporal Punishment – Often used in tandem with spanking, these activities include corner time, mouth-soaping, writing/reading assignments, and many others.

Role Play – Within the context of a spanking ‘scene’, role play refers to the top, bottom, or both, taking on the persona of another person or time. Examples include: teacher/student, boss/employee, etc.

Limits (or Hard Limits) – This is usually meant to indicate ‘no-go zones’, and are subjective to the player. Example : “My hard limits include bondage, canes, and thigh spanking.” This means that the example person does NOT want bondage or canes utilized during spanking play, nor do they wish to be spanked on their thighs.

We’ll take our time to cover the myriad terms, sayings, and situations we use within the spanko community, but if you’ve a question about any basic spanko terms (or have any to add), please share here.

– Dana

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Spanking Party Star contest entry : ‘The Surprise Party’

 

Readers,

I know you’ll love this entry to the  ‘Spanking Party Star’ writing contest, titled The Surprise Party….I did.

–  Dana

 

THE SURPRISE PARTY

My wife spanks me. As strange as that image might seem to some, it is that simple. She doesn’t walk around the house dressed in a leather cat suit brandishing a whip and we don’t have any kind of a master/slave relationship. There is no dungeon equipment hidden behind a secret door in our basement. We don’t engage in any complex fantasy role playing. Dawn spanks me. When she thinks I need one, my wife simply puts me across her knee for a good old fashioned spanking.

And it works for us. It works very, very well. I have the kind of personality that lacks discipline and Dawn loves me enough to provide some. Aside from this one aspect of our life, our relationship is an equal partnership. We collaborate on household decisions and matters pertaining to our children and our business. But when it comes to my discipline, Dawn has complete control. When she provides me a list of chores, I am expected to attend to them. Other wives may have to continually nag their husbands to complete household repairs but mine asks me only once. If she has to tell me the second time, it is her hairbrush or her strap that does the talking for her. There is seldom a third time. When I get overly sensitive or moody, ten minutes positioned over a pile of pillows on our bed as she uses her cane to reprimand me rarely fails to get me out of my funk. Disrespecting Dawn earns me my hardest spankings. Disrespecting myself is a close second. We are extremely happy. Our friends notice it. Our kids notice it.

We married young and over 20 years later, our love life was as vibrant and passionate as it ever had been. We spent as many hours together as life would permit and revelled in it. Spanking keeps me in line and keeps us intimate as a couple.  As much as her discipline sessions hurt at the time, I have grown to both anticipate them…and relish in the glow afterwards. As odd as it sounds, I can feel the love in her hands as she disciplines me.

Dawn had always spanked me long enough and hard enough to get her point across, but she was also in tune with my physical reactions. She could sense when I had reached my threshold. Soon after my pleading and squirming reached a certain point, she felt the lesson had been learned and her spanking would end. I would kiss her hand and thank her for loving me enough to discipline me. I meant every word of it…and I lived to show her that I meant it with my actions also.

When the internet rolled around, we found out we were by no means alone. In fact we connected with many other couples who shared in our lifestyle. Web browsing lead to emails, emails to phone calls, phone calls to dinner dates, and before we knew it Dawn and I were getting together with other femdom spanking couples on a regular basis. Mostly it was a weekend here or there with a few couples along with one annual gathering involving a larger number of husbands and wives. For the most part it was all pretty light hearted.  Gatherings included some mild spanking games flavored with lots of great fellowship and laughter.  While there was the occasional firmer spanking session from another wife, for the most part all of my genuine discipline spankings still happened at home. It was at one of those annual gatherings when that changed.

It was a Saturday morning. There were seven couples that year, all of us very familiar and very open with each other. We had laughed plenty by that point. There had been lots of games and every husband had felt a degree of swats from each wife with vast assortment of implements. Our bottoms were certainly kept reddened but by no means overly abused. We had almost reached the point where just our being together as a group had become more enjoyable, more important, than the spanking aspect. All of the husbands would soon find out that our wives had decided to add a bit of a twist to that year’s celebrations. I found out right after breakfast.

As we husbands put the finishing touches on the kitchen clean up, Charlene entered the kitchen. Charlene was considerably taller and larger than Dawn. She addressed the husbands with the same authoritative voice she often used with her own husband. When she told them to go outside and collect some firewood for the evening bonfire, none of the men disobeyed. When she told me to stay with her, I didn’t disobey her either. Charlene was a sweet and caring woman, but she also gave off a clear impression that she was not to be disrespected. Her husband had confirmed that she could indeed deliver a memorable paddling when crossed. None of us doubted his account of her severity.

When the kitchen had been vacated, Charlene led me into the large adjoining living room. The remainder of the women were seated comfortably on the sofas and plush chairs that lined the perimeter of the room. The center of the room had been cleared of everything but a large leather ottoman. On top of it sat a broad oval hairbrush and a considerably larger bath brush. Dawn looked at me and smiled. None of the other ladies said anything.

Charlene sat on the ottoman and called me to her side. When she spoke, she spoke as if it was just the two of us in the room. Her voice was firm and no-nonsense.  She proceeded to inform me that the ladies had decided that each husband would receive a disciplinary session from one of the other wives. Mine was to be from her and I was about to get it right there and then. She went on to list a detailed account of the infractions Dawn believed I deserved to be punished for. I looked towards my wife. Dawn was no longer smiling. Charlene chastised me and told me to pay attention to her and her alone. I quickly returned my gaze to her direction. She went on reciting the litany of my shortcomings and outlining the expectations that my behaviour would change. After what seemed like an eternity of humbling scolding, she picked up the hairbrush and told me to bare my bottom and get over her knee. I complied, knowing full well I was about to get a very good tanning.

Charlene wasted no time. The brush fell the second I was over her lap. Quick and harsh. She was a very hard spanker. Unlike Dawn who usually gave a number of lighter warm up smacks, Charlene got right down to business. She was strong and her strokes were rapid and full force right from the onset. She began with five or six spanks to the same spot on one cheek. Then the brush descended the same number of times to the opposite cheek…before returning to a spot close to the original strike zone with yet another series of blows. And so she went on, a sequence on the right side followed by a sequence on the left side, back and forth, back and forth, until my entire backside burned. Only then did she take a break. A respite just long enough to adjust my position, raising my bottom more over her left knee, allowing her to swing her powerful right leg over my calves to prevent my continual squirming and kicking.

And the spanking resumed. Charlene then diverted from her previous method. Instead of multiple strokes to a singular spot, the brush now fell randomly, each spank to a different spot on my behind, sometimes alternating from cheek to cheek and other times finding different targets on the same side. The force and speed of the spanking did not slow down, if anything she seemed to increase the tempo.  She was also including the tops of my thighs with this second round. I was nearing my limit. My vocal pleas to both Charlene and my wife were becoming more desperate by the moment. I assumed Charlene was reading my reactions when she finally ceased with the spanking. I was more than relived as I awaited her to release the leg hold and instruct me to stand. Much to my chagrin, my spanking was far from over.

Charlene held me firm and once again went over Dawn’s list of infractions. After each item she asked me if I understood and intended to address the problem. I choked out a “Yes Ma’am” to each. When she was satisfied with my responses, she got right back to work with the hairbrush. For a good ten more minutes that brush rained down, side to side, top to bottom in its relentless mission. At some point I realized Charlene was speaking to the other wives. She was explaining how she had discovered long ago that the most effective discipline spankings went on long after her husband wanted them to stop. Indeed it was only after he had reached his threshold that the real punishment began.

 

She was right. Long before she finished that final hairbrushing I had both physically and mentally handed control over to her. Her leg still pinned me down, but I had completely ceased any struggling and had resigned myself to accepting whatever amount of punishment she felt I deserved. I was being disciplined. Nor did I hesitate when she finally released me, stood and commanded me to lay prostrate over the ottoman.

She finished her spanking with twenty slow strokes of the bath brush. I was instructed to count each of them off. Dawn sat on the floor in front of me, holding my chin in her hand and gazing into my face as the brush hit home. When Charlene was finished, Dawn added another twenty of her own. I was not permitted to get up off the ottoman for another ten minutes. I had to lay there with my blistered bare behind on display as the ladies discussed what they had witnessed.

All of the husbands received a similar treatment before the weekend was out. The implements and the positions changed to meet each particular wife’s taste in discipline, but all of the men were just as surprised and just as thoroughly spanked.

That weekend, that party, that punishment only strengthened our relationship. I remembered what Charlene had told me and worked to make myself a better husband. When I fall short, Dawn’s knee and her hand are always there to remind me. I am blessed to have a wife that loves enough to spank.

END

 

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You say it’s your birthday. – What a coincidence…

 

…it’s my birthday too.

(Insert that cheesy birthday song here.)

October’s my birthday month, and this year I’m turning 41. I’m still waiting for that upset/obsession about being over 40, but as it hasn’t happened yet I cannot comment on what the fuss is all about. I know that, by societal mores, women are suddenly *of a certain age* when they are no longer in their thirties, and they’re not supposed to be happy about it. (It should be noted that I am deliriously happy to be ANY age, because that means that I’m still here. This is a recurring theme for me, apparently. Attendance.)

Other things of note:

When you’re (a woman) over 40, all of a sudden folks think it’s a compliment to say “Wow. You don’t LOOK forty (or fifty, or whatever)!”. 

That’s not a compliment.

What the hell do you think forty (or fifty, or whatever) is supposed to look like? Should a woman no longer thought of as ‘youthful’ all of a sudden develop a dowager’s hump and conspicuous upper lip hair? Must we all sag and bag and droop in inappropriate places? That sounds more like 80 than 40, doesn’t it?

Once we’ve left our most-sensibly-timed childbearing years behind, we are also supposed to be less sexy, in practice and in perception – somehow, by process of elimination of viable pregnancy and gestation (which, I cannot stress enough, is NOT a bad thing), our hotness factor is somehow inexplicably reduced. Here, I challenge any woman who’s lived through her 20’s, 30’s, and 40’s (or beyond) to announce that she felt more sexy, sensual, and body-confident in her twenties than she does now. I, for one, am more happy with my physical reality than I’ve ever been – because it’s CONFIDENCE and EXPERIENCE which are really important…collagen’s just a pretty wrapper.

This isn’t to say that vanity isn’t a part of my middle-age reality. I know that I’m 20 years older than I was 20 years ago, and I know that nobody in their right mind would card me for booze at this juncture in my life. I’m okay with both of those things, and with the knowledge that, no matter how others may perceive me – 

I’m here. And I’m happy. And that’s all that matters. (Even if I do sometimes do that thing in the mirror where you pull your cheeks up with your index fingers to simulate a Joan-Rivers-facelift-look.)

 

–  Dana

 

If you’re a gift-giver, below are a couple links which you may peruse:

DONATE to the Nevada SPCA (Where we recently adopted Buddy, our sweet little elderly MinPin. Hundreds of rescued dogs, cats, and other pets daily.)

DONATE to the Salvation Army (They do good things, right in your community, every day.)

My Amazon.com WishList

 

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Spanking Party STAR story contest winner!

 

Readers,

It is my pleasure to share with you the winner of this month’s ‘Spanking Party Star’ story contest – My First Party.

This was likely the most difficult contest judging to date. As you’ll see throughout the month of October, there were several excellent stories submitted, so I read and reread until I was certain I’d made the right choice. 

In the case of ‘My First Party’, not only is the story well-told and the characters and dialogue funny and believable, but the author’s taken the time to educate the reader – spanko terms, implements, relationships, etc – throughout the telling of the story. I hope you enjoy it, and all the rest, as much as I have.

 

Thanks again to ALL the willing authors who’ve worked so hard over the years to make the writing contests fun and competitive!

–  Dana

 

MY FIRST PARTY

By Randy Lee

 

I got out of my car, collected my purse and workday tote bag, and walked toward the steps to my second-floor apartment, pointing the remote behind me to lock the car.  I hadn’t taken five steps before sweat beaded on my forehead and was about to trickle down my face.  I unlocked my mailbox, retrieved my mail, and started up the stairs.

“Hi, Randy.  I’m sure glad the weekend is finally here.”

I paused, turned, and saw Sandra Barnes, my three-doors-down neighbor, who was climbing the stairs a few steps behind me.

“Wow, me too,” I agreed.  “This has been a real rough week at work.  As if just being busy weren’t enough, there’ve been so many difficult customers and just as many difficult bosses to contend with.  I’m really looking forward to being able to relax.”

“I’m with you there,” Sandra replied.  “I’m going to a party later.  Just the thing to wind down from a hectic week.

I reached the top of the steps and looked down at her.  “I’ll think good thoughts about your head tomorrow,” I offered.

She looked puzzled as she reached the top.  “My head?” she asked.  “What do you mean?”

I explained, “You know, a hangover.  I don’t drink anymore, but I still remember what it feels like the next morning.”

Sandra paused.  Searching for the right words, she said, “Um, well, it’s not that kind of a party.  In fact, there’s no drinking at all.”

“A party with no drinking?  Well, that’s a new one on me.”

Sandra cocked her head and looked away for a moment, her brow knit in concentration.  A smile played at the corners of her mouth as she again looked in my direction.  Hesitating briefly, she said, “You and I are pretty close.  Come over to my place for a minute.  I’ll explain.”

I followed as she walked to her door.  Unlocking it, she invited me in.  We plopped our gear on the sofa, and she said, “Have a seat.  Want some tea?”

“Yes, please,” I said.  “It’s hot out there.  Tea would really hit the spot.”

“You got that right,” she agreed.  She opened the refrigerator door and reached for a pitcher of the most refreshing beverage on earth, setting it on the counter.  She took two large tumblers from the cupboard, added ice from the freezer bin, and filled the glasses with tea, setting one in front of me and the other across the table.  She returned the pitcher to the fridge and sat down.

I looked at her.  “Okay, now what’s so top secret?”

As before, Sandra hesitated, evidencing the same suggestion of a smile, but her gaze was steady.  “It’s a spanking party.”

My eyes must have gotten as big as saucers.  “I beg your pardon??!!”

“You heard right,” she reassured me.  “I belong to a group of people who get together once a month for a spanking party.  Some of them spank, some get spanked, and some do both.  Some people, especially new ones, do neither.”

I realized my jaw was nearly on my chest.  “Sandra Barnes, do you mean to tell me there are people out there who like to be spanked?  I mean, people besides me?”

Now it was her turn to stare.  As close as we were, as much as we knew about each other, she was as surprised as I was.  “Are you saying you’re a spanko, too?”

“Spanko?  I’ve never heard that word before.”

“It’s short for spankophile.  It means someone who likes spanking, either giving or getting or both,” she explained.  “So which are you, a Top or a Bottom?”

“Top or Bottom?”  It sounded like English, but she was speaking a foreign language to me.  “What does that mean?”

“A Top is a spanker.  A Bottom is a spankee.  A Switch does both.”

“I guess I’m a Bottom.  I like to be whipped.  Spanked, you call it.  So ‘Switch’ doesn’t mean what weapon is used?”

“Oh, no.  Many Tops spank with their hands.  Some use paddles or belts or other toys.”

“Toys!!??  If somebody came at me with a paddle, ‘toy’ is not the first word I would think of.” I thought for a few moments.  “Although I have had a belt and a riding crop used on me.  It was kinda rough, but I wanted it.  And I liked it.”  By way of clarification, I added, “There were always bruises.”

“So you’ve done it more than once,” Sandra asked.

“Yes, a number of times.  Maybe twenty times.”

“But ‘toy’ wasn’t the word that came to mind?”

“No.  It was not a game.  It was consensual, but not sensual.” For a brief moment I was lost in memories of a former time.

Sandra brought me back to the present.  “Were you always the one that received the spankings, or did you sometimes give them.”

“I was always on the receiving end, so to speak.”

Sandra smiled an acknowledgement of the pun. “At our parties, our aim is to have fun.  We do this because we enjoy it.  Bottoms enjoy getting spanked, and Tops enjoy spanking them.  If it gets unpleasant, the Bottom says so, and the Top changes tactics.  Either that or the Top is asked to leave.  Well actually, told to leave.  It’s a rule.”  She was quiet for a minute.  “Wanna come to the party?  I could make a phone call and see if it’s okay.  I’m sure it will be.  You don’t even have to play if you don’t want to.

“Play?  Is that what you call it?” I asked.

“Mm-hmm,” she affirmed.  ‘Play.’  That’s what you do with ‘toys.’  I bet you would enjoy it.  No one will coerce you into doing anything you don’t want to do.  You can just be an observer.  I think you would be surprised how much fun you’ll have.”

“Where does this take place?  I’m imagining a dungeon somewhere.”

Sandra laughed.  “No, it’s not a dungeon.  This group meets at the home of some members, a married couple.  More like a mansion, really.  This house has eight bedrooms, six bathrooms, two large living rooms, and the usual den, dining room, kitchen, etc.  And a four-car garage and ten acres.  And indoor and outdoor swimming pools, one of each.”

I was amazed.  “Wow, Sandra.  That sounds like quite a mansion, all right.  “Yes, I’d like to go.  If there is a fee involved, I’ll gladly fork it over.”

She answered, “There’s a fee for the party, and there’s a one-time fee for membership in the group.”  She told me the amounts.  “And they do require cash.”

“Not a problem,” I said.  “I happen to have that much on me.  What do I do?  I’ll need to change clothes.”  I got up to leave.

“I’ll get hold of one of the people in charge and get it all set up.  You go shower and get something to eat if you want to.  They’ll have munchies at the party.  Either way, brush your teeth.  Be back at 7 and we can ride together, or you can follow me.  The party lasts till 2 in the morning, but I usually leave about 11.  Oh, and just wear something vanilla.”

“You mean white?”

Sandra laughed again, this time at my lack of knowledge.  “No, it just means ordinary.  Not a costume or anything suggesting spanking.”

“Oh.  Okay.”  I’m sure I looked confused, but not as confused as I felt.

“Take your tea.  You can bring the glass back later.”

“Yeah.  Sure.” Dazed, I grabbed the glass and my tote bag and went out the door, heading for my place.

I walked the thirty-odd steps to my apartment, thoughts spinning around in my mind like it was a blender.  Okay, Randy.  What have you gotten yourself into this time?  Well, she said I could just observe.  She said I don’t have to participate.  What did she call it?  ‘Play?’  This is the strangest thing I’ve ever heard of.  But an hour ago, my craving was the strangest thing I’d ever heard of.  Yeah, an hour ago, and a year ago, and twenty years ago.  This may just be what I’ve been looking for all this time.

I unlocked my apartment door and went in, relocking the door behind me.  I parked my tote bag and purse in their usual places and headed for the bedroom, kicking off my shoes.  A long, satisfying drink of tea went a long way toward slaking my thirst.  I padded around in socks, shedding an article of clothing every few steps.  These I gathered up and tossed into the dirty-clothes basket in the corner.  I stopped in front of the closet, whose doors were always open unless company was coming, and gazed at my wardrobe.  Vanilla.  What’s vanilla?  Ordinary.  How about dark slacks and a casual top?  Yeah, that would be fine.  I reached for hangers containing navy pants and a blue and white flower-print shirt with a straight hem and hung them on a hook on the bathroom door.  I went to my bureau and opened the underwear drawer.  If I just observe, I’ll keep my clothes on.  But if I change my mind, am I going to undress?  Will I keep my panties on?  Should I choose attractive undies?  Will anyone care?  Probably not.  I took panties, a bra, and socks from the drawer and laid them on top of the bureau.  Then I went into the bathroom, reached to turn on the shower, and stripped off my remaining garments.  Having shampooed my hair that morning, I decided it wasn’t necessary to do it again, so I put on a shower cap.  Checking that the water was warm, I stepped into the back of the tub and closed the sliding door.  I quickly scrubbed all over, using the bath brush on my back.  Turning under the shower head to rinse off the residual soap, I contemplated what the party would be like, noting that my body was already intrigued by the idea of a whipping.  I turned off the water and slid the door open, pulling a towel from the towel bar on the outside of the door.  I took the shower cap off and shook it, replaced it on its hook, and stepped out onto the bath mat.  I dried off, hung the towel back on its bar, and went into the bedroom.  After the warm shower, another swallow of tea cooled and refreshed me.  I drained the glass, wiped the moisture off the outside of it, and stuck it in the top of my purse so I would remember to take it when I returned to Sandra’s.

I put on the undergarments and outfit I had selected.  With black oxfords, I was dressed.  I decided to forgo makeup except for my eyebrows, which were getting paler with the passing years.  Brushing my teeth was the last item on my to-do list.  With that accomplished, I studied my face in the mirror.  Randy, have you absolutely lost your mind?  Well, Sandra’s going.  I’m not any crazier than she is.  No, I guess you aren’t.  But you gotta admit, this is the zaniest Friday night of your life.  So what?  What’s life without a little drama, especially high-spirited, fun drama?  Satisfied with my preparation, I gathered my purse and the empty tumbler, turned off lights, and locked my apartment door behind me.

 

I walked to Sandra’s door and knocked.  A lusty “Come in” sounded from within the apartment, so I knew that my friend was not far from the door, most likely in the kitchen.  Letting myself in, I saw that she was dressed much like I was.

“Your outfit’s just fine,” she said.  “See?  You’re already learning vanilla.”

“Thanks,” I replied.  “Here’s your glass.”  I set it on the counter in the kitchen.  “You make great tea.  So everything is all set for me to go to the party?”

“Sure thing.  What do you want to take to drink?  I have bottled water, ginger ale, and diet cola.  And, of course, tea.”

“Water would be good.  Thanks.”

“You’re quite welcome.  Getting spanked is thirsty work,” she joked.  “Not that you necessarily will.” She reached into the fridge and brought out four bottles of water, placing them in a lunch-sized cooler.  “Okay, looks like we’re all set.”

“All right,” I said, moving toward the door.  “Can I carry anything?”

“Nope, I got it.”

I opened the door and went out.  She followed, locking the door behind her.  We descended the steps in the bright Texas sun, which at 7 p.m. was still hotter than West Hell.

When she got to the bottom of the steps, Sandra asked, “Do you want to ride with me or take your own car?”

“I’ll accept the gracious invitation to go with you,” I said, joining her on ground level.  It’ll help me not to be so nervous.  Besides, I don’t expect to get bored and want to leave.”   I smiled, and she laughed.  “So how far away is this place?”

“It’s only about 9 miles.  You’ll be surprised where it is.”

We left the parking lot and headed toward downtown.  After a few blocks, Sandra turned right, in the direction of a city park.  She drove around it and continued on a four-lane street toward the outskirts of town.  We passed the high school and then a shopping mall.  A few miles later, we came to what was known as the “hospital district,” a rather pretentious moniker for the area surrounding the town’s only hospital.  It was new, however, and two generous endowments had provided for creating and maintaining state-of-the-art equipment and leading-edge technology in several specialties.  The facility had the potential to become a showcase for modern medicine, though on a small scale.

We drove past the emergency entrance, and Sandra observed that there were no ambulances and only one police car.  I voice the hope that it would be a slow night for ER personnel.  Beyond the hospital grounds, on both sides of the four-lane road, were recently constructed housing developments with interesting architecture and lawns that were well cared for.  A mile or so later, Sandra turned right, into a drive flanked with beautifully maintained shrubbery and flowers in an array of colors.  We approached a tall gate, and Sandra drove up to a call box to gain access to the property.  I imagined we were about to enter a gated community containing expensive dwellings.  Sandra pushed a button, and a male voice said, “Good evening.”

Sandra replied, “Hello, I’m Sandra.  Elements.”

The voice answered her, “Hello, Sandra.  Proceed.”  The gate moved slowly to the right, allowing us to enter.  Sandra drove through the gate and followed a road wide enough to be two-lane, on each side of which was an expanse of newly mown grass.  As the road wound and curved toward a large structure some distance in front of us, I realized that this was not a gated community; it was a gated HOUSE.  I was looking at the ten-acre grounds of the mansion.  I thought of the lyrics to a Broadway song, “What a setup! Holy Cow!  They’d never believe it if my friends could see me now.”  As we got closer, it was evident that part of the lawn to the side of this dwelling had been designated as a parking area.  Even without marked boundaries, drivers had parked their vehicles in surprisingly even rows, with enough space between each two cars to open the doors fully.

We reached the end of the grassy parking area, where Sandra pulled in beside a dark red sedan.  “Well, I see Allen is already here.  He’s the one I called to make sure it was okay.” She shifted the car to PARK and turned off the ignition.  “I would suggest you leave your purse here.  That way you won’t have to keep up with it.  Besides, there’s probably not anything in it that you’ll need.  Oh, wait:  You will need your driver’s license and money.  I’m just taking my car keys, and I keep ‘em in a pocket.

“Sounds good to me,” I replied.

“Good.  We can put them in the trunk.”  I opened my purse and got out my driver’s license and the cash I would need.  Then we got out of the car, Sandra unlocked the trunk, and we put our purses in it.  She closed the trunk and locked the car.  We turned toward the front door of the house.  “Are you nervous?” She asked.

“A little.  Well, maybe more than a little.” I admitted.

Sandra chuckled.  “So was I, the first time I came to one of these parties.  It won’t be strange for long.  In no time at all you’ll settle in.”

We reached the front porch and went up the steps.  Sandra rang the bell.  The door was opened by a tall, slim man with dark hair just turning silver at the temples.  On his green golf shirt was a name tag that said “JOHN,” beneath which was a solid blue circle.  “Hi, Sandra,” he boomed, hugging her as he pulled her inside.  I followed, and he closed the door.  He leaned down to kiss her cheek and then looked at me. “This must be the friend Allen called me about.”

“Yes, indeed,” Sandra replied.  Turning to me, she said, “Randy, this is John, the master of the house.”  She gestured toward me.  “John, my friend and neighbor Randy.”

He took my hand in a gentle handshake.  “So pleased to meet you, Randy.  Sandra tells me you’re new to the lifestyle.”

“Yes,” I agreed, having no idea what he was talking about.

My neighbor rescued me.  “What he means is the Spanko lifestyle.  Yes, Randy’s new to the lifestyle, but not the fetish.  She was into spanking some years ago but just didn’t know other people were.  She’s never been to a spanking party before.”

“Well, you’re certainly welcome, Randy,” John said warmly.  “We have a real friendly group.  Let’s get you registered, and there’s some information we need to make note of.  Come along.” He led Sandra and me to the kitchen, where a woman sat at a table with a notebook and pen, a sheet of self-adhesive name tags and a sheet of different-colored adhesive circles with some missing, and a locking money box.  “Evelyn, we have a new member.  Sandra brought along her neighbor.  It’s been cleared with Allen.”  The woman had printed “SAN” on one of the name tags and stopped to greet us.

“Yes, he told me.  That’s great!” she said to John.  To me, she held out her hand.  “Hi, I’m Evelyn.”

“I’m Randy,” I answered, gripping her hand briefly.

“Have a seat,” she said.  “Did you bring your driver’s license?”  She continued printing “DRA on the name tag and attached a red circle under the name.

“Yes.  I have it right here,” I said, digging into my pocket.  I handed it to her and sat in a vacant chair.

Evelyn alternately looked at my driver’s license and the page of her notebook, writing down the information she needed.  “Do you know about the fees?”

“Yes,” I said.  “Sandra told me.  Is this the right amount?” I asked, handing her the bills I had stashed in my pocket.

“Yep, right on the nose,” she confirmed.  “Glad to have you here tonight.  What’s your position?” she asked, reaching for another name tag.

Again ignorance silenced me, and again Sandra came to my rescue.  “She’s a Bottom, but tonight she’s an Observer.”

After printing my name on the tag, Evelyn peeled a green, self-adhesive circle from a sheet and placed it carefully under my name.  “There,” she said.  “You’re officially an Observer.  And Sandra, here’s yours.”  After peeling the backing off them, she handed us the name tags, which we pasted to our shirts.

“Well, let’s get you introduced around,” John said to me.  “Come this way.”

He led us into a large, high-ceilinged living room where several small groups of people sat on sofas and in armchairs, chatting on different subjects.  He went up to each group and introduced me.  I heard the sound of flesh hitting flesh in an adjoining room.  “Now I’ll introduce you to my wife,” John said, leading us in the direction of the sound.  Only two people were in the room, a woman with her dress up over her back and her panties down around her knees, and a man across whose lap she was lying as he repeatedly spanked her with his hand.  Her arms were folded under her head, her chin resting on the uppermost hand. “Hi, Honey,” she said cheerily, followed by “Ow, Keith,” as she looked back at the man.

“Aw, did that hurt?” said her punisher, rubbing her bottom gently.

“Hi, Joyce,” John greeted his wife, planting a kiss on her hair.  “I want to introduce our new member, Sandra’s friend Randy.  Randy, this is my wife, Joyce.”

“Hi, Randy.  Forgive me for not getting up,” she apologized, “but I’m a little indisposed at the moment.”

“Oh, that’s quite all right,” I said, smiling.  “It’s nice to meet you.”

Then John instructed, “Now, Keith, you know Joyce only likes to be spanked when she deserves it and when she doesn’t.  And she only likes it hard or harder.  Keep that in mind, will you?”

“Sure ’nough, John,” Keith agreed, smacking Joyce more forcefully, which made her bury her face in the bedspread.

“Jnmm?” she said, the sound muffled by bedclothes.

“Yes, dear?” her husband answered.

She lifted her head toward him and observed, “You’re not helping.”

“Okay, Hon.  I’ll just run along and do some more introductions.”  He patted her shoulder gently in parting.

As we moved toward the door, John explained, “Don’t worry, Randy.  She loves it.  Joyce and I have been married for 34 years, and we’ve known Keith for 20.  He knows she likes it hard, but he won’t overdo it.  She’s in good hands.  Or undergood hands, you might say.”  I chuckled.

We followed John out into the living room.  Ever the tour guide, he suggested, “Let’s go upstairs and see what kind of action there is.  It’s usually a lot.” As the three of us trooped up the grand staircase, I thought how bizarre the scene was that I had just witnessed.  A guy was spanking another guy’s wife, and she and both guys were as happy as larks.

 

We got to the top of the stairs and heard a variety of sounds of hitting going on.  In the first room on the left, there was a queen-sized bed.  Three of its sides contained women who were being spanked, two by men and one by a woman.  The two Bottoms being spanked by men were prone on the bed while their Tops were standing up and using leather implements of differing types on their bare buttocks.  On the far side of the bed, the woman Top had her victim across her lap, spanking her with a rather small, brown-and-tan-striped wooden paddle that brought repeated flinches and protests.

“Ouch, Vivian.  That hurts,” she wailed.

“Of course it hurts, Kim.  It’s a spanking.  It’s punishment.  It’s supposed to hurt.  How many is that?”

“Twelve,” Kim answered.  She sniffled.

“And how many are left?”

“Thirteen.”

“Very good,” Vivian acknowledged.  “Hold still.” She swung the paddle again, causing Kim to flinch.  And again.

I looked at one of the other women.  The man spanking her was using a doubled-over strap that made a loud slapping sound.  The woman’s panties were pulled up so that both cheeks were exposed and fabric was between them.  She was lying still and looked quite serene.  “Hi, John,” she greeted our guide.  “Have you played yet?”

“Hi, Lani.  No, not yet.  Right now I’m showing our new member around.  Randy, this is Lani.  Lani, Randy is a neighbor of Sandra’s.  They’ve lived three doors down from each other and been pals for five years, and today they learned something new about each other.”

Lani smiled at me.  “Hi, Randy.  I hope you have a good time.  This is a great bunch of people.  I see you’re an Observer tonight.  That’s fine.  No one will make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

“Thanks,” I replied.  “It’s certainly different.  I’m not used to any of this.”

“That’s okay.  All of us attended our first party once upo—OW, Curtis!  Is that what you were trying to get me to say?  All right, you got your wish.”  To me, she resumed, “As I was saying before I was so painfully interrupted, we were all new and going to our first party once upon a time.  Soon, you’ll be an ‘old hand.’ ”

“Thanks for the encouragement,” I answered.  Seeing that John had turned and was moving toward the door, I said, “See you later.”

John said, “The woman doing the spanking in there is Vivian.  She’s a Top, and she’s Kim’s Domme.  I imagine Kim got herself into trouble, although being her Domme, Vivian can spank her anytime she wants to, for whatever reason.”

We moved down the hall, peeking into different rooms as we went.  We passed one room where a man wearing a T-shirt stood beside the bed, bent over with his hands flat on the bedspread.  I saw that his pants and undershorts were down around his ankles.  A woman was using a switch of some kind on his bare bottom with much force and just as much accuracy.  Several parallel lines marked the skin, and she was in the process of adding another one below them.  “Eight,” he counted.

I asked John, “Another Domme?”

“I don’t think so,” he replied.  “Laura is a Top, but I think she’s just giving Eric what he likes.  He likes it when his Top makes him count.  They’re both regulars at our parties, but I don’t think they have a Domme/sub relationship.”

“What was she hitting him with?” I wanted to know.

“A cane,” John said.  “It looked like a Delrin cane.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Canes were originally rattan.  Delrin is a synthetic material that resembles rattan in weight and size, but it’s virtually unbreakable.  It’s very bendable, though.”

John then suggested that we go back downstairs to socialize some more.  At the head of the staircase, I noticed a table with snacks on it, including cheese and crackers, a fruit plate, and cookies.  John grabbed a few grapes, Sandra and I each took a cookie, and we started down the stairs.  When we got to the first floor, I saw another table with similar snacks on it that hadn’t been there earlier.  I snagged another cookie.

John turned to me.  “Well, what do you think so far, Randy?”

“It’s all so strange,” I said.  “I had no idea this kind of thing existed.  It just never occurred to me.”

Sandra, who had been quiet all during our brief tour, voiced her agreement.  “I never knew it existed, either, until I got into the same kind of conversation you and I had today.  It’s opened up a whole new world for me.”

John said, “That’s true for all of us.  Our group can be found online, but you have to know where and how to look.  If you just google ‘Elements,’ you’ll pull up the periodic table!  You can’t find us by accident.  You have to be looking.”

“Speaking of which,” Sandra said, “I’m going to hunt up Keith.  We have a ‘play date’ scheduled.  I’ll see if he’s finished with Joyce.”  She moved toward the first room we had visited.

“Randy, why don’t you wander around and mingle?” John suggested to me.  “You can ask questions and get to know some of the people.  And remember, if you decide you want to be more than an Observer, and your bottom needs a Top, there are several available, including me.”

“Thank you, John.  I know you’re making such a gracious offer out of the goodness of your hand—I mean heart,” I replied, grinning.

“Ah, now I see you’re getting into the ‘swing’ of things,” he retorted.  “See you later.” He followed in the same direction Sandra had gone, just as Joyce was coming out of the room.  She reached up to hug her husband as he put his arms around her.  “How do you feel?” he asked.

“Wonderful,” she answered.  “After I get a drink and rest for a while, will you do me next?

“My dear, I would do you anytime, anywhere, and love every minute of it,” John lovingly assured his wife.

As they started walking into the kitchen, I went to the room where Sandra had gone.  She was on the near side of the bed, her slacks and panties down to her knees, lying across Keith’s lap.  He was just about to begin spanking her.

I decided to go back upstairs.  I paused at the foot of the stairs for a cracker and cheese and then continued up to the second floor.  In the room we had visited earlier, Lani was hugging Curtis, her Top, and thanking him.  The other man and the woman he had been spanking were gone.  Vivian and Kim were sitting on the far side of the bed, where Kim had lain earlier.  She was crying, and Vivian held her, smoothing her hair and softly talking to her.  I left the room and moved down the hallway, exploring.  The man who was being caned earlier was now lying prone on the bed, being whipped with a belt.  I heard him say “nineteen” as I walked past.  The next room I came to was vacant, but the light was on.  Proceeding down the hallway, I came to a room occupied by six women.  Three were Tops, and the other three were Bottoms.  The Bottoms were on the near side, the foot of the bed, and the far side, and the Tops stood over them, each holding a leather strap.  One of the Tops was instructing the women about the spankings they were going to receive. It looked like some sort of ritual, because the three Tops were dressed alike and the three Bottoms were naked.  I was both frightened and mesmerized.

I went back downstairs to the room I had just left, where Keith was spanking Sandra with his hand.  Her chin rested on her hands.  She was absolutely still, though it seemed he was hitting her pretty hard.  I asked if I could come in, and Keith said, “Sure.  You can watch all you want.  You want to come over here so you and Sandra can talk?”  He indicated an open space on the bed close to her head.

I moved over there and asked Sandra how she was doing.

“Fine,” she said.  “It feels wonderful.  This is an excellent way to release the tension of the work week.  Have you come across anything interesting yet?”

“Oh, it’s all interesting,” I answered.  “So interesting, in fact, that I’m getting very jealous.  I’m going to have to become an un-Observer.  I want a whipping so bad I can almost feel it, and the ‘almost’ is driving me crazy.”

“I know that feeling well,” Sandra sympathized.  A light bulb seemed to go on in her eyes.  “I know what you ought to do.  Go upstairs and find Allen.  He was supposed to have taken three gals upstairs right before we got here.  Maybe he can work you in.  You’ll like his style.  He starts slow and easy, which would be great for you since you haven’t played in a while.  Then he gets harder and a little faster, but the way he does it it’s easy to take, even if you’re not used to it.  We always recommend him to new Bottoms.”

“On your expert referral, I’ll do just that.  Thanks, Sandra.”  I turned and left the room, heading for the stairs.  I snagged a few grapes and marched purposefully up the staircase.  I knew that this Allen person wasn’t in any of the rooms I had looked in earlier, so I went beyond those doors to the next one on the left.  I could see two women sitting on the bed, and I could hear spanking happening.  Stepping into the room, I saw that the man had the other woman—the third one—across his lap, spanking her somewhat forcefully.  Her slacks and panties were down around her knees, and he was spanking her bare buttocks.  She squirmed a little with each blow but didn’t make a sound.  He looked up to see who had just walked in, and he froze in mid-spank.

I froze in mid-thought.  Allen.  Allen Saunders, M.D.  My gynecologist!  I blurted out, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.  I’m Randy.  Sandra suggested that I see you for a spanking because I’m new.  Allen, right?”  I had never in sixteen years of being his patient called him anything but Dr. Saunders.

He beamed.  “Yes, that’s right.  I’m pleased to meet you, Randy.  And I’m pleased that Sandra would refer you to me.” ‘Refer.’ Doctor talk.  ‘Refer me to him.’

I could see that he was going along with it, so I would do the same.  “So I can just make myself comfortable and wait?”

“Sure, sure,” he said. “Hop up here and wait till Jenny and I are done here.”  He patted the bed behind where he was sitting.  I went around and climbed up beside the other two women.

One of those said, “We’ve already played.  We’re just waiting for Jenny.  Sort of the Three Musketeers.”  I nodded understanding.

After four or five minutes, he stopped spanking Jenny and asked, “Well, how was that?”

“Very nice,” she replied.  “I feel great.”

He helped her climb off his lap and stand up.  He reached for her panties and pulled them up to the proper level as she adjusted her legs to assist.  Then he caught the waistband of her pants, first with one hand and then the other, and began pulling them up, while she again wiggled to accommodate his movements.  He stood up, and they hugged affectionately.  She thanked him for spanking her and he told her how much he enjoyed doing it.  She went around the bed and sat close to me.

Dr. Saunders—Allen—said, “I’ll take a short break to rest and get some fluids in me, and then you and I can start, Randy.”  ‘Fluids.’  More doctor talk.  He went into the bathroom and turned on the water at the sink.  “He was washing his hands between patients!”  Oh, for the love o’ Mike.”

He reached for a hand towel and stood in the doorway of the bathroom looking at the other women and me, drying his hands like some TV surgeon in the OR.  He replaced the towel on a rack and came back into the room.  “Okay.  You ready?” he asked me.

I felt extremely awkward.  “Hold on, now.  Wait just a doggone minute.  I happen to know you’re a married man.  I don’t have any intention of pursuing this activity with a married man.  That kind of scandal holds no attraction for me.”

He frowned.  “I see what you mean.  It could be a really messy situation,” he acknowledged.  “That is, if my wife weren’t sitting right here.”  He indicated Jenny.

She extended her hand.  “Jenny Saunders, RNP.  Pleased to meet you.”

I looked from him to her, and then back at him, and back at her, sticking out my hand like a zombie.  My chin was on my chest for the second time that day, as Jenny briefly gripped my hand, grinning like a possum.

Matter-of-factly, Allen asked, “So do you want me to spank you or not?”

“I guess so,” I stammered.

“Well then, I think it would be nice to invoke an age-old tradition I just made up.  I think you and I should go from room to room, upstairs and downstairs, and invite everyone to gather in the downstairs living room to witness your first spanking here among the ‘Elements.’  ”

“Everyone?” I squeaked.

“Well, sure.  Why not?”

My mind raced.  “What makes you think you can get away with that?”

“Get away with it?” Allen asked.  “Who are you going to tell?  My wife is right here.”

“What about the hospital?  Surely you don’t think they would condone this behavior on the part of one of their prominent doctors.”

“Oh, I doubt I’ll get into too much trouble.  John is the CEO of the hospital, what used to be known as the hospital administrator.  Now, let me make it clear:  You will not be forced to take a spanking from anyone, Randy, but if you want to be spanked by me, those are the terms.”

My last argument had disintegrated.  It was tempting to say I didn’t want to be spanked at all, or to ask that someone else do it, but by now the seed had been planted in every fertile mind in the house.  I wanted it, and this was the only way I was going to get it tonight.  “Okay.”

“Okay what?” he tortured.

“Okay, A—.”  The name didn’t want to leave my throat.  “Okay, Allen.  Will you please spank me?”

“Atta girl.”  Then he whispered, “Such a good patient.” In a normal voice he instructed, “Come along, and we’ll rally the troops.”

Dr. Saunders and I went from one upstairs room to another, informing all occupants of the spanking that was going to take place downstairs.  I was eager, but at the same time I felt trapped.  When we had covered the second floor, we went downstairs and made the rounds there.

When everyone had been apprised of the latest goings-on, Dr. Saunders led me to a sofa that was the center item of the grouped furniture.  As if suddenly remembering the detail, he said, “Oh, there was just one more term I forgot.”

Resigned to my fate, I asked, “What’s that?”

He paused to get the full benefit of the word.  “Strip.”

I figured it didn’t make any difference now.  “Might as well.  You’ve seen me like that before.”  I began unbuttoning my shirt.

As he sat down, a chorus started chanting as if it were a TV show, ‘Ran-Dy, Ran-Dy, Ran-Dy.’ My shirt was off.  Down came the pants.  The chanting was getting a little irksome.

I put my hands on my hips and asked, just loud enough to be heard, “Why’re alla y’all lookin’ at me like I’m fresh meat?”  They burst into laughter as I removed my shoes, bra and then panties.  I lay across Dr. Saunders’ lap.  To him, I said, “This is the strangest day of my life.”