Readers,
Don’t give up now – we’re down to just a few more entries in the ‘Spanking Wish’ contest …
Read on~
– Dana
**********
“The Little Wooden Bridge”
I stood at the top of the little wooden bridge and looked down into the cold,
dark water below. A few leaves and branches slowly drifted beneath me, then
for a moment the surface of the water was calm and flat. I straightened up and
looked around for a sign that someone might be watching, but I was alone. So
very alone. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a shiny quarter which I had
been saving for this moment. Then I leaned over the wooden railing, letting my
arm dangle above the water’s surface, the coin still clutched in my fist.
It seemed a bit silly to me to be doing this. I don’t know how much I believed in
magic and wishful incantations, but I know I wanted a spanking. Besides, this
was Dana’s idea. I closed my eyes and imagined my desire, my burning need and
then dropped the coin gently from my hand into the deep pond below. With a
little splash, it sunk and was gone.
I didn’t know what to do next. How was it supposed to happen? Would I
magically receive a call, inviting me over for a spanking? Not likely. Now I felt
even sillier for thinking this would work. But at least, I tried.
* * * * *
Dana lived next door to my uncle Ed, only a short walk from my apartment. I
visited my uncle often, to help out with little fix-up jobs around the house and
to help stockpile the wood for the coming winter. Dana was often outdoors
working in her garden, painting the little wooden fence that divided her
property from Uncle Ed’s, or just relaxing on her deck, sipping iced tea and
reading her book. Many times I would be working in the yard, and I would look
over and dream about those beautiful, firm legs….
Whenever she was there, I would make a point of making small talk and try to
get to know her better. Sometimes, Ed would invite her over and we would sit on
the patio in large, comfortable wicker chairs, and chat about everything and
nothing.
That’s when I learned she could spank.
I almost choked on my julep when she mentioned it in passing. My world went
dark and I thought I might pass out. I couldn’t focus.
“Nothing that a good spanking couldn’t fix”, she said.
We all laughed at the humorous little remark and the conversation continued.
However I became suddenly very flushed. I wanted her to repeat it again. And
again. Maybe just a couple more times.
We had been talking about customer service, more or less in general, and Uncle
Ed had mentioned how rude some of the service people in town had become. We
all agreed that many folks here in our community had become bored with their
jobs, and that customer appreciation no longer mattered. Ed thought about
boycotting a few of the local shops but Dana seemed to have a better solution.
So that was when I learned she was into spanking. Or at least she could be into
spanking. Or maybe I could convince her to “be into” spanking. Hopefully
spanking me, of course.
Dana was definitely a woman to be respected. She had become an important
figure in the community, with her social causes and political savvy. She had
character, was well educated, well-spoken and generous to a fault. But she was
not to be trifled with, never to be ignored and certainly, not ever to be talked
down to. And I would have to add, disobeyed. When she had been a teacher, I
imagine her students behaved themselves quite regularly. I could only imagine
the consequences of her disapproval.
One lazy summer afternoon, I came by Uncle Ed’s place to mow the lawn and I
saw Dana was out, cleaning some rugs. She was using the back of a large wooden
scrub brush to beat the dust and sand from a small floor mat, which had been
pinned to the clothesline. She was wailing on it full force, her left arm swinging
higher and higher in the air, tirelessly slamming into the dusty ol’ rug. She was
spanking the rug!
I guess she saw me standing there, sort of awestruck, frozen, and silent. At last
she stopped swinging the brush. She smiled and waved and then retrieved the
rug from the line and went into the house. Now, I wanted a spanking from her
more than ever!
I imagined myself over her firm lap, with my bare bottom exposed to the
sunlight, as she smacked my reddening cheeks with her brush. Of course, in my
dream it didn’t hurt. I was just lying there, across her thighs, smiling and
ontent. The birds were chirping, the wind rustled through the trees, and I was
happily getting spanked.
I told myself that I needed to find a way to talk to her, to bring it up. She had
always been so kind and friendly, surely if I asked her to spank me it would be
her neighbourly duty to oblige. Sort of like borrowing a cup of sugar. No big
deal, perfectly normal.
In reality, I would probably be too embarrassed to even ask for a cup of sugar.
I could never say the word spanking in polite company and I knew there was no
way I could ask this woman, a real friend of the family, to spank me. Forget it.
Keep dreaming. But she was very friendly, and easy to talk to. I often found
myself staring into her big brown eyes, absorbing her wisdom about life and the
pursuit of happiness. Then one day, she offered me some advice about getting
spanked.
Well, she didn’t really put it that way. And actually, I never really mentioned
spanking in any way. But she did have some advice and possibly a tactic to get
what I wanted out of life. She told me to make a wish. She told me she had gone
to the wooden bridge in the park on several occasions, and would drop a coin into
the pond below. She said she would often make a wish for a solution to a
problem that had been particularly elusive, and those wishes most often came
true. She laughed because she figured there must be a fortune lying on the
sandy bottom of the pond, for all of the wishes she had made.
That is why I went there; to wish for a spanking from Dana.
I let me arm dangle over the water’s surface, gently swinging back and forth. I
stared in the black, cold water, and noticed my reflection staring back at me. I
focused on the image of what I wanted, and imagined the feel of her hand as it
spanked my bottom, her firm thighs holding me steady, and the cracking echo of
the sound of flesh upon flesh. The coin fell from my finger tips and made a
gentle splash below. It quickly sank from view and the water’s surface was once
again calm and flat. Now I felt silly to have believed this would bring me
happiness, but I was determined to try everything to make it happen.
* * * * * * *
Some time had passed since that day on the little wooden bridge, and I had all
but forgotten about scheming to get a spanking. It had sort of fallen away from
my immediate thoughts, and I had begun to focus on “more important” things in
my life, like working and studying. But it is when you least expect it, without
warning, that those wishes can come true.
Uncle Ed had asked me to help Dana chop down a little ol’ tree that was leaning
up against her shed. It hadn’t grown very big – not more than two or three
inches thick at the base – and it had been dead for nearly two summers now.
Dana wanted it out, so she could replant and use the wood for her little stove
this winter.
It was a warm afternoon and I had been working in her yard since early morning,
nearly without a break. The tree was down at this point, and I was breaking up
the branches and tying bundles for easy stacking. I needed to take a break, and
I looked longingly to my empty glass on the picnic table for refreshment.
Instead, I sat for a moment in the shade to catch my breath.
The big wooden brush Dana had used earlier was lying on the armchair beside
me. My eyes were drawn to its smooth, worn surface. The long handle had
certainly been gripped many times by someone who could wield it firmly. The
once shiny lacquer finish had long since flaked away, and now the natural wood
surface was exposed to the elements. I held it in my hand and felt its heft. It
was definitely balanced to swing with one hand, built to last. I couldn’t help but
imagine this work-brush doing its work on me. I held it in one hand and smacked
it on my thigh, to get a feel for its potential. Even through my jeans, it left a
mighty sting. Imagine on my bare cheeks…? I was awash with emotions, barely
able to focus, feeling flushed with the thoughts of spanking yet again. I through
the brush back onto the cushion of the arm chair, stood up and turned away. I
had to get a hold of myself.
Taking a big breath, I walked back towards the log pile. I felt a different kind
of aching now, most probably due to the three glasses of lemonade I had
chugged since this morning. It had been several hours since I had gone to the
bathroom and now there was no holding on. Dana had said she would be out for
the day and I didn’t feel like trekking across the big yard back to Uncle Ed’s
house, so I found an alternative. I crept around towards the back of the shed
and looked around. I was just about hidden from Dana’s house and, tucked
between the bushes and the shed, no one could see me from the street or
towards Uncle Ed’s.
I undid my jeans and let them fall to my ankles. A cool breeze tickled the back
of my exposed thighs as I stood there in my white cotton underwear. I lowered
y briefs in front and let nature take its course, while I supported myself on
the side of the shed with my right hand.
I was only there for a moment but a moment was long enough.
When I was done, I zipped up and turned back to work. Looking over the
branches and woodpile, I didn’t expect to have more than another hour of work.
Just about ten minutes later Dana suddenly came out of the house, carrying a
tall glass of lemonade. She asked me how the job was going and how much longer
I would need to finish. I replied that the job was progressing smoothly and that
I was nearly finished. She smiled and replied, “Good.” She set the glass of
lemonade down on the table.
“I thought you might like a refreshment,” she smiled. “Since you just emptied
yourself on the bushes over there.” She waved towards the shed and back
bushes where I had just relieved myself. I began to blush. She turned to me and
said, “Come in and see me when you are done. We need to have a talk.”
Busted! She saw me. What did she see? How much? Oh, no. This was very
awkward.
I busied myself finishing up the bundles of branches and restacked the wood up
against the fence, just like she wanted. I glanced over at the glass of lemonade,
glistening in the sunshine of the weaning hours of the afternoon. I wasn’t
thirsty.
About an hour later I looked around the yard and decided I was finished. I
brushed off the bits of earth and sawdust from my jeans and t-shirt, and
turned to leave. Then I noticed the brush was gone. I had left it on one of the
big, comfy armchairs and now it was gone. My eyes darted around the yard to
see if Dana had simply moved it, or returned it to the hook on the back wall. No,
it was definitely gone.
I grabbed the tall glass of lemonade and dumped it in the bushes. I couldn’t
even take a sip. Then, I knocked on the back patio door to Dana’s house. It
wasn’t long before she came through the kitchen and slid open the glass door in
front of me.
“All done?” She asked. “Yes, Ma’am”. I replied. She gestured for me to come in.
“Nice,” she continued. “Come in for a minute. I need to talk to you.”
I stepped inside and crouched down to untie my boots. She stood above me with
her arms crossed, waiting for me to step out of them. As I stood, I noticed the
ig brush had been brought inside. The long handled work-brush was on the
kitchen table, beside the empty lemonade glass I had handed to Dana earlier. I
gulped in trepidation. She gestured for me to have a seat. I pulled out a wooden,
straight-backed kitchen chair and did as I was told. She stood before me with
her arms crossed.
“Did you do what I think you did outside?” She glared at me waiting for a
response. I couldn’t think of a single word to say. My face went flush with
warmth. I feigned ignorance.
“Do what?” I asked.
Dana stepped closer to me and looked at me square in the face.
“Did you pee in the bushes?” She raised her voice and was looking at me,
perplexed and frustrated.
I could only nod in confession.
A flurry of words and expletives flew from her lips, and she became more angry
than I had ever seen her before. She was ashamed of me and absolutely beside
herself with frustration, as to why I had not simply gone inside to use the
bathroom. I was mortified and ashamed.
At last she had had enough and was about to storm out of the room, when
abruptly she reach for my arm and stood me up. In an instant she was sitting in
the chair I had vacated and she turned me around.
“Happy to lower your jeans in public, hmm?” She began to fumble with the
button on my jeans. In a flash it was undone, and she began to yank them down.
However, much to my surprise, as she jerked my jeans down, so came my
underwear, in one fell swoop, and both were soon bunched at my knees.
“We can’t have you peeing in public”, she scolded. “Maybe this will help you
remember”.
With that, she flung me over her knee.
It all happened in slow motion: My pants down; over her knee; her right arm
gripping me tightly; her left hand raining down on my bare cheeks. There was
that crack! that I had imagined; the sound of flesh on flesh smartly and firmly.
It definitely hurt a lot more than I expected. I don’t know how many she gave
me, but I sure know I couldn’t count. I could only think about the pain in my
ackside, as I tried to twist from her spanks. It was hopeless to try to avoid
those spanks, and I laid upon her lap, with my bare bum reddening under her
hand, apologizing and pleading.
Then suddenly, it stopped. I thought it was over and I tried to get up, but Dana
was not ready yet. From the corner of my eye, I saw her reach for the big
brush on the kitchen table. Now, I was very much doubting my ability to take a
spanking with that implement.
“You know,” she softly spoke to me… “You had better be careful what you wish
for…” I couldn’t understand. How did she…?
But then, Dana knows.
She just does.