Here is an excerpt from an ebook of mine called Ted and the Suburban Spanking Club. In this book, Ted, a bachelor, moves into a neighborhood populated by some very swinging singles and divorcees who form a card club. According to the rules of the club, card games are not played for money; instead winners and losers engage in some very interesting forfeits.
In this excerpt, Ted describes an encounter with Diane, a widow and one of the regulars at the card game.
Art by “Aces”; photo by Firmhandspanking.com
Several days later I ran into Diane at the grocery store.
“I have been meaning to call you,” I said.
“Sure. You know what? You’ve been naughty, but I’m in a good mood. Come over tonight around eight? I’ll tell you a story.”
I sure couldn’t resist, even in view of the “naughty” admonishment, so at eight there I was. Diane had made a terrific lasagna, and after we had polished it off together with a bottle of Merlot, she got around to her story.
“I never told you about how our ‘official paddle’ came to be,” she began.
“I thought your late husband had it.”
“He didn’t have it when we married. He made it. And I’ll never forget the day he did. I guess I’d been particularly bratty that day. We were trying to get ready to go on a trip and I was in such a mood. He couldn’t do anything right. I wanted to bag the trip. I was sulky and irritable. Finally he said he’d had enough. I thought uh, oh he’s gonna put me over his knee and tan me again. He’d done this maybe two times since the first time. I’d be good for awhile then revert to my old self. So I thought–oh no! But he didn’t–right then. He just got this…this …look on his face and motioned for me to follow him.”
“We had a garage and he had a workshop in there. We went in. He told me to sit and watch, and he powered up this saw, you know the one where the saw goes up and down?”
“Yeah, a jigsaw. Anyway he takes this piece of plywood, about 1/2″ thick and starts cutting. I’m thinking ‘what is this’, but I don’t move. He had that look and I got this shiver down my spine. He cut for awhile, then he took the sander and worked on it. I couldn’t see what it was, but I knew it was bad news for me. He finished and showed it to me. It was the paddle. I almost died! I said ‘what are you going to do with that?’ As if I didn’t know. He said ‘you are going to finish sanding this and then you will bring it to me in the house’. He gave me a fresh piece of sandpaper and said, ‘do a good job, you don’t want any rough edges’. And you know, I did do a good job. Realizing that he was about to use this on my butt made me scared and excited all at the same time. And I did not want to get splinters, so you bet I did a good job.”
“I decided to go him one better. I knew I was going to get my ass blistered, but I thought I’d show him how obedient and submissive I could be. Maybe he would let me off easy. So I took off all my clothes–left them in the garage, and I marched into our bedroom stark naked, paddle in hand. Actually I put the paddle on a pillow from the couch and carried it in like a slave girl going to her master for punishment. He was packing a suitcase and when he saw me come in, all in the buff, the paddle presented on a pillow, his eyes got as big as saucers. I think something else did too,” she giggled.
“I knelt down and said something about ‘your naughty slave girl requesting punishment, sir’. I thought, I hoped, he would laugh and let me off. No such luck. He asked me if I’d ever heard that old lore about a sword unsheathed cannot be returned unused. I said no, and he took the paddle off the pillow and said “once the paddle comes out, it cannot be put away unused.”
“I started backing up, but he grabbed my arm and sat down on the bed. He pulled me over his knee ‘til my ass was high in the air with my body sprawled across his lap. I knew the cool breeze on my ass wouldn’t last long and I was right. He smacked me with that paddle and it stung like fire. The burning shock from that first splat was like nothing I’d ever felt. The sound was like a firecracker–deafening in that small bedroom. And many more smacks followed. He gave my little fanny a sound tanning, one that stung worse than anything up to that point. And in thinking back on it, I know he wasn’t spanking me very hard, ’cause later there were times when I got it worse. I tried to be brave, but after just a few smacks with that thing I was blubbering and crying and kicking. It must have been a sight–Chuck fully dressed and me stark naked, bouncing across his knee while he paddled my fanny with these ringing smacks that just burned hotter and hotter. The first few smacks tingled, then it started to sting like crazy, then it just felt like heat. But I also felt the heat spread and it aroused me. That whole feeling of being overpowered and punished…naked, with a paddling like a slave girl–it really turned me on. And afterwards, mmmmm…we delayed our trip a whole day.
“Well, after that I had to varnish and brush the paddle with steel wool. Over the next week after our trip when each coat dried he would ‘test’ it. On me. He’d tell me to bring him the paddle. I’d take my pants down, bend over and take 5 licks. When he was satisfied with the finish, he tied a little thong through the handle and hung it on a nail in the closet. But it wasn’t so bad–each test earned me a trip to the bedroom as well. Nothing turned Chuck on like the sight of my paddled hiney. And a well warmed bottom really got me going, too. After that whenever he was put out with me all he had to say was ‘go get the paddle, Diane’. I would get this cold chill and a hot flash all at the same time. He was a terrific lover and a great husband and he didn’t put up with any petulant crap from me. And I loved him for it.”
I understood her loss. And her need. She put her arms around my neck and pressed her body to mine. She said wanted to make love slowly that night. But before we started, she pulled my belt out through the loops of my pants and doubled it. She thwacked it against her palm a few times, testing it. It was an old one and very supple. She handed it to me and with a smile told me she felt “naughty”. I cracked it against my palm with a thwack and told her to bend over. She did, hoisting her skirt to her hips exposing her pert behind clad in thin lavender panties. I slid them to her ankles baring her white jutting moons. She stuck her adorable rear up and I gave her 20 slow medium hard licks that had her squirming with desire. It took me awhile to put the fire out.