The Health Club is a 25,000+ word novella about a fitness center that guarantees results. And with good reason -- you will attend workout classes or else. It's the "or else" that makes for an intriguing story. Throw in a boy-meets-girl romance and a jealous and domineering female trainer and you have a multi-way spank fest that keeps on coming. This is a switch story with M/F, F/M and F/F scenes (just so no one feels neglected). A companion novella, "Certificate of Correction" explores a world in which young people may elect "the CP option." Accept a session of corporal punishment and the slate will be wiped clean. Enter a new probation officer and her boyfriend. She must learn to use the implements of chastisement herself -- it's part of her job. Who can she enlist to help her? That's what boyfriends are for.
Here is a sample F/M excerpt:
The time came, though, when Danny missed three in a row. He was tired and didn't feel like going a third time that week. "So I have to listen to a lecture," he thought, "no big deal." To his dismay, it was Sandra who gave him the word.
"You and I need to have a little talk, Danny. You have missed a whole week without coming to at least three classes. Meet me at the front desk tomorrow at 5:00pm. Wear regular workout gear." She had fixed him with a thin smile as she gave him the news. It was a little unnerving, thought Danny, like being caught at some naughty deed by the homeroom teacher and called to account. Sandra’s look was unsettling. And what about that boyfriend story? He had to admit to himself that he had been avoiding her. Was this to be some sort of payback?
Still, Danny was curious and was feeling the faint stirrings of desire; Sandra was gorgeous, and she did seem to like him. Besides, it sounded like the worst that would happen is that he might have to do sit ups for her or something. It’s not like I’m this Todd character, he thought.
So, the next day when Danny met Sandra at the front desk, he wore his workout shorts and a tank top as he’d been told. He fidgeted nervously, waiting. Other club members gave him knowing looks as they passed by, like he was some schoolboy waiting in the hallway outside the school office. Then Sandra appeared. She was dressed as usual in white short shorts and an abbreviated tee shirt that exposed her navel and proudly displayed her ample bust. The sight of her in that get up always made Danny’s pulse race.
"Well Danny, I regret this is necessary but you will follow me to the session room and cooperate fully."
Danny nodded hesitantly while she added, "Failure to comply with this program will result in cancellation of your contract and forfeiture of all funds due."
Holy cow! He hadn’t known that. "Ok, but what are we going to do?" queried Danny. This whole thing was starting to sound way too serious. Why did he have this feeling like he was headed for the principal’s office?
"Just follow me," said Sandra in clipped tone of voice.
They took an elevator to a basement in the building that Danny never even knew existed. At the basement level was a corridor. Sandra led the way, presenting Danny with the opportunity to observe once again the luscious sway of her rear. Despite the strange nature of the situation, Danny began to feel distinctly aroused. His erection caused his shorts to develop a tent. They were alone, in close quarters, in a deserted area of the building and a subtle power shift had become apparent. But Sandra was very much in charge, and this thought was making Danny uneasy. Images of the Todd story flashed in his mind.
Sandra opened a door at the end of the corridor and flipped on the light switch. Danny let out an involuntary gasp as he entered the room. The room was Spartan except for a strange object at its center. It was a short square platform with a T-shaped pipe sticking up in its middle forming a pair of handles at knee height. There was a sturdy desk and an armless straight-backed chair at one side of the room away from the T-bar platform. Acoustic insulation lined the walls. The most alarming feature of the room was, however, the wooden paddles that hung on a nail behind the desk.
Before Danny could even open his mouth, Sandra commanded him not to say a word but to stand in front of the desk. As she sat down and took a ledger from a drawer, Danny managed to stammer, "Now wait a minute! You don’t seriously intend to paddle me with that thing?" he said, pointing to the paddle on the wall.
The paddles were just like ones he had seen in high school. They looked formidable. On each one was a name, and Danny realized that these were the names of the club’s trainers.
"Danny," began Sandra," you agreed to this when you signed the contract. If you walk out of this room, you are out of the club and you must still pay the remaining balance of your contract. Frankly, I think a little talk here with me right now will help motivate you to take this club's rules seriously and you will achieve your goal. But, it’s your choice."
Danny saw that he was trapped. He was ashamed to just quit, and on top of that his arousal had begun to run rampant. The thought of turning himself over to Sandra for a paddling was embarrassing, but also exciting in a strange way he didn’t understand.
"For a first time offender, Danny, the club feels that 10 licks with the paddle will encourage you to attend classes as we insist. It's really for your own good. You will remember this the next time you think you are tired or just don't want to bother. You might like to know that every staff member here has gone through an even more vigorous regime. And as you can see," she said, rising and turning around to unclip her paddle from the wall, "they had plenty to work with on me." The last comment was delivered with a hearty smile and a pat to her bottom, which filled out her tight white shorts to perfection.
She took the paddle off its hook and turned. "Let’s go Danny, sign the book here and we will get this over with. When I countersign it we are done."
Danny’s heart was threatening to burst through his chest. A cold sweat had broken out. She’s really going to paddle my ass with that thing. It’s to get back at me for ignoring her and spending time with Tracy. "Please Sandra, now, not too hard, ok? I'll go through with this because I want to continue here."
Even as he said it, Danny’s mind flashed through every childhood punishment he’d ever had at the hands of a woman: his mother spanking his bare bottom when he was six for playing in the street; Betsy Collins, a babysitter, spanking him for refusing to go to bed when he was eight; Mrs. Freeny, his seventh grade teacher handing out a paddling to him and two other boys when he was thirteen. Sandra’s voice snapped him out of his reverie.
"Danny, are you listening? Ten licks is ten licks, but you can take it. Your little girlfriend Tracy took ten from Chrissy soon after she joined, and she didn’t quit."
Well, thought Danny, so it is about me and Tracy. But if Tracy can hold still for 10 swats I can surely stand it.
He took a deep breath to calm his nerves. "What do you want me to do?"
"Step onto the platform, bend over and hold onto the handles," commanded Sandra, pointing at the T-bar with the paddle. "Do not let go or that swat will not count."
Danny stepped onto the box and bent over, grabbing the twin handles of the short T. The posture stretched his shorts tight across his buttocks. The feeling was one of vulnerability and intense embarrassment. Sandra stepped up and positioned herself to Danny's left. She patted both cheeks of his fanny, and he flinched at the light contact. Assuming a proper stance, she drew her arm back.
Danny gritted his teeth and tensed his body. Here it comes, he thought.
Swinging in a long horizontal arc, she delivered the first swat with a deft wrist-snapping motion at the end.
CRACK! The paddle struck Danny square across the lower part of his bottom. An instant flush of red heat engulfed Danny’s backside.
"Yeeeow" cried Danny, unable to believe how much it stung.
"That's one, Danny. Here's two." Danny heard a whoosh and then…
CRACK! "Ouch, oh God that stings...please...not so hard." Danny could not believe the smarting sting. His eyes began to water.
SMACK! "Ow!Yow!stop!" entreated Danny, now panicked.
WHACK! Another swat seared his bottom. "Four!" intoned Sandra.
"For God's sake, please ... no more," cried Danny who felt that the awful sting was so intense that he was losing control. He let go and stood up, clutching his rear cheeks.
"That one did not count, you stood up and let go of the handles," said Sandra." Bend right back over, put your fanny in the air, and don't move."
Gasping now, Danny complied.
CRACK! Another smack seared his rear end.
" Owwww!" wailed Danny, "I can't take any more. Really!"
Danny stood up again, frantically rubbing his stinging bottom. That one had really hurt.
"I cannot have this, Danny. Please stay in position and take it like a man," said Sandra in a flat tone. She patted the paddle against her bare thigh impatiently.
"I can't … I can't ... it just hurts too much," pleaded Danny. He had gone beyond his ability to take it. The intensity of the awful sting had been stunning. He’d never expected it to hurt THAT much.
"If you can't hold still, I will have to do this the old-fashioned way,” said Sandra ominously. She returned to the desk and, sliding a drawer open, pulled out a short wooden paddle about the size of a ping pong paddle.
"What do you mean?" glubbed Danny.
"Just this!" said Sandra, grasping Danny by the earlobe and walking him over toward the chair. She grabbed the short paddle with her other hand, and tugged Danny by the ear. Danny's head twisted in pain as he stumbled ignominiously after her. Seating herself in the chair, she flipped Danny face down across her well-muscled thighs and clamped her left arm across his back in a steely grip.
"What are you doing!?" cried Danny." Let me go!!" He could not believe this. She had him over her knee like when he was eight years old and Betsy Collins had spanked him. He remembered how embarrassed he’d been then, wriggling over her knee, his PJ’s at his knees while she had spanked him until his bottom had been a hot pink and he’d cried. That was nothing compared to now.
"Since you won't take your licks like a man, I'm going to
give them to you like a little boy!"