The Romance of Chastisement

The Romance of Chastisement

Saturday, January 24, 2015

F/M Spanking Sunday -- Red Saturday

It's not always about punishment, although the drama of crime and punishment usually makes for a better story. No, sometimes it's just about couples having fun. Here's a domestic scene that illustrates this point. The author is anonymous. I have absolutely no data on this one, so if it's you, write me and tell me.
Art by Redrump

RED SATURDAY



Jim looked at his watch, but not for the reason most men out with their buddies
at the local bar would be carefully tracking the time.  His curfew was open,
and accepted by his adoring wife.  On the other hand, his punishment was also
guaranteed.  Overall a delightful little game he and Holly played routinely.
However these once a month "boy's night out" adventures were followed by
special "red bottom" Saturdays.  

He felt his pulse quicken a bit at the mere thought.  While he did enjoy the
freedom to spend the time with his friends, some going back to high school, it
was really all a prelude to the main event.  The others were happy to escape
the "old ball and chain" while he looked forward to the events that would start
early tomorrow.  Thus, his curfew was self inflicted.  He didn't want to be too
tired, or too hung over to enjoy "the game".  He cherished the love they
shared.  She knew he would never stray, and was comfortable allowing him
freedom the others didn't have.  Their shared "dirty little secret" provided a
bond that other couples could only envy.

Obviously, it went beyond their mutual spanking interest.  Still, the interest
was such a integral part of each, that such a deep commitment would have been
impossible without that important link.  

It was almost midnight, and Jim ordered his last drink of the evening.  He'd
catch a cab home, wake his lovely wife (pretending to be impatiently waiting
while really dozing contentedly on the couch) and absorb her playful scolding.
She would smack his fully clothed bottom a few times, still playful but firm,
and promise him a full day of punishment.  All punctuated by a mischievous
sparkle from her deep blue eyes.  Even in his semi-drunken state, the
fluttering anticipation churned within him.  He smiled at the thought of the
following morning, and the afternoon . . .  and certainly the evening.

The night had been great fun.  They had started at the bowling alley, rolled
three games, then ended up at the sports bar that always housed the final hours
of these evenings.  They told raunchy jokes, shot pool, watched the end of the
football game, and drank heavily.  As expected, Alex, the youngest of the merry
gang, dashed out early.  He always said he had to work in the morning, and that
the boss would have his ass if he were out too late.  Jim knew the boss was
quite the looker, and even if she was probably ten years older than Alex, he
suspected there was more than mere work involved.  As for the "have his ass"
comment, well Jim wondered about that too (but that is another story).

Fred, the senior of the bunch, always left around midnight.  It was amazing how
even this supposed unplanned, impromptu, albeit regularly scheduled, adventure,
had developed its own expected sequence of events.  Jim would be the next to
leave.  The remaining crew would stay till closing.  They chided the
"pussy-whipped" others, always asking who ran their respective households, and
who wore the pants.  However, it never bothered or deterred the three "early
outs".  So as Jim finished his drink, called a cab, and announced his
departure, he knew the jabs to expect.  If only they knew the thrills waiting
at home . . . if only they knew . . .

He waited outside in the crisp autumn air.  It was sobering, and refreshing.
The noise from the bar seeped into the night, but it was still fairly tranquil.
 The cacophony still echoed in his head, and it was a relief to escape it.  He
finished the last of the awful cigar (another part of the ritual these night's
embraced) and thankfully tossed it toward the curb.  Jim always made one cigar
last the whole night, not remotely enjoying it, but enduring it as part of the
whole evening.  Although relighting it throughout the night seemed to make it
progressively worse, smoking more than one would surely have him green around
the gills.  And, he had important things to do in the morning.

The taxi pulled up, and dashed him home to the expected events that would close
the night, and yet signal the opening of the following day's activities.  His
excitement grew, in every way, during the brief ride home.  Fortunately his
long coat would do double duty, insulation from both the crisp temperature, as
well as any potential embarrassment as he got out of the cab.

He woke Holly with the stale, hackneyed line that had, through repetition,
developed a bit of humor.

        "The taxi stopped with a jerk, and here I am."

        She awoke, scolded as predicted, smacked his bottom, flashed a roguish smile,
then both headed to bed, knowing, and soon dreaming of the gifts "red bottom"
Saturday would surely bestow.

Jim woke first, feeling no ill effects from the previous inebriated evening.
He sleepily went to the kitchen, and made the morning's coffee.  Although both
he and Holly would be chomping at the bit, anxious to get started, they would
savor a cup or two of coffee, and some playful banter before unleashing their
desires.  He retrieved the morning paper from the front step, and glanced at
the front page before diving into the sports section.  Even that held little
interest for him this morning.  He liked the dread and desire of the morning,
and the distraction it caused.  His thoughts unable to settle on anything else,
as the forthcoming activities continued to pick at the edges of his mind.

Certainly the day would be filled with many spankings.  Firm, sound spankings.
However, never pressed to the point of severe or brutal.  They would all be
erotic in nature, even if intense, with perhaps a slight overtone of
discipline.  But even that would just be part of the fun.  His buddies would
never understand this aspect of his life, if, heaven forbid, they ever knew
about it.  Hell, they questioned his "manliness", and who ran his household, by
the mere fact that he left the bar a few hours before closing time.  They'd
never understand that, outside these games he and his loving wife enjoyed, he
was the leader of the house.  Overall, a true democracy, a fifty-fifty
relationship.  Yet on a day to day level, Holly expected him to "be the man"
and lead.

So, while these days were joyous, and allowed Holly the opportunity to be fully
in charge,  they were not a microcosm of everyday life at the household.
Simply put, this was about sex.  Wonderful, glorious, earth moving sex.  Neither
wanted a dominant/submissive relationship.  It was just a fun walk in fantasy.
The coffee finally finished brewing.  The coffee maker seemed intent on proving
that watched pots never boil, always seeming to require twice as long when one
waited.  Jim filled two cups, supplying the desired respective additives to
both.  He took a sip of his own, before trudging back up the steps to the
bedroom.  He was awake, and felt fine, but until he finished the first cup of
coffee, he would not be completely alive.

Holly was stirring, still snug under the covers, as he re-entered the room.
"Good morning, Beautiful."
She sat up and smiled, already a wicked sparkle in her eyes.  She looked at the
clock, and with a sly wink remarked that it was strange she would sleep this
late on THIS day.
"Mmmm, you brought me some coffee. Thanks.  If I didn't know you better, I may
think you were trying to get out of your spankings."
"Well, my dear, if I didn't know YOU better, I may believe a mere cup of
coffee, even though dutifully brought to your bedside, would actually influence
your sense of mercy."
"You do know me so well.  But, Mister, let me assure you that I know more than
a little about you.  I know you would be soooooo disappointed if my sense of
justice was so easily swayed.  Your kindness, much appreciated kindness, as I
do so love my first cup of coffee served in bed, is graciously accepted.
However, before too long, your spankable behind is mine."

And so the playful banter went.  Verbal foreplay that moved the game to the
next level.  Each expressing their love for the other, in the gentlest of
terms, even as the familiar buzz words peppered the conversation.  Jim got them a
second cup of coffee from the kitchen, knowing the final countdown was at hand.
 
The apprehension was at its peak.  His insides quivered with a sense of fear,
combined with desire, anxiety, and pure unashamed lust.
His hike back up the steps was far more buoyant, though less from the coffee
than the lively conversation.  When he stepped through the door, Holly made a
simple request that elevated the play to the next level.

"Could you be a Dear, and bring the hairbrush from my dresser?  I mean since
you are up, and may not be so again for a while."
Jim felt his pulse race as he picked up the wicked wooden brush.  He and this
item had a love/hate relationship.  He handed Holly both her coffee and the
brush, unable to look her in the eye.  She smacked the brush firmly into her
palm a few times.

"James, you seem nervous.  It is an innocent brush.  Or have you been a naughty
boy?  Been neglecting your chores?  Staying out too late?"
He never really knew what to say at this moment.  Of course he had been
neglecting his chores.  THEY had been neglecting their chores.  Somehow "red
bottom" Saturday had also become the day they caught up on the items that were
lost in the everyday rat race.  Most weekends they enjoyed leisure time
together. Dinners out, shopping, hiking, perhaps a concert.  Weekdays were a
blur as they pursued their careers, the necessary life maintenance details, and
still made a point to allow a bit of time for romance.

Holly interrupted his silent thoughts.
"James, your silence speaks volumes, so you might as well get out of those
undies before sitting and finishing your coffee.  You won't be needing them for
a while, and I dare say, after your coffee, you won't be sitting down for a
while, either."

Her tone was playfully stern.  In these moments it always hit the right nerve,
and even as Jim stripped from his underwear, the only clothing he had on, his
erection was beginning to grow and twitch.  He blushed, which he found odd
given their years together.

"Come sit beside me and enjoy your coffee."  She tapped the brush repeatedly in
the assigned spot on the bed, knowing it contrasted with her word "enjoy".  Jim
sat where instructed, every bit of his body tingling with the moment.  Part
wanting to flee, part needing this to continue and savoring it.

Soon the cups were empty, and Jim found himself draped across Holly's lap, as
she sat in the middle of the bed.  Her hand massaged his upturned bottom,
sending jolts of excitement into his stiff arousal.  Her hand raised, and he
clenched in anticipation.  She always started with hard, slow, steady spanks.
Each one fully absorbed before the next one landed, as she alternated from side
to side.  His bottom clenched, and his legs kicked a bit.  Her stinging hand
always caused his erection to wilt during these harsh segments.

After a couple dozen well paced intense spanks, when she was certain she had
his undivided attention, the force of the blows was diminished.  Jim's bottom
had acclimated itself to the sensation of her hand and he began arching in
anticipation of the next delicious swat.  She always found the precise level.
The one perfectly described by the expression "warming".  An element of pain,
but the pleasure eclipsed it.  In fact it really became a delicious feeling,
which was made more so by the pain that seasoned it.

Though lighter, the spanks were faster, and scattered.  Soon every inch of his
bottom had gone beyond pink, to a deep red.  His arousal was at full glory,
massaging itself between her thighs in perfect rhythm with the steady slaps.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the intensity built.  Her hand was soon landing
with far greater force than used at the very beginning of the spanking.  His
tempered cheeks, and his growing lust, allowed him to accept the harsh slaps
with only the slightest discomfort, and the greatest of delight and
satisfaction.

He ached for release, but knew she would never allow it. Not yet.  Her hand
stopped, and he knew she was reloading, and grabbing the punishing hair brush.
She repeated the process used earlier.  Paddling his bottom with a slow series
of intense swats.  Again his erection withered.  He bucked, and writhed from
the sharp, crisp brush.  His cheeks clenched in sincere apprehension, but it
offered no protection or comfort.  Soon the brush began landing lighter,
offering a delicious kiss to his thoroughly scorched behind.  As quickly as it
had faded, his arousal returned.

"James, you are really being quite naughty.  This is not supposed to be for
your pleasure.  I believe you had your fun last night, drinking and staying out
all hours."  Her tone was teasing and pleasant.

"Now I want you to get up, and pleasure me with your sweet probing tongue.  I
do so enjoy admiring your lovely red bottom as you slowly drive me to ecstacy."
He climbed from her lap, as she positioned herself on the bed to allow full
view of the site she savored.  She was hot and wet, already at the brink.
Spanking him was always the ultimate turn on for her.  As such, the drive to
  ecstasy was not slow, and soon she moaned as the waves of orgasm swept over
her.  Always loving to push her to complete frenzy, Jim continued licking,
exploring, and savoring her until she begged him to stop.

She was limp, basking in the moment.  Jim was always pleased with his ability
to satiate her erotic desires.  Even as his own twitching, stiffness screamed
for its own relief, he felt only complete satisfaction with his handiwork.
Besides, he knew she would soon drive him into his own frenzy of pulsing
pleasure.

"James, are you still hard?  Tsk tsk.  Such a naughty boy, you leave me no
choice but to spank you again.  Get back over my lap."
He scurried across her lap, his rigidness nestling between her soft thighs.
His red, warm bottom arched up and begging for the "punishment" she had
promised.  She always amazed him with her ability to find the perfect tempo,
and intensity when she wanted to spank him to blissful orgasm.  Of course, he
was in such a state by the time she allowed him relief, that probably anything
short of brutal would have accomplished her goal.  The fire in his behind grew
as rapidly as his impending explosive climax.  In minutes he was convulsing,
and spurting, then collapsing.

"I hope you learned your lesson, Mister."  She laughed merrily.
Satiated and replete, they showered and went to the local diner for an early
lunch.  The morning's activities had carried beyond a reasonable breakfast
hour.  Holly enjoyed his discomfort as he sat in the hard wooden booth, and
teased him playfully.  Soon her hand reached under the table cloth, and gently
rubbed him.  Massaging him to full life, then, in a whisper, scolding him for
such naughtiness in public.

"You obviously have not learned your lesson yet.  When we get home, I'll have
to paddle you again.  Then, young man, you have chores to do.  The lawn needs
to be raked, before it is one big leaf pile, and that garage needs cleaned.  Do
you understand?"

He gasped an excited "Yes" as she continued fondling him.  Even with a freshly
spanked bottom, the thought of her seated in the official straight back
punishment chair, paddling his bare behind, was heavenly.
Fortunately the food came before he did, so her hands busied themselves with
that.  He felt flush and warm, certain everyone in the place, although they all
seemed oblivious, was aware of the sexual sparks flying between him and his
precious wife.  The conversation turned to light silly things as they enjoyed
their meal.  Both of them lost in their own lustful, arousing thoughts.

The moment they walked into the door, she was leading him to the waiting
special chair in the living room.  The large, thin paddle was placed on the
seat.  She had obviously planned this last night, and made all of the necessary
preparations.  It had a delightful sting, though Jim suspected his still
burning bottom may object a bit today, and was large enough to cover both
cheeks with each spank.  He greatly preferred it to the biting, thick, small
brush.  She stripped him from the waist down, while scolding him for his
terrible, nasty behavior at the restaurant.  Ironic humor, and fun, but
scolding nonetheless.

Soon the paddle echoed off the walls of the room in a steady percussion.
Holly
pushed him to his limit, as his bottom jumped and squirmed, but never escaped.
It was fast, but not furious, as she rapidly lit up her still red target.  Her
grip tightened as she finished with a more intense volley that had him kicking
and flailing.  She did have a wicked streak in her that loved that view, that
moment, and that feeling of power.  Nothing else could fan the flames of her
sexual desires like pressing him slightly beyond the real pleasure zone.

She released him, and savored his efforts to rub the fire out of his well
paddled, sore bottom.  She all but ripped off her own clothes before
unbuttoning his shirt, and pushing him down to the floor.  The carpet nipped at
his hot backside, a feeling oddly pleasant, especially coupled with her gentle
stokes, as she quickly worked him back to stiff excitement.

She straddled him, and slid him deep within her.  He watched as she rocked,
swayed, and undulated.  Her eyes slightly closed, feasting on, and cherishing,
the splendid feelings.  Her pert breasts heaved with the deep breaths of her
excitement.  The scratching carpet, her sweet warmth, the glow in his bottom .
. . it took all his concentration to hold back.  Then she got that look, that
telltale look, followed by a sharp gasp, and he allowed himself to release his
own rapture deep within her.  They moaned in near unison as she draped over
him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and hugged him tightly.

They shared soft kisses and sweet words, enveloped, and feeling as one.
The chores filled the afternoon, accompanied by their continued flirting
and teasing.  During the process they had decided to prepare a lovely dinner at
home, complete with candlelight and wine.

As expected, the shared dinner preparation allowed Holly to playfully swat his
still tender rear with a myriad of kitchen implements.  She was sorry the day
had passed so quickly, while Jim was feeling a certain sense of relief that it
was ending.  It had been fun, but his bottom was almost worn out.  He would
need a few days of recovery before they returned to their ongoing sporadic
spanking play that ever so delightfully sprinkled into their steamy sex
adventures.  Even still he enjoyed the horse play in the kitchen, keeping a
watchful eye on his mischievous wife, knowing she would take full advantage of
every opportunity.

Darkness had almost completely overtaken the day, with only a few shreds of
light still filtering through the windows.  The candles provided the perfect
ambiance for an ideal romantic dinner.  They ate in relative silence, sharing
only a few tender words, and adoring glances.  They both knew the day would
finish with an early flight up the stairs to the bedroom.  Soon she would be
massaging his tender bottom, eventually spanking it tenderly.

They would end the day with ecstatic love-making, followed by Holly snuggling
into his arms, musing that "red bottom" Saturdays should be ongoing, not just
once a month.  Jim would simply reply, "Don't push it, Sweets.  The old gray
man, he ain't what he used to be."  Then, in delightful exhaustion they would
turn out the lights, and in unison complete the game . . .

"I do so love you."

Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Guest Post-- The Yacht by David Ellis


This story is by someone named David Ellis. As far as I can tell it appeared in 1999, maybe on Usenet. It's a voyeur's tale. We see this incredible scene unfold through the eyes of a guy who just happens upon a group of women who chance to tie up near his mooring in a secluded cove. Lucky guy, indeed...
Art by Paula Russell


The Yacht


He'd moored up in the little cove he'd found last year and climbed over the
hill. He liked the cove but didn't come often as it was used by flotillas and
got noisy at night. Just then another yacht came round the headland, he
recognized the five girl crew from one he'd seen the night before in a bar when
they'd been making quite a night of it. The leader was a big "Jolly hockey
sticks" type wearing a red bikini which was really a size too small for her but
the others looked OK. The yacht came into the jetty though the sailing was
pretty ragged and there was a lot of shouting from the big one who appeared to
be the skipper, probably self appointed.


The boat tied up, a couple of the girls opened beers whilst the other two went
for a swim. He settled down behind the rocks and decided to watch. Voyeuristic
it may have been but the girls had lovely figures. He could hear them clearly
over the water shouting and splashing. They all seemed to be enjoying themselves
apart from the little blonde he'd been eyeing up the night before who was
sitting in the cockpit looking subdued.

Just as he was about to leave he heard the big one, he thought she was called
Sarah, shout, "Discipline time." Unable to believe his ears he sat down again
and got his binoculars out. The two girls who had been swimming came back on
board the water glistening on their tanned young bodies. They were both wearing
black backless swimsuits cut high on the leg. The tall redhead came up from the
saloon wearing a pair of tight denim shorts and a white shirt knotted under
breasts.

His favourite, he thought her name was Kate, was still sitting in the cockpit.
She was a petite little blonde with a page boy haircut. Her lovely slim body
curved deliciously in all the right places and was set off along with her tan by
the green bikini she was wearing. She was left in the corner as the other sat
opposite. Sarah then said "Kate you know you didn't warn us when you were going
to gybe, someone could have been hurt. That's why you're going to be punished.
Jane, Amanda take her forward." The two in swimsuits took Kate and led her to
the bow turning her round so that her back was towards him. Sarah and the
redhead approached, she was carrying a bundle of short ropes, which she dropped
on deck. "Get her ready" ordered Sarah and he watched, fascinated, as Jane and
Amanda stripped Kate of her bikini.

"Gill tie her hands," ordered Sarah. Kate held out her hands and the redhead
tied them together then taking the main halyard she fastened it to the ropes.
Sarah pulled the halyard until Kate's arms were stretched above her and her
belly was taut against the mast. At this Gill looped another rope round Kate's
waist and bound her to the mast. The girls each picked up a length of rope from
the deck. "Three each, Jane, Amanda, then me and Gill" announced Sarah.

The girls formed up in pairs on either side of the mast then Jane and Amanda
began to lash Kate with thin ropes about 18 inches long. He heard the faint
TWACK THWACK as the first two lashes landed, one from each side, across the
centre of Kate's golden behind. Her buttocks clenched as two thin white lines
appeared. Again the girls struck, almost as one, drawing a faint cry from Kate.
As Jane and Amanda prepared for their final stroke Jane nodded to Amanda who
struck first, the rope curling round to CRACK high on the side of Kate's thigh.
She cried out sharply and twisted away from the pain turning her other cheek out
from the mast. This was what Jane had been waiting for and she sharply hipped
her lash into the crown of the right cheek. Kate thrust her pelvis into the mast
trying to escape the lightening flash of pain, her head came back sharply and
she gave a short sharp cry.


Sarah and Gill then changed places with the other girls. They surveyed Kate's
bottom which now had four bright red stripes across it and two that were turning
red. Sarah struck first. He could hear the whistle of the rope before it
viciously lashed into the slight crease between Kate's buttocks and thighs. She
rose on her toes, despite her bonds, her head snapped back, but somehow she did
not cry out. Gill then landed her first stroke across the centre of Kate's rump
drawing a thin white line across it. Sarah then brought her arm back, the tip of
the rope almost catching her own behind, as once again she made it whistle
before cracking across the crease at the top of the victims thighs. Again Kate
went up on her toes drawing her bottom in and throwing her head back but making
no sound. "Steady on Sarah that's a bit much" called one of the girls.

Gill waited until Kate relaxed and placed her second stroke across the centre of
the twitching bottom. Sarah, who he could see was looking flushed and excited,
swung another vicious lash into the bright red marks of her previous blows. As
he heard the CRACK of the lash he saw Kate's buttocks jump with the force of the
blow. This time Kate gave a short sharp cry. "Sarah that's too much!" called
Jane. As Kate relaxed Gill delivered her final lash across the centre of Kate's
now glowing backside. It seemed to be given more for appearance sake than
effect.

The girls went below and he heard raised voices although he couldn't make out
what they were saying. Kate her head lowered was left for him to contemplate.
Her bottom now had two broad red lines across it, one across the centre where
the three girls had placed their lashes and another lower down where Sarah had
so cruelly whipped her. Some of the lines were developing a bluish tinge. After
a few minutes Gill and Amanda came on deck. Speaking to her softly they rubbed
cream into her bruised buttocks as they released her bonds.

A couple of days later he saw them in a bar, once again it was Sarah's voice
that was the loudest. "Thursday night, let's go back to that cove, you know
Kate's cove". On the off chance he'd returned their himself and sure enough
they'd sailed up that afternoon. This time there was something different.
Putting his binoculars to his eyes he'd seen only four girls on deck. The
redhead, Gill, was at the helm, obviously a far better sailor than Sarah, she
sailed smoothly up to the jetty and berthed. The four girls then came down to
the beach just below him. Amanda and Jane were wearing their black swimsuits
Gill a fetching brown bikini and Kate a pair of denim shorts over a blue swim
suit. As Kate took off her shorts he could see the bruises at the top of her
thighs where Sarah had lashed her. After about twenty minutes they'd come back
to the beach and with some effort they'd picked up the big table that someone
had left for barbecues and turned it so that it was end on to him. They then
laid a couple of towels on it before going back to the boat. Gill leant over the
cockpit and he heard her call in a very pointed voice "Discipline time". At that
he saw Kate hand two ropes to each of the girls. Sarah now appeared. She was a
very crestfallen girl compared to the one he'd seen and heard before. Dressed in
a T shirt and briefs she began to walk towards the mast before Gill called her
back saying "You're going ashore and take these." as she handed Sarah two
cushions.

The girls then escorted her up the jetty to the far end of the table. "Put the
cushions in the middle" commanded Gill. Sarah leant over and did so. "Right
strip her" Gills voice was cold. With that Amanda pulled Sarah's T-shirt off as
Jane yanked her briefs to the ground. Sarah was a magnificent sight. Her
voluptuous figure was lightly tanned even her full but still firm breasts the
tops of which were brushed by her long auburn hair. Her belly was rounded but
not fat with its lower slope covered with a light auburn bush. Just then Kate,
whose pubic mound barely covered by her swimsuit, he'd been admiring through his
binoculars, spoke up. "Why not let her enjoy the view."


"Why not?" agreed Gill pushing Sarah who walked round to the end of the table
nearest him. He couldn't believe his luck as he caught sight of the full cheeks
of her arse. "Up you go" called Kate sweetly and Sarah climbed onto the table
settling her broad hips over the cushions. Each of the girls took a length of
rope and soon she was spread-eagled with her ankles and wrists fastened to the
table legs. The pink lips of her sex were clearly visible to him.


Gill stepped forward. "Sarah you've been a complete bitch. OK the discipline
thing was a bit of fun to start with but what you did to Kate was unforgivable.
Not only that but you can't navigate either. So now you're going to get a taste
of your own medicine. Six lashes from each of us. OK girls?"

The others all nodded. "Jane to open, me second. Amanda third, and Kate to
finish," announced Gill. With that Jane picked up the thin rope, gently she
raised it before lashing it down across the centre of Sarah's haunches. Sarah
jerked, emitting a short "AH!" as a white stripe appeared across both cheeks.
Moving forward slightly she sent the second sizzling along the by now reddening
line. Another jerk and a louder AHH came from Sarah. Winding the rope round her
hand to shorten it Jane cracked to short sharp lashes down. one on the peak of
each cheek. Sarah writhed from side to side crying OH AH as two bright red
patches glowed on her rump. Unwinding the rope and stepping back Jane took her
time with her final two lashes whipping both of them across the centre of
Sarah's reddening arse. The big girl tugged at her bonds as each one landed but
apart from loud gasps made no sound.

Gill took the lash from Jane and walked round to the other side of the table,
calmly she raised the rope and with a flick of the wrist cracked the end of it
on the far side of Sarah's left cheek. This brought a frantic "Ouch" from Sarah
as she twisted in her bonds. The second was a full blooded lash squarely across
the now twitching rump. Sarah's head shot up and she gave a loud squeal. Moving
back slightly and again using a flicking action Gill buried the ropes end into
the cleft of Sarah's bum. It seemed to fly down the inside of her left cheek
before drawing the right one towards its tormentor. Sarah thrust her hips into
the cushions screaming. There was no sign of any sympathy from any of the girls.

Slowly Gill walked round to the other side of the table. She had obviously
planned what she was going to do. The forth lash was a vicious flick catching
the far side of Sarah's right hip to leave mark to match the first one she'd
placed on the left hip. Sarah writhed desperately but Gill waited until she
settled before flaying the next one across the centre of the broad rump. He
could see the indentation of the strike as a bright white line rapidly turning
red. Sarah anticipating Gills last stroke clenched her buttocks together and
moaning loudly drove her hips into the cushions. Gill just smiled and waited
until with a long slow moan Sarah seemed to surrender to her fate and relaxed.
At that point Gills final lash bit deeply into the valley of the buttocks.
Sarah's head came up, hair flying, and she gave a long banshee like wail.

Throwing the rope across the bound girl's back Gill stepped back as Amanad took
up her position opposite. A small dark haired girl she was deeply tanned. Even
without his binoculars he could see her nipples thrusting through the material
of her swimsuit. Her firm flat stomach and the high cut of the suit seemed to
emphasize the length and height of her pubic mound. Picking up the rope she ran
it through her fingers for a few moments as she studied the trembling target.
Raising the rope she lashed it onto the far side of Sarah's hip bringing a sharp
yelp from her as a white line blazed its way across the outer edge and side of
the hip. Her second and third lashes were placed full square on the clenched
buttocks, Sarah not even having time to recover from the second where she had
ground into the cushions before the third bit deeply into her soft flesh.

Taking her cue from Gill, Amanda walked to the other side of the table. This
time she took Sarah by surprise. Expecting the lash on the side of her hip Sarah
had tried to roll away as far as her bonds would permit. This raised her left
cheek. Jane took aim, the rope sighed then bit into the crown of the offered
cheek, as the point of impact flashed red Sarah writhed and wailed. The fifth
stroke was almost ordinary as it cracked down on the twitching rump. Sarah
guessing that the final one would go for her hip again tried to turn away. It
made no difference as Amanda stepped forward to ensure the strike. A white line
flashed across the outside of the hip drawing a long cry of pain from the
victim.

Kate then took the rope from Amanda and positioned herself halfway down the
table. She was facing him and looked beautiful. The low cut top of her swimsuit
gave him a good view of her firm young breasts before he followed the line of
the costume down to her pubic mound. Was it his imagination or could he see some
blonde pubic hair?

Running the rope through her fingers two or three times she chose her spot.
Drawing it back she rose on her toes before whipping it forward. They could all
hear the whistle as the rope swung. Sarah clenched her buttocks but to no avail.
The lash landed diagonally across both cheeks with the end cracking into the
crease between buttock and thigh. Sarah howled as Kate moved until she was level
with the now well-striped ample rear. The second she slashed right across both
cheeks. White blazed across the crimson as the punished hips thrust frantically
into the cushions. Kate waited then moved level with Sarah's knees turning away
from him as she did so. Rising on her toes to deliver her third stroke he could
see her swimsuit ride up showing the stripes she had received a few days
earlier. This time she whipped the lash diagonally up over the striped rump with
the end biting into the top of the cheek. Sarah screamed and writhed then burst
into tears. Her whole body shaking with sobs she wriggled in her bonds and as
her legs flexed he saw another pink flash through her pubic hair.

Kate moved to the other side of the table and as she rose to deliver her fourth
lash he could see more evidence of the cruel whipping Sarah had given her.
Bringing the rope back over her shoulder until it lay down her own back Kate let
fly. Again the strike was diagonal with the tip of the rope biting into the top
of Sarah's left cheek. The sobbing was broken by a loud wailing yell. Another
step and the fifth lash was placed straight across the sobbing girl's behind.
Kate moved again to the far end of the table facing him.


By now Sarah was sobbing uncontrollably, her large rump twitching and heaving as
she did so. As if preparing for a high dive Kate again rose on her toes, the
rope hanging down her back. It sang through the air but if Sarah heard it she
gave no sign. A CRACK like a pistol shot rang out and he saw the lash dig a deep
furrow in the soft flesh of the writhing bottom. The rope end burying itself
between cheek and thigh. Sarah's head shot up her body jerking against her bonds
and she howled before collapsing back over the cushions. Kate looked at her
sobbing victim for a few moments, then dropped the rope over the now blazing
cheeks of her arse.

The girls came forward and hugged Kate before going back to the boat leaving him
to watch a sobbing Sarah. The marks of her flogging now varied in colour from
bright red to a deep crimson with traces of blue beginning to appear. After what
seemed an eternity Sarah's sobbing decreased to a few sniffles and whimpers.
Gill and Amanda then appeared and began to rub cream into the fiery backside.
When they released her bonds Sarah climbed slowly and stiffly from the table.
"I'd get that into the water to cool it off" was all Gill said as she patted the
scarlet bum. Sarah just nodded and he watched as she walked into the sea her
fiery rump disappearing below the water.





Tuesday, January 20, 2015

Cara Bristol's "Reasonable Doubts"



Some women like to be spanked. Say what!?  I know, I know. It sounds crazy, right? Well, it's true, and as proof I offer a little essay by the esteemed spanking romance author, Cara Bristol, explaining to her sisters just how to get their lazy oaf of a husband/significant other out of the Barcalounger and into action. 

And to top things off she's written a pretty steamy book about the subject. 

But enough from me. I'll turn it over to Cara to tell you all about it.

How to say “spank me”
By Cara Bristol

To admit to a partner you want to be spanked can be an uncomfortable discussion. Underscoring the discomfort is fear that he or she will be turned off or react with horror. I’m a big proponent of open communication, but if you want to test the waters before you make the big confession, here are some things you can try:
·        
          When you’re out shopping and you see spanking implements or “pervertibles,” point them out.
·         Buy underwear that say “spank me.”
·         Discuss spanking in general. Mention that you find the concept sexy and explain why.
·         Admit you read spanking romances and/or spanking blogs. Read a passage to him.
·         Suggest you share a “wild” fantasy.
·         Suggest a role play game, such as naughty school girl.
         After a little tiff and after making up, suggest you might be deserving of a little spanking. 

Liz Davenport, the heroine of Reasonable Doubts, finds herself this situation—she needs to tell her new man she wants to be spanked. It’s a position she never thought she’d be in. She had married an experienced disciplinarian, but after many years of marriage, she was widowed. Liz hesitates to tell her new man what she really wants for fear of how he’ll react.

An excerpt from Reasonable Doubts

“Before we begin—before you begin—let me apologize for what I said out there.”
Liz licked her lips. Her mouth had dried. “You mean about spanking me?”
He nodded. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sor—”
“Don’t apologize until you hear what I have to say.” She twisted her hands. What if he thought she was a kinky freak? What if he hustled her out of his condo and his life? Liz took a breath. “I did think you were older than you are, but that wasn’t the real issue.”
“What is?”
“Discipline.”
“I don’t understand.”
“In my marriage, there was never any question who was in charge. Otis always consulted with me, but I deferred to his judgment. He led; I supported.”
Grant arched his eyebrows. “That sounds very traditional.”
Liz nodded. “Yes. I assumed when I got involved again, the man would be…traditional…like Otis.” She wasn’t being clear enough. “I figured I would meet someone through the Rod and Cane Society.”
Grant frowned. “Rod and Cane. The mansion we were at?”
Liz nodded.
“Is that some sort of fraternal organization?”
She nodded. “Otis was president. Jared, whom you met outside, has filled in until an election can be held. I’m vying for a seat on the governance board. It’s a bold move for a conservative—some would say old-fashioned—organization to admit a woman.” Stop stalling. Say it.
“What does the organization do? What’s its purpose?” In a game of Twenty Questions, Grant probably would need no more than a couple to guess the object.
Liz rubbed her hands together. “Rod and Cane supports and promotes domestic discipline. The male members spank their wives.”
Grant blinked. “You were spanked by your husband?”
“Yes.” Relief that came from truth settled over her.
“Wow.” He exhaled and studied the floor. Then his head shot up, and he sought her gaze. “You want me to spank you.”
“Yes.”
Grant got to his feet and shoved his hands in his pockets. He paced. “Well, this wasn’t what I expected you to say.” He glanced at her then tossed his head back and laughed. As if she were a joke. She’d bared herself to him, and he laughed at her?
What a jerk. And to think she’d considered him a nice guy. Liz grabbed her purse and sprang to her feet. He’d driven her, but she’d crawl back to Rod and Cane if she had to!

Reasonable Doubts Blurb

Widow Liz Davenport assumes when she begins to date, her new man will be like her late husband--a member of the Rod and Cane Society and an experienced disciplinarian who can provide her with loving guidance she requires to feel grounded and secure. So why is she attracted to Grant Davis, an ex-Naval  JAG officer who works for her nemesis and has never spanked a woman in his life?
Events in his recent past have forced Grant to take stock of his life and try some new things. But spank a woman? He’s never considered that before, but with Liz’s coaching he’s willing to try.
But when the past collides with the present, will he be able to step up and become the disciplinarian Liz needs?

[Luckily we men are easily trainable, so I think Grant will be ok. But to find out, you'll have to buy the book.]

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Find Cara

Prizes, Prizes!
How would you like to become card-carrying member of the Rod and Cane Society? To receive a membership card, leave a comment for Cara about Reasonable Doubts or this blog AND your email address in the body of your comment. Cara will contact you to arrange to send you a membership card. This is not a drawing. Everyone who posts a comment with an email address can receive a card—as long as supplies last. In addition, by commenting on this blog and leaving an email address, you’ll be entered into a drawing for Rod and Cane coffee mug.