Thursday, February 15, 2007
Spanko Meeting Spanko, Chapter Three
We now resume our tale of an evening of spankings with another couple that I had just met. Belinda, or Billie, was a co-worker and friend of my wonder wife, and Ben was her husband. In the last installment, we began to play a contest of euchre, and were wagering a spanking on each game.
We rotated teams for the next game, with Angela partnering with Ben and Billie with me. This allowed basically the same arrangement as the last game, with spouse spanking spouse. Angela’s string of loners continued, and Billie and I found ourselves on the receiving end of the paddle. We both chose the larger paddle. Ben delivered another significant swat to Billie’s behind, and Angela took her revenge with a fine whack to my derriere.
Things then got a little more complicated. The next team rotation was to play with one’s spouse. That meant that we would no longer be spanking someone familiar. I started getting pretty nervous thinking about the consequences of spanking Billie or Ben. Should Angela and I be victorious, I didn’t want to hit too hard for fear of spoiling the night and hurting a guest. Yet, being a long-time spanko, and proud of it, if I hit too softly, I didn’t want to be thought of as a poser.
I had decided that perhaps it might be best if Angela and I were to lose. I felt safer allowing our guests to paddle us. But then Billie threw down the gauntlet. “How do you like your swats?” she asked me.
“I beg your pardon?” I responded, raising my eyebrows.
“Ben and I never lose in euchre,” she responded. “When we win, how do you want your swats? Good and hard, or do you prefer little pitty-pats?”
For those of you who follow this blog, you probably know that there are two things on which I most pride myself. One is my euchre-playing acumen, especially when teamed with my darling spouse. The other is my ability to take a swat. When it comes to whacking my butt, I’ve always preferred the harder the better. And this woman, this stranger, this guest in my house, had challenged both. There would be no throwing this game. And when Ben added, “I’m sure Angela’s butt is pretty strong, but we’d better take it easy on Frank!” the game was afoot.
Since this is primarily a spanking blog and not a card player’s blog, I shall spare you the boring details of the game. Suffice to say, Angela and I were equal to the challenge. Billie insisted on being paddled by your’s truly, which, considering her friendly insult, I was perfectly agreeable with. She again opted for the large paddle. I bent her over the table, hitched up her pants, took up the paddle, and gave her one of my finest. She jumped up and grabbed her sizzling seat, but she was smiling, and she saluted me on the quality of my delivery.
After Ben took her swat from Angela, we opted for a rematch with the same teams. We also doubled the stakes, so each person on the winning team would get to swat both members of the losing. And, proving our championship euchre caliber, Angela and I were again winners, and Ben and Billie were again rewarded with sore backsides. At this point, Billie excused herself to find the rest room, and Angela offered to refresh our beverages. Ben and I made small talk for a bit, discussing whether his accounting firm or my IT firm had more incompetent management.
When the ladies returned, Billie insisted on showing us the effects of my paddling on her butt. She lowered her jeans, displaying a fine bottom in a cute shade of pink. Not to be outdone, Angela also gave us a view of her tushie, although she had not taken as many swats as Billie.
We rotated teams, going back to boys-versus-girls. This time the girls won, and Ben and I received our swats from the ladies. By mutual agreement, we increased the swats to two each and switched partners again. We played a couple more games in this fashion, with the swats evenly distributed, and then took another break. Once again, the ladies found it necessary to model their warm fannies for us gentlemen. This time we were allowed to feel how effective our paddlings were on them.
After the display of pink bottoms, Angela brought warm brownies with french vanilla ice cream for all to enjoy. We all agreed that Angela makes the best brownies in the world, real or imaginary. Although the hour was growing late, at least for people who were pushing forty (at the time), we decided to continue playing at least a couple of more games. Also, since the brownies were clearly affecting our brains, we mutually decided that, henceforth and for the remainder of the night, spankings for the losers would be on the bare bottom.
The next chapter will detail the afore-mentioned bare bottom spankings, and reveal just how slowly our brains were working.
We rotated teams for the next game, with Angela partnering with Ben and Billie with me. This allowed basically the same arrangement as the last game, with spouse spanking spouse. Angela’s string of loners continued, and Billie and I found ourselves on the receiving end of the paddle. We both chose the larger paddle. Ben delivered another significant swat to Billie’s behind, and Angela took her revenge with a fine whack to my derriere.
Things then got a little more complicated. The next team rotation was to play with one’s spouse. That meant that we would no longer be spanking someone familiar. I started getting pretty nervous thinking about the consequences of spanking Billie or Ben. Should Angela and I be victorious, I didn’t want to hit too hard for fear of spoiling the night and hurting a guest. Yet, being a long-time spanko, and proud of it, if I hit too softly, I didn’t want to be thought of as a poser.
I had decided that perhaps it might be best if Angela and I were to lose. I felt safer allowing our guests to paddle us. But then Billie threw down the gauntlet. “How do you like your swats?” she asked me.
“I beg your pardon?” I responded, raising my eyebrows.
“Ben and I never lose in euchre,” she responded. “When we win, how do you want your swats? Good and hard, or do you prefer little pitty-pats?”
For those of you who follow this blog, you probably know that there are two things on which I most pride myself. One is my euchre-playing acumen, especially when teamed with my darling spouse. The other is my ability to take a swat. When it comes to whacking my butt, I’ve always preferred the harder the better. And this woman, this stranger, this guest in my house, had challenged both. There would be no throwing this game. And when Ben added, “I’m sure Angela’s butt is pretty strong, but we’d better take it easy on Frank!” the game was afoot.
Since this is primarily a spanking blog and not a card player’s blog, I shall spare you the boring details of the game. Suffice to say, Angela and I were equal to the challenge. Billie insisted on being paddled by your’s truly, which, considering her friendly insult, I was perfectly agreeable with. She again opted for the large paddle. I bent her over the table, hitched up her pants, took up the paddle, and gave her one of my finest. She jumped up and grabbed her sizzling seat, but she was smiling, and she saluted me on the quality of my delivery.
After Ben took her swat from Angela, we opted for a rematch with the same teams. We also doubled the stakes, so each person on the winning team would get to swat both members of the losing. And, proving our championship euchre caliber, Angela and I were again winners, and Ben and Billie were again rewarded with sore backsides. At this point, Billie excused herself to find the rest room, and Angela offered to refresh our beverages. Ben and I made small talk for a bit, discussing whether his accounting firm or my IT firm had more incompetent management.
When the ladies returned, Billie insisted on showing us the effects of my paddling on her butt. She lowered her jeans, displaying a fine bottom in a cute shade of pink. Not to be outdone, Angela also gave us a view of her tushie, although she had not taken as many swats as Billie.
We rotated teams, going back to boys-versus-girls. This time the girls won, and Ben and I received our swats from the ladies. By mutual agreement, we increased the swats to two each and switched partners again. We played a couple more games in this fashion, with the swats evenly distributed, and then took another break. Once again, the ladies found it necessary to model their warm fannies for us gentlemen. This time we were allowed to feel how effective our paddlings were on them.
After the display of pink bottoms, Angela brought warm brownies with french vanilla ice cream for all to enjoy. We all agreed that Angela makes the best brownies in the world, real or imaginary. Although the hour was growing late, at least for people who were pushing forty (at the time), we decided to continue playing at least a couple of more games. Also, since the brownies were clearly affecting our brains, we mutually decided that, henceforth and for the remainder of the night, spankings for the losers would be on the bare bottom.
The next chapter will detail the afore-mentioned bare bottom spankings, and reveal just how slowly our brains were working.
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Such fun! I can only hope Cindy and I find a like-minded couple in the future. Although she doesn't really play cards, and I tend to stop paying too much attention after a few drinks. Ooops! Could become one sided if I'm not careful!
Can't wait for the next installment.
Dave
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Can't wait for the next installment.
Dave
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