Wednesday, February 06, 2008
The Other Outcome
Much has gone one since we last talked about Fantastic Spankings. A new year arrived. Winter has come. Winter has gone. Winter has come back again. The NFL playoffs began. The NFL playoffs ended. And, I am quite sure, many of you have spanked or been spankee, or, if you are lucky, both.
When we last met, I was due to pay off on a bet that I made with my wife’s best friend, Bernie, regarding the outcome of my daughter, Maribel, and her university basketball team versus the team from the Big State University.
For those of you who may not recall, and you know who you are, Bernie had bet me a spanking that my daughter’s team would lose. Sadly, she was correct. Her team lost by one point. That meant that I was to get twenty-five whacks. Said whacks, in a word, painful.
Firstly, a word of explanation is in order. Bernie is not a spanko. She is a police detective. And she is very strong.
My wife chose herself to be arbitrator of the spanking, supposedly to make sure that the bet was paid off fairly, and to make sure that nobody was overly abused. Unfortunately for me, her definition of abuse is much less strict than mine. She’s probably trying to give me an excuse to spank her. But I’ll deal with that later.
We rendezvoused at the guest on Sunday afternoon. I was expecting your basic drop-your-pants- and-bend-over spanking with a paddle. Angela and Bernie, on the other hand, had other ideas. I should know better than to put my butt in the hands of two women who have known each other for almost thirty years. Angela decided that, to start with, and despite my protestations, I should be naked. Then Angela suggested that, rather than a nice wooden paddle, that Bernie should wield one of our leather straps. The big, heavy strap. The one that hurts like a bitch. Angela proclaimed that leather would be safer because, “Bernie is so strong she could easily break a wooden paddle” across my butt.
I was draped over the back of my nice overstuffed recliner. Angela gave Bernie a brief primer on how most effectively swing the strap. Bernie took a couple of practice swings against a sofa cushion, and then Angela deemed her ready.
Bernie carefully took aim at my waiting bottom, brought her strong right arm back, and delivered a swat that took my breath away.
“Harder,” said Angela.
I tried to protest that the first swat had been plenty hard, but I hadn’t yet recovered my breathing enough to speak. Bernie delivered another swat, this one making me emit a small groan.
“Harder,” responded Angela again. The next swat elicited a louder groan from yours truly.
“That’s better,” said Angela. “Now give him twenty-five just like that.”
I began to protest that I had already received three swats, leaving just twenty-two remaining, when Bernie began thrashing me in earnest. My, goodness, that woman could swing a strap! The pain was such that I was gripping the arms of the chair so tightly that I thought that I would tear through the fabric. I do not believe that I have ever felt such a sizzle on my poor, defenseless rear end.
After ten swats, Bernie paused to admire her work. “Am I doing it right?” she asked Angela.
I answered for her. “Yes,” I said, still somewhat breathless, “I’d say you were doing very well if it wasn’t my butt that you were doing it on!”
Angela agreed. “You have fifteen more, then, she told Bernie.
“Excuse me,” I said. “I’ve taken thirteen, not ten, haven’t I?”
“The first three were just practice,” Angela responded. “They don’t count.” When I protested, she said, “I’m the referee here. I decide what counts and what doesn’t. Now shut up and take fifteen or I’ll let Bernie spank you some more!”
Bernie resumed the assault on my butt. I took my punishment like a man. Meaning that I bitched and complained the entire time. For someone who is not a spanko, Bernie wields a mean strap. She managed to make my butt burn hotter with each stroke, and I am one who prides himself on his ability to take a swat.
However, I managed to take the final fifteen, plus two more because Angela determined that my butt was not quite evenly covered. Afterwards, they made me remain draped over the chair whilst they inspected the damage that Bernie had inflicted on my poor derriere. They groped my tush and commented on how hot and swollen it was for what seemed like hours as I helplessly lay there with my punished ass in the air.
At last I was allowed to rise, dress, and acknowledge Bernie’s considerable basketball acumen, even though she was only right by one point, and had the referee called a foul on the last play of the game, Maribel’s team would have won and it would have been Bernie draped over the chair, although I’m sure that Angela would have made sure that I went much easier on Bernie than she went on me. But, considering that I am a true blue spanko, and that it was such a great game, I will admit that the spanking was worth it.
And so, should the imaginary internet gods allow it, I am back, to once again share my thoughts on all things spanking with the rest of the world, or at least the twelve people who regularly peruse this little corner of the internet. Let us all hope that the rest of 2008 turns out to be fantastic, and that it brings all of you fantastic spankings.
When we last met, I was due to pay off on a bet that I made with my wife’s best friend, Bernie, regarding the outcome of my daughter, Maribel, and her university basketball team versus the team from the Big State University.
For those of you who may not recall, and you know who you are, Bernie had bet me a spanking that my daughter’s team would lose. Sadly, she was correct. Her team lost by one point. That meant that I was to get twenty-five whacks. Said whacks, in a word, painful.
Firstly, a word of explanation is in order. Bernie is not a spanko. She is a police detective. And she is very strong.
My wife chose herself to be arbitrator of the spanking, supposedly to make sure that the bet was paid off fairly, and to make sure that nobody was overly abused. Unfortunately for me, her definition of abuse is much less strict than mine. She’s probably trying to give me an excuse to spank her. But I’ll deal with that later.
We rendezvoused at the guest on Sunday afternoon. I was expecting your basic drop-your-pants- and-bend-over spanking with a paddle. Angela and Bernie, on the other hand, had other ideas. I should know better than to put my butt in the hands of two women who have known each other for almost thirty years. Angela decided that, to start with, and despite my protestations, I should be naked. Then Angela suggested that, rather than a nice wooden paddle, that Bernie should wield one of our leather straps. The big, heavy strap. The one that hurts like a bitch. Angela proclaimed that leather would be safer because, “Bernie is so strong she could easily break a wooden paddle” across my butt.
I was draped over the back of my nice overstuffed recliner. Angela gave Bernie a brief primer on how most effectively swing the strap. Bernie took a couple of practice swings against a sofa cushion, and then Angela deemed her ready.
Bernie carefully took aim at my waiting bottom, brought her strong right arm back, and delivered a swat that took my breath away.“Harder,” said Angela.
I tried to protest that the first swat had been plenty hard, but I hadn’t yet recovered my breathing enough to speak. Bernie delivered another swat, this one making me emit a small groan.
“Harder,” responded Angela again. The next swat elicited a louder groan from yours truly.
“That’s better,” said Angela. “Now give him twenty-five just like that.”
I began to protest that I had already received three swats, leaving just twenty-two remaining, when Bernie began thrashing me in earnest. My, goodness, that woman could swing a strap! The pain was such that I was gripping the arms of the chair so tightly that I thought that I would tear through the fabric. I do not believe that I have ever felt such a sizzle on my poor, defenseless rear end.
After ten swats, Bernie paused to admire her work. “Am I doing it right?” she asked Angela.
I answered for her. “Yes,” I said, still somewhat breathless, “I’d say you were doing very well if it wasn’t my butt that you were doing it on!”
Angela agreed. “You have fifteen more, then, she told Bernie.
“Excuse me,” I said. “I’ve taken thirteen, not ten, haven’t I?”
“The first three were just practice,” Angela responded. “They don’t count.” When I protested, she said, “I’m the referee here. I decide what counts and what doesn’t. Now shut up and take fifteen or I’ll let Bernie spank you some more!”
Bernie resumed the assault on my butt. I took my punishment like a man. Meaning that I bitched and complained the entire time. For someone who is not a spanko, Bernie wields a mean strap. She managed to make my butt burn hotter with each stroke, and I am one who prides himself on his ability to take a swat.
However, I managed to take the final fifteen, plus two more because Angela determined that my butt was not quite evenly covered. Afterwards, they made me remain draped over the chair whilst they inspected the damage that Bernie had inflicted on my poor derriere. They groped my tush and commented on how hot and swollen it was for what seemed like hours as I helplessly lay there with my punished ass in the air.
At last I was allowed to rise, dress, and acknowledge Bernie’s considerable basketball acumen, even though she was only right by one point, and had the referee called a foul on the last play of the game, Maribel’s team would have won and it would have been Bernie draped over the chair, although I’m sure that Angela would have made sure that I went much easier on Bernie than she went on me. But, considering that I am a true blue spanko, and that it was such a great game, I will admit that the spanking was worth it.
And so, should the imaginary internet gods allow it, I am back, to once again share my thoughts on all things spanking with the rest of the world, or at least the twelve people who regularly peruse this little corner of the internet. Let us all hope that the rest of 2008 turns out to be fantastic, and that it brings all of you fantastic spankings.
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Is it strange that (had this actually happened) I envy you the experience?
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: February 07, 2008 2:13 PM
: February 07, 2008 2:13 PM << Home
