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Foray
(seventy-five goddamn cents for all that paper
and I am going to use one square inch of it. oh, well... sheesh, look
at the implants on that bimbo...wow...oh, that's her face!... hadn't noticed
that corner, ok, here it goes...) The coins clanged down into the guts of
the newspaper stand. It was almost impossible not to look around to see if
someone was watching him. (act as if you did this every day and no one will
notice... yeah, sure... ok, one sharp pull or this damned contraption will
forget you paid... there... the "Sensual Times"... ok, back to the car). Once
inside the car he looked all around to see if anyone had noticed or was still
watching (apparently all clear but keep checking). He turned to the back
pages and started his search. Personals... Personals... B&D...Spanking...
ok, let's see BAD BOYS in need of... (you kidding?) CRUEL MASTER seeks
slave... (I thought this was spanking...) DESIGNER SPANKINGS, discrete, no
sex 345-6789 (hm, one, maybe...) MISTRESS AMELIA will accept... (nah!...)
SPANKING by discrete, experienced female 123-4567 (more like it...two,
maybe...) SPANKING DUNGEON private, comfy 234-5678 (maybe three, that's
all?... ok, eenie, minnie, miny...) His stomach was tight as he leaned
against the deepest corner of the phone booth. (booth? no doors, drafty,
cold...) The coins clanged again. He was surprised he dialed correctly the
first time. (maybe I am getting good at this) His throat clutched as the
soft voice greeted him with a slow and completely neutral: "Hello" He
swallowed hard and barely managed to utter: "Hello, I... I would like to
have a spanking" (I am not getting good at this) The soft voice said:
"You would like to what?" and paused. His heart sped up and his throat
tightened. Fighting to overcome his nerves he tried again: "Uh, I read your
ad in the Sensual Times for spanking. I would like to have a spanking" He
breathed easier. The soft voice said, slowly: "Today?" The word "today"
managed to come out of his mouth. The soft voice said: "When?" His
throat kept tightening but he managed: "As soon as possible" The soft
voice said: "I have time later this evening, say about 7:30" He relaxed,
that was less than an hour away, but where? He said: "Where are you
located?" The soft voice said: "Near Eland Mall, how long will it take
you to get here?" He said: "About half an hour" The soft voice
said: "There is a gas station at the corner of Third and Main, why don't
you call me again when you get there? He said: "How much do you charge
for one hour?". The voice was firmer as it said: "90 dollars for 45
minutes" His ears were buzzing: "I will call you again in half an hour,
bye" The soft voice said: "Bye" He drove toward Eland Mall barely
noticing the traffic around him. His mind raced through his plans and excuses.
The overtime request had covered his evening. The cancellation of the request
was exhilarating. He hadn't had a good spanking in at least five months.
His last commercial spanking was close to a disaster. Her voice had sounded
inviting enough. Or was that wishful thinking? Was this a set up at the gas
station? That part of town was usually open and well lit. Last trip to Eland
Mall was 3 years ago. Was it still the same? Is this safe? He noticed a
street sign: Fifth Street. He was not aware of having crossed Third. Maybe
better, he told himself, went around the block and parked, walked to the gas
station, phoned. The soft voice said: "Hello" He said: "Hello,
I phoned you about half an hour ago about a spanking, I am phoning from the gas
station at Third and Main". The soft voice said: "My, you really must
want a spanking" He said: "Yes" (I said that didn't I?) The soft
voice said: "What is your name?" He swallowed and managed a:
"Richard" The soft voice said: "ok, Richard, I live at ...( and
gave an address nearby ) have you brought your own toys?" He said:
"Yes" She said: "Come on up then, I'm on the second floor" He
tightened up again as he climbed the stairway (well lit but you never know
what's around the next landing). He knocked at the apartment door. A
friendly face on a well dressed body greeted him with: "Come in, please,
Richard, it's cold outside" She closed the door and said: "My name is
Marie" It was a small two bedroom apartment with one of the bedrooms
reserved for spankings. She entered the room first and said: "I hope it's
warm enough, is this ok?" There was a matress on the floor, two chairs,
some very light paddles and very heavy tapestries as decoration on the walls,
and a narrow full length mirror. He said: "It's fine, should I pay you
now?" She said: "You can place your donation on that tray, Richard, then
undress or whatever you want to do, I will be right back." She returned
five minutes later more scantily clad but still quite dressed, a filmy cover
over dark colored shorts and blouse, high heels, the feeling that she was going
to be doing strenuous exercise but was going to be dressed elegantly for
it. She counted the money and pocketed it. Her fingernails were very well
done. Long, pointed, very red (how the hell is she going to get a good grip on
a paddle with those?). He said: "One hour?" She said:
"Approximately" Sitting down on one of the chairs she said: "Over
my lap?" He said: "No, I want to lie down on the mattress" He had
stripped naked but she showed absolutely no reaction to his nakedness. He put a
towel on the mattress and eased himself on to it face down. She knelt by his
side and looked at the collection of toys he had placed on the other chair. He
said: "I want you on top so that you can hit both cheeks very evenly"
With a slight hesitation she said: "Which toy first?" He said: "The
one that looks like a hairbrush" She grabbed it and climbed over him so
that her feet were by his shoulders. (on high heels, bent over like that?) He
said: "You will get tired that way, why don't you kneel on the mattress? I
am not going to bother you, ok?" She said: "ok" the sharp tone was
clear: "Better watch your step, buster" (or what? what keeps you safe
if you get a nut case? risky business). She was almost sitting down on his
shoulders as she tried a few light taps with the hairbrush on his cheeks. He
immediately said: "You can go a lot harder" She immediately did. After
a few strokes, he said: "Not quite that hard" After a few more strokes:
"A little harder" She did not move. "Please" She resumed the
spanking. Something was not right in the feel of that hairbrush, was it the
sting of a cold paddle? the temperature of the room? her presence? his nerves?.
He said: "Let me up for a minute" He stood up and took the brush from
her hand. She let it go with a cautious: "Is something wrong?" "Nothing
that you are doing, the brush must be cold or I need to warm up a little."
He went to the mirror and began spanking himself as he was accustomed to doing
at home. With a miffed expression she said: "Let me do it." He said:
"No... I will do this for a couple of minutes then you can go much
harder." She watched him increase the strength of his swats with an
impatient expression on her face. After several rounds, the color on his cheeks
started to rise and he felt more relaxed. He lowered himself on to the mattress
again and she knelt over his shoulders again. Her thighs gave him a little
squeeze on the arms as she got into position. The soft voice said: "Perhaps
you were a little nervous... maybe the paddle was cold from being in the
car." He grunted agreement as the paddle distributed even coats of sting on
his buns. "You can go harder now." The soft voice said: "And the
magic word is?" "Please" he said as she said, still softly: "
AndWHACK... don'tWHACK... youWHACK... forWHACK... getWHACK... itWHACK..."
Good, hard swats, the last two yielded little sounds from his throat. He
laughed, she laughed also. "ok, go harder, please." She obliged and
spanked his buns with a hard, even touch. But the sequence was weird, now here,
now there, without a pattern, repeating strokes. (is she doing this on
purpose? why do I have to tell her exactly what to do?...) He said:
"Please don't jump around all over the place. can't you do it like I was
doing it?" She said: "don't you like repeats?" (why? that seemed like a
weird question) "No, I don't like repeats. I would like to have a very even
spanking going around and around like I was doing in front of the mirror."
With a non-commital "Oh, ok" she started again. He felt a lot more
relaxed now that she was doing it the way he wanted it. This was the beginning
of what he had envisioned. He glanced at the little clock on the shelf. Almost
half of the time was gone. (oh, well, at least it is going in the right
direction now, maybe I'll go half an hour extra) After several more rounds
she speeded up and spanked harder until his legs started to twitch. (now we
are cooking, finally). After resting for twenty or thirty seconds she started
again, a little softer at first, then ramping up fast until she was spanking
hard enough to make him squirm. And she kept him squirming for what seemed
like ages. (aaahhhh!, how deliciously desperating...keep going, keep going,
I am not complaining, keep going...) He thought she stopped to let him rest
and was engrossed in the feeling of the sting, nerve endings ablaze. Then
he felt the tips of her nails connecting to the very top of his cheeks (is
she going to dig in?) The nails began to move, barely scratching, almost
caressing the surface of his glowing buns. (Aahhh! holy sh...) His head
arched until he thought his neck would snap. A wave of warm, overwhelming
tingling swept up his spine, crawled up the back and sides of his skull and
washed onto his brain. His entire body twitched, his throat tightened, he moved
from side to side and arched again. It was almost like he was trying to get
away from it but he knew better (Don't stop, oh please don't stop,
aahhhh...) And he arched again. He was aware of how light a touch she was
using, just the tips of her fingernails riding the tops of his hair pores. A
small part of him wanted to know why, the rest of him wanted more. (how is
this possible?... I thought I was melting into the mattress...don't stop,
please, don't... there it goes again, aaahhh...) She kept up the fingernail
raking until the intensity of his reaction subsided. When she stopped he
let his head flop down on the matress. He was panting. The soft voice said:
"You didn't know that, did you?" He said: "No, I sure didn't. thank
you for doing that. Really thank you." She said: "It was a
pleasure." After a short rest, she said: "Shall I spank you again?"
He said: "Wait a few more seconds, then try again, please" She did,
starting slowly and softly and building up again, but it was not the same. It
was difficult to get back to the feeling he had before the fingernail rake.
After several rounds he said: "Maybe not quite so hard, please" She
said: "Your time is almost up, you know" He said: "Oh, well, I
wanted more spanking but after that fingernail thing it's not the same."
She said: "Yes, it is like that" and gave him another little hug with
her legs on his upper arms as she stood up. He sat up on the mattress, eyes
level with her belly. With a soft sweep of her arm she pulled sideways at the
crotch of her skimpy shorts barely showing the side of her pussy while her
tongue swept her lips lightly. His eyes darted from her pussy to her mouth, to
her eyes. In a blink his eyes had said: "I didn't come here for sex, there
isn't enough chemistry between us and I don't want to catch any diseases"
In the same blink her eyes had understood. With a very slight, dissapointed
shrug (that little shrug is sure flattering, probably just being polite,
though... fast lady) she went on to the next item to sell before the time was
up. The soft voice said: "I have a friend that makes leather whips, would
you like to see them?" He said: "I am not into whips, just paddles...
but, sure, let me see what you got" He was feeling thankful for the
fingernails and leaving immediately just didn't seem right. She brought out
some very well crafted whips and he admired them. He said: "Well made, but
they don't have the feel of a paddle" She said: "Let me show you...
just a little" with enough firmness that he didn't feel like disagreeing.
She stepped back about two steps and started to spin the whip. The handle in
her hands was moving slightly but forcefully while all nine "tails" swung in a
circular blur and whistled ominously. She said: "Stand up and turn
around" He obeyed. She walked toward him slowly until the tips of the whip
started to graze his buns. A shower of little bursts of sting, almost like
pinpricks, bathed his red buns (hey... that feels better than I thought it
would... wow). She stopped. He said: "Remarkable, much better than I
expected, but I still prefer a good wood paddle or hairbrush." She said:
"Try this also, please hold still." He held his position in
expectation. She gave him three well laid strokes across both cheeks. The first
two were softer (that's all this thing can do?) but the last one wrapped around
his right cheek and dug in. He said: "No trouble feeling that last one"
They both laughed. He started to move toward his clothes which were draped on
the second chair (ok, pretty good time this time, but not worth an extra half
hour). She said: "Don't you want to spank me at all?" (she is asking me
to spank her?) He said: "I hadn't thought of it, my mind was still in that
fingernail thing you did." She said: "Come on, at least take a couple
of whacks at it" as she put both hands and both knees on the seat of the
first chair, her butt sticking out, her head turned with a smile. He was as
flattered as he was surprised. (what a small tail! hardly enough to spank,
cute... but I like two nice pillows to bump against, still, the lady asks, the
lady gets...) He raised his arm and his hand swept an arc that landed near the
bottom of those tiny buns with an upward sweep. A fabric muffled whack greeted
his ears and made her almost lose her balance. She stuck her bottom further out
so the next swat would not tip her forward quite as much. He put his hand on
her waist to steady her also and landed two more medium soft swats. She said:
"Oh, come on, you can do better than that..." Both enjoyed the next
four or five firm swats. (and all this on overtime... what a nice way of saying
"come and see me again, sometime"...you play all the angles don't you?). He
helped her down from the chair seat and held her arm while she steadied herself
on her high heels. Then he thanked her for a good time and started to dress
and pack up his toys . In a few minutes he was at the front door feeling quite
warm from the experience and tried to hug her lightly good-bye. Her initial
reaction to his proximity was to recoil. Suspicion of what? or fear of what?.
But she checked the reaction and allowed the hug. (getting your buns slapped is
one thing, getting your face that close to a customer is another... slowly I
learn). He was a lot more worried about the stairs now than before but
nothing happened. He got back to his car safely and drove home. He braced
himself for a bad reception as he entered his house. The house was empty. A
note on the kitchen table said: "PTA meeting tonight. Sorry I forgot to
tell you. Some food in the fridge. Back soon, I hope. Kids went to Grandma's.
Love." He got some fresh underwear, his bathrobe and pajamas and felt
relieved as he closed the bathroom door. (so far, so good). The mirror showed a
reasonably pink set of buns (it wasn't that much of a spanking and I sat on it
for almost an hour in the car... I can get three times redder than this on my
own without paying ninety dollars and taking a big risk... still, the
fingernail thing was mind blowing... it's going to be a long time before I try
this again... how do I get Irene to do the fingernail bit?... how do I get her
to spank me in the first place?) He got into the shower and was almost done
when he heard the front door open. (damn, no chance to be in bed now... ok,
time to keep your temper or this marriage is history). Irene opened the
bathroom door with: "Hi, how was work?" "Fine, how was PTA?" He was
hoping it would end there but she opened the shower door and saw his cheeks.
"Aaagh! Damn you! You've done it again! Why do you hurt yourself like this?
What's wrong with you?" and slammed the shower door, and then the bathroom
door on her way out. (breathe deep, try to relax, it'll blow over in a couple
of days). He smelled her cigarette. (good, maybe it'll calm her down a little).
She opened the bathroom door again and said: "The overtime thing was a lie
wasn't it?" He said: "No, it wasn't. They called it off one hour after
they asked for it because the prototype boards didn't come in as promised."
She said: "I don't believe you. You told me a lie so you could go and
cavort with some whore and get yourself beat up like this" He said slowly:
"I did not lie to you. I had a fun spanking with absolutely no sex involved. I
am not beat up. It was fun. It would have been a lot better with you but it
just wasn't happening here." She said: "First, I think something is
very wrong with this. Second, you never asked." He said: "For the last
several weeks I have been dropping hints and clues at every opportunity. There
was no response from you. You don't believe me when I tell you that this is fun
for me, so you do not respond at all." She said: "Don't you see how you
are hurting your body instead of coping with some memory of your youth that is
causing you trouble? Don't you see how abnormal this is?" He said:
"First, I told you it was fun but you do not believe me. You think all
spankings are supposed to be painful punishments. Believe me, they are not.
(that's for sure, especially after that fingernail rake). Second, the word
abnormal is a fuzzy, illogical catch-all. We have been taught as children:
"this is normal, this is not normal" the missionary position is normal, oral
sex is not normal, anal sex is abominable, etc. Do you remember "sixty-nine" a
week ago?... (silence, damn right) The logical definition of "normal" is that
which occurs most often in a given population. Look, in a forest... you may
have many groups of trees that have the same height, different heights, but
each group of exactly the same height. The largest such group is normal, that
height is the norm. But every human being is different, everyone comes to the
present by their own, unique, chaotic path. There is no "normal", especially
when it comes to adult play. Are you willing to allow adult play that is not
just making love in bed, in the missionary position?" (I hope that didn't push
too hard...) She said: "You know damn well what I mean by normal.
People just don't do this sort of thing. Think of the kids, think of our
reputation, think of the community, think... would you, Tom?" He said:
"No, I don't know what you mean by normal except that you want me to change
that part of my personality. But it is very close to the core of my
personality. There is no such thing as a "normal" human being, it is truly
impossible. Think about it, every experience is different because it is
interpreted in the light of each person's own, personal, previous experience.
No two people are alike. I was interested in spanking and experimented quite a
bit with it before I met you. It can be a very erotic experience that has to be
felt from the inside to be understood, then there is no problem understanding
it. You have no right to ask me to change a part of my inner person. I am not
hurting anybody, not even myself. When I spank myself, I am always just below
the pain threshhold. Sting on my buns, and nowhere else, is enjoyable to me.
Redness and swelling of my buns, and nowhere else, is enjoyable to me. It can
be very enjoyable alone and much more so with someone who understands and
cares. Professional spankings are a dim shadow of what a good spanking can be.
The children?... I won't tell them if you won't. The community... can fly in
ever diminishing circles until they dissapear up the community asshole. The
people that make up the community... many of them actually play adult games, or
you wouldn't have so many ads for all sorts of adult games and places where you
can go and pay to play them. And if we could play this way at home we may find
each other very, very much happier. I hope you understand. We could be so much
happier." (better leave it there, I hope I didn't say anything wrong) She
said: "You... are... impossible. Better take another shower and maybe
you'll feel better in the morning. And don't expect me in the sack for many
days. I will sleep on the couch, thank you." And closed the door firmly
behind her. (well, at least she didn't slam it, there is some hope there...)
The words of an old song came to mind:
"hang it up, see what tomorrow
brings sometimes the light's all shining on me other times I can hardly
see lately it appears to me what a strange, long trip it's been"
Two days later, at breakfast, she said: "The next time you want your buns
warmed up, just drop some hints and I'll do my best to pick them up, ok?"
and gave him a peck on the cheek as she picked up her coat and purse and
hurried toward her car. (ok,... sounds good to me...)
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