(from the Paddles Message Board)

this story and comments occurred shortly before the legendary spanking
and caning of Lady Amanda by the knight Sir James

************************ 05/09 18:05
Greetings and Salutations from the Council of Ten! - Don Rojo

(Don Rojo addresses the illustrious assembled members)

News of the punishment of the fair Lady Amanda by the knight Sir James
has spread far and wide, m'Lords. Your couriers reached the Southern
Lands a short time ago. The Council of Ten promptly dispatched me here
as envoy to the august members of this Rectangular Table, to observe and
report the event. After long and arduous journey, it is my pleasure to
salute each and every one of you, brave knights, and you, fair damsels!

I beg allow me to introduce myself:

I am Don Alvaro Rojovivo, Conde de Albaroja. My friends call me Don
Rojo. Mine enemies have not found a name for me that will not cause
them to tremble in their boots, indeed, there are very few of them left.

I was chosen by the Council of Ten as envoy and observer. 'Twas long
ago that I walked the Bridge of Sighs and survived. I ask your
forgiveness if I err in my speech for your language is not an easy one.
I am far more able in my native tongue. Indeed, on ocassion I can touch
the middle of my forehead.

In my travels from Concha y Morcilla, the city of my birth, I passed
through the Kingdom of Sarnoso the IIIIII where I had this exquisite
Paleta made by their able artisans. I profer it to you as a gift from
the council as well as myself. Crafted in the style of the Southern
Lands it is somewhat different from the one in your Coat of Arms.
May it serve you well!

I am to return to the Council of Ten with a compleat description of the
punishment to be administered to the the fair lady by hand and rattan.
They well know that I am not given to boast or exaggeration and seldom
stray from the truth by more than a couple of leagues.

As is proper hospitality for envoys, I beseech you provide me with a
firkin of your best ale to fortify me in my task.
Please call me Don Rojo. I am humbly at your service.

(maid approaches with ale)
Ah! Many thanks for the tankard to sample, most fair maid!

(raises tankard high)
A toast I say, to the Lady Amanda! A flores... y a hojas... y a mujeres con
nalgas rojas!

(all drink)

Many thanks for your hospitality. From the expression on the face of
Sir James, the news he brings and Sir bj's sigh methinks I may be here a
while. I hope you will honour your hospitality with that firkin soon.
We shall toast Lady Goldilocks also...

comments ************ 05/10 22:37
.....re: Greetings and Salutations from The Council of Ten - bj

.....G'day my friend
.....Gladly with you I'll bend
.....An arm with ale full loaded
.....I likewise fear a bar eroded

.....'Ere noble James in full time
.....Bends his good right arm
.....To draw to its conclusion the saga protracted
.....Which surely ends on Amandas butt enacted.

.....bj

************ 5/10 11:00
re: Welcome, Don Rojo! - red.red

.....Don Rojo,

.....A very warm welcome to you, Sir! I drink to your health and to
.....the events to come! And I praise the poet for his great welcome
.....also. Pull up a chair, make yourself comfortable. Tell us,
.....how's Venice these days?

.....red.red

************************ 5/10 17:12
Deeply honoured, kind Sirs... - Don Rojo

(sitting down at the Rectangular Table opposite bj and red.red)

Sir bj,
A wonderful poet you are, Sir! The words flow from your tongue as
smoothly as this ale down my gullet! 'Tis an honour to drink with you,
Sir!
(drinks)

Sir red.red,
'Tis an odd name you sport , Sir! And an odd way with your phrasing.
But no matter. I've not been to Venice for many years. I was carousing
at Manolo's Cave with a fine wench, a good chato and some tapas when the
messenger from the Council arrived. It seems the Doge has been on
vacation for some time and it is they who are in charge for now. One
does not question their commands, Sir!

(he shakes visibly, strokes the top of his right forearm as if to ease
its bushy hair)

Not for long, Sir! The last of their sentences I saw carried out is
engraved in my brain, kind Sirs... eyes put out, teeth hammered in,
mouth sewn shut and then drawn and quartered... upon my soul, Sir, true
to a word, true...

(with shaky hand reaches for his ale, empties it slowly, drowning the
memory in the mellow liquid, bj and red.red drink with him.)
(setting the empty tankard down, he looks for the lovely maid, but bj
has already summoned her and she arrives with more ale and is thanked by
all)

Ah! What good ale! Cleanses the mind and purifies the soul! The city
has not changed much from what I have heard through friends, kind Sirs.
I was moved West as far away as possible, into the Western reaches of
Iberia. I remain in their thrall and they send me here and there and
from time to time...

(quaffs the mellow brew and is joined by the others)

comments ************ 5/10 20:06
.....More questions for you, Don Rojo... - red.red

.....Don Rojo,

.....The Ten were obviously quite piiisssed off by this fellow, but
.....why? What could he have done to be treated like that? Did he
.....cross his middle fingers at them, or what? And you say you were
.....moved, was it at your request?

.....red.red

************************ 5/11 14:07
You ask difficult questions, Sir red.red... - Don Rojo

Indeed you do, Sir!

(drinks slowly and deeply, sets the empty vessel down)
(seeing the look on his face red.red waves at the lovely lass who
promptly brings another full one)
(he drinks again)

Your phrasing is... no matter. As for the sentence, it was perhaps
something he said, no one seems to know. Being moved... well, that is
a short story because, mercifully, I remember little of it. I was
caught stealing food for a hungry and sick child. I was brought to the
Council to be punished. I expected leniency. I saw ten faces that
without so much as a blink passed a sentence the cruelty of which caused
my senses to fail me completely. I did not hear it all...

(shudders, drinks)

The next memory I have is of being pushed slowly, relentlessly, down
the passageways of the Bridge of Sighs, trying to scream past my gag,
chains tight against my flesh, glimpses of a sunny day from the tiny
windows. Again, my memory fails.

(drinks more deeply, his eyes brighten)

Then I remember opening my eyes to see a man standin over me with a
large piece of wood and a hammer. I will always remember his terrified
eyes as he dropped hammer and wood and ran screaming. I had been
pronounced and recorded as dead but I came to when he was closing the
coffin. I was badly hurt. I don't remember clearly. Somehow I came to
be in the house of an elderly aunt, the only family member I knew. She
cared for me for many days in a little room on one of the canals.

(drinks again, bj and red.red raise their tankards and he does also, as
the tankards meet bj and red.red utter a muted "to your health, Sir".)

Then, one night, they came, as expected. I knew I was watched, my only
doubts were when and what would they do with me. They could not admit
the mistake, nor live with it. Their minions bound and gagged me, threw
a hood over my head and put me in a small boat first, then a horse drawn
cart, then other carts... Sometimes they would feed me, always in a
darkened room, no questions were asked or answered. The days passed,
the language changed, when they took my hood off I was somewhere in
western Iberia.

(a stout lad approaches lugging a firkin of ale and a stand and places
it at Don Rojo's side, tap next to his elbow)

Aaah! You do live to up to your reputation, kind Sirs. A whole firkin
of this magical brew to chase away all unhappy memories and aid us in
our waiting! It will be a very pleasant wait, to be sure! Here, kind
Sirs, hand me your tankards! More ale! This is indeed good news!

(as Don Rojo refills the vessels the lovely maid enters with a tray of
meats, cheeses and bread)

Thank you, you lovely wench! This will please our bellies as much as
the sight of you pleases our eyes! Bring a tankard! Join us!

(she smiles, leaves and returns with one which Don Rojo eagerly fills)

I will tell you of a dancer I met at Manolo's Cave, a Flamenco dancer, a
woman..." (drinks slowly)

(the maid suddenly stands up and hurriedly departs)
(a puzzled frown sweeps over Don Rojo's face, he drinks again and sings)

"la donna e mobile... qual piuma'l vento... "

(bj and red.red join him in a rousing chorus ending in a hearty
"Salute!" and drink)

************************ 05/11 21:58
The maid returns... - narrator

(it is not quite time to refill again when the lovely maid returns. she
is dressed in a red apron trimmed with white lace. and nothing else.
her hair is wrapped on itself towering over her head and decorated with
a beautiful clasp. she approaches with downcast eyes and curtsies. She
then turns away and bows deeply showing a ravishing pair of cheeks to
Don Rojo and his hosts. they stand up to applaud but she cuts them
short by ending her bow and moving softly and quickly to Don Rojo's left
side. there she pulls herself flat onto the table. bj and red.red help
by pulling on her hands until her bottom is at the center of the table.
on knees and shoulders she then raises her butt high enough to leave a
gap two hands high under her belly. in unison, the three remove their
coats and mound them in the space provided. as she lets herself down
again her beautiful rear is displayed ready and eager for their
pleasure. her body lies across the table almost diagonally. BJ is on
her left, red.red is on her right. all three can easily reach her
cheeks. she looks at Don Rojo over her shoulder and utters a single,
crisp word)

Seguidillas!

(a broad grin spreads over Don Rojo's face. he turns to his hosts who
stare back blankly. a fraction of a second later red.red's face lights
up and he speaks to Don Rojo)

As our guest, Don Rojo, yours is the honor of taking the three's. BJ
and I will take the two's. (then to BJ) Do what I do, after I do it. (bj
looks back at him puzzled)

(Don Rojo lifts his right hand and looks at red.red who also lifts his)

(rr) and
(DR) Whack!
(rr) and
(DR) Whack!
(rr) and
(DR) Whack!
(rr) and a
(rr) Whack!
(rr) and a (he pauses waiting, looking at bj, whose face lights up)
(bj) Whack!

(rr) and
(DR) Whack!
(rr) and
(DR) Whack!
(rr) and
(DR) Whack!
(rr) and a
(rr) Whack!
(rr) and a
(bj) Whack!
...
(soon the rythm is established and it is she who measures it out
slapping the table with her right hand)

clap Whack! clap Whack! clap Whack! clap clap Wack! clap clap Whack!
clap Whack! clap Whack! clap Whack! clap clap Wack! clap clap Whack!

(a constant flow of twelve marks per measure punctuated on two, four,
six, nine and twelve by the palms finding their target on her reddening
cheeks)
(as the hands are lifted higher the rythm slows down)

clap WHACK! clap WHACK! clap WHACK! clap clap WHACK! clap clap WHACK!

HARDER! (she commands)

clap WHAACK! clap WHAACK! clap WHAACK! clap clap WHAACK! clap clap
WHAACK! (the palms pressing hard at the end of each stroke

(the room rings for a long time with the sound of flesh on delicious red
flesh. her buns quiver with each impact, darkening, swelling and
stinging with the ministrations of their palms)

BULERIAS! (she cries out over the din. Don Rojo tries to make the
message clear to his hosts)

Every beat. Keep the accents. Faster!

whack! WHACK! whack! WHACK! whack! WHACK! whack! whack! WHACK! whack!
whack! WHACK!

FASTER! (she demands loudly)

whack! WHACK! whack! WHACK! whack! WHACK! whack! whack! WHACK! whack!
whack! WHACK!

(as she moans and squirms, the barrage rises to a fever pitch until Don
Rojo quits, bringing it to a stop. he laments in mock exhasperation)

I need more ale and this insatiable trollop needs something else to keep
her attention! We've gotten barely a whimper out of her!

(she teases) Yes, Don Rojo. I am keeping my whimpers in case your gift
to these gentlemen should possibly merit it!

(she pushes herself backwards until she is bent over the edge of the
table in a most provocative position. she wags her dark crimson hips
seductively from side to side, but she relents and stands up. rubbing
and massaging her buns she addresses Don Rojo again)

Dear guest, I will pour more ale for you, but in exchange for hard
payment!

(Don Rojo replies) That you will easily get as soon as I have more ale,
you impudent wench

comments ************ 05/12 09:56
.....another maid enters

.....(The new maid defianantly enters with rum)
.....Ohhh....dear sir....as the beauty bends over Don Rojo lap...I
.....have betrayed you and need your punishment...Please spank me
.....until you are satisfied and my bum is crimson and my juices
.....flowing.....Then pass me to BJ for I long to feel his descipline
.....upon my bare derierre as he lifts my skirts and lowers my
.....bloomers to apply his powerful hand. Please , no red red as she
.....is woman.....

.....the naughty maid!

************ 05/13 10:11
.....re: another maid enters

.....o madam of the pert, luscious, breathtaking and mouthwatering
.....derriere,

.....Once an old Indian chief was faced with the desire of many of his
.....hot headed warriors for a war against a neighboring tribe. He
.....stood up in the council tee-pee and facing them simply dropped
.....his loincloth. After some thoughtful contemplation they
.....reconsidered their course of action. I dropped my loincloth when
.....I first came to this message board. It remains dropped.

.....red.red

************************ 05/13 10:17
Paleta - narrator

(the impudent wench has refilled their drinks. as they are enjoying
another sip a woman enters the room and announces)

"The punishment of Amanda has been cancelled! Or that is what the
people in charge of the great hall seem to think, anyway. There is even
rumour that they are going on a cruise around the world together."

(Don Rojo, bj and red.red look at each other. they raise their tankards
high without a sound and then drink again. Don Rojo acknowledges the
message delivered.)

We thank you, fair lady, for bringing us such news. We seem to have
found something to do that will keep us occupied for quite some time.
Would you join us, perhaps?

(the woman eyes the maid's glowing derriere, curtsies and leaves)

(Don Rojo turns to the maid)

Back to the business at hand. By the way, we seem to know your buns far
better than we know your name, madame, pray tell us what we may call
you!

I am usually called Nel but my given name is Nalgas (she winks at Don
Rojo)

You mischievous liar! None I've ever heard of are named that! You have
asked for it well enough! It is time... !

(pushes back his chair and grabbing Nel's right wrist with his left
hand, draws her across his lap. she follows gracefully. at his gesture
bj and red.red pull up another chair and lift her feet and legs onto
it.
he raises his right and says)

Looks like it could be warmed up some... WHAACK! unhh! (says she)

In this position I can bring a little more force to bear, I am not
trying to reach the middle of the table... WHAACK! unnhh!

Bring me that Paleta, will you lads? I would like to tell you why it is
shaped like that... WHAACK! unnhhh! (bj hands it to him but he
motions him to stop and he stands holding it)

(the implement in bj's hand is shaped like a paddleball paddle, perhaps
twice as large, but not as large as a tennis racket. it is made of oak,
perhaps the thickness of a little finger. there are five equally spaced
grooves running longitudinally in the middle of the active area. the
grooves are narrower than a little finger. the wood between the grooves
is a little wider than a thumb. looking into the grooves one is
reminded of old ladders with round wooden rungs. looking at either side
of the paleta it is easy to see round dark dots. they are the ends of
wooden dowels that traverse the entire active area, the rungs of the
ladders. this makes the paleta very strong and prevents it from
splitting under heavy impact. Don Rojo has raised his right arm quite
high.)

In the Southern Lands there is a game called fronton. The accent is on
the second syllable... WHAACK! uunnhh!

The game is similar to paddleball. It is played in a court much larger
than that of paddleball... WHAACK! uunnhhh!

but not as large as that of a jai-alai court. Fronton, for some reason,
seems to be a favorite of Franciscan monks... WHAAACK! uunnnhhh!

It is not unusual to see them taking part in informal tournaments
playing in their flowing brown robes... WHAAACK! uunnnhhh!

This is a paddle from that game. The ball is of hard black rubber and
it does sorely tax the fronton... WHHAAACK! uunnnhhh!

or front wall, as the game is played at maximum strength. The ball
travels at very high speed and ... WHHAAAACK! uuunnnhhh!

can be very dangerous if you are not paying strict attention to its
position at all times... WHHAAACK! uunnnhhhh!

am I describing it accurately, gentlemen, or should I repeat the
description in more detail... WHHAAACCK! uuunnnnhhhh!

I would think that Nel, here, is ready for the paleta. do you also
think so, bj and red.red? (they nod in rapt and silent agreement)

(Don Rojo takes the paleta as bj hands it to him, moves it up and down
lightly getting the feel of it, raises it quite high and brings it down
sharply across the middle of Nel's buns)

WWHHHOCCKK! aaaaaahhhhhhh!

(as the paleta is lifted showing five white long stripes on the crimson
flesh which promptly recover into an even darker crimson. Nel's right
hand moves back as if to protect her burning rear. her fingers are
splayed out so that her small, ring and middle fingers are held together
and the space to the index finger is quite open.)

(Don Rojo leans toward her head which he lifts with his left hand and
says softly into her ear.)

Who sent you?... Manolo (she responds)

(his left hand clasps her right wrist pulling it back, his right raises
the paddle high and brings it down harder)

WWWHHHHOCCCKKK! aaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!

(again Don Rojo lifts her head and asks)

Who sent you?... Manolo (she responds in the same softly quiet tone of
voice)

(Don Rojo reaches with his right hand until he is holding the handle of
the paleta vertically over the table. he strikes the table three times
with the handle and says)

p'arriba, Manolo, p'arriba!... (upward, Manolo, upward)

(Don Rojo raises the paleta again and brings it down whistling.)

WWWWHHHHOh... (the air shimmers in the space previously occupied by
their bodies, then emits a soft "plop!"... they are no longer in the
room.)

(after a while red.red turns to bj and says)

Well, if I remember correctly, he said something like: "they send me
here and there and from time to time..." I thought it an odd turn of a
phrase then. p'arriba... upward... in time? Nah! We probably just had
a little too much ale.

I'm turning in. Good night, bj.

Good night, red.red.

comments ************ 05/14 05:49
.....re: paleta - bj

.....lol
.....must be the beer
.....beam me up scotty!
.....bj

************ 05/14 09:04
.....re: scotty's on vacation - manolo

.....pues si, senor.

**************************
when?... - narrator

(there was a soft "plop!" followed by a light hissing sound, then
...oOCCCKKK! aaahh!... the sound froze in Nel's throat as they both tightened
up in fear of the darkness that now surrounded them. the whistling in their
ears and the pounding in their chests were overpowering as the echoes of the
paddle stroke and of her voice quickly died down. her right hand was clenched
around his left ankle. his right hand was clenched around the handle of the
paleta holding it down hard where it had landed on her buns. straining to
sense where they were now, they paid almost no attention to the rest of their
bodies, only to their eyes, which saw nothing, and their ears, which heard
nothing. Nel was the first to shift her attention to her cheeks which were
squashed by the paleta, its grooves burning into her stinging flesh. two
gentle squeezes on his ankle brought Don Rojo's attention to his right hand
which relaxed slightly as it lifted the paleta. another gentle squeeze of his
ankle told him how thankful she was. their eyes took a while to perceive that
there was a very faint glow coming from their right, where the fireplace had
been earlier... how much earlier? with his mouth against her left ear he
whispered...)

He moved us up three or four hours, best I can guess...

I think I can tell, help me up...

(with great care and much help from Don Rojo she managed to stand up with only
a slight rustle of skin against skin as their hands clasped and pushed against
each other. as she started to move away from him, he gripped her wrist and
pulled back gently but she squeezed his hand to reassure him and kept moving.
they could now see that they were in the same room. she moved slowly into the
shadows to the side of the fireplace, then returned with something in her hands.
she pushed her clothes almost into Don Rojo's face who gripped her wrist again
in understanding. she moved away again and with a small but alarming creaks she
slowly opened the large door into the hallway. their minds relaxed as the
ragged snoring of the guests in the upper rooms reached their ears. she closed
the door again and latched it with a sigh of relief...)

We have this room to ourselves then...

Yes we do, Nel, and I want to know what happened to your paleta.

A traveler... stayed one night, almost a month ago... we had a lot of ale...
he used the paleta very well, we both had fun... but I didn't remember my potion
and by the time I woke up in the morning he and the paleta were gone... and I
want to know how you managed to drink so much ale and stay as sober as you are...

All of us are different, Nel. Manolo gave you something to help you so you
would not get sick on the foldings. I don't seem to need it, I sober up as I
enter the folding and it doesn't bother me. The ale was strong but not that
overpowering for me. Anyway, now everyone is sure that we are gone and we are
alone... Well? Should we continue? Do you feel like heating up those beautiful
cheeks again, Nalgas? Do we chance waking up everybody with our fun?

(without a word she went to the fireplace and, bending most teasingly, stirred
the embers until the room glowed softly. then she quietly came to his side
again and gently, invitingly, draped her beauty over his lap. He put the
paleta on the table, raised his right arm and...)

WHAACKK!... unnhh! (and after a little silence to sense how loud it really was)

WHAAACKKK!... unnnhhh! much better, a little harder, please, Don Rojo...

WHAAAACCKKK!... unnnnhhhh! just like that 'till they are good and warm again...

You wouldn't happen to be having a birthday would you, Nalgas?

Oh, yes! Don Rojo. Today I am probably 70 or 80 years old, I can't tell
anymore with all these time jumps...

You know, Nalgas, I think it is going to be a great pleasure helping you find
that lost paleta.

WHAAAACCKKK!... unnnnhhhh!

... (and 77 well laid on strokes of his heavy hand later)

WHAAAAACCCKKKK!... uunnnnnhhhhh!

Now, Nalgas, since you seem to have a little problem remembering how old you
really are, how about we use the paleta for the last 20, huh?

Oh, I don't know, Don Rojo, I am not very good at keeping count...

I am not very good at that either, Nalgas, perhaps we'll get better as we go
along...

WWWHHHHOCCCKKK! aaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!

(... about two dozen hard strokes of the paleta later)

WWWHHHHOCCCKKK! aaaahhhh... sshhh! I think we better jump...

I heard it too, Nel, grab you clothes...

(the handle of the paletta struck the table once again and with the words
"p'arriba, Manolo...p'arriba" followed by one more stroke on her willing tail
they were gone... as the air stopped shimmering the door was being shaken by
someone with a shrill, impatient voice)

Damn, that latch dropped again! (shaking the door harshly) Open up!...
Open up!... Who goes there?...

red.red