"And now a word from our spons...{7... 5... }... in tomorrow for more fun with our friends from Beet Street... { 2...} you a special edition of the 4 O'Clock News... {click}Episode 2 {...2 ...4... 5...} in tomorrow for more fun with our friends from Beet Street. And now a word from our sponsor (aw, shoot! missed Beet Street.again...) { ...7...9} is the second episode of As the Paddle Lands brought to you by the makers of Brighter Than Blazes. Ladies... ( why didn't they call it "As the Welt Burns"? hah! ha! ha! I wonder... ) and now... *** fanfare *** .... ladies and gentlemen, the second episode of As the Paddle Lands brought to you by Brighter Than Blazes, the only detergent that won't let your undies down. Ladies, have you dressed in your best schoolgirl costume? Can't wait for the caning to start, and now you have been turned down by your Headmaster because your undies are not blazingly white? Don't risk rejection! Don't settle for greyed out whites! Use Brighter Than Blazes! Today! *** louder fanfare and full screen logo     AS THE PADDLE LANDS        Episode 2           in crimson block letters on a blazing white background *** Episode 2 - ADVICE It was grey and drizzly when Rod got home. He had taken the afternoon off after a boring morning at work and was very uneasy about his appointment with Dr. Weldon. The man was busy, five weeks to the first available appointment. Today was the day. It was only quarter after one, the appointment was at three thirty and the drive was only fifteen minutes. So there was at least an hour and a half to kill. Rod had been toying with the idea all morning. (if I am going to go talk to a shrink about my red butt perhaps I should do it when I have a red butt... seems reasonable to me... he chuckled to himself... of course, anything that has to do with a red butt seems reasonable to me... ) His toys had moved from the garage to the lowest drawer of his dresser after their first spanking together. He was glad not to have to hide things from Anne anymore. The day after their spanking her early enthusiasm had waned quickly and she was uneasy talking about it. (we went too far... maybe the bleeding bothered her more than she let on... whatever... she is just waiting for my talk with Weldon... I hope that's all...) He took the short paddle and the two blankets and went into the bathroom. After a very few strokes with the hairbrush he came out again and tuned in a rock music station on the radio and turned up the volume. Then he turned his attention again to warming up his buns properly. As he whacked away at his cheeks he tried to put his thoughts together for Dr. Weldon. What to say first? How to say it? At times his mind raced with descriptions and explanation after explanation until he would almost stop spanking. At times there were no thoughts at all, other than to cover his cheeks with as even a shade of bright red as he could. Not too fast or too hard, he kept reminding himself, just enough that it would be possible to pick it up again when he returned. He checked the kitchen clock every two or three rounds. He admitted his anxiety to himself. Opening up to Anne appeared easier before he did it, after all, they had shared a lot of really good times. If only she didn't feel so uneasy about it. But Dr. Weldon... he might just sit there and tell him that he had taken leave of his senses and that he could not see how it could have any pleasure in it except as self punishment. Who knows what he would say!. Warming his buns in this state of mind was definitely not the most pleasant way of doing it, but he could not see much choice. He wanted to feel fully reminded of the feelings that brought him back to spanking again and again. He left the house at at ten minutes after three and was at Dr. Weldon's office by twenty after, almost ten minutes early. The receptionist greeted him apologetically. "We are running late today, Mr. Burns. Please have a seat. The doctor will be with you as soon as possible."(no, thank you, nurse, I already have one... heh! heh! heh!... oh! well... warm buns are for sitting on, aren't they?... ) It was almost twenty minutes later when the receptionist came to usher him to one of the inside rooms. "Dr. Lott will be with you in a minute. Please sit down." (Dr. Lott? what happened to Dr. Weldon?... does it really matter, anyway? I have not seen him in 6 years?... 7?... whatever...) He rose from his chair in surprise and unease as a stocky, middle aged lady with a very friendly face came through the door and said: "Sit down, Mr. Burns, and relax. I am Doctor Lott, Charlene Lott. Dr. Weldon had to be absent and asked me to take his patients just for today. Sit down, Mr. Burns, please sit down." He finally did while she walked over to the other side of the large desk and sat facing him. "Now, Mr. Burns, what brings you here today?" Rod was definitely not ready for this. He had rehearsed the way he was going to approach the subject as if he was going to talk to a man. It should not make a difference. But he wasn't ready. Or perhaps he was going to be tongue-tied anyway, like telling Anne the first time. He just couldn't find the starting point. He stared dumbly at her at first, then lowered his eyes and could not find the words. "Mr. Burns... I can't know what brings you here and how I can help you if you don't tell me. Please say what's on your mind. Anything you say here is completely confidential, you know." (OK... nothing to loose... I don't know you... I will never see you again... and all this is for Anne to feel a little more at ease... that was a comfortable thought... still... how do I say... there it was again, the feeling that he was pushing the universe uphill... ) "Ah!... uh... well... It's like this, Doctor uh... Doctor Lott... I... I like to... uh... spank myself... from time to time... " Something like a smile fleetingly registered on both of their faces now that the first few words had been uttered. "You want to punish yourself for some reason, Mr. Burns" "No, Doctor, really I don't... it's not punishment... as I see it... it's different, it's not a punishment for me..." "Most people connect spanking with pain and punishment, Mr. Burns. Are you sure that you are not somehow punishing yourself for something?" "Yes, to the best of my knowledge, Doctor. There are things I have done that I wish I hadn't... and for which I feel responsible... but they are very much in my past. Resolved as well as I can resolve them. It's not guilt, as far as I can see." " If you don't, then how do you interpret what you do? What does it do for you?" "Well... the redness is always exciting... visually... to me. And when I do it for a long time my... my cheeks get swollen and that is a very pleasurable feeling. " "So you suffer pain in order to get these rewards, these pleasures." "It stings a lot but it isn't that painful, Doctor. I warm up for a long time and don't hit really hard until close to the end. Then I can hit really hard and it doesn't hurt that much. Then my... my cheeks get very swollen." "Mr. Burns, I have seen many patients that come to me with stories that are not very believable. They just want whatever tranquilizer or anti-depressant is popular at the time. Are you depressed Mr. Burns?" "No! I came to see Dr. Weldon because I would like for my wife to play at this with me and her reaction is almost like yours. No one believes it, but no one has experienced it either, do you understand?" "Maybe, Mr. Burns. But it is difficult to know that you are not just stringing me along. How often do you do this?" "Perhaps two or three times a year, more if I could." "And you spank yourself with your hand?" "No. Usually with a hairbrush... sometimes with a short paddle." "When was the last time you did this, Mr. Burns?" His face flushed, he looked down, his chest felt like it might burst trying to say something that wouldn't come out of his mouth. It had seemed so simple a short time ago. "Did you do this recently?" He nodded. "Very recently?" He nodded again. She paused and the silence was deafening. "Perhaps just before you came here, Mr. Burns?" Through tightened jaws, he managed a barely audible "Yes". Dr. Lott got up from her chair, walked to the window and closed the drapes. "Please get up from your chair and turn around, Mr. Burns." Without looking at her he did as she asked. She walked back to her chair behind the desk and said slowly: "Please lower your pants and shorts, Mr. Burns and show me. Do not, I repeat, do not turn around. I do not wish to see any other part of you. Understood, Mr. Burns?" "Yes, Dr. Lott" Rod slowly lowered his jeans and then pulled down his shorts just below his cheeks. "Please raise your t-shirt, Mr. Burns, I can't see through your underwear." Rod did as he was told. Dr. Lott was silent for a while. Then she reached for her purse and searched its contents noisily for a few moments. "Mr. Burns, would you be so kind as to reach your right arm toward me but without turning around, do you understand?" "Yes, Dr. Lott" His right hand closed around a vaguely familiar object (it feels like the handle of a plastic hairbrush!...). He brought his arm forward and looked at what was in his hand. It was a very ornate plastic hairbrush, faceted, sculpted, all angles and reflecting surfaces, and enough of a flat area... Her terse voice quickly ended his inspection. "Now, would you please show me exactly what you do, Mr. Burns?" ( sure thing, Doc, but...) "It's going to be noisy, Dr. Lott." "That's right. Thank you, Mr. Burns. Please wait a minute." She left the office for a short time and closed the door quietly behind her when she returned. "Please wait a few more minutes, Mr. Burns. Mary was about to leave early anyway. You will feel more comfortable if you know that no one is listening." He nodded, still absorbed in the hairbrush that she had handed to him. So elegant, almost too good to use for spanking. Was it strong enough? What if he broke it? The sound of the outer office door closing brought him back. "Now, Mr. Burns. Kindly take a few whacks at yourself so that I can see exactly how and what you do to yourself." Rod obliged. He didn't need a mirror to cover the familiar landscape with well placed swats. "I want you to hit as hard as you can, Mr. Burns. Hard! Do you understand?" "No, Dr. Lott. I don't want to do that. That is really... not what I want to do. Several minutes from now I may be able to hit much harder and not hurt, but not now." "Fine, Mr. Burns, please continue." Rod continued to pound his butt raising the level of his spanking as fast as he could. The longer he spanked the more he accepted that it was somehow the right thing to do. Soon he was spanking quite hard, his arm rising almost an arm length from his cheeks and coming down hard. "That is quite interesting, Mr. Burns, you are not very swollen yet. When does that happen?" "It would take another ten or fifteen minutes, ma'm" "The unfortunate part, Mr. Burns, is that I must meet a colleague downtown at four thirty and, as you know, that is hardly enough time to get there. It's five after now. Please get dressed without turning around Mr. Burns. If you would be so kind as to make another appointment I will see that you are properly credited for this short visit. You can set up the appointment with Dr. Weldon or with me. Here is my card, on the desk. You can call me at your convenience. Sorry to be so short but I must go, Mr. Burns. When you come out I will see you to the front door." She reached under the desk and moved something that made a loud clicking sound. Then she left the room while Rod was still tucking his shirt into his pants. Disappointment and dejection washed over him as he hurried to get dressed. All this mostly for nothing. The next appointment would be at least four weeks away and there was nothing that he could say to Anne and be believed. Rod finished zipping up his jeans and walked out the door. Dr. Lott closed it as soon as he had stepped into the hallway. Then her hand gripped his elbow firmly as she said: "Wait." (huh?) They stood there while she looked intently at her wristwatch. A very long fifteen seconds later she opened the door again and said: "It's alright to go back in Mr. Burns. Your appointment is not over. I have several things I should tell you." (what the hell...) Rod did as he was told. He sat down again on one side of the desk and Dr. Lott sat on the other. "Mr. Burns, first, there are things you should know about our profession and its risks. At one point in his career Dr. Weldon had a patient who became quite violent in this very office. Dr. Weldon was physically hurt and there were serious legal repercussions. He and I and many others in the mental health field keep continuous record of all of our patient interviews." "I don't understand" "We video tape our sessions, Mr. Burns, every last one of them. You and everyone else I saw today are on video tape. Do you understand? Don't worry. These tapes go into vaults. After a while they are purged... regularly. Every measure is taken to protect patient privacy... but above all, our personal security, Mr. Burns. I have been luckier than Dr. Weldon, but not by much. Bad things can and do happen. We try to protect ourselves. " "Anyway, Dr. Weldon told me that he had two cameras in this office. I turned off one of those shortly after lunch because I don't like quite that much surveillance. I turned off the second one just before I went out. You heard the switch. It has a time delay. There are things that I will say to you outside the reach of his cameras that I should say to you. It is possible that there is a third camera still on but what I have just said will protect your privacy if it is ever necessary. But enough of surveillance. I would like to see you continue your spanking, Mr. Burns, if you don't mind. I have several things to say to you that should help you. But please face away from me, Mr. Burns, when you lower your pants. Here is the hairbrush." She was looking at him with a very kind smile as she handed him the brush. Grateful, still puzzled, stunned by the surveillance thing, he turned away, lowered his pants, raised his t-shirt again and continued where he had left off. After a couple of dozen very heavy swats, he paused, breathing hard. "Rest, Mr. Burns, rest while I talk a little at you. You are of particular interest to me, Mr. Burns. Not personally, no, I am happily married to a man with whom I have shared and will continue to share my life (...however, it would be a lie to say that I don't find your buns a great turn-on, Mr. Burns... particularly with that brush on them... ). The reason is that there is someone very close to me whose behavior is very, very similar. All that I can learn from this person and anything I can learn from you is of great interest to me. Many of us in the mental health field have patients that express their emotional needs in ways that most people call sado-masochism. The pursuit of pain as pleasure, whether giving or receiving. These activities are difficult to understand until they are experienced (... a little close there, oh well!...). It is very difficult, from an outsider's point of view, to get to the mindset that goes with these activities. Spanking is one of these activities that is difficult to understand by the average person. Your wife may welll take a long time to come to accept an experience that she has considered painful for her entire life. But I am letting you cool off too much, I think, please continue for another... few minutes, Mr. Burns (Christ! I almost said for another round...) Rod obeyed and pounded his cheeks with increased vigor until he was breathing hard again. He paused. "You came to me for two reasons, Mr. Burns. One is the simplest of needs of those who do unorthodox things. That is validation. You, and your wife, want to know if in my professional experience and opinion you are OK, so to speak. You want to know if you are crazy. If there is a monster loose inside of you and this is the very tip of its nose. Can I tell you what the rest of the demon looks like and keep you from trouble? Don't let me stop you, Mr. Burns, spank on for a few more minutes while I put some more thoughts together." Rod obeyed again and pounded hard and long, until he again run out of breath and his forearm was cramping. "So, will you dig up some buried memory that is driving you to this? or will you pit your buns against the hairbrush, simply to enjoy a red and swollen butt? How long have you been doing this, Mr. Burns?" "Since I was in High School, Dr. Lott. Perhaps two or three times a year." "Do you try to hurt yourself, Mr. Burns? I mean serious, extreme pain and loss of control? And I mean serious... not play, not adult play. I don't mean "give the safe word and it stops" kind of thing. Have you craved pain?" "No, ma'm, I haven't." "And yet, at the very end of your spanking, sting may border onto pain." "Yes" "But you endure it to get redder and more swollen." "Yes" "Is there a certain point beyond which the swollen cheeks hurt too much and then you stop the spanking? (... oops! well... risky but safe... he looks glad enough that he isn't really listening to me that much...)" "Yes" "Do you want the redness to last for a long time?" "Yes, as long as possible." "Do you want to not be able to sit down from the spanking?" "Yes, but that seldom happens, that is just an expression. It looks red and sore but it doesn't hurt anymore. Not very much at all." A short silence followed "Did you hear what you just said, Mr. Burns?" "What did I... I said it looks red and sore but it doesn't hurt anymore." "It almost rhymes, Mr. Burns. Your voice suddenly sounded like the voice of a very young person, free of cares, relieved. What was it that doesn't hurt anymore? Sometimes, we talk to ourselves as much as to other people and it felt to me like perhaps this was such a thing. It's something worth considering. And yet, perhaps there was no other meaning in it at all. It is a playful thing that you do and when you are red and swollen you are having fun, why shouldn't you sound carefree? Like I said, Mr. Burns, the subject is very important to me. Any insight into the thinking and behaviour of someone who is very close to me is very welcome." "So, yes, I think I understand what you are saying, Mr. Burns. It doesn't mean I know much more about it now than an hour ago. It also means that there are other people that do this also. They, like you, would like to be accepted by their friends or mates. You are cooling again, Mr. Burns. Please continue." Cheered by her words, Rod redoubled his efforts, hitting harder and harder, wondering if the brush was going to break. He paused again. "I really hope that you and Anne will come to some reasonable understanding about this. At least so that, if she does not want to spank you, it will be acceptable to her for you to do it yourself. Mind you, I am not giving you a clean bill of mental health. I know next to nothing of your past. How can I guess if there are problems that have not yet surfaced in your life? Or when they might surface? Does this activity rule your life or is it something you can put down and forget for a couple of months at a time? Only you could answer that, if you had the freedom to do it whenever you wanted. You would like for her to participate. But she must not feel coerced into it, anymore than you should feel that it is somehow wrong for you to do it. You seem to be hurting no one by this activity. Why don't you spank a little more?" Rod obeyed, his arm was close to cramping but he managed the hardest twenty strokes he could and stopped, panting. "OK, Mr. Burns, I would recommend some therapy at this point which could do some good and at worst should do no harm. It will involve my using that hairbrush on you so I will need your verbal agreement. Do you agree to this form of therapy, Mr. Burns? It may be somewhat painful but certainly not much more than you have experienced." "You mean you are going to use this hairbrush on me? I guess so... yes... of course." "Good. Stay where you are, please." She moved to the side of the desk, moved a chair away clearing an area next to the desk, went to the book case and checked one of the books on the shelf, put it back and then returned to her place behind the desk. "Mr. Burns, would you place the small seat cushion that's on your chair in the middle of the floor area I cleared next to the desk. And after you do that, would you please lie down on it so that the cushion is under your belly. When you have arranged yourself on it, please put your arms at your sides, palms down on the rug. Do not face me, Mr. Burns, please. And leave the hairbrush on the desk." Rod obeyed silently. Soon he was face down on the rug, his rump raised by the seat cushion under his belly, his genitals kept from squashing and his palms on the rug as requested. Dr. Lott picked up the hairbrush, walked around the desk and took off her shoes a short distance from his head. "Do not move, Mr. Burns." She stepped over him steadying herself on the desk, placing one foot on each side of his rib cage and far enough apart that they were not touching his arms. "Breathe deep, Mr. Burns, and let it out." WHACK! Halfway through the exhalation the hairbrush landed in the middle of his left cheek harder than anything that had ever landed on him in his life. At the peak of the impact it had really hurt. Now it throbbed between stinging and hurting. It reminded him of Anne's first hard paddle swat. But before he could go much further in his reminiscing... WHACK! This time it was the middle of his left cheek. He twisted his right hip away from the floor. "Keep you palms and your hips flat on the floor, Mr. Burns. Do not move!" He obeyed. WHACK! WHACK! One on each side, exactly on the same two spots. His cheeks stung, burnt, cringed. He could have sworn that the middle of each cheek was a glowing ember about two inches above his buns. He breathed hard several times, then WHACK! WHACK ! WHACK! WHACK! Two repeats on each side. He could not help but groan and twist and strain against his palms, pressing the ground, almost lifting him off the rug. His legs and feet shook involuntarily. His arms almost started to reach for his cheeks. "Keep your hands and hips on the rug, Mr. Burns!" Dr. Lott waited long enough for the deep breathing to subside, then WHACK! WHACK! WHACK ! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK ! Three repeats to exactly the same two spots drawing a long grunt from his throat. How Rod managed to keep himself on the rug was not at all clear to him at that point. Perhaps his cheeks were deadening that quickly, he told himself. He was not sure he believed it. He was panting, his mind was burning, his ass was on fire. (... it's still attached ... I think ...) WHACK! WHACK! WHACK ! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK ! Exactly on the same two spots! His mouth was starting to make noises in spite of his clamped jaws. And when he thought he could slump to absorb those six, WHAACK! WHAACK! Again on the same two spots! Fire on top of fire built in his buns, his spine, his brain. Past the overwhelming burning in his buttocks and brain he could hear Dr. Lott's kind voice, punctuated by noisy breaths. "That is all, Mr. Burns. You see, your limits are higher than you thought. Those two spots will remind you of that for a little while I hope. Your wife should understand those two little spots. I hope that you will live happily together for a long time... and play together for a long time... and if it doesn't work out and you need support, please feel free to call on me. And if you need more therapy, I would warn you that the next session would start where this one left off." She put her shoes back on and moved to the far side of the desk. She was still breathing hard as she continued. "On a strictly personal basis, it is a pleasure to know you, Mr. Burns. There are not many like you. I hope Anne understands that too. If she has any questions tell her to please call me, perhaps we can have a quiet cup of coffee somewhere. I think it would be a good idea. There are some things I could tell her that could be helpful. Now please get up as soon as you can and get dressed facing away from me. I will wait right here." He was wobbly on his legs as he got up and rubbed and squeezed his buns several times. "It is good to enjoy them, isn't it, Mr. Burns? Go ahead and rub a little more. There is a bathroom down the hall two doors that has a large mirror. You should enjoy the view. But come back soon. We must be out of here before five and that is only ten minutes away. I will be waiting out in the hall." (... Weldon shouldn't give me any grief over this... and I would be surprised if there wasn't a third camera... but I got my book... Mr. Burns should feel pretty good after this... certainly more support than he thought he'd get when he came in... lovely tush under the brush... impossible to resist...) She walked around him and over to the bookcase to take a thick grey book from one of the shelves. He pulled up his pants then walked slowly out of the office and down the hall to enjoy the deep crimson color and feel the swelling and the stinging fire in his cheeks. He was too stunned to think of much else except that he had to stop playing with his cheeks in five minutes. When he came out again she was waiting by the office door. Handing him two cards, one for him and one for Anne, she walked him to the front door, unlocked it and let him out. After he had driven out of the parking lot she set the alarm, let herself out and locked the front door. It was raining softly as she walked to the far corner of the parking lot, got into her car and locked it. She put down the grey book softly on the passenger seat (...expensive, but indispensable...all the proof I hope not to need...)reclined her own seat, lowered the window slightly in spite of the rain and lit a cigarette. In the quiet, humid darkness of her car she let her mind relax after the second deep drag. (... that was risky, alright... legally, Weldon couldn't touch me... he said explicitly and with a witness that there were two cameras... still, five-to-one odds there was a third... and Mr. Burns certainly got his buns well warmed... I thought the brush would break, especially the last two... and he took them so well... too young... and I really love Albert... but what a fine set of cheeks... the only fly in the ointment could be Anne... he was so happy being understood... I would not have missed the chance to give him that support for anything... Weldon, Anne, I don't care... a really kindred soul... just like Albert, bless his heart... Anne will probably point out to him some of the meanings of what he heard... or what he thought he heard... a warm, happy puppy with beautiful red buns... ) Nicotine meditation almost done, she pulled up the back of the seat slowly, took one last drag from her cigarette and blew it gently out the window. Then she started the engine and drove slowly out of the parking lot, recognizing the courier car approaching as she eased her car onto the street. There went Weldon's archive tapes, she thought, but did he pick up two or three every evening? The images of Rod's cheeks kept her quite warm during the drive home. Enough so, in fact, that before she was even halfway there, she was accutely aware of the warm, wet spot between her legs and what she needed as soon as she arrived. She squeezed her legs together from time to time to keep it very alive as she drove in the rain. "And now a word from ...{7... 5... }please tune in tomorrow for more fun with our friends from Beet Street ... { 2...} bringing you a special edition of the 4 O'Clock News... {click} Episode 3 {...2 ...4... 5...} "Three hundrget und eihghty-five!... Haaaaaah! Haaaaah! Haaaah! Haaah! Haah! Hah!" (oh! good! I didn't miss Beet Street) "Mohg, Countessss???" "Ov cohgsse, Boris!" The huge hand lands again with full force on the crimson mounds. "Three hundrget und eihghty-six!... Haaaaaah! Haaaaah! Haaaah! Haaah! Haah! Hah!" "Mohg, Countessss???" "Ov cohgsse...!" "Oh! oh! Countess, Countess... here comes Big Bird again!" "Thank you for warning me, Tapioca Pudens, dahgling! now run along, dear!" (yeah, run along, Tapioca, that's a good girl... no kidding... no wonder they call him Big Bird... look at the size of that...) "Oh! dear! Oh! Boris, don't be so jealous! You know you're bigger than that and I love you much more than Big Bird..." "We interrupt to bring you a word from our sponsors. We will return to Beet Street in just a few moments, so please don't go away... " { ...7...9} is the third episode of As the Paddle Lands brought to you by the makers of Brighter Than Blazes. Ladies... ( why didn't they call it "As the Belt Burns"? hah! ha! ha! I wonder... ) and now... red.red