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Happy New Year Spanking - 01/01/05
At midnight, it was the typical New
Year's Eve in our neighborhood: a few loud clangs, horns, some bells and the
occasional large firecracker around the corner. Twenty minutes later, the noise
level was almost normal. For us, it had been a hard year. We needed our sleep
much more than any partying. After a few minutes of TV, my wife dozed off on
the couch and I went back to surfing the spanking websites. The occasional
firecrackers became fewer, what little party noise could be heard became
quieter.
A year and a half had passed since my last spanking. Our lives had
changed considerably during that time. There were many valid reasons for such
deprivation. Still, a year and a half... And if I didn't do something about it
immediately, it could be another six to eight weeks before I could even
consider enjoying a good spanking. It was a case of "carpe hairbrush".
I
would have liked to set up the camcorder - a number of modifications to its
perches were partially done - but just the thought of turning this very messy
room back into a video studio was daunting. What a pity! I would not be able to
watch the spanking, live or recorded. Even thinking about it was consuming
precious time. In a sense, the night was young, or so my excitement level told
me. But in a couple of hours of bun beating I'd be into the 3 AM "wall". What a
strange and wonderful feeling: to have no choice except to start spanking
immediately!
The implements were easy to find. The closest neighbors were
apparently gone for the night so there was little need for noise abatement. In
a few minutes, the holy hairbrush was licking my cheeks with its tongue of
fire. Were they ready for it! Somewhere near 500 good strokes, a very sleepy
wife opened the playroom door.
"Oh, I wondered when you were going
to..."
"Well, I would really appreciate some help a little later, but I
still have a ways to go."
"Call me when your are ready. I'll make a little
coffee." (wonderful is her middle name)
About 300 hundred strokes later, I
asked for "a bit of brush" which she willingly applied to my backside. We
played with the hairbrush, then the 3/4" dowel, the hairpin, a two-tined
fiberglass rake. And then, with my cheeks hardening and swollen but only about
half as far as we usually take them, she said:
"You know, I am not going to
be able to do it much longer... a short while, ok... but I really have to get
some rest soon."
What to do. Her right arm was as good as ever. But her
stamina was low and recovering slowly. What to do.
What I had avoided for
many years was now the only solution. The justified fear of bone bruises and
the preference for the standing position gave way. We had made the
mother of all canes, nearly 5
times the hitting power of the typical rattan. Perhaps my cheeks were swollen
enough to provide the needed cushioning to avoid bone bruising with this
monster of my own creation.
I bent over the back of a sturdy wooden chair
with my head very close to the seat. My forearms were almost flat on the seat.
My hands gripping the edges of the seat gave me a great sense of comfort. I
don't know why. It just felt good - a welcome reassuring feeling. My cheeks
were stretched tight presenting a target that was almost horizontal and so
easily covered that there was very little concern for "strays".
After a few
tries, we settled on volleys of 12 strokes spaced a little less than a second
apart. The close timing made for better control and higher accuracy, I was
told. Perhaps my barely coping with each volley without rising from my position
or releasing my grip on the chair contributed to her enthusiasm and
delivery.
Indeed, every set was a barely conquerable challenge. And oddly
enough, the most desperate moments came early in each volley, on the fourth or
fifth stroke. There was more "peaking" in the extremely sharp impact of the
early strokes. The rest of the way was a steady climb to an almost overwhelming
burn - extremely satisfying when the count was reached with head bent back and
torso almost rising but with hands tight and forearms still nearly flat on the
chair seat.
Between sets we gave the arm muscles and the cheek muscles a
little rest. I can't say how long these rest stops were. We continued as soon
as it felt appropriate to continue. It could have been less than two minutes. I
doubt very much that it was more than three.
We counted out 12 sets. Then it
appeared that my right cheek could stand some extra attention. Perhaps 20 of
these right-cheek-only strokes strokes were devoted to that attempt.
Concentrated on one cheek, the burn was memorable as they did a reasonable job
of restoring the balance.
My cheeks were now covered with faint stripes,
some darker, some lighter than the background overwhelmingly deep red. The
usual after spanking euphoria was full-on as was the over all burn - on the
surface as well as deep in the muscles.
But the bruises, dark spots, or
other marks typically associated with the caning of people with dermographic
skin were missing.
Exhausted, we called it a night. I slept reasonably well,
given the level of excitement. I rolled over on my back from time to time to
feel the press of the mattress against the swelling. I hadn't felt quite like
that for the last several spankings. This was something special. Still, that
vague disappointment of lacking really visible marks kept bothering me.
We
got up well past noon and had a fine breakfast. A short while after that, I
asked if she would give me a few more but this time with the graphite bar. She
complained mildly about a sore arm and shoulder but fortunately agreed.
This implement is not cylindrical. It is square in cross
section, about 1/4" (6 mm) in size and just as long as the loaded cane. The
edges are barely not sharp (radiused less than 1/32", perhaps 0.3 mm). Anyway,
an extremely rigid carbon graphite reinforcement bar with barely sanded edges.
It is lighter than the loaded cane and has the same kind of wooden handle for
full control and accuracy.
Back I went over the back of the chair. The first
12 strokes worked up from a tentative medium hard to the appropriate full fury
strokes. After some hard breathing still in position, I asked for another 12.
At the end of those 12 I had the marks shown in the
photos.
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The photos were taken about 6 hours
later after a fairly excruciating "refreshing" of the surface. The lighting was
incandescent and a little dim so the unspanked skin tone is darker than in the
03/08/03 and the 07/19/03 shots. All photos are unretouched - straight out of
the camera.
For almost 2 days, sitting was quite resonable on regular height
chairs. On a low hassock that places the load on the middle of the cheeks, it
was a challenge. Back to the "platform buns" of old when we indulged in paddle
marathons. One month afterwards, the feeling is returning to the center of the
cheeks, although it is still a "leathery" feeling. There are pink areas at the
center of both cheeks, particularly the right one. Surface scabs are gone. In a
few weeks I should be able to do it again. This one will be
recorded.
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