Saturday, October 31, 2009

Happy Halloween

Do You Need A Spanking???

Happy Halloween everyone.  Hope everyone's bottom glows like a pumpkin today.  And yes, I desperately need a spanking.  It has been over a month now.  I am trying to think of a naughty trick to play on C that would earn me a spanking treat.  I can just imagine C dressed in a sexy witch costume working her magic on my bottom.  What tricks do you play on your spanker to earn a spanking?  If you have ideas please let me know in a hurry.  I'm desperate.

Again, Happy Halloween, and I hope everyone gets their just "desserts."

Artist: Unknown, from Luv_Her_Control Yahoo Group

Friday, October 9, 2009

A Spanking Fantasy Part II

The wedding was fun, although I ate and drank too much at the reception. I was busy most of the evening entertaining bridesmaids.  At one point I did notice that C and Rosalynn were in deep conversation.  Wonder what they are up to?

The wedding was over.  We went back to the hotel and I collapsed into bed and went to sleep thinking about the clerk at the bath shop, and wondering what she was imagining when she had her little orgasm.  I’m sure she had an orgasm.

We slept late on Sunday morning.  C was up first, of course.

“Throck, get up and take a shower and get into your punishment panties.  We have some unfinished business to take care of.”

“Oh C, please.  Can’t we wait until we get home?”

“No, we can’t.  Oh, and before you take a shower, I think you had better have an enema.  You are going to do some serious corner time and I don’t want excuses about having to go to the bathroom.”

“No, no.  I don’t need that.”

“Yes, you do.”

“What will you give me an enema with?  We didn’t bring anything.”

“I have my douche syringe.  I’ll use that.”

“No, that will hurt.  Besides, you can’t use it if you give me an enema with it.”

“You’re right.  It will be yours after this.  I’ll just send you to the drug store to buy me a new one.  Now quit whining and get in position on you knees, and don’t give me any trouble or I’ll double your strokes.”

Oh my god.  What has gotten into this woman?  I assumed the knee chest position on the bed.  I heard C filling her syringe in the bathroom. She came into the bedroom with a full syringe and a tube of lubricant. 

C set the syringe, glistening with lubricant, on the bedside table.  The nozzle was nearly eight inches long and an inch in diameter.  My legs were shaking.  “Reach back and spread your cheeks apart for me,” said C.

C applied some lube to my anus and picked up the syringe.

“Oh, please don’t, please don’t,” I whined.

“Hush now,” said C.  “This will just hurt a little.”

I felt the tip of the syringe against my anus.  “Relax now,” said C.  “Take a few deep breaths.”  She thrust the nozzle into my rectum with a slow but steady motion.  I groaned.
Instead of immediately injecting the water she stroked the douche syringe in and out several times.  I groaned more.

“You like being sodomized with my syringe, don’t you?”

“Noooo,” I whined.  I did like it.

“Oh, I think you do.”

She stroked me for nearly a minute, and then said, “Here it comes,” and squeezed the water into me.

She pulled the syringe out and said.  “Hold that, I’m going to give you one more.”

“Oh no,” I groaned.

C refilled her syringe and returned to the bedroom. 

“Okay, sweetie, here it comes.”  She thrust the syringe into my rectum, and again stroked it in and out, finally injecting the fluid.  I moaned softly.

“Can you see the clock radio on the bedside table?” C asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“The time is 10:22.  I want you to hold the enema for ten minutes.  At 10:32 you can go to the bathroom.  Then take a shower, put on your punishment panties and come to the living room.  Understand? ”

“Yes,” I groaned.

“Oh, and take one of your little blue pills.  I want you in the same state for your spanking as you were the other night when you did your naughty thing.”

C left the bedroom and I waited, the water churning inside of me.  Ten minutes seemed like an eternity.  Several times I wondered if I would make it.  I knew if I didn’t my strokes would be increased.  Finally 10:32 lit up on the clock and I rushed to the bathroom.  The relief was wonderful. 

I showered, put on the boy shorts and took a pill.  What a waste of a pill; my “state” as C called it would last about ten seconds after my spanking started.  I got the perfume I had bought to give her as a present, hoping it might mitigate my spanking.  I went to the living room to see what else C had in store for me.  We were in a very nice suite, living room, small kitchen and bedroom.

C was sitting in the club chair. She had dressed for occasion in a white sleeveless blouse and a knee length full black skirt that buttoned down the front.  The skirt had a wide belt with a patent leather buckle.  She had on her pearls, and matching pearl earrings that could just be seen peaking out beneath her short dark hair.  Overall, a very sexy and appropriately severe look.  “Kneel in front of me,” she said.  I knelt and presented her with my gift.

“What is this?”

“I bought you a little gift,” I said sheepishly.

C unwrapped the present. “Spank Me,” C laughed. “How appropriate, I will indeed.  Throck, it was sweet of you to get me a present but you understand that it will not get you out of your spanking, don’t you?”  C put some of the perfume on.  “Oh, it smells good.”

“It’s designed by Francois Guillermo.”  I said, hoping that would mean to her it was expensive, which it was, but she didn’t seem to pick up on that. “Maybe you won’t hurt me too much.”

“Oh, sweetie, it’s going to hurt.  I have to hurt you.  I’m sorry, but you did a naughty thing and if I didn’t give you a good spanking what would you think of me?”

I hung my head.  I knew she would spank me hard, but I had no idea what else she had in mind.

“Go back to the bedroom and get the new bath brush, the punishment book and the notes the sales clerks wrote you, and then come back in here and go stand in the corner.  I think you need about fifteen minutes of corner time to think about how naughty you are, don’t you?”

“Yes C,” I said humbly.

“Well, run along.  Let’s get this thing started.”

I retrieved the hairbrush, the naughty book and the notes, and returned to the corner.  I hadn’t been in the corner five minutes when there was a knock at the door.  Oh my god, I thought.  It is probably the maid.  Surely C will send her away.  I thought the “Do Not Disturb” sign was on the door.

C opened the door.  “Am I on time?” a bright, cheery voice said.  It was C’s cousin Rosalynn.

“Right on time,” said C. “Come on in.”

Oh no, this couldn’t be happening I thought.  What is C thinking?  I thought about running back to the bedroom, but I just froze hoping to disappear into the corner.

“Oh, there’s our naughty boy,” said Rosalynn.  “What cute pink boy shorts he has on.  Well, I guess, after all, he is a naught boy, zzzzzzzzz.” 

Rosalynn would always make that little buzzing sound when she thought she was being clever.  I was tired of that joke, and I was humiliated.  But, I couldn’t bring myself to call a stop to all of this.

“I brought the things you asked for, C”

“Oh, good,” said C. “We can go in the kitchen and get it ready.”

Get what ready, I thought.  I don’t like the sound of this.

The girls were in the kitchen about fifteen minutes chatting and giggling and getting up to god knows what.

“This is very interesting,” I heard Rosalynn say. “Where did you ever learn about this?”

“I saw it on the web.  Throck was reading about it on one of the blogs he reads and it came up on the history file when I was looking for something else.  Thought it had something to do with cooking at first, and I read it.  He usually deletes the history file so I won’t know what he’s been up to, but he got sloppy this time.  I think he may live to regret it,” both girls giggled.

I heard C and Rosalynn leave the kitchen and go into the bedroom.  They closed the door and I could hear muffled conversation, probably C giving Rosalynn details of the protocol.  I was very nervous; I knew it was not the protocol I was used to. Usually I would simply kneel in front of C while she went through the punishment book and pronounced my sentence.  I was sure there was more in store for me this time. My legs were trembling. 

Soon I heard the door open.  “Throck, bring your things and come into the bedroom,” C said with a no nonsense tone.

I went to the bedroom.  It was a large bedroom with a king-sized bed, a desk, several chairs and a love seat.  C was sitting on the side of the bed with her back to me, and facing Rosalynn, who was seated on the love seat by the window.  Rosalynn was wearing a short, tight white skirt that showed off her very attractive and shapely legs, and a pink tank top that revealed substantial cleavage.  These were very attractive, if mature, women that were about to abuse me.  I had to parade in front of Rosalynn to go around the end of the bed to face C.  My embarrassment was absolute and I blushed over my entire body.  Rosalyn had a big grin on her face.  She was obviously enjoying my predicament.  I, on the other hand could barely fathom what was making me submit to this humiliation.  Did I have some perverse need?  My emotions were total humiliation and yet excitement; I had an erection.  My mind was swirling.  I couldn’t understand how I was even moving.

I knelt in front of C and presented her with the punishment book, bath brush and notes, and waited for my sentence.  I could feel Rosalynn’s eyes on my boy shorts pantied bottom.  I waited with trepidation as C leafed through the punishment book and read the notes.

“Spank your naughty husband hard with this brush, PLR. Was the clerk upset with you, Throck?”  C said when she read the note.

“No,” I said.  “She got rather excited when I told her about the brush and asked for a note.  I almost think she had an orgasm, right there in the store.”

“How naughty of you,” said C.

Uh oh, I thought.  Shouldn’t have said that.

“Perhaps you should have written that in your naughty book.  I asked you to buy a brush, not to give young girls orgasms.”

“She wasn’t young,” I protested.  I could hear Rosalynn suppress a giggle.  C just gave me a stern look.

“Well your basic spanking is ten strokes.  You will get five more for masturbating.  You forgot to write in the book that you squirted your nasty boy juice all over me.  For that you will get and additional five strokes.  Furthermore, you will be figged for this spanking,” C leaned over to the bedside table an picked up a spade shaped plug of ginger about four inches long, and held it up to show me. I had been so distressed; I hadn’t even noticed it there.

Figged, I thought.  That’s what they were doing in the kitchen, carving a ginger fig.  I had been reading about figging on a site on the web last week and C had found me out.

“You certainly must know what figging is,” said C.  “After all, I found out about it on a naughty site you had apparently been reading.”

“Oh,” I groaned. How could I be so stupid?

“And, finally you will receive an additional five strokes for surfing the naughty sites without my knowledge or permission.  I think you forgot to write that in your naughty book as well.  I think that makes twenty-five in all.”

“I’m sorry C,” I said hanging my head.

“Yes, I’m sure you are, and I’m sure you will be.  Now, I want you to stand up and turn around and face Rosalynn, and apologize to her for your naughtiness, and for her having to witness this spectacle.”

“Oh please, C.”

“Come on. Stand up.  Be quick about it.”

I stood up slowly and turned around and faced Rosalynn.  My mortification was nearly complete, or so I thought.  As I tried to find the words for my apology, C slowly lowered my panties to my knees.

“Oh my god, C.  He has an erection!”  Rosalynn exclaimed.

“Yes he does,” said C.  “And for being so rude, I think we will have to add an additional five strokes.”

“That’s not fair, C. You made me take a pill,” I whined.

“Do you want to argue about it?” C said firmly.

“No,” I replied sheepishly.  I was completely beaten and was going to be literally so.

“Well, let’s hear that apology.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been bad and that you have to witness my punishment, Rosalynn.”

“I’m sorry too, Throck,” said Rosalynn, trying to give me a look of pity. “But this is for your own good, and I’m sure you will feel better about it after it’s over.”  I knew that inside she was grinning from ear to ear, and couldn’t wait to get home and tell Ken about this.  How would I ever face Ken again?

“Okay, Throck.  Turn around and get over my knee.  We don’t want to delay this any longer than we have to.”

I turned around.  C had unbuttoned several of the buttons of her skirt exposing the stockinged top of her left thigh.  I draped myself over her leg supporting my upper body on the bed.  She bent my erection down so it pressed against the inside of her thigh.  Won’t have that long, I thought, but it felt erotic, rubbing against her stocking.  C locked her right leg over my legs to secure me in place and prevent kicking once the spanking started.  One or all of us has got to be sick, I thought.  It seemed everyone was getting some sort of pleasure out of this, even me, although I knew mine would soon be coming to an end.

“All right, Throck, I’m going to insert the fig now.  This is going to be a little uncomfortable I’m afraid.  As you know, I can’t lubricate the ginger because it won’t work then.  You are going to have to try your best to relax so I can get this in.  Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I groaned.

“Okay, reach back and spread your cheeks for me, or do you prefer Rosalynn to do that?”

“Nooo,” I reached back and spread my cheeks as instructed.

“Aw,” I heard Rosalynn say.

“Okay, take a few deep breaths and try to relax.  Here we go.”

I felt the tip of the ginger plug against my anus as C slowly began to try to work it into my rectum with a twisting motion.

It immediately started to burn.  “Oh, it hurts, it burns,” I said and started to squirm.  I let go of my cheeks.

“Quit wiggling, and relax and take this, Throck.  If you can’t hold your cheeks apart Rosalynn is here to help.”

“Nooo,” I cried.  I reached back and spread my cheeks again and tried to concentrate.  Oh, it burned.  Millimeter by millimeter C worked the plug into my rectum.  It seemed that it took forever.  Finally the fattest part of the plug passed my sphincter and I felt the muscle contract and squeeze the rest of the plug into my rectum until it was blocked by the spade-like flare at the very end. 

“There, it’s in,” said C.  “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

My anus felt like it was on fire and my sphincter and buttocks were experiencing alternating spasms.

C picked up the bath brush and began to rub is on my cheeks.

“All right, Throck, it’s time.  I want you to look at Rosalynn.  I want her to see your shame.  Open your eyes. Look her in the eye and not up her dress.”

I opened my eyes and looked at Rosalynn who was staring at me with a wry smile.  The shame was intense but in some way exciting.  I wanted to sneak a peak up her dress, but didn’t dare.  I tried to keep my eyes locked on hers.  It was difficult and humiliating.

C was making little circles on my buttocks with the brush. “Your sentence is thirty strokes with the brush.  What do you say?”

“I’m sorry for being naughty, C.  May I please have my spanking now?”

“Yes you may.”

I felt the brush lift off my bottom.  My bottom was burning and twitching from the fig.

Wwaaap.  The first blow struck my right cheek.

“Yeeoow!” I screamed, closing my eyes, and losing eye contact with Rosalynn.

Wwaaap! Wwaaap! Wwaaap!  Three more fell on alternate cheeks.  I screamed and my upper body began to buck.  C was not much for warm ups, or just didn’t know about them.  Got to educate her I thought.

Wwaaap, “Yeeoow!”   Wwaaap, “Yeeoow!”   Wwaaap, “Yeeoow!”

My bottom was on fire.  I didn’t even feel the fig anymore. My whole bottom burned.  My erection was long gone.  I tried to regain eye contact with Rosalynn.  Her expression had changed from a wry smile to, I thought, a mild look of concern.

Wwaaap, Wwaaap, Wwaaap, Wwaaap, Wwaaap, Wwaaap, Wwaaap, Wwaaap.  I was yelling and writhing in pain.  My bottom was bouncing up and down and my legs were struggling against C’s lock. C paused.

“You must stop wiggling, Throck.  We’re only half way through.”

“I can’t take it, C.  It hurts so.  Please stop”

“You must take it, and you will.  Now compose yourself, stop wiggling and look at Rosalynn.”  Even though I complained bitterly, C had a good feel for my limits and was always willing to push them a little.  I could trust her not to kill me, but she would make sure I got my needed dose of pain.  Rosalynn didn’t know this, however, and now had a real look of concern on her face.

“His bottom is awfully red, C”

“Oh, it’s just a little pink.  It will be a much nicer shade when I’m finished.”  I felt the brush lifted from my bottom again.

Wwaaap, Wwaaap, Wwaaap, Wwaaap, Wwaaap, Wwaaap, Wwaaap, Wwaaap.  I screamed; I writhed.  I broke into a sweat and buried my face in the bed.  I could no longer look at Rosalynn.

Wwaaap, Wwaaap, Wwaaap, Wwaaap, Wwaaap, Wwaaap, Wwaaap. The blows fell hard and fast on alternate cheeks. Screaming, I clawed at the bedspread trying to escape but C had me firmly locked in place with her right leg and her hand pressed against my back.  Then suddenly it stopped.

“It’s over now, Throck.  Get up,” C said softly.

I slid off C’s lap to the floor and then kneeled up and hugged her and she held my head against her breast.  Then I realized I was sobbing.  I had never cried during or after a spanking.  This time, however, the emotional acrobatics C had put me through had really done a number on my mind.  The sobbing was cathartic.  C held me close to her and I wanted to melt into her.  I could feel her love flowing into me.  This was a bonding rush, big time.  C held me for a long time until I regained my composure.

“All right, Throck, it’s all over now, but you still have some corner time to do.  Hop up and get back to the corner.  You can leave your panties down so we can see that pretty red bottom and we’ll leave the fig in as well.”

I slowly rose and hobbled back to the corner, panties around my knees.  I hardly noticed the fig, my bottom was still tingling.

“Rosalynn and I are going down to the restaurant to have lunch.  I’ll bring something back for you, but I expect you to be good, and not leave that corner unless there is a fire alarm.  Do you understand?”

“Yes C,” I said meekly.

“Good.  We’ll see you in a little while.”

With that Rosalynn and C left the suite and closed the door behind them.  Unbeknownst to me, C took the “Do Not Disturb” sign off the door and replaced it with the “Please Make Up The Room” sign.  I heard C and Rosalynn giggling as they walked down the hall.


“Throck, wake up!  The wedding is at three and I have to be at the mall in an hour to get my hair fixed.”

Artwork: Barbara O'Toole

Monday, October 5, 2009

A Spanking Fantasy Part I

I have decided to try my hand at writing some spanking fiction.  I attended an out-of-town wedding recently and this fantasy developed as a result.  The story has become rather long and is not finished yet, and since I have not posted in a while, I have decided to split it into two parts and post the first part today.  Now, writing is really not my forte, but I hope this is fun.  Here it is:

A Fantasy 
The rehearsal dinner was a fine affair, with more beautiful women than my libido could handle.  What is it about weddings that bring out the inner beauty every woman seems to possess?  By the time C and I returned to the hotel, I was in an exceedingly amorous state.

Cuddling with C in bed I said, “Do you want to make love?”

“I think it is almost midnight and I have to get up early in the morning.  Why don’t you rub my back?”

As I rubbed her back, I thought for a few moments, “Would you rub me and help me have an orgasm?”

“You want to masturbate?  What are our rules on masturbation?” C said as if talking to a fourth grader.

I sighed, “I have to write in my ‘Naughty Book’ that I masturbated, and I will get a spanking,” I said, feeling like a fourth grader.

“Well, is your orgasm worth a spanking?” she said softly

I thought about it for a while.  If I waited until C was asleep I could have my orgasm without getting a spanking.  However, if I woke her up while “jiggling,” as C called it, I would get double the infraction strokes added to my base spanking  which consisted of ten strokes.  I should have booked a room with two beds instead of this king size bed we were in. Oh well, she always seems to know when I have an unauthorized orgasm anyway.

“I guess it is,” I said.

“Okay,” said C, and turned over and began to rub me.  C rubbed my nipples while I did the hand work.  Her nipple rubbing always brings me to rapid orgasm.  Curiously, I fantasized about my upcoming spanking at C’s hand rather than the women at the rehearsal dinner.  C made me have a mind blowing orgasm in under a minute.

“Oh, Throck!  You got your nasty boy juice all over my arm.  Get up and get me a towel.”

 I got up and got her a towel and came back to bed.  As I cuddled with her, I drifted off into a deep, deep sleep.

“Throck, wake up!”

“I have an appointment at the mall to have my hair cut this morning, and you have some errands to run.  Also, I want to go down and have breakfast before we go.”

“I don’t have any errands to run.  I got my tux yesterday,” I said, turning over and hoping to go back to sleep.

“Throck, I think you have to write in your Naughty Book, don’t you? And, I have some things for you to get at the mall.  Go on and get up.  We’ll discuss it at breakfast.”

I groaned, and sat up on the side of the bed.  “Did you really bring the Naughty Book?” I asked.

“Yes dear,” C called from the bathroom.  “I thought you might get into mischief.  You usually do at weddings.  It’s in my suitcase.”

I got dressed and rummaged through her suitcase and found the Naughty Book at the bottom.  What I didn’t find was the spanking hairbrush.  I hadn’t brought it, so either I would get a fifteen stroke hand spanking (no problem I thought), or the spanking would wait until we got home.

I dutifully wrote in my punishment book:

9/25/09   Masturbated with permission.   5 strokes.

C was dressed and finished with her makeup, so we went downstairs to breakfast.

“Throck, I will be a few hours getting my hair fixed and I have some things for you to do at the mall,” C said while basting a croissant with marmalade.  “If I left you here you would probably just masturbate again.  You know what they say about idle hands.”

She was probably right, but I really didn’t want to run her errands at the mall.  I hate malls and she was probably going to have me buy her some tampons or something.  Little did I know?

“You probably noticed when you were looking for the Naughty Book that I didn’t bring a spanking implement.” said C.  “I assume you didn’t bring one, did you?”

“Yes, I noticed, and no, I didn’t bring one.”

“Well then,” said C, “that’s your first errand, to buy a good hairbrush or bath brush.  I assume you know what’s required.  I believe there is a bath store in the mall.”

Yes, I knew what was required, I thought.  Oh well, at least I wasn’t assigned to buy tampons.

“There is another issue,” said C.  “I don’t suppose you brought any punishment panties with you, did you?”

Oh no. Surely she wasn’t going to make me buy punishment panties.  “C, please don’t.  You know that I always order those online.”

“Well, this will be a new experience for you,” she said.  “I want you to go into one of the department stores and buy some cotton panties with a cute print.  You know, like teddy bears, that little girls would wear, and then also get a lacy pair of boy shorts like big girls would wear.  You can wear the teddy bears under your tux today to remind you of what is to come.  And, if you get too frisky with the bridesmaids at the reception, I just might tell them what you have on.  The boy shorts you can wear as punishment panties tomorrow, or maybe we’ll reverse it and have you wear the boy shorts under your tux and the little girl teddy bears for your spanking.  What do you think?”

“I can’t do that C.  Besides, what are boy shorts?”

“Just ask the clerk.  I’m sure she will be glad to help.  And you will do it, because if you don’t, I will double your strokes.”  C was enjoying my fear.  I was already blushing.

The waitress noticed and came over to the table.  “Is there any thing wrong, sir?”

“Ah, no; thanks.  It’s, uh, just one of my medications, it causes me to flush.  You know, like a hot flash.”

“Oh,” she looked at me with concern. “Would you like some water?”

“No, I’m fine, thanks.”


C was grinning like the proverbial Cheshire cat.  “Like a hot flash?  More like a bottom burn, isn’t it?”

“Oh and there is one more requirement for buying your punishment panties and brush.”

“I don’t think I want to know,” I said.

“You will have to tell both clerks that help you that the items will be used in the spanking you are to receive from me tomorrow.  And, because I don’t quite trust you to do that, you will have to get them to write a note on the back of the receipt indicating they know about your impending spanking.  You know, something like ‘Your husband told me he is to be spanked in these panties, or with this brush.’  You had better get some cash.  I’m sure you don’t want to use your American Express card for these purchases.”

I was speechless.  I could feel the heat in my face and the waitress was looking over at the table again. I thought I might faint.

I took a sip of orange juice and recovered a bit.

“C, please!” was all I could say.  She was really going to make me pay a price for that orgasm.

“Don’t worry sweetie.  We’re from out of town, and you will never see any of these people again.”

“I’ll be arrested as a pervert if I go into the store and buy teddy bear panties and tell the clerk that I’m to be spanked in them!”

“Oh, nonsense,” said C.  “Now let’s go.  My appointment is in fifteen minutes.”

We drove to the mall and I followed C into the mall and to the door of the hair salon, all the time feeling like I was walking to an execution.

“Throck, I want you to be back here at 11:30, okay?”

“Please don’t make me do this,” I said.  I could feel my legs trembling.

“You don’t have to do it, Throck, but I’ll double the strokes for each task you don’t accomplish.  That will be a lot of strokes, so I think you should try your best for me, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Well, run along then.  It won’t be that bad.” 

C patted me on the bottom and turned and went into the hair salon.

Years ago I had asked C to spank me for little things that either annoyed her or seemed somehow “naughty.”  After many years of marriage, I wanted to give her more control and somehow demonstrate more submission to her.  I’m not exactly sure why, but I just on occasion wanted to be treated like a naughty little boy and spanked by C.

C was vanilla in the extreme, and was slow to warm up to spanking me.  However, with time, and a lot of coaxing from me, she gradually began to spank me more frequently.  We developed a spanking ritual that usually involved “punishment panties,” corner time and, of course, spanking.  The ritual was mostly my creation and it is not really clear to me  why I decided on the particular protocol, especially the punishment panties.  The ritual, however, added some excitement to my spankings and gave them some structure.  The punishment book came later, as a way to remind C that I needed a spanking.  I could either write in it myself, or at her direction.  She could review it at any time and give me a spanking.  We had worked out a number of strokes for each transgression and C was at liberty to specify a punishment for things that weren’t specifically listed in the infraction section.  The book added an element of anticipation to my spankings and helped increase their frequency.

This experience, however, was a whole new turn of events, and one that I couldn’t quite get my head around.  C had really upped the ante here.  Was she doing this to discourage my spanking fetish or had she suddenly gotten into it in a big way?  I began to wonder if I should have encouraged her so much to take control.  At the time I craved her control.  Now I was scared.  Could I do this?  I didn’t know. If I succeeded in carrying out her assigned tasks it might open up a whole new aspect of our relationship.  If I failed it might be of no consequence, but it might destroy a spanking relationship that I had cultivated for a long time.  I felt like this was a critical moment.  I felt like something would change as a result of my success or failure, but what.  Was C testing me, and what was her purpose?  I wandered through the mall for about thirty minutes trying to figure out what to do, and realizing all the while that my time was growing short. 

I walked past a lingerie store and glanced in the shop.  I wondered if it would be easier to buy the panties there, or in a department store.  The staff looked very young.  Would they be more open to this little game C was playing with me?

I walked on to the end of the mall where there was a large department store.  I went in past the cosmetics and perfume counter.

“Would you like to test our latest fragrance?” a voice interrupted my thoughts.

I turned and faced an attractive young girl. “It’s called ‘Spank Me’,” she said.

“You’re kidding.”

“No.  It’s very nice,” she said as she sprayed the perfume on a paper strip.  “You’re wife would just love it.”

She waved the paper under my nose.  It did smell nice, like gardenias with a hint of some erotic spice.  It was sexy; I liked it.

“Is this what you are supposed to wear when you get spanked?” I said.

“What?” she gave a queer look.

“Oh, I think I’ll pass thanks.  Can you tell me where I can buy pant…, uh, where the lingerie department is?”

“It’s on the second floor, but if you’re going up there to buy your wife a gift, don’t buy her one of those little tacky teddies.  If you want to get her something nice, buy her this perfume.  We women all know that when you buy that tacky sexy stuff it’s really for you, not for us.”

“Well, if I give her that perfume she might spank me,” I chuckled. 

“You would probably deserve it,” she giggled.

I looked at my watch.  I was running out of time.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll take it.”

“Good decision!  Would you like it gift wrapped?”


“What’s the occasion, anniversary, birthday?”

“No,” I said.

“Oh, I bet it’s the first time you made love then.”

What a cheeky kid.  “No, I just get her things from time to time.”

“That’s nice.  Well, here you are,” she said holding up the gold package with a pretty red bow.  “That will be ninety dollars.”

“Ninety dollars!”

“Well, this perfume is designed by Francois Guillermo, after all,” she said with an air of exasperation.

“Okay, okay.”   Who the hell is Francois Guillermo, I thought.

“Now where is lingerie?” I said.

“Up the escalator and to the right,” replied the clerk. “But no tacky teddies!”

“I’m buying panties for myself.  My wife is going to spank me in them,” I said, shaking the perfume box at her.

The clerk just rolled her eyes and waved me off.  “Have fun,” she said.  “No teddies.”

Looking at my watch I hurried up the escalator.  I had a little less than an hour left.  The cute perfume clerk had relaxed me a little, but I still had butterflies.  I was going to have to make short work of the panty buying.

As I walked into the lingerie department I scanned it for what might be a sympathetic clerk.  I saw no one.  I dawdled in the nightgown section for a minute and inched toward the panties.  My anxiety was growing.  What was I going to do?  I didn’t even know what “boy shorts” were.  Maybe they were like boxers.  Why would she want me to buy boxers?

“May I help you with something, sir?”  I froze.

I turned slowly to face an attractive woman in her late thirties or early forties.  Not beautiful, but attractive and “put together,” so to speak.  I glanced at her left hand.  She was wearing a wedding and an engagement ring in a Tiffany setting.  I had hoped for a younger, unmarried clerk.  I thought such a person might be more open-minded.  I was out of time.  I had to go with what fate had dealt me.

“Uh, yes.  You see, uh, my wife is playing a little control game with me,” I said, blushing from head to toe.  “She has sent me in here to buy, uh, panties.  That is, she has sent me in here to buy panties, uh, uh…” I stuttered.  The clerk waited patiently.  “Well, she has sent me in here to buy panties for, uh, me,” I finally got it out.  I felt like I was perspiring.

The clerk gave me a sweet little smile.  “It’s quite all right, sir.  Lots of men come in here to buy panties for themselves.”

“They do?”

“Oh, yes indeed.  What did you, or your wife, have in mind?”

“I need some cotton panties with teddy bears,” I blurted out, feeling the heat of embarrassment rising through my body.

“What size?”

“I, uh, I don’t know.”

“What is your waist size?”

“Thirty-six,” I said.

“You probably need a size eleven, or maybe a twelve to give you a little more room, if you know what I mean,” she chuckled.  I blushed.  This was painful.

“Let’s see what we have over here,” she walked to a counter with packages of cotton panties and began rummaging through them. 

“I don’t think we have any teddy bears, but we do have these with a lollipop print in your size.  It’s a package of three.”

“That’s fine,” I said, wanting to make the quickest exit possible.

“Great.  Is there anything else you need?”

Oh, the indignity.  “Yes,” I whispered.  “I need a pair of ‘boy shorts.’”

“What,” said the clerk?

“Arrhmm, boy shorts” I said.  “I don’t know what they are.”

“Ah, boy shorts.  Well I suppose that makes sense.  After all, you are a boy,” she said with a little giggle.

She led me to another counter that contained lacy and gauzy underwear.  She held up a pair of pink gauzy underwear.  “I think these would work.  So, do you like these, or would you prefer another color?” she said.

“Those are fine,” I said, glancing at my watch.  I only had thirty minutes before I had to meet C and I still had to buy the brush.  I really wanted to be out of the lingerie department.

“Great,” she said. “Come over here and I’ll ring you up.”

The clerk rang up the panties and said, “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Well, I uh, well.  Well, I do have one favor to ask,” I said.

The clerk stood patiently looking at me.

“Well, I, uh, I’m so sorry to have to tell you this, but my wife is going to spank me in these panties,” I whispered.

“What” said the clerk?

Was this woman deaf?  I leaned closer.  “My wife is going to spank me in these panties, and she instructed me to tell you that, and get confirmation that I told you.  Could you write on the back of this receipt that I told you?”

The woman looked at me in disbelief for a few seconds that seemed like an eternity.

“You need a note?” she laughed.

“Yes.”  I wanted to crawl under the counter and curl up in the fetal position.

She took the receipt and wrote on the back: Your husband told me he is to be spanked in these panties.  KNP
“Will that do?” she said with a grin.

“Yes, thank you very much.  I’m so sorry to bother you with this.”

“No problem,” she said.  “Come back any time.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I hope there’s not another time.”  I turned and beat a hasty retreat out of the lingerie department.

Down the escalator and past the cosmetics counter.

“Did you get some nice panties,” called the perfume clerk with a giggle. “No teddies, I hope.”

I just smiled and waved and hurried down the mall.

The bath store was on the way back to the hair salon.  The brush would be an easier purchase, accept for the damn note.  The mall was getting crowded.  I hoped that there would not be too many people in the bath store.

Unfortunately five or six people were browsing the small store.  There appeared to be two clerks.  I had no trouble finding a bath brush.  It was constructed of some blond wood and about fourteen inches long with an oval brush and good flat surface on the back.  I imagined it would hurt a great deal when C used it on my bottom.  However, my immediate problem was to discreetly tell a clerk what the brush would be used for, and obtain a note from her.  I only had twenty minutes left.  I browsed in a corner of the store away from most of the other customers.  The clock kept ticking.  Finally a clerk approached me, an older woman in her forties.

“May I help you, sir?”

My stomach churned.  Why was I doing this? “Yes,” I said quietly.  “I want to buy this bath brush,” I said , holding up the brush.

“No problem.  I’ll be glad to check you out,” said the clerk.

“Well, there is a problem,” I whispered.  “I apologize for having to tell you this, but my wife is playing a little control game with me.  She is going to spank me with this brush and …”

“Your wife is going to spank you!” the clerk blurted out.  Several customers in the store turned our way.  God, I can’t believe it, I thought.

“Yes,” I whispered.  It seemed to me that the clerks breathing became slightly labored, maybe my imagination.  “And, my wife has ordered me to ask the clerk that sells me this brush to write a note on the receipt indicating that I have told her what it is for.”
I couldn’t believe I was spewing this out, but I was desperate for time.  If I got back late, C would use it as an excuse to double my strokes.

The clerk stood facing me with a dazed look.  Her breathing was definitely faster.  Her breasts were rising and falling in her white tank top.  I thought, she is going to call mall security at any moment.  I’ll be hauled away I thought.

The clerk closed her eyes briefly, and then let out a sigh.  “So you want a naughty-boy note?”

“I’m sorry.”

“You want me to write you a naughty-boy note to tell your wife you should be spanked with that bath brush?”

“Uh, yes please.”  God, this was weird.

“Come with me,” she commanded.

I followed her to the cash register and she rang up my purchase.  She wrote on the back of the receipt: Spank your naughty husband hard with this brush. PLR.  As she was writing, her breathing quickened and her face became flushed.  She closed her eyes and  let out an orgasmic sigh as she pushed the receipt across the counter to me.

I grabbed the receipt, “Thanks,” and dropped the bath brush into the bag with the panties and perfume.  I turned around and headed for the door.  Thank god that was over.  Three minutes to meet C.  I looked back and saw the clerk still coming off her mini-orgasm.  I thought, I should have offered her a fresh pair of my lollipop panties.  No time to go back now though.

I got to the hair salon right on time.  I walked in and asked the receptionist about my wife.

“She’s almost finished. You can go back if you like.”

I did. Big mistake.  The stylist was putting the finishing touches on C’s hair.

“Were you able to get everything,” said C.

“Yes,” I said meekly.

“Let’s see.”

“Here?” I said.

“Sure.  Let’s see the boy shorts you got”
“Here?” I repeated.

“Come on Throck; show me.”

I fumbled in the bag and pulled out the gauzy pink panty.

“Hold them up for me”

“C, please”

“Hold them up.”

I held the panty up for everyone to view.

“I think he bought the wrong size for you,” the hair stylist giggled.

“Oh, they’re not for me, they’re for him.”

“Really,” said the stylist.  A knowing grin spread across her face.

I could feel the heat of a blush rising in my face.  I had never suffered such indignity at C’s hand.  What had gotten into her?

The stylist removed the drape from C and we followed her to the receptionist desk.  C had granted me a little mercy by not making me show the lollipop panties, and by not telling everyone she was going to spank me in them.  C paid the bill and we left.  I was still blushing.

“Was that hard?” said C.

“It was awful,” I said.

“Well, it’s all over now.  All you have left is the spanking,” C said patting me on the bottom.  “Did you get the notes?”

“Yes,” I said sullenly.

“Well, let’s go have fun at the wedding.  I can’t decide which panties to make you wear under your tux.”

C finally decided to make me wear the cotton lollipop panties to the wedding, and she promised to tell Rosalynn, her cousin and mother of the groom, what I had on if I misbehaved with the bridesmaids.  I wasn’t sure what constituted misbehavior, but I tried to be very good at the wedding and the reception.

To be continued

Artist: SH from OTK_FMS Yahoo Group