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.
“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.”
“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.”
“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.
“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?”
“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.
“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”
“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