Post Number: 22
|Posted on Sunday, April 30, 2006 - 08:04 pm: ||
*Note: This was written in August of 2003 as part of a writing exercise on another site.*
One of the nicest parts of taking really long road trips in the age of the internet is the chance to meet new old friends you've never met in real life. I smiled at the thought as I pulled into the little Connecticut town. Meeting Wolf should be fun, giving her the spanking she'd asked for -- well, that might or might not happen, but the prospect had kept me entertained for many a mile on the interstate.
Wolf had been too sensible to give her address to an internet stranger, but she'd given me the name of a convenient town, and at my urging, the name of its finest restaurant. We'd agreed to get together for dinner, no strings, just a meal and good company in a nice safe public place. I hadn't pressed for any more than that. "Softly softly catchy wolfie...."
So I grabbed a room in a nearly empty motel on the outskirts of town, showered off the grime of the road and put on some good clothes. As I stepped back out of my motel room, I did a quick survey of the cars. It looked like I was four units away from the next inhabited one. I grinned to myself. Noise was not going to be a problem, if that spanking happened to happen.
So there I was. The restaurant was one of those typical New England places catering to the autumn leaf watchers and wealthy antique hunters. Nice understated decor, expensive but tasty food, and widely separated tables in the little quiet nooks of a converted house at least a hundred years old.
And there was Wolf! She was there before me, and before I knew it we were at a table and chatting about the menu. I ordered drinks, we ordered food, and inside of three minutes we were laughing and giggling about the characters from Spanking Classics and the various hijinks from the board.
Of course, Wolf being Wolf, she wasted no time in making a little speech about how I was never going to get her over my lap. I just raised an eyebrow, and said "A bad girl like you? You have much to answer for." And then I changed the subject. Softly, softly, catchy wolfie.
From there the conversation ranged widely. We talked about parrots, we gossipped, we drank a
bottle of wine, we had a good meal and a grand time and we made lewd suggestions to each other about dessert. At some point Ross and his Cardhu came up during the desert conversation, and I made a point of mentioning that I had half a bottle in my motel room. "Would ze Wolf like to come have a taste?" I inquired with an exaggerated leer. "Und I haff ze most eenterezting etchings...."
She laughed, and made a disparaging remark about how I was just trying to set her up for a spanking that was never going to happen. But when we walked out of the restaurant, and I held open the door to my car, she got in. Softly, softly, catchy wolfie.
So back to the motel it was, and a drink of Cardhu for each of us was savored, and then I got serious. Sitting on one of the beds, I patted my lap and said "Well, Wolf, how about it? You and I still have an unsettled account. Remember that little episode with the trank gun?"
She laughed, and took a step toward the door. "You wouldn't dare, you young pup! There's no way I'm crawling over your lap voluntarily, and you're way too nice a guy to make me!"
There was a time when she would have been right. But I've learned some things over the years, even if they are the sort of things that aren't politically correct to say. And one thing I've learned is that she probably didn't meet me for the dinner, and she surely didn't come to my motel for a drink of Cardhu or to see my fictitious etchings. So, in my sternest voice, I said "You shot me in the ass with a general anesthetic and left me retching in the weeds with my hands tied behind my back. It's time to answer for that!"
She took another step toward the door, and laughed nervously. "That was all in good fun."
I lunged. Right up off the bed, and grabbed her, and before she knew it I was back on the edge of the bed and she was face down over my knee, kicking and yelling (quietly, I noticed with amusement) and expostulating. I'm sure it was something about letting her go and what a brute I am, but I wasn't paying attention. "All in good fun? Why, so is this!" And I hauled off and smacked her, hard, right in the middle of her struggling bottom.
It's traditional in a story like this for the heroine to shriek at this point, and Wolf is nothing if not a traditionalist. She gave a howl of outrage entirely out of proportion to the little smack she had just gotten, and began struggling and kicking and disparaging both my ancestry and my toiletry habits. I took the opportunity to skootch all the way up onto the bed, stretching her out comfortably over my now-extended lap. Although there was a lot of noise and motion from her hands and feet, she didn't really seem to be trying to get away very hard.
Whack whack whack! "Calm DOWN, Wolf, we need to have a talk." WHACK! I was spanking her with my open hand over her stylish slacks and whatever was underneath them, so it was really more noise than anything else.
She paused her protestations. "Good girl. Now, you're getting this spanking. You want it, you need it, and you know it."
"I'm afraid it's not quite that easy. I want you to tell me why you deserve it."
"Wolf, I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you."
"Uhm, because of that silly role-play with the trank gun?" She looked up at me disbelievingly.
"Well, that will do for starters. But there was also something about me being too chicken to spank you, hmmm?" And with that, I started spanking her very slowly, and very gently...but very steadily and inexorably.
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean it! It was all in good fun, you know it was!" I picked up the pace, spanking gently, but faster now.
"You didn't think you'd hurt my feelings, is that it?" Now I was spanking her as fast as my hand would move, still lightly, but landing dozens little swats all over her bottom and thighs in an unpredictable pattern. It can't possibly have hurt through the slacks, but it's possible she was getting a little warm.
"No! Of course not!"
I stopped spanking. "Well, you should have thought a little harder." I made my voice as low and stern as I know how. "Now, stand up and take off those foolish pants, and then get back over my lap!"
As she stood up, I grabbed her left wrist. "And don't even think about walking out of here instead."
She blushed. "I can't possibly take these pants off right here in front of you."
I kept my grip on her left arm. "Sure you can. Unless you want me to take them off for you. However, there will be extra if you make me do that."
She blushed some more, but her right hand went to the fastener. As I watched intently from my place on the bed just a foot or two away, she slid the pants down and off. Suddenly, as if to minimize my scrutiny, she flopped back down on the bed and squirmed back over my lap. "You big brute, I can't believe you made me do that."
I gave her two crisp swats, full force, one on each cheek, through her expensive-but-modest silk panties. WHACK! WHACK! "You might want to reconsider the idea of calling me names at this time. And besides, you're lucky you followed instructions, I would have used my belt on you if you made me wrestle those pants off."
She whimpered and squirmed. "And now, it's time to get down to business." I rubbed her bottom where I had just smacked her. "Are you ready?"
"No, I don't want a spanking you meanie."
Whack! Whack! Whack! "Seriously, you know you are getting your spanking, are you ready for it to start?"
There came a reluctant mumble which I took for a yes. "OK then." And I began to spank.
I started with the fast but very light swats I had used before, all over her bottom and thighs in an unpredictable pattern. However, through her thin panties these swats made a convincing "pop-pop-pop-pop-pop" noise and they must have had a sting, because she was squirming and protesting immediately. I kept it up, moving back and forth from one cheek to the other, dropping in for quick visits to the crack between her thights and bottom and even moving down onto her entirely bare thighs from time to time. pop-pop-pop-pop-pop! pop-pop-pop! pop-pop-pop-pop! She started churning her bottom, as if to move one cheek or the other out of harm's way, and her breathing became fast and irregular. This was so much fun I kept it up for quite awhile, until she started to complain. "No, Dan, that burns! Stoppit! Ow!" By now there was a pronounced pink blush visible everywhere that her panties did not cover.
"Stop? Does that mean you are ready for the main course?"
She turned her head and stared at me suspiciously. "Main course? Dan, you didn't bring your so-called toys, did you? NO WAY!"
I laughed. "I did bring them, and I'll use them if you give me a reason, or if you ask very nicely. But no. This light stuff is fun and all, but you get ten hard swats (and I do mean hard!) for calling me a chicken."
I reached for the waistband of her panties. As she felt my finger catch, she started saying "No! I apologize! I never meant it! Really!"
Paying this all the attention it deserved, I worked her panties down off her bottom. Not at all to my surprise, the blush was considerably more pronounced on the bits that had gotten the bulk of my attention. "My, what a pretty pink blush we have here!"
I put my hand firmly on her bottom. "I'm not kidding about this next bit, you are really going to feel this! I want you to remember this spanking the next time you decide to sass me on the board."
Hearing no objection, I brought my hand back and swung it down fiercely across her bottom. Having big hands, it made both moons ripple nicely. THWAACK!
Now she started objecting. "OW! OWWWWW!" The second objection came as the burn started to spread. I felt a little guilty for swatting her harder than planned, but if nothing else I now had her
fullest attention. A big red handprint was now fully visible on her bottom, and I pinched lightly with my thumb and forefinger around the perimeter of it. With just the tips of my fingers, I rubbed all the way around the outline of my handprint. By now she was calm again.
Thwaack! Much gentler now, but right on top of the last imprint. This one got a squeal.
THWAACK! THWAACK! These were harder, though not so hard as the first hard smack, but the first was high on her bottom and the second down low, right above the crease of her thighs. She jumped vigorously and resumed her protests. I began rubbing her whole bottom with a firm pressure in broad sweeping strokes. The handprint in the middle was obviously tender, because she squirmed again whenever my hand would brush over it.
Four in a row this time, brisk and fast. Each swat got a reaction, a rapid fire "ow ow ow ow!" By now the original handprint was starting to vanish, as Wolf's whole bottom began to turn a vivid red. My hands are large and heavy, and these were not gentle swats by any measure.
This time, I massaged her cheeks like a masseuse, with heavy pressure and firm strokes radiating out from the centers. By now she was so tender that my attentions made her whimper, just a tiny bit, as I rubbed and pressed and kneaded her bottom. I kept it up a long time, until she started to relax and squirm under my hand.
"Two more, just two more like this. You ready?"
Hearing no answer, I just waited. After about ten long seconds "Yes....."
"OK, these are going to be good ones."
THWAACK! I cheated a little, made this more like the first strong one than any of the rest had been. And again: THWAACK!
She jumped each time, and then lay over my lap, rocking her bare bottom from side to side as she felt the sting spread. I watched with considerable enjoyment for a moment, and then with both hands began rubbing and stroking her. She lay quietly, making little noises but not sounding at all unhappy.
I rolled her off my lap and slid down beside her, so we were laying side by side on the bed. Wrapping one arm around her, I reached with the other and felt with my fingertips for welts. None were immediately evident, but the feel of her hot bottom was so nice I kept pretending to look for them.
"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?"
"Bad enough" she said with a grumbling tone. But she was smiling.
"Do you still think I am too chicken to spank you?"
"Good, I'm glad. Now give me a hug to show me there are no hard feelings."
Her hug was firm and convincing. I returned it, in no hurry whatsoever to let her go.
Post Number: 768
|Posted on Sunday, April 30, 2006 - 08:12 pm: ||
I wanted this posted because we're trying to get some spanking stories submitted for Wolfie's Birthday Spanking Contest and I thought this was a good example of the type of spanking she enjoys. This was written as part of a writing exercise where Dan was paired up with Wolfie. The goal was to craft a spanking for someone after hearing their spanking likes and dislikes.
I always thought Dan did an awesome job with this story because it was perfect for our Wolfie. I wanted him to share it to give those who'd like to write a birthday spanking story for Wolfie so they'd have an idea of what she likes. "Softly, softly, catchy wolfie..."
Post Number: 5
|Posted on Wednesday, May 03, 2006 - 10:47 am: ||
Wonderful story Dan.You,ve created a fantasy for me that I swear I,ll repeat as soon as I can.