This short story is an entry in the 2001 Soc.Sexuality.Spanking Summer Short Story Contest and is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission. Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice. The author would appreciate your comments
Category: Adult
This story's setting is early August of 1995 in the United States of America.
Snarls
By
The Crimson Kid <CrimsnKid6@aol.com>
"Snarling at me again?" Barbara Royalton rhetorically demanded. "This time you won't get away with that." She was driving her Buick Regal at 75 miles per hour, looking beautiful to her passenger/husband Paul. "Honey, you're overreacting--"
"I'm reacting properly," she interrupted, "According to Miriam, sweetheart." "Muh-Miriam?" Paul was rattled at the mention of his cousin, who had been tutoring Barbara on The Wifely Art of Spousal Discipline. "We just discussed your snarling behavior yesterday," Barbara explained. "Miriam says it's a spanking offense--clearcut disrespect, in this case public disrespect." Paul gulped. "So we left the party...?" "To go home and get your buns reddened ASAP, darling." She grinned wickedly in anticipation. "Just be glad I'm not prepared to give you a bare-assed public paddling ...yet."
Erotic excitement flared up in his psyche, but that feeling was rapidly overwhelmed by apprehension. He was approaching a serious chastisement, which felt stimulating --but wouldn't once it was underway, he knew from experience. "It w-was just a duh-difference of oh-opinion..." "Hardly," she responded curtly. "You've just extended your fanny-whacking by lying, honeybun, when we both know otherwise--don't we?" "Yes, honey." Paul remembered that arguing invariably meant additional corporal punishment.
Barbara beamed, in a firm-but-feminine way, as she shared Miriam's counsel with her husband. "Snarling's treated as a disciplinary offense, sweetie, so I'll be very strict about your punishment. Since you're aroused by being spanked, I have to move you past enjoying your chastisement. That means little-boy treatment, proper positioning of your bare behind and blistering-hard walloping with maximum-sting implements. I'll plaster your disrespectful derriere until you deliver one SINCERE apology--in my opinion."
As she paused, Paul shuddered in realization that his wife might prove difficult to convince. "Miriam assured me that I'll know if you were truly apologetic, darling--so don't worry TOO much, anyway." She turned onto the exit from the expressway. "We'll be home momentarily, honeybun--I'll want you wearing your baby blue 'Doctor Dentons' in the bedroom corner while I select my implements..."
Ten minutes later Paul was upended over an upside-down reading pillow, his prone body forming an inverted V-shape on their king-sized bed. Attired as instructed, he felt Barbara's fingers unbutton and lower the seat flap to his toddler-style sleepers, exposing his highly-elevated muscular buttocks. Barbara faced him, lifting a half-inch-thick wooden Spencer paddle; Paul's naked buttcheeks trembled. "Let's get you to associate snarls with punishment paddlings," she announced--then she swung her paddle, swiftly and accurately...
She delivered thirty-six emphatic swats before giving him a chance to apologize--not sincerely enough, although she'd made him yelp loudly as his rump reddened. After twelve more cracking spanks Paul was given a second chance, but again Barbara was dissatisfied; she resumed whacking his bare backside with a passion, then paused after the sixtieth resounding smack. At that point his posterior was a deep crimson hue, he was wailing continuously and saltwater was accumulating in the corners of his blue eyes; his apology was broken and blubbery--music to his wife's ears. "ALMOST good enough, honey," she cooed encouragingly, "But I need to see flowing tears and hear childish crying from you--let's continue..."
Finally, after seventy-two sizzling paddleswats, Barbara was gratified to view Paul's tear-streaked face and hear open weeping; his apology was delivered in a humblingly submissive manner as his blazing buttocks quivered. "Pluh-Please, m-ma'am...My rear is stinging hah-hot! I'm suh-so sorry for snarling at you..."
Barbara set down the Spencer paddle. "I know you are, darling, and your apology is accepted as sincere." "Thuh-Thank you, ma'am," he acknowledged gratefully.
"Now, according to Miriam," she continued, picking up her Canadian school strap, "It's time to 'spank the lesson home,' so you'll associate your snarling with bare-bottomed blisterings."
Barbara grinned, taking aim at Paul's deeply-reddened outthrust asscheeks while raising her thick leather implement of corporal correction. "No more snarls, dear?" "Nuh-Never, ma'am," Paul agreed.
Of course, he was lying....
The End
© Copyright Summer, 2001
Reviews
Mary Catherine <marycatherine(at)saintfrancis-sfg(dot)net>
CrimsnKid's story made very good use of dialogue and painted strong visual images throughout. The story ran quite a bit over the 500 word limit, but it could be trimmed and tightened without losing the emotion between the characters IMO. Great last line!
Simon <srb(at)imrryr(dot)demon(dot)co(dot)uk>
A very enjoyable domestic story. I liked the dialogue here, the way the wife is constantly talking to her husband, encouraging and goading him. A good genre piece, if rather over the word limit.