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: First line
This story's setting is late October of 1980 at Brittany Sinclair's residence, somewhere in the United States of America.
Writing Process
By
The Crimson Kid <CrimsnKid6@aol.com>
"I don't know why I'm writing this..." Breaking concentration on the topic, I regarded Brittany plaintively.
"Because you might avoid an intensive panties-down butt-blistering," she explained. "Isn't that reason enough?" I snorted. "Your haven't already decided?" "Certainly," she admitted, "But maybe you'll change my mind, sweetheart." "Damned unlikely," I muttered.
Brittany chuckled. "True, Paul, but you've got nothing to lose--and you're good with written words, claiming such a logical, analytical mind. Do you really believe that your behavior at Miriam's party was acceptable?" "Well...from a certain perspective." I avoided her penetrating gaze. "Then explain that perspective," she instructed. "The ball's in your court, and your ass is on the line--rather literally. In twenty minutes, I'll either accept your explanation or seriously paddle your bare behind...So you'd better warm to the challenge, or I'll be doing some extended warming of my own. Until then..."
She exited into her bedroom, and my focus returned to the title she'd supplied: "WHY I SHOULDN'T BE SPANKED."
It was a difficult topic to handle, given the slightly-intoxicated, suggestive flirting and bum-pinching I'd engaged in the previous evening, but I nonetheless began writing. My thoughts generally coalesced clearly as I composed them on paper, and I focused on successfully clarifying the teasingly-harmless nature of my conduct. The problem was that my sweet, caring, lovely girlfriend rarely changed her mind, and I'd conceded her the authority to spank me soundly at her discretion--her obvious immediate intention. My one hope was based on Brittany's innate fairness, that she'd never administer an undeserved bare-bottom punishment.
The words crawled across the paper, slowly at first, as I defended my behavior...
I'd had a couple more drinks than I usually did...(But who forced me to?) Well, those two girls had been playing along, not minding at all...(So did that excuse my erotically-oriented comments, with my loving girlfriend nearby?) They'd giggled at my attentions to their derrieres...(Bad thought--I could almost hear Brittany's rejoinder, hefting her paddle, "Speaking of attentions to derrieres...") I hadn't intended to hurt Brittany's feelings...(How had I expected her to react?) She'd overreacted to some playful flirting...(Was she taking our relationship seriously?) But didn't I have freedom of action in my own life? (Freedom brought responsibility, and consequences for misjudgement--and Brittany was part of my life.) Then did I have any choices left? (Keeping my beautiful ladylove or having a cool, comfortable, clothing-covered posterior--but not both for long.)
Lucidity struck suddenly, followed by many scratch-outs and rapid scribbling as I finally realized the only divergently-convincing argument that I could make. The words fell into place as my mental processes produced the awareness that often accompanied my efforts at composition, and I completed the last sentence as Brittany strode over to me. After making the ultimate critical cross-out, I exhaled softly. "Finished, sweetie? Let's read your persuasive essay now..." Brittany picked up the paper and carefully read it in silence; I watched her face, gratefully marveling at the fact she was my girlfriend.
"Absolutely overpowering reasoning," she announced, setting it back on the desk. "I figured that you'd rise to the occasion once you started, Paul--writing seems to heighten your deep-down understanding, doesn't it?" I gulped. "I suppose so, Brittie." "There's no supposing about it, sweetheart." Brittany smiled affectionately. "I accept your argument 100%, of course." "Thank you." I stood and faced her, and she kissed my lips lingeringly.
"Into the bedroom, then." She motioned me forward. "While you were working on 'why,' I decided on 'how'--hairbrush, belt and wooden yardstick. It's going to be very intense, naturally." "I know." I smiled ruefully. "It's deserved, though." Brittany reached toward the desk. "Get your pants and briefs at half-mast, while I save this for posterity."
As I walked into her bedroom, she picked up the paper and beamed at its slightly-altered title: "WHY I SHOULD BE SPANKED."
The End
© Copyright Summer, 2001
Reviews
LAR <lds627(at)home(dot)com>
I honestly loved this one, everything one can want in a short story. Very satisfactory
Haron <aster(at)mail(dot)i(dot)com(dot)ua>
This story is a great argument against an old cliché of «men are senseless». This man might have been careless with his wife's feelings before, but he is certainly brave and conscientious enough to own up to his mistakes. Makes one almost wish he could be spared the spanking, well-deserved as it might be. It's really heart-warming that men like this exist, if only in Crimson Kid's fiction.