This short story is an entry in the 2003 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
Red, White and Blew
By
I woke up in a foul mood on the Fourth. I'm as patriotic as the next person, but it had been a rough couple of weeks at work, culminating with the beginning of the fiscal year, and I really wasn't in the frame of mind to entertain the in-laws. But my husband insisted. We've always hosted a big Fourth of July bash, but this year, I wanted nothing more than to relax on the chaise lounge by the pool, sipping a nice, big Malibu Bay Breeze and reading a book. Chinese takeout would have suited me just fine.
But here I was, up at 7 a.m. on a holiday for Pete's sake, marinating chicken breasts and ribs in the kitchen before I even downed my first cup of coffee. Big mistake, as I need that coffee first thing, if anyone wants to engage me in civil conversation.
My husband was trying. He was trying hard. But I wasn't having it. I was complaining about how overworked I was and how his sister, the bitch, never invited us to her house, and why was I always the one who had to do the entertaining. (Of course, my husband was working just as hard as I was, but I refused to acknowledge that fact.)
I should mention that my husband is generally a very patient, loving man. But he has these rather old-fashioned notions of marital discipline that involve the laying of his big hand upon the cheeks of my bare behind from time to time. Not all that often, mind you. I really have to push the right buttons to make him snap.
Calling his sister a bitch didn't quite do it.
Remarking that I wasn't in the mood for a "fucking barbecue" did. He thinks using the "f" word is singularly unladylike and merits swift, severe punishment.
So right there in the kitchen, as the coffee brewed, he put me across his lap, lifted my nightie and lowered my panties, and spanked me until I was howling. I would have promised anything to get him to stop, so when he told me he wanted me to get on my knees and suck his stiff cock until he came in my mouth, I readily agreed. Swallowing his cum seemed a happy alternative to enduring more spanking.
I knelt on the floor between his splayed legs, bare red bottom framed by white cotton panties.
And I blew him.
The End
© Copyright MrsMish@aol.com, 02 July 2003
Reviews
Lori <peachesicu(at)aol(dot)com>
OK, this was just to funny! The last line just BLEW me away! I just feel so simpatico with this writer. «fucking barbecue» Oh My!! <eg> My fav. story so far. I'm a happy Fourth of July Camper. Red, white and blue will always get me picturing red, white and blew, now. Kudos to the author.
Kessily
What a sweet domestic spanking story this is! It was obvious to me that the wife needed the release of the spanking to get through a hectic morning or preparations! I bet it made her feel a hell of a lot better, and him as well. I have a certain sympathy for the woman, working her butt off, when the hostess rarely gets to enjoy the party much. But it also made me feel for the husband who tried so patiently to put up with her grouchiness even while he was working just as hard.
I was glad to see him get his own back by the end of the story. She really deserved what she got...and so did he.
Warm Hand Jack
This is remarkably well-written for what would be, in other hands, just an excuse to use a pun. It's a good story that has been very carefully crafted, with the writer putting a lot of effort into its development, believability, and consistency.
Here we have a rarity in spanking fiction, the true domestic discipline household: one in which there is no spanking play, punishment has a definite purpose (which is not mutual fun), and it's something the wife dislikes and tries very hard to avoid.
This setting, and the mood of that miserable morning, are shown very clearly. The characters are quite believable. (And likeable: hubby does his duty when necessary, but understands her feelings and does his share of the work.) The plot flows naturally, but not predictably; it's a telling proof of both their honest DD relationship and the writer's skill that (unlike a story that's written just to get to the spanking scene) the husband does not find justification either in her general rebelliousness or in her insult to his sister, but only, at last, in a specific offence that she knew very well was a spankable one.
At the end, the husband betrays a strong erotic response which is entirely one-sided and is out of character with pure DD. However, since that is essential to the finale, I'm content to believe that these people simply recognize it as an acceptable difference between them.
It's guessable from the title what the homophone of the third color refers to, and it's blunt enough when we get there. But the tie-in with that particular day's events is so neat, and the getting there is so well told, and her motivation is so credible, and the colors are so prettily arrayed at the end ... that we don't mind the unoriginal pun at all.
An excellent effort.