Joining the Competition

I am trying something new over the next three weeks; a series of short parts to a single story based upon the current event. I have no idea where this is going (and if I did, I would be billionaire in 3 weeks 🙂 ).  I’m going to try posting about three times a week, updating the events experienced by the characters as they occur in real time. I hope you enjoy and that I can keep up.

April 12th, 6:02 pm

TICK Tock! The antique grandfather clocked counted out the minutes as she waited. The hardwood paneling accentuated the mechanical rhythm, refocusing her attention to the issue at hand. She had eagerly took the gamble but now, being on the losing end, she rethought her eagerness a month ago. Her foolish pride was going to cost her, and cost her dearly.

The hard wood paneling, the imposing oak desk, the high back chair, it all reminded her the headmistress’ office back at her prep school. Back then she had only ever been in the office for student government meetings. She was glad she never graced that office for a failing, though such experience would have helped her nerves right now. Or maybe knowing would have made it worst.

The creak of the large wooden door behind her startled into a stiff, upright posture. Her heart shifted to high, trying to beet its escape from her chest. “Time to meet my maker,” she mumbled to herself as the other woman strode confidently up to the desk.

—————————-

March 17th, 7:34pm

Jessie pondered her response to the email. It was a tempting offer, and one she believed she could handily win. Her alumni mater was a number one seed. She would do fine in the competition, it was the consequences and rewards which caused her pause. Nate and her had joined the society to add a little spice to their romance, but they hadn’t really participated beyond observing others. Nonetheless, the other women had accepted her as one of their own from the first meeting. She had quickly became comfortable talking about anything with them, even if she was too shy to do anything yet.

There was the other fact that no one but Nate had touched her. The couples competitions was completely out of the question, but the girl’s competition was a possibility. Nate wouldn’t have a problem with one of the women touching her on the rare chance that she lost. She actually was curious as to such a situation. The problem would be claiming her reward. She had never been on that end of the equation and was concerned if she could actually do it.

Jessie replied to the email saying she would participate before she could chicken out. The success of her bracket this year now had an extra stake, her bum.

Ivy returns to Walt and his princess

The story begins with Walt and his princess.

Ivy wandered the dormitory aimlessly while she attempted to absorb what she just witnessed. Her mind floated along in the same manner as her feet, first questions if it really was Jessie standing there, then if it was some kind of prank to more intimate questions whose obvious answers sent shivers down her spine. Insignificant of the question, or the implications presented by their possible answers, Ivy’s mind kept flashing back to the portrait of her room.

Like every wandering path, they always lead to an answer. Ivy’s happened to end at the door of her own room. Instinctively she started fishing through her pockets for her keys but on the second go around she realized they were sitting on the dresser, next to the door. In her haste to escape she had forgot her keys. Knocking was her only choice. It was definitely preferable to walking in on something like she did earlier.

Jessie took a quick peek through the peephole before slowly opening the door, hiding herself behind the door. Ivy entered hesitantly, unsure what she would find. Her mind had created some crazy ideas of what she would find, but none of it prepared her for reality. Walt and Jessie were dressed just like they had been previously, except Jessie’s shorts were in their correct location. Perfectly normal.

Everyone looked at each other in silence, waiting for someone to speak first. Walt believed it would be more appropriate for Jessie to start, though she couldn’t form the correct words in her head.

“I’m sorry I burst in before. I didn’t realize.” Ivy apologized suddenly.

“It’s OK.” Jessie mumbled. She flashed a quick glance down at Walt and he got the message loud and clear.

“I’m a little hungry. How would you ladies like a pizza?” Walt said, standing up from his seat on the futon.

“Ah, ok.” Ivy accepted politely. She was much more interested in the prospect of getting some alone time with Jessie than food, but college taught her never to refuse free food.

“Supreme, please?” Jessie asked, looking down and slightly rolling her shoulders in her best “I’m Your Princess” look. Walt gave her half smile, signally she was pushing it, but would get her way.

The last thing Walt heard as he closed the door behind himself was Ivy saying, “You get spanked!?”

Walt contemplating taking his truck across campus to the good local pizza joint, though the thought of finding a parking he could fit into dashed the idea. They would suffer with the chain place at the edge of campus. A block walk wouldn’t be too bad in the chilly Autumn air.

Walt knocked on Jessie and Ivy’s door about 30 minutes later, holding a cool large supreme pizza. Jessie opened the door a moment later, ushering him to the futon. He sat the box down on the small TV tray they had set up and each took a slice. The silence as they ate simply built upon the tense present since Walt had returned.

Ivy finally couldn’t take it any more and dropped her half-ate piece on the box. “I’m so sorry. It was all my fault. It was my fault, not Jessie’s. She shouldn’t have been sp..sp.. punished because of me. I was just lonely. And..and the party seemed like a good chance to meet someone and she didn’t want to go. She really didn’t. I convinced her. Then she didn’t want to drink, but I made her and she wanted to go home but I won’t. She was just being a good friend. It wasn’t her fault.”

Walt sat back and acted like a priest, allowing her to confess all her sins. He knew it would probably be the last saintly thing he did that evening. Jessie had explained everything to Walt while Ivy was wandering the dorm, but he wanted to hear it from the horse’s mouth. He wanted to make sure everyone was on the same page because things would turn sour quickly if either of the girls misunderstood his next actions.

“What do you propose?” Walt asked when Ivy stopped for more than a moment.

“Hmm…that I…hmmm…get…the same…” Ivy stammered.

Walt could see her attempt to skirt the issue by avoiding the magic word. “Which would be?”

Ivy played with the hem of her sweater just like Jessie did when she was in trouble. Walt had to take a deep breath to prevent a broad smile from spreading across his lips. He added a little angle to his eyebrows to increase the pressure on Ivy, and reinforce the seriousness of the situation she was attempting to place herself in.

“Ah…spaaannnking.” Ivy finally said, barely holding back the tears she could feel forming at the edges of her eyes.

“And what kind of spanking do you deserve?” Walt asked. Clarity was essential for the punishment to work, but was especially important due to the lack of any relationship between Walt and Ivy.

“Hu?” Ivy didn’t really understand the question.

“Jessie got it bare-bottom with the hairbrush. Do you believe you deserve a spanking exactly like the one Jessie received?”

“Yes…” Ivy eked out.

Walt stood up and gave one last look at Jessie before continuing. His princess stood in nearly the same spot where she had been an hour earlier when Ivy walked in, albeit facing the room rather than the wall. Her left thumb was firmly pressed against her lips as she attempt to avoid chewing on her nails. A quick little nod sent Walt attention back to her roommate.

“OK, bend over your desk with your forearms flat on the desk.”

Ivy kept her head down as she looked sideways at Jessie then back to Walt. She knew she was the perpetuator of this situation and retreating at this point scared her more than continuing.

She sulked over to her desk and bent over as was requested.

Walt scooped up the hairbrush off Jessie’s desk before getting into position behind Ivy. “Jessie got 18, 42 then 25 swats. She knew better than to slack off and since this is your first time, I am going to half the number for you, this time.”

Jessie didn’t miss the sigh of relief from the bent girl. She wished Walt would have let her off that easy. From his previous comments, she was a little worried he might bend her over again once he completed with Ivy.

“Naughty girls don’t get to keep their panties up.” Walt leaned forward slightly, hooking his index fingers under her waistband. After a pause he slowly pulled them down until her yoga pants and panties were at mid thigh. He took a step to his left, presenting the virgin bottom to the room.

“Do not stand up until I tell you, nor attempt to reach back and cover you bottom, understand?”

“Yes sir,” Ivy didn’t know why she added sir, but it seemed appropriate under the circumstances.

“OUCH!” Ivy yelped. The first swat bit hard into her soft flesh, sending ripples flowing out while leaving an angry red oval behind.

“Awwwooocchhhheee!” Ivy wiggled her bottom about as the second swat landed on her other cheek.

“I hope you now understand this isn’t no joke.”

“ahh.. yes sir..AHHHH!” Ivy was interrupted by another swat biting down.

Ivy tried to stay strong, like she had read in all those stories, but reality hurt too much. Tears streamed down her face as Walt reached a dozen. Her emotions flowed with the tears, paying games in her head. She flashed from thankful to resentful to asking herself why she even thought this was a good idea. Resent faded around the second dozen and by the end of the third dozen, she was only thankful. Thankful, sorry and sore.

“I think that is enough for now. You can get up and place yourself against the wall like you saw Jessie earlier.” Walt took a step back from the crying girl and looked at his girl. She still at her thumb at her lips. “Have you been chewing on your nails?”

“No Sire!” Jessie said quickly, removing her hand from in front of her face.

“Good.” He said while stretching out his right shoulder. All that spanking begins to hurt he thought to himself. He chuckled at the joke, even if the girls wouldn’t have agreed it was funny.

Ivy moved to the prescribed spot and Walt returned to his previous seat on the futon, leaving Jessie standing awkwardly in the center of the room. Her bottom had a mild throb and she didn’t want to entice any new fire down here by sitting down, but she was becoming increasingly uncomfortable the longer she just stood there. She thought about laying down on her bed, but she was concerned he might think she was being antisocial and give her tail another workout.

She settled on a half sitting/half leaning against Walt position on the futon as he watched the news.

“Are you going home tonight or staying here?” Jessie asked Walt at the commercial break between news programs.

“I brought an overnight bag in case it got to late. I figure I should run out and grab it,” Walt got up and started towards the door, with Jessie in tow.

“I love you Daddy!” Jessie said quietly when they reached to door, wrapping her arms around him in a big hug.

Walt bent down and kissed Jessie before opening the door. “I almost forgot, your mom called yesterday and said your parents would be arriving on Tuesday next week.”

“Why did she call you?”

“You dad wanted to ask if I could hide your Christmas present so they could fly up at Christmas.”

“You aren’t going to let me peak are you!?” Jessie narrowed her eyes at Walt. Her eyes popped back open when Walt’s hand swatted down onto her backside. “Ouch!”

“Not unless you’d prefer more of that,” Walt smirked.

Jessie twisted her mouth to the side as she contemplated her husband’s offer. “I’ll have to think about it.”

Jacuzzis at Josei no Kiritsu

The story begins with Welcome to Josei no Kiritsu Spa and Dojo. I recommend you read that story first.

Taking Kaori advice to have a long soak in the jacuzzis only served to create more mixed emotions for Monica.

The Baths stood stark contrast to the dark wood of the locker room and Dojos. White Italian marble formed the core of every surface, coating the floor, walls and ceiling, as well as forming the structure of the 30 personal baths and the two community pools. Black and golden marble inlays accented the steps, the benches and the tops of the ionic columns circling the community pools. As Monica took in the architecture elegance she imagined this is what Roman Senators had enjoyed two millennium earlier.

What she witnessed in the Baths caused some most troubling yet liberating feelings. Being a bathhouse, she expected many of the occupants to be nude. She even half expected to see some signs of intimate contact. A couple of the personal tubs were shared by two women facing each other, though the enormous size of the tubs didn’t make this seem too strange.

Monica knew very well that expressions can tell one’s underlying emotional state. The slightly parted lips curved upwards into a gentle smile and softly closed eyes portrayed a state of extreme relaxation. Slow, heavy breathing coupled with the white knuckle grip spoke to a less innocent state.

“Ease in slowly, the hot water may sting a little,” Kaori advised when they reached the free tubs near the back.

“Sting a little?” Monica thought to herself when her hips reached the hot water. It was like throwing gasoline on the embers which where smoldering down there. She looked in Kaori’s direction to find the Asian lady all the way fully submerged. Well if she can do it so can I. With a deep breath of encouragement, her legs buckled allowing her to sink to her shoulders.

“Like putting warm water on a burn. Hurts for a moment then quickly passes.”

“I guess…” For Monica the fire had only started to weaken and spread its presence throughout her pelvic region. The cuts of the cane smarted, preventing her from fully resting down into the seat.

“Now for good part.” Kaori leaned over the edge of her tub and flicked a few buttons on the console next to Monica’s.

Monica flinched at the first pulse of hot water. Small jets of water started shooting at her back, pulsating down her spine in a wave. Washed way level upon level of tension which had been building since her run in with Sensei Hirsha. Soon, she even forgot about the smarting of the tramlines and settled fully into the tub’s contoured lounge seat. A second set of jets starting working their way from mid-thigh all the way down to her toes.

“Wow,” Monica moaned. This was better than most massages she had gotten back in New York.

Kaori snickered lightly before correcting her new friend, “You haven’t felt wow yet, but is should start soon.”

Right on cue the lower set of jets sprung to life eliciting a yelp from their target. The jets pulsating her back and legs died down to a low pressure as a new set of jets started to spray up between her legs. One small jet seemed to aim at her clit while a larger flow of water shot at her pussy.

Monica started to push herself up out of the tub and away from the invasive water jets when Kaori cut her off. “Relax and let them do their work. It’s just like a removable shower head.”

Monica blushed at the obvious reference to self pleasure. “How did this woman know she did that?” she questioned herself as she settled back into the tub. She tried to resist the primal urges building deep down for as long as possible. She wasn’t like them. She couldn’t do that here in front of everyone. However, in the end resistance was futile and the jets did their job with ruthless proficiency.

Monica spent the next two hours on the top of cloud nine. The sun looked brighter, the birds prettier, even the health conscious salad tasted splendid. Life was wonderful.

The chipper attitude followed her from lunch back to her room and the quick change into her tennis jumper. She’d brought a white and pink number made from a polyester/spandex blend. She loved the material, because of its soft, silkiness texture coupled with its elasticity made any piece of athletic wear a comfortable yet sexy outfit. It was even hydrophobic, preventing sweat spots in any color. She gave a whrill before the mirror closet doors to make sure the pleaded skirt lay properly before heading down to the tennis courts.

“Welcome ladies to this week’s tennis series. Each day you will play a single, six game set. Winning doubles will progress to the next level while the losing team going to the consolatory bracket to play for standing. Standard women’s open rules apply, with total differential penalty. Any questions?”

Monica didn’t pay as much attention to what was being said, as who was listening. She knew she was good at tennis, having played on her college varsity team, but a few of women looked like they had spent time ranked by WTA. Pro was a level she never really could reach in her heyday.

“Teams are posted at the entrance and by each scoreboard. When matches are complete, come speak with me to sign your score cards. I have nothing else, so good luck and may the best team win.”

Monica continuing to check-out her competition as she followed half of the group over to the standings board by the entrance to the courts. The group started to peel off once the players found their court number, eventually leaving Monica alone at the board. A couple games had already started when Monica found court number 4.

“Hi, I’m Rachel,” a blonde woman roughly Monica’s age held out her hand after shifting her racket to her left hand.

“Hello, I’m your teammate, Monica,” Monica took her teammate’s hand cheerfully. Rachel looked a little lanky and thin to be any good at sports, thought her opponents didn’t appear any more formidable.

“So, have you played before?” Rachel asked, dribbling a tennis ball.

“Yea, I played in college,” Monica answered. “You?”

“Good. I played in college also. Last time I played in this tournament I was matched with a complete novice. We were lucky to get past the first round.”

“Well, I won’t be happy unless we win it all,” Monica smiled broadly.

The first game did not go as well as Monica and Rachel would have liked, though they did win after having the play 4 game points. The second game they lost by two points. After the lost, their play settled down and they began to dominate their more inexperienced opponents, winning games by 60-love and 60-15.

“That’s set.” Monica announced when the shot went long, bouncing off the rear fence. “Good game.”

“You owe us 28 points!” Rachel proclaimed.

“Double down?” the brunette opponent asked.

“Sure,” Rachel responded, without even consulting with Monica.

Monica was quite lost. What did blackjack have to do with winning a tennis set? She had never heard of doubling down in anything other than cards. She didn’t really want to play another set right now. She followed her teammate over to the court-side benches, hoping someone would let her in on what was going on.

The two opponents both slipped a pair of thumbs up their skirts and wiggled their white panties down to their knees. Then, as if it was choreographed, they bent forward and placed their hands on the wooden bench, offering their bare behinds towards the court.

Rachel glanced at Monica, to ask which one she wanted, but her teammate’s puzzled look signed some explaining was needed first. “Come on, this is the best part. We won by 28 a total of points so we get to give them 28 swats with their racket or shoe. The double down thing means each swat with their panties down counts double. So its only 14, but still fun.”

“Ah…ok.” Monica wasn’t quite sure what to think, but she was definitely glad she wasn’t on the losing end.

“Shoe,” Rachel’s opponent bent her right knee, bring her shoe into Rachel’s reach. She slipped the shoe up, off her opponent, leaving her in only a single tennis shoe.

“Ah…shoe?” Monica asked and was similarly presented with a right foot and followed Rachel’s lead.

“OK, count good and loud!” Rachel told her opponent before laying rubber on flesh.

WHACK! “One!” WHACK! “Two!” Rachel whacked away on the brunette’s bottom.

Monica watched Rachel for a moment, then brought the shoe down onto her target. Whack! “One!” The spank was half-hearted at best.

“Wo wo wo,” Rachel stopped Monica. “Those aren’t spanks, their love taps.” She rounded her teammate to stand directly behind th blonde opponent. “You need to swing the shoe like it’s a tennis racket. Put some umph in it. Let her know your disappointed in her performance and is getting some motivation for next time.”

“Ah, ok.” Monica said hesitantly. She stepped a little bit back and to her left then took a solid grip around the heal section of the shoe. Bringing shoe high over her head, she whipped it down like she was serving.

WHACK! “Ahhhhhheeee!” The blonde squealed as the sole left a red and white treads on her bottom. “Owe owe…ah..four.”

“Much better,” Rachel congratulated. “Ten more like that should provide some nice motivation.”

Monica applied the shoe in slow focused strikes, earning a squeal from the blonde with each one. Nearing the end, she missed her target, landing the tennis shoe high on the thigh.

WHACK “Aahhhhheeeesssskkksss!” The blonde jumped up and grasped her bottom as she danced in a circle. Monica covered her mouth as she chuckled at the grown woman hopping around frantically while rubbing her bottom. The blonde’s antics caught the attention of Rachel and the brunette opponent, who paused to watch.

“Girl, I think you got spanking down pat.” Rachel complimented. “Now you still owe me two more,” she told the bent over brunette, gently tapping her the small of her back.

“Grrr,” the brunette growled.

Rachel didn’t want to be out done by her novice teammate, delivering two of the hardest swats she could muster. Neither producing the spectacle of her blonde, though the associated sting was verbally acknowledged.

“So, how do you like being on the top end?” Rachel asked Monica as the two walked back to their rooms.

“Ah..ok?” Monica stumbled to find an answer. She really wasn’t quite sure what to think about the day’s events. She didn’t really like the canning this morning, but the experience in the jacuzzi afterwards made it all better. Now, having spanked another person, another woman at that, she experienced some of the mixed emotions associated with inflicting such a punishment. It had been exciting even though she commiserated with the blonde, and the obvious pain she had inflicted.

“Ah, dishing it out is the best part. It’s so much better than having your own hide tanned.”

“True.”

Consequences for the spoiled brats

This story begins with Just Your Everyday Spoiled Brat Party. I recommend you read it first.

Becky had yet to leave her room since she got home from the police station. She didn’t really want to face her father, nor did she really fell like walking much. There was also the grounding issue. The housekeeper had delivered her meals and with her in-suite bathroom, she didn’t need to leave. She just laid on her stomach and watched TV all day, plotting her revenge on Gwen. Gossip Girl and One Tree Hill was providing her some spectacular inspiration.

Monday arrived and so did the anticipation of her mother’s arrival. She had only had a very brief conversation with her Mom on Sunday, which ended with that awful phrase “we will discuss this when I get home!” Becky knew full-well that the discussion would be one sided, with her doing very little of the talking.

“Ms. Rebecca, your father left this note for you.” their housekeeper told Becky when she brought up her breakfast.

“Thank you, Maria.” Becky said, taking the note and egg-white omelet. She closed the door then sat the tray on her desk before picking up the note. It was probably some more punishment or something, she thought.

“Becky, I have some errands for you to run for my office. You are to go straight to city hall and straight home when you get done. NO WHERE ELSE. Your keys are on the kitchen counter. Call me from the house phone when you get home. I’m going to pick up Mom from the airport and we’ll be home around 8 ~Dad.”

It could have been worst, she thought. At least she gets to leave the house, even if it is to go play page-girl. Normally, she would have preferred the law firm to city hall, so she could flirt with the cute associates, but today was not a flirty day. Today felt more like a pouting, sulky type of day. Sulking around the city hall didn’t sound like much fun though. She would have rather went to the beach, the mall or even the gym than city hall.

Becky plopped down onto her desk chair and instantly remembered why the beach would be a bad idea. Her bottom still ached and probably looked worst than it felt. Not a good combination with a string bikini. No matter, she would not be going anywhere she wanted to until college started next week. Maybe….

Becky reread the note twice more before the loophole hit her. Dad had required her to call when she got home so he’d know she went straight home, but he didn’t say anything about calling before she left. A quick glance at her alarm clock and a few simple estimates for traffic, getting ready and such told her that she would might have an extra hour, if she was quick. An hour at the mall was risky, and the good one wasn’t on the way to city hall. The gym, on the other hand was on the way, and she could get in a nice workout in an hour.

Becky scarfed down the omelet before stuffing a dressier outfit in her duffel bag and changing into yoga pants and a t-shirt. A light windbreaker and she was off. She referred to it as a gym, but The Club, as her parents and fellow members referred to it, was far from an ordinary gym. It really a private club with dinning rooms, a bar, and meeting rooms in addition to the standard gym and spa facilities.

An uptempo Becky rounded the privacy corner to find the locker room quite empty. It was 10 o’clock on a Monday morning, so it wasn’t too surprising to find the gym sparsely populated. She started to make her way down the rows of lockers when another woman crossed from the bathroom area into the locker alcoves.

It took Becky a moment to recognize the brunette. “Really?” she thought. “That bitch is at MY gym!” She took off in a huff to confront the cause of so much pain this weekend. She turned into the locker set where the girl had disappeared and stopped dead in her tracks. It was obvious that Becky had not been seen as the girl was bending over, fishing something out of the bottom of her locker, completely oblivious to her watcher. Becky let her jaw drop as she took in the sight before her.

The girl was wearing only bikini panties and a sports bra. In her current, inverted position, the panties had rode up into a slight wedgie, exposing the lower half of her cheeks. The lower half of her cheeks was had shocked Becky. Against the light pinkish brown background, a black and blue bruise marred the center of each cheek.

Becky let out a slight gasp. The girl had not heard Becky enter the locker room, and was consequently startled by the sound behind her. The brunette straightened up and turned around to come face-to-face with her rival. Upon seeing Becky, Gwen’s mood soured considerably.

“What?!” Gwen snapped. “Say whatever you are going to. I’m in no mood for your bitchiness right now.”

“I…ah…didn’t think..” Becky felt herself for a lost of words, a rare occurrence when dealing with people her own age. All the hatred she had for this girl seemed to disappear in a moment, and she didn’t understand why.

“Whatever, go tell all your friends that poor little Gwen is still spanked.” Gwen spewed her resentment at Becky finding out her secret.

“I..ah.. I didn’t think you still got it. I know back then, but now?” Becky said.

“Whatever,” Gwen dismissed turning back to her locker and the task of getting dressed. She wanted out of here and Becky’s sight as soon as possible.

“Gwen,” Becky placed a hand on her shoulder, turning the brunette around. “I’m not going to tell anyone. I promise.”

“Sure you won’t.”

“I won’t, because I know what it’s like.”

“Yea, yea, I remember that incident with my Mom’s car. But this isn’t the same. You don’t understand.”

Becky pursed her lips for a moment. This had most definitely not been part of her planned revenge on Gwen. Maybe she wasn’t all evil. They had been friends once. Fine she would show Gwen how she understood.

“Look,” Becky set down her bag then turned to her left side. Hooking her right thumb under the waistbands of her yoga pants and panties, she pulled the both down, revealing her right cheek. Raised maroon and purple welts still decorated her bottom.

“Oh, my god!” Gwen gasped at the sight. Gwen had long-ago thought she was the only girl in Malibu still spanked by her parents.

“See, I know what’s it like.”

“I didn’t think anyone still got it.” Gwen responded, still starring.

“Me neither. But you look to got it worst than me.”

“It’s not as bad as it looks. Its a standard paddling response, yours though. Ouch.” Gwen commented, running her finger along one of the purple ridges.

“Ouch.” Becky jumped, letting her panties and pants snap back into place.

“Sorry. What made those welts?”

“Dad’s belt.”

Gwen cringed at the thought of a leather belt searing into her bottom. Her mother’s little paddle was painful, but the belt was a whole different level she never wanted to reach. “I bet your dad was pissed. I saw him enter the police station as I left.”

“Pissed would have been better. He gave me the silent treatment the whole way home, then lit into me at home. The belt was only the start of my punishment. I’m grounded and stuff too. Mom has refused to talk about it until she gets home tonight.”

Gwen offered a sympathetic frown. “At least you were clothed. The cops caught me in the pool and provided an orange jumpsuit. Mom made me take it off and my panties before going to town with that damn paddle.”

“She still uses that same paddle she used on us?” Becky asked.

“No, that one broke shortly afterwards. She replaced it with this oak one that looks like a small sorority paddle.”

“Yikes!”

“Yup. ‘Panties down, over my lap and apply soundly until she no longer kicks and screams,’ is my Mom’s motto.” Gwen recited.

“Mom is the same way. Tonight will be hell.” Becky said, as she eased herself onto the bench.

“You got another one coming also?” Gwen asked.

“Probably, Mom said we’d have a ‘discussion’ when she got home.”

“Ah.”

“Why? are you getting another one?” Becky asked,

“If I am lucky.” Gwen remarked, drawing a puzzled look from Becky. “I’m to get one every Friday and Sunday night until my community service is complete.”

“Community service?”

“Yea, I should thank you for that, actually your dad and Melanie’s. Everyone caught at the party got 100 hrs of community service in exchange for all charges being dropped. Your Dad didn’t tell you?” Gwen informed Becky.

“No….”

“Yea, they couldn’t be seen favoring their kids. Better than going to court. I’m starting my community service this afternoon to limit my dates with that blasted paddle.” Gwen didn’t mention the hour of naked corner-time that went along with her paddlings. Normal corner-time was humiliating enough, but since she had been caught in such an immodest state, her mother felt it appropriate to associate immodestly with her punishment.

“I guess community service is better than court.” Becky shrugged.

“It is surely better than a spanking.” Gwen smirked, drawing a smile from Becky.

Final Period of My Wife’s Game Night

The story begins with My Wife’s Other Side is Released and continued with First Period of My Wife’s Game Night. and Second Period of My Wife’s Game Night.

Torture does not have to be physically painful. Emotional and psychological torture are just as bad, and according to current interrogation theory, more often much more effective at eliciting the desired response. Tonight, the four naked ladies in my kitchen were torturing me, or as close to such as I had ever experienced.

The game of kinky Sorry had continued after Kelly was knocked out without to much hoopla. Clothing came and went, but no one else got eliminated for a good fifteen rounds. I wasn’t counting, but seemed to go on forever with the girls just tossing off their blouses then putting it back on 2 rounds later. Since Kelly’s delivery, I had tried to avoid looking at the ladies. I’m a red blooded American Male and it took every ouch of control not to just stare. Especially with my wife’s implicit allowance.

“Honey, how is the hockey game?” Justine called out.

“Ah, not nearly as interesting as yours,” I yelled back, knowing she really did not care about the hockey game, rather than something else in mind. My wife is 95% innocent and angelic and about 5% scheming devil. Alcohol inverts those ratios.

“Then why don’t you come over here then?”

“O fuck!” was all I could think. My brain said it was a horrible ideal, but it wasn’t the head I was following when I got up and went over to the table. Justine must want to use me some how to gain an advantage in the game, or over me. Either way she was going to get her way, I might as well try to enjoy the ride. Hopefully it would not end with me sleeping on the couch.

“Ah, ok,” I replied, slowly easing myself off the couch. I didn’t want to look like a kid in a candy store, running over there to drool over the naked bodies. I could be cool and let my swagger show.

“Honey, I owe Kelly 15 spanks with the ruler. Why don’t you do it for me?” Justine asked in that sweet sultry voice she used when ever she wanted something special, or sex.

“Ah….” I stuttered. Well there goes cool. Was this a trick? I already knew I was going through with it, but I wanted to check my bases first. A sexy blonde was going over my lap to be spanked naked on my wife’s direction. I don’t see anywhere this could go bad for me.

“HEY! That’s not allowed!” Kelly exclaimed from her position behind my wife. Her crossed arms acting as a makeshift bra, it was clear she strategically choose her position to minimize exposure.

“You owe me 15 swats, I don’t see why Mike can’t give them, do you?” Justine glanced at Veronica and Naomi.

“Nope! Get over his lap Kelly!” Veronica laughed at what she viewed as her friend’s fortunate situation.

Kelly growled at her friend before obediently slipping behind Naomi then turning her back to me and sliding in front of me and into position over my knee. The whole process looked a little odd though she never exposed herself to me for much more than a few moments. The comical part was her embarrassment, since I had seen her full front earlier when she delivered the beer. Maybe the alcohol was wearing off allowing her modesty to poke through.

The globes staring up at me were everything I had imagined and more. Smooth skin overflowing the well toned thighs leading to long legs. Most of the red bars from before had faded into a nice, gentle blush. I lightly brushed my finger tips over the crowns as I took it in.

“Oh and honey, make sure they are good and hard, she was a bitch to me last week.” Justine disturbed me from the revile.

“I was not a bitch!” Kelly protested, trying to look up at my wife.

I was amazed by the attitude from someone in such compromising position. I bet I eliminate the attitude, I thought as a raised the ruler high above my shoulder.

CRACK! “OUCH! That hurt!” Kelly yelped as the shock waves ripped across her bottom.

“It’s supposed to,” Naomi commented. “you baby. She deserves it, she was a bitch.”

I’d never heard Naomi speak like that. It wasn’t anger or spite, rather more out of annoyance with her friend. Kelly must actually deserve this spanking I told myself as I brought the ruler down with slow, firm strokes.

CRACK! “OOWEEE!” She tried reaching back, but her wrist just gave me leverage to hold her in position.

CRACK! “YEEOWWCCHH!” CRACK! “Ahhh, please!” CRACK! “Ahhhhhhh!”

She reaction to the spanks shifted from yelps to more active signs of distress, including kicking her legs in the air, causing her torso to bounce on my lap. This did nothing but make the erection in my pants harder. So hard it began to hurt. I could really use a bathroom break to release some pressure.

CRACK! “YEOOWWCCH!!” Kelly cried out as I finished up my allotment.

“That’s fifteen,” I said, offering a friendly hand to the upended woman.

“Ow ow ow,” Kelly repeated as she used one hand to raise off my lap while the other was locked on her glowing bottom. She hopped about, rubbing the the sting of the ruler out of her bottom. I must’ve been harder than the rest of the girls, because none of them had yet to do the spanking dance.

“Serves you right,” Naomi remarked moving her piece around the board. She, like the other two active players had nothing on above the table, though she was clearly embarrassed by her state of undress. The slouched statue and arm firmly positioned across her chest prevented any kind of show.

Justine performed her turn, getting her only piece just outside of her safe area. Next turn she probably could win back piece of clothing. Go Honey!

“Bye, bye Justine,” Veronica mocked my wife with a little wave.

“Grrrr!” Justine glared across the table at Veronica.

“So, what do you got left?” Veronica asked, trying to suppress the broad grin overtaking her smile.

“A 7, 10, 12 and a Sorry!” Justine threw down her hand in annoyance.

“Oh, a 12 and a Sorry! Naomi, lets have Mike give them instead of us. He did a good job with Kelly,” Veronica proposed.

“Ah, ok,” Justine accepted a little bit to eagerly. She thought I’d go easy on her, and I would have went easier had Naomi not inserted a condition.

“Only if he doesn’t do it hard enough we’ll stop and do it ourselves,” Naomi said.

“Hey, see if I go easy on you next time,” Justine snipped.

“Who says there will be a next time?” Naomi shot back as she brought her glass to her lips.

“Fine, lets get this over with honey,” Justine got up seat then sashayed over to my lap. I wanted to rip off my pants have her right then. That sexy shake of her hips and the pouty face did it for me every time. It wasn’t like I needed any more encouragement, and Justine damn well knew it. That was her plan, to tease me all evening. Damn! I’ll get her back; now with the spanking and later.

“Over you go,” I instructed.

“Sniff sniff, yes sir,” she pouted before taking her place. Justine hadn’t been over my knee in a while, as fun and disciplinary spankings had been in other positions.

CARCK! CRACK! “Ouch! Not so hard!” CRACK! “Owwwe!” I worked that ruler up and down my wife’s bottom, delivering crisp swats that I knew stung. If she was going

“Harder!” Veronica cheered on.

“Yea, you did me harder,” Kelly added.

I obliged the girls, since I didn’t want her to get spanked again, or at least that was what I would admit to if Justine asked.

The sting really started to get to Justine as I neared a dozen. Her bucking and whimpering had matched Kelly’s even though she was only halfway done.

CRACK! CRACK! “Yoop!” Yeeeoooch!” She yelped and kicked her legs about with each swat, rolling her hips across my lap.

And then I was done. Twenty seven spanks. Angry red stripes marking every impact, contrasting with her natural khaki complexion.

I leaned forward to whisper, “Ok baby, its all over.” Justine pushed herself off my lap and instantly started dancing about, rubbing the single from her bottom.

“That’s a nice dance,” Naomi teased. “I bet you do it often.”

She was right though. Justine danced about with more style and flair than Kelly. The spanking dance was not a normal part of her repertoire. Her spankings where normally followed up with corner time or sex, the later being more prominent and the reason why she hadn’t been over my knee in a long time.

While most of us watched my wife’s performance, Veronica had other ideas. She had been keenly watching me spank Kelly and now Justine. She was now just staring at me, eating me up with her hungry eyes. Hungry eyes that turned mischievous once Justine stopped dancing about. “Ah I think Mike could use a blowjob. He looks all ready and primed,” Veronica teased.

“Hey, I think this is going too far..” I protested starting to stand up. A little stripping and spanking were ok, but not actual acts, even if it would be with my wife.

“Sit down there,” Kelly commanded as she pushed my shoulders down, and into the chair. “Justine lost fair and square, now she has to serve the players until a winner is determined.” What? Serve the winner? This was way too much though.

“Yes, ma’am” Justine said, kneeling before me. “It’s ok” I think she mouthed me before unzipping my pants. I wish I could have protested more, but there was a lack of blood flowing to my brain.

“Ooh la la,” Veronica moaned when I sprung free.

Justine gave an agonizingly slow lick from my balls to tip. I wanted to cum at that second but I couldn’t. The damn I’d built up over the last 2 hours was too strong. She looked up into my eyes as she swirled her tongue around my tip then engulfed the entire head. A gently sucking before she bobbed down. Her throat teased my tip then she relented.

“That’s it! Deep throat him, I bet he loves it! Don’t you Mike!” Veronica cheered.

“Oh yea…” I moaned went all the way down. The damn was breaking and I could feel the waves starting to build. So they would reach a crescendo and come flooding forth. A few deep pulses worked my head before she pulled off, keeping just the tip imprisoned.

“Hhmmm mmmmm,” she hummed, working her lips halfway down then back up. Her tongue glided over the bottom overloaded my senses.

“That’s it, that’s it,” I stuttered before letting out a low moan as I filled my beautiful wife’s mouth. “YEEAAA!”

Justine started sucking and swallowed wave after wave. She didn’t stop once I was empty though. Swirling her tongue around my ultra-sensitive member was pure torture. I couldn’t control anything as wave after wave of ecstasy overloaded my brain. I couldn’t move. My heart raced. Then my eyes rolled back in my head and the room went dark.

****************

“SCORE! THE BLACKHAWKS WIN!” the announcer yelled on TV. I opened my eyes to see the white jersey’s flooding the ice as the opposing goalie skated off. Yuck, I had drooled on myself. How long had I been out? That was the best blowjob Justine had ever given me. I wonder how they got me all the way over here though.

I eased myself off the couch to see the girls huddled around the table, all fully dressed. I guess the game must be over. I walked over to the kitchen table to see Sorry! still setup

“Honey, why don’t you go up to bed. We could hear your snoring all the way over here.” Justine told me.

“Who won?” I asked, curious if it was Veronica or Naomi.

“I did,” said my wife. How could that be? She had lost. That’s why I spanked her. That’s why she had to go down on me. That’s why….why I want to get up to bed and return to dreamland.

Justine got up and met me at the doorway to the front hallway. “I’ll tell who I won for the weekend when I come up to bed.”