Even Hotter

By Jonathan Quincy Graves

[Sequel to Too Darn Hot]

I mentioned on a previous occasion that my fiancée, Mary, has a world-class, perfect, female ass.  I love to admire it, to caress it, even to kiss it, but what I love most is to spank it.  Mary has let me spank her three times, not vicious, hurtful spanks, more playful but attention-getting spanks.

Each time I’ve asked her, Mary has responded, “All right, but if you spank me, I get to spank you back at a later place and time of my choosing.”  I’ve always agreed, it’s only fair, but so far, she has never cashed in any of those IOUs.

Actually, it might not be entirely fair.  While she has a perfect female ass, my ass is nothing to write home about, just your typical male ass.  So, the esthetics of her over my knee has to be far superior to those with me over hers.  Who looks at men’s asses?  I’ve made it my life’s study to check out the girls in that department, but the boys?  Please.  At any rate, men’s asses are more durable than women’s, at least that’s what I’ve always assumed.

We were in Mary’s folks’ basement, relaxing and discussing wedding arrangements with her mom.  Her dad was on a golf course somewhere.  We were in the basement because it was another hot day, and their basement rec room is very comfortable on hot days.  I had a cold beer, and Mary and Frances were drinking iced tea.

“Mom,” Mary said after a lull in the conversation, “did I ever tell you that John thinks he should give you a spanking?”

I sputtered, and beer went up my nose and set me to sneezing.

“No, dear.  Did John say what he felt warranted this chastisement?”

“Yes, he thought you raised me in too much of a libertine atmosphere, and that warranted corporal correction.”

I’d got my coughing fit under control, but I could feel my face turn dark red.  Both women were looking at me.  Mary faux-serious, Frances with a quirky almost-smile, left eyebrow raised.

“We were just fooling around,” I managed, waving off the subject with my free hand.

“It didn’t feel like we were ‘just fooling around.’  I got spanked as I recall.  Most unfair since it was my mother you said was at fault.”

“Is this true, John?” Frances asked.  “Did you spank my daughter for some fault of which you imagined I was guilty?”

“Well, yes, I did spank her, but it wasn’t serious, just a playful little spanking.

“Mary, I can’t believe we are discussing this in front of your mother,” I said, my face still bright red.  If there’d been a power failure, the glow would have lit the basement, no problem.

“That doesn’t sound proper, John,” Frances said.  “Not at all chivalrous.  I’m having second thoughts about this wedding, if you are already beating my daughter.  I do not want to see her sold into a life of misery at the hands of a beer-drinking, wife beater.”

I’d had one beer, starting my second.  Certainly not in the process of some out-of-control alcoholic binge.  Excessive drinking is not one of my failings.

“Hey now, that’s putting it a little strong.”  I knew Frances was yanking my chain.  She struggled to keep a straight face—make a lousy poker player.  “I promise I will never beat Mary so that she requires hospitalization.”  At that, we all broke up.  I was relieved that the tension was past.

“To be fair, mom, we made a deal, didn’t we, John?”

“What deal was that?” I asked.

“You agreed that if I let you spank me, you would let me spank you at a later place and time of my choosing.  Remember?”

“Oh, yeah.  You never have asked to collect, though.  I was beginning to think you preferred the receiving end, so to speak—spankee, rather than spanker.”

“No, I would much rather be the spanker—the hammer rather than the nail.  And, I think I’ll collect on the first of those promises today.

“He owes me three trips across my lap,” she added looking at Frances.

“Fair enough, I will be your willing victim when we get back to my place.  Unless you’d rather have the ceremony at yours?”  This conversation was a little embarrassing with her mother listening, but I was getting over my initial surprise.  That thing with beer up the nose was flat humiliating.

“‘A place and time of my choosing,’ was the condition you agreed to, John, and I’m in the mood now.  So, come over here so I can help you with your pants.”

“What?” I blurted.

“I can go make myself busy upstairs while you children play,” Frances said, rising from her chair.

“Unnecessary, mom,” Mary said, with an evil leer in my direction.  “It’s time for this villainous villain to get his comeuppance.  Muahaha,” she said, twirling an imaginary mustache (and mixing her metaphors).  “Besides,” she added, “this all began with a dastardly slur upon your character.  You deserve recompense even though you were unaware of the defamation.”

“Since you put it like that,” Frances said, returning to her chair.

“You’re not serious,” I said, beginning to sweat.  The basement wasn’t that cool.

“It’s only fair, love,” Mary said.  “I’m not a big strong man who can spank a person until they are kicking and squealing across my lap.  I’ve got to have some other element to make the scene as embarrassing for you as you make it for me.”

“But I’ve never spanked you hard—never for real,” I protested.

“You know, I’ve noticed that.  I’ve even mentioned several times that your spankings were pretty wimpy.  Ah well, you’ve had your chances.  Come over here, John.”

I looked at Mary, and I looked at Frances.  Both were looking back at me.  Damn, I hate to chicken out, even though Mary seemed to be taking unfair advantage of a technicality in the wording of the deals we made.

With a sigh, I got up and walked over to Mary.  What the hell, I thought, I don’t have anything Mary’s mom hasn’t seen before, and I don’t want either of them to think of me as a coward or a welsher.  It never occurred to me Mary would want to collect in front of someone else.  Could be worse, I guess, at least her dad’s not here.  That would be embarrassing.

When I was standing in front of Mary, I reached for my belt, but Mary slapped my hands away.  “I’ll take care of that.  All you have to do is stand there… well, and bend when the time comes.”  She was having far too much fun at my expense.

As she worked on my pants, me standing between her and Frances, she whispered, “You okay with this?  Kinda late now, but don’t want to embarrass you too much.”

I didn’t respond right away.  Had trouble coming up with an answer.  Sure, she’d sandbagged me, should probably be pissed, but on the other hand, Frances is a foxy lady.  A real MILF.  Plus, she’s a nice lady.  Always treated me well.  “No problem, I whispered back, but I’m gonna be more careful of the wording of our deals in the future.”

Mary wore this devilish little smile, looking straight at my crotch, as she pulled down my zipper and let my pants fall to the floor.

“Over you go,” she said, hand on my arm, pulling me in position.  She’d left my boxers in place, for which I was both grateful and surprised.  Didn’t last long, her next order was, “Raise up so I can take care of these.”  She put her fingers under the waistband and lowered my shorts to mid-thigh.

“I can’t tell you how much I’ve been looking forward to this,” Mary said.  “Every time you’ve spanked me, I’ve pictured this scene in my mind.  Evil, I know, but I was being spanked at the time.  I had the right to think evil thoughts.”

The room got real quiet.  I could see Frances watching out of the corner of my eye.  She looked like she was all set to enjoy the show.

Mary cupped and stroked my bottom.  “Love this ass, darlin.  I know you think women don’t notice these things, but you’ve got a world-class, man’s ass.  One reason I got you to propose.  Not the only reason, but high on the list.”

Suddenly, I heard and felt a Smack!  “That all you got?” I asked, remembering the crap Mary gave me the first time I spanked her.

“I think I can come up with a little more,” she said with a laugh and spanked me again, much harder.

That one caught me by surprise, and I just managed to withhold a yelp.  I’ve never been spanked, so didn’t know what to expect.  Turns out smacks to the bear skin of a person’s butt can sting a little.  Not a problem, just interesting in an academic sense.

Smack!  Now that was harder.  Almost got me to flinch and raise my feet.  I knew I should give her more guff on her strength and technique, but damn, a couple hundred of those could light a person up pretty good.  I decided instead to just go all stoic, not react to the spanks Mary was delivering.

Mary paused between spanks—letting me adjust, I guess—but she started a rhythm and the spanks gradually landed closer together.  They also got harder.  Had to be hurting her hand, poor dear.  Me… I was okay.  Stung some, flame was building, but nothing a man couldn’t handle without embarrassing himself in front of his future wife and mother-in-law.

There was another short pause, and I heard Frances say, “Try this.  No sense hurting your hand.”

I realized then that Frances was standing next to us.  Didn’t even notice her leaving her chair.  A glance back told me Frances had equipped Mary with a small paddle.  Small in relation to big, thick, fraternity paddles, but with a handle and a round business end—a nice size to fit one ass cheek.

“Hey,” I said, “that’s escalation.  No fair.  Paddles were banned by the Geneva Accords.”

“You can’t expect that a little girl’s hand would be equivalent to the big strong man’s hand you used to spank me.  We sweet young things need to use something to balance the scales.”

Smack!!  Now that stung.  “Ouch.  That’s really not fair.”

“Hang in there, boyfriend, we’re just getting started,” she said with a chuckle.

Mary laid down a half dozen real stingers before pausing again.  I was grunting with each stroke now, and my feet were levitating off the floor.

“I’ve been thinking about this whole spanking thing,” Mary said during another pause, “and I’ve decided that I much prefer to be the spanker rather than the spankee.”

Smack!!  Smack!!  Smack!!

“Besides, it’s common knowledge, and I think mom will back me up on this, that men are just little boys with bigger and more expensive toys.  You never do mature, and you need a good woman to provide discipline now and then.  So, since this is the first of three spankings you owe me, I’ve decided to make it a real barn-burner to set the tone for our future married life.

“I know we haven’t discussed this yet, but I’ve decided for us.  I will be the disciplinarian in our new life together, and you will be the one who accepts my discipline.”

That announcement was interspersed with some impressive smacks from that damned paddle.  Impressive enough to make me yelp and kick in earnest.

“I’m sure you agree with this plan, and if not, I’m sure you will agree before I’m done explaining it to this glowing ass of yours.  It is a nice ass, by the way, I wasn’t kidding about that.  And it colors up nicely too.”

Mary extracted her right leg from under me and used it to clamp my legs in place.  I’d already made the mistake of reaching back to protect my bottom, so she held my wrist in the small of my back.  With me immobilized, she went back to applying that damned piece of wood to fan the flame in my ass ever higher, until I’d lost control.  So much for stoic.

Mary continued to paddle me for another thirty hard smacks then paused again.

“I don’t want to be all dictatorial about this, so I’ll leave it up to you.  You don’t mind if I’m the disciplinarian in our new family, do you?  And,” she inserted before I could answer, “remember that I have not yet announced the end of this spanking.  Plus, you owe me two more after this one.”  Smack!!

“So, as I was saying, you agree with this arrangement as I’ve described it to you, right?”  Smack!!

“Yes… yes, dear,” I managed.  I’d had enough.  Hell, I’d had more than enough.  Anything she wanted would have seemed reasonable to me.

“I’m glad, John.  That’s why I wanted mom here.  She is our witness that we discussed this issue and agreed.”

“That’s what I observed,” Frances said.  “Don’t take it too hard, John.  I made the same proposal to Carl just before we married, and it’s worked for us ever since.  Ask him, if you like.  I won’t try to influence his answer.  I don’t have to.  We’ve incorporated his discipline into a loving, successful relationship.  I don’t think he would change it if I gave him the option.”

“I’m glad you’re willing to follow my lead, darling,” Mary said.  “It will be for the best, you’ll see.  Now, let’s finish up here so we can relax together until dinner.”

“But…” was all I got out before Mary went back to paddling my defenseless bottom.  It didn’t go on much longer, but it seemed like forever.  All I can say is that I am sure glad she wasn’t mad at me.  Could have been worse… not sure how.

END

Copyright © 2019 by Jonathan Quincy Graves. All right reserved.  Please do not repost or use for any commercial purpose without written approval from the author.