First Birthday Spanking – 2
By Jonathan Quincy Graves
{ Note: This is the second installment of a series. To start at the beginning, go to Part 1 }
Part 2
It was Vickie’s birthday, but her husband, Bill, was getting spanked. He served corner time in the living room, completely naked, hands at his sides, flaming red bottom burning, throbbing and itching, but he dared not rub it. Vickie warned him not to. He’d met his neighbor, Vera Kennedy, less than an hour ago, but she definitely taught him the importance of following orders.
Bill came home from a Saturday round of golf, eagerly looking forward to turning his delightful wife over his knee for her first birthday spanking, as she’d hinted just that morning. It turns out he’d misinterpreted her hints. In his absence, Vickie made her birthday wish. She wished Bill would be the one to be spanked in her place. Bill’s older sister Kathy and their neighbors Marge and Mrs. Kennedy were all there for the celebration.
Vera Kennedy was the leadoff spanker because of her experience raising her sons and husband (apparently), and she was more than impressive. After a warmup of 28 hand spanks (Vickie’s age) plus one to grow on, she proceeded to super-heat Bill’s bottom with a small wooden paddle she brought just for the occasion.
Before she started, he wondered which was worse, being spanked over Vera’s knee, or the embarrassment of having to strip naked in front of four women—two near strangers—to accept that spanking. Once Vera started using her paddle, there was no longer any doubt in his mind. All attention locked on that paddle and the terrible rhythm it beat on his bare bottom.
Bill was spanked occasionally when he got into trouble as a youth, by both his mother and by Kathy. (Kath enjoyed having his little pink buns bouncing on her lap as her hand stroked and smacked them.) Those spankings ended when he turned 12, and they were never as lengthy or as severe as the spanking he just received from Vera.
Worse yet, the women had not finished with him. Vickie promised Kathy and Marge they would each get their turn at a hand spanking after this corner time. She planned to go last and once again exercise Vera’s paddle. The anticipation of what was to come was almost more than Bill could stand, but stand it, he would. Both Vera and Vickie were determined, and Vera was bigger and stronger than he. While Vickie, well, he didn’t want to think what Vickie would do if he tried to cross her now. Vickie was not as tall or as strong as her husband, but she surpassed him when it came to grit and determination. There was not a doubt in his mind, in this, she was determined.
From the living room, he could hear the ladies talking and laughing in the kitchen, along with the sound of the plates and forks as they took them out of the cupboard to enjoy Vickie’s birthday cake. Bill sincerely hoped they would take their time, perhaps have a second piece of cake and a second and third cup of coffee—make that decaf—anything to postpone the birthday spanking ritual that was bound to resume.
“I’m impressed, Vera,” Kathy said. “I used to spank Bill on occasion when he was younger, but I never got the results you did today. You really had him toeing the line by the time you were done.”
“Well, dear, it is just a matter of practice. I’ve learned men of any age never outgrow the need for an occasional spanking, and when the job needs to be done, it is up to their wives or mothers to make sure it is done properly. Otherwise, what’s the point?”
“I’ve decided to adopt your philosophy, Vera,” Vickie said. “Bill has been growing more and more neglectful lately, and I don’t plan to put up with it anymore. You mentioned you used to spank your husband John when he deserved it. Were those spankings as lengthy as the one you just gave Bill? How often did they occur?”
“Oh my, yes. I always paddled John until convinced he learned his lesson, and if he’d been very naughty, I followed up with a good session with the strap. There is nothing like the sound of leather tanning bare bottom to get a man’s attention, especially if the bare bottom is his own.” The women all laughed.
“As to how often I spanked, well, that depended entirely upon John’s behavior. At first, he would get all macho and try to assert his independence, and I had to take him to task at least once or twice a week. As he learned his place in our relationship, a little reminder session once a month usually kept him in line. But you have to be resolute and consistent. Minor acts of forgetfulness or inconsideration can multiply into major disobedience if you do not nip them promptly in the bud.”
“I never guessed such things were going on,” Marge said as she finished her last bite of chocolate cake. “To think a woman could actually spank a man when he was bad. If my Jim got what he deserved while we were still married, he wouldn’t have been able to sit down more than three days a month.” (More laughter.) “But then I’m much smaller than the rest of you. I could never have done what you did to Bill.”
“Well,” Vera responded as she carried her plate to the sink, “it’s mostly a matter of attitude and determination. I would have helped you get started, but it wasn’t my place to interfere. Heaven knows your Jim deserved it. That young floozy I see him with now is unlikely to do any better. She’ll just let herself become another victim until he tires of her and moves on to the next one.”
“Well, ladies, shall we take our coffee into the living room?” Vickie asked. “I hate to make poor Bill wait too long all alone there doing corner time. Leave the dishes. I’m sure he will be eager to clean them up later.” The ladies refilled their coffee cups and returned to their seats on the couch.
As she walked back into the room, Marge stared fascinated at the naked man in corner time. She had never been so turned on as while watching Bill squirm, kick and plead over Vera’s knee, his bottom heating to a cherry red. The thought that she would get a turn, almost put her over the edge. She even pictured her own diminutive frame over Vera’s strong thighs, kicking and squealing, and even that fantasy excited her.
By coincidence, Bill also imagined Marge’s petite charms displayed over a sturdy pair of thighs, but in his imagination, those thighs were his own. A man has to occupy his mind with something other than the burning sting in his backside while obediently serving corner time. Bill was, after all, a spanko, and he often dreamed of spanking a delightful pair of pink female cheeks. Of the ladies present, Marge seemed like the only likely candidate. Vickie made it clear she would not be on the receiving end of any spanking play.
Unfortunately, this little fantasy had more than its average effect on his libido, and he was now hard as a rock, just when he was likely to be called from the corner. Desperately, Bill tried everything he could think of to deflate his member in time, but that commercial about “if an erection lasts for more than four hours…” flashed through his mind, and he almost blurted out in frustrated laughter.
“Kathy, why don’t you be next to take the chair of honor,” Vickie said.
“Love to. This will be just like old times,” Kathy laughed.
“You can come out of the corner now, Bill. It’s your sister’s turn to deliver the traditional birthday spanking.”
Marge gasped in surprise when she saw the size of Bill’s erection. He dared not cover himself, lest Vera bring out her paddle again, and it seemed all of his blood flowed to the two ends of his body. His member was engorged as it had seldom been before, and his face felt even hotter than his backside had a moment ago.
Obedient, but far too embarrassed to look into the eyes of the women present, Bill approached his older sister, now seated in the spanking chair.
“My, my,” Kathy said with a smirk. “I never saw one of those when I used to paddle your little bare bottom. It looks to me like you have been naughty all alone out here in your corner while we were enjoying your wife’s birthday cake in the kitchen.”
“You’ll pay for that, dear, when I try out Vera’s paddle,” Vickie said. “If it is as effective as it seemed to be when she demonstrated its use earlier, I think I may have to take her up on her offer.” (Vera offered to lend the paddle to Vickie on the condition she be allowed to come over on a monthly basis to ensure it still worked properly. Bill was terrified he knew precisely what that meant.)
“Warm him up good for me, Kathy, and you too Marge. I don’t want him distracted by that little bulge in his front side while I’m paddling his deserving bare backside.”
“Come here, you bad boy,” Kathy said, “and get over your big sister’s knee. We’ll dispense with counting to twenty-eight. You should know better than to insult us all with your little display.”
Little! Marge thought. Granted, I’ve only really known two men in my life, but that’s the most impressive ‘display’ I’ve ever seen. But then Kathy started briskly applying her hand to the pink bottom stretched across her lap, and Marge was once again sucked into her erotic fantasies.
SMACK, SMACK, SMACK The sound of a firm female hand thoroughly spanking deserving male backside once again echoed around the room along with tearful little-boy pleas for mercy and promises to be good.
Despite the sting developing in her right hand, Kathy thoroughly enjoyed herself. She had received significant pleasure from her role as disciplinarian when they were both younger, and this was just like old times. Well, proportions had transformed. When she first undertook this task at their mother’s direction, she could cup both cheeks of Billy’s cute little bottom in one hand.
Even though Bill was much larger now, she could still elicit many of the same responses from him. Still pink and tender from the extensive paddling Vera gave him an hour before, he reacted to the smack of her right hand in the same way he did as a child. His buns clenched, bounced, and rebounded with each smack; his legs flutter kicked; Kathy pinned his right wrist to his shoulder blades after he tried to cover himself; and he cried, pleaded and promised to be good, just as he had those many years before.
Their mother, Janet, had always seen to the discipline of both of her children; until one day Bill got angry at his older sister and trashed her room. When Kathy came home and discovered the damage, she ran to her mom to complain. Janet called Bill into the family room, pinned him with her eyes until he stopped his denials and dropped his gaze to his shoes, then without taking her glare from her son, she said: “Kathy, I think it is time you learned how to handle bad little boys.”
Kathy grinned, remembering Billy’s reaction. He’d said, “Mom, you can’t let her spank me. She’s just a girl!”
Kathy returned from her childhood reverie to realize her hand really was smarting. Bill was still kicking and squirming across her lap, but now he was sobbing and his pleas were almost unintelligible. As directed by Vickie, Kathy went way beyond the traditional birthday count, and although she was enjoying herself despite the fire in her hand, she decided it was time to let Marge have a turn. Finishing with a few hard spanks to her favorite target on the male bottom—right at the base, the spot her mother showed her those many years before—Kathy stopped and stroked Bill’s buns.
“There, there, little brother. I’m done now,” she cooed. “If you had not been so naughty while we ladies were in the other room, you would have gotten off a lot easier. I hope you have learned that when you are naughty, you will be spanked. I’m afraid I did not do my duty as I should have as you got older. You’re lucky your wife is willing to take on the responsibility. Don’t worry, though, I’ll always be available to help her whenever she needs me.”
With a smile, Kathy looked up at the other women. Vickie stood nearby, hands on her hips, nodding in satisfied agreement. Marge sat intently watching Kathy stroke Bill’s blazing red bottom, a glazed look in her eyes, the tip of her little pink tongue licking at her lips. Vera seemed to be primarily watching Marge, a speculative gleam in her eyes.
Marge could hardly wait for her turn, and in the meantime, she tried to imagine what it would be like for her dainty little hand to come crashing down on those resilient, bouncing and squirming pink cheeks. How delicious!
END of Part 2
Revised July 2022.
The story continues with Part 3.