I suddenly heard voices coming from the direction in which she’d left. It sounded like the lady and at least one other female.
Good grief!! This was getting deeper as we went along. I couldn’t imagine with whom she was speaking but figured I wouldn’t need to wait long to find out. I was right in this assumption.
The voices were moving now, towards the room in which I knelt. As they grew closer, it sounded as if there were two girls speaking with my lady. As they entered the room, she spoke,
“Stay as you are on the floor but you have my permission to look up.”
When I looked in the direction of her voice I was stunned by the sight of two absolutely beautiful young ladies, girls more like it, perhaps teens.
“These are my twin daughters, Tammy and Tiffany. They’re only now 18 years old. They never had a chance to learn to discipline a man when their father was alive as they were too young and I thought it ill-advised to expose them to our intimate relationship.
“They told me when they were older — after their father was gone — that they’d heard me spanking and paddling their dad but were afraid to say anything to me.
“I promised them that when I next thrashed a man, I’d let them observe. If they wish to, they are also allowed to use your mouth. You will obey their instructions as if it they were coming from me. Believe me - if you give me the slightest reason, I’ll turn your whipping over to them and give them an opportunity to experience hearing a man cry as a result of their discipline.”
Speaking to her daughters now, she told them to take seats in two arm chairs and strode to where I was kneeling. I hadn’t noticed at first, but now I saw that she was carrying one of the souvenir paddles that I’d admired in her store. She saw me looking at the paddle and smiled an imperious smile.
“Well, little man, it’s time. Do not move from where you are. You are permitted to cry and scream — and I promise that you will. Ultimately, you will be permitted to sob and the three of us look forward to hearing that sound of you begging for mercy and crying like a little boy.”
Without another word, she moved like a flash and I felt the flat of the paddle connect with my right buttock. The sting imparted by that one swat was a harbinger of what was to come and I trembled in terror as the full import of what I had submitted to came home. I didn’t have time to ruminate though, as she quickly directed the paddle’s attention to my left buttock and then continued with a steady barrage of swats, left-right, left-right — and my bottom quickly took on a sting and heat.
I’d thought about this fantasy so many, many times over the years. I’d masturbated with a vision of this moment in my mind’s eye, never realizing how incredibly painful it would be. The reality, needless to say, caused the fantasy to pale in comparison.
In my fantasy, it was exciting, arousing, sexy…appealing. I wasn’t feeling aroused or sexy now. Just afraid — terrified, actually, as I started to comprehend how much this was going to hurt. It hardly seemed possible that the paddle could hurt so much.
I felt the sting, the incredible sting, of the paddle’s bite as it repeatedly made contact with my bottom. Over and over, one cheek to the another and then low-center — my ‘sit spot’ as I’d seen it called on the internet.
I guess that she liked the sound of my howling as she began to ‘work’ on this sit spot. She just kept swatting the same place — time and again, one swat nearly over-lapping the previous sting.
My mind suddenly traveled back in time to my senior year in high school.