Souvenir Paddles - III
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. I’d gone to Florida with some friends on spring break and drunk too much beer, falling asleep on the beach. The sun had rapidly par-broiled my body, leaving a burn that required but a light touch to be painful. That was what my bottom already felt like.
But, she wasn’t touching it lightly. She was punishing it with maybe one swat every couple of seconds, each swat as vigorous as the last, with a promise of another, equally-severe swat to follow.
I slowly became aware that she’d stopped paddling. I continued to cry — sob, really, as she’d promised I would — tears streaming down my face, my nose running, my chest heaving. I don’t know how long my disciplinarian had been speaking but I heard her now, speaking to her twins.
“There you have it, girls. That was an acceptable warm-up. We will let him calm down and collect himself before I give him his thrashing. If either of you would like to have his tear-covered face between you thighs — or between your butt cheeks — you can take this opportunity to have a submissive man serve you. Serve you, that is, as I whip his ass like he’s never even imagined that a man could be whipped.
“You needn’t say anything. Just scoot forward on your chair and, if you’re wearing any, remove your panties. If you’d prefer that he rim your butt, simply kneel on the chair, bare bottom facing the room and I’ll have him show his respect to you while I whip him.
“Surely you know what a privilege it is for a man to be able to serve such young, beautiful girls in the most intimate ways. A privilege for which he will pay. I’ll see to that. He’ll pay with the skin of his rear.”
I was just able to see that the twins had both responded to their mother’s invitation. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that one of them had scootched forward in her chair, offering her clean-shaven pussy to my attentions. Her twin had opted for the rear homage and was kneeling on her chair, her hard-bodied young bubble butt transmitting a silent siren’s song, promising the reward that only a young lady can offer.
In spite of what I anticipated to come in a moment, I was still anxious to lick and suck on these two girls’ bodies. I could feel my cock throbbing and my ass burning. I knew that I was going to be beaten some more. Beaten unmercifully as my pleas were ignored. I knew that her promise to ‘un-man’ me was not empty. I felt, viscerally, that I was soon to travel to a spot that many men dreamed of — but never experienced in reality.
Directing me to the daughter whose bottom was facing me, she ordered me to crawl over and insinuate my face between her butt cheeks. As I did so, I saw her sweet little, clean-shaven pussy peeking from between her luscious thighs. I hoped that I’d get a taste of her pussy also, but was also excited at the prospect of licking her ass.
“It’s almost show time, little man. Later, I’ll treat you to the strap and the cane. For now, I think that you will benefit from a further application of the paddle. You certainly seemed to react to its sting during your warm up.
“When I stop talking and start paddling you, I expect you to start licking Tammy’s crack and tongue-fucking her butt hole. I want you to get your tongue up her ass as far as possible and if you don’t perform to her satisfaction, I’ll get out a single tail whip and make you wish you’d never entered my store.”
She’d stopped talking and my tongue was already in motion when I felt the now-familiar sting of the paddle.
This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than Lushstories.com
with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
<a href="https://www.lushstories.com/stories/spanking/souvenir-paddles-iii.aspx">Souvenir Paddles III</a>