by Carl Hamlin
Libby pressed her head against his chest, sniffling as she tried to talk. “I guess… I guess we all have to find out for ourselves what puts the brakes… on our bad behavior. It’s funny, because, like I told you, when I was a kid I was afraid to misbehave in school, just out of fear of the paddle. Now here I am, a grown woman, and I find out that getting my tail set on fire is the one thing that gets to me.”
Clay kissed her on the forehead. “And we know why we’re doing this.”
Libby put her arms around his waist and squeezed him tightly, then began to giggle. “And I can definitely feel evidence, that doing this is having an interesting effect on you. “
Libby had never seen Clay’s face so red, and enjoyed hearing him stutter as he began to speak. “I’m… I’m… I’m sorry about that.”
Even though she was still crying, Libby laughed at her husband. “It’s okay. And I have to confess, even if those crazy fingertips of yours would behave themselves, this would still be having some… let’s say… similar effects on me. I mean, it hurts like hell. And believe me, Mister Harris… I am being very thoroughly and well punished. Still, it’s just that… you know.”
Clay laughed and nodded. “Indeed I do. But we have to stay focused. As you said, we have to do this right.”
Libby exhaled a deep sigh and placed her head against his chest once more. “I understand. I have to look back on this so that the next time I start to go over the edge, I can think back to this day and ask myself if I ever want to go through that again.” She moved her head back and winked. “For real, I mean.”
Clay put his hands on her shoulders and leaned down to look her straight in the eyes. “You seem to understand perfectly, so can you guess what I’m about to say?”
Libby grimaced again and squeezed her eyes shut. “Let me guess… it’s a command… I think you’re about to say… Bend over, Libby.”
Clay kissed her on the lips. “Almost… but there’s a second part of the command.”
Libby looked at him with arched eyebrows. “And that second part would be…”
Clay kissed her again. “…and touch your toes.”
Libby looked at him with her eyes wide open and responded with a quiet whistle, then turned again to stand beside him and get back in position. Without waiting for him to say anything, she began to bend slowly, down and down until her fingertips were touching her painted toenails.
But before she felt any evidence of the paddle, Clay’s fingertips were once again engaging in their pleasurable explorations, bringing about a whirlwind of feelings as Libby could not help but to enjoy the intimate massage, even knowing that she was soon to receive another paddling.
Suddenly his fingers moved slowly away up through the crack of her bottom, causing her to shudder and feel chills throughout her body. Then, without warning and without any soothing stroking in advance, the paddle landed sharply and painfully just above where her bottom met her thighs, a whack that was harder and more painful than any she had felt that day. Quickly, another followed, then another, and another, and another, the last being much harder than those that preceded it.
The paddling had ended, but Libby was crying rather hard, and did not know that Clay had tossed the paddle several feet away. He reached for her shoulders and coaxed her to stand up, then picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. He placed her gently on her stomach, and lay down next to her and stroked her back and thighs to try to calm her.
She cried for some time, but with Clay’s right-hand stroking her back and thighs, she had a tight grip on his left hand, and held it to her lips as she lay there recovering. Clay felt that he had done what was necessary, and had done so with her consent. Still, it was unsettling to see the deep shade of crimson that covered her bottom.
Libby continued to sniffle and cry, even having a bout of hiccups in the midst of it all. But she stayed there on her stomach, content to enjoy the soothing touch of her husband’s hand, especially when it began to roam across the burning red cheeks. From the exhaustion of what she had just endured, physically and emotionally, combined with her disrupted sleep, Libby eventually dozed while snuggled up next to Clay.
* * * * *
Although it was just late afternoon, the height of the trees surrounding the cabin blocked the sun, dimming the light in the cabin. Two hours after she had fallen asleep, three hours after the paddle last stung her bottom, Libby began to stir. Immediately upon waking, she sucked in her breath and reached back to her still fiery backside.
To his immense relief, Libby looked over to Clay and greeted him with a dreamy smile. He turned over onto his side and pulled her close for a kiss. “I was afraid that when you woke up you might hate me. ”
Libby shook her head as she stroked the hair on his chest. “I have to confess something. When I walked into that naughty looking store with the window displays advertising things for couples, and I saw that paddle hanging on a rack at the back of the store… I knew very well that if I bought it, it would end up getting used for some serious smacking of my fanny. I know myself… it was just a matter of time.” She began to giggle. “I just thought it would have taken longer for us to need it… but oh, well.”
Still smiling, she reached back and resumed rubbing her bottom. “I must say… I think we need to give that paddle a rest for a while, assuming of course that I don’t get into more trouble.”
Clay shook his head as he began to stroke her bottom again. “Could you possibly be capable of any more bad behavior?”
Libby sat up and pulled her nightie over her head and tossed it to the floor, then scooted over on the bed next to Clay and began to move her hand down his chest to his abdomen, and inside the waistband of his pajamas as she began to lower them. “Oh yes… I’m ready for some very bad behavior right now.”
THE END.
Carl Hamlin
Carl Hamlin’s first Blushing Books story was The Inheritance in the late spring of 2012. Writing that story convinced him that authoring spanking erotica would be a very enjoyable pursuit.
Carl’s goal in writing a work of spanking erotica is, of course, the reader’s enjoyment. He strives for two primary qualities in a spanking scene: first of all, that the female reader can imagine herself in the situation of receiving the spanking and secondly, that a male reader can imagine himself administering that spanking. He loves to explore the potential storylines provided by our internal conflicts regarding a subject that our society cannot seem to decide whether to embrace or deny. He finds that a character’s mode of revealing that there is a formerly concealed connection between pain and pleasure is the means for a dramatic turning point in such fiction.
He enjoys the challenge of coming up with storylines that readers will find exciting, enjoyable or even humorous. After all, Carl hopes that the reader will finish one of his stories, lean back with closed eyes and think, “If only I could be the one in that story who-”
Carl lives in a small Midwestern city, spending most of his free time with family and enjoying the outdoors.
Don’t miss these other exciting titles by Carl Hamlin and Blushing Books:
The Apprentice
Dragos Falls
Lindsay's Turn to Sing
Generation Gap
Red Sun Resort
Return to Wilder
Hannah's Novel Idea
Sharing
Kara's View of Autumn
Capital Punishment
The Promise
The Inheritance
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Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
About Carl Hamlin
eBook Offer
Blushing Books Newsletter
About Blushing Books
