Lindsay's Turn to Sing

by Carl Hamlin

  Even under the tense circumstances, Lindsay managed to giggle. “I know what effect it has on you and when this is over, and I’m settled down enough, we really need to screw each other’s eyes out. “

  Gerald ran his fingers through her hair. “It’s a date.” Then he stepped away.

  Lindsay felt as if reality was no longer in her grasp. Everything seemed so surreal as Gerald walked two steps to take his place next to the table. Then she felt the paddle being lifted from her bottom, and her whole body began to tremble. She understood the fear she was feeling, but was mystified by the equally present anticipation. And the not-insignificant level of desire she was feeling may not have been welcome at the moment, but it was undeniably present.

  Even though the black silky fabric was not even covering the lower half of her bottom, she felt Gerald’s warm hand gently sweeping up onto the middle of her back. In both of their sessions of spanking play, whether with his hand or the paddle, Gerald had seen to it that nearly every single whack landed on her sitting zone. She had no reason to believe it would be any different this time. That was confirmed when she felt the paddle being gently stroked back and forth on the lower section of her backside.

  As Gerald drew the paddle backward, he could not see the eyes squeezed shut, the teeth clenched and the face scrunched up and ready to feel a shock. A second later, Lindsay found that her concern was justified. As a simultaneous CRACK and an exclamation of “Yeeeeech” escaped the clenched teeth as a fiery sting engulfed the tender bottom flesh.

  Once again Lindsay felt the paddle rest against her bottom as Gerald took aim and also provided a warning. The paddle was once again withdrawn, but then returned on the very same spot, and with just as much force. The sharp crack of the paddle making contact with Lindsay’s tender and intimate place was followed a split second later by a wailing cry of “Ahoooow.”

  This time, Gerald prefaced the next swing of the paddle with the familiar circular stroking that he felt may alleviate some of Lindsay’s anxiety. But when he applied the small board with the sting holes to the already burning target, all that he heard after the sharp retort was Lindsay loudly squealing “Ouch”.

  Lindsay knew her husband well. After three hard smacks, his will to continue was faltering. Hearing her cry out in pain as a result of his paddling her, was unnerving at the least. As he patted the paddle against her bottom once again, he had to mentally relive her admonishment to him, that he needed to go through with this because she needed him to. He took a deep breath, swung the paddle backward, and brought it down on her burning bottom yet again, and Lindsay yelped from the sting.

  Once again the paddle was being glided back and forth across the ravaged red flesh, to be followed seconds later by a loud POW and a just as loud “Oooowwww”. The paddle returned with the circular motions, and another loud POW echoed in the large room, followed by “Eeeeeyooooww.” But what also followed that whack was the sound of Lindsay sobbing loudly, and Gerald saw her reaching with fumbling, frantic fingers for the tissue box, knocking it to the floor in the process of retrieving a tissue to wipe the now freely flowing tears.

  Gerald was being bombarded by mixed emotions as he resumed tapping the paddle against her. As their conversation at the doorway of their friends came back to him, he decided to give Lindsay all that she had asked for. Five seconds later, the only sound in the room was Lindsay’s crying until POW – POW – POW – POW – POW - WHAM.

  Lindsay’s sobbing intensified as Gerald walked back to sit down again in front of her. His heart was breaking as he reached to the floor and retrieved the box of tissues, pulled one out and gave it to her. It was quickly soaked through with her tears, so he handed her another and another after that as she blew her nose and wiped her face.

  When she put the tissue down and looked into Gerald’s eyes, it was a moment that made Gerald melt. Her gaze was not one of hurt or anger. It was one of relief, even gratitude. All that Gerald knew was that they were silently and simultaneously leaning toward each other and then their lips met. The kiss seemed sweetened by the salty taste of Lindsay’s tears. They separated for a second, and Gerald leaned forward enough that they could put their arms around each other’s necks. This time, as they kissed, Gerald was surprised when he felt Lindsay’s tongue pressing its way to meet his.

  Gerald thought that for a split second, he was forgetting the task at hand. When their lips separated, Gerald spoke in a tone that was almost apologetic. “Ready to see what’s in that box?”

  Lindsay took a deep breath and nodded. “Mumhum.”

  Gerald got up slowly and walked to the kitchen counter. He picked up the box and shook it, and the resulting sound did nothing to diminish his assumption that his special delivery had indeed arrived. He walked to a drawer and retrieved a pocketknife and returned to the dining room and returned to his chair facing Lindsay.

  In seeing him holding the box on his lap, Lindsay’s formerly serene expression changed to one of apprehension. Gerald opened the knife and began cutting the packing tape all around the box. As he worked, Lindsay once again felt her pulse quickening, and in spite of what she had already been through, the butterflies were working overtime in her abdomen, and in spite of the soreness, she could actually feel her bottom tingling with anticipation as it had done during their play sessions.

  For Lindsay laying there watching with her flaming bottom propped up in the air and awaiting what promised to be the worst yet, it was seeming to take forever for the box to be opened. When Gerald opened the box lid, Lindsay’s heart felt as if it were going to leap out of her chest.

  At first, all she could see was a mass of blue packing peanuts. But Gerald’s fingers brushed them away to reveal a flat wooden instrument, one that was soon to be used on her bare bottom. There was one question driving her to distraction, and as the packing pieces continued to be moved aside her question was answered. She gasped when she saw that the much larger paddle also had holes.

  As the paddle was raised from the box, she saw that it was also much larger than the one she had just experienced painfully and repeatedly. Gerald placed it on the edge of the table right in front of her, and her eyes were as large as saucers as she scanned the obviously well used paddle, covered by the scribbled signatures of previous victims.

  Lindsay looked the paddle over, her eyes wide open and her jaw dropping. She turned it over, to find the other side also covered with signatures. She raised her head slowly, and her expression had turned to one of as much of amusement as dread. She seemed almost unable to speak. “A school paddle? A real honest to goodness school paddle? Oh my, my, my.”

  Gerald nodded. “What do you say to that?”

  Lindsay shrugged. “Ouch?”

  Gerald stared at the discarded box on the floor, then reached down and picked up an envelope he had not noticed. “This must be from the woman in Texas who sold it to me on eBay.” He glanced up at Lindsay, who was still looking at the board with wide eyes. He opened the envelope and pulled out a letter, written in hand on both sides of a sheet of scented feminine stationary. “Shall we take the time for me to read this?”

  In spite of her pain from the paddling she had already received, and her apprehension in awaiting yet another paddling with the latest surprise arrival, Lindsay managed to flash a mischievous smile, and then nodded. “I won’t be able to stand it, if you don’t read that letter before you start whacking me again with this scary thing. It hurts just looking at it.”

  Gerald unfolded the letter, then leaned toward Lindsay and started reading in a quiet voice.

  “Dear Mr. Briggs,

  I hope that my father’s old paddle arrived in good condition. He is retired, and I am helping him to dispose of some of his possessions. I don’t know if you have bought this as a collectors’ item, a novelty, or for its actual intended use.

  My father was a principal in our rural Texas school district for over 30 years. When he became a principal in 1975, he went to the shop teacher and asked if some of t
he boys could craft him a good quality paddle. The result of that request is now in your hands.

  Even before my father was hired by the school, it was a tradition that students who were paddled were invited to sign the board. Almost no one declined. That explains why the paddle is covered by all of those signatures.

  You can see that it has never been cracked or broken, although my father was known for paddling students sufficiently hard as to make them not wish to repeat the experience. You may not find many duplicate signatures.

  As you can see from the worn finish and the number of signatures, this paddle was frequently put to use. Not only was it used often and well, I can personally attest to the fact that it is a very effective and efficient tool of correction.

  Being the principal’s daughter, I was expected to be at least a moderately good student, but one who was absolutely, and without exception, well behaved. I adhered to that expectation until the latter part of my senior year, when I had turned 18 and thought that I was suddenly living under a different set of rules.

  With a few weeks of school left in the spring of 1999, some of us decided it would be logical to do a senior skip day. Instead of going into the school building that morning, seven of us piled ourselves into a van, drove around town for a while then headed back toward the school and parked a block away. We headed for a back door of the school, with the intent of timing our late arrival with the changing of classes. We thought we were so clever. Having a few minutes to kill, one of the girls broke out a pack of cigarettes, and we all decided to have a smoke. That was when a janitor came around to the back of the school to see why the smell of smoke was coming in through a ventilation intake.

  We were all marched to the office, my father’s office. There I was, the principal’s daughter, good student and cheerleader for the football team waiting outside his office.

  Suddenly the door flew open, and there stood my angry father. He didn’t look at anyone else, just glared at me. He called us all into his office, and began the questioning. We all confessed immediately, for there was no alternative.

  As we all stood there nervously, a group of popular kids including three of us girls who were senior cheerleaders, he reached up on top of a filing cabinet and retrieved the paddle you now possess. He took one of the boys by the arm, then told the rest of us to go outside the office and get in line, but with one caveat – he wanted to take care of me last.

  The rest of us filed out somberly, and three guys took the first spots in the line. Suddenly we heard a gruff command to ‘bend over and touch your toes’. Next there was a loud crack and a grunt of pain. Another followed, and another attempt to subdue a shout of pain. The poor guy could not hold it together through the five cracks, and when he emerged, his face was red and he was wiping his eyes. It was pretty much the same with the next three guys.

  The other girls were starting to panic, but still hoping that Dad was going to go easier on them. I think they really knew that I was done for.

  I had accepted my fate, but the other two girls were starting to cry harder as the last of the fellows emerged from the office in major distress. All three of us wished we had worn corduroy slacks instead of our well-worn jeans.

  The first girl went in, and I could hear her being told twice to bend over. Dad paddled her just as hard as the boys. She emerged with tears running down her face, then the other of my female co-conspirators went in and also received five whacks she would never forget.

  When she emerged pressing a tissue to her eyes, I hustled into the office as to not appear to be stalling. As soon as I entered the office, Dad dismissed the secretary from her duty as a witness. Without a second of hesitation, Dad picked up the paddle from his desk. Without waiting for the command, I walked to the open area of the room and bent over and touched my toes. Then Dad proceeded to express his displeasure with my behavior – ten times.

  When Dad got home from school that evening, we ate dinner in a subdued mood. Dad was still angry, and I suspected that my backside was still in jeopardy, although I was still feeling every one of those whacks. I did not know that my father had brought the paddle home from school, and handed it to my mother. She brought it to my room just before bedtime. That was when I found out just how effective my father’s paddle was on a bare backside.

  Best regards,

  Jennifer C.

  Gerald had avoided glancing at Lindsay as he read the letter. When he did fold the letter and drop it back down into the box, Lindsay shook her head slowly and muttered, “Oh my gosh. I think this is what you call karma.” She said nothing more, but simply picked up the paddle and handed it to Gerald.

  He took the paddle in his hand, rose from the chair and resumed his place at the side of the table. Lindsay sucked in her breath and she felt the school paddle being tapped against the lower portion of her bottom. When she felt it leave, she again clenched her teeth and closed her eyes in preparation of the loud WHAM that brought an instant torrent of tears as the holes in the board were distinctly imprinted on the tender flesh. Seconds later, she suffered an identical meeting of her behind and the latest result of Gerald’s proficiency in shopping on the Internet.

  The third fiery crack caused Lindsay to squeal loudly, and even in her panic, she mused as to whether the Texas mother or Gerald paddled harder. Gerald was sizzling her butt, but she suspected for some reason that this particular Texas mother would have held her own in comparison.

  The fourth time Lindsay felt the burning bite of the aged paddle, she broke into sobbing that continued into the next and final, as well as the hardest impact of the board. Gerald then rested the paddle on the table and returned to the chair to face Lindsay.

  He handed her a new tissue, but she was crying so hard it was immediately soaked through. He reached for another, and began to dry her face, although her crying did not appear to be diminishing at all.

  He waited a couple more minutes to even try to talk to her, as she was still crying heavily and the tears were still flowing freely. Lindsay tried to speak, only to find herself wracked by crying induced hiccups. Although she was in intense pain, her faltering attempts to speak prompted her to begin laughing. Finally giving up, she shook her head, took hold of Gerald’s hands and rested her turned head upon them.

  When the sobbing had slowed to intermittent sniffling, Lindsay raised her head and looked at Gerald. Tears were still running down her cheeks, but she was finally in control of her breathing. “I take it the ones with our newest and most wicked paddle were for Patty?”

  “Uhm hum. That’s right.”

  Lindsay again placed her head on Gerald’s hands, and closed her eyes as she lapsed back into the quiet and soft crying. With her right hand, she reached back and began to gently rub her crimson bottom. When her hand at first reached the handiwork of two paddles, she winced and cried out. She looked toward Gerald and spoke in a quiet voice: “Somebody got her butt thoroughly paddled this evening.” Gerald was surprised to see a smile on Lindsay’s face as she continued “And she really had it coming.” Lindsay lowered her head and kissed one of Gerald’s hands. “Fortunately, she has someone willing to use a paddle on her when she needs it…….and even better; he seems to have quite a natural talent for its proper use.”

  Gerald began to rub his right hand over her shoulder and upper back. “Babe, you’ve been through a lot this evening. Do you want to get off this table, or do you want to stay here for a little while and let everything cool off?”

  Lindsay reached for his hand still resting on the table and gave it a squeeze. “I am not in any hurry to move.”

  “Do you want me to remove those pillows from under your waist to at least make you more comfortable?”

  Lindsay shook her head and smiled. “Maybe that thing will just cool off better sticking up in the air like that.”

  Gerald nodded. “Want me to make up a matched set of ice bags?”

  Lindsay sighed. “Thanks, but I think that part of a good paddling must be to have to feel the
aftereffects for a while.”

  Gerald leaned forward and kissed her. “As you wish, but maybe I should at least kiss it and make it better.”

  Lindsay nodded as a smile slowly appeared. “I think that would be quite nice.”

  Gerald stood and placed his right hand on the nape of Lindsay’s neck. As he walked to the side of the table he slowly slid his hand down her spine as chills began to race up and down her back. They were only heightened when the hand continued its downward path and not stop until it had begun to caress the insides of her cheeks. As the hand crept down further and Lindsay suddenly felt herself being lovingly fondled, Gerald leaned down and began planting tickling, teasing kisses on every square inch of the warm red flesh that was still throbbing and enveloped in the lingering sting.

  Gerald heard Lindsay begin to moan, but instead of continuing he walked back to the front of the table and sat down again. He began to massage Lindsay’s shoulders with both hands, and was amused at the surprised expression on her face. She arched her eyebrows and cocked her head. “And just what was that all about?”

  Gerald shrugged with a teasingly nonchalant air. “Nothing really. Maybe just a little something to take your mind off how much your bottom hurts right now. On the other hand, it could be a little preview of what could happen in a little while if you would so desire.” Gerald continued the soothing motions on her shoulders and upper arms. “I’m open as to the rest of this evening.”

  Lindsay laughed. “I love that trait of flexibility you possess.”

  Suddenly Lindsay noticed that Gerald was softly laughing. “Now what are you laughing at?”

  Gerald grinned as he continued to knead her still tensed up muscles. “It was your use of the word flexible. I was just remembering how, after the first couple of times we made love, I was so impressed by how flexible you are in bed. It just adds to it all.”

  Lindsay found herself intrigued by his comment. She reached out to touch his chest. “Please. Go on.”