The Paddle Club: A Fun, Romantic and Erotic Spanking Novel

by Kohler, Susan

  “Hey!” Randy teased. “You don’t seem all that happy to see us. You should at least try to sound like you mean it. Weren’t we good to you?”

  “Don’t let him bother you, Sharon,” Christie added, gently taking her arm. “After all, we’re all in the same boat tonight and I, for one, am glad to see a familiar face.”

  “Besides, I think I owe you two a little payback.” Sharon regained her spirits as Alan walked over to join her. “And you two aren’t the only ones. I just wish I knew who my former Master and mistress were.”

  “You’ll figure it out soon enough,” Christie assured her. “They’re both pretty hard to miss.”

  Sharon did indeed figure it out as soon as she saw Mac and Sarah. Everything about them was so obvious; she felt foolish that she hadn’t recognized them from the Casino Night. In fact, it was a wonder they had bothered with wearing the masks at all that weekend. His superb build and blazing blue eyes, and her bright red hair and sparkling green eyes gave them away instantly.

  Her Master’s identity was confirmed when she heard his soft whisper in her ear, “Hello, my little slave. Long time no spank. Miss me?” She turned around, surprised to see Mac standing so close beside her. He smiled warmly at her and handed her a glass of champagne before slapping her sharply on the ass.

  “Hi Alan.” He turned to Alan. “I see Sarah and I didn’t manage to scare her off after all.”

  “Hi Alan, Sharon,” Sarah greeted the pair. “I’m glad to see you two again. Welcome to the club, Sharon.”

  They followed the tradition of having the new members whip the club members first. To Sharon’s surprise, she liked it. She realized quickly that she liked giving whippings a lot more than being on the receiving end. Randy and Christie both did okay at giving whippings too. The old members had a real hot time of it. Almost all of them, no matter how experienced, were sitting gingerly after that part of the initiation

  After another glass of champagne for everyone, it was time for Sharon to undergo her initiation. All through her whipping Sharon struggled. She flinched and squirmed, her blue eyes as big as an owl’s, but she didn’t scream or make any outcry.

  “That cane sure hurts more than a paddle!” she exclaimed, gently rubbing her butt. She laid face down on the padded chaise.

  After a break for refreshments, Christie was next. She bore her initiation well, yelling only a little. Once she had moved away from the whipping bench, there was another short break for refreshments and Randy was next. His mischievous smile faded as soon as the birching began. He yelled much louder than Christie had, and tears formed in his eyes. He apparently was luckier at betting on football than Christie was, and because of that he’d had less practice at being the person on the receiving end of the whip.

  Alan rode home with Sharon in the limousine. He carried her gently into the house and up to the bed.

  “Thank you for joining the club.” He kissed her. “I know you’re still not too sure about it.”

  “I think it’s going to be okay.” She grinned up at him. “But I realized something tonight.” “What’s that?” He looked innocent.

  “I like doing the spanking and whipping a lot better than being on the receiving end,” she said firmly. “Somehow I already knew that,” he grinned, “when you paddled me on our last night as slaves.” “Did I hurt you?” She was wide-eyed and concerned. “Not enough for me to ask you to stop,” he told her. “But don’t think you’re going to get away with that all the time.”

  “I just wish I’d gotten my hands on that former Master of mine.” She dreamed of getting a bit of revenge. “I’d love to have him under my whip.”

  “Be glad you got to whip Sarah,” he warned her. “Mac is seldom on the receiving end. He’s a complete Dom. Did he ever really hurt you?”

  “No. It was weird now that I look back on it. He always seemed to know just how far to take things, both the slavery and the punishments. I felt like I was taken to the edge of my limits and yet there were no bruises, no real pain and no real humiliation.”

  “That’s why I asked Mac to make sure he bought you,” Alan confessed. “He’s got a real knack for reading people. It’s almost uncanny. He always knows how far to go.”

  “I’ve been wondering why you wanted someone else to give me my first spanking. It was almost as weird as if you had wanted someone else to take my virginity,” Sharon said. “Tell me, why?”

  “I knew that Mac would know if you were interested, and he would know how to read your feelings, to make everything right for you,” Alan explained. “Besides, I’m really a sub. I’m a better victim than a Master. I don’t know if you realized it, but being a Master was a lot of work. He had to find things to keep you occupied all weekend, both work for you to do and ways to make sure that you got into trouble often enough to deserve punishment.”

  “I never thought about it like that. Well, at least we make a good pair.” She reached up to him, a wicked gleam in her eyes, “I’m a Dom and you are a sub, my sub. Now make love to me and make it good or I’m going to have to make things very painful for you.”

  “Yes my love, my mistress.” He lowered his mouth, hovering just slightly over her. He slid his arms under her legs and lowered his mouth to the moist junction of her silky thighs. “I’ll do my best.”

  The next day they went sailing. Sharon packed a picnic basket with lunch and a few surprises, plus she stocked the boat’s galley and they set off to find a little privacy on the high seas. They found a quiet cove off one of the islands near Santa Barbara and dropped anchor.

  Sharon luxuriated in the feel of the warm sun on her bare back as she lay on the deck. “Hey Alan!” she called. “What?” his voice drifted up from the cabin.

  “Get your worthless behind out here and rub some sun block on me,” she ordered. “You’d better not let me burn.”

  Alan was shocked at the tone she was using; it was so different from her usual loving voice. He hurried up on deck and began to rub lotion on her. He worked his way gently down from the nape of her neck to the base of her spine before she stopped him. “Do my legs next, and do a good job of it,” she ordered sternly, rolling over.

  He moved down to her toes, rubbing the lotion with painstaking care and gentleness over her feet, ankles and calves.

  “Now do my thighs,” she moaned. “Be sure to get the inside of my thighs.”

  He smoothed the sunscreen on her thighs very slowly. The front of her thighs, the outside, even lifting her legs at the knee and smoothing lotion on the backs of her thighs. Finally he moved to the inside of her thighs and spent a delicious eternity moving ever so slowly up from her knees towards the moist center of her femininity, his fingertips lightly teasing the crotch of her swimsuit. She shivered.

  Abruptly he stopped and asked her to roll over. He began at the small of her back rubbing lotion in tiny, gentle circles. She lifted herself up and he slid the bottom of her swimsuit off, and unfastened the top half.

  Finally, he moved to her buttocks. He rubbed the lotion gently over her with devastating thoroughness, even working his way into the crack between her nether cheeks. His fingers brushed her anus and found her vagina. Then he poured a large glob of lotion on the crest of each check of her buttocks and without warning spanked her bottom sharply until the lotion was worked into her warm skin.

  She turned over and he moved down to her feet, working his way up her front. He skipped over her breasts and her tight vagina until he had finished every square inch of her skin. Then he plunged into her and made love to her with a fever he had seldom felt before.

  Later that afternoon Alan dozed on deck as Sharon went below and got a few items out of the lunch basket. Working quietly she handcuffed him to the boat rail, as he lay on his stomach. He woke up when she poured a bucket of seawater on his backside. “Sharon! What are you up to?” he demanded.

  “I thought you were all too familiar with those hands of yours when you rubbed on my suntan lotion,” she told him sternly. “And
you had the utter gall to spank me while I was covered with sunscreen. I also don’t remember being asked if I wanted to make love. I’ve decided you need to learn a little discipline.”

  She poured more cold water over his butt, and then whipped him with a wide hemp rope that she had soaked in seawater. She used it fairly harshly but not with any desire to raise welts. The whipping gave him an erection. After a while he rolled over to show it to her. “I suppose you think I should take care of that for you.” She gestured at his erect penis.

  “Well, if you don’t mind, my love mistress.” He met her eyes with a soft gaze. “I guess if I caused the erection, I should be the one to take care of it for you,” she sighed dramatically before she lowered her mouth to his cock.

  “I want to be inside you,” he managed to get out before all rational thought fled.

  “Next time,” she had a glint in her eyes as she raised her mouth just enough to say, “my love, next time.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven Betting On Your Future

  Christie and Randy cuddled up in bed after their initiation, basking in the afterglow of lovemaking and talking about the club. Christie was idly stroking Randy’s chest as they talked and soon, thumbing his nipples without a thought, never even realizing she was doing anything, she began to rub her foot gently up and down his calf.

  Randy didn’t stand for this careless treatment very long. With a fierce growl, he rolled Christie over onto her back and grasped both of her hands in one of his, holding them up over her head. Directing her, without words, to grip the brass bars at the head of the bed.

  “Wait here,” he ordered, slipping out of bed. “Do not move, especially your hands.”

  He returned with a vibrator that he used with intimate intensity and complete thoroughness on every inch of her writhing body. Almost every inch of her body. He avoided the one area of her body that screamed out for the relief and release that he could give her. Finally at long last, he buried the vibrator deep inside her and left it there.

  “Don’t move, stay right where you are,” he ordered sternly, slipping once more from the bed. “I’ll show you what you get for teasing me.”

  She heard a ripping sound and turning her head, saw Randy tearing a sheet into long strips. A thought formed in the back of her head, he wouldn’t, or would he? He would. He did. In a flash she was tied hand and foot to the four-poster bed, the vibrator still in place, whirring gently in her warm pussy and sending shivers throughout her whole body. “Randy, I can’t do anything to you, for you, when I’m tied up like this,” she whimpered.

  “Yes, you can.” He kissed her forehead gently and stroked her hair, his mock anger gone. “You can receive the pleasure I want to give you, the love I want to show you. You’re giving me joy by receiving the pleasure. There will be other times for you to pleasure me.”

  Her only answer was a moan as she lost the power of speech, the power of thought, and only sensation remained. It went on forever; he used his hands, his mouth, and the vibrator on every inch of her lovely body. By the time he was finished both Christie and the sheets were covered with evidence of his passion.

  The next morning she woke up feeling wonderful and stiff. Looking over at Randy, she noticed that at least part of him was stiff too. Without bothering to wake him up, she lowered her mouth over his erection, driving him crazy before he even opened his eyes. “Good morning,” he said, sated and content.

  “Good morning,” she told him with a gleam in her eyes. “Do you have any plans for the day or can we relax in bed?” “I vote for relaxing,” he kissed her deeply, “or at least staying in bed. Somehow, I don’t think relaxing will be a big part of it.”

  They started to play with each other. It was tender and gentle play, with the majority of their lust and passion temporarily abated and the tenderness and love between them in full bloom.

  As they cuddled together, Christie asked with studied casualness, “Are we still going to the football game tomorrow?”

  “Sure,” he looked at her, aware of something in her tone, “unless you have a better idea.”

  “No. I want to go.” She kissed him. “Are we going with Bill and Vicki?”

  “Of course.” He shot her a sideways glance. “Why are you asking?”

  “I was just wondering who opened her big mouth and got us invited to the club,” Christie said petulantly. “I’ll bet it was Vicki.” “It worked out okay, didn’t it?” Randy asked gently. “So why

  are you mad?” “I’m not mad, really,” Christie said slowly, “it’s just that I wish she didn’t blab about our personal business so much. If it hadn’t worked out okay, I’d arrange a little payback.” “Forget Vicki. We’ll explain about respecting confidences tomorrow,” Randy said. “And let Bill know she’s a blabbermouth.”

  “And now onto the next order of business,” Christie grinned. “Want to have a bet on the football game?” “If you want to. The usual stakes?” he asked casually.

  “I thought just this once we’d make it a blind bet. Winner names the stakes after the game is over, no limits,” she suggested, her eyes wide and innocent.

  “You have something up your sleeve,” he accused. “I’ve seen that look before. That wide-eyed innocence is an act.” “Randy, my love, I’m naked, remember? No sleeves at all.” She looked at him wide-eyed and innocent. “Don’t you trust me? Besides, isn’t there anything you’d like to have me do? Anything you could name as stakes if you won. Remember, you almost always win. I’m the one taking a real chance here.”

  “Why do I think that if you win the stakes are going to be astronomical? There’s something you really want,” Randy relented, “but there’s something I really want too. It’s a bet. Let’s shake on it.” “Forget that.” Christie grabbed for him. “I’d rather fuck on it.”

  They woke early Sunday morning. Randy nuzzled Christie’s neck and mumbled, “Are you sure we have to get up? I could just lie here all day.”

  “I’m sorry, Love, but as hard as it is for me to admit, I have needs that you can’t fulfill here in this bed,” Christie told him, pushing him away. “What needs?” Randy said, his voice rising. He reached for her again.

  “Right now, a toilet, a toothbrush, a shower and food come to mind.” She pushed him away, harder this time, and jumped out of bed running for the bathroom.

  “Can I join you in the shower?” Randy called after her when he heard the water running. “No, my love, you can start breakfast,” she mumbled back, talking around her toothbrush. “Put on some coffee. Oh! And there’s some of those refrigerator cinnamon rolls in the kitchen. Preheat the oven and put the rolls in a pie tin. Set the timer for 10 minutes and I’ll finish breakfast while you shower. I’m hungry!”

  While Randy had his shower, Christie made eggs and bacon, set the table and poured the coffee. By the time he got to the table everything was ready. They ate slowly and enjoyed their breakfast before arguing over the Sunday crossword puzzle. Then they took a long walk, hand in hand, before loading up the car with everything they needed for a great tailgate party. They had a barbecue, and some marinated chicken breasts, potato salad, chips and dip, cold beer and fresh apple pie.

  So, on the Sunday after their initiation ceremony, Christie and Randy were back at the stadium, side by side with Bill and Vicki. They gently reminded Vicki that even though it turned out alright, she was not required to gossip about them every chance she got. Vicki apologized and things between the friends got back to normal.

  As usual they had a bet on the outcome of the game but this time the bet was different, this time the stakes weren’t settled in advance. This time the winner could ask for absolutely anything he or she wanted.

  Christie wondered to herself if she really had the nerve to ask Randy for what she wanted, what she wanted more than anything in the world.

  It didn’t matter because as usual Randy won. He had the luck of the devil almost every time they bet on anything. She sighed with disappointment and wondered idly how many of these
bets she would lose before she would finally win. Just once.

  “So what are you going to ask me for?” she asked him, a little listlessly. “What do you want as your payoff?

  “A lot of things.” He leered at her and winked. “For starters, you can take me out to dinner, someplace very nice and very expensive. Of course, you can buy. After dinner, I’ll tell you what the real payoff is.”

  Over dinner, Randy asked her, “Christie, what would you have asked me for if you’d won the bet?”

  “I’ll never tell.” She gave him a smile full of mystery and devilment. “I’ll just have to win next time. It would have been a heck of a lot more than buying me dinner though, that’s for sure.”

  “I have something more in mind too.” Seeing her start to speak, he said quickly, “You’ll just have to wait.”

  She was more than a little disappointed when he suggested they go home after dinner without asking anything more of her. Oh well, she mused, maybe he’ll want something special in bed and that can’t be bad, it never was.

  They made love, and it was tender and sweet. They didn’t do anything that could even remotely be considered kinky. They didn’t need to; their love and passion was extraordinary.

  In the afterglow, when he recovered his breathing enough to talk, Randy said, “Okay, here’s the main thing I want as a payoff for the bet. It’s a biggie. I want you to marry me, have my kids and grow old with me. Will you?”

  “Of course I will.” She gazed at him, her eyes full of love and tenderness. “I’d never fail to pay off a bet. It would ruin my reputation.”

  “Would you tell me now what you wanted, if you had won?” Randy asked. “What was it you were taking such a risk for?”

  “I wanted to get married, to have your baby and to spend my life with you,” she admitted.

  “What do you want to bet the first one’s a girl?” Randy laughed as he pulled her towards him again.