Let me count the ways (F/f)
Gailg...@aol.com
Grown ups only...
Let me count the ways.....the many ways...I hate THE PADDLE !!
1. I hate the sight of The Paddle. The Paddle is made of light but
thick wood, a cherry color, about four inches wide, eight long with a
handle. The Paddle is hung on the wall in the study, where anyone can see
it and whenever I see The Paddle my behind tingles in fear, especially if I
see The Paddle in Mom's hand!
2. I hate the history of The Paddle. Mom spanked my bare bottom, across
her lap, with her hand until I turned 12 years old. For a year after that,
Mom spanked me with a small plastic hairbrush which stung plenty...but not
enough for Mom's tastes.
So when I turned 13 and got into trouble, Mom postponed my punishment
for a day while she had Dad make a paddle...The Paddle...in his shop. She
described the kind of paddle she wanted, right in front of me, and Dad
delivered, right down to the small leather loop through the handle (to hang
The Paddle) and MY name engraved on the face of the spanking tool.
Mom likes to hang The Paddle so that my name is showing, and MY paddle
has become family lore.
3. I hate the feeling of The Paddle - part one. I hate it when Mom
makes me fetch The Paddle for some of my spankings. I have to carry The
Paddle to her, and the feeling of hefting it in my own hands is devastating,
knowing I'm holding the very thing which will soon blister my bare bottom.
4. Which brings us to how much I hate that The Paddle is ALWAYS used on
my bare backside. When I say "bare" I mean TOTALLY bare below the
waist...stripping down like that is mortifying. And when I say "backside"
I mean my WHOLE backside, as Mom slaps the sensitive backs of my thighs as
much as my buns!
5. I hate the feel of The Paddle - part two. There is no way to
describe the sting, the burn, the blister of that smooth wood paddling my
bare behind. No matter how often I'm spanked, those first few SMACKS of The
Paddle are FAR worse than I imagined....
Being paddled feels like sitting on a beehive...or like the time I had a
firecracker go off in my hand...instant explosion of searing pain..only
getting a paddling is like fifty distinct firecrackers on my butt!
6. I hate the sound of The Paddle. Mom spanks hard and the loud SLAP of
The Paddle is deafening. Some blows glance and SWAT....others just hurt and
THUNK...but the worst land clean and hot on my naked skin and sound like a
pistol shot.. CRACK...loud enough to be heard next door, to my shame.
7. I hate how The Paddle reduces me. Simply hearing Mom threaten, "Do I
need to get The Paddle?" reduces me to simpering, "No Momma, I'll be good I
swear..." and just seeing The Paddle in Mom's hand reduces me to silent
tears.
But worse yet is how the fire-hot paddle spanks reduce me to a begging,
bawling, babbling mess. First I go through the begging part, "Oh, PLEASE
DON'T PADDLE meeee...." and "STOP OH STOP IT HURTS IT BURNS"....then the
bawling part, just wide open wailing punctuated with shrill screams....
And finally babbling, "WWWAWSSSTOOPBABAAAAAAAAWWAAAANNNOOO"
And then my spanking dance...when my WHOLE world is reduced to just my
scorched fanny while I rub and prance around the room shrieking at the
ceiling...showing ALL my charms.
8. And finally, I hate how my poor bottom looks after a dose of The
Paddle. My tender firm little buns are swollen twice their usual size with
puffy burning red marks and tiny white blisters, especially on the tops of
my thighs. I know, cuz I always look at my marked backside in the mirror
before I collapse on the bed to touch myself.
domino
> Let me count the ways.....the many ways...I hate THE PADDLE !!
Excellent story - verywell sustained, and with a marvellous
throw-away coment to end on :-)
love
domino
Switchmaybe(BG)
Brian
--
Switchmaybe - Maybe he will, Maybe he won't, but he might!
Expat51
> Let me count the ways.....the many >ways...I hate THE PADDLE !!
A lovely descriptive piece.
Just thank your lucky stars that your Mom didn't have access to a Cane :-)
Regards,
Peter