The Warmest-ever Friday (M/F, public)
Ladybug
I've lurked for a couple of years.
I'd like to stay lurked, if you don't mind.
Here's a story I wrote.
Kind of a feeble thanks for the many wonderful
stories I've read.
"Ladybug"
Disclaimer
The following story describes the spanking of an
adult, by an adult, in front of other adults. If you are below legal
age, or if such material might offend you, don't read it.
The Warmest-ever Friday
One Friday evening during the spring of our junior year at Berkeley, Sarah,
Jill and I stood in the kitchen of our tiny rented house preparing supper.
Sarah was carefully rinsing the greens for one of her special salads. Her
hands were graceful and precise. A slender brunette, she presented the same
precise image through her wardrobe and grooming. But I knew Sarah well, and
she had a disconcerting streak of adventure: She was putting anchovies in
the salad, and she dated a raucous, long-haired soccer player named Brett.
Jill, who had found the house and commandeered the larger upstairs bedroom,
was chopping vegetables for a complex Thai dish, as spicy and exotic as Jill
herself. And the good old all-American cheer-leader type, brown-haired,
blue-eyed, ordinary Janni - that's me - I was trying to follow my
grandmother's recipe for apple pie. The crust was sticking to the rolling
pin, and as usual I wondered why I had ever started such an ambitious
project.
Probably because I enjoyed our Friday evenings and wanted to do my share. To
celebrate the end of a week of hard study, each of us usually invited a
guest to supper on Friday. Afterwards, we would relax with a few beers and
a bull session. Brett was always Sarah's guest; they were practically
engaged. My boyfriend Dave was another regular. He studied engineering and
was an ace Frisbee player. I liked his quirky sense of humour and quiet,
protective strength. Sometimes I felt he was a bit too quiet, but whenever I
attempted to stir him up, he seemed to withdraw.
Jill was the wild card. She brought home a different guy every weekend. On
that memorable Friday she told us about her latest.
"Povl's coming tonight."
"Pow vul? What's that, some kind of pill?"
"No, a guy. From Denmark. Spelled P-O-V-L." Jill spoke in bursts as she
chopped vegetables. "We met up at International House. You know, at the
Wednesday night social. We did the tango, and the jive. He was very good.
Not much to look at, kind of reddish hair and a receding hairline. Nice
hazel eyes. But wait until you see him move."
"You invited a dancer here?" I was surprised. Jill usually preferred overtly
masculine types.
"No, no, Povl's a grad student in economics. He just likes to dance. And
fence and sail. Great bod. Coordinated. Nice, firm lead."
"Yes, but can he make good conversation?" enquired Sarah in a prim, put-on
tone.
"Well, he makes good..... other stuff!" Jill shot back with her impish grin.
"Jill - you only met him two days ago!" Sarah and I pretended to be shocked,
but we knew and loved Jill. And we're talking about the beginning of the
1970s here. Free love was still in...and still safe.
As it turned out, we needn't have worried. Jill's newest lover was extremely
articulate, even if his English was slightly off-centre. And though he was
no gorilla, Povl gave an impression of fluidly controlled strength, both
mentally and physically. Polished, yes. Effete, no. Throughout dinner and on
into the evening, he was the natural focus as we all explored the
differences between Danish and American education, food, politics and
customs. Of course he came in for some close questioning about the
supposedly free-wheeling Danish attitudes to sex.
"So what do you open-minded Scandinavians do on evenings like this one?"
asked Brett. And somehow, a few minutes later we had all agreed to try
"Danish-Rules-Spin-The-Bottle". Acting on Povl's instructions, Jill passed
out pencils and lots of slips of paper.
"Now, all must write some embarrassing questions and some improper actions,"
explained Povl. Giggling and wisecracking, we wrote, crumpling each paper as
we completed it and tossing them to the centre of the floor. "We need lots.
One more apiece," encouraged Brett, "something really outrageous."
I mused. Outrageous... Outrageous....My most secret fantasy reared its head.
"Give someone a spanking" I scrawled impulsively, disguising my handwriting,
then scrunched the paper extra hard. Heart suddenly racing, I let my hair
swing forward to hide my blush and tossed the scrap in with the rest.
Dave stirred the papers and spread them in a circle around an empty coke
bottle. Which one held my secret? I couldn't tell.
We were to take turns spinning the bottle. We all agreed to perform or
answer whatever was on the paper fate selected for us. Povl even had us
swear a Danish oath, repeating after him. We couldn't make the sounds
properly, collapsing in laughter almost before we had begun.
Several hours later a number of secrets had been told; Brett had mimed a
scene from "Last Tango in Paris" with Sarah's stuffed dog as a partner; Povl
had kissed Sarah thoroughly; Dave had performed a strip tease; and a
protesting but laughing Jill had had to take a pee with all of us watching.
I had to "go down on someone for two minutes", and had modestly chosen Dave.
I think he was more embarrassed than I was. I certainly enjoyed Sarah and
Jill's admiring glances at the towering result of my efforts.
It was Povl's turn again. There were still lots of papers left. He spun the
bottle and picked up the slip it pointed to, smoothing the paper carefully
between strong, blunt fingers. His eyebrows lifted slightly. His mouth
twitched. Then he read out, "Give someone a spanking". I stared at the coke
bottle without seeing it, fear and excitement warring within. Pick me! Oh,
please, don't let him pick me! Blood pounded in my ears.
"...not my scene at all!" Jill was saying.
"...Sarah?" Povl was asking a question. "No thanks!" Sarah answered
promptly.
"Well, this is a very feminine handwriting. And I cannot a spanking give
unless someone gets one!" Povl complained. Then, "Janni, look at me,
please."
Blushing furiously, I met his eyes. Povl's expression was grave, his lips
pressed together, but his eyes were playful. "Janni, I think this is your
secret desire. I would like to spank you!"
So flustered that words failed me, I looked down.
Povl turned to Dave, "With your permission, David?"
"We're talking a spanking here, right? You won't hurt her?" Dave spoke
consideringly. I peeked out from underneath my eyelashes. He was watching me
closely.
"Oh, I'll make her bottom very hot, very painful, that is the theory of a
spanking, but no lasting harm will I do!" Povl promised.
"Go right ahead, Povl. Janni agreed to play along with the rest of us."
"Dave!" I squealed in protest, but to no avail.
"Why did you ask Dave's permission? You didn't ask Brett if you could kiss
me!" Sarah interrupted. She sounded almost resentful.
"A spanking is far more... intimate, " replied Povl, eyeing me
speculatively.
"Wuh...wait a minute," I managed to blurt out, "what about my consent?"
"I think you have already consented by writing this paper." Povl held my
gaze as he continued, deliberately, "Not to deny is also to consent, Janni.
Look in my eyes. Have you not wondered what it could be, hmm, to lie
helpless across a man's thighs? "
I couldn't answer. His perception and certainty robbed me of mine.
Povl rose. He unbuttoned his cuffs. In the sudden silence I watched the play
of the sinews in his wrists. On his forearms, red-gold hairs glinted in the
light. I looked away, scanning my circle of friends for some source of help,
conscious of the heat in my own face and the pulse beginning to throb
between my legs. David. Sarah. Brett. Jill. They were all watching me,
fascinated by my intense reactions.
Povl stepped over to my study desk (it was in the corner of the sitting
room, since I had the smallest bedroom.) He turned the straight chair
around. "Your Cliff Notes, Janni?" I nodded. "You study the lazy way!" he
gibed as he came back across the circle, reaching down to help me up from
where I sat crosslegged on the floor. I ignored his hand, but scrambled to
my feet. "Ah, rudeness as well," he commented dryly, his hand closing around
my wrist, "I believe a spanking is truly in order!"
He led me back to the chair and seated himself, his grasp on my wrist
tethering me at his side. "Come, Janni" he said, with a jerk of his head
towards his lap. "So!" He pulled my wrist firmly across his body while his
other hand pushed gently on my back. To my own surprise I followed his lead
pliantly, disposing myself over his hard thighs, my buttocks turned up, my
hair, fingers and toes brushing the floor. I wondered at my uncharacteristic
submission and felt vaguely grateful to Povl for sparing me any overt
choice.
My wrist was released. A forearm pressed heavily into the small of my back,
pinning me securely. He laid his right hand on my bottom. A warm palm
kneaded my flesh through thin cotton jeans and silky panties. My gratitude
vanished in a rebellious flash. I raised my head, speaking over my shoulder,
"You're enjoying this, you Danish pervert!"
"Yes, but naturally! I think also you plan to enjoy yourself, Janni, since
you call me a name to ensure I will punish you thoroughly. And I am a
gentleman, so I will not keep you waiting!" He immediately began a flurry of
spanks, each hard enough to make me jerk against his thigh, each stinging
impact followed rapidly by another.
When he stopped after several long minutes my bottom cheeks felt heated -
like my face. I tried to slide off his knee, reaching up to push his arm
away. "Let me up, Povl, you've had your fun."
"Dear girl, I have hardly begun!" he answered, effortlessly clamping the
offending arm to my side with one hand and reaching around me to unfasten my
jeans with the other.
"No!" I gasped, trying to wriggle my belly away from his hand.
"Yes, indeed!" Povl paused, undeterred, to give me a hard swat. Then, to my
friends, "A naughty girl must not only be made to burn - but also to feel
shame!" Deftly he worked first jeans, then panties, down to my knees. This
near-stranger who held me over his knee was displaying my naked bottom to my
closest friends, including my lover! Shame was undoubtedly the right word
for what I was feeling. I moaned and covered my face with my free hand.
Povl chuckled. "Just like an ostrich, Janni! We all see you, and you are a
delicious sight!"
"Now then, since you have been a bad girl, you shall have a proper
spanking." He caressed me as he spoke, running his fingertips lightly over
my lower back and then the backs of my thighs, as if to delineate his target
area.
Defiance flared up again. "Go right ahead you bastard! I'll get even with
you someday!"
As if in answer, the caressing hand lifted.
Crack! The first blow landed on the top of my unprotected right cheek. That
smarted! I yipped, then bit my lip. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction!
"Look at that color come up!" exclaimed Brett.
"It is all in the snap, you see," Povl explained genially, demonstrating
with a matching smack to the left side of my bottom.
"You've done this before?" asked Sarah in a tone of mixed admiration and
horror.
"Ya," answered Povl blithely, patting me patronizingly, "your friend Janni
is in the expert hands. And soon she will well know it, hmm Janni?" He
resumed spanking my defenceless bottom, his blows feeling much hotter on my
bare bottom. He spanked slowly now, but planted two or three spanks right in
the same spot before moving on. Hot and hotter. I concentrated on not crying
out. My thoughts spun. Heat. Watching eyes. Pain. Pleasure. Shame. My seat
burned: the tops of my cheeks, the sensitive undersides, the tops of my
thighs. Povl was thorough. I concentrated on not squirming against his
thigh, but oh, how I longed to!
At length he stopped. "Janni, do you have something to say?" he asked,
rubbing me hard. I was too bemused to answer, I could only feel.
Constrained. Stung. Exposed. Punished.
Povl spoke again, his firm, reassuring voice penetrating my confusion.
"Janni, I will accept your apology for your laziness now." I understood, and
again felt an odd gratitude for Povl's guidance through this shattering, yet
longed-for experience. I turned to look up at him, "I regret my laziness,
Povl. Please forgive me."
"Good girl!" I was rewarded with a mild slap that nonetheless caused me to
jump. Expecting to be released, I was appalled to hear Povl pronounce his
next sentence: "Now then, I must punish you for rejecting my gentlemanly
aid, and for calling me names. For your bad manners, you shall have twenty
spanks."
"No more, please, I can't, you can't!" I pleaded incontinently.
"On each side!" my tormentor added. "Begging is very unbecoming in a woman
of spirit, Janni."
Giggles from Sarah and Jill. I felt a wave of resentment, but dared not show
it. Povl began again. Crack! Pause. Smack! Pause. Landing on skin that was
already sensitised, each swat seemed unbearable. I strained to lie still, as
if unaffected, but it was impossible: I couldn't keep from wriggling to
escape what was coming to me. The unyielding grip around my waist was both
comfort and imprisonment; protection against my own weakness, as well as a
restraint to struggle against. My eyes watered. I wasn't crying! Heat pulsed
through my lower body. I lost count. I lost myself. In the storm of
sensations, pain was indistinguishable from the most humiliating pleasure.
Crack! Pause. Crack! At length he did stop. I sighed, or sobbed, I can't say
which. "Do you have something to say to me, Janni?" Silence. Oh. That was my
cue. "I'm sorry I was rude. Please accept my apology, Povl."
"You are forgiven, Janni." I sighed again, in relief. But his grip on my
waist did not relax, nor did the now kindly rubbing hand leave my burning
bottom. I was learning, and I remained silent and still, understanding that
Povl had not yet finished his game.
"David, will you come here for a moment?" invited Povl. I couldn't repress
my quiver of dismay, but there was no chance of escape, or of concealment.
"Put your hand here. Feel the heat. And there, see? Janni is telling us
something." Povl's hand had not left my bottom. It was Dave pushing his
fingers between my clenched thighs, finding the slippery moisture that
proclaimed my arousal. "Noooo," I moaned, squirming in desperation. Both
men ignored me.
"Jill, please give me the hairbrush out of your gym bag," Povl requested
politely. "Janni needs one more lesson."
He bent down and spoke to me softly; his breath warm on my ear; his tone
amused, almost indulgent. "Janni, dear girl, you have been very sly tonight.
It is your fault that your girlfriends ran the danger of getting the
spanking you secretly wanted. So I will now try if I can smack a little
honesty into you."
"Please, Povl, please, I'm sorry!" I couldn't help pleading. I had no desire
to make the acquaintance of Jill's hairbrush.
Povl straightened, and his tone sharpened. "You can't get out of this by
begging, Janni. You earned this punishment, and you shall have it."
His next words shook me, since I no longer had any illusions about the
strength of Povl's arm. Or his implacable determination.
"You shall have ten of the best I can give with the hairbrush. And then,
unless you wish for more, you will sit up," Smack! Povl punctuated his
orders with an admonitory spank with his hand. "You will show your face to
your friends," Smack! "and bare your secrets as completely as I have bared
your bottom." Smack! "I will not permit any dishonesty." Smack! "You will
tell us how you liked your spanking, and you will thank me properly" Smack!
"for giving it you."
Then he took the brush from Jill, and delivered a ringing blow to the jut of
my left cheek. The merciless hairbrush seemed to explode against my flesh.
How it hurt! My final shreds of self control vanished. I was whimpering by
the third blow, and sobbing during the last few. With utter helplessness
came utter freedom. Povl released me and turned me gently around to sit on
his lap. He murmured soothingly as he stroked my hair. I put my head on his
shoulder, sobs calming quickly to sniffles. My jeans hung around my ankles,
but the panties still festooned my knees rakishly. Dave knelt beside us.
When I dared to meet his eyes, I saw both fascination and intense arousal.
He brushed my tears away with his fingers. His lips rested briefly against
my temple. Sarah and Jill, I saw, were both in Brett's arms. All three were
watching me expectantly.
"Well Janni?" Povl's arm tightened warningly around my waist.
"I'll tell!" I said hurriedly. "I wrote that slip. I wanted a spanking. I've
fantasised about it for years. It hurt like hell and I loved it, both the
spanking and knowing you all were watching. It made me feel ... very sexy.
And I do thank you, Povl."
"Good girl! And what do you have to say to David?" prompted Povl.
I took a deep breath, turned to my lover and looked him straight in the eye.
"It's really you I've dreamed would spank me, Dave. When I'm asking for it."
My hands crept down to protect my rear, "but please, not right now!"
And we all burst out laughing.
Not much later, Sarah and Brett excused themselves and went upstairs. Jill
and Povl elected to go back to his apartment for the weekend. As they
prepared to leave, I thought Jill was looking unusually flushed and excited.
Dave and Povl stood near the door, Povl speaking rapidly in an undertone.
Dave glanced from Povl to me and back again. He clapped Povl on the
shoulder, "G'night you Viking barbarian!" He closed and locked the front
door, and started towards me with a diabolical grin and a determined gleam
in his eye. My bottom tingled in happy anticipation.
By Ladybug, 1999
================================================
Count no day as wasted when you waited your turn,
took no more than your share,
and sought advantage over no one.
_marycatherine
<snip>
>Hello SSS,
>
>I've lurked for a couple of years.
>I'd like to stay lurked, if you don't mind.
>Here's a story I wrote.
>Kind of a feeble thanks for the many wonderful
>stories I've read.
Hi Ladybug and welcome . . .
I hope you decide to write and share more with the group. This was a fun story
and it had one of my *secret* fantasies in it . . . having someone else witness
my spanking. <g>
I haven't managed to do that quite yet but maybe someday soon!
XOS,
Mary Catherine
--------------
Let go of your fears . . .
<p & e>
Freebird
there!
Freebird
~^ Enigma on Eagle's Wings ^~
Kate438
>Kind of a feeble thanks for the many wonderful
>stories I've read.
If this is your definition of feeble, I can't WAIT to see an offering you
consider powerful! Thank you, Ladybug, and pul-eeez continue writing..
Katie, fanning herself with, uh, reference
copy of The Warmest-ever Friday
Anais52
good and loads of fun. I look forward to reading more of your work.
What a wonderful way to say "hello" and "thank you," at the same time.
(And what a Great Dane!)
sue...who can't remember college weekends being this memorable, even at Party
U.
Elegance N Style
So Glad you decided to UNlurk, and the story was WONDEFUL !
Welcome..
Elegance
LASilvrFox
There was nothing "feeble" about that story! Your command of the language was
wonderful, and the story itself kept me riveted, and wanting to know what
happened later to the other two women.
I look forward to hearing more, lurking or not.
L.A. Silver Fox
Melissa
Melissa
*There is no pleasure in life so great as doing what others say you cannot*
-Remove woohoo to reply by mail ~~
Otkjane
That was a marvelous story! And I think we will all be sad not to have your
talents here more often. But I certainly appreciate that you took the time to
post your story here! Please, please don't be a stranger! You are a good
writer. And I very much enjoyed your story!!!!!!!!
Jane
(p&e)
Laura Werner
I just got around to reading this one. Now I'm sorry I waited so long. Very
nice!
--
Laura
Terri
I'm soooooooo sorry it took me so long to read this story!!!!! It was
wonderfully warm and squishy <g>.
It sounds like alot of my fantasies, and I can only hope you grace us with more
of your 'febble' stories in the near future!!!
BTW, if you think this was 'febble' in any way, shape or form, you are very
very wrong, it was absolutely perfect except that it had to end before we found
out more about what happened after the story :).
Terri, glad to know there are more great authors out there lurking