Your Next Paddling Is Free

Another erotic story from the FLOGMASTER!

Copyright 1985-2020 by the Flogmaster. All Rights Reserved. Free distribution via electronic medium (i.e. the internet or electronic BBS) is permitted as long as the text is _not_ modified and this copyright is included, but _no_ other form of publication is allowed without written permission. This document _may_ contain explicit material of an ADULT nature. ***READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!*** Anything offensive is your own problem. This story is for **entertainment** purposes only, and it does _not_ necessarily represent the viewpoint of the author or the electronic source where this was obtained. All characters are *fictional* -- any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental.

Your Next Paddling Is Free

(***, M/F, Severe, non-consensual paddling)

A woman is a frequent visitor at a dom for discipline. (Approximately 780 words. Originally published 2020-05.)

Caryn arrived with sluggish feet and major trepidation. Bob greeted her with his usual grunt. The old man took her discipline note and read it without expression, and then took the huge 28\" fraternity paddle off the wall.

Even with her broad hips and full figure the board looked big. She shuddered, knowing how much that thing hurt. She wanted to beg to be let off, to ask for a postponement, to plead for mercy. But she knew Bob couldn't be bribed or fooled.

She still tried, smiling her sweetest at him, knowing she was pretty and turned heads wherever she went.

He said nothing. He just pointed with the board and she got into position. He started with the wood across the seat of her jeans. It was ten licks, given at an accelerating pace.

This meant there was 30 seconds delay after the first, 25 after the second, 20 after the third, and so on. Even through pants the swats hurt so much she could just recover by the time the next arrived. Soon enough the swats were one a second, and then just a blur of thunder and pain.

But a pants-paddling wasn't why Caryn was here. She was to be disciplined "properly," which meant a formal bare assed correction, just like her good old days in college.

Groaning, she peeled her jeans down to her ankles. Her panties, too. She'd had a big butt in her sorority days, but now it was positively huge. It was more wide than deep, but the cheeks were still quite solid. Caryn was simply a well-fleshed girl.

She knelt at the horse and bent over it, leaving her butt thrusting up. This was a humiliating pose in the best of times. Naked and with a massive slab of wood about to smash into your ass, was worse.

Then Bob began, connecting the wood with Caryn's butt. The impact was loud, the thumping paid hideous. Caryn grunted, gritting her teeth against the throbbing. If she hadn't gotten the warmup over her jeans, she be screaming. As it was, she was biting her lower lip so hard it was white.

It was always worse at the beginning. Caryn held out until Bob got into the groove. He'd whacked every inch of her butt and now began on the leser spanked portions. He concentrated on the "sit spots" at the base for a few minutes, then worked the upper thighs. Those whacks made the woman scream.

A standard paddling at Bob's was 50 whacks. That's what he got in his fraternity 100 years ago and what was good then was good now.

But Caryn, with her wide butt and tall cheeks, had flesh to spare. He always gave her 60, and the ten over jeans didn't count, of course. So the board landed a few more times before she was allowed up. By then both cheeks were blood-red with purple patches and black bruising across the summits.

She hadn't been fast lowering her pants, but it took her more than twice as long to get them back up. She was breathing hard by then, fresh tears leaking from her eyes.

"Whew! Uh, thanks, Bob," she said. She found her purse and fished out the $50 bill, his standard rate. He was a man of few words and just grunted as he pocked it.

Then Caryn passed over her "frequent spankee" card. Bob raised his eyebrows as he punched out the last square.

"That's ten," he said. He handed her back the card. "Next one's free."

"Oh joy," sighed Caryn. "My husband will be so pleased. I'm sure he'll want to use it right away."

"Not too soon. You're a mite tender back there."

"Oh, he'll wait a week or two. I hope.""

She gave Bob a wan smile, then winced at her first step. Her heavy bottom bounced and it felt almost as bad as another paddle whack.

Forget the taxi, I'm walking, she thought. It was four miles uphill, but no way was she sitting until at least tomorrow.

Once outside, she could feel the coupon burning in her purse. She just knew as soon as her husband found it he'd be looking for excuses to use it. After all, it was free!

Shit! she thought bitterly. Why does Bob have to be so generous? He already gives me 20 free swats each visit and now it's a whole spanking!

The End