Fantasy 011: Robert

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Another erotic story from the FLOGMASTER!

Copyright 1985-2016 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.

About the Fantasy Series

"What is your deepest, darkest, most secret fantasy?" Those words bring a chill to anyone. To reveal something so private, so personal, is difficult. Yet that's exactly what we have here. In each story, a narrator reveals his or her most private sexual fantasy. In the grand tradition of such things, it is a *fantasy* -- it may not be realistic or even physically possible. It's not necessarily something he/she would want to experience in real life, but the illusion can be appealing. But no matter how bizarre or incomprehensible, fantasies reveal something intimate about ourselves. So . . . learn and enjoy. And send me your fantasies! The Flogmaster

Fantasy011: Robert

(**, M/MF, Intense, paddling)

A marriage counselor has an unusual solution for a couple that won't stop bickering. (Approximately 588 words. Originally published 1996-06.)

With pale faces, we sit outside the counselor's office, waiting. We know what is to come and we are not sure how to act. We are frightened, yet excited. The anticipation is the worst.

Finally the attendant lets us in. The counselor greets us. He's a large man, fiftyish, athletic, and very stern. As we sit down he asks us how the last week has gone.

As usual I tell him so-so, and you tell him that I was unfair with you. You begin to point out my flaws and mistakes and I cannot remain quietŠI must return the favor to you, even to the point of stretching the literal truth a touch to make it lean more in my favor.

But the counselor will not have it. He puts a stop to our bickering immediately, and has us both stand and remove our clothes. We know what is coming and we are afraid, but we cannot disobey. Soon we are both naked, my erection too obvious.

The counselor takes out his wooden paddle then, and both you and I quaver. In moments we shall be weeping. Angry that this has happened to early in the session, I blame you, and begin to berate you. You respond in kind. Again, the counselor stops us.

"To the desk," he says. "Bend over it, both of you, side by side."

Reluctantly, we obey. He stands behind us, the long paddle in both hands. He pulls back and wallops both of us at once. I grunt, you squeal. The pain is fierce but bearable.

Again and again he spanks us. After a dozen he asks us who is to blame. I say you, you say me. He gives us another dozen. Through gritted teeth I say that everything is your fault. You say it is mine. Another dozen.

My ass is throbbing now, my will crumbling. I want to give in, to take the blame, but my pride will not let me. I shake my head. "It's her fault." This time the counselor does not stop at a dozen as expected, but goes to eighteen.

"Next time it will be 24," he says sternly. "Now who is to blame for the problems within this marriage?"

"Please, that's enough," I groan. "We're both at fault."

"Yes!" you say, but it does no good. Twenty-four screaming wallops later we are both sobbing, our tears making a puddle on the desk. Our bottoms hurt so bad it isn't even funny.

"Do you want 36?"

"No!" I scream. "It's me! It's all me. I'm the one to blame. I take her for granted. I treat her like a servant. I'm sorry, I'm really, really sorry. It's all my fault."

"No, it's my fault," you say. "I'm the one to blame. I'm far too critical. I never praise him, only berate him. It's my fault."

The counselor nods and puts down the paddle. "Good. Now kiss and makeup."

I am very aroused and angry. With passion I kiss you, deeply and with conviction. You kiss me back. Our buns are burning from the long paddling, but we leave knowing that we received what we needed. Our commitment is strong, our marriage whole. I know I shall try my very best and I know that you will do also. It is only pride that interferes with our heart's desires, and it is that pride that the counselor so wisely erased. With clean slates and burning bottoms we shall remain together forever.

The End

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