RLS 02: The Recital

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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.

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About the REAL LIFE SPANKING Series

The RLS Series is a collection of _real-life_ stories retold by the Flogmaster. Names and places have been _changed_ to protect the naughty. All are based on the personal memories of individuals and are written in the first person. Literary license may have been taken for a more dramatic presentation.

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The Recital

(***, M/f, Intense, n/c paddling)

A woman remembers her first--and final--piano recital. (Approximately 986 words. Originally published 1995-10.)

(This is my recollection [perhaps slightly embellished with the years] of the worst spanking I ever received. Hope you like.)

"Mom, do I have to go?" I whined. I hated piano practice. After all I was fourteen years old, almost fifteen, and I had much more important things to do with my time. Like boys.

But my Mom was firm. I had to attend the recital and I had to play. "But that's for kids," I whined. "I'm too old for that stuff."

"Your sister will be there too," she said, as though that was an encouragement. I hated my sister, at least where the piano was concerned. It all came so easy to her. I'd struggle for three weeks to learn a part and she'd pick it up in minutes. Her being three years younger than me didn't help.

"Come, Darlene, let's go pick out a recital piece for you."

Weeks later and it was time. I wasn't ready. I wasn't even close. I knew I would sound terrible and that girls much younger than me would be playing much more difficult pieces and I felt humiliated. It just wasn't fair.

Sure enough, little Betsy Watson started with a Mozart piece I couldn't have played with twenty years of practice. I resolved to get out of this somehow. I decided pretending to be sick was the answer.

"Mom, I don't feel well."

"Be quiet, girl, you are going to play!"

"But Mom..."

"Shut up! Sit still and listen or I'll take you across my knee right here!"

That froze me. I hadn't been spanked in a couple of years. The last one had come from Daddy's belt and I hadn't sat comfortably for at least a week. The idea of being spanked in front of all these girls truly frightened me. I sat and waited my turn.

But it grew more and more embarrassing. Even the five year-olds were better than me. I didn't know much but I knew they were playing more complicated pieces than I was, and doing a better job than I would with mine.

Finally it was time for me to play and I couldn't do it. I sat in my seat and refused to budge. Mother was horrified. "Are you trying to embarrass me?" she hissed. "Get up there now!"

I must have been in some awful mood because at any other time hearing her talk to me in that tone would have sent me willingly walking across red-hot coals in my bare feet. But on that day I flat out refused. I was too embarrassed to play.

What happened next made my playing seem like fun, however. Slapping my face my mother pulled me across her lap and swatted my behind half-a-dozen times, just enough to bring tears to my eyes. My face burning with shame I couldn't budge when she ordered me to go to the piano.

She dragged me across the room in front of all the other kids and their parents, over to the hostess, my piano teacher, and whispered something to her. She whispered back and the next thing I knew she was handing my mom a wooden cutting board from the kitchen.

To my utter disgrace I began to cry seeing that paddle. I knew what would happen next. She gave me several hard swats on our way to the bathroom, a couple right in front of the whole audience. Once in the bathroom I was bawling like a two-year-old as she pulled me across her lap and paddled me.

She was furious. She really let me have it. I'd never been paddled so hard in all my life. I thought surely that my butt would break or something. About halfway through Mom seemed to think my dress was messing up her aim or something because she flipped it up and pulled down my panties and spanked my naked bottom.

I'd never been spanked on my bare bottom before and while the pain was amazing I was screaming more from terror. All I could think about was how different the sound was and how everyone in that recital audience knew what was happening and knew that I was getting a bare bottomed spanking.

The spanking really hurt, but I was mortified when my mother finally stopped and stood me up and told me I was going to go play my piece. I began to really cry when she said that and I fell to my knees and begged her not to make me go out there. Anything but that. I even asked her to spank me more, but not to make me go out there.

She refused. I think she had to spank me some more at that point--I don't remember everything that well. Somehow I made it out there and sat my burning bottom on that piano bench and stumbled through my recital piece, my face probably as red as my bottom.

I have never been so humiliated in all my life. I honestly thought I would die. The only thing good that came out of the experience was that I never had to play the piano again. Mom asked me the next day if I really wanted piano lessons and I said no and she said okay.

Since then I feel a particular chill when I see a piano or hear certain pieces played. It's a chill that runs down my spine and makes my bottom tingle. My face blushes and anybody watching would probably notice my hands subtly moving to cover my butt.

Weird, huh? I mean I've been married for over ten years now and my husband and I are very happy. Yet if I hear "Blue Danube" I cover my bottom like I'm about to be spanked. I feel like Pavlov's dog.

The End

*** Comments/criticisms on this story or series are appreciated ***

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