Friday, 28 June 2013

My first spanking party

Sometimes I love where I live. I find two skirts in a renowned local charity shop. £2.99 each. I say a silent "hooray" for the patronizing woman in the vintage shop who wouldn't drop the price of a navy wool pencil skirt from £45 to £40 (honestly). To think I'd nearly spent £40 when I got two skirts for £5.98.

The thick synthetic satin of the tight black skirt I select for my first spanking party has an unexpected side-effect: as my bottom grows hot from being beaten the heat is contained within my tight clothing. I remark on this to the amusement of my companions. Fortunately I keep having to have the skirt, and my knickers, pulled down. I remember why I generally prefer natural fibres.

Matched with a black blouse with a cream lace collar I make a good maid, but I'm a cotton and wool harlot at heart.

The party is held in an out-of-the-way sort of place, a very unremarkable suburban terraced house with an overgrown front garden next to a road that is busy with cars but not people. I almost lose Kate as she turns in through the front gate. Kate had described it as a club so somehow I had been expecting an actual club rather than a private home.

Glen, the organiser, opens the door to us. He's cheerful and puts coffee on to brew. He complains when I ask for tea but makes me a cup anyway. Although it's a muggy day the heating is on. Glen says we mustn't go into the garden but he opens the back door to let some air in. I see lilac bushes and a dull green lawn. We go upstairs to a small bedroom to change into our outfits, "something less comfortable" Kate calls it.

This is a small party. There are six men (all in their sixties, I would say) and three of us. Kate and I are early but Paula is running late. We say hello as she wriggles into a saucy maid's outfit that has clearly had a lot of use. Like Glen, she's friendly and very relaxed. She explains the scenario for the day. It's just a silly story to explains why we three maids are going to get spanked. It's very tongue in cheek, something to have fun with.

Back downstairs the guests have arrived. Most are regulars. I'm introduced as the debutante. We do a round of introductions. I almost say my real name and then remember I'm Penny today. The men sit in the lounge in a semi-circle. One looks eerily like my mum's boyfriend who I've only met once. Fortunately they left for France two days ago so it can't be him.

It's time to get started. Glen says: "Well, gentlemen, these maids behaved disgracefully at the weekend blah, blah, blah... if you want to get your jobs back, ladies, you're going to have to get spanked this afternoon. What do you say to that?" And we look disgruntled and protest our innocence but agree to take a spanking. I enjoy the silliness of it.

I find myself over the knee of a very quiet, pale man. He has bovine eyes and a gentle face. I look down at my hands braced on the carpet and around at chair legs and men's footwear. I listening to Kate and Paula getting spanked. The man is very gentle. He doesn't even pull my skirt up. After a few minutes Glen calls the change and we swap, and swap again until all six have had a few minutes on each of our bottoms. By the end mine is nicely warmed.

The spanking is sensual pleasure but you would have to be hit quite hard and for quite long for it to be challenging. We switch to implements: I prefer the crop and the paddle but there's also a slightly scary leather strap as well as a few floggers that the men don't seem interested in. Spanking happens over the knee but for implements we bend over and hold on to a chair or take turns leaning over a special padded bench. This is the nicest, because you can relax.

I spend most of the time moving about. I bend over, get hit, stand back up. My skirt goes up, knickers down, receive six/eight/ten/twelve of the crop/paddle/strap. Then my knickers go up. I stand, pulling my skirt back into place, say thank you, receive a kiss on the cheek and move on to the next man. I remember the last time Virgil and I played. He had cropped me quite hard. I had stripes afterward. We were both high, laughing and naked. The beating was preceded by and turned into fucking. I feel a pang of missing him but it passes.

This is as different as different gets. The men are sweet rather than bossy and very respectful. There are no wandering hands (Yellow Pages fingers, Glen calls them). I don't feel as though I am being dommed. Apparently this is the correct assumption: spankers keep themselves separate from kinksters. 

The only time during the afternoon that I get turned on is when I finally spend a few minutes quality time on the bench. With my back to the room (and this is good, because I don't really want to see the people who are beating me) I experience a pleasant fuzziness. I feel the wetness between my legs. Then the moment passes and I get up, pull my skirt back into place and move on.

The final implement is, of course, the cane. I admit to not being very good at being caned. I don't get caned regularly so I'm not hardened to it. It's always either too soft or too hard. You need to find the painful but pleasurable bit in the middle. I call it the Goldilocks range. It's almost impossible to find with the cane.

Glen is solicitous. In the end, although I receive 36 strokes (six from each man), they are pretty gentle with me and it's quite bearable. Afterwards I feel... fine, a bit tired, but that's understandable. Today my bottom is sore. I seriously considered getting a mattress topper this morning. I can't find a comfortable position. I think I will invest in some arnica lotion. Kate swears by it.

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