The Paddle Club: A Fun, Romantic and Erotic Spanking Novel (21 page)

“I’m stocking my supplies; you’ll have to reach over the bar,” he told her, not even turning back to look at her.

She stood on the bar rail and reached over the bar for the olives. Immediately the bartender grabbed her by both arms, pulling her high enough over the bar so that her feet no longer touched the ground. The two wet customers came over to stand on each side of her. Each man used one hand to raise her short frilly skirt. “A dozen from each of us?” one man said to the other.

“I bet I can make my side a brighter red than yours,” the other replied, “and the winner gets to give her an extra dozen.”

The two men spanked her simultaneously, one on each side of her bottom. When they had each given her a dozen spanks, they pulled her panties down and argued over who had won the bet. Finally the winner gave her the final dozen swats and she was let up. Applause erupted around the room as the trio and the bartender took their bows. James and Suzanne left the table to join in the fun.

“Are you enjoying yourselves so far tonight?” Clayton asked Toni. “This is your first regular party, isn’t it?” Toni smiled at him. “We are having fun.”

“This should be a fun party tonight since everyone’s here and,” Clayton grinned, “we still have more entertainment planned.”

Alan came over to join the table. “Hey Alan, where’s Sharon? I thought she was going to give us a chance,” Clay asked.

“She is,” Alan replied, “but tonight she really did have to work.”

“What about the Slave Auction?” Sarah asked. “Are Mac and I still going to buy her?” “She agreed to it,” Alan said, “but she’s reluctant. I’m afraid…”

“Mac will take good care of her,” Sarah interrupted him. “Don’t worry.”

“I will, you know,” Mac added in. “Everything will be fine. Now which one of you needs a good, hard whipping?” “I do, I do.” Sherry stood up eagerly. “Then get over to the bench bare-assed and in position, and wait for me,” he ordered sternly.

Sherry moved quickly to comply. Mac turned to Sarah. “Lovey, go over and tie Sherry down for me, please. Blindfold her and lay out my assortment of toys next to her. I want to play
What’s My Whipper
, with her. Then I want you to give yourself

over to Clay for a lesson in subservience.” “Yes, Mac.” She moved off quickly.

Mac and Clay were the two most forceful tops in the club, followed closely by James. Jerry, while predominately a top, was so cheerful and friendly that the term just didn’t seem to fit him.

“Jerry, why don’t you try out my new flogger on Edna? It looks so severe but it really feels good,” Mac suggested. “Ask Sarah which one I mean; she has it over there with the toys.”

Jerry and Clay walked over to Sarah. She gave Jerry the flogger. It had a hundred very soft, thin lashes made of the finest suede. It looks horrific and made a satisfying smack when wielded on human flesh, but it stimulated and tingled instead of hurting. It took a real heavy hand to even begin to cause any real pain with the thing.

“Now Sherry,” Mac said sternly, “I’m going to use several different toys on you. You have to describe what I’m using on you before I change to another, so wrong guesses will earn you extra smacks.”

Upon hearing this, a small audience gathered. Mac picked up an oval paddle, leather on one side and mink on the other. Using the leather side he gave her two mighty smacks, one on each cheek. “What is it?” “It’s a paddle.” Sherry got another pair of smacks. “What is it made of?” Mac asked sternly. “Leather?” Sherry guessed.

“Good girl.” He got a brush and spanked her with it, without stopping. “Come on Sherry, what is this one?” “A smaller paddle, aw, a hairbrush?” Mac immediately switched to a cane. This time Sherry yelped out the answer almost immediately. Without hesitation, Mac reached for the birch. After watching Sherry guessing what implement was being used on her backside for a while, Jerry tried the flogger out on his wife. She loved it. Mac was right. It made a real satisfying smack on her bottom but felt stimulating instead of painful.

Mac let Sherry up, hugged her and whispered to Clay. Clay grinned and nodded. He turned to Sarah and wiggled one finger, gesturing her over. When Sarah was standing directly in front of him, Clay silently pointed to the floor. Instantly Sarah knelt at his feet, looking up at him with respect in her eyes.

Clay pointed at the implements, and Sarah stood up and walked over to them. She picked up a cane and looked over at Clay. He shook his head. She picked up another one, a little thicker and this time Clay nodded. He crooked his little finger again and she brought the cane to him. He gestured at her clothes and she stripped, folding each article of clothing as she removed it and carefully placing it on the nearest chair.

He pointed at the whipping bench and she got into position. Clay slashed the canes with cold efficiency, each stroke marking her with a long, red welt. She bore the cuts perfectly, without a sound and without any movement. When she had ten parallel welts, he snapped his fingers. She stood, walked over to Clay and knelt in front of him. He held out the cane and she kissed it. Then he gestured towards the corner and she stood there while various club members looked at the ten welts. Finally Clay snapped his fingers again and pointed at the pile of clothes and she dressed. He handed her the cane and she put it away. Then she came over to stand in front of him again. Clay grinned and hugged her. “That was very good, my dear.” Again the members applauded.

There were now two desks set up on the dais, with a thin partition between them. How long they had been there no one could say. Between Sarah and Sherry, they had all been too preoccupied.

Suzanne sat at one desk with cluttered piles of paper spread out in front of her. She was calmly talking on the phone, digging in her purse with one hand and gesturing with the other. Suzanne finally dug something out of her purse. It was a nail file. She began filing her nails. James walked over to the dais. “Are you doing the filing?” he asked. “Sure am, Boss man,” she snapped her gum. “I didn’t mean your nails, Suzanne. Have you finished the files?” James looked at her desk, noting the piles of papers. “I can see that you haven’t. How about the letters I dictated? Are they ready for me to sign?” “Not yet,” Suzanne admitted. “Hey! You had a call.”

“Who from? Where’s the message slip?” James was losing his patience. “I didn’t write it down,” Suzanne shrugged.

“You haven’t typed my letters. You haven’t done the filing. You didn’t even take down my messages.” James voice was low and ominous, “Is there anything you’ve done right today?” “I remembered to make coffee,” she said with indignation. “Good,” James said, “bring me some, at my desk.” “Can’t,” she said, grinning at him. “Why not?” The question was cold. “Drank it all.” Suzanne went back to her nails.

“If you drank all that coffee,” James asked exasperated, “how come you aren’t wired from the caffeine? Like, for example, having enough energy to actually do some work?” “Decaf.” She looked away.

James walked over to his desk. He moved his chair away from the desk and into the center of the room. He turned on his intercom. “Suzanne, in my office, now!” he ordered. She came into his office and stood there. “Yeah?” “I’m tired of your poor work habits and your attitude,” James said sternly as he removed his suit jacket. He unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves. Then he sat in the chair. “Get over my knees. Now!” “Hell, no!” She turned away.

In a flash, he jumped up and grabbed her. He dragged her over to his chair, sat down and pulled her over his knees. Ignoring her wiggling and struggling, he worked her skirt up over her behind and pulled down her panties. Then he began to spank her with loud walloping smacks, right in the area framed by her garter belt and straps. She squirmed and cursed him out, causing him to hit her even harder. Eventually her bottom really began to sting and she reached back with both hands to cover her bottom. Turning her head to face the audience, she winked and stuck out her tongue. James grabbed both hands with his and began to spank her much harder. It was one helluva spanking and when he stopped, the members applauded again.

The group of friends sat down for another round of drinks. Soon the soft rock music stopped. Someone had interrupted the usual soft rock music and put on opera. There was a slightly paunchy man of about thirty-five on the dais. With his back to the crowd he dropped his pants and underwear and bent over the back of a chair, bare bottom. A young woman picked up a birch rod just as a song began. Soon, the man was being birched while singing along with the tape. He had a beautifully trained voice and perfect pitch. He also never missed a note of
The Toreador Song
from the opera
Carmen
during the entire birching. When the song was finished the birching stopped. The man stood up and pulled up his pants. As the members applauded he took a bow.

Seeing this, even Sarah and Mac were stunned. “Does this happen often?” Sarah’s voice came out as a whisper. “Not really.” James winked. “It’s only the second time I’ve heard him sing because he’s usually on tour.”

The group relaxed and enjoyed their drinks before anyone realized that Clay and Sherry were gone. Even as they looked around Clay walked up to the mike, in costume.

“I met Sherry when we were in a play together. So tonight we’re going to reprise a scene from the roles that brought us together.” Much to the surprise and delight of everyone, they performed the spanking scene from
Kiss Me Kate
.

How Sharon’s lover talked her into it, she never really knew. Maybe it was because Alan was such a kind, gentle man while still a very exciting lover. Maybe it was because the idea was so wild and outlandish it couldn’t fail to seem unreal, and to be intriguing. Maybe it was because it was for charity.

For a long time Alan had been trying to talk her into joining the Paddle Club. He had introduced her to some of the members, and he had taken her to a regular party and the club’s
Casino Night
. He claimed the club was all fairly innocent, more fun and titillation than pain. It was also, he had explained, not a sex club for swingers. For the most part club members were monogamous and romantically involved with their own spouses or lovers. Spankings however, were more open. Members frequently exchanged partners for spanking, paddlings and whippings. From what Sharon had seen most of the members were very nice people. So far Sharon and Alan had not played any spanking games, not even in private. Sharon was what Alan called a “spanking virgin” because no one, not even her parents, had ever hit or spanked her. The fact that a gentle, quiet man like her lover thought it would be really fun to spank her totally shocked and mystified her.

The fact that he wanted to put her up as a slave at a Paddle Club
Slave Auction
caused her to feel shivers up her spine but the thought of it also secretly intrigued her, inwardly arousing her curiosity. She trusted Alan so how bad could it be? Oh well, she thought as she agreed, curiosity killed the cat; in fact it had killed several cats. The way Alan explained it to her she would be put entirely at the mercy of a total stranger, except for one thing: Each ‘slave’ made up a list of things they would not submit to. The masters would know in advance what boundaries they could take a slave to. It was agreed that no one was going to cross those boundaries.

There were three basic levels of slaves listed in the catalog: BRONZE SLAVES, which he wanted Sharon to be, were the lowest level of slaves. They were to be lightly punished only with hands or paddles, no whips, and there would be no bruises, blood or any other injuries. No tight or extended bondage, and no excessive humiliation. SILVER SLAVES were punished more and the paddles would be harsher, drilled with holes to sting more and sometimes even whips could be used. They were also tied up more often, tighter and left that way longer.

GOLD SLAVES were open to all physical punishments and bondage in any way, limited only by the rule that no real injuries could be inflicted.

The auction was to take place on Thursday evening at the beginning of a three-day weekend. Her enslavement would begin immediately after the auction and end Sunday at midnight.

Sharon stood on the pedestal, shivering slightly, naked except for a g-string, a tiny matching bra, a blindfold and a flowing cape. Her long blond hair was gathered roughly on top of her head. She had bronze slave bracelets on both wrists and her hands were tied behind her back.

She was so scared she was almost numb when she felt the attendants removing her cape. Soon their hands were on her body while the auctioneer was extolling her virtues. She was turned around and felt her buttocks being stroked and handled. Although they left her tiny bra on, she felt almost as if she were just an object as her breasts were very impersonally lifted, pushed together and lightly stroked.

She felt her hair being unpinned, felt it falling to flow around her white shoulders. Her chin was lifted and the blindfold was removed. She was told to look at the crowd so that they could see her face and eyes. Then the bidding began and she was blindfolded again. Behind the blindfold she felt scared, humiliated, objectified and very defiant. She shuttered as she heard the gavel slam down.

A collar was fastened around her neck and the cape was put back on. She was told briefly by Alan to be silent and obey. She was led, still blindfolded, to a car and helped into it. After a short drive, she was helped out of the car and into a building. Her unseen Master led her down some stairs into a slightly cool room. He removed her cape and bra but he left her g-string in place.

“I am your new Master; you will serve me and my wife, your mistress, until Sunday at midnight. Here are the rules: You will not speak to me unless I tell you to. In fact, you will not speak at any time at all unless I tell you to.” He paused, then continued with just a trace of kindness in his voice. “You will be treated according to the rules you agreed to. I know that this is your first time as a slave so I will be very gentle, patient and careful of you, but nevertheless you will be punished twice a day beginning tonight, whether you misbehave or not. You will wait in position for me to give you a morning spanking at 8:00 AM. You will also wait in position for your evening punishment at midnight. If I do not feel like punishing you myself, my wife, my butler or my cook will perform the task. It does not matter who does it; to them, it’s just another chore. You will obey every order I give you instantly and without comment. Any order from my lady, my butler or my cook is the same as if it came from me. You will also be punished during the day if you misbehave, and even sometimes if I just feel like punishing you for nothing other than my own amusement. If you are being punished for misbehaving, I will tell you that you are a bad slave and you will ask me, with downcast eyes and great humility in your own words, to beat you into submission. When I finish beating you, you will thank me for taking the time to give you the beating and ask me, no,
beg
me, to beat you again. During these beatings and your morning and evening punishments you will say ‘Thank you very much, Master’ after every slap of my hand or stroke of the paddle. If I’m beating you just for my amusement however, you will not speak at all, but you will squirm and moan and give me a real show of how much you, um, enjoy the punishment.”