The Paddle Club: A Fun, Romantic and Erotic Spanking Novel (20 page)

There was not much fooling around for the members while the guests were there. They didn’t want to encourage any more rumors or even have anyone guess the truth. Still, many of the club members found moments to duck into one of the bedrooms off the kitchen for quick kisses and some hot and hasty foreplay. The distinctive sound of a hand smacking flesh was heard occasionally, sometimes followed by a gasp, but no one seemed to notice.

When the chips for the guests were cashed in, a sweet looking woman of about fifty was declared the big winner. She told James, who was acting as the master of ceremonies, that her name was Grace. She was small, fun and very feisty. She had salt and pepper hair and pale blue eyes.

“I’m really thrilled to win this television, mine is getting pretty old,” she said, smiling broadly, then adding, “but I don’t know anything about how to work a DVD.”

Henry, a club member in his mid-fifties who owned a small appliance store had donated the prize. He volunteered to hook it up and show her how to use it. Their eyes met for a long moment. She looked at him with his soft brown eyes, slight paunch and gray hair, and softly thanked him for his helpful offer.

“But only on the condition that I can fix you and your wife dinner, to thank you for all your trouble,” she added.

“It’s no trouble, I’ll enjoy doing it,” he smiled, “and I’d love to come to dinner but I’m single.”

“Not for long, Henry,” Suzanne whispered in his ear as she passed him. “It looks to me like your single days are numbered.”

She walked over to Sherry and Toni. “What do you want to bet that within six months we don’t see Henry again?” “Unless that sweet little lady is kinky.” Sherry refused the bet. “But I agree, his goose is cooked.”

“When their eyes met the air practically sizzled, it was so fantastic.” Toni added, “Henry is a goner.” Clay and Mac came over. “What’s going on?” Clay asked.

“Henry just fell in love with the lady who won the grand prize,” Sherry told him, sliding her arms around his waist. “It was so romantic.”

“If you want romance, just wait until I get you home,” Clay murmured in her ear. Sherry smiled slyly in reply.

Christie and Randy were about to leave before another couple of club members went over to talk to them. It was Mac and Sarah. After a few minutes conversation, they explained that they were fairly new members of the club but that they enjoyed the friends they’d met so far.

Mac concluded the conversation by saying casually, “I have two extra tickets to the football game Sunday, would you two like to come with us?” He grinned guilelessly. “We could even have a friendly bet on the game.” “Not a bet involving… ” Randy said.

“Oh no, we’ll find something else for a wager,” Mac said, “unless of course you’d like to bet… ” “No another bet will be just fine,” Christie said, walking into

Mac’s trap. Soon all the guests were leaving. The members and policemen directed traffic out of the parking lot. They made sure that any of the guests that had been drinking were not driving. The club had made arrangements for several of the local cab companies to send cabs to give free rides home to anyone who needed one.

When the crowd was cleared away for the most part, one off duty policeman, a young and handsome officer named Robert Wilson took Suzanne aside.

“I know it’s none of my business,” he paused, clearing his throat, before he continued, “at least, I assume it’s not any of my business, but I’m curious about the club. Can you tell me something about it?”

“Are you asking officially, as an officer of the law, or for yourself?” she asked, looking up at him.

“For myself. I mean, I’m not investigating you or anything like that,” he answered honestly. “Of course, if you tell me you smuggle drugs, or guns, or hold human sacrifices or something ridiculous like that I would be forced to follow up on it.”

“Fair enough, but if we’re legal, don’t tell anyone about us, deal?” She smiled and waited for his nod before continuing. “We are a club of people who enjoy playing spanking games that sometimes involve mild S & M. In our particular club we do not have orgies or even sex with anyone other than our own lovers or husbands, but we do play spanking games. All our games are voluntary, so there’s no force or victimization involved. If you overheard us when we talk about our spankings to one another, you’d think we were heavily into real sadism and pain, but that’s not so. We are into role playing and the suggestion of pain.” “How is that arousing?” he asked curiously. “I don’t understand the appeal.”

“Not everyone does, of course. Why should they?” she replied. “For me, it’s a feeling of being out of control in someone else’s hands, and just a little helpless. There’s also a level of trust involved. I’ve also heard that getting a spanking brings all the blood to the genital area and makes the nerve endings more sensitive. It’s also supposed to release pheromones. I don’t know for sure and I don’t care. I will tell you one thing though; you don’t get domestic violence calls from our members. We don’t let any abusive people or anyone who’s really turned on by violence into the club.”

“I’ve never had a call from anyone that I see here now,” he admitted, smiling at her. “I don’t know if I’d like it myself. But I’ll give you a secret in return. Do you remember the city in Northern California that tried using spankings for traffic fines?” At her nod, he continued, “I was working as an officer in that town when that was going on. It’s how I met my wife. I saw her at the station house when she was paddled for speeding. I went to her house and comforted her. Strictly against the rules, but I did. Then when I got a ticket myself, she returned the favor. I do remember one thing: in both cases we had exceptionally passionate sex that same night in spite of the pain, and my wife is not the kind of woman who would sleep with someone she just met, so maybe the paddle did stir something up. If you know what I mean.”

“Maybe it had something to do with you too. The kind of man you are and, let’s face it, your looks.” Suzanne grinned at him. “Most women would want to get to know you better. I know I would if I didn’t love James so much.” “Thanks.” He grinned, a little sheepish.

“Back to the subject of spanking. Have you tried it since?” she asked. “For fun or teasing?”

“No, but we do both swat each other on the butt quite a bit,” he replied thoughtfully.

“Then you’re both probably kinky,” she told him, smiling. “It might just be that the first time you were paddled it was much too frightening and severe for either of you to realize that a small part of you was turned on by it, even enjoyed it. You might want to try playing spanking games with your wife, but always quit if she tells you to.” “Maybe I will.” He shook her hand.

“Are you flirting, wife?” James came up behind her and swatted her affectionately on her shapely butt. Suzanne and Mitch burst out laughing simultaneously.

“No,” she managed between laughs. “I was just telling him that you were a wife beater. It sure was nice of you to give him that first-hand demonstration.”

“And did you tell him that you return the favor? Hey Robert, I’m a battered husband,” he said to the officer, who continued to laugh.

“I’d better go help with the cleaning. If you want to know more give me a call,” Suzanne said as she took James by the arm. “Thanks for all your help tonight.” “I’ll see you.” He got into his car and left.

“I bet you all my chips that his wife has a nice pink butt tonight,” she said.

“I’m not concerned with his wife’s butt. I’m only interested in yours.” He kissed her before they went inside. They had to help pay the members off by paddling their butts according to how many chips they wound up with. “And I know exactly what color your butt will be tonight.” “Pink?” she asked. “More like flaming red.” He swatted her right on the threatened butt as she went through the door.

“Who was the big winner among the members?” Suzanne asked.

“Well, we were discussing that before I came out to find you. There’s a problem.” James paused. “Since so many of the members were working and earned tips instead of gambling, we’re debating if tips should count.”

By the time they got inside, the issue had been decided. The rest of the members had voted and tips, indeed, would count! The tally was added up. For a while it seemed as if one of the three bargirls would “win” but as the last chips were counted, it turned out that James had won, edging out Suzanne by only $2.00 in chips. “So strip down and lie on the floor, James,” Mac said with a grin. “We have a little surprise for you.”

James got into position good naturedly; after all he had been a member for several years, and he often enjoyed being on the receiving end of some of the punishments. However he knew this time the whipping would be worse, harder and longer than he was used to. He also knew that this time he would not be able to stop the proceedings by saying his code word or shouting “Stop!” That didn’t bother him; after all, he trusted his friends. More or less.

James was surprised but not panicked when he felt straps being fastened around his ankles. In fact, he was enjoying the anticipation and the edge of apprehension he was feeling. The only moment of discomfort came when he realized he was being hoisted up until his hands were not even touching the ground. One of the male members caught his hands and tied them together. He was left hanging there as the rest of the members finished cleaning up the hall.

Just about the time he believed that every drop of blood in his body had finally drained into his head, the members came back. They had a wooden paddle, which was a mixed blessing to James. Paddles tended to cause less welting than a strap or lash, but because of that, punishments could go on longer without drawing blood or doing any real damage. He also knew from past experience that paddles with holes drilled into them hurt worse than paddles without holes. He looked. This one had several holes drilled into it. This would really sting.

Every club member took a turn giving James the dubious benefit of his or her years of practice and experience in wielding a paddle. He got anywhere from one to six blows from each of them. He swung back and forth with the force of the blows, yelling lustily at each one of them.

He had to yell for several reasons: First, it hurt! Second, he had learned long ago that with this bunch it wasn’t smart to be too stoic. And besides, part of the fun for everyone was drawing a hearty reaction from the victim, and James was a very good victim. When he was gently let down, he stood in the center of the

group with one hand rubbing his glowing red ass. “Gee, thanks guys. You shouldn’t have gone to all that trouble for me. After all, since I only won by $2.00, it was practically a tie,” James remarked slyly as he pulled his pants back on but leaving his fly unzipped because the punishment had caused him to get a painfully large erection.

Suzanne began to back quietly away from the group towards the door, sensing impending doom. All too soon she heard the words she knew were coming.

“Hey, that’s right! Since Suzanne came so close to James’ total, we ought to give Suzanne a little present too,” someone suggested.

Although Suzanne knew she could take anything her friends could or would dish out, she was more than a little bit relieved to hear Mac say, “Yeah string her up, but she should only get about half as good a present as James. She was the runner-up so it would be sort of like a consolation prize.”

Suzanne quietly removed all her clothes and lay down on the hardwood floor. She felt nervous as the straps were fastened around her slender ankles and she was pulled up into the air. She had never been hung upside down before. She felt weird hanging there, with her long, silky black hair brushing the ground. Her large breasts were stretched and hanging down. She wasn’t left for a long time dangling like James had been; the club members started paddling her right away.

She felt herself swaying back and forth as the paddle landed on her rounded butt, but she soon learned a secret. The paddle hurt, but it didn’t hurt too badly. Any blow hard enough to hurt very badly also caused her body to swing away from the force of it, thereby automatically defusing the full sting of the swing. She kept that secret very well because she yelled dramatically as each member gave her one swat, and then Mac and James both finished her off with five swats each.

“I’m going to get you when we get home!” she threatened James when she was finally lowered back to the floor. She retrieved her dress from the floor and started to put it on but James stopped her.

“You’d better believe it, dearie.” James hugged her sliding his hands over her warm, tender ass and whispering into her ear, “You’re going to get all of me.” He took the dress from her hands and slid it very gently over her head. “Every single inch; every hot,” he nipped her ear, “hard inch.”

The
Casino Night
was still a hot topic of conversation at the next regular club party. Suzanne and James sat at a large table and were soon joined by Edna and Jerry, Clayton and Sherry, Toni and Mario, and Sarah and Mac. Jerry went to fetch drinks for everyone. They sat there talking and enjoying their drinks while they watched some of the activities going on round the room.

“Tonight should be fun,” Suzanne told the new members. It was Toni and Mario’s first regular party. “Mac and Sarah already know about this. They were there when Clay had the idea. We’re having some skits tonight, along with whatever else happens. That’s why the mike is on.” “What kind of skits?” Toni asked. “You’ll see,” Clay said smiling, “one’s starting right now.”

There was a cocktail waitress at the bar; a petit brunette with a flirtatious manner. The only problem was – she was a lousy waitress. She spent far too long flirting with male customers, and not always single male customers. She ignored or was rude to female customers, forgot orders and also delivered the wrong drinks to several people. The topper was when she carelessly spilled drinks on two well dressed men, drenching their suits. The bartender called her over to the bar.

“Deliver these two martinis to table twelve for me.” He turned away, busily mixing drinks. “Oh, and don’t forget the olives.” “Where are they?” she asked.