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Meet Ted. He's just an ordinary guy who moves into a neighborhood populated by some extraordinary women and an even more extraordinary club. It seems like your average Friday night poker club. But when Ted is invited to join the club, little does he suspect that the girls and the guys don't play for money-they play for spanks.
So begins a saga that explores the wilds of American suburbia, and the sexy escapades of lonely divorcees, single guys on the make, single gals looking for Mr. Right Now, and everyone looking for action. It's a free for all where the booze flows freely and inhibitions are discarded along with clothing.
In this novella, bare bottom spankings, paddlings, switchings and strappings abound, and all at the turn of a card. The action is multiple orientations- M/F, F/F and a generous dose of F/M. Written in the pseudo '60's style of Will Henry this eBook is a spanko throwback to those days of yore when books like this came in a plain brown wrapper.
When I moved into the house on Shady Tree Lane, the thought that kept running through my head was the opening shot on countless sitcoms celebrating the American style of suburban living. Had I moved into “Happy Days” or “Father Knows Best?” Neither, as I was to find out. It turned out, in fact, to be an x-rated version of “Desperate Housewives.” But I’m getting ahead of myself.
The neighborhood was in a suburb, just an ordinary suburb like you’d find in any medium to large size American city. Only this one catered to a younger crowd. Not exactly yuppies, because yuppies tend to live in trendy places closer in. No, this was a collection of houses on a couple of cul-de-sacs that fed off a county road, a small development that some enterprising builder had bought and had built spec houses on, hoping to recoup his investment. Young singles bought them and that’s what attracted me. My name's Ted McCoy. I’m a civil engineer. I’m single, in my early thirties. I’ve got a good job with the state, and things finally got to the point where I could afford to buy a house. At my age I liked the idea of having neighbors around with whom I might have things in common, so after checking it out, I decided this was the place.
I hadn’t been here that long before the local welcome wagon came calling. They were three ladies, one of whom was single and a couple of others who were divorcees – and they were all quite good looking. Another plus for the neighborhood. I invited them in and we talked a bit. It turns out one of the neighborhood residents was a woman I had known long ago named Amy Collins. It turns out that Amy lives on the next block. Now, that’s a blast from the past. What memories! My childhood sweetheart, now all grown up and, years later, living practically next door. We had lost track of each other like so many friends do. Time and distance has a way of breaking bonds that sometimes never recover, but here we were after all these years. Life is funny.
So in chatting with these ladies, I learned that Amy already knew I was moving in, and she had told them all about me. And to welcome me to their friendly little group they invited me to their sometimes semi-weekly card game, held whenever they could put it together, at the house of whoever felt like volunteering.
We were just kids when Amy and I had known each other. I had lost track of her over the years. So when I eventually called on her a few days later, it was as if I were making a new acquaintance. But as we reminisced, the old memories came flooding back. More about that later.
I had known Amy when we were kids. We had lived in a small country town about 60 miles from here and a world away, and had been part of a neighborhood gang that grew up together, went to school from grade school through high school, and generally hung out together.
Amy had grown up to be a cute and voluptuous blonde. She had a pretty face, was sort of short, at 5' 3" or so, and wore her hair in a blonde pageboy style. She had a great figure with a tight waist and best of all, a prominent and well-rounded bottom that was a little bit out of proportion to the rest of her. But then she'd always had a cute butt. I remembered that part quite vividly.
We are both 33 now. She had married, but was now divorced. I invited her over for dinner right after the visit from the welcome wagon. She reciprocated and invited me over last week. We talked about old times. All our kid stuff. That's when she mentioned the card game again, how it was at her house, how they liked to have as many players as they could.
"And there's something else about it I know you'll like," she said with a mysterious smile. "Still adventurous, Ted?" She hadn't forgotten the steamy sexually charged games we had played growing up.
I told her I still liked to try new things. She smiled sweetly and said, "We'll see." She then asked me if I would fill in, assuming the rest of the girls and guys went along with the idea. She explained that the group had from time to time, invited select men to play. I said fine. I wanted to get to know her and her friends better. And the idea of a mostly all girl poker game was most intriguing. Kyle, it seems, was the other guy invited.
Two weeks later I found myself sitting down for a friendly game of cards with Kyle, Amy, Jill, Leslie, Diane and Donna on Friday night. It had started, they said, as an all-girl game, but had progressed to a coed one. Jenny, a regular, couldn't make it. Catherine, another regular, was out of town. Amy had suggested me instead. It seems there was some discussion about this, and some uncertainty, I suppose, because several days went by from the time Amy first mentioned it that night at dinner to the time that they actually agreed to invite me. I suspect that the idea of inviting a new man had to be approved by all. But I guess I passed. There were not many eligible men around here, as I learned later. All the guys I knew were married. Kyle was an exception. He was a single guy, a high school teacher who lived in the neighborhood. He was young and sort of bookish-looking. Women would want to mother him, I figured. So, Amy proposed me, the rest of the girls agreed, and I was invited to join them.
They were all divorced women except for Donna and Leslie, who had never married. They all knew each other, having lived together in the close proximity of the neighborhood, borrowing stuff, stopping by, gossiping—the things that suburbanites do. It seemed to me that they were just a bunch of gals who liked a night in each other's company so they could catch up, let their collective hair down, and have a little fun. Since a first outdoor BBQ I’d come to just after moving in, I had come to know them on a casual basis. I would run into one or more of the group at the store, jogging, working in the yard. There had been a few more social things.
As I said, it had started as strictly a girl game, but they really liked to have 7 players so they could play those crazy wild card games. Not my personal favorites, but it’s their game.
I took a chair at the table. There were 5 women at the table plus me and Kyle. We had been talking, drinking, eating snacks. Drinking a lot in fact--at least the girls had been. Talk was loose and so were inhibitions. A nervous excitement permeated the room that I didn't quite understand. It seemed a bit out of character for a coed "friendly game". I shrugged it off. I was having fun. Besides Amy there was Jill, Diane, Donna and Leslie.
They were all pretty hot looking women. Besides Amy there was Jill, a statuesque 5' 11" Nordic beauty with close cropped blonde hair. She looked very nice in a hip hugging miniskirt. Great legs. I very much liked Diane, a pretty, slender woman in her middle 30's, medium height with long straight dark brown hair parted in the middle. It hung down nearly to her ass. She was long-waisted and willowy, but from what I could see, she had a very nice, pert rear end. That's me, always checking out the rear view. Leslie was a pleasant looking girl-next-door with a bright smile, reddish gold shoulder-length hair and a peaches and cream complexion. The kind of girl you'd bring home to mom. I met Donna, a California blonde, a cute athletic looking girl with a dancer's body, or maybe an aerobic instructor's. Fit, tanned and healthy-looking, she had a streaked blonde ponytail with bangs in front.
These were very attractive women. And I couldn't help but notice them sizing me up. I was a bachelor, living alone. I was doing quite well with the job, so I guess I was in the game, fair game, that is, for divorcees and single women who perhaps had a bit of a problem meeting nice eligible men in that neck of the woods.
Then someone announced it was time to play. Amy got out some chips. She counted out 100 whites, 20 reds and 10 blues to each player. I had to ask, "What are the stakes?" This question was met with giggles, nudges, winks and conspiratorial smiles.
"You'll see," said Amy with a chuckle. "For now just treat the chips like money. You'll see." Addressing the others she said, "Shall we exempt him on the first round, girls?"
"Hmm...we'd better," said Donna, smiling. "We don't want to scare him off."
More giggling all around followed. Kyle rolled his eyes. I was thinking 'what the hell was going on?’ There was this secret that everyone knew but me.
"Look," I said, finally, "I'll play by the same rules everyone else does--don't make any exceptions for me." More giggling. "Well, you heard him girls," said Donna, "he's in with the rest of us."
"So tell me," I queried, "What's this big secret?"
Diane spoke up. "The big secret, Ted, is that we don't play for money--we play for spanks." They let that sink in. "Swats, licks, if you will," said Amy. Donna added, "On the fanny," and lifted her hips up to give herself a little pat on her cute rear to demonstrate. Everyone laughed. "Sometimes on the bare fanny," tittered Leslie. By now the grins were a mile wide, awaiting my reaction.
What in the hell had I walked into? I thought for a minute. I couldn't believe this! The fact was, the thought of any one of these lovely ladies getting their bottoms spanked was giving me a boner. Spanking. Whew! Truth was, this had always excited me and Amy knew it. The little minx, had lured me in.
So that was Amy's little secret. She hadn't forgotten. And it explained why, when we had run into each other, she figured me as a natural for this. She remembered the games we had played as kids and the infamous summer of the Red Bottom Club.
When we were really young it had been stuff like "school" or "house". Somebody was always getting spanked. I had given Amy plenty of pretend spankings as a result of kid's games and stuff. It was always a naughty thrill putting Amy over my knee, lifting her little dress and having her squeal for mercy as I smacked her little bottom as a penalty in some game. As we grew older it became more sophisticated. By the time we were in junior high, we were playing cards and spin the bottle, sometimes with spanking penalties. I remember we once had a ping pong tournament with the winners paddling the loser's butts with the ping pong paddles. That day I took down Amy's short shorts as she bent over the table and gave her swats for losing. She had a well developed bottom at an early age and it was a sexy pleasure to watch her fanny jiggle as I paddled her. And it wasn't one-sided. She got her licks in too.
The game we played at first was a modified version of hide and seek. We'd be out in the woods where no one could see, and we swore each other to secrecy. We split into teams of hunter and hunted. "Captured" losers were "tortured", which meant that their hands were tied to the branch of an overhead tree and their pants were taken down. A whippy switch was the instrument of torture and the victors got to give the losers 10 lashes across the bare hiney. It stung but it was sexy and exciting and it was our earliest sexual experimentation. With the girls especially, as their bodies were starting to develop, the unveiling of a bare butt was a big ceremonial event. And the girls were no doubt curious about the boys' "things". There was a lot of hopping and dancing to the tune of that switch, but it was a matter of honor to "take it". Those were the rules. And nobody cried to mommy or daddy or ratted us out. Well, almost.
I remember the first time we got caught. Connie, one of the gang, but a year younger than the rest of us, had been caught and switched. Ron had done the switching and maybe he had hit her too hard because her mom had seen her getting out of the shower and had noticed weals on her behind. She had demanded to know what had happened and Connie told. That got us all in trouble. The parents all got together to discuss it and decided that if we liked spanking games with boys and girls pants pulled down, they'd cure us of it.
Over the next week we were all grounded and each one of us got a real licking, not at all like the sexy play spankings we gave each other. This was a little country town where people did things the old fashioned way. Kids got lickings, and that was that. No fancy psychology, no behavioral counseling or any other such crap.
In my family the disciplinarian was mom. I remember the cold knot of fear in my gut when she came in from the meeting with the other parents. She said something like "Ted McCoy, so you want to pull down girls' panties and smack their bottoms for fun? And then show them your privates? I'm going to cure you of that foolishness right here and now. You just get yourself upstairs this instant!" And with that mom frog marched me upstairs to her room and grabbed her hairbrush off the vanity. I knew I was in for it.
When we got a licking in our house it followed a pattern. Mom sat on the bed and lectured while she took down your pants. Very embarrassing for a kid in junior high. If you were really in for it she skinned down your underpants too. Then she flopped you over her lap and picked up the brush. It was an awful feeling, held face down over mom's knee, butt bare, just waiting for the stinging pain to come. Pain that would reduce me from a proud young pre-adolescent to a blubbering crying mess of bad little boy.
The tanning she gave me that afternoon was a classic. And I wasn't brave. Oh, I tried to be. I tried to hold it in as that hard brush started spanking my bottom. I could envision the hard look of determination on my mom's face as she brought that brush down again and again with hard resounding splats. But instead, I yelled. I kicked my legs. I wriggled all over her lap. I bawled my eyes out like a baby. She spanked me till I thought she'd taken the skin off. I was really blistered.
Later the accounts from the other kids came in. Ron got a licking with the belt from his dad. Ditto for Brian. Lindy's mom made the punishment fit the crime. She said her mom made her cut a switch and then striped her bare fanny with it for 10 minutes solid while Lindy bent over the end of her bed, trying to hold still. Amy told me her mom had fished out her old sorority paddle and made Amy bend over grabbing her ankles. With panties at half mast her mom had punctuated a long lecture on the evils of kids' immodesty with repeated application of the paddle to her bare seat.
After that summer we were into teams and sports and we never did play hide and seek again, but I'm sure none of us ever forgot. And it didn't stop us either, although it was awhile before we got back into it. And when we did later on, it was memorable.
It defined me sexually in a way, I guess--like later had a girlfriend named Trudy who liked nothing better than to goad me into putting her across my knee. I'd paddle her cute little fanny as "punishment". This usually led to some passionate making out. I found that I liked this kind of spanking, too. A lot.
No way, then, was I going to walk away from this kinky card game. I cleared my throat and in my best attempt at nonchalance said, "Hmm... sounds interesting. I've, uh, never done anything like this." Amy rolled her eyes. I winked at her. "What are the rules?"
"Here's the way it works, Ted," explained Amy, "Everyone starts with 300 in chips. Whites are 1, reds, 5 and blues, 10. We set a timer for 90 minutes and start play. When the timer goes off, we count chips. Anyone below 300 has to 'buy' more chips from the bank to replace her losses. The losers buy chips by taking spanks from the winners. One chip for each hand spank to a panty covered bottom, two if the bottom is bare. A swat with our paddle is worth 5 chips if delivered to a panty-covered seat, 10 if taken bare. The loser can take her swats in any 'denomination' or combination of denominations. Oh, and losers must strip down to their undies for their spanking and stay that way until the end of the next round at least. At the end of the night the winners overall get to spank the losers with the differential in chips being the number of swats. This time the winners get to dictate the 'denominations' of swats. The position, you know, over-the-knee, bending over the arm of the sofa, hands on knees--whatever--is the spanker's prerogative."
"So," I said, "if at the end of the night I have 500 chips and you have 100, I could choose to give you 40 smacks on the bare butt with a paddle?"
"Yes, or if it were reversed, I could put you over my knee and give you, young man, a 200 lick bare fanny tanning," she said, eyes twinkling and a mischievous smile. "Kyle knows what that's like." Kyle squirmed and flushed, but he looked more excited than disturbed by the prospect.
"Well I must say...what a concept! How in the world did this get started? Don't get me wrong, I'm game and I'll gladly put my ass on the line, as it were, but whose idea was this originally?" I mean, how does a group of average suburbanites get into something like spanking as fun and games? I knew about Amy and me, but as for the rest, how exactly did this happen? College sorority? Old fashioned ex-husbands? I was about to find out.
"When Jill, Leslie and Diane were married we were all in a neighborhood bridge club," Amy explained. "When they got divorced, we decided to make it a girls’ card night instead. We didn't have much money so we tried playing for low stakes, like pennies, but that wasn't very exciting. We needed something to make the chips we were playing for worth something. Then somebody said, how about strip poker? We tried that and it was fun, but it was hard to structure the game for an all night thing. Once naked, well, there you are. You see, after the initial embarrassment of being naked wore off, there was nothing else to bet with. Then it was Donna, I think, who said 'what about spank poker?' And we said 'huh?'
"I just remember when I was a kid there was this one summer when I was 18 and working at this summer resort," began Donna. "The guys and girls on the staff used to play cards at night in the housing units they gave us. After we all got familiar with each other we got pretty chummy, if you know what I mean, and one night someone said, how about strip poker?' We were drinking and laughing and having a good time, so everyone said 'why not?' So started playing, and the rule was the losing hand had to take off something. It was just showdown, you know, no betting. The longer we played, the more clothes were taken off. Finally, some guy, I think his name was Terry, was down to his under shorts and lost. He blushed red as a beet, but we were all egging him on and he did the full monty and took it off. When the hilarity died down someone said, well what happens if Terry loses again?”
“We all scratched our heads for a minute, then someone suggested spanking. If someone who had lost all their clothes lost another hand, he or she would get 5 spanks from the winner of that hand. Next time he or she lost it would be 10, and so forth. If it was a same sex matchup, the winner would select a proxy. Well, that really got things going. Terry lost again a few hands later and Marilee, a school buddy of mine, made Terry plop face down over her knee and she gave him 5 sizzling spanks on his butt that left big red handprints. Everybody counted each one out loud in unison, so it was an event. By the end of the night several of us were naked and had been spanked a couple of times.”
“We later added refinements, like giving people the option of stripping completely or taking spanks. In the last refinement if you opted for spanks instead of a striptease, you drew a card to determine the number. And if the card was black you kept your panties up, but if it was red you got it bare fanny. It was exciting and embarrassing all at the same time. A lot of guys gave some pretty hot bare bottom spankings to us girls with everyone watching and cheering, and we got our turn too. It was really sexy to see some guy naked and bareassed over a gal's knee while she smacked his bare butt hard. You could tell some guys liked that treatment, 'cause when they stood back up they had woodies that wouldn't quit. And some of us girls were definitely getting wet between the legs as a result of our warmings. Then later on…well, use your imagination. It was a wild summer.”
“So, I suggested it for this group. And, to make it more interesting we came up with the 'official paddle'.”
"Interesting," I said. Amy gave me a wink. "Where did this paddle idea come from? Who injected that?"
All heads turned to Diane.
"Yes," said Diane, laughing, "I'm the guilty one. My idea. You see, I was married for 3 years to a wonderful man, Chuck." Several nodded in agreement. "Chuck died 2 years ago, but one of the things he introduced me to was spanking. Early on in our marriage he made it clear that he would not tolerate bratty behavior, as he put it. I found out one day what he meant when I threw some tantrum because I didn't get something I wanted. He put up with it for about two minutes then he sort of gave me a stern look, grabbed my elbow, and marched me upstairs. I wondered what he thought he was doing and I was squealing and protesting all the way up the stairs. He sat right down on the bed in our bedroom and told me that there was a price for throwing a childish temper tantrum, and that I was going to pay it, right then and there.”
“I was so shocked, I was frozen to the spot, but before I knew it I was upended over his knee with my skirts up and my panties down. Then he proceeded to give me the soundest, hardest spanking I'd ever had in my life. No spanking I ever got as a kid compared to this. It was like everything Chuck did. He set his mind to it and there was no stopping him. He walloped my bare butt good and proper. I thought my ass was on fire. Two or three minutes over his lap and I was wiggling and pleading like a 10 year old for him to stop. Only he kept going. I guess he wanted to teach me a real lesson about who wore the pants in our household. I wiggled and hollered, but he just kept smacking my little fanny over and over. I didn't feel much like throwing a temper tantrum then, I can tell you."
She paused a moment. "That was a defining moment for us. He told me that his father had paddled his mother on occasion and that as long as I was married to him, I could expect the same. I was young when we married and very immature. I was 19, he was 30. He spanked me for the 3 wonderful years we had together. And early on he made this..."
She got up and walked over to the wet bar to pick up an object. It was long, thin and varnished to a high gloss. Diane handed me the object which was a wooden paddle about 6" by 12" at the business end with a shorter handle. It was made of a plywood of some sort, maybe ash, about half an inch thick. The edges were all rounded and smoothed. It was polished to a high gloss.
"This is our 'official' paddle," declared Diane. "Chuck used this on me whenever he felt I was being bratty or petulant or otherwise did something to deserve a good warming. I donated it to the group when we decided to play for spanks."
I hefted the little paddle. It had a sturdy feel to it. I could only imagine what it would feel like popping against a bare seat.
"That thing can really generate some heat, Ted. Are you sure you want to play?" inquired Jill.
"We've all felt it," said Leslie, "it is definitely a real stinger. When you're getting about your 5th lick with it you wish you had not bet that two pair you had hoped to fill." Everybody chuckled knowingly.
"It keeps us on our toes. Makes it a lively game," said Donna.
"So let me get this straight. At the end of play for the night Everyone who won, that is who ended up with 300+ chips gets to spank everyone who was 300- chips?"
"That's right. Usually it's 3-3 or 4-2. We've never had a 5-1 situation," explained Jill. "We go in order. If you lose it's bare it and bend over, darling. We all know about how hard to swat which is, very firm but not all out...we don't want anyone hurt...but...it's gotta sting or else what's the point, right?"
They all nodded.
"Well....?" inquired Amy.