From: an308559@anon.penet.fi (FM)
Date: Sun,  4 Aug 1996 10:31:54 UTC
Subject: RLS#11 -- Club


STORY FROM FM: RLS#11--Club (*****, F/Fff, paddling)

* * * * * * * *  About the REAL LIFE SPANKING Series  * * * * * * * * * 
The RLS Series is an ongoing collection of real-life (RL) 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.    A certain amount of literary license
may have been taken for a more dramatic presentation.

*Please*, send me your spanking experiences!  I will rewrite and publish
the most interesting as part of the RLS series. Your anonymity _will_ be
preserved. For info,  please write to me at <an308559@anon.penet.fi>.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

________________________________________________________________________
Another erotic story from the FLOGMASTER!
Copyright (C) 1995 by FM.   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. This document may contain material
of an ADULT nature. *READ AT YOUR OWN RISK*.  Anything offensive is your
own problem.  This story is for **entertainment** purposes only and does
not necessarily represent the viewpoints of the author or the electronic
source where this was obtained.   All characters are _fictional_ and any
resemblance to real people is purely coincidental.
________________________________________________________________________


Real Life Spanking Series #11--The Paddle Club

    My name is Cassandra. I'm 35, attractive, with long blond hair. I'm
married and I have two children, a boy, eight, and a girl, age seven. My
husband is a wonderful man, kind and considerate, and we still have an
active sex life. I love him very much. But he doesn't understand my
needs.
    I want to be hurt. I enjoy being submissive. I love to be spanked. I
brought it up with John once and we tried it, but he was too afraid of
hurting me. His little love taps didn't bring out the burning of my ass
that I crave so much. More importantly, I could see that he didn't enjoy
it at all. He cried the whole time and I think he thinks I'm perverted.
I made light of the whole thing as a silly "experiment" and I've never
mentioned it again.
    But deep down I've missed it.
    A few months ago I was so horny I could hardly stand it. Though I'm
embarrassed to admit it, I went down to the basement and spanked myself.
I had this old pledge paddle left from my sorority days. I tried it out.
It worked, but I couldn't really do myself the way I wanted. It was
frustrating.
    A couple of days later, however, something happened. I was visiting my
friend Monica's house. She's about my age and also has a family. We love
to gossip and shop together. I rang the front door but she didn't
answer. Her house is a large two-story unit on the end of a cul-de-sac
and she has this huge backyard garden that is the envy of everyone
around. I figured she might be gardening and couldn't hear the bell, so
I made my way along the hedge to the back. There isn't really a path
there, just a narrow gap between the bushes and the house, but I managed
to squeeze through. Just as reached the end of the shrubbery I thought I
heard crying and perhaps yelling. Concerned, I moved faster. As I peeked
through the bushes what a delightful sight greeted my astonished eyes!
    Monica was in the garden, sitting on a lounge chair, with her two
daughters. Monica's girls are identical twins, thirteen or fourteen
years old (a little ahead of my children, so I don't know them that
well). The girls were crying. The girls were only wearing little white
panties, though they had been pulled down to their ankles.
    One of them--I can't for the life of me tell them apart--was standing
next to her mother, her hand rubbing her very red bottom, tears pouring
down her face. The other was stretched across her mom's lap and being
soundly spanked with a hairbrush. Her bottom was still white so it was
obvious her punishment had just begun, though she was screaming and
carrying on like it had been going on for hours.
    I could scarcely contain my excitement as I watched Monica spank her
daughters. When she finished with the girl on her lap she had the girls
switch places and she spanked the first girl again until her bottom was
positively scarlet. Then she went back to the other girl, who was
pleading and begging and crying as she was bent across her mom's lap.
She was making such a fuss I was glad she was going to be spanked again.
Though I'd never done such a thing in public before I slipped by hand
inside my panties and touched myself. I was sopping wet and I came twice
before the spanking was finished.
    "Now that's only a fraction of what you'll get if I catch either one 
of
you with a cigarette again!" scolded Monica. "Now get your bottoms up to
your room and stay there. Mrs. Templeton will be here soon and I don't
imagine you'd want her to see you like this."
    The two girls--darlings, I thought--stood shivering in front of their
mother as she spoke to them, their identical blossoming bodies swelling
with newfound womanhood, both marred, no _enhanced_ by the deep red
blush that coated their buttocks and upper thighs. As soon as their
mother had finished speaking the girls struggled to pull their little
panties over their swollen bottoms, wincing and crying as the silky
material touched their blazing skin. Still crying, they trotted off to
their rooms to sulk and ponder their crime and punishment.
    "You can come out now, Cas."
    I was so wrapped up watching the girls that it took me a full minute 
to
realize that Monica was standing and staring right at me. I actually
looked around before I realized that there weren't likely to be that
many people hiding in her shrubbery.
    "M-Monica," I said slowly, stumbling out of the bushes. "I-I'm so
sorry. I-I rang the bell..."
    "You were snooping!"
    "No! I wasn't... I--"
    Suddenly Monica grabbed me by the ear and dragged me to her lounge. 
She
pushed me onto on my hands and knees. Reaching behind me she flipped up
my skirt and before I could move she had pulled down my panties.
    "Quite wet, I see," she murmured, her hands exploring between my legs.
My face was so flushed it hurt.
    "Monica, please!" I begged.
    "Shut up, pervert!" she said giving my ass a hard slap. I was too
stunned to move. "I saw you twice while I was spanking Jo--you're hand
was inside your panties and you were masturbating! Don't try and deny
it, I saw it! You got turned on by me spanking the girls, right?"
    I was crying now, her hand caressing my ass confusing me. What was
going on? How did she know? I was so embarrassed but I could not think
of any valid excuse. Besides, she was so forceful I felt I could not lie
to her.
    "Yes," I sobbed. "I-I... I like spankings."
    "Good, cause I'm gonna give you some of this hairbrush!"
    Without another word she proceeded to spank my bare bottom with that
horrible hairbrush. She didn't do it very long but she did it hard. I
began to really cry I was so stunned and confused to find myself naked
in her backyard being given what was probably the best hairbrushing I'd
gotten in my entire life, better than the ones my mother had given me,
and those were doozies!
    "So, was that what you wanted?"
    She had stopped and I slowly stood up and quickly pulled down my skirt
and oozed my panties over my sore bottom. I did not reply to her
question so she repeated it. I was so embarrassed. "Do I say thank you?"
I asked hesitantly.
    She nodded so I obeyed. "Thank you, Monica, that was a good spanking."
    "Would you like another?"
    A look of terror must have crossed my face because she laughed and
patted my behind. "Not now, silly, on Saturday. I have this club I
belong to. It's pretty restrictive, but I think I can get you in for a
trial. We meet every other Saturday at 10:30 a.m. Would you like to
come?"
    "What sort of a club?" I asked.
    "You'll find out! I think you'll like it." And that was all she'd say.

    Monica called me the next day and told me it was all set. They were
having a special meeting at 10:00 a.m. to recruit me, if I was
interested. I said I was and Monica told me to think of a nickname for
myself; her own was "Catwoman."
    "We naturally don't use our real names when indoctrinating a new
member," explained Monica as though this was perfectly ordinary. I
agreed and promised to come up with a name by Saturday.
    On Saturday I could barely wait until 10:00 a.m. I was at Monica's
house at 9:00, impatient with her to hurry, though I tried to pretend
indifference to the whole affair. I didn't know what the club was,
exactly, but from the events on Wednesday I figured it had to involve
spanking. Still, though I was eager, I was also very nervous.
    It turned out the club met at the home of one of the members, though I
do not know whose. I was blindfolded for the trip over so I don't even
know which side of town it was located in, though we did drive a
considerable distance.
    My blindfold was taken off once I was inside. I was in a bedroom,
tastefully decorated with pink and blue, very feminine. There was a
white terrycloth robe on the bed and Monica told me to take off all my
clothes and put on the robe. She stripped with me and put hers on, but
she also put on a white hood that covered her face. Everyone would be
masked, she told me, until I passed the initiation. Dressed only in the
robe, I followed her out of the room.
    We came into a large room full of women. There were about a dozen of
us. Everyone except me wore a mask. As we began to mingle and chat I
began to learn about the members of this "club" as many came and
introduced themselves to me, eager to meet the new recruit. Everyone had
rather silly code names like "The Lioness," "Jingle Bells," and "Wonder
Woman." Mine seemed woefully inadequate: I'd chosen "Samantha," after
the pretty blond TV witch.
    As I spoke with the women I discovered several significant items. All
were married and had good families. As near as I could tell through the
covered faces the ages ranged from the mid-twenties to the mid-forties.
Everyone was friendly, attractive, intelligent, and self-confident.
After about ten or fifteen minutes of interesting conversation I had
decided I'd like to be with this group of women even if it had nothing
to do with spanking.
    But then one of the women clapped her hands for attention and insisted
everyone find a seat because the meeting was about to begin. Everyone
sat down, many on the floor, and listened to the leader. She was a very
tall woman, perhaps five-eleven or more, with long dark hair. Her skin
was pale and smooth but something about voice made me suspect she was
much older than she appeared.
    "Thank you, everyone. Today is a very special day. Catwoman has 
brought
us a new recruit. Samantha, isn't it?" The woman motioned to me and I
stood and bowed awkwardly, grinning stupidly and feeling rather foolish,
and walked to the front of the room and stood next to her. I felt like I
was on trial.
    "What we are going to do, Samantha, is explain a little about our 
club.
If you are interested and are willing to undergo the initiation, you can
become a full member. If you do not want to join, you may leave at any
time. Are you interested?"
    I nodded and the woman continued.
    "Good. Our association is quite informal, contrary to what it may seem
like. We don't even have a name, really, though sometimes we call
ourselves 'The Paddle Club.' We are simply good friends who share a
common interest. We enjoy pain of a sexual nature. We are all married
and have good families, but for various reasons, our husbands cannot
satisfy our fantasies. So rather than remain frustrated and illcontent,
or seeking out extra-marital affairs, we come together. Together we
satisfy each other's need for pain. In short, we meet every other
Saturday and spank each other silly!"
    I gasped and looked around the room. Heads were nodding. "Could this
really be possible?" I thought. It seemed too good to be true.
    "Samantha, joining our association means accepting our rules. We have
strict rules of privacy and mutual concent. Nothing here is forced, no
one is punished without their permission. As many here come from
prominent families in the community where knowledge of our activities in
the wrong hands could lead to the distruction of marriages or careers,
it is imperative that you guard our secret with utmost care.
    "If you fail the initiation or wish to leave now you may do so without
harming us in the least. You do not know any of us nor know how to find
your way back to my house. However, if you do wish to join our "Spanking
Club" then you are accepting a great responsibility. We do not want you
to accept such a burden without serious consideration. Do you understand
what I have explained?"
    "Yes," I said, nodding slowly.
    "Do you have any questions?"
    "Well, there's one thing I was wondering..." I said softly, blushing 
at
my gaul.
    "Yes?"
    "This club... you said it's about spankings. I understand that, but...
does it include, uh, sex, uh, too?"
    The woman's face was hidden but she did not appear upset by my
question. "You mean between ourselves?" I nodded and she shook her head.
"That is not required, though again anything you do on your own is none
of our business. It must be consensual, of course. You are not required
to participate. Most of us here are happily married and have no sexual
interest other than our husbands--we just seek a little spice we can't
get at home."
    I nodded, amazed at how accurately she had described my own marriage.
"What exactly is the initiation?" I had a terrible feeling I knew what
it was and I was frightened, but excited, too.
    "You wish to join?"
    "I think so. What do I have to do?"
    "Well, we must know that you are serious in your intentions... so we
will spank you, of course. Each of us. You will drop your robe and go
around the room and lie over each member's lap and receive a good,
sound, hand spanking on your bare bottom. When you have finished you
will take a caning from me, up here in front of everyone. The severity
of the caning will depend on how cooperative you were during your
spankings. Each hesitation or outcry will add a stroke to your
punishment. However, if at any time you change your mind you may say the
safeword 'rhubarb' and you will be blindfolded and taken home, never to
return."
    I felt a tremendous tingling between my legs as she spoke these words
and I couldn't help but look around at all the women. Suddenly there
seemed to be twice as many as before. I swallowed, wondering how I'd be
able to endure it, though I very much wanted to.
    "Two other things," said the leader. "One: once you leave you never
come back, never. It's in or out but not both. You get one opportunity
and that's it. This is your only chance. If you choose not to take it
you cannot come back in a month and say you have changed your mind.
    "Two: the initiation is quite severe. This is done to make sure you 
are
ready to join and provide you with a sense of perspective. Future
spankings as part of the club may not necessarily be so harsh, unless
you desire it, of course. I tell you this because not everyone has the
same cravings. Some like it warm; some like it hot." The lady paused for
a moment and held up a long whippy cane in one hand. When she spoke
again there was a dreadful silence echoing around the room.
    "So, are you willing to join?"

    Somehow I did it. It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do and I
almost quit several times during the ordeal, but somehow I managed. I
kept thinking of Monica and the others who had passed it, and I told
myself I was making up twenty years of silent fantasies in one go.
    At first it wasn't too bad. I undressed in front of the others, which
was rather embarrassing. I'm proud of my body--I work hard to keep it in
shape, but it had been years since anyone but my husband had seen me.
The leader--her code was "Peaches"--made a big show of putting oil on my
bottom, rubbing it in good and deep and whispering that I'd need plenty.
It made me feel quite apprehensive.
    The first spanking was from Peaches herself, and it was a doozy. I
never knew a hand could hurt so much. The slaps were so loud it must
have hurt her hand terribly to spank me like that, but she didn't let up
until she'd given me the full twenty-five on each cheek. But when she'd
finished my bottom felt warm and tender and my crotch grew damp just
thinking about it.
    The next spanking was similar but different. They all were different
somehow, each unique in their own little way. This girl was large and
had big thighs. I felt tiny as I stretched across her lap and received
those terrible spanks from that massive hand. Her spanking hurt very
much. I believe that was when I had my first doubts.
    But again when it was over I felt good and hot and my sex was wetter
than ever. The next girl pointed this out for everyone to see and
squeezed my bottom cruelly before, during, and after the spanking. I was
whimpering when she finished, and not nearly so wet.
    By the fourth or fifth spanking my sex was going dry and my resolve 
was
weakening. This was going from painfully erotic to simply painful, and I
still had more than half a dozen to go. Somehow I managed.
    Twice they paused and creamed my bottom with oil. The massage hurt 
like
hell but felt wonderful, especially when they stopped. My bottom seemed
to simmer under the oil, and the skin felt itchy and ticklish. Even my
thighs were blotched with pain.
    I think Monica was number eight, or maybe it was nine. I kinda lost
count for some reason. Hell, it might have been seven or eleven. I just
remember really feeling this spanking, the girl slapping me really hard
right in the same two spots over and over again, alternating between the
left and right cheeks. All I could do was try not to wiggle (impossible)
and pray that it would be over soon. Right near the end I kinda went
numb. The spanking continued but I almost relaxed. I remember thinking
that the girl's thighs were very smooth and sexy, and then wondering why
I would think such a thing, when I heard Monica's voice in my ear:
"Toasty enough for you, little spy?" I'd completely forgotten about her
and suddenly I was mortified that she see me like this, and I wanted to
run away and hide. Instead I got up and did my best regal walk over to
the next girl and bent across her lap.
    Everything became a blur after that. I remember strange little things
about all the spankings: the smell of a particular perfume, the way a
hand scratched my skin or patted my bottom, a soothing voice that
spanked me extra hard, a young girl who tried her best but didn't really
suceed in hurting me that much, a woman's crooked toes, a single hair on
a calf, etc. Mostly I remember the incredible feelings, the
wonderful-awful stinging, the pleasant throbbing after a spanking, the
dread in the pit of my stomach as I walked toward my next punisher, and
the frustrating tension between my legs that couldn't quite decide
whether to be wet or dry.
    Looking back it was wonderful, a blissful abandonment of my soul, an
incredible release. But at the time I was too busy crying to notice
much.
    But the worst, the worst was the caning at the end. I remember feeling
astonished and grateful when I discovered I had taken all my spankings.
The girls all clapped and cheered and Peaches ordered me to the front
for my caning. My head felt dizzy at the thought of the cane, but I'd
already gone this far there was no turning back now.
    I'd cooperated well, Peaches told me. I'd just need to take six 
strokes
(three standard and three extra, two for crying out and one for
hesitating). I suppose I should have felt grateful, but I only felt
terror as I bent over and grabbed my ankles, my buttocks screaming in
pain as the skin stretched.
    Peaches stood behind me and told the crowd to count the strokes. The
first cut sizzled across my thighs. It felt like a hot wire against my
legs but it wouldn't go away. My legs were trembling violently when the
second cut landed full across my sore butt and I almost screamed. I
practically had to swallow my tongue to keep it in and I think I cried
more during those few strokes of that cane than I had during all the
previous spankings.
    On the third one the pain reached some kind of peak. The cane struck
the lower portion of my ass, right where the butt meets the thighs. My
skin there was so agonized and tender I swore I couldn't feel more pain
if I'd tried.
    I barely remember the last few strokes. They hurt and prolonged the
agony, but my mind blurs everything together at that point. All I
remember is _pain_. I was shaking and weeping when they lifted me to the
couch and poured soothing salve on my burning ass.
    I was shivering uncontrollably but I couldn't stop smiling. The women
had torn off their masks and were laughing and introducing themselves.
Everything was whirling. I saw Mrs. Cachetori, the mayor's wife! And
Linda Grayson, the minister's daughter. Monica hugged me and said she
was proud of me.
    "H-How l--l-long..." I stammered.
    "The club?" I nodded frantically.
    "Since early last year. Susan--Peaches--started it three years ago and
it's grown by four or five per year since."
    "Why didn't you tell me?"
    "Well, I didn't know, Cas. You kept your secret well hidden, for 
Pete's
sake! You didn't even mention it to me, your best friend. To tell you
the truth, I'm a little hurt."
    "I thought I was alone."
    "Sshhh," said Monica, putting her finger against my lips. "You are
never alone, not here. We're all sisters and we share everything. Now
you be quiet and rest. It's _our_ turn for a little fun. We're going to
play one of our favorite games--it's called the 'Circle.' Watch! You'll
be able to participate at the next meeting!"
    I watched helplessly and with undeniable fascination as the couch I 
was
on was wheeled out of the way and the chairs and coffee tables were
cleared, leaving the center of the huge room empty.
    As I watched, the ladies all took off their robes and stood naked in a
long line. One by one they took slips of paper from a small box and
formed a large circle, their order apparently dicated by the papers.
Then Peaches, er, Susan, brought out an amazing collection of canes,
whips, belts, leather thongs, and paddles and dumped them in the center
of the circle. I noticed each implement was tagged and the girls
promptly began requesting various devices by the numbers on their slips
of papers. The ordering was apparently completely random, as each girl
expressed surprise or delight at the tool they received.
    Then Susan started the music, a slow instrumental piece that gradually
picked up force. The girls all turned to their right to girl in front of
them and slowly began to lightly spank the exposed bottom with the
weapon she'd been given. Suddenly the room was filled with the sounds of
leather and wood smacking naked flesh. It was eerie, it was thrilling.
I'd never been so aroused in all my life!
    The slow music played for several minutes and suddenly shifted to a
light rock tune and Susan cried out "Reverse" and the girls switched
direction and began to spank the woman on their left side, the girl
they'd just been punishing now getting the opportunity to spank her
tormentor. It was brilliant. It was devilish. I wondered who had thought
of it, but then I saw the almost evil delight on Susan's face as she
wacked at the bottom in front of her with her leather paddle. Behind her
a short blonde girl whipped Susan heavily with a leather cat but she
didn't seem to mind in the least.
    The music changed every couple of minutes, the women changing 
direction
each time, the pace increasing with each new song. By the third song
most of the girls wore pink bottoms and thighs, some redder than others.
The entire game lasted for about ten minutes, and every bottom I saw
looked pretty well thrashed. But the woman were laughing as they moaned
and rubbed their behinds. Several were rubbing their clits, and one
couple was lying on the floor in a "69" position, head to crotch and
licking each other out.
    "So do you like my shorts?" I stared at Monica in disbelief. Her 
rather
generous ass was an even color of red all the way down her thighs,
almost to her knees. Indeed, her backside did look like it had on a pair
of skin-tight red shorts.
    "I got stuck between Shelly's wooden paddle and Eleanor's leather
belt," Monica said ruefully. She giggled. "No break for the wicked, I
guess. Oh, I can't wait to get home! I've got to get some _release_!"
She stretched herself as tall as she could and then touched her crotch
and I saw she was dripping. "Bob will wonder what came over me tonight,"
she winked. "I'll be an animal!"
    I just lay on the couch, my jaw still dropped, and shook my head in
stunned silence. I couldn't keep up with the pace of change. Everything
was upside-down. That my best friend had a secret like this and had
never told me... it was absurd, and yet, well, I guess it made sense in
a weird way. After all, I had kept my desires secret for almost my whole
life, scarcely admitting them to myself.
    Monica took me back to her house and lent me the special pillow she
kept just for driving home after her Saturday meetings. I sure needed
it. My ass was so sore the way home seemed paved with cobblestones. But
I knew Monica was right about one thing. I couldn't wait to get home
either. My husband wasn't going to easily forget our sex tonight, that
was for sure. I felt I'd had enough foreplay to last me... well, for
about two weeks!