Subject: The Program
From: Solstice <solstice@usmail.net>
Date: Sat, 1 Apr 1995 01:13:34 UTC
(c) 1995 SOLSTICE
I was nervous. She said we'd meet outside the Novotel at 2:30 sharp. Where was she? She told me I'd know her by the white carnation she'd wear. Let's see. Nope. No women out here with a white carnation.
I had to calm down. I was supposed to be the one running the show. I had posted an ad on A.P.S. stating I could motivate people. And here I was pacing and twitching like a little kid.
I didn't see her until I turned around. She must have walked up behind me. Without a doubt, it was her, white carnation and all.
"Uh, hi. Irene?" I said, a little tentatively.
"Yes. Are you Solly?" she asked.
"Yes, I am," I said, trying to sound confident.
She broke into a smile and extended a delicate, feminine, hand, gloved in soft leather. "Nice to meet you," she said.
It was all very normal. The traffic passed noisily on the New York street. Pedestrians flowed around us. But we were frozen there a moment.
I was shocked at how pretty she was. And I didn't expect her to look so Irish, although I realized she had said something about that over the phone. About 37, reddish hair, light eyes. She reminded me of "Fergie," the English duchess.
"Well--uh, well, shall we go inside?" I finally sputtered. She nodded. Geez. She seemed more at ease with this than I was.
We took the elevator upstairs to the sky lobby and from there to my room. I was pleased that we had discussed this via e-mail and the phone and had agreed: no drink, no dinner, no bullshit: straight to the room for her first weigh in and a paddling. 'Simple as that.
I fumbled with the room card and the electronic lock. I was still nervous. I noticed as she stood next to me that she was about 5'6". She had on a coat, but I could tell she was slightly plump. Still, she couldn't be more than 130 or 140 pounds.
I got the door open and we were greeted with a marvelous view of Manhattan. She gasped. "Yes, nice isn't it?" I said. "I'm glad we got a room with a northeast view. Would you like some champagne?"
She hesitated, staring at the ice bucket I had left on the bureau with the bottle sunk deeply into the cold, ice filled water. "Y-yes. I guess so. Yes, I would," she said. She took off her coat and I hung it up in the closet. She was wearing a green dress, fairly shapeless, with a modest hemline just above the knee.
I came back to the bureau and quickly popped the cork and poured. I gestured toward the tray of fruit I'd gotten for us. "Have some fruit. It's all good. 'Hardly any calories."
She smiled and took an apple. I sat down and began peeling an orange.
We sat there, quietly eating the fruit and letting the wine effect us. Finally, I spoke. "Tell me about your, uh, goals here, Irene."
"Well," she said, "I would like to drop about, uh, 15 to 20 pounds." She paused. "At least."
"Uh-huh," I said in my best doctor-like voice.
"I've tried everything. I lose a few pounds, then put them right back on."
"I see. I see," I said. "Well, I think you look very nice, actually." She just stared back at me and there was an awkward moment.
"Uh, okay, I-I think I can help you," I finally stammered. I got up and went to a chair where I had my briefcase. "I brought the things we discussed," I said casually and snapped open the briefcase. I took out my paddle. It was one of those racket ball paddles, made of wood, nice and thick, with holes in it. Irene stared at it intently, nodding slightly. I picked up a piece of paper and came toward her. "Just sign here," I said.
"What's this?" she asked.
"It's a consent form. It says you are over 18 and are doing this of your own free will."
"Oh, sure," she said non-chalantly. She took the pen I was offering and quickly scribbled her name.
"Stand up," I said.
Sensing a change in the atmosphere, she got up and faced me. "Turn around," I commanded. She slowly revolved under my gaze. "You are a very attractive woman, do you understand that?" I asked.
She acted shy. "Well..."
"Listen. From now on I want you to start facing the truth, do you understand?" She looked confused. "You are a very attractive young woman and I don't want you to forget that, is that understood?"
"Yes."
"That doesn't mean you are conceited. That doesn't mean you're better than anyone else. But you are pretty. You have nice bone structure. You have a very feminine shape. If I call you 'Angel' or 'Dreamboat' or some silly name like that you are to accept it without argument, do you understand?"
She was almost blushing, her eyes downcast. "Yes," she said, smiling slightly.
"Come in the bathroom, I want to weigh you," I told her. She followed me into the large, brightly lit toilet.
"Fully clothed?" she asked.
"Yes. Fully clothed," I repeated. "Get on the scale, backwards."
"Backwards? What do you--"
I positioned her. "Here, face me," I said, gesturing for her to get on the scale so that the readout was behind her and she could not observe it.
"Hmmmm," I said, remembering the number: 146 pounds. Not bad. Then I measured her height with a tape I had. Five foot, six and a half inches.
"Okay, come with me." I brought her back out into the hotel room. This is it, I thought to myself. She sensed it too.
"Take off your dress," I ordered.
She took a deep breath, then reached behind her and unfastened the back of the garment. She pulled it off forward, then stepped out of it. She had on dark pantyhose, black panties and a white bra, all rather plain. She was well built. Her waist was a little thick. Her hips and backside were, as expected, on the plump side. But cute, overall. Very cute. My mouth was dry. I wondered if she realized how turned on I was becoming.
I cleared my throat. I tried to sound calm and professional. "Yes. You are a very attractive woman. When you--when you lose a few, uh, pounds, you will be even more attractive. I think you'll actually be rather beautiful." Then I got stern. "Now, bend over the bureau." Without hesitation, she followed my instruction. I nearly gasped as I saw her round butt loom up toward me, so inviting and feminine. "Open your legs, Angel," I said. She complied, but not enough. "Further," I said.
So there she was. Bent over, ass sticking out. There was nothing left to do, except...except...paddle her! I picked up the paddle and stood behind her and to her left. I tried to sound unexcited.
"Now, Irene. I want you to remember this. You are standing bent over, in your underwear, in front of a member of the opposite sex. A man who is about to swat you hard, right in the ass, because YOU cannot exercise enough self control to eat a proper diet."
"I understand," she said.
"Do you feel humiliated? Embarassed?"
"Yes," she said quietly.
"Good. You should. Here you are an attractive adult female being treated like a little school girl. Now, if you were an ugly woman, a homely girl, perhaps it would be understandable that you let yourself go. However, you are very attractive, so it is important that you watch your weight and your health, do you agree?"
"Yes," she said obediently. It seemed that this was killing her, but I had to admit I was enjoying it immensely.
"So, part of the reason, and it is very important that you understand this, that you are going to be paddled on your ass is because you are very attractive. Do you completely understand that?"
"Yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, sir."
"That's better. And when you get the urge to eat this week...when you feel lazy and don't want to do your exercises, I want you to think back to this moment, do you understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"I want you to think about how you felt with your pretty ass up in the air, with a MAN armed with a hard, flat paddle behind you, about to spank you."
"Yes, sir."
Without warning, I brought the paddle high up and swung, hard. With excellent accuracy, the paddle landed square in the middle of her generous backside, down low, half on one cheek and half on the other. It made a tremendous, loud, slapping noise against her ass.
Almost simultaneously, Irene stiffened and let out a loud, involuntary scream of surprise and pain. My first urge was to run out and check the hallway to see if rescuers were on their way. My second urge was to jump on the bed with a Kleenex and begin ejaculating into it. Irene's ass was firm and soft at the same time, very sexy and feminine and simply a very big thrill to whack with that paddle.
When I came to my senses again, I was surprised that 1) she hadn't moved and 2) I had a stiff, rising bulge in the front of my pants. "Wait a minute," I said quickly. I took two quick strides to the TV set and switched it on. Some gorgeous brunette was kissing some equally gorgeous blonde guy on a daytime soap. That seemed too quiet. We needed more noise. I switched channels until Sally Jesse Raphael's big face filled the screen. I cranked up the volume, then returned to Irene's rear end.
I laid that paddle on that girl's tender rear at least a dozen times. The room was filled with an odd mixture of Irene's cries, the paddle exploding on her ass and the yelling and catcalling of a daytime talk show. I was hypnotized by the woman's jiggling, vibrating cheeks. I thought I could see reddening under my paddle right through the panties and hose. Her butt wiggled, it shook, her legs bent and straightened, her hair flew, but she stayed in position and took her punishment. When I stopped we were both breathing heavily (for different reasons). I shut the TV off and lifted Irene to a standing position. I hugged her.
"Oh, you little angel," I said. "You exquisite, sweet, sweet thing, you. Yes. It's all right. Everything's better now," I cooed. She had tears in her eyes, but her face looked relaxed, released or something.
I stepped back and Irene energetically rubbed her bottom. She looked SO cute! She was murmering, "oh...ooh..uh...mmmm."
"Here," I said, "have some more champagne." I poured her a full glass and she gingerly sat on the chair next to the bureau. I nearly giggled. In a few minutes she had completely regained her composure.
"Boy, you're good with that," she said, indicating the paddle.
"Practice makes perfect," I said proudly. I watched her, drinking in the fact that I had just paddled this woman who was sitting in her underwear in front of me. "Okay, you pretty little doll," I said. "Now, you be very, very good for two weeks, do you understand? And I mean very, very good. I'll see you back here in two weeks."
She nodded but said nothing. After a few more minutes she put her dress back on and carefully arranged her clothing. Her face was visibly flushed. She freshened her make up in the full length mirror. Then she put her coat on and hesitated near the door.
"Thanks," she said. "I'll call you in a week to report in."
"Okay. Good," I said. She extended her hand and I shook it. She bent forward and kissed me demurely on the cheek. She was gone. I sighed. Well, the program was underway...
* SOLSTICE *