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Wearing a pair of lycra exercise shorts and a T-shirt, all Tony needed to do was pull up the T-shirt to see Melanie's lovely round bottom perfectly outlined by the tight cloth of her shorts, right down to the indentation of her ass cheeks.
Beginning briskly, Tony began to spank his wife's bottom. Alternating sides, he slapped first one cheek and then the other with a purposeful firm stroke.
These first smacks were like heaven to Melanie's aching body. She'd waited so long to feel the sensations of her husband's fury on her, that she was relishing every minute, even to the point that the sting was fast beginning to rise on the surface of her bottom. The longer he spanked her, the more exciting it was becoming. She squirmed, but not with pain, she was loving every minute of it.
The longer Tony went on, the more he settled into a steady even rhythm, giving her fine round bottom exactly what he needed, and what she apparently wanted. Yet after a good five minutes, Tony's hand began to ache and he realized that if he was to continue, he
would have to find some other implement to use, instead of his hand. Stopping all of a sudden, he pushed Melanie from his lap.
"Go get the butter paddle from the kitchen," he ordered. It was the first thing that popped into his mind.
"The butter paddle?" she said looking down on him in surprise. Her face was flushed and beautiful.
"You heard me."
Melanie started at his grim retort. It was exactly the way she wanted him to be, not giving an inch, demanding, not cajoling. She was on fire from the very core of her being.
"Now!" Tony reminded her, when she didn't move immediately. Melanie realized that all her excitement had made her hesitate.
"I'm sorry," she managed to whisper and she left the room on the way to the kitchen to retrieve the implement he wanted. Finding the butter paddle in the drawer by the stove, she hardly had time to think about it before she was at Tony's side again.
"Thank you," he said, when she handed him. Only then did she observe the nasty thing. Never having really thought about the possibilities of the kitchen utensil, it suddenly took on an ominous quality. The five by seven size business end was perfectly carved to do the nasty deed that Tony wanted it for. It had a functional handle that fit perfectly in Tony's hands.
Without saying a word, Tony laid the paddle down on his desk next to him, then pulled Melanie back over his lap.
"Let's do it the right way," he advised her. To her surprise, he lifted the waistband of her lycra shorts and began to pull them down over her hips. She shouldn't have been so surprised, but everything was happening so fast, she found each new step almost too much to bear. "No panties?" Tony said, noticing that she'd hadn't worn any underwear that day. "How immodest. Perhaps you were expecting this?"
She couldn't respond. Certainly the idea had crossed her mind that he'd spank her, after all she had been obsessing on the idea for weeks. But never did she believe that it would actually happen. Assuming that he'd leave her shorts at her knees, Melanie was again surprised when her husband pulled them all the way off, leaving the lower part of her body naked. Not that Tony hadn't seen her naked, she was hardly a modest wife, right now she was totally humiliated, realizing that this wasn't just a game they were playing. Tony was very serious. This was punishment, no different than that punishment applied to her Aunt's youthful rear end many years before.
SMACK!
The first smack of the paddle shocked her, and she gasped some unrecognizable cry. The smack stung to high heaven. This was nothing like the earlier admonishment he'd given her with his hand, through the protection of her shorts.
SMACK!
One stroke after another the paddle came down hard, stinging immediately on impact.
"Oh, my god," she cried after he'd spanked her a good dozen times. She groaned lustily, her body gyrating under his grasp.
From Tony's point of view, it was difficult to tell if she was still enjoying the treatment or if it was really beginning to hurt. In any event, he ignored her comments, and continued on, letting the butter paddle do the talking. He was realizing for himself that this was a sweet and well deserved justice. Why hadn't he thought of it himself a long time ago?
"Tony, please," Melanie pleaded more. Her body was still wiggling, her voice hardly distressed. Though she seemed to be protesting, she was certainly not in agony, not yet.
Wanting the message he was giving his wife to be very clear, Tony increased both the tempo and the force, so that the spanking was turning into nothing but a spirited punishment, not something either of them would consider a sexual turn on.
"Oh, my god, Tony, please, isn't that enough?" she finally wailed. The pain was becoming almost more than she could bear. She struggled against him, even though she was going no where.
"Hurts, doesn't it?" he said, pausing briefly. "It's suppose to."
Melanie supposed he was right, a spanking was suppose to hurt, but all of a sudden, she realized that real punishment didn't bear any resemblance to the fantasies she had in her head. What had started out as a vibrant erotic moment had become very painful. And with Tony showing no signs of letting up, her only choice was to endure the painful reality of the paddle on her fair skin.
When Tony was finally finished, he put the paddle down on his desk, and laid his hand on Melanie's burning bottom. It amazed him how warm her skin had become, and how lovely that warmth felt.
Melanie continued to sob for several moments, but as she became aware that the punishment was over, she too began to appreciate the fine feelings that were beginning to rise in her. Her husband caressed her very gently, the feelings very soothing to her sore bottom.
"I'm not sure I'm finished for tonight, but I think we both need a break," he told her. He continued to run his hand along her bottom ever so carefully.
"You'd start again?" Melanie asked.
