From rdragon@ix.netcom.com Wed Dec 25 11:35:46 1996 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: FATHER OF THE BRIDE PART ONE From: rdragon@ix.netcom.com(***) Date: 25 Dec 1996 16:35:46 GMT F //Title: Father of the Bride, chap 1-3 NOTE: The original was received as a single file. I have split it on chapter boundaries into parts to meet email size restrictions on some systems. Assume the following story is fiction. Copyright 1994 by the author. All rights reserved. To be redistributed only with permission of the author. Archive permission has been granted to the "hermes" file server. (That's where you *should* have obtained this file.) Feedback solicited. Comments, suggestions, criticisms to an50731@anon.penet.fi. Table of Contents: Chapter 1. The Bride-to-be Chapter 2. Father of the Bride Chapter 3. Cooperative Agreements Chapter 4. Logic and Philosophy Chapter 5. On the Hot Seat Chapter 6. Reverie Chapter 7. Of Mice and Moms Chapter 8. The Task at Hand Chapter 9. Wedding Day Chapter 10. Mysterious Wedding Presents Chapter 11. The First Mysterious Present Chapter 12. The Second Mysterious Present Chapter 13. Explanation Chapter 14. Second and Third Items Chapter 15. Caught! Chapter 16. Duplicity Chapter 17. Fulfilling the Bargain Chapter 18. Mother and Daughter Chapter 19. Barbara Chapter 20. Lisa Chapter 21. Secret Codes Chapter 22. Credit Chapter 23. Balance of Power Chapter 24. Father and Mother of the Bride Chapter 25. Amy Challenges Chapter 26. Warm Up Chapter 27. Demonstration Chapter 28. Barbara Accepts the Challenge Chapter 29. Barbara Stands the Test Chapter 30. Dinner Conversation Father of the Bride Chapter 1. The Bride-to-be "Why did you decide to get married in the winter? It's cold and wet out here!" The day was made for trudging. The rain was pouring down, and every step they took left momentary footprints on the sidewalk. The umbrellas were useless with the gusts of wind, and water was beginning to collect in the bottom of their plastic shopping bags. The three shoppers remained in high spirits, but it was taking more of an effort. "I'm not getting married outside, silly! It certainly wasn't *my* idea to drive downtown today," Amy retorted. She still wasn't completely sure what her two best friends were up to. She had let them lure her downtown on the pretext of finding "something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue." But what could she borrow downtown, except trouble? Amy was quite the adventurous one, though, and looked forward to the surprise she thought her friends had in store for her. Dianne spoke up. "That's right, Kim. It *was* your idea! And I still think it was a good one. Let's get out of the rain, and we'll feel better. Nordstrom's is just a block over, and they have a place we can eat lunch." Amy didn't really care where they went. She was quite willing to play along with whatever their plan might be. But mostly, just one thing was on her mind: Only two weeks, and she would be married to Jeff! With thoughts of Jeff, she bounced between feeling cold and wet, and feeling excited and wet. These two weeks would seem to drag on forever, she was sure, in spite of all the details she had to work on for the wedding. Nordstroms. Their newest destination reminded Amy of something. "Mom has a charge account there," she told the others. "I'm sure she'll let me use it, if we find something really nice. Let's get out of the rain!" It would be weeks before Amy realized it was this little comment that led to such a life-changing series of events. Chapter 2. Father of the Bride "Just five days, and my little Amy will be married," Tom mused to himself. He would be glad when the wedding was over; both he and Barbara, his wife, seemed to spend every extra moment with wedding details. But it was worth it; Jeff seemed a good choice of husband, and they (of course!) wanted the best for their firstborn daughter. Little Amy? Not exactly. Tom realized his daughter had grown into a stunning beauty. She remained a very conservative dresser, but whatever she wore always seemed to look just right on her. Yes, stunning was the best description. She was no airhead either, though she could give that impression when it suited her purpose. Jeff would have a handful, all right. The phone rang. It was Barbara. After they talked together a moment, it was obvious she was concerned about something. "Did you do any shopping at Nordstrom's last week?" she asked. "No, why?" Barbara explained that the monthly statement had just arrived, and included several hundred dollars' worth of charges from last week. Who could have charged on the house account then? "Was that the day Kim and Dianne took Amy downtown?" Barbara said it was. "I forgot we gave Amy permission to use that account years ago. She's never touched it since high school. Do you think she might have used it without asking last week?" Tom replied, "I think we'd better find out tonight. If it was her, she has a lot of explaining to do. If not, we'll report the forgery tomorrow. I'll call Nordstrom's today and see if they can dig up the charge records-- and have them stop any further charging!" They speculated for a few moments longer as to what could have been bought with all that money. Certainly they hadn't noticed Amy with anything new besides the sweater she showed them last week. Tom hadn't been off the phone to Nordstrom's for more than five minutes when it rang again. "Dad?" It was Amy. "Your mother and I were just discussing you. Where are you?" "That's what I'm calling about. I'm at the police station." "What! Are you hurt? What happened?" "No, I'm fine. But we had a little problem and they won't let us go home unless somebody picks us up. They said we need a bail bond." "Just what happened? And who's 'we'?" That was the tough question, but Amy was anything but stupid, and knew it was going to be asked. "Kim and Dianne are here with me. They accused us of shoplifting. They don't care if we're really innocent or not. They say we have to stay here overnight unless somebody posts bail. Dianne's not 18 until next month, you know, so they are about to take her over to 'Juvy Hall'. They're just waiting to see if you'll pick us all up. I've been trying for an hour; your phone was busy." There. She'd said it just right, implying the whole matter might be a horrible mistake and nothing for her father to get too terribly upset about. Tom caught the "Miss Innocent" act, and decided to reserve judgment until he had the whole story. It was time to make it clear that he knew there was more to the story than had yet been explained. "I was on the phone to Nordstrom's. That's why you couldn't get through. Do you know anything about some in-store charges made last week?" Amy mentally kicked herself. She'd forgotten all about that! This wasn't going to look very good. She did her best to explain. "Oh. It was an emergency. I was going to tell Mom about that right away, and then I forgot-- I was so cold and wet when I got home... They're scowling at me here. I'd better get off the phone soon. Could you please come pick us up?" That answered the forgery question. Tom had confirmed that the charges were made by his daughter. For one about to marry, she should know better! So he told his daughter, "I think an overnight stay would probably do you a lot of good. You'll have plenty of time to think about what's right and what's wrong." Tom was very big on Right and Wrong, and his daughter knew it. "Daddy, please! They said we could go if you bail us out. I'm scared of being here overnight. Please come get us?" Tom thought about it. A bit of a scare might be just what she needed to bring her back down to Earth. On the other hand, he'd hate to have her hurt there. First, to be sure she knew this was serious--he was not about to bail her out with no questions asked. "I'll tell you what. Since you probably only get one phone call, I'll call Jeff for you. Seeing as how he's about to marry you, he ought to be anxious to bail you out. I don't know about Kim and Dianne; I suppose I could call their father for them." Kim and Dianne were sisters. "Please don't tell Jeff! I'd die! Please, PLEASE come get me!" "Maybe Dianne's father would rather bail you out? I, for one, think a stay overnight would do you some good." Amy knew her father was backing her into a corner. She did not like that at all, and was even more mad at herself for letting herself get into this mess. How much would she have to admit, how many promises would she have to make before he would agree to come get them? She'd do anything to get out of there, especially without Jeff knowing. It was just a matter of finding the right words to say. First she had to explain why Dianne couldn't call her own parents. "Kim and Dianne are afraid to call. Dianne got busted once before-- that's why they insist on bail. She's sure her Dad would ground her for life if he knew. So Kim's stuck too. If he bailed out Kim, obviously, he'd find out about Dianne." Actually, grounding would be the least of Dianne's worries. She would most likely spend the first day of grounding waiting for her back side to cool off. But Tom didn't need to know that. "All right then. I'll come get you. But understand that actions have consequences. Anyone I bail out tonight comes straight home to discuss things with me and your mother. Don't expect us to go easy on you. After you hang up, tell Kim and Dianne that if we bail them out too, we'll have the same discussion with them that we do with you. It's their choice. Are you sure you don't want to stay there and think about it?" This speech gave her pause. Was her Dad reading her mind? When she was a little girl, talk about actions and consequences always meant a spanking was on the way. She'd not heard that phrase in many, many years. She was a full- grown adult now. Surely he didn't think he could still spank her? And what about her friends? No, even when she was little, she'd never been spanked in front of any of her friends. And certainly none of her friends had been spanked by either of her parents. So this must just be part of the game, backing her further into a corner. Besides, just about anything would be better than spending the night where she was. "I'm sure, Dad. Please just come get me." Chapter 3. Cooperative Agreements After receiving the necessary instructions, Tom hung up the phone and reflected a few minutes. A disciplined and careful person, he rarely took action without thinking things through first. A plan had been forming in his mind while he was on the phone, and he now considered what additional groundwork might be necessary before meeting the girls. He'd used that phrase with Amy almost automatically, to point out what she *really* deserved. But now that he thought it over, he it realized it might turn out that spanking *was* the appropriate action to take, even at this point in life. Just in case, then, he would lay the proper foundation, obtaining the necessary permission and cooperation. Even if a spanking proved unnecessary or counterproductive, this extra "clout" might help to get the message across to people who did not want to hear what he had to say. Now that Tom had thought things through, he gave Kim and Dianne's father a call. They passed the time of day for a few minutes. Neither cared to talk about sports, but both were accomplished outdoorsmen, and talk about the weather led up to Tom's reason for calling. "Do you remember the time a few years back that your girls went with us for a couple of weeks?" "You mean when you took them all the way out to Bryce Canyon? They had a great time. I heard all about it. I think the one loop you walked is still the longest hike they ever took." "Yes, that was quite a trip. What I was remembering just now, though, was an offer you made before we left. We never needed to take you up on it, but I'm wondering if it might still apply." "What was that?" "Well... I just got a call from Amy. She's with Kim and Dianne, and the three of them seem to have gotten themselves in trouble. I don't think Kim or Dianne are ready to face you yet. It looks like it might work out best if I bail out all three at once, and I'm wondering if it would be a good idea for me to treat your two daughters exactly the same I do Amy. "Back on that Bryce Canyon trip, you said to treat your daughters the same as I would my own. If they needed spankings, to go ahead and spank them. Of course, that wasn't necessary the whole trip. "But from the confused story Amy just told me, I'm wondering if the best thing possible would be to hand out spankings all around. Then I remembered what you said years ago, so I thought I'd call just in case that's how I deal with Amy. "So what do you think? Would you rather I send Kim and Dianne home whether they're ready or not, or deal with them the sam˙˙˙˙ Amy? Or should I give you a call once I get the whole story?"" Fred was accustomed to making quick decisions. After a few moments of surprised thought, he replied. "There's obviously a story here that you're being careful to not tell me. Please assure the girls that we'll listen; we'll try to wait until they're ready to explain. "In fact, if punishment is necessary, and that can be handled without our intervention, maybe they'll feel more free to come tell us. If you don't disclose that you and I have talked, just tell them that you'll intervene on their behalf--you know, the old 'good guy/bad guy' routine. "If they agree that they'd prefer to be treated the same as Amy, and that they'd rather have you and Barbara deal with the situation, go right ahead with what you think is best. If they need a spanking, go ahead and spank them. Just so all three are treated fairly. Don't let them fool you. Kim and Dianne have both been spanked before. In Dianne's case, it was not all that long ago. Fred hesitated, but then continued. "You don't need to tell me, but I think I will let you in on a secret to keep to yourself. If this problem has anything to do with shoplifting, be careful to not go too easy on Dianne. We have been through this before. If I'm guessing wrong, please forget I said anything! We'll be home; feel free to call if you need to. Let me know how it works out. Good luck!" "Thanks. I don't know the whole story yet, but so far as I can tell it has nothing to do with immoral behavior. There doesn't seem to be anything to worry about in THAT direction." "Well, that's something. I suspect I know the problem, but I'll wait for the whole story. Let us know if we can help." That conversation went surprisingly well. Now it was to the bank, and then time for the final piece of groundwork. He made a last telephone call to set up an appointment at the police station and get directions to the station. His appointment was with the desk sergeant, as it turned out. It was a slow night, and the sergeant was willing to take the time to discuss the situation. The sergeant agreed the plan just might work, shaking up the girls enough to keep them on the right path in the future. Seeing as how it was the first time for his daughter, and if all went well no police help would be necessary, the sergeant was willing to make the exception needed to support Tom's plan. All three girls were waiting for him. Women, not girls, he had to keep reminding himself--after all, Kim was the same age as Amy, and Amy was about to get married. Dianne was four or five years younger than her sister, but dressed to look as close to her in age as she could. The sergeant made his speech to the girls. He had seen a lot of women who started out in exactly their situation. He described their experiences the second, third, and (in some cases) final time. Most of these people were now dead. He explained how and why. The sergeant was good at what he did, Tom could see. The sergeant now moved from the horror of what happened to most, to the good news that it need not end that way. The really smart ones--and he could name some of them too--chose to learn their lesson the first time. These three at the moment, at least, obviously intended that this be the only lesson necessary. The sergeant finished up by explaining that he hoped that they would listen to Amy's father, who at least cared enough to come get them, and try to set them off in the right direction. He had made an agreement with Tom, he explained, which was this: They would discuss tonight how to deal with the situation, and where to proceed from here. If at any point Tom didn't feel he was getting sincere cooperation, he was to bring them right back down to the station. If they wouldn't come back with him, he (the sergeant) would send an officer out to pick them up. Could he do that? Yes, he could. If they ended up back here, that obviously meant that they wouldn't learn the easy way. He, the sergeant, assured the women they would have a rough night if they ended up back here. They would do their best to ensure the women learned, one way or another, what jail could be like. This threat was in a normal tone of voice, but all three women shuddered. Even Tom wasn't quite sure the sergeant was acting. It was almost like a sadistic jailer inviting the women into his special "play room." The sergeant concluded by saying that he got off duty at 2 am, but if Tom called before then, he could easily arrange to be there the rest of the night. He glanced at the women, and you almost wondered if he was about to drool and lick his lips. As the three women shuddered--more noticeably this time--and looked towards the door in obvious hope of deliverance, the sergeant gave Tom a broad wink. "Be sure to call and tell me how things are working out." Tom had to put on his fiercest scowl, to keep from chuckling in relief. The drive home was quiet. None of the three young women wanted to be the first to speak, and Tom preferred to wait until they got home. From rdragon@ix.netcom.com Wed Dec 25 11:36:51 1996 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: FATHER OF THE BRIDE 2/9 From: rdragon@ix.netcom.com(***) Date: 25 Dec 1996 16:36:51 GMT Assume the following story is fiction. Copyright 1994 by the author. All rights reserved. To be redistributed only with permission of the author. Archive permission has been granted to the "hermes" file server. (That's where you *should* have obtained this file.) Feedback solicited. Comments, suggestions, criticisms to an50731@anon.penet.fi. Chapter 4. Logic and Philosophy Home, for Tom and Barbara, was at the eastern edge of the suburbs, near the base of the Cascade Mountains. Their home had originally been shamefully far from town, but with more people building homes in the area, they were now considered suburban. Tom and Barbara lived on nearly a full acre of land. About half of it was wooded with tall douglas fir trees, and planted with 20-year-old spruce, western redcedar, and hemlock trees. The wooded portion of their yard was kept pruned and brush-free, the rich soil matted with fir needles. Because of the shade, Barbara could get little to grow beneath the trees. When they were growing up, their two daughters used to play many games in "the woods." They would often come back inside fragrantly smelling of crushed spruce and redcedar needles. For several years it seemed that Amy needed to be constantly rescued for one reason or another, usually because her younger sister had tied her to a tree. Amy was the more adventurous of the two, but the younger sister always seemed able to extricate herself at need. But this afternoon "the woods" was a rainy, soggy, dark background. (It was raining again, but that was normal for February.) The remainder of the yard was also soggy, but colorful. Colorful, that is, if you happen to enjoy green. Green grass, just a few green weeds, green moss (three different shades), and green juniper bushes. The rhododendrons and roses would provide a brilliant display in the summer, but right now everything was dormant for the rainy season. The house was brightly-lit and inviting, a two-story farm house with basement. (There was no farm, but it was supposed to look like a farm house anyway.) The outside was painted sky blue with white trim. Today, with the lowering skies, it looked like battleship grey. Barbara was waiting for them at home. She looked even more disturbed than Tom--but it had been a long week of wedding preparations. She directed everyone in to the living room and sat down next to Tom. The next two hours were filled with tearful remonstrance. It took a while for everyone to get the story straight. The initial story seemed to leave out a few details, and ignored the concepts of right and wrong. The whole story, as it finally developed, was this: Dianne was a habitual shoplifter. She couldn't help it; it was practically an addiction. She'd pretty much gotten caught at Nordstrom's. Instead, the girls agreed to put the charge on Barbara's in-store account. They were going to explain and make good right away. But things didn't quite work out. The story was that, today, they were trying to *return* things when they got caught. The store manager had told the police that they were already suspicious. The three of them had been closely watched, and that's why they got caught. So was this all Dianne's fault? Well, no, not exactly. Kim and Amy had benefited at least once each in the past, and "sort of" encouraged this behavior. It was Amy who signed the Nordstrom's charge. And this from a woman about to be married? Tom was a systems programmer by trade, and made a habit of looking at things logically, breaking problems down into their component parts. Now that he had the situation identified, he proceeded with the question: What issues still need to be dealt with, and what can we do to prevent the problem from happening again? Tom announced his solution. "Okay, here's the deal. Starting tomorrow, each of you need to make a list of each person you've stolen from. You need to apologize and make restitution. You might want to ask each one to forgive you." "But Daddy, I don't have that much cash. How am I going to pay them back this week?" "Sell your car. If you need to, find other things to sell. Let's not forget that you *are* in the wrong here." This statement got all three of the young women wound up. They went around and around about whether Tom was being reasonable, and whether it was physically possible, even if they had the means, to pay back every person they had wronged. They finally came to the agreement that each woman, by tomorrow, would make a list of each *known* theft, and an estimated amount. Tomorrow, then, they would together work out a plan for getting everyone repaid, realizing this might involve selling off a few essentials. Tom assured them that such a written plan would make things easier as they discussed the problem with each of their victims. Now came the main event. Kim and Dianne would have to explain the situation to their parents, and Amy would have to tell Jeff. Tom was willing that they wait a few days before breaking the news--this way, at the same time, they could also show the progress they had made at setting things right. But they had to give a "full disclosure" before the end of the week. Tom's reasonableness, of course, was again called into question. Amy did *not* want to tell Jeff. Tom was willing to let Amy wait until she and Jeff returned from their honeymoon trip, but no longer. With Kim and Dianne, Tom relented. Provided they kept to the agreement, and accepted the remainder of their punishment, they would not be required to tell their parents. "Please, Dad, if I can get everything straightened out before the wedding, couldn't you let me start with a clean slate? It would mean so much to me. I'd never forget if you forgave me this one last time." Barbara had been quiet for several minutes, but saw it was time again for her to show her support for her husband. Barbara said, "It's already getting late, and you're just wasting time. I think you'd better hear Amy's father out before you start arguing. Amy, he's still your father and I think you need to show him a little more respect." Her words would not seem to carry very much weight--there was really nothing stopping the young women from walking out--but they had their effect. Amy asked, "You mean there's more? I guess we'd better hear it." Now it was time to get nervous. She suspected what was coming, but could hardly believe it was possible. "Oh yes indeed, there's more! We talked about restitution, but we have not talked about punishment. Theft is still a crime, whether the goods are returned or not, punishable with jail time. "I discussed this with the desk sergeant. You saw me talking before picking you up. I explained that I needed an alternate plan in case I found you three rebellious or uncooperative. He doesn't normally do this, but as you heard, he agreed to allow me to turn you back in! "So, you see, you have two options. You can take the 'official' route, returning to the station tonight, and making do as best you can. Or you can take the 'parental guidance' route, accepting discipline and instruction from us. Which will it be?" Amy replied, "It looks like I'll be spending all week apologizing to people. But I guess I'd rather do that than spend the time in court. I do NOT want to go back to that hateful station!" Tom continued, "That sounds about right. In fact, if you can get everything cleared up before your wedding, you won't need to tell Jeff." Tom turned to the sisters. "Kim and Dianne, what about you two? Shall I deal with you two the same as Amy, or send either of you back to the station?" Kim answered for both of them, "We'll take our lickings here, along with Amy." "Fair enough. Now what punishment do you think is appropriate to the situation? Is there anything short of jail time that would keep you from pulling this ever again?" Nobody had any suggestions. Tom and Barbara waited expectantly. The young women had obviously thought of a thing or two, but were reluctant to mention anything for fear it might come to pass. Just apologizing and paying people back was obviously deemed insufficient, and being placed on restriction was pointless with the wedding less than a week away. Amy made one last try. "You know we're really sorry. You've made your point. Couldn't you just forgive us? It seems to me that would be the 'right' thing to do." She knew the answer from her childhood memory, even before it was given. "Certainly we can forgive you, and all the store owners can forgive you, but that does not alter the fact that actions have consequences. Either way, the shoplifting still happened." "There was that phrase again," Amy thought to herself. "Actions have consequences." She knew what was coming for sure, now. Amy practically wailed. "Surely you don't mean to spank me! You haven't spanked me in years and years! You said yourself that I'm too big to spank. What good would that do?" Tom replied, "Let me put it this way. If you were younger, and behaved as you did, would you feel yourself deserving of a spanking?" Amy was crying a bit, but they were not the tears of sorrow she used to cry when about to be spanked. Rather, she was feeling sorry for herself; she was grown now and did not deserve to be treated like a child. She was not to the point of snuffling yet, and replied in a small voice, "I suppose I would deserve one if I were little. But I am NOT little. You're not being fair!" Indeed, was he being fair? Yes, he was; she had the option. But would it do any good? Tom wasn't sure. It *did* sound a bit crazy. "To be fair, you have the option of returning to the station." Amy shook her head at this, as Tom continued, "But you obviously don't want to take the adult consequence. Remember, you're in the big time now, Amy. That was a real police arrest. You have a real police record, which does not please me in the slightest. Since you don't want the adult consequence, the child's consequence seems logical. Maybe that will help remind you to stop acting like a child. Remember that tears and restitution, so long as both are sincere, have always been a good combination." Tom again asked if anyone had a better suggestion, one that was equally likely to achieve the intended deterrence. The young women looked at each other, but nobody spoke. "Very well, then. Kim, do you also agree to a spanking, making restitution, and hopefully disclosing matters to your parents? You *are* an adult, so the spanking is entirely your option. I will do my best to make it worthwhile--that is, I will try to make you cry even though you're a grown woman. Is that what you want?" Kim replied, "It's not exactly what I *want*, but I guess I'm stuck with it. Go ahead if you think you must." "So you agree to everything?" "Yes, except I don't know if I'll be telling my parents or not." "Fair enough." Tom turned to the youngest. "Dianne, same question. I'm sure it's not exactly what you want, but is it fair enough? Are the spanking and restitution acceptable?" Dianne figured she was getting off easy. She answered, "Yes." Tom was struck by another idea. "I just had another thought, Dianne. I'm not sure a spanking will be all you need to cure you of the shoplifting habit--but I'll do my best. Will you also agree to get counseling related to stopping the habit, beginning this very week?" "Okay." "Care to guess what the consequence will be if you don't follow through?" "Another spanking?" "Right. Will you also agree to that, or whatever your father decides?" "I'd take the spanking. But I'll go get the counseling--really, I will." "How about you, Amy? How long's it been? At least eight years, maybe ten? Do you accept a hard spanking as a fair punishment, and agree to make restitution this week?" "I guess so. I already said yes." "Very well. Rather than telling Jeff, what do you expect as a fair consequence of not getting everything cleared up this week as promised?" "It sounds like I'll be getting another spanking if I don't do it. But I promised I would, and I will." "Good. Now then, I don't think we'll do this in private--I don't think that would be quite appropriate under the circumstances. Please take a chair from the kitchen to the rec room and we'll meet you there. I don't think you would want to be spanked here, so close to the front door. "If anybody needs to use the bathroom, now would be a good time. You know where it is." It seemed everyone suddenly needed the bathroom. Amy took a chair back to the rec room and then joined the sisters in the bathroom. This turned out to be a twenty-minute break. Tom realized all that talking was thirsty work, and used the time to down two glasses of orange juice. By now it was too late in the evening for anything with caffeine, or he'd be up all night. That wasn't the real point, of course--Tom simply liked orange juice, but had not wanted to interrupt the tearful discussion for such a mundane consideration. Tom had a good sense of the ridiculous. Holding up a spanking for a glass of orange juice! Barbara caught him chuckling to himself, and he explained the humor of the situation. "Here we are on this solemn occasion, with three women about to get their bottoms warmed--but they're hiding in the bathroom and I'm enjoying my orange juice! We're all acting the part. Amy, Kim, and Dianne are acting like little girls trying to put off their punishment. I think it's finally beginning to sink in. And here I am, analyzing the situation. "Well, it's time for the ceremony. Do you want to remind the girls of what they're here for, or shall I?" Just like old times, Barbara called to the children in the bathroom, noting that their time was up, and that keeping "your" father waiting would not be a very good idea. Washing-up sounds continued, but the door soon opened. Chapter 5. On the Hot Seat Everyone filed in to the rec room. Tom crossed to the window to draw the drapes. The window only looked out on "the woods," but he considered spankings to be private and automatically shut out any chance of onlookers. This room was a warm, cozy room, decorated in earth tones, with woven wall hangings. One wall was entirely given over to book shelves, with a television set in the corner across from the couch. Furniture consisted of the couch, a wicker chair, and a couple of bean-bag pillows the girls used to lay on as kids. There was the chair Amy had brought, right in the center of the rec room. It certainly looked ominous, but Amy reminded herself that it was just a spanking, and would soon be over. Barbara seated herself in the wicker chair by the window, and the girls sat together on the couch. Tom turned the chair to face the couch, and sat down. "Amy, you're first." Amy stood up and took five reluctant steps to stand next to her father, and knelt across his lap. "Nice try, Amy. I'm sure you haven't forgotten. Hard spankings are always on the bare bottom. You'll need to slip off your jeans and panties." "But Dad, I've *grown*. Can't I just keep my panties on?" "This will be a spanking you won't want to have repeated. Take them off." It was difficult from this ignominious position, but Amy managed to unsnap her pants and push everything down to her knees. It was very hard to do while keeping her thighs clenched together, and Tom grinned at her dilemma. That still wasn't quite enough, though. "Take them all the way off." Amy complied, using her toes to slip each opposite shoe off, then twisting around to reach her knees and tug everything off as one unit. The socks came off, too, so everything was bare from the waist down. Except for her blouse, which Tom tucked up out of the way. "My goodness, you *have* grown. You were just a girl the last time you were spanked on the bare bottom. Are you ready?" "Dad!" These comments on her womanhood were embarrassing her. So far as she was concerned, now was not the time to be commenting on how grown up she had become. She knew her father was toying with her. "Yes, just get it over with." Tom began to spank the bride-to-be just as he had in years past. Even when she was eleven or twelve, 5 or 6 hard swats was enough for tears and uncontrollable crying. Amy clenched her cheeks, as always, and made his hand hurt. With three people to spank, this just wouldn't do. "Amy, relax." She did, but her whole body seemed to say, "Just get it over with." Tom delivered twenty slow, hard swats, by far the hardest spanking he'd ever given. The sharp report of each swat sounded loud in the room, and it was accentuated by Amy's complete silence. The sound had been made from the palm of his hand, Tom realized, and it was starting to seriously hurt. And two more people to spank! Tom paused to massage his hand. It was nearly as red as Amy's bottom-- in fact, the palm was turning a little bit blue. Amy had remained motionless through the entire ritual. After a few more moments, Amy asked, "Can I get up now?" "Yes, you may. This isn't working. You might as well put your panties back on." Amy slid off Tom's lap, turned and quickly slipped her panties on. They were both tight and sheer, and--to her obvious surprise--suddenly uncomfortable. "Well, at least that's something," Tom thought to himself. "My hand won't last very long at this rate. Amy, go see if you can find that old paddle we made for you and your sister. It's probably still on the top shelf in the basement, over towards the left. You'll probably need to wipe it down with a damp cloth to get the dust off. Check quickly, please!" Leaving her pants on the floor, Amy went in search of the instrument of her punishment. Even when applied with only moderate force, two swats had always brought tears to her eyes. Kitchen-sink noises soon announced that she had found it, and she soon returned to hand the paddle to her father. The two sisters had remained motionless the entire time Amy was gone in search of the paddle, not wanting to draw attention to themselves. They were, no doubt, contemplating their fate. Except for having to bare their bottoms--that would be horrible by itself--Amy's spanking had seemed bearable. Bearable, that is, until she had been sent to fetch the paddle. Kim and Dianne could but watch in trepidation to discover their fate. And who would be next? But Amy had returned now, in blouse and panties, carrying the paddle in her left hand. It looked so small! It was hardly larger than a wooden spoon, true, but had always appeared a large and fearsome instrument when the girls were younger. "So," Tom thought to himself, "even this might not do the job." "Back over my lap, please, with your panties off." Amy appeared to have adopted a fatalistic attitude, and complied without further protest. She slipped her panties back down past her knees and stepped out of them, not bothering to try to cover herself. She immediately placed herself back across her father's lap. Legs together, bottom up, feet down, hands and head down. She was determined to go through with it, and be adequately cooperative. By now her bottom had toned down to a soft red blush. After a couple of taps to get the swing right, the first swat of the paddle changed Amy's whole perspective. "Yeouch!" Her right hand shot back to cover her bottom. "Amy, keep your hands down," Tom chided. "I shouldn't have to hold them." Once again, she complied and tried to relax. At least now she knew what was coming and could prepare herself for it. Tom continued with slow, medium-hard swats. "So that's still enough to get her attention," he thought to himself. He could see the tension rising as he worked back and forth with a steady rhythm, smack, smack, stopping after twenty blows. This was a serious spanking. Amy could obviously feel it now, but she still wasn't crying. But it looked like she was close--the last few swats had each brought a slight gasp. Tom stopped and looked at the paddle. It was--let's see--seventeen years old. Half a year younger than Dianne. He'd made it himself, out of the sugar maple out front. It had been struck by lightning the previous summer, but he did his woodworking (paddle making, that time!) over the winter months. Yes, it was "soft" maple carved seventeen years ago this month. It showed no signs of deterioration or cracking, so Tom figured he could use it rather more severely without danger of breaking anything. Tom brought the small paddle up and took careful aim, placing his other hand on the small of her back. This one ought to hurt. It did! With a screech, Amy shot straight out with her hands covering her bottom. She hung still in the air, with her back arched and her feet straight out, arms behind her. "Relax and put your hands down. There's a lot more to come." Part of this punishment was psychological. Tom, of course, knew Amy had never had a long spanking before. Even the worst of offenses had been handled with a dozen slaps of the hand or a half-dozen from the paddle. And tears had never been in short supply. This time, though, it seemed useful to give the impression of an endless punishment, each stage more severe, with plenty more to come. Amy resumed the submissive position, but this time with obvious trepidation. Tom inquired, "Can you lay still for the rest, or will somebody have to hold you down?" Amy said she'd try to keep still. She clenched her fists. The next swat was just as hard, and elicited another screech--but Amy managed to stay still. Tom took aim, and delivered another hard one. And another. He didn't want to tire too quickly, so he started to wait, resting, a good half minute between swats. This time seemed like forever to Amy. The two sisters sat on the couch in stunned silence. Tom glanced at Barbara. It was hard to read her expression, but Tom was sure it was not disapproval. He would carry on. Five or six minutes, and a round dozen hard swats, finally took Amy to her limit. The loud lamenting finally turned to tearful sobbing. She finally sounded like a spanked little girl, tearfully promising to be good. Tom had no comment. He brought the paddle down again, hard. Back came the hands. "Barbara, could you hold Amy's hands, please?" Barbara walked over. "Give me your hands, dear. I'm sure this will be over soon." Amy brought her hands back down and her mother took a firm grip on each wrist. "Yeoww!" Amy cried louder still, yanked at her hands and began wiggling around Tom's lap. Both Tom and Barbara had anticipated this, however. Barbara held on, and Tom wrapped his left arm around Amy's waist. He waited for Amy to settle down, and then waited a little bit longer while his arm rested. Amy lay there sobbing. She couldn't stop crying. Amy's bottom was a deep red. It looked like she would probably keep some bruises through her wedding. Well, that was okay; what would she be needing to sit down for? Tom tightened his grip around Amy's waist and took note of what looked like the most sensitive spots. Wow! Right on target, with a loud bang! Amy expected this one, and shrieked nearly before it landed. Now she was *really* desperate. She yanked and pulled and kicked and wailed. Yes, she was definitely feeling her punishment now. "Kim, I need you to hold Amy's legs for her. With a bare bottom, all this kicking just won't do." Tom's wry voice said he wasn't concerned about getting kicked, or concerned about Amy getting her legs in the way. Quite the opposite--Tom was adding to the punishment by pointing out how much more she should be embarrassed. Amy suddenly realized what had happened, and she clenched her thighs together, still kicking a bit from her knees, like a novice swimmer. It was a little late, but she tried to keep from exposing her most intimate parts to her father. Kim held Amy down by the knees. Kim took care to keep herself well clear of that paddle. She knelt across Amy's ankles, pressing down with her hands just below Amy's knees. This was not too easy with stockings on, but Kim managed. Barbara knelt to hold Amy's head and shoulders down, folding Amy's arms together behind her back and taking a strong grip. Amy was stuck. Amy was completely helpless, exposed from the waist down and displaying a burning red bottom, with one of her best friends wrapped around her bare legs. Amy could only guess how intimate a view she was giving Kim. The fact that Kim would be soon in the same predicament probably made things nearly as bad for Kim. Not that Kim's sympathy was of any help to Amy! But Tom figured Amy had pretty well gotten the message by now, and there were still two more to spank. Time to finish up. He planted his left hand on Amy's lower back for leverage, and quickly brought the paddle down-- hard--four times, right, left, right, left. Amy struggled frantically, but it was in reaction to the punishment, rather than from an attempt to escape. In fact, Tom was proud to realize, Amy had never attempted to escape. They had brought her up right--down deep, she remained obedient and respectful. Tom set down the paddle on the floor. "That's all, Amy. They can let go as soon as you settle down." Amy immediately stopped struggling, and Kim and Barbara stood up. Both returned to their seats. Amy lay there snuffling for another few moments. Now that she had stopped thrashing, her tears were forming a puddle on the floor. She stood up. Now there was another problem. Both her jeans and panties would be too tight for her poor swollen bottom. What to do? "Dad, may I go grab a skirt or something to put on?" "No, I think you should stay here." Tom paused and then continued, "That was a lot harder than I had intended. But you wouldn't cry, and it seemed pointless to have a spanking without you being really sorry. Are you sorry now, or just mad at me?" The tears had slowed down, but were still coming. Amy tugged at her blouse to cover her hips a bit--in fact, if she stood still, the blouse was able to cover everything important. "I guess I'm sorry. That really hurt a lot, but I guess I did ask for it. And I'll make sure it never has to happen again!" "I don't suppose you'll want to sit down, so just stand by the couch if you like." Tom turned his head. "Kim, it's your turn." From rdragon@ix.netcom.com Wed Dec 25 11:38:19 1996 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: FATHER O F THE BRIDE 3/9 From: rdragon@ix.netcom.com(***) Date: 25 Dec 1996 16:38:19 GMT //Archive-name: FathrBride.2 //Author: an50731 //Title: Father of the Bride, chap 6 & 7 Assume the following story is fiction. Copyright 1994 by the author. All rights reserved. To be redistributed only with permission of the author. Archive permission has been granted to the "hermes" file server. (That's where you *should* have obtained this file.) Feedback solicited. Comments, suggestions, criticisms to an50731@anon.penet.fi. Chapter 6. Reverie She did not expect to enjoy it, but Kim had a good idea of what was coming. It had been a lot less than eight years since *she* had been spanked. The week she turned thirteen, she had protested that she was now too old to be spanked. Both parents had been present. It was her mother who answered. "The day you turn 21, you will be too old to spank. Until then, if you ever need a spanking, you will get one." Kim's parents had already discussed the matter between themselves. They went on to tell Kim that they hoped today would be the last spanking she ever needed. There were plenty of other ways to get the point across if need be-- and, they hoped, she had pretty much outgrown the need for any punishment at all. They assured her that so long as she began to act more and more like an adult, they would treat and respect her more and more like a young woman and not just a child. But her father repeated their promise, and she knew there would be no argument. "Until you are 21, if you truly earn a spanking, I will give you one." Then her father had ordered her across his lap. She was wearing jeans-- how she wished that they had been a pair with pockets in the back--but her bottom soon felt like it was burning up. And this was right in the living room, with her mother watching. She was so embarrassed to be spanked in front of her mother at that age. She was determined not to cry. But her father had a heavy hand--even through her denim pants--and the tears soon came. By time she was allowed up, she was sure her pants would show scorch marks. They had been true to their word. She got one that day, but never again for over a year. In fact, by time she was sixteen she had only received one more. She even went out of her way to get that one: Her parents had been relaxing her limits, and she wanted to see how far she could push. She found out. Once was enough; she never pushed those limits again. Both parents were present for that one also. She was wearing a canary yellow miniskirt that day, almost too small for her. She was spanked in the living room again. This time her father directed her to bend over the left arm of the couch (left, that is, from the perspective of someone sitting on it) and lay along the seat cushion. Fred pressed down on her back, so that her stomach was laying on the cushion. She was told to bring her knees forward and press them against the side of the couch. That left her bottom so high in the air! The miniskirt was far too tight (which was part of the reason for the spanking), and she felt horribly exposed. Again, she associated a spanking with mortal embarrassment. Her skirt just barely kept her panties hidden. Holding her steady with his hand pressed into her lower back, her father spanked her bottom extremely thoroughly that day. Kim kicked and sobbed and wailed, but she was pinned to the arm of that sofa. There was no escape from those burning, punishing blows. That spanking seemed endless, but it actually "only" amounted to a dozen solid swats. Kim writhed on the couch, grabbing the edges of the seat cushion in her distress, the fabric soaking up her tears. Once released, Kim hid in her bed room the rest of the evening, she was so embarrassed. She had cried to herself for over an hour. That should have been her last spanking, but it wasn't. The whole year she was sixteen, she was a model citizen. Use of a car was a privilege to be earned in her family, and she wanted to prove her parents' trust was well placed. As indeed it was. It was when she was seventeen--a high school senior--that she found out that even the freedom of one's own car was not without limits. This was an act of wilful disobedience, pure and simple. She knew it, and her parents knew it. Even as she gave them, Kim knew her excuses to be rationalizations, merely attempts to ignore that what she had been doing was wrong. The reasons seemed good at the time; she'd believed her own excuses until confronted. Funny how that happens. In Kim's family, there was only one answer for wilful disobedience. She knew that, and her eyes started to water. Knowing she was seventeen years old and truly deserving of a spanking brought the tears down her cheeks. Kim by now stood taller than her mother. It had been years, but... "I guess I'm getting a spanking, aren't I?" Yes, but that was not all. First she was sent to fetch her driving license, to turn it over to her father with a promise to not drive anything-- even a go-cart--in the next 90 days without her father's explicit permission. Depending on circumstances and behavior, she *would* be allowed to use her car on occasion. Then came the spanking. She still blushed to think of it. Bare hand on bare bottom. She had earned it, and she was paid in full. Kim preceded her father to her room. At least she would be spanked in private this time. Kim's room was not particularly large. Her bed, desk and chair, single book case, lamp stand and dresser took up most of the floor space. The walls were decorated with posters, most of them featuring an outdoors or animal theme. Her father pointed, and directed her to kneel down by the edge of her bed. He had pointed to the right side of the bed close to the foot. There was no footboard. This was different. When she was little, her father always sat on the bed, or in her chair, and placed her across his lap. But this time she was directed to lean over the bed, her knees on the floor, laying along the foot of her bed. Her father paused a moment, then directed her to sit back up long enough to bare her bottom. She was to pull down her pants and panties. Then she could lay back down. How she had protested! She was offered a six-month driving suspension just for the privilege of arguing. Did they have a deal? No they did not. No deal. She slipped her pants, and panties, down to her knees and lay back down. Her father stood by her head facing the other direction, and placed his left hand lightly on her back. With his right hand, she discovered, he planned to freely swing down at her bottom. So that was it. She would be getting a spanking like she had the last time, when she had been forced to lay over the edge of the couch. And so she did. The first blow was a shock. It had been many years since she had been struck on the bare bottom. My, did it sting! But her father spanked her and spanked her. Kim began kicking to ease the pain, but her pants were in her way. Her father held her in place on the bed with his left hand. He had to lean his leg up against the bed to keep her from falling off the bed. But even with all that kicking, her bottom had still seemed to be perfectly exposed. Her pants, tangled around her knees, kept her from getting her feet in the way (as if that would have helped anyway). Her father just kept on spanking her. She was seventeen years old, getting the hardest bare-bottom spanking of her life. Her bottom was still sore the next day. The last time came just four months short of her parents' promised deadline. Kim was nearly twenty-one now, and well past the era of being punished with a spanking. She was home for the summer between her sophomore and junior years of college. Between the merit scholarships and her parents' support, all of her school and living costs were paid--she didn't need to work during the school year, as so many of her friends did. In return, she studied as hard as she could, and had made the Dean's List all six quarters. She was justifiably proud of her accomplishment. But standards of conduct at school were not the same as at home. Without quite realizing it, she had become resentful of little things like folding other people's laundry, being home by 10:00 or explaining where she was, and keeping her room presentable. By the end of that July--two and a half years ago now--her parents had run out of ways to tactfully handle the situation. But it was the mouse that brought on the crisis. Chapter 7. Of Mice and Moms It was irresponsibility that cost her this time. Kim had gotten into the habit of leaving food around the house--dirty dishes and half-eaten snacks. The rest of the family was tired of picking up after her, and complained about it to each other during family dinners. Kim rarely joined the family for dinner. She ate when she felt like it, never at the table, and left the dishes where they lay. Her younger sister-- now in high school, but likewise out of school for the summer--thought this especially unfair, since *she* could not get away with such behavior. But they all figured Kim was having a hard time adjusting to home life, and were trying to give her as much space as they could. Everything changed when Kim's mother found the mouse in the living room, nibbling on Kim's leftovers. Oh, the noise! Any visitor in the next few minutes would have run for the police, thinking somebody was getting killed. Finally mother and younger daughter cornered and (oh, gross!) killed the mouse. Nobody else was home, and they did *not* want the mouse to keep running around. Kim's father got an earful when he called his wife over lunch break. This time it was Kim's mother that insisted on a spanking. Whether Kim chose to move out of the house or not, it would be after a jolly good spanking. Kim knew something was up when she returned home to see a dead mouse on her dinner plate, next to last night's leavings. How gross! She knew that look on her mother's face. Her stomach started to churn. She knew Dianne was home, but was tactfully absent. Probably hiding in her room. Another bad sign. "Oh, Mom! I'm sorry. I know you said we'd have a mice problem. I kept forgetting. Will you forgive me? I'll go check for more dishes right now." "All the food is cleared up. I even checked your room." Rooms were private. A closed door traditionally denied entrance. "You have a few minutes before your father gets home. Freshen up, if you wish, and think about what things need to change if you want to continue living here." That last statement stopped her. Yes, Mom was serious! She was probably just reacting to the mouse. Who would want to spend a day with a dead mouse in the living room? Hopefully Father would calm her down when he got home. Such was not to be. She got it in private that evening, as she nearly always had in the distant past. But she was older now, and knew a little about the ways of men (but not nearly as much as she thought she did). She figured, correctly, that total cooperation was the key. She decided to ham it up just a little, acting humble and penitent, in hopes that he would go easy on her. Kim preceded her father to her bed room, the same as that last time she remembered painfully and well. Kim was fully grown by now, midway in height between her mother and father. She had taken her mother's hint to bathe and change. She had debated about what to wear. If she wore denim jeans, she was sure they would be taken down. That would be too much protection, and hurt her father's hand. Kim chose a white linen dress, conservatively cut. The elastic waist was topped with a narrow dark-red belt; the skirt was narrow and reached nearly to her ankles. A slit in the back reached just above her knees. With just the right amount of makeup, Kim looked quite grown up. Ever so politely, one adult to another, Kim closed the door behind her father. "Could you excuse me while I remove my shoes and stockings? I am afraid of snagging them. Do I need to slip off my panties, too?" "Yes, the panties come off. Let me know when you're ready." Fred turned to face away from his daughter, clasping his hands behind his back. The rustling of fabric indicated his daughter's progress in undressing. Kim's perfume filled the room. When had she started wearing perfume at home? "I'm ready, I guess." Fred turned around. Kim was standing near the foot of her bed, panties and stockings folded on top of her dresser. She had placed the shoes just in front of her closet. "Do you want the chair?" Fred directed his daughter to lean across the foot of her bed, the same as last time, and to lift her skirt up out of the way. Kim knelt by the bed and scooted the dress up above her hips. The belt held the white linen in place around her waist, with the remainder bunched around her stomach. Kim lay across the bed, arranging the bunched-up dress so that it would not be wrinkled too badly by her weight. Kim was taller now, and Fred noticed his daughter presented a far more womanly back side than the last time she had bared her bottom years ago. Fred decided he could spank her more effectively if he placed a pillow under her stomach, elevating her bottom. "Wait a minute. Kim, please take a pillow from your bed--no, take both-- and place them on the edge of the bed under your hips. Then you can bend over again." "Please, Dad! I'm already getting it on the bare bottom! That would expose *everything*!" "I want your bottom where it can be best spanked. That means I want it high in the air. In a few minutes, your bottom is going to be extremely sore, young lady. This spanking is a month overdue, and it's going to be a good one! Let's try it with one pillow, and see how you do." Kim stood up, pulled the pillow out from underneath the bed spread, and placed it along the edge of the bed, where her hips were to lay. Fred spoke again. "Go ahead and slip out of that dress so you don't wrinkle it so badly. I've seen everything before, you know." With a groan, Kim did as she was told. Twenty years old, and practically naked for a spanking. Just as if she were ten years old and need not worry about modesty. The fact that she had earned it, with her childish, irresponsible behavior, just made things worse. Kim briefly considered refusing. An adult now, she could simply refuse to allow her father to treat her like a child. But her mother had their response clear: In that case, she would be finding another place to live for the summer. Best to put up with the spanking. She had to smooth the lower part back over her hips to remove the belt. Kim crossed her arms and slipped the whole affair off over her head, laying the dress out on her bed. Modesty was now pointless. Bending over to place her hands on the bed in front of the pillow, Kim lowered herself into position. Fred had her scoot forward so that the pillow was below her stomach, under her hips, leaving her back arched and her bottom high in the air. Then came the spanking. Yes, her father could still spank hard! Kim had more flesh back there, now, and it jiggled with every impact. Her bedroom walls had been mostly bare since she went off to college, and each spank echoed loudly in the room. She was sure her mother and kid sister were listening. She knew she would be mortified later, but she made a big point of how much it hurt and how sorry she was. Her crying was as much in embarrassment as in pain, and by the end of the spanking it was almost completely sincere. This spanking was rather longer than anything she had previously received. She kicked her legs all over, wailing about how much her bottom hurt. She sacrificed all thoughts of modesty to the hope that the spanking would soon be over. She tried to bring her knees forward, but the edge of the bed caught her thighs. Rather than bringing her bottom down, this convulsive movement had the opposite effect. Levered against the edge of the bed, she threw her bottom up higher just as her father was delivering another blow. Smack! That *did* hurt. She slammed her hips down into the pillow with a despairing wail. But that last swat seemed to satisfy her father. The spanking was over. Kim lay there squirming on her pillow, repeating over and over again how sorry she was. She may be a grown woman, but she appeared a repentant, well-spanked one. Asking her to be out in a few minutes for dinner, Fred left the room, closing the door behind him. The tears stopped as if by a faucet. Kim continued to squirm on the pillow, for her bottom really *did* hurt. The burning heat seemed to be seeping in deeper and deeper. Kim decided to roll over onto her back, with her bottom now laying on the pillow. Ouch! Kim stopped moving for a moment, allowing her back side to return to an all-around burning sensation. Then her hips began to move again, with her knees well-spread, for the heat seemed to have moved around between her legs. Now would not be a good time for one of her parents to open the door! But she had little fear on that point; her privacy had always been respected. Her fingers helped to relieve the pain, but her bottom felt warm until long after dinner. Kim planned to remain virgin until marriage, but she knew how to take certain matters into her own hands (so to speak). And that spanking had the desired effect, the same as they always had. That is, the spanking brought her to her senses. She decided she would rather shape up than move out. After a day of slinking around the house in utter embarrassment, she spent the rest of the summer as her cheerful old self, and her parents were quite proud of her. That spanking proved to be an icebreaker of sorts. She and her mother had many talks, one woman to another, and they became closer than ever. Kim's mother came to realize--and pointed it out to Kim--that much of the problem in July was from depression. As she had become more wrapped up in how sorry she felt for herself, she was pushing other people away. As people began to lose patience with her, and avoid her, she just felt worse. Self pity became even worse behavior--a very destructive cycle. It could have gone either way, mother and daughter realized, but that spanking turned out to be the best medicine possible. Until that summer, Kim had associated being spanked with unbearable pain and embarrassment. She continued to take spanking as a message to change her behavior, and in that sense realized that her spankings had always been in her best interest. But this time she had shed modesty (in the interest of lessening her punishment) and she had managed to transfer the heat of her bottom into a sexual heat. But she was very sure she did not need a spanking to generate sexual heat, and avoided repeat occurrences until safely past her twenty-first birthday. From rdragon@ix.netcom.com Wed Dec 25 11:39:00 1996 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: FATHER OF THE BRIDE 4/9 From: rdragon@ix.netcom.com(***) Date: 25 Dec 1996 16:39:00 GMT //Archive-name: FathrBride.3 //Author: an50731 //Title: Father of the Bride, chap 8, 9, 10, & 11 Assume the following story is fiction. Copyright 1994 by the author. All rights reserved. To be redistributed only with permission of the author. Archive permission has been granted to the "hermes" file server. (That's where you *should* have obtained this file.) Feedback solicited. Comments, suggestions, criticisms to an50731@anon.penet.fi. Chapter 8. The Task at Hand "Kim, it's your turn." She was already blushing deeply as Kim snapped back to the present. Thinking back on that last spanking gave her something of a plan for this one. She determined that she would learn her lesson from this spanking too. She would not rebel; she would use this as a catalyst to "straighten out and fly right." With that determination came the realization that she didn't really need this spanking; she had already learned her lesson and changed her attitude. However, she was quite obviously not going to be let off... yet. Like last time, she figured her best strategy would be in total cooperation, complete and sincere contrition, and perhaps just a touch of the dramatic to emphasize how severely she was being punished. Kim was dressed to be noticed. She was just wearing a plain skirt and blouse, with white stockings, but the deep-blue-and-white combination worked well on her, and the simple lines emphasized the contours beneath. After all, she had been out shopping, and always dressed the part. Kim stood up, slipped off her shoes and zipped her skirt down the side. She stepped out of it and folded her skirt on the couch--just like this was an everyday occurrence. Without pause, she smoothly continued to slip off her stockings and panties, placing everything on top of her skirt. Kim walked over to Tom, with a slight swing to her hips as if she had on a bikini swimsuit or something. She bent right over his lap, settled into the proper position and asked, "How's this?" "This" was fine. Kim's loose blouse slid up to her shoulders. Kim pulled it back down (up, actually) and returned her hands to the floor. The blouse was of loose, slippery material, and was obviously not going to stay in place. Kim would just have to live with it, wishing she'd chosen a more substantial brassiere that morning. Seeing as how this was not his daughter, Tom decided to get this task over with as quickly as possible. He picked up the paddle and gave two slow medium-hard slaps, one to each side of her bottom. Each got a loud "Ouch!" Yes, that paddle looked small, but it still seemed pretty effective! Tom had the range, now, and proceeded directly to the hardest swats he could manage. Just two of them had the woman kicking and squealing. Barbara came over to hold Kim's hands, and Dianne was quite happy to hold her sister's legs. Six more swats seemed to be adequate. Kim was nearly uncontrollable in her contortions and begged to be let off. She had learned her lesson. Amy remained standing next to the couch without comment. Tom returned the paddle to the floor; Barbara and Dianne released the victim. Kim stood up, still sniffling, and smoothed her blouse back into place. She returned to pick up her skirt, leaving panties and stockings on the couch. "Wait." Barbara had spoken up. "I'm not buying those crocodile tears. Kim might be able to convince Tom she's sincere, but she's not fooling me. Kim, can you stand there and tell me you didn't exaggerate the least little bit?" Oh, oh! The tears started flowing again. "I learned my lesson, really I did. I decided I would change even before he finished with Amy. I knew you wouldn't let me off completely, but wasn't that enough? Please? You really did make me cry." Tom glanced at Barbara. She wasn't buying it. Tom knew to trust her judgment when it came to other women. Tom pronounced the new sentence. "Kim, a girl being spanked is *always* sure she's learned her lesson without the necessity of actually going through with the spanking. By time the spanking is half over, she's sure she's had more than enough. "Back across my knees, please. You're getting the same spanking all over again, only a little bit longer this time. I want to make absolutely, positively sure that your tears are sincere this time, and that you're not trying to pull one over on me. So I will just keep spanking until I am *sure* you're sorry." The obvious implication was that Tom would not be so easily convinced. Rather more slowly this time, Kim cooperated. Tom could not help but note that having such a beautiful 23-year-old woman laying across his lap was quite enjoyable. With her blouse riding up, and that wry joke of a brassiere Kim was wearing, she might as well not be wearing anything. Tom knew there would be plenty of twisting, kicking, and struggling this time. He would definitely need to keep himself under every bit as strict a discipline as he was placing on Kim. Tom wielded the paddle with a steady rhythm this time, as hard as he could manage but with only five or six seconds between swats. He let Kim kick and buck all she wanted to. He paused the first time she brought her hands back, to catch them and hold them in his left hand behind her back. He held her by the middle of each forearm, so that each hand was touching the opposite elbow when she relaxed. This far up her back, she had no leverage available to struggle with her arms. While gripping her arms tightly, he let her twist as much as she wanted--the view was delicious. However, Tom was not paying enough attention. Rather, he was paying attention to the wrong things--Kim managed to twist herself right off his lap. She crouched there on her hands and knees, sobbing most sincerely. Before she could think of what to do next, Tom dropped the paddle, picked her up by her hips, and placed her right back on his lap. He motioned his wife over to help by holding Kim's hands out of the way. Tom took a firm grip around Kim's waist. The paddling continued. Kim began wailing most sincerely now; she had had enough and was afraid the punishment would never end. She had nothing left to promise, and no thoughts of modesty as her legs flailed the air. Enough was enough. Tom lay the paddle down on the floor once again. He quickly invited Kim to rise--she wasn't even done kicking, and she couldn't hear him over her own crying. He asked her again, and began to help her up; he daren't spend too much time admiring his handiwork. Amy had remained standing quietly by the couch, observing the proceedings. She glanced down at herself--she was still only wearing the blouse--and blushed again, deeply. She knew she had made just as much a spectacle of herself as Kim had. When she was little, she had always been too busy crying to worry about such things. But with Kim demonstrating what she herself must have looked like, she became even more deeply embarrassed. No, she did not want to go through that ordeal twice! Barbara offered Kim some Kleenex to wipe her eyes. Kim's makeup was hopeless, but at least she could keep from staining her blouse. Once her face was back in order, Kim carefully replaced her skirt. Like Amy, she opted to remain standing. Dianne had a little bit of that trapped-animal look in her eyes. Tom spoke. "Now, Dianne, isn't it because of your activities that Kim and Amy just got the spankings of a lifetime?" Dianne was obviously in for a bad time. She had started crying, a little, before Kim had gotten her second spanking. Still, she knew that she, of the three, deserved the worst. She had gotten her friends in deep trouble indeed; she wondered if they would even continue to talk to her after this. "I'm really sorry Kim and Amy got in such trouble because of me. I hope they will forgive me. I guess you'd better give it to me worse than you did Kim. But... would you consider allowing me to keep my panties on? It's my time of the month." Both of Dianne's requests were granted. Dianne retained her panties and laid down across Tom's lap, but with her head to Tom's right. Using both hands to hold Dianne in place, Tom invited Barbara to "do the honors." Barbara's hands were small enough that she could grip the handle with both hands. From a standing position, she made a strong impression on Dianne. Dianne tried to cooperate, but could only stay still for the first four blows. After ten of Barbara's two-handed swats, Dianne was frantic. She begged to be let off. She tried to struggle off Tom's lap; she tried to put her hands in the way. Tom kept her back side in place, and Barbara was relentless. Dianne started cussing and swearing--neither of the older girls had-- and managed to kick Tom in the head. Dianne, though frantic, was obviously far from repentant. At Barbara's request, Kim held her sister's shoulders down, with her hands wrapped behind her back; Amy took time to replace her panties with a grimace, and then took a strong grip on Dianne's flailing legs. All Tom had to do was keep Dianne from squirming past his knees onto the floor; the women had taken over the rest of the work. Barbara appeared to be full of righteous indignation on behalf of her husband. Kicking him in the head indeed! And the words Dianne used! (As if she had never heard them before? Ha!) Barbara might have been driving a fence post with that paddle. Down it came, Whump. Whump. Whump. The panties absorbed part of the sharp smacking sound. Dianne's foul language was swallowed up in her sobbing, rising shriek. She assured all of them she was very, very sorry. She continued to struggle frantically. Tom had Barbara pause. Dianne gave a shudder of relief. Tom rolled Dianne's panties down to the base of her bottom. With her back side so high in the air, the panties were now completely out of the way. "Please continue, until both Kim and Amy are convinced she's been spanked harder than they were." Oh, no! Not over yet, maybe not over for a long time! "No, please! I'm sure you already paddled me harder than both of them!" Dianne wailed. Nevertheless, Barbara resumed her task. Each swat was heavy, but gave forth a much sharper Crack! than before. It looked like the panties *had* made a difference. It only took half a dozen swats on the bare before Amy agreed Dianne had been punished much harder than she had. Kim insisted on a round dozen, which Barbara duly provided. Dianne leaped up, standing there with both hands on her bottom, trying to keep from hopping up and down from the smarting pain. Neither of the other two had done more than briefly rub their bottoms, but Dianne didn't care at this point if she was acting like an adult or not. Her bottom *hurt*! After a few moments to calm down and repair the damage to Dianne's face, all agreed the punishment had been adequate all around. None of the three were interested in a repeat performance, and renewed their promises to make things right before the end of the week. Tom offered to drive the two sisters home. Upon returning to the living room, they found Lisa nonchalantly reading a book! Her wide-eyed look showed she must have heard much of what went on. Indeed Lisa had heard both Kim and Dianne getting it. Her big sister had red eyes and a face just as puffy, so Amy must have gotten it too. A college senior herself, Lisa obviously had no intention of getting involved in *this* mess. Of course, if her sister ever figured out that Lisa had helped her get caught... Chapter 9. Wedding Day Amy's wedding day finally arrived. Kim and Dianne had made their lists, and checked them twice, and Dianne had sought counseling. The desk sergeant had been assured that all three were fully repentant, and was informed of the progress made to date. Because of this progress, all charges against the women had been dropped. Tom's bail money was returned. Amy had made her list also, but with one thing and another, Tom had not followed up with Amy to see if she had kept her promises to the letter. Actually, Tom and Barbara *had* checked, but they checked with the shopkeeper rather than Amy. They knew Amy had not kept her end of the bargain, but decided not address the problem on her wedding day. They decided to address the problem in far more dramatic fashion. But now Tom was wondering if he had made a mistake in not pressing the issue, even on her wedding day. Amy was so nervous and tense that she was driving everyone to distraction. But Tom would *not* have her ruin her own wedding day. They were still at home. Tom called Amy to her room and explained to Amy what she was doing to everyone else. Tom asked Amy to bend over, placing her hands on her own (former) bed, taking care not to wrinkle her wedding dress. The train on her dress was so long, however, that Tom decided not to approach her for fear of stepping on or otherwise scuffing her gown. Tom had been married a long time, and knew his limitations when it came to feminine garments. Leaving her there a moment, Tom found Barbara and asked her to lift Amy's skirts carefully so as to expose her panties without wrinkling anything. Tom had never seen *those* panties before. Jeff was in for a treat. Pressing on her tailbone, Tom delivered six salutary slaps. Amy just stood there bent over, saying not a word. Those slaps hurt, but not enough to force any tears. The hand prints showed around and even right through Amy's lace panties. This spanking stuff was suddenly getting to be a habit. Amy would be glad to be married and out of the house! With that reminder, Tom asked Amy to stand up, and Barbara helped her straighten out her skirts. Tom suggested a couple of deep breaths to calm herself. "Relax and settle down. All the plans have been made; everything's under control. Just enjoy the day, and try to be nice to everyone!" Amy got the message on the first try. For the remainder of "her" day, she was the gracious and blushing bride. Chapter 10. Mysterious Wedding Presents During the wedding reception, Tom and Barbara spoke to Jeff and Amy together. They gave them an envelope (it looked like a standard wedding card) and explained that the card *must* be opened before any of the packages from them. The three packages were numbered, and *must* be opened in order. Each one had instructions to follow before opening the next one, sort of like a treasure hunt. The first package, they pointed out, had the inscription, "read the card before opening this." "The card" was that which they had just been handed. Tom and Barbara wanted to make this perfectly clear, so there would be no misunderstandings that would ruin the surprises. Did they understand? Yes, they did. Card first, follow card's instructions. Package marked "First," follow instructions. Then second package and instructions, then third. It was all very mysterious, but they would play along. Should they open the card right away? Yes they could, but they would want plenty of time and privacy when they opened the packages--the packages could easily wait until after their honeymoon trip. Jeff and Amy discovered the wedding card to be exactly as advertized. It contained the usual best wishes, along with hopes they enjoyed their honeymoon trip (the trip was a joint gift from both Jeff's and Amy's parents). The card also contained the following note: The three presents, marked "first," "second," "third" are to be opened in that order. Each will contain a note with instructions or explanation. The intent may well be obvious without recourse to the enclosed note, but each note should make things perfectly clear. If there's any confusion, work things out for yourselves--you're on your own now! Before opening the first package, be sure you have plenty of time before you and no other pressing commitments. Take time to enjoy, discuss, and explore the possibilities! You'll want some privacy, of course--a hotel room just won't do. After this build-up, Jeff and Amy speculated many times as to what might be in the boxes. They all seemed to be of equal size and weight, and shaking produced no insight. As suggested, they left the boxes home until they returned from their trip. Chapter 11. The First Mysterious Present The first box seemed a bit anti-climactic once they opened it. It was wonderful, and its purpose obvious. Hidden among the packing material (weighted to disguise the contents) was an electric-blue "baby doll" night gown with matching silk panties. The promised note read: Barbara, Lisa, and Jeff's sister picked this out. They are confident, between them, that you will *both* like it. Amy, please change into (only) the attached clothing, privately. Use jewelry and makeup of your choice. Take your time; take a bath if you wish. Don't worry about leaving Jeff waiting--just so you make it worth his while. Jeff, while Amy is dressing, make sure the room will remain warm enough that she will be comfortable. Give some thought to your task when she returns bearing our gift. When she returns, spend at least twenty minutes having her pose for you according to your instructions, or perform any reasonable task. (Yes, mopping the floor on hands and knees is reasonable in this context.) Look, but don't touch. At your convenience, after the above instructions have been completed, and with this first present still in place, you may open the second package. Amy kept Jeff waiting over an hour. She knew, from the note, that Jeff would soon be taking advantage of *her*, so she first tried *his* patience. She decided to dress as if going out to a formal dinner (except for the actual clothing). She plaited her hair into an "S" braid, pinning the whole mass on top of her head. That would give Jeff something to occupy him. Jewelry, makeup, perfume were for a formal indoor evening. She decided to cheat a little bit and wear white high-heeled shoes. They felt a little bit different to her--she had never worn them without stockings before. Amy gave some thought to her Grand Entrance. After keeping Jeff waiting so long, this couldn't exactly be put across as spontaneous. She could walk in and strike a pose, but he was going to make her pose anyway. Okay, she would appear briefly and go do something in the kitchen. Let him come to her. If he didn't, she could make up a snack and some soda. *That* would be a good entrance--bearing something juicy and sweet. And so it was. Jeff saw Amy just long enough to make his eyes pop out-- and then she was out of sight, in the kitchen. Jeff called out petulantly, "Hey! That's not what the note said! You should be coming out here!" Amy remained silent, doing something in the kitchen. If she didn't come out soon, he was going in after her. Amy spent another fifteen minutes in the kitchen. Amy came out bearing a tray of apple slices and warm caramel sauce. With a smile, she spoke. "I thought you might be wanting something warm and sweet, and something tart and juicy." Jeff laughed. Both newlyweds relaxed a bit. Jeff hardly saw the tray-- both eyes were burning on Amy. "Look but don't touch," the note had specified. Ha! There was just enough room on the sofa for them to both sit down with the tray between them. Jeff and Amy fed each other. Amazing what one can do with apple slices and caramel. And when Amy leaned *way* over to wipe Jeff's face (with one hand to keep the night gown out of the food) she had to remind him again, firmly, to not touch. Then Jeff gave a rapid-fire series of instructions, requiring Amy to display herself to advantage. Jeff was obviously liking what he saw, but Amy was feeling a bit put out by the one-sidedness of the adventure. But there were two more packages to open. Surely Mom and Dad would instruct her to even the score? A few hot minutes later, Amy was just completing her ten "jumping jacks." Jeff had allowed her to first remove her shoes, lest the heels snag on the carpet. Breathing deeply, Amy remarked, "I think I've done everything except stand on my head for you. Can we open the next box now?" Amy, of course, was hoping the next box would allow her to "turn the tables" on Jeff. At Jeff's startled speculative look, Amy clapped both hands over her mouth in consternation. He wouldn't! Of course he would! In high school, Amy had been fairly good at gymnastics. And Jeff knew that. Stand on her head she did, her night gown laying on the floor in a ring about her. The thing had seemed so transparent when she was on her feet, but now it completely obscured her vision. And she knew that Jeff knew she could stand on her head for quite some time. My, how she regretted *that* bit of showing off last year! Even though she could hardly see a thing, Amy was intensely aware of Jeff's close-up appraisal. After a long minute or two, Jeff asked her to keep her hands and head motionless, but bend forward and put her toes on the floor, keeping her knees straight. It wasn't too comfortable, but she could do it. Oh, she would get him back later! The night gown still lay puddled on the floor, obscuring nothing but Amy's arms and eyes. As Amy was released to stand up, Jeff was unsure whether her red face was entirely due to the time spent upside-down. From rdragon@ix.netcom.com Wed Dec 25 11:39:35 1996 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: FATHER OF THE BRIDE 5/9 From: rdragon@ix.netcom.com(***) Date: 25 Dec 1996 16:39:35 GMT //Archive-name: FathrBride.4 //Author: an50731 //Title: Father of the Bride, chap 12-16 Assume the following story is fiction. Copyright 1994 by the author. All rights reserved. To be redistributed only with permission of the author. Archive permission has been granted to the "hermes" file server. (That's where you *should* have obtained this file.) Feedback solicited. Comments, suggestions, criticisms to an50731@anon.penet.fi. Chapter 12. The Second Mysterious Present Jeff and Amy again sat on the sofa, with the second package between them. Amy had replaced the white formal high-heeled shoes and taken a few minutes to "freshen up" her appearance. Jeff was still fully, but casually, dressed. Next to his elegant wife, he looked something of a slob at the moment. Amy, dressed as she was in the short night gown, looked sexy and vulnerable. Their clothing was so mismatched, it was hard to guess who looked more out of place. Jeff looked the comfortable young husband relaxing at home, and Amy looked the sexy new bride showing off for her husband. The requirements having been met, the second package was duly opened. Amy was eagerly awaiting her turn to put one over on Jeff. From the outside, all three packages appeared to be identical. What could they have picked out for Jeff that was equivalent the suggestive lingerie she was wearing? Hmm... The second package had likewise been packed and weighted to disguise its content. Its purpose was rather less obvious, but vaguely suggestive. The package seemed to contain two silk scarves, in a deep red that sharply contrasted with the first "package." The scarves, judging by their color, were obviously meant to go with the night gown in some way. The box contained two notes this time, both sealed in envelopes. One was labeled "Read this note first" and the other was labeled "Follow the instructions in the other note before opening this note." As Tom and Barbara had promised, their expectations were perfectly clear. Jeff took the two scarves and opened them up. They were identical, long rectangles. Jeff asked, and Amy assured him that she never wore a scarf on her hair. In fact, she didn't even own a scarf. He hadn't thought so. They opened the first note from the second package. It read: We hope you'll continue to play along, and we hope you like the game. Take one of the scarves and fold it in half lengthwise, and then fold it again lengthwise. Amy should still be wearing the blue "package," so that the scarf will look its best. Amy, hold your arms out with your wrists crossed. Be patient while Jeff gets the following instructions worked out. Jeff, take the folded scarf and lay it across Amy's crossed wrists. Bring the ends around so that you have wrapped her wrists once. Pull the scarf snug but not in any way painfully so. If any jewelry is in the way, you may need to remove or adjust it. Now you should be holding one end of the scarf in each hand, pulling up, with the center of the scarf at the top of Amy's wrists. Take the end in your left hand and pass it down between her forearms (through the middle) and bring it up around the outside. That is, it goes over her left forearm and under (and around) her right forearm. Do the same with the other end of the scarf, in the other direction. Both wrappings should be close together, so everything looks like one neat package. Aesthetics are important here. Tie off the scarf with a surgeon's knot as follows: Make an overhand knot, but wrap it around twice, rather than once. Pull it snug, and make sure there's no slack anywhere in the scarf, but don't make things tight enough to cut off circulation. Then make a second overhand knot above the first one, like you would a normal square knot. (We recommend you take a moment to practice tying and untying the scarf at this point. You do *not* want the victim to be able to get loose at the wrong moment, but you'll want to be able to untie the knot in a hurry later on.) You should have enough scarf left over to (fairly loosely) wrap the ends down below her wrists and tie them off with a second square knot. This second knot is so she can't undo things with her teeth. You should have a pocket knife handy (also enclosed, if you haven't found it yet) to release her from the scarf in case of "emergency." Don't worry, silk scarves are easily replaced. Now take another twenty minutes to let Amy (try to) escape from the scarf. Jeff, think of ways to motivate her to *really* try to escape. Again, please take time to explore the possibilities. Amy, if you should escape within twenty minutes, you are to tie Jeff up in the same manner. Continue practicing back and forth until someone can be kept tied for twenty minutes. Jeff, we have confidence you can keep Amy tied the first twenty minutes. Unless you *really* work at it, the silk scarf should leave no marks. Take a break if you need to, but then with Amy well-tied, you may open the second note. Sure enough, there was a small pocket knife hidden in a corner of the packaging. Jeff placed it nearby, with the blade closed. With such detailed instructions, and Amy's cooperation, Jeff had no trouble binding his wife's wrists together. Jeff took the hint and practiced tying and untying. Now that he understood the concept, he was sure he could make her helpless without any particular cooperation on her part. But, to comply with the instructions, he retied Amy's wrists in front of her exactly according to instructions. Twenty minutes later, Amy was breathing heavily from exertion, frustrated, and still bound. With a grin, Jeff handed Amy the second note to open. "Your parents must have some pretty interesting times together. Where do you think they thought all this stuff up? Do you think *they* actually tie each other up?" Amy had been wondering the same thing. She'd had no idea. She was certainly going to have an interesting chat with her mother the next time they met. Her parents were obviously trying to make a point here, but she wasn't quite sure what it was. She said as much to her husband. They were both curious about what was to come next, so Amy tore open the envelope. The second note, from the second package, was short. It read: Try out two or three (at least) ways to use the second scarf, leaving the first scarf, and the first present, in place. Then remove the second scarf, leaving it readily available. Leave the first scarf and the first present in place. Spend a little bit of time getting each other warmed up. You may then open the third package. Amy tried to use the second scarf, but had very little success with her hands tied. She turned it over to Jeff. Jeff, she discovered, was quite up to the task. Amy found the scarf worked well as blindfold, or for binding feet, toes, ankles, or knees, or ankles to thighs, or wrists to ankles. Amy suggested that this was enough; only two or three ways were required. But Jeff was enjoying himself too much! Jeff insisted on tying her wrists behind her neck and having her pose. Then he looped the second scarf around her wrists and tied it around her waist, behind her back. Jeff spent some time taking advantage of her, with her hands immobilized. He found he could achieve the same effect by tying her elbows together behind her, but Amy found that far less comfortable. Jeff then discovered the scarf need not be used for tying, but could be drawn back and forth across sensitive areas. What with one thing and another, Jeff and Amy were soon qualified to open the third package. Amy was still hoping to turn the tables on Jeff. The first two packages had given her husband the decided advantage. Chapter 13. Explanation Jeff and Amy were again sitting on the couch with an unopened package between them. Both newlyweds were now a bit out of breath. Amy's hands lay in her lap, still bound. She looked slightly disheveled, with her hair unpinned, the braid snaking across the front of one shoulder. Both were intensely curious as to the content--and intent--of that package between them. Would it finally be time to put one over on Jeff? Amy was afraid not--she couldn't do a whole lot with her hands bound like that. Jeff opened the package. The third package contained something wrapped up and labeled "third," something wrapped up and labeled "second," and an envelope labeled "first." The second and third items were in plain brown wrapping paper, like what is often used for boxes sent through the post. Jeff opened the envelope. The now-to-be-expected note read: This third package represents somewhat of a change of pace. But first, we're guessing it's time for some explanation. We hope you've played along with us so far. Amy should be still wearing the clothing we presented, and well-bound but not uncomfortable. We trust both of you are warmed up and interested in each other. Jeff and Amy looked each other over. Yes, the note was quite accurate so far. By unspoken mutual agreement, they read the note out loud, one reading a paragraph and then the other reading the next paragraph. They continued reading: Since you've just become married, we assume it's worthwhile to carefully spell things out for you. If we are simply restating the obvious, so much the better. Within the context of marriage, you can invent many games, and have a *lot* of fun. If you don't both like the game we showed you, invent another. Thus far, we have placed Jeff in the dominant role. Within the context of fun and games, of course, you may mix and match roles--anything to stimulate your imagination and interest. Marriage takes a lot of work, so we want to show you ways to have a lot of fun, too. Your relationship need never slip into a rut. (Well, it probably *will* slip into a rut now and again, but there are interesting ways to shake each other out of that deadly comfort zone.) Now for the change of pace. The second and third items in this package are to go together. Please store them together some place where you will both see them periodically. Every time you see them, we hope, you will be reminded to act as ever-more- mature adults. Marriage has room for lots of childish play--so indulge--but marriage requires each of you to continually grow in adult maturity. We hope the enclosed items will remind you to put childish ways behind you--but we hope the first two packages have shown you that married life need not all be serious business! Go ahead and open the second, then the third, items. There is a final note (marked "fourth") tucked in with the third item. Go ahead and open the fourth as soon as the second and third have been unwrapped. Once you have opened the final note, you're on your own. The notes had all been in Barbara's writing, but it sounded like Tom talking to them. Tom was always so extremely careful to make everything perfectly, painfully, clear. Yes, this evening had been carefully programmed out. But both Jeff and Amy were willing to play along. Things had been fun so far, though a bit naughty. But they were married now, and that kind of naughtiness was now to be encouraged. Once husband and wife had both read the note, Jeff turned to the second item. They saw no need to reflect on philosophy and deep meaning at this point--packages remained to be opened. Chapter 14. Second and Third Items The second item was a framed piece of calligraphy. Amy recognized the writing as her mother's work. It was beautifully illuminated, but (for the sake of propriety) not illustrated. The flourishes used gold (was it actually gilded?) ink, and black India ink. The plain silver frame provided a rich, modern-looking effect. This was a work of art, and not at all gaudy. Like everything else to do with these mysterious wedding presents, much thought was put into the packaging--a subtle lesson Tom and Barbara hoped the young couple would learn. The lines of text were lettered in alternate colors, blue and red. The shades of ink precisely matched the scarf and night gown. This gift had taken a lot of preparation! The text read: Actions have consequences. Tears clear the conscience. Reconciliation and restitution are mandatory. Problems are best corrected early, before the consequences become catastrophic. May you never face a consequence more severe than a sound spanking. "I can guess what the third item is," Amy said. "I suppose Mom and Dad think they're being very funny. I think you'd better untie me now before this gets out of hand." "What's the matter? Things have been rather interesting so far." Jeff was puzzled. Something was up--Amy's reaction to the calligraphy showed there was more here than the obvious. "The first note was right. I don't think this game is going to be fun any more. Could you please untie me before we lose the mood entirely?" "It's beginning to look to me like you're tied up right now for very good reason. There's not much point to being tied up, is there, without a reason to struggle?" Amy held her wrists out. "Jeff! *Please* untie me. My arms are starting to hurt." Jeff took her hands, but made no motion to untie the scarf. "Your Dad is some kind of computer techie, isn't he? It looks to me like they planned this situation, whatever it is, and already solved it. Why spoil their design?" Amy was one step ahead. "If Dad is such a great designer, he probably anticipated your argument too. Maybe what he *really* wanted to prove was whether or not you would listen to his daughter when it really counts. So do you pass the test, or fail?" Oh, my. There was much more here than sporting with one's wife in a flimsy night gown, Jeff realized. "Perhaps there's no test here at all. We're just supposed to finish opening the package. Or perhaps the test is to know when to *not* listen to you? Let's just see what they have in mind--we don't have to follow the instructions if we don't want to." Amy was getting mad. "Well, okay. Just untie me first. You can always retie me later." "Maybe the second scarf was intended as a gag. Let's compromise: Let's just finish out the presents as we are, and I'll leave the second scarf out of your mouth." Jeff wrestled Amy down to where the scarf was about to be placed in her mouth. Wrestling could be fun, too, but *that* was no great revelation. "You decide. Deal?" Amy was barely keeping her temper in check. "Okay. Let's get it over with." The third item was a small maple paddle, packaged with a ribbon and bow. Amy noticed the ribbon was tied so the paddle could be hung on a wall, rather than just left on a shelf as it had been for many years. "See what I mean? Don't you be getting any ideas. Dad used that on us when we were little. I think I remember Mom using it on us once, when Dad was away for more than a week. That was *not* what I would call fun and games." "Okay, so this is their reminder to act like adults. It seems a pretty strange way to make the point, but I guess it fits. Sort of a white elephant gift. We can't exactly exchange it like the three toasters, so I guess we'd better keep it. What were you so worried about?" "I was afraid you were supposed to *use* it on me for some reason. But I guess we can just put it in the closet like the instructions say. If we hang the plaque on the closet door, we'll see it often enough." Jeff was relieved. "Come over here. We can read through the last note together and then we get you out of all this clothing and *really* have some fun." Chapter 15. Caught! Well, at least *Jeff's* intent was clear enough. Amy snuggled up beside her husband. Jeff could wrap an arm around her and still open the note. Jeff could tell that Amy's heart was still beating rapidly. The final note read: Now, Jeff, we come to a decision point. We are presenting you the situation, and leave it to you two to deal with as you deem appropriate. Amy promised to accomplish a certain task the week before her wedding. The task was so important that, if she did not keep that promise, she was to receive a spanking. Of course, we expected her to keep the promise--we assumed she would be highly motivated! Unfortunately the task, important as it was, was not accomplished. (At least, as of the day before your scheduled wedding it was not. Since you're reading this note, you can be sure it was not--otherwise we would have told you to disregard this note.) It's not important that Amy disclose the nature of the task. If she wants to, fine. If not, let her keep the matter confidential. We leave the situation up to you two. Amy will need some free time to finish that task, over the next week or so. We recommend and request that Amy be kept to her bargain. That is, she may come to our house for a spanking at her earliest convenience; or you two may resolve the situation right now. Amy has only had one spanking in the last ten years or more, but you may be assured Amy has earned a very thorough spanking now. Chapter 16. Duplicity It was the inevitable coincidence that Barbara had disclosed her duplicity the morning of the same day that Jeff and Amy chose to open their mystery wedding presents. After three weeks, Barbara couldn't take the guilt any longer. She chose the morning for her disclosure, after Lisa was out of the house and just before Tom left for work. Tom and Barbara were still in the kitchen. Barbara had, as a special deal, cooked Tom his favorite breakfast. She was now disclosing her reason for the special treatment. Barbara explained to Tom the part she and Lisa had had in getting Amy caught, along with Kim and Dianne. Amy had already divulged the Nordstrom's incident to her younger sister. Lisa, ever on the alert to keep her sister on the right track, went straight to their mother and explained what her sister had done at Nordstrom's. Barbara decided to wait and see how Amy would resolve the situation. Lisa took a more active interest. The day the girls got caught, Lisa had gone spying on them. She tipped off the shopkeeper that the three had looked suspiciously to her like shoplifters, but she wasn't quite sure. The shopkeeper took the hint and Lisa disappeared. The girls were caught, and Lisa gave her mother an eyewitness account of the entire adventure. When Barbara called Tom to inform him of the charge account problem, she now divulged, she was already aware that Amy was at the police station. She, Barbara, had wanted him to have the complete picture before Amy contacted him. She had arranged to not answer the phone at home--the answering machine was turned off--to force Amy to call him, Tom, at work. Before Tom could get too upset at this revelation, Barbara went on to explain that her conscience was bothering her ever since she had lettered that plaque for Jeff and Amy. So that was why she was explaining things. They were now both standing, Tom with his arms around her. Tom stepped back a bit, so that the were facing each other, holding hands. Tom asked his wife, "Now that you've said all that, do you still feel guilty?" Barbara nervously searched the floor with her eyes. "Yes, I guess I still do. I guess we know what *that* means, don't we?" Tom needed to rush off to work, but assured her they would continue to discuss the matter during his lunch break. In any event, they would need to talk with Lisa when she got home that evening. With an appreciative kiss, Tom was out the door. It was now early March, and still raining. From rdragon@ix.netcom.com Wed Dec 25 11:40:03 1996 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: FATHER OF THE BRIDE 6/9 From: rdragon@ix.netcom.com(***) Date: 25 Dec 1996 16:40:03 GMT //Archive-name: FathrBride.5 //Author: an50731 //Title: Father of the Bride, chap 17-19 Assume the following story is fiction. Copyright 1994 by the author. All rights reserved. To be redistributed only with permission of the author. Archive permission has been granted to the "hermes" file server. (That's where you *should* have obtained this file.) Feedback solicited. Comments, suggestions, criticisms to an50731@anon.penet.fi. Chapter 17. Fulfilling the Bargain Jeff's arm was already around Amy's waist as they read the final note together. There was no hope of escape, and nowhere far to run anyway. Jeff exclaimed, "So that was what had you so upset! You *did* know what was coming, didn't you?" "As soon as I saw that plaque, I knew I was being framed. Those were all my Dad's favorite sayings when we were in trouble. Except the last line. That's new." "Did you actually agree to a spanking? What in the world was going on," Jeff asked. "Well, sort of. It's kind of a long story that I'd rather not go into right now." Jeff came to a snap decision. He decided to take action before Amy could deter him or get him to change his mind. A commitment was a commitment, after all, and her parents' intent was abundantly clear. With marriage vows heavy on his mind, Jeff was very much in favor of keeping and honoring commitments, no matter how difficult or painful they were to keep. Some day, he was sure, Amy would appreciate such a sentiment. Jeff quickly lifted Amy up by the waist and set her on her feet, standing up with her. Holding her firmly by one bound wrist, he led her over to the guests' chair. No, that chair had arms. It wouldn't do. The kitchen chairs had arms too (quite unusual). He thought of bending her across the kitchen table. No, it looked like it might not be sturdy enough. Amy had plenty of spirit, and she was getting mad. It would have to be the sofa. Jeff sat down quickly in the center of the sofa, yanking Amy down across his knees as he sat. The sofa was upholstered in brown cloth, and rather small--the size comfortable for two people, or three children. Jeff scooted forward so that he was just barely still on the sofa. With Jeff sitting on the very edge of the seat, Amy was upside-down over the carpet. So far, she was too surprised to squirm or fight, and was just beginning to protest. Amy was facing down to Jeff's left--Jeff was right-handed. With a hand on each side of her hips, Jeff lifted his wife slightly off his lap for a moment, to place her bottom exactly in position. He had put his hands underneath her night gown, and her struggling immediately made the short, loose garment slide to her armpits. Delicious! Jeff had never spanked anyone before. He hesitated, but just for a fraction of a second. Then he lifted his hand up and brought it down sharply, on the center of Amy's bottom. "Hey!" Amy changed the tone of her protest. Jeff spanked her hard and fast. He was slightly bent over to more strongly wrap one arm around her waist, pulling her solidly against his stomach. Amy's hips were locked in place. Jeff delivered eight hard swats. Jeff was young and strong, and they *were* hard. But the blue silk was opaque, so Jeff could not tell what effect he was having on Amy's bottom. But Amy was obviously feeling the spanking. She yelled with each swat, and tried to cover her bottom with her feet. Her hands were tied out of the way, but Jeff found it hard to get past her feet. Time to try another tactic. Jeff lifted Amy up again--much to her relief--and sat her on his lap. But he immediately shifted her the other direction and wrestled her back down across his lap. Amy was soon face down again, and bottom up, but this time facing to Jeff's right. This time Jeff pushed her farther over to the right, so it was mostly the tops of her thighs that covered his lap. That put her bottom back under his right hand. Jeff could now grip her legs with his left hand, and use his left arm and shoulder to keep her legs and feet out of the way. Amy could twist and turn her upper body quite a bit more in this position--and proceeded to do so--but her tied wrists kept her hands out of the way. Jeff resumed spanking his bride. It was a bit more awkward to proceed this way, what with having to swing his hand slightly from the left, and Amy's contortions, but Jeff took his time. He slowed down and was careful to aim each spank squarely. Six solid, well-spaced swats proved devastating. Jeff now calmly informed Amy that he would not stop spanking her until some time after she had settled down and stopped struggling. Amy immediately stopped her shouting, and lay still across his lap. Jeff asked her to get up and lay across his lap the other way. Jeff was a little surprised, but she did. Now Amy was back as originally positioned, hands and feet on the floor, head to the left. Because the couch was so low, her knees were almost touching the carpet, as were her face and shoulders. Jeff resumed spanking her. Ten hard swats made an even two dozen spanks, and left Amy quietly crying. Jeff thought it was time he inspected the damage. Asking her to stay across his lap, Jeff used both hands to carefully pull down and then remove Amy's panties. Yes indeed, Jeff was faced with a burning red bottom. Jeff realized, to his complete surprise, that he had rather enjoyed the spanking. Jeff let his hands roam here and there, and found that Amy was still hot in more than just her bottom. In fact, she almost immediately shuddered in orgasm. Now *that* presented some interesting possibilities! "Amy, your parents obviously intended that I use the paddle on you. Are you ready?" Amy jerked her head around to stare wildly up at her husband. "No, please no! You're a lot stronger than my Dad. You'd kill me with that thing!" Jeff spoke with a smile. "Aha! I see that paddle has had quite an impact on your life. I bet even a medium-hard paddling would settle the question. It sometimes takes tears to clear the conscience, you know. I *know* you have a lot more tears than I've seen so far today." "Jeff, I'm begging you. Please don't hit me with that paddle." "Very well. I'll just give you a bare-bottom spanking with my hand. I won't use the paddle unless you struggle too much, or keep me from spanking you. How does that sound?" "But you just finished spanking me!" "I changed my mind. I did not just *finish* spanking you, I have just *started* spanking you! Lay still, now." And so he had. Amy lay still, and Jeff spanked her. Jeff experimented a little bit, and discovered that a little bit of wrist play seemed to make the slaps more effective. Brute force was unnecessary. Amy was laying still, all right, and Jeff became unsure on his tenth swat if he was getting through or not. He broke up the rhythm with one sharp swat to the back of each thigh, right at the top. That provoked a reaction! Amy squealed, kicked both of her legs, and twisted around to shout in a high-pitched voice, "That wasn't fair!" Jeff spanked the same place twice again, and resumed spanking her bottom. He began to try for an all-over glow, and slapped farther to the outside of each hip, up higher, down lower, and so on. After a warning to be still--added to an extra-hard swat on the middle of the back of one thigh--Amy lay quiescent throughout the ordeal. Jeff was greatly enjoying himself, even if Amy was not. Well, Amy had made the bargain, and Jeff was just keeping her to it. The tears finally broke through. Amy was crying for real now, and politely asked Jeff to please stop. No shouts, no threats, just tears and the request to stop. Jeff did stop for a moment, and let his hands wander while his bride calmed down. Amy was too busy snuffling to protest. Jeff, as he suspected, found she remained tremendously aroused. Jeff gave her four more of the best spanks he had available. Amy cried louder, but otherwise made no protest. "You can stand up now, so I can untie that scarf. Let's get out of the rest of this clothing." Chapter 18. Mother and Daughter Tom and Barbara were interviewing their youngest daughter. Was Lisa aware of how much trouble she had gotten her sister into? Yes, she had heard Kim and Dianne getting it, and assumed Amy had also gotten a spanking. She had been feeling guilty ever since. Lisa had turned twenty-one two months previously. She was nearly as beautiful as her sister, and had the same well-curved figure. Until their teen years, she and Amy were often mistaken as twins. Lisa, however, was more often the rebellious one. She'd always been spanked far more often than her older sister. She just kept pushing her limits until her parents were exasperated, declared her far overdue for a spanking, and spanked her. During the following week, they wondered why they had waited so long. Lisa was suddenly a nice person again! But Lisa had not been spanked since she was fifteen, and not on the bare bottom since she was twelve. And she had *no* interest in resuming the custom now. (The handful of spankings as a teenager hadn't been much to worry about, anyway. One parent or the other had given her a good swat on the back side, standing up, just to remind her of what *could* happen if she didn't shape up. She had always taken the hint.) Tom and Barbara explained, firmly, that Lisa would be receiving a bare- bottom spanking for her part in the episode. After what had happened to Amy and Kim and Dianne, there could be no question about it. Lisa got mad. What about her mother's part? Hadn't she been a little sneaky herself? Barbara replied. "Tom's going to spank me too. He's never spanked *me* before, and he's spanked you *lots* of times. That's the other reason there's no question about your getting a spanking." Tom spoke. "Amy just got back into town with Jeff, so you don't need to bother her tonight. I'd like you to go over to Kim and Dianne's house and apologize to them. You are then to invite them over to observe your punishment. We have arranged for them to be home this evening, but have not explained why." This matter must have been eating on her conscience for a while, for Lisa now bowed to the inevitable. She took the car, and headed for Kim's house. Tom turned to Barbara with a grin. "Let's go upstairs. You can take your dress off while we're waiting." Tom went to fetch a chair from the kitchen, and followed his wife up the stairs. Chapter 19. Barbara When Tom entered their bedroom carrying a chair, Barbara was standing at the far side of the room, near the closet, having just hung up her dress. She was wearing a white camisole and white lace panties. Anticipating the evening's events, she had left her brassiere off for the occasion. Their room was large, with a canopied four-poster bed. The walls were a light blue, a shade lighter than their house's exterior. The drapes were dark blue, as was the bed canopy and bed spread. (Tom and Barbara both liked blue.) The carpet was thick pile, in an almost-glowing royal blue. Barbara did not like the carpet quite as well as she had expected. It was soft, but there were several times it had left her with rug burns. And in the most sensitive of places, too! Tom placed the chair near a wall, with plenty of space in front and to the sides of the chair. Tom walked over to his wife, and with an appreciative smile, removed the rest of Barbara's clothing. As he was about to lay things out on the bed, he checked himself and laid things out on the dresser instead. With the grin still in place, he commented, "I bet you're glad that paddle is out of the house, aren't you?" "Just why do you think I waited until now to tell you?" "Aha! So it was *not* just guilt that caused you to confess today! You waited on purpose until the paddle was unavailable! I won't be shy about using my hand, then." Both parents, of course, knew the spanking procedure. Tom walked back over to the chair. Barbara followed. Tom sat down on the chair, and Barbara lay across his lap. This was the first time Tom had ever had a naked woman across his lap for a spanking. Tom had had seen Barbara naked in every position they could imagine, but Tom nevertheless found this situation very provocative. "Best not to get side-tracked," Tom thought out loud, "or Lisa will be back home before you ever get your back side warmed." Barbara assured her husband that it was okay to be side-tracked. If she didn't get spanked until tomorrow, she would be willing to wait. Tom didn't bother to reply to her offer, nor did he bother with a lecture. Tom immediately commenced with the punishment. Smack! "Oh!" Tom set a slow and steady pace, not too hard at first. He alternated sides, and Barbara just lay there, surprisingly relaxed. Tom appreciatively watched his wife's breasts sway and shake with each swat. After that first startled exclamation, Barbara made no sound. After six fairly solid swats, Tom decided to spank *hard*. The next swat was probably twice as hard, and got an exclamation. "Yeow!" But nothing beyond the single exclamation. Barbara was taking this surprisingly well. She was certainly determined to take her punishment. Tom *knew* she had a very sensitive bottom, and it was certainly turning bright red. She *had* to be feeling it. Aha. Tom knew his wife well, and with two more swats the musky aroma in the air told of her arousal. That realization immediately had Tom strung to a higher pitch. But when is a spanking not a spanking, and does it count if the victim doesn't take it as punishment? Well, he would spank her until she cried, and leave it at that. Tom's arm got tired and his hand very sore. He spanked Barbara with at least three dozen swats before she began to seriously protest. Barbara's protests achieved an effect the opposite of what she, now rather desperately, intended. His naked wife, with flailing arms, legs, and every other delicacy, merely incited Tom to greater passion. This passion translated into a determination to continue the spanking. Tom asked her to keep her hands and feet out of the way, and, to his surprise, she was able to. Three more hard, well-spaced swats, and Barbara broke into tears. She said she was sorry and would never be sneaky like that again. Now we were getting somewhere! Whap! Whap! Tom continued spanking, hard, without comment. Barbara knew exactly what he was doing--trying to make her think it would go on forever--and she cried the louder. Tom switched to the back of her thighs, and Barbara shrieked her way through two swats to each side. Now she was begging him to stop. Tom paused. Barbara lay across his lap, shuddering. She was extremely aroused. Whether she realized it or not (and, of course, she did) she was extremely provocative to her husband, just laying there, squirming slightly. "Are you sure you've been spanked hard enough?" She was very sure. "Did I spank you way too hard? Aren't you glad we gave away the paddle?" Well, not *way* too hard, but certainly hard enough. Yes, it was okay to not use the paddle on her poor bottom. "Okay, you know a girl being spanked always feels she's had enough when she's only halfway through the spanking. And, you know we have recently discovered that a grown woman being spanked feels the same way. So we're not really done yet, are we?" Barbara knew Tom as well as he knew her. There was nothing to do but wail the louder, and prepare for the remainder of the spanking. Tom sat still for another full minute, admiring his wife and watching her squirm in anticipation. Besides, he was resting his arm. And his hand hurt. One minute was enough. No need to let her cool off completely. Tom began spanking his wife in his most serious manner, punishing her bottom with smacks ten or fifteen seconds apart. She could tell this was going to hurt. She tried to lay still, but she bucked and cried at each swat. She also became more and more excited with each swat. With the resounding slap, she ground frantically forward into his lap. As the pain eased, she lifted her bottom--only to meet the next punishing smack. Tom matched her rhythm. In effect, Barbara was lifting her bottom to each spank, then grinding the pain out against his lap. To Tom's amazed delight, she had an orgasm laying right across his lap, after *fifteen* of his most serious swats, while bawling her eyes out! Tom said nothing, and delivered a sixteenth right on schedule. Barbara moved not an inch; she was spent. Enough was enough. Tom let her lay there, until she stopped crying, and asked, "Can I get up now?" Tom helped Barbara up and was going to sit her on his lap, but she leaped to her feet. (Leaping up like that, without a shred of clothing, gained her husband's undivided attention. Not that his mind was wandering to start with...) Tom asked if the spanking was adequate; Barbara, rubbing her bottom and swaying for his benefit, assured him it was. Tom and Barbara, thankfully, had another half-hour to themselves before their daughter returned home. This aftermath was as intense as the spanking itself had been. Barbara's burning bottom gave her a dimension of sensation she had never experienced in over twenty-five years of marriage. For the moment, it seemed worth the tears. But she knew she would be mighty sorry (due to the anticipated soreness) by morning. From rdragon@ix.netcom.com Wed Dec 25 11:40:38 1996 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: FATHER OF THE BRIDE 7/9 From: rdragon@ix.netcom.com(***) Date: 25 Dec 1996 16:40:38 GMT //Archive-name: FathrBride.6 //Author: an50731 //Title: Father of the Bride, chap 20-22 Archivist NOTE: The original was received as a single file. I have split it into parts to allow those with low email limits to request the file in parts. Assume the following story is fiction. Copyright 1994 by the author. All rights reserved. To be redistributed only with permission of the author. Archive permission has been granted to the "hermes" file server. (That's where you *should* have obtained this file.) Feedback solicited. Comments, suggestions, criticisms to an50731@anon.penet.fi. Chapter 20. Lisa Lisa returned home alone. She reported that Dianne and Kim had both had enough of spankings at *this* house. Tom and Barbara assumed that Lisa had talked them out of coming over. That was okay; they had had their chance. They would check up later to ensure that Lisa had given them the whole story. If she hadn't, well, Lisa should have no doubt in her mind as to what would happen all over again. Tom instructed Lisa to take a chair to the rec room, and place it facing the wicker chair. Tom and Barbara followed Lisa into the room. Tom and Barbara had redressed themselves in the same clothes as when Lisa had left the house. They saw no need to give away *too* many secrets! Barbara remained standing near the door. "Barbara, please have a seat in the wicker chair, the same as before." Barbara knew Tom, and knew this was not the time to argue, so she sat down ever-so-gently on the chair, disguising the carefulness by smoothing her dress out as she sat. Lisa, concerned with her own troubles, had not noticed. "I thought you said Mom was getting spanked too!" "Tom just finished spanking me, while you were out. I had no idea he could spank so hard! Believe me, I would be standing up, if Tom hadn't insisted I sit down!" Tom had seated himself while Barbara was explaining. He spoke to Lisa. "You know you're about to be spanked on the bare bottom, and you know why. Is that correct?" Lisa nodded her head, Yes. Tom saw a problem coming. Lisa was still dressed up for the day, wearing pantyhose under the black-and-teal dress. Just lifting her dress would leave too much material bunched up, so she would have to remove the entire dress. Tom judged that unnecessary. One naked woman, or nearly-naked, was enough for the day. "You'll have to remove that dress, or it will be too much in the way. Instead, would you like to run to your room and change, to put on a shirt and shorts or something?" Lisa sighed in relief and sped from the room. Tom was sure she still knew better than to keep them waiting with a spanking imminent. Nevertheless, Lisa did not return for several minutes. She returned in a pale green knit top and denim shorts. The sweater, Tom noted, was short enough to stay out of the way, and would not shift around when she struggled. And he intended to make her struggle! The denim shorts were very tight. No doubt they would seem noticeably tighter when she put them back on. Lisa was barefoot, with her hair hanging loosely past her shoulders. Now why in the world had she taken time to brush out her hair? Lisa slipped off the shorts and plain white panties, leaving them dropped on the floor. She reluctantly bent across her father's lap for punishment, just as in days of old--except that in years far past, she had usually been far less cooperative. But the result was always the same. When her father determined she would be spanked, she got spanked. The back view showed Lisa to be as mature as her now-married sister. The same as her mother, for that matter. This was getting to be quite a habit for Tom. This was the fifth adult woman he had spanked in less than a month--and every spanking, in his opinion, had been well deserved. By now Tom had learned how to spank for good effect. Spanking a woman was different from spanking a child. With a child, the punishment is short, sharp, and quickly over, and cooperation is neither needed nor expected. But it takes more to make an adult cry tears of repentance. The adult needs to be in the right frame of mind for the punishment to have any worth in the first place. Then the pain threshold must be passed, so that the adult is *truly* sorry in the same way a spanked child is. This requires an aspect of hopelessness, of not knowing how long the punishment will last, only that it will hurt too much to bear without crying, and hard enough that the one being punished will not want it repeated any time soon. Or so Tom theorized. Tom was neither psychologist nor psychiatrist, but a systems programmer by trade. True to his "techie" outlook on life, he made a mental model of what was happening, so that he could proceed as efficiently as possible. In this case, his objective was to spank his adult daughter, in such a way that she responded--and repented--the same as she had as a child. If she responded the same way as his wife had, he wasn't quite sure *what* to do. But, he was sure, Barbara would know what to do. There would be no "funny business" in *this* household. (Except between himself and Barbara, of course.) Now for the spanking. Tom began by spanking Lisa as he had spanked her as a child. That is, a hard slap to one side of her bottom, and a hard slap to the other side. At this point he usually had to pause and force Lisa back into position. Of course, back then, one hand slap had covered her entire bottom. Not so any more! Before, each slap had renewed Lisa's effort to escape further punishment. Today, however, Lisa lay still with hardly a twitch as Tom's hand bounced off her back side. So Tom continued spanking, alternating hard, deliberate slaps to one side and the other, with a few seconds' pause between each one. Each spank was to the same spot, right at the center of each bottom cheek. Lisa soon had a bright red hand-size circle on each cheek. But she made no motion, no sound. Tom slowed down the pace, but kept it steady. He was thinking in terms of a long, thorough spanking. He placed his slaps all over her bottom area, in unpredictable fashion. Lisa was now clenching and relaxing her bottom after each slap, and made a grunting-whining noise whenever he landed a slap in an unexpected location. It looked to Tom like Lisa was starting to cry, a little, but he couldn't quite tell. Tom found he could ignore the pain in his hand as he maintained the steady pace. He was breathing more deeply now as his arm was tiring a bit. But Tom kept spanking and spanking. After slapping Lisa's bottom forty times (Tom couldn't help counting), Tom paused. Lisa continued to lay there. She was biting her lip. Yes, her bottom was definitely hurting her. Tom now gave the hardest slap he could, delivered in the way that had provoked the greatest reaction in his recent past experience. "Ouch!" Lisa felt that one. Tom let his arm relax, then delivered another of his best spanks. Tom kept the pace slow and easy, so he could take deliberate aim and make each spank one of his best. Lisa had to wait about 20 seconds between swats. Now *this* was a spanking. After six of his best, Lisa twisted around teary-eyed and begged her father to be done now. Tom shook his head, No, and slowly continued spanking his hardest and most effective. Just four hard slaps later--over a minute--Lisa put one hand back to cover her bottom and again begged him to stop. Barbara knew what to do; she grabbed both of her daughter's wrists behind her back and forced her to remain in a bent-over position. Lisa shrieked when she discovered her mother was standing on her hair; Barbara lifted her foot and allowed her daughter to shake her head, pulling her hair out of the way. Tom lifted Lisa off his lap a bit and got his right leg out from under her. Now she was bent over just his left leg, and he could use his right foot to hold her legs out of his way. Tom shifted her around slightly until his target was exactly in place. Lisa was bent a little more sharply to the left now, exposing the lower portion of her bottom as the main target. Tom resumed spanking his hardest, concentrating on Lisa's lower bottom and the very tops of her legs. Every slap was obvious punishment now. Tom spanked on and on without comment. With a loud sob, Lisa finally burst into tears. She cried and cried, right through another three hard slaps. She wailed about how sorry she was in a tear-choked voice. She would never be a tattle-tale or a sneak again. Tom continued spanking. Lisa was frantic. She twisted and turned, but could not get her arms loose or lift up. Her legs were pinned under Tom's right foot. Lisa heaved and bucked, but could not escape. Tom had trouble landing the next couple on target. He took care to time his spanking to her thrashing. Lisa had been punished. Of this, neither of Lisa's parents had any doubt. Tom finished up by spanking Lisa just as he had started, hard and fairly fast, delivered right to the middle of her bottom, alternating from one side to the other. Twelve final hard spanks, six to each side of her bottom. Lisa reacted just like she had ten or eleven years ago, screaming and sobbing uncontrollably, clenching her bottom cheeks together (that hurt his hand even worse), trying to kick and buck and stand up. All to no avail. Tom let his arm drop to his side, breathing heavily. He removed his right leg from pinning Lisa down, and Barbara let go. Lisa pushed herself off her father's lap to land heavily on her hip on the floor. "Ouch!" That hip was angry red and already sore enough! Lisa stretched herself out on her stomach at Tom's feet, burying her face in her arms. She continued to cry for a few moments longer. Then she looked up to her mother. "Is *that* what you got too? I don't see how I'll sit down before next week! And I will never, ever get Amy in trouble again!" Barbara thought that Lisa's spanking was probably harder than her own, but not by much. She noted that it was time for Lisa to put her shorts back on. Lisa replaced her panties, but not her shorts. Tom insisted she put her shorts back on, so she could "sit down and visit with us a few minutes." Lisa got her shorts back on, but it took three tries! The third time, she just bit her lip and yanked them up, zipping and snapping quickly. She sat down with her hands under her bottom, as her parents smiled at her discomfort. (Parents will be parents, even when their kids are grown up and married off.) Tears were still streaming down Lisa's face and dripping off her chin, soaking into her sweater. Nobody actually had anything much to say at this point. Tom dismissed Lisa, who again sped from the room. Barbara stood up, holding her own bottom in her hands. She asked if they could go back to their own room for a while. As Barbara lay on her bed for inspection, they discovered her bottom was still deeply colored and very sensitive to the touch. They found each other aroused again, Barbara continually aware of the heat following her. They decided the rest of the house could take care of itself, and spent the rest of the night together, not even bothering to turn down the heat or turn off the porch light. It had been a while since they had made love more than once in the same evening. Chapter 21. Secret Codes Jeff and Amy went through the various adjustments common to newly-married couples. Even though they had anticipated and discussed many things ahead of time, not all was starry-eyed perfect. They had good days and bad days, rainy days and sunny days. (Well, one sunny day. It was still winter.) Finances were tight, and life became depressingly normal. Well, not exactly normal. They had each other, now, and they made the most of each other. Often (if you catch my meaning). Like any self-respecting new bride, Amy had a good selection of nightwear and lingerie. Almost nothing practical, of course--it had not occurred to Jeff or any other gift-givers that practicality was a relevant criterion for selecting "intimate apparel." When Amy wore something sexy, Jeff was *most* appreciative. Nothing was in danger of wearing out, either; nothing seemed to actually stay on for long. Jeff, fortunately, was wise enough to pay attention to her at other times too. But that electric-blue night gown soon became a signal of sorts. It seemed that every time Amy wore it, she received a light spanking from Jeff on one pretext or another. So long as it was not too severe, Amy found a spanking from Jeff to be extremely erotic. Jeff enjoyed the game at least as much. Sometimes Amy chose the night gown to wear; sometimes Jeff hinted or left it out for her. Depending on mood, sometimes Jeff demanded she immediately strip and don the "special" gown. Then there was the time Amy couldn't put on the night gown, because it was in the pile of laundry. That day, Amy was playing the naughty, spoiled brat in obvious need of discipline. The fact that she was full-grown simply made the need for discipline more urgent. (They had been playing this game more and more often.) Amy impudently refused to put on the night gown. She would not sully herself with anything from a pile of laundry. After all, she had her standards to maintain. Didn't he usually like her choice of clothing, especially night gowns? (Yes, he certainly did.) Were the blue matching panties in the laundry too? Yes, of course. They go together, stupid. Well, if the "special" gown and panties were in the laundry, that was that. The "rules" they had worked out their first month of marriage specified that she never got spanked in any other clothing. And he couldn't exactly expect her to put on clothes that weren't clean. After all, she had her standards. And, Jeff noted, he very much liked the look of her standard. So there was only one option. She would have to be spanked without any clothing on at all. Didn't the rules specify the night gown? No, so far as he recalled, the rules never covered the stark naked case. (Amy wasn't stupid; she knew the pun was intended.) They never wrote down the rules, of course. Otherwise, there would be nothing to argue about, and nothing to invent in an "emergency." Sometimes, the object of the game was to figure out the rules. Naturally, because Jeff was forced to bend the rules a little to even allow her to be spanked at all, he would have to spank her rather harder than she otherwise deserved. He would first have to strip her completely naked, and that was rather more work than the usual procedure. As she had so carefully pointed out, he was too stupid to see any other options. It's hard to argue with such stupid logic, Amy realized. But that didn't mean she had to cooperate. It took Jeff quite some time to get all of her clothing off without damaging anything. He couldn't understand why she was being so difficult when he was just doing a public service, even to the point of bending the rules to accommodate her. While they were struggling over the last remaining item of clothing, she retorted that he was just too stupid to understand such things. "Stupid" was another of their code words. They never called each other bad names, in any way even remotely referring to reality. That meant she was really asking for it. For the moment, "it" referred to the severity of the spanking. Of course, her "stupid" husband had still had to figure out a way to get her across his knees and still stay within the rules. But if he could figure out a way, she was going to get it. She had been hoping he was going to delay the game until he could do the necessary laundry. The silk panties had to be washed separately. No such luck. It was the sofa this time. All spankings were either in the kitchen or living room, because the neighbors could hear them in the bed room. (Their neighbors were young themselves, and didn't seem to mind too much.) Jeff sat down on the right-hand half of the sofa and pulled Amy across his lap. Kneeling with her knees on the floor, Amy lay along the left-hand side of the couch with her bottom in the air. It was far more comfortable for Amy to support herself on the sofa cushion than to be suspended across his lap, over the carpet. Her bottom was facing more to the right, rather than straight up, but she was sure her husband could find it well enough. This spanking was rather harder than their play spankings to date. For the first time since they had opened those strange wedding presents, Amy kicked and howled in all seriousness. Jeff handled her as easily as always, and continued to casually spank her most firmly. Jeff might be feeling casual, but suddenly Amy was *not*. But she was as completely helpless as always in this situation, and that feeling of helplessness fueled her mounting excitement as much as always. But this time her bottom *hurt*. And Jeff was still spanking her. As a public service and special favor. She had asked for it, and Jeff was acting too "stupid" to realize that she'd been spanked hard enough. Kicking and wailing didn't work. It never did. But this time she was completely naked. She was an extremely beautiful woman, most of all to Jeff, but at the moment he didn't seem to care. When she was naked, especially naked and struggling, she *always* had his attention. But this time, he did not seem to be noticing. Those tears were *real*. So she informed Jeff. The spanking should be over now. But her thick-headed husband explained that he was just following the rules. He was a bit slow today, almost stupid you might say, and he'd have to think about it for a while. Meanwhile, Amy's bottom was getting more and more sore. Jeff finally stopped spanking her, and with a cheerful smile, lifted her to her feet. That part of the game over, Amy attacked Jeff and bore him to the floor, her purpose obvious. Her tears continued to drip on Jeff for a while--she was not about to be the one on the bottom--but sorrow was the last thing on her mind. She *did* make a mental note to herself, however, not to call him "stupid" more than once in the same game. Chapter 22. Credit By now, Jeff and Amy realized they were definitely "in to" spanking games. Just like they were "in to" anything else to do with sex that they could think of (with each other, that is). So far, Jeff and Amy had kept the spanking games in the context of play. Not since the memorable opening of the wedding presents had Amy been spanked for a "real" offense. Only Amy was spanked. After all, the "rules" said spankings had to be while wearing the electric-blue night gown and matching panties, and they did not fit Jeff. And Jeff had no interest in wearing women's clothing. But if Amy made it worth his while, no doubt, even that could change. Of course, the rules had recently been clarified to allow for one to be spanked in the nude. And naturally, bare-naked spankings had to be rather harder to compensate. So, the rules now allowed the possibility of Jeff getting spanked--but neither seemed to feel a need in that direction. The very first month they had been married, it had happened that Amy put too much on their Visa credit card, and they were unable to pay off the monthly balance. That meant that, for the first time, they had to pay interest on the account. They had agreed to never let that happen. They discussed it and agreed to be very careful the following month, to ensure the balance was paid off on time. They didn't make it. Both promised to stop charging completely. But Amy forgot. The next bill arrived and disclosed the problem. Amy left it out for Jeff to see--they were going through the mail together--and disappeared from the room. As he realized what had happened, Jeff called to his wife. "I thought we were going to stop charging." "We were. I'm sorry; I forgot. Just a minute, and I'll be out." Amy returned wearing the electric-blue nightgown and sat down to continue going through the mail. Jeff spoke. "Shall we make sure it doesn't happen again?" Amy replied with a smile, "I think we'd better." Jeff raised the stakes. "Then I think you should go dig out the red silk scarf." Jeff had just created a new "rule." From now on, they both realized, punishment for a "real" problem could only take place with one's hands tied by the red scarf. Amy stood up, left again, and returned with the contrasting red scarf. My, did she look good in that night gown! She presented the scarf to Jeff, crossed her wrists for him, and he tied her hands in the prescribed manner. Amy made another modification to the "rules." She asked, "Shouldn't this be on the bare bottom?" Indeed it should, Jeff immediately realized. Jeff reached down to carefully lower and remove her panties, placing them on top of the Visa billing statement. Jeff had seen everything before, of course, but panty removal remained a delightful revelation. Jeff took Amy firmly by the forearm and led her over to the sofa. Jeff sat on the edge of the sofa, in the middle, and invited Amy across his lap. She kneeled down on the floor to his right and arranged herself across his knees, with her elbows on the floor and her bound hands framing her head. Now her knees were not quite touching the floor. Jeff asked her, "Do you remember the last time I spanked you with your hands tied?" She certainly did. "Do you deserve a spanking that hard?" No, she did not. "About half that hard?" Well, maybe. Which, of course, meant Yes. "That would be about two dozen of my hardest spanks, then, plus maybe a little extra if you don't lay still." Amy protested, but not too loudly. Jeff spanked her. By now Jeff had had a *lot* of practice, and could be most devastating. Amy lay still for twenty of the two dozen ringing smacks, her rear cheeks bouncing after each one. She was a veteran by now, and let her legs lay open, her knees almost a foot apart. When she was being spanked, she left *everything* open and available to her husband. (But, of course, she normally kept those blue silk panties on, so she was only being a tease.) Because of this, Jeff was distracted from his task, as often as not. But not this time. Each slap brought an "Ow!" After twenty, she shouted, "Enough!" and tried to bounce herself off Jeff's lap. But Jeff held her tightly to his stomach. Her escape attempt had failed. Jeff spanked her four more times with renewed enthusiasm. Amy kicked and cried. Real tears, no acting required. "Okay, that was enough, but I think maybe a little extra is called for." Amy protested--she sounded very sincere--but Jeff held on and spanked her some more. It was a bit more difficult, now, with all of her kicking and twisting, but Jeff by now had plenty of practice with such circumstances. That day, Amy received six extra swats for an even thirty. Amy was not sure if that established a "rule" specifying the severity of a "real" punishment spanking or not. She would be sure to negotiate if the situation ever arose again--and she knew the chances were that it would. From rdragon@ix.netcom.com Wed Dec 25 11:41:17 1996 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: FATHER OF THE BRIDE 8/9 From: rdragon@ix.netcom.com(***) Date: 25 Dec 1996 16:41:17 GMT //Archive-name: FathrBride.7 //Author: an50731 //Title: Father of the Bride, chap 23 & 24 Assume the following story is fiction. Copyright 1994 by the author. All rights reserved. To be redistributed only with permission of the author. Archive permission has been granted to the "hermes" file server. (That's where you *should* have obtained this file.) Feedback solicited. Comments, suggestions, criticisms to an50731@anon.penet.fi. Chapter 23. Finding the Balance By the end of that Spring, Amy had been spanked three more times for "real" offenses. The "rule" had been firmly (!) established at two dozen hard spanks on the bare bottom, with six extra for a lack of cooperation. Amy always got the extra, so the rule might as well be stated as an even thirty. Whether the spanking was in play or as real punishment, Amy saw it as an erotic game. Like her mother, Amy had discovered the stinging warmup added a spice to their lovemaking available no other way. Lovemaking always followed the spanking. This kind of play was always at home, with Amy barely dressed anyway. The inevitable soon followed. Once, Jeff had offered to spank her in the car--she had just earned it--but Amy made it clear public places were out of bounds. Jeff respected that limit. But Amy was discovering that she could get away with just about anything with Jeff, so long as she was willing to put up with a spanking afterwards. Amy decided she like that kind of power. All she had to do was put on the "special" night gown (no need for the panties) and present Jeff with the red scarf before he found out whatever it was that she had done. The rule was well established, so she always knew exactly what she was in for. No more and no less. After the spanking, emotions spent, they were both in the right frame of mind to work out whatever the problem was like adults. Accusations, finger-pointing, guilt, and blame assignment were all unnecessary at that point. All that remained was to talk things out like responsible adults. Then they could kiss and make out. So far, to their naive young minds, this seemed a very good system. Were they manipulating each other, or taking mutual advantage of each other? Probably so. But they both knew that, and discussed it, and agreed things seemed to be working fine for the foreseeable future. Fortunately, they had formed a deeply intimate relationship, long before they had become sexually involved. (They had, you see, "waited" until marriage; and, until then, had to settle for talking with each other.) The spanking games were just one aspect of their sexuality, and their entire physical relationship was far from the totality of their marriage. Or so they assured each other. Not having the experience of a long-term marriage, they had no standard to judge by. Regardless of mutual assurances to the contrary, they spent the large proportion of their time with each other, communicating on a primarily physical level. In short, they were acting like newlyweds. Amy took their "crime and punishment" system a step further. There came the time when she knew she could not afford something, so she decided to put it on the Visa charge card. She would present Jeff the silk scarf that night; it would be worth it. She knew exactly what punishment the "rules" specified, and she was prepared to accept it. In fact, knowing what was coming, she was rather warm all day. When Jeff came home that evening, Amy was cooking dinner attired only in her electric-blue "baby doll" night gown. And not for the first time, of course. But this time she was wearing no panties. That didn't fit the "rules." Or did it? Carefully arranged in front of his place at the table, Jeff found the red silk scarf. So Amy was anticipating a hard spanking tonight, was she? Very well; the system seemed to be working. And the aftermath was always *most* enjoyable for both of them. But Jeff took no formal notice of the situation until after dinner. Amy was obviously a bit uncomfortable sitting through dinner without panties on, but likewise made no comment. Sitting through dinner with bare seat (and more) on vinyl was no trivial ordeal. In the state she was in-- already rather swollen down there in juicy anticipation--she sat through ever-increasing discomfort. Dinner was finally over. After they had washed and put away the dishes, and Amy had wiped down the chair where she had been sitting, Jeff asked what the occasion was. Amy gave a detailed story of her shopping trip--she had told him most of it during dinner--and eventually got around to explaining how she trapped herself into buying this one particular item. Then she realized they didn't have the money in their check book, so she had to put it on the Visa charge card. But she knew she wasn't supposed to do that; she knew exactly what that did to their budget. She was afraid things were going to be tight next month, but they actually did need this item she purchased, and she had found it on too good a sale to pass up. She had a point. But she also clearly understood that, according to their "rules," this called for a bare-bottom spanking. "Have you earned a bare- bottom spanking by using the charge card today?" Amy nodded, Yes. Jeff picked up the scarf and sat down on the edge of the sofa. Amy had followed him, and held her wrists out for binding. Over his knees she went, night gown riding up against her upper arms, knees not quite touching the carpet. She left her legs spread for his appreciation. But her bottom and upper thighs were already red! Sitting through dinner on a vinyl chair was a "bonus" neither had bargained for. Sure enough, Amy immediately discovered, her bottom was already sensitized as if she had been spanked earlier. Both filed that discovery for future use. Jeff spanked her hard, twenty-four times. As always, this brought tears to Amy's eyes, but she managed to lay still. Jeff picked her up and slid back to sit fully on the sofa, and bundled her into his lap. Her bottom stung too much for this to be completely comfortable, but Amy was as warmed up as usual and didn't mind too much. She snuggled up to her husband. Jeff spoke to her. "That spanking was for using the charge card today when you knew you should not have. But didn't you *plan* to use the card today, and figure you could get away with it at the cost of a spanking?" Oh, dear. Just when she had Jeff figured out, he was getting *her* figured out. Yes, he was right. Again. As usual, it seems. "I would hate to think you're manipulating me with that red scarf. I'm starting to get the impression you think you can get away with anything you want, so long as you get me to spank you before I find out." That's not exactly how she would put it, but she guessed he was pretty much correct. (And she realized she was still wearing the scarf. Was that an oversight? She was *not* about to bring that to his attention.) But Jeff untied her hands. That was a relief to Amy. Then Jeff announced, "Now I'm going to spank you for trying to manipulate me. Are you in fact guilty of trying to pull one over on me?" She was. Yes, it had been on purpose. She was not going to make *that* mistake again. She had gone too far, and now belatedly realized it. With this understanding, the lesson was learned, but their well-established "rules" required Jeff to continue to drive the point home. "Very well. Go fetch the paddle. It's about time we tried it out." Oh, no! She blushed thinking about that last time she had been paddled, just before her wedding. Jeff noticed her reaction and found it intensely interesting, but could not fathom the reason for this differing emotion. Amy caught his notice and decided it best to stop arguing and go find the paddle. She was *really* going to get it now. Amy began to cry. She *was* sorry. These were tears of repentance, not of spanked-bottom pain. Jeff assured her of his understanding, with a hug. But they both knew the "rules" and the reasons, and both assumed the punishment remained necessary. Amy disentangled herself to fetch the paddle, wiping her eyes and ignoring her bright-red bottom. When Amy returned with the paddle, Jeff untied the ribbon still on the handle. He suggested she could slip off her night gown, as it would just get in the way. Amy slipped out of the one garment, realizing something different was in the air. Jeff asked her to stand in the middle of the room, with her legs spread a couple of feet apart, and to grab her ankles. Amy assumed the position without the slightest difficulty. She remained very flexible, to her husband's continual delight. (Yes, they knew what a "Viennese oyster" was. Delicious, that's what.) Jeff took up his position behind and to the left, but decided to stop and enjoy the view for a moment. Among other charms, Amy was displaying a very red bottom. The tears still flowed, not of external pain but of catharsis, of the relieving of internal pain. This spanking would hurt like nothing had since she had been married, but she knew she would feel the better for it. Suddenly it was no longer an erotic game, but a real punishment. Remembering her last paddling, she was suddenly a little scared. But Amy was game to see it through, and held her upside-down position. Yes, there was a whole different set of dynamics in play this time. Jeff eventually took up *his* position and gave his wife a solid swat. Amy leaped upright, grabbing her bottom. Jeff was wondering why he hadn't been using the paddle to start with. It certainly seemed to do the job, without hurting his hand so much. Amy returned to her sharply bent-over position. Jeff struck again, right at the base of her bottom. Crack! Amy leaped up again to grab her back side with a squeal. Jeff found this most interesting but decided it was probably a bit severe. There were times to ignore his wife's tears, and there were times her feelings needed to be noticed. This was now a time to notice the tears. These were tears of sorrow, flowing copiously. She had not cried like this through her earlier spanking, even though it should have hurt worse. Still, Jeff sensed it would be a mistake to completely stop the punishment at this point. Rather, he would try a different approach. Amy had to feel punished with a spanking, or all would be for naught. Jeff sat the paddle down on the sofa and asked his wife to help him carry it to the center of the room, away from the wall. Amy had almost stopped crying now. She was game for more, and knew she deserved it, but was not sure that she needed it. But she was trusting Jeff's judgment; he seemed to have something specific in mind. With two swats, he seemed to be done punishing her for the manipulation. A mere two swats, even with the paddle, was unprecedented. But they seemed to have struck more deeply than mere skin and muscle (and, yes, a fat cell or two). Jeff held Amy tightly, both of them standing. The tears finally stopped rolling down her cheeks. "I think you still need to be paddled. But if you want me to stop, this time, just say so." Amy nodded. She was mentally shifting gears, preparing herself for a spanking. Amy stood along the back of the sofa and bent over to the seat cushion. By bending her knees a bit, she was laying on the back of the sofa with her bottom suspended invitingly. Jeff asked her to spread her feet apart until she could lay on the sofa back with her knees straight. He then had her bend over as sharply as she could, grabbing onto the front of the sofa to hold herself down. Jeff couldn't resist running his hands along her, exploring and tickling slightly. Amy giggled and said a paddling would be kinder. ("Good," Jeff thought to himself. They were back to the usual byplay.) Jeff began to paddle his wife rather far gently, low down on her back side. This approach seemed to produce a somewhat different sensation. Jeff gave her five identical swats, but they seemed to do little more than arouse his wife to a higher pitch. When Jeff inquired of his wife, she admitted as much. Yes, then, this approach seemed right for the moment. Jeff spanked her five more times with the paddle, gradually increasing in intensity. Amy started to cry again, but she raised no complaint. She seemed lost in the paddling. Jeff began to spank ever-so-slightly harder, and a bit more slowly. Ten more strokes brought Amy to her crisis point. Jeff stopped as Amy jerked her knees together and shuddered in orgasm, bent over the couch. The spanking was over, but Jeff kept his wife occupied, bent over the couch, for quite a while longer. He had taken her from behind after a spanking before, but never draped across the back of the couch. With or without the spanking, they would have to try that again! Not a week had passed by before it was finally Jeff's turn. He received a speeding ticket with his wife there in the car. Once they resumed their journey, Amy informed her husband that there was a paddle waiting for him at home. And so there was. After a little experimentation, they discovered the best results were achieved with Jeff across Amy's lap. No rule modifications proved to be necessary. And so the newlyweds' balance of power was finally achieved. Both were subject to discipline at need, but the "rules" established parameters and limits. Discipline only happened in play (even for "real" offenses)--if one or the other did not care to play the game, that person need only refuse to comply with the rules. The "mind game" aspect was as stimulating to both of them as the physical aspects. They were both constantly conspiring with each other to get around the rules or invent another one at need (to the other's distress). Of course, invented rules would generally entrap the inventor soon thereafter--the victim made sure of it. (Both Jeff and Amy found the "Calvin and Hobbes" comic strip a great inspiration in this regard.) And Amy's first paddling (by Jeff) had established the limit of the mind game--manipulation could fairly be taken so far, and no further. Anything beyond was a subject for true remorse, whether or not it was it was underscored with a paddling. But to this point, a great mystery remained. Jeff and Amy had kept secret the results of opening the mysterious wedding presents because they had wanted Tom and Barbara to roast with curiosity. But at the same time, they were intensely curious about what games *they* might have been playing all along. Amy had never had a clue before she married, and the nature of those presents was certainly suggestive. Chapter 24. Father and Mother of the Bride Barbara turned 46 on August 20th. Jeff and Amy had been married on February 20th, so that same Friday was their six-month wedding "anniversary." The young couple had invited Amy's parents over for a salmon dinner. Amy had arranged for everyone to arrive early in the afternoon. It was a bright, sunny, warm day. The two couples settled down outside to visit. Amy served iced tea, and then returned with a plate of sliced fresh apples, and a bowl of warm caramel sauce. Amy smiled sweetly, and Jeff could hardly keep a straight face. Since it was Barbara's birthday, the subject of families came up. Amy was 24 now. When Barbara was that age, she was just having her second child. And Lisa, they all knew, had herself just become engaged to be married. No, Amy was not yet pregnant. They might work on it soon, though. But that topic fell in with Jeff and Amy's plans. Amy disappeared into the townhouse (they only had close-by neighbors on one side, which was good for noise problems). She came back bearing a box, wrapped in plain brown postal paper. "Now that Lisa is engaged, we thought it might be good to give this gift back to you. We'll keep the plaque on display in our own bed room, and we won't be offended if you turn around and give this gift away again." Tom unwrapped the box. He and Barbara peeked inside. It was, of course, the paddle. "So, you think maybe Lisa would like the paddle?" "I don't know, but I bet you can set them up for a pretty interesting week. If she comes crying to her big sister, I can fill her in on a thing or two." This gift seemed to stand as permission for Tom and Barbara to inquire about how their wedding presents had been taken. They had been acknowledged with a "Thank You" note, but that was all. Tom asked. "Did the paddle ever get used?" Amy was prepared to answer. "We thought you might be curious, but we've also been wondering: How in the world did you think all those things up? And why was it only Jeff taking advantage of *me*, and not the other way around? Not that it didn't work out okay, but I was getting kind of mad at the time." Barbara explained. "Oh, we've used scarves and things since you were about five years old. Tom never gets tied up, but *I* do. We tried a few other things, but various kinds of scarves seemed the most interesting. You can also tuck a scarf or two in your suitcase. They don't take up any room. I always take a dark-colored scarf in the suitcase so I can wear it in public if it's too windy. And nobody suspects anything! Tom knows all kinds of scarf knots. If you ever get in a bind (Barbara paused and grinned), Tom could certainly help you out. Barbara continued explaining, "Once you were married, we didn't see any problem in sharing these kind of personal matters with you. Like a lot of things, it's better for kids to learn from their parents than to get half of the story somewhere else. We were a little worried that you wouldn't be into bondage at all, but we decided to go ahead and take the chance. Did it work out okay?" Jeff and Amy both had silly grins that provided answer enough. Tom took up the explanation. "We set up Jeff as the more dominant player because that's how we prefer it. We decided to give you an idea of how *we* play and let you take it from there. I knew full well, for example, that a Boy Scout like Jeff would know the difference between a surgeon's knot and a square knot, and that he would know better than to tie a granny knot. But we gave very careful instructions for one method of hand tying so *Amy* would be standing on equal ground. We assumed that, at least by the second time, Amy would be paying very close attention to exactly how to tie someone up and make him helpless." Amy's satisfied look showed that her father had been correct on that score. Indeed she had paid *very* careful attention. She disclosed, "Well, there *was* one morning that Jeff's snoring was keeping me awake. I shook him but he wouldn't wake up or roll over. I got both scarves completely tied before he woke up. He's a more careful sleeper now." Tom took up the explanation once again. "We hadn't thought about creating the third package until you brought it on yourself. Then everything fit together. We set the scene, and decided to let nature take its course. We had no idea, naturally, how you two would treat the situation. But the spanking was already earned, so we hoped we were on relatively safe ground. At least, if you came demanding an explanation, we could give one! Of course we never actually found out what happened. We've been wondering all along if this paddle ever got used." Jeff answered for them. "Yes. It got used, all right, but not until last June. I think we'll remember *that* day for a while. But it sounds like we were guessing wrong. The paddling business all came from the shoplifting problem, then. Amy's mother doesn't actually get spanked." Barbara replied. "Well... There's a bit of a story there that you might appreciate by now. You heard that Lisa got spanked, too, for getting you in trouble in the first place?" "Yes, Kim told me. Actually she said that Lisa had come over to apologize, and that she was going to get a spanking as soon as she got back home. I'm *sure* she got a good one, but she hasn't talked to me about it. Did you know that was the same day Jeff and I opened your presents?" They didn't know that. "Amazing," Barbara replied. "This family had a lot of firsts that day, didn't we! Tom spanked me the same day for roughly the same reason as Lisa. That was the first time he had ever spanked me. So, fortunately, I have never been paddled. Tom had spanked me before Lisa got back home, so (luckily) Kim and Dianne never knew." Jeff spoke. "So all three of you got spanked the same evening, and nobody ever knew. That *is* amazing! What did you think of it? I don't suppose you have ever been spanked since?" "Well, it hurt a lot, but it was--ah--interesting. About three weeks later, I managed to get spanked again." Amy smiled at that. She had done the same, but in considerably less than three weeks. Barbara had a bit of difficulty telling this tale, but between them, Tom and Barbara got things explained. It seemed Barbara was arranging to get herself spanked every three or four weeks. Tom spanked her to tears every time, so she couldn't take it any more often than that. But they both found the results of the spanking to be immensely satisfactory. The first time they knew about. That was the same day Amy got her first spanking as a wife. The second time, Barbara announced that Lisa was gone for the night and Barbara did not care to make dinner that evening. What was Tom going to do about it? Tom would take her out to dinner. Then he would bring her home for a sound spanking. The better the dinner, the sounder the spanking. Barbara retorted by making reservations at the most expensive restaurant she could find, that was not fully booked. This was going to cost him. Tom made a remark to the effect of, "Three course meal--three course spanking." The meal was five courses, plus dessert. They took in a movie after dinner. They enjoyed the time out together, and allowed their dinner to digest. Neither had any doubts about what was to take place once they returned home. Five courses, and the dessert came in generous measure. It seemed that every time since, Barbara had done something to "earn" herself a spanking. But upon the details both parents remained tactfully silent. With this disclosure, Jeff and Amy decided to describe the entire evening of opening the mysterious presents. As Jeff described the part about the candied apple slices, Amy took a slice from the tray before them and tore into it with a growl and a voracious bite. They all laughed and laughed. Tension had been building in the air with all of these unprecedented disclosures, and they were all glad of the chance to laugh and relax. Then Jeff explained the part about doing everything but stand her on her head, and they all laughed the harder. Thanks to the intervening months, Jeff and Amy could now be comfortable describing their adventures. They described their adventures with the scarves, but there was nothing here of surprise to Amy's parents. Barbara asked if they had yet thought of this or that, and Tom and Barbara came forth with some further tips and suggestions. Mostly, they described what did *not* work. And Amy thought *she* was adventurous! She had a lot to learn. Her Mom was really something. That third package had caused some consternation, especially on Amy's part. So far, she had been cast in the role of being on the receiving end. It had looked like that role was about to take a turn for the worst. The explanation about games and switching roles helped a little bit. But when they opened the plaque, Amy knew she had been framed as beautifully as her mother's art work. Jeff was faced with a quandary. This seemed to be a private family joke, and he was not sure what the whole story was. Jeff had realized that, in the long run, he would probably be more sorry if he did *not* take action. So he had stopped discussing it, led her over to the couch, and placed their daughter across his knees. He wasn't too good at it, but she *did* get spanked. Amy politely corrected Jeff. That spanking had been plenty good enough. They went on to explain that every time Amy wore that particular night gown, she managed to get lightly spanked on one pretext or another. (Amy noted that not all of those spankings had been particularly light.) They explained about their "rules" and secret codes. A word could be mentioned in mixed company, and they knew what the game would be as soon as they were alone, and nobody around them had any idea a message had been passed. Only a few of the games involved spanking or scarves, of course--but refusal to participate might well be rewarded with a spanking. Naturally, Amy sometimes refused to participate. To date, Jeff had never refused. Tom and Barbara were extremely impressed. It had taken them *years* to work out that level of communication. Jeff and Amy gave a lot of credit to their thoughtful wedding presents. That's why they were returning the paddle. Tom and Barbara might need it if they planned to pass on some of their wisdom to Lisa as she married. But there was more to the story. Amy had gotten used to being spanked, and was willing to be spanked for "real" offenses. Just like that framed plaque had suggested. So she had decided that she could get away with anything she wanted to, so long as she got Jeff to spank her before he otherwise found out. It was much easier, sometimes, to beg forgiveness than to ask permission. Jeff used that paddle, for the first time, in the process of straightening her out on the subject. For three months now, there had been no problems in that area. "So the paddle only got used once?" Tom asked. Amy replied, "No, Jeff got it once a week later. And it's actually been used several times since." They were getting back into a more delicate area here, but Jeff continued. "We discovered that, when applied in just a certain way, the paddle seemed to have an entirely different effect from a 'normal' spanking. In fact, we kind of hated to give the paddle up." Jeff grinned that silly grin again and finished, "But Amy just couldn't stand the thought of keeping something back from her sister." Tom and Barbara laughed. Yes, there was no doubt Amy was willing to have Lisa set up for a spanking. A poetically just return for the shoplifting incident. Barbara asked if Amy could describe what that "entirely different effect" was. Amy got a dreamy look on her face. After a few moments, she shook her head. No, she couldn't describe it. Now it was Barbara's turn to be impudent. "I don't suppose you'd care to demonstrate?" From rdragon@ix.netcom.com Wed Dec 25 11:42:17 1996 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: FATHER OF THE BRIDE 9/9 From: rdragon@ix.netcom.com(***) Date: 25 Dec 1996 16:42:17 GMT //Archive-name: FathrBride.8 //Author: an50731 //Title: Father of the Bride, Chap 25-30 Assume the following story is fiction. Copyright 1994 by the author. All rights reserved. To be redistributed only with permission of the author. Archive permission has been granted to the "hermes" file server. (That's where you *should* have obtained this file.) Feedback solicited. Comments, suggestions, criticisms to an50731@anon.penet.fi. Chapter 25. Amy Challenges Oh, ho! Conversation was one thing, but demonstration was another. But both parents had seen Amy spanked before, of course, and Barbara pointed that fact out. Amy thought about that and laid down the challenge. "Very well. Jeff and I can demonstrate. But only if Mom will try it too. And then we can have dinner." There. She'd said it just right. She had committed them before Jeff could intervene, and had made it clear that there would be no extracurricular activities after the paddling. After all these years, to see her mother spanked would be worth it. All were a bit surprised at Amy's challenge. What an impudent little minx! Well, she always had been the adventurous type. It looked like the younger generation would be teaching the older one a thing or two. Barbara was suddenly not so sure about this, but just as obviously intrigued by the prospect. She asked Tom his opinion, and they both agreed. Jeff realized he was already committed, and likewise agreed with a warning to Amy that this might cost her later on. She had figured as much. Jeff took on the role of "Master of Ceremonies." He invited everyone inside. They all helped carry in the leftovers, and Tom presented Jeff the box with the comment, "You'll be wanting to borrow this, I presume?" Jeff formally thanked Tom and led everyone inside. Tom and Jeff brought two chairs from the kitchen, setting them next to the guest chair. These were for the audience's convenience, Jeff explained, but nobody was required to sit down if they did not care to. Jeff and Amy moved the sofa to the middle of the room. Jeff stood behind the sofa, facing the audience. "The way we found to achieve the right effect is for the victim to bend over the back of the sofa, here. That's why we have to move it to the middle of the room. We have also found it prudent to place a towel across the top here, so the upholstery doesn't get stained. Amy, if you don't mind?" Amy produced a towel, and carefully spread it out along the top of the sofa back. The towel was thick and fluffy, but she knew that when she lay on it, the texture had just the right amount of roughness. Jeff continued his discourse. "Every time Amy has been paddled here, she has already had her bottom well-warmed with a hand spanking. I don't know if this part is strictly necessary, but I would certainly hate to skip a step and ruin the entire effect." Amy showed her dismay. But she said nothing. Jeff explained this reaction, too, in his best professorial manner. "As you can see, Amy has no reply to such impeccable logic. As we explained to you earlier, our 'rules' say one must bow to the inevitable in the face of such impeccable logic. Actually, I am a bit surprised. Amy is usually at her logical and creative best when the state of her back side is at risk. She would usually have three different explanations of why it was not necessary to spank her. What that means, of course, is that she wants to see her mother across someone's knee before dinner." Amy was sitting in the audience, with her parents. She smiled vindictively and concurred. "Jeff got it right the first time, again!" Chapter 26. Warm Up Jeff walked around and sat down on the sofa, on the right side, with his knees slightly to the left. Amy stood up. One could not help but note the presence of such beauty. Any time Amy stood up (or sat down, for that manner), people noticed. Jeff was very proud of his wife. Today Amy was wearing a light cotton blouse with the tails gathered and tied at the waist, with matching candy-striped shorts. She reached to begin removing her shorts. Jeff stopped her. "I think we can demonstrate with clothing intact today. Just come on over." Barbara was relieved. She, herself, had been about to object. Amy knelt down to Jeff's right and leaned herself across his lap, with the upper part of her body laying comfortably on the left side of the couch. That left her bottom aimed nearly at the audience. It was pointed a little to their left, but, she was sure, in full view. But, this time, she was sure her parents were going to enjoy the show. Jeff shifted her a little bit forward so that her knees were no longer touching the floor. Jeff explained. "This is not actually a punishment spanking, and Amy is much more comfortable laying like this." Suiting actions to words, he continued. "I can wrap my left arm all the way around her waist like this, so she's kind of tucked under my arm. In this position, she's going nowhere, and since I'm leaning to my left, away from her legs, she can't kick me either. Unless she really struggles, it's actually quite relaxing. If she gets too talkative, I can just sort of lean down on her back and the sofa pretty much muffles whatever it is she had to say. I'm turned the other way and am free to pay attention to the task at hand." Jeff slapped his wife on the bottom, letting his hand lay there. Tom and Barbara agreed that was most sensible. Jeff proceeded with the spanking. Jeff continued his lecture, hardly paying any attention at all to the fact that he was spanking his wife. He might as well have been giving a running commentary to a class of students as he mixed two chemicals together to show their effect. "The objective here is to produce an all-around warmth. As you can see, I am not spanking especially hard, only about medium. And Amy is quite relaxed, just like she is supposed to be. Having started at the middle, I work around to the outside of one side for a while, then a bit higher, and then a bit lower. Then I take care of the other side to make sure things are balanced out." Jeff continued the spanking, with a casual running commentary the whole time. Jeff addressed all of his remarks to his audience, completely ignoring Amy. "I suspect Amy's bottom is finally beginning to warm up. With these shorts on, of course, it's a bit hard to tell. But you can see she's having a little trouble keeping her legs still, and she's starting to squirm a little bit. That's a good sign. But the tops of her legs need to be warm, too, so I'll take care of that now." Amy squealed, "No!" Jeff continued, "Amy always protests when I spank her legs." Jeff continued spanking her bottom a bit longer, as he explained what was to come. "She will probably kick quite a bit. Under those circumstances, it's actually quite difficult to get an even pink from about midway to her knees, up to the rest of the pink area. I don't know why she makes it so difficult for me, but she always does." Without changing rhythm, Jeff reached over to swat the back of her left leg, right in the middle. He timed her kick perfectly, and slapped the back of her right leg. "Now I'll try to make an even pink from there back up to her bottom." He leaned into Amy's back a bit to cut off her protests, and continued to catch the back of her legs on the upswing. "As you can see, Amy can freely twist and turn, but her waist is immobilized, so it doesn't actually do any good. But she struggles anyway." Jeff declared four swats to each leg adequate, for demonstration purposes. The skin below the hem of Amy's shorts was definitely pink, but not an angry red. Jeff returned to spanking her bottom. Amy struggled to get her head raised a little bit. She announced that this was already good enough. Jeff explained to the audience, "Amy will always tell me when the spanking is hard enough, so I never need to worry on that score. The problem is that she's usually wrong. It probably comes from being too close to the situation-- her perspective is a little off. But by the second or third time she tells me, she's usually right. Amy knows all this, of course, and has tried any number of ways to 'cheat.' She has tried to tell me, too soon, that the spanking is good enough. She has tried to tell me a second time right after the first. She has tried begging and bargaining, and all manner of such cheating." Jeff continued casually slapping his wife's shorts-clad bottom. "You can probably guess how I treated the cheating incidents. But, I think she's right. This should be a good enough spanking for demonstration purposes." Jeff continued slapping. "As you can see, I did not spank especially hard. I concentrated on being thorough. Still, it looks to me like Amy can tell that she's been spanked." Jeff finally stopped spanking, laying his right hand across Amy's legs to settle her down. Amy stood up. Her eyes were a bit watery. Regardless of Jeff's assurances, that one had hurt. But he was right; she had been well-spanked prior to every paddling. She would do her best to ensure her mother got the same. Chapter 27. Demonstration Jeff stood up and walked his wife to the back of the sofa. The towel was still in place. Amy lay over the back of the sofa while Jeff continued his lecture. "What works best is for Amy to lay right on the back, here. I have her spread her legs pretty far apart, so that she can stand there with her knees straight. Then she leans over as tightly as she can, with her abdomen pressing against the back of the sofa. She can just reach to grab the couch frame in front, there, to hold herself in place. It seems useful for her to have something to pull against." Both parents realized their daughter was displayed most provocatively. No wonder the kids liked it. "Now I start paddling her down low, very gently. Hardly more than a tap. I think Amy lets her mind wander, so that she doesn't even notice it. She stays completely relaxed, except for holding on with her hands." Amy concurred with an "Mmmmm." They had never actually discussed that aspect. Jeff continued, as he began to strike her with the paddle, "After a while, I will very gradually increase how hard I spank her with the paddle. I concentrate on staying low, just getting her lower bottom and upper thighs. Once she starts squirming a little bit, I adjust the tempo accordingly." Jeff now fell into silence, and began carefully paddling his wife as he had just described. Amy's parents sat and watched in rapt attention. Jeff slowly increased the strength of his strikes. Amy remained relaxed and apparently off in some dream land of her own. But the paddling was having its effect. Amy still showed no notice of the spanking, but her hips began to move ever so slightly. She remained in her own world, paying no notice to the audience. Jeff again slowly increased the strength of the paddling. Soon, Amy could no longer ignore him. "Ouch." Amy sounded like she was waking from a deep sleep. Now each splatting swat yielded another "Ouch." Her clear enunciation showed that she was fully awake now. "Ouch... Ouch... Ouch." Jeff continued spanking her with the same firmness, the same tempo. Amy lay there and took it, but all could see the tension was rising. Amy hung on to the sofa frame and struggled to keep from kicking her feet. Another five or six swats, and Amy's arousal was clear. She would soon be coming to the point of crisis. Jeff gave one hard swat with the paddle, right on the highest point of her bottom, a couple of inches higher than he had been striking. Amy yelled in surprise, "Hey!" Jeff announced that the demonstration was complete. Amy could get up now. Amy stood up, but she was steaming. "What a cruel trick! I'll get you for that later!" Jeff reached around her and kissed her thoroughly. That didn't seem to help any. Jeff patted her on the bottom and noted that they still had guests to entertain, and a dinner to cook. Tom and Barbara were deeply affected by the demonstration. All they could say was, "Wow!" Barbara was now extremely nervous. Chapter 28. Barbara Accepts the Challenge Finally, Tom spoke. "Yes, I think we'll try exactly the same procedure. Jeff, I'd like you to do the warm-up part and then help me get things arranged right for the paddling. I have a feeling Amy won't at all mind seeing Jeff spanking her mother. I would have thought she'd be happy to see me using the paddle on someone besides herself, but now I'm not so sure!" Amy assured her parents she would be a very attentive and appreciative audience. Jeff sat down on the couch as before. Barbara was wearing a sun dress with a full skirt, in a cotton print. The fabric was light weight in deference to the warmth of the day. She had no more protection from the stinging slaps to come than her daughter had. Barbara knelt and then lay across her son-in-law's lap, resting her upper body along the sofa. She scooted forward until she was in the same position her daughter had been. Jeff arranged her dress so that it was smooth across her bottom and then stroked her bottom and legs to get the dress to conform to her body as much as possible. Jeff wrapped his left arm around Barbara's waist and began spanking in the same casual fashion as before. Barbara remained relaxed and casual, letting Jeff spank her all over. Jeff took his time. He spanked without comment this time. Jeff worked over her entire bottom area, just as he had with Amy. Barbara had a little bit more bottom area, but not much. Barbara retained a slim waist, but her hips were no doubt wider due to child bearing. It was obvious whence Amy had inherited her beauty. Jeff turned to Barbara's legs. Barbara still had no comment. Her only reaction was to clench her legs tightly together, catching some of the fabric of her dress between them. Barbara remained silent through six slaps to each leg. Jeff looked up to Tom. "Is this normal? Am I being too gentle? Amy would be nearly frantic by now." Tom replied, "Look at her face." Jeff let go with his left hand. Barbara twisted around to look up at Jeff. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. Barbara stated in her mother-lecturing-daughter tone of voice, "I didn't see any need to make a big scene like Amy did." So the challenge had been accepted! Jeff inquired, "Shall I spank you the same as Amy, or do you need a harder spanking to get warmed up?" Barbara pronounced, "I want it to be exactly the same as your demonstration with Amy." Barbara then turned back to the sofa so Jeff could continue the warm-up. Jeff had a tiger by the tail, so to speak. He resumed spanking Barbara. Barbara remained perfectly still, as if nothing were happening. If this were Amy, he would have lifted her dress, pulled her panties down, and spanked her hard enough to get a reaction. But this was not Amy. He continued to spank Barbara, just as hard and long as he had spanked his own wife, but no longer. He would have to be satisfied with knowing the paddle would get a reaction from her. Especially since she had never been paddled before. Chapter 29. Barbara Stands the Test Jeff had finished Barbara's "warm up." Barbara stood up. She had not made a sound, but a few tears were slowly dripping down her face. She gave a lopsided smile, not even bothering to wipe away the tears, and walked around to the back of the sofa. All three helped arrange Barbara in just the proper position. Barbara was a couple of inches shorter than her daughter. That presented difficulties. Barbara bent forward, over the back of the sofa. She let her weight rest on the sofa back, steadying herself with her hands on the seat cushion. Her legs were shorter, so she couldn't spread them as far as Amy had and still stand on the floor. Jeff assured her the width was important. Barbara spread her legs apart the prescribed amount, resting just on her toes. With her weight forward, she was sure she could hold herself that way. Then came the next problem. She could not quite reach the sofa frame the same way her daughter had. Amy solved that problem with glee. She would be happy to hold her mother's hands while her mother got her bottom paddled. Poetic justice was once again served. Barbara was now in position. Tom took up the paddle. Jeff explained apologetically that it was vitally important Tom be able to properly see the target. In other words, it was important that Barbara have her skirt lifted out of the way. Jeff then sat down to form the audience. The skirt of Barbara's sun dress was very full. That is, Tom had no problem lifting it out of the way, to completely expose Barbara's pale blue nylon panties. Tom tucked the dress a bit under her hips so that it would stay out of the way. Tom asked his wife if she was ready. She was. Barbara had just the tips of her fingers around the sofa frame, and Amy sat in front of her, holding her wrists firmly in place. Amy could bear down with her weight if need be to keep Barbara from escaping. Amy reminded her mother to think of something else, to completely ignore what was happening. (Amy was kneeling, keeping her bottom off the carpet. And kneeling like that, she knew very well her husband's attention would not be limited to observing her mother.) Tom began stroking his wife's bottom with the paddle. He began gently, just as Jeff had with Amy. Tom gave her a dozen light swats across her panties. Tom realized the idea was to give her a false sense of security, to give her the impression that this spanking could safely be ignored. Jeff watched with approval. Tom slightly increased the severity for a half-dozen swats, and then spanked her yet harder. Barbara made not a sound, not a motion, not a twitch. Her back side jiggled a bit at each swat, but that was the only motion. Jeff signaled to Tom to continue spanking at this severity for a while. This intensity was too much for Barbara to completely ignore. But a dozen identical swats allowed Barbara to regain her impression that externals could be safely ignored. But Amy, holding her mother's wrists, could tell that tension was building. There were no external indications, but Amy could feel her mother starting to pull away from the sofa frame. Amy held her in place, and her mother began to ever-so-slightly pull against Amy. Amy whispered between blows, "Keep on just as you are." Tom paddled on, just as the kids had indicated. There was a volcano building here, and it was going to take a while before the volcano would be ready to blow. The steady swats stirred the otherwise silent room. Jeff motioned to turn up the heat. Tom glanced at Amy, and she nodded. Time to present Barbara with a situation she could no longer ignore. Splat! "Oh!" Just as Amy had, Barbara woke up. To find a very, very warm backside. Splat! "Ouch!" Barbara clenched her bottom after that blow, but had little success with her legs spread so far. Her panties began to soak through. That, of course, was a good sign. In spite of noises to the contrary, Barbara was enjoying her "education." Tom continued spanking her in earnest. Barbara began to cry, her sobs in synchrony with the swats to her bottom. She pulled on her wrists, but kept her feet in place. She cried out, "Oh, it hurts!" But she was not in any way frantic. Tom stepped up the tempo a bit further, and Barbara ground her hips into the towel-covered sofa after each of the next three strokes. Time to finish up, Tom realized, or the volcano would blow. Tom hesitated a few extra seconds, and laid his best punishing swat of the paddle to the highest part of her bottom, the same as Jeff had to Amy. Barbara shrieked in surprised agony and made to get up. Checked with her wrists held in place, she began kicking her feet wildly. Amy held her tight and informed her mother in a sickly-sweet voice, "Now you know how it feels." Only then did Amy release Barbara's arms. Barbara stood up, pushing herself up off the seat cushion. She grabbed the back of the sofa and staggered. Her dress was still partly caught up around her waist. Tom grabbed her to steady her, hugging her and smoothing her dress back down. Barbara said, "I'm fine now. I probably just blew a fuse!" Chapter 30. Dinner Conversation Amy asked her mother if she would mind helping her get the salmon broiled. The two women repaired to the kitchen, talking about whatever it is that well-spanked wives discuss among themselves. Jeff found out later that they had shared stories of newlywed cooking disasters. By time the salmon was cooking, they had calmed down enough to make repairs to hair and face. The paddle lay in its box on the sofa, the sofa returned by Tom and Jeff to the wall. Dinner was picture-perfect. The dinner conversation turned to other topics. Both couples steered away from the afternoon's demonstration. But both women were eyeing each other, to see who would squirm in her seat first. Amy jumped up to refill the pitcher, and Barbara was immediately up to help her. Their excuse quickly exhausted, the women returned to their seats. Tom renewed the subject. "Are you both *sure* you want to return that paddle? It seems you two are able to put it to better use than we had ever expected." Amy was firm in her determination that her sister not be short-changed in her marriage experience. Jeff wondered if perhaps Tom would be willing to make them a new one. Jeff would be happy to buy the wood. Tom would be delighted to, and would select the wood himself. He would stick with maple. Jeff suggested that the effect might be a bit better yet if the blade were just the tiniest bit longer, and just about an inch wider. It seemed to be that splatting sensation which made the difference, and spreading the impact over slightly wider territory might be most advantageous. The thickness seemed just right. Of course, he couldn't go too far wrong making one identical to that old family heirloom laying on the sofa. Tom inquired of the local experts, and the two women agreed Jeff might be right. Tom said he would make one as suggested, and once the design was well-tested, he would make a second one for his own use. Jeff agreed that seemed a reasonable plan. Jeff graciously offered use of their sofa for testing; he and Amy could arrange to be out for the evening. Jeff further noted that with a couple of scarves available, Amy's assistance would be unnecessary. Dinner complete, Tom and Barbara declined dessert. It seemed they needed to get home early tonight. Nobody needed to guess why. There had been two extremely frustrated women at dinner, both remaining highly aroused. Tom and Jeff were in hardly better shape. As her parents were leaving, Amy had one last piece of advice. "Make sure Mom gets her birthday spanking tonight!" //End of FathrBride