Tuesday, January 28, 2014

From the Top Shelf - Andy

It's been quite a while since I shared an F/m story with you so I went searching for one, and was pleased to discover this one written by Rollin Hand. It's Part 1 of "The Truth about Andy" from Rollin's published book Tales from a Switch, and I think you will enjoy it.

The truth is, my husband Andy is the kindest, gentlest, most loving husband a woman could have. He’s a great dad to our two kids, Katy and Jeff. He’ll go all out to do the whole dad thing—soccer, little league, PTA, you name it.

At Halloween, it’s our house that has the scary graveyard on the porch and it’s Andy who jumps out wearing a monster mask and carrying a rubber cleaver. I don’t know who has more fun, Andy or the kids. At Easter, he’s the Easter Bunny, at Christmas, Santa. In short, he’s a big kid at heart.

He goofs off with his buddies. They play pranks on each other. He’s a stand-up comedian when we’re with company. The guy singing off key with the lampshade on his head is usually Andy. April Fool’s day—don’t get me started—the fake dog poo, the rubber snakes, the clocks turned an hour forward. I guess I should be used to it.

It is a good thing I’m a bit more grounded. I keep the house running, the bills paid, the kids clothed, and hold down a job as a personnel director for a fairly large company. Andy is a computer engineer by trade and he makes a good living. So it’s Andy’s inner child that I have to restrain because otherwise things would get a little too wild around here, if you know what I mean.

That’s the thing—Andy is a fine man, but at times, a mischievous boy. Not a bad boy, mind you, he just never outgrew his Dennis the Menace phase... So the way I keep things down to a mild roar is a bit unusual, but hardly unique.

It started one night after a dinner with business acquaintances. Now I had told Andy to cool it this one time because I knew one of the couples was wired a trifle tight. Ed and Vivian were solid church-going folk—a bit too stuffy if you asked me, but Ed was one of the bosses I reported to, so you have to live with that.

But Andy was in comedian mode and told some story that upset Ed and Vivian. I groaned inwardly when he launched the punchline (now where’s that Eskimo woman I’m supposed to wrestle?) but it was too late. I knew Andy had gotten a little too revved up but he was channeling Johnny Carson and wouldn’t listen to me, even when I cautioned that one of these couples wouldn’t appreciate even mild off color humor. So I was put out with him and I let him know it all the way home.

So when we got home he said something like, “Look Rachael, if you’re so upset, why don’t you just, uhh… spank me? Here, I’ll bend over—go ahead.” And he bent over, sticking his bottom out and holding his knees. When I did nothing he looked around over his shoulder and said,

“Well?”

So I said, “Don’t be ridiculous.” And Andy said, “No, I mean it. Go on, give me a good smack.” But Andy was grinning as he said it.

Now to me, this was Andy in full Andy mode, doing his usual clowning around. So I had an epiphany. I was going to call his bluff.

So I said, “So Andy, are you serious, dear? You really think I should smack your little bottom?”

And Andy straightened up and said, “Rachael, I’m sorry, really, and if it will make you feel better, just go right ahead and fire away. Hard as you want. I can take it. Give me your best shot”. Then he bent over again, sticking his butt out.

So I said, “Hmmm, you know, you might have something there, dear. But let’s not do it here. Why don’t you go down stairs to the rec room and wait for me there?”

Andy shot me a quizzical look, and said “The…uh, rec room? oh, ok… but…”

I folded my arms and started tapping my foot. This is my ‘I mean business’ look. It works most of the time. “But what, Andy? You said you wanted me to spank you. Ok, I think I will; so go down there and wait for me.” Then I just pointed at the door.

Well, he got this stunned look on his face. It was priceless—Andy at a loss for words for once; but he  shrugged and headed for the stairs.

Meanwhile I formed a plan. I knew that somewhere we had one of those joke paddles—you know the kind—they say “for the cute little ‘deer’ with the ‘bear’ behind”. I thought this would be just the ticket, so I went up to our room and found it in the closet.

I made sure the kids were asleep and closed their door. I figured this might get noisy. Andy saw the paddle in my hand when I came in the room. He’d been idling by the couch, arms folded impatiently, but now he pointed at the little paddle in my hand and said, “Now wait a minute, Rachael, what do you think you are going to do with that?”

And I said, as sweetly as I could, “Why, give you your spanking, Andy. That is what this is for, right?” I said, holding it up for him to see. And then I smacked it in my palm and said, “Ouch! Yeah. This will do nicely.” And for effect I blew on my hand.

Andy just gaped at me. I sat on the padded foot rest in front of the couch and crooking my finger at him said, “Ok, Andy, come over here. Let’s go. One sound spanking, coming up.”

Andy started to protest again, but I just gave him my best you-are-in-trouble look and said, “Andy, you asked for this and now you want to go back on it? I’m willing to put this little incident behind us, but you have to do what I tell you.”

Andy scratched his head and said. “Geez. Now you won’t hit me hard with that thing, will you?”

I said, very matter of factly, “I’m in charge of this spanking, not you. You don’t get to dictate terms. Now come over here.”

So Andy said, “But I didn’t think…”

And I said, “Oh, you didn’t think I’d really do it? So that’s why you offered? So now you’re going to fink out and be a big coward about it?”

“Well, no,” he said, “but I was just…”

“You were just clowning around. I know”. By this time he’d actually moved over to my side. I guessed I’d shamed him into it.

“But, c’mon, Rachael, it was just a little joke and…”

I reminded him that his little joke had upset the wife of superior of mine and that this could impact our social and professional networking. My next command startled him even more. I said, “Take down your pants and get across my knee.”

Predictably, Andy said, “Oh, no, now wait a minute. My pants? You can’t be serious. And over your knee like some 6 year old kid getting a spanking from mommy? No way!”

“Andrew James Jordan,” I said,” get your pants down and get yourself across my lap right now. We are really doing this. It was your idea, so quit stalling and take them down.”

Andy gave this big sigh and rolled his eyes, “For God’s sake, this is ridiculous,” but he dropped his pants and climbed over my lap.

But I wasn’t done, oh, no. I said, “Lift up.” Andy says, “What?” I just said, as sweetly as I could, “My dearest husband, studies have shown that spankings are so much more effective when delivered to the bare behind of the recipient, so raise up, please.”

And Andy groaned in protest but did as I asked. Now I had Andy’s bare, and if I may say so, oh so cute, hiney at my disposal. Andy is about my height and slender, so he fit over my lap rather nicely. He had a nice bottom too, round and cute with little dimples. I could even feel a little hint of arousal, to tell you the truth, but I had to put that aside for now. There was a job to do.

I grabbed the paddle and tapped his behind a few times, just getting the feel of it. Then I smacked him, hard. He jumped and yelped, “Ouch!”

It left a big red band. I drew back and smacked him again and he let out an “Oww! Rachael. Hey!”

I ignored him and just launched into it, picking up my tempo, smacking Andy’s bottom pretty hard about ten times real fast. The effect was immediate. Andy let out another yell, arched his back, and lifted his legs. It must have really stung his bottom. I said, “Hush, Andy, you’ll wake the children.” But he yelped, “My God, Rachael that really hurts. Come on, ease up, will you?”

Ease up? No way. I was looking at the immediate red flush I’d painted on his rear cheeks and thought, well this is going pretty good. I said, “Sorry dear, we are just getting started.” The next ten or so were still hard but slower and more deliberate. At each smack Andy let out an “owww” and made that little “sssss” sound when you suck in air and drummed his toes on the floor.

Then I switched gears again and spanked with a rapid tattoo, left cheek, right cheek, both together, maybe not as hard, but the cumulative effect of a lot of brisk spanks had Andy squirming and bucking and trying to choke back his yells. I guess he didn’t want the kids to come down and see their father sprawled out over mommy’s lap getting his bare bottom roasted. After about a minute of this treatment Andy was begging me to stop, but I just said, “This is a spanking, Andy. The real thing. I know it hurts (smack! Smack!) but you’ll just (smack! Whap!) have to grin and bear it.”

His butt must have really been stinging by then. It was bright red. I think I even said, “Whew, this is making me hot,” and Andy sputtered, “Well how the hell do you think I feel? Please, Rachael, let me up. I won’t crack any more bad jokes, honest to God.”

But I felt like I had to drive the point home, so I said. “Ok, Andy, here’s how it’s going to be. I’m giving you 15… no, 20 real good stingers with this little toy then we’re all done. They’re going to be hard ones. Don’t try to get off my lap. Stay in position like a big boy. Here we go.” I tapped once or twice then lifted the paddle and brought it down with a firm snap of my wrist. The paddle made a crack like a firecracker and Andy stifled back a screech and seemed to almost levitate off my lap. “Good God, Rachael, that thing stings like a whole bees nest!”

But crack! I gave it to him again.

“Maybe you’d better count them off, Andy,” I said. He kind of sobbed, “Ok, ok, but not so hard. Please…”. I guess I did ease up a little and we managed to get through it, Andy counting each one and me trying to smack him square across his bright red bottom with nice snap of my wrist each time, just to make sure I got the point across.

When I let him up he gave me the funniest look while he stood there rubbing his behind like mad. It was as if he couldn’t believe I’d just done what I had just done. I had to giggle.

There he was, pants at his ankles, eyes bugged out wide and hopping and rubbing. I took pity on him at that point and said, “Poor baby,” and gave him a big hug. I actually smothered his face with kisses because now I felt like I could give my arousal free rein. I noticed Andy was good and hard too, despite his obvious discomfort. We practically tore off each other’s clothes and Andy had me right there on the rec room couch. After awhile we got up, went up to the bedroom and damn if we didn’t do it again.

Later as Andy ruefully rubbed some of my cold cream on his still red hiney, he said, “Ok maybe I deserved that. I asked for it I guess.” I said, “That you did—in more ways than one.” Then he added with a grin, “I guess there were some fringe benefits.” I said “Right again. I think I’ll hang on to this little paddle.”

And he said, “Only if I get to use it too—when you act up.”

“Andy, my dear, I don’t act up. You do. You are the biggest 12 year old kid I know, and now I think I have the solution to your juvenile impulses.”


Thank you, Rollin, for allowing me to share this lovely story.

From Hermione's Heart

8 comments:

Kenzie said...

Lol this was cute. Thanks for sharing. :)

ronnie said...

Enjoyed that. Lovely story. Thanks.

Love,
Ronnie
xx

Leigh Smith aka Sunny Girl said...

Great story, thanks Rollin and Hermione. Couldn't help but think of Robin Williams in Mrs. Doubtfire when she described Andy.

Rollin said...

My pleasure, Hermione. Delighted that you featured this story.

Hermione said...

Kenzie - I 'm glad you liked it.

Ronnie - It was one of my favourites from Rollin's books.

Sunny - Wow! I never thought of him, but it fits the description.

Rollin - It makes a nice change of pace from M/f. You have something for every taste!

Hugs,
Hermione

Roz said...

Thank you Rollin and Hermione. Wonderful story. Really enjoyed this.

Hugs,
Roz

Our Bottoms Burn said...

Rolling writes some great F/M scenes.

Hermione said...

Roz - It was my pleasure.

Bogey - He sure knows his stuff!

Hugs,
Hermione