From the Top Shelf - Disciplinary Tales

Do you enjoy spanking fiction? I suspect you do.  There are many spanking fiction blogs out there in the blogosphere. But did you know that there's a whole Spanking Library that's chock full of tales about red bottoms?  You'll have to join to read the stories, but that's a painless process. (How often do you hear that around here?) You'll find hundreds of stories by a variety of authors.

Rollin is one of the contributors to Spanking Library, and he also has a popular blog called Disciplinary Tales, with more great stories.

With his permission, I am posting an excerpt from one of his recent tales, It's All for Charity. The first part of the story recounts an event that happened in 1957. A group of women decided to pose in bikinis for a calendar they hoped to sell, to raise money for a good cause. They thought their husbands wouldn't mind, but they were oh, so wrong. One of the wives tells what happened next:

"A couple of weeks after the calendar came out and we were all feeling very satisfied with ourselves, the boys proposed a pool party for the four of us who were really good friends, and had led the way on this project. Selma had a back yard swimming pool and the husbands suggested a barbeque to celebrate. I mean we were getting noticed all over town and the calendar was selling out. At the pool party the husbands all insisted that we wear those brief bikinis and we all agreed. We were all so proud of our figures.

"Things started out ok and we all ate and drank and were having a good time. We were displaying our charms in those bikinis and the booze was sort of flowing so we were dancing around, having a good time. Then, rather abruptly, somebody turned off the music and we found four very sober looking husbands arrayed in a line between us and the house. Mary Beth’s husband was a pastor and he started out. He said he spoke for all of them and they were very disappointed in our behavior. He said it was scandalous that we had posed in the very swimsuits we were wearing, that it was sinful and immodest. Then the others chimed in. Selma’s husband reminded her that he had forbidden her to buy one of those suits; Hank said the same thing and reminded me what he had promised. Then Fran’s husband Jim asked her if she remembered what he said would happen if he caught her wearing a bikini. When I saw her put her hands on her seat in a protective gesture, I got a sense of what was coming.

"Pastor Mike put his hands on his hips and told us that such sin should not go unpunished, that we wives had disobeyed our husbands and must be prepared to accept the consequences. He sat down in a chair that had been dragged out and told his wife, ‘Mary Beth Simons, come here.’ I guessed that this had happened before because she obeyed and slowly came forward. When she got close we could hear her pleading, ‘No, no, please, not in front of everyone.’ But before our startled eyes, Pastor Mike grabbed her wrist and flipped Mary Beth over his knee. She struggled a bit and looked around frantically, hoping that the cavalry would ride in, I guess. She had a cute little rear end and it was jutting up provocatively over her husband’s lap awaiting his displeasure. Then he raised his palm and brought it down on Mary Beth’s bottom with a loud smack! She squealed loudly. A flurry of hard spanks followed, crisp smacks that rang out in the stillness of that suburban back yard. Mary Beth’s bottom was bouncing over Mike’s knee and his hand kept delivering smack after smack. We were gaping at this spectacle and failed to notice our own husbands approaching.

“Hank is a big man. He put an arm around my waist and lifted me up. He carried me over to a chair and sat down. The next thing I know I’m face down over his knee. And then honey, I got the first spanking of my adult life. I was squalling and kicking but he held me down and smacked my little hiney good and hard for several minutes. It was then I found out what the “sound” in sound spanking meant. I looked around and all us wives were in the same situation. Fran was bucking around trying to escape Jim who had her held down over his knee was spanking the daylights out of her behind. Selma’s husband had propped up a knee on the diving board and Selma was bent over it, arms and legs flailing while be belabored her shapely bottom. The husbands had plotted, and at Pastor Mike’s urging I’m sure, had decided on a group spanking right on the seats of our skimpy bikini bottoms. After a few minutes of hard and fast smacking of our tender fannies, they stood us back on our feet. We all hobbled around sputtering and rubbing our inflamed behinds. It was a sight.

“Well, that was it for the party. Hank hustled me out of there. I was so mad I didn’t say a word to Hank all the way home. When he got me home he told me to go get ready for bed. Now when he’d given me that awful spanking, I’d felt something underneath me growing, if you know what I mean. Well, I wasn’t about to get all lovey-dovey with Hank after that. In fact I told myself I was going home to mother, and I went up and threw a suitcase on the bed and started packing. Hank came in a few minutes later and asked me what did I think I was doing? And I told him. And he said ‘no, you’re not.’ I just lost it and said ‘try and stop me’.

"Then, I made a big mistake. I was so mad I picked up an ashtray and threw it right at him. It hit him in the head and his forehead started bleeding. All of a sudden I was sorry. Had I hurt him? But Hank just stood there calmly and wiped the blood with a tissue while I watched. Then he turned toward me with a look I had never seen before. There was pure angry determination on his face and he said, ‘come here, Helen.’ I was feeling very vulnerable now. I just had on a robe, because I hadn’t dressed yet. I started backing up, but Hank took a couple of quick steps and grabbed me. He tore the robe off. I was stark naked underneath.

"Hank sat down on the bed, and for the second time that night he put me over his knee. ‘Helen,’ he said, ‘this is long overdue’. Then he started to spank me again. This time though, it was on my bare fanny which was already sore from before. It really stung now and I shrieked like a banshee. He let loose with a barrage of smacks while I struggled and kicked, but he held me firmly. Then he’d ask, ‘are you going to disobey me again?’ Well the first time I said ‘go to hell’, and that earned me about twenty spanks hard and fast. Then he asked me again and I mumbled something. It wasn’t to his satisfaction because I got another hard flurry of spanks. By now my behind was really blazing, and I was finally feeling very sorry for myself. So the third time I think I apologized for flinging the ashtray. I really did feel bad about that---it was a heavy glass ashtray and it could have injured him. He said, ‘good, now we’re getting somewhere. This is for the swimsuit.’ And he laid on another dozen or so hard slow smacks, asking me in between each spank if I was ever going to disobey him again on something like that.

There's more, but you'll have to visit Disciplinary Tales to read it, and I promise, you won't be disappointed.