Tuesday, July 2, 2019

From the Top Shelf - The Wrestling Ladies, part 4

We are back with another chapter of Rollin Hand's "The Wrestling Ladies". Last week Bruce was at the wrestling ladies' party and witnessed a spanking given to one of the ladies by another. Now it's his turn.
For Bruce the moment of reckoning had arrived, and looking at Jen’s lean frame and sinewy musculature in broad daylight as she stretched to warm up, he wasn’t so cocksure any more. If he were honest with himself, he’d have to admit that he’d taken this challenge in a moment of unexpected bravado fueled by lust. What if he lost? He’d be over Lara’s lap getting his bottom spanked and then have to serve as their houseboy? What did that mean? A chill crept up his spine. Bruce broke into a cold sweat. What had he gotten himself into? His nervous reverie was broken by Lara, who stood in the center of that mat.

“Ok, Bruce, my boy. Time for the match.” She looked him up and down. “But, you’re still wearing street clothes. That just won’t do.” She shook her head side to side, grimacing at his attire, plainly inappropriate for engaging in a wrestling match. “Better strip down to your undies, Bruce, or these clothes are going to get torn.”

“My undies?” said Bruce.

“Yeah.” Lara gestured with her hand toward the observers around the ring. “C’mon, Bruce, they’re all wearing bikinis and swimming shorts. You won’t be much different.”

“Yes, I see. I suppose so,” said Bruce. All the same, he was going to have to strip to his underwear in front of these people. Gingerly he unbuckled his belt and stepped out of his pants, blushing all the time. He was wearing jockey shorts. They were purple and he caught a few subdued whistles along with some barely suppressed laughter. Bruce didn’t think his face could get any redder. He took off his shirt and socks. Now all he had on were the purple jockey shorts which displayed an embarrassing boner that had resulted from watching Gina take her strapping.

“Well, I see you enjoyed our little domestic discipline scene, Bruce,” said Lara with a barely suppressed laugh. She turned to the blonde flexing her biceps, getting ready. “Will that bother you Jen?”

She shook her head and gave Bruce a wide smile. “Not at all. Maybe I’ll find a use for it later.”

Lara stood between the pair. “Wrestlers ready?”

Lara crouched slightly, arms outstretched. Bruce emulated her stance. He really had no idea how to do this.

“Ok, go!” Lara dropped her arm as though starting a race, and got out of the way.
Jen came forward, shuffling her feet. Bruce backpedalled, unsure of what to do. Then she straightened up, putting her left foot forward. Bruce saw that as an opportunity and lurched at the blonde, thinking to grab her around the waist and take her down. To his surprise, Jen stepped into his charge, planted her right foot, and swept her right arm across his chest. With her arm acting as a lever, she threw Bruce backwards using her hip as a fulcrum. He landed flat on his back and Tawny/Jen promptly jumped on top of him, pinning his arms to his side and pressing her body against his. Bruce felt her breasts squishing into his chest, smelled her sweet scent. Her hot breath caressed his neck. He was pinned and powerless. The match had lasted all of 15 seconds.

Jen jumped up, extended her hand and grabbing Bruce by the wrist, pulled him to his feet. He realized now he’d never had a chance. The woman was a pro and knew exactly what she was doing. He didn’t. She stood there, arms folded, with a broad grin on her face.

“Well, Bruce, it looks like our Jen got the best of you yet again,” said Lara, striding over. “I think we have our houseboy for the day – and it’s spanking time.”

Everyone who was watching clapped and whistled as Lara took Bruce’s wrist and led him toward the chair she’d used for Gina’s spanking. Instinctively Bruce tried to jerk back, but Lara just reached up and tweaked his earlobe between her thumb and forefinger and led him along. He felt like he was once again ten years old and being led to his room for a shameful punishment by a determined mom.

“We’ll have none of that, Bruce. You are not getting away from momma and the spanking you have coming. Remember our bet?”

“Ow!” said Bruce, reaching for his ear and stumbling after the muscular woman.

She sat down in the chair and with a swift economy of movement flipped Bruce across her knees. He flailed around, waving his arms, his feet fluttering. Lara gripped his waist with left arm pulling him closer. The chair had a cross brace at the bottom and she put her right foot on it. This elevated Bruce’s hips so that his bottom was thrust into prominence. There was a moment of panic when he felt her fingers in the elastic of his briefs and he shouted, “No!” and put his hands behind, trying to stop her.

Lara merely swatted his hands away. “Now, Bruce, you naughty boy. Let’s have none of that. The bet was a bare butt spanking, and that’s what you have coming, so get those hands out of the way.” But Bruce was beyond listening and kept putting his hands in the way. Lara’s response was to grasp his left arm and grip it in a hammer lock high on his back. With her right hand she finished the job of skinning down Bruce’s underwear until it came to rest in his knee hollows.

Bruce squirmed shamefully, his bare ass on rude display. Lara patted the exposed flesh, testing the resilience. Bruce felt his erection rising as his penis rubbed against Lara’s thigh.

“You have a first class tight little boy butt, Bruce. It will be a pleasure to spank it. Are you ready?”

Bruce gurgled something unintelligible. Lara had opened her legs and had clamped Bruce’s erection between her muscular thighs. He felt a sudden surge of pleasure as she rubbed her legs together.

“Oh, that’s naughty, Bruce. I can feel you,” she said in a sing-song voice. “Ok, here we go.” Suddenly she was all business.

Smack! That first stinging crack landed square across both cheeks. Bruce’s eyes flew wide open at the shock of that first hard blow.

Smack! Crack! Whap! Lara administered three hard shots, right left and center.

“Owww!” howled Bruce. Wow! That really stung! He renewed the leg fluttering.

Lara settled into a tempo, delivering hard ringing smacks to alternate sides of Bruce’s bottom cheeks. He squirmed around, but Lara had him in a vice grip. To the spectators it looked almost comical – the fully grown young man bouncing and humping over the muscular woman’s knees while she paddled his wriggling fanny like he was a little boy. The sound of palm striking bare flesh was like sharp pops that echoed off the walls of the house. She kept at it relentlessly, not missing a beat. The color of Bruce’s bottom cheeks turned first to pink and then, as the spanking continued unabated, a cherry red.

Bruce gasped at the unbelievable stinging sensation. It was as if someone had lit a fire. He felt absolutely helpless. The shame alone was mortifying, but now he had to contend with the fact that it hurt! He absolutely didn’t want to cry in front of all these people, but it was getting harder to hold back the tears. He felt his eyes watering. The pain was overwhelming. He knew it wasn’t injuring him in any way, but dammit! This stung worse than anything – a thousand bees could not be worse.


The wrestling girls smiled. They’d seen it all before. Lara could spank. She loved to spank. Something in her makeup. And she didn’t care if it were a man or a woman, although there was something about bringing a man to tears that seemed particularly satisfying to her. She was almost artistic about it. She varied the tempo, sometimes using rapid fire slaps with lots of wrist action, sometimes slowing down to deliver full arm sonorous smacks that flattened the spankee’s bottom on impact. Not many subjects escaped one of Lara’s spankings without breaking down completely and bawling. They all knew from experience. They’d all been there. It was her club, her house and she had appointed herself chief disciplinarian. So it was play by her rules or leave. Most had decided it was a small price to pay for living in luxury.

“When I give a spanking, Bruce, I don’t stop until I see a red hot fanny, and some salty tears,” she said, bringing her palm down with a wrist snapping motion. “Yours is just about there.”

Bruce didn’t hear. He was beyond hearing anything and was nearing the breaking point. His choked cries and protests signaled he was at the end of his rope. His bottom was a flaming red. Each new spank would be excruciating, they knew.

Finally, Bruce stopped squirming and collapsed in a limp heap over her knees.
“Ahhh….wahhh,” he wailed, his tears soaking the ground.

Lara stopped. “There,” she said patting the boyish cheeks she’d just spanked to a vermilion red. “Now you can get up.”

She hauled him to his feet. Bruce was oblivious to the state of his nudity. He bent over and gripped his flaming buns, rubbing, hissing in pain all the while, his semi-erect penis flopping around.

“I’ll bet your momma never spanked you that good, did she Bruce?” said Lara, chuckling at her own handiwork. She’d given him a good one. They could all attest to that.
That was a good one for sure! Next week, we'll find out how well Bruce performs as houseboy for the day.
From Hermione's Heart


Roz said...

This was a great instalment Hermione. Bruce seems to have gotten himself in a pickle. I wonder what being houseboy for a day will entail? Looking forward to reading more:)


ronnie said...


Thanks for continuing this story, I almost feel sorry for Bruce. Looking forward to reading more.