A Chain of Error

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A Chain of Error

A common characteristic of many man-made calamities is a chain of human decisions, actions, or inactions that lead to the final disaster.   Each “link in the chain” is actually a missed opportunity for someone to stop the march towards disaster.

Take for example an ill-fated twin engine aircraft: 

(Link 1) The mechanic adds oil to the right engine, but fails to tighten the oil cap.

(Link 2) The pilot trusts the mechanic, and so neglects to make a proper preflight check.  Therefore the defect goes undetected.

(Link 3) Shortly after takeoff, oil spews from the engine causing engine failure.  The surprised and panicked pilot pulls the wrong control.  Rather than secure the stricken right engine, he has killed the perfectly good left engine rendering the plane powerless. 

The crash happens moments later.

Note that there were three opportunities to prevent this disaster; all three missed.

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Following a notorious on-air incident, WKRP-TV paid a huge fine and nearly lost it’s broadcasting license.  In detailing the cause of the incident, The Federal Communications Commission (FCC) investigation report used the term “a chain of error”.

(Link 1) Against his better judgement, Albert Loveland, the General Manager of WKRP-TV hires the buxom, pretty, but untalented Jenny Rich as a news personality.  This event is explained by the simple fact that Jenny’s father owns WKRP-TV.  Mr. Rich mollifies Mr. Loveland with a new video van.

(Link 2) Since the new video van requires a driver/camera operator, Jenny connives to have Titan Johnson hired.  She fails to mention that Titan is her boyfriend, so Mr. Loveland is unaware of this important detail.

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Even though he owns the station, Mr. Rich is unsuccessful in convincing his General Manager to assign major news stories to his daughter.  Her centerfold body, her pretty face, and her “come hither” smile combine to make her popular with male viewers, but she has a squeaky voice and tends to flub her lines. So Jenny, her van, and her driver/operator are relegated to traffic reports and minor “color” news stories. 

The fateful day started as normal:

Twenty minutes before the start of the afternoon news, Jenny and Titan park on a major highway overpass where Jenny will give a traffic report in each of the two segments of the afternoon news.  Titan raises the microwave dish and establishes a video link with the studio.  Due to inclement weather, Jenny must give her report from a chair in the rear of the van.  Titan has already set up the camera inside the van, so all is ready. 

As it turns out, the waiting will be longer than usual today, because a “breaking story” has pre-empted Jenny’s first traffic report.  Now there will be a 30-minute wait until the second news segment. 

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(Link 3)  Showing commendable caution, Titan throws a towel over the camera to keep it from transmitting the little games he and Jenny play in the privacy of the van when gifted with idle moments.  Jenny gets a cheap thrill from not wearing panties whilst on TV, so that’s one less barrier for Titan.  Titan need only raise Jenny’s skirt above her tiny waistline to access his favorite anatomical parts of his willing girlfriend.  Their little petting session quickly morphs into a “slap & tickle” session, which devolves into a fun spanking game.  The chair comes in handy.  All goes well until, unnoticed,  one of Jenny’s long flailing legs kicks the towel off the camera.

(Link 4) Properly concerned about signal loss due to the rain, the microwave operator back at the TV studio picks this moment to check the video from the van.  Naturally, he is delighted and captivated by the unexpected yet kinetic view of Jenny’s beautiful bare bottom, so he watches the show rather than killing the link as he should have done.  By remote control, he turns on the microphone so he can hear the action.

(Link 5) None of this would have been a problem, had not the video board operator been slightly  dyslexic.  Intending to run a 60-second political ad, which was to come from source “01",  he unfortunately keys in “10", the address of the new video van.  The TV viewers in the entire metropolitan area find themselves watching Titan spank Jenny’s shapely but rapidly-reddening bottom.  In Titan’s defense, most of the thousands of observers agree that it wasn’t really a serious spanking.  Jenny’s squeals were interspersed with laughter.  However, a few hundred killjoys  complain to the FCC.

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Although the video board operator’s mistake was corrected after a few seconds of bedlam in the studio, the genie was thoroughly out of the bottle.  Thousands had been recording the afternoon news for later viewing.  Within hours, that footage of Jenny’s fun spanking was a worldwide Internet viral hit.  Proving that there is no such thing as bad publicity, WKRP-TV’s ratings soared.  That happy result seemed to get them in even more trouble with the FCC.  After all, this was no simple “wardrobe malfunction”!

Naturally, the government bureaucrats had to be satisfied, so somebody had to be sacrificed.  Unfairly, it was the person who never wanted to hire Jenny in the first place.  Yes, Mr. Rich fired  Albert Loveland.

Obviously, this created a vacancy at WKRP-TV.  With gorgeous and popular Jenny newly installed as the news anchor, the station was so successful that an idiot could run it.  So in a bit of strange nepotistic logic, Mr, Rich felt confident in selecting his new son-in-law, Titan Johnson, as the station’s new General Manager.  Miraculously, Titan had finally found his slot in life.  Under his care, WKRP-TV thrived.

Titan’s first order of business was to soundproof his new office, where the young couple would sometimes disappear for hours at a time.  What happened inside the office was hardly a mystery however.  Like many things at WKRP-TV, that soundproofing was far from perfect.

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The 8PM Peep Show

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The 8PM Peep Show

It was nearly 8 PM.  John crouched in the bushes in front of his neighbor’s house expectantly  peeking into the living room window.  This was the home of Bob Dover, his best friend and schoolmate.  John’s single mother worked late to make ends meet, so John often “hung out” at the Dover’s house, so John knew this room.  Inevitably, John had a crush on Bob’s older sister, Jan.  Similarly inevitable, Jan had no interest in a 13 year-old boy.  So any involvement with Jan was pure fantasy.  But momentarily, John hoped to see more of Jan than ever before!

John liked to think of himself as a detective, a phantom, an Indian scout, anything other than the reality.  In reality, he was just a pitiful little kid guiltily peeping on his friends most private and embarrassing moments. 

The Dover kids were secretive about their spankings, so it had taken months to discover the basic details.  John hadn’t been spanked since his parent’s divorce five years ago, but was strangely fascinated by the subject.  So he fed Bob stories of imagined spankings to trick him into describing his own spankings.  Finally, he successfully pieced together the Dover family punishment procedure, and had even peeked in on two of Bob’s spankings.

 He learned that the Dovers called them “bedtime spankings” but they actually happen in the living room in front of the family.  And they always happen around 8 PM.

He also knew that the Dovers lived by that old rule, “ Spanked at school, spanked at home.” Since everybody knew that Jan had been paddled for smoking in the girl’s room today, she was sure to also “get it” at home...tonight...at 8 PM.

So now you know why John was hiding in the bushes.

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The empty armless chair looked out of place sitting directly in front of the couch.  From previous nights, John knew its purpose.  John’s friend Bob, sat on the couch next to his mother.  They both had a certain concerned & expectant look on their faces that the boy had seen before.  Jan stood nervously in the middle of the room.  Her stricken look confirmed that the chair was there for her. The father walked purposely into the room.

Peeping through the gap at the edge of the closed window shade, the boy felt safe.  The shade had obviously been closed for privacy while the parents dealt with Jan; but it was a double-edged sword because the same shade hid the face of the young lurker from those inside.  Moreover, that closed shade on the front window acted as a signal flag to John.  Although John often knew when Bob or Jan were “in trouble”, those living room shades were always lowered when a spanking was imminent.  Of course, spankings in the Dover household were not a regular event, but they happened often enough that the boy learned to watch that window shade every evening!

In his hiding place the boy felt invisible.  Besides that wonderful window shade, a low shrub hid him from the sidewalk and a spreading tree in the Dover’s front yard threw the area into shadow.  Since he had figured out the Dover’s secret, he had narrowly missed seeing Jan get spanked once, but had twice seen Bob spanked; once with a hairbrush.  Today would be the first time for him to see Jan “get it”.
  
At 13, John had probably never heard the word “voyeur”.  If he had, he was certainly too young to understand the word’s full adult context.  He was also too young to understand why the mere thought of a spanking caused him to get an erection, but he was plenty old enough to know why seeing a “hot” girl like Jan get her bare bottom spanked was more interesting than seeing the same happen to Bob.  

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In the Dover living room, the domestic drama unfolded before the apprentice voyeur.  Momentarily ignoring the armless chair, the father sat on the couch next to his wife.  Now Jan faced her entire family. 

Partly because of the double-glazed windows, and partly because Jan and Bob’s parents seldom raised their voices, the boy could hear little of the conversation.  From spying on Bob’s previous two spankings he knew a bit about the Dover’s spanking procedure, and assumed it would apply to Jan also.

As John expected, the parents had a discussion with Jan that continued for several minutes.  Surprisingly, this particular discussion took longer than usual.  Against all odds, Jan seemed to be defending herself, perhaps arguing for a reprieve, or at least for some lesser punishment.  He could see that Jan’s parents were far more patient than his mother would have been, never yelling, and always letting their children “speak their piece” before passing final judgment.  That said, he could also see determination in their eyes.  Jan and Bob’s parents were no pushovers!

From Jan’s body language, it was clear when she finally acknowledged defeat.  She sagged a bit and her face collapsed.  Spontaneously, perhaps to show that there were no hard feelings, the wet-faced girl bent over to tearfully hug her parents.  That done, she stood before them with a new dignity, obviously resigned to her fate.  At a word from her father, the girl’s hands nervously fluttered down to her tiny waist.  She unhooked her wide belt, and then fumbled with the button on her jeans.  

Outside, John felt a sudden pressure in his groin.

Because the girl was still facing her family, who were all seated on the couch, John only had a rear view as her jeans descended.  Removing them wasn’t simple!  Her jeans were tight, so she had to wriggle her way out of them.

As the jeans finally unmasked Jan’s hips, the boy’s heart rate accelerated and his half-mast erection became painfully rigid.  He saw her naked bottom! No panties? 

Jan had made a nervous error.  When she finally got her jeans bunched around her ankles, they wouldn’t go past her shoes, which she had forgotten to first remove.  Flustered, she shuffled to the still-empty armless chair and sat down momentarily to untie and remove her shoes, and to finally extract her feet from her jeans. 

When Jan stood to lay her jeans and shoes on the coffee table, John finally figured out (to his disappointment) that Jan was indeed wearing panties.  Their flesh color and their sheerness, had fooled him, allowing Jan’s firm bottom flesh to shine through the fabric.  From the front view, he saw that the material joined in a “V” at the front, making that part disappointingly opaque.

Facing the window, and unknowingly displaying herself to John, Jan crossed her hands in front and tugged up on her shirt.  Actually that shirt was too short to interfere with her spanking, but John clearly recognized this as part of the Dover’s spanking procedure.  As her arms went over her head, John managed a clear enough view of her groin to make out the cleft of her sex.  His heart rate redoubled.  The shirt joined the pile of clothing on the coffee table.  Jan now wore only bra and panties. 

In response to a pain in his groin, the boy reached down to rearrange himself.  Absently, his hand remained there, massaging the hardness.

Again Jan turned to face her family.  From previous observations, the boy knew that this was the point were the parents would have their final say before the actual spanking.  But this was also the point where they had once sent Bob to fetch the hairbrush for use on his own bare bottom!  The boy held his breath.  He didn’t wish Jan bad luck, but he was totally hooked by the drama.  Would she get the hairbrush? 

The rear view of Jan was spectacular!  Where her panties stretched over her buttocks, the material became impossibly sheer, seemingly stretched to the max..  The material had just enough substance to make her nether cleft a mysterious foggy canyon.  Were the panties molding her bottom or was her bottom molding her panties?   He hoped to find out soon!  Bob’s underpants had always come completely off for his spankings; so John hoped that the rule would also apply to Jan.   

It was this moment, when John’s mind was totally consumed with Jan’s body, her panties, and the hairbrush, that a car turned from a driveway across the road.  Its headlights silhouetted the outline of John’s head on the translucent shade.  Mr. Dover saw the head-shaped shadow on the shade, but had the presence of mind not to react. 

Continuing the Dover procedure, Father pointed Jan towards the master bedroom, where that special hairbrush waited.  Jan reacted tearfully, but obediently went to fetch it.

With Jan gone, Father whispered a few words into his wife’s ear, sidled beyond the window’s viewing angle and disappeared. 

Meanwhile, Mrs. Dover moved purposely to the spanking chair.  When Jan reentered the room, she went to her mother and reluctantly handed her the hairbrush.  Although both Bob and Jan were temporarily mystified, Mother created a masterful delaying act. 

Mrs. Dover first accepted the hairbrush, and then tucked it behind her.  Then with Jan standing directly in front of her, she reached out and tucked her thumbs into the elastic of her daughter’s panties.  Surprisingly, the panties stayed up... mostly.  Mrs Dover delayed by looking Jan in the eye and restarting a conversation about the dangers of smoking.   As she talked, her thumbs worked, but the panties never lowered enough to show more than the top of Jan’s nether crack.

Finally, there was a rap on the window.  Bob jumped in surprise, but Mrs Dover seemed to expect the signal.  Without further delay, she whisked Jan’s panties to the floor and held them so she could step out.  She guided the puzzled girl across her lap, and started her punishment with a vigorous hand spanking.   

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John, of course, had been caught red handed by Mr. Dover.  Mr. Dover grabbed a handful of the lurking boy’s shirt, and instantly recognized John.   Fortunately for him, John had kept his pants zipped, but Mr. Dover made note of his tumescence.   As he yanked the boy out from behind the bushes, Mr. Dover rapped on the window, the sign for Jan’s punishment to proceed.

John begged to be released, and struggled a bit, but had no chance against Mr. Dover.  He pushed the boy through the back door, and sat him down at the kitchen table.  By now the sounds of Jan’s spanking echoed through the house, but John was too panicked to notice. 

Mr. Dover phoned John’s mother, who was naturally appalled at her son’s behavior and shocked because she thought he was studying in his bedroom.  Moments later, she knocked on the back door.  Entering the house, her eyes widened at the sounds of Jan’s spanking.  

When she saw her son, she forgot the spanking to zero in on him.  She yelled, “What have you done!  Are you turning into a pervert?  You’re supposed to be in your bedroom young man!  How often have you been sneaking out of the house?  That spanking I hear gives me ideas about what to do with you!”

Not given a chance to respond to anything his mother yelled at him, the boy visibly recoiled.  His mother often yelled at him, and often threatened spankings, but never delivered.  Mr. Dover interceded in a calming voice, “Let’s sit down and allow John to explain himself.”

“I’m sorry” John sobbed, “But there’s no explanation.  I guess I am just a pervert.”

“No John” Mr. Dover said, “You’re no pervert.  Curiosity is normal, and it’s certainly normal for a boy like you to be interested in girls.  But just like you see things in the store that you want, but you know not to shoplift, you’re old enough to know that it’s wrong to violate somebody’s privacy.”

The spanking in the living room seemed to end.  John’s mother looked questioningly at Mr. Dover.  “She got caught smoking in school” he explained, “This is just a pause, The hairbrush is next.”

Briefly, they questioned John.  When they ascertained that this was the third time he had peeked on a spanking, his mother sobbed, “I just don’t know what to do with him.”

“I think I do,  Mr. Dover replied, “Let’s talk outside.”

John sat there with butterflies in his stomach.   He could guess what Mr. Dover might suggest to his mother.  He didn’t really think that his mother would ever spank him; but the Dovers?  Perhaps!  He feared the possibility of being spanked in the Dover’s living room, but a perverse part of him prayed for it to happen.

He strained to hear the conversation happening outside the rear door, but new sounds from the living room interceded; “No Mom.  Mom No!  Not the hairbrush!”

Then he heard the “crack” of hairbrush colliding with bare feminine buttock as Jan’s paddling started in earnest.   Jan shrieked pitifully as the brush did its memorable work .  To John (and certainly to Jan) the paddling seemed to take forever, but actually it was over quickly.  It left Jan bawling, and with a bottom that would hurt for several days. 

Moments later John’s mother and Mr. Dover returned.  From the looks on their faces, John immediately guessed his fate. 

“OK John” Mr. Dover said “You get what you just heard Jan get.  It happens just as soon as we get Jan calmed down and get her in a robe.”

“And perhaps not for the last time either.” his mother added.

He pictured himself naked across Mrs. Dover’s lap, with Bob and Jan watching him kick and bawl as his bottom was spanked bright red.

Tears sprang to John’s eyes.  He shook with fear and mortification. 

But part of him couldn’t wait. 

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Icarus Vicarious

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                                                     Icarus Vicarious  


Tim was only 16, but had been flying gliders alone since 14.  Lean, adventurous, and flush with male hormones, he was in the prime of his teens.  Still, sex remained something he enjoyed mainly as a vicarious fantasy.  You see, Tim knew he was different, yet was clueless how to deal with that difference.  Oh he liked the girls at school, and they liked him better than he knew, but how do you explain to a girl that more than anything you wish to spank her round, bare bottom? 

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The glider, a Schleicher Ka8, belonged to his soaring club.  It was a single seat training glider, made of a curious combination of stout timber and drum-tight fabric.  After giving his little aircraft a pre-flight inspection, he climbed in & belted up.  Impatient, he waited on the green turf runway.  In a ritual as old as aviation, he intoned his pre-flight checklist as he tested each control: “Belt, Elevator, Aileron, Rudder, Canopy closed, Altimeter set, Trim set, Spoilers closed”.

The glider was older than Tim, and likely infinitely more reliable.  When asked about the glider’s age, his instructor had joked, “Don’t worry.  It’s wooden.  You can trust a tree”.  All the same, Tim wore the required parachute.  He hoped to never use it! 

He gave the lineman a “thumbs up”.  After giving the glider a once-over, a helper connected the thin winch rope to the glider’s tow hook.  The helper stepped back, walked to the left wing, and checked that the runway was clear.    He nodded to Tim, who gave him a second “thumbs up”.  The helper reached down, and lifted the wingtip, holding the glider level.         

Tim took a firm hold of the control stick, took a deep breath, and then tapped the pedals to fan the rudder back and forth.  That was the signal to the winch operator, “ready for launch”.

The winch had a huge drum full of special plastic rope connected to a wheezy but strong truck engine.  The operator gunned the engine and threw a lever, which started the drum turning furiously.  Tim’s head snapped back as the rope accelerated his glider down the placid runway.

At first the glider balanced on its single wheel as it gained speed, but then Tim pulled back on the control stick, launching him and the glider on an exhilarating uphill ride into the blue sky.

On his way up, Tim kept his eyes open and his brain in gear.  He had been taught to always expect an emergency, usually a broken winch rope.  Should it happen near the ground, he must lower the glider’s nose and land straight ahead.  If at a medium altitude, he would fly straight ahead before suddenly hooking back to land where he had started.  A higher altitude would allow a more leisurely circuit of the field, followed by a normal landing.  There were no firm rules to guide his decision, all depended on today’s conditions.

Fortunately, the rope didn’t break today.  When he was almost over the winch, he leveled the glider, and pulled the release lever.  There was a “THUNK” sound, as the glider’s last connection to mother earth popped loose and fluttered down under a tiny parachute.  Nearly a kilometer high, Tim soared free of all things earthly.

Once there, Tim’s hormones took control.  He had noticed something on his last flight.  He hadn’t mentioned his discovery to anyone else, but he hoped to see more today.

He flew away from the airport, gradually losing altitude as he passed two grassy pastures.  Then his sharp young eyes spotted what he needed next.  Over a dark plowed field, he saw a flock of circling birds.  They weren’t flapping!  By the time he got there, he was several hundred feet lower than the birds.  Skillfully centering himself under the flock, and slowing to the glider’s best climb speed of 32 knots, he circled, slowly gaining altitude in the same column of rising hot air that supported the birds. 

As he climbed higher and higher, the birds finally took notice.  Looking contemptuously over their shoulders at this human interloper, they flipped their wings and peeled away.  Now high enough to glide a considerable distance, Tim flew towards his next goal, a certain farmhouse, behind which he had seen a shapely female sunbathing on his last flight!

Approaching the farmhouse, Tim spotted the white blanket that the girl had been laying on before.  Near the blanket a box threw a shadow.  Perhaps it was a picnic basket or cooler? 

 He fondly remembered the girl, long red hair, shapely body, swelling hips.  Last time, she had been wearing a very brief blue bottom, and no discernable top.  Today the girl was...gone.  “Dammit!”  Tim felt a huge letdown as he realized the blanket was unoccupied.  Still, the fact that it was still there gave him hope.  Perhaps she had just popped into the house for a moment?

No!  Wait!  As he flew closer, his eagle eyes picked out a splash of blue in the middle of the white blanket.  It couldn’t be... Could it?  He finally decided it was!  It was her pants, without her in them!  Hormones bubbling furiously, Tim glided on towards the house.

With a new urgency, the boy scanned the yard.  As he overflew the house and gained a new angle, he made out a sight that would inspire his masturbatory fantasies for years to come.  Seated on something, perhaps a stump, was a man.  Stretched across the man’s lap was...the girl!  She appeared to be nude.  His arm moved purposely, his purpose unmistakable.

Quickly pulling back on the stick, Tim slowed the glider to minimum sink speed.  Carefully coordinating the controls to keep the yaw string centered, he rolled the glider into a tight spiral.  Circling like a raptor, he could enjoy the corporal action from all possible angles. 

To anyone on the ground, the glider was totally silent, stealthy.  However, it was different for Tim.  He barely needed to peek at his airspeed indicator because the sound of air whistling past his canopy told him his speed.  The old airframe also spoke to him with squeaks and thumps.  If  he allowed the airspeed to get too slow, it would vibrate in warning.  If he ignored that warning, the glider would stall, its nose seemingly eager to mate with the earth.

He couldn’t tell the age of the man.  His hair was grey, or possibly blond.  Her father?  Grandfather? Lover?  Tim would never know.  Obviously, this was no play spanking!.  Her legs kicked, her bottom colored, her red hair tossed, her bottom bucked.  He saw her hand sneak back to protect her bottom, but he intercepted it, tucking it behind her. 

The spanking continued. 

Tim was now flying with two sticks between his thighs.  One was the glider’s control stick, the other was part of Tim himself!

Thankfully, Tim had enough altitude to linger for several minutes.  As his efficient but engineless glider circled, it gradually descended.  As it descended, Tim’s view continually improved.  The more her globes colored, the more beautiful they became.  Tim was totally entranced.  His mind on those buttocks, he flew the plane automatically, without conscious thought.

Finally the man stopped spanking her.  He held her on his lap for a few moments, and then apparently released her.  She rolled off his lap into the grass.  Sprawled on her back, (which must have hurt her livid bottom) Tim could see breasts and a fetching patch of red hair. 

Looking at the sky unfocused, the girl caught a movement.  Her mouth formed into an “O” when she realized what it was.  Just then, Tim thought to look at his altimeter.  His mouth formed into an “O”.  He was at 500 feet and descending!  If he didn’t find lift fast, it would mean an embarrassing forced landing. 

Quickly forming a plan, he rolled the glider level and flew back towards the plowed field that had been his benefactor earlier.  If he didn’t find lift there, he would make an impromptu landing in the grassy meadow beyond.  There was little danger to Tim or the glider, but the club would have to truck the glider back to the airport.  That incident would make Tim the butt of jokes until the next club member inevitably made the same mistake.

Perspiring, and with the girl temporarily forgotten, Tim accelerated to an efficient speed and watched for any sign of lift.  He was less than 200 feet high, and ready to give up and concentrate on landing when his cringing bottomcheeks finally felt an upward push.  Thankful, he slowed and circled, allowing the upward push of the “thermal” to thrust his glider back up high.  It was “touch & go” for awhile, but Tim and his glider finally climbed up into the azure sky. 

Once again high and safe, he was tempted to return to try to spy on her again, but he thought of the girl.  If he never returned, she might convince herself that the glider had just innocently flown over, and that nobody had really witnessed her disgrace. 

So he made the manly, sacrificial decision.

With the image of that spanked girl safely stored away in his brain where it would harmlessly nourish and fuel a lifetime of spanking fantasies, a much richer young man aimed his glider back towards the airport and towards the rest of his life.

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Clint and the Empty Chair

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                                                    Clint and the Empty Chair


A bit of explanation: At a 2012 political event, Clint Eastwood gave a rather rambling "talk to an empty chair" that had folks on both sides of the political aisle smiling and scratching their heads. I thought Clint resembled a slightly scatterbrained but loveable old man ranting at his wife, so this story was born.

Old Clint Westwood addressed the empty chair sitting in the middle of his bedroom, “I know what you’re thinking Barbara.  You’re thinking, ‘That cataract-challenged old man can’t even read that credit card bill.’  If that didn’t work, you probably figured you would just delay your comeuppance until the old man forgot.  Failing that, you probably think you’re smart enough to talk this addled old coot out of paddling you.”

Actually Barbara, Clint’s wife, had thought all three of those thoughts, one just seconds ago.   Now she finally knew for sure why she was in trouble, and why Clint had sent her to the bedroom to “prepare”.  Her bubble thoroughly busted, Barbara wisely opted for silence.

“Change” he bellowed, “You promised change.  We’re not rich enough to continually go around hot dogging it.  Times are hard, so you promised me that you would change your ‘high-maintenance’ ways.  But our credit card bill looks like the national debt.  This is a disgrace Barbara, a true disgrace!”

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Given that Barbara was a shapely and nubile lady who had married a moderately wealthy man nearly twice her age, most people automatically dismissed her as a “gold-digger”, a floozy out to inherit a lifetime meal ticket.  If you were to know her though, you would know that she was wholeheartedly in love with her man. 

Oh yes, before marriage they had frank discussions about her “bedroom needs,” and together they had figured out how to manage them quite well.  Clint still had occasional teenager-like erections.  They tended to be brief, so the two had learned to  “strike while the iron is hot”.  Since this usually happened first thing in the morning when they were still both nude in bed, there was little inconvenience.  If they wished sex on a more premeditated basis, there were always those purple pills in the medicine cabinet.   Even when his body wasn’t totally willing, Clint found ways to satisfy his wife.  His fingers and tongue still worked perfectly well, and he knew dozens of tricks with a vibrator! 

Good as all those things were, they paled next to the thrill of that certain bedroom activity that had brought them together; spanking.  Clint had cherished his first wife, even though she was an incurable vanilla.  When he finally got over her death and started again to desire female companionship, he had one inflexible criteria; his new mate would be a spanko.  He had found Barbara on the Internet after a long search.  She had turned out to be all he ever wanted, and more woman than he ever expected to attract.

As fun and as satisfying as their erotic spankings were, there was a reckless thrill-seeking part of Barbara that sometimes caused her to risk the very real possibility of receiving a memorable punishment paddling from her man.  Today’s “trip to the woodshed” was a result of one of those times.  Her punishment spankings were an overt part of their prenuptial contract, but something she had eagerly agreed to. 

So Barbara had purposely put herself at risk just for the thrill of it.  Usually, she got away with it, but today her bottom would pay the price.  Deep down in her belly, she felt a frisson of fear; but it was fear laced with excitement and sexual arousal.  Her man was about to “take her in hand”.        

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“OK” Clint said, “So now I’m about to paddle your beautiful bottom until it glows.  Stick it up in the air for me.”

He squinted at the chair, but it wasn’t that famously flinty squint of that movie star named Clint.  No!  This was the slightly befuddled squint of a man who could barely see. 

Clint jumped when her voice came from behind him, rather than from the chair, “You sweet, half-blind, loveable old coot.  I’m not kneeling on that chair, I’m here in the corner where you told me to be.  I put the chair where you told me to put it, and I’m here naked in the corner just like to told me to be. Turn on the lights.  You know you need more than that nightlight to see.”

“Oh” he mumbled as he felt his way to the doorway and fumbled for the light switch.      

As she climbed up on the chair to present her still-firm bottom for the paddle, she remarked “This is getting ridiculous Clint.  Next week we’re seeing a doctor about your cataracts.”

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Clint was no hero of the silver screen, but today his image was easy for any passers-by to see, a shadowy profile projected through the couple’s translucent bedroom curtain.   It showed the chair with a feminine form kneeling on it, bottom stuck out saucily, and the outline of Clint masterfully swinging his paddle.  If one stood quietly on the sidewalk, there would not only be the moving picture, but sound; The crack of the paddle and Barbara’s voice coming through loud and clear.  “Ouch!  Ouch!  I’m sorry honey!  It won’t happen again.  Please stop!  Owwwww!”  

And of course Clint’s voice could also be heard, “Just run up the credit card bill any time you wish Barbara.  Go ahead honey, MAKE MY DAY”!

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Appointment for Contrition, Part 9

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© Guyspencer 2012

                                                Appointment for Contrition, Part 9

It was the Sunday after Dr. Lee’s had delivered his very first “Contrition Appointment” spanking,  Sister Gilbert had been the willing recipient.  Dr. Lee’s sermon had been well received, and the entire service had gone smoothly.  As usual, Dr. Lee stood at the door to shake hands and to greet congregation members as they departed.   Sister Gilbert and her husband hung back, last in line.  Dr. Lee noticed that they were holding hands, her face looked relaxed and happier than he had ever seen it.

When it finally came their turn, Brother Gilbert seized his hand and shook it energetically.  “Bless you for what you did for Glenda.  It’s been years since I’ve seen her so happy and relaxed.”  He looked around to see that nobody else was in earshot before continuing.  “There’s…errr, that other matter between myself and Glenda.”  Dr. Lee saw Sister Gilbert’s face tense just slightly as her husband continued, “Can we talk privately about that?”

A few minutes later, Dr. Lee escorted the couple to his private office.   As soon as the door closed, Sister Gilbert spoke up, “Henry thanked you, and now it’s my turn.  That spanking you gave me hurt, but it was worth it!  I’d been living with that guilt so long that I thought it was permanent.  Now it’s gone!  Since Henry is here to chaperone, I can do this…”  She pasted a kiss in the flustered young Pastor’s cheek followed by an energetic hug. 

Finally the Pastor got everyone sat down.  Although the Gilbert’s had been married long enough to have grown children, they were obviously still in love.  Before sitting, they had pulled their chairs together.  They sat holding hands.  Yet again, the Pastor longed for that type of physical and spiritual togetherness with a woman.  Swallowing his sexual frustration, Dr. Lee led the couple in prayer.  That done, he looked at them expectantly, wondering what this was about.

Brother Gilbert spoke first, but with a bit of a blush; “To be clear, Glenda and I have discussed what we’re about to ask of you and we both agree.  We both equally hope you will help us.”

Dr. Lee’s ears perked up.  He had no clue what was to follow, but expected something interesting.

Now it was Sister Gilbert’s turn to blush, “Just so you know, my bottom really hurt for a couple days after you…you know…spanked me.  There were some marks, but now they’re almost gone.  So it’s almost time for my…”  She couldn’t manage to finish the sentence, so she tried again, “I mean it’s almost time for Henry too…” She choked on the next word, but finally got it out “s-sp-spank me like he promised because I was so untruthful to him for so long.”

Dr. Lee was curious but didn’t trust himself to speak, so he just sat back with what he hoped was a look of polite detachment on his face.

There was a pause, but finally Brother Gilbert spoke up.  “You see, it’s been 25 years since the last time I…err…spanked Glenda.  Now I’m afraid I'm out of practice.  I don't want to harm her.”  He stopped, flustered, unable to continue.

Bravely, Sister Gilbert stepped into the breach.  “Pastor Lee, what we’re trying to say is that we would like to invite you to our house Thursday evening for supper…and a spanking… my spanking of course.”

Instantly the young Pastor’s heart rate doubled.  He paused, not trusting himself to speak.

Finally, carefully, he spoke, “You are both sure that this is truly what you want?  This is a very private matter between the two of you.  I wouldn’t want to intrude.”  Both looked straight in his eyes and nodded solemnly, hopefully,

 “Then how can I refuse?”

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Dr. Lee’s mouth was slightly dry as he rang the Gilbert’s doorbell at the appointed time.  The couple warmly greeted him, and then led him directly to their dining room.  They sat down at an elaborately set table.  Dr. Lee said the blessing, and then with a flourish Sister Gilbert brought out her masterpiece; pot roast.  The young Pastor groaned inwardly to himself.  Every time he was invited to supper at a parishioner’s home, the lady felt it necessary to serve her prize dish, and it always seemed to be pot roast!  He smiled weakly and ate with artificial relish.

As they ate, the three chatted, chatted about everything except the real purpose of the evening.  As the meal proceeded towards its inevitable conclusion, he noticed with interest a bit of sweat forming on Sister Gilbert’s upper lip.  Although she pretended otherwise, her imminent punishment was clearly on her mind.  He had been concerned about spanking her immediately after a meal, but noticed with relief that she only nibbled at her food.

It was Brother Gilbert who first mentioned the real reason Dr. Lee was there, and then only peripherally.  “I suggest we hold desert until later.  Why don’t we adjourn to the living room and let supper settle a bit before we move on to…errr…what we talked about Sunday.”  As he talked, Sister Gilbert blushed, it was an amazingly deep blush that started at her neck, went to her cheeks, and proceeded all the way to her ears.  Middle aged lady or not, that blush made her look innocent and ravishing.

The two men settled in the living room.  Sister Gilbert brought them coffee, and then nervously excused herself to clear the table.  By now, Brother Gilbert was also showing his nerves.  Dr. Lee noted that the drapes had been closed.  Apparently the spanking would happen right here.

Dr. Lee cleared his throat, “Brother Gilbert…”

“Call me Henry please,” he replied, “I suppose you’re wondering why we asked you here and what your role is to be?”

Dr. Lee relaxed, “Yes, exactly.”

“As I think you know Dr. Lee, I’m deeply in love with my wife.  She was untruthful to me for several years and must be punished for that, but hurting her will be very difficult for me.  My goal this evening is to give her a spanking at least as severe as the one you gave her, but I don’t want to risk injuring her.  I’m not totally unfamiliar with spanking; I have grown kids you know.”

“And you also mentioned something about spanking Glenda many years ago?”

Henry blushed, “Yes, but that was hardly ever for err…punishment.  These games were too noisy to play around children so we stopped them long ago.”

“There is no sin in loving sensuality between husband and wife, regardless what form it takes.” Dr. Lee soothed, “and it’s certainly nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Thanks for that,” Henry sighed, “The problem is, I just don’t know if I have the mental strength to hurt my wife.  I was thinking that if you would sort of ‘break the ice’ by starting her spanking, I think I might be able to take over and finish the job.  Then you would tell me when to stop so that I don’t stop too soon or too late.  Could you do that for us?”

Dr. Lee took a couple sips of coffee while he carefully considered his response.  “Suppose we do it this way.  I’ll spank one buttock and one thigh to what I consider is the perfect shade of red.  Then you take over, and just spank her until everything matches, but then there’s more...  Pause for a bit, and then give her five or six scorchers on each side of her bottom, those will be the ones that leave mild marks that she'll feel for the next few days.”

Henry gave a long sigh.  “It’ll be hard, but I’ll do my best.  It’s important that we do a good job so that Glenda and I can get this behind us and move on with our life together.”

“Then it’s agreed. “  

Just then Glenda came back into the room nervously wiping her sweaty hands in her apron.

With tears in his eyes, Henry stood to embrace his wife.   Glenda responded with a sob and a few tears of her own.  Dr. Lee stood to lead the couple in prayer, asking for wisdom and guidance for Henry and for acceptance and forgiveness for Glenda. 

Henry embraced his wife again, and told her how much he loved her.  Glenda responded in kind.  There was a long silence as they clung to each other.  Finally Henry ordered in a husky voice, “Go change as we discussed, and then bring us a dining room chair.”  Tearfully, Glenda left the room.

                                                                      ---------------

They waited several awkward minutes until the somber Glenda reappeared.  She was carrying an armless dining room chair, and was wearing the white translucent “truth” gown that she had just received from Sister March.  From all indications, she was wearing nothing under it.  Henry pointed to where he wanted the chair placed.  Then he led his wife to the couch, where he sat with her standing in front of him. 

The next few minutes were difficult for husband and wife, as Henry expressed his disappointment that his cherished wife had hidden the truth from him for so long.  “We can only truly be a team if there are no barriers between us,” he said, “and untruthfulness is certainly a barrier.”  He also talked about the opportunities lost from her years of unhappiness.  “Just facing the truth years ago could have made our lives so much better.”

Through her tears she agreed, and apologized profusely.

Finally they both fell into a long silence.  It was obviously time for the spanking, but neither seemed anxious to take the first step. 

Bravely, Dr. Lee stepped in, “Sister Gilbert, I think it would be appropriate for you to get down on your knees right where you are and say a prayer of Contrition.  Ask our God for forgiveness.”

Tears streaming down her cheeks, she dropped to her knees.  She said her prayer aloud.  Then, with a new light in her eyes, and a fresh determination, she spoke to her husband, “I’m forgiven and ready for my punishment now Henry.  Would you like me to remove my gown sir?”

Wordlessly, Henry stood and motioned for her to rise.  Then he took her into his arms.  As Dr. Lee watched, they embraced for one last time as Henry whispered something into her ear.  Glenda nodded, and then raised her arms.  Henry reached down for the hem of her gown, and whisked the garment off his wife.  She stood there naked. 

Henry pointed to the chair, “Dr. Lee, will you please sit there?”  To Glenda he explained, “Dr. Lee will start off your punishment, and then I will finish it.  He will also help me assure that you get the proper amount of spanking, not too much or too little.  Are you ready sweetheart?”

Wordlessly, she nodded.

Henry took Glenda by the arm and walked her to Dr. Lee, who was seated in the armless chair. 

Automatically, she laid herself across his lap. 

Dr. Lee adjusted Glenda’s mature, pure-white bottom into exactly the proper position, and then started spanking without further ceremony.  However, this spanking was different from any that he had ever delivered before!  He started with five hard swats to her left buttock only, and then after a slight delay, he resumed the spanking; to her left buttock only.  As Glenda was a full-figured lady, this still gave him significant territory on which to demonstrate his considerable spanking skill.  He had positioned her well out on his lap so that no part of that quickly-reddening mound was protected by his stomach.  

Henry watched with an odd mixture of sadness and prurient interest as his wife writhed under the corporal attentions of his young Pastor.  As the spanking progressed, gradually the sadness dissipated, to be replaced by wonder and vague guilt at his growing arousal.  It even occurred to him to wonder if Dr. Lee was aroused.  Charitably, he finally came to the inevitable conclusion; “There’s a naked lady doing a horizontal jitterbug over the man’s groin; how could he not be aroused?”    Regardless of his Pastor’s erectile state, he fully trusted the young man to act in a moral and professional manner.

While Glenda knew that she couldn’t possibly take her punishment without noise or struggle, she firmly believed that she deserved and needed this spanking, so she had resolved to hold out as long as possible under this onslaught of sting, pain and emotion.   As it turned out her resolve didn’t last long.  She as totally unprepared for the uncomfortable effects of Dr. Lee’s one-sided spanking.  Somehow, the contrast between her rapidly reddening left side and her untouched right side made the spanking seem much worse.  She twisted, kicked, and squirmed, as her entreaties gradually became more and more shrill. 

Dr. Lee stopped, and talked quietly to the sobbing lady to give her a chance to catch her breath, and to remind her of the reason for her punishment.  When he decided that he again had her full attention, he resumed the spanking, but this time he spanked her left thigh.  She shrieked her appreciation and kicked with a new vigor. 

After twice revisiting Glenda’s left buttock and alternating with that left thigh, Dr. Lee finally decided that his part in this punishment was over.  He allowed the lady to calm a bit, and helped her to her feet, standing himself so that Henry could take his place.  Her hands automatically went to her bottom, but Dr. Lee gently but firmly removed them.  He steadied her until her husband’s lap was ready, and then guided her into place.  Henry wasted no time resuming Glenda’s punishment.

Watching Henry spank his wife, Dr. Lee quickly ascertained that his help had never really been needed.  Henry spanked his wife with true authority, and seemed to have no lack of confidence.  Glenda bawled and kicked as her half-spanked bottom quickly became a fully spanked bottom with an all-over bright-red hue. 

Her legs splayed wide, showing the young preacher more than he really wanted to see.  Red faced, he moved to her other side to allow her that tiny bit of privacy.  As agreed, Henry looked up at Dr. Lee for approval when he had spanked her bottom to an even color, and received a “thumbs up” from his preacher.  He shifted Glenda’s position a bit to give himself a good swing, and trapped her legs with his right leg, and then delivered the finishing full-strength “scorcher” spanks as Glenda bucked and howled.

Soon Glenda was in her husband’s arms.  Both of them in tears.  Their kisses started out tender, but quickly turned passionate. 

Very quickly, Dr, Lee realized that both him and the desert had been forgotten.  He let himself out the front door.
The young Pastor drove home in a state of personal and sexual frustration.  What had long been in the back of his mind now came to the fore; he wanted a relationship like Henry and Glenda enjoyed, wanted it more than anything else in the world. 

In a flash of insight, he realized why he had really been invited to the Gilbert’s home that night.  It wasn’t about Henry and Glenda, it was about him!   Henry had never needed help to spank Glenda.  Actually, they had wanted to give him a not-so-gentle nudge in the direction of marriage.

They had wanted him to see what marriage could be.

His eyes full of tears, he pulled to the side of the road to collect his thoughts.  The young man made two silent vows.  He would diligently and prayerfully search for the right woman, and he would find a way to thank Glenda and Henry for their kindness.  

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