A late winter ice storm had come through and knocked down trees and taken out power for many. Fortunately, I was not impacted and had checked-in with Sarah about conditions in her part of town. Power was out at her place and would likely be so for a few days. I invited Sarah and her out-of-town guest, Carla, to stay at my place rather than endure the cold and dark. The two arrived about dinner time bring a pizza with them. We chatted as we ate, most of the discussion centering on the severe weather that had brought us together. I wondered how much Carla knew about the connection between Sarah and me. We were indeed friends but shared a ‘hobby’ that I kept discretely untold to other friends and family. I was not sure whether Sarah was more open to others in her life.
This mutual enthusiasm was spanking. There was no set timing but every two weeks or so, Sarah and I would arrange a session together. Sometimes it was triggered by an event in our personal or work lives. For instance, Sarah had recently been stopped for speeding. She only received a warning from the traffic cop but received a rather intense spanking from me. Conversely, I had lost my temper with a member of my staff at work and Sarah used this a provocation for a trip over her knee while she warmed my bare butt with her hairbrush. Other times, one or both of us would declare the need to give or receive a spanking - just because - and a session would ensue.
After dinner we watched an episode of a series to which we were all addicted. The women were headed up to bed, happy the share my single guest room on the second floor, when Sarah interjected, “We want a bedtime spanking.” I was taken aback but very happy to oblige the request. I looked inquiringly at Carla and she nodded eagerly.
“Ok, go get ready for bed. I will be up shortly,” I scolded. I gave them about ten minutes, mostly to build anticipation on both sides. In scenarios like this, I yearned to be a fly on the wall, seeing them undress and put on their pajamas, hearing the excited banter about the impending punishment. I knocked on the door and entered. I looked at Sarah chided, “Young lady, you and your friend have been very naughty. What happens to naughty girls?” She was wearing a t-shirt over polka-dot flannel pajama bottoms.
“They get their bare bums spanked?” Sarah answered anxiously.
“Indeed, you’ve both earned a good spanking,” I replied, turning my gaze to Carla. She was wearing red flannel, onesie pajamas and I wondered if they had a had a drop-seat because, if not, baring her bottom would involve undoing the front closures and almost complete exposure.
She nodded contritely and murmured, “Yes, sir.”
I took a seat on the end of the bed and commanded, “Sarah, you know the routine.” She tentatively approached my right side. I quickly tugged her pajamas down and guided her over my lap. I spanked her with my bare hand for about a minute but was dissatisfied with the results. “Carla, please fetch me the brush that’s in the bedside table?” She retrieved the wooden brush, eyeing it carefully, knowing that soon it would be applied to her own bottom. I resumed Sarah’s spanking, now confident that my message was effectively communicated. When her cheeks were very pink, I gave each sit-spot a series of concentrated volleys and then let her up. I beckoned Carla to my side, she gave me a sly wink and turned sideways to show me the partially open flap covering her bottom. I guided her over my knee, fully opened the flap and began to paddle her bum. Carla wriggled and bucked more than Sarah and her right hand came back, not so much to block my swats but as if seeking restraint. I pinned it to the small of her back and continued the spanking until the color of her exposed bottom began to match her pajamas. She sprung up and began the cutest post-spanking dance I had ever seen.
I left the two rubbing their sore bottoms and headed to bed. Once alone, I tended to the raging boner that spanking always created - whether I was giving or receiving the swats. In the morning, I rose and prepared for work. I was ready to leave and heard the upstairs shower running as I rose the stairs. I knocked on the bedroom door and Sarah answered still in her pajamas. “Good morning, sleepy head. I’m heading to work. You two make yourselves at home,” I said. The two women would be working remotely today. Just then the bathroom door opened and Carla emerged, wrapped in a towel. As she passed by us, Sarah gave the towel a mischievous tug and the towel fell away, leaving Carla completely bare. She squealed in surprise but seemed otherwise unabashed and made no effort to cover up. I could not help appreciating her body and she smile in satisfaction of the show she was providing. “That wasn’t very nice, missy,” I scolded. “Bend over the bed.” Sarah turned and assumed the position as instructed. I yanked her pajama bottoms down and unbuckled my belt. I quickly laid a dozen strokes on her bare cheeks, creating a pink swath on her bottom.
I was about to re-thread the belt and Carla asked, “Can I use that for a minute?” I handed her the belt and she began to give her friend’s bottom additional strokes. I watched in awe, my gaze alternating between the strap hitting Sarah’s round bottom and Carla’s spectacular breasts bobbling and swaying as she swung the belt. She finished and caught me looking at her, handed me the belt and conspicuously eyed the bulge in my pants. “Thanks,” she said and set about getting dressed.
“See you two later,” I said and left for work. Concentrating at my desk was a bit difficult, given the excitement of the morning and the hope of more fun after work. When I got home, the two were in the kitchen preparing something that smelled wonderful. “How was your day?” I asked.
“Not so productive,” Sarah replied, adding, “Probably watched as much Netflix as actual work.” I took a large wooden spoon from a crock of utensils by the stove and had her bend over the counter, yanked down her sweat pants and gave her butt ten hard whacks. “And you?” I asked Carla. She wordlessly assumed the position and pealed down her yoga pants. I applied the spoon to her tush and then opened a bottle of wine.
“Make anybody cry today?” Carla asked, with a sly smile.
“Not yet,” I replied. “The night is still young.” Sarah had obviously told her friend about an episode a few weeks earlier when I had lost my temper with a young female intern leaving the young woman in tears. Sarah had insisted I atone for my outburst and pulled me over her lap for a long, bare bottom hand spanking. I figured Carla knew not only about the loss of temper but the consequences and perhaps was considering how she might take the upper hand over me. Truthfully, I would not object to submitting to her, if asked. I also wondered if Sarah had shared how the punishment session had concluded, attending to my erection with her mouth and swallowing the eventual outcome.