Sally and I met online and began a lively conversation about our favorite topic - spanking. We both considered ourselves primarily as spankers but certainly curious, maybe even eager, about submitting, as well. Our online banter went on for quite some time before we realized we were practically neighbors. After that, the email exchange was only slightly diminished but we now added a nearly weekly in-person meet-up for discussion, drinks and occasionally dinner. There was a certain unspoken tension about actual play that lasted quite a while.

It was a couple of months into the weekly after-work meet-ups that Sally shared she’d had a particularly rough day. I listened to her review of the various things that went wrong, wondering if we were thinking the same about resolution. When she finished, I asked a few questions about various factors in the day’s assortment of events. She answered in a tone that suggested we might be thinking similarly, so I prompted her with a leading question, “You probably know that a good spanking would be the best response to your day and how you’re feeling?” She nodded her agreement. After we finished our drinks, we left to regroup at her place for the first of many nearly weekly and usually alternating spanking sessions.

Sally lived in the next street over and when I came home from work today, I glanced down from the intersection and noticed not only a couple of cars in her drive but at least another two parked on the street in front of her place. I thought this odd as she had mentioned she would miss our usually weekly conversation and spanking meet-up as she was at a conference. I was a bit let-down as it was her turn as spankee and I truly loved put her over my knee and heating her lovely backside.

I texted her when I got home, ‘You back?’.

She replied, ‘Nope. Away all week. See you weekend?’

‘Thought I saw cars at your place. Yes - wanna warm your tush. ,’ I answered.

There was a pause of several minutes and she called. “My friend Cecilia had been housesitting,” she began. I had briefly met Cecilia before and now recalled Sally mentioning the housesitting arrangement. “She asked if her friend Becka could join her and I agreed to that. Against, my rules, she had invited several more friends over for a game night. All very innocent but a violation of my trust. The other folks have left and I’ve voiced my dissatisfaction with Cecilia and Becka and how I feel they broke my trust. We have discussed consequences and I was hoping you might do me a favor.”

“Whaddya need?” I asked.

“Each of them deserves at least a dozen with Buster,” Sally answered. “Can you do that for me?”

“Happy to help,” I replied. “When?”

“No time like the present,” Sally answered. “They will be expecting you shortly. Please send me a pic of the results.”

Buster was Sally’s name for a moderately sized paddle I had made for her. It was crafted from half-inch oak, sixteen inches long and three inches wide. I had bored a matrix of half-inch holes in the contact zone. I had both applied and received it and knew it was a formidable implement. A dozen swats would definitely leave a mark. On the walk over to her place, I thought about my approach - this being the first time I had ever disciplined more than one spankee.

Cecilia answered the door, apparently awaiting my arrival. Cecilia was a tall, voluptuous redhead. Becka, a shorter and very lithe brunette, was behind her in the entryway. They led me into the living room where Buster already lay on the coffee table. “I see you are ready for your discipline,” I said, nodding at the implement that usually hung in a hallway closet.

“Sally said to be ready,” Cecilia offered. She seemed the more nervous of the two obout the ensuing action. “Is there any way we might convince you to lessen the severity of our punishment?”

“You really broke Sally’s trust,” I replied. “I’ve agreed to paddle your bottoms on her behalf as consequence of your behavior. Your minimum quota is twelve swats. Once you’ve each received your dozen, we can discuss your contrition and the reasons for me to not add to the count. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” the two answered in near unison.

I moved an ottoman to clear a nice open space and then pointed to a line in the pattern of the southwestern-themed rug on the floor. “Stand side-by-side, on that line facing me, about arms-length apart,” I instructed. They obeyed my instruction, Cecilia left and Becka to the right. “Cecilia, turn and face the other way,” I instructed, setting-up the scene I had concocted on the walk over. “Both of you, pants and panties down, bend over with your hands on your knees. If you leave this position, the swat does not count,” I added. Cecilia was wearing jeans and Becka yoga pants, in just a few moments both bottoms where bare and presenting awesome targets.

I tapped Cecilia’s generous bottom with the paddle and gave her a swat. She grunted and I ordered, “Count these.”

“One!” she replied. I gave her two more and then moved to apply a trio to Becka. I was applying what I felt were moderate swats, wanting to have some ability to continue beyond twelve, if I so chose, and not have to stop because I had already worn out either of their tushes. I tapped the paddle against Becka’s bottom. Her backside was taut and firm, perhaps half the volume of Cecilia’s soft, generous cheeks. I quietly deliberated on how hard to swing as she had considerably less padding to absorb the energy of the swat. I gave her ass a sharp smack and she replied almost euphorically, “One!”. Perhaps she was going to enjoy this too much?

I really delighted in watching the impact of the board against their women’s asses - the shockwave each strike created and the emerging color as the swat count grew. The arrangement also allowed the women a close-up view of their friends bottom being spanked. I also liked watching the expression on the face of the viewer, seeing their friends tush absorb the hit and knowing their own bottom was being similarly watched.

After the Becka’s twelfth swat, I allowed them to stand but not move from their spots. Both rubbed their own behinds but also appreciated the color and condition of the other’s. “I’m thinking you both deserve at least another six,” I announced.

“I was thinking we might convince you to forgive us the extra swats,” Becka offered. She looked over at Cecilia who nodded. They had clearly concocted a scheme together.

“How so?” I asked. Becka was closest and reached and began to unbuckle my belt. “We give you a tag-team blowjob and you’ll forget all about paddling us more.”

“Or, I will consider such behavior very naughty, and put you over my knee and rewarm both your bottoms - but after you’ve finished,” I teased.

Cecilia was quickly on her knees, sucking on my erection. “Promises, promises,” she mumbled around the obstacle in her mouth.