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Get your own Free Home PageSome of you may recognize the opening paragraphs. They're taken directly from my story called "A Weekend in the Country" (posted on this site). In the original their first spanking comes to an end when the girl suggests that the boy put on a glove. I thought it might be fun to see what would happen if he took her up on her suggestion. So here is an alternative to the way that story opened.
The Triple Glove Treatment.
This story dates back to my college days and involves a girl I dated a few times. We had fun together but our physical relationship never progressed beyond a few friendly kisses. Instead, we just became good friends and thoroughly enjoyed each other's company on a platonic level. That's not to say we still didn't engage in a little harmless flirting and teasing now and then but we never acted on it. We had the kind of friendship that allowed us to express opposing opinions without taking or giving offense and the trust in each other to share our most intimate thoughts.
No subject was taboo. For instance, she told me (in great detail) about losing her virginity to a boy she was dating in high school. She said she didn't find it very satisfying and only did it once. My contribution was relating how I thought I had found true love in the girl next door but waited to consummate our love in her house a few days before she moved away. We had also exchanged a few fantasies and laughingly described our lusts for other students. I don't mean to say that sex was all we talked about, our conversations ran the gambit from silly movies to deep (for college students) philosophical issues.
Of course, we did more together than just talk. One of our favorite activities was to go ice skating. My folks had a little cabin next to a lake about 50 miles from our college and you could count on us (and usually a few other friends) being there most every Saturday during the winter.
On one occasion when it was just the two of us, we spent the morning skating and after a lunch break in the cabin, got into a little tickling contest. When she tried to scramble away from my assault I caught her as she was starting to climb onto the couch. Her knees were on the floor and the rest of her was leaning on the cushions. My position was such that my right hand was free and able to plant a good smack to her rear end. She gave a playful yelp and I held her down with my left hand to give another swat with my right.
I asked if she was going to stop tickling me and she said, "Never!" She gave a token effort to wriggle free and I gave her a few more slaps but they didn't seem very effective. She was laughing so I kept up our little game. I never hit very hard but as I gave her a few more her laughter subsided and she slowly pushed her bottom out farther, almost as if she was encouraging me to continue. She had also stopped her playful resistance. The game had definitely taken a different turn and I wasn't sure how to handle it. Never the less, I continued as before only at a slower pace.
After a few more I stopped and asked if she had learned her lesson and would promise to be a good girl. She turned her head towards me and answered, "Are you going to spank me until I do?" She had a smile that I could only interpret as seductive so I gave her another swat and told her I would. She turned to face the back of the couch again as she said, "Have at it but your hand is going to wear out before my ass does." I swatted harder and asked if she was talking about the amount of clothes she had on. She was wearing corduroy slacks and long underwear in addition to whatever other under garments women wore back then. She giggled and answered, "I am well protected, aren't I?"
I stopped the swats but kept my hand resting lightly on her as I put my head close to her ear and whispered, "In that case, don't you think it would be more fair if we evened the odds?" She thought for a moment then giggled as she said, "If you want to put on a glove that's OK with me." We both laughed a little until I moved my resting hand in a circular motion on her bottom and said, "Wait right here. I'll be back in a moment."
I scurried around and found some white cotton gloves. My mom uses them when she's cleaning the spots off the glasses. Then I went ot the closet and got my father's military gloves from his tour in the Arctic. They are leather with insulated inserts. With three layers of cloth around my hand I returned to my victim.
She was as I left her and giggled again as she saw my preparations. Her smile was reflected in mine as I said, "This ought to protect my hand. Now we'll see who wears who out first. I believe it's time for me to, in your words, have at it."
She feigned fear and said, "Oh help me. He's going to give me the triple glove treatment."
In my best nasty villain imitation I responded, "There's no one here to help or hear you scream. You are mine."
By then I was back on my knees behind her and delivered a good swat. With six layers of cloth (four of them substantial) between my hand and her luscious bottom the old adage that spankings were supposed to hurt was not even close to being true. Nevertheless, she played the game and said things like "Ouch" and "Golly that hurts". Of course, these pitiful expressions of discomfort were almost lost in our laughter. Things started to change as I varied my landing sites from high on her rear end to the softer flesh below and down to the tops of her thighs. No amount of fabric between us could disguise the fact that my fingers were inches away from ., well, lets just say they were that close to being a blatantly sexual advance.
Her laughs were getting fewer and fewer and the phony cries of despair disappeared with them only to be replaced by an occasional soft "Oh" with a bit of sighing thrown in for good measure. That's when I stopped swatting.
I can hear you now. What kind of idiot stops swatting just when it's apparent she's getting interested? But wait, I had a plan.
I peeled off the outer leather glove and said, "I think it's time to remove a layer."
She looked back at me and after a counterfeit look of shock, smiled at my suggestion that she should follow suit. She switched to a nonchalant shrug and said, "What the hell, you've seen me in a lot less." She reached under herself to unsnap her jeans and I assisted her in pulling them off her rear end and down to her knees. Just as she settled back down I lifted one of her legs and slid the jeans farther. She raised her other knee as she asked what I thought I was doing. Two could play at being nonchalant and I said, "It's only fair. I took the outer glove off completely."
Since we had taken our skates off when we came into the cabin she only had socks on so the slacks cleared her feet easily. She looked great in tight jeans but that was nothing to the way the long underwear hugged her curves. As if I needed an invitation, she put her head back on the cushion and stuck her rear end out even more. Oddly enough, the glove insert was the same fabric as the nicely formed area it was touching. They were both an oatmeal color and from a distance you couldn't tell where my hand ended and she began. Of course, this is just a guess since I was not a great distance from the view. I could certainly ascertain the difference and I had no doubt that she was well aware of which part was hers and which part was about to start spanking again. I pointed out the similarity in hue but she didn't seem overly interested in a discussion on the outward appearance of the material. To be honest, neither was I. My attention was focused on the location the glove had just departed.
I brought it down with a hearty swat. She shifted her body and made a sound that was a cross between shock, mild pain, satisfaction and encouragement for more. Her bottom returning to its original position for another lent credence to the last and since it appeared we both wanted more I struck again.
As before I varied my landing sites and the target wriggled beautifully. Sometimes she arched her back as if to show me she wanted me to spend time on the underside of her bottom and other times she slid back on her knees so only the round upper portion of her rear end was available. I did my best to fulfill her silent requests while occasionally striking in an unexpected spot. The muffled spanks were soon almost inaudible and overpowered by her sighs. When she finally formed the words, "Yes, that's the way." it was time to remover another layer.
It took her a moment to realize I had stopped and was holding my hand by her face. I asked her to pull the insulated insert off and explained that I had to hold the cotton liner so it wouldn't come of with the insert. She smiled as she slowly inched it off my hands and her facial expression told me she knew what was coming off next. As soon as the glove was clear of my hand she reached back and slid her fingers under her long underwear to grasp the waistband of her panties. As she did with the glove, I took my time peeling the long johns down while she kept the last barrier in its proper place. This time she lifted her knees as soon as I got the underwear to the floor and then they were gone.
There was a cotton to cotton match but while the glove was white, her panties were a pale pink. A foretaste of the color her bottom would be before I was done spanking her. Speaking of which, the sound of my hand landing on the world's most spankable bottom was more noticeable as were her groans. They were becoming more towards the "Ouch, that smarts" but there was still a definite flavor of "I like it when you do that" as I followed the bouncing bottom and placed loving spank after loving spank.
I can't say exactly how long I spent in that wonderful activity but it was heavenly and she seemed to be getting into the idea of me spanking her harder and harder with each swat. She was breathing pretty heavily when I gave us both a break and held her bottom with a little squeeze. She turned her face to me and smiled as I moved my hand to where she could reach it. I pulled one finger of the glove before holding it out to her. She finished the job and rather than tossing it to one side as she did with the other layers, she kept it and held it next to her heart. Then she raised her body off the couch so I would have no trouble performing a similar action on her. Never was there a more glorious sight than the one I had as I breathlessly pulled her panties down and off.
It was so lovely I almost hated to spank it. Who am I kidding? I couldn't wait to spank it. Every contact left a small red blotch and again, the movement of her rear end was not intended to avoid any stroke but to suggest where it might be best put to use. With her help I proved my prediction that her bottom would be as pink as her panties to be accurate. You could feel the heat rising from her. (Well, maybe you can't but I sure as heck did.) Not all the heat was a result (or at least not a direct result) of skin to skin friction. The spanking ended when she slid off the couch while keeping her rear end up in the air and her knees wide apart. Either she was asking me to spank the insides of her thighs or offering me access to the wetness between her legs. After a few token (but not too soft) spanks I accepted the second offer.
I felt a little silly with my clothes bunched up at my knees as I thrust into her time and time again but after a violent climax we shucked the rest of our clothes and spent the afternoon in bed.
We've never done the three glove business since but she knows that any attempt to tickle me will get her a good spanking. Excuse me but I can see her sneaking up on me out of the corner of my eye. I think she's preparing an attack and then I have no choice but to . Hey, cut it out, I'm almost done typing. Wait a minute. O.K. You asked for it.
Life is good.
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