Karen's knees were shaking. She read the note over and over again. She picked up the paddle and felt its heft. She read the note once more. Her heart was beating a mile a minute and her mind was reeling. She put the paper and the paddle back on the counter and then she took a step back, still looking at them, unable to turn away.

The paddle was a formidable-looking piece of work, not unlike the fascinating implement that hung on the wall of her principal's office back in junior high. It was a relic from the past; as far as she knew Mr. Arden never actually used it. But that hadn't stopped Karen from years of secretly fantasizing about being on the receiving end of that paddle, skirt up, panties down, touching her toes or draped over the edge of his desk, finally reaping what she'd sown. This near duplicate was made of some kind of lacquered wood. Fourteen inches long and four inches wide at the business end with the handle extending it to almost two feet. Not thick enough to bruise but hard and unyielding and capable of modifying even the most incorrigible girl's behavior. Tiny holes had been drilled into it to cleverly decrease air resistance and sharpen the "kiss". It was certain to sting like a nest of hornets. Without even realizing she was doing it, Karen's hands crept back to protect the very bottom it had been purchased for.

Sara had thought to get it engraved but they'd argued over what it should say (Pete's tried but true "Board of Education" suggestion contrasting with Tom's more personalized "For Karen's Hot Little Ass" and Sara's spare and ominous suggestion of "Justice") and after almost agreeing on the assonant "Brat Whacker" they'd decided to leave it unmarked for the time being.

They had no qualms about marking Karen, however.

From the living room, Pete sneaked a sly peek at Karen's expression. She was adorable, nervously biting her lip, caught firmly between fear and desire. Just staring and staring at the paddle as the conflict raged within her. She could have been staring at a rattlesnake or a diamond engagement ring. In some ways, it was both those things.

Monday night had been like a fever dream. Magical and thrilling, fantasy made flesh, but also deeply embarrassing (not to mention painful!), stinging her pride and her bottom for days. But aside from making her do all the dishes for the week (this and a wicked comment Sara made on Friday night, as Karen was getting ready for her date), her tormentors had all been strangely silent on the subject. She could almost believe that she'd imagined the whole thing. Almost, except that it sure wasn't easy to sit and the bathroom mirror kept showing her a volleyball every time she examined her bottom cheeks.

No, something had definitely happened. A line had been crossed. She'd wanted them to cross it but still. While she had no regrets, there was an excruciating (and exquisite) sense of humiliation to grapple with. And now it was up to her to decide if this would happen again. And again. She could put a stop to it here and now. Or she could submit. She knew in her heart that if it happened again today, there would be no turning back. She'd go on submitting and they'd treat her this way for years. Throughout college. Maybe longer.

A delirious fantasy. But could she handle the reality?

Tom, Pete and Sara were still watching cartoons. Or rather: pretending to watch cartoons. Waiting to see what their errant roommate-cum-sexual plaything would do.

What she did was step out of the kitchen. Fully clothed. Not carrying the paddle.

"I need to think," she said. "I'll be back in an hour."

Before they could answer, Karen was out the door. She jumped on her motor scooter, gunned the engine and drove off into town.

There was a trendy coffee house nearby that was a godsend for college students. Comfortable and counter-cultural. A good place to study. A good place not to study. Best of all, they had great coffee.

Karen especially liked it because it was half a block from an art house movie theater that showed hard-to-find independent films throughout the week and the Rocky Horror Picture Show every Saturday night at midnight. At age 15, Karen had been something of a regular there, spending nine Saturday nights in a row going to the cult classic, flirting with danger.... more specifically, flirting with the older, grabbier boys in the crowd who preferred making out with a willing, innocent-looking girl to yelling lines at the screen.

Karen parked on the street and strolled into the coffee house. She ordered at the counter and then nestled her sore bottom into one of the softer chairs. She warmed her hands on the mug, peering into the black reflection, and she sipped strong, life-affirming java as she tried to figure out what she wanted.

She thought: How did they know I had these fantasies? It's like they read my diary. Or my mind. But I don't keep a diary and I don't believe in psychic phenomena.... so it must be some kind of strange, wonderful and terrible coincidence....

In reality, it was something of a coincidence that Karen's roommates were as inclined to spank and use her for their sexual pleasure as she was inclined to be spanked and let herself be available to them. But that was the only coincidence. Karen had completely forgotten her habit of talking in her sleep. A week ago, she'd babbled a litany of pleas and moans to imaginary tormentors/ravishers who happened to be named Pete, Tom and Sara. The actual Sara had been there to hear it. Listening carefully, she'd pieced together enough to send her pulse racing. After deliberating (and enduring Karen's bratty, inconsiderate, lazy nature) all Sunday (the capper being that sweater Karen decided to borrow without even asking), Sara told Pete and Tom what their sweet little roommate had been crying out in her sleep last night. Equally intrigued, the three talked about it, plotted, agreed, and became grinning conspirators... the trap was set for Monday night... the scolding arranged.... and Karen did not disappoint.

But Karen did not know it was planned and never would. Throughout the years, it was the one secret they would always keep from her.

Thirty minutes and several black coffees later, Karen had made her decision.

It was a victory of free-spirited sexuality over practical sensibility. She'd decided to go back to the apartment and take everything that was coming to her. The spankings, the chores, the humiliation and the sex. She wanted all of it, craved it greedily, hungrily. As long as they left her *some* semblance of a normal life, she'd give them anything. Scratch that, she'd give them *everything*.

It was liberating. Scary as hell. But liberating.

She paid her bill and staggered into the street in a haze of lust and nervous anticipation.... and her scooter was nowhere to be found.

"Oh damn," she whispered, as if by swearing so she could undo her carelessness. The street sign was perfectly clear. NO PARKING - TOW AWAY ZONE. How could she have missed it?

The simple answer: she was careless. Responsibility was never one of Karen's strong suits.

On the other hand, resourcefulness was; she found the name of the towing company, tracked them down, took a cab there, and tried to flirt her way out of the ticket. She didn't shake off the fine, but she did get her scooter back.

In all the rush, she never thought to call home.

No, she simply showed up two hours later than she'd said, ready to submit. She was greeted at the door by three very angry roommates. The same three who happened to be her lovers. Right away she knew she was in trouble. There was no mistaking the looks on their faces.

"Oh. Um. I'm late, aren't I?"

It was going to be a long afternoon.

Pete spoke first. "I'll say. Don't bother with any explanations, you can apologize and pay for that later. But first things first. As you undoubtedly know, today is when we said we would properly deal with your past history of willful violations of the house rules. If you're done flitting around we'd like to get started so are you ready to be punished?"

This was the moment Karen had been dreading and waiting for all her life but before she could answer Sara held up the paddle. The dark haired beauty stroked the face of it lovingly as she said, "You've not only kept us waiting but this has been dying to meet you formally. I think it's going to be a memorable introduction and the start of a long relationship."

Unable to speak, the paddle's future bride kissed her intended and silently removed her T-Shirt. The rest of her clothes followed and only when totally nude did she find her voice. "I'm sorry I haven't lived up to the rules and willingly present myself to you for correction." She could not take her eyes off the wooden implement and her roommates were unsure if she was talking to them or the paddle. If asked, Karen wouldn't have been able to tell them herself. In her mind there were now four entities she must answer to.

If she had been able to draw her gaze from this new member of her team of chastisers she might have noticed the conspiratorial smiles and glances between them. While her decision to accept further punishment may have been agonizing for her, they knew she would submit to them long before she did. Her confirmation was a foregone conclusion and in spite of their apparent anger at her tardiness they were overjoyed at the way things were turning out. Which is not to say that they would overlook this latest transgression. No, she would pay for that also but in truth, they had no intention of limiting themselves to a quick paddling for past sins and would have found some excuse to increase her punishment and use her for their pleasure.

It may be ironic but the one who was now sentenced to suffer and serve them knew this instinctively and wished she had the words to tell them. She was aware that whatever they planned was going to hurt and didn't fool herself into thinking her trials would not include sex with the boys and Sara. In fact, that's the part she was really looking forward to. However, her decision was to give them complete control over her whether it be pleasant or painful and she had no intention of questioning anything they decreed. Without being aware of it, she had also just given them another opportunity to increase her punishment and this time it would not be one that had to wait. The note said she was to take her clothes off in the kitchen and now they were lying in a heap in the living room.

They pointed out that even now she could not follow the simplest of instructions and once again, she had disappointed them. They said they were ashamed of her and she was directed to pick them up. Her penance was to collect them one piece at a time and bend at the waist for a swat with the paddle as each item was retrieved. The new paddle was passed from hand to hand and Karen was required to turn so her bottom was presented towards whoever held it. Pete was the last to use it and followed her into her bedroom. This relatively short journey was punctuated by a number of swats to help her along. The others came along and she put one hand on her hamper to steady herself as the paddle made the rounds and each item of clothing was placed in the receptacle with the assistance of a kiss from her new friend. Tom used it to pepper her rear end on the trip back to the living room and it was passed to Sara who directed Karen over the arm of the sofa.

Her clothes consisted of her T-Shirt, bra, slacks, panties, two socks and her sneakers. That totaled eight swats to pick them up, six to put them into the hamper (shoes don't go into the hamper but not to worry) and one for each shoe as it was put into the closet. (They didn't forget the shoes after all.) Sixteen plus the extra ones she got in her travels and every one was applied with as much love and force as the swinger could manage. Karen could now consider herself to be fairly well acquainted with the possibilities the paddle had to offer and she knew it was just the tip of the iceberg. Her present position welcomed a lengthy application and the part of her raised high was not looking forward to it but the part a few inches lower was getting more excited at the prospect by the minute.

Anticipation can be as agonizing as the actual physical contact and Sara was well aware of that. Karen was not to be spared this aspect and while maintaining her *prepared for punishment* posture, she listened as they recounted her failings. The list went on and on. At last it was time to pronounce sentence. She was to be paddled by each of the offended parties and the duration of the individual sessions was left to the discretion of the paddler. However, it must be said that these were not cruel people and they knew three extended spankings of that nature given all at once would be more than anyone should bear so they would be spaced throughout the afternoon. That would give the cute little bottom a chance to recover slightly and it could better appreciate the subtle nuances of each paddler's technique.

When asked if she accepted the terms she nodded but hung her head in humiliation as Sara's hand pried her legs apart and informed the men that their little penitent was wet already. Although not distrustful, the other members of the group decided to verify this fact much to Karen's increased embarrassment and pleasure. The pleasure did not last long as they chose to do nothing more than a quick stroke and poke with their fingers.

Once all hands were clear of the target area Karen tensed in expectation but Sara still didn't strike. In a very conversational tone of voice she asked Karen how she liked the new paddle. The trembling response was that it was beautiful but honesty compelled her to add that it hurt. Sara smiled and bent down to give her roommate a sweet kiss on the forehead as she said, "Good, that's why we bought it and I'd hate to think we wasted the money. By the way, even though it's going to be used primarily for you on your road to 'developing a sense of responsibility' it will in general improve life in this apartment for everyone so we thought it only fair if we all contributed to the cost. I'll tell what your share is later and you can pay me in cash. As for now, I'll take your payment for making our lives miserable out of your ass. Ready to make the first installment?"

Again a silent nod as the debtor waited in fear and excitement. Hours went by in the few seconds it took Sara to position herself for optimum swing and proved Karen's brief meeting with the paddle earlier was well short of a truly proper introduction. The hint of the paddle's power to inflict discomfort was finally realized as the crack of a hard, and I do mean hard, swat and the resultant cry of pain echoed off the walls of the room. This small symphony of sounds continued for quite a while with minor variations in the length and quality of Karen's part of the duet.

As counterpoint, Sara filled in the quiet portions with commentary and helpful tips for the enlightenment of her students in the art of using a paddle. She pointed out the difference in response and coloration between this spanking and the one she gave Karen a few days ago. The guys were fascinated and paid close attention to the demonstration. However, after the fourth or fifth swat Karen was oblivious to whatever Sara was saying although she briefly wondered how and where Sara got to know so much about spanking. As I said, the thought was brief and for the most part, her attention was extremely focused on two things. The agonizing pain and forcing herself to keep her hands away from her stinging bottom and staying in position for the seemingly endless rain of blows.

Sara's application was not kept to a consistent tempo and Karen was unable to predict when each one would land. More than once she would receive a series of hard fast swats that gave the indication of a cessation to the punishment only to have her hopes dashed a few seconds later. When the real finale arrived it was something to behold. Beethoven himself could not have orchestrated a more dramatic ending as the paddle became a blur and many strokes blended into one grand and glorious crescendo. Even so, Karen did not believe it to be actually over and was straining every bit of her willpower to keep her ass available and it took a few moments for her to understand that the slapping sound she heard were not accompanied by more unbelievable pain. With tears streaming down her face she looked up for the first time since Sara started and saw her tormentor put the paddle down and gracefully bow to accept the applause coming from the audience.

The ovation died down and the gentlemen helped(?) Karen to her feet. She never thought of her breasts as handles before but two male hands had a tight grip on them as she struggled to rise. The unoccupied hands met in the middle and not only found but added to her arousal. Sara watched until she could see Karen starting to pant and hump against the busy fingers before she spoke. "That's enough of that for now guys. We don't want to distract her too much. She's got work to do." If it was any consolation to the girl on the edge of orgasm, Tom and Pete were disappointed at Sara's edict and Tom asked, "Don't the swats we gave her when she took her clothes off count as a spanking?"

Sara shook her head and reminded them of their pact. She explained to Karen, "We've added a few new rules but you're in no condition to hear about them now so we'll discuss them at lunch. However, do you remember the restriction we are under in that no one gets to have sex with you till they've spanked you? Although technically, we've all fulfilled that requirement when we spanked you Monday we decided the intent of the rule is no sex unless the spanking is given on the same day and we agreed that for today, nobody gets you till we've all had our turn with the paddle. Tom is scheduled for after lunch and Pete will finish you off a couple of hours later but it seems they are getting impatient and to tell you the truth I'm pretty horny right now also. But since we already have a sense of responsibility we are going to keep our word and you will be safe from performing any sexual duties till the third paddling."

She turned to the others and continued, "That doesn't restrict us from fondling our little friend. After all, the way she's dressed certainly invites such attentions." She stepped up to the object of this discussion and used her long fingernails to scrape the skin around the bare breasts and ended with a painful pinch as she pulled them. Karen moved towards her till their faces were close enough for the inevitable kiss. With her erect nipples clasped in the stinging jaws of Sara's nails she opened her mouth and put out her tongue for the embrace that never happened. Instead she stumbled forward into empty air as Sara stepped aside. With an evil laugh, Sara swatted the red bottom with her hand and sent Karen off to clean the kitchen. Humiliated and smarting from this latest attack on her rear end she turned to obey.

She momentarily stopped in her tracks as she heard Sara tell the guys, "I can see how excited you both are and the no sex rule just applies to her. She'll be busy for a while but I'm available and I'd love to have two hard men share in the delights on the flesh."

Through fresh tears she saw the three of them shedding clothes frantically. She couldn't bear to watch any more and she ran to the kitchen. They were at it quite for quite some time and didn't feel any necessity to be quiet about what they were doing. Every moan, groan and word between them struck right to the poor girl's heart.

When the kitchen was done she re-entered the living room where three nude bodies were cuddled together in the afterglow of satisfying sex. Anger overcame her submissiveness and she said, "If you three are finished I'd like to have the kitchen inspected so I can get on with the rest of the chores."

Sara smiled and invited her to join on the group snuggle. Karen's faith in her friends was momentarily restored as she climbed in the middle but I said momentarily didn't I? As soon as she was within reach she found herself facedown over someone's legs and Pete said, "Sarcasm isn't one of your more becoming virtues, it makes you sound like a brat." Three hands descended rapidly and often on the defenseless and still nicely colored star attraction of today's continuing performance. Apologies for her smart-alec attitude were quick in forthcoming and after only a few dozen more swats, were accepted.

Karen was sent to stand in the corner while her roommates got dressed and then she led the way into the kitchen. Surprisingly, they found no fault in the cleanliness and organization of the area although you can be sure they tried. It was a job she would perform again as it was now time for lunch.

Once the sandwiches were made they all were comfortably settled (well, maybe not all were comfortable as one of them was squirming on the hard seat). The new additions to the rules were produced and surprise, all of them referred specifically to Karen. In general they said that until further notice and unanimous consensus by all roommates that she had learned her lesson and had 'developed a sense of responsibility' she would continue to be subject to these conditions.

She would retain her function as scullery maid. Regardless of who made the mess it would be Karen's job to clean up. Her chores would also include cleaning the communal areas. A schedule of which days she would dust and vacuum was attached but any other chores such as picking up after them or wiping up spills would be taken care of immediately.

The rules described her attire during these duties and since the requirement to clean up after them was in force at all times it really meant how she was to be outfitted every day. When she went out she could dress in whatever manner she liked but within these walls she would wear only sandals and a skirt that measured no more than four inches below her crotch. The actual length would be subject to verification by any of the roommates whenever they wished. Of course, panties were forbidden unless she had reason to wear a sanitary napkin. Sara showed her a new g-string she bought on Karen's behalf that would serve the purpose and the thong would keep her bottom properly exposed and available for correction if needed. Opps, belay that remark. Make that when needed. There really is no question about 'if' and any roommate could take her over their knee any time they felt she needed a reminder of her status.

Although not explicitly stated, there was understanding by all of them including the potential spankee that a valid reason for giving her a spanking as punishment for some misdeed would never really be necessary. All that was required was for one of the roommates to express a desire to spend some time putting some color into Karen's ass and it would happen.

As to her clothing above the waist, there had been a long discussion with some favoring nothing at all but the female representative convinced them that constant nudity would soon lose its effect on all of them including Karen. She convinced them that clothing that accentuated her body and could easily be removed or at least be moved out of the way was much better and assured them that Karen would find each incidence of displaying a part of her that was barely hidden to be more embarrassing than if it were constantly in view. The boys yielded to her feminine instincts and they settled on tight fitting tank tops with no bra.

Once she put on her 'house clothes' she would demonstrate her compliance with the dress code by lifting the skirt and then the tank top. If any roommate was not present at that time Karen would welcome them home with the same display. This requirement (the verification that she was not wearing underwear) could be waived whenever anyone other than the roommates was in the apartment. The dress code, however, would still be honored. Note that the wording was 'could be' as opposed to 'would be'. If told to perform the ritual, Karen would do so regardless of who else was there to see her submission.

Although cleaning the bedrooms was still the responsibility of the occupant Karen was required to accept any invitation to spend time in them and perform whatever duties her host demanded. It was understood that her primary purpose during those visits would be to provide sexual satisfaction and the rule requiring her to be spanked before being used in that manner would be followed. However, since these were not considered to be punishments for an explicit infraction they would be limited to application by hand only although the duration would be left to the judgement of her host.

The paddle would be applied only when all roommates were in attendance. If her conduct was satisfactory during the week she would get only one paddling on Saturday mornings. The paddler would be chosen by cutting a deck of cards. However, if her performance and/or attitude warranted more severe attention she would feel the paddle again after lunch the same day but in fairness (to the paddlers, not to Karen), the one who paddled her earlier would not be eligible to wield it a second time within a 24 hour period. Other than today, those punishments would be just that, punishment and would not lead to any sexual relief for the one enduring the paddling.

After all her chores were done and assuming that there was no pending punishment planned, she was free to come and go as she liked.

The last item on the list stated that if Karen wanted to initiate sexual contact with any or all of them the restriction of hand spanking only would be lifted. She would make her wishes known but only after removing all clothes and presenting the object of her desire with the wooden spatula. With a giggle she was told she could, if she was interested in sex with Tom, receive the hand only treatment if she presented him with the black marker so he could get some realistic looking volleyball practice.

At the bottom of the form was a space for Karen's signature agreeing to live under these conditions. With trembling fingers and a pen offered to her by Tom she sealed her fate.

Continue to the next chapter

Return to Quillis Home Page


This page hosted by Get your own Free Home Page