Regular reader may recall my previous descriptions of my kinky friends Alison and Gregg; and how Alison needs to be spanked but she does not want her partner Gregg to be the spanker.
A few years ago when Alison first started asking me to spank her she would ‘phone me, explain that she wanted a spanking and sweeten the deal by inviting me to dinner. This has become such a regular event she now just SMS texts me with the dinner invite and the spanking part is just assumed. We dine together every five or six weeks.
I had just such an invite before Christmas last year. I thought I would take my vanilla friend Vivian along to meet Alison and Gregg and introduce her to a kinky dinner party. It did not go quite how I expected, but there you go, life can be a bit like that.
I did tell Vivian in advance about the spanking part of the invite and she was cool(ish) with that. Mostly Alison likes an OTK spanking with a hairbrush or similar, nothing too severe, so I thought Alison would see it as a bit of adult fun.
We arrived for the dinner party with a nice bottle of Chablis that I thought would go well with the fish dish that Alison was going to serve.
Alison was busy in the kitchen getting the vegetables ready for the steamer, the fish pie was in the oven and so there was about 30 minutes before dinner. Just about the right amount of time to give a girl some red cheeks.
Vivian was chatting with Gregg in the lounge and I was talking kinky with Alison in the kitchen.
“I thought that you should use the cane tonight Fred, is that OK?” Alison knows that I don’t really do the severe implements.
“OK if you’re sure that’s what you want.”
“Please Fred, I really need this tonight. You know how you usually spank me? Well can you do it harder this time please.” She put her arm around me and hugged me. “I really need the stress relief, Christmas has fucked me up.” Alison has a very posh voice, so when she swears it sounds especially rude.
“Just for swearing I think you deserve the cane.” Alison hit the go button on the steamer and wind the dial to 30 minutes. “Let’s do it!”
We went into the lounge. Gregg and Vivian were getting along fine.
“Time to get spanked.” Alison announced it as if it happens all the time. Which, I suppose, for her it does. She pulled out a chair to bend over and then she produced a cane. Long. Crook handled. Thick. Not the sort of implement I usually use. I didn’t realise that she possessed such harsh cane.
She wiggled out of her skirt and pulled her tights and knickers down to half mast. Then she waddled to position in front of the chair.
I flexed the cane. Suddenly I was unsure about what I was going to do. I feared for wrap around and getting the strokes too high or too low.
“Twelve please Fred, harder than your usual style like we discussed?”
“OK. Bend over!” Dutifully she bent over the chair. She does have a delightful bottom. Full girl’s hips just the way girl’s hips should be. A nice target for a brush or paddle. A nightmare with a flexible cane.
I took my position and lined the cane up. I fiddled for a few moments while I considered how far back I should stand, I usually get too close when I try to cane hard, I think I must lean into the stroke and over reach. I took half a step back and lined up again.
I swished the cane and flexed my wrist. Alison cried out with pain. Vivian looked horrified. Gregg checked his wife’s bottom.
“Spot on Fred, stay at that length.” Nice to know I was on target.
I swished away for another five with a pause between each stroke. Alison was yelling and wriggling at each stroke. I did the next four in quick succession but as I feared the accuracy went awry and they ended up a bit low. Alison yelled louder. Vivian had her face hidden in her hands, but I think she was peeking through her fingers.
“A bit low Fred.” Gregg said as he checked.
“I know, sorry.” I lined up the penultimate stroke and applied it with force. Alison screamed.
“Spot on that time.” Gregg confirmed.
I repeated the same stroke.
Alison remained bent over, her breath coming in gasps. “May I have six more just like that last ones please Fred?” She asked very politely.
I lined up the cane and swished her hard. She had become more stoic and did not make as much fuss. maybe the endorphins were kicking in, or was it the wine?
Steadily I applied five more strokes. There was a long pause and then Alison stood up. I turned her to look at her bottom. Harsh tram line marks striped her bottom, with a few just encroaching onto her upper thigh. She waddled into the hallway and turned to look at her bottom in the long mirror. She traced the marks with her finger. She pulled up her knickers and tights. I gave her a big hug.
“Thanks Fred!” Right on cue the steamer timer pinged. “Good timing.”
She wandered off to the kitchen to carry on with the dinner preparations, she did not bother to put her skirt back on.
We took our places for dinner, Alison brought in the fish pie and vegetables. The Chablis was served and we chatted about vanilla subjects.
On the way home Vivian asked; “You do this to her every month?”
“Not usually like that, mostly it’s over my lap with a hairbrush. I can’t remember the last time I caned her, years ago.”
“It was harsh, it scared me.”
“I don’t usually play like that, it scares me too.”
“Hardly playing!”
“It’s a figure of speech. we call it playing, it’s a euphemism.”
“Delicious dinner, she is a good cook. Gregg’s nice.”
A few days later I got Alison to call Vivian to reassure her that all was well and that it was an unusual play time.
The moral of the story? Be careful how you introduce your vanilla friends to your kinky friends.
” Put like that; I suppose not. 
