Aug 072006
 

It was a good night for spanking. The Kinks Club was filled with so many sweaty bodies, and the hot Georgia air was overwhelming the meager air-conditioning. Enigma was on non-stop rotation over the sound system, and the lights were set comfortably dim. I was giving demonstrations on proper spanking technique, and there was a long line of eager female asses ready to be taught a thing or two.

I had just finished beating some submissive named Kitten or Angel or some derivation thereof. As I was getting ready to call the next eager sacrifice, a man rudely pushed himself to the front of the line. I snickered at his appearance. He looked like a young Vincent Price, complete with cape and little leather bag. His shirt was unbuttoned to reveal a smooth chest that looked freshly waxed. He radiated that macho sense of domination that said he expected to be called Lord somebody.

“Sorry, I spank only women,” I told him.

To read more, click Whole Post

I pissed him off with that one comment. His nostrils flared, which is something I didn’t think actually happened.

“I am not here to be spanked,” he said. “I am here to challenge you, Timothy Kyle Vance, to a contest of spanking prowess.”

Yep, he pissed me off with one comment, too. It’s what doms do, I guess.

“You know my name, but you haven’t told me yours.”

“I am the Devil,” he said.

The crowd laughed.

“The Devil?” I sneered.

All the lights shut off except for one single brilliant light that seemed to emanate from the man. The smell of brimstone overwhelmed the smell of sweat and leather. The music stopped, and all that could be heard was the gasping of the audience as motherfucking WINGS sprang from the dude’s back.

“I am Lucifer, the Lightbringer, Satan Himself!”

“All right, don’t let your panties get in a bunch. I believe you. You seriously want to challenge me to a spanking match?”

The Devil nodded. The lights came back on, and the wings went back under the cape. “I’ll bet the finest submissive in the world against your soul that I can spank ass better than you.”

Now he’d pissed me off a second time. “All right, first of all, I can’t believe you brought this shit back to Georgia. Didn’t you learn anything from that song?”

In an instant, the Devil was right in my face, and I could see the fires of Hell shimmering in his eyes. “Do not bring up that thrice-damned song! How was I supposed to know that inbred, cross-eyed, cousin-fucking hick was a cock-sucking autistic fiddle-playing genius?”

I stepped back. “All right, fair enough. But offering me a submissive? Submissives come and go. Offer me something I can keep.”

The Devil smiled as he reached into his leather bag. “There’s always the classics,” he said.

Fuck. He brought out the most beautiful paddle I had ever seen. It was wide, wicked looking and bright gold. It caught the light and glowed like a freshly spanked ass. A dom like me deserves a paddle like that.

“A paddle of gold against your soul that I can spank better than you,” the Devil said.

“You know I’m a Buddhist, right?”

“Look,” the Devil said with a sigh. “Do you want the fucking paddle or not?”

“There might be some theological issues to settle, but sure, you got a bet.”

“I will go first,” the Devil announced. He scanned the crowd of assembled people and pointed at a goth chick named Deathwing. He pointed at her, and she wet her black lace panties. She brought her pale white ass right on over and shimmied out of her panties. Without any word from us, she took her position over the spanking bench and offered her curvy bottom to our game.

I stepped back and gave the Devil room. He lifted the paddle of gold up high so everyone could see it. He snapped his fingers and little blue flames appeared all over Deathwing’s body. The Goth girl screamed and then moaned as the flames turned into little nibbling demons that licked, bit and sucked on her flesh. The girl started to hump the bench, and the Devil hadn’t even touched her.

The paddle of gold came down hard and — whack! — left a damn nice print on her white ass. Deathwing squealed, and a little blue demon stuck something naughty in her mouth to hush her. The Devil paused, waiting for the echoes of the paddle to fade away before hitting again.

Show-off.

On and on he smacked the goth chick’s ass with that same level of pretension and melodrama. Whack and then pause for the pose. Whack and then wait for the print to appear. The demons kept nibbling her body, and Deathwing kept swooning and squirming like she was in heat. The whole scene was overacted and so full of posturing shit that I expected the Devil’s eyes to turn brown.

The people at the club ate it up , of course, and applauded every goddamned affectation.

When the Devil was done, they had to carry Deathwing away from the bench. Her ass was black, blue and somehow gold. A wet spot the size of a Chevron Big Gulp dripped from the bench. They took her over to the comfort couch where a blanket was laid over her as if she were a horse after a long race. The fact that she was actually fucking sitting didn’t impress me at all.

Not that it was noticed by this bunch. I couldn’t believe the sheer adoration from the crowd of leather posers. The Devil had given them the spanking they all imagined in their Anne Rice- and Laura Hamilton-inspired masturbation fantasies.

“Since you provided me with my partner, I shall provide you with yours,” the Devil said.

Stepping out from under his cape was the ugliest, dumpiest flat-bottomed girl I had ever seen. Judging from her red skin and horns, I assumed she was another of his demons. The sagging tits and grossly distorted shaved pubic lips told me she was a gal, but the goatee around her lips prevented me from calling her a lady. This abomination of spanking horror winked at me and took her place on the bench. She wiggled her flat ass at me.

I snorted. “If you thought this ugly fuck was going to turn me off, then you don’t know much about spanking.”

I picked my harshest, meanest leather paddle and walked right over to that ugly daughter of a bitch. One hand gripped her by the horn and yanked her head straight back. The demon bitch froze in mid ass wiggle. I think she realized that there are other kinds of Hell here on earth.

“This is how we whup ass in Georgia,” I said.

I spanked her ass lightly until the heat built deep within her..

I spanked the top of her thighs till tears of acid dropped from her eyes.

I spanked her right buttock till it was redder than the devil’s face.

I spanked her left buttock till it was redder than the right.

I pulled her head back and told her exactly how I was beating her ass.

I fulfilled every promise I made with the harshest swings I could give with my paddle.

I spanked.

I punished.

I claimed her ass the way only a spanker knows how.

She climaxed, and the wail of a damned soul screaming in bliss was something to hear. In her spasm, her hands and knees shattered the steel bench. She fell to the ground, and I released the horn I was holding. On the ground, she planted little kisses that burned my leather boots.

I looked at the Devil while his demon kissed my boots. The Devil sighed and set the paddle down right at my feet. The crowd was too stunned to say anything. That’s fine. I got everything I wanted when I saw the slump of the Devil’s shoulders.

“Fucking Georgians,” he said as he vanished in a cloud of black smoke.

The demon bitch disappeared with him. The paddle of gold, however, stayed. I walked over to it and picked it up. Damn, it just felt right in my hand.

“All right,” I said to the assembled crowd. “Who needs their ass tanned now?”

  7 Responses to “Fiction: Timothy and the Paddle of Gold”

  1. oh that’s so funny!

  2. Thanks, now I have to masturbate and all I’ll be hearing is that song in my head!

    The devil went down to Georgia
    He was looking for a soul to steal
    And he was in a bind
    ‘Cause he was way behind
    And was willin’ to make a deal.

  3. Janelle- Thanks I find myselt terribly fond of this story.

    Madame X- I can think of far worse songs to have stuck in your head :)

  4. While you’re masturbating?
    No this one’s pretty bad, too fast…I got a cramp in my forearm.

  5. Where are all these awesome sex clubs, and when are you organizing an Eroterrorist field trip? ;)

  6. I’m having Charlie Daniels Band flashbacks now hun,…but a paddle instead of a fiddle makes it alot more interesting.

  7. Madame X- This is why I do a warmup before every masturbation session.

    Wordslut- Sadly they all reside in my libido though people have been taking feild trips there for close to ten years.

    Tragic- Paddles make everything more interesting

Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.