My sorority girl story passed 20,000 words today, and I still haven’t gotten to the Spanking Court scene. I thought it would be the climax, but now I think it’s going to be the end of Act 2, with the climax being something substantially more intimate. I’m having a lot of fun writing the story, and now I’ve included characters from both Baker’s Dozen and Weekend Plans. I love my little spanking connected universe. I wonder who else from my stories is going to show up.

At some point I’m going to need to figure out a title for this story — right now I’m vacillating between Kristen’s First Spanking Party and Kristen Goes to Court, but I don’t love either of those. So, while I think about that (and if you have any title ideas, I’m open to them), here’s one of our heroine’s spankings:

“I got paddled earlier,” she said.

“I can tell.” He rubbed her bottom with his palm; his skin was cooler than she’d expected it to be. “I’ll try not to hit you there too much.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kristen told him. “Just spank me however you want to.”

“You know that can open up a whole world of possibilities, right?”

She nodded. “I think you know what I mean, though.”

“I do.” He patted her backside.

Then he smacked it. Not too hard, not too soft; there was a bright, crisp crack of palm on bottom, and the accompanying mild pain that came with it. Another smack, another little ache. Then Jack settled into a nice, slow rhythm, spanking her just above her marks, his hand narrow enough or her backside curvy enough — or both — that there was enough room to do that without going too high. It stung a little more than being hit down low, because she didn’t usually get spanked in that exact location, but it felt nice, too.

Kristen stretched her arms out, head to the side, facing the headboard — if someone came in to watch, she wasn’t going to distract herself by looking at them — and relaxed her body as much as she could. Jack was a very able spanker; he kept up the rhythm almost perfectly, the switching from left to right and back again lulling her into a comfortable, if somewhat painful, state. 

The spanking didn’t hurt, exactly. Well, that wasn’t right; it did hurt, but not in a bad way. The heat was like a sunburn, warming her bottom, and the alternating, rhythmic swats were almost like a massage of sorts. It was a nice spanking, and a nice way to wind down after the intense paddling she’d gotten down in the dungeon room.

To her surprise, Jack didn’t stop or check in; he must have been reading her reactions and figuring out that stopping would break the flow. She had no idea how long the spanking went on for; she lost track of time. But Jack never disrupted the rhythm; he just kept going, spanking her over and over — measured, even swats that turned Kristen into a puddle of happy endorphins.