The Paddle Club: A Fun, Romantic and Erotic Spanking Novel

by Kohler, Susan

  “Take a good look at that pale butt before the club members get their hands on it. It’s going to be so red and hot, I can hardly wait. I bet it will hurt like hell. In fact, if I close my eyes and use my imagination I can almost see the welts right here.” He put his hand on her ass and he taunted her cruelly, with no hint of his former affection.

  Suzanne wondered to herself why she didn’t just dump this loser, but almost against her will she found herself walking down the stairs with him. When they got outside she noticed a long, white limousine waiting for them. “The club sent it to pick me up,” Michael boasted. Big shot!

  “It’s picking me up, too, Michael,” Suzanne muttered under her breath.

  The limo driver turned out to be a kindly looking older man about sixty. He was short and chubby. He had merry green eyes and wavy, snow white hair. The man introduced himself as Jerry and said he was a member. He held the door very formally as they got into the car. As Suzanne got in he gave her a lusty swat on the left cheek of her buttocks. Even through the dress the swat made her bottom sting and tingle.

  “Sorry, Miss. I got ahead of myself.” He sounded completely unrepentant then laughed at the surprise on her face, and winked. “Maybe later you can pay me back for my dreadful impertinence.”

  She sank back into the plush velvet interior of the limo. Michael got in beside her. The upholstery was burgundy and the rest of the interior was rich wood paneling with gold trim. The limo was fully stocked. It had a small bar with champagne and tall, crystal fluted goblets. There was a television, a phone and a small drawer filled with condoms. In addition to the champagne, a shelf above the bar had a bottle labeled “Spanking After Care Lotion” on it. The sight of the lotion and the thought of its possible use made Suzanne’s mouth feel dry. During the ride to the club headquarters her butt tingled on the spot where the cheerful chauffeur had slapped it.

  When they arrived at the club Suzanne had a brief glimpse of a large brick building, with white trim. There was a covered porch that ran the whole length of the front of the building. It was also painted a gleaming white. There were several wrought iron chairs and wooden swings on the porch, and a well-manicured lawn surrounding the long, curving driveway. The gardens in front of the porch were planted with colorful flowers, mainly roses, and there was a trim hedge around the property. The limo let Suzanne and Michael out before it pulled right into a large, enclosed garage. Several club members came out of the clubhouse to greet the new couple. Suzanne noticed immediately that they were a very diverse group. She saw people of all ages, from early twenties to late sixties, and all sizes from thin to fat, mixed racially between White and Hispanic. Were there any members of the other races, Blacks or Asians, she wondered vaguely in a corner of her consciousness, or does a club like this practice racial discrimination?

  Suzanne relaxed a little as she realized that the members all seemed to be very friendly and normal, even ordinary. Most of them acted very cheerful and welcoming. Secretly she was glad to see that none of the members present were wearing any weird black leather outfits, with shiny silver studs or carrying whips.

  A stranger seeing the group would think they were gathered for an elegant ball since they were all dressed formally in lovely evening gowns and well-tailored tuxedos complete with white tie and in some cases, even tails. As the group moved into the clubhouse, several women were chatting so cheerfully with Suzanne that she almost forgot what was going to happen inside the brick building. Almost but not quite.

  Chapter Two A Painful Initiation

  Suzanne and Michael were ushered into a large room. It was lavishly furnished in an expensive manner and with great attention to the tiniest detail. The room seemed to be leftover from another period. It should have looked tacky but instead, it had grace and charm. The walls had dark mahogany wainscoting, with plush red and gold velvet flocked wallpaper. There was deep, plush, chocolate carpet on most of the floor, with a large expanse of gleaming hardwood. Three large crystal chandeliers and crystal and brass wall sconces lined the walls of the room. At one end of the long room there was a raised platform, and at the other was a gleaming mahogany bar with brass trim. The bar was complete with bartender, a slender young man with a mustache who was wearing a white shirt and red suspenders with red garters on his shirtsleeves.

  Suzanne later learned that the door beside the platform led to a professional, modern kitchen capable of serving large formal banquets, and a laundry room complete with linen closet. There were about two dozen soft, padded and comfortable chairs with deep velvet cushions.

  The chairs were a far step up from the ones Suzanne usually found at clubs or symposiums. These chairs were definitely not the usual tacky, metal folding chairs she was used to finding at lectures, club functions or even the stackable chairs favored by some of the better hotels in their banquet rooms.

  Seeing her appraisal of the chairs, Jerry, the chauffeur, came over to stand beside her. “We like to have very comfortable chairs. All our surroundings are very nice, of course, but we need the comfortable chairs because our bottoms are usually a little, umm, tender before the evening’s over.” He grinned at her discomfiture as he walked away.

  On the platform at the front of the room there was a microphone and three plush armchairs for the host, James, and for Michael and Suzanne. Off to one side there was what could only be described as a whipping bench. Suzanne shuttered as she looked at it, chills running down her spine. The bench was about four feet long and almost waist high. It was thickly padded with plush, red velvet and furnished with several velvet straps.

  A tall, gleaming brass bucket next to the bench held several assorted canes. The canes did not look very harsh. They were just lengths of slender bamboo, of varying thickness, from very thin to as broad as her thumb. Some had a crooked handle and some were just straight. How Victorian, Suzanne thought with another shiver, remembering the books she’d read at James’ suggestion.

  There were two more padded benches in the room; they were both lower and narrower than the bench on the dais. Those two benches were on the main floor, between the platform and the first row of the chairs facing it.

  Off to one side of the dais there was a Victorian love seat. All three benches and the love seat were padded and upholstered in the same red velvet. Along one side of the room there was a hallway with several doors that, according to Michael, led to small, private bedrooms. A staircase led to still more bedrooms upstairs, and downstairs to a play dungeon and a storage area.

  “Boy! I can hardly wait to drag you into one of those bedrooms and fuck you with your bottom red and on fire!” Michael was wildly enthusiastic. “I can just imagine your pain as I pound your burning ass into the mattress.”

  At Jerry’s suggestion, Suzanne and Michael were seated in the special place of prominence on the raised platform, facing the group of about thirty club members. Just then James, the host for the evening, came in and introduced himself. “Hello, I’m James. You must be Suzanne.” He held out his hand and when she reached out her hand, he didn’t shake hands with her but instead held her hand in a long warm grasp. “I’m sorry to be so late, it’s really inexcusable I know, but I got tied up at work.” He winked, “Unfortunately that wasn’t literally, it was only a metaphor.”

  Suzanne was pleased that the man she had spoken to on the phone turned out to be as warm in person. He was also a very good looking man about thirty years old, with short, curly blond hair. He was tall, with a slender yet athletic build and the most amazingly soft, friendly blue eyes. Giving Suzanne a cheerful smile, he revealed a dimple in his left cheek before stepping up to the microphone. He started the meeting with an announcement that besides bringing such a lovely, prospective member for the club – he turned and gave Suzanne a warm look – Michael had been kind enough to volunteer to whip some of the regular members. He would do it now, before Suzanne’s initiation. Several club members, mainly women, lined up next to one of the padded benches. There was a tall brass bucket, like the one o
n the platform, filled with canes. A small, ornate table off to one side held several paddles and straps.

  The large middle-aged woman at the front of the line laid herself over the bench, and the ones in line behind her pinned up her long, peach silk dress. She wore no underwear. Michael reached into the bucket, pulled out a long, thin cane and gave her a sound whipping. It turned her full, firm butt bright red. He kept up the whipping until she pulled up and said, “ENOUGH!” Michael hesitated visibly before he gave the next person in line, which happened to be a slender young man, the same treatment. Michael continued, topping the members. Some members asked Michael to use a strap or a paddle instead of a cane, and he did as he was asked. It went on until there were no more club members waiting in line. There was a pause for a round of drinks and some socializing.

  James made another announcement and it was one that startled Suzanne, but it would not be her only surprise at the meeting. She was to be the one to administer the next round of whippings. Hearing this announcement Michael was clearly shocked. His eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak before he caught himself.

  “Don’t let the fact that they are going to whip you next prevent you from laying it on really hard, that would only make them mad!” James leaned over and whispered in her ear.

  “But I’ve never done this before.” Suzanne was almost pleading, “What if I hurt someone?” “Then that someone will just thank you and move away.” James grinned. “Unlike you, they’ve all been here before. They expect it to hurt. They even want it to hurt, just remember to stop when they ask you to.”

  Suzanne had her hands full. Many more members lined up to be whipped by her than lined up for Michael. The first person in line was her new friend, Jerry, the limo driver. She took a long, deep breath, looked at the pale, fleshy buttocks in front of her, raised the paddle he’d requested, and began to paddle him.

  She felt strange as she slashed the paddles, whips and straps down on the various bare bottoms that were paraded in front of her. There was such a sense of unreality that she hardly noticed the individuals as real people, only seeing their behinds. It was almost as though they were only disembodied butts.

  For the first few spankings James had to urge her on, pushing her to greater severity. He pushed her to use the paddle more and more harshly. She had never done anything like it before, but soon a sort of blood lust took over and she became almost ruthless. When she was done, her arm was sore and there was another small break for more refreshments. James offered to bring cocktails for Suzanne and Michael.

  “I’ll have a scotch and water,” Michael said, “but bring Suzanne straight soda water. We wouldn’t want the liquor to dull her fear or her pain!” He explained with a mean-spirited laugh.

  James gave Michael a wicked smile before he went to the bar. He brought Michael a very mild scotch and soda, but brought Suzanne a very strong gin and tonic! As he handed the icy glass to Suzanne their hands met for a timeless moment and she looked up into his warm eyes, shocked. Even with the drink she began to get very nervous and frightened, close to panic. She knew her own whipping was to be the next item on the agenda.

  “Damn weak drink!” Michael complained. “I didn’t expect to get watered drinks at a ritzy club like this!”

  All too soon, at least in Suzanne’s mind, James came up to her. With a friendly smile and a courtly bow he took both her hands and helped her stand up. Her nerves were stretched so tight that her legs were threatening to buckle, as if they would not be able to support her without James holding her hands. She finally understood why those girls were so compliant; the fear and arousal was hypnotic. She stared into James’ warm and friendly eyes.

  She was so scared, yet so mesmerized, that she hardly noticed Michael walking around behind her, and barely felt him unzipping her dress. He pushed the dress off her arms so that it slid down her sensuous body and fell in a blue puddle at her feet. Suzanne’s awareness returned as she felt the cool air on her skin, but James still held her hands. She forced herself to keep staring into his eyes as Michael unsnapped her silky brassiere, then slid her lacy panties down her legs. Suzanne was in such an emotional fugue that she hardly even noticed she was standing in front of a crowd naked except for her garter belt and stockings. She felt none of the embarrassment she had expected to feel. Indeed, she felt very little of the fear she had expected to feel. All she felt was the cool air on her skin and the reassurance coming to her from the warmth of James’ smile. She hardly saw the group of club members around her. All she really saw was James’ warm eyes looking into hers.

  James led her firmly over to the special bench, the one with the straps for her ankles, waist and wrists. Suzanne moved woodenly, as if she were in a daze. James still held her hands while Michael strapped her feet to the bench legs.

  James said softly but with firm command, “Bend over, Suzanne.”

  He kissed her hands and pulled her gently but firmly forward. Michael quickly fastened the straps at her waist, and then she realized that she couldn’t move. It was happening! Fear, excitement and arousal raced through her blood. James fastened the straps to her wrists. He positioned her so that her head was on a soft padded pillow.

  He gave her a quick light kiss on her neck and with a wink said, “Don’t worry, my dear, it won’t be so bad.” He smiled down at her. “Besides you have no choice now, you can hardly squirm, let alone move. Now all you can do is let it happen. Think of it as a challenge. See if you can endure this without using the code words, but please remember not to hesitate to use them if you need to.”

  It was true, she realized, she was completely immobilized. The only uncomfortable part of her restraint was the way she was laying. Her breasts were too large and full for her to be very comfortable on her stomach. She knew she could scream all she wanted but it would not bring her any mercy or any help. Luckily it would not bring her any extra punishment either; this was no Victorian novel, and she could end things at her will. The only things that could stop the caning would be for her to use the code word, or start to bleed or a signal from James. Other than that, every member present would cane her. She tried to breathe deeply, tried to will herself to relax. Of course she failed miserably; any degree of relaxation was impossible. “I think you need a warm up,” James said softly.

  He began to spank her with his hands, beginning with light smacks and building ever so slowly in speed and intensity. Soon her whole bottom began to feel warm and tingly. James stopped spanking her.

  He picked up the cane, held it for a long moment against her butt, and then tapped her with it several times before he raised his arm and the dreadful whipping began.

  He slashed her smooth, softly rounded ass. Suzanne gasped out loud as the cane landed. The pain intensified even as she heard the cane whistle in the air for the second cut. By the third cut her gasps became high-pitched yelps. Cut after cut, the pain grew into agony and a trace of something else. Although she didn’t realize it, James wasn’t really being very severe. After about a dozen slashing strokes James gave the rod to the next person in line.

  He was a slim, young man who gave her six or seven strokes and used the cane faster and just a little harder than James did. At each swish of the cane Suzanne flinched visibly, and as every blow landed she screamed out loud but somehow she avoided using the code word. She struggled uselessly against the straps binding her. There was now definitely something there, another feeling other than pain. It was almost a sexual excitement.

  The young man handed the cane off to the next person in line who happened to be the chauffeur, Jerry. Again, he preferred a paddle so he put the cane down and spent a few moments selecting a paddle. It gave her a short respite. Jerry paddled her about a dozen strokes smartly but almost playfully, not really very harshly. Suzanne almost enjoyed them. He put down the paddle and moved off.

  After five people had given her spankings, she began to feel tired and numb. James was watching her carefully; abruptly he gave a silent signal and immediately
the rest of the people waiting in line pulled back and the spanking was stopped.

  There was a short pause, then just as she began to relax, it was Michael’s turn. Michael gave her four final and hard, devastating blows with a large, wooden paddle. The surface of the paddle was about 10” x 4”, it was about an inch thick and there was a six-inch handle. Each blow made a loud, sharp crack as it landed. Few people failed to notice that the crack of the paddle as it landed on Suzanne’s round, firm ass was almost drowned out by her loud, high-pitched yells.

  The paddle did indeed make a lot of noise as it landed on her bare bottom but it was made of light wood, and didn’t hurt as much as it sounded like it would. The paddle didn’t draw any blood but it stung and made her already sore buttocks throb and hurt terribly.

  As Michael began to swing the paddle a fifth time, James caught his hand in a firm grip and took away the paddle. “That’s enough!” The ordeal was finally over.

  James unfastened her and led her over to the love seat. He told her to lie on her stomach while he gently rubbed a soothing balm all over her backside. Then he put a cold, damp cloth on her bottom, which was red and blotchy. After he finished tending to her he gave her a glass of cold champagne.

  “I don’t know whether to drink this or to pour it on my ass,” she quipped weakly.

  “Drink it.” James smiled. “It really does work much more effectively taken internally. By the way, your butt has a lot of very interesting colors to it. It looks very pretty.” “Gee, thanks a lot.” Suzanne sipped her champagne.

  “I want to fuck her now!” Michael said, coming over to stand beside James, “While she’s still really sore! Get in the room, Suzanne.” He pointed to one of the bedrooms.