Abel and I live in the sort of conditions that any spanking enthusiast would call priviledged: we have the house to ourselves, its walls are thick, the neighbours are quite deaf, and there is space enough to swing a cane in pretty much every room.*
From time to time, however, we go to visit our respective parents.
This is where we get a glimpse of what other, less fortunate spankos with big families have to deal with. Zero privacy, other than in our bedroom; the walls are made out of paper,** and it’s easier to forget about real spanking altogether for a few days, than to attempt a little bit of play.
Except we can’t forget about spanking, or limit ourselves with whispering stories to each other. I mean, I guess we could, but we refuse to be limited by the circumstances.
Our recent parental home adventure was a couple of weeks ago in Abel’s parents’ house.
It was all rather spontaneous. One morning, before everybody else woke up, I was lying on the bed reading. Bottom-up, as one does; still dressed for bed in my knickers and his shirt.
Abel was dealing with his email. He must have read something exciting,*** because he walked over to me and landed a big ol’ swat on my behind.
“Take those knickers down,” he said.
“Oh?” I said. “We’re, um, not alone?”
“Don’t care,” he said. Boy, that email must have been really good.
I wriggled my knickers down, and waited to find out what he would use. A hand-spanking was out of question: the naked-skin-slapping-naked-skin noise is quite loud, even if you don’t know what exactly it is. We hadn’t packed any canes. The nearest birch tree was way out of reach. As far as I was concerned, he was stuck.
Not so, it appeared. He picked up the electric cord from our camera, doubled it up, and told me to brace myself.
Now, headspace-wise, electric cords don’t do anything for me; they don’t feature on my fantasy horizons. However, when we’re talking about pure physical side of spanking, I don’t mind what an implement is, as long as it produces the right sensation.
Or, should I say, the wrong sensation: the infernal burning, the branding pain, the flaming cuts… It was quite horrid. And, of course, I had to stay absolutely quiet throughout the ordeal: we didn’t want people to come running to my rescue, did we?
Although Abel normally insists that I stay as still as possible for my whipping, we had to get rid of the rule here: I can be either still or quiet, but not both.**** If I couldn’t yell, I had to wriggle, a lot. I enjoyed the freedom, though it took me a lot not to howl at a couple of particularly evil cuts.
The stripes afterwards were quite pretty, and I squirmed all the way through breakfast, but there was nothing to show for it only a couple of hours later. Other than our big grins, I suppose.
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* Not very high, mind you. It’s not a very big house.
** In my parents’ place you can hear the neighbour three floors up praciting her piano. Every note.
*** Which one of you correspondents has been getting me smacked? Hmm?
**** And frequently, neither.
*broad grin* Excellent! Very glad to read that Abel can be so resourceful when the need is great enough.
Am rather envious of your stripes, although perversely not of what you had to go through in order to get them…!
They do leave pretty stripes, don’t they? Especially if said miscreant bruises like a peach — A. in this case, though I’m known to bruise a bit more these days.
I’m actually growing quite fond of cords. A. made a loopy toy and a flogger out of extra electrical cords hanging around (split the cord apart, cut it down to 20 inches or so and taped them together at the bottom to make a handle) and the flogger is a particularly handy as a self-spanking(or ‘wankin’ spankin’) tool.
Er…I mean, forget I said anything about that, Abel.,
As abhorrent as it is to hear of child abuse, every since I heard of cords being used in such a manner, I think they found a way into my spanking imagination.
Cords do nothing for me either but still loved reading about this secret spanking! And love the idea of Haron sleeping in Abel’s shirt – awww! And then being whipped wearing only that – hot!
I used to find it possible not to make any noise when being whacked on the whole; when I first became active in the scene I was very repressed on this front: too many years reading cp descriptions of stoicism and not showing how much it hurt, I suspect. But gradually since then I’ve relaxed, learnt to express myself and “let it out” and now I find it really hard *not* to yelp and gasp and howl my way through a spanking! It’s like my true inner voice has been released at last
I found the shirt thing really sweet too. Ouch- electrial cords, you brave girl!! xxx
Electric cords are better than electric eels for spanking, I guess.
He said, “Don’t care”! In his parents’ house?
That must have been some email.
And on another matter, finally I can stop worrying about your 70ish year old “deaf” neighbour.
And…of course your walls are thick. You are Abel and Haron aren’t you? Would you have chosen a house with thin walls???
I was just thinking, no spanking in Soviet apartments! One more good reason to move to the West *big capitalist grin*.
Oh, how I know the week long trips to the in-laws and the lack of spanking. We occasionally get a few minutes alone, but they’re rare.
I did get to spank Sparkle behind her parents’ barn once though. In the snow, even, and with her bottom bared. It was rather hot…except for the temperature.
Boy, how I love the barn fantasy. I would be so afraid to freeze my buns, though.