Susan Kohler Novels

Excerpt From: Another Batch Of Warm Buns
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Mucho Macho Man

 

He heard people asking each other if they wanted to play, and

then saw them disappear into a bedroom. He heard the

distinctive sound of a spanking follow these disappearances. He

quietly asked the lady next to him, who he’d been chatting

casually with, if she wanted to play. He was pleased when she said

yes.

 

He was shocked when she turned to him as they walked to the

bedroom. “I don’t play very hard,” she said, “unless I’ve played a

lot. I play more for fun, and I use code words. You know, red

means stop and yellow means ease up.”

 

She said as she climbed on the bed and laid face down. “Is this

okay or do you want me over your knees?”

 

He was fairly new to spanking, although for years he had

fantasized about being spanked. He was, at heart, a true bottom.

 

The same thing happened with all the women he wanted to play

with. They all seemed to assume he was a top. He

tried to play with them the way they wanted, but it was

uncomfortable for him and the women.

 

“He is soooooo hot,” one woman said to another. “Too bad

he’s no good at it.”

 

“Something is definitely wrong,” she agreed. “No one could

look that good, be a spanko, and be so uncomfortable with the

whole thing. He asked me to play and then when we got to the

bed, he seemed reluctant.”

 

“Yeah,” a third woman chipped in, “it’s not like we dragged

him kicking and screaming into the bedroom.”

 

He left the party fairly early, and very disappointed.

Shortly after the party there was a party report on the groups

list, describing the fun and games. It was followed by another

post:

 

“I’m fairly new to the scene and I have some questions. How do I

ask someone to play? If I’m a bottom, I mean. I went to a party a

few weeks ago, and when I asked women to play with me, they

draped themselves over my lap, without finding out if I wanted to

spank them or have them spank me. What did I do wrong?”

 

A couple of weeks ago my ass, Sheila thought, this is from that

new guy last Friday. No wonder he was such a bad spanker.

She posted a reply:

 

“I’m sorry you had a bad time at your first party. You make a

good point, we should not assume whether you are a bottom or a top.

You are an adult though, and you should be able to tell the person

you want to play with what you want. Maybe it’s hard to say you

want a spanking, it can be hard for me as a woman, so maybe it’s

even harder for a man.

 

If you are the person I think you are, then I met you at the party.

I’m a switch so I would have been more than glad to top you. I

would have loved to see you drop your pants and to have your bottom

at my mercy. I would have spanked you like the bad boy you are. I

would have turned that bottom a bright, hot red. I would have…

well, you get the picture. Next time, I will. I promise. You may

regret that promise when I get my hands on you.

 

You might want to consider learning to switch. Not if the idea

repulses you of course, since we believe in consensual play, but just in

the spirit of expanding your horizons. If you tell your partner that

you’re a bottom who wants to learn to top, they will be patient and

help you learn. It’s all about giving pleasure. I only say this because

I started off as a pure bottom about 5 years ago and now there are

many men out there who would be surprised to learn that, and there

are more than a few who might wish I had never learned to top.”

 

Sheila’s reply struck a note with him. It was not the only reply

by far, but it made him take notice. He got many replies; some

not so nice, and some very hot. He was sympathized with, teased

and insulted. Some were sent off list, but most were posted to the

group list. The gist of it was:

 

“If you want to be spanked, for goodness sakes, let us know! We

aren’t mind readers.”

 

One woman simply said:

 

“Speak up next time, I don’t work for Psychic Friends. You’re

gonna get it now, Bud!’

 

He wasn’t sure if he was eager or afraid to go to the next party.

He even thought about topping, or giving pleasure, as Sheila put

it. How hard could it be to learn? He thought, the hand goes up

and down, over and over.

 

He arrived at the next party just as things were warming up.

Well, just as a few bottoms were being warmed up. He was

surprised to learn that many of the group members didn’t mind if

he watched as they played. Why hadn’t he noticed that the first

time? He realized that at the first party he was more concerned

with making a good impression than learning how to truly fit in.

That was his first mistake.

 

The group knew, of course, that he was the one who had

posted on list about being a bottom. They weren’t stupid people.

No one said anything to him about it though; they just accepted

him as one of them. He watched two women top a man, taking

turns spanking him, and using various toys: straps, paddles, a

cane and even some feathers!

 

They chatted gaily with the man and with each other,

thoroughly enjoying themselves. It was a strange but very real

sense of teamwork and camaraderie between the two women.

They were having a great time!

 

The man seemed to be able to take an enormous amount of

spanking. His bottom was scarlet and splotchy but he was

relaxed, goading them on to even greater severity.

 

“Have you started yet?” he asked the women. It got a big

response; a torrent of very hard blows rained down on his bare

buttocks.

 

Sean asked and learned that he had been slowly warmed up. He

also learned that the man had been into the scene for years and

both women knew him well and had played with him often.

 

“You hit like girls,” he said to the women.

 

Again his smart mouth got him a real response. His butt was

like leather.

 

As the two women finished with him, he introduced Sean to

the women. One was a tall, regal beauty named Suzanne, and

the other woman, a short perky brunette was Sheila. She was

about thirty, plump and curvy, but not fat. She had laughing

brown eyes.

 

“Pleased to meet you Sean,” Sheila said, “especially since I owe

you one truly memorable spanking. It happens now.”

 

“What?” Sean was surprised.

 

“Drop your jeans and get face down on that bed, and I do

mean now!”

 

The change from laughing imp to severe dom was so

swift it shocked Sean, but her tone allowed no leeway, no room

for trying to squirm out of the promised spanking. In truth, Sean

wanted no way out. He was ready!

 

He reached for the zipper of his jeans. Feeling suddenly

awkward, he lowered the pants down around his ankles and laid

himself across the bed. Sheila began spanking him, not very hard,

but with quick slaps covering the whole area of his bottom. She

was talking to him the whole time, telling him to speak out if

things got too hard or if he wanted to stop.

 

She picked up the strength and speed of the spanks, slowly but

surely. She stopped and picked up a small wooden paddle. She

paddled him sharply for several minutes. His bottom tingled, but

so far there had been no real pain. It hardly felt like a spanking at

all. He struggled to hide his disappointment.

 

“Okay, that’s enough pampering.” She reached for the

waistband of his jockey shorts. “Let’s get down to business.

Okay?”

 

At his quick nod, she pulled his shorts down and suddenly he

knew that as far as she was concerned, warm up was over.

Completely. Whap! The paddles cracked down on his naked ass.

And emphatically! Whap! Over! Oh my God, she had a strong

swing. Whap! She was vicious with the paddle. Whap! It went on

and on. Whap!

 

Suddenly she put down the paddle. In spite of the fact that this

was exactly the spanking he had dreamed of, he tensed, waiting to

see what she did next. She paused, lightly stroking his buttocks

using her acrylic nails to gently rake his enflamed skin. The

sensations were incredible. She teased him gently for short time

while deciding what toy to use next on his naughty bottom. She

decided on a heavy leather strap.

 

Crack! He almost shot off the bed, surprised at how the strap

felt. From the first, each blow was harsh and heavy, coming

quickly. There was no let up for a long time. He endured this in

silence; right, for about ten seconds he did, then he started to

gasp, squirm, and yell.

 

“Owwww! Ouch dammit!” he shouted.

 

“Ouch is not a code word,” she replied, without letting up in

the least.

 

“Son of a bitch!” he yelled with emotion.

 

“I’m nobody’s son, fella,” she said grimly, “and that’s not the

code either.”

 

“I guess that he’s not going to complain about being a top

again,” one woman said.

 

“Being a top sounds pretty good right about now,” he laughed,

surprising himself.

 

“Yeah, and remember Suzanne still has a score to settle with

him,” someone said, laughing. “He’s in trouble now.”

 

“Suzanne?” He was shocked.

 

“Does the phrase, ‘You’re gonna get it now, bud,’ ring any

bells?” Suzanne said sweetly.

 

“No. Gee, I’m sorry I can’t place that phrase,” he said,

obviously lying. “I must have forgotten it.”

 

“When Sheila’s done, I’m sure I can refresh your memory,”

Suzanne said laughing.

 

“Why wait?” Sheila laughed. “Grab a pair of wooden spoons

and we can have some fun playing percussion.”

 

It was his last warning. Soon both women were each using two

wooden spoons like drumsticks. Suzanne on his right cheek and

Sheila on his left. Those women had a real sense of rhythm, but

their competition got in the way. The drummers got faster and

faster, building to a frenzied crescendo. He let them know how

much he appreciated their effort with his yelling and gasps. He

even had a hard time staying in place. The one thing he did not

do was ask them to stop, or use the code words.