Setting the Stage
The Triple Header was a new concept being explored by Ron and Betty. The couple has had numerous adventures together, sometimes of a nautical nature, occasionally while camping, and there have been those business trips enlivened sometimes by Betty’s sudden appearance at what had until that moment been a very lonely hotel room for Ron.
Betty and Ron have had interesting experiences aboard an ocean-going ferry and in a sea shore park in Nova Scotia. From time to time they have managed a day or two at the fabled Shore Hotel in Toronto.
As everyone knows, they first met on a message board, one that involves stories and threads about “This thing they love to do,” and their adventures moved on from there.
The Triple Header seemed to be a perfect way to celebrate Christmas, and the warmth of the holiday season. If they could not share the experience during the holiday season, they could do so in fantasy, saving the reality for the first opportunity.
Back from dinner at their favourite Greek restaurant on Toronto’s Queensway, Betty was still feeling the warm glow left from the rather serious pre-dinner spanking. Shortly after arriving in their room, and ‘getting settled,’ Betty turned to Ron, and, eyes cast down, said, “I think I’m in trouble.”
“Remember just after we attended that conference for writers? I wrote to you, ‘I’m a failure. I’m over thirty, and can’t handle my own finances…’ And I really meant it. That was the way I felt.”
“Didn’t I tell you that you are not a failure? That you have been, and are, very successful as a college instructor? That you have achieved hard-to-get certification in the computer field? That your musical ability has enthralled many? That you are wonderful mother whose kids adore you?’
“And if memory serves me, I reminded you that you had been successful in your application to graduate school?”
At that remark, Betty blushed. ‘When had she last completed a course?’ “Yes, Sir. You did mention that…”
“Are you a failure, Young Lady?”
“Well, I guess…..No Sir. But..”
“We’ll take care of the butt later. Everyone who is not rich has financial problems to deal with at times. What this is all about. I think, is you are feeling down about yourself again. Right?”
“Ummm, Yes, Sir.”
“Because I love you, and know you, and understand you, most of the time*, I know you are not a failure, but a successful, attractive and talented woman. Got that?”
“You understand, Young Lady, that thanking badly about yourself, putting yourself down is totally unacceptable behaviour, and has consequences?”
“And you understand what the consequences are, and accept them?”
“Yes, Sir. The consequences are an old-fashioned spanking, and I’ll accept it, because I need it.”
“You certainly need it, my dear, but do you want it?”
“I need to be reminded how serious it is to think badly of myself, and I want my spanking. May I lie over your knee, Sir?”
Of course Ron was willing to grant permission, but, understanding the importance of anticipation in the spanking process did not take her over his knee immediately. “Yes, dear, you may do that.” He glanced at his watch. “In twenty minutes we’ll start getting you ready for your spanking.” Betty nodded, knowing the routine when a serious spanking took place. Taking his time, Ron first moved the armless chair from the desk out into the room, then picked up the ice bucket and went to the lobby for ice, while Betty waited, knowing what was going to happen, and wishing they could get started. This waiting was agony.
A couple of minutes later, Ron was back, and Betty was still standing near The Chair, fidgeting, standing on one foot then the other. The butterflies and tingling had started. Ron checked the time again. “Why don’t you sit down dear? You have fifteen minutes still before your spanking.” He put an ice cube in a glass, and added a dollop of the Glenlivet**.
Sitting down on the armless chair, Ron took a sip. Pretending to ignore Betty’s nervous anxiety, he said, “Too bad you have not acquired a taste for single malt whisky***, dear. Would you like a glass of white wine?”
“No, thanks. I’ll wait until dinner to have wine. I’m feeling too nervous now…”
“No need to be nervous, Betty. Just try not to think about having your panties taken down. Nothing to worry about for twelve minutes, dear.” He reached out and gave her bottom a loving pat.
Twelve minutes! An eternity. After what seemed like forever, and at the same time like no time at all, Betty watched as Ron checked his watch, nodded to himself and drained the last drop from the glass before putting it down. “Time for your spanking, Young Lady. Come here please.” Betty took the necessary couple of steps, and stood close to her partner. The familiar routine began. She helped Ron undo the stiff top button of her jeans, and waited as he pulled the zipper down, then opening the front of the denim garment, slid the pants over her hips and down, letting the jeans drop and gather about her ankles. No sense wasting good spanks on heavy material. Arm around her, Ron drew Betty close to his right knee, gave her an affectionate pat on the panty-clad bottom, and said, “You know what to do, dear…”
“Yes, Sir,” and in a moment she was draped across his lap, bottom raised, head and feet down. Ron hugged her to him, and she responded to the warmth. After the hug, a few pats of encouragement over her thin panties. Betty enjoyed this part of her spankings.
“Let’s get these panties out of our way dear…” Gently and slowly Ron slipped the panties over the mound of her pretty bottom and drew them down to mid-thigh. “There!” he said having prepared her bottom. Betty had helped, without being asked, she had lifted her hips to make the final preparations easier for him. She liked knowing that he enjoyed what he saw. A few more pats, the first moment of bare hand on bare girl, savoured by both. Ron pressed his hand firmly into her softness, and said, “Now, Young Lady, are you sure you want this?”
“Yes, Sir… very much.” Another close hug.
“You know this is a real spanking, not play?”
“Yes, Sir, I earned it.”
“Good. Now, Young Lady, will you try and think positively about yourself after this? You won’t want another serious spanking, I’m sure.”
Betty’s answer was not exactly definite. “I’ll try hard, Sir.”
“Alright, then. Let’s get started.” Betty gave an enticing wriggle that elicited a couple of extra pre-spanking pats.
“Be brave, then dear. Here we go…” And with that he spanked her bottom for her. For twenty minutes she lay there, held closely while the stinging spanks were applied, left, right, centre….randomly…sometimes rapidly, sometimes long pauses between spanks. From time to time he checked to make sure she was comfortable, but paying attention to her spanking. When he knew the sting was pretty bad, he would pause for a moment, massaging the worst of the sting away. Often a spank turned out to be a love pat instead of a smack. Finally Ron was satisfied that Betty had been thoroughly spanked. Her tender cheeks were deep pink all over, from the beginning of the valley that divides the luscious mounds to the crease where bottom curves meld into thighs. Where ever he placed his hand, Betty’s silky skin was quite warm to his touch, and, perhaps most important, he noticed his palm was red, warm and stinging, so knew her adorable behind would be feeling the same.
Among the thoughts they had shared was the rather pleasant idea that spankings are shared, no matter who spanks whom. A bare hand feels each spank that lands on a bare bottom. The force is the same. Long ago, for a birthday, Ron had purchased hairbrush for Betty. On the wooden back had been engraved, ‘I love you, Betty,’ backward. A good ‘Swat!’ from the brush would leave its red imprint, with the message a temporary tattoo in a lighter shade of pink. The idea of the brush was to finish off a serious spanking, since a punishment should be more physically painful for the recipient than the person giving the spanking. For the last smacks Ron’s hand would not suffer, and the effect of the brush could be pretty intense. In preparation for a serious spanking, Betty had brought the brush and placed it in readiness.
“Almost finished Young Lady…Ready?”
“Yes, Sir…” She knew what was coming. “The hairbrush is ready for you…” For a moment she clenched her stinging cheeks, but relaxed again. A comforting hug, then she sensed he had picked up the brush…. “Smack!” She tensed for more. There were none.
“All finished, dear. Time for dinner!” Ron pulled her panties back up after a quick kiss to make each cheek better, and helped her up. There was no time for other activities right now, if they were to make their reservation time. But they both knew there was lots more to come tonight, and smiled at each other as they left for the restaurant. Dinner was pleasant, as always, and the middle aged waitress who drive a current model Lexus was as attentive as ever. The food was excellent, so was the wine, and they chatted happily, not talking about it, but knowing this was the night to try the Triple Header. Their private Christmas party. Of course Betty had a little difficulty sitting still on the hard chair, but managed it At last they were finished, and returned to their room.
It was time for the Triple Header. Lights turned dim, they enjoyed a night cap, now dressed in their bedtime attire. Betty had selected a very short and silky red nightie which gave a wonderful idea of the girl it partially covered. A pair of pink silk panties completed the costume. Ron had hesitated between pajamas and jockey shorts, finally opting for the latter, since they would permit more of the physical contact, e a major part of the triple header. They would also serve at preparation time. He remembered feeling sorry for a Plantagenet king who, because of the female dress of his day, never had the pleasure of taking down a pair of panties as the prelude to a spanking. The Medieval monarch had missed one of the great delights of sensual spanking.
While Ron looked at his tantalizingly dressed partner, her luscious curves much in evidence, Betty leaned over her bag to retrieve her notebook. Ron’s heart rate increased as he saw the lower cheeks of his adored peeking out of the pale pink panties as the skirt of the nightie rode up… Betty held up the book for Ron to see the title. “Naughty Girl’s Note Book” it said. Betty opened it and consulted the first page.
“We did that one already,” and she drew a line through an entry, then rubbed her bottom. Ron wondered if he should offer to help… Betty seemed to be concentrating on the page, and then her face lit up, “How about this one? ‘Wrote a mushy response addressed to Ron after his story about French fries on the ferry from St. John to Digby.’ I think that comes under the heading of ‘Public Displays of Affection,’ okay?” Ron agreed that was appropriate. “We’ll check it off after my spanking. Now, we need another one…” She seemed to be running her finger down the page, reading entries as she went… She seemed to be taking quite while to make up her mind. One item seemed to keep catching her attention, and she appeared to return to it frequently, though Ron could not be certain. He knew there were several pages of ‘errors’ so it should be easy to make a choice. At last she seemed to…”Maybe we should get this one out of the way…Here’s what I wrote: ‘Still haven’t submitted my essay on justifying the course outline I proposed to my academic advisor..’ Will that do?”
Ron made a mental note. In spite of advancing years he can occasionally remember things, especially when pretty Betty’s lovely lower curves and softness are involved. “That one sounds serious, Young Lady. Didn’t we decide a Triple Header was to be strictly pleasure spanking? I’m not sure… You’re supposed to enjoy this…”
Betty grinned. “All spankings with you are fun. Even serious ones. I enjoy them, even if they hurt. I think this is it.” Of course Betty, being quite manipulative in getting what she wanted while appearing innocent, had some ideas. She knew Ron well, and how much he cared for her. “Maybe a very long spanking, not a very hard one?”
Of course Ron grinned at that, knowing exactly what she had in mind. Only a few behaviors were taken seriously, by both of them. Most serious was putting herself down. That was originally her idea, and she had requested a long, hard spanking for that shortly after they met.
Ron had agreed, but was worried by it, yet wanted to give her what she wanted and needed. It had been hard to prepare for and to administer, but had ended up with wonderful mutual comforting. From then on, serious spankings occasionally happened, but always had a happy ending, sometimes immediate, sometimes a little later, but they happened. Still, there was no question that there was serious sting with a serious spanking. It looked as though Betty had figured out how to keep the sting to a comfortable level.
The idea of very long spankings had been under discussion for some time, at moments when the two, separated for various reasons, had to rely on cyber talk and telephone contact. Ron had ‘threatened’ to keep Betty across his lap with panties down for a full half hour, and occasionally they had discussed how that would be. The idea was that the length of the spanking would reduce the intensity of the smacks. The only time they had attempted this in an r/l situation it had been what might be described as a ‘comfortable’ spanking. Lots and lots of pats, quite a few stingy, but not serious spanks, and the occasional sound Smack! to keep her attention. In between spanks there was lots of caressing, stroking and rather intimate touching. It turned out that Betty, comfortable with her head on a pillow, eyes closed, spent more than the planned half hour in spanking position. Nether she nor Ron knew exactly how long. since both, comfortable and content together, had fallen asleep… While there had not been occasion for a *very* long spanking since, this was definitely a successful practice to be retained in their repertoire. The next advance, still to be tried, was the threat of a full hour across Ron’s lap, with no climactic occurrences permitted until after the spanking had been completed. “I’ll go along with it then, Betty, but it will be a very, very long spanking. An hour at least, bare bottom across my lap. Will you accept that?”
“Done!” said Betty, putting a tick mark beside the entry in her note book, and another beside, ‘mushy response to French fries…’ “We’ll cross them out after my spankings are finished.”
“Are you sure you can take an hour over my lap?”
“I’ll try. Promise to start over if I fall asleep?” She grinned. Obviously the prospect did not have her scared.
Ron began to think Betty had forgotten about the Triple Header. Maybe… “Alright, Betty, let’s get started.” Pleasure spankings always took place on the bed. Ron with his back to the headboard, legs stretched out, Betty across his lap, hugged close, body supported by the bed, tummy and upper thighs raised by his and in delicious contact, bottom invitingly raised. A pillow was provided for her head. No need to be uncomfortable during a spanking. Usually Betty got herself into position quickly, almost at once feeling comfortable and already a little damp. Ron got settled, and patted his thigh. “Come on now..” But Betty still stood beside the bed, notebook in hand.