Driving on the Kambah Pool Road, Phil’s thoughts were the same every time he made this trip: how his life had gone off the rails when a drunk driver took his beautiful wife, Sandra, from him so unexpectedly. A day didn’t go by that he didn’t think of her and picture her beautiful face, blonde hair, and blue eyes. Today, that face had a dominating appearance, a preamble to Phil having his pants taken down for good, hard paddling.

A willing participant in her dominant scenarios, he was spanked regularly as both foreplay and punishment, depending on the situation. He enjoyed one and endured the other as Sandra made sure every swat hurt every time. He tried his best to make every spanking one they both enjoyed both during and after, and when it was for fun, the ‘after’ was truly incredible as he gave everything he had to someone who’d given him so much!

As his car came to a stop, he remembered the last time, once again, in his favorite position, bent over the arm of the sofa. She’d used the most brutal paddle, the one made of clear Lexan, the one in the backpack on the seat next to him, the one he’d use on himself shortly. It was the one thing he could do to feel like she was with him once again, and he came to one of their favorite spots to do it.

Though this one was foreplay, she’d come awfully close to punishment intensity, and while the paddle was large enough to get both cheeks with each swat, she’d apply the full force to one cheek at a time.

“Yeow! Sandra, please!?”

“What’s the matter, Phil? You’ve been a naughty boy and deserve to get spanked, don’t you?”

“Yes, Miss … ow-ow-ow-OWW!” he cried as one side received several increasingly hard swats in quick succession.

“That’s it! Good boy!” she said as he raised his bottom and turned to smile at her, begging for more.

They were well past the halfway point when he trained his eye on her body, twisting one way with the wind-up and the other with the release of the spring that brought the painful impact to his proffered arse. His eyes closed briefly as the pain penetrated but opened to stare at her leather-clad legs and tight undies, anticipating their removal and burying his face in her freshly shaved snatch, offering his gratitude for all she gave him.

“Owww! Holy shit!” he screamed.

“Ooo, that one really hurt, didn’t it!? Careful, sweetie! The windows are open. You don’t want the neighbors to know how you get spanked like a naughty boy, do you?” He thought of their next-door neighbor, Maddy, who always seemed to have a telling gleam in her eye when they’d occasionally meet during outside chores.

“Okay. Three more! Hard ones on both cheeks! Ready?”

“Ye … Ow! Oww! OWW!” he yelped but knew it wasn’t over yet, anticipating the cane that would surely be next, and the ‘whoosh’ through the air confirmed his suspicion.

“That was a bit more paddling than you’re used to, so only three tonight, okay?”

“Please?” he said with a look that said he wanted more.

“Okay. Six, but no more! I can’t wait to feel my Honeybear’s tongue lapping up my honey! Why don’t I take these off,” she said, slipping her undies off and kicking them away. “Just keep your eye right here on my honeypot!” she added with her finger briefly in her slit as she wound up the first stroke.

“Ah!” he cried as the hook-ended cane felt like it sliced right through him.

Five more, plus an extra for rubbing when he shouldn’t, bit into his bottom, and seconds later, his gorgeous wife was directing his tongue this way and that as he lapped up her sweet nectar. And paddling his sexy bum always produced her delicious honey in abundance.

He was glad the carpark was empty, though that would likely change on such a beautiful Spring day. He got out of the car, his backpack slung over his shoulder, and started on the trail, taking the turn on the less traveled animal trail when he came to it.

He didn’t worry about discovery in this park, which they’d frequently used for recreation and sexy outdoor play. A small section of the park was ‘nudist-friendly,’ and while he and Sandra never shared that state of dress with others, the atmosphere was one of ‘live and let live.’ Nobody cared what you got up to there as long as you kept to yourself.

The anticipation built as he walked the less-used trail to the spot that seemed tailor-made for his self-spanking ritual. He wished he had someone to do it for him, to him, but ever the introvert, he had not gone out of his way much to find that unique person, and so, relegated to spanking himself, it was better than no spanking at all.

He secretly wished his ever-attentive sister-in-law, Tracy, would take over for her sister, and she’d dropped a few hints of a kinky nature, so today he’d left a note in his kitchen for her, should she show up, telling her where he was and what he was up to. The risky action could result in either an awkward conversation or her showing up at the river ready to beat his ass.

He could hear the rushing of the Murrumbidgee River waters as he neared their favorite spot by a pool on the river’s edge. His excitement and trepidation grew with every step. It had been too long since he’d done this, and he looked forward to the pain/pleasure of a well-spanked bottom, but there was still some risk of an embarrassing discovery.

Arriving at the site, he looked around, up and down river to see if anybody was within earshot and was satisfied that he was truly alone this early morning. Playing his submissive role, despite being a solo performance, he stripped naked as though ordered to by his imaginary punisher. Feeling some of the natural apprehension about being nude and what he’s about to do, his excitement grew.

Opening his backpack, he took several items out and began preparations, his butt just itching to feel a good hard smack. First and foremost, the Lexan paddle, and he couldn’t resist the temptation to give himself a few swats before putting it down. The blanket, cuffs, locks, and chains were all brought to the large fallen tree that served as a natural spanking horse, one of the many attractions of this locale.

After laying the blanket over the log to cushion against the rough surface and putting the cuffs on his wrists and ankles, he grabbed the paddle and bent over the log, squirming a bit to find the proper position and balance. He waited a minute or two as Sandra never just started spanking him as soon as he was in position; rather, she might be scolding, teasing, or threatening him before the spanking began, depending on the mood and setting.

Finally ready, he got a good grip on the paddle, placed it on his bum to aim, drew his arm back, and let the first swat fly. It didn’t land quite right, as the first few swats usually don’t, but several more followed that landed just right, imparting the pain he desired.

He pictured his beautiful Sandra behind him, her body’s inertia and arm’s arcing swing flowing into the impact of each painful swat. He knew he couldn’t hit himself as hard as she did simply because of his limited swing. He’d heard it said that whether voluntary or not, one would hold back on spanks you gave yourself. He didn’t feel like he was holding back; he tried to put everything he had into it, but still, it didn’t hurt the way hers did. He often doubled the number of strikes as a means of compensating for the reduced force.

He tried to leave the physics and motivation behind and concentrate on paddling his bum as hard as he could, and after twenty or thirty swats, the pain was building fast. Each stroke advanced the story and soon he was gasping and crying out, especially on those swats that landed just right.

He continued using only his dominant hand as the other wouldn’t be able to deliver even that diminished intensity, and it needed to hurt. Alternating sides gave way to several swats on a single cheek, the force increasing with each swat, groaning in pain after only three or four well-placed swats. A few repetitions of this pattern left his bum seriously sore, and a finale of a dozen more, trying to make them the hardest yet was close to the feel, if not the atmosphere, of a good hard paddling from Sandra.

Putting the paddle down, he rubbed his aching cheeks, remembering how she used to love watching him groaning, rubbing his bottom, and sometimes complaining if it was a punishment that he’d been spanked good and hard for.

He’d perfected this routine over time, adding to it in an attempt to make it more authentic, but he’d also expanded it to include something Sandra never did: bondage. However, he was sure they would have gotten to it had their life together not been cut short unexpectedly.

He threaded the heavier of three chains under the log, threading the lighter chains through the ends of it before affixing those to his ankle and wrist cuffs using a special kind of lock. It wouldn’t be realistic bondage if he were able to remove his bonds, so he employed a pair of Bluetooth-enabled magnetic locks controlled by an app on his phone.

With a couple of feet of chain between ankles, he bent over the log and fastened the wrist chains as well. With the lighter chains threaded through the heavy chain that passed under the log, he was bound to the log and picked up his phone to activate the locks. Once set, his only options were to wait out the original set time or increase it.

Once the timer was started, the locks could not be opened by anyone. There was a safeguard wherein if the phone or lock batteries died, the magnetic catch would release automatically. He employed a secondary failsafe using a timed email sent to someone after a set timespan, who could cut the locks with boltcutters he kept in his pack, the ‘someone’ in this case, his sister-in-law, Tracy — another indirect attempt to get her involved in his secret game.

He set the locks for ten minutes, activated it, and settled in for the wait, his bottom throbbing with the stinging, self-inflicted pain. In his mind’s eye, he saw Sandra wielding the cane, tawse, or one of the other more severe implements she saved for special occasions. He knew she’d delight in his predicament, that even as submissive as he was, in this position, he’d have no recourse but to take whatever she dished out.

He was only a few minutes into his self-imposed sentence when he heard someone walking up behind him.

Maddy arrived at the park and recognized Phil’s car, the only other car in the lot. She’d dressed for a hike in spandex shorts, a workout crop top, and a ball cap, with her ponytail hanging out the back. She was looking forward to a long hike starting on the Centenary Trail and working her way up into the mountains, but her curiosity was piqued at the sight of his car.

She knew he used to come here with Sandra for a fun afternoon by the river when she was alive, but Maddy didn’t know where, and the park was large enough that she had little hope of finding him today. ‘Pity,’ she thought as she would have liked to ‘run into him’ in this park with its ‘anything goes’ atmosphere. They’d been superficially friendly toward each other since her divorce, and being a fitness buff herself, she found his sports-toned body quite appealing. She would have liked to start something with him, but both being introverts, the chance of striking up any kind of real friendship was dim.

Accepting she’d not likely find him, she set out on her hike at a brisk pace with a backpack for water, her phone, some snacks, and other useful items.

She hadn’t gone very far before hearing an unusual sound coming from the woods. She stopped walking, trying to localize the sound, and backtracked to a branch trail when she thought the sound came from that direction.

Just any sound wouldn’t have gotten her attention, but this sounded like something she’d heard before. More than once, she heard the sound of someone getting spanked through her neighbor’s window or over the back fence … her neighbor Phil. The first time, she wasn’t sure, but the next time, she heard his wife, Sandra, calling him a ‘naughty boy’ and telling him how much he needed this spanking. She told herself she should ignore it and respect their privacy, but something about it kept her ear trained for each painful stroke, and the more she heard, the more she wanted to be Sandra or even Phil.

She’d been intrigued by spanking before, but her abusive husband wasn’t the kind of person she’d trust enough to give him that kind of power over her. Once she’d divorced him, the intrigue grew unfettered, especially when she heard what her neighbors were up to. She felt horrible for Phil when his wife was so unjustly taken from him, but she also missed hearing the spankings at a time when she was free to pursue that interest.

That is what stopped her from walking on by, instead going to investigate the sound she heard. Putting two and two together, the sound of spanking and Phil’s car, the only other one in the carpark, she wondered if he’d found someone else to fill that need. And this time, she might even be able to see it.

She followed the sound, convinced she was on the right track as the sound grew more pronounced. It was the same sharp, staccato sound of a hard, flat surface meeting bare flesh. Carefully proceeding, watching where she stepped, she moved along the trail, quieter as she got closer, anticipating the sight of her hunky neighbor’s bare ass getting spanked. What she saw was both unexpected and shocking.

It was Phil all right, but only Phil, and he was bent over a large fallen log, spanking himself with a clear plastic paddle! She couldn’t see his face, but all the pieces fit the puzzle, and she knew it was him. She’d heard about self-spanking and even saw a video or two of women doing it, but it wasn’t something she could see herself doing. But here was the man she’d pictured in masturbatory dreams, giving himself what he could no longer get from his wife. At first, she felt sorry for him but then saw an opportunity. Would he take a spanking from her?

These thoughts and others ran through her mind when the spanking seemed to have ended. The red glow of his sexy ass was a testament to the efficacy of his actions. Paralyzed by indecision, she continued watching to see what he’d do next and was confused as she watched him bind himself to the tree using chains and locks. Once he was immobilized and just lying there, apparently wanting the feeling of bondage, again doing it to himself if he had to, she made her decision and stepped into the clearing.

“Hello? Who’s there?” Phil asked when he heard the sound of steps.

“Hello, Phil,” Maddy said, announcing herself.

“Oh shit! Maddy? Is that you?” he asked, still unable to see her.

“Yes, it’s me,” she replied.

“Oh, my God, I’m so embarrassed,” he confessed. Like Maddy, he’d seen the possibility of something developing between them, but he was sure that wouldn’t happen now. And with more than six minutes left on the lock timer, he couldn’t even get up and try to explain. “I can’t believe you’ve found me like this. I’m so sorry, Maddy!”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” she said as she climbed over the log to kneel before him and look him in the eye, his red face getting redder with the confrontation. “Have you been a naughty boy, Phil?”

Not the reaction he was expecting, but he feared she might further ridicule him and make fun of his situation. He didn’t respond.

“I know you have been! I’ve heard Sandra punishing you, spanking you like the naughty boy you are! You should have been more careful with open windows. I was astonished that night she spanked you in the backyard. I guess you thought everybody would be inside, but I wasn’t. By the third time, I was wishing I was Sandra having your sexy, manly butt presented to me for a good spanking!”

“What … what’re you going to do?”

“Naughty boys need to be spanked, don’t they, Phil? Hm?” she said as she picked up the paddle and ran her fingers lovingly over the surface, licking her lips. “Do you need to be spanked?” she asked, an unusual confidence taking over her typically meek demeanor.

“Yes, Maddy,” he said quietly, hoping he’d made the right decision to trust her.

She noticed him holding his phone tightly, so she put the paddle down and took the phone from him. After studying the screen, she quickly figured out what the app did.

“I see there’s less than three minutes left on the timer. I think we’ll need more than a few minutes, don’t you, Phil?” she said, picking up the paddle and climbing back over the log to stand behind him.

“Yes, I agree!” he said, very excited about getting a spanking from Maddy, one that wasn’t self-inflicted for once.

“Ask me, Phil. Ask me to spank you!” she demanded, handing the phone back to him with another five minutes added to the timer.

“Spank me, Maddy! Please spank me!?” he pled and felt the first, very tentative swat land. He wasn’t surprised that it hurt, as the combination of that brutal Lexan paddle and his being quite sore already made even a light stroke sting plenty.

Standing behind and wielding the paddle, she couldn’t believe her extraordinary good luck at them coming together in such unusual circumstances. The skimpy panties she wore started getting moist when she was just watching, but that tiny triangle of fabric was now soaked.

Being her first time at this, she proceeded carefully having only the reaction she’d seen when he paddled himself to judge how hard to swing the paddle, but his first painful gasp told her she’d found the right level.

“Ow! Maddy! Please!” he pled as she hit her stride, delivering swat after swat to random spots on his bruised bum.

“Oh, does it hurt, baby?” she asked in a cute voice. “You know it’s supposed to HURT, don’t you?” she said, punctuating the word with the hardest swat yet.

“Yeow,” he screamed, and suddenly, the floodgates opened.

Crying uncontrollably, he tried to sort out all the emotions that came together at once. The memory of his sweet Sandra was revived like never before by a spanking he didn’t control. The realization that cute, little next-door Maddy, with her tight body and beautiful spritely smile, was fulfilling a dream for both of them. And then there was the spanking, inadvertently more intense than all but the punishment spankings Sandra gave him, but with an element of pleasure in the delicious pain.

Maddy stopped spanking when she heard him crying. She was surprised at the genuine showing of such intense feelings and sensed correctly that memories, both fond and painful, had triggered it. Putting one hand on his back and the other rubbing his bruised bottom, she consoled him in this unusual position. When the time expired on the locks, he shook the chains off and accepted a comforting hug from Maddy as they stood in front of the log.

“Maddy, I had no idea you’d be interested in … in this,” he questioned.

“Surely you’ve caught me ogling your body working in the yard?”

“Oh! Um. No, I hadn’t. Even so, that wouldn’t mean you’d want to …”

“No, but I have your wife to thank for that! As many times as I heard her giving it to you, I wondered if she left the window open intentionally,” she said with her trademark smile.

Turning to face him, she tilted her head back, put her hands around his waist, and gave him a lingering, gentle kiss. Smiling back, he gathered her slight body in a firm embrace and kissed her passionately, feeling her melt in his arms.

“So. Do you think we’ll … do this again?” he asked when their lips parted.

“If you mean the spanking, I hope so. Would you like to?” she asked, being intentionally vague about spanker and spankee.

“Yes! Very much!”

“Good. We’ll go back to your house and discuss it!”

“You’re not going to continue your hike?” he asked, hoping he’d have a chance to give as much to her as she’d already given him.

“Oh no. Not now. Not till I’ve had my Phil!”

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Think Phil and Maddy will connect the way they're both hoping for? Will Maddy end up with a sore bottom as well? How will Tracy enter the picture? These are all possibilities splinter73 has raised for continuing his story. Remember to 'Like' and/or 'Favorite our story and Thanks For Reading!