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The Promise

By Flatfish

Becky planted a hand heavily on her husbands arm and tried to focus on him with glazed eyes. “Do you know what I really want?” she giggled, trying hard not to slur her words. “I want you to make me a promise.”

Three bottles of wine occupied the centre of the restaurant table, two empty and the other well on its way. This was their first wedding anniversary and the couple were celebrating in style.

“Anything,” said Tony. “What ever you want. Just name it.”

“I want you to promise to…” Becky leaned forward and Jim did the same. Becky whispered hoarsely in his ear. “I want you to promise to spank me.”

Tony sat back, a crooked smile on his face. Becky blushed a deep red. She felt she had waited a long time to make this request and it had taken a litre of wine to give her the courage.

“No problem,” said Tony, grinning. “When we’re in bed tonight I’ll flip you over and smack your cute little backside.”

“No!” said Becky. “That’s not it. I don’t just want a few love pats… although that’s very nice. I want more. I want to feel a real spanking. A proper spanking that won’t stop until I’ve been really punished.”

Becky’s voice was now more than a whisper and the surrounding diners were listening with intense interest to the young couple. Some were shocked, some embarrassed and other envious. Tony and Becky quickly paid the bill and hurried out.

The couple sat silently in the taxi home, the dinner conversation dominating their thoughts.

Once in the house, Tony turned to Becky. “Did you see their faces?” he laughed. “It turned a few heads when you said you wanted to be punished.” 

“I’m serious,” said Becky, swaying a little. “I want you to promise that you will spank me really hard and that you won’t stop no matter what I say or do.”

“But… But you haven’t done anything wrong. How can you be punished for nothing? And anyway, I don’t know if I could… you know… really hurt you. I love you.”

“That’s why it has to be a promise. I’m going to do something bad, on purpose. And when I do I want you to punish me. You said you would promise me anything.”

“But what if you change your mind. Shouldn’t there be a way out? You’re drunk now. You might feel different tomorrow.”

“If I’m going to change my mind then I won’t do anything naughty. If I say I don’t want to do it before I’m bad then the deal’s off. But once I’ve earned my spanking you have to do it, long and hard. And no matter if I change my mind or beg or cry. You have to do it. You have to spank me properly. You have to give me the spanking of my life. Spank me ‘till my bottom’s red raw and I can’t sit down for a week. Now promise me!”

Tony gulped and looked worried. But the intensity of his wife’s argument left him with no choice. He did say she could have anything. “Ok,” he said quietly.

Becky’s face lit up and she flung her arms around Tony’s neck. “Oh! Thank you,” she said. “I love you.”

The next day Tony left for work early. Becky was still asleep. When she awoke she started to remember the night before, fantastic sex and before that a wonderful meal. She stretched out under the sheets, a smile of contentment adding to her glow. Suddenly she stopped smiling and sat up. 

“Oh my god!” Her mind filled with panic. “What have I done?” she cried. “Now, stay calm,” she told her self. She thought carefully through the promise that she had forced from her husband. Yes she had often wanted to be spanked – in fantasy. But in the cold light of reality she didn’t want an angry husband taking the skin off her soft and tender bottom! “It’s Ok”, she thought, trying to breathe slowly. “I haven’t done anything wrong. I’ll wait until he comes home and tell him I’ve changed my mind.”

The morning passed uneventfully. Becky had taken the day off and she busied herself about the house, stopping occasionally to think about how she would tell Tony that the promise was cancelled.

It was summer and the sun was beating down. Becky was dressed in a short black miniskirt and a thin white shirt that she tied beneath her breasts leaving her well-toned waist and long legs naked, still bronzed from a recent fortnight in Greece. Her long dark hair was loose, flowing down her back and over her shoulders. She wondered into the garden and pulled open the garage door. The sunshine glinted on the chrome of Tony’s Harley Davidson. It gleamed from many loving hours of polishing. This was his most prized possession.

Carefully Becky edged down the side of the bike. She was heading for a sun lounger that she could see sticking out from a stack of garden tools at the back of the garage. When she reached the lounger she could see it was tangled in the tools. With a sharp tug, she yanked it free but the tools fell forward and a spade clattered to the floor. Becky had to crouch down to reach it. As she bent her knees she cried out in horror. Her pert bottom pressed against the Harley and tipped it sideways. She turned quickly and tried to grab for it but it was too late. With a sickening crash the bike toppled over and slammed against the ground, scarring the beautiful chrome. 

Becky struggled the bike upright and back onto its stand. She stared with mounting dread at the damage. How was she going to convince Tony that this was an accident? She had told him she would do something bad on purpose. He was going to be furious. He would be convinced that she had deliberately wrecked his precious bike. 

Becky decided on a plan to minimise the storm that was heading her way. She would calmly and rationally explain to Tony that this was an accident and that he didn’t need to punish her for it. Tony would understand and they would laugh about it. Then she would pay for the bike to be fixed.

But, what if he didn’t believe her. She had made him promise that once she had earned her spanking he had to do it, no matter what she said. Her hands moved protectively to her bottom and gently stroked the firm curves as the hopelessness of her predicament sank in.

Becky wondered into the house and up to her bedroom, thinking it might be an idea to put on some thick jeans and extra panties. On the dressing table was a polished wooden hairbrush. “Oh my God. What if he doesn’t just use his hand?” She quickly picked up the brush and went in search of any other potential spanking paddles. Ten minutes later she stood in the lounge armed with the hairbrush, a pair of rubber soled sandals, a leather belt and her old riding crop that was usually tucked away at the back of the wardrobe. She looked around for somewhere to hide the hoard. Piling them on the coffee table, she hurried into the kitchen for a plastic bin liner. Seconds later she returned with the bag in one hand and a springy spatula in the other. But it was too late. Tony was standing in the doorway looking with interest at the curious collection.

“What’s going on?” he asked, puzzled.

Becky said nothing. She threw the bin liner into a chair and hid the spatula behind her back.

Tony looked again at the collection and realisation dawned. “Ah!” he thought. “So she has done something naughty and she has collected these things ready for her spanking.”

He was surprised. He had only planned on a hand spanking but clearly she was serious about being severely punished.

“Ok. What have you done?” 

“It…It was an accident. Honestly I didn’t mean to do it. Please, please don’t spank me. I’ll pay for the damage. Your bike will be…” 

“My bike? What have you done to my Harley?” Becky could hear the panic in his voice. 

Before she could answer, Tony turned and strode out into the garden. She heard the garage door open and trembled as she heard his roar of fury and dismay as the damage came into view. 

Terrified she ran into the hallway and started to flee up the stairs to lock herself in the bathroom, still gripping the spatula. Tony burst through the front door and grabbed her by the wrist before she could reach the second step. He marched into the lounge, dragging the unwilling girl behind him. 

“This is one promise I am definitely going to keep!” he yelled. 

He pulled the spatula from her hand and threw it onto the coffee table along with the other implements. Then he sat down on the couch and with a sharp tug sent Becky sprawling face down over his knee. Becky screamed in terror. Tony pinned her in place with a strong arm over her slim waist. He raised his hand high and ignoring her pleas to let her go, he slapped it down hard against the lightly covered curve of her upturned bottom. 

This was not how she had fantasised a real spanking. Yes she was over her husband’s knee and he was going to spank her soundly no matter how much she protested and struggled. But he was so angry and already the first smack was much, much more painful than she had expected. 

Tony raised his hand again and set about thoroughly spanking his young wife. Becky cried and kicked as blow after blow landed with merciless fury on her scarcely protected bottom. The black material of her miniskirt stretched tightly over her flesh holding her well-toned cheeks firmly in place and adding to their vulnerability. 

Tony spanked with all his strength and soon the sting in his hand became unbearable. He hoped that Becky’s bottom was equally sore and judging by her writhing, kicking and crying he was getting his wish. Eventually he stopped and rested his hand. His anger subsided and intense shame over the way he had lost his temper washed over him. He would never have spanked his wife if it weren’t for that damn promise.  Still he had made the promise and now he was obliged to give his wife exactly what she had asked for. Becky lay over his knee sobbing bitterly. She reached back with a trembling hand and gently rubbed her bottom. She thought that her punishment was over. She was wrong. 

Tony looked over the collection of implements and picked up the spatula. It was stainless steel, quite heavy and springy. He swished it through the air, feeling its weight. Becky heard the sound and looked back over her shoulder with panic in her eyes.

“Oh no, please Tony. No!”

Ignoring her pleas, Tony looked down at the tempting target and took careful aim. Brushing her hand aside, he raised the spatula high and then stopped. Gripping the bottom of Becky’s miniskirt, he dragged the thin material up to her waist revealing cotton panties and the well-spanked skin of her bottom.

“Oh my God. Oh my God. No! Please! I’m sorry,” screamed Becky.

Tony’s heart softened and he was tempted to stop. But he remembered his promise. She had insisted that he should spank her until her bottom was red raw. No matter how much she pleaded. And she surely hadn’t gathered these toys together for nothing. He swished the spatula once more and took careful aim at his wife’s thinly covered bottom where the swell of her once bronze cheeks now contrasted deep pink against her white panties. Raising the spatula high he whacked it down hard, partly catching the naked flesh peeking out beneath her pants. Becky screamed and howled with each thwack!

After a few minutes, Tony paused and glanced down at the coffee table. He spotted a rubber-soled sandal. Putting down the spatula, he picked up the new implement. “Now!” he thought. “This is really going to hurt, but she wouldn’t have got it out if she didn’t want it.” 

He rested the cool rubber sole against Becky’s hot flesh. She wailed as Tony raised the sandal and commenced delivering a rapid and relentless thrashing to his wife’s already sore bottom. Becky struggled and kicked her feet, screaming and crying. She had never known such intense stinging. But at the same time she had never known such rich and intense sexual pleasure. The fire built up in each cheek as the rubber sole thwacked repeatedly and mercilessly against her bottom. When he stopped Becky’s bottom burned furiously. She was almost relived when he took hold of her panties and dragged them away from the scalded flesh and down to the middle of her thighs but her relief soon passed as Tony picked up the hairbrush.

“Please Tony,” she sobbed. “Let me go. I didn’t mean to do it. I…I’ve had enough.”

Tony hesitated and then remembered her words from last night. “…spanking of my life…red raw…can’t sit down for a week…” He had made a promise. She was clear about what she wanted. He loved his wife and she had left him no choice. He had to see this through to the end. 

Raising the hairbrush and ignoring her pleas, he whacked it down on her naked bottom with a resounding crack! Becky wailed and thrashed her legs about, bawling like a child, but Tony knew he must not be deterred. Taking a tighter grip on his struggling wife he positioned her so that he could concentrate on the soft lower curves of her bottom cheeks, now glowing a deep red. The spanking was short and ferocious but to Becky it seemed like an eternity as smack after smack rained down on her stinging rump. She was convinced that she would never sit down again.

Tony put down the hairbrush and looked over the remaining implements, a belt and a riding crop. He slackened his grip on his wife’s slim waist. Becky lay a while sobbing and then carefully pushed her self to her feet and gently placed her hands against her blazing bottom, feeling the intense heat and wincing at the touch against her stinging tender flesh.

Tony stood up and Becky’s eyes opened wide in horror as he picked up the belt. Slowly she backed away but Tony reached out and gripped her by the wrist. Then without a word he dragged her over to an easy chair and flung her face down over the chair arm. Without a pause he doubled the belt and whipped it against her upturned rump. Becky had dropped her panties on the floor and her short skirt was still pulled up to her waist. Tony lashed every inch of her blazing bare bottom.

When Tony finally stopped, Becky slowly and carefully stood up and faced him. She choked back the sobs. Her face was flushed and streaked with tears and makeup. She gently rubbed her bottom, trembling slightly, breathing deeply, her eyes brimming with more tears.

Tony felt wretched. What was he thinking to treat his wife this way? He dropped the belt and took a step towards Becky, wanting to hug her, but she put her hands up and stopped him. Silently, slowly, sensuously she unfastened her shirt and let it fall from her shoulders. Her bra quickly followed. Then carefully she eased her skirt over her blazing bottom and let it fall to the floor. Her arousal was intense. Tony gazed at his naked wife and he thought his manhood would burst though his jeans. Becky pointed to the riding crop and Tony picked it up. Then turning she headed for the bedroom.

Becky’s mind was racing. She hadn’t intended to be spanked today and she certainly hadn’t planned on being thrashed with every spanking implement in the house. The fire in her bottom was relentless and almost unbearable. But it was wonderful. This had become the most deeply erotic and exciting experience she had ever known and now she wanted more.

Tony looked at the riding crop and flexed it between his hands. He sensed that the evening had taken a new turn. This was no longer a case of giving his wife the spanking she had been promised. Dizzy with excitement, he followed her upstairs. 

In the bedroom he found Becky laid face down on the bed. She had arranged two pillows under her hips, raising her bottom and angling it ready for the kiss of the crop. Her face was buried in another pillow, which her hands now gripped. 

Tony ran his eyes over the soft curves of his wife’s naked body, slim, silky, her perfect bottom still hot and crimson from the merciless spanking. Quickly he tore off his shirt and fumbled with his belt before kicking off his jeans, boxers and shoes and socks. Now as naked as his wife, he stood beside her and rested the riding crop against her bottom. She flinched at its touch. 

He raised the crop a few inches then with a flick of his wrist, thwacked it against her flesh. Becky gave a stifled scream, muffled by the pillow. Moving down an inch, he took aim again and whipped it once more, harder this time. Becky cried out again, kicking her feet and writhing her hips on the pillows. Tears filled her eyes.  Now he moved the crop to the softest, most well spanked part of Becky’s bottom. He saw her tighten her grip on the pillow in anticipation of the pleasure-pain that was to about come. Tony lifted the crop and whipped it down hard. Becky screamed, her back arching, lifting her head off the pillow. As the pain mounted she hammered her hips against the bed and curled her legs, then bit the pillow waiting for the intense sting to subside. As she calmed down she turned her face to Tony. 

“Three more like that,” she whispered. “Quickly. One after the other.” 

Tony placed his left hand in the small of her back to hold her still and then took careful aim. Raising the crop he whipped it down hard, ONE, TWO, THREE! Three thin deep red lines arose across the lower half of her bottom. Becky went wild. She rolled off the pillows onto her back and lifted her bottom off the bed, her hands clutching the tortured cheeks. Then turning to Tony she yelled, “Now Tony. Now!” 

Tony climbed on the bed and eased himself on top off his wife. She parted her legs and he slid his manhood into her. She cried as his weight pressed her sore bottom into the bed making it sting more with each thrust. The couple kissed, bit and clawed at each other, the intense passion turning them into savage animals. Suddenly, together they climaxed.

Afterwards, they lay together, caressing each other in the post-coital glow. Becky lay face down, her bottom stinging now.

“That was fantastic,” said Tony. “But I’m glad that promise is over.”

“Oh its not over,” grinned Becky, dreamily. “This is only the beginning. I’m going to be a very naughty girl from now on.” 

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