Jess, My Favorite Spanko

 

An appreciation, by David

 

 

 

There is a part of the Internet that most of you probably know nothing about. It is called the USENET, and it existed prior to the World Wide Web. There were tens of thousands of groups, built around any interest you might happen to have. One of the larger and more active groups was called alt.binary.pictures.erotica.spanking, or ABPES for short. The darling of the group was a Texas lady named Jess.

 

Jess was special. She was bright, quick, beautiful, funny and an inspiration. She would think of an idea for role-play or a scene that any intelligent spanko might come up with, and take it three steps forward into the wild. Check out this birthday scene  she set up for herself.

 

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A Risky Scene, or How My Ass Got Drenched in Aqua Velva

 

When I was a senior in high school I went to a party, and met this nice looking young man. We danced for a while, we necked for a while, and wound up going steady for a year. Problem was, I didn't know it, but before the party he had dated my friend Karla 3 times, and she thought he was hers. Old friends since 1st grade became enemies, particularly after I mortified her in the lunchroom (teens mortify easily) by loudly announcing, “with all the advantages the cheerleaders have attracting boys, it's a pretty low class cheerleader who can't keep one around.” Rude, I know it, but I was sick of the backbiting.

 

Fast forward to today. My friends and I were planning a party for my birthday. Then we began to get devious. We decided that 4 of them would approach Karla, and say they were upset with me because I never came to the reunions. They would say that they thought some sort of punishment was in order. They would suggest that, in preparation for my birthday spanking, they would blindfold me, tie my hands and feet, and then bring Karla in to perform the honors. Of course, I would know what was going on, as did everybody else at the party. They also know my predilections. Karla didn't. But she still held a grudge from high school, and when approached, eagerly agreed.

 

I say that I knew what was going on. Of course, the risky part was that I had no idea how Karla would carry out her revenge, how strong she was, what implement she would choose, etc.

 

Come the night of the party, and I poured myself into a slinky little something that covered, but didn't offer much protection to, my anticipating ass. I didn't wear a thong, but it was a party. I couldn't very well wear granny pants, could I? So the silky panties gave me about one half coverage.

 

There was filet mignon from my father's ranch, a 2005 Domaine Armand Rousseau Charmes-Chambertin. Also asparagus with béarnaise sauce, and dobosch torte for dessert (the real Viennese stuff, not the garbage from Hickory Farms).

 

Then we had dancing for a couple of sets provided by a hot blues group from Austin. During their 2nd break, I began to hear giggling, and I knew the big event was near. Presently, a couple of my former classmates of the football persuasion grabbed me from behind, and I was soon blindfolded, and my wrists and ankles tied with silk scarves. I was carried onto the dance floor, where a chair had been set up, and Karla was ushered in. I could hear whispers all through the room. Karla sat down, secure in the knowledge that I had no idea what was going on, but that my friends were willing to betray me. She pulled me down across her lap, and said, “I bet you're expecting love taps, sweetie, but that's not what's in store from your old friend.” I put a quaver in my voice, and said very softly, “Karla is that you?” She replied, “Score one for this man-stealer.” She let loose with the 1st swat, and it was way more than I expected. I began to put up a phony struggle, careful to make sure that it was a level that she could handle.

 

She had brought a paddle with her, a little larger than a ping-pong paddle, and made of Lucite. That baby packs some punch. I was beginning to feel a little weepy as she struck the final number, and added one to grow on. But any thought that my ordeal might be over was soon quashed, as she swiftly pulled my dress up over my hips. Then she announced I would be getting the same on my panties, and the same again on my bare bottom. The crowd cheered, and she went to town. I was genuinely crying by the time the panties came off.

 

 

The evening had been carefully planned, of course. The wildcard was, nobody knew how far Karla would go. I found out she had a surprise in store for me.

 

Have you ever been pulled from the bathtub or a pool and spanked? A wet butt hurts 3 times as bad as a dry one, right? It seems, when Karla had done something particularly naughty, her mother would pause several times during the spanking and shake some Aqua Velva on her buns. Karla had come prepared with Aqua Velva in a spray bottle, to ensure even coverage. Take it from me, it's worse than water. By the time she was done, I was bawling my eyes out, and I wasn't acting a bit. As soon as she untied me and let me up, I jumped right back into her lap, buried my face in her shoulder, and sobbed out my apologies for wronging her in high school. She was surprised at 1st, probably expecting anger, but then she hugged me and told me the guy was a bum, already fat and bald with 3 kids by 2 different women he wasn't married to. Karla and I are friends again.

 

I like to make out I'm a leather butt, but I have to admit, I didn't enjoy this paddling while it was going on. The parts of my ass that aren't black and blue look like raw hamburger. But, thinking about it now, and spending this time typing it out for you…

 

I'm seriously thinking about going outside and raping a fence post.

 

Love and hugs to all, and the best ever possible New Year's,

Jess

 

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There was one implement that Jess hated, and that was the cane. She had a good-natured campaign going on with the members of the group from the UK, trying to convert them from the cane to the paddle. Here's a poem she wrote to further that effort:

 

I'm Not Only Free, I'm Easy

 

Those using the cane,

Won't be riding my train.

Have a well-polished paddle?

To your arms I'll skedaddle. 

Use a hairbrush or strap?

Allow time for a nap.

Called the English kink

But they don't have it right.

Still, it's not surprising

Their food is a fright.

Like the Brit soldier's outfit

There'll be no "Grey" about it

So grab up some oak, 

Learn a principal's stroke

I'll give you fireworks like Pollock

In a magazine layout

My rhyme scheme is breaking

It's a crime in the making

So I fall to my knees 

Where better I can tease

You to startling proportions

and timeline distortions.

Your knees will go weak

Quite unable to speak 

As you come from your toenails

and fill up a mop pail.

Pass out from the pleasure?

Sure, I'll give you that measure.

And all you need do

Spank my ass black and blue!

 

 

copyright 2012, by David, all rights reserved

 

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Four years ago, Jess and some friends were caught in the crossfire of a gang war. While trying to drag two wounded friends to cover, Jess was shot twice. She died from her wounds on January 17, 2014. She is buried in Texas.

 

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I miss you, Jess.

 

David