"I'm not going!" Brett announced.
Kyle's pretty brunette bride stood in front of his desk with an adamant set to her finely carved jaw. She was so charming when her temper flared, Kyle thought with amusement. Her dark eyes brightened with an animalistic flurry, they would soften in an instant; though right now they could be intimidating to some one that didn't know her.
"I thought we had it all worked out," Kyle answered back, smiling.
"You know how I feel, Kyle, this is a personal matter," she implored him.
Of course their spanking fetish was a personal matter, but he also knew his wife and business partner very well.
"It's just your nerves darling. These last two weeks have been harrowing; we both could use the break. Do we have to go through this again? I thought I'd heard all your arguments."
"But a spanking party?" Brett winced as she said it. "It seems so . . . so sleazy?"
Kyle chucked. "You've always wanted to go to one. How many times have we fantasized about having an audience? How many times have you implied that you'd like another man spanking your bottom while I watched? I can't think of a safer and more exciting way to get everything you want. Besides, we've been over this, Phillip Heath's parties are the best. Private, classy, away from it all. Perfectly discreet. Listen, I just talked to him today; he has quite an agenda lined up. We can participate in as much as we want, or as little. We can do nothing but watch if you want, see if it appeals to you."
Kyle could tell by her expression that Brett was digging in for a full fledged protest. He sometimes loved her like this, added lots of sparks to their relationship, but it could also get exasperating.
"Brett, we need a break, and this is just your cold feet getting in the way."
"You really think it's what we want?" she continued to hedge.
"Playful, fun, how can we miss? You know Phillip and Janice. Take a chance!"
"A chance? I take chances everyday of my life," As private investigators Brett's statement was quite true. And the two had taken quite a few chances in the last two weeks.
"A different kind, a safer kind," he reminded her.
"But . . . ." Brett's face was still scrunched up in a petulant childish way, her voice beginning to rise into a whine.
"If I didn't know you so well, Brett," Kyle said, "I could be accused of pushing you, but you know as well as I do that you want to go."
"But . . . ." she tried again.
"Maybe you need a reminder," he said sternly. "A few good smacks on your rear should help your memory."
"Oh not now! We have a client due in fifteen minutes."
"Just enough time," Kyle announced. He'd made up his mind. "Go get the paddle."
Kyle kept a ping pong paddle at the office for just such occasions. It hung on the wall with other sports equipment, two wooden tennis rackets, a polo mallet, a baseball bat, all pleasant reminders for Kyle of his college days. As part of the innocuous decoration, the ping pong paddle took on a very different purpose when Kyle saw fit. Sometimes, when he didn't have the opportunity to use the paddle on Brett's rear because they were in the midst of business, he'd just lay the thing on her desk to remind her of what was going to happen when they got home.
The tension in her now was horrendous. Brett wondered if a good spanking might serve a useful purpose, despite the fact that it came at a very inopportune time. Deciding to relent, Brett pulled the paddle off the wall. She hated the way it would sting her rear; but she had to agree, her peevishness had certainly earned her the trip over his lap. Returning to her husband's side, the brunette pouted nastily.
"You're too pent-up, I can see that," Kyle advised her. He knew she'd be peaceful as a lamb when it was over, and for that she'd be grateful for this brief interlude.
"Pants down," he ordered.
"That too?" she whined.
"C'mon now, we got over that two years ago," Kyle reminded her ….
… Brett reluctantly and pushing her to her knees, Brett presented a naked bottom to her husband, and his ping pong paddle.
Sometimes he took her over his lap, other times he enjoyed the moment having her bend over a chair; for this occasion it was over his desk, reminiscent of their first time. Too bad they wouldn't have time for their favorite activity afterwards. Nonetheless, Kyle decided that this was the best thing for both of them.
"Please, don't make it hurt too much," Brett pleaded.
"Oh, c'mon now, that's the point. A good burn on your butt will do you lots of good." The ping pong paddle came down on her bottom with one firm smack.
As much as she wanted to cry out, Brett knew she had to remain somewhat discreet in their office; the sound of the paddle against her bottom was bad enough.
Another smack on the other rear cheek, and Brett could hardly stand the instantaneous sting. In what had to be one of the quickest flourishes, time was of the essence, Kyle ripped off a good two dozen more, each firm hard and blush raising.
"Oh gawd!" she moaned. The burn was fierce.
"You need to remember how much you love this, my darling," Kyle said.
"No, I don't," Brett instantly retorted.
"You will afterwards." The paddle continued, steadily and evenly.
"Then let's stop now," she grunted, accepting another two.
"Oh, you want to quit too soon." He laid one right on the very middle of her bottom.
"Gawd, Kyle, I can't stand this." She squirmed as if she was going to get away.
"You've stood much more," he reminded her.
"But our clients," she moaned in a none too quiet whisper.
"Oh, wouldn't that be fun, let them know you've been a "bad" girl." Her bottom was glowing red. Kyle smiled seeing Brett's lovely round cheeks as bright as the blush on her flushed face.
"Kyle please!" she spoke sharply, trying a direct demand. Just like that first time Kyle spanked her, Brett could have wriggled away; but that was never part of the game, she always remained in her place no matter how hard the spanking got.
"Ouch! Damn! Stop!" Her cries were becoming more bold, despite her desire to contain the noise.
"That should do you for awhile," Kyle said at last. "But I am going to spank you more tonight," he advised her. He laid the paddle on the desk and moved in against his wife's backside, slowly grinding his groin against her fiery ass.
"Sure did get you aroused," Brett said, noticing the hardness in Kyle's pants. Her warmed bottom was making her hot.
"Always does, honeybun," he purred, kissing her along her neck. "So, what about the party?"
"Oh, let's go," she replied, moving with him in an erotic tango. "You don't suppose we would have time to . . ."
Her question was interrupted by the sound of the outer office door opening and closing.
They groaned together. "Guess not," Kyle said, reluctantly pulling himself away from his wife.
"You'd better cover your ass," he suggested. "I'll go meet the clients.
He winked at her as he left the room, watching Brett struggle to make herself presentable again.