St. Patty's Spanking Party

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

What better way to celebrate than a St. Patty's-themed spanking party!?



Alright, perhaps March weather necessitates a bit more shelter than the lovely beach scene depicted above (from Februs) -- but don't you just love the look on that girl's face? :D

This past weekend I attended my second SCONY party! You can read, here, about my first encounter with the Spanking Club of New York -- it was truly a pleasure to return! =)

Equipped as I was with an adequate supply of green-tinted attire (not wearing green to a St. Patty's spanking party is like walking right into a spanking!), I still could not manage to get away with anything less than five spankings that night, at the hands of five separate spankers!


One of these fine gentlemen, you'll remember, had detailed to me a 500-word essay only weeks before -- an assignment which I completed in record time and even then, at 3-times the word requirement! (Or so I thought!) If you are curious as to this essay's contents and origins, you can read it here. :D

I had thought, upon submission of my essay, that, if anything, he may be slightly peeved at having to read so many words... Not the case, ladies and gentleman. In fact, allow me to quote for you from his particularly foreboding email response:

"In all, the essay was delightful and I thank you for your clearly detailed efforts that resulted in such a completely and utterly enjoyable piece of reading material.

However, and all that said,... In your essay, only 217 words addressed the assigned issue.

Alas, for you, this well short of the prescribed 500.

We will 'talk'."

What?? You can imagine, dear readers, my utter surprise! I should have known something like this would happen!!

And "talk" we did -- He allowed me plenty of time to acclimate (both mentally AND physically :D...) to the party atmosphere, and then, near the close of the evening, finally approached.



"We have something to discuss."

*gulp*


As I put down my water, he took the lead and steered me to the nearest open cubicle -- made up of tarp and plastic frames, these make-shift privacy cubes lined the walls of the room, each equipped with two chairs inside.

He had me sit first, and stood over me, arms folded, reminding me why this "discussion" was necessary. With particulars out of the way, he ordered me up, sat down himself, and got right down to business.

"Why are your pants still up?"

I must have turned five-thousand shades of red :)

A year ago, dear readers, I would have been positively paralyzed -- I still remember the first time someone (a lovely gentleman whom I met across the water, no less) told me to take my pants down myself... I got as far as putting my fingers on the button, but then he had to get up and do the rest for me, all the while sparing no words about what happens to naughty girls who don't follow directions...

This time, with a little more practice in me, I was able to manage it with only a small hesitation, and almost immediately found myself over his lap, jeans around my knees.

My panties came down, and he started spanking -- by then I was already sufficiently "warmed up," from several other similar encounters through the night, so it pretty much started hurting right from the very beginning!

"How many words was your essay supposed to be?"

I am already squirming. "500, Sir..." It is still so hard to make words come out of my mouth when I am bottom-up, bare, over someone's lap...!

He immediately stops and leans over me, his voice direct and commanding, "Speak up so I can hear you."

"500!" The spanking continues, harder.

"And how many were actually on topic?"

"217, Sir!"

His hand doesn't stop as he goes on to tell me that, while I write very well and he enjoyed reading, I would do better in future to mind his instructions more carefully...


"So, we already know you are good with words. But how are you with numbers?"

Oh nooo!! Math! Spanking and math do not mix!!

"How many words short were you?"

Luckily, dear readers, I had pre-calculated this sum, in the off-chance that he should happen to ask at this very moment, when the last thing my mind is capable of doing is any kind of mathematical acrobatics -- It still took me a moment to recall, however, with my bottom on fire, and knowing full well that a wrong answer would be even further detrimental to my current predicament...

"Two hundred.... eighty-three, Sir?"

"Correct. Just be glad I'm not giving you 283 whacks."

Eeeep! Yes -- yes Sir, I am very, very glad!! Thank you! I promise, next time, you will find the minimum word requirement, and beyond -- even if it takes me a whole novel!