The redhead’s green eyes flashed and her nostrils flared as she was about to offer a testy protest when she caught her husband’s reproving glance.

“You’d better not, my dear,” George Adams warned against her fretful snit.

Her face suddenly softened, her eyes looking as though she was about to cry. “But you know how I don’t like these social gatherings. And this is a whole month!”

“It’s summer, Patricia. The island is lovely. The Montgomerys are terrific people, and if you’ll just relax a bit, you’ll have a wonderful time.” He gestured broadly with a wave of his hand.

“But without you …” she stammered. “I’ll feel like a third wheel.”

“I assure you, you will not. Vicky Montgomery is one of the most hospitable people that I know. She’ll never let you feel out of place.”

Patricia eyed her husband for some moments, seeing his resolute expression not change.

“I wish I had your confidence,” she said, still feeling the agony of George’s unexpected announcement make her rigid with fear. She looked like a wilting flower, so utterly despondent. “George, I can’t. I want to stay here this summer, and I’ll go with you when your business is finished,” she tried persuading him.

“You will not,” the handsome blond-haired George replied, immovable in his decision. “And I’m not going to hear another word about it, or I’ll get the hairbrush and paddle your behind.”

She was afraid of that. As much as she sometimes loved her sessions over George’s lap, she was sure this one would be particularly nasty. She could tell by the look in his eyes, challenging her to defy him further. His mood was particularly stern this day. While part of her almost wished he’d just go ahead and spank her, the other side of her dreaded the prospect of feeling her bottom burn like the dickens.

Such had always been her dilemma. She was a woman who courted punishment while at the same time fearing it with trembling knees and a pounding heart. She’d met her husband at a spanking house party three years before. Then, George had been instrumental in her decision to leave her ruthless husband, Victor. Much more gentle and nurturing of her than her ex-husband, George was well suited to her soft nature. Yet her desire for spanking was very much a part of their marriage, both romantically, and as a means to occasionally “correct her attitude”—as George liked to put it. Fifteen years her senior, like Victor, he had a certain command of her just because of his age. Perhaps she had a need for fatherly guidance. Whatever the reason however, there would always be a submissively inclined woman and a dominant man in her marriage bed.

Though George liked the role he played, at times he got frustrated with her incurable shyness. That was obviously the dilemma facing her this day seeing how angry he was. His rugged but often mild-mannered face looked painfully exasperated.

“You’re going to put a smile on your pretty face and get out of your gloom,” he told her, “or am I going to have to give you some inspiration?”

He looked at her so sternly she was almost frightened. There was little of the warmth she normally associated with her good-natured husband. Hesitating a little too long, George answered the question for himself.

“I think you’d better go get the hairbrush, or better yet the spanking paddle.”

“Oh, no please,” she suddenly whimpered. “I’ll go. I will. I’ll enjoy myself.” She was backtracking fast but her belated efforts seemed to have little effect on her husband.

“No, it’s been some time since I’ve given you a good going over. Go get the paddle.”

“George please!” she moaned.

“Go now, Patricia. You’re only adding fuel to the fire by waiting.”

She could see that. His anger made her shudder and then scamper to the broom closet in the kitchen to retrieve the old school paddle that hung just inside the door. Returning to the bedroom, George was already seated on the bed, waiting for her to appear.

“You want me naked?” she asked meekly.

“No, I don’t think so.”

That said a lot. When he really meant business, he spanked her for nothing but punishment. There would be no sex involved and no nudity to encourage an erotic conclusion, just the paddle connecting with her behind.

“Hand me the paddle,” he said reaching out for it. “Now over my lap.”

She was fidgeting nervously, but she knew better than to make him wait when he was in such a mood. Submissively falling into his grasp, she lay over his sturdy knees, awaiting the worst.

This being strictly business, George was quick to pull up Patricia’s skirt and lower her panties. Her two gleaming pink/white mounds were a flawless canvas for what would follow. With an arm around her waist and a leg over her legs, he held her firmly in place. Then picking up the four-inch wide paddle, he began smacking her hard right from the start.

“Ouch! Ow! No!” she whimpered right off.

“You’ve gotten a little too ornery, my love,” he said, as he delivered the painful smacks of the wood. “I think you’ll be little more compliant after this is over.”

Saying little else, George let her have it. The paddle stuck hard, the blows centered on the two well-padded cheeks. Unfortunately, as fierce as he was striking her flesh, no padding in the world would keep those bouncing orbs from burning mightily. Turning from an initial pink to an angry-looking crimson, he kept up the spanking until Patricia was howling like a child and wrenching so hard against his grasp that he was having trouble containing her. Pausing he spoke again.

“So, you’ll go to the Montgomerys and enjoy yourself?” he asked. He punctuated the comment with another strike of the wood.

“Yes, yes, I will,” she replied immediately.

“And there will be no more whining?” he asked. He smacked her again.

“No, no sir!” she agreed with him.

“And you’re not going to mope around here, and try to get me to change my mind?” He spanked her hard six times so she couldn’t reply right away.

“No, no. I promise!” she shouted out as soon as he stopped.

“Okay, then. No more of this nonsense. I expect a well-behaved, good-natured wife when I join you in August.” He let the paddle rest on the bed beside him and lifted his wife into his arms. This unexpected affection warmed her heart as much as her bottom was feeling the warmth of the paddling. “And just for good measure, I’ll let Derek Montgomery take charge of your deportment.”

“Oh, no. You wouldn’t,” Patricia cried, backing away from his surrounding arms.

“Oh, yes I would,” he declared, as he kept her close to his chest.

“You’d really let another man spank me?” she asked looking sheepish.

“I can trust Derek to use proper discretion, and I think it might just be the threat you need to keep your spirits up and a smile on that pretty face.” He kissed her nose and then her lips, letting Patricia almost believe they’d end up having sex. However, a moment later, he pushed her to her feet, and stood himself. “Now, you might want to start packing. I’m going to take you to the island tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” she was aghast.

“That was what I was trying to tell you when you started to whine at me.”

“But what happened to next week?” she asked.

“The business meetings in Texas were pushed ahead. I really have no choice, and neither do you.”

She sighed, trying not to look dour. She wasn’t about to endure another punishment, even if this one was not as bad as she thought it would be. Maybe with George, it was never “as bad” as she thought it would be. As reprimanding as he could be, he never punished her the way Victor did. That ruthless mistake of a marriage was half the reason she was always so reluctant to be with people. Her first husband controlled her so completely that she was still learning to stretch her wings and enjoy her life.

 

***

 

The Montgomery’s Summer Island Resort was off the coast, sheltered by the bay that surrounded it and cooled from intense summer heat by ocean breezes. The grand white house in the center of great green lawns looked fresh, pristine and welcoming at first glance. Further acquaintance with the resort, its hosts and guests did not disappoint the apprehensive Patricia. Just as George suggested, everyone greeted her with open arms, warm smiles and holiday dispositions, which were carefree and cheerful. Of course George was still at her side to give her confidence.

“You need anything, Trisha,” Vicky Montgomery gushed, “you just ask. You won’t believe how relaxed you’ll be here.”

“I think I understand,” she replied, as she gazed about the grounds and the tranquil scene that lay before her.

“We pamper our guests into that lovely state of sensuous oblivion,” Vicky added.

“I’m sure I’ll be happy here,” she replied with a broad smile, fully convinced of that fact. Despite all her previous worries, she was beginning to relax in the amiable atmosphere.

George was triumphant, knowing that his timid wife usually eased her worries once she was finally in a new situation. He was thankful that her painful anticipation was over at last.

He stayed with her just half a day, announcing that he had to take off for Texas that evening, and couldn’t even spend the night.

 

***

 

Patricia enjoyed the luxury of Summer Island. There were horses to ride, tennis, hiking, swimming and boating on the small inlet lake in the island’s center. There were other young women her age whose company she enjoyed. She even found the attentions of several men a bit titillating.

Although George called her regularly and was warm and loving when he did, after two weeks Patricia found herself lonely for the physical affection she was used to from her very virile and sexually demanding husband. She had been retiring to bed by ten o’clock even though there was a decent nightlife on the island: some nights dancing; at other times mid-night hikes; and when there wasn’t some other activity, the lounge and bar were always open until two a.m.. Finding it increasingly difficult to handle her ever-present hunger for sex, she began staying out later with her Summer Island friends, rather than going to bed so early.

She danced, drank, smoked and even went skinny-dipping in the pool one evening with several girl friends. It was a great rush feeling the water surge over her naked skin. The idea of being so naughty seemed just the kind of thing George would encourage. He’d been trying for three years to get her to loosen up her reserve and play more. Now, she was truly reveling in the delirious highs of her loose behavior.

The night she went skinny-dipping, the three women were almost caught naked in the bushes getting dressed. One handsome young buck, Eric Downy was strolling by whistling some jaunty tune. With the moon high and full, he was able to see a lot more bare flesh than any of the women would have dared exhibit.

“My, my, what do we have here?” the dark-haired mustachioed man declared, happening to see Patricia’s pert round rear gleaming in the night.

She jerked around as she heard his voice, only to give him one quick glance at her naked breasts before she covered herself with her clothes.

“Oops! I think I’d better be going,” the exuberant Eric decided. Turning about, he whistled on down the path and out of sight, while Patricia and her friends blushed embarrassedly

 

The next day, Patricia met Eric by the pool. She hoped he hadn’t recognized her from the previous night, but she soon found out otherwise.

“You know, Tricia, you look just as stunning in the sun as you do by the light of the moon.”

She could feel her cheeks turn red and hot.

“But I shouldn’t be too upset, isn’t that part of the fun, seeing if you’re going to get caught in your birthday suit?”

“Please, Eric. I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Oh, don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. What I’d like to know is when are you going to go skinny-dipping with me?”

“Eric Downy, you know I’m married,” she replied indignantly.

“And I also know it’s summertime and a woman shouldn’t be deprived the pleasures of the season.”

“You have the wrong woman for that kind of thing,” she informed him.

“Oh, you never know,” Eric, all 200 pounds of tight virile flesh, sighed.

He had such a smooth tanned chest, Patricia was thinking as she looked at him. She had to force her glance away, and doing so she got up from the lounge and dove into the water.

 

That night, she was on her way back to her cottage when Eric accosted her in a secluded section of the footpath leading to her door. She suddenly found herself trapped between the cottage wall and Eric who was standing so close she could detect a trace of spearmint on his breath.

“You are a lovely one, Mrs. Adams,” he said with the look of a lust-filled scoundrel. Strangely, he reminded her a bit of her husband.

“Eric, you shouldn’t.”

“I don’t think you should let the summer go by without one indiscreet kiss from an admirer.”

Patricia’s heart was thumping so fast she was sure the young man could hear it. Her belly stirred anxiously, half-wishing that he’d press his groin against her, and half wishing that she could flee the uncomfortable confinement. She hesitated a minute too long, finding Eric’s soft lips were caressing hers and she was replying back.

“There, wasn’t that something to remember?”

Yes, of course it was! she heard her inner mind exclaiming.

Still knowing she should bolt away, she remained long enough for Eric’s lips to take another journey about hers, and then for him to embrace her chilled shoulders and force a long wet kiss. She replied eagerly, letting her mouth open as his did. Then coming to her senses, she pushed him back.

“No, no, I can’t. I’m a married woman.”

Eric snickered.

“Oh, I’ll get you skinny-dipping before the summer’s over,” he assured her. “Bet on it.”

He didn’t pursue her further, but walked on, whistling all the way.

Patricia shuddered as she watched the handsome Eric disappear from sight. Tight ass, hefty shoulders, just enough tousled black hair to look sexy. It was all she could do not to masturbate that night to the thought of doing laps in the pool naked with the young man by her side.

 

Patricia managed to ignore Eric Downy for several days. Sticking close to her female friends, she avoided any time alone with him and any untoward advances. However, one evening as she was on her way to dinner, she found herself joined by an eager, smiling Eric, his arm going easily around her slim waist as though it belonged there.

“How about meeting me on the beach tonight? Cool the heat?”

“You know I can’t,” she whispered her protest.

“I know nothing of the sort,” he returned. “I’ll be there. You will be too. We’ll just talk if you like. I don’t need any more than that.” He left her with a chipper grin and walked off.

 

Patricia knew she was being foolish to set out at sunset to find Eric Downy. He told her they’d just talk and the idea sounded appealing. She was smart enough to know however, that he had much more in mind than just talk. And she wasn’t sure that she wouldn’t welcome that something more. With George gone over three weeks, not returning for another two, she was almost desperate to feel the warmth of a man near her. Having obsessed on Eric Downy she knew the dangers of an ill-advised trek, but she took it anyway.

Patricia reached the quiet cove, a secluded spot just a few minutes from the guest manor and the cottages. She could hear the trees stirring and waves lapping gently on the sandy beach. On the far side of the small inlet, she could make out Eric’s distinct form. He was sitting on a rock looking out.

“See, I knew you’d come,” he said, as he watched her approach.

“I probably shouldn’t be doing this,” she said smiling.

“I know, but you’re lonely. It’s really okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”

For about a half hour the two talked, staying clear of any close contact. Patricia enjoyed the feeling of a man so attentive to her, but she still kept her distance. With a lull in the conversation, Eric suddenly popped up and began undressing.

“Let’s just go,” he said, nodding to the water. “What’s it going to hurt?”

His smile was warm and affectionate, and his body as he stripped away the last article of clothing—his briefs—was beautifully breathtaking.

She was so taken with the display that she suddenly stood up and tossed away her sundress and panties and raced down the beach on Eric’s heels, knowing she’d gone totally mad. Yet jumping into the water she felt such a delicious liberty. The only thing she could equate it to were those first few weeks free of Victor. The water bathed her sweaty skin with its cool tangy liquid, the heat disappearing—floating away like leaves drifting downstream. She swam through the waves and tossed water toward Eric and played happily for some minutes until he swam directly for her and captured her by the legs. Holding her tightly, his hands took an expedition about her body, fondling her everywhere it felt pleasing and everywhere he shouldn’t have been. They kissed full-mouthed far longer than the tentative kiss days before.

When he finally pulled her from the water, they collapsed to the beach and began making love, all the while Patricia knowing that she had to stop. This wasn’t George, this was a ne’er-do-well scoundrel who wanted her for nothing but her hot crotch. Still, she wasn’t pulling away: not as he combed her breasts with his mouth and licked salt water from them with his tongue; not when his hands found the warmth between her thighs and the wet hole at the center; not when his naked hips pulled on top of her and his cock thrust deep between that glorious womanly divide.

In the back of her mind, she was thinking of George, wishing that it was her husband in Eric’s place. The more the young man’s hips moved against her, the more she hurt with her ass pressed into the hard sand beneath her. Despite the lovely orgasmic feelings, she was about to push the young man out when their sex was suddenly interrupted by a startled voice.

“Patricia, is that you!” she heard the gruff-sounding voice of Derek Montgomery shock her back to reality. Eric quickly fell off her body into the sand beside her.

“Oh, my,” she shot up realizing that she had nothing to cover her nakedness. Seeing Eric’s penis still bobbing erect she was mortified.

Hurriedly dashing toward the rocks to find her dress, she hoped that the intruder would have the sense to retreat at the invasion of their privacy, but instead Derek Montgomery strode forward to confront her.

“Young lady, might I remind you that you’re a married woman,” he said.

Patricia gulped. Meanwhile, catching the drift of the conversation, Eric retreated to find his clothes and soon disappeared into the night, leaving her alone with the furious hotel proprietor.

“Yes, sir,” Patricia replied meekly.

“And yet you were having sex with another man!” He still looked aghast. “Right here on my beach!”

“I’m afraid I was,” she answered.

“The idea, fornicating for God and the world to see. Flaunting yourself naked. This is a respectable resort not a bordello!” The more he spoke the more furious he became. “Do you have any idea what George is going to say when he finds out?”

“You won’t tell him, will you?” Patricia exclaimed.

“I most certainly will. You’re not going compound this flagrant affair by lying to your husband.”

“I suppose not.” She felt so ashamed.

He stared at her for some time, smoldering. She could see the gears in his brain moving and she was afraid of what he’d say next. “Just for good measure, I think you might as well lift that skirt of yours.”

“Sir?”

“Yes, Mrs. Adams, George gave me the authority to deal with any misbehavior. Since you’re accustomed to corporal punishment, a good thrashing is in order. And that’s exactly what you’re going to get.”

“But, please, sir. You will tell George and I know he’ll spank me. Must you too?”

“I’ve always believed in timely punishment. I certainly wouldn’t want you to forget your lesson before your husband returns.”

“Oh, certainly, I will not!”

“Perhaps. But I’d rather do my duty.” With that the unyielding Derek Montgomery disappeared into the fringe of the woods where he plucked a slender branch from a tree. Stripping away all its leaves, he returned with it gripped in his fist.

“You know the ritual, Patricia,” he said. “Bare your ass.”

Humiliated and subdued, Patricia obeyed the stern-faced man. Turning about, she bent over placing her hands on a rock for balance. The thought of the switch slicing her behind was too much for her to bear. She would have rather have George’s belt, the paddle, his hand, a razor strap, anything, as endure this thin shoot cutting her to shreds.

She had to give Derek Montgomery credit, he was swift and thorough. Making no apologies for the ruthless reprisal, he laid the switch against her moonlit globes two dozen times—an extreme punishment she would think, though she hardly thought a thing until the reparation for her offense was over.

The switch burned hot into her flesh from the first stroke to the last. There was not one waver, not one cut lighter or harder than the others were. They were all laid on with the same steady force by a man that must have been used to punishing misbehaving derrieres.

Patricia moaned at the start and screamed in agony by the end. Her ass on fire, the two mounds wriggled like jelly, with each stripe making a sure and welted line in her delicate skin. Her feet danced beneath her in the sand as though she was walking on hot coals, though the fire was hardly in the bottom of her feet.