Spanking Blog: Adult Erotic Spanking At Its Best

If you ever frequent any of the spanking discussion boards where toys get discussed, you’ll find frequent references to the paddle-ball paddle available for $4.99 at a Cracker Barrel store near you. Love it or hate it, just about every spanko girl in the world has a strong opinion.

The trouble is, I don’t live near a Cracker Barrel, and had never visited one. Until today, when Bethie and I passed one at lunchtime while out-and-about doing errands.

First funny thing: someone in the store had hidden the paddle ball sets, by putting them on the backside of a display. You had to put your eye up to a crack and peer in, just to find them.

Second funny thing: the girl who rang me up (I bought two — in case someone needs a Christmas present) knew exactly what the paddles were for. She asked “Is that everything?” and so I called Bethie over to see if she needed anything else. The sales girl immediately started telling Bethie about all the sale stuff, and pointing to various corners of the store where there were candles and stuffed animals and other girlie stuff that was supposedly on sale. The sales girl kept a very straight face, but she had that gleam in her eye. You know the look that every brat gets when she’s trying to get another brat in trouble? Yeah, that’s the one.

So eventually we get out of the store, and home with my brand new “BC Tournament Paddleball”. It’s really nothing but a short, well-shaped piece of 3/8″ hardwood (Birch) plywood, lightly sanded at the edges. It’s a bit short for my large hand, and seems lacking in both weight and length.

As it happens, on the way home Bethie and I had one of those conversations. We’d been trying to get something done, and it wasn’t happening. Bethie asked for my advice. (Actually, this was a Mars/Venus moment. What she did was say “I don’t know what I can do differently in order to get this done.” If you think that’s not a request for advice, it’s possible you are a woman.) Anyway, she didn’t like the advice I gave her — consisting of the man-style things I would do in her shoes. So her response was a slightly heated suggestion that I do it, if I was so full of good ideas on how to do it. Since (view from Mars) she’d asked me for advice, and then been ungracious when I gave it, I was a smidge disgruntled.

Only a smidge, though, because I remembered my Mars-n-Venus — and my new paddle. Once we got home, I lured Bethie into the bedroom with a Cracker Barrel chocolate covered cherry. Then I pulled out the paddle ball paddle, removed the ball, and bent Bethie over the bed for a few quick swats.

Imagine my surprise when she began squealing and leaping forward and twisting around! Through two layers of clothing, no less — and she was more animated than she’s ever been when getting a few quick ones. To be fair, she might still be a little sore from her big spanking — but this was still a remarkable reaction.

It gets better. While I’m standing there admiring the paddle, she took down her pants and panties to rub her newly-sore bottom better. Yes, that’s every bit the invitation it seems.

So I start spanking her bare bottom. Light swats, no particular vigor. WOW! She’s all over the bed, twisting and squealing and complaining. Before long, she’s got a faint rosy glow to compliment the few remaining fading marks from Friday. When I let up, she’s feeling her bottom with both hands and complaining bitterly that it’s on fire. She hates the new paddle — or so she says.

Me, I think I’m rather fond of it. My new theory: if every man in America had one of these, it would do wonders for the gross domestic tranquility.