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Have Paddle, Will Travel

By: Rollin Hand
Published By: DT Publications
Copyright: Copyright � 2013 Rollin Hand.
8 Chapters / 26,675 Words
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When entrepreneur Colin Masters launches the Acme Paddle Company, he has no idea what he is getting into. Based upon the popularity of new and popular mainstream entertainment featuring spanking as both a disciplinary and erotic activity, the Acme Paddle Company is founded and sales explode through the roof. But Colin is a one man company, and that means that not only do marketing and production fall to him, but he must make personal sales calls, both to deliver and to demonstrate the products. And that is where the fun begins.

Welcome to the world of Colin Masters and his Acme Paddle Company. This volume is over 25,000 words and contains three separate multi- part stories, in all 8 chapters of erotic spanking action.

In The Acme Paddle Company Colin makes a house call on a college sorority looking for a way to instill some much needed discipline in both the pledge class and the sisterhood. The sorority pledge mistress, Kirsten Chambers, has grounded a few pledges who will be subjects for a demonstration of Colin's wares. But what about the lovely pledge mistress herself-especially when she notes that Colin has brought along a few samples from his erotic line?

In The Return of Acme Paddle Colin receives an urgent request from Edith Fontaine, a wealthy widow who is at her wits end with her two granddaughters, Tanya and Brittney. Colin answers the call and finds himself pressed into service to demonstrate the punitive efficacy of hand crafted custom made spanking paddles, much to the dismay of the lovely granddaughters. The way the girls are taken in hand by the handsome Mr. Masters is not lost on Emma Pearson, the widow's attractive young secretary, who harbors some secret spanking desires of her own.

The Acme Paddle Company at School finds Colin Masters headed for the Hawthorne School for Girls, a remotely situated academy for young ladies with few eligible men around. The teachers and staff are all delighted to see Colin, having heard about the company and its dashing owner. And all are keen to have him demonstrate his wares-so much it seems, that they don't want him to leave. From the perky girls' sports coach to the lush red-haired school nurse to the headmistress herself, everyone is fascinated by Colin Masters and his custom spanking paddles.

The Acme Paddle Co.

Part 1

 

Kirsten Chambers put on a figure hugging skirt that ended a few inches above her knees. A white silk blouse accented by a pearl necklace completed the ensemble. Then she regarded herself in the mirror. That’s the look she was going for. Very professional. Very adult. At five foot seven and 120 pounds, all of it nicely distributed, she turned a lot of heads at Desoto State University, but this evening it wasn’t about being sexy. She could have gone out with her sisters to the Alpha Tau Omega party. They wouldn’t be back until midnight. After all, it was Saturday and the ATO’s had invited them all. But not tonight, she sighed. She had a job to do and she took it seriously, just like her studies.

�In fact most everyone thought Kirsten was too studious, a grind who hit the books constantly to the exclusion of everything else. She almost never went out, choosing instead to apply herself with a grim determination to make all A’s at any cost. Wearing her almost trademark black rim glasses, her long blond hair pinned up into a bun, she looked like the nerd librarian who was smoking hot but didn’t know it. So, ready for the meeting, she did an about face and exited the bathroom. The salesperson would be here soon, that is what the girl on the phone had said. She had to admit, this sales call would be a little strange. But she and the rest of her sorority sisters felt it an absolute necessity. They had to find a better way to manage their pledge class, and soon.

Kirsten reflected on how it had come to this. For some time now the old standby of bygone years, the sorority paddle, had been retired. Nobody did that anymore. It was juvenile and anachronistic. But then, gradually it seemed, it came back into vogue. Under the radar, of course and on the QT. At Desoto it was the KATS who had reintroduced the paddle. First used in the traditional way for the pledge class, it had slowly crept in as a behavior modification tool for the actives too. There were periodic grade reviews and Kirsten had heard that even the actives got swats if their GPA was not kept high enough. It became a real inducement to study. Other sororities had followed suit or were considering it.

 

That had happened because suddenly, the competition between sororities had rekindled. They competed fiercely for grades, in sports, in artistic activities, in charity work. And they didn’t like each other much. It became a point of pride, especially with respect to their arch rivals, the KATS, the Kappa Alpha Thetas. They just had to at least beat the KATS in point totals for the Pan-Hellenic trophy at the end of the year. They’d made it a crusade.

 

The Phi Alpha Deltas had, therefore, made a decision. If this was what it took to beat the KATS, they’d do it. If they had to discipline themselves to stick to the books by taking swats from their sisters when they slacked off, then so be it. So they had pulled the old ceremonial paddles off the wall. A few brave souls had volunteered, just to see what they were letting themselves in for. The results were not good. Those paddles were nearly two feet long and an inch thick. They were made of some hard and very heavy wood. Even a few swats produced black and blue bruises that took weeks to go away. They couldn’t subject either themselves or the pledges to that treatment.

It was Kirsten who had noticed the online ad from, of all things, the Acme Paddle Company. It sounded like a place where Wile E. Coyote would place an order for a safe or something, to drop on the Roadrunner. But late one night, trolling the internet, Googling “paddles,” there it was. And the best part---it was a local company. Right here in town. It had been a bit embarrassing making the call, asking the receptionist if they did indeed make spanking paddles, but the receptionist did not miss a beat and matter-of-factly told her they did indeed and set her up for an in-person sales call.

So Kirsten prepared to meet this salesperson, whoever she was. It fell to her as part of her job, for Kirsten was the Phi Alpha Delta sorority vice president and therefore pledge mistress for this school year. And that is why, instead of being out at the party this Saturday night in late September, she waited at the Phi Alpha house for the person to appear. She wasn’t alone. With her were several pledges who had received early warnings about grade trouble. They had been confined to the house on order of Kirsten.

“Girls,” Kirsten had said. “We are about to reinstitute an old tradition tonight. The sorority paddle is making a comeback. You three have had poor grade reports so you, unfortunately, will be the test subjects for a little experiment.” The girls had grimaced and groaned, guessing at what the “little experiment” might hold in store for them, but no one had quit and walked out. “I’ll call you when I need you,” she’d said, dismissing them to their rooms to nervously await their fate.

The doorbell rang. Kirsten herself answered the door. She had to do a double take. She’d expected a woman, but standing in her doorway was a lean and lanky hunk----a six foot two inch guy in his early thirties, Kirsten guessed, with dark hair, intense grey eyes, a strong jaw line and a wry smile. Kirsten, usually fairly composed around attractive men, gulped and stammered,

“You’re a man.”

“Last time I checked,” he said, with a self deprecating grin. “I’m Colin Masters and I own and operate the Acme Paddle Company.”

“Um�.well, come in,” said Kirsten recovering her composure. “Uh, I thought they’d send a woman. I mean, I told them we were a sorority.”

“Well, ‘they’ is actually me. Custom paddle making is a little side business of mine,” he explained.

“A side business,” Kirsten repeated slowly. She took a deep breath and forged ahead. “Ok�well, I guess I’d better explain. We, uh, need some sorority paddles and not the decorative kind�.”. Then she stopped herself. “Say, how did you get into this business anyway?”

“Can we sit somewhere? So I can put this sample case down?” He looked around.

Kirsten was still off balance, what with this great looking man there to sell her spanking paddles like he was peddling vacuum cleaners, but she recovered her manners.

�“Let’s go downstairs to the common room.” Kirsten led the way, down some stairs to a large common room with several couches and lounging chairs facing a large screen TV.

He sat on the couch and put his sample case on the floor. “Ok, I’ll explain. I own part of a company that makes wood products, different composites for various types of carpentry. Things like cabinets, molding, flooring---you name it. About a year ago when things were slow I did a little poking on the internet and I discovered this market. Because of the wide popularity of a certain best selling book series, people were, well, getting into this spanking thing to be blunt about it.”

That 50 Shades thing again. Pure tripe. Porn disguised as “romance,” whatever that was. She had no time for such frivolous trash. But she smiled and said, “I see. Please go on.”

“The problem was the, ah, implements being sold were either very non-durable or they were too heavy. I did some experimenting and came up with what I thought was the right mix of durability and density or weight. I advertised and started getting orders from fraternities and quite a few sororities, a few Christian schools, and lots of adult toy outlets, and gee, things just took off.”

Kirsten sat forward taking it all in---taking him all in. The guy was definitely hot.

“So,” he said. “How can I help? What do you need?”

“Need?” Kirsten was shaken out of her temporary brain lock. “Oh, yes. Need. Well, you see we decided to---how to put this---return to more traditional discipline methods for the sisters.”

He gave an understanding nod. “Lots of folks doing that.”

“But our old paddles that hung on the wall for years, well, they’re long and really heavy. We need something else but I don’t know what, so we called you to give us a�your company I mean---to show us�.” Was she blushing like a schoolgirl? Sheesh�she hoped not. Dammit! She was twenty two years old, a psych major, a sophisticated adult and vice president of a prestigious sorority. She shouldn’t be flustered just because an attractive man was showing her spanking paddles.

He shook his head, agreeing with her. “Yes, I understand. And I know I can help. What I have in my sample case will solve all your problems. Let me guess. Your heavy paddles bruise. So then you swing them too lightly because you are afraid of injury and the whole thing becomes a joke.”

Kirsten nodded. He opened his case. Inside neatly laid out in a display were paddles of all different sizes and shapes.

“So, I know sororities are big on pledges learning the pledge manual,” he said. Kirsten nodded. One of her jobs was making sure all pledges memorized the history and traditions of PAD. There were tests that she gave at pledge meetings.

“Let’s say a couple of pledges do poorly. You want to provide a little consequence.” He pulled out a varnished wood paddle.
“This is a standard disciplinary type paddle. It’s made of ash, so it’s a hard wood but medium in the density range. It’s 18 inches long, and half an inch thick with rounded corners and edges. You’d use this over clothing, but nothing too thick. No more than about six swats and you’ve made a nice impression without injury.”

Kirsten took the paddle and half swooshed it. It was lighter than their bulky old ones. Lots shorter too.

“You can use very medium force and it still penetrates. A lot of thud---it’s a� whack that’s felt deeper. A few swats with this and you’ll have plenty of motivation to learn that manual.”

Kirsten pursed her lips. “Will it leave bruises?”

“It could, but not if you don’t get carried away. And you must be careful to strike the fleshy area of the buttocks only. Too high or off center and it could injure. But it’s a lighter version of the tried and true standard.”

“Ok,” said Kirsten. “Let’s try it out.”

Colin raised his eyebrows as if to question that last statement.

“Oh, no,” said Kirsten. “Not on me.” She blushed again at the implication. She suppressed a chill as a mental image formed of her bending over to present her rather shapely derriere for this man’s attentions. “Wait here a minute.” She got up and left the parlor.

Actually, mused Colin, as he took in the rear view, she was perfect. The skirt molded itself to every curve, and displayed a shapely pair of nicely rounded globes that jutted prominently behind her giving a great wiggle to her walk. It would work just fine on her.

“Melissa!” Colin heard her shout up the stairs. A few minutes later she walked back in with a medium height, cute girl wearing spandex workout shorts. The girl pulled up short and gulped as she took in Colin and the open display case. The girl, apparently Melissa, gave Kirsten a questioning look.

“Melissa, this is Mr. Masters. He is here to demonstrate some new behavioral tools for our sorority. As I told you, you’re going to help out with this test process. You can then tell the rest of your sisters that this is what they can look forward to if those grades don’t come up. Do we understand ourselves?”

The girl winced. “Yes, Kirsten.”

“I am afraid I have to tell you that you are going to have to take some licks with a paddle. As a test. Now. You do what Mr. Masters tells you to do and no arguing. Being a pledge sometimes means sacrificing for your sisters, do you understand?”

“Yes, Kirsten.” The girl eyed both the paddle and Colin nervously.

“Mr. Masters, please proceed. I’d like to see a demonstration.”

“Ah, yes,” said Colin. “Now this paddle is best given in a position where the seat is a good target, but not stretched tight. So, Melissa, if you will, bend over with your hands on your knees and stick out your bottom for me.”

As Melissa nervously assumed the position, Colin explained. “In this posture the bottom cheeks are relaxed but prominently presented. That insures that the blade will not strike the tailbone or hip bones.”

Melissa stuck her bottom out invitingly. Colin took a position to her left and patted her bottom lightly. “Now, with this paddle, depending on the offense, you could give anywhere from three to eight strokes. How many would you like for me to give her?”

“Hmm,’ said Kirsten, finger to her lips. “Let’s say five.”

“Five it is. All right, Melissa, hold still. Don’t move out of position.” As an aside to Kirsten he said, “You may wish to caution the pledge that if she moves, that stroke will not count.” Kirsten nodded.

“All right Melissa, here we go.” Colin put his hand on her back to steady her and brought his arm back. In a smooth motion he whipped the paddle forward. It struck the center of Melissa’s bottom with a loud whack!

“Ow!” Melissa flinched and half rose.

“Stay back down,” Colin cautioned. She obeyed and bent back over.

Whack! The paddle sounded like a gunshot in the enclosed parlor.

“Oweee!” Melissa yelped.

At roughly five second intervals Colin applied three more smacks. The girl bore it bravely but yelped each time the paddle struck. There was something positively primitive about the scene with Colin taking over and applying the paddle to the girl’s sexy derriere. It was so intimate, punishing the girl on her bottom, making her accept his control of her. Kirsten began to feel warm.

“Ok, you may get up, Melissa.” She rose and put her hands back to rub.

“How did that feel?” asked Colin.

“It hurt!” Melissa blurted.

“Was it unbearable? Could you have stayed still for more?”

“Maybe. It hurt, but it wasn’t terrible. It felt hot.”

“But you would not want a repeat performance?”

“No, not at all.” She shook her head emphatically.

“Ok,” said Colin.

Kirsten dismissed Melissa. She left, still rubbing her bottom and casting a curious look over her shoulder at Colin that seemed to telegraph that she found him attractive, despite the fact that he’d just paddled her bottom.

“So that is the standard paddle. Now we do have others that give a different feel and are different in the way they are used. Let me ask you,” he said. “How do you girls feel about removing some clothing from the target area?”

“How do you mean?” asked Kirsten.

“Well, Melissa was wearing workout shorts. Under that, probably panties. That’s two layers. Would you consider applying the paddle to the seat of the panties or thin cotton PJ bottoms?”

Kirsten cocked her head. “We might.” She started breathing heavier. Where was this going?

“Well for a different feel and even less likelihood of bruising, we have the Ferrule.” He selected a thin implement that had a narrower blade and was shorter. “This is a hybrid. It’s halfway between a ruler and a paddle. It’s 15 inches long and, as you can see, very thin. This paddle can be applied to the bottom over a single thin layer of clothing, like panties. It gives off a lot of surface sting, but that recedes quickly. You can safely apply anywhere from ten to twenty swats with this.”

He handed it to Kirsten and she flipped it around and tapped her palm. “Ouch! Yeah, that stings.” She got up again and called for a different pledge. This time a tall blonde girl appeared who was introduced as Ashley. She wore a short skirt and a top. Kirsten gave Ashley the same talk.

Ashley’s face wore an expression of nervous apprehension. It didn’t change when Kirsten said, “Ashley, turn around and raise your skirt. Put your hands on your knees.” She turned to Colin. “Is that the right position for this too?”

“What?” said Ashley. “Raise my skirt? He’ll see my panties!”

“That’s the idea, Ashley. Go on. Raise your skirt.”

Colin cleared his throat as the attractive pledge reluctantly raised the hem of her skirt to display a well fleshed bottom, full and round, clad in tiny panties that showed a generous amount of lower cheek. “Yes. That will do. Also if you wish, having her bend over the back of a piece of furniture like a couch is good too.”

“Ah,” said Kirsten. “Yes. Let’s do that. Ashley, place yourself over the back of the sofa please.”

Ashley bent over the sofa back. In this posture her torso was jackknifed making her cheeky behind stick out prominently. A very nice target, mused Colin as he moved aside her to her left.

“Now in this position her bottom is raised which allows for a slightly rising stroke which catches the underside of the cheeks. Like so.”

Whap! Smack! Crack!

Colin landed three quick smacks that had Ashley screech and rise upward on her toes.

“Yow�hooo�..yahhhh!” Ashley yipped and stamped her feet.

“This one has more sting,” said Colin, explaining. “But it’s all surface sting and any redness will quickly fade.

“Did that sting Ashley?” asked Kirsten. She could see red bands through the wispy panties marking where the paddle had impacted.

“Yes! Ow! It definitely stings!”

“Hmm�ok, how many are appropriate with this one?”

“Well, anywhere from about 10 to 20 is usually right.”

“Ten to twenty!?” yelped Ashley.

“That’s right Ashley. Proceed, Mr. Masters. Ten more I think.”

Kirsten observed as Colin calmly applied ten more swats at an even tempo. He didn’t use a lot of arm, just a little forearm with a wrist snap at the end. Ashley’s bottom cheeks quivered at impact and she made little yipping sounds that rose in volume as well as pitch.

Kirsten was getting hot. The sight of this man spanking the nearly naked bottom of her sorority sister was decidedly erotic. Where that came from she didn’t know, but there was this feeling crawling around in the pit of her stomach that was making her girlish parts feel slippery. Good grief, she told herself, get a grip.

The analytical mind of the psychology major took over. The impact of the paddle made Ashley flinch as if a lover was thrusting into her. In her position, nearly bare bottom in the air, it was like she was offering herself to be entered from behind. She got it now. The paddle was a metaphor for a penis and each smack was a thrust. That was it---the paddling was symbolic sex. Now she understood. So why wouldn’t the excitement go away?

“And that’s ten,” said Colin with a final crack of the paddle.

“Yow!” bleated Ashley, giving her roasted fanny a final wiggle.

“All right, Ashley. You may get up,” said Kirsten.

Ashley rose, her mouth open in a big “O” as she rubbed her bottom.

“All right, Ashley. You may return to your room.” Ashley made a quick exit probably fearing a few extras.

“So you see,” said Colin, “that one is a real stinger. But in a couple of hours any redness will be gone. The memory will, however, last.” He grinned broadly. “And I think that’s what you want.”

“Uh, yes. Yes it is. That would do nicely I think.”

Kirsten looked into the sample case. “What are those real short ones?”

“Those are spanking paddles designed to be used if the person is to be held across the lap.”

“Well,” said Kirsten, thinking. “I have considered that we may want to give each big sister a small paddle. You know for those informal discipline sessions. Many of these women are away from home for the first time and away from the motherly discipline they may have been used to. They are just beginning to learn to live in a larger communal setting and well, infractions sometimes call for a more on-the-spot type of correction.”

“I see,” said Colin. “So, we have this.” He pulled out a short paddle, maybe ten inches long that had a narrow handle connected to an oval business end. “This is our simulated hairbrush model. It’s made of myrtle wood, three eights inch thick. It’s short and therefore very precise. It doesn’t require much force, just a snap of the wrist. The wood does all the work.”

“What position should the, ah, recipient assume?”

“Held across the lap is best. And it is light enough that with this one, the buttocks can be bare if you wish. But it is also very effective though a layer of clothing. Depending on the level of force used, thirty to forty spanks or so can get the point across very emphatically.� It’s sized to smack one cheek at a time. I recommend alternating between cheeks. And occasionally low, right across the center crease.”

 

Kirsten’s mouth went dry as she imagined herself held across this man’s knee, her skirt up, her panties on display, as he smacked her exposed rear with the brush. Would she squirm? Would she kick? What if he pulled her panties down, what would that be like?� Well, she was going to see what that looked like.

“I think we may be interested in some of those. Excuse me.” She got up again and called for someone named Chrissy.

Chrissy turned out to be a short, very cute buxom girl with dancer’s legs, a tiny waist and widely flaring hips. She wore tights and an oversized shirt that came down below her hips. Like the others, Chrissy took in the scene, eyeing the sample case and Colin with some trepidation.

“Chrissy, you have probably been told what we are doing here.”

Chrissy nodded.

“But with this low grade report, I’m afraid you are going to have to be the subject of our little demonstration, too. So I want you to obey Mr. Masters here just as you would me. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Kirsten.” But clearly she was dreading what was about to happen.

“All right then. Mr Masters?” Kirsten turned it over to Colin.

“For this type of corrective session, it is best to sit on a long piece of furniture---a bed or a sofa.” Colin moved to the couch facing the TV. “All right, Chrissy, I want you to come over to my right. “ Colin sat down. Chrissy moved to stand to his right. “You could sit on a chair, but that would mean that the young lady would be sort of hanging in the air with no support. So Chrissy, put yourself across my knees, please.”

With a soft groan Chrissy knelt on the sofa and put her body face down across Colin’s lap. The posture made her bottom cock upward, making it the most prominent part of her anatomy. Colin placed his arm around her waist, holding her tight.

“Now, as I said, the best way to apply this paddle is to the bare skin or the panties.” Kirsten watched breathlessly as Colin raised her shirt and with one hand lowered her leggings in one smooth quick motion.

“Eeeek! Does he have to do that?” Chrissy screeched.

Kirsten immediately saw the reason for the outburst. All Chrissy wore under her tights was a thong. Her bare bottom cheeks were on full display. It was a heart-stopping tableau. The girl’s bottom was cocked over Colin’s knees, bare and vulnerable. Colin had positioned himself forward for maximum leverage, and was holding the paddle in his right hand, regarding the white bottom cheeks as if he were a determined dad about to chastise a wayward daughter.

“Yes, he does Chrissy. You may find yourself in this position with your big sister if those grades don’t come up. So now you just have to grin and bear it, I’m afraid.” She looked at Colin. “Proceed, Mr. Masters. I leave it to your discretion as to how many.”

“All right,” said Colin. He launched into a rapid flurry of brisk smacks that alternated on left and right cheeks. Chrissy bore the first few but began to yelp and wriggle about as the count rose.

“Ow�ohh�..ah�.yow!” She screeched, as Colin peppered her behind with sharp snappy spanks. To Kirsten it sounded like firecrackers going off, a steady crack! crack! crack! as the paddle made contact with the jiggling mounds of Crissy’s bottom.

Kirsten was having trouble maintaining her composure. This was the most electrifying scene yet. She squeezed her legs together hoping no one noticed how excited she was becoming.

Colin halted his rapid smacking. “So that’s one way to use this paddle. Alternatively, you could make the spanks very slow and deliberate. In fact you could require the young lady to count.”

“Um, yes. Do it that way. Chrissy, count off ten spanks, please.” Then she nodded to Colin.

He raised his arm and dealt out ten slow deliberately placed spanks, alternating right to left and bridging the crease between Chrissy’s bounding buttocks. The centered spanks were low, right above her pussy, and Chrissy yelped out the count even louder as these smacks landed.

Crack! “Ow! Seven.”

Smack! “Oooh�eight!”

Whap! “Yow�nine!”

Crack!� “Ok, ok,�.ten. Please stop!”

Colin put the paddle down and helped Chrissy up. Her shirt fell to cover her below the waist and her hands flew to her inflamed rear. “Wow�oh, yow!” she said, frantically rubbing. Her mouth was open in a big “O” and her eyes were as big as saucers. Kirsten dismissed her and she exited the common room after tugging her tights back up.

“So you see,” said Colin, “that gets very good results. I think the lesson is very firmly imprinted and I actually used very moderate force. That makes it easier to control so you create the exact amount of ‘heat for the seat’ that you want.”

“Oh, yes,” said Kirsten. “I see.” Her heart was thumping wildly and her sex felt slippery. That scene with Chrissy had been absolutely mesmerizing. The way he held her, controlling her. The way her fanny wriggled and bobbed under the smacking by the little paddle. Her grinding across his knee. It had been such a sexy display of raw male dominance.

“Well, can I put you down for a big order?” asked Colin with a big smile. “Or can I show you anything else?”

Kirsten looked in the sample case. Something caught her eye. “What’s that,” she asked pointing to a red short paddle that had what looked like a companion object packaged with it.

“Oh---oh that. That shouldn’t have been in there. Sorry. It has nothing to do with your needs, it’s a�.well it’s in my more erotic line.”

Now Kirsten’s curiosity was piqued. “How is it any different?”

“Well, ok,” Colin began. “It’s my own invention.” He picked up the paddle and the object. “First the paddle. It’s made of a very lightweight composite, so it takes more force to create sting. So it’s perfect for just warming your partner’s bottom. You know, creating a nice glow. Now this other piece is actually a vibrator. But it works in conjunction with the paddle. The paddle has a tiny transmitter that is activated by acceleration. The vibrator, which is placed in the, ah, vagina is activated by the transmitter to pulse at a higher amplitude as the paddle descends to the target. So each time the paddle strikes, the vibrator pulses

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