Here is a story from a couple of years ago… which is fitting for the coming holiday.

Enjoy! 

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 (a fictional spanking tale by Todd)

I’d never much cared for Thanksgiving. Growing up in different foster homes, it was always an uncomfortable day for me. People tried to make me feel included and they were always giving. I was thankful for that. But, it was a day for family and tradition… and I never truly had either. All in all, I’d rather have just skipped right past the day.

And in my first couple of years of college, that’s exactly what I did do. Would sleep in, watch some tube and eat a frozen turkey TV dinner. Just me and my Swanson in an empty dorm. My tradition was simple, but totally stress free.

My junior year though, my solitary plans were derailed by my new girlfriend, Elizabeth. We’d dated since the start of the year, and by Thanksgiving time we were getting pretty serious. She was dead serious too, about us sharing a traditional Thanksgiving meal together.

She’d been raised by her grandparents, and they’d passed away after she left for school. So, she was left without family. But, she most certainly was not without a traditional view of what “Turkey Day”… as she called it… should be about. She was insistent that I take part in that tradition with her.

I must admit, it didn’t take much arm twisting. She really made it sound delicious. A golden brown bird, with moist white meat. Homemade mashed potatoes and stuffing, corn on the cob, fresh baked bread, cranberry sauce, green beans and carrots. Plus pumpkin and apple pie. All this, and she was adamant that I let her do everything. My only job, show up at her apartment Thursday morning starving and ready to eat.

Finishing up classes Wednesday, homecooking was on my mind. As was spending the extended weekend at Liz’s place. Her roommate was going home to be with her family, which was certainly good news for us. Moments alone were few and far between, especially for any length of time.

We planned to take advantage, too. You see, we had an interest in spanking. We’d discovered early on that we really enjoyed playful and erotic spankings. Some swats to her bottom as a part of foreplay turned us both on. Was hard to get too into it though, with roommates surrounding us. Also, we wanted to try a ‘real’ spanking. Liz expressed a burning desire to experience this. No way to try it, until we had some real alone time.

The thought intimidated me a little. A real spanking, for what reason? How hard, how long? Despite my trepidation, the idea was alluring. It was something that I often thought about.

However, Thursday was about a fabulous meal. I showed up to her door absolutely famished. Ringing the bell, I waited for her bubbling face to open the door.

And, I waited.

And… I waited.

Finally, Liz showed up. She looked like she’d just given birth to twins. I stepped in, and before I could say hello or give her the bottle of wine I’d brought, she raced off to the kitchen.

I followed her into what can only be described as a war zone. The kitchen was a total and complete disaster. Liz was in tears, in the middle of it all. I asked her what was wrong. She said everything. The turkey wasn’t thawed, the bread was burned, the gravy looked like soup broth, ingredients had been eaten by the roommate. The pies hadn’t even been started. Too much to do, in too little time, with too little space.

Surveying the situation, it was obvious little could be saved. The turkey was frozen solid, and would take hours and hours to prepare. A meal could be scrounged together out of the mess, perhaps. But, there seemed little point in the effort.

So, we set to cleaning the kitchen up. Liz kept apologizing as we went, and cried off and on the entire time. Job completed, we fixed… you guessed it… TV dinners.

Not a big deal to me. The fancy meal would have been nice and all, but I was most thrilled at our time alone. Food was food, afterall. And like I said, I never much cared for the holiday in the first place.

Liz wasn’t as relaxed, she still wasn’t taking it that well. She insisted that she’d ruined our “first” Thanksgiving together. That she was a terrible cook and a total failure. I tried to consol her, soothe her mind, make her feel better. Nothing seemed to work.

Then, an inspiration struck. This was the reason I’d been searching for. The reason to spank. She’d clearly taken on too big of a job, and was now letting her emotions run wild.

Standing next to the sink, finishing the dinner dishes, I told Liz we needed to have a serious talk about the dinner and her attitude. Where this was headed seemed to register with her almost instantly. Taking Liz by the hand, I led her to the livingroom couch and sat her down.

I explained that she needed to be more realistic in what she promised. More reasonable. Two people didn’t need so much food, and a working student that had never even attempted such a meal was begging for trouble by taking on such a project. That she also needed to relax about this. That ultimately, it wasn’t a big deal and shouldn’t be allowed to ruin our weekend.

Liz sat, hands folded, listening to every word. She never took her eyes off me.

I concluded by saying, “Now Elizabeth, to make what I am saying to you crystal clear and so you won’t forget… I am going to give you a spanking.”
With that, I took her hand and led her to a corner. I placed her nose first, hands behind her back and instructed her not to move. My heart was racing. I felt like an actor in a role. Like I was pretending to be something I was not. But, I also felt rush of exhilaration. Power and exuberant excitement raced through my veins.

I needed to find something to spank her with. It’s something she’d said she wanted to be part of a ‘real’ spanking. But, we really didn’t have anything. All my previous spankings had been given with my hand. Looking around the kitchen, I spotted the perfect thing for this spanking… a wooden cooking spoon.

Utensil in hand, I retrieved Liz from her corner. She looked a little nervous, and a lot excited. I maneuvered her back to the couch, and sat down, leaving her standing at my side.

Slowly I maneuvered her over my knees. Her body was warm, and tense. She was wearing a pretty flowery top, and a denim skirt. I lulled her dress up her back, exposing her pink little panties. My fingers pried the fabric from her white silky skin. Lingering at her heavenly ass, I gradually tugged her underpants down to the bottom of her feet. Flinging them to the side, Liz laid ready for her spanking.

Picking up the spoon, I placed it on her backside and started sliding it across her smooth skin. Slowly, I started tapping up and down. Softly, feeling the weight of the instrument falling on her ass.

Increasing the rap, I bounced the mixing spoon on her rump harder and harder. Liz clinched her cheeks slightly, letting out a little yelp. Her weight shifted away from me, forcing me to pull her back towards me. Her bum started to glow a pink.

Moving to an even faster beat, the intensity of the spanking surged. Legs kicking, hands clenching, her voice hummimg with protest. Her skin toned a rosy shade of red at me. With a final flourish, the score was completed. Our first real spanking had come to a close.

We embraced and held each other. The heat from her bottom radiated onto my hand as we gripped each other in passion. I felt totally calm and at peace. Completely at ease with the spanking I’d given. Intense and passionate… bonding… it was a wonderful experience. Much love-making followed. Sometimes raw and agressive, sometimes soft and gentle. The weekend was filled with talking about the future. Sharing our dreams and desires.

We married shortly after college, and now 20 years later… and a great number of spankings later… we’re still together. Liz is a wonderful cook, and puts together the very best Thanksgiving feasts for our now large family. As much as we look forward to these joyous family gatherings… that first Thanksgiving together is still our favorite. At some point in the day, we always manage to sneak off somewhere… and find a wooden spoon to take with us. It’s our special Thanksgiving tradition.