The Shot Tower Ch. 03byTruthAndLove©
Please read the first two chapters so you know who these people are and where they are, literally and emotionally.
"Marian! Marian!" I heard a female voice call out, "Over here!"
I crawled toward the sound, threading my way past red-eyed and red-bottomed women and the legs of men, one of whom bent down to give my right bun a pinch. I soon found myself at the north side of the roof just inside one of the parapet walls. It was Alito who had been calling me. She was kneeling on her haunches, naked, facing the wall. I knelt beside her, back to the wall, and began to rub my sore bottom unconsciously. I didn't see Brian or Jane anywhere. Thank God, I thought, I passed Brian early in the gauntlet when I still had clothes on. I would die of humiliation if my host father were to see me up here naked as the day I was born.
"Stop that, Marian!" Alito said, with alarm. "You can't turn your back to the wall like that. You have to keep your bottom facing the crowd at all times. Also, if you want to rub your bottom here on the roof, you have to rest the side of your face on the floor and hold your butt up. You can't rest it on the backs of your lower legs."
I pivoted to face the wall as she advised, lay my face down on the carpet, raised my pink butt up, and resumed rubbing it.
"Here let me help you with that," said a man passing by. He stopped and pushed my hands aside. Then he rubbed both his hands up and down on my bare rear several times and gave it a squeeze before walking off again, laughing.
"Since you're a first-timer, you don't know what happens next, do you?" Alito asked me when he had gone.
"No." I answered, "Isn't it over?" I didn't say so, but I couldn't wait to get home and have a long wank.
"It is over, if you want it to be. You just have to crawl over to the fire escape and climb down," she explained. "Rummage through the pile of clothes at the bottom of the shaft to find yours or just grab any top and bottom that fits, that's what most people do."
"Then, why are all these people still here?" I asked as I looked back at the top of the stairs and saw the last of the spankees arrive, tear-faced, on the roof.
"Actually, most of them are just waiting to leave. There's always a backup at the fire escape, so subs are waiting for the chance to climb down. Most of the spankers go down the inside stairs after the last woman has passed them and wait for their significant others at the bottom of the fire escape. Then they'll walk home together. Usually the submissive partner is a sex slave for the rest of the night. There are some swinger couples that organize potluck groups. Each sub in the group is randomly assigned to a dominant who is her master for the night."
It was hard to see much through the crowded forest of men's legs, but I could perceive that on the far side of the roof, naked pink-bummed women were indeed climbing over the parapet onto the fire escape, one-by-one. Several men had stationed themselves there and each woman paused just before swinging a leg over the parapet, bent over with her hands on the top of the parapet and allowed one of the men to give her half-a-dozen hard rapid final spanks before she departed.
However, looking around, I also noticed a crowd of men off to the right on the west side of the roof area with their backs turned to me. They were making a lot of noise and every few seconds one or another would let out a cheer or a whoop. There were so many that I couldn't see past them to view what was holding their attention. I looked to my left and saw a similar crowd of men on the east side. This group was quieter and I could hear female voices from that direction, but I could not make out what they were saying.
"But what about them?" I asked Alito, pointing to the men on the right. "And them?" I added, pointing to the group on the left.
"Well, there are some women who ... uh ... that is," Alito seemed to search for words. "... I mean that the stairs isn't ... well, isn't enough."
"Enough?" I asked.
"Yes, they really crave ... I mean, they want more. You see, if a submissive wants more pain and she doesn't have a significant other she can go home with or wants the pain from someone else, she can crawl over there to the right and get extra discipline. You can't see it with all those men standing around, but there is a pile of switches, paddles, hairbrushes, canes and other implements over there. Any submissive who wants to can crawl over there and pick up her choice of implement in her teeth and then crawl to any of the dominants standing there and ask for spanking, paddling, switching or whatever. The submissive can choose the number of spanks, but all the other details are decided by the dominant."
Suddenly, I understood why I was hearing cheers from the men in that group. I remembered the powerful sting of the single switch I'd got from Mr Ventor and the paddle swats that I'd got while crawling up the last flight of steps. The thought of more filled me with fear, but I also felt a new flood of arousal in my privates at the thought of crawling naked to a man with a spanking implement in my mouth and then humbly asking him to chastise me.
"On the other hand," Alito's voice interrupted my reverie, "if the submissive wants more public humiliation, she can crawl over there to that group on the left for what we call 'humility training' from some of the town's authority figures, such as preachers, policemen, and school principals."
"What's that?" I asked. The very name of it made me even fizzier.
"They must confess bad behavior and their secret desires out loud to an authority figure and then masturbate in front of the others and anyone else who wants to watch. The authority figure dictates what position they must take."
"My God!" I exclaimed spontaneously.
At just that moment, we heard cheers and applause from the extra discipline group on the right. As we looked in that direction, we saw some of them men step aside and a woman came crawling out between them.
It was Pam.
I watched fascinated as she crawled across the roof, where the crowd was beginning to thin out. As she neared us, we could see her sniffling a little but her eyes also shown with excitement, and as she passed by, we could see that her bum had at least a dozen thin red stripes across the pink background. She kept going until, to my surprise, she reached the humility training group on the left. The men there parted and after she passed between them they closed up the gap so we could no longer see her.
"Ah, yes," I heard a man's voice say from that direction, "here's Pam now. I knew she wouldn't miss humility training."
"Yes," said Alito, anticipating my next question, "there are some who go for both the extra discipline and the humility training. In fact, after everyone who wants extra discipline or humility training has done so, there is a small group of dominants and submissives who stay for an extended session of public punishment and sexual slavery here on the roof. Don and I have never stayed for that, but I've heard that the same two women stay every year."
I felt my loins gushing again as I tried to picture such a scene. Alito's voice interrupted me again.
"Well, I see the line at the fire escape is down to only a few people, so I'm heading over there. Don is waiting for me on the ground."
With that she began to crawl over to the fire escape on the opposite side. Other than the small knots of people in the extra discipline and humility training areas, the roof was almost empty now. I crawled behind Alito and waited in queue beside her on the far side. We were careful to keep our bare bottoms facing inward so they were visible to any passing man. No sooner had we got there, than I heard more cheers from the extra discipline area and then a muffled woman's voice from the humility training spot. I tried not to picture what was going on in those groups, hidden from my view by the men standing around, but I couldn't stop the images from coming; images in which I had the starring role. I felt myself growing wetter and wetter.
After a couple minutes a nude woman crawled out from the extra discipline group and crawled over to wait in queue behind me. She was weeping, but I could see that her nipples were stiff and I could smell her arousal. A minute later, another woman came crawling out from the humility training section. She looked shell shocked, but also very ... satisfied. She joined the queue too.
As Alito and I got closer to the front of the queue, I discovered that there was more subtlety to the final spanking of the departing women than I had realized when I'd watched it from the other side of the roof. After each woman stood up, but before she bent over with her hands on the top of the parapet, she had to pick out one the six or seven men standing there by name and ask for her spanking. Weirdly, after she was bent, bare bottom outward, she had to engage the spanker in a bit of chat before he spanked her.
When the woman ahead of Alito reached the head of the queue, she scanned the men's faces for a moment and then, looking down in embarrassment, said "Bob, would you please give me a hard spanking?"
"Gladly," one of the men replied with a smile as he stepped forward to position himself beside her. She then turned her back on him and bend forward, placing her hands on the parapet.
"So, Sara," he continued, "I haven't hseen you since the last garden club meeting. How did your tulips do this year?"
"Uh ... fine ... just fine, Bob," she said clearly nonplussed.
"That's great," he replied. "I look forward to seeing you at the next meeting."
With that, he swept his arm back and gave her six quick spanks that re-pinkened her bottom. They were hard and she audibily "ow"ed after each one. After a brief pause to recover, she gingerly straightened up and turned to face him again while she rubbed her bottom.
"Thank you for that, Bob," Sara said with a weepy quaver in her voice. "I'll be there. I wouldn't want to miss your presentation on mid-summer weeding."
They may have been hard spanks, but I realized that she was weeping more from embarrassment than from pain. And now I understood the purpose of the small talk. It was to emphasize to the sub that she was debasing herself in front of someone she knew, someone whe was going to have to face often in her daily life.
As Sara climbed over the parapet, Alito stood up to face the men. I could see that her face had turned a deep red and her eyes were already wet with humiliation.
"Just pick out anyone you know," one of the men encouraged her when she seemed to hesitate.
She hung her head and whispered "Jerry, please give me a spanking."
"What's that?" the man who had encouraged her asked. "Speak up!"
Alito heaved a huge sign of defeat and repeated her request out loud, "Please, Jerry, give me a spanking."
"Sure thing, Ms. Rodriguez," a young man who couldn't be more than 20 said as he stepped forward. "I'd do anything for you. You've been one of my favorite customers ever since I started working as a bagger at the Food-Mart. You're always polite and give me a big tip at Christmas time. That's why I always double-bag your groceries."
"Yes ... um ... well ..." Alito was finding it difficult to speak casually to a social inferior when she was starkers and about to present herself for him to punish. "You're ... uh ... the best bagger that Food-Mart has ever had."
She then turned and took the required position: hands on parapet, bent at waist, naked rump presented for chastisement.
"There's just one thing, Ms. Rodriguez," Jerry asked. "What kind of spanking do you want?"
"Huh? What kind?" Alito asked in confusion.
"I mean like hard? fast?" Jerry explained.
"Oh, ... well ... uh ... as hard as you think I need," she said, her voice choking. (I didn't need to be told that "soft" was not an option in The Tradition.)
"And why do you want this spanking, Ms. Rodiguez?" Jerry continued the interrogation. He may be young, I thought to myself but he sure knows how to rub in the humiliation. I was growing wetter and wetter watching this scene unfold.
"Well— uh— because—" Alito stammered. "Because ... well ... I've been naughty. I looked through a fashion magazine at the Food-Mart magazine rack but then I didn't buy it."
"My, my, you have been naughty, Ms. Rodriguez," Jerry persisted, "And where do you want your spanks?"
"Uh ... on my butt."
"What kind of butt is it, Ms. Rodriguez?"
Alito heaved another huge sigh before replying, "Naughty, Jerry. [sniffle] I have a naughty bottom. Please give my naughty naked bottom ... oh, God ... a good hard spanking."
"Okey doke," Jerry said cheerfully and then he began to deliver a slow spanking, with pauses of at least ten seconds between the swats. She grunted after each blow.
I watched in aroused fascination as this mid-30s woman was spanked by a kid bagger from her grocery store. In particular I was transfixed by the sight of her buns flattening and then bouncing back with each smack. As a virgin, I had always had a fascination for more mature women and was curious about their sex lives. Now as I watched Alito's meaty buns alternately collapse and rebound, I realized that I was witnessing a real grown-up woman in a sex act. I felt that I had crossed a great divide. I felt that I had joined a club. Of all the things I had seen and was to see this night, it was this — seeing these mature shaking buns and knowing that their owner had more or less volunteered to have them treated this way and she was probably sexually aroused by the experience — that made me feel like a grown-up myself.
"Now, before I give you the last spank, Ms. Rodriguez," Jerry said, interrupting the spanking. "I want you to tell me something. What are you going to remember from now on when you see me in the Food-Mart?"
"I— I— [sob] ... I'm going to remember this." Alito choked out.
"That's good, Ms. Rodriguez, because that will help you remember not to be naughty again. Every time I bag your groceries, you will remember the consequence of being naughty in the Food-Mart. You will remember that you bent over stark naked in front of me and these others and asked me for a spanking and you got a good hard slow public spanking. Now this last one will be especially hard to drive home the point"
"Arrrgggghhh!" Alito moaned as she jerked to a standing position and began to rub her bottom furiously. Tears rolled down her face, but I knew this was from humiliation rather than pain. It had, after all, been only six spanks.
"Th— th— thank you [sob], Jerry. I will remember this every time I see you."
With that, she climbed gingerly over the parapet and onto the fire escape.
It was my turn.
I stood and faced the men and I immediately realized that I didn't know any of them. They seemed to come to the same realization too, and they were visibly disappointed that the humiliation of being spanked by someone you know would not be applicable in my case. They looked at each other and shrugged. Finally, one stepped forward and gestured for me to take the proper position.
I was about to do so when, looking past his shoulder, I noticed the extra discipline area. Then I stopped as a picture of myself came, unbidden, to my mind: I was on hands and knees. I had a paddle in my mouth. I laid it at the feet of a man. I bowed my head. I said "Please paddle me, sir."
"Hurry up!" the woman behind me said, waking me up from my fantasy.
But I did not bend over the parapet. Instead, I dropped to my hands and knees again and began to crawl over to the extra discipline area. Behind me I heard both male and female voices gasp in surprise and a few giggled.
When I got there one of the men, all of whom had their backs turned, heard me approach and he stepped aside to let me crawl into the circle of dominants. I immediately saw a small pile of paddles and switches on the floor near the parapet. An empty folding chair was beside them.
"Ah, look at this," one of the men said, "that English high school girl is here."
There were many masculine murmurs of approval at this piece of news.
Inside the circle of dominants there was just one other submissive. It took me a moment to recognize her because I'd never seen her without clothes on.
It was Jane, my host mother!
She was standing bent 90 degrees at the waist with her hands resting on the top of the parapet and her legs spread wide. She had arched her back which made her bare butt seem to stick up and out more. That butt was covered with bright red stripes and she was emitting little choking sobs, but her crotch was visibly damp and she was making no move to leave. I made a quick scan of the faces of the men there. Brian was not among them.
Suddenly, the man standing next to her gave her a sharp snap on her right bun with a switch he was holding. Swwwiffff-ppt!
"Urgghhh!" she grunted through clenched teeth as her head snapped up. Her right knee began to pump up and down rhythmically as she tried to shake away the pain. A new stripe appeared where the switch had landed.
"Ooowwwoo! ... [sob] ... thank you, Aaron," she choked out breathlessly.
I had learned earlier that Jane was a sub, but it still came as a shock to see her like this, offering her naked rear up to a man, not her husband, to be switched while other men watched.
Swwwiffff-ppt! Aaron — apparently that was his name — brought the instrument down on the opposite bun, and again Jane howled and did her little one-knee dance, on the left this time.
"Errr-oooh ... [gasp] ... thank you, Aaron," she repeated.
"Last one, Jane," Aaron said as he brought the switch back behind and low. "I'll make it a good one."
Then he swung around and up and fast. It caught her across both buns and she jerked her hips forward and her upper body up. Her head snapped back and her eyes squeezed shut as she gritted her teeth, her face a mask of pain.
"Grrggrrrhhhggg! ... [gasp] ... oh, God, ... thu- ... [gasp] ... thank, you, A-Aaron," she sobbed, "oww ... [gasp] ... ooo ... huh ... muumm."
For another 10 seconds, Jane continued to gasp in pain as her hips twisted and jerked while her butt muscles churned. The show brought hoots of approval from the surrounding doms.
Finally, she dropped to her hands and knees and gingerly turned around. She thanked Aaron and he held the switch down near her face so she could take hold of it in her mouth. She crawled over to the pile of spanking instruments, wincing with each "step" of her knees, as any movement seemed to made her bum hurt. After dropping the switch on the pile, she began to crawl away from the parapet, still making small gasps of pain. Two doms stepped aside so she could crawl out of the group. I could see that her tear-stained face was flush with excitement.
Suddenly, I was the only submissive present and I felt all eyes on me. I was suddenly very frightened, but I was something else, too. Jane's display had turned me on tremendously, especially the way she had arched her back as if welcoming the switching. There was something terribly erotic about that.
"Come on, then, lassie," I heard a man's voice say, "time's a wastin'. Pick your implement, pick your spanker, and tell us how many swats you want."
I crawled over to the pile of tools. I'd had one switch from Mr Ventor earlier and that was plenty for one night, I thought. Anything else would be bound to be less painful than a switching.
I spotted a ping pong paddle that seemed the least lethal of the devices, so I bent my head and grabbed the handle with my teeth. Then I turned back toward the circle of men. I wanted someone who would be a bit tender with me. After all, this was my first time. But I didn't know any of them, so there seemed to be no reason to pick one over another. Then I noticed the legs of some short person who was mostly hidden by other doms standing closer to the front.