The Bad Boys Club - First Quarter

Warning:

This is a bondage and discipline story about women spanking their husbands. It is also a CFNM story. And it is also a story that celebrates domestic discipline where the female, not the male, is the disciplinarian. If the thought of a woman using a paddle on her husband's behind upsets you, or if a story about men having to act as sex objects and sex toys offends you, do not read this.

THE BAD BOY'S CLUB

I had to write this description and reflection as the final requirement of my time in the Bad Boy's Club. As required by the assignment, I have written it for women who want to know what will happens to their husbands if they go to a Bad Boy's Club session.

Sara and I had been married for ten years with two kids when we both agreed that things had gotten stale sexually. Even though we enjoyed our sex together, we were bored and wanted more. We tried kinky date nights, but even that got stale. We talked about swinging, but Sara was leery of anything that seemed like traditional sexist, wife swapping. Then Sara was given the website for what became our CFNM Husband Swapping Club, and she liked what she read. While she thought the idea was great, I was leery about the idea that the women were clothed while I had to be naked. As I read the website, I found out that every three months, the club held weekend retreats for between 60-100 couples during which the men were required to be naked sex toys from Friday night until Sunday afternoon, and that before a couple could become a member of the club, they had to attend one of the weekend retreat. After that you could attend the small dinner parties, "cock-tail" parties, and play parties that occurred more frequently but for a shorter duration. In each event, I would have to be nude and powerless, and while that thought was interesting, it was also scary. Finally Sara just said, "This is the only way that I will get into swinging. If you want to spice up our sex life, we have to try this, even if it is just once," so I went.

So it was five years ago when we went to our first weekend party. CFNM club events always start with a game that gets the boys to take off their clothing one item at a time. At my first one, every five minutes each woman got to pick a color card, which allowed her to walk up to a man who was wearing something in that color, and then she could tell him take it off, or better yet, she was encouraged to take it off him herself. If she had a blue card and you had on blue jeans, a blue shirt and boxers with blue in them, you were nude by the end of the first round. I lasted two rounds; my boxers and blue jeans came off right away. So I pretty much started off the party naked from the waist down. The process of having different women come up to me to take off my clothes one piece at a time, and then, to parade around with no opportunity to cover my junk in a mixed group was challenging at first. But as soon as my boxers and jeans were off, I was constantly being complimented, ogled, groped, stroked. It got even better when my shirt came off and I was completely nude. By the end of the night, I could not count he often my dick was massaged and licked, or how many pussies I ate, or how, even with Viagra, I managed to keep it up so long and to cum so many times. Being naked all day Saturday was even better. It was fun for once to be the object of desire and not have to work for it. By the end of that party, I was a true believer. I love going to all of the parties, but especially the weekends. So to be clear, I would have done whatever was necessary to continue being invited to club events.

And Sara knew that.

It is rare for us to get to the weekend events while we have kids. However, with the kids away at camp, summer always meant that we could go to the weekend retreat as well as the smaller parties the go on year round. In June, we went to a "cocks and tails" party at Thomas and Suzanne's home. There were only 6 couples which allowed Sara to notice how well behaved Thomas was. He was actually doing as much or more of the party work as Suzanne. Since this was a CFNM sex party, I was not upset when Sara grabbed him and pulled him up to a bedroom. I was grabbed several times myself. However, I embarrassed her by making fun of Thomas. She said I called him pussy whipped because he was doing all the work. Sara yelled at me after the party, but she did more than that. Without my knowledge, she asked Suzanne how she got Thomas to behave, and Suzanne told Sara about the Bad Boy's Club. I didn't know anything about it though until it was time to sign up for the weekend retreat.

So when we received our invitations to the Summer Weekend, Sara told me that this party was going to be different. She told me that were going to attend the Bad Boy's Club on Friday night, and that if I participated properly, we would be attending the rest of the weekend starting Saturday morning.

I must admit now that I acted badly. I pouted. I said that it was not fair. We only get to go to the summer weekends when the kids are at camp, and I didn't want to miss out on Friday night for anything. I said that she was ruining one of my favorite things in life. I pouted some more. Looking back, I realize that I was acting like a boy, and that I deserved to be treated like one.

Throughout all of my antics, she remained calm and explained that she had a long conversation with Suzanne about the improvement in Thomas' behavior, and that it was the result of his spending time in the Bad Boy's Club and the resulting changes they made in their marriage.

She told me that when she and Suzanne were in the kitchen taking a break, Suzanne said, "judging from Chuck's behavior tonight, as well as in the past, you need to sign him up for the summer session. You go with 4-6 other couples and spend the Friday night of the retreat retraining you husbands. You learn how to properly spank them while you help them realize their flaws and learn how to correct them. Now, if you think you will also get sexual gratification from spanking Chuck like I get spanking Thomas, all the more reason to do it."

I said, "Spanking, you're kidding. No way." Then I went back to playing the victim.

Sara smiled. She was had planned this carefully and was set for my antics. She said that she wasn't so sure I had a real problem with spanking and mentioned a house party where the hostess was showing off spanking techniques and asked for volunteers to be spanked. She said, "I might have pushed you a little bit to be one of the volunteers. You could have said no, but you didn't. So don't give me the I won't get spanked bit."

"What if I refuse, to go?" I asked.

"Read your invitation to the party ."

I did. It was not the usual invitation that men get for the weekend retreats. It said that my invitation to participate in the retreat was conditional and based on whether I engage in the activities of the Bad Boy's Club "to your wife's satisfaction." The Bad Boy's Club lasts only Friday evening and night, and that I will be allowed to enjoy the rest of the summer retreat weekend, but only if I fully cooperate on Friday. It finished by saying that, "However, if you refuse to take part in, or if you do not do everything to her satisfaction, you will never be allowed to attend any other CFNM function again, ever. But your wives will still remain active members of the club."

When I finished reading and looked up at her, she simply asked, "Do you really want to lose your parties?"

She let that sink in. Then she continued stressing every word. "You will never be invited to the club again! Think about all the fun you will be missing in the future, and remember, (And she said this with a very evil grin) that I would remain a member. And you know, I could decide to go all by myself."

I stared and said, "You wouldn't!?!" That really got to me.

She said with a wink and another wicked smile, "Who knows? You would be at home with the kids, while I was out for the whole weekend with rooms full of naked men just for my enjoyment. I could go to every weekend party. What's more, Suzanne says that it's a lot of fun spanking bad boys, and I am going to enjoy disciplining you. The more I fantasize about spanking you, the hotter I get."

I got really stupid then and said, "That could be cause for divorce." I didn't mean it and fortunately she ignored it. She simply shook her head.

She said, "Get serious. We're not getting divorced. But you need to make some changes or that might actually become a possibility." Somehow, her tone became even more deadly. "You need discipline. You're 45 and you still tell stupid sex jokes. You don't do your share around the house, and you keep promising that you will change. You need the kind of motivation that only comes from a sore, hot, and red backside. And besides all of that, and maybe most importantly, I want to discipline you. I realized at that house party that it turns me on to see you getting your ass spanked. I know now that I get sexual gratification from watching you squirm, yelp and moan as something solid hits your very nice, solid rump. I realize that I get sexual pleasure from seeing it, and I want to see it when I am the one using the paddle. I have a right to my sexual gratification, and I believe the me getting mine will be very good for our marriage. Both parties in a marriage have the right to be sexually satisfied. Remember that I had to convince you to attend the club in the first place, and now you love it. I'm going to bet that you are going to love this too, judging from your last spanking. But either we are going to this, and you are going to take whatever punishment I dole out to you, or you won't be going to another party again, ever."

I was beat, and I knew it, so I sighed. "Ok, I'll do it. I hope you are happy." Sara said knew she would be and she expected me to be very happy too.

The Bad Boy's event starts two hours earlier than the regular party. So that Friday night, we rushed through an early dinner, and drove off to the Kink B and B that houses the weekends. The inn is an old farmhouse in one of the far suburbs of a relatively large city. It is dedicated to sexual positivity and holds all sorts of nudist, vanilla-sexual, and fetish retreats, and is the only such facility around. Since it is very popular, our club can only book it once every four months. That means that I can really count on making the summer party when the kids are at camp, and why missing it now would be a big loss to me. House parties are fun, but the weekend orgies are the best.

Normally, when we get to the inn, the parking lot is usually filled and there are separate the men's and women's entrances. This time, the lot was empty and there were no signs, and so we checked in at the front entrance. Sara asked the woman behind the counter where we were supposed to go, and she gave us a map to a building called the woodshed and instructed us to go directly to it. I guess I should have known that we would be in a separate out building away from the main group, but I didn't think of it. As I was walking away from her, I swear that I heard the clerk whisper to another woman something about my ass being really nice and that she hoped she could get a look at it later this evening. But maybe that was just my nervousness and I imagined it.

Walking to the woodshed was the longest half mile ever, and when we got to it my stomach was churning. It got worse when I walked in. I took one or two steps in and saw that It is a large, deep, rectangular building, and I realized that this building had been a stable originally. As I looked towards the back wall, I saw that there is some empty space up front and then there were horses stalls. There were many stalls going to the back wall, but I could only see into two of them.

In the stall closest to me was a padded sawhorse that was at waist level. I thought, "I guess, they bend you over that and you stick out your butt and then..." In the next stall was a pillory, and I thought, "They you bend over and stick your legs into those holes and and lock them and then they bend you over and put your head and hands in there and they clamp it down and lock it, and then they..." It was at that moment I realized, "No, it's not you - somebody else - who is going to be tied to those things; it's going to be me."

I wanted to know what was in the rest of the stalls, but I thought it would be a bad idea to investigate without being invited. Part of me understood very well that I would find out before too long.

Then I looked to my left and right and saw a card table, where three other boys were already sitting. There was an empty chair, and Sara told me to sit. Before I sat, I looked to my left, and up against the side wall, were four, two foot high risers, and behind each riser was a different name: Larry, Bruce, David, and Chuck. I've been at enough parties to know what that is for. And when I sat down, my chair was facing the opposite wall, and there I saw a long, wooden table littered with with things that I could tell could be used to paddle a butt. Three women were standing in front the table looking at and playing with those items, and they called to Sara to join them.

Sara was wearing the kilt that she got inherited her grandfather. She always wore it to CFNM parties because it covered up everything, but it was short enough so that it was easy for her to get a guys head in between her thighs, or to straddle his hips. Needless to say, she didn't wear panties. Sara's top was a button down shirt that she wore to the parties without a bra. When she had me, (or some other guy), on my back and she was fucking me in the cowgirl position, she would open another button or two and pull my head into her chest and I would suck her tits while she was bouncing on my dick. All of the women were dressed in equally short mini-skirts and tops that were cut low. Fully covered, but they all oozed sex. When I saw them and knew sex was also on the agenda, it was just possible for me to ignore the four signs on the wall behind that table.

One sign read: "For boy's bottoms when they shirk their kitchen work." There on the table were an assortments of spatulas, wooden and plastic spoons, and lots of wooden pizza paddles.

The next sign read, "For boy's bottoms when they shirk their house work." On that section of the table were rug beaters, scrub brushes with handles, and toilet bowl brushes. Fortunately, the toilet brushes were still in their original wrappers.

The next sign read, "For boy's bottoms when they forget who is the boss." On that section were fraternity paddles of various sizes. One of the woman standing there playing with one of those paddles said that it was only too appropriate since her little boy husband still acted like a fraternity brat. She hit her hand with it and said, "Ow, that hurts." She smiled at a dark haired man, and said, "Once on my hand is nothing like oh so many times on your rump." The dark haired man squirmed uneasily in his chair.

Finally, there was a a sign that read: "To help boys better understand women." On that section were four dildos with each man's name in front of it as well as harnesses that looked like four jock straps that allowed the women to strap the dildo on to their bodies.

I thought, "Besides beating my ass, they intend to peg me. I could just leave right now, but if I man up and do this, I get to keep going to the regular parties." I still refused to let it into my consciousness, but had I listened to my dick, I would have known that I was excited and eager for the action.

I could tell that the women were taking it slow to let it all sink in and make us stew a bit before really starting the party, The women were drinking white wine, while we had only bottles of water on our table. One by one, each woman walked over to her husband and gave him two tablets of Viagra. Sara was last and when she gave it to me, she was holding her Chablis, and she laughed and said, "I can get drunk, but it's just water for you. Viagra and alcohol don't mix."

We had nothing to do but stare at either the risers where we would be placed on exposition or the table where the implements were. If that wasn't bad enough,

we had to listen to the women talk about how the implements were going to be used. One of the guys whispered something, but one of the women immediately said, "Larry, if you want me to use this paddle on you right now, you will continue talking. You boys don't get to talk. You should be reflecting on your bad conduct. Just sit there and meditate about hot, and red, and burning your entire backside is going to be by the end of the night. It almost makes me cum just thinking about it."

So we just sat there in silence shuffling from cheek to cheek staying in our own heads. I first was thinking about the risers and how much fun I have stripping and being on view up there would be a real turn-on. Normally the strip down is nothing but a fun prelude to sex. But my mind kept turning to the spatulas and paddles. I couldn't get over fantasizing about being tied to the sawhorse and having my butt beaten with a pizza paddle. I kept squirming in my seat as if preparing my ass for the onslaught.

I would have denied it, but I really knew that all of this was getting me really hot. I kept pushing away the thought that getting tied up and then spanked was getting me really horny. My brain didn't accept it but my dick kept trying to rise, and eventually I had to do what I did when I had an accidental boner in high school and scrunch around in my chair until it was stuck under the waistband of my pants. I wanted this to start right now, but the girls were building up the excitement by not letting it happen. And all I could think about was being tied up naked while Sara and the others spanked me.

Finally one of the women, a tall, very proper looking and sounding, curvaceous lady with brown hair began to speak. "Ok, we are so excited that you are willing to go down the road to change your behaviors. This is not going to be easy," she paused and laughed and said, "for you." All the women laughed. "But it is very important because we believe that the only way that you will improve is when you can't sit for a week. Accept the fact that this evening is only the beginning of your attitude adjustment period that will continue for the rest of your lives. You will be spanked and paddled this entire evening, and you can expect to be spanked and paddled again at home if you act badly. And I will speak for the other women here, you will be spanked again, even if you behave well, simply for our sexual gratification. If you wish to leave, you may do so now. However, you wives intend to stay here and play with the other boys at the party. Also remember that this will be you last party, if you leave." She reminded me of the kind of senior vice president of a company all the male executive called a bitch but all wanted to fuck.

The other women nodded. We squirmed a bit. I looked at the other guys, and I saw that all of us intended to say the course.

The brunette continued. "We all know women who have much better husbands because they went through this program, and they got us to start talking to each other about your behavior. We all agreed that you acted like brats, and when we called you on it, you would promise to shape up, but you never really did. The women on the CFNM board agreed that you boys needed to be here, and here you are. These changes are as much for your benefit as ours, and you will thank us for them."

The women were still nodding while she took a breath and then continued.

"We know exactly what is going to happen this weekend and you don't and that gives us all the power. You will soon be naked of course, and we won't. Now, you will not only be naked, but you will be disciplined. Therefore, you will speak only when spoken to and you will do so by saying yes maam or, very rarely, no maam. If you try to intimidate or dominate, there will be an immediate frat paddling in addition to all of the rest of your spankings. If you use bad language, you will be standing with your nose up against the wall with a bar of soap in your mouth following that spanking. All you need to remember is that we are in charge and that there is nothing you can do to change that. You task is to do what you are told and enjoy it. Now is that clear? You will answer by saying Yes Maam."