The Shot Tower Ch. 03

A small person might have small muscles and not swat as hard, I reasoned, so I crawled over to the shoes on the feet at the bottom of those legs.

I dropped the paddle in front of the feet and said, "Please give me four spanks with this paddle."

"Four?!" a voice from far to the right exclaimed. "Is that all? Four is hardly worth the trouble of pickin' up the paddle from the floor."

There were some general murmurs of agreement from the small crowd around me.

"Now, now," another voice said. "You all know the rules: it's her choice. And besides she's a first-timer. Give her a break."

This brought the murmuring to a stop.

The men in front of the dominant that I'd chosen stepped aside and I looked up from his feet to see his face. I gasped out loud when I saw who it was. Oh, no, I thought, this is too much. Erotic humiliation turns me on but, please God, not him!

It was Lumpy.

There he was in all his chubby, pimpled glory, leering down at me as I knelt naked before him. His grin was so wide, you couldn't even call it ear-to-ear. I think it extended behind his ears and met in the back! This was clearly the happiest moment of his life.

I instinctively clapped one hand over my pubs and the other arm over my breasts.

"Ut, ut! We'll have none of that covering up, now, missy," said the same man who had defended my choice of only four swats. "You've got to follow the rules, too. That's going to cost you an extra swat."

I reluctantly dropped my hands to my sides and looked down so I wouldn't see Lumpy's leering face.

"Now, young man," the authoritative man continued, "you seem to be a first-timer, too. Tell the girl how you want to paddle her; specify the position and any other details."

"I want her lying across my lap!" Lumpy exclaimed.

"And?" It was the voice of the man who complained about my choice of only four swats.

"And what?" asked Lumpy.

"Confound it," the older man continued, "don't you want to add some spice to it? Why don't you at least make her thank you politely for each swat."

"Oh, ok. ... uh ... Yeah ... That sounds good," Lumpy declared uncertainly. "Let's do that."

"And, since there are only going to be five counting the penalty swat," another man suggested, "why don't you have her compliment you by name for each swat, too, and show you how much she likes it. And make her use a different compliment each time."

"Yeah, alright. That sounds good, too," Lumpy agreed as he gained confidence.

"And make her ask for each swat, too," another voice proposed.

"Ok, good. This is going to be great," Lumpy exclaimed, and although I was looking down I could practically hear him rubbing his hands together in glee. "Hey," he suddenly asked, "can I hold one of her tits while I paddle her?"

There was a chorus of responses:

"Absolutely"

"Sure can, kid"

"Good idea"

Seconds later Lumpy was sitting in the folding chair near the pile of spanking tools. I crawled over to him, and then, sniffling with shame, I rose up and draped myself over his lap, placing my palms on the floor, my smooth young naked pink bottom displayed for him.

He wasted no time before cupping my left breast in his left hand and I felt him stroke my bare backside with the paddle. The sheer familiarity of it was infuriating, but I held my temper. I wanted to get this over with so I didn't wait for anyone to tell me to ask for the first spank.

"Please, give me a spank, Lumpy," I said.

Swat! The paddle hit me square in the middle of my still tender buns.

"Oww!" I exclaimed. It wasn't quite as bad as the switch, but it came with a lot more sting than a bare hand.

"Thank you, Lumpy," I said, through gritted teeth, "that was a very good spank. Please give me another."

"Glad to, Marian," he sneered. "But this time spread your legs wide."

It took all my will power not to rise up and slap him or run away, but I knew I had to obey. Closing my eyes in shame, I spread my feet about three feet wide.

"Wider!" he commanded. "As wide as they'll go, and hold your feet off the ground."

"That's usin' your noodle kid," one of the onlookers approved. "Now yer getting' the idea."

I obeyed, lifting my legs and spreading them so wide they were nearly a straight line from foot to hips to other foot. It was like doing "the splits" in dance class, except I was lying instead of sitting on the floor. I began to whimper in ignominy knowing that I was giving this chunky loser from my high school, not to mention the rest of the audience, a close up view of my bottom bud and my mons.

"She must really be enjoying your spanking, Lumpy," a voice called out, "look how wet she is."

"Damn, you're right," Lumpy said, "she must really be into me."

This brought a chuckle from the assembled audience, but Lumpy did not seem to realize they were chuckling at him, and he began to knead my breast with his fingers.

SWAT! He brought the paddle down hard on my right buttock. I jerked as the pain took my breath away for a second.

"Arrgh! ... [huh] ... Thank you, Lumpy," I said gasping. "That was another good one. May I please have another?"

"Not so fast," said another voice, "you can't repeat the same compliment. It has to be different each time."

"Oh ... uh ... in that case," I searched for words, "uh ... that swat was exquisite, Lumpy. I fancy another if you please."

SWAT! The opposite bun this time, but otherwise a repeat. I jerked again.

"Errgh! Ow! ... [gasp] ... thank you, Lumpy," I paused trying to think of another way of complimenting a blow from a paddle. "Um ... that was ... um ... very stingy."

This brought more chuckles and this time I knew it was me that was being laughed at. I also realized that despite my horror at debasing myself over the lap of this nerd, I was getting powerfully aroused.

SWACK! This time the hit the lowest part of me between my wide spread legs. Another half-inch lower and it would have been a spank on the pubes instead of the butt. It stung horribly and tears came to my eyes.

"Ooowwwuhh!" I called out as I began to twist involuntarily on his lap.

"Hey," a voice suddenly spoke, "she's supposed to show the boy how much she enjoys it, not just compliment him, remember?"

"That's right," said the voice of authority. "Alright, miss, you've still got your penalty swat coming for covering up. Now let's see you demonstrate your appreciation of the young man's paddling you."

Tears rolled down my face, whether from pain or mortification would be hard to say. As Lumpy began again to roll my left nipple between his thumb and finger, I tried to think of something that would "show" I wanted the paddling.

It actually wasn't as hard to come up with something as it would have been before this evening began or, for that matter, before this paddling began. My own arousal — the sea of erotic humiliation I was immersed in — gave me inspiration. I thought of Pam bending and grasping her ankles during the intensity-stop and of Jane arching her back as she was switched right here. The memories brought a new gush to my biff.

Keeping my hands on the floor, I brought my legs down and together again. I then planted my feet and straightened my knees. The effect was to thrust my bottom up off Lumpy's lap and closer to his face. This put me in a kind of jack-knife position, with my weight on my hands and feet. Then I spread my feet again. Finally, I arched my back which rolled up my bottom and pubis as if I was offering them to one and all to partake of as they wished.

This brought surprised gasps of approval from the encircling dominants.

"This has been a wonderful paddling, Lumpy," I said. My voice was breathy, but more from arousal now than pain. "Exactly the way I fancy it. Now, please give me one more, hard, right on my naughty naked bum."

More and louder expressions of surprise were elicited by my request, but I had no time to reflect on this.

SMACK! He brought the paddle down hard in the middle of my bum. My head jerked up and my hips jerked down to slam into his lap.

"Oooouuuggghhh!" I cried. "Oh, oh, God ... hurts ...Errh."

I was powerless to stop myself from rubbing my crotch side to side on Lumpy's lap and I felt my butt clench and unclench as if the pain could be squeezed away. I knew I was giving him and the surrounding doms a lewd show, but I could not stop: I lay there wiggling helplessly for several seconds while they hooted and cheered.

Finally, I got enough control of my body to slide off Lumpy's lap down to my hands and knees again. I thanked him for paddling me and then took the paddle in my mouth again and dropped it on the pile. Gingerly, I crawled out of the group and they turned their attention to another submissive that had arrived.

Humility Training

As soon as I had crawled a few feet away from the extra punishment area, I stopped to rub my bottom with both hands, remembering to lay the side of my face on the floor and keep my bottom up, as Alito had instructed me earlier.

I was hurting, but I was also more aroused than I had ever been, by a factor of 100. I could bite my arm off to climax. I needed an orgasm more than anything I had ever needed, more than food, more than water, more than I needed my pride. And I knew just where to get one. I didn't even consider heading to the fire escape and going home. Still on my hands and knees, I made a beeline for the humility training.

When I got there, the small crowd of men parted to let me in. I crawled forward and saw Jane and Pam in the centre of the circle illuminated by the torches. Between them was a small box of dildos and vibrators. Beside the box, was an odd looking cone pointed upward. It was about two feet in diameter at the bottom and tapered to a rounded point at the top which was about a foot and a half high. It was covered with black leather or maybe it was that awful fake American leather, naugahyde.

Jane was kneeling with her hands at her side. She was looking down. I could see that her hair, in both places, was a dishevelled mess.

But it soon became obvious that Jane was currently the side show, for the crowd's attention was focused on Pam. She was also kneeling before them with her head bowed humbly and her knees widely spread. A dildo protruded prominently from her love tunnel. When I arrived, she was engaged in a dialog with a man in a policeman's uniform.

"And what happened next?" he asked her in a stern voice.

"They made me climb down the fire escape bare-naked," Pam replied.

"And how did that make you feel?"

"Embarrassed, but also it turned me on."

"Were you wet, Pam?"

"Yes, I covered my pussy with my hand so no one would see."

"So what did you do when you got to the bottom of the fire escape?"

"They wouldn't let me put any clothes on. I had to run home naked through the streets."

Wait, I thought to myself. This sounds familiar. This is what happened to the original girl who forgot to order meat for the picnic 12 years ago.

The voice of the minister interrupted my thoughts, "And did this embarrass you, also?"

"Yes."

"But it turned you on, too, didn't it, Pam?"

"Yes. Very much."

"What did you do when you got home, Pam?"

"I played with myself over and over all night long."

"What were you thinking about when you diddled yourself, Pam?"

"I was remembering how they punished me publicly for forgetting to get the meat."

Forgetting to bring the meat! I thought, Bloody hell! This is the story of the original spanked girl. Pam was that girl! When Pam was telling me about those events, she was ... talking about herself! I realized too at that moment why the Rodriguezes laughed when I assumed that the original punished girl had left town. Pam hadn't gone anywhere. She stayed and became a thoroughgoing masochist — an enthusiastic participant in The Tradition.

"Alright, Pam," the minister resumed. "It's been pretty clear over the last 12 years that you are a shameless nympho-masochist. Would you like to have an orgasm, now?"

"Yes, yes. Please. May I?"

"You may. Go ahead and play with yourself, now."

Pam needed no further prompting; she immediately grabbed the dildo and began to slide it in and out. She must have already been pretty close to orgasm because she climaxed in no more than 30 seconds, giving out a series of high pitched cries as she did. After a short rest, she began pumping the dildo again.

"No, no, Pam" the policeman commanded. "You've had your climax for now."

"But, Jane had two," Pam whined; and Jane, already looking down as she knelt there, shamefully lowered her head even more.

The news that Jane had brought herself to orgasm in front of these people did not come as a surprise, but I was shocked nevertheless at the thought of my host mother wantonly wanking while a crowd of people watched.

"I know," the policeman's voice interrupted my thoughts, "but this is your second trip to humility training tonight, so I think we are being more than fair. If you are good, then perhaps you can have more later, but now I think it is only fair that we give our attention to this young lady who has just joined us."

Pam acquiesced and bowed her head. All eyes turned toward me.

"Now," the policeman continued, "who will guide this young girl's confession?"

There was a chorus of volunteers from the surrounding dominants. Quarrels immediately broke out.

"Hey, it's my turn," I heard one voice say.

"No, it isn't, I was next," another replied.

"You both already had a turn," said a third voice, "no one's confessed to me yet."

"Alright, settle down all of you," the policeman said. "I think I know of a way to make this extra special for the young lady." Then, pointing to someone behind me, he asked "aren't you her ... what-do-you-call-it? ... foster dad?"

"Host father," a voice from behind corrected him. It was Brian! He had been here watching his wife wanking in full view of these people!

"Right, that's what I meant — 'host father'," the policeman said. "Why don't you guide her confession? It's always best when the guide knows the secrets of the humility trainee, or is in a position to make educated guesses about them."

"Very well," Brian said, and he stepped from behind me to trade places with the policeman.

For a second time that night, my instincts to cover up took over and I clapped an arm over my breasts and a hand over my mound. I thought I had been embarrassed during the first Humility Corner when I had to drape myself over Brian's lap and ask for a swat, but at least I was fully dressed at the time. This was infinitely worse. Now my host father was seeing me naked!

A dozen voices called out at once, all saying nearly the same thing.

"Covering up!"

"She's covering!"

"... using her hands to cover ..."

I quickly dropped my hands back to my sides. By squeezing my legs together I could hide all but the top of my furry triangle, but my breasts were visible and I became acutely and shamefully aware that my nipples were erect and that Brian could not possibly miss this. All I could do was bow my head in mortification.

"Well, Marian," Brian began, "a lot of people were surprised to see you here tonight and they've taken be aside to tell me some things about you that I hadn't known. Is it true, Marian, that you have been rude and arrogant to the other students at the high school?"

"What? ... no ... I mean ... well ... some of them are so ... they are just so childish—"

"Enough!" Brian interrupted my rambling, "I gather from the way that you are beating around the bush that the answer is 'yes'."

"Um ... I- I guess so ... sometimes."

"Hmm, Jane and I have been treating you like an adult — like an equal. Maybe that was a mistake. It appears that there are some ways in which you are not so mature after all. I'm beginning to think that you needed more discipline from us. I have to think about that. But for now let's move on to other matters. Jane and I have found the bathroom floor sticky with soap twice this month right after you have finished a bath."

"Oh? Well, yes, I guess I was careless. Sorry about that."

"Careless?" Brian asked. "I don't think it was carelessness. On both occasions you were splashing furiously in the tub. Jane heard you the first time and I heard you the second. What were you doing?"

I heard murmurs of puzzlement from the surrounding doms. They were wondering what Brian was getting at.

"Um ... I was ... uh ... just washing, that's all," I lied.

"Oh, really? Just washing?" he asked with exaggerated incredulity. "Jane heard you moaning while you were splashing and you told her you'd twisted your ankle in school, but you weren't limping that evening and you'd walked all the way back from Pam's house. On the second occasion I heard you moaning and it did not sound like a moan of pain. I ask you, again, what were you doing?"

I only shrugged, hoping he would be satisfied with that. But the crowd now understood what he was implying and I heard many chuckles.

"Marian," he resumed, "do I need to remind you that on the first occasion you had just heard a salacious story from Pam and that on the second occasion you'd just heard an equally titillating story from the Rodriguezes?"

"Ok, ok," I said, and then my voice dropped to a whisper, "I was wanking."

"What's that, Marian?" Brian asked. "Say that louder so we can all hear. What were you doing in the tub?"

This time I spoke louder, "Maybe I was wanking a little."

There were murmurs of puzzlement about the word 'wanking' and Brian ordered me to explain, "Tell the people what 'wanking' means, Marian."

"It means ... uh ... masturbate," I answered. "I was masturbating."

"Indeed, and pretty vigorously from the sound of all the splashing," Brian confirmed. This brought titters of laughter from the crowd and I hung my head in shame.

"Now," he continued the cross-examination, "who is Bobby?"

What!?! I thought. How does he know about Bobby? I decided to play dumb.

"Who?"

"Don't try our patience, Marian," Brian said firmly, but with enough kindness in his voice to suggest that he understood how difficult this was for me. "You called out his name on the last occasion you masturbated in the tub."

"Um ... he's ... um," I stalled trying to think of a movie star named 'Bobby'. It would be infinitely less embarrassing to pretend I wanked off to thoughts of some far off celebrity, but I couldn't think of any celebrities named 'Bobby'.

"We're waiting, Marian," said Brian insistently.

"Uh ... it- it's just some boy at school," I stammered.

"So," Brian summed up, "you are thinking of this Bobby while you play with yourself. And what sort of fantasy do you have about Bobby?"

"We're only snogging and stuff," I lied, and I heard some sceptical chortles from the onlookers.

"'Snogging'? You mean kissing? That's all? Just kissing?" Brian asked, and I realized how unbelievable this was as a sexual fantasy.

"Well, then we make love, too." I added, hoping that would be all the detail required.

"And does Bobby dominate you in these fantasies?"

"Um ... well ... yes, a little, I guess."

"Spank you?"

"Yuh- yuh- yes," I nearly whispered.

"Speak up, Marian!" Brian commanded. "What does Bobby do to you in your fantasies?"

"He- He spanks me," I said louder, my voice choking a little with embarrassment. But I realized that in the course of this humiliating interrogation, my arousal had grown again. The hardness of my nipples must have been obvious to everyone.

"That's better," Brian concluded.

"Now," he said to one of the men standing there, "bring the cone over here."