The Art of Erotic Spanking

Chapter One-1

Chapter One

The Connoisseurs: The Afternoon Of The Nymphs

Higgins and Pickering thought of themselves as artists, or more modestly as craftsmen, following their singularly unique pursuit – the art of spanking women. For them, it was more than a hobby; some would say it had become an obsession. The two old friends were determined to joyfully sample each new thrill, to fully savor every single perverse delight, as they systematically explored the many variations on their peculiar theme.

From the doorway he could see them: two slim girls clad in tee shirts with small asses packed in tight jeans. They huddled together on the crushed velvet sofa that dominated the sunken living room. The blonde, Pickering judged to be in her early twenties; her companion a little even younger, maybe eighteen or nineteen. They had that freshly-scrubbed look of youthful innocence. Youthful they might have been, although certainly not innocent, thought Pickering, although, he had to admit, they didn’t look at all like call girls. Not at all his image of painted whores strutting about wiggling their bottoms in tight black dresses and wickedly high heels.

But Higgins had assured him: Claire would provide whatever sort of girls they were looking for. And so he was delighted, if not entirely surprised, when the two college girls had been shown up at Higgins’ fashionable apartment for the afternoon.

Higgins followed Pickering’s eyes as he took in the girls. He smiled knowingly. He knew what thoughts were going through his friend’s head. The two men knew each other well. They shared a passion: an amusing hobby, or a deranged obsession — depending on your point of view. They were connoisseurs, dedicated enthusiasts of their peculiar pursuit – the art of spanking women. All sorts of women, girls and ladies, housewives and whores had come under their hands. They ranged from mature women with generous asses that shook and wobbled like jelly when spanked, to young women with hard bodies and tight-cheeked bottoms: small buttocks which, when upended, drew the skin taut as a drum so that the spanking hand bounced off the hard, jutting curves imparting just the slightest shimmy. The kind of bottoms their visitors had now plunked down on Higgin’s crushed velvet couch.

On the day they first planned this special afternoon, the two friends were strolling back from lunch through the city park that ran adjacent to Worthington’s campus. They were enjoying the warm spring day, neither one in any particular hurry to get back to the office. The gravel path took them along a wrought iron fence that wrapped around a grassy knoll strewn with college students taking advantage of a just-about-perfect spring day, their nubile bodies sprawled about on the grass in various states of undress.

That part of town was alive with college kids who could be found working in shops, waiting on tables and tending bar. There were girls who made good money as dancers in the topless clubs that lined the alleyways of the Brooktown section. That others had found a way to put in much less hours, and earn even more money by turning tricks was hardly surprising. Some of the prettiest girls, looking for tuition money, ended up working for Claire.

Higgins took him to where their guests sat, smiling up at the two men.

“Girls, this is Mr. Pickering; Pickering, this is Jenn,” he said nodding towards the blonde, “and her friend, Courtney.”

Pickering took each proffered hand in his, unexpectedly thrilled by the touch of those small, delicate hands. It was all so absurdly formal.

Pickering took a chair directly across from the sofa, while Higgins went off to get a bottle of sherry and four glasses.

A few awkward moments passed sipping wine, before Higgins, who enjoyed playing host, decisively set down his half-filled glass, and rose to his feet.

“Well Claire has certainly set us a couple of pretty girls. Stand up; let’s get a good look at you.”

They rose to their feet. Jenn, the taller of the two, was a flat-chested blonde. Smooth ashen hair hung in lank folds to her collar, and crossed her brow in a row of even bangs. A dark maroon tank top hung loosely from narrow, fragile shoulders layering her shallow, practically tit-less chest. Her jeans were faded, but clean and well fitted, tapering down her lean hips and legs. She looked up at Higgins with a sparkling blue eyes and a small questioning smile.

Courtney was smaller and even more slightly built: a slim body with delicately rounded shoulders, straight arms and legs, and straight boyish hips wrapped in trim bluejeans. Pickering, eyeing up the small rounded knobs that tented the front of her apple green tee shirt, felt sure they would constitute two neat handfuls. The girl’s mop of dusky hair was short and loose. Under a swath of hair that angled down across the forehead of her small face, her eyes were bright and eager.

Pickering set aside his glass of sherry, eased back into the low rounded-backed chair, extending his long legs forward, crossing them at the ankles. He seemed prepared to let things unfold.

Higgins took charge, abruptly getting to his feet. “Shall we get started? Why don’t we have them undress?”

Without a word, the two began, reaching down to undo their sneakers; white cotton socks pulled off. As they stood bare-foot on the thick carpet just in front of the couch, and began to peel off their tee shirts, Pickering stopped them just as they were

“No, wait.” He turned to Higgins.

“Perhaps we should have them undress each other?”

“A capital idea.”

“Come, girls, you can help each other undress. But first, why don’t you kiss a bit?”

The two call girls took each other in a light embrace, and exchanged modest, sisterly kisses.

“Come on, now! Better than that. On the mouth! And let’s get a little tongue action going!”

This time their open arms drew each other in, lips met and mouths opened to accept probing tongues. And as their embrace tightened the two young women swayed, their hot bodies squirming against each other while they were locked in deep soulful kiss. Pickering felt a sudden surge of lust that powered the stirring in his pants.

When they finally separated both girls were a little flushed, lips parted in open breathing, but they managed a smile and looked at the men as though seeking their approval.

“Great!” Higgins nodded his encouragement. “Now go on, undress each other.”

Then men watched as Jenn gathered up the hem of Courtney’s tee shirt and drew the clingy garment up and over the girl’s head while Courtney helpfully raised her arms. Courtney’s tight little breasts emerged cozily nestled in a black brassiere, with n*****s dimly visible through an open lacework of the filigreed cups.

The girls did not hesitate. Ignoring the men, Courtney drew the tank top up and peeled it off exposing Jenn’s lithe torso banded by a small flowered brassiere; soft white pouches of milky white edged in deep blue trim and sprinkled with tiny periwinkles of purple and green. It was a bra worn more for decoration than anything else, for the slight rises on the blond girl’s maidenly chest hardly called for support.

Jenn now attacked Courtney’s belt, unbuckling, opening the jeans, working them down her hips while the brown-haired girl stood perfectly still, legs close together. Jenn dropped to her knees to skim the accordioned jeans down Courtney’s coltish legs. Courtney then went to work removing Jenn’s pants, and soon both girls were left standing before the men in their underwear.

Courtney’s nubile body looked delicious in black panties — a pair of low rise briefs. A satiny wedge at the reinforced crotch, layered the soft bulge of a gently-mounded pubis. The taller girl was equally inviting in her flowery underpants, thin hip huggers that banded her svelte loins and matched her delicate bra. A shadow of sparse pubic hair could be seen through the thin crotch.

“Very nice,” Pickering crooned in honest admiration.

Higgins could only nod his agreement.

“Hop to it now, girls. Get out of those undies!”

Again, it was Jenn who started, reaching for the smaller girl, who obligingly turned her back to allow easier access the clasp of the bra strap. Jenn undid the tiny catch and the bra seemed to pop open dangle from her shoulders releasing the girl’s little breasts that jutted out to greet the curious onlookers. Courtney’s jaunty t**s were taut and narrow and slightly conical in shape; the n*****s small brown caps. Pickering watched them jiggle slightly as their owner reached out to remove the blond girl’s brassiere.

The skimpy bra fell away to reveal a delightful surprise: for while the blond girl’s t**s were petite mounds, those delicate peaks were crowned with n*****s that were surprisingly large, protruding nubs – fleshy, plump n*****s of delicate pink that stood out, simply begging to be plucked and suckled.

Pickering found the sight of these two coltish nymphettes in their underpants to be especially inspiring, and he toyed with the idea of having them gamboling about the apartment bare breasted, wearing nothing but their panties. But his colleague was getting increasingly impatient, eager to get on with it. Although both men shared the same overwhelming, all-consuming passion, differences in their character and temperament meant they got to the same goal by different paths. Higgins was hot-blooded, amorous by nature, quick to become aroused, lustful and greedy, and eager to have his voracious appetite satiated. Pickering was also quick to arouse, but he had learned to cultivate a measure of control which he used to slow down the pace so as to wring every drop of pleasure from each new s****l experience.

Now both girls were moving in a business-like manner. Jenn approached Courtney, who stood with arms loosely at her sides, looking into her companion’s eyes. Jenn gave her friend a reassuring mile as she reached out for the other girl’s hips. Her thumbs slid into the elastic waistband and she drew the silky panties down those girlish hips, bringing to the light of day a lightly-furred p***y with its pale brown pubic hair. Jenn went to one knee; Courtney reached out to steady herself with her hand on the kneeling girl’s shoulder as she lifted each foot and her panties were removed.

Jen stood perfectly still while Courtney curled her fingers into the front of the flowered briefs and peeled Jenn’s panties down exposing to the admiring eyes of the on-looking males the narrow triangle of a cute, demure p***y adorned with wispy blond hairs.

Pickering’s full-blown erection was pressing with lustful urgency against the front of his pants as he got to his feet to help arrange the naked girls on the couch. They were urged to take places kneeling side by side on the seat cushions, facing the back of the couch. They inched forward until they could rest their chins on arms folded along the padded back. The position left the two with slightly arched backs and tight little butts sticking up in the air, in a most appealing invitation.

Thus posed, Higgins left the naked girls in Pickering’s care while he went to gather up the implements that they had planned to try out on those tight-cheeked young bottoms. When he returned from the kitchen he was holding a wooden spatula in his right hand, a rubber fly swatter in his left. He stood behind the waiting girls and silently offered both to his companion. Pickering hesitated, then accepted the fly swatter.

The girls were now watching over their shoulders as Higgins, with spatula firmly in hand, took his stance behind and just to one side of Courtney’s pert little rump, while Pickering stepped up to the plate, lightly smacking his palm with his weapon, all the while eyeing up Jenn’s sleekly narrow buttocks. At Higgins’ silent nod the two men began smacking those tempting girlish butts — beating a light, but steady, tattoo.

The flat blade of the wooden spatula slapped squarely across Courtney’s taut cheeked bottom, testing the bouncy resiliency of those supple cheeks and leaving them wobbling with a jello-like jiggle. The effect of the fly swatter whapping the other girl’s lean, hard-cheeked buttocks was less noticeable, but the whippy smack of floppy rubber slapping that tautly-drawn butt, and the way the girl jacked upward with each crisp slap suggested that the sting of the rubber was more terrible than the impact of the flat-bladed wood. The sounds of the dual spanking settled into syncopated rhythm.

The girls squirmed, twisting with each smack. Soon they were yelping in a curious contralto — thin, high-pitched squeals punctuating the regular smacks of the make-shift paddles on dancing girlish behinds. Between smacks, Jenn’s butt squirmed desperately as she tried to shake of the sting, while Courtney’s bouncing bottom rebounded and wiggled with each solid smack that indented her springy cheeks, and left its pinkish imprint.

The spanking wasn’t a particularly hard one; the connoisseurs got no pleasure in inflicting serious pain. But the crisp slaps were steady and unrelenting. Only followed by a brief respite after twenty smacks when the men changed places. Then the proffered bottoms were assaulted once again, this time with twenty more well-placed smacks. Pickering, the sweat beading on his brow, swung with a short, crisp snap of the wrist, sending the floppy rubber pad slapping all over the jutting curves of young Courtney’s dancing butt, each smack deepening the pinkish hue and evoking a tiny yelp as the girl twisted and arched up, unable to keep still. Jenn’s agile bottom was also gyrating with increased agitation under the spanking spatula, the hard wood blade splattering the firm, resilient mounds repeatedly as Higgins cheerfully swung the wicked weapon straight across the bounding cheeks, whacking that girlish bottom with a resounding thud

***

The two old friends sat comfortably sipping their wine, chatting idly in the fading afternoon. From time to time, their gazes would dwell fall on the slight figures of the two call girls who stood facing the walls in the far corners of the room. After their spankings, the girls had dressed in their tee shirts, shoes and socks, but their blushing bottoms were thus left on open display, exposed for the leisurely contemplation by their benevolent admirers. It was a time to reflect, to compare notes as to the effectiveness of their respective weapons, as the connoisseurs began to plan the next adventure in their obsessive, some would say ultimately futile, hunt for the perfect instrument to use on the perfect feminine bottom.