Becky Spanks Herself (by Al Gore)

I "found" this in Drafts dated from August of last year. Sorry for losing it Al.

I got home early one afternoon, there was a sound, a rhythmic thump, almost like someone was playing a game in the bedroom. My first thought was the cat was doing something weird, funny, or cute, so I tried to be quiet. As I made my way upstairs to our bedroom, I noticed the door was ajar, and the soft, muffled sound grew clearer. It was a steady, rhythmic smack. Curiosity piqued, I tiptoed closer, not wanting to disturb the cat. But when I reached the door, I realized the smacking was definitely not coming from our cat. It was a sound I had heard before, but not exactly like this, and certainly not from Becky. Becky stood in the middle of the room, naked, with a reddened bottom, with my favorite ping pong paddle in her hand. Her eyes were closed and a look of intense concentration on her face.

Becky's hair was wet, plastered to her skin from a recent shower. The damp towel she had wrapped around herself was now discarded on the bed. Her pink ass still glistened with a light sheen of water, and the scent of her freshly washed body filled the room. She brought the paddle down on her cheek again, a smack that echoed in the room. The sound of the paddle on bare ass, wet and firm, followed by a small hop and a guttural moan that sent a shiver down my spine. I had never seen her do this before, and she was so...vocal. The next smack was to her thigh, a little softer, but no less impactful. Her thigh quivered with the sting, and she let out a sound that was somewhere between a yelp and a sigh of satisfaction. I so wished I could record this moment to listen to it later, her moans and squeaks, the smack of the paddle, the symphony of her self-inflicted pleasure.

The rhythm grew faster as Becky's breathing grew heavier. She had always told me she liked it when I spanked her by hand, but her paddling was so much harder than I ever had..  It was fascinating and a little intimidating. I felt a twinge that I had not gone far enough, but it was quickly replaced by admiration for her ability to enjoy such spanking. I had always been careful, mindful of her limits, but here she was, pushing past them with an intensity I had never seen.

Becky did one more quick flurry of smacks, alternating between her cheeks and thigh, building up to a crescendo of moans and sighs. She opened her eyes, and the moment she saw me, a flash of embarrassment crossed her face. Her hand froze mid-air, the paddle hovering over her reddened ass. For a second, we just stared at each other, the silence thick with anticipation. Then she took a deep breath, and her face softened into a smirk. She let out a shaky laugh. "Well," she said, trying to play it cool, "you're just in time for lunch."