Spank!

(Posted by Fi)

An eccentric Japanese girlfriend invited me to one of her famous “Super Happy Fun Dinner Parties” as she calls them. Usually it’s just an excuse for her to put her hair up in buns and wear her Cheongsam and play the doting mistress of the house. The only problem is that she comes across more like a B-list celebrity in Widow Twanky drag. It’s a shame but as her friend I just can’t bring myself to tell her that there’s a panto somewhere with her name on it.

After the original stir-fry evening she diversified to sushi, fondue and nouveau cuisine before trying to host a murder mystery dinner. The dinner was something of a failure due to my reluctance to play dead when there were such fine wines to be sampled that evening. I waved people away telling them that I was an alcoholic zombie and that they should pay me no attention, but if they could pass me the Russian Cigarettes I’d refrain from mauling them and eating their brains.

“This time diff’rent” she told me “You like this time. You wear something sexy.”

So I showed up in a cocktail dress with ruffles down the back and my hair up in a chignon. This turned out to be a monumental mistake. My definition of sultry sexy didn’t match her definition of trashy sexy. My friend had organised a spanking party.

The light bulbs had been replaced for red bulbs and a girl in a bikini covered in various finger foods and nibbles had replaced the dining table. I was surprised not to see cocktail sticks with pineapple and cheese cubes protruding from anywhere. My friend who was more bubbly than usual on these occasions handed me a carnival mask at the door. Everything was going so well apparently and everyone was having a very naughty good time, she assured me. It looked a lot like a budget version of Eyes Wide Shut.

My friend had enlisted the help of someone she’d met over the Internet who ran these sorts of parties in a similar vein to Tupperware parties, only with less plastic and more rubber. An assortment of canes and whips dangled from her hat stand and people kept brandishing paddles and looking for a willing bottom to practice on. I immediately felt a surge of anger when I realised that all the women were masked and all the men carried paddles.

The paddles turned out to be harmless slapsticks, with holes through the actual paddle part so they could cause a loud slapping noise without hurting. I found this out after I was struck with one as I dipped a carrot stick into the thousand-island-dressing in a dish on the bikini-girl’s hip as I gave her a polite smile that said “rather you than me”. The offending male was rather sheepish when I glared at him through my cat-mask and asked him what exactly he thought he was doing.

For some reason I couldn’t get the mental image of Michael Palin in Castle Anthrax out of my head as the eight score young blondes and brunettes, all between sixteen and nineteen-and-a-half, cut off in the castle with no one to protect them begged for a spanking, a spanking! And then the oral… no, hang on a moment. I spent most of the evening either sitting in a chair or standing against a wall to prevent anyone getting any ideas and left early. I’m adventurous, but not desperate.