The Shot Tower Ch. 01

"My goodness, that's quite a story," I said, and I realized that I'd been fidgeting in my chair and that Pam's home had become uncomfortably hot. "But what exactly is this tradition that Brian and Jane were talking about?"

"I actually don't know much about how the tradition started," she demurred, "I just know it grew out of that day's events 12 years ago. But you can talk to Don and Alita Rodriguez. They know better than I do what happened in the days and weeks following that disastrous picnic."

She wrote down their address for me and I headed home. As soon as I began to walk I was surprised to find that I was fizzy between the legs. Pam's story had generated images and that I couldn't get out of my head. Once home, I ran in and drew a hot bath for myself. As I lay back in the tub, soaking in the hot water, the images came back to me; images of a woman being spanked by leering men in the shot tower, images of her stripping in front of them, images of her bending down and asking the men for spanks, images of her legging it home naked as passers-by laughed at her—

"Marian! Are you ok?"

I nearly jumped out of my skin. It was Jane's voice, calling from outside the water closet door. I realized that I had been twisting my legs around each other and moaning out loud.

"It's ok," I called out to her, trying to think of an excuse for my noises, "I just ... uh ... twisted my ankle a bit in gym today and it's hurting, but I'll be fine."

"Alright, dear. Let me know if you need to go to the doctor."

I heard her footsteps fade away and I sat amazed and disturbed at how aroused I had been by Pam's story. I tried to replace these erotic thoughts with one of my standard fantasies about Bobby. I put a dry washcloth into my mouth to gag myself and then lay back in the tub and pictured him shirtless as we stood together in a field of lilacs. He held me close and I kissed his wide chest. But before long, the image changed: Bobby and I were not in the field anymore, we were in the shot tower and he was kissing me insistently on the mouth. The picture changed again and suddenly I was naked and he was pulling me up the stairs. Then I was bent over the sill of a window in the shot tower. Bobby was spanking me and calling me a naughty girl. I came powerfully and groaned through my gag. When it was over, I lay their panting and noticed that I had splashed a gallon or so of soapy water onto the water closet floor. Lest Jane or Brian see it, I had to get sop it up with a towel which I wrung out in the tub. I had to do this several times to get it all up.

The Tradition

The next evening, I was sitting in the living room of the Rodriguez's home. Don and Alito, who were also in their mid-thirties, were on the couch before me, shifting nervously. I had told them that Pam Sneed had sent me to get the story of the "tradition" at the shot tower. They evaded my question at first, but when I told them that Pam had already filled me in about the famous picnic-that-wasn't 12 years ago and the events that transpired in the shot tower, they reluctantly agreed to pick up the story from there.

"Well," Don began, "That the night after the non-picnic, many men in town, especially those who had participated in the spanking were pretty aroused. What surprised many of them was that that their wives/girlfriends were also turned on by the whole thing. This included both women who had been in the park and witnessed P-"

Alito cleared her throat loudly to interrupt and she gave him a significant look.

"Uh, right," he continued, "well, as I was saying it wasn't just the women who had seen ... uh ... the spanked woman's nude run home who were turned on by it. Those who only heard about the whole thing were aroused too. Many a woman in Springdale that night confessed to her man that she fantasized that it was she who had been publicly spanked. Similarly, many a woman whose man had not been present at the spanking found that her man was turned on by the idea of chastising a woman with a spanking. So, ... well, let's just say that a good many couples in town who had never tried S&M before tried it that night."

I noticed that Alita was blushing, but I ignored this and simply asked what the mysterious tradition was. Alita picked up the story.

"Well, a week or so later, one couple got a little bolder. They sneaked into the tower late one night when the rest of the town was sleeping and partially re-enacted the scene. The husband followed his wife up the stairs, spanking her."

"Who was this couple?" I asked.

"Nobody knows!" Don interrupted suddenly before Alito could answer. "I mean, it hasn't really been determined who was the first to ... uh ... use the shot tower." I noticed that he was now blushing too.

"Yes," Alito agreed looking at her husband, "nobody knows who that first couple was. Anyway, at each landing she took off an item of clothing and drop it down the shaft. Eventually, she was nude and her husband bent her over a window sill in the tower and spanked her, making her ask for each spank and thank him afterward. This was followed by some pretty great sex on the top of the tower."

"Great?" I asked.

"Yes ... well ...," Alito stammered, "I mean that's what I've been told. That it was great. Anyway, after it was over they retrieved her clothes from the bottom of the shaft and went home."

After a pause, Don continued the story.

"This couple began to make a regular thing of this. What they didn't know was that other couples in town had gotten the same idea and were doing their own S&M sessions in the shot tower. Well, you can guess what happened."

"It was inevitable," Alito interjected.

"Indeed," Don continued. "There came a day in mid-summer when a couple arrived at the tower around midnight. This particular couple decided they would begin with a warm up spanking before they made the climb up the stairs. The man sat on the third step from the bottom while his girlfriend pulled down her underpants to the ankles and pulled up her skirt. He then put her over his lap. He started to spank and soon she was twisting and begging to be let off."

I pictured this as Don talked and I was suddenly feeling hot just as I had at Pam's house. I undid the top button of my blouse. Why do Yanks keep their houses so hot? I thought.

Alito had been watching me and I thought I saw her eyebrow rise in surprise when I undid the button, but she simply continued the story, "After a particularly stingy smack, the woman involuntarily stiffened, which lifted her head. In this position, she was looking straight at the bottom of the shaft. And that's when she saw a woman's clothes, bra and underpants included, scattered around the bottom of the shaft. She pointed this out to her man and he paused in the spanking as they tried to puzzle out the meaning of these seemingly abandoned clothes. At almost the same moment, they heard a couple giggling somewhere above them on the stairs. They looked up just in time to see the other couple come into sight and stop on the lowest landing. The woman was bare naked and she was rubbing one hand on her butt."

"The two couples froze and stared at each other in astonishment for several seconds," Don continued.

"That must been awkward," I interjected.

"Oh, that's not the half of it," said Don. "You see the two couples were best friends."

"Oh, my goodness! How ... how ... ," I searched for words, "how excruciatingly embarrassing that must have been."

"Indeed," said Alito, "and there was no way that either party could explain away what they were doing there. After all, one woman was over her boyfriend's lap bottomless and the other was completely nude."

"And both had pink butts," Don added.

"Well, somehow they got through the moment without actually dying of embarrassment. The two women got their clothes on and the two couples walked out of the park together. But since each now knew that the other was into S&M, there was no point in not talking about it, so they next time they were together for a social occasion, they agreed to go together to the tower that night for a joint S&M scene. Both women ended up getting long bare-bottomed spankings from each of the men."

I felt beads of sweat along my hairline. Alito was looking at me. Her smile was knowing, almost a smirk.

"Well, as we said," Don continued, "lots of couples were using the tower, so over the following months there were more and more accidental meetings, and—"

"more and more mergers of S&M scenes," Alito completed his sentence. "Couples became foursomes, four became six, and then eight or more."

"And some of those accidental encounters were more memorable than others," Don smiled.

"How so?" I asked.

"Well," Alito responded, giggling, "there was a young couple in town who were engaged to be married that autumn. Their parents had been friends for years. Anyway, this couple decided to do a little S&M experimenting in the tower one night not long before the wedding. When they reached the top of the tower, the young girl was naked, weeping, and rubbing her very red bottom, while the young man had an erection that forced him to open the fly of his pants and shorts, so he was protruding, if you get my meaning."

"So?" I wondered out loud.

"So," she continued, still giggling, "when they got to the top they found both sets of parents there: each mother was lying naked over the lap of the other woman's husband being thoroughly spanked as she kicked, twisted, and sniffled."

"Oh, my God!" I exclaimed. It was my turn to giggle, and both Don and Alito joined me in laughter.

After a moment, I recovered from my giggling fit enough to ask a question: "So, is that the tradition that Brian, Jane, and Pam were talking about? Using the shot tower for S&M scenes?"

"Well, no, actually, the tradition is one special S&M scene," Don explained. "That March the last game of the high school's basketball team was an away game at night in a town about two hours down the highway. By coincidence, one local TV station was showing the latest Toy Story movie that same night and another station was showing the latest Harry Potter. So virtually every underage person in the town was occupied that night, either out-of-town at the game or glued to the TV."

"That meant that parents all over town were free to socialize," Alito elaborated. "So many of the couples and small groups that were doing the S&M scenes, scheduled a scene at the shot tower for that evening, unbeknownst to each other."

"I can guess what happened," I jumped in, "all these groups arrived at the shot tower that night, each expecting to have it to themselves."

"Exactly," said Don, "it was kind of a giant-sized version of the awkward discoveries that had been happening in the tower all year. Well, no one was quite ready for a giant-sized S&M scene that night, so all these groups went home disappointed."

"But," Alito joined in, "the secret was out. Now everybody that was into S&M knew that most of the town was into it as well. So some meetings were held. It was decided that at the next town picnic on the Saturday before Memorial Day, the underage kids would be taken home by late afternoon. But adults who were into S&M could return to the park a bit later. Parents would hire high school kids to babysit their children."

"So," I asked, "what happens after the adults return?"

"There's a re-enactment of the original spanking," Don explained, "except instead of just one woman, any adult in town with masochistic desires can come to be spanked and possibly humiliated in other ways."

"And," Alito added, "any adult can come and be a spanker."

"Well," said Don, "long story short, it was a smashing success, and it was quickly decided to do it every year."

"We'll keep the details secret, if you don't mind," Alito said. "But if you decide to participate this year then you'll discover how it all works."

"And that, Marian," said Don, "is the tradition."

"I see," I mused out loud. "But what about the woman who was originally spanked for forgetting to order the meat? I presume she left town out of sheer embarrassment. Whatever became of her?"

Alito and Don surprised me by laughing heartily at my question.

"That's another thing you'll probably find out if you participate this year," said Don.

My walk home from the Rodriguez's house was a repeat of my walk home from Pam's: I was immediately aware that I was very wet between my legs. I couldn't stop thinking about the episodes Don and Alito had described, and I was practically squishy by the time I arrived home.

Once again, I made straight for the bath. This time I remembered to gag myself with a dry washcloth right from the start. As I lay naked in the hot soapy water slowly stroking myself, I closed my eyes and invented pictures to go with the scenes in Alito and Don's story.

Before long, the man in my pictures became Bobby and I became the woman. It was Bobby who sat on the low step in the shot tower and it was me who obediently peeled down my knickers, held up my skirt, and submissively lay across his lap. It was me who kicked and bawled and begged for mercy as he gave me a thorough spanking.

Then it was me who was spanked in a group scene on a landing in the shot tower. Except that in my imaginary version, the other girls were not spanked with me. They were spankers just like the boys; I was the only spankee, the only one who bent naked pushed out her bottom and politely asked for each spank and then, sniffling, thanked the spanker afterward.

Then it was me at the top of the tower, where Bobby and another boy traded partners and, thus, it was me lying naked over the lap of the other boy who gave me a long bare bottomed spanking while I kicked and twisted and cried as Bobby spanked the other girl nearby.

So it was me who was surprised when a third couple arrived at the top, but in my version of the scene, they were not a betrothed couple with a pink-bottomed girl and a boy with a visible stiffy. They were my parents magically transported from England, fully clothed and carrying paddles.

"You naughty, naughty girl," my Mummy exclaimed in outrage. Moments later I was bent over naked facing Bobby, my arms around his waist and my face pressed against his bare, hard, belly. My legs were spread wide and my parents were taking turns paddling me.

"Thank you, Mummy. Thank you, Daddy," I called out tearfully after each smack as Bobby held me in place and he and the other two kids watched and laughed.

My climax was the most powerful of my young life: my hips took on a life of their own and pumped up and down furiously several times, rising up out of the water and then, a split second later, slamming my bottom back down into it again. This created a virtual gale in the tub and, once again, I splashed gallons of soapy water onto the water closet floor. In my throes, I hadn't noticed that the washcloth had dropped from my mouth and, as I came, I heard my own voice call out "Oh, Bobby!"

I froze in mortification. Had Brian or Jane heard me? I wondered. But there was no sound from the hallway and I relaxed and set to work sopping up the water.

A Decision

The next morning at breakfast I told Jane and Brian that the Rodriguezes had told me all about the tradition. Then I told them that I had decided to participate this year as a spankee.

I had been expecting, hoping even, that they would be shocked, but they showed no surprise at all.

"Well, if you are sure that's what you want, dear," Jane said. Brian hardly glanced up from his newspaper.

"You're not surprised, then?" I asked ... surprised.

"Well, actually, Marian, I heard you ... ah ... hurt your ankle ... the other night, and Brian heard lots of splashing in the bathroom last night, so I took the liberty of calling Pam and Alito after you went to bed. They both told me that you seemed quite affected by their stories."

I was mortified. I felt my face burn and it must have turned red as an apple. They knew or at least they suspected.

"I- I don't know what they could be talking about," I stammered, feigning outrage. "I wasn't affected at all."

"I understand, dear," Jane smiled, "but you know there'd be nothing to be embarrassed about. As you've no doubt figured out by now, Brian and I participate every year."

"However," Brian said, putting down the newspaper, "you are a bit young for this sort of thing. Maybe you should start your adult sex life in a slower lane. S&M can be pretty intense, and I mean that in an emotional sense. Also, it's not likely there will be anyone else your age there."

"But anyone over 18 is eligible. Isn't that the rule?" I asked. "I've been 18 for six weeks now."

"Yes, that's true," Jane confirmed, "and we've had 18 year old participants a few times in the past, but we don't go out of our way to tell people that young about the tradition. Most people in town don't learn about it until they're around 21 or so."

"And, even then," Brian added, "they usually take a couple of years to work up the courage to participate."

"They often ask if they can come and just observe the first time," Jane continued, "but that's not allowed."

"Nope," Brian affirmed, "it's all or nothing when it comes to participation. Also, you can't start and then drop out before it's over. Once you start up the steps, you have to go all the way to top. That's another rule."

I promised them that I'd think it over some more, but that night in bed I had more fantasies about being publicly dominated by Bobby and I knew I was going to go through with it.

Don't stop now! Find out what happens to Marian when she participates in the tradition in chapter 2.