Public Spanking

Michael: I have spanked women outdoors, including one memorable time during a camping trip, and in front of friends at various birthday celebrations, but there has been only one occasion when I spanked a girl in public where strangers witnessed the event. I was walking with my then fiancée along a major four-lane boulevard in a big city on a gorgeous Saturday afternoon in September, the type of day when it’s still summer warm but the evening turns cool with a hint of upcoming autumn.

I must admit that at this point in our relationship we were one of those annoying couples you see who can’t keep their hands off one another. We would stroll down the street holding hands, arms around each of our waists, sometimes a hand stuffed in the back pocket of each others jeans palming a cheek, and worst of all, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk to deeply kiss, forcing people to slow and step around us like a Rodin speed bump.

On this day my fiancée was dressed for the late summer warmth in tight cutoff blue jeans and a gray sports bra worn as a top. As we ambled along the busy boulevard we came to a corner deli, intending to go inside for some ice cream, when she playfully thrust her hip into mine, knocking me off balance. She hit me perfectly in mid-stride, which caused my right foot to clip the heel of my left and I stumbled forward, almost falling before I regained my balance. I turned to look at her and she was biting her lower lip, swiveling her hips from side to side giving me her impish ‘I’m a naughty girl’ face.

I must have given her ‘The Look,’ as she had come to call it, because she suddenly bolted down the street and around the corner. I tore after her, caught her around the waist and scooped her up into my arms, and she squealed and I laughed. I wasn’t angry, but since she tripped me and THEN made me chase her, payback was now in order. We had ended up at the side entrance to the deli’s storeroom, which had two steps up to the screen door. I carried her over and sat on the top step, and flipped her across my lap.

She realized what I was about to do, and struggled as she pleaded, ‘No! No! Not out here!’

I said, ‘If you make noise you’re only going to attract attention.’

We were about thirty feet from the corner so all a passerby had to do was turn slightly to see us, and cars were parked along the side street, mostly blocking the view from those driving towards the crowded boulevard. I gazed down at her tight denim-covered bottom, her lower cheeks now sexily peeking out, and gave her a solid swat that sounded like a muffled gunshot in the city street. She jerked her head towards me and wailed ‘Nooooo!’ and I said, ‘Too late, beautiful,’ and proceeded to tattoo a rhythm alternating between her rounded cheeks.

As I spanked I kept lookout to make sure there was no real danger, and it appeared that none of the pedestrians or the people in passing cars noticed what was happening, but then an oversized pickup truck cruised down the side street. The young couple in the cab, high above the pavement, could see what I was doing to my fiancée, and the woman in the passenger seat gaped as she pointed at us and said something to the driver, who turned and stared straight at me, and then smiled. I told my fiancée, ‘Someone is looking at you,’ and she covered her face with her hands and started kicking her legs furiously. The truck passed and stopped at the corner for the light, and the driver leaned his head out the window and in a Spanish accent yelled, ‘Give it to her, Popi!’

I didn’t push our luck any further, and pulled my fiancée to her feet and gave her a big hug. She hugged back and hid herself in my chest, her face red with embarrassment and excitement, her nipples hard as little bullets inside her sports bra. As we started back towards the boulevard, still hugging, I heard a noise behind us and turned my head to see a boy about sixteen or seventeen peering at us through the deli’s screen door. We made eye contact and he gave a big toothy grin and a thumbs-up sign. I smiled and nodded to him but did not tell my fiancée he had witnessed her spanking – well, not until later. As we walked to my car I asked her how she felt and she shyly admitted her excitement, which was well in evidence. It wasn’t a long or particularly hard spanking. but the thrill of being outside amid strangers had gotten our juices flowing and our hormones raging. I drove to her apartment as fast as I could and we proceeded to tear up her bedroom.

I never spanked her in public again but the threat was always there, even after we were married, which excited the hell out of us both.

- Michael