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| Coulter and Hotter the Crimson Kid CrimsnKid6 (at) aol (dot) com Category: Adult
All rights reserved. This story's setting is late June of 2008 at the Ramone residence in a residential subdivision in the U.S.A. The hard rubber paddle repeatedly cracked against my backthrust naked buttocks, making me groan and grimace as I struggled against childish wails, but it proved ultimately true that "Resistance is futile." Not even my moral superiority over the woman blistering my bare behind, right-wing ideologue Ann Coulter, could prevent the tears from flowing or my hips from squirming–although the restraint hold she was employing, right leg across my thighs and left hand pinioning my right wrist, made my struggles merely annoying to her. Her curt voice counted the blazing paddywhacks, audible over my hapless howling as I was soundly spanked pants-down over her knee for my "treason" in dissenting vehemently against the "Dubya" Administration. "Get up now," she instructed after ten dozen resounding swats, "Then I'll expect an apology once you've finished bawling." Blubbering but unbroken, I faced her defiantly. "Nuh-No ap-apology for op-oposing yuh-you mih-militaristic anti-libertarians, Ms. Coulter." ************************************************************* "What are you talking about, Paul?" Joanna Ramone demanded. "You've been punished for being personally insulting during our debate, not for disagreement itself. Were you pretending that I was Ann Coulter?" My gaze averted. "Perhaps, ma'am…" Her eyes flashed. "Comparing me to that extremist, I won't stand for it!" Momentarily I found myself jackknifed over the couch's back, the seat flap of my Sisterhood punishment outfit still lowered; my upthrust.exposed posterior felt her thin cane tap them as she adjusted her stance while gripping the nylon-covered fiberglass rod. "You're thinking Coulter," she noted, "But I'll make your 'seat of learning' hotter." That she certainly did, administering thirty exquisitely sizzling swishes across the base of my buttcheeks that left me blubbering helplessly while rubbing the fiercely throbbing weals crisscrossing my 'sit spots' afterward. "I'm truly hurt that you'd think of me that way," Joanna admonished, although I myself was hurting plenty physically. "Dih-Didn't your Luh-League of Ree-Republican W-Women spah-onsor her sp-speech at the univ-ahhversity?" I asked. She shrugged. "Ms. Coulter's a prominent female conservative." "Yuh-You introduced huh-her as 'a great American aww-author," I remonstrated. Joanna looked uncomfortable. "Her books gain support for the party." My tear-filled eyes met hers."B-By claiming that dih-dissent is treasonous, by wanting to repeal the First Amendment." Her gaze averted. "I don't agree with any of that." I managed a wry smile. "You just praise and promote someone who writes it." That night my wife Barbara emphatically paddled my defenseless derriere with her sturdy wooden hairbrush, immediately before which she'd made me bend nude over our sofa's arm while her 'whipping strap' cracked relentlessly against my bare bottom, both butt-blisterings searingly painful as delivered atop my recently received caning stripes. Sniffling afterward, I lay prone on the bed while my loving lifemate massaged aloe cream onto my ravaged rump. "Will this make you think twice before losing your cool arguing politics?" she prompted. "I'll truly try, honey," I whimpered. "When's my reminder spanking?" She stroked my hair. "Cancelled, honeybun, at Joanna's insistence." Relief flooded my awareness. "Why?" "She appreciated the food for thought…" |
| Readers
Comments: |
| Mary:
gemcollector2001 (at) yahoo (dot) com This was a very interesting story to read. I must admit that I do not know the first thing when it comes to politics so I was a bit lost when reading about that end of the story, however I do believe that the story carried itself well enough around the mention of the politics and Ann herself. It was a bit confusing with the addition of his wife Barbara at the end and no explanation of who Joane was in relation to him in the spanking area. I did however like how in the end of the piece it was her who saved him a reminder spanking by his "food for thought". This was a type of story that I haven't read before and I enjoyed it. |
| Steven:
js (at) smilingwithteeth (dot) com As someone who does not pay a great deal of attention to politics or political history, some of these stories are a bit difficult for me to follow, with regard to the names of characters who might actually be people who really did exist. Also the theme of she spanks him for arguing politics does little for me on the enjoyment scale. I try to look for buzz words in a spanking story but this type of story gives me none of the buzz words I would expect to read in a spanking story. There was no description of the characters involved in this story either. Was Paul spanked by two women in this story? |
| Winks:
irishwinks (at) bresnan (dot) net I really liked this story. It was amusing on one hand but, since I share the protagonist's political beliefs, it kind of ticked me off too. I just wanted to use the cane myself on that butt-kissing Coulter supporter. I liked too how it went from the fantasy of being caned by Coulter to the woman's (relation uncertain) insulted stance at being compared to Coulter. I suspect that the author has these characters well-defined in his mind and has written about them a lot. They are not so well-defined for the reader however, and that left me confused. At first I assumed that Johanna was the life partner. Then Barbara came into it at the end and I kind of said, "Huh?" But that's a good indication that I was very engaged with the story. I found the end satisfying too, since the protagonist seemed to have gotten his message through to Johanna. It was Johanna's identity, her relationship to the protagonist, that left me puzzled. Still, I quite enjoyed the story and the predicament. Lots of good spanking going on too. |
| Kris:
worsci (at) webtv (dot) net If she'll punish him for this little bit of dissent, I wonder what would happen to Paul's behind if she found his secret stash of Al Franken books? Does he smuggle them into the house, stashing them between the mattresses? Or did he put an O'Reilly dust jacket over one and hide it in plain sight? Oh, the guilty pleasure of being found out. |
| Hal:
janhaltn (at) gmail (dot) com This story was a little confusing to me. I get more then enough daily emails to know who Ms. Coulter is. I have not read any of her books, but I have read some of her columns. After reading parts here and there, I was able to follow the story. But the flow was not smooth. I also understand that the writer was attempting to have the spankee talk, while still crying. This is their story, but I do wish that the exchange would have been a little clearer. A total of 120 swats with a hard rubber paddle would have anybody in tears and howling. That did make for an interesting word picture. Adding on 30 with what amounts to a cane, would deliver a lesson that anybody would quickly understand. This was an interesting story. I look forward to reading more by this writer. |