Spanking Tournament of Champions
Copyright on this story text belongs at all times to the original author only, whether stated explicitly in the text or not. The original date of posting to the MMSA was: 24 Feb 2018
It all began with a boast at the Moonburn spanking party in Los Angeles.
That dude has the toughest
butt here, maybe in the entire country, Max said to a few of his assembled friends, after administering
a blistering paddling to Billy, a regular well into his 30s who still looked like a teen, earning him
Billy the Twink.
No fucking way, Colin replied.
He can take a paddling like a champ, but switch to something
leather, like a strap, and he’ll tap out in no time.
What about Cooper? Jay offered the name of his current favorite spanking bottom.
Bullshit, Max replied.
He wouldn’t last 5 minutes over my knee.
The men debated the merits of the various dudes they’d spanked over the years, highlighting the toughest ones, the ones most into serious, ass-blistering spankings. Between Max, Colin, and Jay, plus a couple more guys who joined them at an impromptu after party, the men had spanked well over 100 dudes in their time. Sort of like a discussion about sports, religion, or politics, however, there was no real resolution.
The entire flight home to New York City, Max was preoccupied with one question—who has the toughest spanking bottom in the country? It seemed like an impossible question to answer.
Sure, there were the guys into spanking, but they were only a tiny subset of the population. More importantly, there were the guys who’d gotten intense disciplinary spankings growing up. They were the real experts in how to take an ass burning, whether they enjoyed spanking or not. Then there were the athletes, soldiers, fighters, tough guys, and adrenaline junkies who were used fighting through pain. And some guys seemingly for no reason had an exceptional ability to take pain, so it was entirely possible the toughest spankee could be a rando, or just a guy who was properly motivated to take it no matter how bad the spanking got.
If you really wanted to answer the question, you’d need to attract a broad cross-section of the male population, not just guys in the spanking scene. Then you’d need to test them with different implements. You’d also need to build in recovery time to avoid causing real injury. Toughness, endurance, and grit would all be at a premium. Even if the guy was willing to fight on, his butt would need to be tough enough to hold up under an increasingly brutal series of punishments.
Never one to let something go easily, Max formulated a plan.
You might think the toughest question to answer about a spanking competition would be the why—as in, why the hell would any man voluntarily decide to enter one?
A private equity executive, Max knew the simple reason most people did most things—money. All he needed to do was post a sizeable cash prize, anonymously, of course, and that would guarantee guys would enter the competition. $50,000 seemed like the right amount. Max had a carry distribution coming due and $50k would be enough to provide the proper incentive without breaking the bank. Max hoped money wasn’t the only reason, however, that men would join. Some of the guys might like the competitive aspect of the tournament, wanting to prove once and for all that they had the toughest ass on the school yard. You could get men intensely focused on shit when it was styled as a competition. From pickup basketball games to corporate deals, there seemed to be little that motivated men more than the possibility of besting other men.
It turned out the how was the much harder question.
Actually running a bona fide competition would be a massive undertaking, requiring a huge investment
in time and resources. A venue would have to be rented, a registration process created, contracts and
waivers drafted, and ads posted to drum up interest. Max formed an ad hoc
steering committee, consisting
of his friends in the spanking community, to help get things started. Fortunately, one of Max’s best friends
from college, Nate, was a professional event planner. Best of all, Nate was the kind of guy who’d have
no qualms about calling a hotel to inquire about hosting a spanking competition.
Once Nate got going, things began to fall into place. He found a hotel in Chelsea that would serve as the venue for the competition. To help offset the considerable expenses, Nate recommended charging the contestants a modest entry free and selling a few pricey all-access passes to spectators interested in watching the competition. Sponsors could even be recruited. Attendance at the hotel would be strictly limited to those with the proper credentials.
Max was impressed by how talented his spanking friends turned out to be. Jay was a lawyer who drafted the waiver and contract that all entrants had to sign. Colin was a high-powered marketing executive who developed a multi-tiered plan for getting word out about the competition. Meanwhile, Cooper, the dude that Jay was spanking, turned out to be a programmer who created a website for the competition, including an online portal where guys could register.
The who turned out to be easy, at least on the spanker side. Among Max’s spanking buddies,
there was no shortage of guys willing to devote a weekend to spanking dudes who’d be trying to tough it
out, no matter how hard it got, to earn a $50,000 prize. Max wanted to keep things fun and interesting
and contemplated recruiting a few spanking
celebrities to serve as judges too.
Out of all these efforts, the
Spanking Tournament of Champions, as Max dubbed it,
SPK Tourney, for short, emerged. Max liked to refer to it as the
March Madness of spanking,
in honor of his favorite sporting event, the NCAA college basketball tournament.
Like any tournament, proper rules and structure were essential. The competition was limited to men 18 years and over. Each prospective entrant had to submit an application with basic demographic information, a picture, and a background section on their spanking history and why they wanted to participate. They targeted Super Bowl Sunday for sending out invitations—Max loved the idea of dudes getting emails informing them that they’d been selected for a spanking competition while they were hanging with their buddies and girlfriends at Super Bowl parties.
Once the competition started, it would proceed in successive rounds until there was a single champion.
After an initial 10-minute hand spanking, termed
Qualifiers, each round would involve a progressively
harder implement. Max reasoned that starting with Qualifiers was appropriate, since no man should
be given full credit for competing in the Spanking Tournament of Champions if he couldn’t make it through
a simple hand spanking. Max suspected many of the guys would be shocked at the severity of the punishment,
and after a few rounds, they’d be down to a relatively small number of dudes who had a real shot at winning.
By design, there were three ways to get eliminated from the tournament. At any point during the competition,
the contestant could swallow his pride and utter the safe word
Uncle, as suggested by Colin, and
his spanking would immediately cease. The other two means of elimination involved the
officials responsible for overseeing the contest.
At any time, a Spanking Judge could determine that a contestant was unable to continue safely competing,
in which case the spanking would stop. Finally, the Spanking Judge could warn a contestant for interfering
due and just administration of the spanking, as Jay called it—for instance, a guy
reaching back to try to protect his behind. For severe or repeated acts of interference, the contestant
would be disqualified by the Spanking Judge.
Max’s goal for the inaugural Spanking Tournament of Champions was 50 guys. The competition was announced and the website went live around Halloween time. By early November, a dozen guys had signed up, mostly guys into spanking, like Billy the Twink.
In the following weeks, they had a steady stream of applicants, largely as a result of the marketing
plan. A Twitter account created for the event issued cheeky tweets, targeting straight guys in their late
teens and early 20s. Colin, in a stroke of brilliance, set the Twitter avatar as a hot looking sorority
babe, who tweeted out messages like,
You man enough to take a little spanking? Other ads posted
on mainstream websites stressed the cash prize.
Then in a totally unexpected stroke of luck, the tournament went
viral. It was all because
of a nationally syndicated shock jock, Rusty Burns, who hosted a morning show,
Rusty and the Boys,
featuring frat-boy style humor that appealed to straight guys who wanted to hear interviews with porn
stars on their commutes into the office.
It was the week before Thanksgiving that Rusty first mentioned the tournament.
Welcome back, folks, Rusty started, just after returning from break around 7:30am.
days, they seem to have a competition for everything. There are hot dog eating contests, smallest dick
contests—hell, there’s even the WNBA! But seriously folks, the one that caught my eye recently was
this new spanking contest they’ve got going. You heard of that, Lar?
Larry, Rusty’s perennial side-kick, feigned surprise.
Well, spank my butt, but I haven’t, Rusty.
Well, get over here, young man, because I’m about to teach you a lesson, Rusty hammed it up.
Rusty launched into a monologue explaining the basics of the competition, and then things got interesting.
Rusty pressed a button that blasted a prerecorded,
Folks, I’m even gonna tell you, my loyal listeners, who’s going to win this magnificent new competition,
Our very own Chad the Intern! We signed him up last night!
You what? Chad asked.
Chad the Intern was a real enough guy, a good-looking 20 year
old broadcasting major from a local college outside Denver, where the show was recorded, but on the morning
show, he seemed to exist only to serve as the butt of Rusty’s pranks.
Is that even legal? Larry asked playing along.
It’s legal enough for me! Rusty replied.
Chad here is a shoe-in. Wanna know why, Chaddy?
Because if you can’t take an ass on fire, we’ll fire your ass! But don’t you worry, Uncle Rusty has a
training regimen planned for you. By tourney time, you’ll be ready to win the $50k!
endorsement of the competition had a snowballing effect. A bunch of stories were written
about the competition, not all of which were positive, but for the most part the press treated it as a
novelty. In the wake of all that publicity, enrollment skyrocketed. After a senior from Villanova, Spencer
Davis, posted a YouTube video announcing his entry into the Spanking Tournament of Champions, a bunch
of guys followed suit with their own videos.
It wasn’t just the number of guys signing up that was striking—it was the diversity of the
crowd too. One of the guys was a former Navy seal, and he wasn’t the only military man to enter—there
was a recent graduate of the Navy Academy and a couple of West Point cadets too. The better part of the
starting offense from a D-3 college football team joined for some reason. On the part of the application
that asked about why he was applying, one man wrote,
Came in last in fantasy football league. Two
18 year-old twins from Texas said they were willing to drive cross-country for a shot at the $50,000 prize.
An up-and-coming MMA fighter through his hat in the ring as well. Enough frat dudes signed up that Max
could start his own fraternity.
They weren’t all straight either. A gay couple CJ (27 years old) and Tom (25 years old) signed up together, which Max found endearing.
Lots of men entered for a shot at the money, figuring that they had endured countless spankings for free over the years, and so they might as well try to earn some money out of it. There were a couple Wall Street dudes too, who probably didn’t need the money, but were doing it for the same reasons guys signed up to run the New York City Marathon—to test their limits. And then there was poor Chad the Intern. Rusty hadn’t been totally truthful with his audience. Rusty hadn’t really signed up Chad without his consent. That never would have been allowed. But two days after Rusty’s show, a Chad Young from Colorado submitted an application.
Early in the New Year, Max met with his steering committee to select the SPK Tourney competitors.
With well over 5,000 applicants for just 200 slots, the maximum number the hotel could accommodate, according
to Nate, Max felt like an admissions officer at Princeton, his alma mater. Lots of dudes would be waitlisted
better luck next year.
Figuring he’d bought the right to be a little self-indulgent, Max selected all the guys he liked or whose stories resonated with him. He made sure that the volunteers got to pick their favorites too. Throughout the weekend-long meeting, Jay served the role of the bad cop and kept pressing the group to pick guys who had a real chance to win the competition.
Billy the Twink made it in. So too did Spencer Davis, the Villanova senior. The athletes and military
men did well, except for the Navy Seal, who turned out to have a disqualifying injury. The MMA fighter,
Connor Fitzmaurice, was a no-brainer. The Texas brothers, one of whom was actually named
the gay couple made the cut. One guy, Ray Curry, who was selected, had climbed Mount Everest. Max found
it impossible to say
no to the two Wall Street dudes, given his own background. Cooper threatened
to crash the website if his fave frat guy Will Martin didn’t make the cut. The guys who made it tended
to be around 20-40 years old. Many of them had past spanking experience; others didn’t, but seemed motivated.
As much as Max wanted to let him in, the others convinced him to reject the dude who finished last
in his fantasy football league, making the point that the guy presumably had no incentive to do anything
other than immediately call
Uncle during Qualifiers and be done with the competition. Max ultimately
capitulated, but personally wrote his rejection email.
Figuring they owed it to Rusty for the favor he’d done them, Chad the Intern was the first to receive his official acceptance email on Super Bowl Sunday.
The following Tuesday, Rusty had Chad the Intern put over the knee of a famous dominatrix and spanked
on the air, as part of his
training, all while Rusty, Larry, and the rest of the
tips. On Friday, Rusty asked his listeners to call in and tell their best spanking stories and offer Chad
any advice they had for the competition. The response was overwhelming.
The Spanking Tournament of Champions was scheduled for mid-March. Interest from sponsors grew with the profile of the tournament, so much so that the event was actually running a surplus. Nate used the surplus to hire an actress, Lara Jones, to serve as the MC.
Check-in was Friday night, followed by a kickoff party at the hotel bar. While the guests were partying,
the organizers were feverishly finalizing judge assignments for the following day. Given the size of the
Spanking Room, a large conference room where the spankings would take place and the number of volunteers,
they divided the contestants into 10 groups of 20 for Qualifiers. Jay, Colin, and Cooper were selected
as the Spanking Judges.
On Saturday morning, at 8am sharp, the contestants, spectators, volunteers, and tournament officials all convened on the hotel’s grand ballroom for the opening ceremony.
Welcome to the inaugural Spanking Tournament of Champions! Lara began her prepared remarks,
in front of a full-capacity crowd.
Dude, that chick is smokin’ hot, Spencer whispered to Chad the Intern, whom he had met the
night before at the welcome party.
Check out those titties!
This weekend, we’re going to discover which of you will earn the right to be called spanking champion!
You’ve all been selected for your power, stamina, and determination. Even so, 199 of you
boys are going home with nothing but a sore butt, while one of you is going to walk away with $50,000—and
an extremely sore butt!
Billy the Twink, a favorite among those in the know, watched the speech alone in the corner, shooting daggers at the other competitors who had the balls to intrude on his home turf.
Remember, all spankings here are on the bare, Lara cautioned.
And they’re hard!
Some of you may have forgotten just how much a spanking hurts.
That was enough to get Ben Wagner to take off his headphones. He was a short dude, with brown hair and a full beard. At 25, things had been going well for him, at least until the divorce. Now, he was fighting to keep his house, to avoid moving back home with his parents. All he knew was that no matter how hard the spankings got, the $50k was his.
If the spanking gets to be too much for your poor behind, just cry Uncle and we’ll stop spanking
you right away, Lara smiled.
Not bloody likely, Ray, the adventurist, thought, scanning the room, sizing up his competition. If he could beat Everest, he sure as hell could beat a spanking.
Don’t interfere with your spanking or else the judges will disqualify you, Lara warned.
The Navy Midshipmen, Tommy, thought that sounded a lot like the rules his dad laid down for his spankings back in the day, except, with his dad, interference just meant more spanking!
Don’t forget that this is a competition! Lara said.
It like March Madness, just with spanking
instead of basketball!
If this is March Madness, then I’m Duke or Kansas, and that faggy looking guy in the corner is Coppin State, Will Martin thought, looking at Billy the Twink.
Round one is Qualifiers, Lara explained.
It’s a 10 minute hand spanking. You gotta make
it through the simple stuff before you qualify for the tough stuff.
Connor, the MMA fighter, guessed that the spanking would be tougher on his spanker than himself, given how rock solid his ass was after the countless squats he did in training.
The Spanking Tournament of Champions is not for the faint of heart, Lara said.
If you want
to call it quits, now’s your last opportunity.
Just then, Sam Bryant, a 6′4 quarterback, with a moppy head of brown hair, pretty hazel eyes, cannon arm, and an athlete’s build, got a slap on the behind from his star receiver, causing all his teammates, who were gathered together near the front of the ballroom, to begin cracking up.
Be sure to check out your group assignment and assigned spanker ASAP, Lara concluded.
One is up shortly!
I hope she’s assigned to spank me, Tex whispered into his brother’s ear.
As soon as the speech ended, the men converged on the assignments list posted in the ballroom.
The dudes in Group One quickly made their way into the Spanking Room, located their assigned spankers, and, at the Spanking Judges’ direction, dropped trou.
A little behind the others, Sam, the quarterback, surveyed all the dudity around him, men in various states of undress, all the smooth and hairy asses visible around the room, and thought it looked like some kind of locker room from hell.
The last guy in the Spanking Room from Group One was frat boy Will Martin.
Dude, you should probably keep the door open, Will said to Jay.
Or else it’s gonna start
smelling like butt in here, and I mean literally.
Gentlemen, you have one more minute to disrobe and assume the position to avoid disqualification,
We’re about to begin.
In addition to Sam and Will, Group One featured Tom, the gay dude, Tex, Connor, Ben, and Ray. There was also a Managing Director at Morgan Stanley, a construction worker, a young father of three, a high school gym teacher, and a dude who enjoyed getting spanked. The rest were guys competing for a shot at the $50,000 prize and pride.
Colin and the other judges alerted the men to the giant timer visible throughout the room, which
displayed a glaring
10:00, which looked ominous, at least to the contestants.
As with any competition, the luck of the draw mattered. Ray began to feel a little queasy when he saw the 300lb plus man who had volunteered to spank him. Maybe the worst draw of all went to Will, however, who was matched with Cliff, a black dude from a popular spanking studio, whose legendary hand spankings had reduced many a tough guy to hysterical tears.
If you looked down on the Spanking Room at that very moment, you’d be witnessing something that likely had never been seen before, 20 grown men in close quarters with each other, arranged loosely in five rows of four guys each, their bare butts positioned over the knees of their determined-looking spankers, pants and underwear bunched up around their ankles, waiting for their spankings to begin, some like Tom looking nervous, like they had made some kind of terrible mistake, and others like Will looking arrogant, like they were the big dick at the urinal.
Ready, set, spank! Colin announced, initiating the timer.
SPAAAANK! SPAAAANK! SPAAAAAANK! SPAAAANK! SPAAAANK! SPAAAAAANK! SPAAAANK! SPAAAANK! SPAAAAAANK! SPAAAANK! SPAAAANK! SPAAAAAANK! SPAAAANK! SPAAAANK! SPAAAAAANK! SPAAAANK! SPAAAANK! SPAAAAAANK! SPAAAANK! SPAAAANK!
The sound of twenty spankings starting at once was deafening. A few swats in, some butts, like Ben’s were already looking a little ruddy, while others, like Ray’s were still lily white. Some guys like Tex had been spanked before, indeed more times than they could count; others like Sam were spanking virgins, experiencing the sensation of a slap on the bare behind for the very first time. Most guys inhaled sharply upon the first spanks landing; Connor actually laughed.
Given the layout of the Spanking Room, the guys near the center like Tex had pretty good lines of sight and could see much of what was going on, even as they were pinned over their spankers’ knees. As Tex scanned the room trying to take it all in, to see how the other guys were holding up, he momentarily locked eyes with the construction worker, turning away embarrassed, as a particularly vicious spank landed on his right sit spot. Ray, on the other hand, positioned in the left-most spot in the last row couldn’t see much of anything. Spanking Judge Cooper hovered over Will Martin to catch every detail of his spanking.
The competitive aspect of the tournament immediately came into focus. No one wanted to be the first to pussy out and vocalize his discomfort by groaning, moaning, or yelling out. As hard as they were getting spanked, they were all dudes, after all, and no dude wants to show weakness or vulnerability in a room full of other guys, even under these circumstances.
As the timer reached 7:00 minutes left, however, a number of dudes were in trouble.
A cute consultant at a firm in New York City, with a slim build and long legs, Tom wondered how much
longer he needed to endure this agony before calling
Uncle. It was so much worse than he ever imagined.
His boyfriend, CJ, had spanked him a few times while fucking him in the butt. That felt kinky. This felt
like a fire was consuming his exposed ass, as the cumulative effect of the spanking started to build.
Fuck man! That hurts! SPAAAANK!
The contestants glanced around the room, to the extent their positions would allow it, trying to figure out who had broken the wall of silence.
Jay saw it all go down. It wasn’t Tom. It was actually frat boy Will Martin, a 6′3 volleyball player from California with a short blonde buzz cut, who’d been the first to crack. In a way, it wasn’t fair—Cliff was spanking him twice as fast and twice as hard as the others were getting it. Still, Will seemed like an asshole, Jay thought, the kind of guy who always blames the refs after a loss. Will’s butt looked torched already, the red of his behind amplified by his fair complexion.
Once Will began bitching and moaning, the floodgates opened.
Owwww! Sam the quarterback cried out, feeling suddenly grateful that neither his
dad nor any of his coaches had put him through this before. Sam was the tallest guy in the room, but that
wasn’t doing him any good. He worried about facing the taunts of his teammates, who’d dared one another
into SPK Tourney, if he were the first to get knocked out.
Gahhhh! Ben yelled, realizing that if this is what a hand
spanking felt like, he was in for a really long weekend if he wanted to win this thing.
SPAAAANK! SPAAAANK! SPANNNNK!
Arggh! Ray hissed, feeling self-conscious at 42, the oldest
guy in the room, he didn’t seem to be holding up much better than the rest.
SPAAAANK! Tex was able to stay silent, but began extending his legs back and forth, trying to find a comfortable position, a gesture he perfected during many trips over his dad’s knee.
The only dude who seemed to be completely unaffected by the spanking was Connor, who looked, if anything, bored over the knee of a 35 year old accountant, who was totally overmatched by the MMA fighter and his ass of steel.
Ok stop! SPAAAANK!
I mean— SPAAAANK!
Tom’s spanker immediately stopped before the next spank could land. The Spanking Judges came over and confirmed the elimination. 1 down; 199 left to go.
Tom felt kind of shitty to be the one gay guy in Group One and the first to get eliminated. He took a few rubs of his burning behind before pulling up his 2(X)IST briefs and returning to the ballroom to meet up with CJ. It’ll be much more fun watching CJ get spanked. Hopefully it’s hard—he deserves it after making me sign up for this competition! Tom thought.
In keeping with protocol, Tom gave his spanker a handshake before retreating to the ballroom.
With the first man down, the threat of elimination suddenly felt more real, especially to the guys who were struggling to take their spankings. The timer showed 6:18 left.
The next dude to enter the danger zone was Ben.
Aw man! SPAAAANK!
Come one! SPAAAANK!
There was a sadness in Ben’s voice, as hope that the tournament would be the solution to all his problems began to fade. It didn’t help matters that immediately to his left was Connor Fitzmaurice who appeared to be falling asleep over his spanker’s knee.
After a particularly vicious duplet of spanks on his left sit spot, Ben thought about throwing in
the towel. Just then, however, he locked eyes with the Morgan Stanley banker, who shot Ben an expression
that seemed to be saying
pussy, just as Ben struggled through the worst of his spanking. Maybe
it was because the guy looked like an asshole banker, but the gesture forced Ben to double down
and promise himself he’d never give in before that guy.
A cacophony of spanks and cries rang out in the Spanking Room, as the construction worker, young dad, and the gym teacher all yelled out in unison.
As Group One entered the home stretch of Qualifiers, most of the 19 guys remaining reached a kind
of stead state, feeling sore and exhausted, but confident they’d be able to finish without saying the
Uncle. Two guys, however, were on the ropes—Will and Sam.
Not having a clue who Cliff was, Will wondered what the hell his spanker was trying to prove. Anger can only get you so far, however, when your butt’s a cauldron of agony and Will wondered if it was time to cry uncle. After all, it’s not like he needed the money for tuition.
Damn you! SPAAAAAAANK!
For God’s sake!
Not so hard!
For Cliff, Will Martin was a wet-dream come true. Most of the guys he spanked were rough around the edges, but Will was an honest-to-god college boy, the kind of guy who dressed in expensive preppy clothes, fucked college girls in his dorm room, got drunk at his frat’s parties, and hazed the shit out of freshman pledges. Now, Will was draped over his knee getting the spanking of a lifetime. Cliff wanted to make the most of that opportunity.
Cut it out! SPAAAAAANK!
Stop man! SPAAAAAANK!
Cliff decided a barrage of spanks on his sit spots might be enough to take Will over the edge.
No more! SPAAAAAANK!
Will stopped himself. Through eyes that were beginning to mist with tears, he looked up and decided to do a final clock check before saying the magic word. It read 1:57.
Fuck, I can’t pussy out now! Will thought, deciding he could survive anything for 2 minutes.
At the very same time, Sam was kicking up a storm, squirming, twisting, fighting to get his burning butt out of the way. Unlike Will, he reacted to his spanking not with anger, but remorse, begging his spanker to cut him a break, while his eyes burned with tears.
Pleeeeeze man! SPAAAAANK!
I’m sorry! SPAAAAANK!
No more! SPAAAAANK!
I’ll be good! SPAAAAANK!
It hurts! SPAAAAANK!
It hurts so
His spanker, Scotty, didn’t look all that imposing, but was one of the most feared spankers at the Moonburn party. Sensing weakness, he went in for the kill.
Desperate and shocked at how sensitive his football player butt was proving to be, Sam reached his arm back to protect it.
Jay immediately came over and interceded.
That will be your first and last warning! Next time
you interfere with your spanking, you’ll be disqualified.
All eyes turned to Sam. Minutes earlier, the dudes in Group One would have thought it pathetic, maybe even funny, for a grown man to reach back to protect his butt during a spanking, especially a guy as strapping as Sam. However, with their own butts on fire, most felt sympathy and relief that they were not the one being chewed out by the Spanking Judge.
Suddenly feeling very self-conscious, and on the verge of outright bawling, Sam knew he’d lost even though the timer displayed only 45 seconds left.
Uncle! Uncle! Uncle! Please!
Disappointed, Scotty stopped the spanking and gave the quarterback a moment to compose himself before the customary handshake.
Everyone in the room became fixated on the timer. The guys getting spanked obviously had good reason to. But perhaps no one was more intently focused than Cliff who’d made it a personal mission to knock Will out of the competition.
Deciding it was now or never, Cliff converted into a rapid-fire method of spanking, which was hard enough to make his infamous right hand start to hurt.
Oh god no! SPAAANK!
No more! SPAAANK!
Too much SPAAANK!
I can’t! SPAAANK!
I can’t take it! SPAAANK!
Kicking his long legs back and forth frantically, Will looked like a swimmer, as he flailed over Cliff’s knee. As big a dude as Will was, Cliff held him down like he was nothing.
As much as he tried, Will was simply too far gone to get out the word
Uncle. Before he could
catch his breath, a piercing alarm went off in the Spanking Room, as the clock ticked down to zero. All
spankings immediately ended. Will Martin had been saved by the bell.
Gentlemen, you have two minutes to get dressed and return to the ballroom, Jay announced,
wanting to keep the trains running on time.
Group Two is right behind you!
That was the last thing most of the guys wanted to hear. Will dried a few tears that he’d let slip during the last terrible minutes of his spanking, and pulled up his J Crew boxers, wincing as they came into contact with the raw behind. Around the room, the guys went through the same exercise, all except Connor that is, who evidently came to the spanking contest commando.
His wranglers pulled all the way up, Tex gave his behind a few hearty rubs, as he joined the queue of guys exiting the Spanking Room through the one door leading to the ballroom.
Worse than daddy used to give, Tex said to no one in particular.
Fuck man, that hurt, Ben said, not knowing anyone else and looking for a little sympathy and
I had no idea it would be that bad.
Here’s the thing, Tex replied, fancying himself something of an expert, even though he was
the youngest guy in the room.
Normally, you’d reach back every so often to stop your daddy from spanking
ya. But you just went through 10 minutes of non-stop, uninterrupted butt spankin’!
How you holding up, bro? Ben asked Will, who seemed to be fighting back tears.
Piss off, Will said curtly, staring down Ben, who struck him as looking halfway between an
outdoorsman, who spent his time hunting and camping in Montana, and a hipster.
Don’t mind him, Tex said.
Some boys turn into assholes when their fannies are on fire.
Less impressed, Connor planted a not-so-friendly slap on Will’s behind.
Will turned around looking like he was about to deck the guy until he saw it was Connor.
By and large, Group One fared well in Qualifiers. Other than Tom and Sam, only one other guy, the
construction worker, was eliminated. A few sniffles could be heard as the boys departed the Spanking Room.
In the end, butts ranged in color from moderately red (Connor), to purple (Will), and everything in between.
A couple guys considered whether they could call
Uncle in between rounds to avoid returning for
another spanking. Others, like Ray, figured they’d be good to go after a break.
As the guys in Group One filed out, Colin checked in with the spanking volunteers, asking if anyone wanted to sub out for Group Two, appreciating that it was important to keep everyone fresh, as there were lots of spankings left to administer that morning, and the organizers had a deep bench of volunteers, many of whom were dying to join in the action.
Cliff looked crestfallen, but shook his head no.
Lord help the next guy.
In the ballroom, there was electricity in the air, especially among the spectators, who couldn’t believe what they had just witnessed on the HD closed-circuit TVs that had been installed around the room. Word around the hotel was that Connor was looking like an early favorite to win the Spanking Tournament of Champions, though there were still a boatload of guys left to see.
Meanwhile, Sam’s teammates, particularly his trusty receiver Danny Myers, were breaking his balls, giving him a blow-by-blow description of how ridiculous he looked during the last minutes of his spanking. Sam was just so happy it was all over that he didn’t really care.
Tex tracked down his brother and gave him a full report on his spanking, offering advice on how to survive Qualifiers, namely to keep your head down and avoid getting distracted by all the sights and sounds of the Spanking Room.
Will Martin had been right about one thing—the Spanking Room had gotten stuffy, given the physicality of all that spanking, taking on the quality of a men’s locker room after a big game. Jay opened the door to air it out, as Group Two, led by Chad the Intern, assembled outside. Whether it was an advantage or disadvantage to know what they were up against remained unclear. One thing was certain, however—none of the dudes wanted to be matched with Cliff.
Just before Group Two entered, Max poked his head into the Spanking Room, catching Colin’s attention. The two traded smiles like school boys who had just gotten away with something very naughty. Better yet, as they both knew, the Spanking Tournament of Champions had just begun.