Redemption

By: Maquido
maquido@hotmail.com

	It was fall in that country to which I'd 
traveled. I'd been there for almost a year, slowly 
fitting in and being It was fall in that country to 
which I'd traveled. I'd been there for almost a year, 
slowly fitting in and being accepted by the residents 
of the small home in which I'd chosen to live and 
work. I enjoyed my status as resident foreigner. No 
one had ever stayed as a visitor as long as me and I 
was treated to the best wine and invited to the 
smallest of gatherings. The people of that place 
enjoyed life and I had enjoyed more than one encounter 
with the vibrant and willing ladies of the town.

	I often sat and watch the young men and women of 
the town come down out of the fields where they 
harvested the grapes that went into the wine for which 
the country is known. The boys were strong and moved 
with a sensuous grace, the women moved with the 
vibrancy of youth, their lithe limbs and firm breasts 
a constant source of enjoyment. It was the 
introduction of those young people of the city into 
society as adults that introduced me to one of the 
most unusual and erotic customs I have encountered in 
my travels.

	The society of the town is closed and reflects 
the unique beliefs of its townspeople regarding life. 
The children of the town are offered freedom. They are 
taught the things they need to know, but they are 
taught to do what they want. If they do not want to 
work on a particular day, they don't. If they get in 
mischief of almost any sort, it is as if it is ignored 
- until the Festival of Redemption in the fall of 
their twenty-second year.

	

	There are many cultural and historical aspects of 
the Festival. However, I suspect that the readers here 
will be more interested in the erotic aspects of the 
week and I will direct this story toward those. It is 
with some pride that I obtained the level of respect 
necessary to be asked to participate. More than 
anything, that confirmed my acceptance into the 
community. I was living with one of the town elders, 
Mario, and I suspect he had much to do with my 
invitation to participate. He explained what was 
expected of me. 

	The people of that city allow their children much 
freedom, but from a very young age they are taught 
that though they can get away with almost anything as 
a child, to become an adult, the town will make them 
pay for the transgressions of their youth. The 
Festival is a week of measured punishment, meted out 
according to a consensus among the elders as to the 
price each young person must pay to enter adulthood. 
It is a week of service and punishment. In the 
curiosity of this culture, the participants eagerly 
await their duty. It is their rite of passage. Not to 
participate is unthinkable. They would not be able to 
marry or get a meaningful job or participate in any of 
the privileges afforded an adult member of their 
society. Perhaps a few have left town, but, if so, 
they are never mentioned.

	

	I was uncomfortable at first, but I know that the 
rites and customs of a foreign society are not mine to 
question.

	

	On the first day of the Festival the adults of 
the town, including me, gathered in the square and 
drew marbles from a box. Those who drew red marbles 
gathered together as did each group that drew blue and 
yellow. The number of red marbles equaled the number 
of males who were participating. The number of blue 
marbles equaled the number of girls.  Those who did 
not draw a red or blue got a yellow and became 
Witnesses of Redemption. I drew a blue.  The "reds" 
went to a field where a platform had been constructed.  
Those of us who drew blue gathered in the square. 
Those who had drawn yellow lined up again and drew 
again to determine whether they were to witness for 
the males or females. In turn, they joined those of us 
at the field or in the square.

	In a short while the fourteen girls who were 
participants walked into the square. The town people 
were joyful and in high spirits. The girls demeanor 
was a little different and in keeping with their role. 
Each was dressed in a thin white dress, specially made 
for the occasion, and they walked in single file, 
their hands at their side and their eyes lowered. 
Tears glistened on the cheeks of a few that were 
undoubtedly wishing they had been a bit more 
circumspect as they matured. Many in the crowd yelled 
out to the girls, reminding them of something long in 
their past. You'd hear, "Julia! Remember when you were 
10, you took my sheets off the line and made a tent." 
And there would be much laughter, as the transgressor 
blushed.

	The girls lined up randomly, as did we. One by 
one, we were matched with our ward for the next four 
days. There was much laughter as I walked forward to 
stand by Louisa. She was well known. I had seen her 
argue with shop owners. I had seen her at the town 
dances. She loved to party and she often left the 
fields if there was anything else of interest going 
on. She was headstrong, her dark eyes flashing 
defiance and willfulness as they probablyhad for the 
last twenty years. I sensed that the town was going to 
make her pay dearly.

	In turn, each girl stood before the crowd and the 
witnesses and punishers alike would take turns telling 
the things they remembered about the girl's past. In 
the end, the elders would announce the extent of 
punishment each would receive. The lightest ordered 
was one light whipping a day for three days and 
service to the punisher. It took a long time for 
everyone to recite Louisa's wrongs. The Mayor said, 
"Louisa, you have heard your neighbors. Do you desire 
to redeem yourself?"

	"Yes," she answered quitely.

	"We have decided that you are to determine your 
own punishment.  You are to serve each day and each 
day you will request the punishment you feel is 
necessary to redeem yourself."

	There was much laughter at that. I was to learn 
that the punishment she would have to endure was the 
harshest possible. If she did not do enough, she would 
have to wait another year to redeem herself. Some of 
the other girls even smiled.

	I led her back to my room. She would stay with me 
the rest of the Festival. She would cook and clean. 
And I was to administer corporal punishment as she 
requested.

	I was a little uneasy and when we were alone, I 
said, "Louisa, I am almost a stranger and where I come 
from we do not do this. I want you to know that I will 
not tell if you do not ask for a spanking."

	She looked fearful and said, "No! You must spank 
me. They will look at me and they must know that I 
have redeemed myself. Please, do it right. Promise." 
"Okay, of course I will do as you ask."

	"Then spank me now. And tell them tomorrow how I 
asked for a spanking the first thing. Humble me and 
tell them. I want there to be no question in their 
minds."

	"As you were told, you're going to have to tell 
me just what you want me to do. I'm very uncomfortable 
with this."

	She smiled at that. "Thank you for caring. Do not 
worry about me, this is what we do. I had a lot of fun 
growing up and I accept that it's time to pay the 
price. So, tie me and spank me. Use the paddle. Its 
time."

	Each home has a chair designed for this purpose. 
Often it is handed down from generation to generation. 
I led Louisa to the upholstered bench that was 
prominent in my room. The back was rounded and just 
the right height. I fumbled with the cord that had 
been prepared earlier.

	"It must be done on my bare skin." She stood 
there, her head bowed slightly and her hands at her 
side.

	I knew that she expected me to follow the customs 
of the Festival. I decided to do my best. "Louisa, it 
is time to begin your punishment. You must remove your 
dress and I will bind you to the chair. You will think 
of the wrongs in your past and request the punishment 
you are due."

	"Thank you," she said, "for permitting me to 
redeem myself."

	She removed her dress. I wondered if anyone in 
town could avoid the sexual excitement that permeated 
this adventure. All through town young men and women 
were experiencing similar events. Her body was sleek 
and firm, her breasts, not large, but firm. Her 
nipples were swollen and I realized that even those 
being punished must often experience some varying 
degree of sexual pleasure at what was happening. The 
jet black hair on her head was duplicated between her 
legs.

	I went to the front of the bench. She stood 
behind it and bent over at the waist, extending her 
arms to the side. I tied a cord to each wrist and tied 
the cord to one of the legs of the bench at each end, 
stretching her arms away from her. Her breast grazed 
the cloth on the back of the bench and I imagined the 
stimulation she must be feeling.

	I walked behind her in order to tie her legs. Her 
bottom was round and firm. Fine, tiny hairs glowed in 
the light of the lamp. I knelt behind her and enjoyed 
the close view of her bottom. Although she kept her 
legs together, I could see the hair that covered her 
sex where it curled a short way up the crevasse of her 
ass. I picked up the scent of her and it was the heady 
aroma of a woman's desire. I tied her ankles to the 
middle leg of the bench, allowing her some degree of 
modesty.

	The paddle used is made of a soft woven fiber, 
tightly braided into a strap about three inches wide. 
I sat behind her, holding the paddle. "Tell me when 
you're ready."

	She stayed silent for some time, bent and tied 
firmly over the bench. I was hard and decided to quit 
worrying about the pleasure I was experiencing. 
Finally, she said, "Spank me."

	I stood to one side and swung the paddle against 
her bottom.

	"Harder." 

	I spanked her again. 

	"Harder, it must be harder."

	There was a fine sheen of perspiration on her 
back. I felt a trickle of sweat move down my spine and 
I swung even harder, the paddle smacking against her 
bare skin. Her faced was flushed, her eyes rimmed with 
tears.

	I paused and she said, "More, you must spank me 
some more. My bottom must be red so they will know." 
And so I spanked her harder and longer and her ass 
became feverishly red from the paddling she received. 
Although she squirmed, her bottom moving involuntarily 
from side to side, she could not escape and she never 
cried out.

	Finally, after much longer than I expected she 
let forth an explosive breath and said, "Okay, enough. 
Am I red? Can you tell that I got a good spanking?"

	"Yes, very much so."

	"Good. Thank you."

	I untied her. She turned in front of the mirror 
to see that the evidence of her spanking was obvious. 
She ate standing up that night. In the morning, she 
raised her skirt and looked at rear. The marks of the 
previous nights spanking had diminished.

	"You must spank me again before we go to the 
square."

	Before we left to join the crowd at the square, 
she bent over the table, grasping its edge. I raised 
her skirt above her waist. She braced herself, 
planting her feet about a foot and a half apart. I 
held the skirt with one hand as I spanked her. I could 
see the darker flesh of her anus. The slit of her sex 
showed in a pink line in the dark hair and I thought I 
might have seen the telltale glistening of her 
lubrication. Once again I caught the scent of her 
excitement.

	In the square, each girl raised her skirt to 
display the results of her punishment. On some, you 
could not tell. Louisa did not have that problem.

	The second day was similar to the first. Her 
spanking was not as long, but her ass still glowed 
red. We talked more. She asked me many questions about 
my country. She prepared my meals and cleaned the 
house, sleeping at night on the couch.

	On the morning of the third day, she said, "This 
is my last day. They will not inspect us tomorrow. I 
know that the town expects me to be punished more than 
anyone else. You must make sure that our efforts are 
extensive. But, I have a request." She blushed. "The 
back of the bench is rough against my nipples. Will 
you tie me to your bed. The sheets are so much 
smoother."

	"Of course."

	She arranged two pillows in the middle of the bed 
and lay across them so her ass was rounded high. I 
tied each wrist to a corner of the headboard.  Walking 
to the foot of the bed, I realized what would be 
necessary to tie her legs.  Each would have to be tied 
to a corner of the bed, spreading her legs and 
exposing her completely.  It was what she expected.  
She spread her legs as I tied one cord to the leg at 
the corner of the foot of the bed.  I tied it to her 
ankle and then I did the other leg.  She had made it 
clear that I must tie her tight.

	When I was through, I looked at her. The lips of 
her sex were opened slightly. The position she was in 
exposed her completely. I could see the pearly pink 
tip of her clitoris. As always, there was a wait 
before the spanking began. She got wet in that time. 
Her moisture glistened and the lips between her legs 
seemed to swell. They grew more and more red. Her 
aroma permeated the room.

	I used the paddle on her, moving it each time in 
order to redden her entire ass. I moved it low and it 
fell across her exposed pussy.

	She squirmed and said, "More."

	To the limits of her bonds, she arched her ass 
higher and it seemed to me that she was trying to open 
herself to the blows that fell. It was obviously 
sexual. Her slick wetness had dampened the hair around 
her pussy. The inside of her thighs glistened. The 
pillow beneath her was wet. I planned to sleep on that 
pillow in the hopes that I could enjoy her scent. And 
she moaned. It was the most noise she had made during 
a spanking. She had cried and occasionally an 
involuntary whimper would escape, but on thisday it 
was much louder. She thrashed about, throwing her head 
from side to side but always arching high to receive 
the blows from the paddle. I sensed that she had an 
orgasm.

	After I released her, she took a corner of the 
sheet and pressed it between her legs to absorb the 
moisture. "Thank you," she said.

	That day the Witnesses presented her with a rose 
that indicated she had redeemed herself. She smiled 
and kissed me on the cheek.

	I had heard what often happened on the last day 
of the Festival, but had dared to hope that it was 
true. I would find out the following day. On the last 
day of the Festival, the participants were considered 
to be adults and no longer required to serve or be 
punished. Their punishers were expected to spend the 
day with them as equals. Louisa returned to my room 
with me. She still had difficulty sitting but she was 
laughing and smiling with all her friends. Their pride 
was almost tangible.

	We sat and I poured her a glass of wine, raising 
my glass in a toast.

	"So, what do you think of our Festival."

	"It was interesting."

	She laughed. "I bet." She took a sip of wine. 
"All the girls hoped to be punished by you."

	I coughed on my wine. "Why?"

	She shrugged. "It is a little embarrassing to be 
seen naked and exposed to be spanked. You hope it is 
with someone nice."

	Her attitude was different. She knew she was 
equal. It surprised me all the more that she had been 
so servile before.She sat her glass down and 
continued, "After all, I know and you know how excited 
I got. You don't want to share that with someone like 
Leonard the butcher."

	I laughed.

	"Am I shocking you?"

	"A little."

	She smiled. "Did you enjoy seeing me naked?"

	"Of course." Honesty seemed to be the best 
policy.

	"Did it excite you to spank me?"

	"Yes, and that bothers me a little."

	"It shouldn't. It hurt, but now that its over, I 
can look back and say I enjoyed it. I guess that's why 
a lot of our people enjoy spankings with their lovers. 
Not as hard and not with a paddle, of course."

	"Of course."

	We drank in silence as the sun set across the 
verdant hills above the village.

	"Will you spank me again?"

	

	My voice cracked. "Yes."

	She stood and walked in front of me. "Don't tie 
me and use your hand." She took off her dress and 
stood before and once again I could smell the familiar 
scent of her arousal.  I took her hand and guided her 
across my knees. I could feel the heat through the 
thin cotton pants I wore. I rested my hand on her 
bottom. It was surprisingly cool to my touch. Her legs 
were together and I could not see between them.

	"Spank me. Gently."

	I spanked her.

	"A little harder. Spank both sides." So I did. 
And she started to rotate her hips. My hardness grew 
against her. She spread her legs.  "There," she said, 
"spank me there." I spanked lightly against the soft 
flesh between her legs, feeling its heat and wetness 
on my hand.

	She moved more. I let my hand rest on her. Her 
hands reached back and her full weight was on my lap. 
She spread the cheeks of her bottom wide, opening the 
lips of her sex and exposing her anus. "Spank me 
there."

	My hand trail wetness up to her anus. I spanked 
her lightly, cupping my hand so that the tips of my 
fingers would strike her anus and the wet opening of 
her sex.  She came while I did that, writhing with 
abandon and passion.

	In one swift move she stood and tugged my pants 
down. She centered herself on me and my cock pressed 
into her depth. I grasped her reddened ass and came 
while buried deep inside of her.It was fall in that 
country to which I'd traveled. I'd been there for 
almost a year, slowly fitting in and being accepted by 
the residents of the small home in which I'd chosen to 
live and work. I enjoyed my status as resident 
foreigner. No one had ever stayed as a visitor as long 
as me and I was treated to the best wine and invited 
to the smallest of gatherings. The people of that 
place enjoyed life and I had enjoyed more than one 
encounter with the vibrant and willing ladies of the 
town.

	I often sat and watch the young men and women of 
the town come down out of the fields where they 
harvested the grapes that went into the wine for which 
the country is known. The boys were strong and moved 
with a sensuous grace, the women moved with the 
vibrancy of youth, their lithe limbs and firm breasts 
a constant source of enjoyment. It was the 
introduction of those young people of the city into 
society as adults that introduced me to one of the 
most unusual and erotic customs I have encountered in 
my travels.

	

	The society of the town is closed and reflects 
the unique beliefs of its townspeople regarding life. 
The children of the town are offered freedom. They are 
taught the things they need to know, but they are 
taught to do what they want. If they do not want to 
work on a particular day, they don't. If they get in 
mischief of almost any sort, it is as if it is ignored 
- until the Festival of Redemption in the fall of 
their twenty-second year.

	

	There are many cultural and historical aspects of 
the Festival. However, I suspect that the readers here 
will be more interested in the erotic aspects of the 
week and I will direct this story toward those. It is 
with some pride that I obtained the level of respect 
necessary to be asked to participate. More than 
anything, that confirmed my acceptance into the 
community. I was living with one of the town elders, 
Mario, and I suspect he had much to do with my 
invitation to participate. He explained what was 
expected of me. 

	The people of that city allow their children much 
freedom, but from a very young age they are taught 
that though they can get away with almost anything as 
a child, to become an adult, the town will make them 
pay for the transgressions of their youth. The 
Festival is a week of measured punishment, meted out 
according to a consensus among the elders as to the 
price each young person must pay to enter adulthood. 
It is a week of service and punishment. In the 
curiosity of this culture, the participants eagerly 
await their duty. It is their rite of passage. Not to 
participate is unthinkable. They would not be able to 
marry or get a meaningful job or participate in any of 
the privileges afforded an adult member of their 
society. Perhaps a few have left town, but, if so, 
they are never mentioned.

	

	I was uncomfortable at first, but I know that the 
rites and customs of a foreign society are not mine to 
question.

	

	On the first day of the Festival the adults of 
the town, including me, gathered in the square and 
drew marbles from a box. Those who drew red marbles 
gathered together as did each group that drew blue and 
yellow. The number of red marbles equaled the number 
of males who were participating. The number of blue 
marbles equaled the number of girls.  Those who did 
not draw a red or blue got a yellow and became 
Witnesses of Redemption. I drew a blue.  The "reds" 
went to a field where a platform had been constructed.  
Those of us who drew blue gathered in the square. 
Those who had drawn yellow lined up again and drew 
again to determine whether they were to witness for 
the males or females. In turn, they joined those of us 
at the field or in the square.

	In a short while the fourteen girls who were 
participants walked into the square. The town people 
were joyful and in high spirits. The girls demeanor 
was a little different and in keeping with their role. 
Each was dressed in a thin white dress, specially made 
for the occasion, and they walked in single file, 
their hands at their side and their eyes lowered. 
Tears glistened on the cheeks of a few that were 
undoubtedly wishing they had been a bit more 
circumspect as they matured. Many in the crowd yelled 
out to the girls, reminding them of something long in 
their past. You'd hear, "Julia! Remember when you were 
10, you took my sheets off the line and made a tent." 
And there would be much laughter, as the transgressor 
blushed.

	The girls lined up randomly, as did we. One by 
one, we were matched with our ward for the next four 
days. There was much laughter as I walked forward to 
stand by Louisa. She was well known. I had seen her 
argue with shop owners. I had seen her at the town 
dances. She loved to party and she often left the 
fields if there was anything else of interest going 
on. She was headstrong, her dark eyes flashing 
defiance and willfulness as they probablyhad for the 
last twenty years. I sensed that the town was going to 
make her pay dearly.

	In turn, each girl stood before the crowd and the 
witnesses and punishers alike would take turns telling 
the things they remembered about the girl's past. In 
the end, the elders would announce the extent of 
punishment each would receive. The lightest ordered 
was one light whipping a day for three days and 
service to the punisher. It took a long time for 
everyone to recite Louisa's wrongs. The Mayor said, 
"Louisa, you have heard your neighbors. Do you desire 
to redeem yourself?"

	"Yes," she answered quitely.

	"We have decided that you are to determine your 
own punishment.  You are to serve each day and each 
day you will request the punishment you feel is 
necessary to redeem yourself."

	There was much laughter at that. I was to learn 
that the punishment she would have to endure was the 
harshest possible. If she did not do enough, she would 
have to wait another year to redeem herself. Some of 
the other girls even smiled.

	I led her back to my room. She would stay with me 
the rest of the Festival. She would cook and clean. 
And I was to administer corporal punishment as she 
requested.

	I was a little uneasy and when we were alone, I 
said, "Louisa, I am almost a stranger and where I come 
from we do not do this. I want you to know that I will 
not tell if you do not ask for a spanking."

	She looked fearful and said, "No! You must spank 
me. They will look at me and they must know that I 
have redeemed myself. Please, do it right. Promise." 
"Okay, of course I will do as you ask."

	"Then spank me now. And tell them tomorrow how I 
asked for a spanking the first thing. Humble me and 
tell them. I want there to be no question in their 
minds."

	"As you were told, you're going to have to tell 
me just what you want me to do. I'm very uncomfortable 
with this."

	She smiled at that. "Thank you for caring. Do not 
worry about me, this is what we do. I had a lot of fun 
growing up and I accept that it's time to pay the 
price. So, tie me and spank me. Use the paddle. Its 
time."

	Each home has a chair designed for this purpose. 
Often it is handed down from generation to generation. 
I led Louisa to the upholstered bench that was 
prominent in my room. The back was rounded and just 
the right height. I fumbled with the cord that had 
been prepared earlier.

	"It must be done on my bare skin." She stood 
there, her head bowed slightly and her hands at her 
side.

	I knew that she expected me to follow the customs 
of the Festival. I decided to do my best. "Louisa, it 
is time to begin your punishment. You must remove your 
dress and I will bind you to the chair. You will think 
of the wrongs in your past and request the punishment 
you are due."

	"Thank you," she said, "for permitting me to 
redeem myself."

	She removed her dress. I wondered if anyone in 
town could avoid the sexual excitement that permeated 
this adventure. All through town young men and women 
were experiencing similar events. Her body was sleek 
and firm, her breasts, not large, but firm. Her 
nipples were swollen and I realized that even those 
being punished must often experience some varying 
degree of sexual pleasure at what was happening. The 
jet black hair on her head was duplicated between her 
legs.

	I went to the front of the bench. She stood 
behind it and bent over at the waist, extending her 
arms to the side. I tied a cord to each wrist and tied 
the cord to one of the legs of the bench at each end, 
stretching her arms away from her. Her breast grazed 
the cloth on the back of the bench and I imagined the 
stimulation she must be feeling.

	I walked behind her in order to tie her legs. Her 
bottom was round and firm. Fine, tiny hairs glowed in 
the light of the lamp. I knelt behind her and enjoyed 
the close view of her bottom. Although she kept her 
legs together, I could see the hair that covered her 
sex where it curled a short way up the crevasse of her 
ass. I picked up the scent of her and it was the heady 
aroma of a woman's desire. I tied her ankles to the 
middle leg of the bench, allowing her some degree of 
modesty.

	The paddle used is made of a soft woven fiber, 
tightly braided into a strap about three inches wide. 
I sat behind her, holding the paddle. "Tell me when 
you're ready."

	She stayed silent for some time, bent and tied 
firmly over the bench. I was hard and decided to quit 
worrying about the pleasure I was experiencing. 
Finally, she said, "Spank me."

	I stood to one side and swung the paddle against 
her bottom.

	"Harder." 

	I spanked her again. 

	"Harder, it must be harder."

	There was a fine sheen of perspiration on her 
back. I felt a trickle of sweat move down my spine and 
I swung even harder, the paddle smacking against her 
bare skin. Her faced was flushed, her eyes rimmed with 
tears.

	I paused and she said, "More, you must spank me 
some more. My bottom must be red so they will know." 
And so I spanked her harder and longer and her ass 
became feverishly red from the paddling she received. 
Although she squirmed, her bottom moving involuntarily 
from side to side, she could not escape and she never 
cried out.

	Finally, after much longer than I expected she 
let forth an explosive breath and said, "Okay, enough. 
Am I red? Can you tell that I got a good spanking?"

	"Yes, very much so."

	"Good. Thank you."

	I untied her. She turned in front of the mirror 
to see that the evidence of her spanking was obvious. 
She ate standing up that night. In the morning, she 
raised her skirt and looked at rear. The marks of the 
previous nights spanking had diminished.

	"You must spank me again before we go to the 
square."

	Before we left to join the crowd at the square, 
she bent over the table, grasping its edge. I raised 
her skirt above her waist. She braced herself, 
planting her feet about a foot and a half apart. I 
held the skirt with one hand as I spanked her. I could 
see the darker flesh of her anus. The slit of her sex 
showed in a pink line in the dark hair and I thought I 
might have seen the telltale glistening of her 
lubrication. Once again I caught the scent of her 
excitement.

	In the square, each girl raised her skirt to 
display the results of her punishment. On some, you 
could not tell. Louisa did not have that problem.

	The second day was similar to the first. Her 
spanking was not as long, but her ass still glowed 
red. We talked more. She asked me many questions about 
my country. She prepared my meals and cleaned the 
house, sleeping at night on the couch.

	On the morning of the third day, she said, "This 
is my last day. They will not inspect us tomorrow. I 
know that the town expects me to be punished more than 
anyone else. You must make sure that our efforts are 
extensive. But, I have a request." She blushed. "The 
back of the bench is rough against my nipples. Will 
you tie me to your bed. The sheets are so much 
smoother."

	"Of course."

	She arranged two pillows in the middle of the bed 
and lay across them so her ass was rounded high. I 
tied each wrist to a corner of the headboard.  Walking 
to the foot of the bed, I realized what would be 
necessary to tie her legs.  Each would have to be tied 
to a corner of the bed, spreading her legs and 
exposing her completely.  It was what she expected.  
She spread her legs as I tied one cord to the leg at 
the corner of the foot of the bed.  I tied it to her 
ankle and then I did the other leg.  She had made it 
clear that I must tie her tight.

	When I was through, I looked at her. The lips of 
her sex were opened slightly. The position she was in 
exposed her completely. I could see the pearly pink 
tip of her clitoris. As always, there was a wait 
before the spanking began. She got wet in that time. 
Her moisture glistened and the lips between her legs 
seemed to swell. They grew more and more red. Her 
aroma permeated the room.

	I used the paddle on her, moving it each time in 
order to redden her entire ass. I moved it low and it 
fell across her exposed pussy.

	She squirmed and said, "More."

	To the limits of her bonds, she arched her ass 
higher and it seemed to me that she was trying to open 
herself to the blows that fell. It was obviously 
sexual. Her slick wetness had dampened the hair around 
her pussy. The inside of her thighs glistened. The 
pillow beneath her was wet. I planned to sleep on that 
pillow in the hopes that I could enjoy her scent. And 
she moaned. It was the most noise she had made during 
a spanking. She had cried and occasionally an 
involuntary whimper would escape, but on thisday it 
was much louder. She thrashed about, throwing her head 
from side to side but always arching high to receive 
the blows from the paddle. I sensed that she had an 
orgasm.

	After I released her, she took a corner of the 
sheet and pressed it between her legs to absorb the 
moisture. "Thank you," she said.

	That day the Witnesses presented her with a rose 
that indicated she had redeemed herself. She smiled 
and kissed me on the cheek.

	I had heard what often happened on the last day 
of the Festival, but had dared to hope that it was 
true. I would find out the following day. On the last 
day of the Festival, the participants were considered 
to be adults and no longer required to serve or be 
punished. Their punishers were expected to spend the 
day with them as equals. Louisa returned to my room 
with me. She still had difficulty sitting but she was 
laughing and smiling with all her friends. Their pride 
was almost tangible.

	We sat and I poured her a glass of wine, raising 
my glass in a toast.

	"So, what do you think of our Festival."

	"It was interesting."

	She laughed. "I bet." She took a sip of wine. 
"All the girls hoped to be punished by you."

	I coughed on my wine. "Why?"

	She shrugged. "It is a little embarrassing to be 
seen naked and exposed to be spanked. You hope it is 
with someone nice."

	Her attitude was different. She knew she was 
equal. It surprised me all the more that she had been 
so servile before.She sat her glass down and 
continued, "After all, I know and you know how excited 
I got. You don't want to share that with someone like 
Leonard the butcher."

	I laughed.

	"Am I shocking you?"

	"A little."

	She smiled. "Did you enjoy seeing me naked?"

	"Of course." Honesty seemed to be the best 
policy.

	"Did it excite you to spank me?"

	"Yes, and that bothers me a little."

	"It shouldn't. It hurt, but now that its over, I 
can look back and say I enjoyed it. I guess that's why 
a lot of our people enjoy spankings with their lovers. 
Not as hard and not with a paddle, of course."

	"Of course."

	We drank in silence as the sun set across the 
verdant hills above the village.

	"Will you spank me again?"

	

	My voice cracked. "Yes."

	She stood and walked in front of me. "Don't tie 
me and use your hand." She took off her dress and 
stood before and once again I could smell the familiar 
scent of her arousal.  I took her hand and guided her 
across my knees. I could feel the heat through the 
thin cotton pants I wore. I rested my hand on her 
bottom. It was surprisingly cool to my touch. Her legs 
were together and I could not see between them.

	"Spank me. Gently."

	I spanked her.

	"A little harder. Spank both sides." So I did. 
And she started to rotate her hips. My hardness grew 
against her. She spread her legs.  "There," she said, 
"spank me there." I spanked lightly against the soft 
flesh between her legs, feeling its heat and wetness 
on my hand.

	She moved more. I let my hand rest on her. Her 
hands reached back and her full weight was on my lap. 
She spread the cheeks of her bottom wide, opening the 
lips of her sex and exposing her anus. "Spank me 
there."

	My hand trail wetness up to her anus. I spanked 
her lightly, cupping my hand so that the tips of my 
fingers would strike her anus and the wet opening of 
her sex.  She came while I did that, writhing with 
abandon and passion.

	In one swift move she stood and tugged my pants 
down. She centered herself on me and my cock pressed 
into her depth. I grasped her reddened ass and came 
while buried deep inside of her.accepted by the 
residents of the small home in which I'd chosen to 
live and work. I enjoyed my status as resident 
foreigner. No one had ever stayed as a visitor as long 
as me and I was treated to the best wine and invited 
to the smallest of gatherings. The people of that 
place enjoyed life and I had enjoyed more than one 
encounter with the vibrant and willing ladies of the 
town.

	I often sat and watch the young men and women of 
the town come down out of the fields where they 
harvested the grapes that went into the wine for which 
the country is known. The boys were strong and moved 
with a sensuous grace, the women moved with the 
vibrancy of youth, their lithe limbs and firm breasts 
a constant source of enjoyment. It was the 
introduction of those young people of the city into 
society as adults that introduced me to one of the 
most unusual and erotic customs I have encountered in 
my travels.

	

	The society of the town is closed and reflects 
the unique beliefs of its townspeople regarding life. 
The children of the town are offered freedom. They are 
taught the things they need to know, but they are 
taught to do what they want. If they do not want to 
work on a particular day, they don't. If they get in 
mischief of almost any sort, it is as if it is ignored 
- until the Festival of Redemption in the fall of 
their twenty-second year.

	

	There are many cultural and historical aspects of 
the Festival. However, I suspect that the readers here 
will be more interested in the erotic aspects of the 
week and I will direct this story toward those. It is 
with some pride that I obtained the level of respect 
necessary to be asked to participate. More than 
anything, that confirmed my acceptance into the 
community. I was living with one of the town elders, 
Mario, and I suspect he had much to do with my 
invitation to participate. He explained what was 
expected of me. 

	The people of that city allow their children much 
freedom, but from a very young age they are taught 
that though they can get away with almost anything as 
a child, to become an adult, the town will make them 
pay for the transgressions of their youth. The 
Festival is a week of measured punishment, meted out 
according to a consensus among the elders as to the 
price each young person must pay to enter adulthood. 
It is a week of service and punishment. In the 
curiosity of this culture, the participants eagerly 
await their duty. It is their rite of passage. Not to 
participate is unthinkable. They would not be able to 
marry or get a meaningful job or participate in any of 
the privileges afforded an adult member of their 
society. Perhaps a few have left town, but, if so, 
they are never mentioned.

	

	I was uncomfortable at first, but I know that the 
rites and customs of a foreign society are not mine to 
question.

	

	On the first day of the Festival the adults of 
the town, including me, gathered in the square and 
drew marbles from a box. Those who drew red marbles 
gathered together as did each group that drew blue and 
yellow. The number of red marbles equaled the number 
of males who were participating. The number of blue 
marbles equaled the number of girls.  Those who did 
not draw a red or blue got a yellow and became 
Witnesses of Redemption. I drew a blue.  The "reds" 
went to a field where a platform had been constructed.  
Those of us who drew blue gathered in the square. 
Those who had drawn yellow lined up again and drew 
again to determine whether they were to witness for 
the males or females. In turn, they joined those of us 
at the field or in the square.

	In a short while the fourteen girls who were 
participants walked into the square. The town people 
were joyful and in high spirits. The girls demeanor 
was a little different and in keeping with their role. 
Each was dressed in a thin white dress, specially made 
for the occasion, and they walked in single file, 
their hands at their side and their eyes lowered. 
Tears glistened on the cheeks of a few that were 
undoubtedly wishing they had been a bit more 
circumspect as they matured. Many in the crowd yelled 
out to the girls, reminding them of something long in 
their past. You'd hear, "Julia! Remember when you were 
10, you took my sheets off the line and made a tent." 
And there would be much laughter, as the transgressor 
blushed.

	The girls lined up randomly, as did we. One by 
one, we were matched with our ward for the next four 
days. There was much laughter as I walked forward to 
stand by Louisa. She was well known. I had seen her 
argue with shop owners. I had seen her at the town 
dances. She loved to party and she often left the 
fields if there was anything else of interest going 
on. She was headstrong, her dark eyes flashing 
defiance and willfulness as they probablyhad for the 
last twenty years. I sensed that the town was going to 
make her pay dearly.

	In turn, each girl stood before the crowd and the 
witnesses and punishers alike would take turns telling 
the things they remembered about the girl's past. In 
the end, the elders would announce the extent of 
punishment each would receive. The lightest ordered 
was one light whipping a day for three days and 
service to the punisher. It took a long time for 
everyone to recite Louisa's wrongs. The Mayor said, 
"Louisa, you have heard your neighbors. Do you desire 
to redeem yourself?"

	"Yes," she answered quitely.

	"We have decided that you are to determine your 
own punishment.  You are to serve each day and each 
day you will request the punishment you feel is 
necessary to redeem yourself."

	There was much laughter at that. I was to learn 
that the punishment she would have to endure was the 
harshest possible. If she did not do enough, she would 
have to wait another year to redeem herself. Some of 
the other girls even smiled.

	I led her back to my room. She would stay with me 
the rest of the Festival. She would cook and clean. 
And I was to administer corporal punishment as she 
requested.

	I was a little uneasy and when we were alone, I 
said, "Louisa, I am almost a stranger and where I come 
from we do not do this. I want you to know that I will 
not tell if you do not ask for a spanking."

	She looked fearful and said, "No! You must spank 
me. They will look at me and they must know that I 
have redeemed myself. Please, do it right. Promise." 
"Okay, of course I will do as you ask."

	"Then spank me now. And tell them tomorrow how I 
asked for a spanking the first thing. Humble me and 
tell them. I want there to be no question in their 
minds."

	"As you were told, you're going to have to tell 
me just what you want me to do. I'm very uncomfortable 
with this."

	She smiled at that. "Thank you for caring. Do not 
worry about me, this is what we do. I had a lot of fun 
growing up and I accept that it's time to pay the 
price. So, tie me and spank me. Use the paddle. Its 
time."

	Each home has a chair designed for this purpose. 
Often it is handed down from generation to generation. 
I led Louisa to the upholstered bench that was 
prominent in my room. The back was rounded and just 
the right height. I fumbled with the cord that had 
been prepared earlier.

	"It must be done on my bare skin." She stood 
there, her head bowed slightly and her hands at her 
side.

	I knew that she expected me to follow the customs 
of the Festival. I decided to do my best. "Louisa, it 
is time to begin your punishment. You must remove your 
dress and I will bind you to the chair. You will think 
of the wrongs in your past and request the punishment 
you are due."

	"Thank you," she said, "for permitting me to 
redeem myself."

	She removed her dress. I wondered if anyone in 
town could avoid the sexual excitement that permeated 
this adventure. All through town young men and women 
were experiencing similar events. Her body was sleek 
and firm, her breasts, not large, but firm. Her 
nipples were swollen and I realized that even those 
being punished must often experience some varying 
degree of sexual pleasure at what was happening. The 
jet black hair on her head was duplicated between her 
legs.

	I went to the front of the bench. She stood 
behind it and bent over at the waist, extending her 
arms to the side. I tied a cord to each wrist and tied 
the cord to one of the legs of the bench at each end, 
stretching her arms away from her. Her breast grazed 
the cloth on the back of the bench and I imagined the 
stimulation she must be feeling.

	I walked behind her in order to tie her legs. Her 
bottom was round and firm. Fine, tiny hairs glowed in 
the light of the lamp. I knelt behind her and enjoyed 
the close view of her bottom. Although she kept her 
legs together, I could see the hair that covered her 
sex where it curled a short way up the crevasse of her 
ass. I picked up the scent of her and it was the heady 
aroma of a woman's desire. I tied her ankles to the 
middle leg of the bench, allowing her some degree of 
modesty.

	The paddle used is made of a soft woven fiber, 
tightly braided into a strap about three inches wide. 
I sat behind her, holding the paddle. "Tell me when 
you're ready."

	She stayed silent for some time, bent and tied 
firmly over the bench. I was hard and decided to quit 
worrying about the pleasure I was experiencing. 
Finally, she said, "Spank me."

	I stood to one side and swung the paddle against 
her bottom.

	"Harder." 

	I spanked her again. 

	"Harder, it must be harder."

	There was a fine sheen of perspiration on her 
back. I felt a trickle of sweat move down my spine and 
I swung even harder, the paddle smacking against her 
bare skin. Her faced was flushed, her eyes rimmed with 
tears.

	I paused and she said, "More, you must spank me 
some more. My bottom must be red so they will know." 
And so I spanked her harder and longer and her ass 
became feverishly red from the paddling she received. 
Although she squirmed, her bottom moving involuntarily 
from side to side, she could not escape and she never 
cried out.

	Finally, after much longer than I expected she 
let forth an explosive breath and said, "Okay, enough. 
Am I red? Can you tell that I got a good spanking?"

	"Yes, very much so."

	"Good. Thank you."

	I untied her. She turned in front of the mirror 
to see that the evidence of her spanking was obvious. 
She ate standing up that night. In the morning, she 
raised her skirt and looked at rear. The marks of the 
previous nights spanking had diminished.

	"You must spank me again before we go to the 
square."

	Before we left to join the crowd at the square, 
she bent over the table, grasping its edge. I raised 
her skirt above her waist. She braced herself, 
planting her feet about a foot and a half apart. I 
held the skirt with one hand as I spanked her. I could 
see the darker flesh of her anus. The slit of her sex 
showed in a pink line in the dark hair and I thought I 
might have seen the telltale glistening of her 
lubrication. Once again I caught the scent of her 
excitement.

	In the square, each girl raised her skirt to 
display the results of her punishment. On some, you 
could not tell. Louisa did not have that problem.

	The second day was similar to the first. Her 
spanking was not as long, but her ass still glowed 
red. We talked more. She asked me many questions about 
my country. She prepared my meals and cleaned the 
house, sleeping at night on the couch.

	On the morning of the third day, she said, "This 
is my last day. They will not inspect us tomorrow. I 
know that the town expects me to be punished more than 
anyone else. You must make sure that our efforts are 
extensive. But, I have a request." She blushed. "The 
back of the bench is rough against my nipples. Will 
you tie me to your bed. The sheets are so much 
smoother."

	"Of course."

	She arranged two pillows in the middle of the bed 
and lay across them so her ass was rounded high. I 
tied each wrist to a corner of the headboard.  Walking 
to the foot of the bed, I realized what would be 
necessary to tie her legs.  Each would have to be tied 
to a corner of the bed, spreading her legs and 
exposing her completely.  It was what she expected.  
She spread her legs as I tied one cord to the leg at 
the corner of the foot of the bed.  I tied it to her 
ankle and then I did the other leg.  She had made it 
clear that I must tie her tight.

	When I was through, I looked at her. The lips of 
her sex were opened slightly. The position she was in 
exposed her completely. I could see the pearly pink 
tip of her clitoris. As always, there was a wait 
before the spanking began. She got wet in that time. 
Her moisture glistened and the lips between her legs 
seemed to swell. They grew more and more red. Her 
aroma permeated the room.

	I used the paddle on her, moving it each time in 
order to redden her entire ass. I moved it low and it 
fell across her exposed pussy.

	She squirmed and said, "More."

	To the limits of her bonds, she arched her ass 
higher and it seemed to me that she was trying to open 
herself to the blows that fell. It was obviously 
sexual. Her slick wetness had dampened the hair around 
her pussy. The inside of her thighs glistened. The 
pillow beneath her was wet. I planned to sleep on that 
pillow in the hopes that I could enjoy her scent. And 
she moaned. It was the most noise she had made during 
a spanking. She had cried and occasionally an 
involuntary whimper would escape, but on thisday it 
was much louder. She thrashed about, throwing her head 
from side to side but always arching high to receive 
the blows from the paddle. I sensed that she had an 
orgasm.

	After I released her, she took a corner of the 
sheet and pressed it between her legs to absorb the 
moisture. "Thank you," she said.

	That day the Witnesses presented her with a rose 
that indicated she had redeemed herself. She smiled 
and kissed me on the cheek.

	I had heard what often happened on the last day 
of the Festival, but had dared to hope that it was 
true. I would find out the following day. On the last 
day of the Festival, the participants were considered 
to be adults and no longer required to serve or be 
punished. Their punishers were expected to spend the 
day with them as equals. Louisa returned to my room 
with me. She still had difficulty sitting but she was 
laughing and smiling with all her friends. Their pride 
was almost tangible.

	We sat and I poured her a glass of wine, raising 
my glass in a toast.

	"So, what do you think of our Festival."

	"It was interesting."

	She laughed. "I bet." She took a sip of wine. 
"All the girls hoped to be punished by you."

	I coughed on my wine. "Why?"

	She shrugged. "It is a little embarrassing to be 
seen naked and exposed to be spanked. You hope it is 
with someone nice."

	Her attitude was different. She knew she was 
equal. It surprised me all the more that she had been 
so servile before.She sat her glass down and 
continued, "After all, I know and you know how excited 
I got. You don't want to share that with someone like 
Leonard the butcher."

	I laughed.

	"Am I shocking you?"

	"A little."

	She smiled. "Did you enjoy seeing me naked?"

	"Of course." Honesty seemed to be the best 
policy.

	"Did it excite you to spank me?"

	"Yes, and that bothers me a little."

	"It shouldn't. It hurt, but now that its over, I 
can look back and say I enjoyed it. I guess that's why 
a lot of our people enjoy spankings with their lovers. 
Not as hard and not with a paddle, of course."

	"Of course."

	We drank in silence as the sun set across the 
verdant hills above the village.

	"Will you spank me again?"

	

	My voice cracked. "Yes."

	She stood and walked in front of me. "Don't tie 
me and use your hand." She took off her dress and 
stood before and once again I could smell the familiar 
scent of her arousal.  I took her hand and guided her 
across my knees. I could feel the heat through the 
thin cotton pants I wore. I rested my hand on her 
bottom. It was surprisingly cool to my touch. Her legs 
were together and I could not see between them.

	"Spank me. Gently."

	I spanked her.

	"A little harder. Spank both sides." So I did. 
And she started to rotate her hips. My hardness grew 
against her. She spread her legs.  "There," she said, 
"spank me there." I spanked lightly against the soft 
flesh between her legs, feeling its heat and wetness 
on my hand.

	She moved more. I let my hand rest on her. Her 
hands reached back and her full weight was on my lap. 
She spread the cheeks of her bottom wide, opening the 
lips of her sex and exposing her anus. "Spank me 
there."

	My hand trail wetness up to her anus. I spanked 
her lightly, cupping my hand so that the tips of my 
fingers would strike her anus and the wet opening of 
her sex.  She came while I did that, writhing with 
abandon and passion.

	In one swift move she stood and tugged my pants 
down. She centered herself on me and my cock pressed 
into her depth. I grasped her reddened ass and came 
while buried deep inside of her.