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From: "Mr. Maquido" <maquido@hotmail.com>
Subject: Redemption (spanking MF)
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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 
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 probably

had 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 this
day 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.


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