They're on the point of leaving when Jon notices a box in the hall.
"Having a clear out," he enquires of their hosts.
"All going to the charity shop," confirms Mike.
Jon rummages through the contents, initially disinterestedly then, to Tina's horror, spots a table tennis bat. Knowing how much he enjoys repurposing everyday items she immediately guesses his intention.
"We got enough junk, don't need that old thing," Tina tries to keep her tone light. Can't risk giving anything away. I know we're all liberated and grown up about sex these days, she thinks, but that doesn't mean sharing certain intimacies with pals.
Jon examines the bat. "In good nick," he observes.
"Didn't know you played," observes Mike.
"Rarely," lies Jon. Never, they don't even possess a net. Meanwhile, Mike's partner, Roxie, has been shrewdly observing.
"Take it, Jon, bound to come in handy sooner or later," she says.
"Sold to the lowest bidder," quips Mike, and for better or worse, Tina suspects the latter, the ping pong paddle is theirs.
She drives home, Jon sits in the passenger seat with the bat in his lap and a self-satisfied smirk.
"Don't even think about it," says Tina fiercely, "there's no way you're using that to spank me; the wooden spoon you bought in the supermarket was painful enough."
"Left red marks," Jon recalls cheerfully. "However, this gem is altogether different. Think I'll keep it for when you've earned a discipline spanking." Tina scowls, deciding to keep her counsel. Don't make it a big deal, cautions an inner voice. Once the novelty wears off you can hide the beastly thing in the garage.
No chance. After a couple of days on the hall table, where it seems to glower at Tina each time she passes, the hated object disappears. Meaning Jon has purposefully stashed the bat somewhere secret; his threat to use it next time a punishment falls due constantly hangs over her head. Fortunately, life moves on and the bat, by Tina at least, is forgotten. A couple of light-hearted spanking sessions enhance their always inventive sex life in the ensuing weeks, without it making an appearance.
Until one fateful day. The two are due at an afternoon barbeque nearby, to which Mike and Roxie are also invited. Tina dons an attractive short dress and lingers over her make-up.
"Hurry up," urges Jon, as she applies lip gloss, "I'm hungry."
"Should've had a snack," observes Tina, fastening ear hoops.
"Was going to, then discovered you'd hidden the instructions for the new microwave."
"If by hidden you mean put into the kitchen drawer, guilty as charged," responds Tina tartly.
"You," Jon adopts a warning tone, "are pushing your luck."
"And what are you going to do..." the words are out before Tina has time to consider their implication. Her beloved's face darkens. Oh, dear, she's about to find out.
"Right," he snaps, decisively reaching to the top of the wardrobe and producing the dreaded wooden bat.
"There's no time..." Tina's pathetic plea is predictably ignored.
"Over my knee now," commands her husband, and non-too gently, pulls his reluctant spouse facedown across his lap to reveal Tina's pert posterior. "Panties down," Jon pins Tina's wrists and drags her knickers to her knees.
"Not on the bare," she wails.
"Let's see if this alters your attitude," says Jon, bringing the bat down with a ringing slap. Never, since discovering their mutual kink, has she encountered an implement so unforgiving. Its inflexible wooden surface covers such a broad area overlap is impossible to avoid, magnifying the bat's chastening effect. Right from the very first application it hurts, each impact stings and burns. Mercifully, after a comparatively short time - albeit seeming like an age to Tina - Jon ceases her correction. Immediately she leaps up, tears welling, to clutch her burning bum.
"Bloody hell," she moans, gingerly rubbing livid buttocks, "worse than anything you spanked me with before; hairbrush, strap, nothing comes close." Tina dances on the spot, trying and failing to soothe the smart and looks aghast at her hot hindquarters. "God my poor bottom, not just scarlet it's swollen," she laments.
"Come here," her husband perches Tina on his lap.
