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.