June's Big Adventure

It seems like forever ago that I described Randy's plan to recreate an evening in the Cleaver household. Basically, he wanted me to play the role of June Cleaver, the fictional 1950s housewife from the sitcom, Leave It to Beaver. Once he recognized that I was intrigued by the assignment, he left most of the details to me. We had set a date, but a series of unforeseen distractions caused us to postpone it twice. I finally got to be June last Saturday evening. This is the tale of what happened.

When I was first given this assignment, I spent some time researching my character and her costume. I loved the idea of being elegant but submissive, and practical yet ditzy. I could easily imagine how an OTK spanking might fit well into that scenario.

The clothes ended up being the most challenging element. I rejoiced at finding a 1950s-style green and white plaid shirt dress. It was a cotton blend, rather than the wool numbers that June often wore, but it was close enough. I already had a white nylon full slip and a pair of stockings. I had planned to wear my garter belt with the stockings, but the readers convinced me that a girdle was a necessity.

So shopping I went. I found a full-figured bra that was apparently designed to evoke memories of the Golden Gate Bridge. Better still, I actually located an open-bottomed girdle, complete with garters. Both bra and girdle were utilitarian white.

I enhanced the look with a pair of avocado green pumps. This seemed like precisely the sort of impractical footwear that June might wear around the house.

When the magical day arrived, I prepared my look as carefully as if I were about to appear on stage. I wanted everything to be perfect, or as close as I could achieve. I showered in mid-afternoon in order to ensure that everything would be ready when Randy returned from work around 5:30. When I walked out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel on my head, I shivered with anticipation. There on the bed lay all of the clothing I had assembled for this special evening.

The bra was bulky and didn't fit quite right, but it wasn't uncomfortable. I matched it with a pair of full cut white nylon briefs. The girdle, basically an elastic tube, was a challenge to get into. Despite buying a larger size than I thought I needed, it still put up a good fight. I attached my stockings to the garters dangling from each side. Over the top went my lacy full slip.

The dress was quite comfortable and fit great over my newly molded curves. I took a moment to admire the look in the mirror. I didn't linger long though, because much work remained. I turned next to my hair and makeup. My hair is naturally straight and shoulder length. After much debate and a failed experiment with styling gel (I had visions of Marlo Thomas), I gave up and pulled it up into a bun. I applied my makeup a little heavier than normal and finished with some cardinal red lipstick I purchased for the occasion.

I stepped into my new pumps, put on the obligatory string of pearls (with earrings to match!), and headed downstairs. To finish the June character, I found a favorite apron in the kitchen and tied it around my waist. I couldn't help wandering into the lavatory to check myself in the mirror. It felt very strange to sit, move, and walk in that girdle. I don't how my mother and her friends tolerated it all the time. Perhaps one gets used to it, but I surely didn't.

Just then, the telephone rang. I could see on the caller ID that it was Randy.

"Hello, Cleaver residence!" I answered in a cheery tone.

He just laughed. He promised to bring home some Chinese food for dinner. The first thought to enter my head was how advantageous it was to have a dinner that would be easy to reheat later.

Randy didn't arrive until about a half hour later. I spent this time nervously fidgeting and working at nothing. I knew it would be a fun evening, but I was impatient for it to begin.

"Hi Honey, I'm home," he crooned as he climbed the stairs from the garage. I met him in the kitchen with a big smile and arms outstretched. I would normally have kissed him, but it seemed better to allow my man to observe the results of my preparations.

"Wow. Just wow. You're totally June Cleaver."

With that, he embraced me and proceeded to inspect my body with his hands. With each new discovery, he would whisper a naughty nothing into my ear. He told me that he wanted to take June behind closed doors and violate her in all the ways she loves. I tittered with eagerness.

Before long, he was lightly swatting my bottom with his open hand as the opposite arm held me in his embrace. I might as well have been wearing a suit of armor. Even his firmer swats were ineffectual.

"I'll have to paddle you later. Right now, though, I'd like a favor from June."

This phrase needed no translation. His meaning was quite clear. I motioned for him to sit in a chair next to the kitchen table. I then knelt in front of him, lowered his zipper, and liberated his joystick. I paused only long enough to retrieve a small cushion for my knees before focusing my carnal attentions in earnest. I squeezed his shaft between my tongue and the roof of my mouth as I slid the former back and forth. Randy moaned in appreciation. I served him well.

I put the Chinese food in the refrigerator and we moved the dance to our bedroom.

"June, what's this I hear about you not tending to the Beaver's grooming?"

I couldn't help it. I laughed.

"Do you think it's funny? Don't you care about trimming the Beaver's hair?"

By now, I was rolling on the bed in hysterics. I wanted to role play, but this was just so silly!

"When was the last time you scrubbed the Beaver? Cleanliness is very important you know." By this time, Randy was laughing almost as hard as I was.

"We certainly wouldn't want the Beaver to get an infection."

After a couple minutes, the hilarity died down enough for Randy to continue with his program. "I can see that I'm going to have to spank you for your willful neglect of the Beaver."

Randy sat on the edge of the bed and dragged me over his lap. He raised my dress and slip and tried spanking with his hand over the girdle. Again, this approach proved inadequate. He asked me to lift my torso for a moment. When I complied, he unhitched my stockings and shoved my girdle upward. Now, with only my flimsy nylon panties for protection, his swats again delivered the delicious sting to which I am accustomed.

It wasn't an especially long spanking. Nor was it particularly hard. But this spanking was quite memorable because we laughed our way through it. We covered every possible variation involving mistreatment of a Beaver and discussed each in detail. I can honestly say this spanking made me cry, but it had nothing to do with the pain.

He accused me of teaching the Beaver to hum, letting the Beaver slide, working the Beaver too hard, and so forth. We both laughed until our stomachs ached.

When we settled down a little, Randy had me lie on my back on the bed. He spread my legs and gave the Beaver an impressive tongue lashing (I'm sorry, we just can't help it!). Even through my panties, his technique yielded the desired results.

Before long, the girdle, panties, and stockings were all discarded. Standing on the floor, my lover grabbed my thighs and pulled me to the side of the bed. He entered me swiftly and begin an exquisite pumping action where his strong arms pulled me toward him just as his hips thrust forward. The combination of depth and velocity drove me over the edge and into a sea of coital bliss.

Our June Cleaver night didn't quite go according to script, but it was a success nonetheless. Yesterday, Randy shared another fun scenario hatched within his fertile mind. Rather than telegraph it again and make everyone wait, I believe I'll save it instead as a special surprise. So, stay tuned to this station!

Keywords: spanking, roleplay spanking, fifties spanking, spanking story, spanking and sex, Bonnie, erotic spanking