Spanked in Space

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Spanked in Space

"Columbia, this is Houston -- Are you ready to start glutial stimulation experiments?"

"Roger, Houston," answered Mission Commander Joel Mason, "everything here is a 'go.'"

Joel, and the other five crewmembers looked at me as I started to detach the fasteners on my space suit.

"Glutial Stimulation Experiments, indeed!" I thought. NASA was concerned about the effects of prolonged space flight, and how it affects human physiology. They knew that physical stimulation was a key element in keeping muscles toned, and in the production of enzymes and other body chemicals needed for the healthy operation of a human being.

The bottom line was, they wanted to know if spanking could be used to counter the effects of weightlessness. I was lucky enough to be the spankee. What a girl won't go through to get a shot at a shuttle mission!

Joel was selected (after much auditioning with other members of the crew) to administer the spanking. Janice, the crew's biologist was selected as back-up spanker in the event Joel could not complete the mission as assigned.

Like everything else NASA does, we rehearsed spanking over and over in the simulator. Although a number of spanking techniques were demonstrated during training, the only one authorized for this experiment was an open-hand, bare-ass, over-the-knee spanking.

That's just the problem. In orbit, there's no gravity to hold you on someone's knee. I thought of this as my naked form floated past Joel. I balled-up and twisted to present myself posterior-first to him. I wanted my backside to come at him like a "balloon pitch" in softball. That is, a big, fat pitch that's easy to hit.

Not that my ass is big and fat, but it's one of the larger ones on the crew. Maybe that's why *I* was picked.

Joel made a resounding, solid contact with my buns. I grabbed my knees tighter to keep from opening up. His hit was a little off-center and sent me spinning around the crew compartment.

Joel waited for me to rotate back into position and delivered a blow to my other cheek, this one calculated to counteract the first.

It worked -- somewhat. I was now rotating slower. Joel adapted rapidly. With an extra free hand -- one not used to steady me as it would in a terrestrial spanking, he started spanking me with both hands. He alternated cheeks and had me rocking back and forth.

He slowly worked me from one end of the compartment to the other this way, dribbling my cheeks like basketballs. When we got to the end, he gave me one final swat to turn me around, got behind me, and dribbled me back across the court.

All the events were photographed both by the on-board cameras and by crew-operated, hand-held cameras. Every vital sign was transmitted via telemetry back to Houston where scores of doctors were already analyzing the effect Joel's spanking had on me.

I wondered if this experiment would make the 11 o'clock news.

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