A New Years Eve Tradition

New Year's Eve is a special night for Amelie and me and our friends Mike and Sharon. For over a decade now, on that holiday, it's always been just the four of us, at our house or theirs.

The first time we were together was at our house, and I began a certain tradition. We'd broken out the champagne early, and the women were getting a little giddy. They were making various wisecracks, often at the expense of one of the other of the men. It was all in good fun, but after a while, I had an impulse to set some limits.

"I think the wives may need to be spanked tonight," I said. Mike smiled and didn't say anything. The women just giggled.

We had a movie on, and ostensibly turned our attention back to that for a while. But what I'd said seemed to hang in the air, something that each of us might now be imagining in our mind's eye.

Mike and Sharon sat on a loveseat, while Amelie and I were on the sofa. The ladies were wearing short skirts, which surely had helped inspire my suggestion. I'm sure not everyone thinks this way, but to me a short skirt carries a message of female submission. Not only are the woman's legs on display, but her panties might be as well. I love the way gals sometimes give their hems a little downward tug, as if they're self-conscious about what's being revealed; it's such an ineffective gesture, as there's only so much material there. Plus, it doesn't take much effort on a man's part to flip that skirt up when the time is right.

Anyway, the movie ended. It was about 11 pm. I clicked off the TV and said, "They'll need a safeword."

"What?" said Amelie. My wife's French and petite, and I love her ingenue quality. I'd given her a safeword for occasional use in the past, but that was just between her and me. I addressed myself to Mike, as if the women were just bystanders. "In case they get spanked and it's too much for them, their safeword is 'cinammon,'" I said. Mike smiled again, this time with a nod.

"Screw both of you," said Sharon. She's always been more assertive than Amelie, and is on the tall side, probably 5'10," an inch taller than me. Mike, at 6'2," was the most physically imposing of us four, and it pleased me to imagine him pulling Sharon across his knee while I did the same with Amelie. On the other hand, I was starting to muse about either man putting either woman over his lap if they misbehaved on New Year's Eve.

"I didn't say anything," said Mike to Sharon. "But since you're being so difficult, I'm beginning to see Rand's point."

Sharon furrowed her brow. "You wouldn't dare, you prick," she challenged her husband. Mike raised an eyebrow at her, with some mix of bemusement and surprise. Amelie giggled again. "You've got the safeword," she said to Sharon. "You can use it before anything happens."

"My word for these guys is 'fuck you,'" Sharon shot back. "And I know that neither one of them has the balls to even try to do what they're talking about."

I waited for a moment to see if Mike had any immediate reply. As he didn't, I stood up. "Well," I said. "I'm the man of this house, and I set up these rules, so I'll have to enforce them." I grabbed Sharon's arm, pulled her to a standing position and then over to the sofa. "Excuse me, dear," I said to Amelie. "I'll need some space." Amelie stood up and walked around us, sitting next to Mike on the loveseat, which I thought was an interesting choice. I sat on the sofa and pulled Sharon across my lap. "Do you want to use your safeword?" I asked, thinking I was about to hear "cinnamon" and have to let her up.

"Suck my dick!" Sharon yelled. I looked over at Mike, and he just chuckled and shrugged.

I was quite sure Sharon was not going to turn out to be a she-male, but I said, "Let's see what you've got," as I flipped up her black skirt, revealing a pair of pink panties. I brought my hand down on that seat. "Bastard!" said Sharon, not quite as loud as before. She reached back, trying first to pull her skirt back down, then to cover her butt with her hand. I didn't let her do either, instead grabbing her wrist and pinning her arm to the small of her back.

I brought my hand down and again. Not too hard, just enough to give a little sting through those panties. After some 20 spanks, Sharon's cursing had stopped, and she just lay there quietly as I continued for another 10 or so. "OK, get up," I said, with a final little pat. I was tempted to tell her to stand in the corner, but I wanted her to see the next step I had in mind.

"Mike," I said. "Will you do the honors with Amelie?" The two looked at each on the loveseat, as Sharon stood off to the side straightening out her skirt. "Over here, I suggest," I said, getting up and gesturing toward the sofa.

Mike grabbed my wife's arm, walked her over to the sofa, and pulled her across his lap. As he flipped up her dark blue skirt, he asked, "Do I hear a safeword?" Amelie just shook her head, her face a bit buried in the sofa. Her panties were light blue. Mike's hand came down again and again on my wife's cute butt, though probably with a little less force than I'd applied to his wife's backside. As this was going on, I sat on the loveseat, and Sharon sat down next to me with a smile. There didn't seem to be any hard feelings. Amelie, for her part, didn't do any cursing and struggling, but did give a little kick a few times as Mike's hand landed.

Midnight arrived soon after. We had a little more champagne, and then went to bed. As had been planned all along, Mike and Sharon stayed overnight, and no, we didn't stay in one bedroom or swap wives or anything like that. Keeping things simple seemed best.

But we had started a new tradition. The four of us get together every New Year's Eve. Short skirts for the ladies are de rigueur, and the main uncertainty is whether each wife will be spanked by her own husband, the other man, or both. Another thing that varies is whether the panties stay up or not. The spankings are never very hard, just enough to show that the men are in charge; though an additional wrinkle in recent years is that Mike's sometimes delegated his authority to Sharon, who promptly puts Amelie over her knee. My wife was a bit startled by that the first time, but soon reconciled herself to a woman's hand. Sharon can sometimes be a little ornery, saying "cocksucker" and such as she's going across my or Mike's lap, but that backtalk's long gone by the time we're saying Happy New Year. Each year, we check early in the evening that the wives remember the word "cinnamon," but it's otherwise never heard.