Three Ghosts of Halloween, Part IV

This is the fourth, and final part, of the Three Ghosts of Halloween story. It begins with Part I and continues with Part II and Part III.

It took me forever to find Brittany. The people in the living room said she was in the kitchen while the people in kitchen said she was in the living. Finally someone mentioned she had went down to the basement to get some more wine. It taken 15 minutes of searching before I finally found her a storage room in the basement.

“Hey, Bethany’s being attacked by Jake!” I exclaimed.

“What?” Brittany was clearly shocked by my statement. “Attacked?” She probably had more to drink than me, so logic wasn’t her strong suit at the moment.

“Come on, I’ll show you!” I took her hand, and led her upstairs to the master bathroom. During the winding trip upstairs, I started questioning why I had searched for Brittany over Rick or Adam. Either man would have been able to put an instant stop to Jake’s actions. They had meet when playing football in college as walk-on linebackers and neither had lost much of their physics since college.

When we got to the master bedroom, I went straight for the bathroom door, while Brittany held back slightly. Throwing open the door exposed the completely empty bathroom. By this point I figured Jake would have fled, but Bethany also?

“She was right here!” I swear. “And Jake was beating her like some child.”

“Ah, are you sure?” She questioned. The bathroom was obviously empty.

“He was, I swear! She was over his lap with her panties pulled down and was slapping her bottom!”

Brittany blinked slowly as if what I said had relaxed her in some way. “Why don’t you sit down so we can talk.”

“We need to find her, make sure she’s safe!” Why didn’t she want to search for her sister?

“Please, sit. I know what is going on.” Brittany took a seat on the end of her bed and gently patted the spot next to her.

Something wasn’t right. Why was she so calm? Didn’t she worry for Bethany’s safety?

“Please,” she repeated.

I reluctantly obeyed, perching tentatively on the edge of the bed.

“Have you and Adam ever had a disagreement that simmered for days? The conflict slowly eating away at you until you finally burst into a full blown fight?”

“No…” I lied. What do Adam and my martial issues have to do with Bethany? I currently was a little annoyed with Adam for forgetting to get tickets to last weekend’s symphony concert, but that didn’t matter right now.

“Are you sure?” She asked again. “Because my students can lie better than you.”

“Maybe,” I relented, waving my hand off dismissively.

“Doesn’t the emotional strain draw every bit of energy from you?”

“Yea, but arguing is kind of fun, and the makeup sex is so worth it. So what?”

“The sex is so good because you no longer have this great burden weighting you down, preventing you from feeling life.” She licked her lips as I could tell she was contemplating her next words carefully. “Some people…. Some of us have been wise enough to embrace clear, crisp solutions to martial conflicts. Going over our man’s lap and being spanked happens to be a more prevalent and successful solution.”

I think my jaw hit the ground at that moment. “You’re kidding me,” I shook my head dismissively. Spanking conflicted with everything I had been taught growing up. Men are supposed to respect women, not beat them.

“I’m not kidding. It may seem like a juvenile punishment, but between a husband and wife it is much more complex. More intimate.” Brittany explained.

“Bethany gets off on it? Like a fetish?” I asked. Fetishes were something I never really understood. I didn’t really like anything strange in the bedroom department. Just straight making out and intercourse.

“I sincerely doubt she receives any sexual pleasure during a punishment spanking. It is also not a fetish in the way feet or latex. Like I said it is more complex. You are offering yourself up to be disciplined. After which all your sins are washed away and you feel pure, innocent again.”

I cocked my head to the side trying to comprehend what she was saying.

“Remember before Adam, when you broke up with your last boyfriend who broke up with you?”

“Nope, I always dumped them.” She raised her eyebrow questioning my truthfulness again. “Ok, fine. I remember.”

“Right afterwards you were a mix of emotions; anger, sadness, confusion, etc? Then the first thing you did when you got home was cry your eyes out over a pint, or two, of Hagen Dais?”

“Yea. Rocky road was break-up go to.”

“Cookies and Cream here. Once the tears were all gone, that fog of emotions had parted and you could barely remember why you even liked the guy?”

“Yea.” Where was she going with this?

“Getting spanked is a conduit for that emotional release. You are forced to cry all those pent-up emotions out through your tears until the real you is left. The you that loves your husband with every ounce of your being.”

“Hmm. but it”

“You are offering yourself to be disciplined. Abuse is non-consensual. There is nothing abusive when you are consenting to it.”

“But…but…” I was reaching for some objectionable point, but she had already dismissed all of them.

“But you really won’t understand until you try it.”

I still wasn’t buying what ever she was selling.

“Oh, and the sex in the afterglow of a spanking is like ten times better than makeup sex.”

Now it was my turn to question her truthfulness.

“The spanking focuses your brain, and blood, on your hips area, making all your girly parts become ultra sensitive so the briefest contact.”

She paused for a long moment, offering me a chance to object, but I couldn’t think of any legitimate reason.

“I’ll think about it.” I conceded. The concept was intriguing, but still didn’t feel right. How could a modern woman like myself ALLOW a man to spank me.

“Good. And don’t worry about Bethany. I’m sure she’s fine.” Brittany stood up and started for the bedroom door. “Come on, it’s a party. Lets have some fun.”

I wasn’t in the party mood, but followed her downstairs nonetheless. I figured I should find Adam. I got to the top of the stairs when I realized I had never completed my original mission. I did a little pivot at the top of the stairs and returned to the master bathroom.

Sitting on the toilet, all I could think of was Bethany laying over Jake’s knee and that bathbrush crashing into her bottom. Her bare bottom had been a mere four feet in front of my current position. The brush, still sitting on edge of the tub, sweeping down in a mighty arc. Her yelp of pain. Her plea of acceptance. I could swear I her say “Gloria, it is OK.”

A cold breeze traveled down my spine, wrapping around to tickle my most intimate parts. The responding shiver shook my entire body off the toilet.

My heart raced. Adrenaline surged through my veins. Everywhere I looked, the bathroom was empty. But someone had just spoke to me and something had just touched me.

Shucking up my panties, I waddled as fast as possible out of the bathroom, even skipping my normal hygiene routine. I was not sure what was going on, but I did not want to be in that bathroom any more.

A sound from the bathroom caused me to glance back as I flung open the bedroom door. The sound echoed again, this time more clearly audible.
It was the sound of wood rapping on soft, smooth flesh. The sound I heard earlier and it was following me,

I rushed through the doorway, still looking over my shoulder, straight into a younger girl.

“Careful!” the girl chided.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said, holding my hands up slightly, as if I was warding off an attack from her. The petite girl was dressed up like a NFL football player, complete with the black eye hashes. Underneath the costume, she looked eerily familiar. “Wait, aren’t you girl that was on tv today? The one involved in that homecoming party?”

“Yea, my FATHER was sharing all the gory details on tv.” she said, rolling her eyes in annoyance.

“Sorry.”

“It is ok, but you should be more careful in the future, otherwise you might end up the same situation as my friends and I.”

“Hu?” I asked.

“Learning a lesson the hard way. We can all learn lessons, even as we get older. Sometimes they hurt a bunch right now and are over with, while others drag on for days or more. Honestly, I prefer the quick sharp ones.” She shrugged her shoulders, then turned to go in the direction of the upstairs bathroom.

I took one step down the stairs when I realized the news report involved a town 15 miles away. Why would that girl be here, especially if she was in that much trouble?

Pausing, I leaned back around the corner looking down the hallway towards the guest bathroom. A man was leaving the bathroom while an older women entered. The girl was gone. It was as if she had vanished. Now were my eyes playing tricks on me too? Or was it something else?

She couldn’t have just vanished. It had to be a trick. Then everything clicked. The girl the news cast, the bathroom episode, Brittany’s lame excuse about Bethany consenting to being spanked. They were all in on it and trying to prank me. Well I would show them!

I continued downstairs, back into the core of the party. Everyone else were drinking, dancing and having a generally good time. Music filled the voids between the costume bodies.

Dancing though was the farthest thing from my mind at the moment. I was determined to figure out what was going on before they completed the prank. Then I could through a monkey wrench and screw everything up. Adam just better not be involved. He knows how much I hate pranks.

None of the obvious culprits seemed to be on the main floor, so they had to be hiding in the basement.

I contemplated playing dumb as I walked down the steep steps into he basement recreation room. I’d play dumb and see what information they leaked. “Yea,” I mumbled to myself, pausing to let a young woman dressed as Little Bo Peep pass. In my contemplations I only had a brief glance at the woman’s face, but a glance was my mind needed to careen down a new path. She was familiar, but I couldn’t place her name. It took a second and I realized she was the young woman from the Halloween store. If she was here, she was probably part of the prank also.

“Hey,” I called out turning to catch her. She stopped just short of the door, a good six feet higher than my current step. My eyes naturally raised up her legs, towards her head, but stopped dead at her bottom.

The costume was a standard over-sexualized version of the storybook character, complete with a low cut blouse on the top and extra short skirt on the bottom. The flare of her petticoats, and my low vantage point, provided me a sight straight up the back of her dress, to the underlying white nylon panties. Her panties do not hold my attention like the two crimson globes sticking out of the undergarment.

Ms. Bo Peep turned around and blushed, instantly recognizing me. “Oh, hi.”

Now that I had stopped her I had no idea where to take the conversation. I wanted information about what ever prank they were pulling, but I couldn’t just come out and ask about it, so I went for the next best thing. “You were in the Halloween store this morning,” I accused while climbing a up towards her.

“Yea,” she mumbled, twisting her patent leather clad right foot in the carpeting. “You saw, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did. Who was that woman with you? Your mother?”

“Yea..” she mumbled, still avoiding eye contact.

“I just can’t believe she would spank you at your age, or that you would allow it!”

“Well, I did deserve it,” she admitted, looking up, towards my face.

“What? Your a grown woman. You don’t deserve to be spanked like a kid.”

“Sometimes I do. I don’t like it but its ok.”

“It’s OK? Your as bad as the rest of them. Retrying to convince me spanking an adult is fine.”

“Who are you talking about?” she asked with biggest fake puzzled look I had ever seen.

“You know, Brittany, Bethany, Jake, all of them. Brittany told me everything earlier. She said..”

“Bethany is spanked too!” She cut me off, covering her mouth in shock. This time it looked considerably more real than the last expression. “Wow, I didn’t know,” she said behind her hand.

“You didn’t know?”

“No….” she said.

“Then you aren’t in on the prank?”

“What prank?”

“Oh…” Now I was thoroughly confused. If she wasn’t in on the prank, why would she show me her spanked bottom, twice? “Then why were you half-naked in the dressing room?”

“Ah…because mom had just spanked me for wanting that silly leopard costume. I had been a brat towards her all morning and the fit I threw about the costume was the last straw. Sometimes it’s the only way I listen to reason. It really wasn’t that bad, more embarrassing because you heard me get it than painful.”

“But your bottom, it’s still an angry red.”

“Oh, yea…” She started blushing deeply again. “That was for this month’s credit card bill.”

I stared at her, waiting for more details.

“I’m still in college, Bethany and I are actually in the same Master’s program, so I live with my parents and they help financially while I finish my schooling. When Dad found out I maxed out my credit card eating out, he hit the roof. And his belt on my bottom.”

This time I covered my mouth in shock. “Ouch!” I mumbled.

“Yea, ouch big time. But it’s better than destroying the good relationship I have with my parents.”

“I guess. But then why are you here?” The obvious question to anyone recently punished.

“Bethany had asked me to help her with the catering, so it was fine with my parents. Normally I’d be grounded for rest of the day, but work takes precedent to punishments.” she smiled halfheartedly.

“Catering! That’s why the other girl was here!” I said realizing why the girl from TV would be at the party also. She must work for Bethany’s little catering business. “Well thank you for the information, and sorry about being spanked. I promise I won’t tell anyone, but I need to go find my husband.”

“Thanks,” she said, eager to leave our conversation.

Everything was starting to make sense. Brittany was using Bethany’s employees to trick me into getting spanked. I bet the next phase of their plan was to occur in the basement. Probably some trap to get me ‘into trouble’ and provide a reason. Well I’ll show them. They can’t spring their trap if I’m not here. I’ll grab Adam and we’ll head home. I’ll probably have to promise sex though. Ah, so what, it was worth avoiding the humiliation.

Just like Bo-Peep had said, half a dozen guys were standing around the pool table, drinking beers. Adam saw me as soon as I entered the room and with a wag of the finger, he came straight over to me.

“Honey, come on, I want to go home!” I made my best big puppy-dog eyes at him. They normally worked when I wanted something.

“Hu? why, it’s early.” Adam turned to look at the guys, who were making some kind of ruckus.

“Please?”

“Ah, honey,” He tossed back the last of his beer. “In a little bit.”

“But I want to go NOW!,” I whined.

“Well, once I finish this game. Rick and I are tied two-games a piece with Jake and Greg. We only got one more ball to win.”

“Jake?”

“Yea, Bethany’s fiance. The guy there in the batman costume. The four of us have been down here playing since we arrived.”

“The whole time?” I asked. Had they really lured Adam into their plot?

“Yea, why?” Adam asked, clearly confused. He was horrible at lying to me, and tonight, being well plied with alcohol was no exception.

“Hey, Adam, it’s your shot!” Rick called out before I could come up with some answer.

“Don’t worry, it’ll just take me a minute to win and then we can go.” Adam kissed me on the forehead and returned to the pool table.

Was this the trap? What was going to happen? I fidgeted the whole minute and a half it took Adam to sink the winning shot. They were here somewhere and I wanted to escape before whatever happened.

We just about made it out the door when we ran into Brittany and Bethany coming down from upstairs.

“You guys leaving?” Brittany asked.

“Yea, we are heading out.” Adam said, as nonchalantly as he could.

“Well I hope you liked the party.”

“It was a great party.” Adam complemented. “You out do yourselves every year.”

“Yea, great party,” I told Brittany, then added for Bethany, “You did a great job catering. Your employees were also really nice.” I leaned close to whisper, “And I won’t say anything about what I saw earlier.”

“Say anything? Employees? What are you talking about?” Bethany responded.

“You know, the football player and Bo-Peep?”

“Who? All my staff are at different parties. I’m here by myself tonight.”

“Oh, I must’ve been mistaken.”

We said our goodbyes and were off into the cool night air. The way Adam walked, something seemed to be bothering him.

“Why was it so important we leave early?” Adam asked

“Oh nothing,” I mumbled. “I just wanted to go.”

“It was quite rude though,” Adam let his annoyance with me come through in his tone.

“Sorry,” I apologized. He was right. He was always right when it came to us. It was one of those things I loved to hate about him. He always thought first, and acted second. Every argument we ever had as a couple was my stubbornness versus his, his, his correctness?

Nothing else was said until we safely home and in our bedroom. The whole walk my emotions were eating me up inside. How I had been a complete bitch to him ever since he mentioned the Halloween party 2 weeks ago. The complaining about the costume, and then getting us to leave early. His favorite holiday, and I had completely ruined it.

I’m such a bad wife.

Five words that went around and around in my head as I climbed the steps to our bedroom. Each word stabbing itself into my heart, the exorcise the pound of flesh it was rightfully owed. Twenty three steps and five words were all it took to make me feel worst than I had ever felt in my life.

I had to get rid of the pain, and now. But how?

One answer instantly filled my mind, barring everything else. It was extreme, but it would work. Wouldn’t it?

“Can we talk?” I ask Adam hesitantly once we were in the bedroom.

“What’s wrong now?” Adam sighed as he tossed his cape, wig and beard onto my makeup stand chair. He had already ditched the hat to the same chair, leaving him just dressed in the long white robe.

“Sit down please,” I asked, gesturing towards the bed. I bit my lower lip as he followed my instructions, sitting on the edge of the bed directly in front of me. Should I really do this? Could I do it?

“Yes?” he asked. I felt so small and he looked so large and regal in that flowing white robe. Wise and all knowing, like a King or a Bishop. Oddly, that put me slightly at ease.

I blinked once and just let my emotions flow. “I had a long talk with Brittany and Bethany tonight and I want to apologize for my bitchiness over the last week.” I looked at his lap the whole time. Maybe Bethany didn’t get spanked tonight, but the discussion with Brittany surely happened.

“Week?” Adam asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Fine, the past month,” I mumbled. “They. hmmmmm, they enlightened me to a better way for us to deal with our disagreements, and hmmm, and I think we should start using their model.”

“Ah OK.”

I couldn’t think of anyway to say what I wanted to say. It was like my entire vocabulary had been reduced to that of a kindergartener. “I need spanking” was all I could think of but it sounded so wrong, and childish.

“Honey?” Adam asked.

“I, hmmm, I, hmmmm.” Still unable to articulate my thoughts, I simply went for the action route. Actions are supposed to speak volumes.

I took a half a step to my left, then turned and laid myself over Adam’s outstretched knees. At that moment I realized how awkward and uncomfortable it is to lay over someone’s lap. I kept teetering between having my hands, or my feet flat on the floor, never both.

“Ah,” I could hear him stuttered. What was he waiting for? Isn’t he just supposed to start swatting my bottom?

“Aren’t you going to spank me?” I asked quietly. Hadn’t Rick ever told him about he and Brittany?

“What?” Adam asked.

“You can spank me,” I said again, this time a bit louder.

“What do you mean, spank you?”

“Like Rick does to Brittany or Jake to Bethany.” Doesn’t he know how embarrassing this is for me.

“What are you talking about?”

Did he really not know? How could he not know? Rick and him are best friend. “Rick spanks Brittany when she is naughty, like I have been towards you.” I could hear him gasp at that revelation. He really didn’t know about their arrangement.

I started to push myself up, off his lap when a hand gently pushed my shoulders back down.

“Hold on there a moment. Help me understand this, Brittany is spanked when she is naughty and now you are jealous?”

“No, I’m not jealous. I…I just want us to be happier, like them.”

“And you think spanking is the key to happiness?”

“No,” I immediately responded, though it felt awful wrong to lie at this moment. “Well….partially. Maybe it is what we are missing.”

“OK, then we will put this to rest right now.” I wish I would have caught the annoyance in his voice, but my stubbornness had become focused on achieving the goal of a spanking. I know, a crazy goal, but can be stubborn to a fault.

The first swat didn’t seem too bad. A light tingling sensation, really. The next few slowly increased to a slight sting, but were far from unbearable.

Maybe it was my lack of response, or Adam was starting to get into it, but the spanks became harder and harder until a strong one surprised a yelp out of me.

Adam paused for a moment, most likely to see if I would complain. I wanted to say it was too hard, but for some reason the harder spank had felt better than the tentative ones. More emotionally freeing than those gentle pats.

The spanks began to rain down again, this time with my unspoken consent, Adam was putting some force behind his hand. Force that I am sure he knew I was feeling. Each spank imparted a crisp sting to my skin, cause me to yelp with most every one.

Soon, I could feel the fire he was building on my bottom. Individual stingy spanks had blended together into a constant fire, much like how my yelps blended into a low continuous sob.

All the emotions I felt over the past day, week, month came flooding back. The snarky comments. The thoughtless actions. The blatant bitchiness. Everything was there, and everything was getting burnt away by the fire Adam was creating. I could have swore my cries of distress where just fueling Adam’s arm, fore every swat seemed stronger, and harder, yet more freeing than the previous.

I plead for forgiveness and the swats kept coming. I promised to be good, and the fire kept building. I begged him to stop, and the flow of tears increased.

At some point all the negative emotions that had been building inside me had flowed out through my tears along with all the energy I had to resist that spanking. And then it was over.

Adam eased me up and wrapped me in his arms while I buried my face into his chest. He felt so warm, not like the hot sun that my bottom currently feels, but like a cozy cabin on a cold winter day. Everything beyond his embrace is just an icy abyss. Within, was his caring, his thoughtfulness, his compassion, all that makes up his love for me. It was so warm and peaceful. Everything was alright.

I do not remember falling asleep, just waking up the next day, still holding my man, though carefully tucked below our covers. The room felt oddly cool at moment, but Adam was nice and warm. I never wanted to let him go. He was mine, and I would be his, forever and ever.

It was nearly noon before we made it out of the bedroom. It felt a little late for breakfast, but we were both hungry. I went for a yogurt cup while Adam went straight for the remaining pumpkin pie. Normally I would chide him for such an unhealthy choice, but this morning it seemed petty of me.

The expression Adam made after his first bite was priceless. It was some crazy mixture of him eating a lemon and bitters. I couldn’t help but laugh at the clearly unpleasant taste.

“Ewe. What did you put in this?”

“Just the normal stuff, pumpkin, spice, cinnamon, condensed milk, nutmeg, eggs.”

“Did you forget the sugar?”

“Hhmmm…” Shit I forgot the sugar. Flipping the yogurt covered spoon over in my mouth, I slowly licked it cleaned while I thought of a response. My normally sharp wit fled my mind like it was on fire. “Nooo, but….”

“But you weren’t thinking or you intentionally sabotaged the pies?” Adam paused for a moment. “Either way, we should deal with this naughtiness right away. The wooden spoon seems appropriate.”

Wooden Spoon!? Where did he get that idea from? I never said anything about a wooden spoon.

Three Ghosts of Halloween, Part III

The story begins with Part I and continues with Part II.

Adam got home right as I was just getting out of the shower. The scamp had the audacity to steal a grope of my bottom while I blow dried my hair. I was having none of it and slapped away his wandering hand.

“The pies smell soo good.” He whispered in my hear from behind my shoulder.

“That’s why I made two, one for the party and one for you.” I smiled at him. “Now if you want me to go to this dumb party, let me get ready!”

“Fine,” He cooed before leaving me in peace. “But why don’t you wear these tonight?” Adam help up a black stitch of cloth behind me in the bedroom.

I glanced in the mirror to see him hold what could only have been my black thong. “Maybe,” I lead him on with. I hated those panties, if you really could call them panties. It had be to be a man who came up with the idea of thongs. They are so incredibly uncomfortable. I’d almost rather go without than wear a thong. Almost. The only reason I had any thongs were Adam buying them for me.

The dress showed a little bit to much thigh for my liking, though Adam liked it enough for the both of us. Even the black full bikini panty, instead of the thong, didn’t damper his giddiness. Men!

Adam ended up taking a half an hour more than me to get ready. He had gotten some wizard costume called Gandolf, or something. It was supposed to be somebody famous, but I’m not sure where it was from. He just looked like an old man with a great white beard, white hat and long white robe. Seemed simple enough to me, so I don’t know why it took him so long to get ready.

We decided to walk the block and half over to the Halloween party because Adam didn’t think there would be parking in near Brittany and Rick’s place. It turned out he was right, cars had filled up most of the streets in our subdivision. By the time we got to their place I was chilled, and annoyed that Adam made me carry the pumpkin pie. He made some cheesy excuse about not being able to carry that stick thingy and the pie. I thought he should just leave it at home, but he disagreed. He at least rang the doorbell when we got there.

Ding, Dong, HA HA HA HA! rang the door bell. A moment later the door open, revealing our the hostess dressed as a cheerleader.

“Welcome!” Brittany exclaimed in her usual cheerful voice before shifting to something between sinister and comical. “To our house of doom.”

“Ooh, spooky,” Adam said, holding up his arms as if in fear. His over excitement of the scary factor earned a solid eye-roll from me.

“Hush you,” Brittany swatted playfully at Adam’s arm. “Let me take that from,” she said taking the pie from me, while Adam, the gentleman I trained him to be, relieved me of my overcoat. “We got all the food, and drink setup in the dinning room,” she said, turning towards the back of the house.

My ears perked up when she said drinks. I may have been a little hungry, but something strong was of a bigger concern at the moment. I left Adam to deal with the jackets, following Brittany to the dinning room. The selection of snacks, desserts and alcohol was quite impressive. All the major liquors were available, though I don’t know how to make anything good, so I settled for glass of Chardonnay.

Adam popped in for a moment to grab a beer and some chips then was quickly sucked away into some sports orientated conversation by Rick and a couple other guys. With the ring of the doorbell, I was left to entertain myself, so I wandered around looking for a someone I knew, and could stand.

The night wore on slowly, like all lame holiday parties. Small talk was rampant with lots of strangers finding social courage from the bottles and glasses in their hands. I moved from one group to another, never really investing too much into any one conversation. All of the discussions were very superficial, and none were very interesting.

It wasn’t long before the wine started to get to me. Not in the I’m drunk kind of way, rather in the need to visit the ladies room kind of way. Unfortunately for me, three other women has similar idea and were congregating around the bathroom door. I bet most of the guests didn’t realize there is one upstairs also.

It turned out that at least one of the guests knew about the upstairs bathroom, since the door was securely closed. With my bladder becoming more persistent in its pleas, I glanced down the stairs before peaking into the master bedroom. Brittany wouldn’t mind me using the master bathroom. We kind of like sisters, distant, but sisters.

The master bathroom door was slightly ajar so I figured it was unoccupied and started going in without knocking when I heard noise coming from inside. “Oh sorry!” I quickly apologized while pulling the door back shut.

“Ouch!” I heard a women’s voice yelp from inside as I was about to latch the door. At first I did not fully recognize the sound, or that it even originated from inside the bathroom. I paused with my hand on the door handle, waiting for some sign that my mind was just playing a trick on me.

“Ouch!” I heard a women’s voice again yelp from inside. “Ouch!” again sounded off the voice. This time I had no doubt the cries were coming from inside.

Out of duty, I flung the door open. The scene I confronted dumbfounded me. A younger, muscular man in a latex batman costume sat on the edge of the bathtub with a bathbrush in his right hand, high in the air and a partially disrobed witch over his lap. Before I had a chance to completely open the door, the bathbrush completed it’s decent onto the witch’s bare hindquarters, eliciting another yelp of pain from her.

The spring of the door stopper immediately shifted their attention to me. Batman left the brush firmly planted against the Witch’s tush as he looked up at me with a slight glare. She, on the other-hand, twisted her head in my direction, her blonde locks parted, giving me a clear view of her blushing cheeks. I recognized her as Bethany, the host’s little sister whom I had been introduced to an hour earlier. That would make batman Jake, her fiance.

“Ah.Ah.Ah,” Bethany tried to verbalize her embarrassment, though her mouth didn’t seem to work at the moment.

“Gloria, we are preoccupied at the moment. Would you be kind enough to close the door and give us some privacy. We should be done shortly,” Jake said with the elegance expected from his costume’s alter-ego.

I was having none of it though. “You asshole, Stop beating her!” I yelled as rushed to help Bethany up.

“Gloria, please, go,” Bethany tried waving me off from the inverted position.

“No, I’ll help you.” I took a hold of the hand waving at me and tried pulling her up.

“You do not understand, she does not need any help.” Jake spoke calmly.

“Shut up and let her up.” I poked my finger into Jake’s chest before trying to help Bethany off his lap.

“Gloria, It’s OK! Please go, NOW!” Bethany all but yelled at me. What the bitch! Here I am trying to help her and the ungrateful kid yells at me to leave? See if I try to help her again. I turned, and slammed the door on them. Bladder be damned, I had to talk to Brittany immediately.

Three Ghosts of Halloween, Part II

The errands took way too long. Two simple errands should have taken only twenty minutes, but two hours later I was walking into the French Cafe straight in the middle of the lunchtime crowd. Waiting 10 minutes did not increase the prospect of securing a table so I just gave up and went home. I would have to resort to eating the leftovers from dinner last night.

As I neared the entrance to our subdivision, two police cruisers and a large blank van flew by with lights and sirens ablaze. Something big was happening to have the SWAT van going. The first thing I did when I got home is to flip on the small TV in the kitchen. Hopefully the news would have a live report on the hostage situation or standoff.

The 12 o’clock news was already in progress, thought the weather forecast was being provided at the moment. I had a moment to toss Adam’s leftover chicken Parmesan in the microwave. He probably wouldn’t care.

“Now, for some breaking news at the courthouse. Allison,” the news anchor said. The words “breaking news” instantly perked my interest.

“I’m here at the courthouse where I just learned the charges against all three ringleaders in last week’s homecoming party fiasco.” The reporter told the audience. “As you will remember, I reported last week about police breaking up a wild party where nearly the entire Jefferson High senior class were detained for underage drinking and trespassing. It appears the farm’s owner and the prosecutor agreed with the parents of the three girls that the two eighteen year olds and the one nineteen year old had been adequately punished and no further action was needed. The judge agreed only after a conference with the girl’s parents, and attorney’s in closed chambers. Here comes one of the fathers right now. Mr. Williams, how do you feel about the judge’s decision that allow your punishment to stand?”

“Her mother and I had a long discussion with our daughter and taught her a tough lesson in responsibility. Luckily the judge and prosecutor agreed that she was contrite and they dropped the charges on my promise of reinforcing that lesson tonight. And I damn well intend to.” The larger, gruff man told the reporter.

“Well good for you. I learned a few painful lessons from my father when I was a young adult and I hope it helps your daughter like it helped me. Janice, back to you in the studio.” The reporter told the news anchor.

“Thank you Allison. It is good to hear that some parents still want to parent and not be their child’s friend. My mother wouldn’t have cared had I been 8, 18 or 28. We probably would have had a similar discussion as those defendants. Too bad more parents don’t think that way anymore. Now on to sports. Jeff.” The pretty blonde anchor told the audience.

I changed the channel once I heard something about the world series. I don’t understand why or how Adam can spend hours watching sports. Maybe another channel would have the story about the police incident.

Ding! Lunch was ready. I grabbed a potholder and scooped up the cardboard container from the microwave. Hmmm, cheesy goodness.

“Now, for some breaking news at the courthouse. Allison,” I heard a female news anchor say behind me. With a fork in hand, I settled back on the counter stool to eat while watching the news.

“I’m here at the courthouse where I just learned the charges against all three ringleaders in last week’s homecoming party fiasco.” The reporter told the audience. She looked really similar to the reporter at the other station. Blonde hair, blue eyes, big boobs and a bright smile seems to be the only qualification needed to be a reporter anymore.

“As you will remember, I reported last week about police breaking up a wild party where nearly the entire Jefferson High senior class were detained for underage drinking and trespassing. It appears the farm’s owner and the prosecutor agreed with the parents of the three girls that the two eighteen year olds and the one nineteen year old had been adequately punished and no further action was needed. The judge agreed only after a conference with the girl’s parents, and attorney’s in closed chambers.”

This seems eerily familiar to the previous report. Even that guy coming up behind her looks familiar.

“Here comes one of the fathers right now. Mr. Williams, how do you feel about the judge’s decision that allow your punishment to stand?” The reporter asked.

“Her mother and I had a long discussion with our daughter and taught her a tough lesson in responsibility.” The large, gruff man stated.

That was exactly what he said last time. Is this the same channel? I pressed the info button on the remote, popping up the channel information onto the screen to confirm I had indeed changed the channel.

“Luckily the judge and prosecutor agreed that she was contrite and they dropped the charges on my promise of reinforcing that lesson tonight. And I damn well intend to.” The father stated.

What the hell? I just watched this report a few minutes ago. Have the local news really gotten that cheap that they are sharing staff? Or is someone trying to play a prank on everyone?

“Well good for you. I learned a few painful lessons from my father when I was a young adult and I hope it helps your daughter like it helped me. Janice, back to you in the studio.” The reporter told the news anchor.

Painful lessons? Is she trying to imply that poor girl was spanked for throwing a party? What brute! And the judge and prosecutor agreed with it? They are supposed to protect the innocent, not help them be victimized. They are just teenagers and they did something dumb. What is new? They don’t have to be beaten for it.

“Thank you Allison. It is good to hear that some parents still want to parent and not be their child’s friend. My mother wouldn’t have cared had I been 8, 18 or 28. We probably would have had a similar discussion as those defendants. Too bad more parents don’t think that way anymore. Now on to sports. Jeff.” The anchor told the audience.

And now the news anchor is supporting it also. Grounding her for a month would have worked just fine. I was never spanked and I turned out fine. Dumb right-wing bible thumping conservatives. Won’t they ever learn. Doubt they will ever learn.

Finishing lunch, I figured I might as well start the pumpkin pie. It’ll take a hour or something to cook and Adam had to have his pumpkin pie or he’d throw a hissy-fit. He can be such a frigging baby sometimes.

I grabbed the canned pumpkin, pumpkin spice, cinnamon, nutmeg, salt, evaporated milk and eggs and started mixing everything in a big bowl. The orange gooey mixture filled two pre-made pie crusts; one for the party and one for Adam. I bet I can use the second one for leverage until Thanksgiving. Oven set at 375F, now I got an hour to relax.

Preemptive apologies

I was re-reading & editing part II of Three Ghosts of Halloween when I realized much of what the narrator thinks is, or could be construed to be, offensive to a reasonable portion of my readership. I would like to apologize preemptively for anything you may find offensive. I have heard most of the comments she thinks from a variety of people over the years. Most of the comments I found at least annoying at the time, if not downright irritating. The messaging though is perfect for the intended character.  Part II will be posted tomorrow with Parts III & IV following next week.

Three Ghosts of Halloween

This is the first of a four part Halloween series which will be published between now and October 30th.

Buzzz Buzzz Buzzz my phone vibrated across the headboard. Shut up! I thought as I whacked it with a pillow. It was my day off so wanted to sleep in goddammit, not get up early and do shit.

I relaxed my shoulders, down through my chest and just started to return to dreamland when my phone started vibrating again. “Grrr…” I growled as I felt around above my head. This better be important, like someone dying or something. I opened my eyes just enough to let the light flood in, and see the screen.

“I love you,” read the top text from Adam. “Ill be home at 6, be ready” followed below. He woke me for that? I nearly threw the phone across the room but the bright light cascading around the drapes convinced me I probably should get up.

I dropped my phone on the bed to stretch the sleep out of my legs and arms. With a yawn I padded off to the bathroom. My return to the bedroom, the blinking red light on my Blackberry indicated another new message. This was too much, especially before I had my morning coffee. Still, out of habit I flicked to my messages on the way to the kitchen to find another text from my husband, “Don’t forget to get your costume or make the pumpkin pie”

Grrrr. I hate Halloween. I don’t know why adults love such a childish holiday, and Adam is probably the worst of them all. Luckily we were only going to one costume party this year, thought it was tonight. He’ll probably make me dress back up for tomorrow evening while we hand out candy.

I paused at the kitchen doorway to text back, “I WONT!” Now, coffee time.

After two cups of coffee, a yogurt and nice hot shower, I figured I should run over to the temporary Halloween shop and grocery store before lunch.

The shop was actually two empty store fronts with part of the adjoining wall knocked down. The left side contained the home decor and men’s costumes while the right side contained the cash registers, women’s and kids costumes. The current state of the store reminded me of toy store the afternoon of Black Friday, or a small town after a tornado. Empty boxes were thrown everywhere. Most of the clothes racks contained empty hangers and random parts of various costumes.

It took me ten minutes to find three complete costumes in anything close to my size; “A Sexy Kitty”, “A Sexy Nurse” and “A Wicked Witch.” The name sexy was just a pseudonym for slutty or scandalous, as in this situation. The nurse costume was basically a ultra short lab coat with a white garter and stockings and a plastic syringe. The kitty was not any better, resembling a leopard print leotard with a pair of matching fur ears and tail. Either would make me feel more like a cheap streetwalker than “sexy.” The witch’s costume was considerably less scandalous, though not something I would wear in public on any day other than Halloween. A short-sleeve black dress with a reasonable amount of cleavage was paired with black pointy hate and a fake mole.

The only problem with the witch’s costume was the package said the dress was a 2, and I am much more of a 4-6 type woman. You know, someone who actually eats, but cares about their figure. Maybe it would fit, but I should try it on before buying it. I would hate having to come pack to this place again.

The only clerk in the store pointed towards the back hallway when I asked about a changing room. She seemed more interested in her iPhone than me, and I didn’t blame her. She had a horrible job.

The hallway leading to the women’s dressing rooms was of the warehouse storage area than a finished hallway. Empty boxes were stacked haphazardly in piles against the walls. It was almost like a cardboard maze to find the dressing room area. Turning the corner I came across two quickly constructed dressing doors. Simple black painted plywood and 2x4s created the walls while plain wooden interior doors formed the doors. Luckily, one of the doors was open, so I wouldn’t have to wait.

I quickly latched the lock behind me and checked to make sure it worked. A little rattling and the door didn’t move. I started removing my top when I heard a women’s voice coming from the other dressing room. “You aren’t going out in that! It’s way too revealing!” I thought I heard over the haunted house music. The music seemed extra loud back here.

“MOM!” a distinctly younger female voice responded, followed by a bunch of stuff I couldn’t’ make out. It seems some girl didn’t like the costume her mother picked out. Well, I don’t really like mine either, learn to deal with it.

I was slipping off my jeans when I heard more noise coming from next door. This time it sounded more like water falling from a leaky faucet than voices. I glanced around the ceiling above the makeshift dressing room to see if I could see a water. Nothing, but the pitter-patter sound continued, getting a little quicker if anything.

I finished removing my jeans and slipped the witch’s dress over my head when I heard voices again coming from next door. This time, it sounded like the girl kept saying yes, roughly in time with the water drops. It was probably my imagination, or some additive chanting to the haunted house sound track.

The dress fit well enough, though it was a little tight and the skirt portion was definitely on the skimpy side. I bet I’d flash my panties if I bent over. Well there wasn’t much I could do about it, since the alternatives were definitely not any more conservatives. Why do they have to make all the women’s costumes so revealing. Even a nun’s typical costume would have been more appropriate in a sex store than a Halloween stop.

I returned the dress to it’s bag and got redressed. I was just starting to open the dressing room door when a young women came scampering out of the other dressing room, taking a kitty costume over to the rack by the door.

She had almost returned to the other dressing room when an older female voice stopped her in her tracks. “Go back and put it properly on the rack young lady!” I hadn’t paid the girl any notice until the mother reprimanded her. At that point I took a good look at her.

“Yes, mom!” The girl said sullenly, noticing me as she turned back towards the rack. Woman would have been a more appropriate term, since she looked to be in her late teens to early twenties. More likely early twenties since it was eleven o’clock in the morning on a Friday when teenagers were normally in school.

She started to blushing when she noticed me. I would have guessed it was from her lack of clothes, being that she only had on a simple nude bra and white nylon panties. The panties caught my attention when she bent over to pick up the discarded costume. Her bottom was a deep red hue, contrasting considerably to her white panties and thighs. Had she just been spanked I asked myself as I left the dressing room area. The watery look in her eyes seemed to reinforce that idea.

The sight in the dressing room haunted me the whole way to the grocery store. It was just on the other side of the shopping center, but still. Why would a mother still spank her adult daughter? Why did the daughter allow it? Did she like it or something? Who in hell would like a spanking? Was it just some sick prank they were pulling on me? All these questions and many more ran through my mind. No matter what the answers, it was wrong to spank anyone, especially an adult child. Someone should bend that old hag over and see how she likes it when she gets her ass beat.

Ding Ding Dong Ding Dang! The ringtone told me Adam was calling even before I fished the phone out of my purse.

“What do you want!” I snapped into the phone.

“I just wanted to see how your day was going and if you got your costume?” Adam responded with a overtly soft voice.

“Yes I got the dumb costume. A witch OK with you?”

“That seems oddly appropriate,” he said.

“Whatever,” mumbled as I rolled my eyes. “Is there anything we need at the grocery store?”

“No, just the stuff to make pumpkin pie.”

Of course we do, that is why I went to the grocery store. “Duh…I meant anything else, like food stuff.”

“You don’t have to be uppity.”

“Uppity? Really? Do you need anything else?”

“Ah, I guess not. Try to have a better day honey, I can’t wait to see you in your costume,” he voice dripping with insincere niceness.

“You bet,” I mumbled to myself before saying “Goodbye” and hanging up the call. He could be such a jerk sometimes. Now where are the baking goods?

Doubly Recycled Meme

I don’t have any stories ready yet, though I’m working on a nice little four-part number for Halloween.

Scanning the other blogs I regularly visit, I noticed this meme on Hermione’s Heart. I am not sure what a meme is but it was created another blogger, Grace, and the questions seemed easy enough.

 

The phone rings. Who do you want it to be?
Boss saying I don’t have to fly across the country gain.

When shopping at the grocery store, do you return your cart?
Depends if they offer those little corral things.

In a social setting, are you more of a talker or a listener?
I prefer the listener, but for some reason that has not been easy to maintain.

Do you take compliments well?
Ah…yea? How are you supposed to take compliments?

Are you an active person?
Only when away on business.

If abandoned alone in the wilderness, do you survive?
Yum, Squirrel!

Did you ever go to camp as a kid?
See above response. BSA taught me well…..well the things we did at BSA camp taught me well.

What was your favorite game as a kid?
Tag. I still remember chasing the older girls around the play ground in elementary school.

A sexy person is pursuing you, but you know that he/she is married, would you?
Pursuing me? Sure…….

Are you judgmental?
Yea, but it makes me good at my job.

Do you like to pursue or be pursued?
It is a dance where everyone must lead at one time another. Allowing another to lead is quite relaxing sometimes.

Use three words to describe yourself.
Creative, intelligent, over-achiever.

If you had to choose, would you rather be deaf or blind?
Deaf. It would get rid of those damn voices in my head.

Are you continuing your education?
Not formally,

Do you know how to shoot a gun?
Yes. See responses about survival and camp.

How often do you read books?
Actual books….a almost never now. There is way too much to read on the internet to fuss with books.

Do you think more about the past, present or future?
Future during the day, present in the evening, past at night.

What is your favorite children’s book?
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.  I wanted to be Willy Wonka as a kid because he was a genius.

Where is your ideal house located?
Cabin on the Maine coast.

Boxers, briefs, thongs, panties or grannies?
Briefs. It’s just annoying when the boys are floating around without getting any exercise.

Last person you talked to?
Co-worker.

Have you ever taken pictures in a photo booth?
Nope.

What are your keys on your keychain for?
House, car and office.

Where was the furthest place you traveled today?
Work and back home.

Where is your current pain?
“My brain hurts from trying to come up with answers for this meme.” – Hermione’s answer which I agree with wholeheartedly.

Do you like mustard?
No.

Do you prefer to sleep or eat?
Sleep. Never been much of a foodie.

Do you look like your mom or dad?
Dad

How long does it take you in the shower?
Depends who else is joining me.

What movie do you want to see right now?
Iron Man 3. Missed it when it was in the theaters

What did you do for New Year’s?
Went to a work party. It was kinda of like Christmas and New Years combined.

What was the cause of your last accident?
Accidents? What are accidents? 🙂

Jacuzzis at Josei no Kiritsu

The story begins with Welcome to Josei no Kiritsu Spa and Dojo. I recommend you read that story first.

Taking Kaori advice to have a long soak in the jacuzzis only served to create more mixed emotions for Monica.

The Baths stood stark contrast to the dark wood of the locker room and Dojos. White Italian marble formed the core of every surface, coating the floor, walls and ceiling, as well as forming the structure of the 30 personal baths and the two community pools. Black and golden marble inlays accented the steps, the benches and the tops of the ionic columns circling the community pools. As Monica took in the architecture elegance she imagined this is what Roman Senators had enjoyed two millennium earlier.

What she witnessed in the Baths caused some most troubling yet liberating feelings. Being a bathhouse, she expected many of the occupants to be nude. She even half expected to see some signs of intimate contact. A couple of the personal tubs were shared by two women facing each other, though the enormous size of the tubs didn’t make this seem too strange.

Monica knew very well that expressions can tell one’s underlying emotional state. The slightly parted lips curved upwards into a gentle smile and softly closed eyes portrayed a state of extreme relaxation. Slow, heavy breathing coupled with the white knuckle grip spoke to a less innocent state.

“Ease in slowly, the hot water may sting a little,” Kaori advised when they reached the free tubs near the back.

“Sting a little?” Monica thought to herself when her hips reached the hot water. It was like throwing gasoline on the embers which where smoldering down there. She looked in Kaori’s direction to find the Asian lady all the way fully submerged. Well if she can do it so can I. With a deep breath of encouragement, her legs buckled allowing her to sink to her shoulders.

“Like putting warm water on a burn. Hurts for a moment then quickly passes.”

“I guess…” For Monica the fire had only started to weaken and spread its presence throughout her pelvic region. The cuts of the cane smarted, preventing her from fully resting down into the seat.

“Now for good part.” Kaori leaned over the edge of her tub and flicked a few buttons on the console next to Monica’s.

Monica flinched at the first pulse of hot water. Small jets of water started shooting at her back, pulsating down her spine in a wave. Washed way level upon level of tension which had been building since her run in with Sensei Hirsha. Soon, she even forgot about the smarting of the tramlines and settled fully into the tub’s contoured lounge seat. A second set of jets starting working their way from mid-thigh all the way down to her toes.

“Wow,” Monica moaned. This was better than most massages she had gotten back in New York.

Kaori snickered lightly before correcting her new friend, “You haven’t felt wow yet, but is should start soon.”

Right on cue the lower set of jets sprung to life eliciting a yelp from their target. The jets pulsating her back and legs died down to a low pressure as a new set of jets started to spray up between her legs. One small jet seemed to aim at her clit while a larger flow of water shot at her pussy.

Monica started to push herself up out of the tub and away from the invasive water jets when Kaori cut her off. “Relax and let them do their work. It’s just like a removable shower head.”

Monica blushed at the obvious reference to self pleasure. “How did this woman know she did that?” she questioned herself as she settled back into the tub. She tried to resist the primal urges building deep down for as long as possible. She wasn’t like them. She couldn’t do that here in front of everyone. However, in the end resistance was futile and the jets did their job with ruthless proficiency.

Monica spent the next two hours on the top of cloud nine. The sun looked brighter, the birds prettier, even the health conscious salad tasted splendid. Life was wonderful.

The chipper attitude followed her from lunch back to her room and the quick change into her tennis jumper. She’d brought a white and pink number made from a polyester/spandex blend. She loved the material, because of its soft, silkiness texture coupled with its elasticity made any piece of athletic wear a comfortable yet sexy outfit. It was even hydrophobic, preventing sweat spots in any color. She gave a whrill before the mirror closet doors to make sure the pleaded skirt lay properly before heading down to the tennis courts.

“Welcome ladies to this week’s tennis series. Each day you will play a single, six game set. Winning doubles will progress to the next level while the losing team going to the consolatory bracket to play for standing. Standard women’s open rules apply, with total differential penalty. Any questions?”

Monica didn’t pay as much attention to what was being said, as who was listening. She knew she was good at tennis, having played on her college varsity team, but a few of women looked like they had spent time ranked by WTA. Pro was a level she never really could reach in her heyday.

“Teams are posted at the entrance and by each scoreboard. When matches are complete, come speak with me to sign your score cards. I have nothing else, so good luck and may the best team win.”

Monica continuing to check-out her competition as she followed half of the group over to the standings board by the entrance to the courts. The group started to peel off once the players found their court number, eventually leaving Monica alone at the board. A couple games had already started when Monica found court number 4.

“Hi, I’m Rachel,” a blonde woman roughly Monica’s age held out her hand after shifting her racket to her left hand.

“Hello, I’m your teammate, Monica,” Monica took her teammate’s hand cheerfully. Rachel looked a little lanky and thin to be any good at sports, thought her opponents didn’t appear any more formidable.

“So, have you played before?” Rachel asked, dribbling a tennis ball.

“Yea, I played in college,” Monica answered. “You?”

“Good. I played in college also. Last time I played in this tournament I was matched with a complete novice. We were lucky to get past the first round.”

“Well, I won’t be happy unless we win it all,” Monica smiled broadly.

The first game did not go as well as Monica and Rachel would have liked, though they did win after having the play 4 game points. The second game they lost by two points. After the lost, their play settled down and they began to dominate their more inexperienced opponents, winning games by 60-love and 60-15.

“That’s set.” Monica announced when the shot went long, bouncing off the rear fence. “Good game.”

“You owe us 28 points!” Rachel proclaimed.

“Double down?” the brunette opponent asked.

“Sure,” Rachel responded, without even consulting with Monica.

Monica was quite lost. What did blackjack have to do with winning a tennis set? She had never heard of doubling down in anything other than cards. She didn’t really want to play another set right now. She followed her teammate over to the court-side benches, hoping someone would let her in on what was going on.

The two opponents both slipped a pair of thumbs up their skirts and wiggled their white panties down to their knees. Then, as if it was choreographed, they bent forward and placed their hands on the wooden bench, offering their bare behinds towards the court.

Rachel glanced at Monica, to ask which one she wanted, but her teammate’s puzzled look signed some explaining was needed first. “Come on, this is the best part. We won by 28 a total of points so we get to give them 28 swats with their racket or shoe. The double down thing means each swat with their panties down counts double. So its only 14, but still fun.”

“Ah…ok.” Monica wasn’t quite sure what to think, but she was definitely glad she wasn’t on the losing end.

“Shoe,” Rachel’s opponent bent her right knee, bring her shoe into Rachel’s reach. She slipped the shoe up, off her opponent, leaving her in only a single tennis shoe.

“Ah…shoe?” Monica asked and was similarly presented with a right foot and followed Rachel’s lead.

“OK, count good and loud!” Rachel told her opponent before laying rubber on flesh.

WHACK! “One!” WHACK! “Two!” Rachel whacked away on the brunette’s bottom.

Monica watched Rachel for a moment, then brought the shoe down onto her target. Whack! “One!” The spank was half-hearted at best.

“Wo wo wo,” Rachel stopped Monica. “Those aren’t spanks, their love taps.” She rounded her teammate to stand directly behind th blonde opponent. “You need to swing the shoe like it’s a tennis racket. Put some umph in it. Let her know your disappointed in her performance and is getting some motivation for next time.”

“Ah, ok.” Monica said hesitantly. She stepped a little bit back and to her left then took a solid grip around the heal section of the shoe. Bringing shoe high over her head, she whipped it down like she was serving.

WHACK! “Ahhhhhheeee!” The blonde squealed as the sole left a red and white treads on her bottom. “Owe owe…ah..four.”

“Much better,” Rachel congratulated. “Ten more like that should provide some nice motivation.”

Monica applied the shoe in slow focused strikes, earning a squeal from the blonde with each one. Nearing the end, she missed her target, landing the tennis shoe high on the thigh.

WHACK “Aahhhhheeeesssskkksss!” The blonde jumped up and grasped her bottom as she danced in a circle. Monica covered her mouth as she chuckled at the grown woman hopping around frantically while rubbing her bottom. The blonde’s antics caught the attention of Rachel and the brunette opponent, who paused to watch.

“Girl, I think you got spanking down pat.” Rachel complimented. “Now you still owe me two more,” she told the bent over brunette, gently tapping her the small of her back.

“Grrr,” the brunette growled.

Rachel didn’t want to be out done by her novice teammate, delivering two of the hardest swats she could muster. Neither producing the spectacle of her blonde, though the associated sting was verbally acknowledged.

“So, how do you like being on the top end?” Rachel asked Monica as the two walked back to their rooms.

“Ah..ok?” Monica stumbled to find an answer. She really wasn’t quite sure what to think about the day’s events. She didn’t really like the canning this morning, but the experience in the jacuzzi afterwards made it all better. Now, having spanked another person, another woman at that, she experienced some of the mixed emotions associated with inflicting such a punishment. It had been exciting even though she commiserated with the blonde, and the obvious pain she had inflicted.

“Ah, dishing it out is the best part. It’s so much better than having your own hide tanned.”

“True.”