Round one comes to a close – Spanket

This is part of the Spanket series of short stories. The series begins with Joining the Competition.

March 22nd 1:06 AM

Nate was none to happy to get the call at 1 am asking to come pick up his wife. He could tell from her slurred speech on the phone that she had more than a couple drinks this evening, and was at least thankful she called rather than attempted to drive home. Diane only lived a mile away, but there were a few things he considered an absolute no-no.

“Nate, why are you heeear?” Julie exclaimed, opening the front door.

“Ah, I’m here to pick up Jessie.”

“Jessie? Jessie who?” Julie asked, taking half a step back from the door. The glass of pink ice came into view as Nate took half a step into the house.

“My wife,” Nate answered, motioning to his wife sitting on the couch.

“Oh MISS ARIZONA!” Julie squealed, scampering over to the couch. At the name Arizona all the other ladies cheered “Miss Arizona” and Jessie proceeded to finish the remaining 2 shots of blue slush in her glass.

Nate was half a sleep and could already feel a headache coming on. Were they really playing a drinking game based upon team names? He thought there was going to be “adult” supervision tonight. “Where is Jack and the kids?” Nate asked, entering the living room.

“Oh they are at sleepovers and he’s out with the guys,” Diane said, briefly giving Nate her attention before shifting back to the TV.

“Oh Jack, you left them alone with liquor, how foolish!” Nate mumbled to himself as he rubbed his left temple. The hope of grabbing Jessie and going home was quickly dying. “Jessie, you ready to go?” he had to ask twice before getting any response.

Jessie jumped to her feet. “Yup! I’m reeeddy for deploooment!” Jessie thought she was mimicking a soldier, standing at attention, but was swaying so much Nate worried she’d fall over. He didn’t even want to know why she was mimicking a soldier, so long as he got her out the door quickly.

“Come on, lets go home,” Nate said, waving her towards the door. The other ladies whined that he was spoiling their fun, but she said her goodbyes and followed him out to the car.

“Did you know Alice was a virgin until she was twenty one and lost it on her birthday and….” Nate tried to tune out his wife’s rambling. Years ago he learned it was bad idea to listen to her ramblings as she was starting to sober up.

Nate just nodded his head the whole 5 minute drive home and helping her out of the car and into the house.

“Straight to bed when we get home. We can talk about this in the morning,” Nate told her once he locked the house door.

“Yeaaaas, siirrr,” Jessie said, trying to give him big puppy-dog eyes.

—–

Nate considered giving Jessie’s bottom a workout in the morning, but finding her in the bathroom when we woke up changed his mind. He knew she hadn’t had a hangover in years, and this one was in full force. The fact that she hadn’t actually broke any of their rules, and had already planned a full day seemed like punishment enough. It might have been a little mean, but he actually enjoyed the prospect of changing the oil in Jessie’s car and repairing a couple things around the house while she went grocery shopping and stopped by her mothers.

Facing the Competition – Spanket

This is part of the Spanket series of short missives. The first part can be found at Joining the Competition. Spanket revolves around a friendly wager placed upon the NCAA tournament. You can find the participant’s brackets on the Spanket page.

March 21, 5:12 pm

Jessie woke up to find an email from Diane.

“Ladies,

With one day of games in the books, we already starting to see some separation between the brackets.

Bringing up the rear is Alice with 8 pts. She is followed by Julie with 9 pts. We have a tie between Jessie and Rebecca for third at 10 pts each. Ethel is in second with 12 pts and I led you all at 13 pts.

How do pizza and drinks at my place sound after work tonight?

Looking forward to reddening you bottoms,
Diane”

Her third place standing laced her with nervous energy throughout the day. She had rushed through her morning routine and got to work half an hour early. The early arriva1, gave her a few minutes to study her situation. The small screen of her phone made it challenging to sell the whole bracket at a time, but the special app helped some. She hadn’t taken any real hits during the first day and she was hesitantly confident for the second day.

Her day was better than yesterday, partially because every 15 minutes she could check the scores on her phone, and mainly because she could see her teams were winning. Worrying about their performance was worst than knowing they lost.

Quitting time came early again for Jessie. She rationalized coming in early meant she could leave early, and with her boss no where to be found, she took off for Diane’s place. Even with stopping by the supermarket to get some wine coolers, she ended up following Diane through the subdivision. Julie arrived a couple minutes later, then the other three showed up over the next hour.

“Oooh, I going to thoroughly enjoy that succulent tush under my hand,” Ethel said, dragging her finger tips across the back of Julie’s jeans poking out above the bar stool.

“Hey,” Julie protested.

“You gotta win to have that pleasure, and second place isn’t winning,” Diane shot back as the older woman took an empty stool at the counter.

“Ah, I betting this one will need to make up some points come Monday and I’ll be more than willing to help her out,” Ethel grinned at Julie, causing her to blush and look away. Julie knew she was right, did not want to admit it.

“So what is trade points thing?” Jessie asked.

“After the first weekend you can trade points in exchange for swats. What don’t you understand?” Diane stated as a mater of fact.

“Why would you want to do that?” Jessie asked, still puzzled with concept.

“Because you want to spank Julie,” Ethel smirked, “why else?”

“Hey,” Julie protested again at being their target.

“Oh com’on girl, you know your going to get it,” Ethel told her.

“But it won’t be from you, I’d rather Jessie do it,” Julie responded.

“OK, but if I trade points, then I’d loose at the end,” Jessie said, still oblivious to the mathematics of the competition.

“No, if you have a good bracket, you are going to score more points for each win in the later rounds which makes up for the few points you sacrificed in the early rounds,” Diane explained.

“Oh….” Jessie replied as the other women could see the light bulb going on inside her mind. The possibility of getting spanked more than once had never crossed her mind. She had always thought of it as a single event, by one of the other women. Now there was the possibility she might have to go over multiple laps? Or, heaven forbid, the others going over her lap? She still wasn’t sure what she was more scared of, being spanked or giving a spanking. She at least had experience at the former.

Let the games begin – Spanket

This is part of the Spanket series of stories. The series begins with Joining the Competition.

March 20th 3:42pm

Thursday was one of those days where five o’clock could not come fast enough for Jessie. She had been running late this morning, which lead her to get stuck in traffic on the way to work and basically start the day behind. It was nearly eleven before she got a chance to leave her desk and take a bathroom break.

Sitting in the stall, Jessie fished her phone out of her purse and immediately went to the bracket site. Instead of being greeted with a nice mobile version, she was informed she needed to download the mobile app in order to access to fantasy sports, which included the tourney. Downloading the app required WiFi access, which meant she’d have to wait until she got home. She grumbled the whole way back to her desk, thoroughly annoyed at the lack of information.

The next four hours were nerve-wrecking. She had a lunch meeting, which met she didn’t get to leave for lunch, but at least would get to go home early. She kept thinking through all the possibilities of what might happen. In particular, her mind focused on the simplest unknowns; the other women’s brackets and how well hers had performed so far.

The work day was finally nearing its conclusion, and Jessie was more than ready to leave. She had already cleaned her desk twice and just had Outlook open on her computer to appear like she was still working. Twenty minutes and she would be in her car heading home. Eighteen minutes and she could shut down her workstation. “Seventeen minutes and thirty seconds, twenty nine seconds, twenty eight…” she mumbled to herself watching the clock app count down the time.

“Hey Jessie, you got a moment?” she heard coming from her cubicle’s door behind her.

“The bitch!” Jessie thought. She was a really nice lady, and a great boss, but today she just drove Jessie crazy. This was the third time her boss had interrupted her attempt at a break today. First, right as she was going on her normal morning coffee break, then sucking her into the lunch meeting and now, minutes before she was about to leave. It was probably going to be about fixing some project the interns had screwed up and she’d be lucky to leave before 6.

Jessie spun around to face the older woman, asking “Ah, what do you need?”, as politely as her irritation allowed.

“Do you have the Henderson account documents?”

“Ah, yea they are right here,” Jessie fished out the folder from her outbox and handed it over.

“Good good good. Can you go drop these by their office? They need to get them before the end of the day.”

“Ah ok,” Jessie responded with a smile. Their office was around the corner from her house. She’d get home earlier and score some brownie points with her boss. Win-Win!

“Thanks, I’ll see you in the morning.”

——–

“Honey?” Nate asked, walking into the living room. His wife was sitting on the couch, a blanket wrapped around her, staring at the TV. Her laptop was setting on the coffee table, open to ESPN while a basketball game played on the TV, neither of which he had ever known his wife to be interested in. He was not one to look a gift house in the mouth, and instead of questioning her interest, he slide in next to her on the couch. “So who’s winning?” he asked rhetorically.

“Oh, Michigan state is crushing them. Can you believe it! Dayton beat Ohio state! Good thing I didn’t bet on them going far.” Jessie said reaching for the laptop.

“Bet on them” Nate thought to himself. She must have joined some office bracket pool and had $10 or something ridding on her bracket. His wife had this deep competitive streak to her, that once challenged, she could not let things go until she won. She would get tunnel vision, focusing on the goal. He had occasionally used it to his advantage over the years, but it normally caused more headaches than anything else.

Nate cooked a frozen pizza for them then kicked up his heals and relaxed next to his wife. At evening faded into night, early games were replaced by later games and Nate’s eyes slowly got heavier and heavier. He didn’t even notice dozing off until a shrill yell pierced his dreams.

“What!” Nate said, waking with a start.

“NC state just gave away the damn game!” Jessie responded, leaning forward to be a little closer to the TV.

“What? What time is it?” Nate mumbled once he realized that he was the most imminent danger to his wife. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, the clock on the cable box came into view, reading 9:43. “Com’on lets go to bed,” he mumbled, getting up.

“Go ahead, there’s 2 more games,” she waved at him without even looking.

“No, lets go to bed. It’s late and we both got work in the morning,” he said, rounding the back of the couch.

“I’m fine, I’ll be up later.”

Nate paused behind his wife and leaned over the back of the couch, whispering in her hear, “is someone being naughty?”

Jessie knew exactly what he was saying and there was only one acceptable response. Back when their relationship had been young, she regularly used “I’m feeling naughty” as code for wanting sex. Now, the slight variation had turned into their code phrase for getting her bum warmed. Her competitive side put up a fight in her mind, but self-preservation won out.

“No,” she said with a little pout. Turning off the TV, she followed him to the bedroom, carefully keeping him in front of her, less she give him a reason to go through with his veiled threat.

Completing her teams – Spanket

This is part of the Spanket series of brief stories beginning with Joining the Competition.

March 17th, 7:46pm

It took Jessie only twelve minutes to regret sending the email. At first she tried retrieving it, looking everywhere for such an option, but coming up blank. Next she contemplated sending another email saying the first one was just a joke. She got as far as the greeting when the words stopped flowing. How do you tell your friends you are too chicken to make a friendly bet? It wasn’t like they were risking any less than herself. Knowing a couple of the women’s sports aptitude, they were risking more than her. She had seen them all get it, why should she be any different?

———-

March 18th, 5:58 pm

The first thing Jessie did after walking in the door was to turn on her laptop and check her email. It had been bothering her all day at work. Now that she was committed, she wanted to get it started. She wanted to fill out her bracket and see what the other ladies choose and somehow estimate her odds. Bad odds and she would prepare for the worst situation, being bent over and being lite up. And if her goods were good she would prepare for the even worst situation, bending over one of the other ladies and spanking them.

She had logged in a couple of times with her phone while she was on lunch, but hadn’t receive a response yet. Just the common spam; Facebook updates, Twitter messages and newsletters. The account came up and revealed more unread messages, though they were all of the spam variety. She clicked inbox a couple of times to make sure she had the latest messages, but nothing new appeared. Twisting her lips into a pout, she closed the laptop and went off to the kitchen to start dinner.

9:48 pm

Jessie reach over to the night stand grabbed her phone. Nate was laying behind her, so she had to hide the screen if she was going to check her email again. He had gotten upset

“Honey, put your phone away.” Nate mumbled.

Jessie grumbled a little as she closed out the email app. He watched TV at night, but I couldn’t check my phone, how unfair! They both gave off light, even if the TV was dimmer and all the way across the room. The seeming hippocracy of Nate’s statement annoyed her enough to partially ignore him. She click on her Pinterest app and started looking at the latest pinned items.

“Do I need to follow through on my promise last night?” Nate ask, rolling over to face her back.

“No,” Jessie relented and returned her phone to the night stand. Her phone wasn’t important enough for that to happened, especially this late at night when she had to work in the morning.

—————-

March 19th, 8:12pm

Jessie logged in to her email account and the first thing she saw was the reply from Diane. It opened with a welcome to this year’s participants, then a link to the bracket and then a bunch more text. She ignored the rest of the email and immediately clicked on the link. The link lead to a sports site, where she logged in with her email address.

The interactive bracket was a simple affair; click on a name and that team gets promoted to the next round or click on the help button and see stats about the two competing teams. Some choices were easy, like her Alma Matter winning it all. Some were more challenging, like Colorado or Pitt and who were the number 12 seeds which would upset number 5s?

It took her half an hour, but she finally had her bracket complete. She worried about a couple of her early picks, but all in all she was satisfied. She should do well, but how well? With a click of “save” she was now fully committed.

Closing out the tab containing the bracket revealed her email account and the still open message from Diane. The rest of the email explained the exact rules for this year, and detailed out the rewards and consequences. Jessie had known the jest of the rewards and consequences, but the exact details where a little more imposing.

“The rules for this year’s competition will be as follows:

  1.  Each correct prediction will receive points equal to the number of games in that round divided by 32. This equals 1 point for round 2, 2 points for round 3, 4 points for the sweet sixteen and so on. There is a total of 192 points.
  2.  At the end of the tournament, the lady with the most points will get to give each other player one swat per point she score more than the losing player.
  3. After each weekend players may switch scores in exchange for the lower scoring lady being spanked. These intermediate spankings are at 2 swats per point difference.
  4. All spankings are to be on the bare-bottom spank with her bare hand.
  5. Any lady receiving a spanking may negotiate for less total swats by substituting an implement for the bare hand.
  6. All brackets must be submitting by midnight, march 19th otherwise you will automatically recieve a score of zero.

Good luck and may you all do worst that me! 🙂

Diane”

The possibility of being spanked seemed more ominous now. Everyone but the top bracket would get at least a couple swats. And what was this about switching scores? Why would she ever want to switch scores with another player? Lucky for Jessie, Nate called and distracted her from the questions which were starting to build.

Joining the Competition

I am trying something new over the next three weeks; a series of short parts to a single story based upon the current event. I have no idea where this is going (and if I did, I would be billionaire in 3 weeks 🙂 ).  I’m going to try posting about three times a week, updating the events experienced by the characters as they occur in real time. I hope you enjoy and that I can keep up.

April 12th, 6:02 pm

TICK Tock! The antique grandfather clocked counted out the minutes as she waited. The hardwood paneling accentuated the mechanical rhythm, refocusing her attention to the issue at hand. She had eagerly took the gamble but now, being on the losing end, she rethought her eagerness a month ago. Her foolish pride was going to cost her, and cost her dearly.

The hard wood paneling, the imposing oak desk, the high back chair, it all reminded her the headmistress’ office back at her prep school. Back then she had only ever been in the office for student government meetings. She was glad she never graced that office for a failing, though such experience would have helped her nerves right now. Or maybe knowing would have made it worst.

The creak of the large wooden door behind her startled into a stiff, upright posture. Her heart shifted to high, trying to beet its escape from her chest. “Time to meet my maker,” she mumbled to herself as the other woman strode confidently up to the desk.

—————————-

March 17th, 7:34pm

Jessie pondered her response to the email. It was a tempting offer, and one she believed she could handily win. Her alumni mater was a number one seed. She would do fine in the competition, it was the consequences and rewards which caused her pause. Nate and her had joined the society to add a little spice to their romance, but they hadn’t really participated beyond observing others. Nonetheless, the other women had accepted her as one of their own from the first meeting. She had quickly became comfortable talking about anything with them, even if she was too shy to do anything yet.

There was the other fact that no one but Nate had touched her. The couples competitions was completely out of the question, but the girl’s competition was a possibility. Nate wouldn’t have a problem with one of the women touching her on the rare chance that she lost. She actually was curious as to such a situation. The problem would be claiming her reward. She had never been on that end of the equation and was concerned if she could actually do it.

Jessie replied to the email saying she would participate before she could chicken out. The success of her bracket this year now had an extra stake, her bum.

Texting cometh before the spanking

“So Mom, did you guys win!” Becky asked her parents immediately upon their arrival home from court.

“Yes dear. The company is going to cover your father’s medical costs and we were awarded a hundred thousand for his lost wages.”

“YES! YES! YES! The bastards deserve to pay!” the girl cheered as she preformed a little dance around the living room.

“Becky, you can’t tell anyone about it though. There’s a confidentiality agreement preventing us from saying anything,” her father said as he moved slowly towards the couch. The non-opiate pain killers he was taking since the last surgery made him drowsy most of the time. The doctor had told him these pain killers were better than the hydrocodeine derived pills, since they were not as physically addictive.

“Oh, I won’t Daddy,” Becky said, before taking off upstairs to her room.

“UR rents are paying? OMG!” Cindy messaged Becky.

“Ya, dad won suit against his old job and now they R rich,” Becky messaged.

“U lucky biatch!” Cindy responded. “How much?”

“like 100k” Becky messaged.

“Damn.”

“Yea, McGarretts paying for Europe!”

“EV1 will be jealous!!!!” Cindy messaged.

Becky smiled at the message. Cindy was one of the two friends could scrape together enough money to make the summer trip across Europe. All the rest of her friends at college had to work all summer, just to be able to pay for food and books during their term. The news that she was basically vacationing in Europe on someone else’s money would kill them, especially her rival, Tricia. She just had to make sure everyone knew.

She made a few flicks of her finger across the iPhone screen then typed “Rent’s won case so now going to Europe on McGarrett’s dime! HA!” into the status message box and hit post. Instantly, her 1,427 followers received the tweet.

“You Biatch! I saw UR tweet!” Cindy messaged a couple of moments later.

“Good! Hope Tricia sees it 2!” Becky responded.

“Shes goin die!”

—-

Becky ran down the stairs at the sound of the doorbell. Her new hiking boots were supposed to be arriving from Amazon today and couldn’t wait to try them on. Opening the door she say the oddest looking delivery man ever. The man standing on the porch was in his mid-thirties and wore a sports jacket over jeans instead of the typical uniform.

“Is this the residence of Christopher Jones?” the man at the door asked.

“Yea, why?” Becky responded with a bit of lip, annoyed he wasn’t there to deliver her boots.

“May I speak with him,” the man said politely. “I have a deliver for Mr. Jones.”

“I’m Chris Jones,” Becky’s father said, coming up behind her. “What is this about?”

The man pulled out thick white envelope and handed it to her father before saying, “you have been served.” The man then turned and walked down the sidewalk to his car.

“What’s that?” Becky asked her father.

Chris tore open the envelope while balancing on his crutches. He quickly scanned the top page of the enclosed papers. “Ah, I am being sued for breach of contract by McGarrett Industries,” he said rather puzzled. He hadn’t had any contact with his former employer since the lawsuit ended 8 months ago. How could he have breached some contract when he didn’t work for them any longer?

—-

“… Mr. Jones, that does not negate the fact that you disclosed the terms of the settlement to a third-party.”

“But Becky is my daughter and it wasn’t intentional!” Chris pleaded with the well dress attorney across the table from him.

James Fastner gently waved his hand in the direction of his senior corporate counsel, silencing the response from the older man to his left. “Mr. Jones, other than the money you intended on spending on your daughter’s study abroad trip, do you have any of the settlement left?”

“Just a little bit. We used most of it to pay off debt and our house so that we could get by on my wife’s salary.” Chris conceded. It wasn’t probably a smart negotiating tactic, though coming to McGarrett without a lawyer wasn’t smart either.

“And did you feel the original settlement was fair?”

“Yes, it was very generous sir.” Chris answered.

“And do you agree that your daughter broke the terms of the settlement and therefore she should be punished?” Mr Fastner asked.

“Ah,” Chris stumbled with the answer. They had clear-cut proof of his daughter breaking the confidentiality agreement, though the CEO’s tone was laced with empathy. “yes sir.”

“Fine. I will withdrawal the suit if your daughter is punished adequately for her utter lack of respect and complete disregard for rules.”

“Oh, thank you sir!” Chris said.

“Thank you,” Becky’s mother added, reaching for Mr. Fastner’s hand.

“She is definitely not going to Europe, and she’ll work here all summer as unpaid intern, and” Chris started making promises on behalf of his daughter who was still more interested in her phone than the conversation occurring in front of her.

“Ah, no that will not be necessary. We are a manufacturing company and I doubt your daughter has even basic skills that could be put to use here. No, she should still study abroad. That is an education unlike anything you can receive in the states. I think your daughter needs a more old fashioned lesson. Something that will break through her self-entitled brat persona.”

“What, she is not” Becky’s mom started to protest, though Mr. Fastner simply nodded towards the girl on her mother’s left.

“When was the last time you lighted a fire in her behind?” Mr. Fastner asked.

“We push our daughter to excel in her classes all the time.” Mrs. Jones answered.

“No, I do not push her,” James paused to make sure he had their full attention. “I mean spank her.”

“WHAT!” Mrs Jones cried out indignation. Becky’s mother started to stand up as stammered, “I…we…HOW DARE YOU!” She felt she had to say something, but she just could not come up with the words.

Chris looked down towards the table while lightly rubbing above his brow.

“Honey, sit down.” The tone of Chris’ voice surprised his wife into obedience more than anything else.

“Mr. Fastner, what do you believe would be an adequate punishment for Becky’s actions?”

“If she was my daughter, I’d have taken a strap to her bottom and made sure she understood the gravity of the situation.”

Chris thought back to his childhood and the few trips he’d taken with his father out to the woodshed. Back then was a different time, but the lessons still resonated with him today. Doing such to his own princess would kill him, but it was probably for the best. They certainty could not repay the money and maybe she would learn something. “Fair enough, I will do it this evening.”

“Mr. Jones, I believe you are an honorable man, and will attempt to follow through with your word. I, however, do not have such faith in your wife and daughter that such punishment will be completed.” James glanced at his watch to verify the timing of the events running through his head. “After we get done here, you and your wife will take your daughter home and do what ever you fell appropriate. At 7:00 pm this evening I will come by and witness you spanking of her. Does that sound reasonable?”

Chris let out a long sigh before saying “Yes.”

“Do you have an old belt or some other piece of leather which work as a strap?”

“Yes, I have something in mind.”

“Good, then I hope our problem will be resolved this evening.” James stood up and walked out of the conference room without saying another word. Mr and Mrs Jones stole a tepid look at each other as their daughter continued playing with her phone, completely unaware of the deal her parents had just struck.

Becky paced her room as the anxiety overwhelmed her. Her mind was a mess of the questions, anxiety and outright fears. She thought about the ridiculousness of the whole situation and how stupid she was by blabbing to Cindy about the settlement. Cindy had the biggest mouth of all her friends, and she knew telling her would quickly lap her entire circle. And it had been great to see the look on Tricia’s face the next day. Her frenemy hadn’t been able to look at her since then. It had been awesome.

But was it worth it? Would getting spanked be worth making Tricia insane with jealously?

“Daddy won’t let that evil man hurt me,” Becky told herself as she looked in the mirror. She practice making puppy-dog eyes and acting as innocent as possible.

—-

Mr. Fastner stood at the door holding a black leather attache case. He could feel his nerves start to get to him as he waited. The tension had been building since the Jones had left his office this afternoon. Numerous times he had to remind himself this was the right thing to do, even if not most legal option to the situation. The naive girl would learn a valuable lesson and that is more important than the money he had told his general counsel, president and himself.

Chris opened the door and ushered Mr. Fastner inside. James felt a current of electricity flowing through the small living room. It took him back two decades, when he was in his first managerial position, walking into the small dank conference room where two well seasoned  line workers sat waiting for him. It was the first time he had ever fired an employee, and probably one of the hardest tasks he had ever done in business. Both men had more years at the company than he had had on earth, but it didn’t change the fact they were caught clocking out for one another and the company had cut staff by 10 percent or risk bankruptcy. Looking back, Mr. Fastner found the situation ironic, since two years later he lead the effort to put the same company into Chapter 11 and now used it as the cornerstone of his small empire.

Mr. Fastner placed his brief case on his lap and flicked the latches allowing the top to spring open. He looked inside, glanced up at the three Jones’ sitting on the couch then back into the case. Reaching under the top folder, he withdrew the second folder of legal documents. “He are the terms by which the lawsuit will be dropped against you for breach of contract.” He handed the folder across the coffee table to Chris and paused to give the father a moment to start reading the cover page. “In there, it explains that Becky has been punished for breaking the confidentiality agreement and that she will put any funds that she gets because of the settlement to good use in making her a good and productive member of society. Please read through it and there is a spot for all three of you to initial at the bottom of each page and to sign at the end.”

James sat back as watched Chris read through the first page before handing it to his wife. The entire agreement was a mere six pages, unusually short for one of his contracts. His attorney did not think any such agreement would hold up in court, so the length was merely to impart some fear into the Jones than actually create a legally binding agreement.

“Now, Mr. Jones, the settlement was 88 thousand, correct?” James asked once Chris passed the last page to his wife.

“Yes, sir. Well plus the medical costs.” Chris answered.

“OK, then it seems only fair she receives 88 swats with the belt. One swat per thousand dollars,” James said with a deadpan expression. He had given Becky’s punishment some thought after the Jones had left this afternoon, and believed he had come up with a fair punishment which would make a strong impact on the self-entitled girl. A skilled negotiator, this opening request was intended to create a particular reaction from each member of the Jones family.

“WHAT!” Becky cried out. “88! That is totally unfair!” She stomped her foot like a naughty kid. “I won’t do it!” Becky crossed her arms as she shook her head, tossing her dirty blonde pony tail back and forth.

“OK, then I will have to withdrawal the offer of dropping the lawsuit.”

“Please, Mr. Fastner, 88 is a lot. Please, how about 20 instead.” Mrs. Jones interjected.

“20 swats across her jeans is whole inadequate for the seriousness of her actions,” Mr Fastner countered.

“Ah, what about 20 across her panties?” Mrs. Jones said.

“50 across her panties.”

“20 and on my bare bottom” Becky countered. This was exactly want James was looking for, consent by Becky to her punishment.

“22 on your bare bottom will be adequate.”

“Deal!” Becky said holding out her hand like she had just won a heated negotiation.

Mr. Fastner smirked slightly when he saw the prideful smile spread across Becky’s face. “Girl, don’t you know that pride cometh before the fall,” he said in his head as he extended his hand to accept the “deal.”

Once James and Becky shook hands, and awkward silence filled the room. Everyone knew what was next, through no one wanted to say anything. James wanted one of Becky’s parents to take charge of the situation while the Jones were not quite sure how Mr. Fastner wanted to main event to proceed.

James started to slowly open his mouth when Mrs. Jones blurted out, “Becky why don’t you go over the back of the couch?”

“Yes, yes,” Chris responded rather awkwardly and he stood up. All three Jones scurried to take their positions for the next stage. Becky moved behind the couch and knelt slightly as she undid the button on her jeans. Keeping low and facing the back of the couch, she lowered her jeans and panties together to mid-thigh, then slowly curled over the back of the couch until she was fully inverted.

Mr. Fastner stayed seated in his chair opposite the couch as he watched the amusing show. Becky clearly did not want to show anything more than necessary while Mr. Jones did not want to see his daughter either. James predicted everyone would see more of Becky than she desired before the evening was over.

Chris pulled the doubled over belt back, over his shoulder and brought it soundly down onto his daughter’s bottom. He had tried to make it look like it was hard, but place only a mild level of force behind the swat. He didn’t really want to hurt her, but felt obliged to carry out his duty, especially since Mr. Fastner was watching.

CRACK! “AAHHH!” Becky screeched as the whipped across her bottom. She wiggled her hips about while trying to reach her hands back to protect her bottom.

“Becky, now,” Chris reprimanded his daughter quietly, believing her reaction was more acting than legitimate distress.

CRACK! “AAHHH!” Becky screamed as her hands once again shot to console her bottom.

A mixture of annoyance and embarrassment built within Mr. Jones. First she had shot off her mouth about the settlement, then she had been completely disrespectful to Mr. Fastner, now she was refusing to own up to her mistakes and take the punishment like an adult. He pulled her left wrist upwards, into the small of back and whipped the belt down into it’s target.

CRACK! “AAHHH!” Becky screeched again. Her father didn’t allow her much time to react, instead repeat the hard swat again and again.

The sudden ferocity broke Becky’s comprehension of the situation. She still felt the pain building in her bottom with each successive blow, through she no longer felt the need to fight it. Around halfway, her lungs gave out and she could no longer even vocally protest. Each new swat was simply punctuated her sobs with a grunt. The whole situation overcame her quickly after that, freeing her mind from her body and letting it drift through oblivion.

Becky didn’t consciously recognized the end of the spanking, or her mother helping her up. The first real event to break was her mother’s voice yelling her name as she danced around half-naked, rubbing her bottom. When reality came crashing back, all she could do was shriek in embarrassment, pull her jeans and panties up towards her hips and take off for her room.

Becky immediately dropped her jeans and panties once the door was locked. Arching her head over her shoulder she admired the damage to her bottom. Even through the tear hazed eyes, she make out angry red bands crisscrossing her formerly snow white skin. Becky could only think of one thing, she NEVER wanted that to happen again. And it definitely wasn’t worth making Tricia jealous. Her jeans and panties remained at the door as she collapsed into bed to cry.

Mr. Fastner and the Jones spoke briefly after Becky left. Once James had left, the Jones stayed in the living room and talked over the new offer Mr. Fastner had made. It was mighty tempting, through they were concerned whether Becky would agree to the terms. They were severe, through probably not unwarranted. They agreed to wait, and see the effect this experience had on their daughter before even bringing up the idea to her.

Oddities among Implements

Have you ever seen or read about a spanking and thought the implement used seemed odd. It may have been very effective, but it just felt odd to you that someone would consider it appropriate to use that particular item in a spanking. There are two implements which I have seen used in multiple situations but just feel out of place to me; the carpet beater and the fly swatter.

The traditional carpet beater has a large woven wicker head and a some sort of attached handle. It should resemble a paddle in one’s mind, though in my mind it resembles more of a wicker pitchfork than a paddle. This then correlates to swinging a pitchfork at a naughty lady’s bottom. Not a sexy thought. I have only ever used one on carpets and a couple of blankets and really have no intention of trying one out on other surfaces.

The fly swatter is the second implement which I see as odd because I do not see how it can be effective. I remember as a kid using fly swatters as fake swords and having duels with them because it didn’t hurt when you got hit by one. They remind me of a comically over-sized version of a crop. A crop is wicked because with enough flick of the wrist you can get that little leather tip going supersonic. Not so much with a flyswatter. I guess it could work in more a sensual sense, where a hundred little pats are causing a tingle to dance across the lady’s bottom. In a disciplinary situation, the spanker’s arm would tire well before her bottom was even pink. You might as well use your hand and enjoy other liberties from time time.

So are there any implements you just think are odd?