Halloween Pranks

This is a story I wrote last month and had scheduled to be posted the night before Halloween, however I somehow messed up the scheduling aspect and it was never posted. So here is a little belated Halloween story.

Halloween is the best holiday of the year. There is no debating it. There is a slight chill in the air, revitalizing you after long hot summer. Couple that with the parties, the decorations and the sweets and you have a spectacular month of celebrations. And, it is the only time of the year where you can dress up as a complete slut and no one gives you a second look. Well, the creepy guys do, but they always do. Whether you are naughty nurse with two tiny strips of fabric covering the vital areas or a frumpy mother of two with no makeup and in baggy sweats.

All of those points are just icing on the cake to the best part of Halloween, pranks. The “treat” portion of trick or treating is good, but the trick portion is much, much better. There are few things better in life than pulling of the perfect prank. The culmination of a hundred little steps in the look of shock is unlike anything else. The receiver of my pranks where not as always so receptive. As a kid, I just assumed I was grounded from Halloween until about Thanksgiving, and every year it was worth it.

This year I had one of my better pranks planned out. George was going to be out of town on business the week of Halloween, not to return until the morning of the first, which meant the kids were mine. I had yet to pull any of my master pranks on the kids, but it seemed right year to indoctrinate them.

Being four and six, they had yet to understand the intricacies of this wonderful holiday, and instead focused just on the candy. Will had been planning his costume since labor day, building a really good replica of R2D2 out of a trashcan, just some cardboard, paint and a bunch of his dad’s help. George had somehow gotten a copy of the original plans for the studio and helped him build it exactly like the movies.

I took Friday off work to attend Gina’s class party in the morning and then Will’s in the afternoon. They both looked so adorable. Gina had choose a little Cinderella dress with matching plastic “glass” slippers. I swear, half the girls in her class chose to one of the two characters from Frozen. Her party went pretty much as expected, especially when any “sweets” were banned and replaced fruit and veggies. The other mothers actually made a bigger fuss than the kids.

Gina tagged along to Will’s party, which he didn’t particularly like, but it didn’t cause any harm. Will’s class allowed sweets, but only ones acceptable to all kids. This meant gluten free, sugar free, peanut free, round pieces of cardboard were handed out as “cookies.” I almost bust out laughing at the face Gina made when she tried one. Ever the miss manners, she struggled to finish the horrible desert.

After school the kids wanted to immediately go trick or treating, and were quite annoyed when they had to wait three hours, as well as eat dinner. We spent about an hour walking around the neighborhood, with them trying to get candy from every house, insignificant of the porch light being on. At the end, Will wanted to continue, even through he was starting to struggle with carrying his heavy bag of candy.

I poured the candy from their two bags into one big pile on the kitchen island. Holding the big bowl in my left hand, I quickly picked out the good pieces around the edges. Will and Gina watched with baited breath while I sorted out the good candy and the suspicious pieces. I was about a third of the way done when I sat the bowl between them and said “OK, you can choose one piece to eat tonight.”

I turned my head to sort out a few more good pieces and when I looked back, both of the kids were chomping away. I had to glance around the bowl to make sure they had actually removed the wrapper before inhaling the sweet.

After sorting out the suspicious stuff, including a tiny baggie of cut celery, I carefully placed the overflowing bowl into the oven for safe storage. Two pairs of little eyes followed their treasure all the way to it’s storage space, making sure mommy didn’t try and steal any. It was so adorable, and so perfectly naive for my upcoming prank.

After I got the kids in bed, I sent my plan in motion. I had bought a second, big blue bowl yesterday and dug it out of the closet where I had hid it. Removing their candy from the oven, I pull out an old cookie tray and lined it with aluminum foil. I then set the second bowl of candy on the try and returned it to the oven. Cranking it up to 450, I figured the bowl would be a heap of plastic in no time.

I was correct. Fifteen minutes later I had a mushy pile of blue plastic that had the slightest resemblance of a bowl. I pulled it out of the oven and decorated the top with the wrappers of the candy I had ate while waiting for the bowl to melt. It looked perfect mistake. I replaced the melted bowl in the oven when it had cooled down and went to bed, eagerly waiting for morning.

—-

“MOM! MOM! OUR CANDY!” Will yelled, as he shook me awake.

“Hu? What do you mean?” I said, not immediately realizing what he said in my semi-drozy state.

“Out candy is all gone!” Gina cried beside her brother.

My prank came back in a flash. “No, it’s just in the oven, where you saw me put it last night,” I faked rubbing sleep from my eyes.

“Com’on see!” Will tugged me down to the kitchen, barely allowing me to grab my robe along the way.

“It’s all gone,” Will blubbered, dropping to his knees in front of the open oven. The kids were not supposed to get in the oven without my permission, but that rule had been obviously overlooked before I woke up.

“Oh no, what could have happened?” I faked concern, holding my hand over my mouth to prevent the kids from seeing the grin I knew was going to be overtaking my lips soon.

Will stared at the pile of melted blue plastic, blubbering some nonsense. Gina, on the other hand had quietly stepped back from the bowl, seemly in shock. I did my best to cover the giggle I could feel building inside when I heard Gina in the living room.

“Yes 911 I need help!” Gina cried into the receiver.

“Oh shit!” I mumbled, running for the living room.

“OK, honey, just try to calm down…” I heard coming from the phone as I reached her. I immediately separated Gina and the receiver.

“Sorry, everything’s OK. My daughter just misunderstood something.”

“Ma’am, who is this?” the 911 operator demanded.

I spent the next few minutes trying to convince her that everything was ok and or disregard the crying she heard in the background. I was fearful of police showing up at any minute and busting down our front door.

After getting off the phone, I scolded Gina for her poor usage of 911 then told the kids it was all a big joke. This was the point were I started to think about George’s opinion of my prank. I tried to pacify the kids with some extra candy, but they were still annoyed with my prank that they ratted me out to George when he got home.

And that is why I am here. Nose to the corner, waiting for George to finish a few emails and come upstairs.

—-

“Come here,” George commands. I scamper over to his side, hoping to go over his knee, rather than be sent over the end of the bed. He sits down on the edge and I start laying myself over his offered lap when he stops me. “Not so fast. Does my baby know why she is being punished?”

His tone is soft and comforting, but reeks of disappointment. It sent a chill through me, and not the good, excited kind, but the “I’m scared of what is going to happen” kind. “Yes, sir” I mumble, looking down at this sock covered feet.

“Good. Then you can go over there and bend over and grab your ankles.” George motions to the center of our bedroom.

I hate getting spanked bending over and grabbing my ankles. It makes me feel like such a naughty little girl. That feeling probably came from the Halloween when we went in paired costumes; I as a naughty school girl and George as the strict headmaster. The sex that night was spectacular, even if it involved him pounding away at my freshly caned bum.

I step to the prescribed spot and reach down for my toes. The once easy task of touching my toes is hindered by my reduced flexibility from age and two children. I feel all the muscles start to strain across my thighs, then up towards the peak of my body. The skin stretches taught as I grab a hold just above my ankles before closing my eyes and waiting. I do not want to know what a waits my bottom.

The whistle of air is the only indication that he has started. I try to brace for the impact but I am a millisecond too late. As is typical, the first stroke overwhelms my senses, as it rushes from my bottom, down my spine to my brain. My eyes flash open as I try to scream, but instead I can gulp for a new breath.

I am more prepared for the second stroke, gritting my teeth and sucking in air as now recognized cane cuts into my bottom. I take the third and fourth strokes as well as the second one. On the fifth one he catches me low one the cheeks and I let out a little squeak. The sixth one is lower still and I let my displeasure with its placement be known through low, drawn-out “ouch!”

George breaks his steady pace. I can feel him moving closer to my hips and I can only think of him taking me from behind. Rather, I am hoping he will take me now. A quiver runs through my pelvis and I’m sure my hips quake.

He dances his fingertips across my stripped bottom and I clench every muscle in my pelvis. “Do you think you have been punished adequately?” George asks, dancing his fingers close and closer to my ache.

“Yessssss,” I coo, hoping he will move south.

“Well, I don’t think so. Another half-dozen seems warranted,” he says, removing his fingers. I groan at his intention to continue, but I know better than to openly complain, especially in my current position. “But first.”

“Ahhh,” I gasp as he touches me again. This is the best part of being naughty.

Indecision leads to mistakes – Spanket

This is part of the Spanket series. The first part is “Joining the Competition“.
March 25th, 10:47pm

SWAT! “Owe!” Jessie cried out more from surprise than pain. She had been to focused on the little screen to notice Nate shuffling around in bed to give her a spank through the blankets. The spank sent her into overdrive, exiting the mail app and stuffing the offending device under her pillow.

“What did I tell you about using you phone?” Nate asked, pulling the blankets down her back.

“I’m sorry,” Jessie pleaded as she started to roll over.

“Nut uh, I think you need a reminder,” he chided.

“Awww, but it’s late!” Jessie pouted.

WACK! Nate spanked her panty-clad bottom. “That’s why you shouldn’t be playing on your phone.”

“Honneeyyy,” she whined.

WACK! “Do I need to go over to the dresser?”

“No,” she answered quickly. The dresser meant an implement and she did not think he had one currently within reach. Unless he wanted to use a pillow, which she would eagerly accept.

“Then get those panties down and stop whining,” Nate commanded, sitting fully upright.

“Yes, sir,” Jessie mumbled as she reached down to bare her bottom without getting up. They inverted themselves as she wiggled the undergarment as far down her thighs as her finger tips could reach. With his target exposed, she folded her arms under the pillow where she buried her head. She was in no mood for anything more than his hand, so she focused on holding in any yelps to prevent him from implementing one of their newer rules; making a fuss from a hand spanking automatically earned her the paddle.

Nate started with a few quick, sharp swats, testing the coloration of her white mounds. The quick reddening told him exactly what he had guessed, she hadn’t been spanked enough lately. “Well I can fix that,” he thought to himself, slowing his rhythm to a steady pace of mild swats.

Jessie growled into the pillow when she realized the reduction in intensity. She knew the softer spanks would allow him to keep up the pace forever. Well it would seem like forever to her, as the sting slowly compounded into a mountain. She was half tempted to start fussing about, and get him to give her the paddle or belt in stead. At least they would be over quickly, once he started with them. It was the logical choice, but logic had no room in Jessie’s mind at that moment as the fear of the burn from the paddle or belt filled up all the available space.

Nate spanked away at his wife’s bottom, slowly covering every inch of it three times, before his hand hurt too much. He slapped it down hard in the center and held it in placed, absorbing the heat her skin was radiating. It was hot, though not as hot as he would have preferred. He briefly considered switching hands, but the clock caught his eye. 11:04 was late enough. “Are you going to play on your phone at night again?”

“No,” Jessie mumbled, pulling her head from the pillow to try and look towards him.

“Good, now lets get to bed,” Nate stated, pulling the blankets back over her bottom. He shifted the blankets on his side, sliding down low enough for her to easily hold him. He hadn’t figured out why, but after sex or a spanking, she loved cuddling up close to him and falling asleep.

Jessie wiped the tears from her eyes before rolling on her side, facing Nate. She shimmied her hips backwards as she snuggled up to his chest. Two red cheeks poked out from the blankets, into the cool bedroom air, as the couple drifted off to sleep. The last thing Jessie thought was “I am not getting spanked again soon!”

Sweet Sixteen Swats – Spanket

I must apologize for the absence of posts recently. I got stuck fixing a set of problems at work which left little to no free time. I know the tournament is over, but I did get a few moments to record some notes as things progressed, and now will build upon those notes to finish the series. Spanket starts with Joining the Competition.

March 24th, 12:02pm

Jessie had received the email from Diane an hour ago, but only just got the chance to read it. And reread it. And reread it again. Now she had just scrolled down to the table of current scores in the center of the message.

“Ladies,

The first weekend is the books and some of us are going better than others.

The current scores are:
Alice – 30 pts with a possible score of 86 pts
Julie – 30 pts with a possible score of 126 pts
Rebecca – 35 pts with a possible score of 83 pts
Jessie – 44 pts with a possible score of 124 pts
Ethel – 44 pts with a possible score of 152 pts
Diane – 45 pts with a possible score of 157 pts

Remember, if you want to trade scores with someone else, both ladies need to email me stating they want to switch.

Enjoy the break in action, well basketball action. I know I will 🙂

Diane”

“What to do, what to do?” she mumbled to herself. She had been thinking of this question for a day and a half, since the hangover faded on Saturday afternoon. It had taken all her muster to stay behaved while such a momentous question hanged over her head. After Arizona clinced a birth in the sweet sixteen, Nate had asked her an innocent enough request, but her snarky response had nearly upended her. He had cut off his disapproving stare with a few well placed kisses and a quickie on the kitchen counter.

Yesterday she came to the conclusion that if she was far behind, she would bite the bullet and take a quick spanking now to prevent a more involved event later on. She also decided if she was in the lead she would try her hand at being on top, if the situation presented itself. But what about now? She had not prepared for being in the middle, with a good current score, but a poor potential score. What should she do?

“I know, go out to lunch or stay at your desk, such a hard decision.”

Jessie jumped at the sound of her coworker’s voice behind her. In a flash she flipped over her phone and tried to act nonchalant as she turned around. The sudden interuption had sent a spike of adreline through her body, now she could feel her heart pound way below her bra. She immediately though the mousey Mary had seen over her shoulder and seen everything. Or even worst, she hadn’t been talking to herself IN her head.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Mary apologized, bowing slightly to hide the blush crossing her cheeks as she retreated from the cubicle.

The demure stature freaked Jessie out. She thought Mary must have heard everything and knew her dirty little secret, and now was trying to excuse herself from the awkward situation. “It’s not what you think,” Jessie blurted out before she could really think through the situation.

The unexpected response caused Mary to pause at the cubicle doorway. “Hu?”

Jessie saw question spread across her coworker’s face. This was her out chance to escape, with miminal additional embarassment. “What did you say?”

“I wanted to see if you wanted to go to lunch? What,” Mary answered.

“Oh yes,” Jessie accepted, cutting off Mary. Grabbing her purse, she fled her desk, hoping the open space of the lobby would divert attention to a new topic.

The four simple words caused her to fret all day, and into the drive home. What should she do?

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.