Collections

The beat reverberated throughout the club, imparting a life through the dance floor. Bodies twisted to the left and right, tossing sweat about.

Jerry’s black sunglasses dampened the flicker of the strobe lights as he surveyed the dance floor from his alcove. He hated dance clubs, the strobe lights and damn techno music blaring extra loud, but work dictated his presence. With any luck he would be able to complete the job and be gone within the hour.

Ellie was the third girl to introduce herself to Jerry and his bottle of Cristol. He had quickly brushed off the previous two, but this one was more resilient.

“What? You don’t want to have a good time?” she snarked back. “Then why did you come here and order this wonderful bottle unless you wanted to have some fun? Com’on big guy.” She said drawing a finger to her lips.

Jerry scanned the young girl up and down. Her make-up was over applied, obviously trying to hide the fact she was a couple years too young to get in the club. It was a shame, because just across the border she could’ve gotten into any club she wanted, legally. He didn’t dwell on the issue, working down her body to the outfit which screamed something between slut, whore and rebellious school-girl. A short-sleeve white blouse was tied up under her bust, accentuating her cleavage while allowing the black lace of her push-up bra to peak out. The plaid skirt hide as much of her assets as the blouse, rolled over at the top to shorten it until the hemline revealed black nylon if she did anything but stood straight up.

Jerry knew better but let her sit on the couch next to him nonetheless.

“Aren’t you a little young to be in here,” Jerry asked, taking a sip of his glass.

“Yea, aren’t you a little old to be in here?” she shot back, pouring herself a glass.

Jerry nodded his glass to the school-girl outfit.

“Oh, the outfit is an old one from school. My girlfriends dared me.” She leaned closer to his ear. “You know, to have a little fun. I prefer something, ah.” She let the words hang between them, hoping his imagination was working in overdrive. “sexier.”

Jerry tilted his glasses down, to see if she was just playing things up. He’d seen the game before.

Ellie took it as a slight, “I see you don’t believe me. Order some more Cristol and I’ll show you.” She feathered her fingers down his chest.

Jerry knew it was a test. At a thousand Euros a bottle, she was feeling out his bank account. He’d bite, especially since his client would be paying for it anyways. The waitress went straight to the back once he heard the order.

Ellie sipped the champagne, decided to press him farther while they waited for the bottle. “I’m Ellie, and what should I call you?”

“Jerry.”

“Well Jerry, what do you do when you’re not staking out dark night clubs?”

“Ah…I’m in collections,” he answered after a moment’s thought.

“Collections? I’ve never heard of anyone it that. It must pay well?” she tried to ask nonchalantly.

Jerry laughed as the obviousness of her intent. She was here for his money and he had no problem with it. “You could say that.”

The waitress interrupted any further conversation with the freshly opened bottle. She refilled the offered glasses before asking if they needed anything else. Ellie didn’t wait for him to answer, instead standing up as she dismissed the waitress.

Ellie turned her back to him, cocking her hip to the side causing her bottom to stick out more. With two hip swaying steps, she walked around the small table to the velvet curtains hanging on each side of the alcove. The velvet cloth fell together with a pull of the sashes, separating them from the rest of the club.

Jerry considered stopping her. He was here for a job, not whatever she intended on doing.

Ellie flared her hips as she rounded the table. She stopped directly in front of him and placed a hand on each knee. She leaned forward until her lips were at his right ear. “Now, let me show you, something sexier.”

Jerry couldn’t help but look down the front of her blouse at the soft, tanned skin encased in black lace. With a gentle push, his legs opened and she dropped to her knees. Her hands were on his belt before he realized what she was doing. He leaned forward to sit down his glass, but she pushed him back into the cushion with one hand and freed him from his boxers with the other.

“Ooo, so perfect,” she purred as he pointed straight at her.

“Hey,” was all he could get out before he disappeared between her cherry red lips. This was wrong, so wrong, he thought as his lower mind took control of his body.

Ellie bobbed her head up and down a couple of times, taking his full length in her mouth. She went down hard, feeding him into the back of her throat as she reached up to free his balls.

Jerry didn’t know if it was his lack of a sex life, or if she was really that good, but this was better than he had ever remembered. She knew the right places to touch, at the right time and in just the right way.

She pulled back, freeing him from lips while keeping one hand messaging his balls. She looked into his eyes as her free index finger gently wiped a little spit from her lips. He allowed his eyes to slip shut, trying to clear the sensations from his head.

Ellie used the moment to take a sip of champagne, and then bury his shaft in her mouth. She worked her tongue around the bottom as the bubbles did their magic. A couple more long licks and she could feel his hips tense. She

Jerry was embarrassed at how fast he erupted. Barely ten minutes earlier this girl and walked up to his table and now he was spent.

“Oo, that was quick,” she purred, wiping a bit of cum from her lips. “Why don’t we go back to your place and see if next time you go longer?”

“Sure,” Jerry answered immediately. She got up and adjusted her clothes while he fixed his trousers and belt. Five minutes later they were making their way through the club to the door.

—-

The valet pulled up in a silver Aston Martin DB9. Moments later, he was using all six gears on the rented sports car, flying through the tiny European streets to the Intercontinental. His firm had set him up in a suite there, albeit a small one; and he wanted to get her to his room before she changed her mind. By the way she stroked the leather encased dash, though he doubted she would. The car had put any doubts of his wealth to rest.

She started in on the elevator, smearing lipstick all around his mouth. By the time the doors opened at his floor, she was in his arms with her legs wrapped around his waist. He had no option but to carry her down the hall, bumping into a table and painting on the way to his end suite.

Ellie broke her lock on his lips long enough for him to fumble the door unlocked. They burst through the door and Ellie instantly surveyed the room. It was obviously a suite, but probably one of the smallest. Maybe it was being paid for by his company, she thought.

She let out a little gasp when he pushed her against the wall. She took it as a cue to refocus on kissing for the moment. The grabbed his lower lip between hers and started sucking gently. He worked back at her lips, easing her down onto the side table. She started unbuttoning his shirt but was stopped after the second button. He pulled her wrists out from between their bodies, arcing them around until they met above her head. With his left hand holding her wrists against the wall, he worked his way from her lips over towards her earlobe then down to neck. She let her eyes fall closed, as she craned her head to the side to provide him better access.

She didn’t even notice the click of the handcuffs until he pulled way and allowed her wrists to fall to her lap. She wasn’t expecting the metal bracelets, but she was game for a little kinky fun.

“Ok Sweetheart, I think that is enough.” Jerry said moving towards the sofa.

“Ah, I you want to see my kinky side,” Ellie smiled broadly as she wiggled a shoulder at him as she followed him towards the couch.

“No, I have other plans for you,” Jerry responded as he pulled a manila folder and his laptop out of his brief case.

“What kind of plans?” Ellie said in her lower, sultry voice, running a finger down his chest as she sunk into couch next to him.

“Plans which involve those cuffs staying on you for a lot longer than you’d like.”

Fear instantly overtook her. “What? Let me go! Do you know who I am?” Ellie demanded.

Jerry picked up the manila folder off the coffee table and started reading. “Elisa Marie Montgomery, Ellie for short. Born December 25th, 1994 putting you at 19. Parents Franklin and Evelyn. Currently a sophomore at NYU. Oh, someone has been slacking in her studies. Ten credits short of being a junior after two years. Do I need to go on?” He tilted the folder down in a nicely condescending manner.

“Who are you? What do you want from me?”

“Jerry, like I told you earlier,” he answered, tossing the folder onto the coffee table. “And I’m here to collect you for my client.”

“WHAT!” Ellie screamed. She was being kidnapped!

“Hush!” Jerry commanded.

“No, you can’t!” Ellie yelled, trying to stand up. “AHHH! HELP!” Ellie made it to her feet and took one step towards the door before two large hands took hold of her hips from behind and spun her in an arc until she was facing the windows. She tried kicking, but with Jerry behind her, her aim was miserable. Nonetheless, she made contact with the side of his thigh.

“ENOUGH,” Jerry growled, gently tossing the 120 lb girl onto the sofa. “Now sit there and be quiet!”

“No! HELP!” Ellie cried out, wiggling back to her feet. She made it one step before stumbling forward, right across Jerry’s lap. “Let me up!” she cried, trying to knee his left calf.

Jerry was finally getting annoyed at this girl, and put his hand on her back, pinning her in place. She wiggled and screamed, just irritating him further. He hated when his female targets let lose those high-pitch screams, especially indoors. Jerry didn’t know what overcame him, but his next actions surprised him.

WACK! Jerry hand slapped into the nylon covered bottom presented him by the upraised skirt.

“No! Stop!” She yelled out.

Jerry spanked her again and again, enjoying the impact and subsequent ripples he was making across her pert behind. Her black nylon panties may have provided her some modesty, five years ago, but now just strained to contain any of her full bottom.

The sting being imparted on her bottom completely messed with her head. Her mind tried to tell her mouth to yell “STOP!”, but only a garbled mixture of ouches and ahs passed her lips. He didn’t care as he painted her once porcelain cheeks, rose.

“Do I have your attention now?” Jerry asked, pausing to let the smarting in his palm die down.

“Yes, sniff, yes, just stop.” she blubbered.

“Good,” he replied, resting his palm on the back of her thighs. For a moment, the man inside him took control, drinking in the erotic image presented him. The rounded cheeks flush with color, slowly heaving with each breath. The black nylon filling the valley between the mounds, before going south where it wrapped to every contour of her sexy. She was completely at his mercy.

A slight pain from his arousal straining against her side brought him back to reality. He pulled her upright, off his lap and onto her knees. Then, holding the handcuffs, he lifted her to her feet and summarily deposited her in a chair at the small dinette table.

Ellie looked a mess. Tears had run her mascara into to black streaks down her face. Her silk blouse was bunched up around the plaid ring of her mini-skirt at her waist. Below, hints of black lace poked out between her legs curled below her body.

Jerry took the remote, flipped on the TV then sat the remote on the table next to her. She watched him walk over to the closet before wiping her eyes simultaneously with base of each thumb. The handcuffs made it challenging to get her wrist wide enough, but she managed to clear the cloudiness which had remained from her crying.

Blinking a couple of times, she was shocked to find the room empty. Jerry had disappeared in the few seconds she had closed her eyes. She quickly looked around while straining to hear any noise, but she just found emptiness. Emptiness and the BBC newscaster droning on. Escape instantly crossed her mind. She slipped to her feet and started towards the door, grabbing her handbag on the way.

She got as far as the bathroom door when she realized where Jerry had gone. She froze in mid stride as he starred back at her with a toothbrush hanging from his mouth. Being at a lost for words was rare for her, but the blush sweeping over her face and neck spoke to her emotions.

“Ah, ah,” she stuttered, trying to think of a reason for her presence which wouldn’t end with her inverted again. “Ah, can I brush my teeth?”

He picked up one provided by the hotel in plastic wrapping and held it out to her. She took it with both hands and watched as he turned back to the sink and leaned forward, spitting out the toothpaste.

“Oh, and if you try to escape again, you’ll find yourself back over my lap,” Jerry mentioned as we walked past her, not even glancing in her direction.

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!”

New Years Recollections and Resolutions, Part I

This story is a standalone continuation of the Three Ghosts of Halloween. The characters are the same, through it should enjoyable without having read the other story.

“Deck the halls with bows of Holli, Fa La La!…” I hummed along to the music of Jingle Bells as I dug around in my closet looking for something to wear tonight. I don’t know why tune was still in my head, being that Christmas was a week ago. I guess I was just in a festive mood. Tonight was New Year’s Eve and it was time to get my party on. Since becoming an adult, I had become to prefer the New Years celebrations to those of Christmas. Christmas is great and all, but it is a time for family, while New Year’s is a time for friends. The later is just less stressful for me.

I pull the bottom pair of jeans from the stack then give them a good shake. These were my best pair of skinny jeans and I prayed I could still squeeze into them after the holiday food frenzy. I took a deep break as the waist neared to top of my thighs. Releasing my breath, I pulled the jeans up and gave a slight hop. When I landed the waist had cleared by hips and settle into their natural place. I quickly zipped them up before attempting to breath again. I was quite amazed at how easy they went on. Maybe I hadn’t gained as much weight as I had thought.

Next up was a cute top. The first couple options I pulled from the hangers were too “worky” or “cluby.” I wanted something that had an understated sexiness to it. Part of tonight’s fun was going to be teasing Adam all night long before we christened the New Year our special way. I turned around and started on the other side when I pulled out a black cashmere sweater with a mild V-neck. Just the thing get his motor going.

I pulled the sweater over my head and adjusted the front to show a fair amount of cleavage. I moved over to the full length mirror to admire my outfit, “Damn I look hot!” I ran a hand down my body, smoothing out a couple of wrinkles. “Why hadn’t I wore this combo more this winter?” Like a tidal wave, the events surrounding my last wearing of this sweater came back.

I snuck the bags through the backdoor, hoping Adam wasn’t home yet. I had left before him, but I wasn’t sure where he was going, so he could be back already. It would wreck the surprise if he saw his Christmas presents before Christmas. Also, I might have spent a little bit more than I had intended, but the deals were so good.

I tip-toed through our house, like a teenager trying to sneak in after curfew. I had to bump into everything in my path and squeaked every floorboard I could on my way to the master bedroom. I was sure I had made it when I opened the bedroom door only to have the same outcome as most teenagers, being caught.

“Ah, you got home,” Adam said from behind the glow of his laptop. In the low light, I wouldn’t make out much, but he looked a little annoyed from here. “Put away the gifts then we need to have a talk.”

“But..but..but…” I tried defending myself against the unknown accusation.

The next few minutes were a blur. Adam quickly informed me that he knew exactly how much I had spent, and that it was considerably more than we had agreed to spend jointly. Like a thousand dollars more. And that any purchases made for myself would be returned in the morning, plus, he was going to implement our post-Halloween agreement. The next thing I really remember was being face down over his lap as he went to work on my butt. I was squealing from his hand within a minute. When tears started to come he stopped, and began scolding me about my poor spending habits. I have to admit this wasn’t the first time I had spent a little bit too much.

“Ok, stand up,” Adam commanded. I was half expecting him to continue for another 10 minutes of stingy spanks, but he had asked me to get up, like my spanking was all over.

I eased myself off his lap, and immediately started to rub the sting out of my bottom. I barely touched my bottom before he took my wrists and held them together in front of my pussy. “Hey!”

“Not yet, your spanking is even close to being over,” Adam chided as he got up, holding my wrists together with one hand. “I think this is much too serious for a hand spanking.” My heart sank at those words. After the Halloween incident, I had gotten this great idea to look up adult spankings online and spent most of the weekend learning all about the subject as well as domestic discipline and a couple things I wish I could unlearn. The masterful part of my idea was the Discipline Agreement I wrote up and presented to Adam at dinner on Sunday. It basically said he could spank me anytime I was naughty and anyway he deemed appropriate. The thorough fool I am, I provided him examples of misbehaviors and appropriate punishments.

I was spun around and escorted over to the decorative chair we kept in corner of our room. Adam must have pulled it away from the wall, because when he popped me up onto it so I was kneeling, facing the back, I had plenty of room to hold on to the back without bumping my head into the wall. I closed my eyes, waiting for want additional punishment he had in store for me.

I heard it before it’s fiery touch exploded across my bottom. He was using my white leather belt and not holding anything back. In a split second I regretted ever agreeing to be spanked as a second stroke came back. Adam followed my directions exactly, giving me just over dozen horrible strokes while ignoring my pleas for mercy. I was a crying mess when his hug surrounded me and carried me to bed.

“Honey! Where is the bottle of champagne?” Adam’s call from downstairs broke me from my revile. I blinked a couple of times, before noticing in the mirror my hand was rubbing a phantom throb from my bottom. I blushed slightly as I hurried downstairs to find the champagne for him. I had no intention of repeating the Black Friday incident tonight. How could I? We were just going over to our friends for drinks and some games.

It took me only a minute to gather up the champagne, deserts and couple of games we were taking over to Rick and Brittney’s. Once Adam helped me in to my new winter coat, a Christmas present from him, we were off to walk the block and a half to our friend’s house. I had contemplated asking Adam to drive, but the crisp winter’s air felt refreshing. It was quite romantic actually, gazing up at the stars as I held onto my man’s arm. The old fashion light posts lit our path while gentle breezes tried to tickle beneath my pea coat. I felt like I was living in the middle of a romantic movie.

After a brief greeting, Rick took Adam downstairs to show of his new toys. I heard something about XBox before I lost all interest in their conversation. Boys and their toys; things I’ll never understand.

“Do you think we’ll see the guys before midnight?” I asked Brittney as she led the way to the kitchen.

“Yea, the fridge is almost empty in the bar down there. I give them an hour before they come looking for food or beer.”

I chuckled as added, “They can have all the beer.”

“You know it girl. I got big bottle of Jose Silver so we can make margaritas. Let the men have their beer!” Brittney responded, pulling 1.75L bottle of tequila from the counter next to the fridge.

“Margaritas, yikes!” I thought. It tastes so good, and makes me get so bad. I took a quick glance around the counters, looking for some alternative. Anything other than tequila. Wine? Vodka? Whiskey? Nothing was present, and I doubted the fridge would offer anything other than beer. What to do? What should I do? What will I do? Brittney had never seen me after a couple shots of tequila. I actually hadn’t had tequila since that bonfire party Adam dragged me to a couple months after we started dating.

—-

“Hey Babe, what a shot?” Adam asked as he pour some cheap off-brand, tequila into plastic shot glasses.

“Sure!” I grabbed the pink cup and held it high while Rick took a blue one and Adam took a neon yellow.

“Cheers!” I said tapping the guy’s cups then tossed back the shot. The tequila burned in all the good ways. First my throat warmed to its embrace, then a couple gentle tinges in my stomach before I could feel it coursing through my veins. All of a sudden I felt extra alive.

I grabbed the bottle of tequila and poured out another round. I threw mine back before the guys had their plastic cups in the air. The second one was better than the first. The third was even better. We ran out of tequila on the third and Adam volunteered to go get more, and some much needed chasers.

The music felt so good at that moment I just had to dance.

I placed a knee on the edge of the table and tried to propel myself onto it, but my lack of balance was sending me backwards. Luckily, some gentleman saw my problem and provide a little help, and with big hand planted firmly on my ass, I was standing on the table. I let the music do its thing, guiding my hips to the beat as I raised my hands above my head.

Eventually the rock song ended and was replaced by a more upbeat song, “Opps I did it again!” Brittney’s music video shot through my mind, as if it was a personal challenge. I could show her sexy. That little Disney star didn’t know sexy if it was looking her in the face. I closed my eyes as my hips popped with the beat.

My pleated skirt joined my hips, swaying to and fro as the hem danced it’s way up my thighs. The cool night air seeping into the previously clammy confides invigorated me. I just started to increase my gyrations when the song ended and a new, quicker beat song started. For a moment, I was tempted to get down. The singular repetition of snare and bass was sapping my energy. Tequila convinced me to give it a try, and I began putting out my left leg an tapping along with the beat. Two measures later the guitar joined in and recognized the song.

“Sweat Baby! Sweat Baby!” the lyrics blasted from the speakers, encouraging me pantomime the story being portrayed. ” Imitated brushing sweet from my brow, will keeping my hips swaying with the beat. “Put your hands, down my pants, and I bet you’ll feel nuts!” I slipped my right hand down the front of my skirt while making a mock surprise face and cover my mouth with my left hand.

“Come on, get down from there!” Adam yelled over the music. I swept my hand around to brush him off, but depth perception had left my vision at least a shot ago. My hand missed him by two feet and instead getting him to move back, provided him with an anchor to hold me.

“No..” I continued to sway along with the beat which by now only existed in my head. “Let maaa danccce!”

“Hey!” came a collective protest from every guy around. Adam ignored them all, and swept his left arm around my knees and hoisted me into his arms. I squealed in surprise and started wiggling about, trying to free myself. It was at that moment I realized a real problem with dating a linebacker; he is expected to physically stop men three times my size out on the field. I have no chance of escaping his grip if he doesn’t want to let me go. And I am fine with that fact.

Adam took only a couple of steps before gently setting my feet upon the ground. He had thoughtfully assumed I would not like gravity at that moment and set me next to the wall. I held onto the wall until the floor decided to quit titling and stay still. I was then able to look at Adam in the eye, and tell he was quite upset.

“Awe, don’t you like me dancing sexy?” I purred as I ran a finger down his chest.

“Not like some 2-dollar whore!” Adam snapped.

“I am not some whore!” I responded, trying to stand upright. The alcohol was having an effect on my balance, but I knew I could overcome it.

“What you were doing up there sure looked like it!”

“Fuck you!” I waved my right index finger about before landing it on his chest. “If you like it, you can find another girl!” I gave a slight push, turned and walked off to find a guy who liked my dancing. I have no idea how I walked away, but somehow accomplished it.

The true story of Goldie Locques

Southey flipped the latch and cast the lid of the old wooden chest open. The contents had been the most treasured possessions his late grandmother. Now it was all that he had left.

A shallow shelf greeted him, contain a dress that hadn’t been worth in a decade, the folder of legal documents relating to his portion of her estate and a well worm bible. Nothing of any actual value, he thought to himself as he wiggled the shelf free.

Setting aside the top shelf, he dug deeper, in hopes of finding some long lost treasure. Below he found half a dozen books, a music box and jewelry box. The jewelry box contained nothing more than a few old brass rings and a chain with silver cross. The cross might be worth something he thought to himself. carefully placing it in his vest pocket.

Setting the jewelry box on the floor, he next went for the music box. It was Swiss made, and even though he estimated it to be twice his age, with a turn of the handle it sprang to life. A gentle melody filled his small office with it’s mechanical tones.

Southey looked back into the box, hoping to find something of real value in the books. The first book was the ledger from his grandfather’s business while the second was a hymnal. The third book held some promise though. It had been a journal with wrote in a woman’s hand. Maybe it contained some secret family wealth, he thought wishfully.

“Dear Family,

I need to confess that I have lived a lie for many years. One day when, I’ve been laid to rest, I want you to know the truth, and not the story I have told you all many times.”

The rest of the page contained line upon line faded into obscurity by age, and a light dose of water. He flipped through a the pages until he found one not damaged by the water and continued reading.

—-

The snow started with the first rays of morning. Having traveled all night, the potential of an incoming storm scared me. A gusting wind from the north joined the snow, removing potential from the situation. The road I traversed offered little protection to the biting shards of iciness already piercing through my shawl. I knew I had to find shelter or I’d surely die in the coming storm.

I made the top of the hill to spot a river cutting across the valley with small farm house situated on it’s near banks. Shelter at last, I thought and used everything I had to reach the house before it disappeared into the white abyss.

I reached the barn first, where a heifers and chickens could be heard inside. I hadn’t seen anyone at the house during my trek from the road, but livestock meant the farm wasn’t abandoned. I continued on, trekking through the slowly building snow drifts.

I tried the handle but the door wouldn’t budge. Knocking and yelling brought no one either. The few low windows had their curtains pulled tightly shut, preventing me from seeing anything. A small window to the left of the door, and about an arm’s length above my head lacked the concealment of its colleagues.

Below the window, a rocking chair made a makeshift step-stool. The seat creaked under my weight as I peered into the house. I could see a gentle fire going in the fireplace with a large pot suspended in the center. Inside looked warm and cozy. I tried knocking on the window pane, but still there was no sign of life inside. I tried again, this time with more force. The second set shifted the window frame as it rotated slightly around a central axis. Wedging my numb fingers under the bottom of the frame, I pulled outwards, swinging the whole frame upwards. My face was greeted with a blast of warm air. I needed to get inside.

I took one last long glance around the field and when only snow was visible I decided I would have to crawl through the window. Not a very dignified prospect for a lady, but harsh times necessitated it.

At first I tried pulling myself through the window, but it was too high and I was too week to perform the aerobatic feet. I started climbing higher on the chair, placing a foot one armrest then another foot on the backrest. Both actions were rewarded with me getting more of my body into the window, but I couldn’t quite get through the threshold. I lowered my stance slightly then jumped as high as possible. Luckily I got my chest and stomach through the window, because the cracking that came from below implied I wouldn’t get another chance. A little wiggling and I tumbled forward into the warm confines of the house’s kitchen.

I laid on the kitchen floor for a few moments, wondering, hoping, someone would come find me. The floor felt considerably more comfortable that the barn I had slept in a day and a half ago. I seriously considered just falling a sleep, but a rumble in my gut said differently.

A large black pot suspended over fire was my first stop. Inside a slowly bubbling porridge looked so tasty. Two weeks ago I wouldn’t have even considered eating peasant food, but now, it looked spectacular. I scooped out a couple large portions into a clean looking bowl and grabbed a small wooden spoon.

“Eww!” I spit out the first bit of the semi-cooked porridge. It was a horrible mixture of hard oats and milk. I sat the bowl on the edge of the large pot so I could poke around in the pot and find any softer oats. No sooner had I picked up the ladle than the bowl toppled off the pot and into the fire. I cursed by bad luck. I could have put the porridge back into the pot and let it cook, because nothing in the pot was currently ready. Returning the lid, I went to scavenge for more food, or at least a better place to rest.

I found a small loaf of bread but nothing else was edible without some serious cooking. Ripping apart the bread into bite size chunks, I explored the rest of the house. The main floor consisted of a small salon type room and the kitchen. Upstairs was dividing into two bedrooms, a larger one with a broad bed and a smaller room with a smaller bed. A wardrobe stood in the corner of the smaller room, so I opened it out of curiosity. Inside were trousers and shirts of a small man and a stack of blankets. I pulled out the blankets and tossed them immediately on the bed. I needed the rest and the bed looked like a great place. Shedding my dress, I crawled beneath the blankets and settled in for a short sleep.

—–

“HEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” a voice pierced through my dreams and pulled me back to reality. The young man stood over me for a moment before pulling back the layers of blankets to reveal my shift.

“How dare you!” I cried out, pulling a blanket to cover myself as I scampered into a standing position.

“You come into our house and make a mess of my room and you ask how dare I? How dare you!” He may have looked like a boy, but is voice echoed the depth only present in men.

I was taken back by the indignation of the accusation. No boy has ever spoke to me like that and got away with it. My anger overtook me and I slapped him. The look on his face told a progression of emotions from shock to puzzlement to anger.

“GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!” he bellowed at me, pointing towards the doorway.

“You can’t throw me out in that!” I pointed towards the lone window in the room, complete with snow piled high upon the window sill. “I’ll surely die!”

His head followed the direction of my fingers towards the window, then back at me, ending him shaking his head. “You are right. You can stay until my father returns and he’ll deal with you!”

“Fine!” I said, plopping down on the bed.

“In the meantime, clean this mess up,” the boy said as he turned to leave me alone. He had reached the doorway when he added under his breath, “And maybe he won’t take the strap to you.”

It took me a moment to comprehend what he had mumbled, and even then I did not want to understand it. “WHAT!” I yelled after him. I shuffled over towards the door to find him at the top of the stairs, “What do you mean strap to me?” I knew what it meant to my father, but this was the country, maybe it was something else. Hopefully it was something else.

He paused at the top of the stairs, pivoting on his heel to face me. “You come in uninvited, make a mess then have an uppity attitude about it. He would have taken the strap to my backside had I did that at your age.”

“My age?” I’m not sure why the slight of my age was what I took away from his statement, when the strap was much more important. “I’m your senior!”

He laughed at that statement. “You are, what, ten, twelve?”

I don’t know why, but I slapped him again for that comment. “I turned eighteen this summer. I was to be married before I left. So can’t talk to me, you child.”

I was just starting to berate him when he interrupted me, “With an attitude like that, no wonder you chased him away.”

I was taken back. I brought my hand up to slap him again but he was prepared, catching my wrist well clear of his cheek. “That is enough!”

The next thing I knew, he spun me around and delivered a half dozen firm swats to by bottom. “Ahhh, stop!” I screeched. His spanks were half-hearted, but the suddenness surprised me.

“You ain’t going to take that strap well if that’s your reaction to my hand.” He let of my wrist, allowing me turn back towards him.

He brought up that strap again. My cousins from Scotland had mentioned a strap during their last visit and warned me to watch out if my husband ever bought one. They feared it more than their mother’s hairbrush. It was not something I wanted to experience, especially from some strange man. Maybe I could trick this boy into not escalating the situation.

“Wait, I’m sorry, Please we do not need this disagreement to go any farther.”

“Disagreement?” he laughed. “After your attitude, you deserve to be firmly punished, and father will see to that.”

I bit my lower lip. It was clear, that he wanted me punished. He started to leave again, when I stopped him. “Wait, you are right. I should be punished, but it should be you. I offended you, so you should punish me.” I paused a moment to see if he’d bite but there was no reaction so I added, “I’ll bend over and you can spank my bottom with your hand and this doesn’t need to go any farther.”

He paused to contemplate my offer. I batted my eye lashes and tried to use all my feminine charms to persuade him this was the better route. The shift from hardened glare to reluctant smile was all the indication I needed. “Please?”

“Fine, but you’ll go over my lap,” he said.

Yes, I thought. A light spanking over my shift would be nothing. I would play up my distress of it with some thrashing and this backwoods boy would be none the wiser. “If I must,” I answered adding a slight pout.

He directed us back to his room and immediately took station on the end of his bed. I was guided over his lap and I settled into as comfortable of a position I could get. The shift had ridden up on the back to expose the back of my knees which caused some embarrassment, as well as a chill to run up my underclothes and dance across my lower thighs.

I laid there for quite some time without anything happening. I didn’t know if he was waiting for my acknowledgement or reassurance, but nothing happened. I guessed his emotions from a moment had already faded and he was wondering whether this was a good idea anymore. No matter, we waited in this odd position in simple, nerve-racking silence. I wanted him to get on with it, and I was about to express such when I heard a slight mumble coming from behind me.

Thap! I could have laughed at the meek attempt to spank me, but I knew better and foreigned a gentle cry of distress. This was going to be easier than I thought. His previous slaps to my backside were harder than this attempt.

He repeated the gentle tap with the other-side of my bottom and I complemented his meek efforts with another slight of distress. It took a few more taps before he started becoming more comfortable, thought barely any more forceful, with his spanks. The speed picked up, which I let him know was having a greater effect on me, even if his spanks felt more like a one-handed applause than anything my governess had dished out.

We continued our little dance for quite sometime, until my bottom felt like I had warmed it in front of nice fire and his arm was sore. I hadn’t really expected it to be this easy and actually became worried that I wouldn’t be able to fake some tears for him.

“OK, I think you’ve been punished enough.” he said, easing me up. Luckily his shyness saved me and he immediately turned me towards his back wall and got up and walked straight to the doorway. With his back to me he said, “Please get dressed and clean up my room. My parents should be back soon.”

By the time I could pick up the blanket and turn around he was gone. I smiled to myself at my good luck. I just wondered if his parents would be this easy to manipulate. Probably.

To be continued…

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.

I wish he was lazier

I sat on the edge of the railing watching the traffic and tourists break my line of sight of it. I could get over its absolute beauty. I had seen many, probably tens of thousands before, but this one was special. The silky glimmer of the highly polished lamb skin leather

All that separated me and it was half an inch of glass, 20 feet of sidewalk, fifty feet of street and another 30 feet of sidewalk. All that and him. He wasn’t actually hear with me after work, but he would know. He always knew.

I chewed my lower lip, contemplating if it was worth it. I had been saving for a year to get enough available credit on my Visa and I finally hit it with today’s paycheck. I doubt he care though. He never cared. Well that is wrong, he always cares, which is the real problem. Sometimes I wish he didn’t care so much. That he would loosen up, be a free spirit, like me. And as a free spirit, I’m going to say to hell to with him and get it.

—-

Convincing myself that buying the handbag was a good idea should have been the first sign. The second sign would have been when the first credit card was denied. The third sign was the paranoia feeling at Tom seeing it laying around the house and asking questions. The third sign ironically was also my downfall. Well not the paranoia itself, but the fact that I left the purse in my car instead of bringing it into the house. Tom, being the diligent husband he is, thought I had accidentally left my purse in the car and grabbed it when he came into the house.

Some days I wish he would be a little lazier.

“Honey!” Tom called from the kitchen when he arrived home. He was home earlier than I expected. Tuesdays were normally team meeting days which prevented him from getting home much before 8. The small digital clock on the cable box read 6:55.

“Hi honey,” I answered as he poked his head into the living room. “Your home early, did you have dinner?”

“Oh, yea. Let me go drop these in my office,” Tom said. He was clearly distracted. Maybe getting home early meant he would have to do some work at home. I always hated it when he had to work in the evenings. No matter, I still preferred him here next to me.

Tom returned a few minutes later, still in his suit, though his tie had found a new residence. The slightly disheveled suit mixed with his piercing stare reminded me of a Polo commercial. My very own model was home, yum. I slide my legs from underneath me in preparation to spring up into my husband’s arms.

“I noticed you accidentally left your purse in your car so I brought it in.”

“Shit!” I thought. My purse was sitting on the kitchen counter, where he had to see it.

“That is until I saw your other purse sitting on the counter. The one in your car just contained this,” Tom said holding up a the receipt.

I knew I was busted. I couldn’t go down this easy though. “It was…was….a…really good deal….” I tried to explain.

“Really?” was all it took for him to break through my pitiful defense.

I really should have thought of a good reason for buying it on the way home. A forty-five minute trip and I hadn’t thought of one good reason. “Sorry?” I squeaked out, standing up as he rounded the sofa. I knew what was coming and didn’t involve me sitting on the sofa.

“I told you last week, we need to cut our extraneous expenses so we can afford a baby.” Tom scolded taking the spot I had just occupied on the couch.

“I know.” I nervously fiddled with the hem of the long t-shirt I wore as pjs. I’d been across his lap dozens of times, but always got so anxious right before the main event.

“You know, then you shouldn’t have done it. This time I’m going to make sure the point hits home. Over my lap!” He commanded as he started rolling up his sleeves. I wanted to think how sexy he looked, but the intensity of his expression scared me a little. I dutifully followed his instructions, draping my torso over his lap and onto the sofa.

There are sometimes when this position feels good, like when he is slowly working those massage oils he got me for Christmas into by skin. He can dance those magical fingers over skin for hours, while I just purr at the wonderful sensations. I doubt I’d be doing any purring this time.

“I think these should come down, don’t you?” He asked rhetorically as I felt fingers slide under my waistband.

“Only if you are going to massage below them.” I replied. A resounding spank to my panty-cover bottom was my answer. “Ouch!” I cried as he lowered my panties to my knees.

“Now I think you are due a good spanking for your behavior, don’t you?”

“Nope,” I smarted off again. This time he responded by peppering my tushy with spanks. “Owe, Owe, Owe!” I squealed. He was being mean tonight and starting harder than normal. Even his bare hand was doing a fine job of roasting my tushy. He worked all around for a good few minutes before starting the lecture portion.

“You,” SLAP! “Believe,” SLAP! “Eight,” SLAP! “Hundred,” SLAP! “Dollars,” SLAP! “Is,” SLAP! “Fine,” SLAP! “To pay,” SLAP! “For,” SLAP! “A,” SLAP! “Purse?” SLAP! Tom loved accent every word of his lectures with a spank, which stung with his bare hand and was horrendous with the belt or paddle.

“No, sniff” I cried, wishing I could reach back and rub my stinging cheeks. I could reach back, but I knew from experience it just resulted in paddle time.

“Then why did you buy it?”

“I don’t know…sniff…I looked so nice?” I managed to get out.

“It,” SLAP! “Looked,” SLAP! “NICE!?” SLAP, SLAP, SLAP! “Well I think we can just settle in there for a nice look spanking until your ass looks nice and punished.”

Tom didn’t even wait for my pleas of mercy before laying into me. And lay into me he did. All I could do was cry into my hands as I tried kicking me legs about a little while the fire built below. Eventually he figured I had enough, or probably his arm just got tired, but he stopped adding fuel to the fire and shifted to lightly rubbing my red cheeks for a minute before asking the question he always did at this point. “Was it worth it, Cadence?”

“No, sire,” I mumbled as he put me on my feet. I immediately started to rub the sting away with both hands.

“So what are you going to do about it?” I looked down at him and thought for a moment. The fire below had peaked and he looked so damn good sitting there in that button down shirt and dark slacks.

“Take the bag back… and make it up to you.”

The last part got him to rise an eyebrow. He opened his mouth to say something but I touched my index finger to his lips. He had his time to act, now it was my turn. I dropped to my knees, dragging my finger off his lips and down his shirt. In no time I had him as equally undressed as myself.

My spanking hadn’t been as much play to him as I would have wished. My tushy hurt yet he was only firm. The later I would change in a moment, while the former worked its self out. With one hand on his balls and one on my clit, I went to town. I suck and licked while fiddling between my legs.

Damn I needed that spanking. I needed that emotional release. I need this sexual release. I need my Tom.

“Get up,” he groaned with the gravel in his voice.

At the moment, I wasn’t sure if my legs would work. Contractions had started running down my quadriceps in time with middle finger. Releasing him from my lips, I grasped him at the hips with my left hand and started to rise. It was an awkward attempt to stand, because righty wasn’t going to leave it’s sanctuary.

I got halfway to my feet when he gripped my hips and hefted us into the air. The sudden acceleration cost me my balance, sending my legs and both hand scrambling for something solid. I found my safety in his burly arms. He stood like an oak tree with me wrapped around his torso and him holding onto my sit spots. The next thing I felt was his tip dragging across my slit, looking for it’s home.

The first stroke was all it took to reach my special space.

He wasn’t happy enough though. Working me up and down himself overloaded my brain. All I could do is moan as he shot a fresh wave up my spine with each thrust. Finally he paused for a moment and shifted one hand to the center of my bottom while the other ran up my back to stop at my neck. His lips locked mine in a sweet embrace. The strokes began again, filling me more and more each time.

“Ahh” I cried into his mouth when he finally hit too deep. Opening my eyes I could see that intensity I loved in Tom’s eyes. I was at his pleasure and would enjoy every bit.

He pulled almost out at my cry. he worked his tip in and out of my opening in a dozen quick thrusts. It was like I was being entered anew each time, and I like the entry the best. I couldn’t help but allow by eyes to fade shut and return to my special space. The last thrust seemed to continuously enter, all the way to my cervix.

“Ahh” I cried into his mouth again as my eyes shot open. He didn’t pull away this time, rather just held me there for a second. Then I felt the pulsations come from him, followed by a hot liquid shooting into me. He didn’t normally cum in me, but the pill made it ok.

He stood there for only long enough to finish before collapsing back onto the sofa. I had no choice but to settle in on top of him. I felt so comfortable and safe, laying on my husband’s body and enjoying the afterglow. Even my bottom felt good, in a warming embrace type of way.

“Honey, you got to quit intentionally getting in trouble just to get spanked.” He said after a few minutes. Damn, I was that obvious.

“Yes honey.” There was no way I was going to stop when sex like that followed. Even the discomfort at the end was worth it. It wasn’t like him to go that deep though. “But why so deep?”

“You haven’t been reading those books you got from the library.” He punctuated his comments with a firm slap to by tender hindquarters.

“Ouch!” I yelped. I looked up, trying to appear apologetic. I didn’t need a spanking now.

“Tst tst tst. I should spank you again for all that flak you gave me for not reading them when you hadn’t either.” My eyes got as large as saucers. We wouldn’t, would he? “But that would result in a bunch of flaying about and you need to lay down now because the deeper the deposit the higher the chance of insemination.”

“Oh.” It took a second for me to realize what he meant. Once I did I couldn’t help but jump into his arms and kiss him. He had gotten the job we had been waiting for.

Willow Groove – Swimming with the Lee Twins

I do not quite have the next chapter of Amber’s Rush Week done yet, so I’ve included another story of the residents of Willow Groove.

6:50pm July 27th 2002

The summer heat was still as fierce as ever. Summer does not last long in Willow Groove, but it does come with a vengeance about the time fireworks light up the sky. The heat quenched all activity that didn’t involve the cool mountain streams and lakes.

John Lee stepped out of the silver Silverado 2500. A fluttering of a bird could be heard off in the woods. Shielding his eyes from the low sun, John glanced looking for the kids. There was a few bags sitting over by a tree, but no other signs of life. Hmmm, where were his daughters at? He meandered on down towards the river.

“Lucy! Laura!” John yelled for the twins. He just made it over the edge of the short ridge when he noticed the clothes. A dozen piles of clothes lined the river bank. What where the kids up to? John thought. Then he saw the two heads bobbing in the river. “Hey girls, come on, let’s go. Your mother was starting dinner when I left,” he yelled.

“Hi Daddy, ok, we’ll be there in a minute. We’ll meet you at the truck.” Lucy yelled back. If Dad went back over the ridge, she and Laura could make it to their clothes, get dressed and back without him being any wiser.

“Oh it’s ok.”  John looked upwards at the white puffs of cloud dotting the blue sky. “I might as well enjoy the day while I’m up here.”

The girls looked at each other and slowly swam towards shore, being sure to keep just their heads above the water line. They both were trying to figure out a way out of this predicament. Their clothes were in matching piles, 10 feet from their father.

“What do we do?” Laura asked Lucy quietly.

“I don’t know. I was hopping my suggestion of going back to the truck would work.” Lucy replied.

At 5 feet from the shore, their hands began scraping against the bottom. Their father had turned around as he stared upwards, so his back was towards the girls. “Run for it?” Laura whispered, trying to stay submerged. Lucy just nodded. The girls stood up, using one arm to cover their breast while the other cupped their pelvic area. They made it half way before their Dad realized they were out of the water and spun around to face his little girls running towards him in their birthday suits. They both frozen in their tracks.

“What the hell are you doing?” John yelled. His little angels had been skinny dipping.

“We were swimming, Daddy!” Laura pleaded as she could feel her face turn beat red.

“Naked!? That is no way for young ladies to be swimming!” John said.

“But Daddy, we are adults. we can swim how we want.” Lucy attempted to be as forceful with her statement she could, but there is only so much confidence a naked 20 year old girl can have while standing before her father.

“You are still my daughters, and I can punish you how I want!” John growled as he strode forward and took a hold of the girl’s forearms. A few tugs and the twins were quickly closing the distance to the pickup.

“Daddy, what about our clothes?” Lucy asked reaching for a few pieces of modesty.

John released the girls and gave each a solid smack to each girls’ behind. “I’ll get the clothes, you get those butts over the tailgate NOW!” The twins scampered up the to truck as fast as they could make the climb. The sticks and stones hurt their feet, but neither thought that would matter much in a few moments. John reached down and picked up the two piles of clothes with one hand and pulled out his knife with the other.

Laura lowered the tailgate on the back of the pickup. She took one last look at Lucy, knowing they both were doomed. Both girls had to stand on their toes to get their waist up on the edge of the tailgate. The both laid on their arms, to give some protection to their breats and prevent them from falling into the crack between the tailgate and the truck bed.

John took his time returning to the truck. He had stopped by a willow tree to cut two, 3/4 inch wide branches off. Maybe this will teach the girls to think before do something dumb.

“Daddy please, we are sorry!” Lucy cried when their father got up behind them.

“Reallly soorrrryyyy!” Laura added.

“No, not as much as you will be. What were you two thinking, skinny dipping? Didn’t you both get three new bathing suits this year? I’m disappointed in you two. You both know better.” John’s voice shifted from anger to sadness.

“Sorry Daddyyy! We won’t do it again!” Both girls cried in unison.

“I know your sorry, but I’m still going to spank you. These switches should work.”

Swish! “AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH” Lucy screamed out. The branch cut deep into the high fleshy part of her bottom. All the little stubs bit beside the band of fire laid upon her wet behind.

Swish! “AHHHHHEEEEEE!” Laura echoed her sister as the switch repeated it’s task upon her upturned behind.

John worked back and forth between the bottoms, exciting a new cry with stroke of the switch. It took only three strokes before they were kicking their legs about wildly. It took 27 strokes before the first switch broke over butt. John tossed off the broken branch and wiped the sweat from his brow.

The girl’s continually cried as the fire just built. They both thought it might be over when the first switch broke, but Laura was quickly corrected when a new line of fire cut low on her butt. A new set of screams where heard as the second switch went to work. This one only made it 21 strokes, but that was enough to cover both girl’s behinds with red and purple welts.

“Put up the tailgate then get in the truck!” John commanded as he tossed the broken switch away and headed for the cab. The twins pushed themselves up off the tailgate and instantly started rubbing their butts. Lucy finally got up the tailgate then followed Laura around to the passenger’s side. They rode in the backseat, kneeling side by side, still as naked as the day they were born.

They arrived home to find their mother just finishing dinner. John pulled into the garage and shut the door.

“Daddy, can get our clothes back?” Lucy pleaded as her father got out of the truck.

“Ask your mother,” was the only thing as he went in the house.

Grace Lee was standing in front of the stove stirring the chicken dish as her two naked daughters waddled into the kitchen. “Why aren’t you two wearing clothes?” Grace gasped upon seeing her daughters.

“Dad wouldn’t give them back,” Laura answered.

“Why would your father have your clothes?” Grace asked knowing the answer wouldn’t be good.

“Well….we were…kinda…swimming and Dad startled us,” Lucy stammered.

“You were skinny dipping?” Grace asked.

“Yeaa,” the girls answered together looked contritely down at the floor. Grace pulled the girls, face first over the kitchen table, exposing their purplish butts.

“I see your father didn’t approve. Well I don’t either.” She reached over for a the bottle of menthol oil sitting next to the table. “I think this will help you remember the importance of your modesty.”

She poured a little bit on Lucy’s left cheek then began to work it around with her hand. “Ouch, owwwe, ahhh, estttts sniff AHHHHHHHHHH! IT BURNS! Lucy cried out.

Grace added more oil then worked it around the other cheek, between the cheeks and down between their legs. When she got done, she let Lucy up. “Go get an old bathing suit for both of you then get right back here! And no rubbing!” She commanded as she went to work on Laura’s behind.

Laura took it even worst than Lucy; eliciting the same cries of mercy, but also bucking around considerably more. Grace ended up giving her half a dozen hand spanks to ‘settle’ her back down.

Lucy returned with two old bikini bathing suits, still unaware what her mom wanted them for. Grace laid the bottoms on the table next to Laura then poured some of the oil suits, completely covering the crotch and back portions. Once the oil soaked in, she handed a bottom to each girl. “You can wear these for the rest of the weekend.” The girls reluctantly pulled the bottoms up their legs and over the tender flesh. The fire from the oil hadn’t let up yet, encouraging their bottoms to wiggle about. Grace then handed over the matching tops. “Put these on then get a t-shirt. I expect you both back here in 2 minutes to set the table.”

The girls scampered off to their room, covering their breasts with the bathing suit top with one hand while pulling back the bottom off their behinds. Grace washed the reminents of the oil off her hands before removing dinner from the stove. “Skinny dipping! Wow.” Grace mumbled under her breath. “For how smart they are, they sure do some dumb stuff.”

Laura appeared in an old high school t-shirt about a minute and a half later. “Where’s Lucy?” Grace asked.

“Ah, I think she went to the bathroom.” Laura replied, keeping up as much of her ‘I’m a repentent little girl’ look as possible.

Grace closed her eyes briefly and shook her head a little. “One day she’ll learn,” she thought. “Well get the table set. The tell your father that dinner is ready,” Grace told Laura.

Lucy appeared just as Laura left to get their father. “I said 2, not 10 minutes.” Grace said as the last dish was set on the table.

“I had to go to the bathroom,” Lucy said in a softer but higher pitch voice than normal.

“And wash your bottom?” Grace asked. Lucy instinctively started to blush a little more.

“No,” She lied. A fresh tear trickled down the right side of her face.

“You know better than to lie to me!” Grace said forcefully. Just then Laura returned with John in tow. “You to start go ahead and start, Lucy and I need to talk.” Grace ushered her daughter back to the kitchen. John took his usual seat at the head of the table, while Laura attempted sit down on only the mid-part of her thighs then braced herself up with the table. The odd, and slightly uncomfortable position allowed her to keep the major portion of her rear end off the seat, while appearing to sit. It was an acrobatic maneuver both girls had perfected over the years. They always seemed to get spanking before dinner, rather than afterwards.

Laura could hear some muffled voices from the kitchen followed by the water running and a little rustling. She took some rice and green beans and chicken, mostly at the instance of her father. She was just bringing the first bite to her mouth when she heard a low swish then a muffled cry. The sound made her jump a little, dropping the food back to her plate.  She instantly knew what was happening in the kitchen, and was thoroughly glad she hadn’t joined Lucy in the bathroom.

The muffled swishes and cries continued at a good pace for the next five minutes. Every cry was a little louder than the previous one, causing Laura cringe a little bit each time. She still managed to get through half of her bowl before her mother returned to the dinning room, sans Lucy.

“Lucy decided to skip dinner and just go straight to bed once she finishes the dishes. Laura, you can join her once you wash these dishes.” Grace said to Laura. “So honey, how was your day?”

Laura just kinda sat there in silence while her parents carried on a typical dinner conversation. She ate, even though she had no appetite. After 25 minutes, her parents finally finished, allowing her to clear the table and wash the few remaining dishes. Lucy had returned to their room well before dinner finished. Bending over the sink caused the bikini bottoms to pull against Laura’s bottom, inciting a fresh burn now there. Twisting was even worst, feeling like another stroke was delivered to her bottom. Laura was lightly crying again by the time she finished the dishes and made her way to her room.

Laura found Lucy was laying face down on her own bed, with her bottom pointing up in the air. Laura took the same pose in the other bed.

“I am NEVER skinny dipping again!” Lucy cried to her sister.

“I agree,” Laura echoed. “Mom wash your mouth out with soap for lying?”

“Sniff. Yea, then re-oiled my bottom before using the chopstick on it.”

“Ouch. Sorry sis. I could hear some of your cries from the dinning room.”

“That was with the soap still in my mouth. Halfway through Mom threatened to put some oil inside if I didn’t settle down. I don’t know how that would have helped my wiggling.” Both girls chuckled at the remark before drifting off to sleep. The swimming earlier had drained all their energy. Of course the events since hadn’t helped either.