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.

Collections – Conclusion

This story begun with Collections and continued with Collections – Part 2.
The sun was high in the sky when a call from the front desk woke Jerry. It was the clerk reminding him that checkout was in 30 minutes. He told the clerk ok, and rolled over on to his back. The petite naked girl lying next to him half covered immediately brought back memories of the previous night. “Shit!” was all he could think.

Jerry’s mind went into overdrive as he thought about the situation. This case had been one error after another. Last night he topped it off with an inexcusable felony. He considered just walking out, and leaving her there. She’d obviously want to take off, but there would be questions first. Lots of questions, and the authorities might become involved. The staff finding a naked girl with a bruised bottom would warrant a call to the locals at least.

He had to wake her, but how could he get her to escape without directly telling her to do it? Maybe if he acted like nothing happened and just “forgot” to secure her, she’d escape on her own. It was worth a try, he rationalized as he finished getting dressed.

He shook Ellie’s shoulder gently, stirring her from her slumber. “Hmm, AH!” she shrieked in surprise at the unfamiliar man waking her up. She rolled to her left, untangling the comforter from her body as she fell to the floor. Immediately she grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around herself.

At the glimpse of Ellie’s bare form, Jerry turned around, hiding his eyes from her. “Ah, we have to get going,” he said, walking towards the door. The little door hanger caught his attention. Free continental breakfast it read under the image of a plate of pancakes and a steaming cup of coffee. “I’m going to get coffee, want some?” he asked, hoping she’d take the opportunity he was presenting her.

“Ah, OJ if they have some,” Ellie mumbled.

Jerry returned 20 minutes later to find Ellie sitting on the bed, dressed in the same night club clothes she had been wearing for the last two days. Her hair was slightly damp from the shower she had taken while he was gone. The lack of makeup, along with the immature clothes and demure expression made her look young and innocent.

Jerry barely said a dozen words as he gathered his suitcase and led her to the car. She just tagged along like a dutiful puppy as he asked the repair man to fix the tire and at the dinner as he ordered them brunch. The rest of the ride occurred in near silence. Jerry was too scared to say anything which might upset her, while Ellie was more tired from the long trip and not quite sure if she should say something to him.

Four awkward hours later, the pair pulled off the interstate into the industrial area of Tampa. Two quick rights and Jerry pulled up to a barbed wire topped gate covered with black security plastic. A few keystrokes on thee gate pad, open the gate to reveal a small building and a couple of cars.

Jerry pulled around the side of the building where a garage door opened, allowing to drive inside. He got out as the door automatically closed and rounded the back of the car, as was his standard routine when returning to the office with a target.

“Come on,” Jerry said opening the passenger door. Ellie wearier got out of the car then he directed her towards the door.

“Excellent, you’ve found her!” Bill exclaimed in a fake bulbous gesture. Jerry and him both knew that Jerry always returned with his target, but Bill thought such gestures made for good business.

“Lisa!” Ellie yelled, running for the young woman in the business suit. She immediately tried to hug the woman, thought was quickly reminded of the steel bracelets clamped on her wrists.

“Ellie,” Lisa said opening her arms before realizing the predicament. “Ah, can you remove these please. They won’t be necessary anymore.”

Jerry eyed the client and Ellie before following the request. He could see something was different about this case, not withstanding his actions over the last two days.

“Thank you,” Ellie said rubbing her wrists for a moment before embracing Lisa in a big hug.

“So how was the adventure?” Lisa asked, pulling way from the girl.

“Spectacular! It was a thrill like I had never had before. Definitely something you got to try.”

“What!?” Jerry interrupted. This was supposed to be a simple bail jump retrieval.

Ellie spun around on her heels, and cocked her head to the side before addressing her prior capture. “Don’t worry big man, you’re still going to get paid. I even think you deserve that bonus, even thought you missed the deadline.” Lisa held open the Louis Vuton bag she carried, allowing Ellie to pick out two white envelops. She took two steps over and set both envelops on the desk. Jerry was in utter shock, just watching the pre-modonna he meet two dyas ago completely take charge of his own office.

Ellie starts back towards her friend, and the front door, but pauses next to Jerry. She goes up on her toes to whisper in his ear, “Last night was delicious. I wouldn’t mind a repeat this Friday. I can even be a little naughty if you like.”

Jerry’s jaw hung open as he watched the shake of Ellie’s hips as she and Lisa walked out the front door.

A second after the door closed, Bill burst into the highest pitch laughter his 250 lb frame would allow. “What’s so funny?” Jerry asked, dumbstruck.

Bill tossed his partner the magazine setting on his desk. “You didn’t recognize her, did you?”

“No…” Jerry’s voice trailed off as he saw the cover. Ellie stood on the cover in a white Gi, holding up the two gold metals hung around her neck. Below the image read the headline, “From the Jujitsu mat to the board room, Catherine Elizabeth Wentworth takes control of family business.” Ellie wasn’t the little trust fund brat he originally thought, rather the heir to the most powerful family in Florida.

“She played you like a fiddle, man,” Bill chuckled.

Collections – Part 2

This is a continuation of the story started at Collections. The final part will be available on Friday.

 

Ellie spent a restless night, tossing and turning in the king size bed while her mind wandered to what awaited her. The shackle locking her ankle to the footboard didn’t help, as it kept reminding her of her status. The sun was poking into the windows as exhaustion finally overtook her.

 

She awoke to find Jerry unlocking the shackle around her ankle. Her head ached from the hangover starting to take hold along of her still exhausted mind. She covered her eyes, trying to focus on the man towering over the end of the bed.

 

“We have one hour before we have to leave for the airport. You can take a shower if you would like, but the door remains unlocked.” Jerry told her. They had a short jump across the channel to Heathrow then a good nine hours to Atlanta and another short jump to Tampa. By the end of this long day he would be finishing up with this case, and earning a nice bonus also.

 

Ellie gathered up every piece of clothing she had and stumbled to the bathroom. She started to lock the door, when a tingle of pain in her bottom made her think better of it. Instead, she stripped off her clothes, tossing them in a pile on the counter. In a ritual practiced by naughty young ladies for decades, she aimed her bottom at the mirror and twisted her torso to survey the damage.

 

“Ouch.” Ellie mumbled to herself, running her finger over the red splotches decorating her bottom. “That was hmmm…hmm.., not something I expected,” she thought aloud. Her mind went back to last night, the expectations she had when returning to the hotel room, the sudden change in Jerry’s demeanor and then the incident. The mix of emotions filling her head confused her. Embarrassment seemed completely logical, but the curiosity seems, well, wrong. Why was she so interested in such a barbaric act? It was wrong to hit a lady, but now it seemed so exciting at the same time. What was wrong with her?

 

BANG, BANG, BANG! “Hey, you better get moving; cause we are leaving in 45 minutes, no matter how you are dressed, or undressed!” Jerry yelled through the door.

 

The disruption startled Ellie out of her thoughts. She went straight for the shower, hiding behind the frosted glass divider as she peered around the corner, watching for the door to open. Her legs started to feel weak as she waited for her capture to burst into the bathroom. Thousands of thoughts raced through her mind as stared at the door. What would he do? Would he yell at her? Would he haul her out? Would he spank her again? Would he let her get dressed or keep her naked? Would he try to force himself on her? Would he spank her?

 

After what seemed like an hour to Ellie, but was only a few minutes, she relented that Jerry wasn’t coming in to the bathroom, at least in the near future. Turning on the hot water, she started in her daily routine, only to be reminded of the heat below when the hot water pulsated across her backside.

 

Ellie made due with the hotel provided toiletries as she went through her morning routine, pronouncing herself ready minutes before Jerry’s deadline. They took a black Mercedes to the airport. Ellie found it curious they took a town car instead of the Aston Martin, but figured it was just a rental for show and he’d probably returned it before waking her up this morning.

 

At the airport, Jerry led her to a side door inside the terminal. After winding their way through a few bleak hallways, they reached a VIP security checkpoint. Jerry handed over some papers, which the security officer read over, looked at him and Ellie then ushered them both past the metal detectors and into the waiting room.

 

Ellie fell asleep almost immediately upon getting sitting in one of the overstuff chairs. Jerry was glad, because this was typically the time when his targets started negotiate their release. Sometimes he’d humor himself and led them on, and let them think he was actually considering letting them go, even though he never had lost a target. It was a record he was proud of, and the primary reason why he got this higher profile cases with their fatter paydays.

 

The plane landed just long enough at Heathrow to allow a few dozen passengers to disembark and be replaced with new ones. Ellie had fallen back asleep after take-off and her slumber hadn’t been disturbed by the landing. Once they were back in the air, Jerry would be able to relax, and more important to him at the moment, use the bathroom.

 

“Ahh,” Ellie let out a yawn, stretching her arms as she returned to the land of the living. “So, where are we at?” she asked

 

“Over the north Atlantic, about 5 hours from Atlanta,” Jerry answered. The question was odd for a target. It was a perfectly normal question for a person waking up on vacation flight, but unusual for one of his targets. His targets were normally too scared for such a pedestrian question.

 

“Anything good on the in flight movie?” she asked, picking up the headphones in the seatback in front of her.

 

“Not really, just a rom-com and a Disney flick,” Jerry replied, looking at Ellie curiously. There was something wrong, but he wasn’t quite sure what it was yet. She couldn’t escape, even though he had removed the handcuffs after they took off from Heathrow.

 

She plugged in the headphones and played with the dials until the romantic comedy started playing on the tiny TV in the headrest. Jerry looked out of the side of his eye, trying to figure out what she was up to, but for the life of him, he could not figure it out.

 

The rest of the flight was uneventful, lulling Jerry into a false sense of peace. He was beginning to believe she accepted her situation and wouldn’t cause any more trouble as the plane touched down at Hartsfield-Jackson.

 

Without any checked bags, the pair went straight for the customs line. The later arrival time meant there was almost no line. Jerry took the lead when they approached the customs officer.

 

“Name?” the customs officer asked as Jerry handed over both passports.

 

“Gerald Houston,” Jerry answered.

 

The customs officer thumbed through one of the little books. “And your nationality?”

 

“United States.”

 

“What was the purpose of your trip?”

 

“Work,” Jerry said.

 

Ellie immediately added, “yup, just blowing up airports.”

 

Jerry spun around on his heels to face her but his six foot two inch frame did not stand a chance when the marine national guardsman collided with his lower back.

 

“What?” Jerry cried out as he it the floor. A second and third guardsmen surrounded the pair, covering the with their M16s. Jerry attempted to get up but was summarily shoved prone. With his face crushed against the floor, he could hear Ellie giggling over the radio chatter of the soldiers and customs officers.

 

The pair were detained individually for the next four hours as Jerry’s single suitcase was searched and they were interrogated by customs officers, a national guardsmen major, a TSA agent and a pair of gruff looking men from homeland security. Jerry kept repeating the same answers; “I am a bounty hunter. I a court order to retrieve the girl and bring her back to Florida.” And the biggest one, “No, I am not a terrorist.”

 

Jerry was relieved when suddenly the Major entered the interrogation room with some paperwork, including his and Ellie’s passport.

 

“Mr. Houston, your story checks out. You are free to go,” the major said, handing over the documents and passport.

 

“Thank-you. And Elizabeth?” he had assumed the whole job was FUBAR now, but it couldn’t hurt to ask.

 

“She is handcuffed and waiting at the door,” the Major said, holding open the door.

 

“Thank-you,” Jerry said. He followed the officer out through the maze of hallways until he arrived at the exit, where Ellie and a TSA officer waited.

 

Jerry brisked Ellie down the concourses to there next gate, hoping the plane would still be there by some miracle. As with this job so far, miracles were not on the side of Jerry. The waiting area was mostly deserted and lone gate attendant stood behind the counter, typing away at the computer embedded inside.

 

“We are here for flight 169,” Jerry blurted out, slightly out of breath from 2 mile trek through the airport.

 

“Sorry sir, the plane just left the gate. I can check to see if there any seats available on later flights,” the gate attendant said told him, before returning to the computer behind the gate counter.

 

“Yes, please,” Jerry grumbled before glaring at Ellie. There was no question, he was mad and it was all Ellie’s fault.

 

“Hmmm, I can get you on a flight at 9:30 tomorrow morning,” the attendant said after typing away at the computer.

 

“No, that won’t work. It’ll be too late. What about other airlines?”

 

“I doubt it. There was some bad weather come through this morning so everyone had to cancel a few flights. We are all booked solid until the morning.”

 

Jerry growled at Ellie, who wilted under his stare. She knew missing their flight was all her fault and felt bad about it. “Well we are off to the rental car desk,” Jerry growled, yanking Ellie along by her arm.

 

—–

 

“You have the blue Accord. Have a nice trip,” the sales clerk told them handing the keys over to Jerry. He took them and stashed them in his pants pocket before doing the same with the paperwork before taking Ellie by the arm and walking her to the car.

 

He summarily placed her in the passenger’s seat before locking the door and closing her in. A couple turns out of the parking lot and they were on the interstate, heading towards I-75 and it’s path to Florida.

 

The lights of Atlanta faded in the distance as they took the interstate south. He had eleven hours to make the six hour drive and earn the bonus. A bonus that would go a long way in cleaning up some old debts. Worst case scenario, they missed the bonus deadline and he only got his regular retrieval fee.

 

He was making good time, with light traffic and not a cop in sight. They were about an hour south of Macon when Ellie said her first words since the incident in the airport.

 

“Jerry, why are you doing this?” Ellie asked.

 

“Cause it’s my job,” he answered without really thinking about it.

 

“So you are getting paid to take me back to Tampa? What if I doubled it? You know I have the money,” she asked.

 

He let out a chuckle before saying, “How? Your accounts here in the states have been frozen since you fled.”

 

“But I have friends and they’d loan me the money,” she responded with a little more attitude.

 

“No. I think I’ll just take you back and make my fee.” He could only see a payoff ending poorly for him.

 

“Then what could I give you that would make you change your mind?” she asked, pulling the side of her blouse low, exposing a portion of her right breast.

 

“Sex?”

 

“If that’s what you want.”

 

“Na, I think I’ll just take you back.” Jerry tried keeping his eyes on the road, rather than the harlot in the passenger’s seat. She had caused him enough problems already.

 

Ellie puffed out her lower lip while tilting her face downward slightly into a quintessential pouty face. “You don’t find me sexy?”

 

Jerry let out a chuckle, keeping his eyes glued on the dark abyss of highway before the car. Ellie though notice a slight shift he had made in his hips, likely to relieve some tension she thought. Well she knew how to fix that.

 

Jerry was too focused on concentration on driving to realize Ellie undoing her safety belt or twisting around in her seat. It took a second for him to realize what she was doing, allowing her to get his pants open and start fumbling with his boxers.

 

“HEY!” Jerry yelled at her, slapping at her head with his right hand. She had already freed him when he hit the back of her shoulders. The light slap added to her downward momentum, encouraging her to take all of him on the first gulp.

 

Her mouth was even better than he remembered. She held him tight, letting him tickle her tonsils for as long as she could stand. Pulling off for a quick breath, she played her tongue across his tip, never letting him free of her warm embrace.

 

After the multiple sexual laced encounters between the two, Jerry found it amazingly difficult to resist her current attention. He was beyond rock hard and releasing the sexual tension was all he could think about. He would have better served to pay attention to the highway, for he completely missed the slight bend in the highway until the compact car was throwing gravel.

 

Jerry immediately swung the wheel to the left, trying to return the car to the road. Braking would have been a better idea, especially in a car with narrow sideways on its tires. The right front tire caught on the edge of the pavement, separating the tire from its bead, deflating the tire instantly.

 

“POOF! WHAP! WHAP! GREETCCHHH!”

 

The flat tire hit the road, popping the car towards the left lane. Ellie flew upwards, knocking his left hand from the steering wheel and landing across his lap. His right hand grabbed the wheel, and pulled right just as they entered the left shoulder. Correcting the car, he slammed on the brakes.

 

“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING!?” Jerry yelled at her. With a gruff pull of his right hand, he thrust her towards the passenger’s seat.

 

“I’m sorry!” she cried, kneeling on the floorboards and resting her forearms on the passenger’s seat.

 

“DON’T YOU FUCKING MOVE!” he commanded opening his door. He started to stand up when he realized his pants were open. Hastily he stuffed things back in place and got out of the car. With the lack of light, he couldn’t make out any damage on the driver’s side. Rounding the front of the car, the problem became immediately apparent. The right front tire was completely flat and wrapped around the steel rim.

 

“Great,” he cussed. He made his way to the trunk, glaring at Ellie along the way. Getting to the trunk, he realized the keys were still in the ignition. This just irritated him more. Trudging to the driver’s side door, he ripped the keys from the ignition and hit the trunk release on the key fob. He started to toss the keys on to the seat, but rethought it when Ellie caught his eye.

 

Jerry had gotten all the stuff to change the tire when he realized the lug nuts would not come off. This revelation just pissed him off more. He just shoved the jack, tire iron and spare into the trunk before returning to his seat, planning on calling the rental company for roadside assistance.

 

He pulled out the rental paperwork before getting in the car. Unfolding the paper revealed a blurry mess of a document. Placing it in his rear pants pocket had caused it to slowly be impregnated by sweat over the last two hours. Calling the customer service would be impossible when he could only make out the first three numbers; 800.

 

“Fuck! FUCK! FUCk!” Jerry cursed, tossing the rental paperwork onto the dash.

 

“There looks to be an exit up there,” Ellie mentioned quietly.

 

He looked forward, around the corner in the highway to notice a glow beyond the horizon. This part of the state, that amount of light should mean a town. He didn’t seem much other option and started the car and started the slow drive down the shoulder of the highway.

 

A mile down the highway they come to a typical small southern town. Fast food restaurants and gas stations surrounded the exit. Jerry pulled into the largest station and went inside to ask the attendant about the tire. There was no one else in sight so didn’t bother with securing Ellie.

 

“We are stuck here!” Jerry announced returning to the car.

 

“What?” Ellie asked.

 

“The only place in town that sells tires doesn’t open until noon tomorrow.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“OH!? Your little stunt cost me five grand!”

 

“I’m sorry,” Ellie mumbled, trying to act as innocent as possible.

 

“Just shut up and don’t try any more shit!” Jerry growled, backing up the injury car.

 

He made the same slow, careful progress across the overpass to the only hotel in sight as he had down the shoulder of the interstate. Leaving Ellie in the car again, he checked in, explicitly requesting an end room. He quenched the night clerk’s curiosity with reference to Ellie being his new fiancé. Ten minutes later he was pulling the car around the back to the rear entrance.

 

The room was of standard US flair. A small, tile lined full bathroom was situated next to the door leading from the hallway, while mid-height windows lined the far wall. Jerry was slightly annoyed with the single queen sized bed; through he couldn’t really go ask for a different room with two beds.

 

“How deplorable,” Ellie commented, tossing the duff bag Jerry had made her carry in on the bed. “I bet they don’t even have room service.”

 

“Zip it!” Jerry growled at her, pulling the blinds shut. “You’re the reason we are here.”

 

“Whatever,” Ellie’s sassiness returned in full force. “I’m going to take a shower, OK?”

 

“Fine,” Jerry hoped some soap and hot water would clean up her attitude and make the night at least tolerable. A little SportsCenter would also help. It had been nearly impossible to find highlights of good ol’ American Baseball in Europe.

 

Jerry paid no attention to the extended period of crashing water coming from the bathroom. He had secured a pair of his cuffs around the doorbar, preventing the door from opening without first removing the handcuffs, and without an operable window in the entire room, his only worry now was her trying to kill him. Not a likely proposition when he had at least 100 pounds of muscle and a good 8 inches on her.

 

The whoosh of the bathroom door opening pulled Jerry’s attention away from the TV. Ellie stepped into the room, carefully wrapped in a fluffy white towel. The white contrast to her lightly tanned skin, forming a band from mid breast to just below her hips. The darkened ambiance of the room hid most of the explicit details, but Jerry’s mind helped him fill in where his eyes missed.

 

“You sure you don’t want to let me go?” Ellie cooed. She continued her slow prance towards the old man, stopping about four feet in front of him with a cock of her hips to the side.

 

“Yes,” Jerry growled in response. “I’m not letting you go so quit it!”

 

“Oh, quit being such a bitch!”

 

“A bitch? You think I am being a bitch for doing my job?”

 

“Yea,” Ellie responded flippantly.

 

“You think I’m a bitch? You’re the idiot who thought she could run.” Jerry shifted his attention downwards towards the TV. Trailing his eyes down her neck to the towel, he caught a glimpse of a nipple poking above the towel line. Immediately, his mind went back to the events of the club and more recently the car ride. “Unless you’d prefer slut to idiot? It does go better with the stuff you did in the club and the car.”

 

Jerry caught her right arm just short of her palm making contact with his left cheek. In a flash he was on his feet with, towering over the girl. “What are you going to do, spank me again?” Ellie let the words hang in the room for a moment before adding, “fucker!”

 

Jerry pulled her left arm forward, causing her to crash over the end of the end of the bed. Her towel flared away, exposing her naked bottom to the cool room air. In an instant he pulled his belt free of its loops.

 

WACK! The belt bit into her bottom, painting an exceptionally white band which was quickly replaced with an angry red. “Ahhh,” Ellie cried out.

 

WACK! WACK! WACK! Jerry whipped the leather across her bottom, getting an alternating response of groans and insults. Each insult just prodded him into trying harder.

 

Ellie’s bottom was scarlet and starting to blister when he finally dropped the belt. He was still mad, but his arm just refused to swing any more. A shiver of the upturn girl’s hips caused a visceral action in his loins.

 

He dropped his pants and moved between her splayed legs, intend on giving her exactly want she had been asking for. Squatting, Jerry plunged forward, driving into her until his hips bump her cheeks. The sudden intruder forces the breadth from her lungs in a drawn out moan which is capped with a sharp squeal when he bumps into her bottom.

 

He kept thrusting in fast, though long, hard strokes, causing her to squealed each time he hit home. At first it was all raw emotion driving him to fuck her as hard and rough as possible, but as the endorphins started to wan, and pleasure took over, he swore she was pushing her bottom back into him.

 

The force of Jerry’s thrusts slowly pushed Ellie forward, onto the bed. It wasn’t long before he could only reach halfway into her from behind. He grabbed her hips, yanking her bottom into the air and dropped her on her knees. This higher position allowed him to stand up, giving him tremendously better leverage.

 

Jerry wasted no time, and drove into her again while pulling her hips against his. The new angle tightened her pelvic muscles around him driving the sensation for them both to new levels. Ellie reached out, grasping two handfuls of comforter while biting a mouthful as Jerry started up again.

 

Jerry used every bit of frustration, annoyance and residual to pound away at Ellie, but biology can only be held at bay for so long, and a massive orgasm overtook him. He pulled her into his hips as he started to cum deep inside her. This drove her wild, wiggling and squirming from side to side.

 

The added stimulus at the height of his orgasm was too much for Jerry to handle. His vision started to fade, and motor skills failed. He slumped forward, onto her back before rolling to his right. In one last effort, he reached upwards, his left hand grabbing Ellie around the stomach while the other locked onto her left breast. As he rolled off the girl, he spun her around, ripping her grip on the comforter and landing with her in the reverse cowgirl position.

 

With the new position, Ellie didn’t stop her squirming, bouncing about on him. This was all it took for him to fully lose it.

 

Jerry woke a few minutes later to find Ellie slumped into a naked pile next to him on the bed. At first he thought she might be dead, but the clear rise and fall of the side of her chest alleviated those fears. After a quick piss, Jerry collapsed back onto the bed, hopping he would wake up alone.

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.

Jacuzzis at Josei no Kiritsu

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You owe us 28 points!” Rachel proclaimed.

“Double down?” the brunette opponent asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Grrr,” the brunette growled.

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

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

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

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

“True.”

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.

Yobun’na supankingu

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

Stacey knocked tentatively on the Dojo’s door. When no one answered, she knocked again, then tried the handle. The door was locked. Maybe Sensei Hirsha forgot, she thought hopefully. She started to leave when a neon pink sticky note on the floor of the alcove opposite of the door, caught her attention. Picking it up, the first word dashed all hope of a reprieve.

“Student, Fold clothes neatly and stack them beside door. Seiza on your clothes with nose against wall until I arrive. ~Hirsha”

Glancing up and down the hall, she was slightly relieved to see no one around. The little alcove by the door would hide her so long as no one walked down the hall. It would also provide some cover while she undressed, which was a horrifying thought. Someone walking by while she was half undressed was somehow much worst to her than stripping in the locker room and walking her naked. Slipping off the shoulder straps, she quickly wiggled the dress and panties together over her hips and into a pile on the floor. She took another peak down the hall before hastily folding into eighth and setting it on her sandals next to the door. With her panties hide inside the folds of the dress, she knelt down into the seiza position and waited.

Stacey had been waiting in the prescribed position for forty-five minutes when Sensei Hirsha arrived.

“Come girl,” Hirsha told Stacey as she unlocked the door. Stacey gingerly

“Seiza”

“You don’t listen. You bad girl. Yoga positions important to Jujutsu because they make strong core. Strong core, makes you good at Jujutsu. Understand?”

“Yes, sensei,” Stacey wasn’t sure what else to say. Jujutsu was all about having a strong, solid core stance from which you could strike, throw or deflect.

“Good, you learning. Now you learn more. First supankingu. Kowtow.” Hirsha told her student as she rose to her feet.

Stacey bowed forward, until her head touched the floor and her hand lay flat before her. While Stacey had never been to a Yobun’na supankingu before, she had a general idea what would happened, and it ended with her sleeping on her stomach.

“Lower,” Hirsha commented when she returned from the cabinet in the corner. Stacey reached farther forward and tried to get her chest lower to the floor. Her breast had been touching though now they were crushing under her weight. The shift had the effect of curving Stacey’s spine, providing a more pronounced target for Hirsha.

Hirsha knelt to the side of Stacey, so that her right hand had ample access to the derriere she had striped earlier. “No move or we begin supankingu again.” Hirsha instructed, brushing the leather and bamboo paddle across its target.

“Yes, sensei” Stacey said with a sigh.

The paddle fell like the spring time rains of Hirsha’s hometown in Japan. Tradition said Yobun’na supankingu was to be carried out in three parts, with the first part consisting of three minutes of a light, fast spanking. This was how Hirsha received Yobun’na supankingu when she was much younger and now how she taught her students.

Stacey maintained quiet groans as the sting of every individual swat merged together into one painful sensation. As the paddle fell, the tension in her shoulders and clenching of her lower cheeks grew. Every so often the paddle would wrap catch her at the intersection of her thighs, spiking her senses into releasing a yelp.

Hirsha stopped after counting to 180 silently. At about one swat per second, the 150 or so swats had created the desired even pink glow across the student’s bottom and the very tops of her thighs. The tramlines from this morning’s practice had mostly disappeared into the general coloring. Hirsha had learned the advantages of the first part of Yobun’na supankingu when she was a beginner like Stacey here. The quick, fast spanking would break up the swelling and scar tissue caused by a cane, allowing the bottom to heal much quicker, even if it was just as painful overall.

“Enough supankingu, now we fix mistakes.” Hirsha said to her student’s visible relief. Stacey’s shoulders slumped while the high and the tight globes she had presented Hirsha, returned to their natural relaxed state. “Stand up.”

For the next twenty minutes, Stacey was asked to perform every technique Hirsha had ever taught her. She sailed through the novice level techniques, showing perfect form every time. The beginner level techniques where not as well ingrained into her muscle memory and tripped up a couple. She was only slightly surprised when three searing swats landed on her backside when she made the first mistake. She was more surprised that after the reprimand, the sensei showed her the correct form, then walked through every motion with her multiple times before expecting her to preform it independently again. Out of the three dozen techniques she knew, less than half a dozen required any correction.

“Good, good. Now we end with reminder.” Hirsha said. “Get in downward dog.”

Stacey sighed deeply, instantly knowing her punishment was far from over. She’d been in enough of Hirsha’s classes to know the sensei only had students get into that yoga position before they were to be caned. The prominence of the target area made the position perfect for a caning, if a little embarrassing.

She watched Hirsha go towards the cabinet in the corner before resigning herself to another session with that evil rattan rod. Getting onto her stomach, she pushed herself up into a plank then shifted her shoulders backwards, thrusting her bottom upwards and into downward dog.

“Now reminder to always do good. You get three with big cane. No move or I start again.”

Stacey took a deep breath before answering “Yes, Sensei.” The clenched her jaw, bottom and eyes, waiting for the way to familiar sting to return.

Stacey originally thought she had been shot when the heavier rattan cane bit into the crowns of her cheeks. Her popped open and her lips parted as the breath was forced from her. Tears clouded the floor as she gasped a deep breath.

The second slice was worst than the first. Hirsha lowered her aim, landing across the junction of thigh and cheek. Stacey’s voice returned with a high pitch squeal followed by quick chants of ow mixed with sniffles.

Hirsha landed the final slice a quarter-way down from the top of the thigh.

Stacey broke her chanting to squeal again before returning to the mixture of ows and sniffles.

Hirsha set the tip of the cane on the floor and leaned gently on it while she waited for her student to regain her composure. The “reminder” portion of Yobun’na supankingu had always been the hardest on her, and it was the same way for her students.

“Ok, stand up.”

“You have completed Yobun’na supankingu. You feel more disciplined?”

“Yes Sensei,” Stacey responded without thinking what a dumb question it was. She’d just been put through a half an hour of spanking. Of course she would feel disciplined.

“Good, you more disciplined now. See you in class.”

—-

As Stacey laid in bed that night with her battery-powered friend in hand, she couldn’t get Sensei Hirsha’s words out of her mind. “You more disciplined now” repeated over and over, distracting her from her carnal wants. She eventually gave up on her little friend and instead practiced her techniques into the night. As she practiced into the night, all she could think of was being the best and making her sensei proud.