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?”


“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!”

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…

Mommy ate all my candy

“DADDDY!” Julie cried as my little girl rounded the corner and she went straight for my legs. She was normally happy to see me when I got home from work, especially on a Friday, when I would get home early. Tears though were unusual. I dropped my suitcase as two little arms encircled my thighs.

“Whats wrong?” I asked, scoping her into my arms.

Her little arm whipped away a few tears before blabbering, “Sniff, Mommy ate all my candy!”

Eating 5 pounds of candy in one day didn’t seem like Emma. Eating that much candy was even much more me and I had the sweet tooth between my wife and I. She preferred the really expensive dark chocolate to Skittles and Reece’s. The only time I remember her eating any kids type candy was during come of her crazy cravings when she was pregnant with Julie.

I carried Julie on my hip and followed the sound of the TV in search of some answers. Emma was sitting on the couch working on her laptop while watching a cooking show. “Honey, why does Julie think you ate all of her Halloween candy?”

“I didn’t eat all of her candy. It’s in the cabinet above the fridge.”

“But…but…you said you did!” Julie cried stuttered through her sniffles. Her little tear stain sleeve and puffy little eyes were pulling at my heart strings. She was daddy’s little girl and we both knew what that meant.

“I know, and I’m sorry. I didn’t eat all your candy.”

“But…” Julie’s mind hadn’t quite comprehended the prank and I knew it probably wouldn’t until she saw her candy safe and sound. With a glare at my wife, I took Julie back to the kitchen to find her long-lost candy.

The big green bowl of sweets had been exactly where Emma had said. I had to set Julie on the floor so could get it out. I brought the bowl over to the counter and Julie hopped up on one of the bar stools.

“MY CANDY!” she yelled for joy upon seeing the bowl was full. No sooner had I let go, than she pulled the entire bowl tight towards her body and hugged it with all her might. I was about to tell her that she could have one piece when I noticed her broad smile had disappeared. “I think some is missing,” she said, crunching her eyebrows like she was trying to figure out a mystery.

“Hu? It looks all here to me.”

She started fishing around, looking for something. “But all the Reece’s are missing.”

“Are you sure? They are probably just on the bottom.”

“Yea, they are all gone,” she said nodding her head in confirmation. “Ah, its OK, I don’t like them,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders then went back to admiring her stash.

I allowed her to take one piece before I returned the bowl to it’s normal spot on the counter. It was within her line of sight, but generally outside of her direct reach. I sent her off to play so I could find out the whole story of what happened this afternoon.

“So why did you hide Julie’s Halloween candy?” I asked, slouching into the recliner.

“Oh, there is this contest online about the best reaction of kids when the are told that their parents ate all their Halloween candy. Julie’s is great. You want to see?” Emma started to turn around her laptop but I cut her off.

“No, not really. You put our daughter in tears for some dumb contest?”

“Oh she’ll get over it. And the grand prize is a $10,000 college scholarship. Anyways she was pestering me about eating that stuff all afternoon after I told her she could only have one piece after lunch.”

“She’s four and Halloween was yesterday. Of course it is all she can think about. It was still mean.”

“She’ll be OK in a little bit. She probably won’t even remember by bedtime.” Emma said dismissively.

She was probably right. Hopefully Julie will have forgotten about the whole episode by bedtime. I doubted Emma would be so forgetful come bedtime. I got up and started towards my office. I paused behind Emma’s spot on the couch and leaned down to whisper, “Hopefully, but I doubt you’ll be forgetting it come your bedtime.”

A shiver went down Emma’s back when the words hit home. She pulled an annoyed face at me before returning to her laptop.


Dinner and TV time passed as if nothing had happened. Julie was her ultra-cheery self and didn’t even mention anything about her candy until I was ushering her upstairs for bedtime. Emma and I switched off bedtime duty with me getting the easier Friday/Saturday/Sunday set while she took the other days.

“Daddy?” Julie stopped on the third step and looked at me all serious.

“Yes, baby?” I knelt on the first step so we were roughly eye-level.

“Can I take my candy up to my room so Mommy doesn’t eat it again? I promise I won’t eat any!” She bangs bounced across her forehead as she nodded furiously, as if it would help convince me.

“Mommy won’t take any of your candy. I’ll guard it for you.”

“You promise?” she held up three fingers on her right hand in a tiny mock scout’s sign.

“I promise.” I said mimicking her.

“OK.” She paused for a moment before adding, “mommy can have the Reece’s, I don’t like them. Oh, and those sour ones. Yuck!”

I could barely prevent myself from laughing at the sour face she made. “OK.” She padded off up the stairs, her teddy bear dragging behind her. I followed her upstairs, helping her go through her bedtime routine before tucking her and providing a reassuring kiss.

I was just about to turn off her room light when she said, “Don’t forget you promised.”

“I won’t,” I reassured before leaving the room a glow in the princess nightlight and closing her door.

I spent the next half an hour rummaging around the master bedroom and my office, finishing up a few odds and ends from work before checking on Julie. I peaked in to find her lightly snoring away. She may not have gotten Emma or my personality, but she did end up with our allergies. The benadryl would get rid of the congestion soon and keep her out well into the morning.

Emma was back working on her laptop when I returned to the living room. “A little girl didn’t forget about her candy getting stolen today. You think a big girl needs a reminder also?”

“No,” she said ruefully.

“I disagree. It was a very naughty thing to do.” The implication hung heavily between us.

“But… was for her college fund!” Emma look up at me with huge doe eyes.

“It doesn’t make it any less naughty. And not telling her immediately afterwards was extra mean.”

“I now,” she conceded. “But…but… she was annoying me.”

“And now you are annoying me. It’s time you get your hiney upstairs.”

“But, Julie will hear!”

“Benadryl will prevent that, but if you are still concerned about waking her, I know a pair of panties which won’t be needed.”

The last part silenced anymore protests. Emma hated it when she was made to chew on her panties, but we had found them to be extremely effective when needing to conceal her cries of pain, or pleasure. The panty gag coupled with a Teflon spatula worked as a very effective combination since Julie had been born.

With a pout, Emma closed her laptop and stomped upstairs. That little act of defiance would earn her a couple extras. Extras were an odd concept for us, since I never used a set number of spanks, rather just going until she was appropriately punished.

I gave her a few minutes to get ready before switching off the TV and joining my wife in our bedroom. As was customary, she changed into just a baby-doll nightie and planted her nose in the open corner by our bathroom. The corner-thing was something she added to this little ritual shortly after we got married and I still have no idea where she got it from. I find it cute, and appropriate, so I have never pressed the issue.

I left her there while I made a few final preparations. I fished our tawse out of my underwear drawer and moved a few of the decorative throw pillows into a stack at the end of the bed. I originally was mad when Emma bought those overpriced decorations, though now she regrets the purchase since I found a practical use for them.

I slipped the tawse into my back pocket then slipped behind Emma. “I think it’s time we got down to business.” My whisper sent shiver down her spine. I took a step back, smiling as I watched my beautiful wife close her eyes and take a deep breath as she mentally prepared herself. Without a word, she shuffled her feet over to the bed and gracefully draped herself over the stack of pillows. Her nightie rode up in the back, offering up her creamy bottom.

“She is can be so damn sexy. I’m going to have a taste after I get done,” I thought to myself. “But that would have to wait.”

I slipped the implement from my back pocket and took up position to her left. Normally with a punishment spanking I would start immediately with the implement of choice, and this time would have been no different had I realized something was missing. In particular her panties were missing from her mouth.

Shifting the tawse to my left hand, I started with a few dozen easy hand swats, imparting a nice pink hue to her normally khaki complexion.

“Forget your panties?” I asked rhetorically.

“Grrr…they are in the hamper,” I could tell from the tone of her voice that she didn’t want to tell me, but knew better to disobey.

She’d hide the pink, bikini-style panties inside the jeans she was wearing today. I unballed them and made sure they were inverted before I allowed her to bite down. Honestly, they were more symbolic than practical, especially since most of the garment resided outside of her actual mouth. Only the gusset was actually inside, but having that small bit of material to bite was all that she required to stop from crying out.

“That’s better, now we can begin.” I commented, getting back into position. I held the strip of leather behind her bottom, taking aim but careful not to actually touch her. I wanted the first one to be a surprise. I raised the tawse high over my right shoulder and brought it crashing into her bottom. Her moan told me I had hit the proverbial nail on the head.

The next swats were quicker and less forceful, but paced after 10 seconds or so to allow her to fully absorb the sensations imparted by the tawse.

After a half dozen swats, she was starting to wiggle her hips about, clearly feeling the sting. At a dozen, the bending knees and pounding fists joined her antics. At two dozen her sniffles were added to the mix. At a three dozen she had given the on the fussing about and relaxed into muted sobs.

I admired at my handiwork in painting those two globes crimson. My portrait of contrition was quite complete yet, but wanted to let my work simmer a little bit before I finished. It offered her a chance to settle down while thinking about how she got herself into this position. I particularly wanted her to think about the poor taste of such a prank.

Waiting until the sobs had dissipated, I bent directly over her back, allowing my jeans to brush against her tender bottom. She wiggled her hips in a mixture of avoidance and enticement. I slipped the panties from her lips before asking, “Are you sorry?”

“Yes, sir…” she responded with vigor than someone should have after a dozen with the tawse. A slight wiggle of her hips told me more than any words spoken.

“I think a couple more are needed.” She groaned at the proclamation, but didn’t say anything. I slid my hand down her back as I stood back up, letting finger tips linger at the crown of her left cheek. “Remember, don’t cry out,” I taunted.

I stepped back and laid the tawse across the center of her left cheek and let it hang for a second. I waited for her to suck in a breath before I brought the handle straight back then quickly forward in an upwards arc. The the lower of the two tails caught her exactly where I had intended, a the junction of left buttock and thigh. The swat took her by surprise and I’m sure it took all of her strength not to cry out. I waited for her wiggling to die down before repeating with a backhand swat to her right side.

Emma took a minute to regain her composure be from the last blistering swats before I could help her up. Like always, once she was on her feet she instantly locked her arms around me in a tight hug, burying her face into my chest while I lightly kneaded her bottom.

“What you did was mean.” I told.

“I know.” she said ruefully. “I’ll make it up to her in the morning. I just had such a bad craving for Reece’s this morning. Then after eating them all I worried about what Julie would say. Then she was bugging me for some and I saw the contest online and I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“A craving for Reece’s?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeaaaa….” she said with a roll of her eyes. There was only one reason she craved Reece’s.

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.