Texting cometh before the spanking

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“like 100k” Becky messaged.

“Damn.”

“Yea, McGarretts paying for Europe!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Shes goin die!”

—-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, thank you sir!” Chris said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, I have something in mind.”

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

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

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

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

—-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“50 across her panties.”

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

“22 on your bare bottom will be adequate.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Here’s to you, Mr Franklin

I had wrote this story back when daylight savings time ended back in autumn, but it did not seem to work as well when you set the clocks back an hour as going forward an hour. I had forgotten about it until I stumbled across it yesterday.

“Damn Benjamin Franklin!” Jules thought, washing the last of the dishes from the Lent breakfast. “Why did he have to come up with stupid daylight savings time?” she mumbled under her breath. This common error was just the latest in a series of bad choices for her today.

She sorely wanted to reach down and rub her throbbing sensation which had engulfed her pelvis, but didn’t dare try with her damp hands. She knew from previous experience that getting any water on her light blue satin dress would turn the fabric a dark blue hue. A quick rub was not worth having to explain a dark blue splotch in such a location.

The irony of her thought took a moment to hit her. Here she stood, in the basement of the church, washing dishes while the rest of the parishioners sat upstairs listening to a sermon on God’s grace and mercy.

“VEERRRR” vibrated across the night stand. Jules ventured a single out from the warm embrace of her down comforter. She brought the phone right up to her nose before she could make out who was calling. “Honey!” displayed above her finance’s picture. Even though he had woke her up, she still gave a smile before accepting the call.

“Jules, have you left yet?” Cory said, a little out of breath on the other end of the line.

“Hu…no?” Jules mumbled into the phone.

“Are you still asleep!?” Cory asked.

“Yea, I was just getting up,” she mumbled before pulling the phone away from her ear to see the time “7:02” printed in tiny letters across the top of the display.

“You are just getting up!” Cory yelled through the phone. He seldom used his “wrath of god sermon” voice with her, but the few times he had, she had screwed up royally. “You were supposed to be ten minutes ago!”

“Sorry, I’ll be there as soon as possible,” Jules said, jolting upright in bed.

“Well, please bring a whisk. The one here broke and we are going to need to make another batch of batter before the next service.” Cory instructed her.

“OK, see you soon,” she responded instinctively, focused more on getting out of her PJs and into the shower than the stuff Cory was saying.

“Bye,” Cory said before hanging up.

Jules flew through the shower and the rest of her morning routine. She literately ran out the door 15 minutes after the phone had woke her up, barely remembering to grab her phone.

—-

Jules hated speeding, but the church was five miles away and she was way to late to obey speed limits. Luck was on her side for the first three lights, flying through the intersection just as the light turned yellow. The fourth light turned green a hundred yards before she reached the intersection. She shifted to the left lane to avoid having to slow down for the couple of cars stopped in the right lane. She was going fifty in a thirty-five when she crossed in front of the cop sitting at the intersection.

Had she even saw the cop, she would have swore God had intervened to save her from the ticket, because the SUV in the right lane blocked the cop’s radar detector and the exact moment she crossed the intersection.

Jules pulled into one of the close spots and ran inside as fast as she could in the heels. She found Cory in the kitchen, wrapped in a purple apron, flipping pancakes.

“There you are,” Cory said seeing her flouncy past him.

“Yea, sorry my alarm didn’t go off.” Jules said with a bit more attitude than was needed.

“You forgot to reset your alarm for daylight savings time,” Cory corrected her, as he made a large stack of pancakes.

“Yea, whatever,” Jules mumbled, sitting her purse and coat in the corner of the counter-top. “What can I help with?”

“Well, we are done with the first batch, so you can start making another batch of batter. Grab your whisk and you can reuse this bowl.”

“What whisk?” Jules asked, completely oblivious to Cory’s earlier request.

“I think we need to have a little discussion,” Cory told her quietly before turning to his left and heading towards the pantry located at the back of the kitchen.

Jules could feel her luck run out as she followed her fiance the 10 feet to the pantry. The isolated room acted more like a storage room for extra appliances, dishes and utensils than a food storage location. Cory flicked on the light and locked the door behind them before focusing his attention on Jules.

“I told you last night that it was daylight savings time and to reset your alarm because it would not adjust by itself, but did you listen?” Cory lectured.

“No,” Jules replied, trying to sound sorry.

“And then you forgot to bring the whisk, which I asked you to this morning.”

“Sorry… I will listen better next time. I promise!”

“Well, I think you need a reminder. Why don’t you bend over and grab that lower shelf?” Cory asked rhetorically.

“Please not here!” Jules begged. Her mind was filled with the possibility of someone walking in the door any moment, and potentially seeing her in such a compromising position.

Cory pulled a long slender wooden spoon from a nearby utensil jar and whacked her backside with it. “Yes here, and why don’t you hike up that dress while your at it. It looks nice and I won’t want to damage it.” Cory motioned upwards with the spoon at her waist level.

“Grrr,” Jules grumbled, but knew better than to disobey him. She had been the one to propose this situation a year ago as a way to help deal with her flaky attitude. He had been skeptical at first, and the initial sessions were more sexually frustrating than real punishments. Filling his apartment with smoke because she had forgot about a batch of cookies in the oven had provided him with enough motivation to really punish her. Things had improved drastically in their relationship, which would be culminated in a wedding in two months.

She bent at her waist and pulled the hem of her dress up until it rested around the top of her panties. She continued her downward trajectory until she firmly gripped the wire mesh shelf, about two feet from the floor.

“Ouch!” WACK! “Owe!” Cory peppered her bottom with the wooden spoon, spreading the wacks evenly around the nylon encapsulated globes. The fiery sensation in her bottom grew much quicker than normal, as the nylon seemed to trap the heat in her bottom. It was a new experience in their relationship, and one she would have preferred to read about than enjoy.

WACK! WACK! WACK! “Are you going to listen more closely next time?” Cory paused to grill her after a quick flurry of swats.

“Sniff, yes, I, will, listen, better,” she responded, trying to keep in the tears. Holding back the tears was a hard task with the intensity of the fire in her bottom. Each syllable she struggled to say the word, without breaking down. This focus caused her tone came across as much more flippant than contrite.

“Well from your tone, I see you haven’t learned anything yet,” Cory chided.

“No!” WACK! “OWE! WACK! WACK!

Cory gave her a dozen quick strokes on the lower edges of her bottom, poking out beneath the bikini cut panties. He was about to start lecturing her again when he felt a vibration coming from his pants pocket. It was the timer on his phone silently reminding him to head upstairs and get changed. He gave his handiwork a quick glance, admiring the bright red hue gracing his fiance’s sexy bottom. “Even a man of the cloth is still a man,” he thought to himself.

“I think that is enough for now, we can discuss this further after services are over,” Cory said turning away from her. He was more concerned about hiding the evidence of his impure thoughts than providing her with a little bit of privacy.

The relief by Jules was evident from her loud sigh. She knew this was a temporary reprieve and rearranged herself as quickly as possible to avoid any further discussion at this time. A little flick of her hair and a shake of her hips was all she really could do to make her look normal again.

She stepped forward, lightly brushing Cory’s hand, causing him flinch ever so slightly. He tried to hide the focus of his mind by kissing her lightly on the forehead, as he commonly did when she had done something special. The soft kiss sent a tingle down her spine, releasing the feelings which had been building since the spanking had begun in a semi-public location. The risk of getting caught had triggered feelings which were whole inappropriate for a chaste finance of a minister. “Even a woman of a man of a cloth is sill a woman,” she thought to herself as she gave her bottom a quick rub then followed Cory into the kitchen.

“I need to go get ready for service, you can stay down here and wash up all the dishes.” Cory told Jules, waving the  wooden spoon towards the sink overflowing with plates. He took a step towards the kitchen door, when he remembered the wooden spoon in his hands. He spun around and sat the utensil on the ledge above the sink, right were she would have to see it. “Oh, and lets leave this right here and a little reminder.”