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Johnstern31
New member
Username: Johnstern31
Post Number: 4
Registered: 10-2005
| | Posted on Monday, March 05, 2007 - 08:12 pm: | 
|
hey all, please let me know what you think.
Hearts
Last Friday night some of my coworkers and I were all working far later than was rational. We're all paralegals, pretty recently out of college, and the hours can be brutal. Beth Murphy, the one I know best, came up to my desk at 11:30 while I was proofreading the latest set of comma changes and bullet reorderings and thanking god that I was paid by the hour.
She cleared off a bit of space on my desk and planted the seat of her jeans on it. She looked pretty beat. Her eyes were red-rimmed and her hair was going limp. I was sure I looked similar.
“How's it coming?” she asked.
“Well, almost done with this round,” I told her. “I'm going to try to drag it out til the Weasel goes home so he can't do another round until morning. What about you?”
“Oh,” she said. “Pretty much done. I have some filing to do, but that could wait until Monday.”
“What are doing here then?” I asked her. “Get out of here and get something to drink or get to bed.”
“I should I guess,” she responded, looking down instead of at me. “But I thought... Samantha and Rebecca are going out drinking, and I wanted to know if you wanted to go out with them.”
“After this? I'm not really sure I'm up to drinking with those maniacs,” I told her. It had been a long week, and they were legendary drinkers.
“I'm not staying up all night with them or anything,” she said, a bit defensively I thought. “Just one or two. And if you're there we can help each other escape.”
I thought about it. Beth had been friendly towards me ever since I started, three months ago. I hadn't had much time for more than some interesting chats though, and the joint creation of a list of sobriquets for the attorneys we worked with. Samantha and Joanna had been integral and inspirational additions to that project. One or two drinks? Well, I needed them.
We left the office a little after one. A discussion immediately ensued as to where to go. Our office was in midtown Manhattan. Rebecca and Samantha lived on Roosevelt Island, between Manhattan and Queens, and a real pain in the ass to get to. Beth and I lived about 15 minutes apart in Brooklyn, about half an hour away by cab or subway. The louder voices won out, and we headed to this place Rebecca knew, which was, mirabile dictu, half a block from the entrance to the subway leading to Roosevelt Island.
We waiting outside a velvet rope for 10 minutes. Not my kind of place at all. Samantha and Rebecca were involved in something that seemed to require a hell of a lot of whispering and periodic giggling. Par for the course, in other words. I was about to suggest to Beth that we take off when the bouncer made the whole discussion academic.
He opened the rope for us, but then barred the way. A big beefy guy with a shaved head. He pointed a sausage finger at Beth's legs. “No. Jeans.” he told her.
I opened my mouth to argue before I figured out what to say. I've never once won an argument with a bouncer.
Beth looked pretty crestfallen. “Ah... you guys go in. I'll just go home.”
An idea struck me, and I reached in to my pocket for a 20. I never got to offer it.
Rebecca pushed her way in front and glared at him. She's maybe 5'2, but she's a hell of a glarer. She's Chinese, though born and raised here, and maybe between that and the height or lack thereof people tend to expect quiet and polite. When they were wrong it was either amusing or appalling, depending on how you felt about the person whose expectations and fleshy parts were being trampled.
In this case it was much more the former. “Fat bastard... elitist club... snobby bunch of inbred alcoholics...” A lot of it was pretty contradictory, and hell, she'd picked the place. Watching him look down at her and her pointing finger was like watching a St. Bernard back up a bit from a snarling pekinese. Samantha dragged her off before the guy kicked my ass, but probably only just. The guy was yelling back at her as we walked off. She responded by giving herself one hell of a slap on the right cheek of her tight little ass. That'll learn him.
I walked a bit behind them as we processed up the street. Samantha and Rebecca were laughing their asses off, and when Beth half turned to me I could see a big smile on her face. She's a bit nerdy and a bit shy, and it can't have done her confidence any harm to have someone stick up for her that dramatically, especially if it was one of the cool kids.
Samantha brought the procession to a halt at the subway entrance. Rebecca and Beth were on either side of her, waiting for her to speak. It seemed some sort of consensus had been reached, and Samantha was the messenger. Time for goodnight, I thought, and all in all I can't say I was disappointed.
I've spent a lot of time trying to figure out how Samantha and Rebecca became friends, which they'd been since college. Rebecca I could take or leave, but I like Samantha a lot. She's open to everyone, confident, funny and decent through and through. When the janitor's kid was in the hospital Samantha was the one who went around shaking people down to help out with the bills. When she got Rebecca involved the haul increased, but Samantha was the prime mover. She has that confidence you sometimes get from being good at sports, in her case soccer, and the body of a soccer player who's stopped playing, athletic with a bit of extra flesh.
Now she had her announcement. “Jim, Rebecca and I are going to go back to our apartment. We're going to have a drink or two there though, and you and Beth are welcome to come with us.”
Beth looked an eager invitation at me. I had reservations. “So we'll get there at maybe 2:30, right? It's at least an hour from there home. I may pass.”
Beth looked sad again. Damn I hated that.
Samantha didn't give up easily. “So you guys can split a cab home. You must have made a couple hundred dollars in overtime tonight, plus you saved 20 bucks easily cause the hobo here got us kicked out of the club.”
Rebecca put her oar in. “Or you guys can stay over. Come on.”
I might have been able to argue with Beth and one of them. The three together was way too much. I gave up and gave in.
The subway ride was pretty uneventful. The walk to their apartment, on the other hand, was full of portentous events. A block from the subway Rebecca started to complain about the damage she'd done to her butt with her ill-conceived though well executed gesture to the bouncer. “I think I bruised myself,” she said to the world in general.
Samantha wasn't having any of it. “Liar!” she said.
“Seriously, Samantha. I bet you anything there's a mark.”
Samantha met her smile with one of her own. They both sort of nodded. “Prove it,” Samantha demanded.
The street we were on didn't have the best lighting, and Rebecca dragged Samantha by the hand into a little alley between two dark buildings. Beth and I looked at each other. I sort of had an inkling. Beth looked totally puzzled.
Rebecca faced outward, towards the streets and us. Samantha stood behind her. Then, carefully untucking her blouse and arranging it in front of her, Rebecca lowered her pants. It seemed like Samantha was performing a similar operation with her underwear.
“They're not even drunk!” I whispered to Beth.
Her face was beet red, and her eyes were fixed on the scene in the alley. “I think they were drinking a bit before you finished work,” she told me.
Meanwhile, in the alley... “Where?” demanded Samantha.
Rebecca reached behind her and appeared to point.
“Ha!” shouted Samantha.
“Seriously?” asked Rebecca.
“You want a second opinion?” Samantha responded. “Hey Jim, can you come over here for a second?”
“Okay, okay!” Rebecca agreed. She held the front of her blouse down with one hand, then bent over and placed both hands on her knees. I could hear Beth breathing more heavily beside me. She could probably hear something similar from me.
“Can you do it on the left one though?” Rebecca pleaded. “Seriously, the right one is sore from my whack.”
You couldn't really see what happened next exactly, but you could hear it. WHACK! Rebecca shot upright, her right hand going back behind her. Her left hand held the front of her blouse down, which was unfortunate a bit from my perspective, but on the whole I couldn't complain. “You bitch!” she told Samantha. I couldn't hear the response, but Samantha did bend down to help her lift her slacks and panties back in to place.
The next three blocks were chock full of ass-whackings. Rebecca on Samantha, Samantha on Rebecca, the same again, Samantha on Beth and I and then on Rebecca, a solid enough swat in my case. Beth returned fire when Samantha, suspiciously, bent over to tie her shoe. As Rebecca chased Samantha down a side street I told Beth her shoe was untied. She blushed down to her socks, but it was. She bent over with her back to a wall as she fixed the problem.
A cop car passed slowly as we reached their apartment. “I should report you guys for disturbing the peace,” I told them.
“I've been a BAD girl, officer!” Rebecca said in response, to general laughter. We walked up their stairs with what seemed to me to be a general feeling of bonhomie.
The two shared a two bedroom apartment, furnished thrift store chic. It was neater than I expected, considering the long hours the two worked and their generally less than total commitment to tidiness. This might have owed something to the big chore chart prominently displayed on one wall. Samantha and Rebecca's names were each prominently displayed next to a grid showing various chores and days of the week, with x's and check marks in the various boxes.
Beth and I were bustled to the big round table in the living room and plied with drinks. I took a beer, Beth a vodka concoction. Our hosts went to change.
“They're crazy,” I whispered to Beth as we attacked our drinks.
“I'd say just wild,” she responded. “It's fun though.”
The two in question flooded back in at that point. Samantha was wearing tank top and cut off jeans, Rebecca a belly shirt and pink sweatpants with the name of her college written on the ass, presumably to indicate that it was well educated. I realized at that point that I still had my tie on. I took it off and stuck it in my bag. That's when Rebecca made a point of emphasizing the cards she had in her hand. “Big mistake, big boy. That would have been useful if we end up playing strip poker!”
I probably blushed a bit. I guess I did anyway, cause everyone seemed pretty amused about something. Samantha suggested we play some kind of cards for a bit, and we settled on hearts.
If you've never played hearts before, it's similar to bridge or spades, in that it's a suit-based game played in rounds called tricks. Unlike in spades or bridge, where the object is more or less to take as many tricks as possible, in hearts the object is to not take any tricks containing a heart, each of which is worth one point, or the queen of spades, which is worth 13. If one player takes all 26 points, though, that person gets zero points and the others each get 26. Shooting the moon, it's called. And before most rounds players pass three cards to another player, to the one on their left the first round, the one on their right the second round, and across the table on the third round. On the fourth round no cards are passed.
We played a couple of rounds to a hundred. Rebecca was devious and nasty, Beth nice and careful, Samantha calm and clever. Me, I was concentrating on my drink. I finished third both times. Beth finished first the second time, fourth the first. Rebecca won once and lost once, and Samantha finished second twice.
Beth was yawning heavily by the end of the second game. She'd been hitting the vodka fairly hard. Samantha caught her in one yawn. “You guys are staying over,” she told us, very definitely. We agreed.
“And we should do something more interesting to keep you guys awake,” said Rebecca, half-joking and half-accusing. It was four in the morning for god's sake.
“Strip hearts,” whispered Beth sleepily.
Everyone laughed at that. It seemed like something I should encourage, but I didn't feel up the social complexities of being the one to do it.
“How about a buck a point?” I suggested.
“BORING!” said Rebecca.
I felt a flash of irritation then. Hijack us out to the middle of nowhere, keep us up playing a card game, and then that? Some of the good feeling I'd developed towards her slipped a bit. I thought about Samantha slapping her ass though, and considered it atoned for. Then I thought of her taking on the bouncer for Beth and was mad at myself for being mad.
“Maybe Rebecca has a suggestion then,” said Samantha in an older sister who's been cooking something up with the younger sister kind of way.
They exchanged conspiratorial looks and giggles. “It was your idea,” Samantha told her.
“Well...” Rebecca began.
“Well,” Samantha continued in the ensuing silence, “Rebecca read this story online... Tell them, Rebecca.”
Rebecca followed orders. “It's about this guy and these women. They play poker, but not for money.”
“What for then?” I asked, not sure I was totally onboard with where this was heading.
I looked at Beth to see what she was thinking. As I looked at her she realized something, because she turned beet red, still looking at Rebecca.
Rebecca looked surprised as she noticed Beth's expression. “You know what I'm talking about? I told you, Sam! I freaking told you!”
“I didn't disagree with you, did I?” retorted Samantha.
Beth had somehow, alarmingly, turned even redder.
I was totally puzzled. “Since everyone here seems to know what's going on except me, can one of you fill me in?”
“You tell him, Beth,” commanded Rebecca, with a little snap to it.
Beth stammered her reply. “They play for... for... what Samantha did to Rebecca in the alley.”
“Rollin Hand!” said Rebecca, loudly and triumphantly. Was this some kind of Chinese oath? “We thought we'd shamelessly rip him off.”
“How about it guys?” asked Samantha. “No pressure or anything, and I don't want to burst your bubbles, but it's obvious you guys are in to it too.”
Well, I was rumbled anyway. By the looks of things Beth was too.
“A whack a point?” suggested Samantha.
“A whack a point a round!” said Rebecca.
I didn't like her enthusiasm. Plus it was five in the morning. The spirit was willing. The flesh was too, but it was a little weak.
Beth also looked hesitant, and tired.
“How about we just play a couple of rounds tonight,” suggested Samantha. “We've never done this before either, and I'm not totally sure how well it will work. Everyone's a bit drunk, so if it turns out to be awful we can forget it happened, and I'll paddle Rebecca for suggesting it.”
I expected Beth to run. I didn't know what to do if she did. She surprised me. “So how exactly will it work?” she asked.
Rebecca started to answer, but Samantha cut her off. Probably a little tact was called for. “Well, we thought maybe... the leader puts everyone else over her knee after each round... A spank a point...”
“The loser goes bare-bottomed, Jim!” chimed in Rebecca. Samantha hushed her.
“The loser... well, we thought the person with the most points could go bare, and maybe the third place person could strip to their underwear. Or we could just give extra whacks or something... I don't know... whatever you guys are comfortable with...”
“Bare-bottomed is good,” said Beth, her eyes glowing and her breaths short and rapid. Who was this person?
I swallowed. There had to be a catch somewhere. “Okay for me I guess.”
“Just two rounds tonight,” said Samantha soothingly. “We can figure out tomorrow tomorrow.”
I did some quick mental arithmetic. 26 points a round. Two rounds. That was 52 potential whacks on the table. Wait, 78. This could be really fun or not so fun.
We took our seats again. Beth was to my left, which was an advantage. Samantha was to my right, and Rebecca across the table from me.
Samantha dealt. I loved my hand. I had no real high cards, a couple of low hearts and a hatful of low diamonds. The only problem was I had only the six of spades. That meant that if I got passed the ace, king or queen I could wind up having to play it and take the queen. Usually this meant thirteen points. Under these circumstances it would mean one of my female coworkers whacking my bare ass. There were worse fates, but I would rather be on the other end, and I definitely didn't want to be the first one to take that treatment. I wound up passing three clubs to Beth, leaving me with none. The first round always starts with the 2 of clubs, so if I didn't get any clubs from Samantha I could play any awkward spades harmlessly the first round.
I took a deep breath as I accepted my cards from Samantha. I heard similar noises from Beth and Samantha. Christ! The ace and king of clubs and the ace of spades... It was time to be very nervous.
I took the first hand with the ace of clubs, then lead the six of diamonds. Rebecca took the trick and lead the ten of spades. Samantha followed with the eight. I had to make a decision: Did Beth have the queen? Suddenly it was obvious. She would definitely have given it away if she had. Rebecca or Samantha had it, and since Rebecca would keep it if she got it and would be given it if it were dealt to Beth she was the best bet. I put down my ace with a fair amount of confidence.
Still, it was a nervous moment while Beth fished for a card. She had to look for a different one once she saw the ace. That was a really bad sign. I saw face card, and thought of myself looking at the carpet while Rebecca beat my bare ass. I've never been so glad to see a card as I was to see that she'd played the king.
“You are so lucky!” Rebecca told me. “I was going to wallop you!”
I led my six of spades, trying to draw out the queen to avoid it being played on to another card later. Beth played the jack. Rebecca followed with the nine. Samantha groaned. “Well, it was partly my idea. Lucky I've got some padding.” Out came the queen. Sam raked in her cards and earned her punishment.
She lead a diamond. The rest of the game was pretty straightforward. I dropped the ace of clubs on Beth's next spade lead, and watched her and Rebecca split up the hearts. Both of them got very quiet as they contemplated their haul. I couldn't really tell who had more. Samantha would automatically be last. Which one of the others would get to keep her pants on?
Neither of them made a move to look at the cards they'd accumulated at the end of the round. I turned my two tricks over gladly. Samantha had taken only the queen. Beth and Rebecca waited for the other one to count.
“I'll do it then!” said Samantha. Very carefully she separated the two piles, then flipped them over one at a time, first one card for Beth, then one card for Rebecca. “One spank for Rebecca. One spank for Rebecca. One spank for Rebecca. Ooh, one spank for Beth. One spank for Beth. Uh-oh, Beth. Poor Beth. Oh, poor Rebecca. Rebecca, you deserve that one... Eight for Rebecca, five for Beth.”
The look of relief on Beth's face was plain. Rebecca didn't look unduly upset.
“Who wants it first?” I asked, subtlely adjusting myself as I pushed my armless chair away from the table.
“Beth goes first,” said Samantha.
“Loser has to go sit in the corner,” said Rebecca. “And she has to take everything down first.”
“Second loser has to sit on her lap, with her pants down,” Samantha retorted. I couldn't tell if these were newly created rules, or if they'd been pre-agreed on. Thank god I'd won.
Samantha took herself to the corner. Strangely there was a backless stool in place there already. She didn't even have to reposition it. She hesitated only a second before dropping her shorts and underwear. I got only a brief glimpse of her muscular bottom before she sat on it, but I'd see much more later. Rebecca was similarly proficient in stripping off her pants and taking her seat on Sam's lap. To my surprise and Sam's amusement, she was wearing a thong.
“I thought I'd either win or lose bad,” was her response.
That left Beth and I. She looked nervous, and understandably so. I mouthed the words “We don't have to do this.” She shook her head in response. Then she bent over to whisper in my ear “Hard ones.” Then she reached her face around mine and kissed me hard on the lips. Our tongues tasted each other for only a second before she pulled away.
I heard giggling from the corner as she awkwardly draped her tall frame over my knee. “Quiet over there unless you want extra,” I told the pair sternly. I wasn't sure if this was allowed or not, but what was the worst that could happen? There was some more giggling in response. “And no peeking, unless you want the belt too.”
“Yummy!” whispered Samantha. There was silence from the corner. I felt my belt loop just in case. Luckily I was wearing it today.
Back to the task at hand. I studied my work. It filled out her jeans in a very pleasing way, though it was neither as muscled as Samantha's nor as tight as Rebecca's. It was an old-movie looking butt, so that I half thought I would see chalk rising from it as I spanked it. With my right hand I rubbed and patted it gently. Then I bent down to kiss the top of her head. In response she pulled my left hand to her mouth and kissed it.
“You ready?” I asked. In response she reached up and patted her right bun.
I put my left hand on her back to warn her when they were coming. Whack! She grunted in response, very fetchingly so.
I rubbed the afflicted area. Then...
Whack!
“Oh!”
Whack!
“Ow!”
“This is the last one, Beth, as long as you keep your hands off your bottom until I tell you to.”
“Will I get an extra if I do?” was her whispered response.
The giggling from the corner resumed.
“You will,” I told her.
Whack! Her hand flew to her bottom. I removed it gently, and left a flurry of little spanks in its place.
“Okay,” I told her. She reached back and pulled my hand back to the scene of the crime, and we rubbed it together for a few pleasant moments.
Then I helped her to her feet.
“I get to watch the rest!” she said fiercely.
Who was I to argue?
“Alright, Rebecca,” I told her, trying to sound stern rather than eager. “Bring your bottom over here. You've got a good spanking coming.”
“Eight spanks!” she said, sarcastically. “I'll never sit again!” Sam gave Rebecca a wallop as she disentangled herself from Sam's lap. Which made it nine really.
Rebecca looked quite fetching as she waddled her way around the table towards me, her pink sweatpants bunched around her lap. In spite of her sarcasm, she looked nervous. I was planning to see what I could do to justify that look.
“Don't be fooled by that teeny little butt, Jim,” suggested my bare-bottomed friend in the corner. “She can take a walloping, and don't think she wouldn't give it to you if she had the chance.”
“Quiet over there!” I warned her.
Rebecca stood in front of me now, batting her eyelashes. “Not that hard, Jim. Please, okay? Seriously, my ass is still sore from all the whacks Sam gave me on the way over.”
“Jim!” Sam shouted. “Do not for ONE SECOND believe that lying little bitch. She gets paddled with a bath brush whenever her chores aren't done. Spank her hard! Don't even think about going easy on her!”
Rebecca was meekly but smoothly draping herself over my knee. She practically glided into position, betraying a certain amount of practice.
“One more word, Samantha,” I told her, “And you'll be sorry.”
I turned to inspect the task at hand. Rebecca's pink thong left very little to the imagination. The smoothness of her butt was marred only by small red marks, no doubt from Sam's tender ministrations, and a couple of little blue bruises, maybe from the bath brush. I ran my hand lightly over the surface, then pinched one of the bruises, drawing a musical gasp. Rebecca pushed her butt back in to my hand.
I looked over at Beth, who'd taken a seat for the proceedings. She didn't look overly happy.
Sam, in the corner, was still taking an active interest. “Wallop her good, Jim!” she told me.
“Samantha!” I snapped. She sat bolt upright. “What did I tell you?”
“Busted!” said Rebecca, from her position over my knee. I rewarded her with a firm spank. Her butt was tight as a drum, and made a similar sound.
“Sorry sir!” said Samantha. Someone had trained her well.
“You will be, I'm afraid,” I told her. I considered the problem. My knees were occupied, which would make standing up problematic. Beth was looking eagerly from Sam to me. A solution occurred. “Samantha, stand up please, face the corner, and put your palms flat on the stool.”
She complied, far more quickly and agreeably than I imagined possible. I could really get used to this, I thought, as I got my first prolonged view of her full, muscular rump.
“Beth, since you're not busy, would you mind standing in loco parentis here? Samantha has earned herself ten solid spanks on her bare bottom.”
Samantha for her part waggled the target area with some vigor. I regretted the naughty and shapely burden on my lap.
“You should use the belt on her!” suggested Rebecca. “She loves it, but it's still the only way to make an impression on that big ass of hers.” I silenced her with another solid whack, but not before Sam had made some comments on the ass over my lap.
“Rebecca, you've earned yourself ten more. Samantha, you're up to 15 for that remark. Any more out of either of you and I send Beth for the bath brush.” That seemed to settle both of them down. I resolved to investigate this bath brush business further.
Beth by now had made her way over to her work site. She seemed at a loss as to how to proceed. Samantha grabbed one of her hands and pulled it to the area of operation. She led Beth in a couple of pats to the underhang of her buttocks. “Right there is good, and honestly, you can wallop me.”
Beth's first effort, hesitantly undertaken and lacking conviction, provoked derision from my lap. I criticized the critic with some asperity and a lot of wrist. “Harder, Beth. Put your back in to it!” I encouraged.
The second, if anything, was worse. A naughty hamster would have continued life uncorrected in the wake of such treatment. I decided sternness was called for. “Beth,” I told her. “One of you is going to bend over, stick her bottom out and get 15 solid whacks on her bare bottom from the other one. Which one is it going to be?”
Sam offered further encouragement, and even Rebecca chimed in with only a mildly sarcastic “You can do it!” I rewarded the irony with a not so ironic series of spanks.
In the face of this encouragement, Beth did manage to do somewhat better. Samantha grunted and wiggled as though she were being whipped, which I noted for future reference. As chastisement it was futile, but the sight of bookish, nerdy Beth, her face glowing red, but her mouth fixed in a big grin, spanking the athletic bare bottom writhing under the treatment was something truly to behold. If I'd had one more camera and many less scruples I could have been an internet mogul.
When it was over, Samantha made a show of great reluctance over returning to her seat, pausing first to rub her bottom furiously. Beth seemed satisfied with herself as she resumed her own seat.
The treatment I gave Rebecca provoked what I hope was more genuine discomfort. Each spank covered nearly the whole of her bottom, and each pushed her glidingly up across my lap a few inches before she slid back and stuck her rear out for the next. She acknowledged each with a sound like air being forced from a balloon through a flute, a kind of musical groan. 18 didn't seem like nearly enough to me, though she was panting and red bottomed at the end. She took the hand I'd used on her and pulled it on a tour of her nether regions, visiting all the impacted areas, including those affected second hand, as it were. At length she seemed satisfied and got to her feet with a sigh.
“Thank god I didn't get the queen,” she said. “Samantha, your butt is in trouble.”
Samantha took this as her cue to waddle over from the corner, her hands pulling her shirt down in front. “I call stacking!” she said.
I had no idea what this meant, but Rebecca seemed to. “Come on!” she said.
“I called it,” said Samantha, and this seemed definitive. They'd been roommates for about five years I think. They seemed to have been well-packed ones.
Rebecca turned to Beth. “That means I have to sit on your lap while we watch her get her licking.” Beth, looking at what was essentially Rebecca's bare ass, seemed hesitant. “Otherwise we both get the belt,” Rebecca explained. “That's the rules.”
Beth, whose ability to very obliquely refer to spankings and possible spankings in culture and literature I had long noted, reacted as she always did to the mention of the belt, by flinching and drawing her knees together. She made room on her lap. Rebecca mounted her right leg as though it were a horse and straddled it with a contented look on her face.
Samantha, ready to go over my knee, surveyed the arrangement critically. “You have right buttock access, Beth,” she said. “Don't hesitate if she gets frisky or anything.”
Samantha, like Rebecca, revealed expertise in draping herself over my lap, like a diver entering a pool. I gave her big firm butt a pat in honest appreciation.
“Thirteen, right?” she said, sounding hopeful.
“Well, thirteen from the cards. I may want to recheck my learned associate's work though, as long as I'm in the neighborhood,” I told her, drawing a groan.
“If she bites, I usually use the bristle end of the bath brush on her,” commented Rebecca helpfully, still mounted cowboy style on Beth's leg. This drew a swat from her mount to the aforementioned right buttock. “Sexy...” said Rebecca, drawing a second. “It's like being on a bucking bronco,” she said, miming the action of a rider on a bucking horse and drawing another, harder swat.
Sam pulled my hand to her mouth and kissed it, much as Beth had, and I got to work. I spanked her hard, each whack drawing a quite fetching grunt. By 20 she was kicking slightly, and for the last few she was trying to wiggle her bottom out of the way. “Hold still for this one, Samantha,” I told her after 27. “Which cheek?”
She reached back with her right hand and drew an imaginary x on her right bun, which if anything was the redder of the two. I painted the target redder with a loud whack. |
Buenaventura
Advanced Spanko
Username: Buenaventura
Post Number: 522
Registered: 04-2006
| | Posted on Monday, March 05, 2007 - 11:04 pm: |
|
Johnstern You sir are a pro!!This is wonderful story!!Bring on the nextpart please!!! |
Badgirl
Junior Spanko
Username: Badgirl
Post Number: 89
Registered: 11-2005
| | Posted on Monday, March 05, 2007 - 11:51 pm: |
|
I will never think of hearts the same way again! I can't wait for the next edition.... |
Tammynx
Moderator/Spanking Aficionado
Username: Tammynx
Post Number: 1738
Registered: 10-2005
| | Posted on Tuesday, March 06, 2007 - 11:57 am: |
|
Great story John!! |
Weasel
Spanko
Username: Weasel
Post Number: 211
Registered: 06-2006
| | Posted on Wednesday, March 07, 2007 - 11:46 am: |
|
almost like being there... that was superb! next chapter, please!
Some day you'll spank me... er thank me for this!
|
Johnstern31
New member
Username: Johnstern31
Post Number: 6
Registered: 10-2005
| | Posted on Thursday, March 08, 2007 - 12:05 am: |
|
whoa... thanks, all. i'll have the next one up maybe next week some time. your appreciation means a lot. |
Buenaventura
Advanced Spanko
Username: Buenaventura
Post Number: 530
Registered: 04-2006
| | Posted on Thursday, March 08, 2007 - 07:47 am: |
|
A WEEK??A WHOLE WEEK??? Geez.Oh well guess I,ll just have to keep myself entertained in the meantime..Hmmm where,s that Badgirl??? |
Badgirl
Spanko
Username: Badgirl
Post Number: 102
Registered: 11-2005
| | Posted on Thursday, March 08, 2007 - 07:01 pm: |
|
Fast as fast can be, you can't catch me!
By the way, J, I think good work is worth waiting for...
(A little taunting never hurt anyone...) |
Cheekychipmunk
Spanko
Username: Cheekychipmunk
Post Number: 223
Registered: 05-2006
| | Posted on Thursday, March 08, 2007 - 09:40 pm: |
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Wonderful Story. Can wait for more but don't want to. ;)
"Success in almost any field depends more on energy and drive than it does on intelligence."
Sloan Wilson
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Member's Spanking Stories 