Apartment 604

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Sharon froze after raising her hand to rap on the door to 604. She stood, as if waving to a passing train, then closed her fist bringing her knuckles to bear. Holding her breath, she pulled back, ready to knock, about to knock, then dropped her hand. For the third time. Jesus, she thought sighing, I’m pitiful.

Leave it. She should just leave it, she knew that. It wasn’t worth that much; cost her a few bucks and she could get another easily at any hobby store. It was just a kitschy piece of home décor to be painted. They had dozens in different sizes. She should just leave it. Not like she needed it. Well actually she did, it seemed. That was the problem. But it wasn’t like she…

Her self-flagellating reverie was interrupted by the door opening suddenly. Sharon jumped and squealed-pulling an answering gasp out of Tina who covered her mouth with the hand not on her doorknob.

“Jesus girl!”, she said when she composed herself.

“I know, I know…I’m sorry”, Sharon composed herself. “I was just gonna knock.”

Tina’s hand moved from her mouth to her chest as her breathing settled. “Ok…I’ll live…whew.”

“Yeah…”

“Haven’t seen you in a couple of days.”

“Right…” Sharon said not wanting to make eye contact. “I’ve been keeping a low profile.”

“Hitting the books?”

“Trying.”

“Ah. Well, I was just running down to the shop for a coffee. Join me?”

Sharon grinned and shrugged. “That’s where this all started, right?”

It was less than a month ago that Tina had introduced herself down at the coffee shop. Sharon had noticed the older woman in the building and, new in town, was happy to sit and have a coffee with her. Truth was, Sharon had seriously underestimated the value of her circle of friends and family back home and, never having lived alone, the strange city had left her more than a bit unsettled. Likewise, she had overestimated her ability to make new friends. It was not something she’d had to do a lot of, coming from a small town where everyone knew one another.

Tina wasn’t quite old enough to be her mother, but certainly at least ten years, if not fifteen, her senior. Of course she would join her. She was anxious to spend time with any smiling face that wasn’t a waitress or barista or someone that was paid to be nice to her.

Over that month, that first coffee had turned into another, then another. Then a lunch, then a visit to a museum to see the Monet that was touring the country. Then a dinner. Tina, a too-young widow, was unhappily used to living alone but had a large circle of friends some left from her marriage, some from work, so she was easily able to absorb the girl into her retinue.

“Yes, I guess it did. You were coming by to…”

“Oh, yes. I left my…” her voice trailed as if she was out of air.

“You bolted in a bit of a huff. Let me a half glass of wine to drink.”

“I’m sorry about that…”

“No, I’m sorry. About how I reacted.”

“It’s OK”, said Sharon, her eyes still scanning the floor.

“When you said you wanted me to…”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not really”, Tina said apologizing with different words.

“You laughed at me.”

Tina said nothing, hearing the hurt still in the younger girl’s voice. She regretted laughing of course. Was sorry as soon as she did it. She didn’t find the request funny exactly. She was startled and laughed to cover her surprise, not realizing how unintendingly harsh it seemed until later. She had been contemplating plans to make it up to her somehow.

“I was going to return it”, Tina said retreating into the apartment. “Come in, come in…” Sharon closed the door softly behind her. She came fluttering out of the living room holding the paddle by the flat end instead of the handle, meaning to hand it off. “I just couldn’t see how I’d look walking down the hall to your apartment carrying a paddle. Would seem obvious, don’t you think?”

Sharon took the board and shrugged. “It’s not really a paddle until it is, you know? It’s just a decoration. Like any piece of wood hanging on a wall.”

“You think I could have passed it off as a cutting board? I don’t think so. I might have been unfamiliar with the idea of…giving a paddling, but I do know what they are.”

“Yes, sure.  Anyway, I’m sorry to have put you in that position. I don’t know anyone-my Mom’s not here, my sisters, my roommate who used to help keep me in line….” Her voice was rising and seemed on the verge of cracking.

“Quit apologizing. It was not your fault. Here,” she guided her to the end of the couch with a soft touch on her arm. “Sit. Just sit.” She took her own seat at the other end, an expanse of gray cambric between them. Sharon’s eyes stayed downcast toward and beyond the paddle which lay across her bare thighs. When she looked up, Tina could see that her eyes were full and could imagine them itching. Then the girl blinked and a single tear, released, rolled down her cheek.

“I’m…I’m just at the end of my rope”, she said wiping at it and pushing her hands through her mousy blond hair. She took a couple of deep breaths.

“Thing about the internet, you can research anything”, said Tina. “I certainly know a lot more about, what-corporal punishment? paddlings, spankings, than I knew when you brought it up.” Sharon was average height, and lanky. When Tina first saw her in the shop she was put in mind of a young colt, trying to settle into it’s body. From across the shop she had looked confident that day, bending to inspect the sweets in the case caring nothing about anyone who might be ogling her backside that was cupped by the short shorts that she always seemed to wear, even now.

It wasn’t until later, after Tina had asked her to her table, that she noticed the fine cracks in her cocksure façade. Up close, Sharon was younger than she appeared and more delicate than she had put on. That perceived vulnerability was what attracted Tina to her, but in a different way than Sharon might have thought.

“Look, I’m not going to apologize any more, but if you ask me again, I’ll be better. I’m more relaxed about it.” More, yes, but not completely. Truth was, saying it made her nervous somehow-or maybe excited. But there was something tickling the pit of her stomach.

Sharon’s dewy eyes focused. “Really? You’ll do it?”

“Yes”, Tina said definitively as if trying to convince herself. “If that’s what you want.”

Sharon, becoming more animated, stood. “Yes. Yes I do.” She looked around as if planning the next move but already knew what it was. “I’ll kneel on the couch here”, Sharon said, “and lean over the back.” She handed the paddle over, handle first. “Let me get my shorts off.”

Tina’s heart skipped at that. She wasn’t a gym person and except for movies and obviously her spanking research on-line recently, she hadn’t seen another woman’s bare anything since university. Seeing Sharon so eagerly unsnapping her shorts unnerved her and she rose quickly to get behind her. Better just to see her bottom, she thought in some strange logic.

“And you can decide which side is best for you…” Sharon said eagerly, choreographing her scene.

“Well, I’m right handed so…” Tina said holding the paddle in that hand and patting her other palm. The feel of the wood stung her hand. This could hurt!

“OK then, you’ll be on that side…” The girl unsnapped her shorts and carelessly rolled them down wrapping her panties together in the same bundle. She bent to step out of them, first one leg, then the other. And as suddenly as that, there was a half-naked woman in Tina’s apartment. She watched her kneel on the couch and bend slightly forward, arching her back. She crossed her arms and lay her head on them.

Like the rest of her, Sharon’s bottom was thin and angular but the cheeks were well rounded and firm as she presented herself. The room was suddenly small and warm. Tina, tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, reached out tentatively and lay a hand on the girl’s hip. The velvety smooth skin was cool to the touch. She pressed slightly and Sharon, reacting, repositioned her backside slightly. The girl kept her legs chastely together revealing nothing but Tina couldn’t help gazing at the confluence of lines and curves, knowing what was concealed there.

“How many smacks?” Tina asked.

“Fifteen, I think”, Sharon said lifting her head and looking back over her shoulder. “I’ll count them off.”

Tina had thought five or six. “You ready?”

“I better be, huh?”

The paddle seemed oversized as Tina pulled back but, keeping her eye on the target, she swung firmly and connected soundly across both cheeks with a loud “CRACK!” Sharon gasped and choked “One!” At the second, she straightened slightly so that her bottom seemed to retreat from the paddle. “Two!”. Tina swung while the girl was upright connecting hard with the soft, slack flesh. “OW!”, cried Sharon. “Three!”

Sharon was breathless from the pain. Any thought she had of stoically taking her punishment was shattered. She tried to remember the last time her roommate had spanked her-it was with a paint stick as she bent over the desk in their apartment. It stung for sure but nothing like…”OWW! FOUR!”…and she wasn’t giving her a break-no pauses, not…”OW! FIVE!”. Sharon suffered through the middle swats waving at each blow, sticking her bottom back then straightening, as if driven by each swat. Sometimes Tina allowed her to reposition sometimes not. Should she ask her to stop? How could she do that after…”OWW! TEN!”

Sharon shifted onto her left knee and turned slightly as if trying to shield her bottom from the next blow. Tina paused and leaned forward with her free hand, again touching her hip-the opposite one this time. She patted her back into position. “Come on”, she said. “Only five more…” The girls bottom was mottled with a heavy blush on both cheeks and heat radiated as from a brazier. There was a red line traveling bottom to top along her crease. “This has to hurt”, she said soothingly.

“Oh, it does…It does…”

“Good then. Hopefully this will be what it takes to get you to crack the books and pay better attention to your studies”, she said affecting a stern voice with a slight smile that the girl couldn’t see.

Sharon righted herself and pushed her butt backward. “I need this”, she said snuffling slightly.

“I know you do…”

The next five swats were only light in the context of the previous ten-not to strictly punish, but to drive the point home. They smacked loudly; Sharon jumping and counting each. At “FIFTEEN!!” she crumpled to the side and sat on her hip, taking her bottom out of range.

“Jesus!” she sighed rubbing what she could reach. Her face was wet and she wasn’t shy about what she was showing as she sat there. It took Tina a moment before she allowed herself to see what the girl was presenting below her flat belly.

She placed the paddle on the side table and sat beside Sharon on the couch. “Here”, she said taking her shoulder. It didn’t take much pulling or coaxing before her young friend was stretched across her knees. She snapped a few tissues out of a box on the table and handed them up to her.

“Go ahead”, she said. “Cry. I know you’re not done.”

“But…”

Tina cupped her bottom and pantomimed a spank that just touched Sharon’s behind. The girl jumped as if shocked.

“You want more?” Tina asked.

“No…I…”

Tina spanked her again, this time harder. The thick softness of the girl’s bottom was pleasing. She was ready to spank again but noticed the Sharon’s shoulders silently quivering. In a moment she was sobbing.

“There, there”, said Tina softly patting her hot bottom.

“Next time, if there is a next time, I can spank you this way if you’d like.”

“The paddle wouldn’t work like this.”

“I’ll buy a proper hairbrush. Or I can use my hand. Would you like that?”

“Yes”, she said softly. “Yes, I would. Thank you.”

“Shhh… Cry now.”

Tina kept her hand on Sharon’s bottom. It wasn’t a lewd gesture as far as she was concerned. Not very different from rubbing a friend’s back to comfort them. Well, maybe a little different. She rubbed and patted and ran her thumb along the ridge of her divide as the girl’s sobs waned and she lay still, sniffling, her bottom soft, relaxed and pink. Very pink.

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Breaking the old Ennui – 3

 

(Continued from Breaking the old Ennui – 2)

Karen lay on her side facing her friend in a bubble where neither they, nor the air, moved for the long minute before the thermometer ‘pinged’. Theresa refocused on Karen’s face, biting her lip and sighing lightly as the tube was withdrawn from her bottom.

“That’s odd”, they both heard Tim say.

“What?” asked his wife.

“It’s reading a perfect normal.”

“That can’t be right”, said Theresa looking back. “I feel…”

Karen reached back and slid her fingers across Theresa’s bottom, squeezed lightly then cupped her top cheek. She lifted, opening her back there.

“Try it again, Tim”, she said.

Her friend’s mouth gapped slightly as the tube was reinserted and Karen released, allowing her bottom to close around it. She got up on her elbow and began to loosen the Velcro holding her binding sling in place. “Help me, here”, she asked Tim. Having had the same surgery, Karen knew what flexibility there was and how to move and not move the shoulder. Theresa said nothing, allowing herself to be gently manipulated. She lifted her arm slightly and let Karen unbutton, then slip her shirt off.

The thermometer sounded again. “Leave it”, said Karen paying attention to the clasp between Theresa’s breasts. “We know what it’s going to say, don’t we Trece?” Again, Tim helped with the unveiling, sliding the strap off the shoulder and releasing the ripe fullness of her breasts. Now it was Karen’s turn to suck air between her teeth.

“You are naked on our bed, Babe”, she said.  “Is that what you had in mind?”

“I don’t know…what I had in mind. But it feels good. Doesn’t it.?”

Karen rubbed her thumb over one of the taut, swollen nipples. “Somebody’s liking it”, she said.

“I’m kinda surprised though”, Theresa said quietly watching Karen roll her nipple gently between her thumb and forefinger. “Why haven’t we done this before?”

“I don’t know, love. Sometimes the stars just have to line up.” Karen arched her back and dipped her head, opening her mouth and closing it softly over the end of Theresa’s top breast. “Oh-Oh-Oh…” which might have been an “Ah-Ah-Ah…” the breath from each exclamation puffing at her hair. More than a mouthful indeed.

“Timmy, would you please stop that beeping?”

With a whimper-inducing jiggle then a flourish, Tim pulled the thermometer out of her bottom and held it up. “Ninety-eight point six”, he announced.

“Ah…I see what’s going on here…” said Karen back close to Theresa’s face. “Somebody’s fibbing…”

“I just wanted to play a little. God, I didn’t think it would be like this…”

Karen shifted slightly, the seam of her jeans digging into her own moist crease as she moved their game along.

“Tim and I have a way of dealing with fibbers, don’t we Tim?”

“We certainly do”, he said rubbing his palm across the top cheek of Theresa’s creamy white bottom. Her eyes widened, knowing where this was going. Karen and Tim weren’t shy about how they played.

“Come on Karen”, she said. “Not a spanking…”

“Oh, I think absolutely a spanking.”

“Nooo….” She whimpered.

“Tell you what. We won’t spank you. We’ll just help you get dressed and go back out into the living room and watch TV. You OK with that? That will be fine, right?”

“No….” she pouted with her lip out.

“I didn’t think so…” Karen knelt at Theresa’s side and reached over delivering a firm SMACK to her bottom.

“Ouch!”

“Don’t be a baby! That was a love tap.”

“Hurts.”

“Shhhh…”

Karen leaned close, one hand on her friend’s waist, the other delivering light but stinging slaps to her backside. “Ow-ow-ow…” Theresa whispered, not wanting to be a whiner.

“There!” said Karen straightening up after twelve or so slaps.

“I’m done?!” said Theresa, delighted.

“No. I’m done. Timmy’s turn…”

“Oh…”

She writhed gently has he smacked her reddening rump firmly but playfully. She moaned but couldn’t say much more as Karen, lying face to face, had slipped her tongue into her mouth. The spanking slowed then stopped, Tim using his large hand to rub and knead her mottled bottom. She lifted slightly to allow his hand to slip between her legs.

“Please don’t”, she said.

“If you want me to stop, say stop.”

“Please don’t”, she repeated.

“If you want me to stop, say stop”, Tim said pushing his fingers deeper as Karen gazed intently into her eyes.

“Please don’t stop Tim…” she giggled, saying the words that her flowing quim had already made clear. With the palm of his hand fused to the inside of her bottom cheek he rubbed slowly and gently, only increasing pace and pressure as her breath quickened. She drew her leg higher as he did what she had asked him not to. Tim stopped the internal massage and withdrew his fingers eliciting a soft whimper until she felt Karen’s hand sliding across her belly and between her legs from the front.

Thus engaged, she didn’t notice Tim slip his pants off freeing his cock. Karen watched it rise then reached across her recumbent friend to take his firmness in hand and pull him toward her. Her mouth provided all the lubrication he would need. He dragged his damp piece across Theresa’s warm, spanked cheek and slipped between, allowing his wife’s hand to guide him into the dripping warmth.

He hardened with the penetration and thrust deeply feeling her butt against him. “Finally fucking Theresa”, he said with a smile.

“What took you so long?” she joked breathing heavily. Karen was kneeling, supporting her injured shoulder.  Tim, on his side, held her hip and caught the wet slap-slap-slap rhythm of their coupling. “I’m…going to come….” She gasped. “It won’t take long…I’m going to….” Further announcements were unnecessary. She coughed once, then bit off a squeal and finally groaned as she stiffened.

To be continued….

 

Maddie – 2

 

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(Continued from Maddie Marx)

Happily for Maddie she didn’t have to hop after her ear for long. They were going no further than the room Chelsea and Gennie had just visited. The original group of a dozen or so still mingled but it looked as if the physicals were over. Tommy Bellow, his jeans up and a drink in his hand, was standing against the wall chatting with Nurse Kim. All conversation stopped as Chelsea dragged Maddie-still yelping “Ouch! Ouch!”-into the room.

Gennie followed trying to be inconspicuous. She was equal parts mortified, excited and aroused. Is Chelsea really going to spank that girl here in from of everyone?

“Please Ma’am…not in front of everyone…OWWW!” as her ear took a strong twist before being released. Maddie gave the room a quick glance. Holy shit! She thought, there’s a hundred people in here!

Chelsea surveyed the room. “Excuse me”, she said coolly. “Is there a paddle here I can use to thrash this girl?”

I guess she is, thought Gennie and a bird in her chest flapped a wing. She slipped over toward Tommy and Nurse Kim. “Hi”, whispered Gennie, not wanting to call attention to herself. Tommy winked at her and slid down the wall a tad, giving her space to fit in. Gennie had to look up.

“You’re taller than I thought…” she said.

“Well, standing up, sure”, he grinned. Gennie flushed.

“I have this”, Nurse Kim said moving to the corner and retrieving what looked to be a yardstick but upon further review, was a little thicker and wider and varnished to a bright gold. There were bright red numbers etched on it though no one thought it had ever been used to measure anything. Except perhaps one’s endurance.

“Ah, perfect”, said Chelsea taking the offered implement. “Remove your blazer, Miss Hawkins. It’s liable to get a little warm in here for you.”

Maddie fumbled at the thick tortoiseshell buttons and tried to still her shaking hands. This is what she wanted after all. Wasn’t it? Pretty much, yeah, but maybe she had ended up with more than she bargained for as her mother always used to warn her. Her hands grazed her chest as she doffed the blazer and she was conscious of her nipples-firmly ensconced in her bra and blouse-aching as they hardened. Sheryll would joke that Maddie could come at the sight of a hairbrush. That was an exaggeration, of course. Just. But an exaggeration.

Chelsea took the blazer and lay it gently over a chair. “Stand here”, she said indicating a spot in front of the desk. Maddie moved slowly, outwardly reluctantly, into position. “Bend over” was Chelsea’s next command, “Palms and elbows on the desk.” Maddie did as she was told feeling her skirt lift slightly in back.

She held her breath, knowing what came next. The room collectively inhaled as Chelsea pinched the hem of the thick tartan skirt and lifted it up over Maddie’s back.

“You’ve given me no choice, Miss Harris”, she intoned.

“There’s always a choice Ma’am” said Maddie glancing back over her shoulder.

“Eyes front Missy!”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Maddie settled. She was fine with the view she was offering. Field hockey was a memory but she spent enough time at the gym and playing in an intermediate coed soccer league to know she was in shape. Of course, Sherryl would pinch her bottom now and again and say something supremely witty like “I found that five pounds you were looking for” but she was a beanpole. Maddie was fine with her backside.

She felt the stick touch her and rub back and forth smoothly over the cotton. She gritted her teeth and waited.

“It’s a good thing she’s not in my class”, Nurse Kim piped up.

Chelsea stayed her stick for a moment and turned toward the throaty lilt of the beautiful mahogany woman.

“Why would that be Nurse Kimani?”

“In my class, three detentions would automatically assure a punishment on the bare bottom.”

“What?” thought Maddie. “WHAT?” She had been spanked in front of others certainly. Usually it was the four of them drinking spritzers and playing cards at Emily’s apartment. Or at the Lodge. That was fun. And hot. This? “Say yuck, she told herself. YUCK!” but no word came out.

Chelsea looked toward her charge and thought she saw her head dip slightly. A nod? An assent? She’d given her the safe word-she could opt out of anything at any time. They definitely had the attention of the room.

The bright white cotton strained across her strong bottom. Looking at her hamstrings and the cut of her thighs, Chelsea-and everyone else for that matter-knew she was an athlete. “What the hell…” thought Chel warming to the task. “No ‘Yuck’, I’m playing.”

“I’m new to this school”, Chelsea announced as if on stage. “I’ll go with Nurse Kim’s suggestion.” Then, without another word and minus any flourishes, Chelsea stuck her thumbs in the elastic and pulled the panties down quickly off Maddie’s bottom. They fluttered to the floor.

“Oh dear GOD!” screamed the voice in Maddie’s head. “I’m bare ass in front of a room full of strangers! Too late for ‘Yuck’ now.” What had she been thinking? Her mom tittered again: something about biting off more than you can chew. No, I’m fine…she said to herself. This is fine. I can handle this. Happily, her bottom was full enough to secrete her most intimate parts inside and under voluptuous folds and crevices. Still, she held her legs primly together already feeling a dampening there.

“That is a beautiful ass”, said Tommy quietly to Gennie.

“Yes”, she agreed. “Very.”

“You like that?”

“You don’t?”

“Yeah, but….”

“Don’t worry. I thought your bum looked very sweet too with the thermometer sticking out of it.”

His no-doubt witty rejoinder was interrupted by the sharp CRACK of Chelsea’s stick across the fulsome center of Maddie’s bottom. Her mouth fell open in a silent gasp. “Don’t let your mouth write a check that your ass can’t cash”, echoed in her head. It wasn’t her mother saying it, but she got it.

She braced for the second swat and even pushed her bottom back a little. Chelsea delivered a smack that echoed off the crown molding and hardwood floors. The bad girl flinched but uttered not a sound.

The third was harder still then the forth the hardest. She slapped the table hard. “Dammit!!” she hissed through gritted teeth. Chelsea listened, but heard nothing else.

“You have something to say Miss?”

“No”, she winced.

Chelsea reared back and struck again and Maddie took it silently.

“She’s good…” Tommy whispered.

“I’d be crying….”

“She might get there…Your friend is really working her.”

By the time she paused there were six bright red stripes across the girl’s ass and she had started to wriggle and undulate in a way that threatened to expose all that she had wanted to keep hidden.  Chelsea gave her a break to compose herself. Not being able to help herself, Chelsea patted, then rubbed both creased cheeks feeling the slightly raised welts.

“A few more Miss Hayes.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“I’m going to place them lower…here”, she illustrated, sliding her finger, then fingers, along the untouched softness of Maddie’s sit spots. The girl gasped at the touch and growled low in her throat as the torturing touch lingered then stroked back and forth, back and forth leaving their own little white paths. “These will be memorable”, Chelsea whispered close.

“Yes Ma’am” Maddie said.

The stick’s first assault on the soft bottom cheeks was firm and loudly cracking. “You BITCH!” thought Maddie gritting her teeth and tensing back there. Chelsea saw the tightness in the cheeks; the clenching dimpling the skin and tightening the doors to all the openings. This would never do. So instead of swinging away and swatting, Chelsea slapped lightly but firmly.

SLAP—SLAP—SLAP landed the stick. “You need to loosen up Miss Hayes…loosen up and open up.” The paddle was now an onslaught of light cracks in the same place, pinkening rather than reddening the skin. The room seemed to lean forward noticing the shift in tone and tempo.

“Holy shit!” whispered Gennie leaning into Tommy. “This is….”

“Yeah.  Very. Punishment’s over”, he said. “This is reward…”

“You better open girl,” said Chelsea with a menacing smile. “I could do this all night. SLAP—SLAP—SLAP!!

She was already wriggling again trying for relief, but was afraid to open. What if they saw how wet she was. She didn’t know, of course, but it felt like a river was running through her. SLAP—SLAP—SLAP! Oh dammit, she thought. SLAP—SLAP—SLAP! So what? Who cared who saw what? SLAP—SLAP!! ALRIGHT! she pushed backward, not revealing much, not opening completely but making the effort. Chelsea struck once more on the top of the left leg allowing the tip of the stick to impact lightly inside the firm thigh.

“Very good”, announced Chelsea. “Are you finished?”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you ma’am.”

“Alright then. You may stand and pull up your panties.” As she did, the crowd dispersed with murmurs of approval all round. “That was hot”, was heard. “I bet her butt is hot.” “I’d like to feel it and see….”

“Shame to cover that up”, said Chelsea. “It’s very pretty-very well marked.”

“You did your job”, Maddie said softly. She seemed a little unsteady on her feet.

“Are you OK? I gave you the safe-word…I figured that…”

Maddie looked up, her face almost as red as her bottom but her eyes shining. “There are only two words I want to say to you”, she said huskily her throat conspiring to choke them off.

“What are those?”

“Fuck me.”

(Continuing…)

Chelsea – 5

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(Continued from Chelsea – 4)

 

Geneva knocked lightly on the door.

“Come in”, she muffled. Chelsea was on the bed, laying on her side facing the window. She was fully clothed, but for her boots.

“You OK?”

“Sure”, she sniffed. The wall against her tears had evidently collapsed on the way up to her room. “My ass burns like hell.”

“I bet.” Geneva sat on the bed and handed the tube of salve over her shoulder. “He sent me to give this to you.  Apparently, it’s for burns, sunburn…he said it would help.”

“Thoughtful.”

Geneva rubbed her shoulder. “Sorry Chel…”

“Wasn’t your fault”, she sighed and handed the tube back. “What did he say?”

“When?”

“When he sent you up with this stuff.”

“Oh…he said, that I should…take care of you. That you’d want to see me…But I can leave…”

“Come on,” she almost snickered as she undid her belt. “Take care of me then.” She unsnapped, unzipped and pushed her jeans and underwear down to her knees, rolling onto her belly.

“Yeeouch”, Gennie said tentatively touching the double bulls-eye bruises on Chelsea’s bottom. “Has to hurt…” She squeezed a dollop of lotion onto her right cheek and rubbed gently.

“It hurts for sure, but guess what I won’t be doing anymore?”

“What?”

“Smoking anywhere near the workshop.”

“Guess it worked then. But I don’t know how you could stand it!

“Sometimes it’s easier to take a beating than to live with the disappointment.”

“Huh?…What?…I’m sorry.” Gennie was only half listening, distracted by the feel of Chelsea’s hot bottom under her slick, ministering fingers. Her skin mounded and crested as she massaged from the inside out allowing peeks of the treasures barely hidden in her cracks and creases.

“Remember the way he looked at me when he got out of the truck? That ‘you let me down look?’ I’d rather have my ass beat every day of the week than live with that.”

“I think I remember that…” Gennie said remembering her own spanking.

“Complicated”, Chelsea said.

“Truly…”

Geneva rubbed in circles, first one cheek then the other. She dabbed more lotion and widened her circles to the small of her back and then down to the tops of Chelsea’s thighs-places the paddle hadn’t touched. Her hands navigated the lithe body like a well-remembered but seldom trod path.  “Mmmm…that’s nice” Chelsea said into the pillow. As if awaiting a signal, Geneva allowed her hand and it’s exploring fingers to slide between her cheeks and rub up over her tight little button and further down between her legs. Chelsea began to wriggle at the touch.

“Would you do something for me?”

“If I can.”

“Slip my plants the rest of the way off.”

Geneva smiled ruefully watching her finger tease its way up the crevasse between the mottled cheeks. “I don’t know if that’s what he had in mind.”

“He sent you up here to rub lotion on my bare butt. He didn’t say just to bring me the salve, did he? What do you think he had in mind?”

“But you know he and I are…”

“Jesus! Don’t say it. You think I don’t know? This is a big house but not that big. I hear you guys at it every night.”

“Not every night!”

“Sometimes twice a night!”

Geneva giggled like a kid and took the bottom of Chelsea’s butt cheek in hand to knead it gently, her thumb playing at the soft spot just inside her thigh. “I just don’t know…” she stopped herself frustrated, but Chelsea would have none of it.

“Look, I can’t-not with your hands on me like this, imagine you leaving me here alone with my pants off and having to rub one off again. That’s all I do! Alone in my room while you make crazy love down the hall. I’m like a nun in here. Come on Gen-don’t make me beg! I know you don’t…feel about me the way I could about you. But you like me well enough don’t you?”

“Of course I like you well enough…”

“You don’t hate me do you?”

Chelsea was so engrossed in her pleading that she didn’t immediately feel her jeans being pulled over her feet. “Jesus, when did you become such a drama queen?”

“Celibacy makes cowards of us all”, Chelsea said allowing her legs, unbound by her jeans and panties, to fall open.

“May I never find that out”, Geneva said. Then, with a well-aimed and light smack on the bottom, “Roll over. I’ve seen enough of your narrow ass for one day.”

(Continuing…)

 

Chelsea – 3

 

tumblr_nzyvo9tk1x1s3zznpo1_1280(Continued from Chelsea – 2)

“CHELSEA!” Geneva cried as she was coming up the hill from the apple trees. “THE WORKSHOP!” Chelsea looked up to see her running and pointing behind her. She spun to see smoke rolling out of the open door. “SHIT!” She dropped the mower deck and ran into the smoke.

Fresh sawdust smolders for a long time before bursting into open flame. Chelsea figured she had not very many more seconds before the smoke bomb would have become a conflagration. As it was, she didn’t even use the fire extinguisher, just turned the hose on it. By the time Gennie came gasping through the door, it was out, leaving nothing but the smoky cloud behind.

“Shit, Chel. What happened?”

She was too shaken to just laugh it off. “I don’t know. I had a cigarette…”

“You were smoking in here?”

“No! I mean…I was smoking out there-working on the mower deck-then came in here for a wrench. Must have laid the cigarette…”

“Jesus!” Gennie was nervously circling. “Okay, okay…we won’t tell him, right? We just won’t say anything.”

“Sniff, girl. Smells like fire in here.”

“We’ll open the loft door. Then get rid of it-the sawdust. Everything that’s burnt. We’ll take it back into the woods.”

“It’ll still smell in here.”

“Fire up the saws. Fresh sawdust will cover the smell!”

“Gen, that’s not going to fool him. I’m fucked.”

“No. Come on!” Geneva grabbed a shovel, “Get that bucket, both of those…”

Chelsea wasn’t moving. “I’m not lying to him Gen. I’m not.  Is that what you want to do?”

Gennie came up short. “What? No…I didn’t mean that…” She shut up with the crunch of the pickup on the gravel outside. She hadn’t even heard him coming up the driveway. “Aw, Chelsea. We are fucked.”

“Not ‘we’. Not ‘us’…this is my problem, not yours. I’ll deal with it.”

Chelsea ached, not at what she was pretty sure was coming, but at the changing light of his face as he came toward them. Behind the taciturn mask was a smile of joy at seeing them, then a concern over their serious faces followed by the darkening clouds of anger, disappointment and dread of what might have happened. And now, what was going to have to happen.

She had caused this stormy weather. If not for her they would all be standing around talking, laughing, planning the evening. But they weren’t. Because of her. She had never forgotten how it felt to deserve to be punished.

(Continuing…)

But Why?

Because,

I want to gasp as you bump your fingers slowly over your handiwork.

I love to hiss at the cool burn when you drizzle the lotion over me.

I want to remember this all day.

I want to feel you all day.

When you’re gone,

I want to feel the tiny buzz when running my own fingers over the tight ridges.

I want to feel them wriggling below when sitting later.

To pause anytime and see a reminder of what we did this morning.

I want to reach back anytime and feel them.

Touch them.

Then make myself feel something more.

There was a time when the memory of your smile-of your hand in mine-was enough;

A long time ago.

Sometimes I wish you weren’t-but

You are too gentle to leave bruises so I could see them for days.

But you’ll be back soon-

To again, scribe your signature,

On me.

 

If you enjoyed, see Corduroy

A Whipping – Finale

(Continued from A Whipping – Part II)

She howled like a wolf at the rising moon as the first stroke cut cruelly across the top of her buttocks. The pain-THIS PAIN-she didn’t remember. The second followed immediately just below the first. “OWWWW!” she cried again lurching against the thick leather across the small of her back. She tried to gasp his name, to beg some kind of quarter, but another wicked stroke, then another, stole her words replacing them with yelps and cries.

“These walls are thick Missus”, he said in a way to calm her. “No one will hear-yell as you must.”

And she did, ignoring the memories of cries she had heard wafting from the high archer’s windows in the tower. Anyone passing by now would hear her but she cared not.

“But don’t forget to breathe”, he said pausing to inspect the deep pink and purpling weals slashing across her alabaster bottom. The eight stripes were perfectly spaced from the top of her deep crease to almost the center. He tenderly patted her right buttock which twitched at the touch. “Shhh… he said, gently palping the softness at the bottom of her cheek. When he last caned Eleanor Swick she was a girl whose slight curves flattened and disappeared when she bent. This was a woman bending now, her thickened body retaining its lush roundness as she reclined forward. She lifted her head and made to glance backward, curious about the delay.

“Sixteen more Ellie.”

“Yes…I don’t know how I’ll stand them.”

“You just will. Prepare”

She gripped the edge of the bench as the cane burned into the center of her bottom. She needn’t wonder any longer how a hot poker might feel touched to her skin. Her crying was now complete and non-stop; howls punctuating the kisses of the cane. He slowed his pace watching the new stripes bloom lightly. They were pink, no longer red. Ellie’s cries had likewise softened. Pulled by duty, he tightened his grip then hit a strong one low that bit into the top of her right thigh.  “Owww…” she cried anew.

“I’m sorry Ellie.” She felt him close again-his breath on her hot bottom then his finger at the top of her thigh. “Afraid I broke the skin on that one.” He rubbed it gently. “I’ll dress that for you…”She clung to the board wishing she had taken her top off as well, desiring as she did the feel of the leather against her nipples that-regardless of the pain-were hard and scratching as live beetles.

“How many more…?” she asked breathlessly, fearing the number.

He paused again before answering “None” definitively and laying the cane aside. “You are finished.”

“But that was only twelve or…”

“Shall I continue?”

“No! No! Thank you, Roger. God…I…” She blathered in relief and in another kind of heat.  “Come around”, she rasped. “Come to me.”

Roger stepped to the front of the bench where Eleanor’s grasping hands reached for him. He allowed himself to be taken by the hips and pulled forward. Her fingers worked feverishly untying the leather cord that cinched his trousers.

“Ellie…Eleanor…I don’t know…”

“Shush!” she said as the knot came loose and she pulled his thickening shaft free. “You’ve had your fun, now it’s my turn!”

He pulled back. “It was no fun for me Ellie! I didn’t…”

“Shush! Of course I know that…It’s a joke, that’s all…I’m sorry. Here, now…” Her hand wrapped around his cock and pulled him toward her tear streaked face. “You must come closer…”

Her grip tightened and pulled him to her mouth opening wide as a baby bird at dinner. The Punisher allowed himself to be guided forward and watched as her lips circled his manhood. He stood still, allowing her no more than the head, which she gobbled hungrily, stretching her neck for more. He stroked her hair allowing his staff to expand to its fullness under her feverishly flicking and rolling tongue.

“You must take me Roger. You must take me…back there.”

“Ellie, this would be a breach of office that I’ve never even contemplated.”

“Never?” She looked up at him with red eyes. “Never Roger?”

He gulped. “The one time. Yes.” He admitted.

“You will find that my wicked thoughts and your cutting cane have left me wet enough to accommodate even this-once I ready you.” She put him firmly back in her mouth and reached, taking his hips to draw him closer turning her head to better take him. Her arms wrapped around him clutching his backside-hugging him to her face his wild hair scratching her cheeks, his cock deep in her throat. She bobbed once, then again then pushed him away her saliva glistening on his engorged cock.

“Now Roger-take me. If you don’t it will be your cruelest punishment.”

He slipped between her legs and opened her bruised cheeks. She gasped as he placed his purpling dome against her moist folds to hear her beg once more, then slowly and inexorably pushed forward surprised and pleased that she could accommodate him. She moaned when his body touched her bottom-then again as he pulled back and thrust forward. Again, then again, he ground deeply into her. With his hands gripping her hips he quickened his pace, banging and slapping into her sweating body.

“Roger! I’m coming Roger-I’m going to come….!” She grabbed the sides of the bench and gritted her teeth as he worked faster feeling his own finish building deeply in his loins. He rammed her firmly as she squealed in release-pushing backward as much as she could against the leather. His pace now a gallop he kept her full of him pulling more cries with his rod than he had with the cane.

With a final shudder she ceased her fevered bucking. He withdrew his throbbing cock and gripping firmly, allowed himself to spurt fully across her backside. She moaned at the feel of the wet heat against her skin. Deflated against the bench she closed her eyes and just breathed, luxuriating in the twitches and jolts that emanated from her warm and well-served pussy.

There was movement behind and she felt the cool wet of a soft cloth cleaning and cleansing. Her senses were clear for the first time in weeks; she smelled the unguent as he gently touched where she needed it. She allowed him to minister as she wondered at her emptiness-the serpent of her needs had been cast out. For the time being.

Epilogue

Having cleared the room, the Queen Regent regarded The Punisher from her seat behind the ornate, elevated desk. She was high enough on her platform that even Roger Peterman had to look up to her. Not one to dabble in emotion, she regarded him silently as he wondered how she could look so much the same as when he first laid eyes on her as a boy.

True, her thick golden locks were thinner and laced through with platinum but her face didn’t betray her years. Her life on horseback-her preferred mode of travel around the realm-kept her body, which she did little to conceal beyond the conventions of the day, vital and strong. No longer a warrior, her mien nonetheless betrayed a readiness-maybe even an eagerness-for physical effort; for combat. Her iron-gray eyes penetrated still.

“So. I hear there was no whipping in the square while I was gone.”

“No Mam”, he said.

The silence was deep enough that dust motes could be heard crashing into each other falling through the sunlight.

“Did I not clearly express my wishes?” she asked simply and evenly.

“Oh, yes Mam. Verily so.”

Those who knew the Queen Regent best (and they were precious few) would have noticed a smile just then. If not at the corners of her mouth then in her eyes. The Punisher saw nothing.

“You’re not quite old enough to be considered eccentric. Or charmingly cantankerous…”

“No Mam.”

“Or odd. But. You want to be careful of appearing willful. Or disloyal.”

“No, Mam. Never that.”

“No, not you. But there is such a thing as misplaced loyalty. Misguided perhaps.” She paused and regarded him coolly.  “If I were to bring Mrs. Plumm-and it is Missus, Roger, with a husband and child-if I were to bring her in and strip her down, what would I see?”

“Thirty purple stripes Mam, cut right across the bottom. Evidences of abrasions. At least six open wounds.”

“Some caning. Thirty strokes at your hand.”

“Yes, Mam. Shall I send for her?”

“She would come for you, wouldn’t she?”

“At your behest Mam. At your behest.”

The Queen Regent allowed another invisible smile to bloom unseen across her face. “No, that’s fine. Let her be. You though, come to my chambers at sundown. We will discuss this further.”

“Yes, mam.”

“Use the back stairs from the library, so you won’t be observed.”

“Yes, mam. Thank you, mam.”

“You might want to save the ‘thank you’.”

“Yes mam.” He bowed his leave.  “Until sundown, then.”

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Katheryn Winnick as as Lagertha in Vikings. Not necessarily the model for the Queen Regent…