Chelsea – 5

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Perchenonso.tumblr.com

(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…)

 

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Chelsea – 4

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Perchenonso.tumblr.com

(Continued from Chelsea – 3)

“Come on Chelsea”, he punctuated every instruction with a wave or a point with the paddle he had taken from a cabinet. It was a nasty piece of work that she had never seen before-dark wood, holes drilled along the length of it, varnished to a high sheen. “Put your hands here”, he tapped the edge of the workbench. She stepped forward reluctantly and placed her hands where she was told. She knew, as Gennie had found out, that with the doors wide open anyone who pulled up in the yard-or was wandering by on trails off in the woods-would have a clear view of the proceedings.

“Move your feet back a tad”, he said tapping her shins. Her stomach roiled as she shuffled her feet backward enough to position her bottom to his liking.

“Geneva”, he said using her proper name which was never a good sign.

“Yes?” she answered quickly from her position near the door.

“Take her pants down.”

“What? Me…Why…?”

“Get over here and take her jeans down. Now.”

“But…” she hadn’t moved.

“She’s getting ten swats on her bare ass. If you don’t get over here and do as you’re told immediately she’ll get twenty. And I’ll give you ten.”

Chelsea looked back over her shoulder. “Go ahead, Gen. Please.”

She moved quickly then, to right behind, roughly hip to hip. She reached around to unbuckle her belt and unzip her fly. When her jeans slid down, Chelsea could feel her back there-bumping and rubbing against her.  Then, after a pause, she felt Geneva’s thumbs in the elastic of her panties then her blue-jean clad leg against her own bare thigh. The touch, even accidental and in passing, was electric to her right now. Chelsea didn’t have Geneva’s curves, so when she bent over more of herself was on display than she would have liked.

Geneva stepped back, her heart flapping loose in her chest. She had taken her spanking a couple of weeks before and none since. She thought there would be another-he’d threatened, for sure-but she thought he might be kidding. But she’d never been paddled nor had she ever seen anyone paddled.

She didn’t know where to look. At Chelsea? It wouldn’t be right to stare at her naked butt though it was right there in front of her. Living together for a year-some of that time as lovers-had given her ample opportunities to see her naked, top and bottom. But not like this. She didn’t know if she was embarrassed, or embarrassed for her.

She looked to him for an idea of what she should be doing but he didn’t look her way, standing as he was beside Chelsea absorbed in the task at hand. His grey eyes were clear and focused as hers flitted about until it became apparent that she couldn’t not look-couldn’t not witness. She watched Chelsea’s bottom cheeks quiver as he patted her once, twice with the paddle to measure, then reared back. Good Lord, he was taking a long swing! She held her breath. Then it flew hard and fast-HOLY SHIT!-landing firmly on target with a sharp CRACK!

Chelsea absorbed it with little more than a rise onto her right toe. “Oh Jesus”, Gennie whispered to herself as the second swat landed and both hands involuntarily flew to the top of her head as she rocked up on her toes.

He adjusted the next swing and hit Chelsea again, full force on the left cheek then again across both with a loud SWAT! She grunted at that and broke her knees slightly. He stepped back. “Go ahead”, he said.

She held the workbench and squatted deep to try to relieve the burning in her skin.

“Can I rub?” she asked down on her haunches.

“Yeah, sure.”

She stood and rubbed her backside softly but quickly.

“How you doin’?” he asked.

“Not great” she said dryly but firmly.

“You good with this?”

“Yep!” She said sharply.

“You deserve this?”

“Yep!” she bit off.

Without being told, she straightened and repositioned herself. Looking past her throbbing bottom Gennie saw the muscles in Chelsea’s arms and shoulders flex and bunch as her fingers trembled gripping the bench. She didn’t move when the next swat landed with a loud CRACK! but Gennie did, spinning to look out into the yard. Enough is enough!

The few remaining swats landed loudly with nothing but a grunt and one stifled “Oww”. How could she stand it? Gennie wondered breathless, but then, by the time she thought it, she had. “Pull your pants up”, she heard him say. Still not turning around she heard the jingle of the belt and the rustle of denim. “Go to your room”, he said gruffly.

Go to your room? Was she actually being sent to her room? Somewhere, deep inside, Gennie felt the shadow of a memory slide past as Chelsea brushed by her walking purposefully toward the house. Her cheeks, glanced on the way, were dry-but flushed. Chelsea was gone inside and probably up the steps as Gennie still watched the door through which she had disappeared. He approached from behind.

“You OK?”

“Yeah…Jeeze…”

“Yeah. I’m sorry about that. Here…” he handed her a tube of ointment. “This will help. Go take care of her.” She held the tube and looked toward the house. “Go. She’ll want to see you about now.”

(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…)

Geneva – 12

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Uncredited Tumblr find

(Continued from Geneva – 11)

His eyes locked on hers as she moved slowly toward him. It wasn’t far, but every step of the foot-dragging-journey seemed to take forever. She broke first, dropping her gaze to the floor. She wasn’t afraid, exactly. At least she didn’t think so-but she sure felt something. She remembered learning about the flight or fight response in psychology. That must be what she was feeling-but she was doing neither. She was submitting. Her response was to acquiesce. Maybe that’s what frightened her.

She stopped when she saw his feet and knees in front of her. As if reading her mind, he asked softly, but in the same stern tone, “Do you trust me?” She said nothing for a breath then nodded meekly as the word ‘yes’ fell stillborn to the floor.

Done talking he reached out and unsnapped, then opened, her jeans. He pulled them down with none of the attendant gentleness that would come with undressing a lover. Her hands, having nothing to do, dangled. He guided her, shuffling, to his side before pulling her panties down to lie with her jeans in a bundle at her feet.

The sunlight illuminated her glowing white skin and he, with difficulty, ignored the luxurious tangle of fur standing within easy reach. His eyes lingered though, when he caught her sweet scent in the light breeze coming through the door. “Lay over”, he said with difficulty, his tongue, like hers, slow and dry. Avoiding his eyes and flushing a deep pink, she bent and leaned her hands first on his legs, then on the chair beside him and finally, as she settled over his lap, onto the rough floor, mortified that her bare backside was pointing into the yard.

He cupped her bottom once to push her higher and she wriggled into a better position and waited nervously feeling the heat of the fall sun on her skin. He resisted the urge to touch her-wanting this moment to stand singularly from any other where he might fondle or caress her bare bottom.

“I don’t want this”, she said to the floor. “I hate this. But I’m still sorry for what I did…I’m sorry.”

“I understand.” He patted her soft bum once, then again, tenderly. “And I forgive you. Now let’s get this out of the way. Don’t tense-that will make it worse.” With that he raised his arm and brought his hand with a loud “SMACK!” onto her creamy right cheek. As anyone reacting to their first spanking, every swat was met with a verbal response. Gennie yelped “OUCH”, then “OWW” then “OUCH” again as he spanked first one side then the other then back again.

His blows weren’t as hard as they could be but certainly not light. She allowed herself to begin crying at around the seventh or eighth swat and once she opened the gate, all the afternoon’s tension and her fear of being sent away flew through her and out, driven by his heavy hand on her backside. Her crying filled the workshop punctuated by “OOOO’s” and “OWWW’s” which became louder as he quickened the pace of the blows at the same time reducing their severity. She began to kick and squirm.

“Lie still”, he commanded pausing.

“I’m trying”, she sniffed.

He concentrated his smacks on the void at the bottom of her bottom where her cheeks met the tops of her legs so every echoing swat reverberated between her legs. As her bottom numbed to his spanks, her flower awoke to the reverberations.

“Here”, he said, “Let me move you…” He spread her legs slightly so that in delivering the final light swats he could cup her cheeks and allow his fingers to linger in the softness between.  After a pause, he said “I think you’re done”. His hand rested at the top of her leg kneading slowly.

“Thank God!” she said, lifting one hand then the other to wipe her eyes. But she didn’t move to rise as his fingers explored between and below her pink-spattered mounds. After a moment, she felt his hardness poking at her belly.

“Enjoying yourself?”

“I’ve had worse times”, he said sliding his finger deftly across her moist labia. “You?”

“Great” she said sarcastically but made no move as he rubbed.

“You want me to stop?” he asked pausing and seemingly ready to pull his hand out. She pushed her bottom back to stay engaged.

“Don’t be hasty. Really, it’s the least you could do.”

“You are in a pretty vulnerable position to be a smartass.”

She didn’t push it, nor did she move, save for the slow undulating dance of her hips against his prodding finger.  She was pushing backward off the floor wriggling against his growing cock. “Hold on”, she said. “As much as I hate to move, I have to tend to that.”

She stood quickly and, marching in place, hurriedly stomped her pants and underwear off. She pushed him hard back onto the chair when he began to stand and reached for his belt. She yanked it roughly as he tore her T-shirt toward himself, up her back and over her head leaving her completely naked but for the tears on her cheeks and the blush on her bottom. She barely noticed, hungrily pulling his jeans and underwear down.

He pulled her in and closed his lips over one small taut breast, then the other, and nibbled softly, squeezing her warm bottom. She growled lowly, throwing a leg over and straddling him. Reaching down she grabbed him firmly, placed him, then gently impaled herself in one long sure move. She settled, wriggled-kissed him hard-then lifted slightly-to fall back down. Then lifted higher-almost out. Then sat hard again. Then again. Her grunting exertions accompanied the soft squishing sound that became louder and louder as she as she pumped and jumped faster and faster working her burning thighs to the loud slap-slap-slap of his bare ass on the hard, wooden chair.

“I…shouldn’t…be….doing…this…after…the way…..you….spanked…me…”, she gasped.

“If you stop now, you’ll get another one”, he growled, his hands on her bouncing butt.

“Come dammit-COME!” she barked as she began to shudder bucking hard in his lap. He didn’t need the direction lifting his ass off the hard wood and squeezing her tightly-his hands slipping along her damp back.  She rode him hard, bucking into a shudder then crying out something that might have been words as she came loudly just at the moment he coughed and spurted deeply up into her.

He collapsed hard onto the chair as they, still coupled, shrunk into one another like balloons after a party. Her slick body glistened in the sun as he slid his hands over her. Was it only 15 minutes ago that she worried about someone seeing her bare butt out the door?

Too spent to lift her head, her lips tickled his collarbone.

“The most confusing orgasm ever”, she breathed.

“If it was easy, everyone would do it.”

Continuing…

Geneva – 11

(Continued from Geneva – 10)

He stepped into the open door of the workshop as the PT Cruiser drove past. Chelsea, in the passenger seat, was looking away and Brittany was pointedly facing straight ahead steering with her right hand flipping him the bird as firmly as possible with her left. His grin was hard enough to cut stone.

Gennie came running out the door and down the steps before the car had left the yard. She hit the workshop breathless.

“I’m SO SORRY!” she cried wiping at the tears that seemed to run unbidden down her face. “I didn’t mean to invite them over-I REALLY DIDN’T! Brittany just kept calling and calling and telling me I was kidnapped…brainwashed…She was killing me!”

“What do you care what she said or what she has to say?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know…but it was just going on and on for days.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about it if it was bothering you that much?”

“I didn’t want it to be your problem.”

“Those girls in my house are certainly my problem. How did that happen?”

“I…I finally just told her she would quit about all that if she came to see us…How we were together. And one thing led to another.”

“And you invited her up. Sent her the GPS and brought her to my living room.”

“Please don’t make me leave. When you asked if I was packed I thought you were going to make me leave with them. I almost had a heart attack. Please, please don’t let me fuck this up.”

Moved, he stepped to her and wrapped her in his arms pulling her teary face into his chest. “You made a mistake. We’ll work it out. Your place is here as long as you want it to be.” She calmed down at that and hugged him hard. He held on as long as she wanted, then let her pull slightly back.

“That other thing, you said”, she said.

“Which?”

“The spanking. You’re not really going to spank me are you?”

“I’m afraid so.”

She searched his eyes looking for the joke. “That’s not…I mean…”

“My house, my rules”, he stated simply.

She backed away from him and moved toward the door. She needed more air-was having trouble breathing.

“But what if I don’t want you to?”

“You lost that choice when you disobeyed me.”

“But I didn’t know that you would…we never talked about spanking!”

“Would that have changed what you did? Do I have to lay out the penalties for disobeying me-for breaking rules that we agreed on?”

“We never talked about this.” She shook her head. “This isn’t normal.”

“So I’ve heard. But again, my house my rules.”

Surprising them both she stomped the ground. “You realize I’m an adult don’t you?”

“She said, while stomping her foot”, he said modulating and remaining calm.

“I don’t want this! What if I just say no?”

“They’re probably not far down the road. They’d be happy to take you home with them.”

“I AM HOME!” She stomped again then half turned with her hands across her chest. Her eyes were leaking again but there was a tiny flame of defiance glowing in them along with something else. Suddenly unsure in the battle of words, he decided to disengage and get on with it. As she watched, he grabbed a stout wooden chair from the shadows with one hand and placed it determinedly between them in the sunshine. He sat on it-hands on his thighs.

“Get over here.”

She wanted to stop crying, but the tears continued to roll unabated. She stole a glance toward the house as if considering an escape. She wanted to be able to take a deep breath. She wanted to swallow. She wanted her knees to stop shaking. She wanted to turn her back on him and walk away. Instead, she did the last thing she thought she wanted to do. She turned and walked toward him.

(Continuing…)

Chloe – The Finale

Continued from Chloe – Part 3

Chloe was sitting on the edge of her bed facing the door seemingly rubbing at her thigh. With the damn creaky floors, Chloe knew she was right outside the door, but wouldn’t look up. Just sat there fiddling with her leg. The shower brush was on the bed beside her.

Karen approached and looked down at her daughter’s leg. She was making what looked to be little tic tac toe scratches on her thigh with her fingernail. “Stop that”, Karen said, tenderly cupping her head in her hand. Then, sitting beside her, she wet her finger and wiped the dry, white marks away with her hand. Self-conscious, Chloe wiped at them too and pulled the skirt lower.

Karen felt the spine melting out of her. “What am I going to do with you?”

“I think we both know that”, Chloe mumbled through a mouthful of cotton without looking up.

“Look, Chloe. I…”

Chloe’s heart was racing and her eyes were burning. She could not bear to hear another lecture, another session of having her own words thrown back at her and having to listen to what a shit she was. She knew that. I’m sorry Mom, was all she was thinking but she couldn’t make herself say that. Not right now. Not that it wasn’t true, but if she said that now-just apologized-Karen would believe her. She would forgive her and not do what she came upstairs to do. What she needed her to do.

Chloe twisted on the bed and laid herself quickly over her mother’s lap. Once there she reached back and pulled her skirt up as best she could, exposing her panty-clad rear. She was wearing skimpy blue panties that Karen had never seen and she chose to ignore the fact that her daughter was matching her underwear to her skirt. She had an idea of where this evening had been headed.

“Be my Mom alright? You can be my friend later. Now you need to be my mom!”

Jarred, Karen swallowed her surprise and still-borne response, remembering what Deena had told her. Christ, had she had been so blind to what her daughter needed from her? It had always been about what she wanted, what she needed from her daughter. How had she missed the signals being sent her way?

“Alrighty then”, said Karen, tightening her grip around her daughter’s waist shrugging off the feeling that she was a player in someone else’s drama. When she brought the first swat down heavily on Chloe’s right cheek they both said “OW!” Karen silently with an-O-open mouth and Chole not so quietly. It had been awhile, but Karen knew the feel of wood on bottom-something her daughter was about to learn.

At the moment, Chole’s thoughts were more along the line of “be careful what you wish for” but by the third smack of the brush had degenerated into a mishmash of “OW-Ouch! She’s really beating my ass! Jesus! Jesus! This hurts-HURTS! Ow! OW!” She managed to bite her lip and not yell too much but couldn’t stop the wriggling.

Suddenly remembering her own sessions over Chef Tony’s lap Karen switched the paddle to her left hand and quickly grabbed her daughter’s panties and yanked them down. Something obviously unanticipated.

“NO MOM!” Chloe yelled and reached back. Too late to grab her underwear, she instead covered her bared bottom with her hand palm up. “Not on the bare, Mom! Please!”

“Take your hand away or I will swat it.” She swatted her moderately on the back of the leg.

“Ouch! OK….”

Chloe, having begun to cry despite herself, pulled a pillow down and buried her face in it. A thin sheath of cotton would not seem to offer much protection from a stout bath brush, but the first contact of wood on bare skin was electric. “Jesus! She’s spanking my bare ass!! My BARE ASS” echoed through Chloe’s brain as she yelped into the pillow. Karen delivered smack after smack to her reddening bottom. She kicked and swam not able to avoid the blows but neither could she register that every swat was a tad lighter than the one before.

Karen, even now determined to be more attentive to her daughter’s needs, watched her reactions and listened carefully to her cries. When Chloe stopped wriggling and instead pushed her legs straight back tightening her bum into two hard apples Karen decided the punishment was over. She dropped the brush back onto the bed as the girl relaxed, continuing to cry softly.

Karen grabbed the panties that were bunched at Chole’s knees and pulled them gently up, covering her bottom. She primly dropped the skirt back in place, only then patting Chloe’s aching back side.

“That should about do it”, she said. “Come on, get up”.

Chloe pushed herself up and sat on the bed where she had before eyes focused on the carpet.  Karen got up and snapped tissues from a box on the bedside table. “Here”, she said putting them in front of Chloe’s face. “Let’s see if we can get along for a while”, she said stroking the top of her head.

Chloe didn’t look up but seemed to nod.

“You’re done for the night,” Karen told her heading for the door.  Get ready for bed. No computer, no phone….”

“OK….” Came the tissue-muffled answer.

Downstairs Karen poured a thick glass of tooth achingly cold vodka over ice and headed for the front porch. The cool of the evening sliced hard into the heat running through her and she almost shivered. Tossing a few cushions aside she settled onto the wicker glider and finally, finally sighed deeply emptying her lungs then refilling-once, twice…sip. Repeat. She had thought about calling Deena but didn’t; wanting this time for herself and Chloe in case…

She heard the door opening behind her.

“Mom?”

“Yeah, honey?”

“Can I come out?”

“Sure.” Karen tossed the cushions beside her onto the floor. Chloe had changed into pajama bottoms and a long-sleeved Carroll High cheerleader T-shirt. She flopped down beside her mother and let her head loll onto her shoulder.

Karen took her offered hand. “How are you doing?” she asked.

“My butt is SO sore…”

“I hope you’re not looking for an apology.”

“Nope.”

They sat just so for a few moments, Karen breathing the soft scent of Chloe’s hair.

“I know I still don’t have car privileges so you think you can take me to school in the morning?”

“Isn’t what’s his face picking you up?”

“Ah…I don’t think that would be right. I’m breaking up with him tomorrow.”

“Really?” Karen asked, happily surprised. “Why?”

She felt Chloe shrug and knew there would be no other explanation forthcoming right now. And she was fine with that. As they sat in silence, slowly rocking back and forth, Karen felt her eyes burning but was unwilling to let go of her daughter’s hand to rub them.

She let the tear slide softly down her cheek.

Breakfast With the Bests

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From “A Beaten Belle” tumblr

(The morning after Nightcap IV)

Large and airy, with a wall of windows overlooking the gardens facing the sunrise, it was a perfect breakfast kitchen which, having slept late, they really didn’t have time for this morning. Small price to pay. Rebecca, dressed for work in clinging dark jeans and a green polo was rinsing the few dishes they’d used for their wheat toast and yogurt. Franklin, as always, was a study in choreographed nonchalance from his carefully scuffed thousand dollar Russian calf ankle boots up through his washed out jeans and checked shirt. His briefcase, a sleek leather number with more buckles and straps than a saddle, sat open beside him as he read the Wall Street Journal over a cup of strong coffee.

“Well…” he looked up as Bethany padded into the room. “Somebody had trouble getting out of bed this morning.” And it looked like Bethany had just. Her hair was stuck in stiff whirls so out of control it looked styled that way. She wore the plush terry robe that was left in her room and, as evidenced by how it gapped and draped, nothing underneath.

Her smile cracked one side of her face but didn’t do much to open her puffy eyes as she flopped into the chair opposite Franklin. “”Coffee?” asked Rebecca over her shoulder.

“Please…”

She shifted as Rebecca set the coffee in front of her and crossed her legs allowing the robe to fall open to mid thigh. She took a moment to sip before covering it back over. Best had gone back to the paper but Rebecca had seen and looked subtly away. She always had trouble reconciling what goes on at night with the supposed normalcy of daylight living. This was her issue alone-Franklin thrived living in a state of constant dusk.

Bethany reached into the robe’s pocket and brought out a small envelope that she pushed across the table. Franklin put the paper aside and opened it. The ten fifty dollar bills inside were sharply identical with edges that looked like they could slice a banana. He took one and held it up to the light admiringly. He sniffed it. Then he rubbed it between thumb and fingers before laying it back on the table. He placed a couple of the others on top of it-showing the serial numbers-all different, of course, and non-sequential. “Yours?” he asked looking up.

“No!” she said sharply. “The real thing. Legal tender for all debts, public and….private.”

“Teasing”, he said placing the bills back in the envelope. Then he slid it back. She raised an eyebrow. “We spoke”, he said nodding toward his wife. “This isn’t necessary anymore. You’ve become a part of the fabric of our lives. We don’t need this.”

“It’s just a token, you understand”, she said. “It doesn’t really…”

Franklin flipped the back of his hand in the air-a light dismissive gesture. “Give it to your church, or the food bank. But not to us.”

Her smile, still no more than a fold in the puffy marshmallow of her face widened a little, pulling her eyes closed. The girl needed a cold shower. “Thank you. Thank you both.”

“No worries”, Franklin said. “Now show.”

That opened her eyes. She glanced at both, then stood and turned her back slowly. They didn’t want her to show them her ass, they wanted her to present her bottom and reveal the evidence of their shared evening. She leaned over placing one hand on the table, then dropping her eyes to the floor, pulled her robe up with the other slowly-not stopping until it was draped over her back.

The golden morning sun bathed Bethany’s bottom. The left cheek showed some pink tinges from the night before with most of the bruising that she particularly liked to carry with her for a day or two at least, was concentrated on the right side where the end of the cane bit. Rebecca frowned at that knowing Franklin would not be pleased.

“Very nice”, Franklin pronounced and Bethany straightened allowing the robe to fall. She turned to face them again but the robe had loosened and draped slightly open. She ignored it and instead ran her fingers through her hair, pushing it back away from her face.

“What do you have on tap for today?” Franklin asked her.

“Oh…not much. I left today open. I’ll be out of here right away”, she added quickly.

“No need to rush. In fact, no need to leave. Why don’t you hang here today? We both have errands to run that will tie us up most of the day so you’ll have the run of the place. Hang by the pool, use the sauna-hot tub. The gym…Make it like a vacation day. A spa day. What do you think, honey?”

Rebecca had been distracted and wasn’t really paying close attention but answered, “Sure” quickly.

“There is one…condition though”, Franklin said.

“What would that be?”

“You have to be naked. All day.”

“All day?”

“Yep. Pool’s secluded, deck…I want you haunting my house a bare ghost while we’re away…and it probably won’t be all, all day-we’ll be back in the afternoon.”

“Deal” she said. “I could use a spa day. Thank you.”

“Excellent. But…uh. It starts now.”

“Starts?”

“The naked part.”

Bethany’s eyes sparkled as she bit her lower lip and slowly opened the robe slipping it over one shoulder then the other. It fell to the floor as she raised her arms beside her in a silent “TA-DA!” Her young breasts clung tightly to her rib cage and flat stomach tapered to the tight black thatch that Rebecca, leaning against the sink, could still feel in her mouth.

Then, like a girl off to school, Bethany kissed them both on the cheek and walked out feeling the four eyes on her bruised bottom.

“Did you see…”

“I saw.”

“Do you need a refresher on proper caning technique?”

“No!” she said too quickly suddenly nervous. “No…I don’t…I just got carried away.” The silence hung and she felt a need to break it-to further plead her case. “I was too…God, excited….”

“You were too excited. That’s OK. Just remember it’s her you need to be concerned about. Once she is getting everything she needs, just how she needs it, you can give in to your own needs. Right?”

“Of course, right. I’m sorry…” After what she thought was an appropriate pause, she asked “Did we talk about not taking her money anymore?”

He made that dismissive flipping motion with his hand again. “Only three of the bills were real.”

“Really? Were they hers, like you said?”

“No. Better than hers. She is good. But whoever did those bills is an artist.” He slid off into thought for a moment.

“What will you do?” she asked.

“To be determined, sweetheart. To be determined…” his voice trailed a moment then he perked up as if remembering something. “All in due time. But for now-some correction is in order.”

“Please Franklin…”

“And as I’ve got to get to the airport it’s going to have to be corner time for you.”

“Franklin…” she whined.

“Set your phone for 15 minutes and put your nose over there…” he pointed unnecessarily to the designated corner that she knew too well.

“I’m late as it is. You know how Charla….”

“As I said, set your phone for 20 minutes and put your nose over there.”

She crossed her arms over her chest loosely and looked at him; more pleading than glaring.

“Twenty minutes going once….going twice.”

“Alright”, she huffed, knowing that 30 minutes in the corner would be more than she could stand.

She moved to her spot and got her nose close enough to the walls that her breath bounced back and washed over her face. She set her phone for twenty minutes and placed it on the counter. Then, with a sigh she could feel, unsnapped and lowered her jeans. Then her underwear. They clung above her knees as she let her arms dangle. That was the bitch-what to do with her hands for twenty minutes.

She felt Franklin’s breath on her neck. “Bethany has a sweet bum”, he whispered to the back of her head. “You have a magnificent ass!”

“You know what Charla’s going to do to it if she catches me waltzing in late again.”

“I love you in stripes baby”, he whispered, patting her fulsome cheek.