Category Archives: FM

If You Play With Fire

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“Fuck. Fuck.  A thousand times fuck.”

“I don’t think that’s how the saying goes.”

“A thousand times fuck off, Caleb.  How’s that?”

“Better.  What are we going to do?”

Jade looked around at the backyard, which was currently more ash than grass.  Lisa was out of town, and Jade had had some friends over to sit around the fire pit in the mild winter weather.  That in itself wasn’t a problem; Jade was an adult, and plenty old enough to have a contained party at her house.  This meant that she was too old to forget to put the fire out before she had gone inside and fallen into a deep sleep in the wee hours.  Her best friend, Caleb, had slept over and felt partially responsible.  He had convinced her to drag out the fire pit in the first place, and had gone to sleep after she had.  Unfortunately, he was also just as much at a loss over what to do now.  It a total fluke that the grass had caught fire, but a very avoidable fluke if they had just made sure to put the cover on and the flames out.

“I can fix this.  I can fix this.  I can fix this,” Jade was mumbling to herself as she walked around the backyard.  Caleb looked doubtful, but ready to do whatever he could to help.  Unfortunately, it was at that moment that he heard a car pull up in the driveway.  His eyebrows knit together worriedly as he said cautiously, “Hey Jade…”

She looked up, then followed his gaze toward the driveway.  Her view was obstructed by the house, but she read the signs.  Caleb turned to see her shoulders visibly sag.  He couldn’t blame her.  He’d had Miss Harley in high school, and she could be scary when she wanted to be.  He shivered a little as he remembered the only time he’d ever been in trouble with her, and the telling-off he’d received.  He’d seen her again since Jade had moved in here, but it was always brief hellos and goodbyes.

“You gotta go, man.”

He looked at Jade as he heard the car door shut.  Miss Harley would be walking into the house now.  Jade was making her way toward the back door.  She had her time-to-face-the-music face on.  He followed her, but she turned to him as she reached for the metal handle of the screen door and repeated herself, “You gotta go.  Just go around the house.”

“I have to get my wallet and keys.  Besides, if you’re gonna get yelled at, I should get yelled at, too.”

Jade snorted.  “Okay, tough guy.”

He rolled his eyes and followed her inside.  Lisa was putting her purse down at the kitchen counter and looking confused.  “Hey guys,” she said.  “Why does it smell like smoke?  Is someone burning leaves?  It’s kinda late in the year for that.”

Jade took a deep breath, walked over to the window facing the backyard, and yanked open the blinds.  Caleb watched Miss Harley’s eyes go wide and she walked quickly over to stand next to Jade and look out the window.  “What the hell happened?” she asked, taking in the large, vaguely circular patch of burnt grass covering her usually nice little backyard.

“I had some friends over and we got the fire pit out, and it got really windy later, and I guess some of the dried leaves in the pile blew out and…” She made a sweeping motion with her hand.

“It burned this much before you could stop it?” Lisa’s eyes were still wide with disbelief, confusion, and worry.  Jade glanced at Caleb, then said to the older woman, “Can I say goodbye to him first?”

Caleb saw Miss Harley’s features shift, as she put on her impassive teacher face and said, “Of course.”  But Caleb didn’t want Jade getting yelled at by herself, not when he had been just as dumb.  “It wasn’t her fault,” he blurted out.  “I went to bed later than she did and I should have doused it.  It was mostly just embers but still, it was my bad.  I’ll pay for the damage.”

Jade closed her eyes in frustration and brought both her hands to her forehead as she sighed, “Caaleeebbb.” Miss Harley’s attention all on the younger woman, and she spoke through her teeth now.  “You went to bed with a fire still going?”

Caleb started to interject again but Lisa held up a silencing hand without even looking in his direction, her eyes still on Jade, who slowly cracked her eyes open and said, “Yes, ma’am.”  Caleb felt compelled to look out for his best friend and couldn’t stop himself from interrupting. “I said I would put it out though.  It’s my fault, Miss Harley.”

Lisa’s eyes snapped over to look at the young man in her kitchen, and he took an involuntary step back, though she hadn’t moved an inch in his direction.  “Her house, her responsibility Caleb.  You need to leave.”

“I’m not leaving!  I’ll help… clean it up,” he said uncertainly.

Jade gave him a frustrated look and said “There’s no more fire, nothing we can do right now.  Just go.”

“I’m not going,” he said stubbornly.  He wasn’t sure why he felt so sure that he needed to stay, but he did.  He wasn’t the best guy who ever walked the earth but he was loyal to a fault, and something about this felt like trouble, though he couldn’t figure out what exactly he was afraid was going to happen.  Lisa threw her hands up, saying to Jade as she walked away, “Work it out.  I’ll be back down in thirty minutes.”  And she grabbed her small rolling suitcase and walked down the hall toward the stairs and up to her room.

As soon as they heard the first stair creak, Jade pulled the blinds shut and walked over to Caleb, grabbing his wallet from the small dining table and shoving it into his chest before physically pushing him toward the front door.  “Bye, Caleb.”

He dug his feet in, pushing back against her.  He was several inches taller than her and lanky, and easily turned around to avoid being herded.  “I’m not going!  What is she gonna do to you?  She can do it to me, too.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.  Just go home, Caleb!”

“No,” he said, crossing his arms stubbornly and planting his feet.  “I’m staying.”

“You know what, fine.  Stay.  Enjoy being a hero.  It’s not gonna make my ass feel better tomorrow, though, I bet you that.”  She stomped down the hall and yelled up the steps, “We’re ready, Lisa!” in an irritated voice, though barely five minutes had passed.  She stomped back into the living room and sat on the couch, arms crossed, adding a quick, “Come on, Caleb.  Come sit.  Let’s wait on the grand finale together.”  He made his way nervously toward the couch and did sit next to her.  After a few minutes of silent fuming, she even uncrossed her arms and leaned against him.  He didn’t speak, but watched the ticking second hand of the clock on the wall.

A few minutes later Lisa did come downstairs; they heard her walk through the kitchen and rummage for something before she entered the living room. Jade groaned as she saw the wooden spoon in her mentor’s hand, and Caleb’s eyes were glued to it.

“He’s still here?” Lisa asked Jade.

“He’s too stubborn for his own good.”

“And you’re okay with it?”

“It’s not my favorite thing but I just want to get it over with.”

“And does he–”

“I’m right here!” Caleb interjected indignantly, though as both women turned their full attention on him, he suddenly wished he was anywhere else.  Lisa contemplated him for a moment, then pointed at a chair behind her. “Sit,” she said, pointing. Caleb looked over at Jade, who made her eyes wide as if to say “what are you waiting for?!” So, Caleb got up from the couch and moved to the chair, and Lisa took his spot.

She put her arm around Jade and said, “Do I need to go over why you are about to be spanked?” The younger woman felt her face begin to burn with embarrassment. Now that the moment was here, having Caleb around seemed like the worst possible idea.  She resisted the urge to glance in his direction and just nodded.  Lisa must have been feeling sympathetic, because she accepted the nonverbal response.  But of course, Caleb wasn’t finished yet.

“You can’t do this!  You can’t… spank her.  She’s 27 years old!”

This time it was Jade who exploded, leaning forward and shaking her hands in Caleb’s direction.  “You see any handcuffs?  Does this place look like a prison to you?  I told you to leave.  You stayed.  So shut the fuck up, Caleb.  It’s bad enough that you’re here without you talking. Besides, you’ll get your turn,” she added caustically. “Fair’s fair, right?”

And before anything else could be said, she flung herself across Lisa’s lap.  The teacher rubbed her back for a moment as she shared a silent exchange with Caleb.  He had finally been startled into silence, and she felt confident he would remain that way for a while.  She leaned down, running her fingers through Jade’s hair and whispering things he could not hear, though he noticed Jade seemed to scoot even closer to Miss Harley’s body and her right arm curled around the woman’s left ankle.  When the first swat landed, he jumped at the noise, though Jade didn’t seem fazed.  The soft thud of a hand on denim didn’t last long.  Soon the girl’s pants were around her ankles, and Caleb watched as his friend’s brown skin began to turn pink around the edges of her underwear.  He winced with every swat.

Jade was being unusually stoic.  For all her bravado, she usually spent her time over Lisa’s lap whining and kicking, sometimes arguing about how unfair things were and sometimes promising the moon if she thought that’s what Lisa wanted from her.  Today, though, she felt guilty, angry, and embarrassed.  So she didn’t do much wiggling… at first.

Soon after Jade’s body began to shift, Lisa broke her steady rhythm and reached over to grab the spoon.  She clutched it firmly in her hand and leaned down again to talk in Jade’s ear.  Caleb was transfixed; he was mortified to be watching and equally unable to look away.  He heard his friend groan into the pillow, her fist coming down in front of her to bang the couch.  Then he watched as Lisa slowly pulled down the black and white striped underwear she wore, revealing a bottom that was already a dusky shade of pink.  Soon the spanking had resumed and this time it was a wooden spoon landing on bare skin.  The sound was distinctly different and his mouth was hanging open as he watched white oval patches appear and disappear.  Jade was making lots of noises and moving all over Lisa’s lap by the time the woman finished.  Caleb seemed not to exist as the older woman rubbed Jade’s back and bottom, then fixed her underwear and pulled her up into a hug before sending her with a push toward the corner of the living room.  She didn’t even glance in Caleb’s direction.

Miss Harley, however, shifted her full attention to the young man sitting in her living room.  “Well?” she asked.  “Are you ready to go home now?”

“No,” he replied immediately, though his voice sounded much higher than it normally did.

“You are going to take the same consequences as Jade?”

“Yes,” he said, and then at her raised eyebrow, “…ma’am.  Yes, ma’am.”

“Good,” she replied, “because I happen to agree with you.  You deserve a spanking almost as much as she did.  Come here.”

Caleb rose, and walked unsteadily to the side of the couch where his former teacher still sat.  She gestured at his belt and jeans.  “Undo those, please.”  He did so, fumbling and blushing the entire time, and then took the hand she offered him.  She guided him down over her lap, and adjusted his body until she felt comfortable.  She wrapped her left arm around his waist, then rested her right hand on his denim clad bottom for only a moment before she brought it up and back down.  Caleb’s eyes darted back and forth as he thought about what was happening.  It stung, though barely.  But she was spanking him.  It was really happening.

He was almost comfortable, and he began to wonder if maybe she would leave his jeans up because it was his first time.  No such luck– she pulled them down without so much as a warning, and when her palm landed on the thin cloth of his blue boxers, he heard himself yelp.  There was suddenly nothing comfortable about this position, and he tensed his arms in an effort not to reach back.  Before he could analyze his thoughts on this second phase of the spanking, she began to scold him.

“You know, I think Jade is fully aware of what went wrong last night, Caleb. I think that you think you’re getting spanked because you stuck around. Because you’re still here. Well let me make something very clear to you,” Miss Harley said, picking up the pace and adding some strength to her swats, “you are being spanked because you made poor choices. Under no circumstances should either one of you have gone into the house for the night, much less crawled into bed, with a fire still burning.”

Caleb was unable to control his rear, though no amount of wiggling seemed to keep the teacher’s hand from landing on his quickly reddening behind. He made constant noises, little grunts of pain, and felt his blush intensify at her scolding.

“And it’s not because I’m upset, or just because there are physical consequences for girls and boys who misbehave in this house. It’s not because of the damage to my property, though I am not particularly thrilled about that.” Her hand seemed to be finding the meeting of his thigh and bottom more and more often at this  point in the lecture. “You put people needlessly in danger. It may have felt like a low risk, but it was also low reward, young man. You are lucky the fire just burnt a big hole in my yard. What if the wind had carried those escaped leaves further? To my house? To the neighbors’ houses?”

“I’m sorry!” Caleb said, straining to stay still.

“No,” Miss Harley replied, “sorry comes next.” She stopped spanking, and the young man took several deep breaths; his backside burned! She rubbed his back and bottom as she spoke, though not to him. “Jade, come over and have a seat.”

“Lisa…”

“I’m not asking, I’m telling.” Caleb heard the chair he had vacated scoot a little, then a hiss from his friend as she sat. He didn’t turn his head to see, instead becoming engrossed in the floral pattern of the sofa.  Miss Harley began talking to him again, saying “We’re almost finished, Caleb. I wish it was over now, but this was a big deal. Very big.” And the next thing he knew, his boxers has been whisked down to his knees. He reached back with his right hand, grabbing for them and turning his head without thinking.  He made eye contact with Jade, squeaked and jerked his hand back as he turned toward the couch again.

“Give me that hand,” he heard the voice above him say firmly, and he reluctantly did as he was told, slowly reaching his right hand back and having it grasped around the wrist.  The next thing he knew, pain was exploding on his already sore bottom and he completely forgot about Jade, and being embarrassed, and anything that existed in the whole wide world besides the awful smack of the wooden spoon on his hot bare skin.

Thankfully, it seemed to be finished almost as soon as it was started. The throbbing ache in his bottom continued, and she let go of his hand, rubbed his back and his hair.  He leaned into her comforting touch, needing it more than he had realized he would. Soon, he felt his underwear and jeans being pulled up, though he could have done without the jeans. He sat up and felt himself being hugged, and he hugged her back hard. He felt like he should say something, but he had no idea what. He opened his mouth, and all that came out was “ouch.”

Both women burst into laughter, and he peeked up to see Jade smiling at him. “You’re an idiot for staying,” she said affectionately. He grinned back at her. Maybe she was right, but not all the way right. His bottom hurt and his pride was bruised, but he wasn’t worried or anxious like he had been all morning. He felt like he had just joined a secret club, one with high dues, but totally worth the cost.

I Spy With My Little Eye

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A.J. and Delisa walked casually up to the door of the next house on their sales route. Delisa tugged the edge of her black shorts down a bit as A.J. knocked on the door. They were a part of the intramural volleyball team, and they had joined with several other schools to raise money for one of the local animal shelters by selling cosmetics. They had dressed in their uniforms and wore bright smiles, hoping to charm the neighbors into supporting the cause. As they waited for an answer, A.J. looked over her reflection in the mirror, adjusting her blue and white jersey and pulling back a strand of her shoulder-length waves. The sophomore had long legs and a lean torso, and was several inches taller than her companion. Where A.J. had hazel eyes and freckles, her teammate, a junior this year, had dark features and a more solid build. She was short for a volleyball player, but she still managed to look intimidating when she donned her uniform.

They grew silent as they waited for someone to answer the door, then awkward as the time stretched. “Did you notice a car in the driveway?” Delisa asked, looking toward the side of the house. A.J. made a noncommittal noise as the girls walked around the edge of the yard. As they rounded the corner of the house, she stopped dead, and Delisa all but knocked the tall girl over before regaining her own balance and pausing as well. She followed A.J.’s gaze and felt her jaw drop as the two girls looked through the kitchen window. They dropped into a crouch just below the sill.

Standing in the middle of the kitchen was a naked man with his fingers laced behind the back of his head and his feet shoulder-width apart. The girls gazed at his body, their eyes settling on the red skin of his backside, and Delisa giggled involuntarily. A.J. elbowed her in the ribs as they heard the front door finally open. They heard a vaguely familiar voice call out, and then they heard the door shut. Delisa breathed a sigh of relief that they were out of sight, then nearly choked as they saw the woman walk back into the kitchen.

It was Julie Nix, long-term girlfriend of Chris Anders, their coach. She came to almost every game, and sometimes brought cookies for the team after practice. Julie didn’t look so nurturing at the moment, though. Her long curly brown hair was hanging straight, and instead of her usual jeans and t-shirt she was wearing a short black skirt and a low cut blouse paired with dangerously high red heels. She carried with her a long dark wooden paddle, which caused an immediate reaction from the man in the kitchen. His hands flew down to cover his backside and he took a small step back, his shoulders tensing and his head moving slowly from side to side. They couldn’t hear what Julie said, but it had an effect on the man. His hands were back on his head in an instant, although Delisa noted that his knees seemed to be trembling slightly now.

“Is that Coach Anders?” she whispered urgently at her teammate. Neither of them had budged from their perch below the window; they seemed unable to tear their eyes away from the scene in front of them. Delisa shook her head in disbelief. “No. I mean, yes, I guess, it has to be, right? Miss Julie’s not the type to two-time somebody, and he’s got the same build…” A.J. made a noise of agreement; perhaps a noise that was a little more enthusiastic than intended. She wasn’t the only one appreciating the view, though. There wasn’t a player on their team who hadn’t been curious about what lay beneath their conservative coach’s workout clothes before, and Delisa was well aware that their timing could not have been better.

Julie was walking around him now, her expression stern and unforgiving. Occasionally she’d reach out and deliver a little smack or a pinch, and once she used the pointed toe of her shoe to push the coach’s feet a little wider apart. To her surprise, A.J. found herself growing aroused as she watched her coach slowly bend over and grab his ankles. She felt her nipples harden and wondered if Delisa was having the same reaction. The girls were leaning against each other as they watched, and Delisa hoped A.J. couldn’t feel the trembling in her thighs. She licked her lips in anticipation as they watched Miss Julie tap the paddle across his red ass. Both girls sucked in their breaths as she raised it high and brought is crashing down so hard that they could hear the muffled thud through the window, followed by a muted cry from their coach.

Julie delivered several more swats to Chris’s now crimson skin before circling slowly around him again. They watched her lips move and they could tell it was taking a lot of effort for their coach to stay in place as he took his licks. She paused again to line up the paddle, and Delisa, without thinking, leaned toward the glass in anticipation, rattling the pane. As the wood cracked down, Julie looked up and made eye contact with the startled girl. Delisa ducked down, tugging A.J. with her and making a beeline for the road. They kept going until they had rounded the block, finally stopping to catch their breath. Delisa leaned forward, hands on her knees, breathing heavily, while A.J. simply collapsed in a fit of giggles on the grass.

Delisa felt the beginning of a smile tug at her own lips. For a minute she’d been terrified that Julie was going to get them in major trouble, but she wasn’t worried now. Miss Julie had recognized her, certainly. But the look Delisa saw before running away wasn’t one of shock or shame or anger. It was only a split second, but Delisa was sure. As the paddle landed the final time, Julie had looked at the girls and smiled…

Speculation

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This story follows I Spy With My Little Eye.

Claudette glanced up from the locker room bench where she was lacing her sneakers at two of her teammates.  A.J. and Delisa had been huddled conspiratorially in the corner most of the morning, casting furtive glances around the room occasionally before returning to their whispered conversation. Before the team captain could think much about it, Coach Anders gave a yell into the echo-y room, telling them to hustle up and get on the court. She tugged her shoulder length blond hair into a high ponytail and made a resolution to keep an eye on her friends during practice.

As they went through their warm-up stretches, Claudette noticed A.J. watching their coach with more intensity than usual. Halfway through the season, this part of practice was routine, with the girls moving on the whistled cues without much of a pause. The tall girl seemed to be watching their coach almost predatorily. Again Claudette had to pause her observations as the team was sent to do laps around the gym. She fell into step beside Whitney, the team’s best server. Whitney had the most toned arms Claudette had ever seen; the girl was always putting in extra time on the weights. She had curly black hair which she kept up and dark brown skin and eyes. A stranger might think Whitney harmless because of her pretty smile and dimples, but her teammates knew that she had a quick temper and strong will- something that had worked to their advantage during games. She was easily riled, and once her dander was up she would use her muscles to slam the ball across the net, barely allowing time for the other team to react.

Claudette watched her pale arm swing next to Whitney’s darker one for a moment before speaking. “What’s with those two?” she asked between breaths, indicating the pair ahead of them. Whitney glanced over, then gave a shrug. “Some thing’s definitely up,” Claudette continued, before being cut off by a yell from Coach Anders. “If you can talk and run, you’re not running hard enough, ladies.” The girls picked up the pace and Claudette let the conversation drop until after practice.

*     *     *

Back in the locker room, the A.J. stripped down to her shorts and sports bra, stopping in front of the mirror to check her reflection. She jumped as Wendy, a dark-haired girl with dazzling blue eye and legs for days, popped her thigh with a towel. A.J. yelped and hopped into the shower as Wendy giggled and re-wound her towel, eyes keen for anyone else taking too long. In the back of the locker room, Claudette took a seat next to Delisa. “What’s the deal, Lucille? You and A.J didn’t take your eyes off Coach all practice.” Whitney was sitting on a nearby bench wiping the sweat from her neck and stomach, and her ears pricked with interest. Delisa felt her face flush as she thought about all she’d seen yesterday, and she hesitated, but Claudette refused to accept anything but the full story.  So eventually, piece by piece, she gave it to her.

A few minutes later, A.J. poked her head out of the shower to find the girls huddled around Delisa. They erupted in giggles when they saw her wet head peak out, and A.J. felt her own cheeks begin to redden. “You told them?” she asked, eyes wide. Delisa, now over her embarrassment, grinned and nodded. A.J. relaxed as she saw the smiles on the faces of her teammates. They didn’t seem shocked or weirded out– in fact, several of them looked downright jealous. They tugged A.J. over by the hem of her towel and made her recount the story again. Rachel, a pretty girl with almond eyes and long straight hair that hung all the way down her back, bit her bottom lip to keep from grinning too much as A.J. described the dark crimson color of their coach’s backside after the spanking, while Mary Elizabeth, the usually quiet redhead setter, practically salivated when she heard about his jumping and twitching with each stroke of the paddle.

They all jumped when they heard a bang on the door and a muffled shout for them to hurry up, stifling their giggles as they hurried to dress and get back out for their final notes and dismissal. Coach Anders noticed the girls exchanging sly looks and made a few comments about their attention spans before releasing them, but he attributed it to nothing more than the Monday blues after too much weekend partying…

*     *     *

Thursday evening girls were once again in the locker room after an extended practice. They had a game the next night against the Wildcats, their school’s biggest rival and the personal sworn enemy of their coach. Usually Coach Anders kept his cool during the game, keeping his comments quiet and encouraging as he paced the sidelines and watched his team, but he sometimes snapped during their games against the old foe.  For an intramural league, theirs was already more competitive than most, due partly to the rivalry and partly to several teams of exceptionally talented players.  Last year he’d been warned twice, almost receiving a sanction for his inflammatory remarks to a line judge. This evening he’d run them hard at practice, with no patience for error, and the girls were tired and sweaty and ready to be home.

Their faces brightened when they heard a cheerful holler from outside the room, followed by the entrance of Julie Nix, Coach Anders’ girlfriend. They returned her smile, happy to note the box of homemade cookies she carried. Most of the girls also looked away quickly as they remembered the story they’d heard earlier that week. It was hard at first glance to imagine Julie as the severe lady who’d paddled their coach. She said hello to the girls and made a idle chitchat while they continued to undress, completely comfortable with her presence. Talk soon turned to the game, and Julie asked if they had any worries about the following day. Kate, their lanky back-up setter, heaved an over-dramatic sigh and jerked her dark braids toward the door. “So long as Coach can keep his big boy pants on this year, we should be fine. We’re better than they are.”

Julie’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “I actually won’t be able to make it to the game. I’ve got a family thing this weekend that I can’t miss.” The girls gave a sweeping “aww” of disappointment. “I’m counting on you to make sure Christopher behaves himself, though,” she added. The offhand comment wouldn’t have phased the team a week ago, but now… now it seemed just a little too pointed. An awkward silence descended, and Wendy let out a awkward giggle. “I wouldn’t want to come home and find that he’d embarrassed me or the school, now would I?” Julie said with a pointed wink at Delisa. “Of course not, Miss Julie,” and it was Claudette who answered. “I think we can handle one silly out-of-hand coach.”

Julie smiled and swept her eyes across the room, making brief eye contact with all eight of the players. “Good,” she said after a moment. “Very good. I’m counting on you.” With that she stood up, gathering her now-empty Tupperware container and taking a few steps toward the door. “Good luck, ladies, and I’ll expect to hear how things go when I return on Monday.”

Witnesses

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A.J. and Delisa walked casually up to the door of the next house on their sales route. Delisa tugged the edge of her black shorts down a bit as A.J. knocked on the door. They were a part of an intramural volleyball team, and they had joined with several other colleges to raise money for one of the local animal shelters by selling cosmetics door-to-door. They had dressed in their uniforms and wore bright smiles, hoping to charm the neighbors into supporting the cause. As they waited for an answer, A.J. looked over her reflection in the mirror, adjusting her blue and white jersey and pulling back a strand of her shoulder-length brown waves. The sophomore had long legs and a lean torso, and was several inches taller than her companion. Where A.J. had hazel eyes and freckles, her teammate, a junior this year, had dark features and a more solid build. She was short for a volleyball player, but she still managed to look intimidating when she donned her uniform.

They grew silent as they waited for someone to answer the door, then awkward as the time stretched. “Did you notice a car in the driveway?” Delisa asked, looking toward the side of the house. A.J. made a noncommittal noise as the girls walked around the edge of the yard. As they rounded the corner of the house, she stopped dead, and Delisa all but knocked the tall girl over before regaining her own balance and pausing as well. She followed A.J.’s gaze and felt her jaw drop as the two girls looked through the kitchen window. They dropped into a crouch just below the sill.

Standing in the middle of the kitchen was a naked man with his fingers laced behind the back of his head and his feet shoulder-width apart. The girls gazed at his body, their eyes settling on the red skin of his backside, and Delisa giggled involuntarily. A.J. elbowed her in the ribs as they heard the front door finally open. They heard a vaguely familiar voice call out, and then they heard the door shut. Delisa breathed a sigh of relief that they were out of sight, then nearly choked as they saw the woman walk back into the kitchen.It was Julie Nix, long-term girlfriend of Chris Anders, their coach. She came to almost every game, and sometimes brought cookies for the team after practice. Julie didn’t look so nurturing at the moment, though. Her long curly brown hair was hanging straight, and instead of her usual jeans and t-shirt she was wearing a short black skirt and a low cut blouse paired with dangerously high red heels. She carried with her a long dark wooden paddle, which caused an immediate reaction from the man in the kitchen. His hands flew down to cover his backside and he took a small step back, his shoulders tensing and his head moving slowly from side to side. They couldn’t hear what Julie said, but it had an effect on the man. His hands were back on his head in an instant, although Delisa noted that his knees seemed to be trembling slightly now.

“Is that Coach Anders?” she whispered urgently at her teammate. Neither of them had budged from their perch below the window; they seemed unable to tear their eyes away from the scene in front of them. Delisa shook her head in disbelief. “No. I mean, yes, I guess, it has to be, right? Miss Julie’s not the type to two-time somebody, and he’s got the same build…” A.J. made a noise of agreement; perhaps a noise that was a little more enthusiastic than intended. She wasn’t the only one appreciating the view, though. There wasn’t a player on their team who hadn’t been curious about what lay beneath their conservative coach’s workout clothes before, and Delisa was well aware that their timing could not have been better.

Julie was walking around him now, her expression stern and unforgiving. Occasionally she’d reach out and deliver a little smack or a pinch, and once she used the pointed toe of her shoe to push the coach’s feet a little wider apart. To her surprise, A.J. found herself growing aroused as she watched her coach slowly bend over and grab his ankles. She felt her nipples harden and wondered if Delisa was having the same reaction. The girls were leaning against each other as they watched, and Delisa hoped A.J. couldn’t feel the trembling in her thighs. She licked her lips in anticipation as they watched Miss Julie tap the paddle across his red ass. Both girls sucked in their breaths as she raised it high and brought is crashing down so hard that they could hear the muffled thud through the window, followed by a muted cry from their coach.

Julie delivered several more swats to Chris’s now crimson skin before circling slowly around him again. They watched her lips move and they could tell it was taking a lot of effort for their coach to stay in place as he took his licks. She paused again to line up the paddle, and Delisa, without thinking, leaned toward the glass in anticipation, rattling the pane. As the wood cracked down, Julie looked up and made eye contact with the startled girl. Delisa ducked down, tugging A.J. with her and making a beeline for the road. They kept going until they had rounded the block, finally stopping to catch their breath. Delisa leaned forward, hands on her knees, breathing heavily, while A.J. simply collapsed in a fit of giggles on the grass.

Delisa felt the beginning of a smile tug at her own lips. For a minute she’d been terrified that Julie was going to get them in major trouble, but she wasn’t worried now. Miss Julie had recognized her, certainly. But the look Delisa saw before running away wasn’t one of shock or shame or anger. It was only a split second, but Delisa was sure. As the paddle landed the final time, Julie had looked at the girls and smiled…

That Wasted Coffee, Though

Standard

Though I pictured the storyteller to be a woman and the spanker to be a man when I wrote this, I’ve read it since with any combination of men and women.  The characters are purposefully nondescript. Use your imagination, and enjoy!

I’m late for work.  Well, almost late.  I’ll officially be late in about four minutes, and the guy in front of me will take at least that long to stutter the non-fat soy something or other order his wife undoubtedly sent him to fetch.  Pathetic.

When he finally steps away from the counter I hold my card out and order a tall latte in a voice that I hope makes it clear that I don’t want whipped cream, I don’t want cinnamon, and I certainly don’t want to tell the chipper barista how my morning is going.  I don’t recognize the girl behind the counter; she’s new and looks frazzled.  If I wasn’t running late I might feel sorry for her, but right now all I feel is impatient, especially when she can’t seem to manage a simple debit transaction.

“Just run it as credit, for Christ’s sake,” I say as I see my order appear at the pick-up counter.  I drum my fingernails loudly right next to the cash register, sure that the people in line behind me are just as irritated with the new girl’s incompetence as I am.

“I’ve got it,” I hear a voice say to my left.  I look over as you slide a few bills across the counter, subtly grabbing my arm above my left elbow as you speak.  You don’t yell or even look angry; quite the opposite, actually, as you flash her a smile that broadcasts relaxation.  I hold out my hand for the card, slipping it casually into my pocket, attempting to look as nonchalant as you, although I’m sure I fail.  I thank the new girl, I make a point to thank her, like I would have done anyway if you hadn’t intervened… I’m almost positive I would have…

When I reach up to grab my coffee you intercept with your free hand, grabbing the cup as you basically march me out of the shop.  As soon as we’re out of the doors you drop it in a nearby trashcan.  “Hey!” I start indignantly, digging my heels in for a second.  I almost lose my balance when you don’t stop, when you don’t even slow your pace, when you just keep us moving right along with the foot traffic toward my office.  “Hush,” you say, “you’re in enough trouble.”

I start to panic as we near my place of work, curious and nervous about what you plan to do.  You’ve spanked me before, sure, but that was play.  We’re spanking buddies, sharing an interest and a few hours every couple of weeks.  You’ve warned me about being polite; we both have a few ground rules we expect each other to follow, and you do not allow your friends to be disrespectful.  But I’m not usually so bad…  it’s just because I was running a little bit late… or so I tell myself, bracing for a battle I’m already sure to lose.  I assume you’re walking me to my building to drive your point home, that I will have to make an appointment with you later this week to deal with my tantrum.

When we reach the elevators and you’re still with me, I look at you questioningly, nervously.  You simply raise your eyebrows and push the up button.  This is not good.  When we walk past the secretary, I have enough sense to have her hold all calls, a smile plastered on my face.  She’ll assume you’re a client, although she’ll probably be surprised when she sees you begin to close the blinds, as if this is your office and not mine.

Now I know a spanking is imminent and I really start to get scared.  I find my tongue and lose my good sense and start babbling, handing you excuses and ultimatums and outright refusals, telling you that you have no right to be here, to do this, to assume you are in charge!

Of course, while I’m doing that, you finish closing the blinds and you take my desk chair, placing it in the middle of the room.  When you grab my wrist and guide me to stand between your legs as you sit, my defiance slides seamlessly into begging—begging you not to spank me, not now, and please please not here where anyone might be listening.  I try to bargain with you, even as you begin to unbutton my pants, even as I automatically place my hands on my head, where you’d expect them to be for this part.

You tug my pants down, then lift my shirt up before putting me over your lap.  I think about how grown up I felt just this morning as I carefully pressed my clothes, how professional, and how now I feel like a little kid who was just playing dress up.

You don’t waste any time, spanking me hard and fast, easily keeping me in place when I begin to kick and wiggle and occasionally squeal, despite my efforts to be quiet.  My underwear are whisked down soon enough, and I imagine the split-second white print of your hand on my reddening backside as I try not cry.  When you finally hear the first sob escape, you don’t stop or even slow down.  Instead, you actually swing your arm a little wider, a little harder, a little lower, blasting the tops of my thighs, so I renew my kicking and abandon any hopes of stoic silence, so I begin to cry in earnest.

You stop as abruptly as you began, scooping me up into your lap, rubbing my back while I cling to your shirt, sniffling and apologizing and promising to be nice from now on.  Once I’ve calmed down you slide me off, so I’m again standing in front of you.  You gently pull up my undies and pants, straighten my shirt, button it where it came undone.  Leaving your hands on the sides of my thighs, you look up at my red eyes meaningfully, ask me what I intend to do tomorrow before work.

“Apologize to the coffee shop lady,” I choke out, my eyes welling up with new tears as you stare me down.  “Good,” you say, wiping a stray tear off my cheek with your thumb.  I have every intention of apologizing, although I will promise you almost anything in this moment, anything to please you, and to keep my bottom safe from further damage.

You pat my leg and then stand, pulling me into a hug, planting a kiss on my forehead.  You put my chair back behind the desk, and then send me toward it with a gentle push.  One more hug and you’re heading out, calling back over your shoulder as you leave, “I’ll see you this evening.”

That’s when I remember that we have a play date tonight, that you have been very naughty this week, that I ordered a brand new paddle for the occasion.  I even manage a slight smile as I sit down gingerly.  I look at my afternoon schedule… maybe I can even take off a few minutes early to check the mail.  I begin to look forward to the end of the day, and my mood improves… drastically…

A Promise Kept

Standard

Andrew looked up sharply from his laptop to his front door, where someone had just delivered several forceful knocks. “BRB” he typed quickly to a friend as he pushed back his chair and went to check the door. He looked through the peephole to see a woman with long curly brown hair standing with her arms crossed and her face tilted down. He didn’t know her, but she looked unintimidating, so he flipped the lock and turned the handle. He turned out to be wrong on both assessments.

She looked up as the door opened and he recognized her now, although he’d never before seen her in real life. She was shorter than he’d imagined, and less… smiley. In fact, her mouth was set in a hard line which belied most of the pictures she’d sent. “Hi,” he said, too shocked to say anything else. “Are you going to let me in?” she asked, moving her hands to her hips. He nodded mutely, stepping back and shutting the door behind them.

“You were supposed to call me,” she said, her back to him as she took her coat off and laid it on a nearby chair. Her eyes swept over his living room, assessing the surroundings. Andrew tried to reply, but he was still struggling to figure out exactly what was happening. She moved as if she knew this place, though he knew she’d never been to his state before, much less his apartment. Finally he settled on another nod, his mind concentrating on the immediate toll her presence was taking on him. His face was flushed, surely red, and he could feel the heat rising up from the collar of his shirt. His palms were sweaty and he pressed them against his pants in an attempt to stave off the clamminess.

“I got tired of waiting,” she continued, “and if I’m not mistaken, you have a paddle around here some place. Get it.” Andrew felt unable to do anything but obey. He walked to his room, staring blankly at his collection of spanking implements for a moment before grabbing the smallish wooden paddle and the longer fraternity style one. When he came back to the living room she had removed her heels and rolled up the sleeves of her white blouse, so she resembled a stern librarian-turned-barefoot-hippy, although there was no sign of peace and love in her expression. She gestured at the coffee table as she took a seat on the sofa, straightening her long skirt and then patting her lap.

Andrew walked obediently to her side, setting the paddles where she’d indicated and taking his place by her knee. She briskly undid his belt buckle and unzipped his pants, whisking them down around his ankles before tugging his hand gently down. He slowly laid his long frame across her waiting lap, bracing his hands on the floor and feeling his legs hanging awkwardly in the air as she pushed his body forward, adjusting him to her satisfaction.

He felt her hand rest on his backside, felt the heat from her palm through the thin material of his boxers, thought about how that heat would soon be coming from his skin, not hers, and shivered nervously. “So your evenings have become so packed that you can’t call a friend to say hello?” she asked, patting his bottom firmly. “You can’t spare 30 minutes to check in these days?” Her hand came down harder, still not quite hurting, just making her presence known, keeping him aware that she was in control of the situation, of the spanking, of him. His muscles twitched as she continued scolding him, and he felt his ears begin to burn. “You can take time to send me a few short emails, just enough to make me curious, to make me a little worried, to promise a real conversation, but you can’t take the time to actually talk to me?” and this time she brought her hand down with real force behind it, and he grunted in surprise. She continued her hard smacks for a few minutes, and he tried to get outside of himself, to analyze what was happening, to not think about how he was upended over the lap of a near stranger.

He looked for patterns in the carpet, noticed his lost remote under the couch, saw that her toenails were painted a fresh bright blue. It was hard to stay distracted when he felt a breath of cool air on his bottom as she pulled his underwear down. She tapped his hip and he lifted as best he could, so that she could pull them all the way past his knees. Without a pause she resumed the spanking, her hand coming down over and over on his exposed skin. Andrew thought that her hand must be stinging as much as his backside, just as she stopped and reached over his body for one of the paddles.

The wood felt cool as she tapped it against his bare bottom, getting a feel for the implement, and he knew it was the smaller of the two. The spanking began again, and whatever hopes he’d had of maintaining his poise vanished after a few minutes of the relentless strokes. He heard small sounds escape his lips and he was powerless to keep them in. His left hand lifted from the floor several times, though he resisted the urge to reach back. Eventually the paddle slowed, and she began to talk again, accenting her words with hard swats to his bottom. “Do you think it’s a good idea not to keep in touch with me, Andrew?” He took a shuddery breath and managed a weak “no,” followed immediately by a volley of spanks to the tops of this thighs. “No?” came her voice above his head. “No ma’am no ma’am no ma’am,” he replied quickly, exhaling heavily and feeling drops of sweat bead at his temples.

“Do you think it’s very courteous to make promises and not keep them?”

“No ma’am!”

“And do you think some time in the corner might help you remember to call your friends when you say you will?”

“Yes ma’am!”

“Good boy,” she said, and he heard the paddle being set on the table and then felt her fingers pulling at his shoulders. He scrambled up to stand beside her. She moved his hands to his head and pointing him toward the corner by the window, planting a firm swat on his bright pink backside as he shuffled over.
He stood there with his nose by the wall, the real shock of everything that just happened settling over him. His muscles clenched involuntarily as he replayed the events of the last half hour, their aching heat the only thing that convinced him this wasn’t a dream. He had just been spanked, bare bottomed and over the knee. He heard her moving around his house, wondered what she could be doing, and found some comfort in knowing he could trust her in his home.

Just as his arms began to tense from their upward positioning, she called his name, and he turned, lowering his hands at her nod. Her shoes were back on and she held her coat over one arm. He took a few tentative steps in her direction and she met him halfway, reaching a hand up to brush his cheek and making pointed eye contact, making sure that he was okay, that they were okay. She took his arm and half turned him so she could admire her handwork, pressing her palm to his hot skin, assessing the damage and finding herself pleased. She pulled his boxers up, then tapped his shin to make him step out of his pants.

He watched as she folded them and placed them on the table with the paddles and a note she must have written while he waited in time-out. “This is my hotel address and the number there. I’m here for a week,” she said, tapping the paper with a fingernail. “You’ll call tomorrow and we’ll go eat somewhere. We’ll talk.” Her eyes had taken on a bit of a twinkle and he thought she might be working hard to conceal a grin at the absurdity of their first meeting, at her boldness, at his continued blush. “Right now, you will go to bed, and I will meet the taxi that has been here for a good ten minutes. Okay?”

He nodded, and suddenly she was in front of him, hugging him fiercely. She looked up at him and smiled brightly. “It’s so good to meet you. And you behaved very well for your very first spanking.” He hugged her back, feeling a smile on his own face. She turned then, stopping as she twisted the door handle, looking back to say only “bed, Andrew,” and then she was gone. He shook his head, trying to sort his thoughts, then went about his nighttime routine, turning off the computer, locking the door, brushing his teeth. He winced as he climbed into bed, rolling quickly over to lay on his stomach, reaching a tentative hand back to feel his tender skin.

He fell asleep with dreams about tomorrow, and all the tomorrows, and quite sure that this first spanking wouldn’t be his last.