Spanking Samantha (Chapter 12, F/F, M/F – finally)

Previously on “Spanking Samantha”:

Ginger employs the Socratic method while disciplining her careless sister. It must work, because Samantha passes her written and oral exams. Did you know that naughty girls go straight to bed after a spanking?

Molly gets dressed for her first date with Josh.

And Kim wants Heather’s advice.

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“I’ve got half a mind to spank you myself”.

That caught Kim up short. She’d asked Heather out for a drink because she wanted advice. She certainly hadn’t expected a threat.

“What do you mean?”

“You live by conservative values. Right, Kim?”

“I guess.”

“You’re faithful to Marcus, you’re in church every Sunday, you don’t like swearing or dirty jokes.”

“Right.”

“And sex is between a man and a woman.”

“Well, I don’t think gays should go to hell, but … yeah.”

“And drinking in moderation – no more?”

“Sure.”

“And you disapprove of violence.”

“Heather, where is this going?”

“And you think people should take personal responsibility for their own actions? Like not blaming other people when something goes wrong?”

Kim was quiet.

“And yet you blame Ellie for what happened.”

“Okay. I get it.”

“You drank too much. Because you drank too much, you let Ellie seduce you. It wasn’t traditional sex, but it sure was erotic – wasn’t it? You got yourself sweet-talked out of your skirt.”

“I get it.”

“Did you resist being pulled over her lap?”

“No.”

“Did you let her lower your panties?”

“Yes, but I thought it was just…”

“So, even if she did spank you harder than you expected…”

“Okay, it’s my fault, too. But…”

“And you didn’t use a safeword. That’s like unprotected sex. You’re lucky she didn’t take your skin off with a switch.”

“But Ellie said…”

“Don’t blame her. She may have taken some advantage, but don’t blame her.”

“I want another drink. Just one.”

“You’re a kid who played with matches. Don’t tell me you’re Little Miss Innocent. You’re not having another drink. Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“You drove, so your place. You’re getting a spanking. The more I think about it, the more you deserve it. Come on.”

Heather threw some cash on the table and pulled Kim off her barstool.

“Wait. What about Ellie? She had a part in this.”

“Ellie has a broken nose, thanks to you. I suspect she got the message about her own responsibilities…”

The lecture continued out to the parking lot.

“…And what about forgiving others? Huh? Don’t you hear that every Sunday? You little hypocrite! You wanted my advice; you got it. And you’re getting a spanking.”

Heather still hadn’t cooled off much as they neared Kim’s apartment. “No, it won’t be like Ellie spanked you. But I’m tired of your Little Miss Perfect routine. I’m so innocent. I’m so righteous…”

“I never said I’m perfect.”

“You’re ducking responsibility. You screwed up. You’re getting a spanking.”

Except to point out her apartment from the parking lot (“Over there. Fourth floor.”), Kim remained silent until she had turned on the lights and latched her front door.

“Well, here it is!”

While Heather made a quick pit stop down the hall, Kim rummaged around for the “guest bowls”.

“I got some nibbles. Pretzels and mixed nuts. You want something to drink?”

Heather took Kim’s wrist as she was setting the snacks on the wooden chest that served as a coffee table.

“Thank you, but this isn’t a social visit.”

Heather led Kim quickly down the hall to the spare room, pausing only to grab the oval tortoise-shell hairbrush she had spotted near a pump bottle of gel.

“Heather! Wait!”

“Look what I found! A little stinger!”

“No, please…”

“I want to see your bottom by the time I count to five.”

“No, I mean that’s from my grandmother. It’s an heirloom. I don’t want it to get cracked.”

“The only thing getting cracked here is your backside. Get undressed.”

Kim took a deep breath and began unbuttoning her blouse.

“Leave that on. What are you doing?”

“I don’t want my clothes to get all wrinkled again.”

“Oh, Jesus, Kim. Hurry up.”

“I’m hurrying. Please don’t swear.”

Heather pulled the Windsor chair away from the computer desk and set it between Kim and the door. Kim fumbled with her belt buckle.

“Move, Kim! If I don’t see a bared bottom across my lap by ‘five’, you are going to be an especially sorry young woman. One! … Two! …”

At “Five!”, Kim was still hopping about on her right foot, frantically peeling panty hose down her left leg.

“That’s six … seven … eight … nine …”

Kim put her palms on Heather’s far thigh and lifted herself into a forward spanking position.

“… Ten. That’s ten extra whacks for fooling around…”

“No. Please! I tried…” Kim waved her legs about.

Heather pulled Kim’s waist tight to stop the flailing.

“I don’t want another spanking, Heather. P-p-please?”

CRACK!

“Ow!”

“One. Count along with me, Kim. This is what you get for making me wait.”

The sting from the hairbrush spread through Kim’s right cheek. “O-one.”

CRACK!

“That’s two, Kim.”

“Yow! Ouch! Oh God, two.”

CRACK!

Kim bounced an inch off Heather’s lap. “A-a-ah!”

“How many is that? Count along.”

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Molly thought Josh was wonderful – everything he had seemed in their frequent e-mail exchanges and recent phone conversations. Not stuffy at all for a lawyer, but he did family law, so maybe that was different. She didn’t know; she didn’t care. They were awkward for all of thirty seconds. He was interesting, he listened actively to her stories and opinions, and he seemed not to notice that other women stole admiring glances at him.

They ordered fresh raspberries with Grand Marnier for dessert – the first for a little energy after the meal, the second to keep the buzz going without being, like, totally obvious.

Molly leaned across the table with a conspiratorial look. “So, how often do you troll the Progressive for spanking partners?”

“Oh, I don’t. Just that once, plus the week before. And you?”

“I guess I just got lucky.” She offered a quick first kiss. “First time.”

“You’re kidding!”

“Oh, I got some jerky guys, too, but I liked that first message you left – so I never called them back.”

She told him the general outline of the Spanking Samantha story Ginger had told a while back, how it had earned Ginger a welted red bottom for lying, and how it had kind of gotten her worked up thinking about it. And so she placed the ad, and here we are! Well, no, not a lot. I mean, I got spanked a few times as a kid, nothing too bad. Oh, I guess I was about … oh, maybe fourteen when I got the last one. YES, it hurt. I don’t remember. Wait, yes I do. I got caught smoking, and I lied about it, but the whole room reeked of it even with the windows open, and … YES, tobacco. I didn’t try grass ’til college. Oh, it’s been years; I don’t know. YOU have some? You’re a lawyer! You can’t… Well, I know no one’s supposed to… Well, okay. Maybe a little later. Could be fun.

She offered to follow him back to his place, partly to see how he lived, partly to check for signs of a girlfriend, and just a little … a teeny tiny bit … to see if she’d really like to fuck him if they got a lit
tle high. Even though it was only their first date.

His condo was fine. More than fine; he had pretty good taste. Neat and clean. (Yeah, right, he has a maid on Fridays just in case he gets lucky.) No mascara in the medicine cabinet; nothing obvious. Um – red, I guess. Thank you. What is this? The Modern Jazz Quartet? No, I don’t know much about jazz, but i
t’s nice.

“So Molly, anyone ever spank you since you … grew up?”

So over a few tokes and – yes, a little more wine, thank you, can I see the label? – Molly and Josh laughed about the game of Spank Poker she’d played with her friends when she was a junior at Michigan State. Oh, you’re kidding! You went to Michigan? That’s it; we can’t see each other. Anyway, it was really late, and it was me and Becca and Becca’s boyfriend Steve and – no, we knew him, it was okay – and Chaz and Martha and Lindsay and her boyfriend. I forget his name. Oh – David; that’s it. Oh, and Hil; what a head case, but she was my best friend. And it was like strip poker, only when you lost your last hand and you had to take off your panties or your boxers or whatever, you had to go over the lap of whoever won the hand and take a dozen swats. And then you had to sit around naked while the others played, ’cause the last one left got to spank everyone.

“Sounds like you like to play games.”

“Oh, it was fun, but that’s the only time I got spanked since I was back home. Anyway, I had to spank Martha, which was weird. She was kind of conservative and quiet, and when she started to bend over for her little butt-warming she, like, didn’t want to play along. And her thighs were kind of – I don’t know – they were kind of like you see on an 8th-grader walking home from school, sort of straight and wholesome-looking? Oh, god, I know we just ate, and you’re gonna think I’m a pig, but do you have any cookies or something?”

“I’ll see. So what happened?”

“Well, she was the third one out, so she’d already seen that it wasn’t too bad to get twelve spanks, especially when we were all laughing and it wasn’t like really getting punished, so I told her it was only fair, and we’d all agreed, and if she didn’t hurry up and take what was coming, we’d have to double her penalty for cheating…”

“Here you go. Double-Stuff Oreos.”

“Oh, god, do you have milk? I mean Oreos are perfect when you pull them apart and dunk them in … Josh! Are you getting a hard on?”

“Hmm, I guess so! Finish your story.”

“So anyway, everyone’s laughing and egging us both on, and finally Steve says I’m right and we should all count to three…”

“And did she?”

“What, make it in time? No. She’s so busy going ‘Oh, come on, guys!’ and deciding whether it’s more important to cover up her boobs or her pubies that she’s still standing there when we all yell ‘Three!’ So Steve and Becca get up and he’s pulling her arm and she’s guiding Martha’s hips toward me, and they’re both saying ‘Fair’s fair, Martha.’ And then she just lost her balance and tumbled right into position. And she was so embarrassed, and not just that everyone could see her, but because she’d been such a big baby about it.”

“Here’s your milk.”

“Thanks. So I gave her the twelve swats, and I tried to make them about the same as the swats the others got, y’know? I mean, I’d never smacked anyone’s ass before.”

“Did you like it?”

“It was weird, but then someone said the next twelve should be harder, like real punishment for trying to weasel out of it, and Martha looked over and said ‘No!’, but Lindsay said that was fair, and we had to set an example or everyone would think they could go back on the bargain when it was their turn. And everyone agreed – except poor scared Martha, who started waving her legs around – and they started chanting ‘Spank her! Spank her! Spank her!’ So I figured okay, and I got a good tight hold on her waist, and…”

“…you let her have it?”

“Yeah! I said, ‘Okay, everyone. This is what happens to anyone who thinks they don’t have to play by the rules!’ And I made that rolling-up-your-sleeve motion, and everyone clapped, and then Whap! Whap! Back and forth, six really hard ones on each cheek.”

“How did Martha take it?”

“Like you’d expect, I guess, when a college girl gets a spanking in front of her friends. She’s rubbing her pink butt and the others are all clapping and hooting and laughing. I felt kinda bad for her, but fair’s fair, right?”

“If that’s what you decided.”

“I guess. So we made her stand in the corner for two more hands, and no peeking at the next two spankings, which was good, ’cause I was one of them. At least I got it from one of the guys. I think he eased up a little ’cause it didn’t hurt much at all. And then we kept on going for another hour or so, and it’s down to Steve and Becca. The happy couple, playing seven-card, red Jacks wild, and they’re both really into it.”

“Wait. What about betting? Was there any reason to fold a hand?”

“Oh. Yeah, I forgot. You could fold three times without having to take anything off, but after that folding was just the same as losing, except everyone who called the bet and lost got an extra swat for every chip they lost.”

“Sound complicated.”

“Well, that got to be part of the fun: arguing about who bet what, and of course we couldn’t keep track after a while, so we just started dividing all the chips in the pot by how many people were getting spanked.”

“Oh, so if three people lost a hand, they all took something off, and if two people got naked at the same time, the winner whacked both of them?”

“Right, but that only happened twice, I think. But anyway, it’s the last hand, and Becca and Steve both want to get the other one, and they’re both out of ‘free’ folds, and they know that if they keep betting crazy and they lose, it’s gonna be really bad, and they figure since they’re a couple, it might not just be medium swats.”

“Cool!”

“So they’re both into it, and neither one will give, and they keep betting and betting, and they’re each trying to psyche the other one out. She’s like ‘I only took one card, Steve. Didn’t you take three?’ And he’s all confident, and he goes ‘You’re going to have a very sore bottom, Miss Bailey. Think you can take it?’ And…”

“Wait. Becca Bailey?”

“Yeah. Is that funny?”

“Kinda tall, straight reddish hair? From over by Lake Michigan? St. Joe’s, I think?”

“Yeah. You knew her?”

“I dated her for a year.”

“Oh, God, Josh! When?”

“After college. We both went to law school at Ann Arbor.”

“Shit! You spanked her, too?”

“All the time!”

“Joshua Chandler! Shame on you!”

“What do you mean? What’s the last couple of weeks all about?”

“I mean TELLING me!”

“You asked.”

“I mean I don’t want to hear about your old girlfriends. Not yet, anyway. And if – and I mean IF I let you spank me, who are you gonna tell about me some day?”

“Moll, it just came up; that’s all. You asked!”

“Well, it’s rude. Thanks for the cookies. Where do you want the glass?”

“Don’t get up. I’ll take it.”

“So?”

“What?”

“Did you spank her hard? Or just love swats?”

“Oh, now YOU’RE being rude.”

“Well… Now I want to know.”

“It’s none of your business!”

“Oh, come on! Tell me!”

“Molly!”

“Please? Please please please? I want to know.”

“Pipe down.”

“Tell me.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Tell me, Josh. Did you spank her hard? Was she a naughty girl?”

“Stop it!”

“Did you take down her jeans and then pull her across your knee for a nice long you-deserve-a-good-hard-spanking?”

“Molly, stop!”

“Huh? Come on, Josh. Becca Bailey!”

“Molly, that’s enough. I mean it.”

“Did you make her cry and promise to be good? Did you punish her?”

“Are you looking for a spanking yourself, Miss Roth?”

“You DID spank her for real!”

“I’m warning you… Drop it. Finish the story.”

“What was it like? Did she get all squirmy?”

“Molly! Enough!”

“Let go of me.”

“I know how to do this. Last chance.”

“Put me down!”

“Well?”

“Put me down, Josh. Tell me about Becca.”

“You’re as big a brat as she was.”

“Stop.”

“You want to know what happened to Becca when she acted like this? You’re about to find out.”
“No. Stop it, Josh. Ow! Wait. Stop! Ow! I’ll drop it. Leave my skirt alone. Ouch! I’m sorry. Don’t spank me. Hey! Quit it. Oh, please, Josh. Careful! You’ll rip them. Ow! Ow! I’m sorry, Josh. Really. Oh, please. Not on my bare bottom. Joshua! ….”

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Next on “Spanking Samantha”:

Three spankings. Three sore backsides. Three different results.

Samantha? Kim? Molly? How you doin’?

At least tell us who won the poker game!