Spanking Samantha, Chapter 13 (F/F, M/F)
Previously on “Spanking Samantha”:
Kim is taken aback by Heather’s diagnosis of the incident at Ellie’s. Dr. Heather prescribes repeated application of a tortoise-shell hairbrush.
Meanwhile, Molly’s first date with Josh is lots of laughs – until her ceaseless curiosity about an old girlfriend earns her a late-night dessert. Josh gets ready to warm up a hand-made cherry-red turnover.
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Recidivist or mischievous readers having extensive experience with the business end of a hairbrush may scoff, but ten sturdy bare-flesh pops of a Depression-era Bakelite stinger to the upturned rear of a novice can be a real revelation.
Those who have learned to maintain a measure of decorum until the final stages of forceful redirection are urged to sweep away the cobwebs. Remember your first encounter with a rigid personal grooming device?
By comparison, the corrective effect of a vigorous hand spanking is gradual. Although pain accumulates rapidly enough, the bared offender is afforded some opportunity for regret and dread before being overtaken by the irresistible physical distress of a disciplinary spanking.
A resolute hairbrushing inverts the process. Like a car door slammed on your finger, it hurts now! Yeow, mama!
Kim yelped at Heather’s first smack.
As the second swat flattened Kim’s left cheek (“Ow!”), the shock wave from the first rippled through the right. (“Oh God, two.”)
The third attack produced momentary levitation and aphasia. Even when Kim remembered that she was to count the blows (“How many is that? Count along.”), she couldn’t – couldn’t – couldn’t.
“Three,” she finally squeaked. WHAP!
The bucking and thrashing was epileptic.
Heather imposed a time limit for responding to each stroke. “Understand? Five seconds, or we do it again.”
“F-f-four. Oh Oh Oh…” CRACK!
Poor Kim convulsed again. Heather trapped the arm waving back for protection, bent it at the elbow, pinned it at mid-spine.
“Kim? I don’t like waiting…”
“Fuh … Fuh … F-five.”
“That’s right. Halfway done.” SMACK!
“A-A-A-A-A-a-a-ah!”
And onward to blubbery “Ten! T-ten!”.
“When I tell you to get your bottom across my lap, I mean NOW! Is that clear?”
The nearly inaudible “Yes” was the feeble mew of an orphaned kitten.
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“Pipe down, Molly! Come on! You’ll wake up the neighbors.”
“So? They’ve never heard fucking before?”
“Molly, shush! I mean it.”
“Okay, Josh,” Molly whispered. “Sorry.”
A shiver ran through her as she got back to riding his erection. The rosy circles covering her bottom were ample reminder that Josh would expect warnings to be heeded promptly.
He’d made that pretty clear.
“Was there … some … part … of ‘Are you … looking … for … a spanking’ … that you … didn’t … under … stand?”
“No … Aah! … Josh! … I … Ow! … I …”
“Thought I was kidding?”
“No, I … Ow! ..”
Molly, of course, had expected a few playful swats from the sweaty gardener, or perhaps a stiff warning smack from the perturbed aerobics instructor.
She’d pout, “Josh! That hurt!”, and rub the seat of her skirt.
He’d wave a scolding finger in her face and call her “young lady”.
“You watch yourself, young lady, or you won’t be sitting down for a week”.
“Don’t try my patience, young lady, if you know what’s good for you.”
“You wouldn’t be the first sorry young lady to leave here with a sore bottom.”
And she’d say, “Oh, really?”
“Oh, really? Are you gonna teach me a lesson?”
And he’d say, “You think you’re too old to be taken across my knee?”
There would be a brief struggle. She would squeal as he pinned her wrists, protest as he yanked off her skirt, threaten as he forced her over his lap.
“Don’t you dare!”
He would spank her pantyhose six times.
“Let me go!”
Overwhelmed by curiosity, he would pull back the waistband.
“No! I mean it, Josh!”
He would admire the new blush from his overlapping hand prints.
“See what happens to naughty girls?”
He would slide three fingers down the crease of her sweet cream puffs and discover the dew below.
He would explore. She would melt. “Oh… Oh…”
Two hours later, he would stroke her inner thighs in contented gentle afterglow. “Next time, you know, you won’t get off so easily…”
“I know, baby. I know.”
She would fondle him absentmindedly, hoping for more.
So much for romance.
SMACK! SMACK! “You thought … ‘I’m warning you’ … meant … something … else?”
“No! … Aaah! … Josh … Please …”
“You thought…”
(“God! I’m getting a real spanking! He’s not stopping! It hurts! I can’t get away! My legs won’t stop! I’m being punished! Ow! Like a little girl! He’s really spanking me!”)
“… Is that what you thought? … Well, is it?”
The water blurring Molly’s eyes spilled over.
(O-w-w-w-w! “Sammie got a lecture and Sammie got a spankin’.” Wasn’t that Ginger’s big boast back in the bar that night? We all laughed! “Sammie got a spankin’.” It’s not so funny now.)
“Well, Molly? Is that … what … you … thought?”
“Aaah! No-o-o-o-o.”
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Heather gave Kim two full minutes to recover from her first encounter with a hairbrush.
Two minutes for the burn to sink deep into the muscle tissue.
Two minutes to consider what was yet to come. To realize that this was just the appetizer. To let the first hiccuping sobs build to unrestrained shaking.
Two light taps of the hairbrush against a pulsing spank spot brought a terrified gasp.
“I’d like to have a little chat with you now, Kim. Can you speak?”
“I’ll try.”
“Do you need a little time?”
“Uh huh … A minute … Could I …”
“All right. One minute.”
“Thank you.”
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“Up you go.”
Kim was relieved to be invited off Heather’s lap.
“Now come here. That’s right.”
They stood together, swaying slightly as Heather held a teary face to her shoulder.
“Do you want to look?”
“No.”
“It’s going to hurt for a while.”
“I know.”
“Do you remember what Ginger told you about getting spanked?”
“Mm-hm.”
“What?”
“About the big hurt.”
“That’s right. What’s your big hurt?”
“I clobbered Ellie.”
“And broke her nose?”
“Mm-hm.”
“And what else?”
Kim began to sob quietly into Heather’s blouse.
“What else, Kim?”
“I’m so awful. How can I have so much anger?”
“What did you do?”
“I pissed on her. All over her! And I left her there, bleeding. I just left her there and went home!”
“That’s right.”
“I asked God to forgive me, but I still … He … I know He hasn’t.”
“And why should God forgive you?”
“I … I …”
“Did you hurt God?”
“It was a sin. Letting Ellie undress me that way …”
“Did that hurt God? Or Marcus?”
“Huh?”
“How would you feel if Ellie had spanked Marcus that way? Fed him wine and lowered his pants and…”
“Oh.”
“Hmm?”
After a while, Heather wiped off Kim’s face and fetched a glass of lemonade.
“You’re going to sp
ank me again, aren’t you?”
“For not playing safe, yes.”
“Can I have a safeword?”
Yes, but you won’t need it, will you?”
“No.”
“And after we’re done?”
“I’m going to tell Marcus what happened with Ellie. And tell him how sorry I am.”
“That’s a good girl. And I’ll call Ellie and tell her you want to apologize for what you did to her, too.”
“Mm-hm. Can we wait a little?”
“How about next w
eekend some time?”
“Will you come with me?”
“Sure, sure. Feeling better?”
“Yeah.”
“Then let’s go finish up. You’ll be more comfortable in the bedroom, don’t you think?”
“Okay. Do you want the hairbrush?”
“I think so.”
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In the morning, Josh made coffee for his snoozing princess.
“You okay, Molly?”
“Mmmm – uh HUH. Thank you.”
“Cream?”
“Yes, let’s.”
“Shhh.”
“Old man.”
“Give me a break. It’s sore.”
“What about me, you meanie?”
“Let’s have a look.”
“Ow.”
“Sorry. Nice and red, just the way it should be.”
“Stop. Fuck me again.”
“Tell me who won the bet.”
“Hmm?”
“The poker game.”
“So you can pretend you’re with Becca again?”
“Becca lost?”
“Pretend it’s Becca when you’re inside me?”
“Or maybe pretend it’s Becca’s bare bottom when I take you over my knee again?”
“Stop.”
“Becca lost, didn’t she?”
“She was so pissed! He took three cards and drew a straight flush. Even Martha – the one I spanked? – even Martha was going ‘Fair’s fair, Becca. No getting out of it.’ Stop smiling, Josh!”
“So?”
“I mean it. I’m Molly, remember? So Becca crawls onto Steve’s lap to take her punishment, and Steve sort of swings his legs around so everyone can get a good look, and he goes ‘Ladies! In case you’ve forgotten, this is what a white bottom looks like. But not for long!’ And she’s like ‘Steve!’, and then everyone counted along while he started swinging away”.
“Ooh – she must have hated that”.
“Especially when she started squirming and kicking. That really embarrassed her. I mean, he wasn’t spanking REALLY hard, but it wasn’t love pats either. ‘I hate you. I mean it. OW! I hate you.’ And after a while, she really tried getting away, but that just made Steve start spanking harder, and … Josh! What is that? How DARE you get a hard on when you’re ‘too worn out’ to make love with me?”
“How many?”
“A hundred and twenty.”
“Ouch.”
“You put that cock away if it’s not for me. What? What are you smiling about?”
“I’m deciding whether to tease her about it”.
“What do you mean?”
“Molly, don’t be pissed. We’re not seeing each other, but after we broke up…”
“What? Am I gonna like this?”
“We broke up in the middle of law school. I was a year ahead of her, and when I passed the bar, I took a job here, with my firm. And a year later, when she was studying for her exams, she asked me for a reference, and…”
“And what?”
“And I work with her.”
“Oh FUCK, Josh!”
“No no. We’re completely done. She’s married. Rebecca Bailey Quarters, Attorney-at-Law”.
“Quarters?”
“Yeah, like two dimes and a nickel”.
“Oh, shit”.
“What?”
“Rebecca Quarters?”
“That’s Becca Bailey”.
“My friend Ginger?”
“The one who didn’t spank her sister?”
“Right. Samantha is Samantha Parker”.
“Oh, shit”.
“Rebecca Quarters is her husband’s bitch lawyer. They’re getting divorced”.
“Oh, shit. I didn’t realize… Molly, I’m sorry. You have to shower and get dressed.”
“What?”
“It’s probably okay, but we shouldn’t see each other while that’s going on. You’re friends with Mrs. Parker; Becca’s my partner…”
“I thought it was Rebecca.”
“Ms. Quarters is my partner… It’s just asking for trouble. Please don’t say anything to your friends about … about their attorney, okay?”
“About the spankings.”
“Yeah. Please. Shit. I’m sorry, Molly. After the divorce, or after they settle if they do, then we can see each other again”.
“You want to?”
“Yes. Of course.”
“Me too”.
“Good.”
“And don’t tell ‘Ms. Quarters’ about us”.
“Right. Of course, Molly”.
“Shit”.
“Yeah”.
“Come here”.
“What?”
“Kiss it”.
“What?”
“You spanked it hello. The least you can do is kiss it goodbye”.
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Heather went off to the drugstore to buy a pregnancy tester.
“If last night didn’t do it… Shit. That’s twice I’ve spanked the daylights out of one of my so-called girlfriends, and twice I’ve gone home and balled my husband for six hours”.
Kim spent the morning airing out her tender backside, elbows in the mattress, forehead on fists, eyes closed in prayer. She sought strength.
She called Marcus.
Samantha introduced Ginger to her supporters at the Women’s Job Fair.
“And this is my sister, Ginger. Thank you. You all know how important family is. Family keeps you centered, keeps you honest. Gives you a good you-know-what in the rear when you need it. Well, Ginger’s doing that to me”.
A few people snickered and eyed their neighbors.
“For me! I’m sorry. FOR me, of course.”
Ginger flashed the small throng an “Aw shucks!” grin and leaned into the microphone.
“Why, Samantha! You’re all red!”
She looked back, gave Samantha’s ass an exaggerated stare, and made a big Thumbs Up sign.
Samantha feigned embarrassment, and the gathering of mostly 20- to 40-year-old women roared.
Except for the red-haired woman at the back of the crowd. The one in the tailored suit who had been taking notes. The one who held up a camera phone and sent a fifteen-second movie clip back to her office.
The one who knew a thing or two about having a well-spanked bottom. The one who had immediately recognized that “I got a spanking” walk.
Rebecca Bailey Quarters representing the plaintiff, Your Honor.
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Next on “Spanking Samantha”:
“You march yourself up to your room this instant. Now!”
“Trouble?”
“I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“That’s okay. She’s at that awkward stage”.
“She’s my goddamn elected representative”.
“She’s living in your house. You have to be consistent”.