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Alex_b
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Username: Alex_b

Post Number: 14
Registered: 04-2005
Posted on Sunday, June 05, 2005 - 06:36 pm:   Edit Post

THE MYSTERY OF THE BATON ROUGE
by Alex B.

The name’s Jack Wayne. I’m a private detective.
It all began on a sweltering Friday in June.
I was sitting behind my desk thumbing through a
paperback of "9 & 1/2 Weeks" and sipping a
glass of bourbon when my secretary stuck her
head into the office.

“Hey, Jack.” she said in an annoying tone.
“Jack, put the book down for a minute!”

“What is it with you?” I growled. “You always
butt in when I’m getting to the best page,
Betty!”

“Excuse me for interrupting your reading hour!”
she replied, tossing a handful of her jet black
hair over her shoulder. “But I thought you’d
like to know that there’s a lady out here
to see you.”

I sat up and quickly tossed back the whiskey.

“Send her in.” I said, shoving the glass,
the bottle and the book into the desk drawer.
A moment later an elegantly-dressed woman
walked in. Her light brown hair, which was
pulled back into a bun, was highlighted by a
few streaks of silver. This wasn’t the kind of
clientele I was used to. She was classy, like a
linen napkin or a glass of single-malt scotch.
She was smooth and relaxed as she introduced
herself.

“Olivia T. Kendrich.” she said, offering me a
gloved hand. I didn’t know whether to shake
her hand or kiss it. I reached out and gave it
a polite squeeze. She smiled and squeezed back.
“You come highly recommended, Mr. Wayne.
An acquaintance of mine, Miss Stephanie O’Hara,
said that you were quite effective. Do you
remember her by any chance?”

Stephanie O’Hara was a cute little red-haired
debutante from the right side of the tracks
who'd hired me to tail her fiancee’ who she
suspected of two-timing her. I shadowed the
guy for a month and it was clear he wasn’t up
to any hanky-panky. When I went to her father’s
house to tell her so, she accused me of
covering for him and demanded her retainer
fee back. When I told her no dice, she started
getting physical. She kicked my shin a real
good one, then started slapping my face.
I tried to stay cool, but she’d smacked me
until I didn’t have a cheek left to turn.
So I grabbed her by the arm, threw my foot onto
the nearest chair and tossed her over my leg.
She twisted like a demon. Apparently, she’d
figured out what was coming next. It was all I
could do just to hold her in place. Then I
started slapping her fanny like it was going
out of style. She had a thick wool skirt on,
but I didn’t let that stop me. I just laid it
on all the harder. The way she kicked and
screamed, you’d of thought I was killing her.
It’s too bad her rich daddy never gave her that
kind of attention, but I figured it’s never too
late to learn. When I was done spanking the
little brat, I pushed her onto the floor and
walked out. I remember looking back as I was
heading out the door. She was lying there,
in tears, rubbing her ass and demanding at the
top of her lungs that I come back, but I just
kept moving.

“She mentioned what a worthy adversary were.”

Ms. Kendrich continued.

“Oh, is that what she said?”

“Yes, she did. I’m to understand that you two
had a little run in.”

“Well, there was a bit of a scuffle. Is she
still sore about that?”

“She was... for quite a while.”

“It wasn’t that big a deal. She ought to put
it behind her.”

“She hardly had a choice.” Olivia smirked.

“Yes.” I agreed. “But certainly you didn’t come
here to talk about Miss O’Hara.”

“No. What I want to talk to you about is this.”
She took a dark-pink envelope from her purse
and slid it across the desk. I picked it up
and opened it. Inside was a type-written note
which read:

“Go down a red road and find a three.
Then add a three. Now do it again. When you
hear the bell, turn to your left and you’ll
see me just above the earth. Take me in hand
and turn me over. You’ll know what to do next.”

“It came in the mail.” Olivia told me. “I have
no idea what it means.”

I examined the envelope carefully. There was no
return address and no postmark.

“This was delivered by hand.” I stated.

“Some of the best things are.” she replied.
I turned the note over in my hand and tried to
think of what the words could possibly mean.

“It’s a riddle all right.” I muttered.

Olivia took a checkbook and a pen from
her purse.

“How much is your retainer?”

She seemed ready to write down any number
I chose. I reached across the desk and put
my hand over hers, closing the checkbook.

“I couldn’t take a dime from you Ms. Kendrich,
not for something like this.” I said, softly.
I left my hand on top of hers as long as I
dared then slowly pulled away. “Like I said,
it’s some kind of riddle, so it’s got to be
some kind of joke- probably not worth looking
into.” She nodded in agreement, but I could
see a lot of disappointment in those lovely,
blue-green eyes. You could have written
Tootsie-pop right on my forehead- I was such
a sucker. “But I’ll tell you what- I’ll work
on this for a day or two and, if I come up
with anything, I’ll let you know.”

She smiled sweetly as she put her things back
in her purse and stood to leave.

“That sounds fine.” She handed me a card with
her phone number and address. “Come over for
dinner when you have it figured out. I want to
hear all about it. How does poached salmon,
steamed turnips and raspberry sorbet sound?”
Once again she offered her hand. This time I
leaned down and pressed my lips to the silk
knuckles of her glove.

“I can almost taste it.” I said.

She blushed warmly as she walked to the door.

“Good luck, Mr. Wayne. Remember, I’m expecting
a blow-by-blow account.”

With that, she was gone. I walked over to the
window and watched as she got into her white
Mercedes and drove away. Her perfume drifted
faintly in the air like a ghost. An old song
began to play in my head.

“What was that all about?!” Betty’s voice cut
through the music like a chain-saw. I slapped
my hands together and pointed at her.

“Go make me a big pot of coffee, honeybuns!
I’ve got a mystery to solve and it may take
all night.”

“Good!” she said, picking my paperback up off
the desk as though it were a soiled diaper.
“I guess that means I can throw this piece of
trash away?”

“When did you become a literary critic? Do you
even read books?”

“I’ll have you know I’m just starting a book!
It’s all about Sleeping Beauty and how she-”

“I don’t have time to hear about your fairytale
stories! I’ve got to get to the bottom of this
Kendrich case.”

“Yeah, I bet that’s not all you’re trying to
get to the bottom of.”

“One of these days, Betty!” I waved a
threatening hand at her.

“Promises, promises!” she pouted, tossing her
hair as she left the room.

I spent the rest of the night kicking that
riddle around my office. The road and the
numbers- those were the keys. Then, at about
midnight, it hit me. The red road was a street
and the numbers were an address! When I took a
three and added another and did it again, I
came up with 369. I checked a city street map
for something with red in it and found
Scarlet Lane. I dialed information and found
that 369 Scarlet Lane was the address of
Grayson’s Pawn Shop. I caught a little shut-eye
on my office couch and headed over there the
next morning.

Grayson’s was a run down little joint, but it
possessed a kind of dusty charm. As I’d
expected, a bell rang as I came through the
front door. I turned to my left. There were
several shelves of junk lining the walls, but
only one thing caught my eye- a huge globe
circa 1955 sitting right at eye level and above
that was a wooden paddle hanging by a strap.
It was about a foot and a half long and maybe
four inches wide. I heard a woman’s voice
behind me say:

“Checking out the old board of education, eh?”
she asked in a friendly manner. “Hi, my name’s
Lucy Grayson.”

She was a nice looking lady. I’d say medium in
most respects, average in height and weight.
Her auburn hair was shoulder length. Maybe she
was a bit plump and her voice was a little
rough, but she had a nice smile and that goes
a long way with me.

“Nice to meet you, Lucy. I’m Jack Wayne.”

“So, what’s your interest in the fanny-whacker?
Is the little woman getting out of line?”

We both laughed.

“It looks like a classic piece of workmanship.”

“Yeah, it’s a real tear jerker. I bet that one
kept a few ladies on their toes!” she replied
with a wink.

“Really? Do think that’s an adult toy?”

“Oh yeah!” Lucy said as she reached up and
brought the paddle down. “See these little
hearts carved into the corners? This was a
romantic gift between two grown-ups, not
something a school principal would use.
My folks had something like this. I found it
under their bed once when I was a kid.
You never know what people get up to behind
closed doors.”

It was heavier than I’d expected- smoother too.
I ran my hand along it’s flat surface and let
it fall into my palm a few times. I flipped
it over to find some writing etched into
the wood.

“It’s time to get personal with June.
Maybe some time in the corner is needed.
Want some candy? Just remember that the hand
moves faster than the eye. Now, get cracking!”

That afternoon found me back in my office,
mulling over those cryptic words. Was June a
woman’s name? What did time in the corner
refer to? The rest of it made even less sense.
Betty brought me some coffee and a couple
of doughnuts. She noticed the words from the
paddle which I had scrawled onto some paper
in front of me.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“Damned if I know!” I said and took a bite
from the old-fashioned with strawberry icing.

“Is this part of that Kendrich case?”

“Yeah, and I’ve got to admit, it’s beginning to
get the best of me!”

“Well, don’t get slap-happy over it, especially
if she’s not paying you!”

“Wait. How do you know I’m doing this for free?”

Betty started to get a little flustered.

“I- uh... Well, I mean-”

“Have you been listening at the door again?”
I said as I got up and walked toward her.
Betty was forever listening in on my private
conversations and I’d finally had enough of it.
She backed out of the room and tried to make
for the front door, but I cornered her.

“Now hold on, Jack. You’ve got it all wrong!”

I picked up a newspaper from her desk and
started to fold it lengthwise.

“Come here, Betty! Your bottom has a date with
the classified section!” Her hands covered her
backside as she attempted to out-maneuver me.
She faked towards the door and then made a
break for my office. I lunged forward and
grabbed hold of her wrist before she could
slam my own door on me. Then it was just a
matter of dragging her over to the couch and
pinning her over my lap. Betty made a lot
of noise, but didn’t put up much of a fight.
In fact, for a second there, I could swear
I caught her starting to giggle.

“She won’t be laughing long!” I thought as I
lifted the newspaper. And that’s when I saw it
out of the corner of my eye. It was right there
on the paper. Just below “Help Wanted” and
“For Sale” was the word, “Personals”.

“This is it! The personal ads!”

“The what?” Betty gasped.

“The clue on the paddle said to ‘get personal’.
That’s where I’ll find the answer.” I sat Betty
up and got off the couch. She tried to regain
her composure, not to mention her breath as I
grabbed my jacket and headed out the door.

“Where are you going?!” she said, almost
sounding disappointed.

“To a dirty book shop, sweetcheeks. I’ll just
have to toast your buns some other time.” I was
outside and getting into my car when Betty
stuck her head out the office window.

“You’re a real jerk?!” she shouted. Then she
started addressing her comments to the world.
Jack Wayne is a complete jerk and he doesn’t
know how to finish what he’s started!”

“Why are you mad at me?! I didn’t lay a hand
on you!” I shouted back. That just seemed to
tick her off even more.

“Oh! You make me furious!” she screamed and
slammed the window down.

“Women!” I thought to myself as I hopped into
the car. “Will I ever figure them out?”

Pinky’s Adult Books was a neon covered building
in the red-light district. They had every
girlie mag and erotic novelty item anyone could
ever want. Never mind how I knew about it.
I went to the spanking literature. And there
it was- the June issue of "Corner Time",
a publication dedicated to the fun side of
corporal punishment. I flipped through the
pages and stopped at the personal ads.
There were several of them, so I decided to
buy the issue and study it back at the office.
When I got there, Betty was gone. There was a
note on her desk. As I picked it up, I could
see that the ink had been smudged by her tears.

“Dear Jack, I thought we had something special,
but I stand corrected. You’ve always had the
upper hand in our relationship, why couldn’t
you take advantage of it? The bottom line is,
I’m leaving. It’s not like me to turn tail and
run away, but what else can I do? Good-bye.
Love, Betty Storm”

Strictly speaking, I don’t go in for office
romances, but I have to admit that Betty always
did have a special place in my heart. I stood
there for a while staring out the window with
her letter in my hand. I thought about calling
her home number, but I’d never thought to ask
for it. She was right, I was a jerk. But there
wasn’t much I could do about it, so I decided
to get back to the business at hand.

I scanned through Corner Time, checking ad
after ad as the night wore on. There must have
been a thousand naughty ladies looking for some
firm-handed guy to adjust their attitude, but
nothing caught my attention. It wasn’t until
I’d reached the next to the last page that I
finally struck pay-dirt. It was an ad next to
a picture of a gorgeous blonde which read:

“I’ve been a bad, bad girl and need some
serious behavior modification from a man who’s
hand moves faster than his eye. So get cracking
and call Candy Maxwell!”

At the bottom of the ad was a phone number
for an answering service. I called it and
left my office number. Five minutes later my
phone rang.

“Jack Wayne’s office.”

“Mr. Wayne?” a soft feminine voice asked.

“Yes it is.”

“Hi, I’m Candy. I’m so glad you called. I was
on the edge of my seat waiting!”

“Do we know each other, Ms. Maxwell?”

“No, but we have a mutual acquaintance.”

“And who would that be, Candy?”

“I’m not comfortable talking about it over
the phone. Why don’t you come over to my place
so we can meet in private?”

“Is this for real?”

“Why don’t you head on over here and find out
for yourself?"

Within a half-hour, I was pulling up to Candy
Maxwell’s house. It was a big Victorian place
with an iron gate up front. I walked up to it
and pushed the buzzer on the intercom.

“Hello?” Candy’s voice crooned through
the speaker.

“It’s me, Jack.”

“Great! Come around to the backside of the
house. I’m having a swim.” The gate slowly
swung open and I walked across the driveway
past a pink BMW with red leather interior.
It looked to be brand spanking new. As I came
around the side of the house, I noticed a
small wooden structure in the backyard.
It was an old woodshed from the days when
people needed such things to stay warm. I could
hear splashing as I rounded the corner and when
the pool came into view I was overcome by
a vision. There, swimming naked before me,
was the most beautiful woman I’ve ever almost
dropped dead from seeing. She stopped swimming
for a moment and waved to me.

“Care to cool off?” she asked.

Sliding naked down a glacier wouldn’t have
cooled me off right then.

“No thanks.” I said, trying to keep my eyes
in their sockets. She paddled around in the
water as though it was nothing to swim nude
in front of a stranger.

“I’ll be right out.” she said, heading for
the stairs at the shallow end. I needed a
distraction to keep from losing my cool.
I fumbled around in my pockets for some
cigarettes or a lighter before remembering
that I don’t smoke. Then, like Venus rising
from the sea, Candy stepped out of the pool
and stood before me shaking the water from her
long, golden hair.

I was harder than Chinese arithmetic.

“You’re quite striking.” I commented.

“I hear the same about you.” She walked over
and took me by the lapels. “Isn’t it a little
hot for this?” Our lips almost met as she slid
my jacket over my shoulders, down my arms and
casually tossed it onto a nearby deck chair.
She placed her hands on my chest and gave me a
little shove. I fell back onto a chaise lounge.
Just as I sat up, she climbed over my lap and
arched her bottom at an angle that would tempt
even the most amateur spanker. I couldn’t help
but notice how pink her cheeks were, the shade
of bubble gum.

“You have an incredible back porch.” I said.

“It could use a man’s touch, though. Care to
take a whack at it? Or maybe several?

“Looks like someone’s already done that today.”

“I got a little cheeky with a friend of mine,
so he bent me over and showed me the error of
my ways. But that was hours ago.”

“Does it still sting?” I asked, giving one of
her cheeks a squeeze.

“Marvelously!” she moaned. I let my hand roam
across her perfect pink ass. Candy rolled her
shoulders in anticipation. I lifted my hand and
was poised to give this minx a spanking she’d
never forget. Unfortunately, the moment was
shattered by the sound of an angry voice.

“What the hell’s going on out here?!” it said.

I turned to see a large powerful-looking man in
a business suit approaching us.

“Who are you?!” he demanded.

“Jack Wayne. I’m a private detective.” I stood,
pulling Candy to her feet as I did.

“Well, I’m Melvyn Maxwell and the woman you had
bent over your knee is my wife!”

“Melvyn, you’re making a scene!” Candy said.

“Me?! The guy had his hands all over your ass!”
The man grabbed Candy by the arm and took her
to his side. “Where are your clothes?”

I handed her my jacket which she quickly
wrapped around her shoulders.

“Thanks. I’m glad to see there are still some
gentlemen left in this town!” She sneered at
Melvyn who paid no attention to the dig.

“Get in the house and put something on!”

As Candy went off to the house in a huff, Mel
and I stood there for a few awkward moments.

“I suppose you answered one of those ads.”
he asked in a semi-polite manner.

“Yes, but it wasn’t as simple as that.
You see, I’m working on a case-”

“I see. So it’s part of your job to spank
beautiful naked women?”

“If only that were the deal!” I chuckled.

“Look, I don’t blame you for wanting to spank
my wife. I do it three times a day myself!
But her ass isn’t public property, okay?!”

Candy came back out of the house with my jacket
over one arm. She was wearing a white blouse,
a plaid skirt, ankle socks and black patent
leather shoes. The ensemble was fetching, but
it sort of looked like a school girl’s uniform.

“Here, Jack.” she said, handing me my jacket.
“I’m sorry things didn’t work out. Mel can be
a real wet blanket!”

“That’s enough, Missy!” Melvyn replied.
“Now, go march yourself into that woodshed
and wait for me!”

“But I don’t want another trip to the woodshed!
I want this guy to spank me!” she cried.

“I’m going to count to three!” That’s all he
had to say. Before he could even start
counting, the beautiful young woman walked away
with arms angrily folded and her lower lip
sticking out. “I’m sorry about all this,
Mr. Wayne. It looks like you’ve been set up.”

“Yeah.” I put my jacket back on and we both
walked toward the front of the house. I went
straight for the driveway, he veered off toward
the shed. “Don’t be too harsh with Candy.”
I said.

"Are you kidding?" Maxwell laughed. "She’s in
there eating this up with a big spoon! Let me
tell you, if I didn’t keep her fanny as hot as
a pepper at least eight hours a day, she’d drop
me like a bad habit! Good luck, Mr. Wayne."

"Thanks."

On the way out I could here the fireworks show
starting in that woodshed. Melvyn’s hand was
making solid contact and Candy was squealing
and begging for mercy. The smacking sounds
followed me all the way to the car.

By the time I was nearing my office, the sun
was touching the horizon and the distant hills
were bathed in a rosy glow. I reached for my
sunglasses but found something else in the
breast pocket of my jacket. It was a hotel room
key with the number 303 on it. Candy must have
slipped it in there when she was changing.
It wasn’t from some flea-bag inn, either.
This key was the property of the Baton Rouge-
the ritziest hotel in town. I drove to the
Baton Rouge’s parking lot and sat there in my
car for a while, wondering if I should go up
or not. The whole thing smacked of conspiracy.
Finally, I resolved to see this thing through
to the end. I took an elevator that was only
slightly smaller than my apartment to room 303.
I slid the key in and opened the door to find
four women on the other side: Olivia Kendrich,
Stephanie O’Hara, Lucy Grayson and
Candy Maxwell. They were all in silk nighties
in various shades of pink and all looked as if
they were expecting me. Olivia and Lucy were
playing cards at a glass-top table.
Stephanie and Candy were lounging on an
enormous red velvety couch. Candy was stroking
Stephanie’s strawberry locks with a large
wooden hairbrush.

“Nice of you to drop in, Mr. Wayne.”
Ms. Kendrich said, rising and pouring a glass
of pink champagne from a bottle that was
chilling nearby. Then she handed me the glass.
“I suppose you’re wondering why we lured you
here tonight.”

“Okay, I’ll bite. What’s this all about?”

“Remember that afternoon in my father’s study?”
Stephanie asked me. “I was being such a brat
that day! Do you remember how I yelled at you
and kicked you and all? A lot of guys would've
folded in a situation like that, but not you.
You put me in my place. And you did it
so swiftly, so...”

“Soundly?” I interrupted.

“Yes.” Stephanie agreed. She smiled and closed
her eyes for a moment as if she was remembering
her first taste of chocolate. “Well, ever since
that experience, I’ve been looking for some way
to relive the moment. But first, I had to find
somebody to confide in. I needed to share my
strange little story with someone.”

“Why didn’t you just give me a ring.” I asked.

“You don’t understand. As enthralled as I was
by the way you took me in hand, I was still
furious. I'm a proud woman, Mr. Wayne. Having a
man spank me like a child was very confusing.
It was frightening, embarrassing and yet it
awakened me in ways I’d never expected.”

“Yes.” Lucy joined in. “When a woman realizes
she likes being spanked, there are lots of
issues to deal with. She wants to be punished
and humiliated in her fantasy life without
losing anyone’s respect in the real world.
It’s hard for most people to get that.”

“Not to mention trying to explain that there’s
a big difference between a playful spanking and
hard-core S & M.” Candy added.

“I did try to contact you. I came to your
office two months ago." Stephanie continued.
I’d finally worked up the courage to tell you
about my feelings, but your secretary told me
you were on a case out of town and wouldn’t be
back for days. I sort of broke down there in
your waiting room. I couldn’t stop crying, but
your secretary, Betty, was so nice. She brought
me a box of tissues and listened to my story.
I told her everything.”

“What? Betty knows about all of this?” I gasped.

“Oh, yes! It seemed she was very familiar with
my situation. She got on the phone with Olivia
and started arranging this whole charade.”

“Betty and I have been plotting for months."
Olivia said. "You see, we’ve both been spanking
aficionados since we went to college together.
We were in a sorority that took paddling its
pledges very seriously.” Olivia’s hands went
to her ass cheeks as if she could still feel
the sting. “Many is the night we smeared cold
cream on each other’s sore little bottoms after
a brutal session with the paddle. We looked
around, but we never found a man that could
swing a paddle quite like our senior sorority
sister.”

My eyes went to Lucy, who’s smile seemed
quite conspicuous.

“And that sister would be you, Ms. Grayson?”

“Excellent! You see, you are a good detective.
Yes, I was Betty and Olivia’s senior sister and
I took every opportunity to lay wood on their
delicate young fannies. It seemed as though
Olivia here spent most of her freshman year
bent over in front of me, dancing to the crack
of my paddle. But it never gave me the
satisfaction I'd felt being on the other end
of it when I was a freshman. And it was nothing
compared to the rapture of being taken over a
man’s knee for a good spanking. After college,
the girls and I stayed in touch. We came to
realize that we didn’t have a passing fancy
for spanking, it was a life-long devotion.
So we formed a little club. We call ourselves,
‘The Sore Subjects’. Candy joined us about a
month ago.”

“I met Stephanie at a bookstore.” Candy
chimed in. “She saw me checking out 'The Art
of Discipline' and we struck up a conversation.
The next thing you know, I was in the club.
You can imagine what the initiation was like!
I couldn’t sit comfortably for days!”

The women all laughed.

I was still confused.

“So, you ladies meet here once a month and
spank each other?”

They all laughed again.

"Not exactly, Jack." Olivia explained.
"You see, we always get some authoritative
male to be our ‘master of ceremonies’.
Last month it was Melvyn.”

“Melvyn Maxwell? Your husband?” I asked Candy.

“He’s not really my husband. His real name is
Melvyn McLintock. He’s a friend of ours who
was helping us out.”

“It’s all part of our complicated little plot
to get you here.” Olivia added.

“I understand, but how did you come to
choose me?”

“Well, why don’t you ask the other member of
our little group?” Olivia walked to the bedroom
door and opened it. When I looked into the next
room my jaw fell down to the lobby. It was my
runaway secretary, Betty, sitting on the edge
of the bed in a French maid’s outfit.

“Hi, Jack.” she said, standing up. “I hope
you're not angry.”

“I’m just glad to see you.” I told her.
“I’ve been worried about you, honey. I didn’t
know what to do!”

Betty stared at the floor, biting her lower lip.

“I know, but it was the only way I could think
of to introduce you to our little group.
Still, it was thoughtless and mean of me to let
you worry like that! You know what I think?”
she said, looking right into my eyes. “I think
I need to be taught some manners.”

“And I think these two need some time alone.”
Olivia said with a knowing grin. “But don’t
wear yourself out.” she added as she left the
room with the others filing out behind her.
“Remember, you’ve got four naughty accomplices
in the next room waiting for their
just deserts.”

Stephanie, the last to exit, gave Betty and me
a wink as she closed the door.

“Alone at last.” Betty said, embracing me.

“What’s the deal with the little maid get-up?”

“It’s just one of my fantasy costumes.
You don’t like it?”

“No, I like it all right! I just think it would
look better draped over a chair.” I said,
kissing her neck.

“And how do you think I’d look draped over
a chair?” she whispered huskily into my ear.

“I feel like a dope.” I told her. “For years
I’ve been trying to figure out your mysterious
motives and all you wanted me to do was smack
that cute little backside of yours!
Some detective I am!”

“You’re a great detective. It's just, sometimes
you can’t see the forest for the trees.”

She put her hands on my face, kissing me.

I wrapped my arms around Betty's slim frame.

“You’re going over my knee, young lady!”

“It’s about time!” she said as I sat down on
the edge of the bed. A quick yank on her left
arm and she was over my lap. I lifted the back
of that little black skirt to reveal the
sweetest sight these eyes have ever seen.
It was no shock she wasn’t wearing panties,
but I wasn’t prepared for the absolute
perfection of Betty’s bottom. I’d seen it
swishing around the office a thousand times
under a cotton skirt or nicely packed into
a pair of slacks, but I never could have
imagined how lovely those two alabaster moons
really were. My hand shook as a ran it across
the smooth rounded surface of her ass. I lifted
my hand and brought it down hard across Betty’s
sweet white cheeks. She jumped and gasped.
The next few swats were much more powerful and
got an even better response. Betty ground
herself against my leg and then lifted her
bottom in anticipation of more. I started
swatting harder and faster until my hand was
a blur. I slapped those round little cheeks
until they turned carnation pink and when that
shade didn’t suit me, I smacked them until they
were rose red. She kicked and cried like a kid
who had lost her bike, but I just kept on
spanking her. Then, when Betty’s ass looked as
if it might glow in the dark, I stopped
swatting and just ran my hand across her hot,
crimson flesh. She arched her back and moaned
with pleasure as I massaged her swollen buns.

“Don’t ever leave me again, Betty.” I sighed.

“Or else, what?” she said, looking over her
shoulder with a big grin on her tear-stained
face.

Once again I lifted my hand into the air.
I knew I wouldn’t have to answer that
smart-ass question with words.


THE END
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Fanny
Spanko
Username: Fanny

Post Number: 465
Registered: 05-2005


Posted on Sunday, June 05, 2005 - 07:13 pm:   Edit Post

Wonderfully cunning, Alex. You held my attention through every word. Bravo!!
"Queen of Innocence""
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Bethie
Moderator/Spanking Aficionado
Username: Bethie

Post Number: 220
Registered: 04-2005


Posted on Sunday, June 05, 2005 - 08:22 pm:   Edit Post

Excellent! This was so much fun to read. You really have a way with words, Alex. Thank you for sharing!
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Smartnnaughty
Spanko
Username: Smartnnaughty

Post Number: 123
Registered: 05-2005


Posted on Sunday, June 05, 2005 - 08:53 pm:   Edit Post

A Spanking Club? Why didn't I think of that?

Another Great Read. Thanks, Alex!
Sassy Sassy Sassy
No one can be as Sassy as me!
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Pagan
New member
Username: Pagan

Post Number: 38
Registered: 05-2005
Posted on Sunday, June 05, 2005 - 09:47 pm:   Edit Post

This was great! I haven't read any of your other stories, but I'm definitely going to search now...
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Wolfie
Moderator/Spanking Aficionado
Username: Wolfie

Post Number: 195
Registered: 04-2005


Posted on Monday, June 06, 2005 - 04:43 pm:   Edit Post

Wonderful Alex, very clever and so much fun! Thanks for sharing this. :-)
wolfie loves Steve more than anything else in the whole world...even more than chocolate and lobster!
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Bobbi71
New member
Username: Bobbi71

Post Number: 10
Registered: 08-2005
Posted on Saturday, August 20, 2005 - 02:23 am:   Edit Post

Very good. What a twist. Very, very well written got my attention and I was hanging on to every word.

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