Sixteen of the Best

by Sarah Veitch

  'So what's the problem anyway?' she asked him insolently. 'Everybody knows I'm just playing. There's no law against it for heaven's sake.'

  'There is if I decide there is,' said Stan.

  'Oh yes,' said Suzee looking straight into his eyes, 'I bet you just want to get me into that jail of yours and put the handcuffs on me.'

  'No,' said Stan. 'The punishment for breaking this law is a full spanking.'

  Suzee laughed out loud, hoping he wouldn't be aware of her wildly beating heart as she struggled to sound amused and unbelieving. 'I haven't been spanked since I was a child. Now that I'm a full grown woman I don't think it would be very appropriate, do you?' and Suzee told herself it was pure thoughtlessness that made her add, 'Besides, I hardly think you're man enough...'

  Any hesitation or doubt was crushed as soon as Suzee uttered those fatal words. Whatever she tried to tell herself, Suzee and Stan knew that the gauntlet had been thrown down and the die cast. They both knew that despite any protests Suzee had sealed her own fate.

  'Yes, I think it would be very appropriate,' said Stan, catching her wrist again as she made to stand up.

  'This is quite ridiculous,' she started to say, but Stan was having none of it and quickly had her over his knee with her arm held behind her back.

  'Give me some music I can beat time to,' he said to George, who obliged with The Band Played On as Stan began to slap her ample backside in waltz time. People on tables nearby started to laugh and a couple of the girls drifted over.

  Despite her fantasies and thoughts of the deputy, who she had been imagining since the first rumours she'd heard, Suzee did not enjoy the laughter. In her imagination such an event would be strictly private, not witnessed by the pig-ignorant staff and patrons of Hicksville. She was a contrary woman, and although she knew she'd given the deputy no choice (and of course she knew he was dying to spank her!) she felt humiliated and couldn't help her struggling and avoidance. At some unacknowledged level Suzee also felt disappointed that her first spanking was making so little impression... Of course she didn't want to be in pain... did she?

  'She's never going to feel much under that skirt,' Kitty said. 'Let me lift it up so you can really get through to her.'

  As more laughter started and a few more gathered round, Kitty said, 'I know what you girls are like in this hot weather. I just hope you remembered to put your drawers on today, Suzee.' Despite Suzee's howls of protest and though she struggled furiously, Stan held her firm while Kitty raised her skirts. Suzee was genuinely horrified at the thought of her exposure, but she couldn't help herself thinking about the desire her exposed boots, stockings and drawers would arouse in the men and especially in the deputy...

  Some of the men were disappointed to find that she had remembered after all but Stan was secretly thrilled to see the thin white cotton stretched over her plump cheeks. He had already decided that the pleasure of removal of those drawers was a joy to come. The only question would be who would take them down, her or him... He began to slap each cheek hard, over and over, until her squealing turned to yelling and she called him a whole bunch of names she surely couldn't have learned in Kansas City. And though she kicked her legs and wriggled like crazy, he kept up an insistent rhythm that he knew must be reddening her entire bottom.

  When he paused for a moment with Suzee still squirming and complaining on his lap, Kitty said, 'I don't think she is learning her lesson. I think we'll have those drawers undone. See how she likes it on the bare.'

  There were whoops from the men and Suzee gave a scream trying even harder to wriggle away, but just as Kitty was reaching for the bow at the waistband, Stan stopped her and said, 'Just hang on there a minute, Miss Kitty.'

  He whispered something into Suzee's ear and after a second or two he smiled as she nodded her head and stopped struggling.

  'I'm sorry folks,' he said, helping her to stand and then standing himself. 'Some things are better done in private.'

  There were some murmurs of disapproval but not too many and not too loud. Miss Kitty though looked particularly put out.

  'Well you make sure she learns her lesson,' she said crossly.

  Stan looked at her. 'Surely you haven't forgotten how thorough my lessons can be?'

  'No, Deputy, I haven't,' she said, suddenly averting her eyes. She rubbed her bottom at the memory of the sting of Stan's hands on her tender skin.

  'Well then...'

  Suzee, who had read between the lines, did not miss the look or its meaning.

  'Take her up to room six. It will be free all night.'

  'Thanks,' said Stan as he took Suzee by the hand and led her upstairs. The piano was rolling again and the noise level in the room had returned to raucous.

  Suzee's head was reeling as the deputy politely but firmly marched her up the stairs and into the room. She knew that with Kitty baying for her blood and her gentlemen 'admirers' aroused, a trip back downstairs would end in total humiliation. True, she'd often wondered about having her drawers taken down for a public spanking, but reality, she was discovering, was a little different. Her bottom was really stinging. Suzee knew she had an agreement with the lawman, but she couldn't help trying to talk herself out of it. She found herself rather drawn to speculation about the ominous bulge in the deputy's jeans and told herself she must be feeling sexy because of the flirting. There was no way Suzee was ready to admit, even to herself, how sexy her first trip over a man's knee had been.

  Suzee tried to hide the tremble she felt in her voice, thighs and breasts. She drew herself up on her slender heeled boots, tossed her hair and did her best to meet his quizzical stare. He surely wasn't amused by her?

  'You don't really want to spank me any more, do you?' said Suzee very quietly and seductively. Stan locked the door behind them and hung his gun belt on the hook. He turned to admire her for a moment but much as he would like to lose himself in the fullness of her curves, he forced himself to wait.

  'Surely you can think of something you'd rather do?' she said in a low, sexy drawl.

  'Maybe later,' said Stan, forcing himself to be brusque. 'First of all let's have those skirts and petticoats off.'

  Suzee could not believe her ears. Perhaps the oaf hadn't realised what she was offering him.

  'I'm a grown woman, alone in a bedroom with you. You've been rather... rude, but I'm willing to overlook it if you apologise nicely...' She forced herself to smile at him. 'Now what can I do for you, Deputy?' she drawled.

  Stan grinned at her.

  'Sweetheart, the only decision will be whether I have you on your knees or bent over that bed when I fuck you. There's nothing like the sight of a well-striped bottom to spur a man on...'

  He was laughing at her, the bastard. Suzee knew there was no escape from that room but she hadn't given up.

  She did as she was told but Stan could see that she was still hoping to entice him as she slowly stripped down to her bodice, drawers and boots. Who'd have thought that fancy frock would have so many buttons, hooks and ribbons, he wondered. He was used to feminine paraphernalia, but never had a woman taken so long to step out of her dress for the deputy. Much as he enjoyed the show, he knew Suzee was earning herself a little extra in both the spanking and fucking department. She was a vision. Despite his eagerness for the back view, her restricted but displayed breasts rising out of her tight white bodice caused a twitch in Stan's denims. Her knee-length, thin white drawers hinted at further delights, above her little boots and dark stockings.

  'Now take hold of the edge of the bed.'

  'What? Like this?' She stood near the edge of the brass bed and wiggled her backside.

  'Take a step or two back, but don't let go.'

  Suzee did as he asked and then gave another little wriggle.

  Yup! The back view was worth waiting for! He could make out the tops of her stockings and garters under the now tightened white drawers, as well as detect the pinkness of her bottom under the thin stretched material. Gorgeous as she looked, there
was no way the minx was going to keep her drawers up. Stan was torn. Did he want Suzee's first bare-bottomed spanking to be with those drawers rudely parted so they framed her naughty soon-to-be-striped bum, or should he lower them to her thighs? On the other hand, he reasoned, if he removed them entirely he'd get to see her thighs and reddening behind nicely contrasted with those dark stockings and frilly garters...

  Stan made up his mind and stepped forward. 'And we'll just untie these,' he said, reaching for the bow and then releasing her pink cheeks from their confines under the cotton. He'd decided to part her drawers so that her bottom was rudely displayed, but surrounded by the snowy white of her drawers. He noted the slight pink of his earlier ministrations with some satisfaction.

  Suzee couldn't believe the brute was really going to spank her! Her instincts had told her he would and part of her admired his determination, but now she was really worried. Never had anyone dared to treat Suzee like this and now she was bent over with her bared backside displayed for his attentions. She knew that the privacy of the room was a consideration for which she should be grateful, but Suzee was feeling anything but grateful as she felt her drawers expertly parted.

  He could not resist stroking and squeezing her delicious bottom before catching himself in time and giving her a series of hard slaps. Once Suzee knew there was no way out she concentrated on trying not to cry out but it was hard. He was pleased when he started to get through to her and she began to give little cries and sucked in the air between her teeth.

  Not until he was satisfied that her bum was blazing did he stop for a moment.

  Suzee let out a long breath and relaxed. 'I think I've learned my lesson,' she said, beginning to stand up only to have Stan place her firmly back in position.

  'Your lesson is by no means over.'

  'But I'm really burning. I won't be able to take much more.'

  When he started to unbuckle his belt she turned at the sound of it. 'What...?'

  'This belt was given to me by an Apache chief. He used one just like it to keep his wives in order.'

  'I'm not having some savage's belt across my backside like this.'

  'True,' said Stan, pulling her drawers down to her ankles. 'You are taking it like this.'

  'I won't, I don't think... Aaaiiieee!'

  Stan had landed a good stroke right across the centre of her hot cheeks. Suzee jumped up clutching herself. 'No, I can't take that. Don't ask me to.'

  'You can have it downstairs in the bar if you'd prefer.'

  'No, no,' said Suzee quickly, bending over and clutching the bedpost for dear life. 'How many must I have?'

  'I'm not sure yet. See how we go. But one thing I am sure of: if you leap up like that we start over.'

  He let her wait and sway and tremble for a moment before landing a full swing that sounded like a gunshot.

  Suzee screamed and jumped up again. 'It's no good; I can't take that.'

  'It's either this here. Or bare over the piano stool.'

  'Not downstairs, no. But I can't stay down for it. I know I've got to take my spanking but you'll have to help me.' Suzee, bum blazing, was no longer playing with the deputy. With tears in her eyes, she accepted his authority as she desperately rubbed her throbbing cheeks. Stan's heart softened and his straining cock stiffened, but Suzee had a lesson to learn and Stan had every intention of taking his pleasure fully. He also knew that if Suzee wasn't thoroughly spanked, both of them would regret it, no matter how much she pleaded.

  Stan reached for his gun belt at the door. Right behind the holster were the silver-plated handcuffs he always carried. He heard Suzee's sharp intake of breath and unconscious little moan. He hadn't forgotten it was Suzee who'd first mentioned handcuffs. And he knew that this inexperienced woman was having genuine difficulty in staying in position for the belt she had reluctantly agreed to take. Quickly, he put her wrists through the bars of the bedstead and handcuffed them in place.

  Suzee hung her head and waited. He could see her knees trembling and watched with fascination as her whole bottom seemed to clench and then quiver as she waiting for the strokes to fall. This time he did not swing with full force but rather directed stinging swipes to each burning cheek in turn. Suzee hopped and swayed but there was no escape and Stan did not stop again until he had striped her poor bum twice. Finally, he reverted to full force and laid four dreadful stripes across both cheeks at once.

  As the echo of the last swipe died in the room, Stan released the sobbing woman from the handcuffs and held her while she recovered. After a while she said, 'I have learned my lesson now.'

  Stan wiped her tearstained face with a gentle finger.

  'I'm sure you have. Do you want time to dress?'

  Suzee shook her head. Instead of pulling up her drawers, she stepped out of them.

  Stan drew her to him. They kissed. It was the first of many...

  A New Understanding

  Pearl Jones

  'I'D like to ask you something.' His breath was hot and moist against my breast, his frame lying stickily on mine as we panted in the wake of pleasure. I wasn't ready for words but made some sort of sound, enough to encourage him to continue.

  He did, but not with speech. His hand pressed between us and he shifted to the side, winding his fingers into my pubic hair. Gripping tight, he pulled and my body followed, pelvis arching upward. I gasped, my heart raced.

  He'd done this before, a time or two, and I'd been amazed at the sensation: pain, but not pain. A heightened sense of pleasure. It had shocked me that first time, and I'd tried hard not to think about it after, determined just to be grateful that he knew so well how to please me. The time he'd used his mouth and that grip, I'd had the only screaming orgasm of my life, and though we'd just parted, I was suddenly eager for him again.

  'Tell me,' he breathed, and licked my nipple. Words? I couldn't think to speak! I moaned; he laughed and sucked my flesh into his mouth. Arched to meet his attentions, I quivered and pled. I don't know what I managed to stammer, but something sufficed. He freed his mouth, making me groan in dismay. 'I think it's time you did me a favor. What do you say?' And all the time his fingers tugged and pushed.

  'Anything,' I panted, as one finger crept low, finding my clitoris easily. He brushed his nail very gently over the hood, which made me writhe. A more serious caress followed, and I think I briefly lost my mind, too desperate to come to consider, to care, to breathe. He obliged my need, slicking fingers on either side of my clit, pinching and twisting and stroking, his other hand thrusting inward and up, hard, until I came.

  Until the world ceased in its turning. Oh, I hate words. I can never manage to make them mean the right things. Look, usually when I come it's like my clit exploded. All the writhing and stroking freezes for a second, and then I shatter into bits. There's this great feeling of being thrown away from my body, and then my muscles all release and I come to rest. Sometimes I see lights behind my eyes, I've even lost my hearing. Like dying, only joy instead of pain. This time, it wasn't like that at all.

  The focus was different. It came from deep inside me and washed out like waves, as if I were an ocean. There was no freezing feeling, no shattering; I felt suspended in mid-air. Not like I'd escaped my body, but more like my body had stopped existing in time. Nothing moved around me that I could feel, or hear, or sense. I was the only being anywhere. It was incredible. Unlike anything I'd felt before.

  A single eternal instant. And then it faded away, and I lay half beneath my lover, wreathed in smiles. He curled himself around me, preparing for sleep; I murmured something affectionate and leaned into his arms.

  'Do you remember what you said?' His voice was a whisper, but even so, I could hear the satisfied purr.

  I remembered, but couldn't be bothered to worry. 'Anything,' I sighed, and fell asleep.

  Ooh, what Sarah would say about this! I'm a high school teacher, mathematics and physics. Sarah is my best friend; she teaches English. And she would have dragged out the red pencil long ag
o, telling me I should begin at the beginning. And give you my name. 'Call me Ishmael' really isn't my style, but I'm Sherry, and my boyfriend's name is Mark. He's a teacher, too, Phys Ed by choice, though he does Sociology when the district needs the help. Mark and I have been together for three years now; have been talking lately about something permanent.

  So, Sarah's imaginary pencil having been dealt with, on with the tale. Mark invited me to Montreal. We had both decided to take the summer off, him because he wanted to relax, me trying to write a textbook. I'm sure you can imagine how much progress I had made - the words kept getting in the way of what I wanted to say. So when he suggested some time in what he called 'real summer', we fled Oklahoma for Canada without a qualm.

  He woke me one morning with a suggestion. 'What do you say we get out of the city for a while?' He ran his fingers down my arm as he spoke, and my breath hitched in my chest. Mark has an athlete's hands, blunt-tipped and certain, beautiful to me. 'We could go somewhere we wouldn't need to be quiet.' He quirked an eyebrow, and I couldn't help but grin. On my agreement, he clapped his hands, delighted, and danced around the room like Snoopy to make me laugh.

  He asked me if I'd do some shopping for him. I love to shop, for anything, maybe the only person on this earth excited by groceries, so I took his lists and his money and bounced out the door, returning in the early evening, triumphant and giddy, waking him from his nap.

  'You got everything, nothing missing, no problems at the stores?' Unlike me, Mark wakes quickly and all at one time, mind and body and voice all coordinated. If I didn't love him, I might almost hate him for that. His buzzcut means he doesn't get bed-head, either. But he sleeps nude, and for that sight, I'll forgive anything. I've often thought it a shame our culture prohibits nudity. He's better built than that statue David, and proportional even when he isn't aroused. I was too distracted by his body to answer his question, but he knows me. Rolling his eyes, he dragged the top sheet off the bed. Temptation briefly veiled, he repeated his question. I answered, and he rewarded me by dropping the sheet again.