Sixteen of the Best

by Sarah Veitch

  The world as she knew it was also about to end. Darren smiled as he sat down next to her. 'Suzie, as you doubtless know, there are millions of households which say they've gone green when they've only made token changes to their lifestyle.'

  'I've noticed that, too, Darren,' Suzie murmured, shaking her pretty blonde bob. 'But tokenism isn't good enough. We have to cut consumption and go organic on a large scale if our planet is to survive.'

  'Which is why,' Darren said, 'we've decided to go behind the scenes here in your lovely home so we can show viewers the endless ways you're saving the environment.'

  He smiled inwardly as he heard Suzie's alarmed gasp. For the first time he'd deviated from the script, rendering her speechless. 'Let's check out more than these lettuce leaves,' he said, taking a firm hold of her arm and marching her back to the kitchen, the wheeled camera in hot pursuit.

  He opened the fridge and brought out four apples on a pre-packaged tray.

  'Where did these come from?'

  'Tesco,' Suzie said lamely.

  'South Africa,' Darren amended, checking the label. 'We're at the height of the English apple season yet you're blatantly squandering carbon miles on foreign fruit.' He took out a carton of eggs. 'These aren't free-range - in other words, you've let birds be debeaked and caged for life so that you can save a few pence.'

  'I... can we please stop filming?' Suzie asked, looking pleadingly at the camera man.

  Darren nodded with pretend regret. 'We might as well - after all, we want a genuine environmentalist. You told us at the audition that you lived a green life.'

  'I do,' Suzie said, her blue eyes wide. 'It's just that I've had such a busy schedule.'

  Darren shook his head. 'You've no schedule, haven't worked since I'm A Nonentity, Get Me Out Of Here.'

  'I... took a career break but now my agent's sifting through offers for me,' Suzie stammered.

  'Then you'd best take one of them. You're all wrong for us.'

  'Isn't there any way...?'

  He almost yelped as Suzie stepped closer and slid her hand over his crotch. Taking a deep breath, he composed himself. 'I suppose you could wipe the slate clean by taking a damn good spanking.'

  To his amazement, she said, 'Done.' He'd forgotten, just for a nano-second, how desperate most failing celebs were - they'd starve, lie, snort and fuck to retain a vestige of their former fame.

  He turned to the camera man. 'Brian, set up the camera in Suzie's bedroom then bugger off down the pub. I'll phone you on your mobile when we're ready to resume.'

  'You're filming me being spanked?' Suzie asked, blushing hotly.

  'Just for my own delectation.'

  'And afterwards I get to make the pilot?'

  Darren flexed his palm. 'It's guaranteed.'

  To his amazement, she took his hand in her own damp palm and led him to her bedroom where Brian was already training the camera on her King Size divan.

  'Bye,' Darren said gruffly.

  'You lucky bastard,' Brian said.

  He left. Darren sat down on the edge of the bed and patted his lap. 'Come here.'

  His groin pulsed as Suzie hastened to obey him. She was surprisingly light - he calculated less than eight stone - as she settled her weight across his thighs.

  For a few moments, Darren contented himself with stroking her small, oval buttocks through her jeans, enjoying her mortification.

  'What a bad girl you've been,' he murmured, 'so very wilful. Did you know that not one of the cleaning products in your kitchen is toxin-free?'

  'But ethical products cost more and now that the work's dried up...' Suzie gasped.

  'Old fashioned elbow grease doesn't.'

  'I have to keep my hands soft in case I find work.'

  'In other words, the planet dies so you can look pretty,' Darren said, raising his right hand and bringing it down hard on her bouncing little backside. To his delight, she squealed and squirmed across his erection. He kept his hand busy with a regular tattoo throughout the warm up session, preparing her for the much harder spanking, and caning, she'd have to endure.

  'It's time these came down,' he said at last, reaching under her and locating the metal button and zip. To his surprise, she raised up to help him. Could she actually enjoy being spanked, he wondered. He wanted to punish her for her many sins, not give her an erotic experience!

  'No one's ever done this before,' she muttered as he edged the black denim over her arse.

  'You surprise me.' Three years before, at the height of her fame, she'd slapped one of the paparazzi, insulted a rival daytime presenter and - the worst sin of all - gained half a stone whilst filming Starr Suppers. The industry had begun to avoid her, though she'd gotten some mileage out of making Slim Down With Suzie after losing ten pounds. But she was twenty-six now, a dinosaur in celebrity terms, and they were chasing the latest teenage temptress instead.

  He stripped her of her designer blouse, fretwork bra and jeans, but to his disappointment she wasn't wearing any panties. Whenever he'd fantasised about spanking her, she'd always worn lots of layers which could be humiliatingly raised or pulled slowly down. Sometimes he'd edge down her shorts and discipline her bare bottom with his hand then redress her in his imagination so he could lift her skirt and underskirt and give her a follow-up thrashing - with a paddle - that she'd never forget.

  'No panties?' he murmured now.

  'I didn't want to risk Visible Panty Line,' Suzie explained, wriggling.

  'Of course you didn't.' He turned his attention to her radiant rear, enjoying its pinkness and the heat that communicated itself to his caressing palm. 'It's going to hurt a lot more now that I've taken your jeans off,' he added conversationally.

  He heard her sharp intake of breath, saw her hide her face in her arms. Hoisting her more firmly across his lap, he began to lash her naked contours. He slapped for all the times she'd taken part in some stupid show with an alliterative title. He slapped to punish her for contributing to dumbed-down TV. He watched dispassionately as she jerked and kicked and implored him, as she desperately tried to rise up and push his fingers away.

  She weighed less than eight stone, he weighed thirteen. There was no contest. She'd doubtless had a yolk-free omelette for breakfast whereas he'd enjoyed the full monty and coffee with cream. He slapped strongly at her reddening flesh, enjoying her entreaties and half-yelps. Though his hard palm was smarting, her soft flesh was stinging much, much more.

  'Please stop,' she gasped out, 'I can't take it.'

  'You mean you don't want to make the pilot?' he asked sadly. He stayed his spanking hand then tossed her down on the bed.

  'No, I do!' Holding her flaming buttocks, she rolled onto her side and stared up at him beseechingly.

  'Well, the pact was that I punish you for your numerous environmental indiscretions. I've hardly started and you're welshing on the deal.'

  'I know, but... I'd no idea it would hurt this much.'

  'You're destroying the planet and expect to get off with a couple of taps?'

  'I guess not.'

  'Ask me nicely to continue spanking you,' Darren said. He stared as she swallowed hard, still protectively cupping her scarlet bottom.

  'A sound thrashing or TV oblivion - it's your choice,' he explained.

  'You'd better be on the level,' Suzie muttered. She inhaled visibly then wriggled her way back onto his lap.

  This time she cried out from the very first spank and tried desperately to protect her punished foundation. Stopping briefly, Darren took off his tie and bound her hands in front of her, ignoring her suggestion that she could please him with her hand. Now that her protective palms were out of the way, he had an uninterrupted view of a finger-marked canvas, a canvas where he would make his mark again and again.

  At last his hand tired and he rolled her fully onto the mattress. 'Let's take a closer look around your apartment, check out any other indiscretions, Miss Starr.'

  'My hands...' She held out her captive wrists to him in a su
pplicating gesture.

  'Oh, we'd better leave them tied,' Darren said lightly, 'I haven't finished today's lesson yet.'

  He watched her swallow hard. 'You haven't?'

  With mock regret, he shook his head. 'I reckon I'm about halfway through teaching you the error of your ways.'

  'If you untie me, I promise not to protect myself,' Suzie said, looking up at him hopefully.

  'You would,' Darren assured her, remembering all of the wanabees he'd caned earlier in the year whilst casting for Go Organic. No matter how fervently a girl proffered her naked buttocks, her hands always flew to them when the cane lashed down. 'Let's check out the bathroom,' he added, knowing that most women kept numerous toxic products there. As he'd suspected, she was no exception. 'Oh dear - your skincare is full of SLS parabens and you're...' he shuddered for effect, 'using an aerosol deodorant rather than a deo-crystal for your underarms.'

  'Tell me what to use and I'll use it,' Suzie whispered, her breasts heaving as she breathed hard and fast. Her face was hectic.

  'It's my duty to thrash the message into you with my cane,' Darren replied, reading label after label in her cluttered bathroom and sadly shaking his head.

  'Your cane? You only mentioned a spanking.'

  'Spanking with a hand then with a cane. It's the only way to drive the message home,' he said casually.

  He watched as the presenter gulped several times and looked wildly around the bathroom. 'But I'm already so tender.'

  'The pain of the spanking will have faded by tomorrow whereas a good thrashing with a cane reminds a naughty girl of her errors for many days.' He examined her feminine care products. 'Oh Suzie, these are chlorine-bleached.'

  'I'm going to do so much better,' the naked blonde said, her scarlet bottom twitching nervously.

  'To the kitchen next, I think,' Darren said, making her walk before him down the stairs. Her backside was so taut that it hardly jiggled. To his pretend-consternation he found that she wasn't recycling this week's copies of Closer, Heat, OK or Hello, and had also binned two wine bottles and ten fruit-cocktail cans, despite having a council salvage bin in her utility room.

  'Could do better,' Suzie mumbled, her arse puckering strongly.

  'Should taste the cane and completely reform,' Darren replied.

  'Can't I at least put my jeans back on?' Suzie pleaded.

  'No, I like to mark a completely bare bottom, admire my handiwork,' Darren said. Taking her elbow, he steered her into the lounge and positioned her at the end of the couch then bent her gently over until her buttocks were raised high in the air. 'Stretch your tied hands far out in front of you,' he said. 'Further... That's it.' The arrangement helped to elevate her arse to its fullest whilst making it hard for her to rise up or shield herself in anyway.

  'Let's get the rod nicely lined up.' He took his time, bouncing it ever so lightly against her firmament, watching her quake.

  'What if I can't take it?' Suzie whispered.

  He indicated his briefcase, tucked discreetly in the alcove. 'Then we could try you with a nice hard wooden paddle or swishy riding crop instead.'

  But the cane was his own personal favourite so he stood back and flicked it with moderate force into her rump and she cried out and raised up slightly, using her bound arms as awkward leverage. But he was ready for her and helped her back into place.

  'Just take deep breaths, think of the upside - the fee, the acclaim, all these newspaper interviews. Chances are you'll make the cover of the environmental magazines.'

  He watched as she underwent an inner battle, her arse begging for release, her brain demanding that she take her punishment. Eventually her brain won and she settled herself more heavily on the couch and uttered a tremulous, 'Please get it over with.'

  'Oh a caning can't be rushed,' Darren explained, gently stroking the glowing mark already left by his swishy rod. 'The backside in question has to reflect on its mistakes, has to fear the next stripe of retribution.'

  'I fear it,' the blonde said with feeling, and he could see that she was finding it hard to keep her feverish little bottom in place.

  'You're right to fear it - the first cut is only the deepest in sentimental songs.' He raised the rattan and applied it to the flesh immediately below the existing tramline. Suzie howled.

  'Third time lucky?' the producer asked with satisfaction when she at last stopped jerking around.

  'What do you mean?' Suzie whispered.

  'Well, if you're lucky I'll miss the tendermost area where arse meets thigh.' He lined the punisher up with that particular area then applied it smartly. 'Oops.'

  'No more!' Suzie said, jumping to her feet, tugging wildly at her hands and stamping her feet on the spot as she tried to wiggle the pain away.

  It was time for another heart to heart - well, palm to bottom. Taking a seat on the couch, he hauled her over his knee and began to caress her heated flesh.

  'You're halfway there. You don't want to blow it now.'

  'I could blow you instead,' Suzie murmured.

  He thought about it for a second. 'No, I'd rather finish re-educating your bare backside.'

  'But it hurts so much,' she wailed with what sounded like a genuine cry in her voice.

  'What about the pain that you've caused to factory-farmed chickens? The dolphins which died in nets because you didn't insist on ethical tuna fishing? The rabbits blinded by your beauty products and shampoos?'

  She twisted her head back to look piteously at him. 'I'm so sorry about all of that. You know I'll change!'

  'You'll definitely change after six of the best,' Darren said. He helped her to her feet. 'And, because I'm a kind man, I'm going to administer the last three strokes in the garden where the breeze will cool your naughty buttocks down.'

  Somewhat to his surprise, she didn't voice any complaint as he marched her out to the back lawn which was surrounded by a six foot high brick wall on all sides. In his fantasies - and in reality whenever he could get away with it - he did some of his most erotic punishing outside.

  He looked thoughtfully around the large, square space. One corner contained a water butt which, upon closer inspection, had never been used.

  'A water butt to hoist a bad butt - how appropriate,' he murmured, turning the container on its side and bending her over it, her bound palms and bare soles of feet scraping the concrete path.

  'If my gardener appears I'll die of embarrassment,' Suzie mumbled.

  'If your gardener appears I'll get him to hold you in place,' Darren said.

  He lined up the rod then applied it to the upper part of her arse, taking care to concentrate on the fleshy areas. Taken by surprise, she almost rolled over the butt.

  'Silly girl, keep that bad bottom in place for me.' He took his time positioning her, palming her flaming buttocks, enjoying her frenzied wriggling. These last strokes were for all the times she'd lied to the cameras, pretending that her good looks were effortless or that she was naturally thin. Half of the image-obsessed and anorexic teenagers in Britain had probably been influenced by the likes of Suzie Starr.

  With relish he laid the fifth stroke in place, though she jerked at the last minute and the rattan landed diagonally rather than straight across. 'If you keep wriggling I'm going to get angry,' he warned. 'And you really don't want that.'

  Belatedly he remembered that he'd left the camera in the bedroom, told her that he was going to fetch it.

  'These pictures better not end up on the internet,' she said in a muffled voice.

  'Trust me, they'll only end up on my bedroom computer.' He had two dozen such disks, of everything from wanabee rock chicks to fading daytime presenters, all being caned and shamed before offering him sexual satisfaction. They'd do almost anything to gain the Mercedes, the penthouse, the admiring fans - and they'd do even more to avoid losing it.

  The adrenaline flowing through his veins, he hurried into the house then saw her digital camera lying beside her PC. That would do for a final memento. Walking smartly back,
he focused on her dependent backside.

  It was a beautiful sight, and one he relished, her arse an all-over red from the earlier spanking. This glowing canvas was overwritten by the deeper, darker tramlines caused by the cane. He could see all five of his splendid efforts, and felt a momentary regret that he'd have to stop at six.

  'Say cheese,' he joked, though her face was turned away from him. She muttered something which sounded like 'fuck you' and he gave an admonishing slap to her bare backside. She howled and squirmed about on the green plastic barrel, her bottom looking like it wanted to launch itself into space. 'Only one to go,' he said with mock reassurance. 'Now where should I put it? Here, or here, or here?' As he spoke, he bounced the rattan thoughtfully against her crimson contours until she begged him to put her out of her misery.

  'I think we'll aim for the halfway mark,' he said at last, then stopped and put down the cane. 'But first I must take a photo of your face. Such a pretty picture.' Walking around to the front, he knelt down and snapped her flushed cheeks and tear-filled eyes. He'd make her a printout of this snap so that she could look at it whenever she was tempted to be hypocritical, to lead impressionable youth astray.

  'And we'll make the pilot after this?' Suzie asked, wincing as she rolled more fully forward and her naked nipples rubbed against the ground.

  'Uh-huh. I doubt if you'll want to sit down for the rest of the day, so I'll come back tomorrow. You can do all your environmental shopping tonight.'

  'And you'll give me a list of what to buy?' Suzie added tremulously. 'I so want to get this right.'

  'Oh you will - your sore arse will remind you to read all the books, to examine every label. And every time you're tempted to take shortcuts, you'll remember the feel of my cane lashing down.' He picked up the rattan and returned to her rear view. 'Talking of which...'

  By now she was clearly in an agony of anticipation, desperate to accept the last searing stroke yet dreading its arrival. As such, she jerked about like the proverbial cat on a hot tin roof. And it was hot out here, Darren thought, the cooling breeze he'd offered having failed to materialise. Instead, the August sun beat down on her bare buttocks, adding to their heat.