After Party

by Cyanne

  When her body had stopped convulsing, she was relaxed but oh so tired. She drifted off into a sexually induced sleep.

  She awoke suddenly, unsure of how long she had been sleeping. Glancing at her wrist – drat! She kept forgetting she’d taken her watch in for repair. Here in the clearing, because it was shaded from the sun, it was always darker, so she could only guess at the time; maybe about five in the afternoon, she thought.

  But what was it that had woken her? She listened, but there was nothing. I must have imagined it, she thought to herself.

  She started to feel randy again and her right hand moved down towards her already throbbing pussy. Vaguely she noticed that her knickers were not where they should have been, but in her excited state she didn’t follow the thought. Another magnificent orgasm left her feeling so exhausted that she fell asleep once more.

  Merrilee was awakened again, but this time she realised she was definitely not alone, somebody was turning her over onto her tummy.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she shouted. ‘How dare you?’ she started struggling, but he held her down easily. He didn’t answer her, just grunted.

  She felt him lift her dress up her back revealing her bare bottom. He gave a low whistle.

  ‘You have one lovely bottom,’ he told her, running his right hand over it.

  Then putting his left hand in the small of her back, he stopped stroking her bottom, and started spanking her instead, gently at first – first one cheek then the other, his spanks were gradually getting harder, until her bottom felt hot and tingly.

  She struggled to get up from the somewhat undignified position she found herself in. ‘Let me go, you pervert,’ she screamed.

  ‘You’re not so squeaky clean yourself,’ he answered. ‘Lying here, not caring who saw you playing with yourself.’

  He carried on spanking her, igniting a fire in her by now obscenely wriggling bottom. Much to her own surprise she was disappointed when he eventually stopped spanking her.

  Yet when he stood up she still grabbed the opportunity to try and get to her feet but he was too quick for her. Kneeling next to her again he pushed her back down – giving her already glowing bottom another half-dozen hard spanks.

  ‘You stay right there, young lady, I’ve not finished with you yet.’

  He stood up again. Merrilee twisted her neck around trying to see what he was doing.

  She saw him slowly removing his belt from its loops. Something in her tummy did a somersault. She watched in fascination.

  He wrapped the belt around his right hand – leaving about twelve inches of trailing leather.

  Again kneeling down next to her, he traced the free end of the belt gently across her quivering bottom cheeks.

  Oh dear, Merrilee, she chided herself. You’re letting this brute turn you on. Then he started swinging his right arm. Each time the belt made contact with her writhing bottom it became hotter and her clit began to throb.

  It was only when he had made every square inch of her bottom hot and stinging that he stopped spanking her and started caressing it instead. This caused havoc with her dignity as her legs parted of their own accord – oh how she wanted him to slip his finger into her steaming slit.

  But instead he stopped fondling her bottom and said, ‘Right, come on, kneel up.’

  She found herself obeying him. She was kneeling so that her arms were supporting her upper body – her hot bottom stuck up in the air.

  He carried on stroking her bottom – interspersing the stroking with the occasional spank.

  His stroking hands were teasing her – gently stroking the inside of her thighs, almost letting his finger stray into her pussy, but pulling away at the last moment.

  She hated him for that.

  After teasing her some more he did let his finger make contact with her swollen clit. She could feel herself on the verge of coming to a climax but he stopped and withdrew his sopping wet finger.

  She gasped in disappointment.

  ‘OK, now I’m going to take you from behind. Any objections?’

  ‘No, oh no,’ she heard herself say. ‘Please fuck me.’

  Putting his hands on her hips, he pushed his throbbing cock into her hot wet pussy; Merrilee found herself pushing back at his thrust, His already stiffened cock was swelling even more inside her. She gripped onto it, using her muscles – just like she did with Pete, knowing that it drove him wild.

  By now her assailant was groaning, digging his fingers into her hips.

  They were both panting and gasping. As she felt the waves of a climax causing her whole body to go into spasms of delight, she heard his grunts as he too climaxed.

  When she had squeezed every last drop of cum from him, they lay down on the soft ground side by side.

  Their reverie was broken by a man’s deep voice.

  ‘Wow! Greg, that was fantastic.’

  A man came out from behind a bush carrying a Camcorder. ‘I got it all on video. So what’s your name, sweetheart?’

  ‘I’m Merrilee.’ She struggled to her feet. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘Pleased to meet you, Merrilee, he said. ‘Oh! My name is Jed and this here gentleman is Greg.

  ‘Huh! He’s no gentleman,’ Merrilee said.

  ‘And you’re no lady,’ Greg retorted.

  Jed laughed ‘Greg and I own Sexy Spanking Videos. I’ve just videoed everything and we will be selling the video on our website. But if you have any objections to that, I’ll destroy it right here and now, Merrilee.’

  ‘Errr, no’, she assured him. ‘I really enjoyed it.’

  ‘That’s great,’ Jed said. ‘Would you do it again?’

  ‘Oh yes I would,’ she answered without hesitation.

  ‘Who is this Pete you were calling out to?’

  ‘My boyfriend.’

  ‘Has he ever spanked you?’

  ‘No! never. But he’d better from now on.’ She laughed.

  ‘Was that the first time you’ve ever been spanked, Merrilee?’ asked Jed.

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘And it turned you on, did it?’

  ‘God, yes,’

  ‘That’s great,’ said Jed. ‘I told you she was a Goer, didn’t I Greg?’

  ‘You sure did, mate.’

  Jed rummaged in his camera bag, bringing out a rather crumpled piece of paper. ‘But,’ he said, ‘just to make it really legit would you mind signing this consent form, Merrilee?’

  ‘What’s that for?’

  ‘It’s just to prove that you’re over 18,’ said Jed, ‘and you have given your consent. You are over 18, aren’t you?

  She nodded, ‘I’m 19, have you got a pen?’

  He handed her a pen. ‘Here sign it where I’ve put the cross.’

  Merrilee signed the piece of paper and handed it back to him.

  ‘Oh yes,’ said Jed, ‘come to think of it, we also need your postal address.’

  ‘Why do you want that?’ she asked.

  Well, we’ll need somewhere to send the cheques. You’re going to be a video star Merrilee. And we’ll have to send you a contract for signing.’

  She gasped in amazement. ‘Is this a joke?’

  ‘No, Merrilee, this is for real,’ he promised her. ‘Would you be willing to be in other movies?’

  She laughed. ‘You mean I’ll get paid for enjoying myself?’

  ‘That’s right,’ Greg butted in. ‘It may well be me again, but there are also other men who will be doing the spanking.’

  ‘Sounds like fun,’ she agreed.

  ‘Right, come on Greg, it’s time we were off.’

  ‘Okay, mate.’ He got to his feet. ‘Bye Merrilee, we’ll meet again soon.’

  ‘Bye,’ she echoed.

  She watched the two men as they left her alone in the clearing.

  Merrilee, you’ve had a busy day, she told herself. So feeling drowsy yet again, she lay down and was soon oblivious to the world.

  When she woke up – it was getting dark.

  Then
she remembered Jed and Greg. Had she dreamt what happened? But as she moved – she felt her bottom burning and stinging.

  She laughed out loud, running her fingers over her hot, sore bottom. Finding the feeling was a real turn-on, she would have continued with her exploration of her newly discovered seat of pleasure, but, noticing how dark it was getting, stopped herself. ‘Wow! That was some dream. Wonder if I will hear from them again?’

  Come on now; stop daydreaming, she told herself. You must get home before it gets really dark and the Park Keeper closes the park. She stood up, smoothing down her dress and running her fingers through her tousled hair.

  Now what did I do with my knickers?

  She looked around the clearing. A slight gust of wind made the branches of the trees sway a little – it was then she saw them, they were caught on a branch half way up a very old creaking tree – waving about like a pirate’s flag.

  ‘Oh fantastic! How on earth am I going to get them down from there?’

  A fleeting thought crossed her mind – leave them there, she had a drawer-full at home. But she soon dismissed that idea, when a playful wind lifted her short full circular skirt – revealing her hot bare bottom. ‘Geez! That would be so embarrassing if it happened in the street,’ she said out loud.

  She realised she would have to do something to get them down.

  She studied the situation – OK, there were footholds, plenty of them, in the knotted, gnarled trunk of the tree.

  Right Merrilee, you’ve climbed higher trees than this when you were playing with your brothers, she told herself.

  She started on her upward journey. It was even easier than she thought it would be. It was going to be a piece of cake.

  ‘You’re doing fine, Merrilee,’ she encouraged herself. ‘Just don’t look down.’

  Now she could see the black nylon scrap of material on a higher branch, just to the left of where she was clinging on to the tree trunk. Carefully she reached out to an overhanging branch. Her hands went to grab her knickers – but a mischievous gust of wind blew them out of her reach. She again reached out for them; the branch on which she was standing creaked loudly.

  Then, without any further warning, she felt the branch beneath her giving way Reaching out wildly, she managed to grab hold of the one above her. She watched in horror as the branch on which only a moment ago she had been standing fell to the ground below.

  She was now holding on to a branch, her legs threshing about in her panic. She could feel her heart beating in her throat. The ground below seemed like miles away. Then the branch she was hanging on to creaked warningly.

  ‘Please don’t break, please don’t break,’ she prayed to herself.

  ‘Oh God, what am I going to do?’ she asked out loud.

  ‘OK, keep very still.’ It was a man’s voice; it came from above her. ‘I want you to let go of the branch with your left hand.’ His voice was so calm; she just knew she could trust him.

  He was leaning down towards her. She let go of the branch and a large, sunburned male hand caught hold of her wrist, ‘OK I’ve got you. Now I want you to be a brave girl and let go of the branch with your other hand. I know it’s scary, but I’m here.’

  As if in slow motion she obeyed him. He grabbed hold of her right wrist.

  ‘Good girl,’ he said.

  For a moment she was dangling there, then, as if she was weightless, he pulled her up to where he was sitting in a fork of the tree.

  ‘There’s room for the two of us,’ he said, moving over a bit to make room for her.

  Clinging on to him, she burst into tears.

  ‘Shhh! You’re safe now.’ He cuddled her, rocking her gently as if she was a baby, holding her against his brown hairy chest, until her sobbing had subsided. ‘OK are you ready?’ he asked. ‘ I’m now going to lower you to the ground.’

  Slipping a rope over her head, ‘Put it round your waist,’ he told her, when she did, he tightened it.

  ‘Do you trust me?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, why?’

  ‘Cos I’m going to let the rope out a bit at a time; you will reach the ground safely. Just don’t struggle.’

  ‘O-OK,’ she said, with a tremor in her voice.

  ‘Good girl,’ he said. ‘Now I want you to lower yourself so that you are holding onto this branch.’

  She did as he told her.

  ‘Now let go,’ he said. ‘I’m here; I’m going to be controlling your descent. I won’t let you fall.’

  For a moment she felt like a rag doll, as she swayed there, feeling helpless, with nothing to hold onto. Then very slowly he let out the rope inch by inch until she reached the ground safely.

  She watched as he came down the tree agilely. Wow! He’s so dishy, she thought to herself.

  She was standing, with her back against the tree trunk. He landed on his feet in front of her.

  At six feet four he towered over her five feet. She looked up at him. Feeling his raw masculinity, her heart skipped a beat. She found herself wondering what it would be like to be spanked by him?

  ‘Thanks for rescuing me,’ she said. ‘I must go now.’

  ‘Not so fast young lady,’ he said catching hold of her arm. ‘Do you realise the danger you put yourself into by climbing that tree?’

  ‘I was trying to get my …’ she started to explain.

  ‘It doesn’t matter why you were climbing that tree,’ he interrupted her, ‘you should have had more sense. What would have happened if I hadn’t come along?’

  He shook her gently. ‘It’s a very old tree, and it’s beginning to get brittle. That’s why the branch you were standing on broke off under your weight.’

  ‘Right,’ she answered with a shudder. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘So you should be,’ he said quietly. ‘But saying you’re sorry is not enough for me. ‘I’m going to make sure that you really are sorry.’

  ‘Wh – what do you mean?’ she stammered trying to back away from him. But he just tightened his grip on her arm. ‘Right young lady, what’s your name?’

  ‘Merrilee,’ she answered. ‘Anyway, what’s it to you?’ she asked cheekily.

  ‘I’m the Park Keeper. I have to report anyone I find damaging the park’s property. You could find yourself up before a Magistrate.’

  ‘You wouldn’t,’ she said.

  ‘Oh yes I would, Merrilee; it would be my public duty. The Magistrate may send you to a Young Offenders Institution or give you a heavy fine.’

  ‘I – I – I said I’m sorry,’ she said sulkily.

  ‘Yes, you did and I said it wasn’t enough, didn’t I, Merrilee?’

  She nodded her head.

  ‘Now, young lady it’s time you were taught a lesson.’

  Dragging her over to the tree stump – hers and Pete’s picnic table – he sat down on it, pulling her wriggling body over his knee.

  Lifting her skimpy short skirt he gave a gasp.

  ‘Where are your knickers you naughty girl?’

  ‘Up the tree,’ she answered. ‘I was trying to tell you, that’s why I was climbing up it.’

  ‘OK, but I’m still going to spank you for putting your life in danger.’

  He looked down at her upturned bottom. ‘I haven’t laid a finger on you yet, but it appears that someone else has already spanked you and not too long ago.’

  She said nothing, just giggled.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ he asked.

  Looking back at him over her left shoulder and with a big grin on her face, she said sweetly. ‘Please sir, can I have some more?’

  Ev’rybody Get Together

  by Landon Dixon

  “Form up!” The men snapped to attention, slamming their heels together, as one.

  “March!” The men stomped forward, batons at the ready, a solid blue mass bristling with threat.

  The belligerent crowd of protesters retreated, giving up precious street to the advancing army of cops. Then a bottle flew, along with the raucous anti-war chants an
d proclamations of peace. Then a rock, a brick. A barrage of profanity and debris that deadened all songs of love and brotherhood.

  The line broke and the men in the riot gear charged the mob, billy clubs flailing. Hell breaking loose on the downtown streets of Chicago for the fourth bloody Democratic convention night in a row.

  Desk-jockey strategies of non-violent crowd control and coffee shop chatterings of non-violent protest were lost in the vicious tumult, the righteous passion firing far past the flashpoint on both sides. Nightsticks thudded against unwashed bodies and greasy hair, fists and feet and pine placards lashing back at the Heat. Cops pounding hippies and anyone else they could lay their clubs on, lovers-not-fighters transforming into warriors and throwing everything they could tear off the Michigan Avenue battleground at the pigs.

  Frank Harris butt-ended a tie-dyed Jesus Freak in the stomach with his baton, the long-haired and bearded drop-out doubling over in agony, granny glasses catapulting off his nose to shatter in the gutter. Old Testament meeting New Age in the roaring heat of battle. But just before Frank could administer final justice with a baton shot to the skull, someone dealt him a placard shiver to the ribs from behind.

  He grunted, whirled around.

  A tiny flower child stood there in the midst of the roiling mob; a teenaged girl in sandals and poncho and leather headband, wielding a Make Love Not War club in her little hands. She gazed up at the big cop in the riot helmet and face shield, eyes wide with what she’d done. Frank lifted his baton to strike another blow for Law & Order. Then froze.

  And the war raging right there in America’s backyard was suddenly lost to him. The hate surging through his veins – for the hippies and the freaks and the druggies; the ‘love’ generation that spurned their parents’ way of life and turned-on and tuned-in to all the wrong things, turned their backs on his beloved country – went suddenly chill in his heart, as he stared at the young woman. He thumbed back his face shield and mouthed, “Mary?”

  She stared back at the hard-bitten man in the blue battle gear – the fascist fuzz, the enemy of the people, the state oppressor – tears welling up in her pale-blue eyes. “Daddy?” she gasped.

  The generation gap yawned before them, a crack in the foundation of America that had ruptured into a gulf, swallowing entire families. And then a wild-eyed cop raised his nightstick up behind Mary’s head and Frank did what any father would do for his daughter, no matter how misguided. He leapt forward and pushed her aside, taking the officer’s baton full-on one of his huge shoulders.