She was just curious at first. She had always had a fascination with spanking and could never convince any of her former boyfriends into doing it. She'd made that first appointment just so she could scratch the itch, but then found in the following months that she needed her weekly sessions and they even helped her curb some of her more undesirable behaviors. She hadn't been late for work in well over a month and she was even eating better and exercising regularly. Apparently those good habits did not extend to her driving. But still, this was not her regular session, and they were in public; she would not agree to this.
“I was just going to warm you up with my hand and let you off with a warning, but if you want to argue with me,” he said, shrugging his shoulders as if it didn't matter which choice she made. He removed his gun belt, placing it on the hood in front of her, then he started unbuckling his belt. He slid it through the loops of his uniform pants.
She squeezed her thighs together as moisture pooled inside her panties. She had felt the sting of that belt and did not enjoy it, but her traitorous pussy had other things in mind. She straightened then and used her hands to cover her backside.
“Hands on the hood,” he said, as he folded the belt in half.
“Brad!” she exclaimed.
He raised his eyebrows, “Sir,” he corrected.
“Please, my session is tomorrow, you can punish me then, don't do this here,” she pleaded.
“Hands on the hood, if you won't take it on the bare then you'll get the belt. You're getting six, now get into position,” he said.
She shook her head, “You can't do this, I won't let you.”
“Twelve then,” he countered and took a step closer.
Her mouth flew open, but she had no argument left, she knew from experience he would just keep upping her punishment, and she still had to face him tomorrow. She turned and placed her hands on the hood, squeezing her eyes shut, hoping he would deliver her punishment before a car happened to pass by.
~ ~ * ~ ~
Brad tried not to show how much he was enjoying this. He still had three hours left on his shift and he had been bored to death before Julie sped by in her sporty, little, red car. It was just his luck that he clocked her going almost twenty over the speed limit. This road was deserted, she wasn’t putting anyone at risk but herself; but for him that was enough. Anyone else, he would have given a stern lecture and let them off with a warning. But Julie, with her sassy mouth and her short skirts, she begged him to spring into action. He noticed her check engine light was on, something she had made a goal to attend to this week, he was going to offer to check under the hood, but then she went and mouthed off at him. He gave her ass an appreciative glance, the skirt she so staunchly refused to raise barely covered her, she had no business wearing that in public, let alone to work.
“Where are you coming from?” he asked, leaning in closer, trying to see if he could detect liquor on her breath.
She eyed him as he leaned in, “A meeting at work.”
“Hm,” he said, going with his gut that she wasn't lying. “Why are you in such a rush?” He was worried she was going to say she had a date. There weren't many single women left in town, but Julie was a catch. She lived across the street from him and he had just worked up enough courage to ask her out when she had called and booked her first appointment. He had made it a policy not to date clients, but he was very close to breaking his own rules with this little hellion. The upside was he had formed a relationship with her, the downside was, it was strictly professional. Well, as professional as he could keep it when he kept envisioning every single one of his clients as Julie.
“Brad,” she said with a huff.
He flicked the belt down, catching the back of her thigh.
She yelped in response, “Ow! Sir, I'm sorry, sir.” She turned her head to face him, her cheeks a pretty pink even in the glow of the streetlight. “I'm missing my show, so can you speed this up?” She bit her lip, as if she were second guessing ordering him around.
“Which show?” he asked, as he tried to suppress another grin. She had the worst taste in television and he loved to tease her about her addiction to reality TV shows. But to be honest he had taken to watching most of them just so he had something to talk to her about.
“What? Am I on trial?” she asked, as she rolled her eyes.
He shook his head, he loved that sassy attitude, it was the same one that got her in trouble all the time, but that was part of the appeal- he was a spanking man after all. “Keep your hands flat, step your feet apart.” He waited until she complied, which she did with a sigh. “Don't reach back. Twelve,” he said and then leaned in to look in her eyes. “I won't make you count because I know you're in a rush.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, looking like she had a retort but thought better of it, instead she just nodded and turned to look straight ahead.
He drew his arm back and then cracked the belt across the middle of her skirted ass. She raised up on tip toes before putting her sandaled feet flat on the ground again.
He swung again, a little higher, eliciting an exhale from Julie. He looked up, ensuring they didn't have company. There would be no reason for someone to be on this road, only he and Julie lived out this way, but he checked just to be safe. Raising the belt, he swung down, catching the bottom of her butt and the tops of her thighs; her skirt flew up with the whoosh of the swing, causing his belt to make contact with bare skin.
Julie squealed and stomped her foot.
He quickly laid down three more lashes, all to the middle of her ass. Her hips bucked with each one and he paused after the sixth as she shimmied in place
“Six more, we'd be done now if you hadn't argued,” he reminded her.
She let out a defeated sigh.
“Do you need a minute?” he asked. He walked to her side, leaning to look into her face, it was hard to judge what she was thinking on the side of the darkened street. Before she could answer his radio blared to life. They both jumped as the garbled noise came out of the device that was still clipped to his gun belt.
It was Quentin, the other officer on duty. He had to relieve him down at the station. He had completely lost track of time dealing with Julie. Brad quickly threaded his belt through his loops. “Get your purse and lock your car,” he directed. He grabbed his gun belt, hooking it back around his hips and already walking to his cruiser when he realized she wasn't following.
She remained at the front of her car, staring back at him.
“Let's go! I don't have all night.” He turned away before she had a chance to argue.
~ ~ * ~ ~
Julie held her purse in her lap and stared out the passenger side window of Brad's cruiser. At least he had let her sit in the front seat, she wouldn't have been surprised if he had made her get in the back like a common criminal.
The station wasn't far from where they were, but the drive seemed to take an eternity as her ass throbbed with every minor bump. What was his plan, anyway? She tried three times to ask him what this was all about, but each time she chickened out.
Maybe he was arresting her. He couldn't do that, could he? Then she got an image in her head of Brad handcuffing her to her wrought iron bed, and suddenly her tongue was too thick to speak.
Brad parked the cruiser and she hurried out before he could round the car and open her door. This wasn't a date, and she wanted to get on with whatever they were doing so she could get home. He put a hand at the small of her back, guiding her away from the car into the small building that served as the town's police station. It held two desks and exactly two cells. To her knowledge they had only ever been used for the occasional drunk townie to sleep off a stupor; not much went on in these parts. “It's about time,” Quentin was heading for the door before they were even fully inside. “I promised Miranda I would swing by before the boys' bedtimes and I'm already late.” He stopped short when he looked up and saw Julie. “Well, hello there. Sorry Wilkinson, I didn't know you had business.”
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Julie felt her face flush, did Quentin think she was getting booked? Brad held out his hand, “Give me your keys.”
“What?” She gaped at him.
“Keys,” he demanded, with an outstretched hand.
She fumbled in her purse and placed her keys in his hand.
He handed them off to Quentin, “Can you get Julie's car over to Sal's shop on your way back? It needs to be looked at.”
“Sure thing, want me to drop her at home?” Quentin asked with a tilt of his head toward her.
She fumed that they spoke about her like she wasn't in the room, and she was pissed that Brad was handing over her car without consulting her.
“No, we have some things to discuss, I'll take her with me when you get back and my shift's over.”
With that, Quentin left, with her keys in his pocket.
“What was that about?” she asked, she felt like stomping her foot and throwing a full on temper tantrum. “Nothing is wrong with my car!”
He raised his eyebrows at her, then casually took a seat behind his desk. “Your check engine light is on,” he informed her.
And it had been on for months, but the look on his face made her decide she wasn't admitting that, “So? Did it really need to be dealt with tonight?”
“Come have a seat.” He gestured to the chair in front of his desk.
She lowered herself into the seat with a grumble.
“Do you have your objectives with you?” Brad asked.
He referred to the paper she filled out each week at his sessions. He had her pick something she wanted to work on, setting herself a goal, or some behavior to improve upon. She had no idea if he did this with all of his clients, but she had found it quite helpful. She pressed her lips together and stared back at him. One of her objectives for this week had been to get her car serviced. She kept putting it off, so she thought writing it down and making it a goal would help her get it done. Only it hadn't, and now she was caught.
She shook her head at him, “My session is tomorrow, and technically I still had a day left to get it done, so this doesn't count.”
“Really?” He leaned back in his chair and rubbed a hand along his jaw, “You were going to get your car serviced tomorrow, while you were at work?”
She looked away, no she had no plans to do that and they both knew it, but she'd be damned if she admitted it.
“Looks like you still have the rest of your spanking coming for speeding and then we need to deal with you not meeting your goal,” he listed.
She gaped at him, “This is not my session. I'm not paying for this.”
“Now this just frees us up to work on something else tomorrow,” he said with a smile. “And you can consider this free of charge.” He winked at her and she could almost feel steam rising off her face she was so heated.
“You'll spank me twice for the price of one, how charitable of you,” she said sarcastically. He was up and out of his chair before she could blink, he grabbed her elbow and dragged her to a corner across from his desk. “Why don't you stand here and think about how you might want to change your attitude when speaking to me in the future?” Then he reached under her skirt and slid her panties down her legs, urging her to step out of them. He picked them up and dangled them in front of her, “Maybe you can have these back later if I feel like you earned them.”
He turned to leave and she couldn't help it when she muttered, “Jerk,” under her breath. She jumped when his hand cracked down against her backside, “Brat,” he replied, standing much too close for her liking, she was very aware of his hard muscled chest that was just inches from her face. She held her breath, so as not to inhale his intoxicating scent, until he backed away and retreated to his desk. She heard his chair squeak and she blew out a sigh, staring at the apex of the walls in front of her.
As outraged as she wanted to be, she couldn't help but feel a little relieved at this moment. Yes, she was standing in a corner and she was awaiting a punishment, but Brad had taken over, he was making sure her car got looked at, he wasn't letting her get away with her reckless behavior, and he was putting her in her place for being such a bitch. It was comforting, in a way, although, she would never admit it. She let her mind wander to the perfect world where she could have it all, a man that put his foot down and made sure she was taken care of, and also not give up her mind and her freedom. She was worried she couldn't have both. Not for the first time in her life she felt defeated by the list of demands she seemed to require in a partner, no wonder she was still alone.
“Are you ready to be more civil?” Brad's question cut through her thoughts. She turned toward him and nodded, then crossed the room at his direction. He had cleared the top of his desk off and was standing beside it waiting for her. She gulped as she neared him. His gun belt was slung over the back of his chair and he held his uniform belt in his hand. Heavy, thick leather, an unforgiving implement. The crack of it against her skin was loud, but the burn it left in its wake made more of an impression.
“You have six more with this for the speeding,” he said, as he gestured for her to bend over the desk. “Then we can address the neglect of your car.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied, and watched as his eyes softened at her demure response. She bent over the edge of the desk, stretching her arms up and wrapping her fingers around the edge.
She felt cool air against her naked skin as Brad pushed her skirt up, baring her to his view. The deal had been that she was getting the belt because she had refused to lower her panties, but she guessed the deal was off now that she had pushed him and they were in the relative privacy of the station.
He tapped her ass with the belt, as if measuring up the distance for his swing. “Feet flat, don't reach back,” he reminded her.
Before she could grunt out a reply he swung down low, striking both sit spots in one blow.
She pushed a breath out through gritted teeth, determined to take her punishment in silence. The whoosh of air and the crack of the belt, it could have been a hypnotizing rhythm, aside from the pain it shot through the lower region of her body. She betrayed herself and began to whimper after the fourth lash fell.
Julie almost lost it when Brad placed a steadying hand on the small of her back, “Almost there, you're doing well,” he encouraged.
She blinked back tears, she was determined to remain stoic, this was what she had signed up for, it seemed stupid to cry about it.
He brought the belt down for the fifth time, right across the center of her buttocks, but it felt like that line had been overlapped so many times it took all she had not to let out a howl.
The sixth followed closely on its heels, as if he wanted this over as much as she.
She sucked in air, trying to calm herself, trying to convince herself it was over and she had survived. She heard Brad's labored breathing behind her, and wondered what had him so worked up, it was half a dozen swings with his belt, surely he administered much longer spankings than this?
He pulled her up off the desk and she turned, wanting a hug, wanting to be held close. She was caught off guard when he gathered her up and seated her in his lap as he sat behind his desk. He cupped her throbbing bottom in one hand and used the other to push her head against him.
She buried her face in the crook of his neck, feeling foolish for being so emotional over such a minimal punishment. She blamed the stress of her day: her loneliness coupled with her mood, it was making her needy. She wasn't crying, but she needed to be held and Brad seemed to sense this without her asking.
“Are you alright?” he murmured against her hair.
She nodded into him, not yet ready to face him again, not ready for this moment to end, she wished he could hold her forever. She had a fleeting thought that he must do this with all of his clients and the jealousy that shot through her was telling of the feelings she had developed for him. After several long minutes, she untangled herself from him and sat back to look in his eyes, “Sorry,” she said, her voice com
ing out as a whisper. “I don't know what that was about.”
He gave her a smile, “You don't have to apologize.”
~ ~ * ~ ~
She seemed so tiny as he held her in his lap. Something had happened while she was in the corner, she seemed resigned and sad and he almost couldn't finish the six measly spanks he had sentenced her to. He brushed the hair back away from her face, he looked at her pretty pink lips and the smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose, she looked back at him with wide eyes, waiting for him to speak. He made a decision, and he had never felt so certain of anything in his life. “We need to talk about something,” he began.
She nodded, “The car.”
He almost forgot about that. “That too,” he admitted. “We could wait until tomorrow, do you remember the consequence for not meeting your goals?”
She bit her lip and looked down in her lap, “The cane?” She said it as a question, as if she were uncertain.
“Right.” He nodded, he had never had to use the cane on Julie before, she was a determined and head strong woman. She had met all the goals she had set for herself so far. He was guessing this had just been a rough week and a momentary lapse in judgment. “If we wait until tomorrow then you'll get the cane, or we can deal with it tonight.”
She looked to be weighing her options, he suspected the thought of the cane scared her. “What happens tonight?” she asked.
He pointed to his lap, “You'll go over my knee, and I'll spank you until I think you've had enough. No set amount beforehand, you just have to trust me to know your limits.” With all of his clients he set an amount, everything was very clinical, things were agreed upon beforehand, he even had paperwork. This was asking for something on another level, this was crossing the line from professional to very personal. He wasn't surprised to find that he wanted nothing more than to have Julie's pert little ass bare and under his hand, he just wasn't sure if she wanted the same.
The Disciplinarian: A Collection of Short Spanking Stories Page 3