Quinn stepped in front of Kit, placing himself between her and the orange collared man. “Is this really necessary?” he asked.
Kit laid a hand on Quinn’s shoulder. “It’s alright,” she said, “he just wants to prove he’s the one with the power.”
The orange collared man produced a leather strap from inside his white coat. The smug confidence sparkling in his eyes proved beyond any doubt he had done this sort of thing in the past. Rex’s grin and stance indicated he not only knew it, but had counted on it. Tara recognized the signs, knew with the right words she could probably end the whole thing right then and there. She remained silent, afraid to draw attention to herself, afraid she might make matters worse rather than better. Because that’s what always happened when she tried to do the right thing.
“Get your clothes off,” the orange collared man said, looking at Kit.
Kit reached inside her jacket and lifted both pistols from her waist. She kept them pointed at the deck. Her eyes pointed at the orange collared man.
“D-don’t d-do,” the orange collared man said, “an-anything you’ll r-regret.”
Kit said, “I’m not getting naked for you.”
The orange collared man straightened his spine. “You agreed to a spanking.”
“Yes, I did,” Kit said. “I didn’t agree to humiliation.”
“Well it’s not a spanking if it’s not on the bare,” the orange collared man said.
Kit glanced at Quinn.
Quinn shrugged. “The man’s got a point. I’m sure you can just bare your bottom though and that’ll satisfy everyone.”
Kit handed the pistols to Quinn and shook her head at the orange collared man. Her fingers unfastened her belt and opened the front of her jeans. She let the jeans fall to her knees and slipped her finger into the waistband of her panties. Her eyes glared into those of the orange collared man. She yanked her panties down until they rested inside the top of her jeans around her knees. Her hands folded together, covering herself in front.
“Let’s get this over with,” she said.
The orange collared man nodded and stepped up to take position beside and behind kit. “Bend down,” he said.
Kit leaned forward resting her palms on her knees. The air in the cargo hold felt sticky. She could hear the breathing of her friends, of Rex, of the orange collared man, and of the arm of inspectors watching from outside the cargo bay. It should have turned her face bright red. Embarrassment should have flushed her skin from head to toe. The recent events in her life had changed her. She felt nothing about her predicament, not even anger.
The strap tapped against her exposed butt. It was soft and worn with use and age. The orange collared man drew it back and snapped it through the air, cracking it against her bulging flesh. Her buttocks wobbled and bounced. A red stripe rose to the surface of her white skin. Kit blinked and breathed like normal, like she was still waiting for the first stroke to fall.
“You know I’m doing you a favor here,” the orange collared man said.
Kit looked through her arm at him. “I agreed to a spanking not a lecture. If your finished, I’ve got a delivery to make and if you’re not, you’re wasting time.”
The orange collared man raised the strap and slashed it down on her buttocks. He didn’t wait for the next stripe to raise, but instead raised the strap again and whipped it through the air toward her waiting backside. His arm began to blur with the speed of his motion as he strapped her naked butt with all the vigor he could muster. The cargo bay echoed with the crack of leather snapping against raw skin and the labored breaths of the orange collared man.
Kit blinked in tune with each impact. She maintained her breathing, controlled and even, unaffected by the sting of the strap. Her butt turned from white to red, to dark red. The redness rose in stripes identical in width to the strap and each stripe brought with it a warmth that built steadily on stripe after stripe until her bottom felt ready to ignite in flames. A tickling sting spread across her naked, bouncing flesh. She felt no remorse and there were no tears in her eyes.
Having landed at least fifty strokes, the orange collared man stopped swinging his arm and consequently, the strap. “We’re done.”
He tucked the strap back inside his coat. Kit straightened and pulled her clothes back into place with her back still to the orange collared man. From the corner of her eye she caught a nod between Rex and the man. It served only to confirm the suspicions already circulating in her head. The orange collared man descended the ramp and joined his army of inspectors. Without a backward glance they left the docking bay.
Kit looked at Rex. “I ought to throw you out the airlock just as soon as we clear the station.”
Rex laughed. “Suit yourself, but you’ll only have yourself to blame when you find yourself being hunted all over the galaxy.”
“You’re not that important,” Quinn said, “or that well liked.”
Rex said, “No, but our cargo is. You get rid of me and you won’t know where to deliver it or to whom, but the people who are expecting it, know who you are. Throw me out the airlock and you might as throw yourself out too.”
Tara said, “We aren’t actually going to deliver this shit are we?”
Kit scowled at Rex. “We don’t have a choice. We’ve accepted the job and money has already changed hands.”
Rex nodded. “Yep, I had you pegged from the moment we met. It’s always all about the money.”
Kit’s hands pressed against her tender backside. “Let’s just get out of here and get the job done.”