Imagine The Stories

The Pickett Family Holiday, Part 09

2012-01-16T07:00:00.000-08:00

Stephanie parked the old red wagon on the porch and took a momentary pause from her chores, staring at the empty wood stack frame. The wagon held a full load of fresh cut firewood, piled two feet higher than its rusted metal edges. She knelt in the space between the wagon and the wood stack, ignoring the cold roughness of the concrete against her bare knees. Her hands went about the business of transferring wood while her thoughts drifted through the raging waters of her guilty conscience.

It’d be easier to tell them now, she thought. I’m already in trouble. How much worse can it get?
She sat back on her heels, wiped sweat from her forehead with the back of her arm, sighed, and resumed her work.
A lot.
The voice of a man interrupted her chore-inspired meditation. “Do you think I might be able to steal a couple of those from you?”
She blinked away the images plaguing her consciousness and focused on the reality before her. His black shoes were polished to a dull shine that reflected a meticulousness she rarely encountered. Her eyes moved upward from his shoes drinking in entirety of the man standing over her. He wore tan slacks, pleated and neatly ironed, a black leather dress belt with a shiny silver buckle, and a light blue long sleeve oxford with a buttoned down collar. The shirt pocket even held a pen, black with a silver clip, and a small spiral notepad.
Her gaze settled on his face, pleasant with round cheeks, sparkling green eyes and neatly groomed light brown hair cut to a business length. His lips remained flat, uncommitted to a smile or a frown and his eyes darted nervously from her face to the firewood on both sides of her.
She leaned back, sitting on her heels and brushed her hands together, clearing them of dust and splinters. “Who are you?”
“Jason,” he said and extended his hand down toward her.
Stephanie stared blankly at him.
He said, “I’m Amanda’s boyfriend.”
She inhaled sharply. “Oh.” She shook his hand briefly and then rested her hands on the front of her apron. It occurred to her that he might or might not realize she wasn’t wearing anything beneath the apron. The way his eyes kept avoiding her suggested he was uncomfortable with the situation. She knew the feeling well. “I’m Stephanie, the middle sister.”
“Right.” He nodded. His arms swayed at his sides, fingertips keeping time tapping against his slacks. “I guess you drew the short straw.”
Her eyebrow raised.
His head tilted to the side in a subtle gesture toward the yard beyond the porch. “Working out her instead of helping out in the kitchen.”
Stephanie scoffed shaking her head and looking down at his shoes for a moment before staring back up into his eyes. “Maybe I’m the lucky one.”
“If you truly think so,” his round cheeks grew rosy, “then you’ve got a very odd definition of lucky.”
Her gaze dropped lower and a hot blush graced her own cheeks. Any doubt regarding what he knew of her situation evaporated in the wake of his words. She hoped his observation did not include a view of her posterior, but the hope felt fragile and unrealistic. Her hands found two pieces of firewood on the wagon and she lifted them up in his direction. “I think this is what you were looking for.”
He took the wood and turned back toward the door into the house. A half step later he stopped and looked back. “You know, I could come back and give you a hand,” he said. “If you’d like.”
Stephanie’s hands, already atop more wood in the wagon, paused in their movement as she turned her head back toward Jason. The sympathetic expression on his face transformed into a silly grin in her imagination. She could see him watching her from behind as she loaded the wagon with a fresh batch of firewood. His eyes danced as she bent down, pushing her reddened buttocks out in his direction and his hands clapped together in thunderous applause while she blushed hot as a fire in a hearth.
“Thanks,” she said, blinking away the nightmarish image in her mind’s eye, “but I think I can manage without the applause.”
A short while later, Stephanie stood, push broom in hand, with a pile of dust, dirt and wood splinters gathered at the edge of the porch. The wood stack had been filled, the yard had been cleared of fallen leaves, and her chores were all but finished. She could smell the sweet aroma of butter rolls baking in the oven inside mixed with the rustic scent of wood burning in the fireplace. The cool afternoon air turned cold as the sun dropped below the treetops. A wistful image of standing before the fireplace, warming her hands to the crackle of yellow and orange flame dancing behind the guard, filled her thoughts. She felt warmer just from the imagining.
The back door slid open causing Stephanie to spin around, hiding her exposed back from the sight of her visitor. She realized the glass door made it highly unlikely her visitor hadn’t already gotten an eyeful, but still she felt less embarrassed facing someone. The reflecting glare of the setting sun caused her to squint as she stared toward the door.
Her father stepped out onto the porch and closed the door. He stepped closer until she could see him clearly and there remained only a few feet separating them. “Dinner’s almost ready,” he said.
Stephanie glanced at the pile behind her. “So am I.”
He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops and looked around the porch, eyes pausing on the wood stack first and then on the swept pile sitting on the edge of the porch. “Almost isn’t done,” he said.
Her lips fell flat and her eyes failed to meet her father’s gaze. “You said I had until dinner.”
He nodded. “And as usual you’re pushing my limits.”
She stared at his boots. There wasn’t enough time, she thought. Failure was inevitable and we both knew it from the start.
He pointed at the pile. “Finish sweeping that off the edge.”
Stephanie’s eyes followed the invisible line from his finger and turned around. Six quick swipes of the broom later, the porch was cleared and the pile was gone. She turned back to her father and held the broom upright next to her. The silence under the watchful eyes of her father called for some lip biting and she didn’t fight the urge.
He unhooked his thumbs and looked at his wristwatch. “Looks like you’ve got about ten minutes to get yourself out to the shed, take care of that broom, get out of that apron, and put your dress back on for dinner. You think you can handle that or do I need to come along and motivate you?”
Her eyes brightened and she looked up into his face. She smiled as if she had just been given the best gift of the entire year. “Yes, sir,” she said. “I can handle that fine.”
He smiled and chuckled. “Glad to hear it. Now, get going and don’t dally cause your mother won’t be holding dinner for even a second waiting on you.”
Stephanie nodded. She lifted the broom for carrying and scurried off toward the shed as fast as she could manage without her knees ripping the strings off the apron.
Dressed and feeling almost normal, Stephanie sat at the dinner table. The cushion felt hard pressed against her still tender buttocks, but the majority of her morning spanking’s discomfort had long since faded. She ignored the knowing eyes watching her from around the table and instead focused on the food. It smelled incredibly good and, coupled with the fact she had not eaten a bite the entire day, it was all she could do to keep her stomach from roaring with impatience while her father carved the turkey.
Her mother took each plate and in turn filled them with stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans, cranberry sauce, and two butter rolls. The plates then moved to Mr. Pickett and he layered them with cuts of turkey, light or dark meat as the plate’s owner desired. Though the process took only a matter of minutes before the plates were filled and sitting in front of everyone, for Stephanie it seemed a virtual eternity as her mouth salivated for the welcome taste of sustenance.
Mr. Pickett took his seat at the table and smile in the direction of his wife. She cleared her throat, drawing the assembled group’s attention to herself. “I’m thankful for 27 years of marriage to the man of my dreams,” she smiled at her husband, “and of course to have all three of my beautiful daughters home for the holiday.”
Across the table, Nicole said, “I’m thankful to have a wonderful family and husband who are always there to support me no matter what.”
Todd chuckled. “That’s just because you don’t like to work.”
Everyone laughed except Nicole. She stared at Todd in a way that made Stephanie wonder if the flatware was about to take flight.
Todd said, “I’m only kidding, but seriously, I’m thankful to have such a beautiful, intelligent, loving, and most importantly, forgiving wife.”
Mr. Pickett said, “I’m always thankful to have my wife and children, but today I’m especially thankful we can all sit and enjoy this meal together.”
Stephanie rolled her eyes. The emphasis her father put of the word sit, intentionally she imagined, made it clear his comment was at least indirectly directed at her and the manner in which she’d spent the morning and afternoon. A glance around the table assured her everyone knew the “hidden” meaning behind his words.
“Well,” Amanda said, “I’m just really thankful it wasn’t my bath towel mom found on the floor this morning.”
Stephanie glared at her younger sister across the table, but Nicole’s tongue was faster. “No, that was yesterday morning,” said Nicole, “by this morning your butt had learned how to hang it up on the rack.”
Amanda blushed and elbowed Jason beside her as if he was supposed to defend her. Instead, he did a poor job of hiding the smirk on his face and said, “I’m thankful just to be here with all of you. It’s really nice to be with a family that actually wants to be together.”
Todd nodded from the other end of the table. “Ain’t that the truth,” he said. “Some years I’m not sure if my dad is going to carve the turkey or my mother.”
Nicole said, “That’s because it gets harder to tell which is which each year.”
“Nicole!” Mrs. Pickett said. “We don’t talk about other people like that, especially not at the dinner table.”
Todd laid a reassuring hand on Mrs. Pickett’s arm. “It’s okay, my dad would say the same thing.”
Mr. Pickett said, “It’s not okay. My daughters were all raised with better manners than that and Nicole knows very well that if she was still living under my roof, she’d be fetching a bar of soap right now for talking like that.”
“I’m sorry,” Nicole said. “I was only joking and didn’t intend to offend anyone.”
Mr. Pickett said, “I doubt Todd’s mother would find it very funny or inoffensive. Shall we call and ask her?”
“Really,” Todd said, “it’s not a big deal.”
Mr. Pickett’s focus shifted to his son in law. “You’re right, it’s not a big deal now, but a lot of little deals have a way of piling up to be bigger than the big deals. I can tell you straight out, if my wife had the audacity to insult my mother at the dinner table, guests or no, she’d at minimum be taking a bare bottomed trip over my knee.”
Todd looked from Nicole to Mr. Pickett. “I understand and respect your way of doing things in your home, but if and when I have issues with Nicole, I prefer to handle them in private.”
“Public or private is your business,” Mr. Pickett said, “but the fact is you aren’t handling things. She steals money out of your wallet, insults your mother, and God knows what else, and you do nothing at all.”
Mrs. Pickett’s eyes opened wide as she stared at Nicole. “You’re stealing again?”
Nicole turned scarlet and shook her head. “No, it was just a misunderstanding. I told him I needed the money and he forgot.”
Mr. Pickett said, “Donuts and coffee aren’t a need.”
Nicole rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “Tell that to Todd. He’s the one who has to get a cup of Celia’s brew every morning. That was the first time I’d gone out for breakfast since the middle of July.”
Todd’s head snapped back to his wife. “Excuse me? I get a $3 cup of coffee every morning, yes, but you go out to lunch five days a week and spend a hell of a lot more than three bucks.”
Nicole met her husband’s gaze. “If you’d go grocery shopping more than once a month maybe I wouldn’t have to go out to lunch all the time.”
“Why should I go grocery shopping?” Todd said. “Your the professional homemaker or should I say wrecker considering the messes you leave all over the apartment.”
Mr. Pickett said, “It sounds to me like those little things are already piling up. Maybe you two would like some private time in the shed with my strap.”
Nicole glanced nervously in her father’s direction, but quickly returned her focus to Todd. “I think it would be best if we resumed this discussion at home later.”
Todd looked less than convinced.
Nicole said, “After all dinner is getting cold and Stephanie hasn’t even told us what she’s thankful for this year.”
Stephanie’s stomach voted in favor of being nice to her older sister despite not having in real sympathy for her. She said, “I’m thankful we’re finally going to eat.”
Mr. Pickett glared down the length table at her. Nobody said a word. In fact, no one seemed to be breathing at all.
Stephanie shook her head, rolling her eyes at the ceiling. “And of course I’m very thankful to be home with my loving parents and wonderful sisters and their significant others. It’s truly a wonderful life I’m living.”

The Pickett Family Holiday, Part 08

2011-12-21T07:00:00.000-08:00

“Six hours may as well be six minutes,” Stephanie said, staring at the stretch of yard between the shed and the chain link fence separating her parents’ property from their neighbors. “I’m never going to get this done.”

A gust of wind brought more leaves falling from the treetops, supporting her pessimistic perspective. She looked to her left toward the house. Her father and Todd were gone from sight. She focused on the glass door near the kitchen. Inside, her sisters and mother were busy making the preparations for the big meal. She couldn’t see them, but she knew, if they were looking out, they could see her.

Her head turned to the right and she stared at the far corner of the yard where an old sycamore marked the meeting of four yards. The chain link fences ended beneath the shade of the tree where the roots were thick and rolling in and out of the dark soil. There were still a pair of swings hanging from the branches. Her father had made them shortly after they’d moved into the house. They were nothing more than 2x4’s and thick rope, but they’d made for hours of childhood fun. And not just for Stephanie and her sisters, it had been the joy of all the kids who’d grown up in the houses that shared the old tree.
She lifted the rake, carrying it so the tines remained above the grass and the leaves as she walked across the yard toward the old tree. A voice from the past echoed in her thoughts, ‘The sooner you start, the sooner you finish.’ Once beneath the tree, she adjusted her grip and stance, holding the rake out in front of her and began the work of collecting the leaves. With the leaves came memories made sharp by the guilt still plaguing her soul. The strap should have washed those feelings clean, but it hadn’t and her past knew why.
Stephanie bumped one of the swings with the rake, sending it into a gentle sway. A decade ago she had been sitting on that swing. Someone else had been in trouble. She hadn’t meant to watch, but once it began she couldn’t bring herself to look away. It had been around the Thanksgiving holiday then too. Veronica Sanders had been home from college.
The Sanders’ lived in the house directly behind the Pickett’s. All the kids in the four homes sharing the sycamore had called her Aunt Vera on account of the fact she was Mitch’s aunt. It had always struck Stephanie as odd that someone as young as Aunt Vera could actually be an aunt. In some ways Aunt Vera had seemed more like just another one of the kids because even though she was the sister of Mitch’s father, she wasn’t really an adult. In fact, Mitch’s parents treated her more or less the same way they treated Mitch. Which is to say, Aunt Vera got scolded, spanked and grounded just as often as any of the rest of the kids did, sometimes more.
Aunt Vera hadn’t always lived with Mitch and his parents. She’d moved in at the not so grown up age of 14. There had been a car accident, Aunt Vera had been in the backseat, and when the car had stopped it had been twisted, bent, and turned upside down. Aunt Vera had crawled out the busted back window with nothing more than few scratches and a bruise on her forehead. Her parents hadn’t been so lucky. Neither of them made it out of the car.
In the eyes of the five year old Stephanie, the teenage Aunt Vera had seemed very grown up. They’d first met beneath the old sycamore, shortly after the accident. Aunt Vera had been sitting on one of the swings and Stephanie had joined her on the other. They sat and swung and talked until the sun drooped low in the sky and Stephanie decided they’d be friends forever.
Stephanie’s attention returned to the present. She stopped raking and a smile spread across her face as she realized what she’d done. Her monotonous efforts had resulted in a large pile of leaves just a few feet from the swing. Aunt Vera had made piles just like it and Stephanie, along with all the other kids, had taken turns jumping off the swings to land atop the piles. Stephanie was tempted to revisit her childhood activity, but her buttocks were still stinging enough to discourage her from sitting on anything hard and wooden. She shook off the temptation and resumed her raking activities.
Aunt Vera would have made a game out of the work. Stephanie had always admired her for that simple ability. No matter what Aunt Vera was doing, no matter how awful the task, she made it look fun and simple. And Aunt Vera had done her share of outdoor chores, probably more than her share cause she let Mitch talk her into doing his too from time to time.
Stephanie stopped raking. She used her off hand to rub at her burning buttocks. Sometimes, Aunt Vera had done her chores with a bare bottom too. That Thanksgiving had been one of those times.
Mr. Sanders had escorted Aunt Vera out of the house to the very back end of their yard. She hadn’t fought him despite his firm grasp on her wrist. They’d stopped walking just on the other side of the chain link fence only a few feet away from the old sycamore where Stephanie had been swinging. Mr. Sanders let go of Aunt Vera and they faced each other completely oblivious to Stephanie’s presence. There’d been tears in Aunt Vera’s eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Aunt Vera said. “I didn’t think—
“That’s right,” Mr. Sanders said, “you didn’t think at all.”
Even at 12 years old, Stephanie knew she should have left right then, but curiosity kept her butt firmly rooted on the wood swing. She blushed at the memory, thinking just how embarrassed she would be if there were a 12 year old kid sitting on the swing right then, watching her.
Aunt Vera had wiped at the tears in her eyes. “Nobody got hurt.”
The cool November air made it look like steam was pouring out of Mr. Sanders’ nostrils. “Nobody got hurt? You embarrassed the hell out of Lucy and what would have happened if she hadn’t brought a credit card with her?”
Aunt Vera had shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Mr. Sanders had shook his head at the sky. “Do you know what they call it when you go into a store to get things and don’t have any money to pay for them?”
She stood there just staring at him with big watery eyes.
“It’s called shoplifting,” Mr. Sanders said, “and at your age you damn well should know that young lady.”
Aunt Vera stomped her foot on the grass. “You’re not my father!”
Mr. Sanders clenched his hand into a fist and for a moment, Stephanie had thought he was going to hit Aunt Vera, really hit her. Then he took a deep breath and opened his hand. Stephanie had held her breath and kept watching.
He said, “Lucy and I are your guardians, but you’re right, I’m not our father. Dad would have taught you right from wrong. Obviously I failed in that.”
Aunt Vera looked away from Mr. Sanders. Her voice was muffled when she spoke. “I know right and wrong.”
Mr. Sanders reached out, grabbing Aunt Vera by the chin and turning her head back toward him. “If that’s true then you clearly have no respect for me or my family.”
“I do,” she said.
Mr. Sanders shook his head in disagreement. “It’s not respectful to steal money from Lucy’s purse. It’s not respectful to lie about it when Lucy confronted you. And it’s really not respectful to cast suspicion on your nephew for the things you’ve done.”
“It was only 40 bucks,” Aunt Vera said. “I didn’t think she’d even notice.”
Mr. Sanders shook his head. “Stealing isn’t ever right. It’s doesn’t matter whether some one notices you’ve done it or not.”
“I already said I’m sorry.” Aunt Vera looked up into Mr. Sanders’ eyes. “What more do you want me to say?”
Mr. Sanders met her gaze. “I want you to explain to me why you couldn’t just ask me for the money. I want you to explain to me why you tried to blame it on my son. I want you to explain to me what we’ve done to deserve you lying to us.”
Aunt Vera looked away. “Nothing.”
“Actions,” Mr. Sanders said, “have consequences.”
Her stance shifted and her eyes darted to Mr. Sanders’ face and then back to the blades of grass between them. The mixture of tension and apprehension charged the air between them like electricity. Aunt Vera’s lips moved, but the words were barely audible. “I know.”
Mr. Sanders shook his head. “I don’t think you do, but you will.”
She looked up into his eyes. Tears ran down her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
His hands moved to his belt and his fingers slipped beneath the brown leather, unfastening it from the brass buckle. “Turn around and touch your toes.”
Aunt Vera’s hands went to the seat of her skirt as if she could somehow protect herself from his intentions. She shook her head from side to side, disheveling her hair in the process. “It won’t happen again.”
Mr. Sanders pulled the belt free of his pants and doubled it in his hands. “Don’t make me tell you again.”
She looked up into his eyes and took a step back. The silence between them belied the battle of wills taking place in their stare. Her gaze dropped to the grass. She nibbled on her lower lip. Her hands wiped the wetness from her cheeks. She turned her back to him, took a deep breath, and leaned forward until her fingertips brushed the points of her mocha colored pumps.
He walked to her and grabbed the hem of her knee length skirt, tossing it up onto her back. His hand brushed over the waistband of her black lace panties. He hesitated while staring at her jutting bottom. The black lace covered only the top crescents of her buttocks, leaving the white cheeks fully exposed. He stepped back from her and adjusted his grip on the belt, measuring the distance between him and his target.
The belt lashed across the center of her white buttocks leaving behind a stripe of soft red flesh. Aunt Vera blinked, but otherwise failed to react to the beginning of the spanking. The echo of the belt’s impact faded away and all that remained was the rustle of leaves in the breeze and the creak of swaying tree branches. She inhaled deeply, holding the breath in expectation of the next swing of the belt.
Mr. Sanders swung again, striking her buttocks in almost exactly the same place as the first. “These first ten are for stealing,” he said.
Her hair brushed atop the blades of grass while she blinked and breathed. Whatever thoughts swirled around in her head, she gave them no voice. Her face grew redder by the minute, but whether it was from embarrassment, shame or simply the rushing of blood into her low hanging head, was impossible to tell. She kept her fingertips on the tips of her shoes and watched the belt through her slightly parted legs, anticipating its next slice through the autumn air.
“If you had asked,” he said, striping the belt across her buttocks twice more, coloring the lower half of her globes, “I might well have given you the money.”
Aunt Vera’s breaths turned sharp. Her hair bounced up and down on the grass like a dry brush giving texture to a canvas. She bent and straightened her knees.
“But,” he said, bringing the belt crashing down on the tender flesh just above her thighs, “since you decided to just take it,” the belt struck the same spot a second time, “you’re going to learn to appreciate its worth in hard work and sweat.”
Her legs trembled while she blinked back the fresh tears stinging at her eyes. She maintained her shallow, sharp breaths. Her fingertips remained in place and she kept her gaze trained on the dangling belt behind her.
He raised the belt and laid it on four more times, covering her butt evenly from the center down to the top of her thighs. The skin shined red as proof of the heat applied. He rested the belt beside his leg and tilted his head, admiring the view of his handiwork.
Mr. Sanders said, “You’ll do every household chore Lucy asks of you at rate of 50 cents per hour until you’ve earned back every quarter of that forty dollars. Is that understood?”
Aunt Vera breathed through her open mouth, eyes fluttering open and closed. Her knees bent and straightened twice before she decided to answer. “Yes.”
“Good,” he said and raised the belt again. He sliced it across her buttocks three times in quick succession, deepening the red color of the stripes across the center. “These next ten are for attempting to lay the blame for your crime on the shoulders of your twelve year old nephew.”
“Oh,” she gasped. Her legs swayed from side to side waving her butt in the open air.
Mr. Sanders waited until her motion ceased and then swung the belt three times fast at the lower curves of her red butt cheeks. The snap of leather against tight skin rang out in the hollow spaces between the neighborhood homes like a police siren.
“I’m sorry,” Aunt Vera said. The strain of tears and shallow breath gave her apology a sincerity it had lacked in her previous offerings.
“You should be ashamed,” he said and brought the belt down on her proffered buttocks.
She yelped and bent her knees. Her fingertips left their place temporarily as she grappled with an almost overwhelming instinct to cradle her bottom. She forced herself back into position without touching her tender cheeks, but her movements were slow and deliberate.
“You are 19 years old,” he said, “and that’s more than old enough to take responsibility for your own actions. If you ever try to blame him for your behavior again I’ll blister your bare butt right in front of him.”
He lifted the belt high and used it to punctuate his next words. “IS— THAT— UNDERSTOOD?”
Aunt Vera sprang into the air. Her hands grabbed at her burning buttocks. She hopped around in a circle, skirt and hair bouncing while she rubbed furiously at her bottom. Tears ran from her eyes down her cheeks. She sniffled still trying to stem the flow despite the floodgates being wide open.
When her legs tired of jumping, she looked up into Mr. Sanders stoic face. “I’m really, really sorry,” she said.
“I don’t doubt it,” he said. “I just hope you’re also learning the lesson. At your age this sort of behavior could land you a lot worse than spanking. You could find yourself behind iron bars instead of touching your toes next to a chain link fence.”
She wiped her face with the sleeve of her blouse and nodded her head. “I know.”
He pointed at the spot of grass where she had previously been bent over, touching her toes. “Now get back over here and get back in position,” he said. “We’re not finished yet.”
Her hands cradled her butt and she took a single step backward. “But I’m really sorry.”
Mr. Sanders snapped his fingers and pointed at the spot on the grass. His stern eyes and firm stance said everything that needed to be said. She bit her lower lip, let go of her butt and hustled into position. He flipped her skirt up onto her back once more and raised the belt into the air.
“Now,” he said, “we’re going to talk about you lying to me.”
She said, “It won’t ever happen again.” Her eyes fixated on the raised belt and her legs quivered in reluctant expectation.
The belt cut through the air, snapping against the taut skin of her exposed buttocks. She cried out at the fresh sting and her fingertips lifted from the points of her shoes. He ripped the belt backward through the air and brought it down three times hard. Her hands wavered at her knees, uncertain whether to grab at her burning cheeks or to hold herself in position.
“If you told me the truth from the beginning,” he said, “I could have kept my belt on and you could have kept your skirt down.”
He lashed the belt across the center of her buttocks four more times. The skin glowed red. Aunt Vera whimpered and cried, but kept her fingertips on her shoes and her butt up in the air. Her breath turned ragged from gasping for breath in her efforts to manage the burn and suppress her tears.
“Instead,” Mr. Sanders said, “we’re out here warming up your butt when we should be inside warming ourselves by the fire and enjoying some hot cider.”
The belt cut through the air four times more, brightening the lower curves of her buttocks. She yelped after each strike and after the last, she straightened. Her hands rubbed at her bottom while she hopped around in a circle. Tears glistened in the sunlight on her face.
“Settle down,” Mr. Sanders said.
Aunt Vera continued to hop, though she stopped turning in a circle. Her hands massaged the red flesh behind her, keeping her skirt up and the cheeks exposed. She sniffled and blinked in a futile effort to clear away her tears. Her lips trembled with the words of another apology most likely upon them.
He snapped his fingers and pointed at the grass again. “Back over,” he said, “we’re not done.”
She stopped hopping and looked up into his eyes with her own, wide and tearful. He snapped his fingers again. She turned away from him and leaned back down, keeping her skirt raised as she went. He snapped the belt against the low edge of her buttocks as soon as her fingers brushed the tops of her shoes. She yelped, but stayed down.
“Lying is just a delaying tactic,” he said. “The truth always comes out in the end.”
“I know,” she said through tears.
He nodded. “When you got licks coming from something you’ve done, telling the truth is just like doing your chores; The sooner you start, the sooner you finish.”
Aunt Vera nodded her upside down head, raking her hair through the grass. “I understand and I’m really, really sorry.”
“Good,” Mr. Sanders said. He unfolded his belt and began threading it back through the belt loops. “Stand up, give yourself a good rub, fix your skirt and then we can go back in the house. You owe Mitch and Lucy each a sincere apology.”
She stood up straight and wiped her face with her sleeves. Her skirt fell back into place and she smoothed it down with her hands while glancing at Mr. Sanders every few seconds. She looked up into his eyes, ran the few steps between them and buried her face in his shirt. Her arms wrapped tightly around him. “I love you,” she said.
He smiled and held her to him. His lips pressed against the top of her head. “I love you too.”
The sound of the back door to the house opening startled Stephanie out of the memory. She hadn’t thought much about the incident in years. Of course, at twelve she hadn’t really understood everything either. Things were different in the present. Stephanie began to understand she shared more in common with Aunt Vera than she’d ever realized. It was getting to be time to get things done.

The Pickett Family Holiday, Part 07

2011-12-13T07:00:00.000-08:00

Stephanie faced her father, hands nursing her well-spanked buttocks. Her eyes focused on the basket holding her clothing on top of the workbench just beyond her father. It would be so easy to take the few steps to the bench and get dressed. Her legs trembled with the desire to take those steps, but defying her father more than she already had seemed a bad idea. She forced her gaze from the basket to her father’s disappointed face and braced herself for another lecture.

Dad said, “Your mother has informed me she does not need your assistance in the kitchen today.”

“I can spend the day in my room,” Stephanie said. She doubted the suggestion would go anywhere, but there was no harm in offering it.

The hint of a smile slipped onto his lips before he could hide it within the mask of sternness he was trying to display. “I’m sure you’d like that,” he said, “but I have other plans for you.”

She dropped her gaze from his face and shrugged. Her bare toes came directly into her line of sight and then her exposed nipples and naked legs. A fresh pulse of embarrassment washed over her body, pumping more hot blood into her cheeks. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and concentrated on massaging the sting and fire out of her buttocks.

Dad made a show of looking at his wrist watch. “We’ve got about six hours before dinner will be on the table. I figure that’s plenty of time for you to rake up the leaves in the yard, shovel them into the green bin, clean out the empty wood stack on the porch, fill it up with the wood I cut this morning, and sweep off the porch when you’re done.”

Stephanie’s jaw dropped. Her eyes opened wide, staring into her father’s face, and fresh tears pooled just shy of spilling out onto her damp cheeks. “That’ll take all afternoon.”

Dad folded his arms across his chest and nodded.

“I’m naked,” she said.

He nodded.

She stomped her foot on the wood floor and immediately regretted the choice, feeling the sharp poke of a small grain of hard dirt into the bottom of her foot. “Someone might see me!”

He said, “Maybe you’ll remember this the next time you think about deliberately defying the rules around here.”

Her eyes narrowed and a hint of anger colored her cheeks. “I’m not going out there like this,” she said. “If you think I am, you’re fucking nuts.”

The sternness disappeared from his face and a large smile grew on his lips. He laughed. “I’m not a chipmunk.”

Stephanie blushed, realizing he was teasing her. “I’m not joking,” she said. A slight smile turned the corners of her lips upward as she shook her head at the ground and contained the laughter that might have otherwise slipped out. The situation was far from funny, her bottom still stung and undoubtedly glowed like a stoplight, but her father wasn’t angry and that was a good thing.

“Relax,” Dad said. “Todd’s bringing you one of your mother’s aprons from the kitchen and you can wear that while you’re doing your chores. As long as you do a good job and finish in the next six hours, you can get dressed for dinner.”

Stephanie parked her hands on her hips, momentarily forgetting her nudity. “And if I don’t?”

The sternness came back to his face. “Do a bad job or waste time and you’ll be getting another dose of my strap and standing in the corner while the rest of us eat. Is that understood?”

Stephanie looked up into his face. The smiles were gone on both of their faces. She nodded slowly, her narrow eyes conveying her dislike for his terms. “Yes,” she said.

“Good,” he said, nodding his head at her, “cause I’m not joking either.”

The sound of approaching footsteps pulled Stephanie’s attention away from her father. Awareness of her nudity returned and her hands moved from their place on her hips to snake across her body attempting to cover her crotch and breasts as best she could. She turned her back toward the door and looked over her shoulder, waiting with held breath to see the owner of the footsteps.

Todd entered the shed with apron in hand. His gaze immediately drifted toward Stephanie’s spanked buttocks. He whistled. “Those look hot enough to start a fire,” he said and shook the apron in the air for Stephanie and her father to see. “I think this thing might be flammable. We should probably wait a little bit before letting her put it on.”

Stephanie rolled her eyes. “It’s made for kitchen use.”

Todd’s eyebrows shot up. “So?”

“So,” she said, “it’s not flammable.”

“I’m not so sure,” Todd said. The grin on his face betrayed the seriousness his voice attempted to convey.

Stephanie reached out with her left hand, avoiding turning to expose any more of herself to his view than was necessary. “Give it to me.”

Todd unfolded the apron and hung it by the neck strap from his fingers just out of Stephanie’s reach. He studied the apron from the back, tilting his head from side to side and making humming sounds. “Well it is an open back design.”

She huffed and stomped a foot on the wood floor. “Give it to me.”

Todd looked to Charles. “It almost sounds like she’s asking for another spanking.”

Stephanie glanced at her father in time to see him nodding agreement. She shook her head and forgot about modesty. Her eyes sprang open wide and her hands shot to protect her butt. She pivoted away from facing the wall and walked backwards until the shed’s far wall kept her from getting any farther from the two men.

Dad said, “You would think a young lady in her position would remember her manners.”

Todd nodded and turned himself to look straight on at Stephanie. His eyes wandered over her naked front. He smiled making his enjoyment of the view obvious. “Now that’s an idea,” he said.

Stephanie blushed from head to toe. His teasing had been deliberate. She’d done exactly what he expected, given him the show he wanted. And apparently he wasn’t finished teasing. She moved her arms and hands back to cover her nakedness though she knew it was too little too late. “What?” she asked, not certain she wanted to know what else he was thinking.

Todd said, “I think if you want to wear this apron to do your chores, you should ask me politely.”

Stephanie glared at him. If there had been anything handy to throw, she would have thrown it.

Todd chuckled as if reading her thoughts. “If you’d rather do your chores in the buff, I don’t think anyone would stop you.”

Stephanie glanced at her father. His arms were folded across his chest again and he showed no signs of disagreeing with Todd. She looked outside the shed, reminding herself that the neighbors were not so far away. The distant murmur of voices from the neighborhood carried on the breeze. It irked her to let Todd win his childish game, but the consequences of losing were too humiliating for her to risk.

“May I please have the apron?” she asked.

Todd laughed and stepped closer to her with the apron held out in her direction. “Why yes, you may,” he said.

She took it without a word. The apron had the same autumn leaf design as she’d seen her mother and Amanda wearing in the kitchen, not the sort of thing she’d normally choose, but under the circumstances it was infinitely better than the alternative of nothing. It required less than a minute to don the flimsy garment. She tied the string in the back as tight as she could, doing her best to allow the backless garment to cover as much of her naked skin as possible. Still, she could feel the cool air caressing her bare back and buttocks, not to mention her legs and arms.

Her father took a wood handled rake with dark green tongs down from its place on the shed’s wall. He held it out to her. She stared at the handle, contemplating what she would like to do with the tool. Her father tapped the tongs on the floor. She pushed aside her inappropriate daydreams and took the rake from him. He stepped closer, laying his calloused hand on her shoulder and gently turning her toward the exit. They stepped outside together. She stopped walking only three feet outside of the shed and glared at the leaves on the ground as if they were to blame for all her troubles.

The swat of her father’s open palm against her tender, bare butt interrupted her moment of self-pity. She sprung into the air, dropping the rake and grabbing behind her to block any additional swats and massage away the new sting imparted by the single swat. “Ow!” she exclaimed and turned her head sharply toward her father.

Her father met her gaze with unwavering sternness and a wagging index finger. Any further protest she might have made slipped away into silence. She turned away, bit her lip and knelt down to retrieve the fallen rake. The swat had made her painfully aware of her rear exposure, but the way her butt pushed past the hemmed edges of the apron as she bent made it all the more pronounced in her mind. Her face flushed red.

“Don’t dally,” he said and walked away with Todd toward the house.

When they were out of earshot she turned her attention to the yard full of fallen leaves surrounding her. The sun shined bright, sitting near on straight overhead casting few shadows, but the way the light streamed through the barren branches it seemed to sparkle on the fluttering leaves. A gust rustled the leaves and sent them rolling across the grass while bringing a few new ones down from above.

“How the hell am I going to finish this in six hours?” she asked.

The Pickett Family Holiday, Part 06

2011-12-01T07:00:00.000-08:00

Via an upside down view through her parted legs, Stephanie watched her father take the strap off its hook on the wall behind her. He held it in his hands and stared at the dark leather with a frown. Stephanie caught a glint in his eye from the side and it pained her much in the same way the leather would soon pain her naked butt. The disappointment he felt burned into her shuddering chest. She closed her eyes.

Stood against the door frame, Todd asked, “What did she do this time?”

Dad turned his body to squarely face Stephanie’s bent form. “Would you like to explain why you’re getting a spanking?”

Stephanie glared through her legs at her father. Her face shined red from the embarrassment spinning around in her head. She knew the question was not actually a question at all, but rather an order for her to explain her position to Todd. Part of her knew the answer her father expected and yet the rest of her raged against it because the reason remained unreasonable in her mind.

Dad’s foot tapped on the creaky floorboard. He expected an answer and quickly. The strap bounced off his pant leg as if a warning of his intentions should she remain quiet much longer. Todd, for his part, waited in patient silence undoubtedly wondering which of the two Pickett family members was the more stubborn.

“I,” Stephanie said, her voice strained with the effort of speaking upside down, “dropped my bath towel on my bedroom floor while I got dressed this morning.”

Todd laughed.

Stephanie twisted her head to glare in his direction though all she could see of him was his lower half.

“Wow,” Todd said. He shook his head looking down at Stephanie. “You must really miss these little sessions out here in the shed while you’re away.”

Dad nodded agreement. “I’ve been thinking the very same thing.”

Todd kept his focus on Stephanie. “Are you behaving so badly out in California that the first thing you do when you get home is figure out the fastest way to get your butt tanned to appease the guilt?”

“It was a stupid mistake,” Stephanie said. She wasn’t sure if she was talking about the towel or the reason she knew she really did deserve to be butt up in the shed. The embarrassment coloring her cheeks began to mix with the red heat of anger. Most of it was beaming out of her eyes in Todd’s direction. It wasn’t fair, he had done nothing wrong, but blame can often be more about presence than culpability and Todd was present.

Dad said, “That much we can agree on.” The strap dangled beside his leg as he stepped into position and turned his back to Todd. He raised the limp leather into the air with a clear path leading downward and forward to Stephanie’s naked buttocks.

Her eyes locked on the strap while her father hesitated, most likely taking careful aim. A breeze outside the shed rustled the leaves on the lawn. She felt the skin on her legs and buttocks turn tight and dry in anticipation. Her lungs filled with air and she gripped the wood frame of the horse turning her knuckles white. She wished to close her eyes, but like passenger heading into a head-on collision her eyes opened wider.

Dad swung.

The unmistakable clap of leather impacting flesh echoed inside the shed, resonating in the wood flooring and the sawhorse. Stephanie blinked. The center of her butt exploded with a fierce sting and a simmering burn. Her legs pressed against the frame defying the instinct to kick wildly behind her. The strap returned to the height where she could easily keep her eyes focused on it.

He swung the strap again.

Stephanie’s head jerked upward an instant after the impact. Her wide eyes stared straight down at the floorboards while tears sprouted. The sting emanating from her butt grew stronger. Her hips pushed against the sawhorse. She kicked the air with her right leg. The burn grew warmer. Breath gushed from her lungs and she slipped tensely back into the proper position over the sawhorse. The strap dangled within her view once more.

Todd watched Stephanie squirming with a smile on his face. “I’m glad to see you getting your kicks while you’re home.”

Dad swung the strap.

Stephanie kicked both legs into the air. “Ow!”

Todd chuckled.

The sawhorse scraped against the wood planks of the floor as it slid an inch forward under her bucking. She gasped for breath. Tears spilled from the whites of her eyes running up the sides of her face into her hair. She clenched her hands into fists and closed her eyes while her body shuddered through the increasing sting and burn resulting from the strap’s repeated kisses. Just as she opened her eyes the strap connected again.

“Oh!” she cried.

Dad paused with the strap in the air, waiting for her wriggling body to fall still once more. “Are you going to break any more rules while you’re home?” he asked.

Stephanie remained quiet and focused on the pain throbbing outward from her naked posterior until she realized her father was actually expecting a response. Unfortunately, she couldn’t remember the question so she went with the safest response she knew. “Yes, sir.”

The strap sailed through the air, striking her buttocks with even greater intensity than before. She bucked against the sawhorse and kicked into the air with everything she had. More tears dripped up her face and into her hairline. Had it been possible, she might well have launched herself off the sawhorse and gone running for the nearest lake to cool her bottom.

Todd laughed. “Nicole is always saying how smart you are, I just didn’t realize she meant smart-mouthed.”

Dad nodded. “That she is, but I’ve found the cure though it’s often only temporary.”

“A smarting ass?” Todd asked.

Dad nodded. “Works every time.”

Stephanie’s cheeks blazed red listening to them talking about her. Her thoughts spun in a confused circle trying to understand how she’d gone wrong by agreeing with her father. What had he said? What had she agreed to? The only obvious answer was that she had agreed to the need for her sore bottom to be sorer.

The strap sliced through the air three times in such quick succession Stephanie could do little more than puff out air and tears between their respective impacts. She kicked her legs against the sawhorse’s legs and wiggled her butt in the air. The stinging and burning sensations refused to diminish. The muscles in her neck and shoulders went limp leaving her head to hang downward with her hair bouncing off the floor in tune with the crying that was wracking her body against the sawhorse.

“Still feel like breaking rules?” Dad asked.

Stephanie shook her head from side despite knowing her father couldn’t see her head. “No, sir,” she said and sniffled.

Todd said, “I imagine she feels like a silly little girl right now.”

Stephanie could think of no response to Todd’s statement that would be of any benefit. She focused instead on calming the flow of tears from her eyes and breathing through the intense discomfort the strap had caused her bottom. The strap remained just within in her sight and firmly gripped in her father’s hand. She doubted she had felt the last of its touch.

“Whose fault is it that you are getting spanked on your first day back home?” Dad asked.

Mom’s, Stephanie thought, but when she found the air to answer, she said, “Mine.”

Dad nodded and swung the strap with high velocity another three times in quick succession followed by a fourth that caught the lower curvature of her buttocks as she kicked both legs into the air. The sawhorse screeched forward again, scraping on the floor. He took a half step to his left to keep his distance constant from Stephanie’s blazing rear.

“Ow, ow, ow, OW!” she screamed in response to the flurry of spanks. Her chest heaved up and down as new sobs racked her body and the fiery sting of the strap shook her from head to toe. As her head relaxed back down, she looked up through her spread, trembling legs to see the dangling strap taunting her. The spanking wasn’t over.

Todd said, “I’m sure she’s ready to behave herself and do everything she’s told for the rest of the day.”

“Is Todd right?” Dad asked. “Are you going to be a model daughter for the remainder of the day?”

Stephanie let go of the sawhorse leg and wiped her face free of the affects of heavy crying long enough to give an answer. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Dad nodded. “Let’s just make sure that attitude sticks for the entire long weekend.”

He swung the strap and she kicked her legs high in the air.

“Stop making such a fuss,” Dad said. “You’ve got fifteen more coming, but every time your feet leave the floor, I’m going to add two more. Understood?”

Stephanie blinked at the floor as tears rolled out of her eyes. “But it hurts,” she said.

Todd laughed. “Your butt is supposed to hurt. It’s called a spanking.”

“Am I understood?” Dad asked, his tone clearly conveying his dislike for having to repeat himself.

“Yes, sir,” Stephanie said. She squeezed her legs tight against the wood legs of the sawhorse and took a tighter grip with her hands as well. Her eyelids clenched shut and she took in a deep breath. “Just make them quick, please,” she said.

He responded with three quick strikes against her buttocks.

Her butt bounced and grew redder by the strike, but her legs stayed down. “Ow, ow, ow!” she cried.

Todd said, “That was one, right?”

Stephanie’s eyes flew open wide. “Three,” she said as loud as she was able while still breathing heavily, “it was three, three, three.”

Todd laughed.

Dad said, “You had better stop yelling and show some respect before I decide it was just one.”

Stephanie fumed at the upside down world. Her butt burned, her cheeks burned from embarrassment and anger and all she wanted was for the entire event to be over and done. Teasing came with the territory of getting spanked, it was nothing new, but normally it didn’t start until the spanking was already finished.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

Dad nodded. “Better.”

Todd smiled and chuckled. “I guess it can be three then.”

Stephanie bit her tongue rather telling Todd where he could go and what he could do when he got there. The strap connected with her bottom another three times sending flames of near-electric sting throughout her body. She focused on keeping her toes on the ground and breathing, letting the tears flow freely from her eyes. Just as her body stopped shaking through the discomfort, her father laid on another three starting the process all over again, but still she kept her toes on the floorboards.

“Maybe you can follow instructions,” Dad said.

Todd chuckled. “It looks like you’ve gotten to the bottom of the problem.”

Stephanie shuddered as a goosebumps chill of shame shot through her body. The realization of how exposed she was to their eyes came as nothing new, but the embarrassing way they spoke about it as if she couldn’t even hear them made it all the worse. Her cheeks flushed hot with blood, her buttocks went taunt with shame, and her nipples hardened with the chill of exposure. She wished her father would simply get the spanking over with and yet she was not brave enough to ask for it.

Dad swung the strap fast for a full flurry of the final six. The noise of the contact echoed off the walls of the shed drowning out Stephanie’s cries until they faded into silence. Her legs stayed in place, her toes remained in contact with the wood floor and the sawhorse sat still and stable under her weight. She wanted nothing less than to jump to her feet, grab her burning butt and hop around in a circle, but she knew she had already pushed things too far with her father. Risking him adding a few more because she didn’t wait to be told it was over simply wasn’t worth the risk.

Dad said, “I hope you’ve learned your lesson.”

“Very instructive,” Todd said, “but perhaps I could try swinging the strap myself and you could give me some pointers on technique.”

Stephanie tried not to panic at the thought of Todd giving her a strapping on top of the one she had just received from her father. It was all a tease. It had to be. Her father wouldn’t let Todd punish her. That wouldn’t be fair. And besides, she’d learned her lesson and taken her punishment. It would probably be safest to assert the fact, she decided. “Yes, sir,” she said, “I learned my lesson.”

“Stand up,” Dad said.

She eased herself up, using her hands to push her torso upward until her feet were full on the ground and she could easily balance herself upright. Her hands flew instantly to her burning butt, cupping the hot globes in the palms of her hands. It was instinct more than helpful and if she’d thought about it, she might have better placed her hands to preserve some semblance of modesty in front of Todd. He remained to her left side, but there was little to interfere with his full view of her profile including a red buttock and naked breast.

“Now,” Dad said, “I’ve got some chores for you to do and if you do a good job and behave yourself while doing them, I might just let you get dressed again in time for dinner.”

Time for an Update

2011-11-29T07:00:00.000-08:00

I'm sorry for making you wait for part 6 of The Pickett Family Holiday. Unfortunately I suffered from technical problems over the weekend and I took some time to enjoy the Thanksgiving Holiday with family and friends prior to that. With a little luck, I'll have part 6 ready for posting tomorrow morning or Wednesday morning at the latest.

For those waiting on emails from me, I promise I'll get to those as well in the near future. And for those of you who are wondering; yes, The Jade Runner will be returning soon, as we can't just leave our heroes hanging from a cliff forever. Even their arms get tired sometimes. lol

The Pickett Family Holiday, Part 05

2011-11-25T07:00:00.000-08:00

Stephanie thought about calling out to her father and reminding him that she was ready and waiting for his parental attention, but it just seemed too unlikely that he had actually forgotten. Day turned to night and night turned to day and day turned to night again as she waited for eternity to pass. Of course, in reality day and night were really just the blinking of her eyes as she looked at her naked, upside down self and wished for the embarrassing situation to come to an end, even if that meant she’d have trouble sitting for the remainder of the day. She took slow deep breaths to keep herself calm and feigning patience while listening to the sound of her father continuing to chop wood.

In the aftermath of another split piece of wood, she heard the sounds of her father gathering the pieces, but more disturbingly she heard the sounds of approaching footsteps, crunching the dried leaves laying on the grass. It was the sound boots made, not the heels her sisters and mother would be wearing. The only question racing through Stephanie’s mind was whether it Todd or Jason. She felt her face explode with the hot rush of scarlet embarrassment knowing that one of the two men would now be a witness to her punishment. The footsteps drew closer until she was certain the owner had to be right outside the shed with a clear view of her and then they stopped.

“Charlie,” Todd said, “I thought I’d see if you needed a hand, but it looks like you’re about done.”

Stephanie twisted her head to get the best view she could out the shed’s open door, but all she could see of Todd was a sliver of black pant leg. She shuddered on the sawhorse making it rattle back and forth twice and squeak the floorboards beneath her. Her face flushed hotter and her nipples grew painfully stiff at the thought of Todd looking over her from his discreet distance. The grin on his face, likely only existing in her imagination, caused her to pray for a freak gust of wind to slam the door closed.

Dad laughed. “There’s more work to be done, but I’ve already got a volunteer. Besides, Victoria frowns upon me making our guests do hard labor.”

Todd chuckled. “She sure didn’t waste anytime putting Nicole to work in the kitchen.”

Stephanie imagined her Dad nodding and smiling. He said, “That’s different, Victoria doesn’t often care what makes me frown.”

Todd said, “We’re not really guests anyway and if you can’t take advantage of family, who can you?”

“Perfect strangers are my preference,” Dad said, “especially those who’ll give me money.”

“The business is going well then?” Todd asked.

Dad said, “Sold three rocking chairs and a porch swing just this last week.”

“Coffee?” Todd asked.

Stephanie imagined him holding out a steaming cup from the coffee house in the local shopping center. It was a rare day when Todd didn’t stop there for his morning cup of java.

Her father must have taken the cup. “Thanks,” he said. “I hardly ever get a cup of this good stuff. Victoria still thinks she makes the best coffee and I don’t have the heart to tell her the truth.”

Stephanie wished she had a way of recording her father. If nothing else it would have proved great for blackmailing her father into forgetting all about the spanking she was due. Unfortunately, it’s hard to hide a recorder, or anything else for that matter, when completely naked. The idea was silly anyways, her father probably didn’t care if her mother knew he didn’t like her coffee and her mother probably wouldn’t care either.

Todd said, “Actually, today’s the first time of been there since last week’s embarrassing incident.”

Stephanie imagined an eyebrow shooting up on her father’s face. She listened carefully, eager to hear someone else’s most embarrassing moment since she was living hers.

“What happened?” Dad asked. “Did you spill hot coffee all over that pretty girl behind the counter?”

Todd chuckled. “I wished. No, I stopped in like I usually do and ordered my normal. Celia had it all made up for me and when I got the counter I opened up my wallet to pay, only it was empty.”

Dad laughed. “I guess Nicole’s been rubbing off on you. She used to spend her allowance so fast, she’d swear I didn’t pay her some weeks.”

Todd said, “Well that was just it, I had stopped at the ATM just the night before and I hadn’t gone anywhere or bought anything until right then.”

“Someone picked your pocket?” Dad asked. “Did you call the cops?”

Todd chuckled. “I dug through my pockets and found enough change to pay Celia. She was so nice about it and even offered to let me just pay her the next day, but I don’t like doing things that way.”

Stephanie imagined her father nodding.

Dad said, “Right, I know how you feel.”

“So,” Todd said, “I went straight back home thinking the money might have slipped out on the floor or something. But then I get home and Nicole is coming back with a bag of donuts and coffee of her own. She looked shocked to see me which was no surprise since I should have been well on my way to work.”

Dad laughed. “I think I know where this is going.”

Stephanie imagined her father shaking his head from side to side.

“Todd said, “Then she asks me why I’m back and I tell her about my empty wallet. Her face goes from the palest white I think I’ve ever seen to full on red. Would you believe she just lifted the forty dollars out of my wallet?”

Stephanie nodded her upside down head remembering an incident from her teen years. Nicole had lifted some money from their mother’s purse which resulted in a room by room search the inevitably led to the money being found under a mattress. Of course, it wasn’t Nicole’s mattress, but the truth came out eventually although not in time to save the two innocent daughters from getting reddened bottoms. All that made it tolerable was getting to watch while Nicole got her own bottom reddened for the theft and then twice more to make up for her sisters getting it.

“Believe it or not,” Dad said, “it’s not the first time Nicole’s been caught doing something like that.”

Todd chuckled. “I imagine that’s why her cheeks went so red.”

“We don’t take kindly to stealing around here,” Dad said.

Stephanie rolled her eyes. Stealing, wet towels on the floor, messy rooms, bad grades, incomplete chores, coming home late, and so much more than she wanted to think about could be added to the list of things not taken kindly. She didn’t take kindly to being made to wait while everyone else was doing whatever they wanted to do. Now if only that meant as much as when her parents didn’t take kindly to something, then life would start to approximate something known as fair.

Todd said, “Well I supposed I could have taken a hard line with her over it, but she had asked me to get some money for her and I’d just forgotten. So, I guess you could say we were both at fault.”

Stephanie imagined her father shaking his head. He said, “Still, taking money out of your wallet without asking and not bothering to tell you she took all your money before you left the house was not acceptable behavior. I’d have made sure she knew it too.”

Todd chuckled. “I’m sure you would have. I’ve only used that paddle you gave me once and it’s my intention to save it for the big things, not minor mistakes and misunderstandings.”

Stephanie imagined her father putting his arm on Todd’s shoulders.

He said, “It’s your house and that means it’s your rules. Just remember that the more little things you let Nicole get away with, the more bigger things she’ll try to get away with. That’s just the nature of girls.”

Todd laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind. So, who is this volunteer you found? Surely not Amanda’s latest boyfriend?”

Dad clapped his hands together. “No, no, I don’t think he’s even here yet. Our volunteer is waiting inside the shed and if she’s finally figured out how to follow instructions she should be undressed and bent over the horse by now.”

Stephanie blushed even hotter though she was unsure how that was possible. The entire time of their conversation she felt certain they were each as aware of her as she was of them. Her whole body trembled with the shame of her position and her skin felt electrically charged in the cool damp air of the open shed. She wanted to close her eyes, but the prospect of being observed by Todd and her father while she was unaware kept them wide open. Even upside down she could see her body’s natural curves and all the wobbly bits betraying her by swaying in the open air and calling attention to themselves for any who might happen by to see.

Dad said, “Let’s go see if she’s ready for her spanking.”

The Pickett Family Holiday, Part 04

2011-11-24T07:00:00.000-08:00

The shed smelled of sawdust and old paint. Stephanie waited just inside the door taking a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim light from the single incandescent bulb mounted on the ceiling. Memories of previous visits played themselves out behind her eyes. The sawhorse stood in the center of the wood planked floor. Past it, up against the far wall, the workbench featured the familiar plastic basket where she could temporarily store her clothes without them collecting an abundance of dust and dirt. The small window above distorted the view to outside with year of collected dirt and smearing from improper cleaning.

She sidestepped past the sawhorse and stood in front of the workbench. The knots in her stomach tightened to the point of sending quivers throughout her body. Deep breaths did nothing to ease the tension and knowing exactly what to expect, even the knowledge that the pain and embarrassment would pass and fade, failed to make her task any easier.

Her fingers found the zipper on the back of her dress. She pulled it down and the dress went limp on her body, ready to fall to the floor with the simplest of moves. Her head twisted to look beyond her shoulder at the open shed door. There was no one watching, her father had returned to the business of chopping wood as if she were not there at all. Somehow his inattention served to enhance the disappointment she knew he felt. A tear spilled from her eye onto her cheek and she looked back to the wall and the window. Her dress slipped from her body and pooled on the floor at her feet.

The thin material of the dress offered little protection from the elements, but in its absence the air felt infinitely colder. Goosebumps sprouted over her pale flesh and a shiver ran down her spine causing her to wrap her arms across her chest. The dirty window offered a reflection that made her feel even more ridiculous. She breathed out and reached up behind her back, unfastening the strapless white bra covering her breasts. It fell easily away into her hands and she dropped it in the plastic basket without bothering to fold it. Her nipples, already hardened from the chill in the air, grew stiffer as the reflection in the window blushed in the embarrassment of exposure.

A noise behind Stephanie, made her jump and cover her breasts as best she could with her hands. It took a moment for realization to come, but the sound had only been the splitting of wood under the swing of her father’s axe. She shook her head at herself and the reflexive action. No matter how many times she found herself exposed for punishment in the presence of family, it still left her feeling ashamed and deeply embarrassed. Her cheeks grew redder at the mere sight of her father’s sleeve through the open shed door as he picked up the pieces of split wood on the ground outside.

Her head drooped downward. Only then did she notice her dress remained on the dirty floor and worse, her jumpiness had resulted in her standing on it. She stepped out and off of the dress. Her lips pursed as she knelt down and picked it up off the floor. She held it up in the dim light brushing dirt and splinters off the fabric with her hand. Satisfied, she folded it in neat thirds and laid it gently inside the basket.

Wearing only white panties and a pair of strappy heels, Stephanie leaned on the front edge of the workbench, staring at her face’s ghostly reflection in the window. Her mother had grossly overreacted to the towel thing. Nothing anyone could ever say would change Stephanie’s mind about it. Being punished over it should have felt oppressive and mean, but it didn’t. Partly, because her father wasn’t really punishing her over the towel but more over her attitude toward her mother and partly, because Stephanie knew she deserved punishment. Not for the towel, probably not even for her attitude, it was after all a response to her mother’s own attitude, but rather for a bad deed her parents knew nothing about and with luck, they never would.

She knelt down again, this time focused on her shoes. Her fingers found the zipper on the back of the heel and pulled it down, first on the left foot and then on the right. She stood back up and supported herself on the edge of the workbench bringing each leg up in turn to pull her shoes off and drop them in the basket. Standing barefoot on the wood floor she instantly rose up on her tiptoes to avoid the pressure of dirt and splinters against the bottom of her feet. She heard the sound of another piece of wood being split outside from the swing of her father’s axe and instantly covered her naked breasts again despite knowing he couldn’t see her any more than she could see him.

Stephanie turned her back to the door again, more for the sense of privacy it afforded than the actual existence of it. Her hands found their own way to the waistband of her panties. It was all she had left to do before bending herself over the sawhorse and waiting for her Dad to get around to spanking her bottom. She stared at her reflection and silently reminded herself that the longer she put off the inevitable the longer it would be before the spanking was over and she was dressed again. That wouldn’t have mattered on some days but with it being Thanksgiving there were guests coming and a good likelihood two of them, males no less, would be coming out to spend time with her father while the ladies prepared the evening meal. Stephanie preferred not to be naked when they arrived and even more than that, preferred her spanking to be long over as well.

Her hands trembled and she took a deep breath attempting to steady her nerves. Spanking always hurt. There would be tears and she would feel the sting long after the spanking came to an end. Throughout the entire day, she would be reminded with every step she took, every time the tight fabric of her dress rubbed against her bottom she would have to suppress a wince and every time she sat she would have to smile pretending the urge to express her discomfort in the form of a single word or whimper never existed. The only comfort came from knowing her spanking was the only punishment due for the day. At least it would be over when the last spank fell. She would not spend the remainder of her day doing mindless chores with the proof of her bad girl status nakedly displayed for all to see as poor Amanda had spent the previous day. It was a small thing to be thankful for, but Stephanie was thankful for it. She pushed her panties down her legs and stepped out of them, dropping them in the basket to wait for her return.

Stephanie looked over her shoulder once more and watched her father’s sleeve until it disappeared from sight after he finished collecting more split pieces of wood from the ground. She turned fully and walked on her tiptoes to the other side of the sawhorse. Her father would expect her naked butt to be visible from the door and she had no intention of disappointing him in that manner. She had done so once in her high school years and it had served as one of her more embarrassing moments when he had made her rise up and bend over it the right way under his watchful eye. It was much better to do it right in the first place.

She stepped up to the sawhorse and rested her hands on the top edge that would soon have her butt bulging out toward the ceiling. Her feet moved to the outside edges of the sawhorse’s feet and she bent down slowly adjusting her weight on the sawhorse until the top edge was tight against her pelvis and her hands were gripping the opposite side of the legs from where her feet rested on tiptoes. She looked behind her through the open underneath of the sawhorse and between her spread legs at the wall behind her. Three implements hung on hooks in perfect upside down view from her position. She wondered which her father would choose or if he’d use more than one of them as he had on certain past occasions when she’d been particularly difficult. The thick old yardstick was the mildest while she feared the worn and wide leather strap the most, but it was the oak paddle with five holes in the middle of it that had seen the most use.

Stephanie tried not to think about the implements too much though it was difficult to ignore their presence in plain sight unless she closed her eyes. The unfortunate side effect of turning her attention from the implements was that it left only two other focuses for her attention. Either she thought about her position, the embarrassing exposure of her butt and more to anyone who would stand in the doorway, the way her breasts hung down toward her face swaying with every breath she took, or she thought about the reason she was there. As time stretched past with only the sound of her father splitting wood to mark its passage, she thought about all three things until her whole body was flushed pink with the embarrassment of the situation.

The Pickett Family Holiday, Part 03

2011-11-23T07:00:00.000-08:00

Stephanie left the house through the back door. She had stayed in her room dreading the trip to see her father so long that morning was giving way to afternoon. The air remained cool despite the brilliantly blue sky over head and the bright sun shining down. Pink, peach and golden brown leaves rustled on the grass of the backyard in the light breeze as she walked along the stepping stone path leading from the porch to the shed.

The shed stood at the edge of the property line on the northwest side of the house. Her father had built it shortly after they had moved into the house to store tools, a workbench, and firewood. Stephanie remembered it well though she’d only been about five at the time. In those days, she’d always been eager to lend her father a helping hand. She almost smiled at the memory, particularly at the realization her help had probably made the project take twice as long as it should have. She had insisted that the shed needed to be painted in bright red with white trim just like a traditional barn and rather than argue, her father had bought the paint and handed her a brush. It hadn’t been painted in all the years since, but the colors were still there, just faded.

Dad stood outside the shed, swinging his old axe, splitting wood for the fireplace. Seeing her approach, he rested the axe against the side of the shed and picked up the wood on the ground, adding to the neat stack he’d built adjacent to the shed. Finished, he pulled off the worn leather gloves from his hands and wiped the sweat off his forehead with sleeve of his brown, black and cream flannel shirt.

“It seems you’ve managed to upset your mother,” he said, turning to give Stephanie his full attention, “again.”

Stephanie’s lips curled upward in a half smile. “What can I say?” she said with a shrug. “I’m just a bee in her bonnet.”

Dad said, “Your sister warned you about the towel.”

“I know,” Stephanie said, nodding her head.

“And yet you dropped it on the floor anyway,” he said, shaking his head.

“I didn’t think Mom would come barging into my room,” Stephanie said.

“Is that what they teach in your criminology classes?” Dad asked. “It’s okay to break the law just as long as you don’t get caught?”

“I didn’t break a law.” Stephanie kicked at the leaves on the ground. “I just broke one of Mom’s stupid rules.”

“That attitude isn’t doing you any favors,” Dad said.

Stephanie stopped kicking and looked up into her father’s face. “Sorry.”

“Laws and rules aren’t so different,” he said. “If you break them there are consequences and it doesn’t really matter whether you agree with them or not.”

She rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t even on the floor fifteen minutes.”

“It shouldn’t have been on the floor at all,” he said.

“What was I supposed to do with it?” she asked. “It’s not like I’ve got a towel bar in my bedroom.”

“There is one in the bathroom last time I checked,” he said.

She shook her head and shrugged. “So now I’m supposed to walk back to my room naked after a shower.”

“Have you ever heard of a bathrobe?” he asked.

“I left it at school. It’s too bulky to take back and forth,” Stephanie said.

Dad shook his head. “Sounds like you’ve got an answer for everything except why you can’t just follow a few simple rules while you’re at home.”

Stephanie said, “I didn’t go on a crime spree, I dropped a wet towel on the floor while I was getting dressed.”

“Exactly,” Dad said, “you did the one thing you knew would irritate your mother more than anything else if she found out. Your only excuse seems to be that you thought she’d never know.”

“It’s a stupid rule,” Stephanie said. “What was I supposed to do?”

“Let’s see,” Dad said, holding his chin in his hand, “you could have draped the towel over the foot board on your bed or over the back of your desk chair, you could have folded it up and laid it on top of your clothes hamper. Heck, you could have used one of the empty hangers in your closet to hang it up or hang it on your doorknob. Any one of those solutions would have avoided breaking your mother’s rule and kept you out of trouble.”

“I’ll remember that for tomorrow,” Stephanie said, shaking her head at the sky.

Dad took a step closer to his daughter. “What’s going on with you?”

Stephanie rolled her eyes. “Other than being home less than 24 hours and about to get a spanking, nothing.”

“That’s just it,” Dad said. “Every time you’ve come home from school in the last year, you’ve managed to find some way to get yourself a spanking within three days at the most. It’s almost like you’re bending over backward to give us a reason.”

Stephanie blushed and kicked at the leaves again. “Trust me,” she said, “I’m not.”

“I’m just trying to understand,” Dad said. “You were warned, you knew Amanda had just gotten in trouble over the very same thing yesterday, and yet this morning your very first impulse is to drop your wet towel on your bedroom floor.”

Stephanie shrugged. “I made a mistake.”

“And it was either deliberate or careless,” Dad said. “You’re a lot of things Stephanie, but careless is not a word I usually associate with you.”

“I’m not denying that I did it,” Stephanie said.

Dad said, “I want to know why you did it.”

Stephanie tilted her head back to stare at the sky before looking into her father’s face. “Because it’s a stupid rule. Because I thought I could get a little bit of revenge on Mom for always making such a big deal out of nothing and she would never even know about it. It would have been perfect too, except Mom can’t mind her own business and had to come barging into my bedroom.”

Dad said, “I know you and your mother have your differences, but you sound downright angry with her. Why?”

Stephanie shook her head at the sky. “Why shouldn’t I be? She’s grounded me for the whole first week of my winter break and as if that wasn’t enough she’s sent me out here to get a spanking today, on Thanksgiving no less and all of this over a stupid wet towel that didn’t harm anything or anyone.”

Dad said, “That’s the consequences of breaking your mother’s rule, but you were obviously angry with her before any of that. You said you did it to get revenge. Revenge for what?”

Stephanie sighed. “I already told you. Can we just get this over with? I’d really prefer it if things could be more or less back to normal by the time Nicole and Todd arrive not to mention this Jason.”

Dad said, “I’m sure you would and if you tell me the reason your so angry with your mother, I’ll do what I can to make your preference a reality. However, if you’d rather keep that information to yourself, I see no reason why I should do you any favors.”

“Why isn’t the fact that it’s a stupid, anal retentive rule enough of a reason to be mad?” Stephanie asked.

“Maybe because it’s been a rule for as long as you’ve been taking showers and for you all of the sudden to get brazenly angry over it smells more like an excuse than reality,” Dad said.

Stephanie said, “I’m mad because the only person Mom shows any respect to is herself. It’s like none of the rest of us matter. Everything is always her way or no way and I’m sick of it. You want to pin it on one specific thing but you can’t. It’s my whole life and she’s always the thundercloud hanging over my head and ruining every fucking day.”

Dad’s hand sailed through the air between them impacting her cheek like thunder. “I don’t care how angry you are, you don’t ever use language like that to me or your mother.” He wagged his finger in front of her bulging eyes even as the white of her cheek turned red with his hand print. “Do you understand me?”

Her hand grasped at her stinging cheek and tears watered her eyes as she took a step back from her father. “I’m sorry.”

He said, “You want respect? You have to earn it and that means working hard and following rules, even the rules you don’t like or don’t agree with. If you think disciplining you and your sisters when you fall short of expectations is disrespecting you then you better be just as angry at me as you are at your mother. This our home and you’re our daughter and that means we’re going to raise you the way we think is best and if you don’t like our methods, you’re certainly old enough to take on the world without our help.”

Stephanie wiped the tears from her eyes before they had a chance to fall. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s like this Stephanie,” Dad said, “your mother sent you out here to be punished. You’ve admitted to deliberately throwing your towel on the floor despite knowing the consequences if you got caught. You clearly think it’s unfair that you got caught and somewhere in your head you’ve developed a twisted strand of logic that has convinced you that this act of rebellion was justified. Whatever it is that is truly bothering you is either as much a mystery to you as it is to me or you just don’t want to share it with me. Either way, I think we’ve wasted enough time talking because we’re clearly getting nowhere. So you’ve got a choice, you can go on into the shed, undress and bend over the sawhorse for your spanking or you can go back to the house and find a friend or a hotel room to take you in until you go back to school.”

Stephanie looked at her father. Nothing was going the way she had expected and instead of making things better she had only achieved upsetting her father which was the last thing she wanted. It wasn’t the first time she’d pushed him into offering her a way out that meant leaving home and just like before it was a choice she was not prepared to make. She lowered her gaze to the leaves on the ground and took the first step toward the shed. The rest came of habit and much more easily than the first until it seemed she had made her choice without a word and only the slightest of hesitation.

The Pickett Family Holiday, Part 02

2011-11-22T07:00:00.000-08:00

Stephanie exited the upstairs bathroom wrapped in a mocha colored towel. She entered her bedroom a few steps away, closed the door and tossed the towel to the floor with a giggle. Inside her closet she perused the clothes she’d left behind when she left for school at the end of the summer. It felt like a blue jeans and brown sweater day so she tossed the items to her bed and donned the plain white undergarments she reserved for her time at home.

A soft knock on the door proceeded the opening and closing of the door as her little sister entered without waiting for permission. Amanda plopped herself down on the bed next to Stephanie’s outfit and stretched. Her eyes were still half closed and her teeth chattered with the cold of the morning air despite the thick red robe and puppy slippers on her feet.

“One night down, three to go,” Amanda said.

Stephanie raised an eyebrow and joined her sister on the bed. “And a good morning to you too.”

Amanda lifted the waist of her sister’s jeans off the bed. “It’s not like you weren’t thinking it at some point already this morning.”

“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Stephanie said, “sometimes it’s better not to say what you’re thinking.”

“It’s just us,” Amanda said.

Stephanie looked at the door leading to the hallway. “The walls are thin and Mom’s hearing hasn’t faded yet.”

“Right,” Amanda said. “So, how is California? Are you still hanging with that surfer hunk? What was his name?”

“He was a lifeguard,” Stephanie said, looking away from her sister.

“Whatever.” Amanda waved her hand in the air.

Stephanie looked at her dresser. The picture frame laid on its face from where she’d slapped it down the night before. She didn’t want to look at him. She didn’t want to talk about him. “We broke up.”

Amanda rested a supportive hand on her sister’s shoulder. “He dumped you?”

Stephanie nodded.

“Stupid bastard,” Amanda said. “You’re better off without him. You’ll do far better than some beach bum, I promise.”

Stephanie grabbed her jeans and started pulling them up. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

“The prick may as well be dead,” Amanda said, running a virtual zipper over her lips with her right hand. “I’ll never speak of him again.”

Stephanie hopped to her feet pulling the jeans the final inches over her hips. “What about you? Meet any cute boys at college this year?”

Amanda laughed. “Boys are always cute, but I found myself a real man.”

Stephanie paused from fastening her jeans to cock an eyebrow at her sister. “Please tell me he’s not a professor.”

Amanda pressed both hands to her chest and blinked pretend offense at the mere suggestion. “I would never even think about calling a professor a real man.”

“That’s good,” Stephanie said, “cause I’m pretty sure if Dad caught you kissing a professor someone would get shot.”

Amanda laughed. “And I wouldn’t be able to sit down ever again.”

Stephanie laughed and nodded her agreement. “Speaking of,” she said, “it sure looked like you got a hefty dose of the strap yesterday.”

Amanda nodded and let out a low whistle. “Stung like hell yesterday, but it’s fine this morning, I think.” She stood up, turned her back to Stephanie and lifted her robe to give a clear view of her buttocks. “Tell me it’s not still fire engine red?”

Stephanie looked and smiled. “Wow!” she said. “I think I can see steam coming off that ass.”

Amanda rolled her eyes. “Very funny. I’m serious. He is coming over for Thanksgiving today and I was going to wear a skirt, but not if there is any chance he might see something.”

Stephanie laughed. “Does he usually peek up your skirt?”

Amanda dropped her robed back into place and blinked innocence betrayed by the pink coloring of her cheeks. “I’m sure he’d never do anything of the sort,” she said and then in a quieter voice, “unless I wanted him to.”

Stephanie smiled and shook her head. “Well you’re safe enough, the red is all gone, but it won’t stay that way if Mom or Dad catches you letting this guy take a peek.”

Amanda nodded. “I’ll be very, very careful.”

Stephanie grabbed her sweater and pulled it on. “That’s always the plan isn’t it?”

Amanda laughed, walking toward the door. She paused and looked at the jeans on Stephanie. “You know if you wear those jeans, Mom will send you up here to change before dinner and give you the lecture about creating extra laundry for her.”

Stephanie rolled her eyes. “She’s on that kick again?”

Amanda nodded. “A lady should dress like a lady and look like a lady.”

They laughed together and spoke in unison. “I’m no lady.”

The door sprung open forcing Amanda to take a surprised step backward. Their Mom entered the room wrapped in her own warm robe. Thick curlers bulged from her head, a look that always made Stephanie smirk while thinking they made her Mom look uncannily like the mythological Medusa. The stern eyes did nothing to mitigate the appearance.

Mom said, “Listening to the two of you cackling I’m hard pressed to disagree with you, but as long as you’re under my roof you’ll dress and behave like ladies or suffer the consequences. Is that understood?”

Stephanie and Amanda stood straight, pulled their shoulders back and pursed their lips. “Yes, Mom,” they said in unison.

Mom nodded taking another step into the room. “You,” she pointed at Stephanie, “will change out of those clothes and put on an appropriate Autumn dress before you leave this room.” Mom turned her head to Amanda. “And you will take a reasonable length shower and don a similar dress before you come downstairs. If either of you have a problem with that you can come downstairs in your birthday suit. Is that understood?”

Stephanie and Amanda nodded. “Yes, Mom.”

“Good,” Mom said and took a half step forward, stopping abruptly. She looked down at her feet where Stephanie’s towel laid bunched on the floor. “What is this?”

Amanda inhaled sharply.

Stephanie said, “My bath towel.”

Mom looked at Amanda. “Didn’t we just deal with this same thing yesterday?”

Amanda nodded, not daring to speak.

“I was going to pick it up,” Stephanie said.

Mom turned back to Stephanie. “It should never have gone on the floor in the first place.”

Stephanie nodded. “I know.”

“How many times have we talked about this?” Mom asked.

Stephanie swallowed cold air. “Too many to count.”

Mom shook her head. “At least we can agree on that. What did I tell you would happen the last time we discussed this?”

Stephanie nibbled on her lower lip for a long moment before shrugging. “I don’t know.”

Mom’s expression lacked any hint of amusement. “I suggest you think real hard before I decide to double it.”

Stephanie looked at her bare feet and felt her cheeks blushing hot over the memory of her Mom’s threat. “You said I’d be grounded for a week in my birthday suit and have to do lots of extra chores every day.”

Mom placed her hands on her hips and said, “You’re trying my patience young lady.”

Stephanie sighed and finished spelling out the last part of the punishment her Mom had promised. “You also said I’d get three spankings a day for the whole week. One in the morning, one in the afternoon and one before bed.”

Mom nodded. “And with all that, you still left your towel on the floor. Was this a test to see if I’d follow through or did you just think you could get away with it behind a closed bedroom door?”

Stephanie stared at her toes.

“I expect an answer when I ask a question young lady,” Mom said.

Stephanie mumbled in the direction of her bare toes. “I thought I could get away with it.”

Mom shook her head. “As it’s Thanksgiving and you aren’t going to be home a full week, I’m going to be nice and postpone that punishment until you come back for winter break next month.”

Stephanie blinked at her toes. It was a rare occasion when her Mom gave a reprieve, even a temporary one. “Thank you, Mom.”

Mom said, “However, I will not tolerate this willful insolence. Therefore, you will pick up this towel and hang it up proper in the bathroom where it belongs, after which you will get properly dressed for the day and then you will go and find your father and ask him to give you the spanking you deserve for deliberately challenging my authority in this house. Is that understood?”

Stephanie nodded. “Yes, Mom.”

Stephanie carefully navigated her way down the stairs in two inch strappy heels. She wore the only autumn colored dress in her closet that fit; an off the shoulder form hugger in copper brown. The style felt a little off for a family holiday, but it left no doubt about her femininity and Stephanie did not mind the subtle reinforcement of bold playfulness it gave to her personality. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked around the open living room and nearby dining room.

The rooms were immaculate as usual and the furniture, country style with an abundance of pillows and patterned fabric depicting an old saw mill, still made her wonder how she could possibly share any genes with her mother. No one was in sight between the two rooms, but she could hear ample noise coming from behind the swinging door leading into the kitchen. As she walked toward the door she could not decide if she hoped to find her father in the kitchen or absent from it.

She stopped just inside the kitchen. Her mother was busy with the turkey at the kitchen sink and Amanda sat at the kitchen table mixing up stuffing in a giant blue bowl. They wore matching aprons depicting fall leaves. The image conjured happy memories from younger years when she wasn’t in trouble and could enjoy the simple pleasure of jumping in the piles of freshly raked leaves with her sisters while their father looked on laughing. It was hard not to notice the extra two matching aprons hanging from the hook on the end of the cabinets across from her. If not for her stupid impulse to drop the bath towel on the floor, she’d be putting on one of those aprons instead of searching for her father.

Mom turned from the sink and shut the water off, fixing her attention solidly on Stephanie. Her eyes scanned up and down taking in the outfit Stephanie wore and the cold expression on her face suggested she was not entirely pleased. “Look who finally decided to come downstairs.”

Amanda glanced between Mom and her sister before deciding she was better off to focus on her task. She stirred a little more vigorously and did her best to disappear into the background. The expression on her pale face suggested she felt more than a little responsible for Stephanie’s troubles.

Stephanie nodded. There was no denying she had taken her time getting changed and silently cursing herself for tossing the towel on the floor in her bedroom. She had convinced herself on the plane ride home that this trip would be different. It took all of a night and a morning shower to prove herself wrong. Maybe the beach bum was right. Maybe she wasn’t happy unless she was making trouble.

“I didn’t realize I was being timed,” Stephanie said.

Mom laughed, drying her hands on a dish towel. “Take all the time you want. In a couple more hours, Todd and Jason should be here and I’m sure neither of them will object to a front row seat for the spanking you got coming.”

Stephanie looked quizzically at Mom. “Who is Jason?”

Amanda looked up and then turned her attention back to the stuffing. Speaking more to the bowl than her sister, she said, “My boyfriend.”

Mom took a step closer to Stephanie. She looked over her daughter’s outfit, shaking her head with obvious disapproval. “That’s not exactly what I had in mind when I told you to put a dress on.”

Stephanie took a deep breath before replying. “Most of my more appropriate clothes are at school Mom. I didn’t realize this was going to be a formal Thanksgiving or I’d have brought a dress for today.”

Mom said, “As usual you listen to nothing I tell you.”

Stephanie’s eyes shot open wide and she momentarily forgot she was already in trouble. “You didn’t tell me anything about your plans for today!”

Mom blinked one time very slowly with obvious annoyance washing over her face. “I’m not talking about just today. I’ve told you for as long as I can remember that when you pack to go somewhere you pack for every possibility.”

Stephanie stretched her fingers out at her sides trying to ease the tension threatening to make her dig a deeper hole for herself. “Oh,” she said.

Mom rolled her eyes in disgust. “And you better get that attitude of yours under control soon or I’ve got a bar of soap under this sink that will do it for you. Is that understood?”

Stephanie nodded once. “Yes, Mom.”

“It better be,” Mom said. She pointed toward the back door just past where Amanda was sitting. “Your father is waiting for you at the shed.”

The Pickett Family Holiday, Part 01

2011-11-21T07:00:00.000-08:00

In the midst of a slow moving crowd of travelers, Stephanie Pickett stepped onto the escalator. As the metal steps moved her closer to the ground floor her eyes scanned the waiting crowd of greeters below, hoping to catch a glimpse of her father. With her visit only being four days long, she knew the ride home would likely be the highlight of her trip. She looked forward to seeing her sisters, Nicole and Amanda, but dealing with their mother after three months away left a pit of apprehension growing in Stephanie’s stomach. Halfway to the bottom, Stephanie spotted her older sister, Nicole and Nicole’s husband Todd, waiting toward the back of the crowd. Her father was notably missing and his absence left two conflicting worries rolling through Stephanie’s thoughts; What happened? Did he know what she had done?

Todd and Nicole waved as Stephanie reached the bottom of the escalator. They met halfway into the midst of the crowd and Todd immediately took control of Stephanie’s single roller bag. He paused briefly, pressing his cheek against hers before turning and attempting to navigate the way out. Nicole gave less attention to the crowd than her husband and wrapped her arms around Stephanie, capturing her in a warm hug and planting a kiss on her cheek. Stephanie returned the hug without the kiss as fellow travelers and their greeters pushed past them like they were an annoying pebble splitting the natural flow of a stream.

Stephanie pulled back from the embrace and asked, “Where’s Dad?”

Nicole smiled and glanced at her watch. “I would imagine he’s either out at the shed oiling up the strap or heading there to do it.”

Stephanie’s face blanched. Nicole laughed.

Todd stopped his forward momentum and turned toward the sisters. “Are you two coming or do you like standing in every one’s way?”

Stephanie’s heart started pumping again at the glint of mischievous in her sister’s eyes. She shook her head, bouncing her neat ponytail from shoulder to shoulder and doing her best to laugh at herself so that Nicole wouldn’t think too hard on the worry that had crossed her face. Stephanie started walking toward Todd and Nicole kept pace beside her, still smiling.

“Nice one,” Stephanie said, placing her hand on the back of Nicole’s neck and squeezing with mock anger.

Nicole laughed a little harder, dipping her head forward and ducking away from Stephanie’s hold. “Actually, I was serious.”

Stephanie faked calmness and said, “Oh really? Is somebody in trouble?”

Todd nodded as they joined him. “You could definitely say that.”

Looking at Stephanie, Nicole said, “In fact, I think it’s safe to say you know more about this trouble than anyone.”

Stephanie’s hands grew clammy. She took all the precautions she could imagine. The evidence would have only been visible with the most scrutinous of examinations. She sighed. No matter what she did, no matter how hard she tried to hide it, they always found out the things she didn’t want them to know. Even in the worst case scenario though, she just hadn’t thought they could figure it out until after the semester was over. She should have been safe for Thanksgiving, but whatever mistake she had made to give herself away, there would be plenty of time to think about it while she was recovering from the strap, bare bottom in a corner. This was definitely not the holiday at home she’d been expecting.

Todd said, “I thought your mom was going to blow a gasket when she found it. She came running down the stairs like a rhino on a rampage and with a face as red as a fire engine. I swear I could see the steam pouring out of her ears.”

Stephanie took short quick breaths to steady the butterflies swarming in her stomach. She nodded her head and kept her gaze focused on the floor as they continued walking toward the parking garage. It sounded about right for Mom’s reaction, but the reaction she really wanted to know about was her father’s. The image of his face floated behind her eyes and it wasn’t anger he was conveying with his eyes, it was disappointment and so much of it as to make her wish for an early grave.

Nicole said, “I know it’s probably not what you wanted to come home to, but before you even think of asking, we don’t have any room at our place.”

Todd chuckled agreement. “That’s right, one naughty Pickett girl is more than enough for any man.”

“Hey!” Nicole said and slapped his upper arm. “I haven’t had a spanking in almost two years.”

“That doesn’t mean you aren’t naughty,” Todd said smiling at his wife, “and I seem to recall—

Nicole started to blush and slapped his arm again, a little harder. “That doesn’t count and we’re not talking about it in front of my little sister.”

Todd face turned a little more serious. “Hit me again and I’ll give your little sister a demonstration in the parking lot. And it will count.”

Nicole laughed, still blushing. “Stephanie is very familiar with spankings, but if you want to give her one in the parking lot, I won’t stop you.”

The laughter and casual teasing pushed Stephanie to the point she no longer cared if she made things worse. Enough was enough. “A spanking with Dad’s strap is no laughing matter,” she said and looked straight at her sister. “You know that just as well as I do and I don’t think it’s been so long you should be acting like you don’t remember.”

Nicole stopped laughing and nodded her head. “You’re right,” she said. “It’s just Amanda has always gotten away with way more than either of us and I was enjoying her finally getting some just desserts. Probably a little too much.”

Stephanie turned away from her sister and blinked at the concrete under her feet. Dad oiling the strap, Mom raging down the stairs, it was all about Amanda? That meant they didn’t know. The butterflies started to settle down in her stomach. She was safe. It might even be a nice quiet holiday at home. The kind of trip she had hoped for and needed after how wrong things had been going at school. She raised her head and looked at Nicole again. “What did she do to make Mom that mad?”

Todd chuckled.

Nicole said, “I thought you would have guessed by now.”

Stephanie raised a quizzical eyebrow.

“She left a wet bath towel on her bedroom floor for half the day,” Nicole said.

Stephanie nodded her head with new understanding. The bath towel thing was one of Mom’s crazy rules. Stephanie had a long standing habit of ignoring Mom’s crazy rules. Most of the time she got away with it too because Mom often never found out. That’s part of why Stephanie considered the rules crazy; If Mom didn’t directly witness it being broken, she would never know if it had or hadn’t been. Obviously, Stephanie didn’t always get away with it though and the bath towel issue had landed her in more hot water over the years than a cupboard full of bath towels could absorb.

“Dad agreed to the strap over that?” Stephanie asked. It didn’t seem like him to be so harsh over something so stupid.

Nicole shook her head. “Apparently Amanda has been taking lessons from you, only she must have been taking it farther.”

“You mean she’s been doing this a lot since I went back to school?” Stephanie asked.

Todd chuckled. “You could say that. It’s the first she’d been caught, but when your Mom picked up the towel she found a big spot of black mold on the carpet.”

Stephanie shrugged. “So, maybe the towel was molding.”

Nicole nearly choked on her tongue from laughing. “That’s exactly what Amanda said. I swear sometimes the two of you share a brain.”

“I guess Dad wasn’t happy then,” Stephanie said. He was normally the voice of reason when Mom’s crazy rules got broken.

“You could say that,” Nicole said. “Mom finally got the last word on changing out the carpet in the house and now she has proof that’s she’s been right about the towel’s on the floor being a mold hazard. Dad is probably hoping he goes deaf soon cause you know Mom is going to be gloating about this for the next twenty years.”

Todd glanced over his shoulder as he led them through the parking lot. “Just a word to the wise, Steph, you probably don’t want to tempt fate with your own bath towel anytime in the next decade.”

Nicole nodded. “Dad sure won’t be backing you up or going easy anytime soon.”

“So he really took her out to the shed and strapped her?” Stephanie asked. Amanda could probably count on her fingers the number of times she’d been sent to the shed in her 19 years of life. On the other hand, Stephanie had lost count at how many times she’d gone in just the last two years. For some reason Stephanie couldn’t quite explain, being away at college seemed to have her landing in more trouble at home than when she had lived with her parents full time.

“Actually,” Nicole said, “He strapped her right in the living room cause Mom wanted to watch to make sure Dad did a thorough enough job.”

Todd whistled. “The fire in the fireplace had nothing on your poor sister’s posterior.”

“You saw?” Stephanie asked. Getting spanked around family was bad enough, but knowing that extended family like Todd, or worse, friends and or neighbors who happened by, would see and hear the spanking was the sort of thing to leave Stephanie blushing scarlet for days and sometimes weeks after the incident. There was nothing like that knowing twinkle in some one’s eye to make her feel all of two years old and stark naked despite being modestly dressed and a grown woman.

Todd shook his head. “Sadly I missed the main event. Your Mom’s got her cleaning all the floors in the house with a toothbrush while keeping her bare bottom visible to anyone who looks.”

Nicole shook her finger at Todd. “You shouldn’t be looking. She’s my baby sister.”

Todd shook his head with a grin on his face. “Guess what? You married a guy and if a 19 year old cutie is going to walk around bare butt, a guy is going to look. Even if it is your sister.”

They reached the car and Todd opened the trunk, tossing Stephanie’s roller bag inside. He opened the doors on the passenger side one at time, seating Stephanie in the back and Nicole in the front and closing their doors for them. He sat in the driver’s seat, turned on the ignition and fastened his seat belt in place while Nicole and Stephanie did the same.

Stephanie asked, “So is she grounded?”

Nicole turned around to look at Stephanie. “Nope. Mom thought that would be too mean since she’s got her new boyfriend coming over tomorrow. It would be pretty awkward having to explain why Amanda was bare butt in the corner while the rest of us were enjoying dinner.”

Stephanie shook her head. “Mom’s gone soft.”

Todd chuckled. Nicole laughed.

“I doubt you’ll be saying that if you step out of line while your back,” Nicole said.

Stephanie rolled her eyes and nodded agreement. “Fortunately, I’m only back for four days. I have to be back at school on Monday.”

Todd said, “And then you’ll be back in another three weeks for about six weeks if I recall correctly. Sounds like plenty of time to get yourself in trouble or to continue any punishment you earn in the next few days.”

Nicole nodded. “And Todd will be sure to look if you do.”

Stephanie laughed. “I’m sure he would like to, but I’m not planning on giving him the chance.”

The Jade Runner, Part 24

2011-11-14T07:00:00.000-08:00

Quinn released his hold on Tara. She pushed herself up until she could wrap her arms around his neck. She buried her face into his shoulder and the tears on her cheeks soaked into the cloth of his shirt.

“I’m so sorry,” she said.

He wrapped his arms around her back and squeezed her shaking, naked body to him. His fingers found their way up her back and into her hair. “I know,” he said. Her eyes sparkled beneath him and his lips quivered anticipating the kiss demanded by the intimacy of the moment.

A clanking on the bars of their cell interrupted the tenderness leaving an unfulfilled void of tension in its wake. Together they twisted toward the source of the interruption and boiled with a mix of embarrassment and anger upon seeing Rex. His face openly displayed the pride he felt in himself and the amusement their predicament provided him.

“How touching,” Rex said, punctuating his words with a chortle.

Quinn stood placing his body in the path of Rex’s view of Tara. She rose to her feet and pressed her body to Quinn’s back, gazing over his shoulder at Rex with a disgusted frown on her lips.

“What do you want?” Quinn asked.

Rex grinned and tipped his hat away from his forehead. “Kit has a stash of money aboard. Tell me where it is.”

“What have you done to her?” Tara demanded.

“Nothing at all,” Rex said, “but if I don’t find her money and bring a replacement load of the drugs you dumped, she’ll be dead.”

Quinn said, “Now why would you use that money to bring a replacement load back here when you could just take it and run?”

“That’s not good business, especially in my line of work,” Rex said.

Tara said, “And betraying your shipmates is?”

Rex shrugged. “We all do what we have to do. I wanted my ship back and I’m not going to apologize for doing what was necessary to get it.”

“So how do you see this playing out?” Quinn asked. “We help you find Kit’s stash and we all go our separate ways, no hard feelings?”

“I could live with that,” Rex said. “I not opposed to the Doc sticking around. Her skills could come in handy and she’s kind of cute being all embarrassed about not having her clothes on.”

“If you expect our help,” Quinn said, reaching a protective hand back to rest on the side of Tara’s naked upper thigh, “you’ll have to make room for both of us aboard and I’m afraid the Doc is going to be wearing clothes too.”

“You’re not in a position to be making demands,” Rex said.

“If you’re serious about using the money to buy the stuff you owe these people and getting Kit out of the trouble you’ve put her in, I’ll tell you where the money is,” Quinn said.

Tara took a step back from Quinn. “You can’t trust him,” she said.

Quinn looked at her over his shoulder. “We don’t have much of a choice, but I’m not going to just trust him,” he said and looked back toward Rex. “We stay on board with you and when it’s time to pay for the cargo, I’ll deliver the money myself.”

Rex shook his head. “And how do I know the two of you won’t just turn on me? Neither of you has shown much loyalty to Kit as it is and I’m sure you won’t show any to me.”

“What choice do you have?” Quinn asked. “I’m betting without out that money you’re as dead as we are.”

“I’ll find the money with or without your help,” Rex said.

“If you were so certain of that, you wouldn’t be here asking for our help,” Tara said.

Quinn nodded. “You need us and that means you are taking us with you.”

Rex smiled. “I have a better idea. I’ll take the Doc with me and you’ll wait here with Kit until we get back.”

“I’m not leaving her alone with you,” Quinn said.

Tara said, “I don’t even know where the stash is anyway.”

Rex shook his head. “Well then I guess the Doc stays behind and you come with me. You’re obviously protective of her so her well being should be enough insurance for me to trust you to do the right thing.”

“She comes with us or I’m not helping,” Quinn said, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Rex shrugged. “Then you’ll both stay and I’ll take my chances of finding the money on the way.”

Tara rested a hand on Quinn’s shoulder. “Go with him. I’ll be fine as long as you promise to come back for me and Kit.”

Rex rolled his eyes. “How sweet. Do we have a deal or not?”

Quinn looked over his shoulder at Tara. Their eyes shared a moment of mutual understanding and commitment before he turned back to Rex. “Fine, but if I even get the hint of betrayal from you, it’ll be the last thing you ever do.”

Rex turned toward the exit and the guards. “You can take her with you, but leave him in the cell.”

The guards moved to the cell door with their weapons drawn. Tara leaned down collecting her clothing with the obvious intention getting dressed. Quinn raised his arms and kept his body between the guards and Tara. The guards opened the door.

The guard on the left said, “Drop the clothes, turn around with your hands behind your back and walk back to us slowly.”

“At least let her get dressed,” Quinn said.

The guard chuckled. “She won’t be needing clothes where she’s going.”

Tara did as instructed and when she reached the guards the attached shackles to her wrists, binding her arms behind her back. The silent guard grabbed her forcibly by the arms and pulled her from the cell while his partner secured the cell door. They led Tara past a grinning Rex who clearly enjoyed the unobstructed view of Tara’s nudity. She blushed long after his leering expression was nothing more than memory. The ship left the hangar with a thunderous and roar and she was all alone with the guards walking the dirt path toward an uncertain future.

The Jade Runner, Part 23

2011-11-07T07:00:00.000-08:00

Two guards grabbed Kit by the shoulder, holding her in place despite her best intention to follow Wudwerth. Zeller pulled a knife from a sheath on his belt and stepped up, directly behind Kit. He pulled the collar of her top and jacket away from her neck and slipped the knife inside. The cold metal sent a chill down her spine. Zeller slashed the knife downward, cutting open Kit’s clothing from behind.

Zeller walked around to the front of Kit and slipped his knife down the front collar of her top. He sliced downward again, opening her top in front. The guards on either side of her pulled the tattered remains of her top and jacket down her arms until only the restraints keeping her hands bound behind her, kept the clothing on any part of her body. The white lace of her bra kept Kit’s breast covered until Zeller reached out and sliced it in half as well. He stared into her eyes enjoying the blush on her cheeks as he reached out with his free hand and pinched her pink nipples until they stood pointed and hard.

Kit spit in his face.

He didn’t bother to wipe it way. Zeller walked around behind her again. He unbound her hands and yanked her upper body’s clothing free, leaving it lay useless on the ground. Kit struggled to break free of the guards grasped, but the three men pushed her forward and bent her over the wooden contraption. Zeller used the leather restraints to fasten her wrists and upper body to the device. The guards removed her pants, panties, boots and socks, leaving her completely naked. Zeller finished fastening the restraints to her knees and ankles. Kit strained against the leather to no avail. She was exposed to their mercy and Zeller had none.

Zeller walked to the wall and lifted a paddle off its hook. He carried it over to Kit and held it in front of her forward staring face. “Do you know what this is?” he asked.

Kit smiled at him. “A replacement for your dick?”

He shook his head. “You are feisty.”

“And you’re a dick-less coward,” Kit said.

Zeller laughed and brushed the strands of Kit’s hair out of her eyes. “You do know I’m going to spank you with this?”

She spat in his face. “Right and I’m not dumb enough to think you’ll not if I’m all sweet and sugary.”

He wiped the saliva off his cheek and stood up straight. With his thumb, he pressed a button on the handle of the paddle and a sound like running water filled the room. The surface of the paddle glistened in the torchlight and ripples appeared as he moved it through the air in Kit’s view.

“The surface of the paddle is kept continually wet,” Zeller said, “which improves the surface contact between the paddle and your flesh. I’m told it has a fierce sting. The effect gets worse the longer the spanking because the cold of the water cause skin contraction while the heat of the spanking causes skin expansion immediately after impact.”

Kit said, “If you let me up, I promise to give you some firsthand experience so you can know for yourself.”

Zeller laughed. “Slaves receive punishment. They do not dish it out.”

“I’m no slave,” Kit said.

He moved around behind her with the paddle. “Oh, but you are,” he said and slapped the paddle hard against her jutting buttocks.

Kit grunted and strained against the restraints holding her down. Zeller swung the paddle another four times. Each time the impact wobbled her buttocks with a muffled crack. Kit fought to move, to free herself, but the leather and wood held her tight. Her butt turned pink. The sting stung from her bottom to her eyes.

Zeller said, “As a slave to Count Wudwerth, you’ll be expected to perform tasks without hesitation or question. Failure will result in a spanking.”

The paddle cracked down ten more times. Kit vocalized her discomfort with noise of pain. She continued to struggle against her restraints to no avail. On the last two swats her legs tried to kick. The guards laughed at her display. A single tear dripped from Kit’s eye and splashed onto the hay covered floor.

“Slaves,” Zeller said, “have no possessions, no property of any kind and most importantly, no clothing. If you attempt to cover yourself in anyway, you will be punished.”

He swung the paddle, reddening her buttocks another twenty times. The fiery pain consumed Kit. She tried to kick and wiggle free. The wood and leather kept her in place. She howled in response to each of the last ten swats. Tears ran freely down her cheeks. Her butt glowed red with warmth and glistened with water droplets the paddle left behind.

Zeller scratched his fingers over her jutting, red buttocks. “If you’d like to serve my guards their evening meal say, Thank you Master Zeller. If you’d like to be spanked more, say anything you like or nothing at all.”

Jade’s voice echoed in Kit head, You can’t fight a storm, you either ride it or get buried by it. Don’t get buried by it.

Kit swallowed her tears and cleared her throat while blinking back the tears still threatening to fall. Her butt burned as hot as the torches lighting the room. She hated Zeller and his guards. Serving them was unthinkable, but Jade was right; There was no true option.

“Thank you, Master Zeller,” she said and closed her eyes.

The Jade Runner, Part 22

2011-10-31T07:00:00.000-07:00

Tara paced the small room along the bars holding them inside. Quinn sat on the small white bench at the back of the room. Outside the cell, the guards stood with their backs to them. They knew Kit and Rex had left the ship and that Rex was in the process of executing a plan that would likely have dire consequences for Kit as well as themselves. From the Griffinscape’s brig, they also knew there was nothing they could do about it.

Tara wrung her hands together , purposefully not looking at Quinn. “This is all my fault.”

“There’s enough blame to go around,” Quinn said.

“If only I hadn’t dumped the cargo,” Tara said, still pacing.

Quinn shook his head. “We’d still have problems, maybe more than we have now and we’d be directly responsible for everything that happened to the people who ended up taking those drugs.”

“I didn’t trust her,” Tara said. “She’s barely more than a kid and it just made sense that she’d be taken in by the lure of fast, easy money.”

“Trust comes with time,” Quinn said. “You haven’t known her or me for very long.”

Tara stopped pacing and faced Quinn. “All the more reason not to rush to judgment. I should have known better than to trust a man like Rex.”

Quinn looked up at her. “He’s a master manipulator. You did what you thought was right.”

“I didn’t think things through,” Tara said.

Quinn said, “There would have been consequences for inaction as well.”

Tara’s hands landed on her hips. “Are you saying I was right to betray Kit?”

Quinn studied her face. He recognized the torment of guilt straining her eyes and cheeks. “No,” he said. “What I’m saying is everybody makes mistakes. It is what we do to correct them that matters.”

Tara nodded. “Spank me.”

Quinn raised an eyebrow at her.

“If not for Kit,” Tara said, “I’d be naked and on the streets of Centora City. A spanking is the least of what I deserve for betray the person who saved me from that.”

Quinn said, “A spanking won’t fix anything right now.”

Tara said, “Perhaps not, but it will ease my conscience long enough that we might find a way to help her.”

Quinn nodded. “Alright, I’ll spank you, but it will be done my way.”

Tara dropped her hands from her waist to dangle free at her side. “Deal.”

He sat up straight, pushing his back against the wall. “I want you to get undressed and lay yourself over my lap.”

“Undressed?” Tara bit at her lip, eyes flickering between the floor and Quinn’s face.

Quinn nodded. “Undressed,” he said. “You said it yourself, without Kit you’d be naked and so it’s only fitting that you be naked when punished for betraying her.”

Tara didn’t bother responding. Instead, she shed her clothes into a pile on the floor. There was no pause or hesitation in her fingers and she did not bother trying to hide her nakedness from Quinn’s piercing gaze. If he hadn’t seen her naked in the square on Centora, enough others had that the embarrassment of being naked no longer even colored her cheeks red. But Tara knew he’d seen her. She remembered his face, on the other side of the door leading into the casino. He had looked away when he noticed she was looking at him.

Not this time. He looked and made no attempt to hide his wandering eyes. She walked the short distance between them, keeping her hands out of the way and leaving herself open to his inspection. His expression yielded no signs of appreciation or lack of it. Only a faint twinkle in his blue eyes suggested he enjoyed the view and the moment. She laid herself over his lap, resting her upper half on the bench beside him and keeping her toes on the ground.

Quinn touched her buttocks with his right hand and wrapped her body to his with his left arm. She offered no resistance at all, not even tensing her muscles. The ointment he’d previously applied to her buttocks had done its job. The bruising and redness from her time in the pillory were all but gone. Only the faintest of tinge of a pink blush remained. He slipped his fingers in the tight space between her thighs and she responded by moving her legs apart.

Patting the center of her bottom, he said, “That’s a good girl. Now, stay in position.”

Tara held her breath and closed her eyes. Quinn raised his open palm, high above her buttocks. He waited, hand hovering in the air and then, without warning, he brought it crashing down into the center of her naked cheeks. Her butt bounced beneath his hand. She snapped her eyes open and let out her held breath in an explosive puff. Quinn allowed his hand to bounce up off her buttocks only to bring it back down again and again. Her bottom turned pink decorated with the fading white prints of his hand.

He continued the spanking until Tara cried freely without restraint. Her buttocks felt warm beneath his hand and they glowed a soft, vibrant red. Through it all she kept herself still and avoided the clenching, squirming, and kicking that the rising sting in her posterior demanded. Over and over, she told herself she deserved nothing more, and certainly nothing less, than she was getting. The spanking bared no comparison to the spanking she received in the pillory. This one had been deserved and despite its clearly lesser severity, it affected her much more deeply.

The Jade Runner, Part 21

2011-10-24T07:00:00.000-07:00

A pair of guards led Quinn and Tara away from Kit and the conference room. They were confined together in a small cell in the Griffinscape’s brig under the watchful eyes of their guards. The man in the red trimmed helmet bound Kit’s hands behind her back and prodded her into the elevator with the remainder of his guards and Rex accompanying them.

Kit led the way on the dirt road leading to the castle seen in the distance. They kept a quick pace. The air hung heavy with humidity and dark clouds closed in overhead. On the horizon above the treetops of surrounding forest, lightning scorched across the sky followed by rolling thunder that shook the dirt beneath Kit’s feet. She kept moving forward, annoyed by the bonds keeping her arms from moving freely at her sides.

At the castle gates, Kit stopped. The man in the red trimmed helmet conferred quietly with a man in a blue trimmed helmet. When their conversation ended, the gate was raised and Kit was prodded forward. They passed through the interior courtyard and entered a building on the west side through a large wooden door. Inside, a wide staircase led them down into the underground depths, lit by torches flickering on the walls. The putrid aroma of wet hay and human sweat wafted its way up and tickled Kit’s nose.

A pair of wooden doors, double the thickness and weight of those above, awaited them at the bottom. Kit stepped through the doors and stopped near the center of the large open room. At its center was a wooden contraption with conspicuously placed leather restraints. She didn’t fancy the idea, but there existed little doubt to its purpose; Punishment, torture, or both.

From a concealed passage on the far side of the room, a man entered and stopped on the opposite side of the wooden contraption. He wore wealthier clothing than his guards. His trousers were black silk and his shirt was a scarlet variation of the same. Jewelry adorned his fingers and a medallion hung around his neck. The black of his hair seemed almost blue in the torchlight.

He stared into Kit’s eyes. “We had a deal.”

“I don’t even know you,” Kit said, meeting his gaze.

“I’m Count Wudwerth,” he said.

“I still don’t know you,” Kit said.

Wudwerth nodded. “And yet you came all this way to deliver me you.”

Kit twisted to look back at Rex. He appeared just as confused. Kit turned back to Wudwerth and said, “What are you talking about?”

Wudwerth took a step closer to her, smiling. “Yes, I was hoping to get my medical shipment as well, but Captain Rex will be correcting that situation for us,” Wudwerth said and looked past Kit to Rex, “won’t you?”

Rex cleared his throat and said, “It’ll just take three days and you’ll have double what you ordered.”

Wudwerth kept smiling at Rex. “You have two.”

Turning his attention back to Kit, Wudwerth reached inside Kit’s jacket. His fingers probed against her body giving no heed to her private space. He found what he was looking for in her jacket pocket and pulled it out. The remote for the Griffinscape passed from Wudwerth to man with red trimmed helmet and he in turned pressed the panel against Kit’s still bound thumb before handing it over to Rex.

“You’ve got your ship back as promised,” Wudwerth said. “Now I suggest you get going because if you aren’t back with my shipment in two days, you’ll lose a lot more than your ship.”

“No worries,” Rex said and left the room with an escort of guards.

Kit stared into the black of Wudwerth’s eyes. Jade’s voice echoed in her head, cautioning her, Don’t be reckless.

“You’re feisty,” Wudwerth said, “but I was expecting that.”

“What do you want from me?” Kit asked.

Wudwerth reached out toward her again. This time his fingers snatched the thin chain around her neck and pulled the jade stone from its hiding place beneath her top. He studies the green jewel in his open palm and then closed his fist around it, yanking the necklace free from Kit.

Rage boiled behind Kit’s eyes. “Give it back!”

He ticked his index finger in the space between them. “I own you and that means everything that was yours is now mine. Get used to it.”

“The stone is mine,” Kit said. Her defiant stare said even more; She belonged to no one.

Wudwerth merely smiled wider before turning his gaze to the man in the red trimmed helmet. “Commander Zeller,” he said, “strip her and teach the Jade Princess what it means to be a slave.”

“With pleasure,” Zeller said.

Wudwerth turned and left the room the way he had entered, taking with him Kit’s necklace.

The Jade Runner, Part 20

2011-10-17T07:00:00.000-07:00

Guards surrounded the Griffinscape inside the landing dock. They wore black armor with a matte, leather finish that covered them from their necks down to their ankles. On their heads they wore black leather helmets with open faces. The helmets were trimmed along the face with silver, except for two that were trimmed in blue and one that was trimmed in a dark red. The two blue were stationed on opposite side of the ship. They appeared to be in command of the guards on their respective sides. The man with the dark red trimmed helmet, stood near the center of the landing dock only a few feet from where the Griffinscape’s passenger ramp would descend. He was in charge.

Kit watched her ship being surrounded from the conference room, adjacent to the helm and navigation center. Rex stood against the wall near the door enjoying Kit’s frustration and barely contained panic. Quinn and Tara arrived from the engineering room. Kit knew her problems were bigger than she thought when she noticed Quinn’s firm grip on Tara’s upper arm. He placed her in chair and stood between her and the exit.

“When they find out we don’t have the cargo, they’re going to kill us,” Kit said.

Tara stared at Kit. “I’m not sorry,” she said. “I became a doctor to save lives and by getting rid of all that Zumena, I’ve saved hundreds.”

“You deliberately dumped the cargo?” Kit asked.

Tara smiled. “I did.”

Kit closed her eyes to contain her anger and frustration. A moment later, she opened them and fixed on Tara. “Why?”

“Have you ever seen someone on Zumena?” Tara asked. “Sure it makes them faster and stronger for a while, but at the same time it erodes their minds, clouds their judgment until they’re nothing more than a slave to their need for more. And eventually, all that speed and strength takes it toll on the body and they die looking like they lived an entire lifetime, but in reality they barely even lived at all.”

“I know all too well what it does,” Kit said.

“Then why,” Tara asked, “would even think of delivering it here? No amount of money is worth what this stuff does to people’s lives.”

“Delivering it was the only thing that was going to keep these people from killing us,” Kit said. She spun the monitor showing the guards outside for Tara to see.

Tara looked up from the monitor into Kit’s eyes. “I’m not afraid to die.”

Quinn said, “Neither am I, but I would prefer to die for something that matters.”

Tara looked back at him. “Keeping Zumena from these people matters.”

“Of course it matters.” Quinn nodded. “The only problem is we’re not keeping it from them like this. Our one small shipment will mean nothing in the long run because someone else will just step in and deliver more to replace what we destroyed.”

Kit nodded. “If we’re going to keep Zumena from these people we’re going to have to make sure the market for it is closed down for good.”

Tara swiveled her head from Kit to Quinn and back again. “I don’t understand.”

Kit laughed without humor. “I’ve seen what LX’s narcotics can do firsthand. I was never going to just deliver the drugs and leave.”

“I gather you have a plan,” Quinn said, looking at Kit.

Kit nodded. “We’re going to have to surrender to them.”

Tara said, “They’ll kill us.”

“I’m going to strike a bargain with them,” Kit said.

Tara said, “The only thing they’ll bargain for is Zumena.”

“Or cash,” Quinn said.

Kit smiled at her companions. “I’m going to offer them both and when they accept, I’m going to bring the authorities down on them at our next meeting.”

Quinn said, “It could also be trouble for us.”

“Maybe,” Kit said, “but if it comes to that I’ll do my best to keep it contained to just me and our new friends outside.”

Tara nodded and looked around the conference room. “Where’s Rex?”

Kit looked to the wall behind Quinn where Rex had been standing. Rex was gone and only the wall remained. Quinn spun around and took a step closer to the door when it opened. Rex walked inside the conference room. He was accompanied by a small group of the guards from outside the ship, led by the man in the red trimmed helmet.

Rex pointed at Kit. “She’s the one,” he said. “She dumped the crates in the ocean.”

Tara looked up at Rex, anger boiling in her eyes. “You lying bastard,” she said.

The man in the red trimmed helmet stepped forward, his gaze locked on Kit. “You are under arrest,” he said. “If you surrender your weapons and come peacefully now, you won’t be harmed.”

Kit opened her jacket, exposing the hilts of her two pistols. One at a time she removed them from her belt and laid them on the table. “If you’ll give me a chance to explain, I’m sure you’ll agree this all just a big misunderstanding.”

The man in the red trimmed helmet asked, “Do you have the crates you agreed to deliver?”

Kit said, “Well no, but—

The man said, “Then there is no misunderstanding. You will come with us now.”

The Jade Runner, Part 19

2011-10-10T07:00:00.000-07:00

A red light blinked on the top edge of the helm controls. It caught Kit’s attention just long enough for her to wonder what it was trying to tell her had gone wrong. Then the Griffinscape bucked like an untamed stallion. Alarms rang out in the small room and all over the ship. More lights on the helm console flashed red as Kit’s fingers flew over the controls. Kit fought for control guided by instinct and intuition.

Quinn staggered into the room from behind Kit, grabbing at any support his hands could find to keep him upright. “What’s going on?” he yelled, over the blaring alarms.

Kit focused on the controls and keeping the Griffinscape from falling out of the sky like a meteor on a collision course with the ocean. Rex glanced over his shoulder. His jaw locked in an expression that held no confidence in Kit’s ability to pilot the ship under the circumstances. Sitting at the navigation console, his ability to save his ship from an imminent crash was limited at best.

Rex said, “The lower cargo doors opened.”

“How?” Quinn asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Rex said. “Someone has to get down there and close them.”

“I’ll go.” Quinn twisted his body to head back out of the helm and navigation center. He half ran, half fell toward the emergency stairs that would take him to the lower decks. It wasn’t a good time to take the elevator.

Three minutes later, the ship’s intercom squawked to life and Quinn’s voice tunneled its way up to Kit from the the engineering deck. “I’m closing the cargo doors now,” he said.

The Griffinscape bucked one last time before surrendering smooth control back into Kit’s fingers. She glanced at Rex, wondering what role he played in opening the doors. The alarms and flashing red lights faded into silence. Kit pressed intercom button and said, “Any idea what happened?”

Kit felt a tension in the silence on the other end before Quinn responded. “I’ve got a pretty good idea this wasn’t an accident.”

Her eyes remained fixed on Rex. “I never thought it was.”

Quinn said, “Given the circumstances, we might not want to stick around.”

“I take it all our cargo is gone?” Kit asked.

“All of it,” Quinn said.

Kit shook her head at Rex. “Well I guess that concludes our business on Rasa.”

Rex’s eyes opened a bit wider than normal. “You can’t run away from these people,” he said. “They’ll find you and when they do they’ll kill you. Your only chance is to land and explain the situation to them.”

“With you doing the explaining?” Kit asked.

“Of course,” Rex said.

Kit laughed. “I’d be smarter to shoot myself.”

Rex chuckled. “If I’d known your aim was that bad, I’d have fought harder back in that alley on Centora.”

“We’re leaving,” Kit said.

She altered course and began an ascent. In the distance the landing dock was already visible through the forward viewports. Beyond it, a castle rose up from the surrounding greenery. The people were impossible to see, but the evidence of their existence and hard work was plain enough; Plowed fields and sprouting crops, a village worth of homes and shops spotting the land between the castle and the dock, and smoke rising up from the tiny chimneys. They were better off without Zumena.

A new red light began flashing on Kit’s console. The collision alert sounded and Kit altered course, stopping the Griffinscape’s ascent. Kit leveled off and attempted to maneuver away from the overhead vessel. It followed her every move. The ship-to-ship com unit crackled to life.

“Griffinscape, you are attempting to deviate from your authorized course. Please explain,” said a young man over the crackling speaker. His voice was gruff and clearly annoyed.

Rex looked at Kit. “Looks like we’re going to have to land after all.”

Kit punched the button to reply to the young man and ignored Rex. “We had a malfunction and need to return to orbit.”

The young man said, “Negative Griffinscape. Maintain your original course and land at the proper coordinates or you will be forced down.”

Kit said, “If our reactor explodes—

“We’re monitoring your ship’s systems. Your reactor is operating within acceptable norms for your class of ship,” the young man said. “Quit stalling and land your vessel now or I’ll be forced to fire upon you.”

Rex grinned for ear to ear. Kit glared at him. She adjusted the Griffinscape’s course back to their original heading. The castle and its village grew larger in the viewport until they were practically on top of it. Kit stopped the forward movement and carefully lowered the ship into the middle of the landing dock using vertical thrusters only. When the Griffinscape touched down on the concrete pad, she powered down the thrusters and ship’s engines. Above them, the roof to the landing slid closed, cutting out the sky from view and leaving Kit feeling trapped.

The Jade Runner, Part 18

2011-10-03T07:00:00.000-07:00

The Griffinscape exited the Rasa gateway in a brilliant flash of white light. Standing behind Kit in the ship’s helm and navigation center, Tara watched as Kit accelerated toward the green and blue sphere that was their destination; Rasa. It grew larger in the forward window ports until it filled them. Kit altered their course to orbit the planet.

Rex swiveled out of the navigation chair and jumped to his feet. “I’ll make the final arrangements for our landing.”

Kit nodded. “Good, I just want to get this over and done with.”

Rex left the area through the door at the back and head to communications room on the port side of the ship. Tara followed, closing the room’s door behind her. She had questions and the things she thought she knew weren’t adding up. Kit and Quinn acted like nice enough people, but so did every con artist in the galaxy.

Rex paused at the control and eyed Tara along with the closed door at her back. “What’s going on?” he asked.

Tara looked him over. He wore dusty clothes, worn with age and toil. His hat might have belonged to a farmer, his jacket fit a pilot, and his shirt and jeans would have been more befitting to a maintenance worker in the dark depths of Centora city. Somehow the hodgepodge collection fit the man and gave him the feel of a man hardened in truth and reality. He was rugged with sharp edges.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked.

“Rasa ain’t exactly civilized territory,” Rex said. “If I don’t schedule our landing we’ll likely be shot right out of the sky.”

Tara stepped forward and leaned on the edge of the console between them. “That’s not what I’m talking about. Why are you mixed up in this dirty drug deal?”

Rex eyed her. He noticed the tone of her voice, the white of her knuckles gripping the console and the sadness in her eyes. “You heard Captain Kid, this mess is all my fault.”

Tara nodded. “Is it?”

“Maybe I underestimated you,” Rex said.

She asked, “How so?”

“I figured you a lost cause,” he said. “She made such a nice little tale out of rescuing you, I didn’t expect you’d see through it.”

“Things just aren’t making sense to me,” Tara said. “First she says she’s responsible for what happened to me, then she says she not. She says she hates LX and yet she’s hauling illegal cargo for them. We could have stopped this whole thing back on that Custom’s station, but like you said, she only seems to care about making her money. I don’t trust her. Don’t misunderstand me though, I don’t trust you either.”

Rex smiled. “Smart lady. Figures you’d be a doctor.”

“So,” Tara said, looking him in the eye, “why are you helping her deliver these drugs.”

Rex nodded. “The Griffinscape used to be my ship. I lost her fair and square to our young Captain cause I was drunk and stupid. She offered me a job as her navigator on this trip with the promise of big money, the kind of money that could help me a get a ship of my own again. I didn’t ask questions, guess I probably knew and didn’t want to know, that anything paying that much had to be illegal.”

“The syringe?” Tara asked.

Rex smiled wider and chuckled. “Yeah. I had to look and when I saw what we were carrying, I thought maybe I could stop us short. Set things right, you know?”

“Why did you help her with the Inspector then?” Tara asked.

Rex stopped smiling. He shook his head. “I thought she’d go quietly, but she was ready to turn the whole deal nuclear. If she’d forced a full investigation with the paperwork she had from LX, all the little lies that the government tells itself would start to unravel and all of us, not just the bitchy little kid, but all of us, would spend the rest of our lives someplace very dark and unpleasant. The kind of place where you can know all the dirty little secrets that make the galaxy spin and nobody will ever listen to you.”

“Maybe she was bluffing,” Tara said.

Rex shook his head. “I played poker against her. She doesn’t bluff.”

“We can’t deliver these drugs,” Tara said. “People will die if we do.”

“If you mean that,” Rex said, “I could use your help.”

“To do what?” Tara asked.

“When we enter the atmosphere and maneuver for a landing, we’ll have to pass over an ocean,” Rex said.

Tara nodded.

Rex said, “If someone were in the starboard engineering room at the right moment and happened to push the emergency release for the lower cargo bay doors, all those drugs would fall into the ocean and sink all the way to the ocean floor.”

“Didn’t you say you were the only one who knew the buyers for this deal and if we don’t deliver they’ll hunt us down?” Tara asked.

Rex nodded. “They’ll hunt the kid and her gray haired sidekick down. She made me help her set this deal in motion using some of my less savory contacts. Like I said, I should have known this was illegal job.”

Tara considered Rex’s story and found it missing pieces, just like Kit’s. “Why would Kit trust you to keep the contacts from her, if this was all her idea?”

Rex laughed. “She didn’t. I kept the contacts from her because without them as insurance I figured I’d be good as dead as soon she figured she didn’t need me anymore. Given what happened back at the station, I think it’s safe to say I was right.”

Tara nodded. His story wasn’t perfect, but the pieces fit well enough to the facts she knew. People have secrets and sometimes those secrets create gaps in the puzzle of events. She figured if the overall picture wasn’t obscured, the missing bits didn’t really matter.

“And why wouldn’t they hunt us down?” Tara asked.

“They don’t even know about you,” Rex said. “As for me, well let’s just say I have some friends in high places who could make things very difficult for these people if I disappear.”

“You really want to do this?” Tara asked.

Rex nodded. “We can’t deliver these drugs.”

Tara left the room and took the elevator down to the first level. She stood next to the controls for the cargo bay doors and watched on a small monitor as the ship entered the atmosphere on course for its rendezvous. When the image showed nothing but water below, she pressed the button. A red siren flashed and alarm blared over the engine room speaker. The lower cargo bay doors swung downward, opening a hole in the bottom of the ship and dropping the LX crates into the water.

The Jade Runner, Part 17

2011-09-26T07:00:00.000-07:00

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.”

Girl in the Window

2011-09-24T07:00:00.000-07:00

The Jade Runner, Part 16

2011-09-19T07:00:00.000-07:00

Fifteen minutes is all it took. The white coated inspectors returned to the cargo bay and reported two at a time to their orange collared leader before lining up at the foot of the loading ramp. Kit watched the flow of traffic with suspicion tainted eyes, but other than the smug grinning of Rex on the opposite side of the loading ramp, she saw nothing amiss. Nothing, until the final two inspectors made their report and a small sealed package exchanged hands ending inside a large pocket in the orange collared man’s outer coat.

The last two inspectors exited the bay, joining their comrades at the bottom of the loading ramp. Kit watched the orange collared man as he too approached the ramp as if he were going to exit. At the last moment, he veered off-course and stopped only inches from Rex. The orange collared man lifted the package out of his pocket and waved it in the small space between himself and Rex.

“I’m sorry Rex, but it seems we have problem,” the orange collared man said.

Rex cocked his head at the package. “What you got there?”

At the orange collared man’s touch the package turned from solid orange to transparent. Inside a small syringe was the only visible object. Tara drew a quick breath at the sight. Kit’s jaw tightened and her instincts screamed for her to run. She stood her ground, having no place to go. Quinn watched with impassivity and Rex kept grinning.

The orange collared man said, “I’m going to have to take you into custody.”

“I was hoping not to have to say anything,” Rex said, his eyes looking over the man’s shoulder to meet Kit’s, “but I’m afraid I ain’t the Griffinscape’s captain no more.”

“And who is?” The orange collared man asked.

Kit stepped forward. “I am. What’s going on here?”

The orange collared man turned around to face Kit. “My inspectors found this syringe and their scanners confirmed it is filled with an illegal narcotic, Zumena.”

“The only drugs on my ship are right here in these crates,” Kit said. “If your inspectors found that syringe on my ship, it could only have come from right here and I think we both know if they’ve opened one of these crates, they’re the ones in trouble here.”

“They found it in your medical bay,” the orange collared man said. “I have to place you under arrest.”

“Why me?” Kit asked, glancing around at her companions. “I’m not the only one here and that syringe is definitely not mine. In fact, I’ve never even seen it before.”

The orange collared man said, “You are the owner and captain of this vessel. That makes you responsible for any contraband found on your ship.”

Rex smirked at Kit. “You wanted to keep the ship.”

Kit glared at Rex. Her instincts told her he was responsible for the mess, but she also knew Tara had been inside the crates. Given the location the Custom’s inspectors said they had found the syringe, it was possible Tara had just been careless. She hadn’t known they were about to dock with a Custom’s station.

“How do I know your inspector’s didn’t just plant that thing?” Kit asked. “How do I know they didn’t open one of these crates and just take a syringe out to create a problem?”

The orange collared man said, “My inspectors know better than to open any of these crates and their search of the ship is completely documented on video.”

Kit said, “Video can be edited easily enough. Why don’t we check these crates and just make sure none of them has been opened.”

“Are you suggesting this syringe came from one of these crates?” the orange collared man asked. “Because if you are, it would appear then that you’re confessing to knowingly transporting illegal narcotics under the guise of legally protected pharmaceuticals.”

Don’t be reckless, Jade’s voice taunted in Kit’s ears. Pushing too far could be disastrous, but Kit knew she needed leverage if she hoped to leave Custom’s station any time soon. An open crate would create doubt regarding the conduct of the inspectors. Doubt gave Kit room to bargain. The only problem remaining, centered on the contents of that open crate which Kit feared would be an exact match for the packaged syringe. If the inspectors learned the crates were full of such syringes, Kit and her crew would find themselves caught up in the midst of a criminal investigation directed by politics, not facts.

Kit said, “I don’t know the exact contents of these crates anymore than you do. What I do know is I don’t trust your inspectors.”

“Your trust, or lack of it, is irrelevant,” the orange collared man said.

“What evidence do you have that the syringe in the bag has ever been handled by any of us?” Quinn asked, stepping forward to offer Kit support.

The orange collared man looked to Quinn. “None. The find is documented as occurring in the ship’s medical bay and the contents are identified as narcotic. However, no DNA, fingerprints or fiber particles were found on or around the syringe.”

Quinn raised an eyebrow at the orange collared man. “And that doesn’t strike you as odd or the least bit suspicious?”

The orange collared man said, “Those are matters for the courts, not me.”

Rex cleared his throat and tipped his hat back. “Surely we can find a way not to involve the courts in this little mix up?”

The orange collared man glanced over his shoulder at Rex. “What do you have in mind?”

Rex said, “You already have the syringe, keep it.”

Kit said, “And we’ll just be on our way without causing you more trouble.”

“Alright,” the orange collared man said. “We’ll handle it your way with one condition.”

Kit shrugged. “What?”

The orange collared man looked her straight in the eye. “You take a spanking for having the audacity to accuse my people of corruption.”

Kit’s face reddened with anger. “We all know that evidence was planted, the only question is by whom.”

The orange collared man shrugged. “Well, if you don’t like my suggestion, I suppose we’ll just have to let the courts sort all this out.”

Consequence aren’t just for other people, Jade taunted in Kit’s ear.

Kit sighed. “Fine, I’ll take your spanking, but fifteen minutes from now, my ship, crew and cargo had better be back on our way.”

The Jade Runner, Part 15

2011-09-12T07:00:00.000-07:00

Kit and Tara entered the cargo bay. Rex and Quinn turned toward them as they made their way across the deck to the loading ramp where the two men were standing. With a single look at Rex, Kit could tell he knew what she had just found out and was already coming up with excuses to try and placate her. Quinn simply appeared baffled by their presence.

“What’s up?” Quinn asked.

“Have you seen anybody yet?” Kit asked.

Rex said, “Just a liaison officer. The inspection team will be with us shortly.”

Kit ignored Rex, keeping her eyes on Quinn. “Do you know what we’re carrying?”

Quinn looked around the room. “Medical supplies.”

Tara laughed. “I wouldn’t give that shit to a stuck pig.”

Quinn raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“These aren’t medical supplies,” Kit said, waving her arm at the crates filling the hold. “They’re narcotics and if one of those inspectors open up just one of these crates and realizes that, we’re all going to spend the next couple of decades rotting in some very dark holes.”

Rex shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Relax Kid. They ain’t going to open those crates and as long as you and your friends keep your mouths shut, they ain’t never going to know what’s inside them.”

Kit scowled at Rex’s cocky smile. “And how do you figure that? Are we bribing someone to make sure of it?”

Rex chuckled. “Bribery is a risky business. Fortunately, I’ve got transport papers from LX Pharmaceuticals that confirm we’re transporting an authorized shipment of medical supplies to the colony on Rasa. If any of these inspectors opens up a crate or box marked with LX’s ID code, they’ll be in violation of government contracts and in a hell of a lot more trouble than we’d be if we were found to be knowingly transporting illegal products.”

Tara stepped forward, getting closer to Rex. “It sounds like you’ve done this before.”

Rex nodded, tipping his hat’s rim in her direction. “I work for anyone with legitimate transport papers and I don’t peek inside the boxes. If these aren’t medical supplies, I don’t know it because I’ve got papers that say that’s exactly what they are.”

Kit said, “You know exactly what’s in these crates and you knew it long before you ever conned me into letting it on board my ship.”

Rex said, “Don’t get all high and might with me little Miss. If you care about what you were going to be transporting you would have come along to the pick up or at the very least have asked me before agreeing to do the job. The fact is you liked the money and didn’t give a damn what you were doing to earn it.”

Kit raised her voice. “You said this was a legal transport.”

Rex raised a finger to his lips and made a hushing sound. “You don’t want to attract attention.”

“I ought to drop kick your ass out the airlock if we get off this station,” Kit said.

Tara smiled. “Can I help?”

Rex shook his head. “I told you this was a legit job and it is. These papers,” he said, waving the papers in the air, “say so and that’s all that matters.”

“How do I know you aren’t trying to screw me and get your ship back?” Kit asked.

“You don’t,” Rex said. He tipped his hat back so his eyes were clearly visible. “You’re just going to have to trust me, because if you don’t and you tell those custom officers what you think you know, you’ll only be causing yourself trouble. Of course, I think you already know that.”

Tara said, “I vote we just tell them and take our chances on these people believing this scum bag set us all up.”

Quinn shook his head. “It won’t play out that way. We get caught here, confessing or otherwise, and we’re all done for. Trust me, I know how these things work.”

Rex nodded. “Listen to the man. You two little ladies should just go on up to the mess hall and fix us all something to eat. We’ll handle the big bad inspectors and all you need to do is keep your mouths shut until we’re off this station. Think you can handle that?”

Kit said, “This is my ship. I’ll give the orders and if you don’t like it I can leave you and your cargo right here.”

“Suit yourself,” Rex said, “but if you two don’t get your game faces on and change your attitudes, none of us will be leaving here.”

The bay doors opened and a small army of white coated inspectors walked up the ramp led by a man with an orange collar showing up through the top of his coat. He stopped in front of Rex and didn’t even glance at the others. Kit figured the two men knew each other and that made her even more nervous, but she kept the expression off her face. Tara put on a smile like she was welcoming old friends only the look in her eyes spoke of fire and brimstone.

The orange collar man said, “Ship’s manifest?” He held out his hand.

Rex handed over the papers. “Appreciate it if you can make it quick. These supplies are needed yesterday on Rasa.”

The man nodded. “Sure thing, Captain Rex.” He turned back to his army of inspectors. “Skip the cargo hold boys and give me a quick check of the passenger areas.”

The white army marched aboard and head for the stairs and elevator in equal numbers. Kit, Tara and Quinn stood off to the side and watched as the inspectors disappeared from sight. Each of them wanted to make Rex pay for his subterfuge, but it was only possible if they were willing to sacrifice themselves as well. Rex grinned at them, leaning comfortably against the ship’s frame at the top of the loading ramp. If he had nerves or a conscience, he had buried it so deep and so long ago that even he would have trouble recognizing it. Willing or not, they were all smugglers and that gave Rex every advantage.

The Red Zone

2011-09-10T07:00:00.000-07:00

The Jade Runner, Part 14

2011-09-05T07:00:00.000-07:00

Tara rode the elevator up to the control center fuming over the evidence of betrayal she found in the cargo hold. The doors opened and she stormed forward passing the ship’s library on her right until she stood in the doorway of the helm and navigation center. Kit sat with her back to the door, studying the controls and making course corrections as they approached the docking bay of a large orange station. The navigation chair sat empty and no one else could be seen or heard.

Waiting until the delicate maneuvers needed for docking were complete, Tara stood clenching and unclenching her fists. When Kit’s hands left the control and the ship sat docked in the bay, she asked, “So how much are they paying you?”

Kit spun fast in her chair to face Tara.

“What?” Kit asked, startled and confused by Tara’s presence and accusatory tone.

Tara planted her hands on her hips and shook her head, like a scolding mother. “I just want to know, how much was my life worth?”

Kit blinked. She had planned on telling Tara everything, but she hadn’t counted on Quinn telling her first. The timing could not have been worse. Kit said, “It wasn’t like that.”

“No?” Tara said. She stepped forward and glared down into Kit’s eyes. “What was it like then? Don’t tell me you and your merry band of petty criminals really thought you were doing me a favor?”

Kit looked up into the angry face looming over her. “I’m just trying to make things right.”

“For who?” Tara asked. Her hands twitched at her sides with a growing urge to wrap her fingers around Kit’s neck and squeeze. “For LX? For you and your shipmates? Cause you sure as hell aren’t doing anything good for me.”

“What else can I do?” Kit asked. “I never intended for you or anyone else to get caught up in my mess, but I can’t change what’s happened.”

Tara shook her head. “So you are the thief.”

Kit lowered her gaze. “I am, but it’s not that simple.”

Tara rolled her eyes and laughed. “It’s not that complicated, little girl. You either thought you needed the money or thought you needed the high. Either way, you didn’t stop and think about the consequences of your actions.”

Kit blinked. Tara’s words weren’t adding up to the reality Kit understood. “I’m not a druggie,” Kit said.

“User, dealer, or smuggler,” Tara said, “you’re all part of the same fucked up soup to me.”

Kit stared up into Tara’s eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t play stupid,” Tara said. “I looked in the cargo hold and I know you’re running narcotics for LX.”

Kit’s eyes opened wide. She glanced around behind her, looking out the window to the docking bay beyond. “I’m going to kill him.”

Tara read the truth of shock in Kit’s eyes. “You didn’t know did you?”

Kit shook her head. “I would never do business with LX. They killed my sister.”

Tara blinked as her mind raced to retrace their conversation with new understanding. “What the hell did you steal from them?”

Kit said, “The drug money you were convicted of stealing.”

Tara shook her head. “I wasn’t convicted of stealing drug money. I was convicted for stealing pharmaceuticals. They would never bring anything to do with their narcotics trade to the authorities.”

“But you didn’t steal them?” Kit asked.

“Of course not,” Tara said. “I found out about the narcotics they were slipping into hospital pharmaceuticals and they framed me for theft to discredit my claims with the authorities trying to investigate them.”

Kit nodded. That was exactly how Jade had got caught up in the mess that killed her. There was never enough proof for the authorities to do anything and now it was clear why no one would step forward. Those that even though about it, would end up like Tara did. Kit said, “I’m guessing their tactic worked?”

Tara nodded. “I don’t know for certain, but it’s a good bet the authorities I was working with will find their case falling to pieces without me to back things up.”

“Maybe we can do something about that,” Kit said, “but first we’ve got a more immediate problem.”

“What?” Tara asked.

Kit stood up and signalled for Tara to follow her as she headed toward the elevator at the back of the ship. “We just docked with a customs station and if the inspectors look inside our cargo and see what you saw, we’ll be spending the next twenty years digging ore on some miserable asteroid.”

Tara said, “You’re really not very good at this, you know?”

Kit glanced at Tara as they stepped inside the elevator. “At what?”

“Smuggling,” Tara said. “First of all, you should never go anywhere without knowing what you’re carrying in your hold and second, if you’re carrying illegal goods, it’s a good idea to avoid customs or at least have a plan for getting past them.”

The elevator descended through the ship toward the first level. Kit shook her head at Tara. “You’re starting to remind me of my sister. She always had a load of good advice too. And she had a penchant for offering it up right after the shit hit the fan too.”

Brightest Moment

2011-09-02T07:00:00.000-07:00

The Jade Runner, Part 13

2011-08-29T07:00:00.000-07:00

Tara closed her eyes. It was easy to trust a man with gray hair and honest, blue eyes. Her muscles tensed in response to the sensation of the cool liquid dripping onto her bruised and burning buttocks. She grabbed the edges of the black medical bed and pushed herself upward until a firm hand in the middle of her back pushed her back down. Turning her head to the side, she stared up at the man and tried to relax.

Quinn massaged the liquid into her tortured buttocks, gently kneading her reddened flesh. “I know it hurts,” he said, “but this will help.”

“I know,” Tara said, trying not to wince at his efforts, “I’m a— I mean, I used to be a doctor.”

Quinn added more ointment and continued rubbing it into her cheeks. “The pillory can change a lot of things, especially the way you see the galaxy and the way it sees you, but it doesn’t change who and what you are.”

“I’m not a thief,” she said.

“I know.” He nodded.

“How could you?” she asked, propping up on her elbows to get a better look into his face.

He kept working the ointment into her skin, avoiding looking into her eyes. “I just do.”

Tara considered her situation for a moment and decided she had nothing left to lose. “You’re hiding something from me, and so is the girl.”

Quinn closed the bottle of ointment and turned to put it back in the medicinal cabinet on the wall in front of the bed. “I’m finished,” he said.

She rolled off the bed onto her feet and smoothed her skirt back into place. Her panties laid on a nearby table, but she decided to leave them where they were. She stared at Quinn’s back until he finally turned around to face her. “It’s not that I’m not grateful. It’s just that LX did such a good job framing me, my own parents thought I was guilty and yet here I am with you and that girl both telling me you know I’m innocent. How could either of you possibly know that?”

Quinn said, “Because we know the real thief’s identity.”

Tara blinked in confusion. “I didn’t think there was a real thief. I thought it was all manufactured just to get me out of the way.”

“Out of the way?” Quinn asked. An eyebrow raised on his forehead. “Out of the way of what?”

Tara shrugged. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Maybe not,” he said, “but that doesn’t mean we can’t talk about it.”

She shook her head. “I’d rather talk about where we’re going and why.”

“Suit yourself,” Quinn said. “We’re headed for a system called Rasa to deliver some supplies they need. It’s nothing too exciting and nothing to be worried about.”

“So you’re privateers,” she said.

Quinn nodded.

“Good,” Tara said, “cause I was thinking you were smugglers considering your familiarity with a thief who apparently got a free ride on me.”

“Nothing quite so glamorous,” Quinn said. “Rasa is a remote system which means our delivery is going to take a few days, but we’ll get a nice load of cash out of it. With your share, you’ll be able to start over any place you like and if you stay off the core worlds, no one will even ask the sort of questions you’ll be wanting to avoid.”

“Why would I get a share?” Tara asked. She gazed into his eyes expecting to find secrets and mystery. If they were there, she couldn’t find them. “What are you people expecting me to do?”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Quinn said. “We just want to help you out.”

“But why?” she asked.

“You got a raw deal,” he said. “Kit wanted to do what she could to make it right and I felt the same.”

Tara asked, “Are you the thieves?”

“I’ve never stolen anything,” Quinn said.

“Alright,” Tara said. “So why was that woman chasing us? Kit said she thought you’d stolen something from her and people don’t jump to those kind of conclusions without reason.”

Quinn said, “The person who used to own this ship didn’t always have ethical dealings. The woman back in the city thought because we we’re on this ship, we were in league with the former owner.”

“But you’re not,” she said.

Quinn wavered, swinging his head lightly from side to side. “It’s not that simple. We weren’t, but circumstances changed. We’re not doing anything illegal though.”

“Was that woman with the police?” Tara asked.

“No.”

“So what are these supplies we’re carrying?” she asked.

“Pharmaceuticals,” he said. “Rasa is apparently in desperate need.”

Tara’s hackles raised. “I imagine that means they could use an extra doctor too.”

Quinn nodded. “I would expect so, but you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Tara snorted a half laugh. “I’m going to get some rest. It sounds like I’ll need it.”

She left the medical bay and Quinn behind. A few doors down she found an empty room with a bed and stepped inside. She listened by the door until she heard Quinn leave the medical bay and enter the elevator. Alone on the deck, she made her way forward and found the stairwell leading down into the cargo bay. It could all be a coincidence and it was possible the girl and her gray haired friend were just trying to help, but her gut told her such coincidences were unlikely. When she saw the crates and confirmed what was inside, she knew the truth; Her saviors were nothing of the sort. They were smugglers and they were working for LX.