The Winter Storm, Part 9

“My goodness!” Mrs. Bennett said.

Miles turned from the fireplace as his mother entered the room. She was looking past him to Jennifer standing in front of the warm hearth. Jennifer had her hands held out to the crackling fire as she rubbed them together for heat. Her dress was drier than it had been when she climbed into his truck, but the black material remained stuck to her contours. The tangled matte of her hair still dripped droplets from its uneven ends.

Mrs. Bennett rested a hand on the back of the couch and said, “Sweetie, you must be chilled to the bone in those wet things. Let’s go upstairs and get you something dry to wear.”

Jennifer looked over her shoulder at Mrs. Bennett, offering a grateful smile and an agreeing nod. Mr. Bennett’s arrival on the scene kept Jennifer’s mouth shut and faded the smile from her lips. Miles knew the relative tranquility of the crackling fire and the wafting hickory scent-filled room was about to be shattered. Part of him wished he had no filled his father in on the morning’s events, but of course that would have only delayed the inevitable.

“This young lady,” Mr. Bennett said, his gaze encompassing everyone in the room, “won’t be needing clothing, dry or otherwise, anytime soon unless she’s tendering her resignation.”

Jennifer faced the room and quickly took a step forward away from the fireplace. She held her hands behind her as if they could assuage her discomfort. “I understand you’re angry with me, but I’d like a chance to explain.”

One look at his father and Miles knew it was not a time to go easy on his girlfriend. Ignoring the enticing protrusion of her cold nipples through the taunt black of her dress, he squared himself to her and dug deep for a stern voice. “I’d love some explanations. Let’s start with why you’ve been lying to me?”

Mrs. Bennett walked around the couch, stopping in the center of the room. “Before you get carried away, I’ll just take those wet clothes and get them drying.”

Jennifer’s gaze traveled between Miles and his father. As if her curves were not calling enough attention to themselves, she pushed her chest out and jutted her hips to the left. “Do you think I could have some privacy and maybe a towel?”

“Sweetie, you ought to be ashamed,” Mrs Bennett said with a chortle. She planted her hands on her hips and shook her head. “That wet rag isn’t hiding much as it is and despite what you might think, you don’t have anything they haven’t seen before.”

Mr. Bennett leaned on the back of the couch, squeezing the taupe leather in his hands. “You can jiggle your boobs and wag your tail all you want, but if you don’t start peeling off that sorry excuse for a dress, you’ll be doing it on a street corner for a ride home.”

Jennifer shifted to a more humble stance and bit on her lower lip. She fluttered her long eyelashes and gazed doe-eyed at Miles. “You aren’t seriously going to stand there and let him humiliate me like this are you?”

Miles stared back, noting the glistening of welled tears. He assumed they were of the crocodile variety and ignored them. “You didn’t seem to have a problem humiliating me in the middle of my meeting this morning.”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that,” Jennifer said. She grabbed at his hand dangling beside him and stroked the soft flesh of his palm with the lightest touch of her fingernails. “I’ve just been having a bad day.”

Miles pulled away from her touch and stepped backward, away from her and the fireplace. “What I know is you are going to either take your punishment or you’re going to leave here unemployed.”

Jennifer turned her back to the room, facing the fireplace. The firelight danced in shadows around the room. Her taut jawline revealed her strengthening resolve even as her cheek grew pink with untold shame. She reached a tentative hand across her chest to slip the thin strap off her left shoulder. The strap hung limp beside her bare arm and she looked over her naked shoulder at Miles with pouting lips and fiery eyes. “I thought you loved me,” she said.

Miles stared at her pale flesh as she extricated her arm from the hanging shoulder strap. “I do,” he said. “That’s why I’m not going to let you get away with the bad behavior you’ve revealed this morning.”

Mr. Bennett walk around the couch and joined Miles on Jennifer’s left. She turned her head from them and slipped out of the right shoulder strap. Stretching to reach behind herself, she grasped the zipper pulled it down with a whir. The wet fabric clung to her skin, holding it in place. She peeled it downward, exposing the pale flesh of her naked breasts. Pushed past her hips, the dress fell to a puddle around her feet. She raised her feet, one at a time, out of the puddle and kicked the dress aside. Adorned in high heels and black panties she crossed her arms over her naked breasts and glared over her shoulder at Miles and Mr. Bennett.

They stared back in silence as the fire crackled behind the black mesh guard. She looked away, leaned down, pulled her heels off one at a time, and dropped them on top of her dress. Her thumbs hooked into the waistband of her panties and tugged them down past her knees, allowing them to fall around her naked feet. She stepped out of them and used her left foot to drop them on her heels. Her arms crossed in front of herself in a futile attempt to hide her nudity.

Mrs. Bennett stepped close to the naked girl’s turned back. She traced her finger along the edges of Jennifer’s bare buttocks, admiring the red glow and subtle horizontal stripes.  “My, my,” she said, “looks like someone beat us to the job.”

Jennifer fixed her gaze on the mantle above the fireplace. Her embarrassed cheek glistened brighter in the flickering light. She took a deep breath and said, “I already told Miles, I was trying to keep things quiet.”

Mrs. Bennett gave a gentle slap to Jennifer’s left buttock as she leaned down to collect the pile of discarded clothing. Jennifer yelped, kicking her leg up and hopping in place for a moment eliciting a laugh from Mrs. Bennett and a chuckle from Miles.

“Sweetie,” Mrs. Bennett said, “you’re obviously not the kind of girl who keeps things quiet.” She wrapped the small pile of clothes into a ball in her hands and walked out of the room saying, “I’ll just get these things to drying and be right back.

Miles stared at the pale profile of his girlfriend illuminated in the firelight. Her snaked arms did little to obstruct his view. The soft bubble flesh of her breast peeked out from behind her arm and the titillating curvature of her buttocks was hidden only by shadows caused by the flicker of the fire. Her toned legs and tight abdomen were fully exposed and just as bewitching to Miles as the first time he had seen them. He knew there were things to be said that had nothing to do with her beauty, but his breath was caught in his throat and the words were lost in a fog of barely restrained lust.

Mr. Bennett removed his glasses and wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. He sighed, shook his head and said, “Stop acting like you still have something to hide. Put your hands on your head and turn and face us proper.”

Jennifer’s jaw tightened and her cheek reddened a little more, but whatever protests might have raced through her brain were quickly abandoned in favor of silent compliance. She raised her hands, interlocking her fingers together on the top of her head and pivoted to face Mr. Bennett. A single teardrop spilled out of her right eye, running its way down her cheek to splatter against her naked breast. She lowered her gaze to the floor and nibbled at her lower lip.

Mr. Bennett paced the room between the coffee table and the couch. He spun his glasses by the thin gold arm held between his thumb and forefinger. “A month ago, I fired my daughter because you said she was not getting her work done. Your evidence was ambiguous at best and Rachel denied it all, pointing her own finger back at you. I didn’t listen to her because I trusted you. Rachel has a history of not being dependable or honest, but of course you knew that as well as I did. But here we are facing the same problem and Rachel isn’t involved. Could it be I trusted the wrong young lady?”

Jennifer twisted her head to follow Mr. Bennett’s pacing. The soft skin over her abdomen stretched tight over her muscles and her breasts swayed with the motion. “Things were far worse than you knew a month ago. Rachel left a hole too big for me to fill alone.”

Mr. Bennett stopped pacing and pushed his glasses back into place. He squared himself to Jennifer and . “You expect me to believe that when you wait to say anything until now. Come now Jennifer, do really think I’m that gullible or is it Miles you’re hoping to convince?”

“I’m not trying to fool anybody,” Jennifer said. “I’m just telling you the truth.”

Miles stepped closer to Jennifer and grabbed hold of her chin, turning her head  to face him. “You can’t just go on blaming Rachel for everything. Not three days ago, you told me you had everything under control. Obviously that was a lie.”

Tears moistened the bottom of Jennifer’s eyes and her chin quivered. “Believe whatever you want to believe.”

Pangs of guilt tugged on Miles’ heart as the tears spilled from Jennifer’s eyes onto her flustered cheeks. Her swollen eyes bored their way down into his soul making him doubt everything he thought he knew about the situation. She was his angel and if she had lied perhaps there was a reason he simply didn’t understand. A reason, that if he knew, he would support her as her soft brown eyes begged him to do right then. Maybe everything was Rachel’s fault and he was just too blind to see it.

Mr. Bennett stepped closer to Miles and Jennifer. “We could debate all day as to what you knew and when you knew it, but for the moment those facts are irrelevant. What we do know, what is indisputable, is that you started the morning off telling Miles you would stay home and you did not. Further, you delivered an update to a client that was supposed to have been delivered a week ago, you failed to deliver a trial version of our software to Harper & Son and, when Miles called you to ask about it, you proceeded to curse up a storm and avoid answering the question. These are the facts and these are the reasons you deserve to be punished.”

Jennifer fluttered her eyelashes in Mr. Bennett’s direction as more tears spilled onto her cheeks. “If I let you down, I’m sorry.”

Miles shook off his doubts. His father’s words sank through the fog clouding his view of Jennifer. Her excuses, Rachel’s involvement or lack thereof, mattered little, if at all, in the events of the morning. With her gaze fixed upon his father he saw her fluttering eyelashes for what they were— distraction and subterfuge. He felt the fool for having lost sight of the real reasons they were standing beside the fire.

“If?” Miles said, his voice raised to the level of trembling. “There is no if about it. You have let me down, let my father down, let our clients down, and I would hope you have let yourself down because if you are satisfied with your performance this morning, then we have a much bigger problem here than I thought.”

“Miles,” Jennifer said, turning her big, sad eyes on him.

“Don’t,” he said. “I’m done feeling sorry for you. If your butt wasn’t already glowing as red as those embers in the fireplace, I’d be making it that way right now. Considering your mouth has caused the majority of the drama this morning though, I think a good mouth soaping will suffice until your butt is ready for the paddling you deserve.”

Mr. Bennett’s head nodded approval. “That’s an excellent idea.”

“I have an unopened bar of soap under the kitchen sink,” Mrs. Bennett said returning to the living room with a shivering, wet Rachel in tow. “You can go stand next to the fireplace with your hands on your head, young lady,” Mrs. Bennett said to Rachel.

Rachel raised her hands to her head and navigated the outer edge of the living room, bypassing the couch and matching armchair to stand near the right edge of the fireplace. Her skin was damp with rain and glistening with the pink flush of mild embarrassment. Water dripped from her matted hair onto her naked back and her black panties stuck to her buttocks as if they were glued in place. Despite what had to have been a mortifying experience outside, Rachel retained most of her customary spark.

In a whisper barely audible over the crackle of the burning fire, Rachel looked to Jennifer and said, “Looks like someone else got a little too big for her britches, not to mention the rest of her clothes.”

Miles caught the glint of a response flickering in Jennifer’s eyes and cut it off without a voice. He grabbed Jennifer by the elbow and propelled her toward the kitchen. Mr. and Mrs. Bennett followed, leaving Rachel alone.

With Jennifer parked next to the kitchen sink, Miles opened the cupboard below and removed an unwrapped bar of soap. He tore the package open and laid the fresh bar on the counter top where Jennifer’s eyes couldn’t help but stare at it. Mr. Bennett stood on the opposite side of the kitchen with Mrs. Bennett, watching.

“It’s been a long time since I had a bar of soap in my mouth,” Miles said, with a quick glance to his mother, “but I can assure you it’s not an experience you forget quickly.”

Jennifer’s gaze remained fixed on the bar lying on the counter. Her lips were tightly closed as if she thought she could somehow avoid the punishment by turning mute. Her chest rose and fell while her nostrils flared in and out from shallow controlled breathing. The tears once welling in her eyes had dried away proving to Miles they were nothing more than props to influence him and his father. Her cheeks were still colored by embarrassment and anger and her arms quivered with the tension and apprehension of what was clearly to come. She took a step back when Miles lifted the soap in his hand.

“Don’t back away from me,” he said and snapped his fingers. He pointed at the spot on the floor she had stepped from.

Her gaze flickered to his parents. She sucked her lips inward and nibbled on them. He snapped his fingers again and she blinked. If there had been anyplace for her to run to, she surely would have ran, but there was no escape or at least no escape she was willing to risk. She stepped forward and stood her ground before Miles. He held the bar of soap beneath her nostrils. Her eyes watered.

“Pungent isn’t it?” Miles asked. Her nose wrinkled away from the soap. He moved it a little closer. “This is what it takes to wash away the stench of your atrocious language and the rot of your dishonesty. It pains me to do this, but you’ve left me no other choice, have you?”

He pushed the soap against her pursed lips. She pulled back, shaking her head from side to side and moaning her distress. Miles grabbed hold of her chin with his free hand, holding her head in place. He wiggled the soap up and down against her lips, pushing past them to grind the bar against her front teeth.

Mrs. Bennett laid a supportive hand on his shoulder. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

Miles turned his head to his mother. She reached out and took the soap from his hand with a smile. He dropped his hand to his side and stepped back from Jennifer. Mrs. Bennett stepped up to the sink and turned the water on, dousing the soap beneath the stream. She lathered the bar between her hands. Though the soap was no longer near her mouth, Jennifer looked more worried than before as Miles retreated to the other side of the kitchen.

Mrs. Bennett shut the water off and held the bubble-covered bar up for Miles to see. “A little wetness goes a long ways toward making these things work,” she said. “Sort of like sex.”

Lifting the bar of soap toward Jennifer’s lips, Mrs. Bennett said, “Be a good girl now and open wide for me.”

Jennifer’s gaze was glued to the bar of soap, following its slow progress toward her mouth. She shook her head as she had done before and pulled as far back as she could without actually stepping away. Thinking back to his own previous experience with his mother and a bar of soap, Miles couldn’t recall being quite as stubborn and resistant as Jennifer. Of course, he had realized from the start it was inevitable and resistance was only going to pile on extra punishments he wasn’t going to like. Jennifer probably didn’t think there was anything worse they could do to her.

With her free hand, Mrs. Bennett reached up and pinched Jennifer’s nose closed. Jennifer’s eyes grew wide and her cheeks puffed until finally her mouth burst open, sucking in air. Mrs. Bennett shoved the bar into Jennifer’s waiting mouth and let go of her nostrils. Jennifer tried to spit the soap out, but Mrs. Bennett’s hand kept the bar firmly in place. Moans of distress erupted from Jennifer’s throat.

Mrs. Bennett stared into Jennifer’s bulging eyes. “This part isn’t like sex, sweetie. Try not to swallow.”

Jennifer opened her mouth wide and shook her head, attempting to pull back from the soap and the hand holding it. “GAH! Um Saur Eeee!”

“Of course you are, sweetie,” Mrs. Bennett said. She caught a stream of thick white drool dripping from Jennifer’s mouth on her finger and wiped it on Jennifer’s chest to dry. “Now, I want you to bite down and sink your teeth real good into that bar or if you want to keep fighting me, you can go stand out front until your ready to cooperate. Understand?”

Jennifer’s eyes filled with all the nasty expletives she knew and for a moment Miles thought she was going to explode with them. The burning in her eyes and the soap taste permeating her mouth must have changed her mind. Her jaw quivered and then she clamped down on the soap.

Mr. Bennett looked at his watch and touched Miles’ sleeve turning them both away from the scene at the kitchen sink. Keeping his voice low, he said, “I meant to tell you earlier, Mr. Harper is going to be calling us back soon.”

Miles raised an eyebrow and threw a sideways glance at his girlfriend. “About Jennifer?” he asked.

Mr. Bennett shook his head. “Apparently matters escalated with the young woman Julian was disciplining this morning. She walked off the job, pretty much stark naked from what I heard. Mr. Harper is hoping we can help him head off a lawsuit and seeing as this is partially our fault on account of Jennifer, I’ve already said we’d help.”

“I guess Mom has things in hand here,” Miles said, nodding.

Mrs. Bennett let go of the soap and stroked the side of Jennifer’s face. “That’s a good girl. Now, come along, it’s time for you think about all those lies you’ve told and all that nasty language you keep throwing around.”

She took hold of Jennifer’s elbow and gently guided her out of the kitchen and back to the living room. Miles and Mr. Bennett followed and watched for a moment while Mrs. Bennett parked Jennifer on the opposite side of the fireplace from Rachel, only Jennifer was facing the room at large. Jennifer twitched from side to side and tried to step away from the fireplace, but Mrs. Bennett held her in place with a stern finger wagging in the air between them.

Mrs. Bennett said, “I’m sure you don’t much care to have the fire toasting your spanked buns, but this really wouldn’t be punishment if you were enjoying yourself. Now if you stand still and behave yourself for the next fifteen minutes, I might just let you go back to the kitchen and rinse your mouth out. If not, the days got plenty more hours left in it.”

The ringing of the office phone echoed from outside the living room. Miles looked at his father, weary of the morning’s activities, and said, “It sure never rains but it pours.” Mr. Bennett nodded agreement and together, father and son rushed toward the home office.

The Winter Storm, Part 8

“Explain to me again,” Rachel said, standing beside her little brother’s bed, “why exactly can’t Richard and Michelle change their own sheets?” She rolled the dirty sheets into a ball and tossed them across the room to land in a puddle beside the open doorway.

Her mother stood in the doorway, holding the stack of clean sheets and watching Rachel with a scrutinous eye. “They can,” she said, stepping into the room and dropping the clean sheets on the center of the barren mattress, “but you’re doing it because I said so. If you don’t like it, you can always try behaving yourself in the future.”

Rachel threw a sour look in her mother’s direction, but turned her attention to the sheets before her mother could decide to do something about it. Tucking the new sheets tight into the corners, Rachel moved around the bed, making a show of kicking aside the collected mess of dirty clothes, loose papers and assorted trash lying on the floor. She jumped catching movement in the corner of her eye, but relaxed when she realized her mother was simply taking a moment to look out the window at the street below.

“Looks like the storm is letting up,” Mrs. Bennett said.

Thunder rattled the window, but in its aftermath the morning’s constant pelter of raindrops on the roof was absent. Rachel joined her mother at the window, looking out at the street below. The mail truck pulled up to the curb in front of the house and the mailman reached out, shoving a plastic wrapped pack of mail into the box.

“Perfect timing,” Mrs. Bennett said as the truck moved up the street. “Finish up with the bed and you can go fetch the mail. If you hurry, you might even avoid the rain.”

Rachel gestured at herself calling attention to her lack of outdoor attire. She was wearing nothing more than her bra and panties. “I’m not going outside like this.”

Mrs. Bennett turned, facing Rachel fully in a hands on hips pose. “Sooner or later you’re going to realize arguing with your father and me when you’re already in trouble only gets you in more of it. But you can take some pleasure in being right,” she said, nodding her head. “because you won’t be going out in your bra and panties. You can go in just your panties. Take your bra off and hand it over.” She held her hand out in the space between them.

Rachel’s eyes popped at her mother. “Mom!”

Mrs. Bennett lowered her chin a notch and stared straight into Rachel’s panicked eyes. “I’m going to count to three and if I’m not holding your bra in my hand, you’ll be taking your panties off too and I promise, you’ll still be going out to get the mail. One.”

Rachel gaped at her mother like a fish drowning in the air. She blinked and looked down, no longer able to meet her mother’s gaze. The whole day was going from bad to worse and yet it seemed her other plans were going perfectly right. “It’s not fair.”

“Two,” Mrs. Bennett said.

Reaching behind her, Rachel unfastened the clips holding her bra in place. It slid down her arms into her hands, leaving her untanned bosom exposed. She swung the bra in the air toward her mother’s hand and let it go. Her mother held it dangling from her fingers and Rachel crossed her arms over her chest, hiding her stiffening nipples from view. An angry blush colored her cheeks.

“If you think you’re going to stand around covering yourself all weekend, you’ve got another thing coming, young lady,” Mrs. Bennett said. She pointed at the bed. “Now, finish making the bed and come along. This lull won’t last all day and the mail isn’t going to fetch itself.”

Rachel stomped around the bed to the pillows laying on the floor. She fluffed them with anger and slapped them down against the headboard. Her shaking hands grabbed hold of the comforter lying at the foot of the bed and she pulled it up into place, tucking the pillows beneath it at the headboard. Her mother picked up the pile of dirty sheets from beside the door and beckoned Rachel to follow her out of Richard’s room and down the stairs. They stopped on the tile floor leading to the front door.

“Mom,” Rachel said, a pleading tone dominating her voice, “someone might see me.”

The left corner of Mrs. Bennett’s mouth turned up in a half-smile. “Despite what you might think, the embarrassment won’t kill you.”

Rachel dragged her feet on the cold floor and grasped hold of the doorknob, facing the inevitable. “No, but the pneumonia might.”

Mrs. Bennett rolled her eyes. “Well then I suppose you’ll just have to hurry and if you like, you can spend fifteen minutes in the corner next to the fireplace when you get back.”

“What I’d like a full set of clothes,” Rachel said.

Mrs. Bennett said, “You should have thought of that earlier. Now stop wasting time and go get the mail or would you like to take your panties off first?”

Rachel turned the doorknob and pulled the door open without gracing her mother with a response. She stepped outside and shivered as the cold air raised goosebumps on her skin. In a futile bid for warmth and modesty, she wrapped her arms over her breasts and leaned her head forward, beyond the edges of the entryway alcove. There was an entire neighborhood to see, but all she could hear was the rustle of the trees, blowing in the wind.

Mrs. Bennett said, “By the looks of it, I’d say the rain will be back any minute so, if I were you, I wouldn’t waste time trying to avoid being seen. But it’s up to you, just know you aren’t coming back in without the mail.”

Rachel took another step forward on the entry step and pretended to ignore her mother. The front door closed behind her and a moment later she heard the click of the deadbolt. She spun around, staring at the door and blinking away in disbelief. She reached out to the doorknob and found it was indeed locked. It wasn’t that it made a real difference in what she had to do, but the act was like a slap in the face. She turned back to the outside world and sniffed back tears.

She moved to the edge of the entry step, keeping her arms folded over her naked chest. The shadow of the alcove still hid her from the neighborhood, or at least she hoped it did as she turned her head to the left and the right, peering out at the street. Her ears twitched at the sounds of draining water, running off the roof and spilling into the gutters. Clouds of her frosty breath floated away from her hiding spot as she watched and listened for any signs of potential spectators. All she could detect was the hum of traffic from the main road down the hill and beyond the gates of the neighborhood.

A rumble of thunder sent a nervous shudder through Rachel, leaving her toes tingling on the wet concrete. She raised her head to look across the street at the Sullivan’s house. Her gaze locked on the second story window above the garage where the blind seemed to be moving for a moment. The house was a similar layout to her own and she knew the window belonged to the bedroom of the Sullivan’s twelve year old son. She had babysat for him only a week ago.

Logic told her that the boy was in school, like all boys and girls his age, but the moving blind taunted her with the chance he was home, perhaps sick, perhaps on account of the storm. The reason mattered little in the face of the possibility of being seen by him. He would taunt her with the memory, with the fact that she, unlike him, was still subject to childish, humiliating punishments.

Clearing her fears from her vision, she looked at the window again. If there had been any movement at all, there was no more. She tried to convince herself it was just nerves and imagination. The wind gusted into the alcove, whipping her hair against the wood paneled wall and she shivered.

Another glance up and down the street convinced her she was as alone or at the very least, not being openly watched. She stepped down from the entry alcove and onto the open path leading to the driveway. The standing sheen of water on the path sent chills up her feet and legs. She splashed her way along the concrete, keeping her shoulders hunched down and her freezing breasts covered with her folded arms. At the driveway, she looked up and down the street, sparing a glance at the houses across the street as well and determined she was still unwatched.

She padded halfway down the driveway, keeping her eyes darting around the neighborhood. The mailbox was only a dozen steps away, but the sky opened up, dropping a burst of hard rain upon her. She yelped at the sudden cold, drenching her naked skin from head to toe. Panic and desperation sent her running back up the driveway to hide beneath the eaves. The rain fell harder, splattering her feet and legs as it pelted the driveway and the temperature seemed to drop, evidenced by the larger clouds of her breath hovering in the air beside the dark brown of the garage door.

The rain settled into a steady stream, pouring down from the charcoal clouds hanging in the sky. Rachel squeezed herself against the garage door as if her mere proximity to it would hide her from view. She remained hunched with her arms wrapped around her while her eyes focused on the mailbox, so close and yet far, far away. A flicker of light in her periphery grabbed her attention and she turned her head toward the source. Across the street to the left, a light had snapped on inside the living room of the Jacob’s house.

Mr. Jacob was commonly known as the neighborhood grouch. He walked the neighborhood on a nearly daily basis with a notepad and pen, jotting down every menial association violation he could spot. At the monthly meetings he would send his notes along with recommendations on fines or other punitive measures he thought were fair. To say he was hated by his neighbors would be a little extreme, but he wasn’t on any of their Christmas lists.

Rachel had a few minor encounters with him in the past, but there was one more serious situation which plagued her mind as she crouched beneath the eaves staring at the light emanating from his living room window. She had been a senior in high school at the time and had just recently passed the state exam and received her driver’s license. It was a warm spring day and she had spent most of it shopping at the local outlets with friends, enjoying her new found freedom.

The trouble came when she was almost home. She hadn’t really allowed herself enough time from leaving the outlets to get back home by the hour her parents were expecting her, but a little lead in her foot helped cure that problem. Mr. Jacob was out on one his daily walks when she had come around the corner onto her street driving a fast 40mph. In her rear view mirror she got to watch him gesturing like a lunatic and anyone outside for a square mile had to hear him shout for her to slow down. She blew him off without so much as finger gestured at him, though the thought crossed her mind.

A few minutes after she had returned home and was already relaxing upstairs in her bedroom, Mr. Jacob rang the bell. Hearing his voice, she had the good sense to creep to the top of the stairs and listen while he scolded her parents for bad parenting skills and letting their wild daughter behind the wheel of something as dangerous as a car. It wasn’t long before Rachel had been called downstairs to explain herself. Naturally, she lied.

Mr. Jacob had the gall to call her a liar straight to her face and even question her parents sanity for taking the word of a hormone impaired teenager over him. Unbelievably, her parents started to sway to his way of thinking after her pointed out something about the likelihood of her saying just about anything to avoid having her panties lowered and her butt spanked like a little girl. Things weren’t looking so good for her immediate future and then the unexpected happened.

Richard showed up on the doorstep fresh from playing ball with his friends. He’d apparently overheard enough to know what was going on and had in fact seen the whole incident because he’d been playing nearby with his friends. The amazing part was that instead of sinking her, he actually saved her butt.

He told their parents that it was in fact Mr. Jacob who was lying and totally over reacting because he’d stepped off the curb right in front of her, making her swerve to avoid him and then had the nerve to swear at her. Their parents sent Mr. Jacob home without a show. After that, she had made sure Richard never wanted for a ride anywhere.

She had all but forgotten the incident, but crouched under the eaves as she was his final words to her on the afternoon came back to haunt her. “One way or another I’ll see justice done and if I have it my way, it’ll be your naked butt getting blistered right out here on the sidewalk for all to see.” Given her current situation, the words seemed a little more like a prophecy than the hollow words of an angry man that she had once dismissed them as being.

Beyond the light in his living room, she could see nothing of Mr. Jacob or his wife. The rain showed no signs of letting up as Rachel looked up and down the street. The buzz of cars on the main road reminded her that the longer she was outside, the more chance there was of someone catching an eyeful of her. She bit her lip and decided there was no point in waiting any longer. Arms wrapped over her breasts and shoulders hunched down, she scurried out into the rain and down to the mailbox.

Keeping her left arm in place to partially hide her boobs, she reached out and flipped down the mailbox door. The mail was stuffed inside and wrapped in a plastic bag, damp with rain and her right hand proved to be insufficient to get a good hold of it. She gave up on covering herself and reached inside with both hands. The wet crunch of wheels rolling over asphalt stopped her cold. A car engine purred in close proximity behind her.

The whir of an electric window rolling down sent panic shooting through her nerves. Open mouthed, she spun toward the source. She recognized Mr. Purdue, the high school librarian from up the street, sitting behind the wheel. His eyes were a little wide as he stared out at her. It took Rachel a moment to follow his gaze to her naked breasts and when she did, she hurriedly wrapped her arms in front of herself once more. Her face blazed hotter and redder than a rocket’s red glare.

“You know,” Mr. Purdue said in his typical relaxed tone, “topless sunbathing is usually more effective when the sun is shining.”

Rachel stared at the empty passenger seat beside Mr. Purdue rather than meeting his amused gaze. “I um... wasn’t... I mean this isn’t... well my parents... what I mean is I’m uh.... well uh.. I’m being uh...”

“Punished?” Mr. Purdue said.

Rachel nodded.

“I figured from the state of your backside,” Mr. Purdue said, causing Rachel to blush even brighter. “The last time I saw you wearing this little with your backside that red was when Principal Newsome put you on litter patrol for skipping classes. Don’t tell me you’ve been up to those same old tricks at college?”

It was another incident she preferred not to recall, but for a moment she couldn’t help picturing herself walking around the school grounds after classes wearing nothing but a netted orange vest and picking up trash with plastic tongs. The vest had left her breasts plainly visible through the netting and the length in the back had left her spanked buttocks cleanly displayed from the back. A half dozen geeky boys had followed her on the rounds for the entire week.

The red in Rachel’s cheeks turned darker as she shook her head. “Why doesn’t anybody see I’ve grown up since those days?” she asked. “It’s like everyone judges me based on the past instead of the present.”

“Obviously you’ve grown up,” Mr. Purdue said as his gaze drifted to Rachel’s arm covered boobs, “but judging by your present situation, I’d have to say you’re as recalcitrant as ever.”

Rachel rolled her eyes as a gust of wind whipped the rain into her like a crashing wave. In the aftermath she shivered and said, “Shouldn’t you be at school?”

“Budget cuts,” Mr. Purdue said. “The library opens late on Fridays these days and I waited a little longer this morning, hoping the storm might let up some for the drive in.”

“Not much chance of that, I think,” Rachel said, looking up into the falling rain.

Mr. Purdue nodded. “Well, I don’t want to keep you. You should probably hurry up and get back inside before you catch cold or someone decides to take your panties down and add more color to your behind.”

Rachel nodded in agreement. Mr. Purdue rolled his window up and she turned to the mailbox. With both hands she reached inside and pulled the stuffed plastic bag of mail free from the box. Mr Purdue pulled away and she shuddered as another gust of wind whipped her hair and chilled her bones. She closed the mailbox and hurried up the drive toward the house.

She stepped into the alcove and out of the rain and heard the sound of another vehicle on the street. Curiosity momentarily overrode embarrassment and she spun her head just in time to watch Miles pull into the driveway. It wasn’t as if she had thought he wouldn’t be coming back, but she had hoped to have been inside and a little less conspicuous when he did. She turned back to the door and rang the bell, hoping her mother would let her in before Miles and Jennifer joined her on the doorstep.

It didn’t happen that way.

“Wow!” Miles said and whistled as he joined her on the doorstep. “I bet if you pulled those panties down the blaze would scare the rainclouds right out of the sky.”

Rachel fought a smile and tilted her head at her brother. “We can try it, but if you lose, you’ll have to spend the weekend naked in my place. Deal?”

Miles chuckled. “Nice try little sis.”

Rachel shrugged and allowed a half-hearted smile for her brother. Miles winked and dug into his pocket for keys. The hollow echo of heels clattering up the walk behind them faded the smile from her lips.

Jennifer said, “I don’t think little is the right word, Miles. She’s obviously grown to big for her britches, not to mention her bra and the rest of her clothes.”

Rachel turned sideways just enough to glare. “At least I didn’t chose my lack of appropriate attire. What’s your excuse? Was there another accident report you needed to flirt your way out of?”

Jennifer’s eyes narrowed and her lips pursed into a frown. Her furrowed brow told Rachel she had struck a nerve and while she was pleased, she also realized she had probably said a little too much in her haste to spit a retort at her brother’s bitchy bimbo. Fortunately, Miles unlocked the door and pushed it open before anymore reckless words were thrown around.

Miles stepped inside and held the door for Jennifer to follow. Looking to Rachel he said, “Sorry, but I’m sure Mom or Dad will let you in when they’re ready.”

Jennifer grabbed the edge of the door and Miles stepped away. Keeping her voice low, Jennifer said, “When I was growing up, we always kept the family bitch on the porch.” She flashed Rachel a catty smile and pushed the door closed.

Rachel fumed at the closed door, her blood boiling even hotter when she heard the snap of the deadbolt. “I bet you spent a lot of time on the porch then.”

Carla in the Corner

Who doesn't love a good short story? They don't take too long to read and they're packed full of the good stuff and, by their very nature, they don't dawdle on the unimportant or irrelevant. Short stories feed us with direct, unfiltered wants, desires, dreams, and fantasies. That's why we love them.

My friend and fellow blogger, Carla from Carla in the Corner, has put together a collection of short stories now available as a downloadable e-book. Her stories tend focus on the F/F with the occasional F/M mixed in for good measure. She has a few stories available on her blog along with picture collections and other tidbits that can give you a nice sense of her writing style and humor.

If you like what you see and would like to support and encourage her efforts, you can purchase her first e-book, a generous collection of spanking-themed short stories, from Lulu.

The Winter Storm, Part 7

Through the steady onslaught of rain and the swish of windshield wipers, Miles spotted Jennifer. She stood on the highest point of a hill surrounded by nothing but grass and mud. Her arms were folded across her chest and she kept her gaze fixed on the flooded intersection below. Miles looked in the direction of her gaze and spotted the upper half of her car peeking out of the town’s newest river.

He swerved onto the wrong side of the road. Traffic was non-existent and the road was clear other than orange striped barricades blocking the way into the flooded intersection. The truck’s headlights illuminated Jennifer’s hill on the left side, water flowed in sheets onto the sidewalk and off into the street draining slowly into a backed up gutter. Miles realized she was oblivious to his arrival. He pulled to a stop next to the curb and honked the horn. She whirled toward him, her long hair slicing through the falling rain like a whip.

Even in the shadow of the storm, Miles could see the annoyed furl of her cheeks. His breath caught in his throat and his heart sent pangs of electricity shooting to his extremities. Her black dress was soaked to her skin. It adhered itself to her every curve like tight leather. For a moment, he forgot he was supposed to be upset with her. She stomped toward the truck, beauty and the beast rolled into one breathtaking body with one bad attitude.

Her march down the hill sent mud flying in every direction. Near the bottom of the hill, just short of the sidewalk, she slid on the slick grass. Her arms waved in the air wildly as she fought for balance. Miles shook himself from his adolescent stupor and grabbed the door handle, thinking only then of getting out to help her. But it was too late. She reached the sidewalk and found her balance without falling.

Secure in her footing, she paused long enough to throw virtual daggers from her eyes into Miles’ skull. He swallowed hard and reminded himself she was the one who had caused her misfortune, not him. He leaned across the compartment and pulled the handle on the passenger door, opening it for her approach. She hopped inside and groaned. With an exaggerated huff she slammed the door and shook her wet hair, sending droplets flying  like indoor rain.

“Nice of you to show,” Jennifer said while squeezing water from her soaked hair onto the center console. “Did you get lost or just drive slower than a fucking snail?”

Miles stared at the glitter of rain falling through the beams of his headlights. He had intended to wait until they were home, until she had a chance to dry off and calm down. If she had only contained her attitude, it would have gone better for her and for him, but that wasn’t Jennifer.  He knew what he had to do and he steeled himself for it. It wasn’t out of anger,  it was because if he let her, she was going to make him angry.

He slipped the transmission into park and stomped on the emergency brake. His fingers moved the wiper switch to off. They squeaked one last time, brushing away the drops on the windshield before disappearing below the top of the hood. He twisted the switch for the headlights, listening to it click twice before the beams faded to darkness.

In his peripheral vision he could see Jennifer watching him with curious eyes. He hit the lever on the back left of the steering wheel and pushed it up and out of his way. His thumb hit the release on his seat belt sending the material zipping back into the door frame and clanking when the buckle hit the stop. He turned in his seat, squaring his shoulders to face the woman he loved.

She stopped wringing the water from her hair and returned his stare. His lips quivered on the verge of words and she spoke before he could. “What’s your fucking problem?”

He sighed at her. His eyes fluttered closed and he took a deep breath, enjoying the honey scent of her perfume. Opening his eyes, he gazed at her, still struck by her rugged, wet-clothing beauty. A hungry smile licked his lips and he opened his arms to her, offering solace and a truce.

She looked into his eyes and inhaled the musky air of his aftershave. The corners of her scarlet lips turned upward, hinting of a victory smile. She slipped into his arms, pressing her hips into the console between their seats. Her breath warmed his stiff shirt collar and she tickled his naked neck with her tongue. He chuckled and she rubbed her wet bosom against his dry shirt. Her hands felt their way up his torso, stopping to massage his firm pecs. She sighed and nestled her head on his shoulder.

Miles cradled her in his arms. She stared up at him and he leaned down, pressing his lustful lips against hers. He basked in the momentary satisfaction. Her happiness was almost enough to change his mind. His arms trembled with indecision. A fog of confusion drifted into her upward staring eyes. He knew the moment was at hand, it was then or never. He twisted her in his arms, pinning her face-down torso to his lap with his left arm. His right hand rested on her newly upturned rump, raised to a convenient height by the presence of the center console beneath her gyrating hips.

“Hey!” Jennifer said, her voice muffled by the close quarters of his pant leg and the car door. “Just cause I let you hold me, doesn’t mean I’m in the mood for a five dollar foot long.”

Miles slipped his hand down her legs until it reached the hem of her dress. His fingers pinched the drenched fabric and began the slow process of inching it up her legs and over her bottom. She struggled to reach behind herself, but found her arms were trapped between his body, the car door, and the steering wheel. She kicked against the seat and the passenger door. He peeled the dress up her body, scrunching it like an accordion above her hips until her legs were bared and her panties were fully exposed.

Miles stared at the exposed skin, perched on his center console. Her choice of black lace panties were provocative, inappropriate and exactly what he had expected. Beneath the lace, shining into his eyes, was something he had not expected and for a moment all he could do was stare. Glistening, red flesh swelled in contrast with the black containing it. He brushed his fingers over warm buttocks and lace undergarment. She flinched, contracting the muscles and hardening her soft, fiery globes.

“Funny,” he said, gently patting her bottom, “I don’t recall your backside looking quite like this when I left this morning.”

Jennifer said, “This isn’t funny. Let me up and take me home.”

Miles rested both his hands on the middle of her back. “Not until I get some answers.”

She tried futilely to push herself upright. “Don’t fucking start with me. If you weren’t so obsessed with making Daddy proud, I wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“And what mess is that?” he asked.

“Take a fucking guess,” she said, attempting to twist free of his hold.

Miles patted her bottom, until she laid still again. “Would it have anything to do with the redness back here?”

“Wow,” she said, crooking her head to look up at him and roll her eyes, “you must be a fucking genius.”

He raised his hand and solidly spanked each butt cheek once. “I want answers, not attitude.”

“I want a million dollars and a Porsche,” she said. “Sometimes, you just have to settle for what you can get.”

“Jennifer,” Miles said, staring into her eyes, “you can either tell me what’s been going on now, or you can tell me after I spank your bottom ten degrees hotter. It’s your choice.”

She fluttered her eyelashes. He raised his hand and delivered a flurry of spanks to her buttocks. Her eyes shot open wide and she squealed. He continued to spank as she kicked and squirmed.

“Alright, alright, alright, alright,” she said until he paused again. “I made a deal and took a spanking to keep you and your father from finding out I was behind in delivering the last batch of updates to Raven’s Gym.”

Miles delivered another half dozen spanks. “Now don’t you wish you had just told me in the first place?”

She shook her head. “Can we go home now?”

“Sure,” he said, “just as soon as you tell me what you are doing here.  Raven’s Gym is on the other side of town and this isn’t exactly on the way home.”

“I was on my way to Harper and Son,” she said.

Miles shook his head and raised his hand, delivering another round of spanks that left her squirming and breathless. “Wrong answer,” he said, “this isn’t even on the long way around. Do you want to try the truth or should I take your panties down?”

“I got turned around with all the fucking road closures and that’s the fucking truth whether you believe it or not,” she said.

“Alright, maybe I believe you,” he said, laying on a few slow swats with a lot of smack and wobble, “but that still leaves the big question. What have you been doing that’s gotten you so far behind in your work?”

She weathered his spanks in silence leaving Miles to wonder if she heard his question at all. The tension in her body assured him otherwise though, and as it grew in intensity, he determined it was the real piece of information she wanted to keep hidden. He increased the speed of his spanks and waited for the revelation to spill from her lips.

The words burst out from her in a rush. “I was trying to cover up for Rachel, but it got to be too much and I haven’t been able to get things under control since.”

“Rachel was fired a month ago,” Miles said, resting his spanking hand on her hot bottom.

“And I was covering for her for a month before that. I’ve been behind all that time and it’s just now catching up with me,” she said.

“You should have come to me,” he said.

“You were already mad at me over getting her fired,” Jennifer said, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. “How could I possibly tell you I was behind in my work because of her too?”

“I was not mad at you,” Miles said. His hold on her softened. “Rachel is the source of her own problems, she always has been. Dad and I don’t blame you.”

Jennifer looked up into his eyes. “You really aren’t mad?”

He shook his head. “I’m disappointed you didn’t tell me before you ended up getting a sore backside from a client, but I’m not mad.”

“Can we go home now?” she asked with hopeful eyes.

“Just as soon as we make sure you never lie or hide things from me again,” Miles said.

“I won’t,” she said.

Miles slapped his hand down on her buttocks. “I want to be certain.”

The spanking had her burying her head against his leg in seconds. She kicked and squirmed. Her breath turned ragged under the constant slapping of his hand. Sniffles echoed up from the floorboard. Her buttocks grew hotter with every smack of his open palm. He watched the tension fade from her body and admired the undulating waves rippling beneath her flesh in response to every impact of his palm.

She surrendered to the moment, to the spanking, to him.

He stopped the spanking. His hand tingled on the verge of numbness and he knew it was enough. Her sniffles were muffled by the seat and car door, but he knew the sounds of sincerity wracking from her lungs. He lifted her gently upward and she twisted wrapping her arms around his neck. She rested her head on his shoulder and he wiped away the tears on her cheeks with a brush of his finger. He kissed her cheek.

Her lips and eyes pouted. “That really hurt,” she said.

He whispered in her ear. “It was supposed to.”

“Meanie,” she said and punched his chest with a closed fist and so little force that he barely felt it.

He smiled and kissed her again. “Does that mean you forgive me?”

“No,” she said without hesitation.

Miles lifted her from his chest and sat her properly into her own seat. Properly that is with the exception of tugging her dress back down. If she cared, she showed no sign of it on her face. He reached across her and pulled the seat belt to fasten her securely in place. She turned her head away from him and stared out the window.

A knock on Miles’ window startled them both. Outside in the rain, a heavy set man in a police uniform was leaning down and looking inside the truck. Jennifer blushed dark red and grabbed at the hem of her dress, trying to pull it down past her panties. It was a nearly impossible task with the seat belt in place.

Miles rolled his window down. “Morning officer. Is there a problem?”

The man glanced down at himself before looking back to Miles with a sloppy smile on his face. “I’m not an officer, just with traffic enforcement. The names Brody,” he said and offered his hand to Miles. “We’ve got flooded streets all over town and even the locals are getting turned around. I was just checking to see if you and lady here were in need of assistance?”

Miles shook Brody’s hand and glanced at Jennifer. She was still struggling with the hem of her dress while glaring daggers in Brody’s direction. Miles raised an eyebrow, but she wasn’t paying attention to him. He turned back to Brody.

“I know my way around,” Miles said. He nodded his head toward the flooded intersection. “That’s my girlfriend’s car floating down there. We were just having a little discussion before heading home.”

Brody leaned inside the truck enough to get his forehead out of the rain. His eyes wandered to Jennifer’s exposed panties and his lips hung open in a loose grin. She blocked his view with her hands, but he kept looking anyway. He said, “If I were a betting man, I’d say you learned your lesson today. Am I right little lady or am I right?”

Jennifer’s red face grew darker and her lips puckered in an angry frown. Miles expected a bit of venom to spew from her lips, in fact, he was almost looking forward to hearing it. Instead, she glared in uncharacteristic silence, until Brody winked at her and pulled his head back out of the truck.

Brody grinned at Miles. “Well don’t let me keep you out here. It’s probably best if you head on home and stay there cause what I’m hearing is the real storm hasn’t even hit yet. Can’t quite imagine how bad it’s going to get.”

Miles nodded. “Yeah, home sounds like a good idea.”

Brody’s gaze lingered on Jennifer as Miles rolled up the window. The storm continued to rage outside. A bolt of lightning lit the sky, giving the clouds an eerie platinum glow. The patter of falling rain slipped into silence and the truck reverberated in tune with the roar of thunder rolling off the clouds. Miles kept his eyes on Brody until the man finally turned and walked away.

Turning to Jennifer, he asked, “Do you know that guy?”

She shook her head and looked out her window. “I think he might have gone to my high school.”

“But you’re not sure?” he asked.

Jennifer shrugged. “He looked a little familiar, that’s all.”

“He seemed a little odd,” Miles said.

Jennifer stared out her window. He shook his head, knowing she was keeping something from him. Whatever it was, he decided to pursue it later and turned his attention back to the truck. The steering wheel dropped back into place with a thunk under the weight of his hands. He flipped on the headlights and revved the engine before slipping the transmission into drive.

With a quick glance  in his mirrors and at Jennifer, he pulled away from the curb and turned the truck around to head back the way he had come. The rain had stopped, but his instincts told him Brody was right about the storm;  It was far from over and the worst of it remained ahead.

“You up for seeing my father?” he asked.

She remained silent, staring out the passenger window.

He said, “Cause we should really figure out what were going to do about the Harpers.”

She looked back toward him. “There’s nothing to figure out. I’m not going to let that bastard Julian lay a hand on me and if I have to quit to be sure of it, then I quit.”