Good Implement Hunting

Some places are just made for spanking. This small apartment layout is an excellent example and even before I decided to lay out a few extra implements, it was already full of possibilities. The layout belongs to a story environment for a small isolated and private university where plenty of authority figures will wield many of the implements found in the image above (for the purpose of correcting naughty schoolgirls, of course, because they would not do it for personal pleasure or enjoyment). Two girls would live in the apartment, treated in most respects as a dorm room, although I doubt they would keep such a convenient collection of implements so easily accessible to any visitors who might happen to stop for a visit or room inspection. I'm a little behind in finishing the first group of stories for this series, but I expect to have them ready for you in the somewhat near future.

In the meantime, why not have a little fun?

How many spanking or spanking related goodies do you see? Can you find the 20 disciplinary tools / implements (The truly devious may even find a few more) ready for use inside the apartment?

Leave a comment listing all the goodies you found and on Friday, I'll post up the answer key and congratulate those with the most interesting and complete lists.

HINT: You'll probably have an easier time finding things if you click on the image to open it up larger.

The Jade Runner, Part 12

Kit took a deep breath and considered her options. She wasn’t willing to allow Tara to stay behind. “We can help each other,” she said. “Whatever your life was yesterday, it’s gone now and neither you nor I can change that, but I can offer you a tomorrow. Maybe, like me, you want to expose LX for what they are to the galaxy or maybe you want to forget they ever existed. Either way, coming with me now gives you the chance to make the choice you want to make.”

“I have a life here,” Tara said. She looked out into the dark streets searching for something familiar.

Kit softened her voice and looked at the ground. “You had a life.” She raised her eyes to meet Tara’s. “If you have someone here who will help you, who can still see you for the person you are and not the criminal that was locked in the pillory, then you have a reason to stay, but if not, give me a chance to help you.”

Tara suppressed welling tears and locked her jaw. “What’s in it for you?”

“Redemption,” Kit said. “Now, I have to go. Come or stay? The choice is now.”

Kit walked out the alcove and paused in the street. She held her breath hoping to hear the sound of footsteps following her. When she thought it was certain Tara wasn’t coming a hand touched her shoulder. Kit spun to see Tara standing behind her.

Tara said, “Alright, I’m coming.”

Kit smiled. They rushed down the street toward the escalators that would take them to the Entertainment sector’s sub-level. There were loading docks, meant for supply deliveries, but in the evening hours as it was, the docks would be mostly empty. Kit had arranged to meet Quinn and hopefully her ship there, so long as nothing had gone wrong. Tara kept pace with Kit despite her physical exhaustion for having stood in one place for a full day and having not slept in nearly two days.

Just as they reached the escalator an energy bolt exploded on the handrail. Kit and Tara tumbled on the stairs nearly falling halfway toward the bottom before catching themselves on the moving steps. Kit pulled her pistol out and twisted her body in order to view the escalator’s top landing. Even in the dim lighting Kit recognized the face at the top; Red headed bimbo with a pistol. Kit aimed and fired.

The red head dove to the side, firing a shot of her own in Kit’s direction. The energy bolt missing, fizzling instead on the stair just above her head. Kit jumped to her feet, pulling Tara with her. They ran the short distance remaining to the lower level and turned the corner on the escalator just in time to miss another energy bolt exploding on the landing.

“I think you forgot to tell me something,” Tara shouted as they ran.

Kit weaved around a support pillar just as another shot hit the pillar. She glanced at Tara, relieved to see her keeping up and relatively unharmed. “She thinks I have something of hers.”

“Do you?” Tara asked, as they slipped around a corner that kept them out of line of sight from the red head.

“No,” Kit said, “not that she cares and it probably doesn’t help that I made her look bad in front of her subordinates earlier today.”

They kept running weaving around as many corners as they could and still stay on track for the loading docks. Behind them, the red head kept coming as well, firing bolts of energy anytime she even caught a glimpse of them. Kit didn’t spend much time thinking about it but, she realized the lack of authorities swarming the area meant whoever the red head’s boss was, he had a lot of power and influence.

The roar of ship thrusters refocused Kit’s attention. A glimpse beyond the end of the sub-platform revealed the Griffinscape moving into position for their rendezvous. Kit grabbed Tara’s arm and pulled her in the direction of the correct dock. They slipped through the arched doorway as another bolt from the red head’s pistol exploded nearby.

Quinn stood at the top of the ramp watching the sparks fly behind Kit and Tara. He pumped his rifle and aimed at the doorway. As Kit and Tara reached the ramp, he fired a blast over their heads into the doorway, catching the red head as she turned the corner. The wave of force hurled her back through the doorway and into the steel wall eight feet behind it.

The three rode the elevator to the Griffinscape’s control deck, making quick introductions. On the fourth floor, Kit exited the elevator first, leaving Quinn to tend to Tara. She rushed to the helm controls and pushed Rex out of the way. His eyes said he was annoyed, but he took the co-pilot’s seat without a word. Kit piloted the ship out of the loading dock and swerved into a quick ascent as soon the ship cleared the traffic zones of the city.

Upon breaking orbit, Kit turned to Rex. “Where are we headed?”

“Rasa,” he said.

Kit raised an eyebrow. “Never heard of it.”

Rex nodded. “It’s only been colonized about a hundred years. They got their first gateway just three years ago.”

Kit relaxed in the pilot’s chair. A long journey wasn’t what she had in mind, but it was better than sticking around. “So it’s remote,” she said.

“Yeah, but not too bad. Take the gate to the Barfora system and we can get to Rasa from there,” Rex said.

Kit nodded and set course for the appropriate gate orbiting the planet. There weren’t any customs checkpoints for going to Barfora and that would make things simple. Of course, it also made her wonder what exactly they were transporting. She should have asked before, but it hadn’t seemed important at the time. The Griffinscape had privateer registry and Rex called himself a privateer. His personality fit a different profile though and all the facts were pointing toward one likely conclusion; Rex Baxter was a smuggler and Kit was about to become one.

The Sore Loser

Her clothing laid in a pile on the floor and her arms were crossed in front of her naked chest. She frowned at her opponent, standing on the opposite side of the pool table. He still held a cue stick in his hand, the butt resting on the toe of his polished black boot while he chalked the tip. She huffed indignation in his general direction. All things considered, she found his lack of interest rude.

“Don’t pout,” he said.

Her tongue pressed against the inside of her cheek for the briefest of seconds. “You cheated,” she said.

“We had a deal.” He laid the chalk cube on the edge of the table before focusing his gaze on her. “You lost.”

Her eyes flicked to the partially drawn shade and the afternoon sun glistening in through the window. Parked cars filled the street in front of the house, but there appeared to be no one in the immediate vicinity. “It wasn’t a fair bet.”

“You shouldn’t gamble,” he said, “if you’re not willing to accept the consequences of losing.”

She frowned at him. “I didn’t lose.”

He took carefully measured steps around the table, closing the distance between them until the table no longer hindered his view of her naked body. “Then why are you naked?”

She cocked her head at him. “You’re the one who told me to strip.”

His eyes laughed. “Do you always do everything you’re told?”

“Like you were going to just give me my car keys and let me leave if I refused,” she said.

“There are consequences to the choices we make,” he said.

She shook her head at him. “Just get it over with.”

“Alright,” he said and tapped the blue felt of the table with the tip of his cue stick, “lay flat.”

Her eyes rolled toward the ceiling and she sighed. She placed her palms flat on the table’s edge and pushed herself upward, kneeling on the edge of the table. A moment later she eased herself down on the blue felt, shepherding the majority of loose balls in front of her and out of the way.

He laid his cue stick on the felt next to her. His steady fingers unfastened his belt buckle and he pulled the wide leather free of his pant loops with a fast and firm tug. The leather folded easily in half and he took position beside the table in easy reach of her bare buttocks. He smiled to himself admiring the soft roundness rising up from his pool table like a pair of milky white hills.

“This will sting,” he said. “Try not to kick my table.”

She exaggerated a yawn. “Maybe I should take a nap while you prepare yourself.”

He flicked the belt through the air, zinging it down against her cheeks. The sound of the impact fell flat with more thud than snap. Her buttocks bounced in the aftermath and a single red stripe rose up to decorate their central peaks. He flicked the belt again and this time it impacted with a loud, satisfying snap. A second red stripe rose parallel to the first, only brighter.

She gasped and blinked back tears stinging at her eyes.

The belt flashed through the air and snapped against her buttocks ten more times before he stopped. Each lash of the folded leather bit sharper into her fleshy bottom and bounced it harder. The red stripes overlapped each other until the central whole of her buttocks appeared as one wide stripe of redness. She kept her legs still and stayed down on the blue felt. The tears remained dammed in her eyes.

He ran his fingers through her long hair and bent down to kiss her soft cheek. “You can take that nap now,” he said, “if you like.”

She kept her lips flat, but her eyes were full of happy mischief. “Maybe I will, though it seems no matter what I do on this pool table, you always beat me.”

He laughed. “I can’t help it,” he said, “you’re such a good sore loser.”

A Sore Loser

Was it
something she said
or
something she did
that got her in this position?

The Jade Runner, Part 11

The day past slowly. Kit and Quinn explored the ship without extra eyes looking over their shoulders and became familiar with the layout and controls. Once satisfied the ship was ready for a trip, they established a plan of action for Rex’s return. Neither trusted the man or his intentions. For Kit it was less about making money and more about having a legitimate reason, one that would not draw the wrong kind of attention, for leaving.

Rex arrived on scheduled. “Ready to go?” he asked walking up the ramp.

Kit met him halfway down the ramp. “Quinn’s up top,” she said. “The two of you will pick up the cargo.”

Confusion spread across his face. “Where are you going?”

Kit contemplated telling him. Her intentions were not a secret and even if they were, it wasn’t the kind of secret she could keep for very long. The biggest reason for not telling him was simply he had no need to know. Kit decided on partial disclosure. “I’m meeting someone I hope will join my crew.”

Rex shook his head. “The three of us can handle the job.”

“I’m sure we can,” Kit said.

“Then why add another person into the mix?” Rex asked. He lifted his hat and wiped a thin sheen of sweat off his forehead. “Extra people usually just means extra trouble.”

Kit squared herself to Rex. “The Griffinscape is my ship now.”

He nodded though his eyes clearly disliked the reminder.

“That means I’ll run the ship anyway I like,” Kit said, “and I’m not going to debate it with you. If you don’t like my methods, nobody is making you stick around.”

She didn’t wait around for a response. Kit walked out of the hangar while the Griffinscape’s engines roared to life. The possibility that Quinn and Rex were playing her for a fool and leaving without her, tickled the back of her thoughts along with her sister’s voice taunting her with pearls of hard-learned wisdom. If only Jade had listened to her own advice, she might still be around.

Kit took her time arriving at the entertainment sector. She did not want to miss Tara’s release, but she equally didn’t want to arrive early enough to see her final swats delivered. On the way there, she stopped in a small clothing shop. Tara would need some clothes and there wasn’t going to be much time after her release before they needed to meet up with Quinn and Rex, provided of course that they showed up. Kit pushed aside her lingering doubts. Make a decision and see it through, she told herself.

Tara was still in the pillory when Kit entered the square. The Punisher stood near Tara’s buttocks, paddle held firm in his big hands. Kit suppressed the urge to interfere. Tara’s backside sported bruises and shined a polished red. The spectators were many and gathered to watch from every imaginable angle. Tara no longer bothered with protests or claims of innocence. She grunted at the impact of the paddle, but her body was limp. Tara had surrendered to the inevitable.

The realization evoked a memory in Kit. She had just entered the Academy and had failed her first test. The Academy designed things that way. It was expected for students to fail because someone had figured out that failure taught lessons success never could. Kit hadn’t understood at the time. She’d raged against the unfairness and if not for Jade, she might have quit right then. Jade had told her; You can’t fight a storm, you either ride it or get buried by it. Don’t get buried by it.

Tara was riding her storm. Kit was determined to ride it with her.

The Punisher laid on the last swat. The crack of the paddle boomed like thunder in the square. Its force rippled through Tara, shuddering her body from end to end. She moaned, undoubtedly unaware it was the last. The Punisher walked away with his paddle clapping against his leg. As soon as he was gone, the guards unlocked the restraints on Tara’s legs and then opened the pillory, freeing her. She collapsed to the ground, arms wrapping around her naked body. The guards turned and left.

Kit moved in next to Tara before anyone else could get close. The crowd always enjoyed adding humiliation to a recently freed prisoner as if their pathetic attempts could make the experience any worse than it had already been. Kit pulled her pistol out and waved it at the looming crowd. She said, “Get lost or get shot. It’s up to you.”

The crowd dispersed. Kit draped a long coat she’d bought over Tara’s shoulders and helped her to her feet. With Tara leaning heavily on Kit, they left the square and found a quiet alcove out of the immediate sight of the general public. Kit pulled a set of clothes out of her shopping bag and handed them to Tara.

Suspicion emanated from Tara’s eyes as she looked at Kit. “Who are you?”

“I’m Kit.”

“What do you want?” Tara asked, taking the clothes. She immediately went about the business of dressing.

“I want to help,” Kit said.

“Why?” Tara asked.

It was too early for the truth. Kit needed Tara to trust her enough to allow her to help. If Tara knew the truth right then, she’d probably want to get as far away as she could and that wasn’t going to help either of them.

Kit said, “Because I know the evil things LX does and I believed you when you said you were innocent.”

Tara wiped the remnants of tears from her eyes and laughed. It was the kind of laugh that said nothing was fun or funny. “Everyone ever stuck in one of those damned thing is innocent. What makes you think I’m any different?”

“Like I said, I know about LX,” Kit said.

“So they’ve done this before?” Tara asked. “To you? Or to someone you cared about?”

“We don’t have time to discuss my story right now,” Kit said.

“Seems I’ve got nothing but time,” Tara said. She stood up and leaned against the wall. Her hands reached behind her trying to massage the discomfort out of her buttocks beneath the skirt she’d just put on.

“I’ve got a ship,” Kit said, resting a supportive hand on Tara shoulder. “It’s picking up cargo and we’ve got to rendezvous with it in a few minutes.”

Tara said, “Look I appreciate the clothes and you getting me out of that square, but you’re barely more than a kid. You don’t need my troubles dragging you down.”