Friday, September 14, 2012

Fit to be Spanked


Nicole’s eyes popped in the direction of the narrow hall leading into the fitting room. The sound had definitely been coming from within. She gasped and her face flushed, embarrassed for the young woman with her naked butt thrust into the air. The other woman, the one wielding the ping-pong-shaped paddle, wore a name tag on her white blouse that read, Karen. She paused with the paddle raised high and smiled toward Nicole and her mother.
Karen said, “I’ll be with you in just a minute.” She refocused her attention on the bent girl and delivered the paddle with a resounding pop.
Nicole blinked in sync with the impact.
The bent girl emitted a little cry of discomfort. She lifted her hands from the tops of her black pumps, reaching as high as the back of knees. Her long legs bent and straightened while her dangling blonde hair swept over the carpet. She returned her fingertips to the pointed toes of her shoes. “I’m sorry,” she said.
Nicole tilted her head. Even she heard the attitude in the voice. More demand than apology. The bent girl’s face burned a brighter red than her bottom. Nicole imagined there was more outrage than pain coursing through the girl. Nicole glanced toward her mother, questions spinning around in her head. Was the punishment just or unjust? What did the girl do to deserve a spanking?
Her mother watched the scene, arms folded across her chest. She walked the few steps to the edge of the hallway. She spoke with the same loud voice she used at home when scolding Nicole. “That didn’t sound very sincere.”
Karen nodded. “Thank you. I can’t believe the attitude of the girls these days. No respect for authority. No respect for themselves.” She swung the paddle twice enhancing the pinkness covering the bent girl’s buttocks.
“My daughter and I were just discussing the very same,” Nicole’s mother said. “I couldn’t agree more.”
Nicole timidly walked and stood beside her mother. She could feel Karen scrutinizing her. Nicole quietly cleared her throat. Curiosity made her brave. “What did she do?”
“Do?” Karen asked. She slapped the paddle against the bent girl’s butt. “Why she did absolutely nothing. Isn’t that right, Miranda?” She swung the paddle.
“Ow!” replied Miranda. Her butt quivered and her knees bent and straightened. She sniffled.
Nicole watched Miranda’s buttocks glow redder.
Karen swung the paddle with force. “She didn’t sort the racks.”
The paddle popped against Miranda’s buttocks eliciting another, “Ow!”
“She didn’t clean out the fitting rooms.” Karen slapped the paddle against Miranda’s pulsating red butt.
Miranda grabbed at her butt, a sob racked her chest and sent a convulsion through her body.
Karen raised her voice. “Hands!”
Miranda sniffled. She resumed position touching the toes of her pumps with her fingertips. Her white top slipped, exposing her lower back and tummy. Her voice found contriteness. “I’m sorry. Please.”
Karen swung the paddle. “She didn’t help the customers.” The paddle popped against the red, naked buttocks. “And then she had the audacity to spew attitude at me when I confronted her about it.” She delivered a flurry of ten echoing, hard spanks.
Miranda sobbed. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
Karen stepped back and straightened her stance. “Stand up, hands on your head and plant your nose against the center of the far wall.”
Tears streaming down her face, Miranda straightened, interlaced her fingers on the back of her head and marched quickly to the far wall of the hallway. She sniffled, pressing her nose against the white wall. Nicole thought her butt seemed to glow even brighter against the sharp contrast. Miranda’s entire body trembled.
Karen waved the tip of the paddle at Miranda’s back. “Don’t even think about moving until I tell you. Understood?”
Miranda sniffled. “Yes, Mrs. Humphrey.”
Karen turned her attention toward Nicole and her mother with a smile on her face and the paddle still firmly held in her right hand. “Now, how can I help you?”
Nicole’s mother smiled. She lifted the outfits they had collected in the store. “My daughter needs to try some things on.”
Karen gestured down the length of the hall at the fitting room stalls. “The rooms are all available. Take your pick.”
Nicole’s mother nodded. “Thank you.” She fixed her gaze on Nicole. “If my daughter’s attitude isn’t significantly improved over a few moments ago, I might need to borrow your paddle also.”
Nicole gasped.
Karen’s eyes twinkled. “I’ll have it up at the register. Just send the girl to fetch it.” She walked out of the hallway.
Nicole bit her lip, cheeks flushed red. She reached out toward the outfits in her mother’s hand.
Her mother held them an extra moment. She nodded toward the bare bottomed, Miranda against the wall. “Give me the tiniest bit of attitude and you’ll be fetching Mrs. Humphrey’s paddle in your bra and panties. Is that understood?”
Nicole took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes, Mom.”
Her mother released the garments. “And don’t dally or I might just decide to paddle you for that too.”
Nicole rushed into the nearest fitting room. Her mouth remained open as closed the fitting room door. A hot flush colored her face. Her heart pounded in her chest. Even her ears felt hot. She hung the outfits on the hook and set about getting undressed. Mom was probably bluffing, but it wasn’t worth the risk.

Friday, September 7, 2012

Friday, August 31, 2012

The Stowaway


Penny knew she didn’t belong. She squatted beside the open barrel, controlling her breath and listening. The footsteps grew quieter. They were moving away. A slight vibration in the deck beneath her feet rose up, shuddering the barrel. It struck her elbow. She gasped and held her breath. The footsteps grew louder. They stopped.
“Did you hear that?” a husky male voice asked.
“Here what?” asked the craggily voice of a decidedly older woman.
“It came from over there,” he said.
Two steps closer. Penny squeezed her eyes closed. Her stomach churned, dangerously close to rumbling. She’d ate the last of her traveling bread in the morning. Nothing more than crumbs and crust. If only she could have begged a little more off the kindly baker in town she could have stayed put in the cargo hold. She silently clapped her hand to her mouth and held her breath. Maybe they would go away.
The old woman said, “You’re hearing things. Night on the river does that to you.”
He took another step closer. “Maybe it was a rat.”
“Ain’t no rats never been in my kitchen,” the woman said, voice raised and cracking, “and I be having words with the Captain if you dare say otherwise.”
“I’m not prone to imagining,” he said.
The woman laughed. “You ain’t prone to working either. Come on, we got tables to clean.”
Their footsteps retreated. Penny began breathing again. She lowered her hand down to the deck and leaned back against the wall. Eyes open, she slowly raised up, sliding her back against the wall. Their backs were turned. She looked over the barrel’s lip. Apples. Shiny, red apples. She glanced into the dining hall. Their backs remained turned. She grabbed an apple with each hand, tucked them into her satchel and grabbed two more. They wouldn’t be missed.
“Rat!” The husky male voice declared.
Penny stared into the dining hall, wide eyed. A burly man dressed in a soiled white tank and grease streaked trousers pointed at her. She blinked at him. Fear thudded in her chest.
“That ain’t no rat,” the woman said. “It’s a stowaway. Get her!”
The man ran toward the kitchen. His boots pounded on the deck, rattling the boards. Penny sucked in air and glanced around the kitchen. The way she’d came remained clear. She grabbed a pair of apples and threw them at the running man. The first smacked him in the forehead and the second pegged him in his open mouth. He spit apple and seeds on the deck. He kept coming. She grabbed the barrel and pulled, hoping to tip it over, but the apples were too heavy. Desperate, she braced her hands on the opposite walls of the hallway, swung into the air, kicking the top of the barrel with both her feet. It tip forward, started to tip back and she kicked it again. The barrel tipped completely, crashing to the deck. Apples rolled out and bounced in every direction. Penny turned tail and ran.
Pursued by pounding footsteps, Penny sprinted through the narrow hallways, brushing past well-dressed passengers. Her burly pursuer shouted orders. She ignored him, changing course as often as possible in hope of leaving him confounded and lost. The passengers were either too afraid or too stunned by the disorderly disruption she created on her way. They left her alone and got out of his way. She weaved her way around and found the stairs. Hesitation plagued her. Up or down. Pounding footsteps were getting closer. She descended. He followed.
The stairs only descended so far. With nowhere else left, she bolted from the stairwell back into corridors. They were different than above. Steel, cold, dimly lit and narrower. She ran for the corner and rounded it. Pounding footsteps clanked behind her. At the end of the corridor, an open door with brighter light on the other side awaited. She sprinted for it. Her satchel bounced against her leg.  She glanced behind her. Burly man was coming. She ran faster. If she could get inside, lock the door, maybe she could find another way out. Scurry through the places not meant for people. Hide in the dark. Most days, she disappeared into the shadows without even trying.
She passed through the doorway, slid to a stop bouncing against steel railing. Her fingers gripped frantically at the edge of the door. Burly man was close and getting closer. The door creaked in protest, but it moved. She slammed it closed, pulled the red lever latching it and locking it. Burly man pounded on the door and yelled. His voice was muffled and she could not make out his words, but they were angry and frustrated. She rested her hands on her knees and caught her breath. The lock would hold long enough and she needed a calm, clear head if she expected to find a way out.
Penny straightened and turned around. A tall man stood in her path with his arms crossed in front of his chest. There was no place left for escape. She grabbed at her satchel. He cleared his throat. She grabbed an apple. He grabbed her wrist before she could throw it.
He said, “Hold up there lassie.”
She let him take the apple and pulled her wrist free. “I’m not a dog.”
He smiled. “Aye, I can see that. Judging by the pair of bumps under your blouse I reckon you’re a girl.” He bit into the apple with a satisfying crunch.
Penny’s stomach growled. He held the apple out to her. She snatched it from his hand and sunk her teeth into it. Burly man continued pounding on the door.
She said, “I’m not supposed to be here.”
He nodded. “Names Goodman, I’m the engineer and that means I pretty much know who is supposed to be down here and who isn’t.” He nodded his head toward the locked door. “It seems like you’ve upset someone.”
She glanced at the door and shrugged. “I only took four apples. He had a whole barrel of them.” She took another bite.
Goodman leaned against the railing. “You’re a stowaway.”
Penny nodded. “I heard there was work upriver.”
Goodman looked her over. “Aye there’s work upriver. There’s work here too.”
Penny stopped mid-bite and lowered the apple from her mouth, looking wide-eyed at the engineer. “You’d hire me?”
Goodman smiled. “That’ll be up to the Captain, but he’s a good man.”
“Your papa?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.
He laughed. “We aren’t related. Captain Cobb will give you a fair shake though. Finish up that apple and we’ll go have a chat with him.”
Penny glanced at the half-eaten apple in her hand and hesitated a moment raising her gaze back to Goodman. “He won’t be mad?”
Goodman’s smile turned sympathetic. “He won’t be happy you’ve snuck aboard and stole. Still, if you truly want work, he’ll likely give you a chance to prove you’re more than a thief. All you have to do is prove yourself worth the chance.”
“How do I do that?” she asked.
“You’ll figure it out.” Goodman took her by the arm and gently escorted her through the engine room to another exit, avoiding the burly man.
Penny sat on a bench in the Captain’s office. Her satchel sat on the Captain’s desk, its contents emptied out around it. She kept her hands folded in her lap and remained silent as the Captain sorted through the few personal belongings she still owned. The three remaining apples were, of course, not hers.
Cobb looked every bit the Captain of a riverboat. The brown pipe in his mouth, unlit and possibly empty, went hand in hand with the image as well as the white scraggly beard hanging off his chin and cheeks. He had warm blue eyes though.
She watched as he stood up from behind his desk and sauntered around to the front of it. He leaned back, partially sitting on the front edge of the desk. The pipe left his mouth, held between two fingers on his left hand, rocking back and forth.
He shook his head looking at her. “Stowaway, eh?”
Penny nodded.
“I imagine you’d like it if I just hand you over to the authorities when we dock,” he said.
She shook her head. “No, sir.”
He didn’t seem to hear. “They’ll put you in a nice warm cage, put food in your tummy and keep you all healthy for a half year, maybe longer if you’re lucky.”
She looked at her lap. “I heard there was work upriver.”
Cobb raised an eyebrow at her. “Who would hire a thief?”
She looked up. “I’m not a thief.”
“Did you buy a ticket for my boat?” he asked.
“No.”
He picked up an apple from his desk and showed it to her. “Did you pay for these apples?”
She shook her head.
“What do you call a person who takes things without paying for them?” he asked.
“I’ll pay for them,” she said.
“How?” Cobb asked. “You don’t have any money.”
Penny said, “Give me a job and then I’ll have money to pay you.”
“Why should I?” He dropped the apple back on his desk. “You stole from me.”
Penny thought for a moment. She bit her lip. “Because you know I’ve only done what I thought I had to do and if you give me a job you know I’ll work hard to keep it because I already know what it’s like not to have a job.”
He slipped the pipe back in his mouth. “So you’d have me give you a job and forget all about the fact you’ve stowed away on my boat and stolen from me?”
“You could take the money for the passage and the apples out of my pay,” she said.
He took the pipe in his fingers again. “Then you’d just end up stealing more from me cause you’d have a job and no way to pay for food or a roof over your head.”
“There has to be something,” she said.
Cobb nodded. “I tell you what. I’ll give you a job, take room and board out of your pay each week and with what you got left you pay me for an apple a week until all four are paid off.”
Penny smiled. “Thank you, sir. You won’t regret this.”
Cobb held a hand up in the air. “Don’t thank me yet, girl. I’m not finished.”
“Oh.” Penny waited for the rest.
“As I said, you’ll have a job and pay me back for the apples you stole, but first, you’re going to apologize for stealing and stowing away on my boat and then I’m going to give you a good paddling just to make sure you’ve learned your lesson.”
She stared at him open-mouthed.
“Now if that sounds fair to you, we’ve got a deal,” he said. He stuck the pipe back in his mouth and crossed his arms over his chest waiting for her response.
Penny closed her mouth and nodded. A spanking was nothing new to her and she even understood how she probably deserved one. Getting a job, now that was well worth just about anything, even a spanking she didn’t deserve. “I’m still thankful, sir. I’m sorry for sneaking aboard and stealing the apples and all the other trouble I’ve caused you.”
Cobb nodded. “Alright then. Just take your trousers down and whatever you’ve got on underneath them.”
She blushed. Her hands fumbled at the waist of her pants. She felt uncomfortable with his eyes locked on her, but then he turned his back and moved to the paddle mounted on the wall behind his desk. The pants came undone and she pushed them to the floor along with her panties. Her hands covered herself in front and she fixed her gaze on the wood decking beneath her feet.
He approached with paddle in hand. “Turn around and grip the seat of that bench.”
Penny didn’t hesitate in obeying. Her fingers gripped the wooden bench and she stared straight ahead at the back preferring to avoid looking at the Captain. She felt the cool smoothness of the oak implement resting against her naked butt. A shiver ran down her spine. Wood always stung.
“Stealing is never right,” Cobb said. He slapped the paddle against her bottom.
She blinked and inhaled sharply. A dozen warm prickles interjected themselves in the cold blanketing her buttocks.
“Just cause you need something doesn’t give you the right to take it from someone else.” He whisked the paddle through the air, bringing it down on her butt.
Her breathing turned sharper. She blinked away tears. The prickles intensified.
“If you need something you don’t have and can’t afford, you come talk to me.” The paddle slapped against her bottom.
Penny yelped. The prickles covered her entire bottom in a rising heat. Tears stung at her eyes.
“Is that clear?” he asked. The paddle impacted like punctuation.
She jerked and wiggled her butt. She sucked in air and only narrowly avoided a sob escaping her lips. A pair of tears spilled from her eyes. “Yes, sir.”
He brought the paddle down twice. “It better be.”
More tears spilled from her eyes, streaking down her cheeks. Her knuckles turned white from gripping the bench.
“You’re going to work hard,” he said. The paddle struck hard. “You’ll follow instructions.” The paddle instructed. “Or you’ll be back here again.” The paddle visited and revisited her bottom.
She moaned and yelped. Tears fled her eyes in streams, rolling down her face. Her bottom quivered, heated and tender. The familiar tingling pain coursed through her body.
Cobb rested the paddle beside his leg. “I understand there are tables to be cleaned in the dining hall before sunrise.”
She blinked away tears, sniffling. “Yes, sir.”
“Get your trousers up,” he ordered.
She wasted no time despite the brief intensification of pain caused by pulling the material over her reddened bottom. Hesitantly she turned and faced him, wiping the tears from her face.
He held a key out to her. “Clean yourself up and change into a uniform. There should be one in the closet. Then you get yourself to the dining room and get those table spic and span for morning. Understood?”
She nodded, taking the key. “Yes, sir.”

Friday, August 24, 2012

Time For An Update


Well it’s been awhile. I thought maybe you would like an update. More likely, you would like more story being posted today. I could have done that. I do actually have a rather lengthy segment continuing The Pickett Family mostly finished, it just needs some proofreading and maybe a little editing. But writing a little update takes less time and time can be scarce lately. Besides, I like to keep you informed on what all is going on and what you can expect here on Imagine the Stories.
Summer is almost over. I’ve been working hard, attended two summer sessions at school (trying to get back on track because I had to drop a semester last year) and of course I’ve been doing a bit of writing work. My old computer couldn’t keep up anymore so I built myself a new one, reusing some components of the old but now I’ve got one of the latest Intel chips powering everything on a new logic board. That was quite the experience, putting all the components together, particularly securing the processor into its slot on the logic board, I cringed at the noise that thing made and I was certain it had to be bad news, but when I plugged it in everything worked perfect. I’m rather proud of myself over that accomplishment. Yep, I’m patting myself on the back.
After the coming weekend, I’m back in school having only had this week off. I knew there was no rest for the wicked, but since when did wicked include naughty? Obviously my scarce time situation isn’t improving. I haven’t even been able to catch up on all my emails this week, which by the way, I’m sorry if I owe you one and haven’t gotten it out yet, but I will get there. Anyway, that brings me to my yearlong problem of getting content ready and posted here.
I’d post pictures, but let’s face it, if you’re into the pictures, you’ve seen everything I could find to share. My latest and greatest idea is to go retro. Yep that’s right, big-hair SPANKING! I hope you’re laughing, cause I am and I am most certainly not serious, at least on the big-hair spanking. No, what I mean by retro is when I first started Imagine the Stories I wrote short stories with limited characters and straightforward focus. I migrated from those into these more complicated and lengthier stories like The Pickett Family and The Winter Storm.
I love writing complicated stories. The characters come alive, the decisions they face take on meaning, and the spanking scenes can evoke true emotion. I don’t intend to stop writing longer, more complicated spanking fiction, I am in fact working on such a story that I hope to conclude sometime in September, but I don’t expect I’ll be sharing those types of stories here for the immediate future. Instead, I’m going to focus on providing quality short stories of various situations that will mostly consist of just one post telling the story from beginning to end. For the longer works, I’m going to be publishing them as ebooks on LULU and possibly elsewhere if I can figure out the process easily enough.
That’s the plan anyway. We’ll see how things go over the next few weeks and I’ll make adjustments as needed, but I’m going to do my best to keep a much more regular posting schedule with those short stories.