Hey Out There In Spanky Cyberspace!
How are all you lovely folks this wonderful Friday morning? I’m doing great. After trolling umpteen thrift stores yesterday, I finally assembled my costume for my college theater reunion show fundraiser. I will be reprising my role as Calamity Jane. This is happening next weekend, so I may be posting early because I’m taking off early Friday morning and will be staying away for a couple nights.
But man, what a day yesterday. I went everywhere and couldn’t find any used cowboy boots. In this urban wasteland, cowboy boots aren’t exactly plentiful. And I didn’t want to spend a hundred bucks on a pair of boots I was gonna wear once. I went to a million thrift stores, but only came across three pairs and they were all tiny (I have very big feet: woman’s size ten or ten and a half, men’s eight or nine). At the very last place on the list, I found one cowboy boot that fit me. One. As in I couldn’t find the other. And I looked everywhere. I was so bummed, I put the boot back and commiserated with a nice lady who was also looking at shoes. Thankfully, the fellow shopper told me that if the shoes are expensive, the store kept one shoe up at the counter. I went up there and lo and behold, there was the other boot! I was so stoked! And they fit! And they match my gunbelt. I was sooooo happy!
So now I’ve got my monologue memorized, I’ve paid for the motel and the reunion dinner and I’m ready to go on! Or sort of. Been awhile since I performed a character. I’m onstage every year as MC of a local music festival, but I haven’t played a character in a long time. Let’s hope I don’t suck. But what I’m really worried about is the dance finale of the show. Our call is ten AM next Saturday, we rehearse all day and go on at four in the afternoon. And that’s it. That’s all the time we’ll have. And I have such difficulty remembering dance steps. My brain isn’t good at it. Normally, choreographers put me in the back. Behind the tall people. Behind set pieces. So, we’ll see.
I’d rather be going back to Monterey and fucking the Hubby, personally. But I have to help out my old theater pals.
So, speaking of fucking, here is the conclusion to Speeding Towards a Spanking. Next week, we start a new story with the same couple.
Have a wonderful weekend!
Lots of love,
Zane stalked towards her. Towering above the crowds, the man stood out from a hundred yards away. A full head above everyone else, his black hair flowed behind him. He was wearing sunglasses, but she knew that face. His Death Face. His jaw was clenched, his fists were balled, his shoulders straight and rigid, he was beyond furious.
And rightly so. She felt terrible. It all sort of hit her at once. This was really bad. She’d been living a double life for the past three months. She hoped he didn’t want a divorce. She wouldn’t blame him.
All her joy turned to sorrow. So what if she’d just won a race? She might have just ended her marriage.
“Mr. Black, I’m G—”
Turning to the man, Zane held up a hand. “Not now, pal.” His baritone voice sounded even deeper than normal, resonating in his chest. He turned to her and seared her with a green laser-beam glare that shot out from behind his shades. “Lila? We need to talk. Wait. Is she done here?” he asked Bobby John.
BJ nodded. “Yeah, but people are gonna want to talk to her.”
“That’s too bad. Because I’m her husband and I need to talk to her more. You,” he said, glaring down at her. “You’re comin’ with me. Snark is drivin’ your car. Give me the keys.”
“They’re over with my stuff. I have to change.”
“Do it quick.”
Her lower lip trembling, Lila quickly changed, gave Bobby John a quick hug and went to join her husband. Zane was waiting for her with his arms crossed, looking like the picture of barely contained fury. He was so mad, virtually no one was near him, but Snark. His bassist was talking to him in low tones. Once in a while, Zane would nod.
She was dead. She walked up to the two men. “Hi Snark.”
Snark, also had long black hair, but he was normal-sized, maybe six feet tall, with a slightly pudgy belly. “You drove great, Lila—“ Zane swung his hot gaze onto him, his lip curling. “Sorry, Zane, she did, okay? She did. She’s good at it—I’ll shut up.” He turned to Lila with a big fake smile on his face. “You got your keys, Lila?”
Any other time she would have laughed. But all she did was mechanically hand the man her keys.
A second later, Zane latched his iron grip onto her upper arm and began dragging her off the track. She could barely keep up with his long strides, she had to run to stay with him.
They reached his Cadillac Escalade, he unlocked the door, opened it and practically threw her inside. She wished she had the guts to run.
Zane barely said a word to her on their long drive home. He muttered under his breath, he shot glares at her from time to time, but said nothing. She knew him. When he was this mad, his mind couldn’t form coherent thoughts. She worried about his driving, but he was fine with that. But she’d never seen him this mad at her before.
For an hour, she said nothing. Finally, she couldn’t stand it. “Are you gonna divorce me?”
He gave a short, barking laugh. “Don’t you wish. No baby, you’re facin’ the music on this one. No easy way out. The only way out is through me. And I ain’t got divorce on my mind.” He was so angry, he looked nearly demonic.
All the hair stood up on the back of her neck. Something told her he would be going beyond his normal spankings. Great. She contemplated jumping out of the SUV when they hit downtown San Francisco. But where would she go?
They headed the normal way home, but Zane turned off on a street before theirs. He pulled over to the side of the road and parked. He opened the door and pointed at her. “You stay here.”
He got out before she could respond and disappeared down the street. She sat there for fifteen minutes, her heart pounding. What the hell was going on?
The door opened, Zane got back inside, he was carrying a brown paper bag. He looked over at her, put his hand inside the bag and withdrew a large leather paddle with air holes cut into it. He threw it over to her, it landed in her lap.
“Think about that, baby,” he said. He had the most sinister, evil and angry look on his face. He’d never been this scary with her. He was a scary-looking guy anyway, but this volcanic anger he directed at her was crazy.
She looked down at her lap and got nauseous. So this was her future. She fought the tears.
Zane parked, she didn’t even realize they were home. Before she could get rid of it, he grabbed the paddle away from her.
He took hold of her arm and they took the long trip up the elevator. He opened the door for her, she thought about locking herself in the bathroom.
He locked the door, turned, grabbed her by the upper arm and dragged her into the living room. He sat down, pulled her down across his lap, grabbed the back of her pants and ripped them down to her ankles, taking her panties with them.
He adjusted her roughly once and then… it felt like a swarm of bees attacked her ass.
She couldn’t breathe. The pain was so fierce, the blows came so rapidly, she couldn’t even get a breath in her lungs.
It honestly was the worse pain she’d ever felt. It felt like he was burning away the flesh on her buns. She’d never felt such agony before.
And he didn’t let up, he spanked her as hard as he could, the slaps were loud, her screams were even louder. Every nerve ending was on fire, her whole body radiated with pain. He’d never been this mad at her. She made herself a promise she’d never get him this mad again.
Zane worked the paddle ferociously against the tender flesh of her vulnerable behind. She balled her fists, shaking with pain and shame, and kicked her feet. This was the worst. The worst punishment ever. He’d never been this mad at her while punishing her before. She wasn’t sure she’d survive.
Finally, he threw the paddle across the room and yanked her up to face him. “What were you thinking? Huh? What? Stop crying and talk to me!”
She sobbed so hard, she couldn’t talk.
“What is wrong with you? Racing?! Can’t you think of any faster ways to die? What? You want to be maimed? And what the hell is wrong with you, lyin’ to me? What were you thinking? That I wouldn’t find out? Are you tryin’ to put distance between us?”
“No! No! I just didn’t know how to handle it! I didn’t mean to get involved with the racing—“
Zane clearly didn’t believe her. “Oh, come on, come up with somethin’ better than—“
“Honest. They didn’t tell me until I got there that it was kind of a real race. I didn’t know. All I knew was that I got to drive the Dodge, finally. Bobby John’s prized Dodge.”
“When did you start drivin the cars?” Zane demanded.
“A year and a half ago.”
His mouth dropped open. “A year and a half ago! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you wouldn’t let me!”
“How do you know that?”
She gestured at him, tears still streaming down her cheeks. “Look how you reacted!”
“That’s because you lied to me!”
“You wouldn’t let me drive!”
“You never asked me!”
“I’m sorry! I wanted to race and I didn’t want you to stop me and I didn’t want to lie to you and it all got messed up. I’m sorry. I just… I made the deal with Bobby John before we met. I traded him shots for training. I wanted to drive a racecar. And he’s been teaching me. Apparently, I have some aptitude here or something.” She wiped the tears from her eyes.
Zane looked off, livid. His mind was going a mile a minute. He shook his head. “This isn’t working. You aren’t hearing me. I have to get through to you. Okay, look, this is the way it’s going to be. You tell me what you want to do, all of it. All the crazy crap you think of, you tell me and let me see if I can figure out a way to help you do it so you’re safe. I can’t have you thinkin’ you can’t tell me stuff. This is wrong. I handled this wrong.”
His gaze softened. He brought her closer and kissed her forehead. She could feel the anger leaving him. Thank the Lord.
“All I want is you safe, baby. That’s it. I knew you were crazy when I met you. I just… deluded myself about stoppin’ you. I see I can’t. I’ll just have to work with your craziness. Damn it.”
“So am I, I set you up to fail. But that does not mean you’re off the hook for lyin’ to me. You’re grounded. For the next three months, you are grounded. No racing, no climbing, no nothin’ but straight exercising. You hear me? I’ll buy a freakin’ cane and stripe that ass of yours if you disobey me this time.”
“I got it, I got it.”
“And then, we’ll see about this racing thing of yours.”
She looked at him, shocked. “You mean… I can… You’ll let me…”
He looked disturbed, then he broke into a smile and kissed her. “Well, it’s obvious I can’t actually stop you. So, I’ll help you. But I swear, Lila, you lie again and I will buy a cane.”
“No, I’ll be good, I’ll be good!”
“You’d better. Now come here, you got some more payin’ to do,” he said, slipping a hand between her legs and kissing her.
©2007, Michelle Carlyle
Welcome To Michelle's Blog
If you are offended by spanking and explicit sexual situations, please go elsewhere. 18 and over, only please. If you're a fan of romantic spanking fiction, then this is the blog for you. I mainly write m/f spanking fiction involving loving couples. My men are all Alpha, my women are smart, sassy and very bad girls who learn that their errant ways can lead to some painful consequences. My work appears on the website Discipline and Desire. I also write fun erotica involving threesomes (also with lots of spanking!) and other spanky sexual adventures. If you want to buy my books, check out my website, www.michellecarlyle.com or go to disciplineanddesire.com.