Thursday, June 25, 2015

Warning Shot over the Stern!

"Consider that your warning shot over the stern, young lady!"

I know, I know. 
Yes, I am well aware that is not the correct term. Just wanted to acknowledge that before you nautical and/or military buffs get all up in arms. That is if there are any of you out there reading this blog. Perhaps Bogey or Devlin (if he even visits here) would have caught the incorrect word. Perhaps there are other ex-military readers out there, perhaps even some former or even current service women reading...

I digress yet again.

For those of you who have no idea what I am talking about, allow me to explain. In question is my incorrect use of a word in the phrase above. I am sure you have have heard the correct term before, at least in a movie; a warning shot over the bow.

Technically a "bow" is the front of a ship and I wouldn't strike a lady's face. However that being said; I have no problem striking her bottom; a.k.a. her "stern". 

Following?

Yes - good.

No? 

Not important.


What is important is the mood you wake up in the morning and the mood you leave the house to start your day. It is what you carry forward and what sets the tone for your day.

When figuring that the dry-cleaning hasn't been picked up and laundry has not been done, a gentle nudge is always the manner a gentleman approaches these first morning situations. When no verbal response is detected and covers are pulled over her head in a grumpy protest, the answer to those questions can easily be guessed.

When certain young ladies, having neglected their chores the night before, rather than waking early to remedy the situation, and instead actually add to the bubbling frustration. Adding to the bubbling frustration by sleeping in and ignoring at least the opportunity for an explanatory conversation over a quick breakfast (not even asking as much as a cooked and warm breakfast, mind you), then moods shifts quickly.

That is when the gentle nudging is replaced by the sudden whipping back of blankets and sheets. As she curls up on all fours in reaction to the sudden disappearance of warm blankets and in anxious preparation to what is assumed to be coming only moments away. 

Instead there is a momentary standstill as time ticks away and frustration grows.


.........................

"Unfortunately, no time to deal with you now 
otherwise I will be late; 
as I now need to find something presentable to wear to the office. 

Look at me when I talk to you.

This does not mean you are off free and clear. 

No.

Limited time only offers you 
a limited reprieve, young lady.


[SLAP!]

Consider that, your warning shot over the stern, young lady!


That singular, reverberating impact
should keep you warm and throbbing!
 And more importantly, keep you focused.
Focused on what you need to get done throughout the day.

Clean up this place and yourself, before I get back; understood?

 Otherwise, I'll be cleaning up your attitude
via a repeated pounding message to your ass."

.......................

I have not been in a good mood at work all week. On top of that, add in the fact that I apparently have been in a low tolerance type of mood; all concludes that I undoubtedly need a vacation. A long vacation; outdoors ideally. A weekend getaway could possibly suffice. 

What about you? Whose ready for summer? Anyone else having trouble staying focused?

Monday, June 15, 2015

Class Dismissed: School's Out


People ask me all the time
"Enzo where are do you get your story inspirations from?"

Do you know what I reply?

I don't.

No, not because I'm rude, but because people don't ask. Perhaps since only you dear blog readers 
know I write these stories it has never actually come up, not even in comments; which are few and far between. I shall not revel the secret inspirations, but rather simply subject you to reading this ongoing literary torture.

In all seriousness, four seemingly random, but true facts make up the background ingredients and inspiration to this next story.

Fact 1. It is that time of the year across the country that schools are in the process of closing or have already closed for summer break.
Fact 2. I have had quite a few teachers as friends, but one particular friend and young teacher who took herself way too seriously was a big inspiration. I had no doubt she would have been an excellent teacher someday, but she had unrealistic expectations of her primary students created by her combination of inexperience, youth and ego. Before I digress, it might suffice to say she was a tad self-important. 
Fact 3. Drop in one of my favorite illustrations by my favorite pin-up illustrator. Whose key subject coincidentally holds a striking resemblance to my friend in Fact 2.
Fact 4. Sprinkle in the fact that some of my fellow spanking bloggers are (or were?) teachers; I dedicate this to them. I hope you don't take offense and instead enjoy the story. Let me know what you think.

.................................


"Help! Help!"

He heard the scream all the way down the gravel path and immediately leapt off his bike and ran up the rest of the hill towards the small rural school. 

"Help!! Someone help!"

His natural instinct propelled him forward as he vaulted over shrubs, hurdled over cement benches towards the sound of distress coming from the old brick building. Not allowing the cumbersomeness of his suit to slow him down, he rushed into the inner courtyard of the schoolyard. Closer to the source, he now clearly recognized the naturally high pitched voice echoing off the brick walls. 

"Someone help! Help me!"

He reached the familiar classroom door and rammed it open. He stormed in fully prepared with arms raised ready to pummel what he imagined he would encounter; some giant madman threatening to take advantage of his helpless fiancĂ©

Instead he froze at the scene he saw. His fisted hands lowered instantly, but his adrenaline remained elevated due to what he did find. Towering above him, on top of her wooden chair was his fiancé tap dancing in freight. Her skirt raised high, by her own hands, exposing her thigh high stockings and her bare thighs; while her eyes bulged and stared at some threat in the near distance.

Simultaneously relieved and yet mesmerized by the remarkable scene in front of him. He forced his eyes away from her and charged the intruder. With a scoop of his leather gloved hand he picked up the minute creature and gently tossed it back into a box and shut it, all with minimal effort.  He read the third grade scribble written between randomly placed pencil sized holes on top of the cardboard box and laughed; "To Miss Anderson. Have sum fun this sumer. Love, Joey"

..............

"A frog. Honestly Ashley?! I thought someone was attacking you." He stared at her in disbelief.

"It scared me. I wasn't expecting it. Besides who gives someone a slimy frog as a gift?" she huffed, forgetting that her skirt remained hiked up and out. 

"Seems like an appropriate gift from a boy who has a crush on his beautiful teacher" he complimented moving near allowing for an up-close view of her milky thighs and the opportunity to inhale her soft feminine scent from between them.

"Crush? Hardly, that lil' snot hates me! 
He has a grudge against me because I won't tolerate his constant chattering in class. It was probably his way of getting back at me for giving the class summer homework project. Not sure why they look so forward to summer..." she rattled back releasing her skirt as she extended her hands out to him in a demanding gesture to help her off the chair.

He easily reached his arms around her waist, pulled her tight and lifted her up and off the chair. Before placing her down, he gave her a few good-spirited twirls. Her full skirt caught air and had anyone possibly been spying on them through the June sun filled windows, they would have been privy to a preview show. 

"You are way too uptight Miss Anderson. Perhaps it was simply a joke; besides who gives third-graders a summer project anyways?" 

She gasped and blushed feeling the breeze tickle her bottom and reached back with both hands as he released her to the floor. 

She stumbled as her heeled shoes slipped on the polished floor. She stretched to catch herself on her desk; slightly caught off guard by his comments.

"Fourth-graders. They technically are now fourth-graders!" she corrected him before attempting to reprimand him further. 

"Shhh..." Not wanting to argue, he raised his finger to her pouty red lips as he moved in closer to her, "Just relax. A nice picnic lunch awaits us." 

"Really? Oh? " she acted uninterested as he pinned her against her desk.

"Yes, a relaxing picnic in a hidden meadow where we can lay down, enjoy some wine, enjoy the peaceful, sun filled afternoon, enjoy each other." he continued his description as he leaned her down backwards onto her desk. 

"Mmmm. I do like the sound of that" she whispered. 

As their lips locked, her hands reached around him and pulled him tight. His hands quickly began clearing the desk of papers and apples, intent on starting the opportunity to enjoy each other as soon as possible.

Forgetting its contents, he slapped the small cardboard box out of the way knocking off the lid in the process and unintentionally re-released the little green intruder. In a single hop it landed on what should have been the teacher's desktop, but instead landed on the actual teachers top. 

She screamed and sent the frog fearing for it's small life. It found the nearest shelter and scurried between button gaps and into the deep cleavage of the hysterical young teacher. She felt the clammy skin rubbing against her own soft skin and panicked. She vaulted to her feet while pushing her fiance off her in the process. Unsure what to do about the intruder, she merely hopped continuously in place while flapping her hands wildly and screeching in constant intervals. 

..............

In any other circumstance he might have found the scene quite amusing and simply stood to watch. But once again he rushed to her rescue. For his own safety, he removed the potential of being slapped by her flapping arms. He caught her one wrist and then the other, joined them with a clap, and lifted them above her head. One hand kept both of hers above her head, he then proceeded to do the only logical thing to do. With his free hand he simply reached into her blouse to retrieve the intruder. 

She let out a high-pitched scream in an emotional response to the combination of the frog nesting in her bra and the large hand chasing it. She felt his hand maneuver between blouse and bra and deeper yet onto her her bare breasts. He carried out a detailed search; large fingers reaching, cupping, feeling around, below and in between. 

By the time he finally concluded the extensive search and rescue of the big eyed frog, her eyes were just as dilated; hers due to self consciousness. He had left her panting and with both nipples equally erect and entirely stiff. Her face flushed in embarrassment as her mind wandered to what he might think of her if he knew. What he might think of a girl who just dampened her panties at his groping. 


He pulled back within her blouse, tugging the anxious frog out by a hind leg as she simultaneously pulled her hands free from his grip. He flicked his hand out with force sending both the frog and multiple buttons of her white silk blouse flying. The frog landed on the window ledge and hopped out to freedom, never looking back, sensing that wild nature was safer than this shelter of a human circus. Buttons clattered and bounced across the floor while her breasts burst out of her buttonless blouse which having been molested just enough were teetering dangerously on their exposed and alert nipples; precariously close to breaking entirely free from their very strained elastic and lace constraint.

He smiled. 

She fumed and yanked her blouse closed.

..............

"See! You see! 
These are the consequences caused by child indulging attitudes!
Consequences of these spoiled rotten children. 
Lack of accountability and lack of discipline and…
Uggghh!
Never-mind!
This just makes me so mad! …Just wait until I see that lil' snot in the Fall" 

"Ashley enough!" he reached in failed attempt to put his arm around her. "Calm down.You know I hate it when my future bride speaks of the young ones in that disrespectful way."

"Excuse me?! She pulled away with a toss of her attitude filled curls. 
You know I take the education of these young minds seriously – even if they or their parents don't. Just because…Uggh! 
I can't believe YOU taking their side!"

He stretched his reach, grabbed her hand, staring her sternly in her glistening eyes. 
"Relax. 
You are getting all wound up over a joke - if it was that at all.

It's late and besides aren't you done cleaning up for summer break? 
No doubt you are the last one here; we should get going. I want to picnic before it gets dark. I'm sure you are just tired."

"No! I don't want to go!" she pulled away, glaring at him and folded her arms. In full dramatic fashion, she turned away stomping her foot, which echoed and filled the empty room unintentionally, yet pleased her just the same.

"I don't want to go anywhere with a man who doesn't support me."

"Ashley. Take a deep breath before you say something you regret."

"I'm certain I won't. I'm not going and that is that."

"Speaking of spoilt children; someone is really behaving like one now" he shot back at her.

"Hah! Excuse Me?! Me? A child?! I've never been so insulted!" she turned fully to walk away.

"You know Ashley, I've had enough of this." 

..............

He stepped forward and grabbed her by the waist. With a firm tug he pulled her against himself and bent her forward. 

"What the hell are you doing?" 

"I'm dealing with adult self indulgent spoilt attitudes. I'm about to teach you a lesson young lady." 

"No! No. Don't. I don't…. I'm. Not!" 
Next thing she knew she felt the blood rush to her head as she got a close up view of the polished floor. Her mind raced and grasped to comprehend what was happening. How could he dare threaten to treat her like…like a...

"Enough. You've had this coming for a long time" he threatened as her big eyes stared back at him over her shoulder, showing her disbelief suddenly turning to panic. 

He held her down as best he could while she kicked her feet and backstroked her arms in the air in a wild attempt to break free. But to add to her further dismay, the only thing that broke free were her perky full size breasts from the ledge of her bra.

A sudden swift flip of his hand and her skirt was hiked up to her waist.  He calmly placed his other hand on the small of her back to steady her as he examined his future prize. Happily surprised by the generous size of her bottom which was hardly obstructed by the sheerness of her panties. He ran his hand slowly over the silky soft material which revealed more of her than he had ever seen. Unable to help himself he let his large palm roughly grab a firm handful of her cheek, while his thumb sunk into her bottom cleft, testing the resistance of the delicate black fabric. 

Refocusing himself to his original intent, he swung high and brought down his open palm with a full force swing.


"Owwwww!" She pulled forward, caught only by his grip, as the sting spread throughout her tender cheeks.

He began raining down a torrent of slaps on her thinly covered, practically bare, virgin bottom.

"Ow..Ow..oh… OW…Sta..…Ow" unable to clearly vocalize her protests, she instead delivered her protests via kicks. She flung forward and back, but failed to escape his hold and only managed to kick his shins with her heels in the process. 

"Not nice young lady. Not nice. Looks like you need some additional motivation to change your attitude.

His eyes frantically raced around the room until he finally found what he had been hoping for on her desk. He grabbed it and turned back to her throbbing cheeks.

"Let's practice some arithmetic, shall we? What is one times two?" he scolded bringing a wooden ruler down stinging across both her cheeks.

She bucked and kicked her legs apart on impact, sending both her leather heels across the floor in opposite directions. Surprised by the flying projectiles he stopped momentarily and admired the the streaks now shining through the thin material. 

"Did you say something?
I can't hear you young lady."

"Wa…Wa…Wone" she mumbled chocking back tears.

"Wrong!" he smirked as he brought down the wooden ruler again with another force-filled smack. "Perhaps the teacher is the one who needs some remedial lessons before summer break?"

"Oww!" she screamed out kicking her stocking covered toes in the air and fluttering in place like a caught hummingbird. 

"Let's try again. What is two times two young lady?" 

"Fff…or…..four" she managed to mumble out.

"Correct. One. Two. Three. Four." He counted out loud as he delivered four harsh spanks.

"Oww! Owww! No! Nooo...No! Ohh....Please stop!she blurted out. 

"I'll stop when I think you've learned your lesson. Stop interrupting. You interrupt we start over." he explained "What is three times three?"

"I...I..do..don't...." she pushed against his thigh as she peddled her feet in the air in frustration.

He brought down the ruler again; a thud of wood jolting her bottom once again."What is three times three?"

"Owwwwww! Ni…ninnnnnne.

He delivered nine reverberating stinking smacks of the ruler to her sore bottom.
She grabbed tight to his ankle and finally turned back to him and blubbered out as tears raced down her eyes, "I'll be…. pplee….sstop! I'll be good." 

"That's what I wanted to hear. Good girl.
Let's finish these standing up shall we. Get up!"

..............

He flipped her up back on her feet and pointed.

"I think we can finish the rest with your back to the classroom. Put that upturned nose against the chalkboard, young lady, and hike up your skirt up."

"Whutt?" she gulped in disbelief.

He merely pointed. 

Without further hesitation she followed his orders. She once again revealed her punished cheeks under their thin modesty veil of black sheerness. 

"Nose to the chalkboard, young lady" he repeated.

She leaned her face forward as her still exposed breasts brushed up against the cold chalkboard. She took a deep breath and swayed her chest in reaction to the unexpected cold, leaving her breasts sprinkled with chalk dust.

Grabbing her by the waist once again, he delivered a half dozen striking slaps to her already aching bottom simply for good measure; simply because her cheeks looked delicious. All before proceeding with his intended further discipline. 



"I believe you'll learn your lesson best, without these" He instructed as he grabbed the elastic lace waistband of her panties. 

"No! Please! You can't! Please don't! Whattt if..? You can't.." she pleaded as the full reality of her possible further humiliation sunk to the pit of her stomach. 

"You said yourself that you believe there should be consequences for spoilt attitudes." With that he slid his thumbs into the waistband of her full panties and tugged apart and down; releasing her ample plump cheeks and sending her panties straight down to bunch at her ankles.

"Miss Anderson, you may start your summer break as soon as we finish our multiplication table to five." 

He stepped back and grabbed the ruler. He tapped the wooden tool of discipline in his open palm while he admired her plump, naked cheeks and in particular the deep, tight valley between them.

"Now bend over further, young lady"

"Nooo...pppleasssse Dear!"

She pouted over her shoulder and quickly resigned herself upon seeing the seriousness in his face. He stepped forward, kicked her ankles apart causing her stockings feet to slide wide. As wide as her bunched panties wrapped around her ankles would allow. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard letting out a full body tremble that caused her already sore and blushing bottom to jiggle and bounce unintentionally; all to his further amusement as he slowly raised the ruler. 

..............

The afternoon breeze picked up as birds continued to chip softly in the garden courtyard of the presumed vacant small school. No sounds of little people to compete with the soothing chorus of nature. It was technically summer for all those familiar with this place. All that remained to close the final chapter in this school year was one final lesson needing to be learned. 

The sound of timed, reverberating slaps against bare skin followed by loud pouting echoed through the school yard. Whimpering and pouting from someone now anxiously awaiting the official start of summer.

..............

Hope you enjoyed this story. As always, any feedback is appreciated. Voting is great, but comments win a special place in my heart.