Wednesday, February 17, 2016

Mademoiselle's Choices

Here's a long overdue story for you. I struggled with this story on a few aspects, including not sure how many details were needed to set the scene.


Not to forget, I hope you enjoyed the weekend and if you are here in the U.S., the extra long double holiday weekend.  


“You can’t be serious?!”

“Young lady, why would you even think I wasn’t?
 Now shoo! On your way. I got work to do and you have a long drive yet.”

“ in thee world am I supposed to drive home like thees?”

“Easy. Drive down to the CROSSING, TURN RIGHT and follow the RAILROAD TRACKS to the first road. TURN LEFT and take that old farm road down for about AN HOUR and you’ll end up deadheading into the backside of town.”  He instructed, yelling out key words because when someone doesn't speak your language it is always best to speak louder.

“Ttt..that is not what I meant!
I can’t drive around like this. Wwhat if..what if someone sees me?!”

“Clear that morning-after hair-sprayed mess out of your face and listen. You take the farm road and you’ll be fine at this morning hour, hardly another soul on that road. Give or take a few ranch hands hear or there. Perhaps another reason for you to appreciate the location of your nice big hotel on the outskirts of town.”

“Oh! I can not believe you!” she huffed, glaring at him keeping her arms tightly crossed.

“Your choice. Stay here and continue arguing as the day gets longer and the roads get busier.”

She stomped her foot in utter frustration, making sure to keep her chest concealed as she practically trembled from a combination of anger and the morning cold. Her head ached as she couldn’t believe this cluster of a predicament she was in.

How had a promising holiday get-away with friends gone so wrong. How had she been so irresponsible and ended up here. How could she have been so stupid to let herself be in this situation, broken down seemingly in the middle of nowhere; left with minimal choices. Stuck here, in a cold run-down service garage, crouching in front of him, practically naked; dressed in nothing more than than her shoes and her underwear.

“I..l caaannnot go like this,” she stomped her feet again in a tiny shuffle of impertinence. 

He ignored her pouting and marched towards her, stepped behind her to grab the already open car door and waved her in. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck as she froze unable to figure out a retreat other than into the car. 

He said nothing as he waited patiently for her to climb in, taking the opportunity to inhale her faded perfume and admire her tender yet arrogant eyes while she peered over her shoulder at him.

Without another option, she cautiously straightened up from her crouched posture, but just enough to lean into the car; still weary of him catching another glance at her bare chest. She straightened up just enough, just enough to accidentally nudge her ample bottom into his denim covered crotch.

“Oh!” she swung her head over her shoulder. 

“Well, well well. You French girls truly are lil’ teases.”

“Pardon - pardon! That was an accident!”

“Just get your big seat into that leather seat and get going before the sun rises higher. You don’t want to scorch that spoiled ass of yours on that leather.”  

She didn't move. Frustrated with her lack of action, he gave into temptation.  He grabbed a handful of her bottom cheek, squeezed and then proceeded to use his firm grip as a means to lead her forward into the car.

“Oh! Oh! Let go! Let…” she protested, but ended up in the seat regardless as he pushed her down closing the door behind her.

“Nice to be of service to you lady” he nodded resting his arms on the open window frame. “Enjoy the ride home. I’m sure your fellow travelers will.”

“You!…bastard! Wait till I tell…”

“Wait till what?” he cut her off as his voice deepened further, “Wait till you tell your husband? Go right ahead.”


“Go right ahead. In fact have him call me. I’ll explain everything” he proposed as he suddenly reached in and grabbed her disheveled pony tail and pulled her face around to his.

“I’ll explain how his hungover lil’ wife drove off the highway and got herself lost in these old back-roads. How she irresponsibly put herself in danger further by running out of gas and getting a flat! How does one manage both in one trip? Quite impressive” he smirked.

She looked away sharply as she fought an uncontrollable urge to meet his comment with an embarrassed smile. He had a point; her careless ways were legend amongst her friends.

“He..he is not my husband! He is my fiancé and I’ll tell ‘im how you took advantage! ‘Ow you forced mee to give up my dress…” she threatened as her accent nervously kicked in further.

“Please do. I’ll be more than happy to explain everything in detail” he continued to push.

“I’ll be happy to explain how I found you on the side of the road dressed – falling out of that dress I should say.

And thanks to my kindness and generosity, I towed you back to the garage where I opened up the shop - on a holiday, replaced the flat, filled the tank and was ready to send you on your way when payment was due.

 And guess what? Mademoiselle here must have spent all her money on this expensive dress and on drinks last night and her account was overdrawn. 

It was only fair I get paid?
 I am sure he’ll understand and agree.

 He surely understands the cost of things and how money is earned. Unlike the lil’ lady here.”

She bit her lip nervously unable to argue the facts as he continued his scolding.

“However, he might not  be too happy to hear his lil’ innocent bride-to-be was out at a local bar. Drunk and in that curve defining dress with that plunging

She further tightened her arms around her chest as he seemed to be able to see through them. 

“…all the while she and her friends were flirting and dancing all night with all them single, lonely and horny ranch hands.” 

“No! You can’t!…You don’t know that. It wasn’t like that! It was all innocent” she argued as she tried to replay the scene at the bar last night. She was just too distracted with matters at hand she told herself to remember details, any details. Too distracted to remember anything past the fourth shot.

“I am sure he’ll see that my only option here was to take that expensive designer dress in exchange, as payment, to cover my parts costs…”

“No! You can’t tell him…”

“I am sure he will be OK with the dress exchange. It is a fair business deal and all.
 Besides, I am letting you off easy. The dress will cover the tire costs, but what about my labor, towing fee and gas costs? He understandably might be upset that he still needs to pay more, but I’ll explain everything when I call him with the total outstanding balance due.

Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it. Let us men figure it out.” He said in a condescending tone, now patting her on the top of her head. 

“No! You can’t! Please don’t.”

“So how do you suppose I cover my additional costs? I suggest you get going before I decide to include taxes when I settle this account. I was planning on letting you slide on the taxes, because, well…actually maybe I shouldn’t based on your ungratefulness.”

“No! You can’t tell him any of this! You don’t know him. He will be devastated…” 

“Oh I can and I will, young lady. I don't know him, but I know his type…Spoiling their pretty little girlfriends and wives only to have them become become more and more arrogant. Giving them everything and always letting them have their way; eventually letting them run the household. Never taking a stand as your type continuously takes advantage…”

She looked away in shame and he knew he had struck the chord.

“….and the worse yet, when they aren’t around, acting loose when out on the town.”

“No…please! Don’t tell him!” she pleaded, “He’ll be mortified especially that you took my dress and... and saw me like this.”

“Enough! Just be a good girl and – Get! 
I’ll call your fiancé and explain everything. Might even give him some free, man to man, pre-marital advice while I’m at it. Actually, I think I’ll call him as soon as you leave that way he can be waiting for you.”

She didn’t move. She made no effort to start the car, sitting confused and overwhelmed.
 She finally turned to him and with damp eyes pleading; “Ppplease, there is got to be another way?”

“You’re lucky I am letting you off easy. If you were my wife, do you know what I would do to you?"

Her big pouty blue eyes met his contrasting stare, his dark eyes full of emotion. 

"Do you know what I would do to you? Do you?! Answer me.”

“No” she whimpered.

“A good ol’ fashion, over the knee spanking is what you need! It would do you plenty of good! Spanking some sense into that irresponsible ass of yours. Yes, that’s the best way to handle your type; spanking some sense into you on a regular basis.”

She shook her head in fright putting her hands on the large steering wheel, momentarily forgetting her lack of clothing, gripping it tighter to settle herself as he spoke. She stared at him fixed on every word unable to move. 

He finally paused and refocused before attempting to send her on her way again.

“Now, get outta’ here, before I take matters into my own hands.”

She looked away and thought about everything from her fiancé, his career and their future to the long road ahead. She finally turned to him and closed her eyes and softly spoke.

“If…Ifff..I pppay for the labor costs, will you promise not to tell my fiancé?”

“How do you plan to do that, Missy? I had already thought about taking those panties off of you too. I am sure they are worth a pretty penny, but I can’t sell ‘em. No doubt they’d at least come in handy around the shop here for securing something; from the extreme stretch that they are obviously capable of…”

“What?! What do you mean?!”

“Again, young lady in all fairness, you are rather endowed down there” he explained motioning wide with his open hands.

“You! You are a rude man!”

“Well, you are lucky I'm too polite to take them; I can’t leave you completely indecent? Now get.”

“I…I..I’ll pppay for the labour costs another way! Your way!”

He stepped back, placed his large hand on his belt buckle, amused realizing what she was getting at.

“My way?” he asked now fully understanding her offer.

“Yesss, your way, just please do not to tell my fiancé! Do not tell him anything!”

He stared at her big pleading eyes and finally answered, “Fair enough, but there is a large balance due. Which means a long hard repayment.”

“I understand” she answered not making eye contact.

“OK, young lady, but to be perfectly clear this is to be punishment spanking. I want you draped over my knee.”

“Fine. Bb…But I keep my culettes on!” she demanded.


“My panties. I keep my panties on” she explained.

“Oh is that what you call those big ol' things” he smiled and she frowned further insulted.

“Don’t worry young lady; I won’t peel those panties off, saving you some modesty. Granted stretched as they no doubt will be, as your bent over with your cheeks spread wide, that sheer material, will leave little underneath to the imagination. No doubt offering a lovely view of your deep crack and what is certainly an extra tight lil’ asshole and…”

“You are a horrible!” she muttered in disbelief, blushing further yet.

“Just telling it like it is Missy. You know very well those panties are sheer as day. I've already got quite the nice preview of your big cheeks. And while we are being clear, I’m going to tell you something. I think I would really enjoy spanking your big arrogant French ass. Those stretched nylon panties are going to offer your ample target no protection whatsoever; your bottom might as well be naked.

Despite the fact that you have obviously needed it, I’m sure you’ve never been spanked, but don't worry. No don't you worry, I’m going to be gentle. Gentle as thunder when I slap your ass. 

Yup, I’m going to enjoy hearing you scream and pout, Missy. I’m going to enjoy watching you kick; those little tits swayin and that big plump white ass jiggling like mad…”

“S’il te plaît! Please...I’m a lady!”

A lady? No, you are a spoiled, careless little bitch who deserves to be taught a firm lesson. Do you know what that means?

It means you are going to be Mademoiselle Bitch when I’m done with you, when I'm done thrashing your big pale ass. It means your ass is going to be match your pouty lips and be throbbing for days. I’m going to make sure of it. I’m going to make sure you remember this for a long time, for days to come. Next time you wedge yourself into a pencil skirt or tight dress, I want to be sure you remember how you were taught a long overdue lesson.”

He stopped his tirade as he felt himself getting excited and waited for her to decide her own fate.

“Fine, but also it, we do it in your shop office” she instructed.

“No! We’ll do it my way. We’ll do it where I say!  It’ll be here in the middle of the garage, with the door as is, wide open. Don’t want to miss any customers who might come by; I got a business to run.”

"C’est pas possible," she whispered to herself while looking away flustered and pondering her predicament.

“Well what’s it going to be, Missy? Are you going to step up and learn your lesson and pay up or you going to drive away?”


She bounced in the seat nervously, still feeling the aching in her cheeks where he had grabbed her and sized up his biceps and could just imagine what a spanking by him would feel like. She turned to him, tightening her legs anxiously, debating her seemingly no-win options and finally decided. 


Did you enjoy that? I hope it was worth the wait. The questions are: What would you do? What did she decide?
 And/or a few polls for your entertainment if you prefer, once again divided by gender. As always, comments are always welcome and appreciated.

Sunday, February 14, 2016

What day is today again?

What day is today again?
Yes, I know, I know.
I was attempting to be funny.
No, I didn't forget.
Just not feeling romantic at the moment.
A lot has been going on personally that my time here has been sidetracked lately.
Plus, I'm having serious trouble posting any new story themes
for fear of scaring some of you readers off.
For now, I'll leave you with two things:
One: An Irish blessing for today:
May your cottage roof be well Thatched
And those inside be well Matched.

Two: The following Post in the form of a Poem.
Which seems appropriate, yet possibly not in the most obvious ways.


I always wanted her to be comfortable.
in her own skin.

It wasn’t a matter of age
I know people like to attribute it to such,
reaching the age where you care less, or not at all, of others opinions.
No doubt that may be for some, but hardly the case for all.

I believe it has to do with how you are raised,
much less than about societal pressures.
At least from my vantage point.
The ones who were comfortable had nothing in common except,
perhaps, a sliver of commonality in their upbringing; just enough.

It wasn’t a matter of high self-esteem.
All of them, shared that missing trait in common
 – granted to varying degrees.
Yet, none ever seeing the true magnitude of their beauty
not to the level I did.

I was blinded more often then not by radiance.
Their radiance.

Her luminosity.

She more then the others struggled with seeing her own.
Perhaps there was some truth to it, but not based on a scale of external beauty,
all due to internal misdirected emotion.

I always wanted her to see herself as I did
to see the same beauty I was in awe of,
to simply be.


There was an elegant calm as they strolled about
practically naked.
Naked by societal standards yet
naked deeper in emotional vulnerability;
gifting me trust unspoken.

Barefoot, topless and disheveled hair.
Occasional goosebumps and shivers never leading to retreat;
an oversize cup of caffeine always at the rescue.

My heart.
Warmed by their radiance.
Warmed by nothing more than witnessing these beings
floating from one room to another.

Carefree strolling more often then not.
The occasional sauntering, to my amusement. Simply as if commonplace and not as it truly was –
A miraculous vision.

Oh, why couldn’t she be like them?

I always wanted her to be comfortable.
To be comfortable in her own skin.
To be comfortable in her own soul.
To be naked.
Trusting me.
And that is why,
as my closest friend has reminded time and again:
"That is why dog people should be with dog people and cat people with cat people."