Friday Hero

Friday. Finally.

I am not, nor have I ever been, one that lives for weekends, counting days until Friday; but is it just me or has this been a long week? It has been excruciating to say the least. 


I actually have a few posts in the pipeline that I need to hit the 'publish' button on, including the next chapter in the misadventures of our favorite little Polltaker; that is if anyone is curious as to how she'll get out of her predicament? Other posts I was debating on sharing include an entirely new brief story OR a post on my random thoughts OR a more detailed update on my personal existence.

Additionally, I have been contemplating Tumblr again; if for nothing else for the sake of quick snapshots that mirror my current moods rather than editing and re-editing my posts & stories here, which only seems to result in longer gaps between updates. Thoughts on following another Tumblr? One curated by yours truly?

I’ll check back this weekend, but until then 2 things to keep you occupied:

1) If you haven’t voted in my latest story-preference poll/quiz, please step on over there and cast your vote, before the polls close permanently in this country...I meant close on this blog, on that post.

2) Here is a very brief visual story that hopefully achieves a simple goal – of brightening up your Friday afternoon/evening. And possibly of restoring your faith that there are still some out there; that there are still heroes.

You may need to wait a few seconds for all the gifs to load properly; they are extensive especially the last link.
 
………………..

There you are!
I’ve been looking all over for you!

What? Can’t you see I’m busy?

Busy? Drinking your life away? You call that productive?

I never said productive. I said I was busy.
Now If you don’t mind, me and Jack have a lot yet to discuss.

You need to come quick!
She really needs your help! They all need your help, but she definitely does.

Didn’t you get the memo, Melissa and I are no more…done…finite.

Yes, yes I know but it doesn’t matter. She need your help!  She’s in trouble!

What, did she not pay her credit card bill again? Hate to tell you this,
but that is never going to…

No!
This is serious! Listen to me!
Her boss, has gotten the official thumbs up, from the powers that be that he has nothing to fear. That he can do anything to her now… that…Its just not good.

What are you rambling about?

He said he was going to teach her a lesson.  A really hard lesson. That he was going to… that he was going to literally spank her!

What?!
No one touches my girl...no one spanks that ass, but me.

Buttt...but she's not your girl anymore?!

I know.

But it makes no difference; no one touches her without her consent!
No one!
No clown has a right to do that!
No one.

Outta my way, she needs my help and I’m not going to sit here silently.

Meanwhile...

Whaa...! 


What are you doing?!


What don't you understand?


Exactly, what I said I was going to do.


Bbbuut, you can't!


 
Why can't I? 


Who's going to stop me?
No one, I'm the boss.
Now get over here!
 
Wait!


I've been wanting to do this for a long time.


Now, let's peel these panties off and see that tight ass!


Someone? Someone, please.

Please, someone, come quick!  I...I...

_____________

Is it too late?
Is it too late for Melissa?
Will no one come to her rescue?

 ………………..

Now re-read the story with the soundtrack below,

by clicking the video below (which may not load on some mobile devices so you can use this link: https://youtu.be/bWcASV2sey0 

You are welcome. 

Remember: Your comments and thoughts are always appreciated.

Who Wants to Play a Game?

If you are visiting today, or during this weekend, you are mostly likely here seeking a distraction from all the tension, unrest, anxiety and all the mind-clogging of the unknown, all based on the current political situation. I am guessing you need a momentary escape to a different place. Let's take a small trip to another place; to a place where things are a bit more relaxed.

Today, I welcome you all a special session of the E.M. Academy of Continuing Education for Wayward Adult Girls (and Military Training Academy of Young Men). Yes, come in out of the cold reality and into this welcome oasis - if only for just a few minutes.


____________


Welcome! Welcome dear readers and come all in, come in and gather around. I am Professor Enzo and thank you for joining me today as my students.
 

Please, shoes off and take a seat on the floor. 
Yes; in a circle. 
In a circle like in your good ol' school days. 

Spread out, spread out and form one large circle.

 Come on this will be like when you were in primary school. Just sit and criss-cross your legs.


Excuse me, is there a problem? I don't care if you don't want to Young Lady; take your shoes off and sit down, please. Yes I know, but you aren’t the only one wearing a skirt, now sit down!


Okay now students, to start things off in class today, we are going to take a little pop quiz.

Shh, no, no; now listen! This is going to be more like a game than a quiz. A game I thought would be fun to play with YOU,  yes you, my dear readers; I mean students. 

Here, take a sheet and pass the rest of the copies down.


So allow me to explain, adding in a bit of background information. On one of my recent posts, a chapter to an ongoing story, a scene came up that might have made some of you students uncomfortable…



Excuse me Young Lady; do you have something to share with the rest of the class?

No, okay please zip that mouth before I have you move and sit up here next to me.
And what did I tell you about how you are to sit; not on your thighs; criss-cross those lanky stems now!



Okay, now where was I? Yes, there was a scene in a recent story post that came up and that may have made someone of you young ladies uncomfortable. I don’t know for certain, but I am guessing based on low comments and votes that it might have.
 
Therefore, allow me to explain something about my personal preferences. Although I truly enjoy spanking as my main course I often need some "side dishes". In other words, much like any good meal, I enjoy my spanking served with a side of this or that. Not just any side, but spicy sides preferably.



And that brings us to your one question quiz for today, which in essence is:

Do you like your spanking stories as a single entree with no sides? Or do you enjoy them with a side of _______________ (fill in the blank)? 



Now, please take a pencil and write in your answers to complete following statement:



I enjoy reading stories about a delicious, warm spanking with a side of __________.


Excuse me! You again, Young Lady. Would you like to share with the rest of the class what you are whispering to your neighbor?!  No?! I didn’t think so. Now please listen up, I am only explaining this once.

Since I am guessing a lot of you might be shy about sharing this information, I thought I would make it a bit easier for you to do so. Please use the images and corresponding letters to fill in your answers. Just answer in the comments with your preference using the corresponding letters. Remember you can list as many "side dishes" as you like. Plus, I am offering extra credit for explanations as to why.



If you are still shy about sharing you may fill in the surveys, but remember you will only get half credit for submitting your answers that way.

 Okay let's get to work, the quiz begins - NOW!



Excuse me, Young Lady! Yet; again. You just earned yourself detention. Please remain seated until after everyone is gone. We will be reviewing your answers and your attitude closely. And I have a feeling I will be introducing you to an old-fashion tool of the teaching trade, a nice old-fashion wooden ruler. 

____________

I enjoy reading stories about a delicious, warm spanking with a side of _________ .
(Remember you can fill in as many answers that apply.) 

1. Anal  2. Butt Plugs  3. Corner Time

4. Domestic Discipline 5. Marking Territory (ie cumming on panties, etc.) 6. Rectal Temps. 7. Non-Consensual Spanking (ie spanking between strangers) 8. Wetting Accidents 

9. Windblown Skirts

Reminder: Full credit for answers in the comments listing your preferences using the corresponding numbers. Plus, I am offering extra credit for explanations as to why.


Hope you enjoy this game/quiz! 

Autumn Morning*: Part II

I was originally saving Part II of this story as I was not sure how it would be received, but now I think it might be a good time to share it as a special treat. It is different than what you normally find on these blogs, but in its ways so was Part I. Regardless both parts make me smile and I hope they do they same for you. I am very much interested in seeing what you think and if it is to your liking or not.

Perhaps you should reread Part I, found here, to refresh your memory about the misadventures of our cute little Polltaker Rebecca and come back her to read this next chapter.

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

“Wait! Wait ! Wwhaaaayyy!” she yelled running down the street waving her hands in the air like a mad woman. “Damm you! Wait!”

The rumble of the loud diesel engine pulling away shattered the otherwise quiet morning just as she raced towards the bottom of the steep street. Still at a distance she attempted to make eye contact with the bus-driver, literally waving frantically to get his attention, to get him to stop. The bus pulled away just as she reached the corner.

HONK, HONK!

He gave her a double salute as he mouthed something at her, seemingly unimpressed with the free show that the bright morning sunlight was revealing under her dress and that he would be further treated to as she got closer had he stuck around to see. Instead, he just caught sight of her in the large rear-view side mirror in her sun-drenched outfit, as she jumped up and down in the breezy morning.

As her only means of transportation into town for the next forty-something-odd minutes roared away, she kicked the ground angrily and yelled out her self-frustration, at yet another one of her inpatient led stupid decisions. She should have waited for the bus at the previous stop instead of losing patience and deciding to take the shortcut to the next stop; to this stop. Some shortcut that was, she thought shaking her head in self-anger.

Standing on the empty street corner catching her breath and assessing her unproductive morning; she debated her next move. She could simply admit defeat and go home, and deal with the consequences that would await her; plus acknowledgment that he was right, that she should have accepted his offers to help at least. That or decide to trek forward now on foot toward more productive signature-gathering ground, towards this little country town’s sad excuse of a downtown.

She was close to accepting defeat despite dreading the familiar lecture of “not being able to see things through” that was to come from him if she did. She was frustrated enough to deal with his I-told-you-so tone, had it not meant having to trudge all the way back home on rural roads, trudging back up the hill – all in heels. Damn heels.

She stared at her clipboard as the breeze fluttered what was left of her blank voter registration forms that had not been lost previously, the decision was made. Accepting defeat, she decided to rid herself of the heels in order to somewhat ease the retreat home.

She leaned against the bus stop pole and just as she bent forward to unhook her strap, the ever opportunistic wind blew a fierce chilling gust directly at her. The lightweight dress was pulled back like a theater curtain to reveal a full-view and complete spectacle of her ripe bottom, thanks to her size-too-small panties and wedging themselves deep, becoming lost between her cheeks, as she leaned forward and over to remove her heel.

The unexpected chill forced her to drop the clipboard in order to grab tighter onto the bus stop pole and brace herself with both hands. As the wind blew against her, her dress and her modesty were being sacrificed as she was helpless to fight back without the use of her hands. She swung right then left, in and out; all in an attempt to shield the light-weight material from being entirely caught by the wind once again. Had anyone come upon her at that precise moment they would not have understood her defensive dance against the elements, but instead, have mistaken her gyrating as her public practicing of a dance routine against a makeshift stripper pole.

However, she was determined not to give anyone a free show she told herself as she released her tight grip on the pole to grab for her escaping hem while still in a flamingo stance; an attempt to keep her bare foot off the cold wet floor. Unfortunately, her moves were all too uncoordinated and next thing she knew she lost her balance and found herself crashing into the pavement, bottom first. 



A moment later her long hair was swirling in the wind and blinding her, a small mercy of hiding her pitiful face now on the verge of tears. Potential tears at the realization that not only had the wind won, having whipped up her dress for an extended slow-motioned minute just before she landed, but it now kept her dress waving and leaving her on full display.  The lightweight dress once more fluttered like an inverted parachute while the force of the constant breeze would have snapped her dress right off had it not been for her ample breasts and sleeves keeping it attached to her small frame.

She sat defeated, her bottom against the unforgiving pavement, spread legged while her dress and hair fluttered in competition around her. Not ready to stand up, guessing it less of a show to remain seated, she slowly became aware of a growing cold sensation. No, this really can’t be, she thought upon realization of what was happening. The cold dampness of the morning pavement was rapidly soaking into her underwear and no doubt increasing the transparency of her already thin and sheer panties. She really wanted to cry; unable to muster up the energy to stand up yet not believing the added insult to injury.
 
Her dismay suddenly doubled when she heard a car engine approaching with the simultaneous blaring of music. She parted her hair with her hands to see an oncoming truck and immediately scrambled, fighting against the wind, to get back on her feet. No, no, no, there is no way they are going to see me like this she mumbled to herself recognizing the 4x4 pickup.

She was on her feet in seconds scurrying to gather her clipboard and make a quick dash towards the nearest house. She spotted the front gate feeling that salvation from true embarrassment was within her grasp when she slapped her forehead in the realization that she had left her heels behind.

She dashed back. Bending over in a running stance she managed to scoop up one heel, stretched for the other but not before she slipped backward on the morning dew. She landed with a solid bounce, her ample bottom surprisingly not cushioning enough of the harsh impact, she squealed out in pain. She recovered in an instant, saved from serious injury thanks to her rear-weighted fall, but not without further sacrificing her dress and her sheer pantie covered bottom to the wind.

(You may need to click on the picture to activate this great GIF.)

Glancing over her shoulder to eye the approaching truck she sprinted to the chain link gate hoping they hadn’t caught an eyeful of her damp covered bottom. For if they had not only would they get a full visual treat, but what would they imagine was the cause of the wetness. She fumbled with the cold steel latch before finally slamming the tall gate behind her as she heard the vehicle drive past. Her back against the chain-link, she dared not turn around for fear of being recognized, for fear of what they might have seen.

Her thin fingers grasping the chain link for the life preserver it seemed to be as she closed her eyes and slowly attempted to catch her breath while wishing herself away.

Her momentary respite was interrupted by an odd feeling. She felt a strange sensation at her ankles and reacting to it as any other itch, instinctively taking her toes and rubbed them against the spot without ever opening her eyes.

Grrrrr…Grrrwlll…Rowff!

“OhmaGawd!” Rebecca leaped up against the fence with full force.

Rowff! Rowff! Rowff!

“OhmaGawd! Fuccc!” her eyes bulged as she came face to face with a growling beast.

“Nnnnn…nice doggy…nnn…” she mumbled to the vicious looking black-eyed hound.

Rowff! Rowff! Rowff!

There was nowhere for her to go as she was trapped with her back against the gate. She scanned the overgrown yard for another way out but saw nothing; while her one hand fumbled behind her frantically attempting to find the latch. She grasped randomly without ever taking her eyes off the four-legged beast who continued his ear-piercing barking at her.

In that instant, she became fully aware of her entire body; from the sweat on her brow to the flush of her face, the feel of the small light hair on her arms standing on edge. She felt her chest, which was visibly inhaling and exhaling, aware of her nipples that were now feeling more exposed to the elements than they had all morning; their stiffness aching, having slipped from her under her ill-fitting bra and now piercing directly against the thin yet taught cotton dress.

With no way out she was about to fully despair when she heard a whistle and call that her mind did not fully process at that moment. The salivating hound stopped immediately at the command, backed away, and barked out a chorus at her once more before turning and running up the small dirt path towards the house and disappeared.

Seemingly saved, she let out a small whine of relief. But it was short-lived as she heard boot-steps coming from the house, and her heart nearly burst from her chest when she made eye contact with what she could only assume was the owner of the rabid hound. Zeroing in on his well-worn John Deer cap, she followed his unshaven chiseled face line for a few seconds before her eyes immediately dropped further. Dropping to the cold thickness he held in front of him; the imposing girth of the unforgiving polished double barrels of a shotgun.

Mesmerized and intimidated by the threatening power held in the man’s uncovered muscular arms, she released a full body shiver followed by a tremble of panic. The sensation made her fully aware of her entire body once more, this time beginning with the awareness of involuntary warm tears slowly rolling down her face. This was followed by another strange feeling between her legs. No longer just the uncomfortable cold moisture of the morning dew that had penetrated her panties earlier. No this was different. She closed her eyes tight again, beginning to pout audibly, bouncing in place while coming to the sudden humiliating realization of the undeniable fact of what she had just done.

Warm fluid flooded the small cotton crotch of her snug white panties. She pursed her lips and blew out slowly and repeated, trying to control her panicking breaths as an ongoing torrent pooled within her skintight briefs. She immediately spread her knees and tip-toed awkwardly in place at a failed attempt to separate her skin from the rapidly rising moisture. In an instant the sheer fabric had absorbed its fill. Unable to contain any more, the liquid in her tiny panties poured out, cascading down her bare legs.

She squatted down in hopes of stopping the jetstream, but the warm sputtering streams simply rushed down her inner thighs faster, spreading wildly around her bare legs. She couldn't believe it, her pee shot out of her like an open faucet, now drenching through the barely there sheer panties, puddling in the dirt at her uncovered feet while sending mud splattering back against both her naked thighs and her ample bottom cheeks.

She crouched there in a sight of wet pitifulness; her hair disheveled and makeup running black down her cheeks. She reached back and wrapped her dress tightly around her feminine curves, in a failed attempt at some modesty. Instead, the dress uncomfortably cradled her bottom as if she were wearing a sagging, wet diaper which in fact was what her soggy and stained panties now resembled.

Teary-eyed, she remained squatted; scrunching her recently manicured but now dirty toes anxiously into the wet ground uncertain of what to do next. She heard an unexpected gruff voice call out and it nearly sent her toppling backward into her own puddle.

“Who’s there?! Who’s trespassing?! Answer me or I will fill your trespassing ass with buckshot!” 

.………


So what did you all think of the further adventures of our little Polltaker Rebecca?
Did you enjoy that? Worth reading more about her? 
Please share your thoughts.