Autumn Morning: Part III

Here is the latest installment of the extended story about the misadventures of our cute little Polltaker Rebecca. Not sure if overall you are enjoying this tale or not. I have had some feedback about some scenes not being to everyone's liking which is fair. This entire story is a bit different than my usual stories in that I intentionally wanted to explore some other areas of personal (and hopefully shared) interest.  Regardless I always appreciate your honest feedback. 

  
To refresh your memory, you can reread Part I, found here,
and Part II, found here.

Fair Warning:

There are some minimal references more subtle than in the previous chapter, that might make some readers uncomfortable. 

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Grr…Grrrwlll!
Grrrwwowl!
Rowlff! Rowlff! 

“Go away!” Rebecca attempted to shoo away the growling beast that had once more seemed to magically appear out of nowhere. She continued to shoo the animal away, now less concerned about the actual four-legged threat before her and more so if the barking mutt would end up revealing her location to its gun-toting owner; whom still surprisingly seemed to not have figured out where she was. Grateful for small mercies, that her squatting between the overgrown shrubs and the gate seemed to have apparently provided enough of a camouflage.

Grrrrr…Grrrwlll!
Rowllff!

The dog moved ever closer to the intruder. Her original upright threatening posture now diminished greatly as she crouched down, practically on all fours, squatted with her arms wrapped around her knees in a failed attempt to make herself invisible. 

“Shhoo! I said, go away you stupid dog!” she dared to raise her voice only so much.

The dog simply turned its head in a questioning gesture at her latest dismissal before scampering in a circle appearing to retreat. Unfortunately, rather than run away as she had hoped; he stood his ground. He sniffed the air repeatedly, snorted loudly in her direction, just before he charged; straight into her.

“Hey!”, she was pushed forward in shock and nearly toppled over as she felt the hound’s large face bump solidly into her pert bottom. 

Thus the official assault began as she felt the hound repeatedly prod into her.

“Hey! Hey! Stop it!” She scolded as she felt its hard snout digging into her thin dress. 

The rabid-looking dog was determined and proceeded to burrow into her. She shuddered as she felt his large wet nose on her thinly veiled bottom, felt it dragging down right between her clearly defined cheeks. She had been holding her dress tightly around her feminine curves, which now only served to aid the hound in his search for a specific target.

The scent of her soaked panties either had no effect on him or was in fact what was drawing him in. She couldn’t decide which it was but had no time to figure it out as her legs were suddenly spread wide as the hound’s entire head was now under her thighs. She felt the dogs boney skull coming in from behind, lifting her from underneath while its nose continued to poke and prod attempting to gain access under her dress. She could see its snout dart out forward between her legs when in an instant her dress was pushed back and instantly snapped up over the small of her back. Her wide ripe bottom was now left on full display thanks to both the fabric's transparency and the skin-tight fit of her panties, even without their additionally compromised state.

She lept up in order to save herself from a full-on assault on her ass. Once on her feet she turned to run, but was immediately pulled back; a tugging resistance attempting to hold her down. Searching over her shoulder, her eyes doubled in size as she saw her dress being yanked down by the gnashing fangs of the hound.

“No, no; no! Stop it!” she let out a high-pitched whisper still afraid to fully scream and reveal her location.

Rebecca grabbed tight to the lightweight fabric and began a tug-a-war to save her dress. Finally, realizing that the beast had no intention of relenting, she concluded there was nothing else to do, but scream. 

The problem was, she attempted to scream, but couldn’t. After multiple failed attempts her voice finally released an audible, “FucEnDammitt!” as she tugged with all her might only to be blasted with a gust of cold wind.

……………..

Slapped with the blast of cold air, she bolted upright, gasping for breath. It took her a few seconds to recognize her familiar surroundings.

“Oh! Thank Gawd,” she exclaimed, only to be interrupted by the bedsheets slipping away from her. 

Following the moving trail, she glanced down over the side of the bed and was greeted by a playful puppy, trying desperately to wake her by removing the sheets.

“Oh, you silly dog! Give me that.” relieved to see the familiar sight of their younger dog.



She pulled the bunched white sheet under the dog’s feet and the small lab bit the fabric once more, determined to keep it from going back to its rightful owner. Shivering, she attempted to cover herself with the fleeting corner of the crisp sheet to no avail. She glanced straight down and her erect nipples saluted her, standing at full attention against the cold temperature of the room. Her surprise turned to realization as she discovered the reason for her extra chills; she was naked under the sheets. 

The small dog pulled at the last of the bedcovers until she gave in and released her grip. Hesitantly slithering out of bed, she scampered over to the window. As she leaned up to reach the window pane, she became aware of a constant throbbing pain. Ignoring it for the moment, she pulled down at the double pane window to shut the cold breeze out; just as she thought she heard unrecognizable barking from down below. She modestly peeked out the window only enough to catch a glimpse of their other dog excitedly running in circles. Strange she thought, as she could have sworn it had not sounded like their Husky; in fact, it almost sounded like two dogs.

What time was it, she asked herself, looking around the slowly darkening room. The shadows were too long and dark for it to be morning; the revelation of the actual time slowly became clear as she focused on the clock on the dresser. How could it possibly be so late? It was practically dinner time!
 
She headed towards the closet to find something to shield herself from the chill, when she saw that he had laid out an outfit for her, much in the same way as he often did. Pulling the short dress over her head, she smoothed it down and walked to the full-length mirror out of habit to check the fit despite having worn the dress countless times. She spun around to check her rear view when her eyes caught a glimpse of something within her own reflection. 

A hint of pink just under the length of the dress caused her to pull the dress up to confirm. Despite the fading sunlight, something was undeniably clear. A full blushing hue painted her bottom cheeks and left no doubt that her bottom had been spanked. She struggled to get a better view over her shoulder, grasping for a full view of her cheeks. 

“Ohmagawd! So it wasn’t a dream!” 

……….

Rebecca pressed her fingertip against the redness of her bottom cheek and her skin flashed to a contrasting white causing her to jump, suddenly aware of the sensitivity of the entire area.  

“Owww! Damn, that hurts!”

Ever so gently, she placed her petite palm flat against her bottom cheek directly over a clear outline of a much larger hand-print. Double the size of hers, the hand-print wrapped around her cheek and was still radiating heat off her spanked flesh. In that instant, a flurry of mixed emotions came over her. Yet they all collectively took her back to that morning; taken back to those surreal series of events, which were now clearly proven to be a harsh reality. 

Even if well-intending close friends would have suggested the high probability of an unproductive morning due to the nature of the job; she wouldn’t have believed any of it and simply shrugged them off as jealous types wanting to deter her ambitions. If a fortune-teller would have cautioned her to never step out of the house that morning despite the temptation of making some quick easy cash, she wouldn’t have listened. Even if that same all-knowing, fifty-percent accuracy averaging gypsy would have warned her that if she chose to defy fate and venture out that she would be confronted with harsh tests from nature, animal and man; all seemingly set against her achieving her goals that day. None of it would have mattered for she was stubbornly determined to prove to him, to prove to herself, that she could do things more than just handling the mundane everyday household chores and looking after two dogs.
 
Often times fate lacks humor. That is, to clarify, it lacks humor when you are the butt of the joke and this morning no doubt Rebecca clearly felt as if she were. 

……….

“Who’s there?! Who’s trespassing on my private property?!”

She attempted to peek over the overgrown shrubs without having to stand fully upright in an attempt to get a good look at the owner of the gruff no-nonsense voice.

“Show yourself or I’ll shoot. I have every right to ya’ know. Private property. My property and you’re trespassin!’"

Perhaps she could just explain to the man why she had trespassed. It actually wasn’t even "trespassing" officially as the gate was unlocked and she wasn’t planning on stealing anything. She was just to trying to save her decency from the wind and anyone passing by, so she panicked, and ran…and….all she had wanted to do was earn some money... some extra cash to help with the bills... well not the house bills exactly...but her expenses...her spending money...
Rebecca’s mind often raced as fast as her lips normally did when she was nervous and trying to explain herself. 
 
She snapped back to the moment and questioned herself, how could she have let this happen to herself…how? How? How?!

It was clear she had no choice, but to stand up, show herself and attempt to explain or risk being shot in hiding. Actually shot. Imagine being shot here, in this outfit; this wasn’t even her best outfit - not even close. To top it off they would find her in this state; hair disheveled hair and makeup running black down her cheeks...
Her mind rambled on until she told herself to stop.

With a surge of energy, she was able to force herself to raise her body slowly. She was slowly putting her hands up, held timidly over her head in surrender.

She called out, “Sir. Sir. Ppplease ddon’t…” 

As she rose the shotgun slowly came into her line of sight until she was facing it directly at eye level. In her mind, it felt inches away from her face, yet in reality, it was no closer to her than a football field. What was undeniably clear, was that a shotgun was pointed in her general direction. As she fixated on the aim of the double barrels, she once more felt a surge of panic within her skintight briefs. It made no significant difference to their already ruined state, rather it only emphasized and reminded her of their damp sagging weight.

She tried to ignore that particular humiliating part of her current predicament and spoke up again “Sir. Sir.” 

It was then that she realized that she was unintentionally whispering and opened her mouth wider to speak up, when…


“Hey Walter!” came an unexpected shout. “How’s it going, ol’man! What you hunting out  here this morning, gopher?!”

Rebecca’s turned to her left and saw a masculine figure appear from the far side of the expansive yard. The figure, between her and the property owner, was walking sideways closer towards her direction. Between the swaying tall weeds and the overgrown bushes with dangling branches, she struggled to make out his face. 

“Daniel?! Daniel from the Church, is that you?”

Ohmagawd! Rebecca nearly screamed out, it was Daniel! It was Daniel! She wanted to scream out in glee, look everyone, it's my man - I’m saved! 

And then it hit her, uh oh. This might not be so good. Sure she was possibly saved, but how was she going to explain how she got in this dangerous predicament. On top of all the extended explaining that she would have to do, she was a visual mess and she definitely didn’t want him seeing her in this state. 

Her attention refocused as she watched Daniel who was apparently trying to distract the older man.

“Of course it's me Walter; don't you recognize a friendly voice when you hear one?!” he shouted towards the porch, across the unkept and overgrown dwarf lemon trees. 

Without turning around he seemed to be tilting his head and subtlety pointing with his hands towards the direction from which he came. 

“What are you doing in my yard? You nearly got yourself shot you dumb ass grunt.” 

“Easy there. Gophers, got you a bit anxious this morning, Wally? Why don’t you put that damn shotgun down and we can have a conversation.”

Daniel was trying to calm his gun-tooting acquaintance while trying to signal to Rebecca to make a run for it. Unfortunately, she wasn’t getting it.

“Gophers; shhhs. It was some critter perhaps, probably beaver, my guess; Diablo here was all excited about something. I know I heard the gate rattle; something probably climbed under it.”

Daniel continued the conversation, walking directly in between her and the rifle that remained pointed in her direction. Turning over his shoulder, he shot her an ever-familiar firm look clearly disappointed that she wasn’t understanding his obvious subtle hand signals.

It appeared that Walter apparently had still not actually seen her and Daniel thought it was best to keep it that way. Glancing over his shoulder once more, he stared directly into her eyes as he jerked his head unmistakably left and signaled with one hand for her to stay down and pointed for her to run.

“Ooooh!!"  she answered him audibly upon being enlightened; then immediately slapped both her hands across her mouth catching her additional mistake. "Oops, sorry.”

He glared at her thoughtlessness. She understood his glare all too well and without further clarification, she made a mad dash out of the massive yard, behind her hero and away from the double-barrel threat and his growling side-kick. 

As Rebecca would later relate the details, she kept running until she was clear on the other side of the house, with the determination to reach the safety of her boyfriend’s recognizable truck as soon as possible. The truth was just a bit different. She ran like she was being chased by bees. In fairness, she was fearing for her safety, but a straight path would have made the most sense. A straight path as opposed to the zig-zagging through the overgrown weeds and dangling branches that snagged and grabbed at her dress, slowing her down at every move. Slowed down and instantly annoyed, she lost patience within a minute and turned to the first solution to come to her mind. She hiked up her dress, clear of the waist-high foxtails weeds and ran with her dress clear above her waist; modesty no longer her main concern.

Daniel couldn't help but release a chuckle out loud as he fixated at the show she was putting on. He grinned watching her as she hopped between bushes, her ample bottom jiggling wildly. Those panties are indeed smaller than I thought he concluded as he watched the comparatively tiny swatch of cotton unable to stay in their proper place, exposing ever more of her cheeks as she ran.

She reached the end of the paved drive, having every intention to keep running, not knowing where, but just intent on running. She was stopped within seconds and unable to run further once the unpaved, gravel path became unbearable on her feet. It wasn’t until she actually had stopped, catching her breath and trying to stay clear of the jagged rocks, that she had realized that she was in fact next to a familiar pickup truck. 

She immediately opened the passenger door and began to climb into to the welcome shelter when she froze. 

“Dammit!” she blurted out.

She couldn’t sit down. Well she could, but she shouldn’t, she argued with herself.

“Dammit, you and your habits” she cursed him. 

Daniel kept his truck clean and organized which might seem a contradiction to some for a vehicle designed for hard-work. It wasn’t to say that there wasn’t any dust or dirt in the truck; not like those city boys who had trucks but never hauled more than a grocery run in their truck beds. Nor was it a mud-caked 4x4 like those other guys who never washed their trucks as if the brown frosting was a trophy. He just believed in keeping things neat and in order, it followed his personality that he believed in taking care of his hard-earned things; all of them.

If she sat down she worried she would leave evidence of her unfortunate situation on his seat, but how would she get home without sitting down? She really just wanted to get in, not say a word and have him drive her, drive her away; drive her all the way home. Her mind was lost on a cluster of debate as she backed up on the running-board. Unable to make a decision, she cursed him and stomped her foot down on the metal edge in her typical dramatic pout. 

Her foot missed. The next thing she knew she was pin-balling against the door, the door frame and then the side of the truck bed; spinning around, long bare legs flailing, before greeting the pavement. 

It would have appeared at first glance that she was fortunate; fortunate enough to have landed on her well-cushioned bottom as opposed to some other part of her anatomy that was unaccustomed to sudden pain.

Unfortunately, the harsh gravel path was as sympathetic as it was pretty and the large loose rocks dug deep upon contact with her pert bottom. Neither her thin dress, let alone the skin-tight, sheer panties, added any useful protection. 

“Muthu.Ofgawd!” she yelped out on impact and once more was posed by misfortune; unwillingly spread-legged with her dress hiked high. She sat there pitifully, wincing and audibly pouting, wondering how her day had gone so wrong.

A small cloud of dust broke her concentration as it morphed into a pair of approaching boots before her eyes. She took a deep breath, looked down at herself hoping she didn't look as bad as she felt. Looking closer, she reached down and felt between her legs and was given the obvious answer, to which she merely responded with a huff, blowing her disheveled hair out of her face. Especially due to her anxious state, she was now more ready than ever to greet his welcome, no matter how critical, face.

He approached her ever so slowly taking in every detail of the scenic view laid out before him. He was greeted foremost by the cute dirty beacons of her toes as he followed the path of long bare legs spread wide, now streaked with dark dried dirt lines, all the way up. All the way to the ever inviting center stage between them; covered by a mere snug triangle of white transparency.

“Well, aren’t you the precious sight, Young Lady. 

Well one thing is for sure.  

From the looks of things, I think he was right;
I do believe there was a wild beaver on the loose.”

Feeling defeated, she slowly glanced up at his face ignoring his comment. Without a further second’s hesitation, she pushed herself off the floor and lept up into his arms; jumping high enough to wrap her bare legs around him. His muscular arms caught her and wrapped  around her, squeezing her tight and kissing the top of her head. Now completely held off the ground and warming herself in his embrace, her arms and legs squeezed tighter and held onto him as she felt herself about to erupt in an explosion of mixed emotion.

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A lot going on wouldn't you agree? And could this be the happy ending?
If so then how did she get that spanked bottom?

Well the story isn't over just quite yet. I would keep going, but this chapter seems long enough. Hope you enjoyed this enough to return for the final chapter. Or are you done with this tale?

As always, appreciate your feedback.