Wednesday, June 19, 2019

Windy Wednesday Plus

In case the title sums it up too concisely, I offer the following expanded explanation.

What: Windy Wednesday

Why: Because it is Wednesday.  And I need a smile!
And so much of the details in the following full picture makes me smile. 

(Can you name a few?) 

Who: Two naughty girls for slightly different reasons.
Click to Enlarge. Should be a notable large file.

As an aside, had either of these been my girl, let's just say they wouldn't be sitting comfortably for the entire day. 

Unfair, you'd argue?


One, Miss Butterfly, should have been paying more attention to her skirt and the other should have warned her. And in turn, the other should have paid more attention to the rule of wearing dark panties under white dresses and in turn, Miss Butterfly should have told her to change the moment she noticed, because it had to be obvious; right? 

Thus, I prove my point that a spanking for both would be fair. 
See, I knew you would see my point.


Speaking of windblown issues, I have a question.
Because if you are a regular here, you know that I have a certain fondness for windblown skirts and thus have always been curious.

Ladies: Truth - Tell me honestly, has the wind ever not been your friend by unexpectedly making a sail of your outfit?

Gents (if you wish to play along): Truth -
Tell me honestly, any real life first hand tales of windy blown beauties you care to share? 

To be clear only interested in true stories.


Oh, and in case you haven’t had the opportunity, please read my most recent story excerpt. It can be found one post back. Or for your convenience, simply by clicking HERE
And please do share your thoughts on that story as well.

Monday, June 10, 2019

No Waiting, Cosmetics: Revisited

Happy Monday. I have been M.I.A. here for awhile not that anyone probably noticed or missed me. Regardless, without the time to share a full new story, I searched the archives to bring you a treat. A story I originally published a few years back (yes years, believe it or not). I am re-sharing it now, updated and edited in hopes of it brightening your day. Please let me know if it does just that. It is a favorite of mine. Maybe it will become a new favorite of yours or perhaps it already is?


Summer in the City. An international urban scene in the midst of a heatwave within an air-conditioned oasis.

"No waiting Cosmetics" she offered in a well rehearsed, yet utterly unenthusiastic tone. The chain-store pharmacy clerk had stepped out from around the aisle and waved at the long cue of customers.

An elderly woman was checking out at the main register and was having trouble with the entire process beginning with the basics; hearing the cashier properly to counting out the correct change. Add in the modern day extra steps of having to enter a Rewards Card number; plus throw in the necessities of attempting to scan crumpled coupons, all combined to clog the bottleneck checkout process further. Consequently a line of mid-day customers had backed up behind her. Despite their international features, the majority shared her age demographic, and perhaps often been in a similar situation, none seemed to be bothered too much by the slow down.

That is all but one customer who was not of the same demographic, far from it in fact. It was a young lady draped in a short flowly summer dress, whom had caught my eye earlier thanks to the combination of a short hem and her nonchalant attitude. Her carefree bending over had treated me to quite a tease of a show as if she were all alone bending over to pick up discarded clothes off her bedroom floor. Granted this isn't the best analogy as she struck me as the type of girl who didn't pick up after herself routinely, if at all. In fact, her shopping method consisted of inspecting items and returning them randomly to shelves in a careless and haphazard method as if her maid would follow up shortly and rearrange things properly.

She was currently next in line behind the elderly woman at the register and had proceeded to go into a tirade to her friend via her cellphone. She was going on about how she couldn't believe the lack of open registers, how old people are just so slow, and why do they have to pay in change, have they never heard of a credit card – on and on. She was spewing her anger to her friend without any attempt of lowering her voice; sprinkling in complaints about the "unbearable" heat for added measure (despite the fact that we were on a temporary reprieve from the City's latest heatwave thanks to the store's overcompensating A.C.).

I cleared my throat loudly, repeatedly; to cut off her rude comments. The flustered young lady merely turned around once, stared at me without regard and continued on. Granted she wasn't screaming; simply speaking in a normal tone, yet loud enough for all around to hear (well at least those whose hearing aides were turned up). It was rude regardless and that is where I tend to lose patience with most; especially with the rudeness of young ladies.
The pharmacy cosmetic clerk waved over the flustered young lady. "No waiting Cosmetics" she repeated in her soft Russian accent.


Although I hadn't been called over as well, I followed in pace with the loud flip-flopping and audible huffing of the rude young lady in front of me. As her turn at the register had "finally" come up, I was once again treated to a peek of white cotton as she unloaded her small shopping basket.

The magic of this rare, but heart rising public upskirt sighting was unfortunately lost to the young lady's attitude. Her continued griping of how others were making her late continued to take away form the beauty of this rare candid view. Never speaking to nor acknowledging the cashier, she carried on her cellphone conversation without lowering her phone from her ear as her check-out process was slowed by her one-handed process. The combination of her overall rudeness and her hypocritical ways finally sent me over the edge.  

"I don't understand old people; just 'cause they aren't in a hurry doesn't mean…."

"You know you could learn some manners." Against the better judgement of my internal voice telling me to let it go; I interrupted her as I plucked the cellphone from her hand. 

"You could learn a little patience as well" I added. "That lil' old lady checking out earlier was doing her best. I bet you didn't even notice her arthritic hands, did you?"

"Excuse me! I...I.. What, who are you?" she shook her head at me, confused and caught off guard while she grasped for her phone which I held over her head and out of reach easily due to her petite stature. 

"Hey, give me back my phone!" she demanded. Fearing that her lifeline was escaping, she stretched with all her might, tip-toeing to reach it. 

She stopped only upon hearing a soft gasp from the cashier. She immediately tugged at the end of her dress at the realization that it had been rising with her every stretch.

"I think you embarrassed that lady with your rude comments" I explained, ignoring her request. 

"It's hot...and she was taking too long. They didn't..." she rambled off her prior complaints.

"Can I ask you something?" I cut her off.

She continued stretching her artificial tanned arm towards her phone which I continued to hold above my head as her phone called out for her, "Christy? Christy? Are you still there? Who..."

"Are you always this rude or only when you have your panties literally all up in a wad?"

Her eyes dilated instantly, obviously insulted, as she attempted, but failed to form a quick enough response.

"Well, are you?!" I demanded in an unintentionally yet overly-effective commanding voice which caused a pair of customers to take a step back.

"A...ahhh...I am nnnoott!" she whined and in a fitting mature reflex, kicked my shin in protest. 

Thanks to her heat inspired choice of footwear, she hurt her toes more than she had hurt me. Shaking the pain out of her foot and dangling her flip-flop off in the process, she glared at me uncertain of what to do or try next. 

Unfortunately for her and regardless of the fact that I wasn't hurt, she had crossed the line in my book; indeed she had drawn first and now I would have the last say.

I looked down at her and took a deep breath, puffing out my chest and allowing any trace of a smile on my face to entirely disappear. 

"You know what you need young lady? You need to be taught an old fashion lesson in patience and manners!"

Her nostrils flared, in reactive anger as she placed her hands on her hips in a defiant stance as a buildup to some speech justifying her actions no doubt. Unfazed, I methodically put her phone in my back pocket, handed my cold drink to one of the ladies who grabbed for it graciously as I slowly proceeded to roll up my sleeves. 

"Wait...wwhaat? What are you doing?" she stuttered not fully understanding my intent, yet certainly worried by my threatening gestures.
 Without another word, I grabbed her firmly by the arm and swung her around and over the small glass cosmetic check-out counter. In a matter of seconds the scene was set and she was bent over.

"Oh yes, this is going to be good" one of the senior ladies whispered as another next to her nodded. A language barrier might of existed between those two; but their joint approval was obvious in their wrinkled smiles.


A unified exclamation, from a gathering chorus of senior ladies, overtook the sound of the Muzak the instant my initial strike hit her plump bottom.




"What the..?!" she looked at me in shock, "What the hell are you doing?"


With minimal force, I had landed three open palm slaps over her light-weight summer dress. She swung her arms and kicked her legs wildly as if I had truly beat her. Perhaps the size of my hand, compared to her petite stature was causing enough of an impact, but the generous cushioning in her ample bottom led me to believe otherwise. 

I carried on while attempting to steer clear as best I could of her flailing limbs, while keeping her down with one hand. With my other open palm, I seized every opportunity, I could to strike at the ample target. 



A mere half dozen solid smacks later and I was in desperate need to rest my ears from the seemingly exaggerated screeching coming from the disciplined brat. I paused prepared to conclude her lesson, raising my arm high ready to deliver one final reverberating slap; when I felt a tug at my shirt sleeve holding my swing back.

Turning around, I was met with the face of experience, topped by a bright babushka. “Oh, great,” I thought to myself as I was ready to defend my actions, yet uncertain of how it would go based on an assumed language barrier.


"In my country we use this; szczotka. You use!" she placed it in my open hand, patted my back and nudged me forward to attend to the matter at hand.

Christy looked over her shoulder having witnessed the whole exchange, immediately stared at me with pleading eyes.

"Wha? Whaat?! No!
OhmaGawd! Ppplease, don't!" she squealed.

"I was going to stop, but it looks like the jury here, thinks you have yet to learn your lesson." 

I shrugged and proceeded to flip up her short dress. The cold rush of the A.C. slapped her with escalated embarrassment. She couldn't believe this was happening; not only was she being spanked, but spanked in front of an approving audience and now about to be truly chastised with a wooden brush. And yet the realization, possibly the worst of all, of having her dress hiked up to reveal, not a pair of her sexy skimpies,
but rather now on full display for all to see were her embarrassingly frumpy, what she often referred to as her holey pair, panties.

The view revealed was not entirely what I expected. Yes, her protruding firm bottom looked delicious, but before me was not just white panties as had been teased; but white cotton panties with a blue floral pattern. The simple material with the immature pattern of dainty periwinkle flowers sparsely scattered about seemed out of character of the arrogance of the young lady.

"Well they are hardly bunched up at all. Hardly a reason to be in a foul mood. 
Here, let me fix that right now and give you an excuse for your attitude." 

I grabbed at each of the leg openings gathering the material together and crammed it tight and high between her tanned ample checks to create a floral patterned bouquet wedgie.
Owww! Ow! Oh ffuuuc..." she blurted out squirming and pedaling to break free from the wedged cotton.

"Mind your mouth, young lady" I scolded just before the initial sound of wood striking against unprotected flesh reverberated. 

Owww! Owww! Ohhhh....Ppplease….pplease…ssstop!" The whines of the young lady were repeated over and over as I brought the thick heavy brush down on alternating sides over and over, easily hitting bare cheeks as I held her underwear out of the way.

The stoic cosmetic clerk having completed her paid task of the packing of the paper bag, simply waited patiently throughout the scene unfolding in front of her. She looked on as if she was merely waiting for just another customer to retrieve a nickel from the bottom of an over-sized purse. She would occasionally react, only wincing when the heavy brush made contact with its target. Yet it seemed she was reacting more to the audible sound then the uncommon scene taking place in front of her.   

Then out of nowhere she reached out and grabbed Christy's flailing hands; holding them in her own and stretching them towards her over the counter. I wasn't sure if it was intended as a sympathetic consolatory hand-holding of the young lady who's punishment was being painted a blushing red; or meant as a supportive gesture towards me in the assisted restraint of a difficult customer. Regardless, the spanking was now being delivered unhindered.  

Christy abruptly seized her verbal protests, gritted her teeth and closed her eyes to keep the tears from bursting through and began breathing heavily through her mouth. With her eyes closed she hoped of awakening from this public humiliation dream and the involuntary response to an excitement growing in her that she couldn't explain. 

I swung the wooden brush high and brought it down with an echoing sting against her plump cheeks. She lurched forward in a failed attempt to escape the spanking, causing her dress to inch ever higher with each slap and her chest to rub against the glass counter. Not only was she regretting her poor choice of underwear this morning, but she was also regretting not having worn a bra as her nipples stiffened against the cold glass.




The spankings were repeatedly delivered as the desired effect was becoming clear to the international judges who were starting to look satisfied. However, remembering that my beverage might have been out of the store cooler for far too long and would be warm; I stopped.


"Will there be anything else, sir?" the cosmetic girl asked in an almost Pavlovian response as if she had been waiting patiently for me to stop. The question was asked almost out of habit and in a fully rehearsed, but in an emotionally-void tone. She stared across at me simply waiting for an answer while apart from still holding her hands, completing ignoring Christy.

"Will there be anything else, young lady? Have you learned your lesson? Ready to apologize?" I whispered.

"Apologize?! Screw you!" She shot back. "You ffu..." she leaned back and attempted to get upright, but froze suddenly aware of something thick and stiff against her bottom. I pushed  into her warmed cheeks aligning myself dead center along her practically bare bottom crevice.

"Yes, there is something else!” I replied to the helpful cashier.

I proceeded to grab Christy's white cotton flowery panties, wedging them deeper into her crack and pulled upwards; offering the clerk a better view over the counter of their faded and worn state.
Christy gritted her teeth in angst as she was held like a hooked fish, almost dangling by her panties. "Do you sell women's panties?" I asked.

"We do have lady's panties; those, those are not."

"If you could get some. In large, please." I instructed as I sized up her bottom matter-of-factually.

"Extra-large you mean" a voice in the crowd snickered. 

"Extra-large," I repeated.

"What?! I am not extra large! Let mmmeee goooo!" She glared at the gathered accomplices as she attempted to push herself off the counter.

Holding her down, I reared my arm and swung once more delivering a solitary full force smack of the brush squarely across her throbbing bare cheeks in a nonverbal order to stay put. The solid impact of wood delivered the message instantly to her brain as she stiffen up and immediately ceased her struggling although her ample bottom continued to twerk and jiggle in an uncontrollable reflex.


"I'm sorry we have only large;" the clerk smiled at me and winked at my fellow customer still trapped against the counter. "but I think they might be too small.
And control-top style might be best, but this is the closest we have" she explained further, offering me the retrieved assorted color pack of rayon panties. 

"Good idea" I replied acknowledging the helpful suggestion while Christy mumbled something about what she did or did not need and not wearing or only wearing certain brands.


I wasn't paying that close attention as I had more important matters to attend to as I straddled the pouty young lady's legs in order to keep her in place, now needing use of both my hands to rip open the package. Selecting the blushing pink pair, I unraveled the self-clinging fabric and held them in place over her perky wide bottom and measured by stretching the fabric to reach the ends of her hips and in turn stretching them to sheerness.

"Actually, these will be just fine. No doubt snug and tight, but the effect will be perfect; a more proper fit then these dingy lil' things." I smiled handing back the entire contents of the package. "Ring her up for these. And oh, for the brush as well, please," I instructed the cashier and stepped back.

"As for you, get up and pay the lady" I commanded releasing my now penitent captive.

"Excuse me? Pay? What?" she huffed blowing her disheveled locks out of her face as she straightened herself up, stretching her legs long and wide, awkwardly attempting to dislodge the thick wad of wedged cotton from between her cheeks.

"Do you have your Rewards Card, Miss?" asked the clerk nonchalantly continuing on with her well rehearsed duties

Christy looked at the clerk in disbelief as she gave up removing the tangled fabric and instead tugged at the hem of her dress to cover her shame. "My Rewards Card?! Really?"  



She teetered for a moment apparently questioning reality. She had been staring over her shoulder while attempting to escape as quickly as possible and now realized she had mistook the glass for open. As soon as there was minimally enough space to make it through the unbelievably slow automatic sliding doors, she squeezed herself through and made a run for it.
"Slow down there, we aren't done yet," I grabbed her arm the instant she was outside.

A half-dozen sets of eyes had followed us out the door; Christy with her shopping bag that included the humbling purchases and I with my now somehow paid for, and still cold, drink in hand.

"Your panties, now."

"What?" She stared at me still heavily dazed from her public humiliation (and the bang of the glass) and reached into the shopping bag, fumbled to find the new purchased set and handed me a pair.

"No, not these. Not just yet. I do however expect you to be wearing these next time I see you. Give me the ones you have on!"
She gasped in disbelief.

"Yes, the panties you have on."
I ordered folding up the blushing pink pair, the same pair I had used to size up her ass earlier, and tossed them loosely on top of the wide-mouthed brown paper bag.

"You want me to take them off here?! Really?" she mumbled.

"Do it before I take them off of you myself!"

She took a deep breath, glancing around the sizzling and yet still bustling, summer city street, scanning right and left while debating her no win options. 
She bit her lip in a pout, crossing and uncrossing her legs anxiously knowing there was no reason to doubt my threat.



 "Where is the fr'c'n bus!" she complained loudly to no one in particular although the entire crowd at the civic corner seemed to hear her. Avoiding eye contact with anyone, she paced in an audible flip-flopped beat, "Why is it so hot; this heat is unbearable; uhh!"

To the unsuspecting crowd at the corner bus stop her nervous pacing, swaying and her jiggling prominent bottom (although worthy of a second glance), was all merely due to the uncomfortable temperature. Yet only she knew that under her short flowy dress, her bottom was throbbing throughout from having been the recent target of a firm punishment. She wanted nothing more than to rub and soothe it, but she couldn't; not here, not here in front of these people. As soon as she got home, if the bus ever showed up, she would immediately rip off...

The delayed bus roared in with a hot, exhaust filled breeze as the crowd rushed forward. Weighted by her heavy purse and shopping bag, she reached down with her one free hand and held tight to the edge of her dress. To her visible dismay, the breeze whirlpooled and continued to threaten to lift the back of her dress. She sacrificed her bags, dropping them to the ground to make use of both hands. 

Feeling confident that her quick reflexes had paid off, she bent over to retrieve her bags and scattered contents only to be met by a chorus of gasps and snickers as the wind created by another passing bus swooped in and sent her hem flying. The breeze caught, lifted and set sail to her summer dress, raising it nearly to her neck as she was bent over and all in clear view of all the awaiting passengers.

She snatched up the scattered contents throwing them into the bags while she simultaneously struggled to keep her dress down.The passengers rushed past her to get onboard the bus, bumping past her in the process; most seemingly more concerned about missing their ride than the free show, despite the fact that she clearly made out a handful of rude remarks from leering eyes.

As she stood up in the midst of the flowing crowd a tall flamboyant woman leaned over and whispered in Christy's ear in an unapologetic yet surprisingly husky tone, "Honey, listen, sometimes you gotta be honest with yourself; go ahead and size up. No one is gonna know. Because those itty bitty panties stretched as they are, left everyone here with a clear astronomy course..."

Christy went red; avoiding eye contact and any further possible humiliation, she pivoted and flip-flopped in a panicked haste down the hot city street. Shuffling away in penitent reflection, she began to wonder if perhaps the universe was in fact conspiring to teach her a well deserved, but tough lesson.


Did you enjoy that?
I sincerely hope so. I made a poll for you, but as always really appreciate your input via comments.