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| "Belt this German dirty dog well, Frederick! If you're hiring servants from the continent, then train them well! I hope, you'll hand me the belt, so I'll show you how to do this right!" |
Friday, December 14, 2018
A Clumsy Maid
Sunday, December 9, 2018
A Hard Lesson
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| "Oh, I'll teach you what happens, when somebody tries to steal a Russian girl's boyfriend, German pig!" |
Thursday, December 6, 2018
German Girl, English Cane
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| "So, Miss Krüger, are you still thinking, that you can show up at your workplace dressed as you want?" |
Monday, December 3, 2018
The Dirndl
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| "Au! Au! When she told me to put on my dirndl instead my usual maid uniform today I thought she wanted her guests to be sure, that I am a German! Au! Au! Not to make me totally feel that I am German and received a spanking from an Englisch Lady! Au! Au!" |
Sunday, December 2, 2018
Wage Negotiations
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| "I hired you to do a job, and you show up like this?!" "AUTSCH!!! Pay me more... AUTSCH!!! ...then minimum wage... AUTSCH!!! ...and you will get results! AUTSCH!!!" "I'm getting results right now!" |
Monday, November 26, 2018
A German Au Pair Girl
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| "Well, Miss Müller, since I'll never allow my daughter showing up looking like this, it'll be fair if I'll make you an example for her, what'll happen if she'll dare to choose your fashion path!" |
Sunday, November 25, 2018
Lunch Break
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| "AU!!! AU!!! But Frau! AU!!! Maybe can we just discuss this?! AU!!! AU!!!" "I think we need no word more, madame!" |
A Nasty Surprise
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| "Au! Au! When they told me that this Englisch college has a very old fashioned traditions, I never thought about this... Au!" |
No Pictures!
Belinda looked up to the entrance of the enormous building. It was definitely old, something out of the early 1800's perhaps and it looked like it hadn't had a proper renovation in over 50 years...
She looked at the foreign letters that were attached to the outer wall. She couldn't read it, but she knew out of the tourists' guide that it said: "Museum of Natural History".
She had just arrived in the small East-European country and the very first thing on her list of places she wanted to visit was the famous National Museum of Natural History, which had an enormous collection of fossils, skeletons and other fascinating things like that. It was something she had been interested in since her early childhood.
However, studying fossils in some dusty old museum was not her only reason for coming to the small country. She was secretly hoping to pick up one of the locals. The men in this country were legendary for their looks. A slight tan, a jaw line you could cut steel with and black, curly hair you could comb with your fingers for hours.
Especially for this occasion, Belinda was wearing a dirndl, a traditional dress worn by many other German women. She liked showing off her heritage and not only that, her cleavage did not leave much to the imagination. The dress was an eye-catcher for sure.
She walked up the steps and entered the museum. She looked around. A small group of tourists had gathered around what seemed to be a tour guide. She was in luck. Apparently a museum tour was just about to start. She joined the group and the tour guide started the tour. She took them past all sorts of exhibitions. There was an exhibition about the local birdlife, an exhibition about the Neanderthalers that used to live in this area, there was even an enormous skeleton of a dinosaur on display. Belinda wondered how such a small country could even fund such an impressive museum like this.
Her eye fell on something else. It appeared to be some sort of warning sign, but she couldn't read the foreign language it was written in. There were two symbols on it as well, one made more sense to her than the other. One was a pictogram of a photo camera, crossed through with a big red line and encircled with a red ring. No pictures, that was obvious. The other one was a pictogram of what seemed to be an open hand, also encircled with a red ring. No touching? That would be logical. She just wished she could read the language so she would be sure.
As the tour progressed, Belinda beheld more and more amazing things, things she didn't see at museums at home. Huge crystals that were apparently dug up from a local quarry, fossils of creatures she never even heard of and so on and so on. She couldn't understand anything of what the tour guide was saying, but the exhibitions spoke for themselves.
Belinda started to feel her cell phone burning in her pocket. She desperately wanted to make pictures of the things she saw, to show at home to her friends and family, but the sign was very clear: No pictures. And she didn't exactly want to get in trouble on her first day here.
She tried to resist the urge to whip her phone out and make pictures of everything, but the urge was too strong. If I keep my camera low, she thought, maybe the guide won't notice it anyway.
Belinda aimed her camera carefully at a chunk of amethyst that was on display and pressed the button.
FLASH!
All the heads of the tourists in the group, and the head of the tourguide turned her way.
Shit. She forgot to turn her flash off.
A few tourists were giggling but the head of the tour guide seemed to turn redder by the second. She came storming towards Belinda, yelling at her in the foreign language she could not understand and pointed at the sign with the photo camera.
Belinda tried to reason with her: "I am sorry, I am so sorry. Look, there doesn't have to be a problem here. I can just remove the picture. Here, see?"
But the tour guide understood as much as Belinda understood her and kept yelling at her. Suddenly she grabbed a walkietalkie from her belt and started to converse with someone.
"You are really in for it now," one of the tourists said. He sounded American.
"W-what do you mean? It isn't that big of a deal, right?" Belinda asked him.
"You mean you don't know how they enforce the law over here? Oh boy..."
Belinda wanted to ask further about what was going to happen, but all of a sudden her arm got grabbed by a strong hand and she got yanked away from the group. A few meters further Belinda and the tour guide stopped.
She started to talk to her again in the strange language, but this time it wasn't yelling. It sounded more like she was scolding her, like an upset mom does with her child.
"I-I am sorry," Belinda tried to say, "It isn't such a big deal, right? Right?"
The tour guide just sighed and turned Belinda around.
Before Belinda had the chance to ask what the hell she was doing, she felt the tour guide's hands going under her dress and she felt them grip onto the waistband of her panties.
"Wha..what are you..." Belinda stuttered.
She felt her panties getting dragged down her thighs and fall down around her ankles. Belinda was baffled by the events.
The tour guide then proceeded to pull her dress aside so that Belinda's bottom was on full display. She felt her cheeks starting to burn bright. She couldn't see them because she had her back turned to them, but she was sure the group of tourists were no longer feasting their eyes on the exhibitions...
Out of nowhere she felt the slap landing on her right butt cheek. "OW," she yelled, but more out of surprise than out of pain.
Then another stroke hit the surface of her left butt cheek. This one actually stung.
Then another one followed, and other one, and another one. The tour guide landed blow after blow on the poor German girl's bottom.
Belinda started to plead and beg, but even if the woman disciplining her could understand her, she probably wouldn't have backed down anyway. Time after time she felt the guide's firm hand landing on her buttocks. The cheeks on here face were not the only cheeks that were burning bright by now. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she started to plead and beg even more. She desperately clung to the railing and clenched her fists hoping to ease the pain, but it was no use. She started fidgeting to get loose but the guide just tightened her grip around Belinda's waist even more.
Never had Belinda felt more vulnerable and embarassed. Her face was a mess, her makeup was all over and the tears flowed freely over her cheeks. And the strokes just wouldn't stop. The tour guide knew what she was doing, because her bottom appeared to be on fire by now.
Behind her back she could hear the crowd of tourists talking.
"Dude, what are you waiting for? Take a picture already!"
"I told her so..."
"See, Lisa, this is what happens to little girls who are bad..."
Belinda never felt more humiliated as in this very moment.
And, just as soon as it had started, it ended. Suddenly the grip around her waist was gone, and her buttocks finally felt the cool air around her. Once again she got grabbed by the arm and turned around to face the tour guide. She scolded her a bit more. Belinda's hand reluctantly left the satisfying feeling of rubbing her bottom. The tour guide walked off and gestured the group to follow her once more.
She looked at the foreign letters that were attached to the outer wall. She couldn't read it, but she knew out of the tourists' guide that it said: "Museum of Natural History".
She had just arrived in the small East-European country and the very first thing on her list of places she wanted to visit was the famous National Museum of Natural History, which had an enormous collection of fossils, skeletons and other fascinating things like that. It was something she had been interested in since her early childhood.
However, studying fossils in some dusty old museum was not her only reason for coming to the small country. She was secretly hoping to pick up one of the locals. The men in this country were legendary for their looks. A slight tan, a jaw line you could cut steel with and black, curly hair you could comb with your fingers for hours.
Especially for this occasion, Belinda was wearing a dirndl, a traditional dress worn by many other German women. She liked showing off her heritage and not only that, her cleavage did not leave much to the imagination. The dress was an eye-catcher for sure.
She walked up the steps and entered the museum. She looked around. A small group of tourists had gathered around what seemed to be a tour guide. She was in luck. Apparently a museum tour was just about to start. She joined the group and the tour guide started the tour. She took them past all sorts of exhibitions. There was an exhibition about the local birdlife, an exhibition about the Neanderthalers that used to live in this area, there was even an enormous skeleton of a dinosaur on display. Belinda wondered how such a small country could even fund such an impressive museum like this.
Her eye fell on something else. It appeared to be some sort of warning sign, but she couldn't read the foreign language it was written in. There were two symbols on it as well, one made more sense to her than the other. One was a pictogram of a photo camera, crossed through with a big red line and encircled with a red ring. No pictures, that was obvious. The other one was a pictogram of what seemed to be an open hand, also encircled with a red ring. No touching? That would be logical. She just wished she could read the language so she would be sure.
As the tour progressed, Belinda beheld more and more amazing things, things she didn't see at museums at home. Huge crystals that were apparently dug up from a local quarry, fossils of creatures she never even heard of and so on and so on. She couldn't understand anything of what the tour guide was saying, but the exhibitions spoke for themselves.
Belinda started to feel her cell phone burning in her pocket. She desperately wanted to make pictures of the things she saw, to show at home to her friends and family, but the sign was very clear: No pictures. And she didn't exactly want to get in trouble on her first day here.
She tried to resist the urge to whip her phone out and make pictures of everything, but the urge was too strong. If I keep my camera low, she thought, maybe the guide won't notice it anyway.
Belinda aimed her camera carefully at a chunk of amethyst that was on display and pressed the button.
FLASH!
All the heads of the tourists in the group, and the head of the tourguide turned her way.
Shit. She forgot to turn her flash off.
A few tourists were giggling but the head of the tour guide seemed to turn redder by the second. She came storming towards Belinda, yelling at her in the foreign language she could not understand and pointed at the sign with the photo camera.
Belinda tried to reason with her: "I am sorry, I am so sorry. Look, there doesn't have to be a problem here. I can just remove the picture. Here, see?"
But the tour guide understood as much as Belinda understood her and kept yelling at her. Suddenly she grabbed a walkietalkie from her belt and started to converse with someone.
"You are really in for it now," one of the tourists said. He sounded American.
"W-what do you mean? It isn't that big of a deal, right?" Belinda asked him.
"You mean you don't know how they enforce the law over here? Oh boy..."
Belinda wanted to ask further about what was going to happen, but all of a sudden her arm got grabbed by a strong hand and she got yanked away from the group. A few meters further Belinda and the tour guide stopped.
She started to talk to her again in the strange language, but this time it wasn't yelling. It sounded more like she was scolding her, like an upset mom does with her child.
"I-I am sorry," Belinda tried to say, "It isn't such a big deal, right? Right?"
The tour guide just sighed and turned Belinda around.
Before Belinda had the chance to ask what the hell she was doing, she felt the tour guide's hands going under her dress and she felt them grip onto the waistband of her panties.
"Wha..what are you..." Belinda stuttered.
She felt her panties getting dragged down her thighs and fall down around her ankles. Belinda was baffled by the events.
The tour guide then proceeded to pull her dress aside so that Belinda's bottom was on full display. She felt her cheeks starting to burn bright. She couldn't see them because she had her back turned to them, but she was sure the group of tourists were no longer feasting their eyes on the exhibitions...
Out of nowhere she felt the slap landing on her right butt cheek. "OW," she yelled, but more out of surprise than out of pain.
Then another stroke hit the surface of her left butt cheek. This one actually stung.
Then another one followed, and other one, and another one. The tour guide landed blow after blow on the poor German girl's bottom.
Belinda started to plead and beg, but even if the woman disciplining her could understand her, she probably wouldn't have backed down anyway. Time after time she felt the guide's firm hand landing on her buttocks. The cheeks on here face were not the only cheeks that were burning bright by now. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she started to plead and beg even more. She desperately clung to the railing and clenched her fists hoping to ease the pain, but it was no use. She started fidgeting to get loose but the guide just tightened her grip around Belinda's waist even more.
Never had Belinda felt more vulnerable and embarassed. Her face was a mess, her makeup was all over and the tears flowed freely over her cheeks. And the strokes just wouldn't stop. The tour guide knew what she was doing, because her bottom appeared to be on fire by now.
Behind her back she could hear the crowd of tourists talking.
"Dude, what are you waiting for? Take a picture already!"
"I told her so..."
"See, Lisa, this is what happens to little girls who are bad..."
Belinda never felt more humiliated as in this very moment.
And, just as soon as it had started, it ended. Suddenly the grip around her waist was gone, and her buttocks finally felt the cool air around her. Once again she got grabbed by the arm and turned around to face the tour guide. She scolded her a bit more. Belinda's hand reluctantly left the satisfying feeling of rubbing her bottom. The tour guide walked off and gestured the group to follow her once more.
Tuesday, November 13, 2018
The Ripe Red Apples
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| "I hate when the professor leaves you in charge, Sue! AUTSCH!!!" "And I'm gonna thank him by giving him two ripe red apples, Belinda!" |
A tasty apples
It was a sunny beautiful morning in France. A blonde girl walked around the countryside. She looked 18 years old and wears one of those German traditional dresses those are called a dirndl. Her name was Belinda Krüger and she was on vacation. She looked around and saw a garden with several apple trees in front.
"I am feeling rather hungry!" Belinda said to herself. She climbed over the fence and walked near an apple tree. She started picking apples and did this for several minutes before a brown headed woman - Joséphine - came out of the house.
"Stop! Stop!" she shrieked, "Those belong to my famille, you can't take them!".
Belinda turned to face the newcomer, "Oh, Ich think Ich can, and Ich am!" she said with strong German accent and then got back to work picking the fruit, the French woman shouted again "Stop stealing from me or else!".
"Or else was?" lazily smirked Belinda.
The furious Frenchwoman marched up to the German girl and before she even knew what was happening, had her by the ear. "Au!!!, Let me go!" Belinda yammered, but Joséphine sat over the stump and bend her over her lap.
"Was do you think you are doing?!" German protested.
"Well, Hun, you can't put these apples back on the tree, so you can choose - I'll punish you myself, or I'll call the police!" Joséphine said.
"Sie can not do this!" screamed Belinda "This has to be illegal or something!"
"It may be" smirked Joséphine "But so is stealing and trespassing, which you are guilty of! So you may choose - police or a spanking."
Belinda gulped. Any problems with authorities were the last thing she wanted "Well, a spanking..." she whispered and her face turned red.
"Are you sure? When I'll start it you couldn't change your mind!" Joséphine smiled.
Belinda nodded. Joséphine looked around and took a whippy stick. "Now take off your shoes!" she commanded. Belinda took off her low shoes and French threw them over the fence.
"Was are you doing?!" the German complained.
"Just make sure, that you won't try to escape from your punition!" the Frenchwoman said raised girl's skirt and lowered her panties.
"Maybe that is not so necessary?" Belinda complained.
The only answer she got - a hard stroke of the stick across her bare bottom.
Belinda cried in pain and squirmed over Joséphine's lap.
SWISH!. . . . WHOP!. . . . SWOOSH!. . . . SMACK!. . . . SWOOSH!. . . . CRRRRRACK!
Belinda asked for mercy again and again, but Joséphine continued the punishment, keeping silence.
Poor German howled in pain, squirmed over the French's lap like a mad, wagged striped bottom desperately and kicked her legs so furiously that she loose her panties.
Through tears the German maiden said, "Bitte Sie, Frau, wy punish-you-me so hard?!"
"Because I hate thieves!" Joséphine said and gave poor Belinda several more strokes. She didn't even thought about to end the punishment but suddenly the stick broke.
Belinda gulped in fear "Will Sie go to find the other stick?" she asked in a trembling voice.
Joséphine looked at her sore swollen striped bottom and shook her head "No, we're done here!" she said and pushed the German from her lap.
Belinda jumped up and started brat war dance, clutching her tender bottom. Joséphine smiled, looking at her discomfort, and said "You have two minutes to disparaître from my garden. Or I will take the martinet and wallop your thieving German ass one more time!"
Belinda screamed in fear and scat as fast as she can, still clutching her sore bottom. She jumped over the fence and ran away as fast as she could. She even forgot about her panties and shoes.
"I am feeling rather hungry!" Belinda said to herself. She climbed over the fence and walked near an apple tree. She started picking apples and did this for several minutes before a brown headed woman - Joséphine - came out of the house.
"Stop! Stop!" she shrieked, "Those belong to my famille, you can't take them!".
Belinda turned to face the newcomer, "Oh, Ich think Ich can, and Ich am!" she said with strong German accent and then got back to work picking the fruit, the French woman shouted again "Stop stealing from me or else!".
"Or else was?" lazily smirked Belinda.
The furious Frenchwoman marched up to the German girl and before she even knew what was happening, had her by the ear. "Au!!!, Let me go!" Belinda yammered, but Joséphine sat over the stump and bend her over her lap.
"Was do you think you are doing?!" German protested.
"Well, Hun, you can't put these apples back on the tree, so you can choose - I'll punish you myself, or I'll call the police!" Joséphine said.
"Sie can not do this!" screamed Belinda "This has to be illegal or something!"
"It may be" smirked Joséphine "But so is stealing and trespassing, which you are guilty of! So you may choose - police or a spanking."
Belinda gulped. Any problems with authorities were the last thing she wanted "Well, a spanking..." she whispered and her face turned red.
"Are you sure? When I'll start it you couldn't change your mind!" Joséphine smiled.
Belinda nodded. Joséphine looked around and took a whippy stick. "Now take off your shoes!" she commanded. Belinda took off her low shoes and French threw them over the fence.
"Was are you doing?!" the German complained.
"Just make sure, that you won't try to escape from your punition!" the Frenchwoman said raised girl's skirt and lowered her panties.
"Maybe that is not so necessary?" Belinda complained.
The only answer she got - a hard stroke of the stick across her bare bottom.
Belinda cried in pain and squirmed over Joséphine's lap.
SWISH!. . . . WHOP!. . . . SWOOSH!. . . . SMACK!. . . . SWOOSH!. . . . CRRRRRACK!
 |
| "AUA!!! AUTSCH!!! Bitte Sie, Frau, wy punish-you-me so hard?! AUA!!!!" "Because I hate thieves!" |
Belinda asked for mercy again and again, but Joséphine continued the punishment, keeping silence.
Poor German howled in pain, squirmed over the French's lap like a mad, wagged striped bottom desperately and kicked her legs so furiously that she loose her panties.
Through tears the German maiden said, "Bitte Sie, Frau, wy punish-you-me so hard?!"
"Because I hate thieves!" Joséphine said and gave poor Belinda several more strokes. She didn't even thought about to end the punishment but suddenly the stick broke.
Belinda gulped in fear "Will Sie go to find the other stick?" she asked in a trembling voice.
Joséphine looked at her sore swollen striped bottom and shook her head "No, we're done here!" she said and pushed the German from her lap.
Belinda jumped up and started brat war dance, clutching her tender bottom. Joséphine smiled, looking at her discomfort, and said "You have two minutes to disparaître from my garden. Or I will take the martinet and wallop your thieving German ass one more time!"
Belinda screamed in fear and scat as fast as she can, still clutching her sore bottom. She jumped over the fence and ran away as fast as she could. She even forgot about her panties and shoes.
Saturday, November 10, 2018
Hard Luck Woman
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| "AU!!! AU!!! Frau, please! That stings!" "That should! And not a 'Frau', but 'Mademoiselle', Madame!" "AU!!! Mademoiselle, please, stop! AU!!!" "Do you want me to forgive your husband, Madame?" "AU!!! Ja! AU!!!" |
Saturday, November 3, 2018
Baring the bottom
Sometimes to spank a naughty she-werewolf properly you need to shave her furry buttocks first
Thursday, November 1, 2018
Started the Day With a "B" on Her Back - Finished the Day With an "X" on Her Bottom!
Sometimes to be a villainess means only the pain in the ass!
Tuesday, October 30, 2018
The Queen of the Night
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| “So, stupid animal! Tell me: who’s the Queen of the Night!” “AUA!!!! AUA!!!! AU!!! It is you! AUA!!!!” |
Friday, October 19, 2018
Rivals
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| "AUTSCH!!! Mein Popo! Chanel... AUA!!! ...please stop! AUTSCH!!! He is yours! AUTSCH!!!" "Well, I'm not sure, you got all you deserve, Krüger! What do you think, James?" "She surely deserves a dozen or even two more, my dear Hélène!" "AUTSCH!!! AUA!!! AU!!! AU!!!" |
Tuesday, October 9, 2018
Spanking the Babysitter
Monday, September 17, 2018
Belinda’s Speeding
Belinda took a quick look in her mirror, pouting her lips and rearranging her hair. It was the third time this month that her car was pulled over by the police for speeding. So far, not a single ticket, she knew how to take them. She pulled her top down a little and pushed her breasts up. It was crass but it worked. Lowering the music on her radio, she put on her nicest smile, opened her window all the way and purred :
“Oh, I’m so sorry officer… I was distracted… I’m sure that you can—” she abruptly stopped as her eyes went up and saw the lady in a police uniform, her arm crossed over her chest, an eyebrow lifted.
“I… Hum…” she started again,
“So you’re that German girl I’ve been hearing about…” the policewoman interrupted, “Seems like a warning isn’t enough for you, huh?”
“No, I mean… It’s is… Ma’am…” she stuttered, blushing. This wasn’t going according to plan at all.
“I need your driving licence and the car’s registration,” the lady said matter-of-factly.
Belinda nodded and ruffled through her bag to find her purse.
“I… It’s in here somewhere…”
“You don’t have your papers with you?”
“No I do… It’s just… Hum…”
“You realise you’re in another country, fraülein, right?” she said dismissively and crossed her arms over her chest again.
“I…” Belinda blushed even more, looking in her bag again, desperately emptying it over the passenger’s seat.
The policewoman rolled her eyes.
“Come out of the vehicle, mademoiselle.”
“What? Why?”
“Come out of your car,” she said again with a stern look. There was no arguing with her and Belinda knew she was in enough trouble already; apparently that woman knew she had been caught speeding before, she didn’t have any papers with her, she should play nice. The young blonde girl opened the door and gingerly stepped out. Cars were flashing by on the motorway by the dozens.
“Do you know what country you’re in?” the officer said with a smile.
“Frankreich? I mean, France?”
“Yes. And we don’t have autobahns here, you understand? Speed is limited. Everywhere. But you know that, don’t you?”
“I…”
“You know that because my colleagues have told you so before.”
“How… How do you know it was me?” she said, a little defiant.
“Blond, German girl in her late twenties driving a white BMW at reckless speeds and trying to entice young policemen? There are surprisingly few of those.”
“Still doesn’t prove—”
“I’ve gotten them to give me your plate number, mademoiselle,” she cut her.
Belinda blushed and looked down, her hands nervously twisting.
“Now, I think there’s only one thing to do… I’ll have to take you to the station. We’ll arrange for your car to be towed…” the policewoman continued.
“No, please… I’m sure my papers are in there… I… I’m sorry… Bitte… Please…”
“I don’t want to know how you got out of trouble before, I’ve only heard the other guys bragging about ‘that German hottie in her white car’, but it’s not going to work on me, I can tell you that.”
“Please, Madame, I… I was going to be late to an appointment… It’s really important…”
“Well look at you now! You’re not going to make the appointment at all!”
“I beg you…” she teared up, her lip quivering, “I will lose my job…”
The policewoman looked at the young German girl in silence while tears rolled down her face. With her hair cut to shoulder length, her big, flashy sunglasses up in her hair, the fancy clothes and car, she was everything the French woman despised. She was young and well off and thought herself above the rules and laws. “I’ll show her…” she thought.
“Fine,” she said, “Step over to the front of the vehicle and put your hands on the hood.”
Belinda sniffled and did as she was told. The hood was warm to the touch. She looked back at the officer over her shoulder.
“Are… Are you going to search me? I don’t do drugs, I…”
“No, mademoiselle, I’m going to spank you.”
“You’re going to wh—”
The first slap interrupted her, her head jolting up in surprise. “Oooow!” she yelped. The slaps came in quick successions, heating up her bottom through her tight jeans. She tried to cover her behind and only got harder slaps for her trouble.
“Keep your hands down or it’ll get a lot worse for you,” the woman warned as more heavy smacks rained down on her poor teutonic buttocks. Cars were still zipping by, some of them honking as they passed them.
Belinda tried to get up again. “That’s enough!” she said, her voice trembling with humiliation and anger.
“You had been warned!” the policewoman said, putting her hand on her back and pushing her back down. Then, with her left, she grabbed Belinda’s jeans and yanked them down to her thighs.
“Nooo!!” Belinda cried, “You can’t do that!”
“I don’t think you have a say in the matter, mademoiselle,” the officer answered as she pulled the pair of white panties down as well. “Now don’t move!”
Belinda was wincing and clenching her round cheeks as the spanking began anew with renewed fury over her bare, exposed bottom. It was now in full view to all the people driving along the road, and she heard people yell encouragements to the police officer through their car windows. She struggled to stay still, rising on her toes with each hard slap. She had never been so humiliated in her life! That… monster was pouring spank after hard spank on her round cheeks. The burning was intense, the shame unbearable, and still she went on.
The spanking went on for what seemed like an eternity to the poor Belinda, her roasted bottom on display and sending wave of heat and pain up her core. She clenched her teeth and tried not to give the policewoman the satisfactions of the moans of pain, but failed miserably.
“Oooooooow! Oow! Aaaaa…”
The woman, on the other hand, was enjoying herself fully, dishing out pain and justice with every hard blow. That dumb German bimbo thought she could get the better of the French police? Well who was having the last laugh now? She grinned as she spanked the girl’s two red orbs, marking them with deep red handprints.
When the officer finally relented, the poor girl almost fell down on the hood of her car, sobbing, rubbing her poor, thoroughly punished bottom. She wasn’t thinking of the people passing by anymore, she wasn’t even thinking about the policewoman or her appointment, all she could think of was how much her bottom hurt.
The policewoman rubbed her hands together, sore as they were, and cleared her throat.
“Consider this a warning, then,” she said with a cruel smile. “I’ll give you a form so that you can make it to your appointment even without your licence…”
The girl sobbed and nodded a little “Danke,” still rubbing her bottom.
A few minutes later, she was back in her car, trying to fix her makeup as most of it had run down her cheeks. She had cringed and yelped as she had pulled her jeans up over her burning, crimson behind, and again as she had sat on the leather seats, her bottom sore and swollen.
Wednesday, September 5, 2018
Another One Reminder
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| "Au! Au! But Frau Johnson! Please! My bottom is still very very sore after the previous spanking you gave me!" "Well, Greta. First of all - not Frau, but Miss! Secondly - again at five o'clock you served me a coffee instead of the tea! And that all means, you need one more reminder!" |
Tuesday, September 4, 2018
A Cat Burglar
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| "Well, well, well... So, young Miss thief, I can just call the police, or you may strip down to pay the price for your misdeeds." |
 |
| "Well, what ever you say, Herr Professor!" *thoughts* "This old impotent fool will just touch me in... some places... and then let me go! Maybe I will even take something as a 'compensation'!" |
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| "AUTSCH!!!! AUA!!! AU!!!! Poooolice!!! AUA!!! AU!!! AU!!! Please, call the police! AUA!!!!" |
Foreign Exchange Welcoming
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| "But Herr is this really that necessary?" "Yes, it is, Miss Krüger! And here we're saying 'Sir', but I'm sure, you'll also remember this very quickly." "Ja, Sir. And this is a lind of tradition, is it not? You will not spank me really hard, Recht?" "Yes, it's a very old tradition! And about your question... Well, let's just say - I gave a lot of spankings before, and the most of them were much more harder then one you're suppose to receive right now! And now let's do this!" |
Local manners
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| "So, you're trespassing my land, aren't you?! Do you even know what the 'privat property' means?!" "Herr, please... I am just a Touristin... I am just wanted what the real American farm is to see!" "Oh, really? Well, then, let me show you my woodshed!" |
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| "AUA!!! AUTSCH!!! AUA!!! I am sorry, Herr! I am sorry!" "Well, I hope you'll remember the Country of the Stars and Stripes for a very long time, kraut-lass! And now you'd better run for your life from my land! You'd better get over the fence before I'll load my shotgun a rocksalt!" |
Saturday, September 1, 2018
The Exchange Student
Wednesday, August 29, 2018
Monday, July 23, 2018
Just Like in a Fairy Tale
The party was in full swing. There were people dancing in the ballroom, mingling between themselves throughout the halls, and committing debauchery in the upstairs bedrooms. This year university Halloween party had an animal theme, so the all guests were dressed in the costumes more or less looking as different animals. Of course, the most popular were exotic predators, but some of the students had chosen types more usual to Northern Hemisphere.
A not very tall curvy blonde in a very revealing wolf-costume walked around the hall. It was Belinda - a German exchange student. She looked around and took a glass of grog from the table. She looked around again and grinned, seeing Melissa - a small slim brown-haired girl in a bunny costume, which looked more like a playboy-girl costume. The German came near and whispered: "Are you a snack?" she giggled at her own joke.
"Very funny, Belinda!" Melissa replied "But would you like to tease someone else? I don't like your sense of humour!"
"Or, really?" Belinda grinned, "Maybe have you no sense of humour?"
"I'm not sure, that you have one!" Hélène - a beautiful French girl in a vixen-costume said, suddenly appearing from behind. The German turned to her.
"What did you say?" she asked a bit angrily.
"I said, that your own sense of humour is really bad," the French girl replied "So it'll be better if you won't repeat such jokes!"
Belinda grinned: “Oh yeah, and what will happen to me if I do?”
Hélène grinned: "Your plump butt will be as red, as this grog!"
For a few moments, Belinda looked rather confused and even frightened, then her face turned a bit red from the anger. "Watch your tongue, Foxy!" she stepped forward, getting closer to her opponent.
"What's the matter, Wolfy?" Hélène giggled.
"How dare you call me fat?" the German whispered angrily.
"Maybe because that's true?" the French looked at her innocently and stepped back.
Belinda groaned and spilled her grog right in her opponent's face, but right when she tried it, somebody in a bear costume appeared right between them. A moment later he stopped, wiping his face, and then turned to Belinda, who recognized Vladislav - a tall, really looking like a bear, muscular exchange student from Russia, who was famous for his very short temper.
“What the hell is going on?!” he shouted "Do you think it's funny?!"
"Emm..." Belinda mumbled.
"Oh, I'll show you an emm!" he said and pulled girl by her ear to the chair nearby. He sat down and pulled the German over his knee. Belinda squirmed and struggled, trying to break out. "What do you think you are doing?!" she shouted.
"Well, just give you your reward!" he said and lifted her grey mini-skirt and pulled her panties to her knees. Her bottom was on display to everyone at the party who was watching.
Belinda gasped in fear and shame and tried to break out but Vladislav held her firmly. He raised his arm. Hélène stood behind him, grinning.
Suddenly there was a loud pop followed by a cry as the Russian palm came down hard on the German bottom. Everyone cheered and laughed at the punishment. Vladislav smiled and told the crowd that it would appear Belinda had never gotten a proper punishment before. The crowd laughed even harder as he brought his palm down repeatedly on Belinda's bottom.
Belinda moaned and clenched her teeth, trying not to scream again, but after the few more spanks she started squirming over the Vladislav's knee and wagging her bottom, trying to save it from his stinging palm. She moaned and screamed in pain, cursed and sweared, but quickly started begging and bawling. She felt like her bottom was on fire. She howled in pain like a real she-wolf, when the Russian bear finally thought that she had enough and threw her from his knee.
The poor girl landed right on her tender bottom, and that made her jump up screaming in pain and started the brat war dance for a few minutes. Finally relieving from the pain a bit she looked around. Everyone were looking at her, laughing. She cried in shame and ran away, clutching her sore bottom.
A not very tall curvy blonde in a very revealing wolf-costume walked around the hall. It was Belinda - a German exchange student. She looked around and took a glass of grog from the table. She looked around again and grinned, seeing Melissa - a small slim brown-haired girl in a bunny costume, which looked more like a playboy-girl costume. The German came near and whispered: "Are you a snack?" she giggled at her own joke.
"Very funny, Belinda!" Melissa replied "But would you like to tease someone else? I don't like your sense of humour!"
"Or, really?" Belinda grinned, "Maybe have you no sense of humour?"
"I'm not sure, that you have one!" Hélène - a beautiful French girl in a vixen-costume said, suddenly appearing from behind. The German turned to her.
"What did you say?" she asked a bit angrily.
"I said, that your own sense of humour is really bad," the French girl replied "So it'll be better if you won't repeat such jokes!"
Belinda grinned: “Oh yeah, and what will happen to me if I do?”
Hélène grinned: "Your plump butt will be as red, as this grog!"
For a few moments, Belinda looked rather confused and even frightened, then her face turned a bit red from the anger. "Watch your tongue, Foxy!" she stepped forward, getting closer to her opponent.
"What's the matter, Wolfy?" Hélène giggled.
"How dare you call me fat?" the German whispered angrily.
"Maybe because that's true?" the French looked at her innocently and stepped back.
Belinda groaned and spilled her grog right in her opponent's face, but right when she tried it, somebody in a bear costume appeared right between them. A moment later he stopped, wiping his face, and then turned to Belinda, who recognized Vladislav - a tall, really looking like a bear, muscular exchange student from Russia, who was famous for his very short temper.
“What the hell is going on?!” he shouted "Do you think it's funny?!"
"Emm..." Belinda mumbled.
"Oh, I'll show you an emm!" he said and pulled girl by her ear to the chair nearby. He sat down and pulled the German over his knee. Belinda squirmed and struggled, trying to break out. "What do you think you are doing?!" she shouted.
"Well, just give you your reward!" he said and lifted her grey mini-skirt and pulled her panties to her knees. Her bottom was on display to everyone at the party who was watching.
Belinda gasped in fear and shame and tried to break out but Vladislav held her firmly. He raised his arm. Hélène stood behind him, grinning.
Suddenly there was a loud pop followed by a cry as the Russian palm came down hard on the German bottom. Everyone cheered and laughed at the punishment. Vladislav smiled and told the crowd that it would appear Belinda had never gotten a proper punishment before. The crowd laughed even harder as he brought his palm down repeatedly on Belinda's bottom.
Belinda moaned and clenched her teeth, trying not to scream again, but after the few more spanks she started squirming over the Vladislav's knee and wagging her bottom, trying to save it from his stinging palm. She moaned and screamed in pain, cursed and sweared, but quickly started begging and bawling. She felt like her bottom was on fire. She howled in pain like a real she-wolf, when the Russian bear finally thought that she had enough and threw her from his knee.
The poor girl landed right on her tender bottom, and that made her jump up screaming in pain and started the brat war dance for a few minutes. Finally relieving from the pain a bit she looked around. Everyone were looking at her, laughing. She cried in shame and ran away, clutching her sore bottom.
Sunday, July 15, 2018
The Robbery of the Century
Blitzkrieg, her supername was derived from potentially dangerous, purple gloves that shot streams of flame, or "lightning" as she liked to imagine from the fingertips, and because she believed her alias meant looming catastrophe on people victimized by her criminal activity, was a lovely, 24-year-old German maiden, with very fair skin, blue eyes a blond hair. Her appearance out, or even in, costume was not particularly "ominous," as she hoped her name would inspire. Rather than a criminal, "Blitzkrieg" looked like a pretty, strong, healthy beerwench, and really she was not taken very seriously by upholders of law and order, nor even members of the criminal community. She had the inexperience - and lack of education - of a farmgirl when it came to criminal activity, notwithstanding that she was an irremedial, very bad girl who, inspite of her poor - very poor - success rate in underworld activity, never gave up trying on a successful heist.
Blitzkrieg's costume did not at all enhance her reputation among the "good guys" nor yet among the criminal underworl, led by such deadly criminals as Joker, Batman's persitent nemesis, and Lex Luthor, who dared to challenge the invincible Superman. Typically, besides her dangerous, purple gloves, the girl wore long purple socks, and purple, high-heeled shoes. So far so good. But in spite of her wholesome, beerwench facade, Blitzkrieg wanted to appear as sexy as she could as she could during her criminal activities, so she wore a short-short skirt, actually a one-piece number that only barely covered her breasts; but since she wanted to appear as alluring as possible, if only to herself, the defect in her clothing, did not particularly embarrass her. But this phenomenon embarrassed bot the criminal community and the law-enforcement enforcers, including the superheroes and superheroines. But there was one more, very indecent part of her dress that not only embarrassed everyone involved with her was that her short-short skirt did not usually reveal only her panties. On a good many occasions she wore a "thong" instead of panties, leaving her bottom completely uncovered, ther for all to see; this article of clothing contributed to making her a laughingstock among the bad guys and the good guys. But Blitzkrieg believed her over-all appearance made her sexy, and she ignored criticism from her colleagues, even laughter. The important thing to Blitzkrieg was that her dress made her appear sexy, if only to herself. But she was sure other people agreed with her, if not her fellow criminals or the heroes, then at least anyone who saw her committing a crime would think she was a sexy, naughty girl!
But more embarrassing than this, two things that made her the least, seriously taken criminal in either the underworld or in the worl of heroes. Blitzkrieg had not once carried out successfully any heist or other criminal activity; she would not listen to advice from more experienced, and successful, criminals than herself, believing, everytime, that her plans were "invincible." She refused a plan to "apprentice" her to an experienced, fortunate law-breaker, thinking her mentor could teach her nothing she didn't already know and unswervingly put into practice. Without fail she either blamed her failures on "sorcery," somehow practiced by the heroes or someone closely allied to them, poor choice of target caused by the "stupidity" of the very few adherents she had in the criminal world who often acted as her advisers - though in fact these people all had more experience than her and almost always advised her against a target she had locked onto, very jack-assedly judging by the results,and she likewise blamed the failures of her attempted heists on just plain bad luck. Never did she blame herself. In fact Blitzkrieg had a very exaggerated opinion of her own intelligence; in fact the girl was herself on the rather stupid side; if not she was silly in excess, and completely incompetent. The "magic" gloves with the "lightning fingertips" were practically useless under her control. She had never been trained - by her own choice - in their most effective use by either the all-female terrorist group she bought them from, and she ddeclined help from both male and female supervillains and supervillainesses who alone possessed the potental power these gloves could provide Blitzkrieg. "I can handle them myself very well!" Blitzkrieg would say to them.
Well, Blitzkrieg found an opportune moment, and opportune place, to carry out a fat heist, making her rich and taken seriously by her criminal companions. Far away from her headquarters of Gotham-city, Blitzkrieg found a rather successful jewelry store on her computer. It was closed on Sunday, and most remarkably, she found that its alarm system was old-fashioned and could easily put out by her "magic gloves," and there was no indoor laser system to protect the store or its jewels. On top of that the store owners felt they had no use for a security guard, inasmuch no one had ever attempted to break into the store. She found all this out on the so-called criminal's computer, immune from search by law-enforcement agents by a microchip that scrambled the computer from outside surveillance and reported all information the underworld would find useful for criminal activities. Blitzkrieg had found what she considered a fail-safe hit. She told her usual accomplices that she was driving alone in her unmarked - licensed car. In three days she arrived, and checked into a swanky motel near her target
Blitzkrieg, had planned her "attack" on the jewelry store practically as she learned about it's success but vulnerability in Gotam-city, and solidified it on her trip. So she spent all day and half the night in her comfortable motel-room bed, and finally, at One O'clock in the morning, decided it was time to put her "flawless" plan of the jewelry store robbery into efect.
She decided to walk to her destination, she was so confident in her success, and the store was only a block away. Her attire was, as usual, as "sexy" as she could make it. Her skirt was very, very short, and instead of panties she only wore a thong, which revealed her fair, white bottom to anyone who was there to see. She wore hard-heeled shoes, long, purple socks, and, of course, her "magic gloves." Her garment cvered her belly, but was rather unsteady at the breasts, sometimes even slipping and baring at least one of them, when she walked fast, as tonight - which Blitzkrieg liked, thinking the "look" made her more sexy, more luxurious, more desirable.
It only took her ten minutes to arrive at the store; she believed it was first necessary to disarm the alarm, but she could not find it as she looked through the window. So she decided to use her "lightning fingertip" to disable the entire electrical system of the store. She looked up to find the pole that supported the electric line-conduit that powered the store; very soon she discovered a line from a pole connected to a power box outside the store, aimed both extended hands at the line, and successfully severed it. It did not occur to her that this plan could have caused a dangerous and damaging fire as well as live lines that could cause serious problems later, but fortunately neither of these happened; she had killed the line, which hung lifeless from the pole and the store's power box. She went back to the front of the store and saw the nightlights of the store extinguished, though she could still find her way easily around the store from the streetligts. It had not occurred to this "seasoned criminal" to bring a flashlight.
As a safety precaution of the store's power system, the front doors were automatically unlocked; Blitzkrieg noticed that one of the doors, defectively, stood slightly ajar. So this very naughty, indeed wicked, girl simply opened the door and entered. Blitzkrieg had the foresight to bring with her a large leather handbag in which she intended to carry her loot. She took only glance at the beautiful jewelry, all encased in locked, nearly unbreakable glass, so she decided to go into the back of the store where the main office was. Blitzkrieg could still see clearly enough, even when she entered the office, to find a safe - vault actually, which as it happened contained many thousands of dollars that the owner of the store left in the vault, for purposes of change for the customers or other, various necessaries for the store,, and was only emptied once a week, on Friday. To Blitzkrieg's seeming good fortune, the store owner and all his employees were much too busy to make it to the bank that Friday - it was now the wee hours of Monday morning - so he thought the money would be safe in his vault until Monday. As a result the vault contained more than one-hundred-thousand dollars. Blitzkrieg approached the vault, shaking but rather awkward than spry, with excitement. She tried the vault, to see if the downed electric system had unlocked the vault, but to her disappointment - it would have come as no surprise to any other villain - the safe was still locked. So she backed a good distance away and aimed her extended, wobbling hands toward the lock of the vault and opened fire. Within seconds the lock was broken and the vault door creaked open a little. Blitkrieg smiled at her success.
The villainess smiled broadly when she opened the safe widely and saw the stacks and stacks of monet. Blitzkrieg wasted no time. She bent over and opened her handbag wide, and began - but only that - to take a stack of money out of the vault. But unknown to the young criminal, a seemingly-ghostly figure appeared behind her on the left side, and then solidified into the superheroine Misfit - whom Blitzkrieg had never heard of. The superheroine was only a teenage girl, but she was far stronger than all her opponents. She could appear in one place, disappear, and then instantly appear at another. She had super speed and super stealth. When she entered the main office of the jewelry store, seeing Blitzkrieg bending over to collect "her" money, the wicked girl had no idea that she was there.
Blitzkrieg's bare bottom, emphasized by he short-short skirt and bent-over position, could not help but prove an obvious target to begin Misfit's upcoming struggle. The teenage girl-hero raised her right arm high, and slapped hard Blitzkrieg's inadvisedly readily-available bottom. She held a stack of bills in her hand and clutched onto them. Misfit had slapped the right cheek of Blitzkrieg's rear, and the girl, still bent over with her head in the safe, opened her eyes wide in shock and panic, involutarily raising her head. She withdrew and, expecting to find her adversary on her right side, she turned in that direction and let fly a flash of lightning from her glove. No one was there! So the girl turned to her left and instantly fired at what looked like a phantom, but Misfit was quickly disappearing, uninjured by Blitzkrieg's attempted strike. Misfit was gone, and Blitzkrieg was totally confused; she looked to the right and the left, but there was no one present! But in a second young Misfit reappeared, again on Blitzkrieg's left side, while the bad girl, seemingly, scratched her head in confusion, looking to her left. Misfit, rather mischievously, tapped Blitzkrieg softly on her left side.
Blitzkrieg looked quickly and as mencingly as she could, her ligtning fingers extended, ready to fire on anything she saw; but she didn't see anyone! The girl Misfit had simply disappeared and reappeared on Blitzkrieg's right side. Once again the villainess fell into confusion. "Oh!" She said aloud, "Am I fighting a GHOST? Is it an angel of vengeance come to punish me for my crimes?" Blitzkrieg was serious when she said this in her North German dialect. Well, whoever or whatever it was that was frustrating Blitzkrieg's enterprise, her best move was to leave the jewelry store as quickly as she could. She didn't give a thought to the thousans and thousands of dollars that had been in her grasp, or the money she had in her hand and was constrained to drop when Misfit had slapped her on her "sexy" bare bottom and threw her into confusion by disappearing before Blitzkrieg could fire her magic finger tips then appearing on her other side.
Blitzkrieg assumed that the ghost or phantom - or magic superhero or superheroine - only spoke English so she said in the language, shortly before her projected departure, "I Adjure you, gheist or Mann or Weib! I COMMAND you to identify yourself! Ich vill first tell du wer ich bin - ich bin heist Blitzkrieg, einne great wizard wer takes vat sie wants! Nun, du identify yourself! I ADJURE du!"
Misfit appeared in back of Blitzkrieg, and patted her bare bottom. "Well, gangster - you're HARDLY a wizard! If you must know my name is Misfit! Iam an associate of Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman! THEY don't have time to waste with the likes of you! And Wonder Woman even told me to ignore you're break-in, that you were just too DENSE to carry out a successful heist! You've NEVER succeeded, "Blitzkrieg" and you never will! You may or may not have succeeded in you attempted heist tonight, but I am here to see to it that you definitely fail and that you do not get away from this place without being sternly punished!"
Blitzkrieg assumed the girl-hero was of supra-human strength, but she did not know if she was invulnerable at least to pain, so the young criminal aimed and fired her ligtning tips at Misfit, but even before the flames got close to her this strange, phantom-like girl disappeared -and then reappeared mysteriously in another part of the room, but still close enough to apprehend Blitzkrieg whenever she wanted.
Blitzkrieg, seeing her cause was hopelessly lost, decided to run as fast as she could to a window, open it, and get away , as fast as she could from the scene of her disaster, yet another failure. Meanwhile the girl Misfit allowed the older girl time to open the window and begin to climb out of it. But Misfit, who on top of her other powers, was gifted with super speed, rushed like a tornado to the would-be escapee and shut the window on her, her magic fingers outside and useeless to her, the window shut tight by the superstrength of Misfit. Blitzkrieg's skirt did absolutely bothing to protect the girl-criminal's bare bottom, which stuck out humiliatingly , seemingly at the service of Misfit.
Fortunately for the red-haired, teenage heroine, within reach of her was a golden chain, unbreakable, Misfit could see, because of the steel-reinforcemets between each of the gold ringlets. Misfit decided this would be an excellent instrument of punishment for naughty Blitzkrieg's all-so-available bare bottom, and she began laying lash after lash on villainess's criminal butt.
"I know you've never succeeded in any crime you've ever committed, Blitzkrieg," said Misfit, loudly over Blitzkrieg's cries of pain from each LASH of the golden chain.
"AUTSCH!" yelled Blitzkrieg, since almost every word Misfit said was punctuated by a hard, all-encompassing THRASH, "Bitte Sie, Fräulein!" cried Blitzkrieg, now very respectfully--not withstanding that Misfit was 6 years younger than her, "Bitte Sie! Ich habbe had enough! Sie must stop! Ich habbe had es! Ich habbe learned my lesson! NIE! NIE again vill ich zo much as attempt, or think, about a robery again! AUTSCH! AUTSCH! Bitte Sie, ma'am! Mein ass ist on fire!"
However, Blitzkrieg's yells and pleadings fell on deaf ears. "Your in for a long, long licking, Blitzkrieg! The longest - and hardest! You've gotten so far! Still, 'Blitzkrieg,' you should count yourself as lucky! Lucky that you didn't fall into the hands of Superman or Wonder Woman! Your 'magic fingers' would have been nothing to them! They would carried you humiliatingly to the sky, and whipped your ass with their bare hands! Ignominiously they would have carried you by the waist and spanked you -oh! ever-so-hard! And then, who knows? They may have carried you to the prison of the Justice League, where you would have been for a long time to make sure you lean your lesson!"
Blitzkrieg was in great pain - and now desperate. "Please, ma'am! DO'NT carry me to jail!" But Misfit was silent at this. She decided the a part of Blitzkrieg's punishment should be to remain in fear that she would be further punished with jail. "I think you should stick to the problem you have now, Blitzkrieg! It seems to me that what you're getting now is worse than anything you can get in jail!
"Ja! Ja!" Responded Blitzkrieg, "You speak truly! But, Bitte, ma'am! Ich don't deserfe such treatment! Mein ass ist soooooo tender! Es ist one von mien best features! Oh, bitte Sie, Freulein! Ich ruff Sie! Don't damage es!"
Misfit's response was to LASH the naughty bare bottom of Blitzkrieg all the harder.
WHISH!. . . . SWHISH!. . . . SWHOOSH!. . . . WHOOSH!. . . . LASH!. . . . WHHHIIIPPP!. . . . CRRRRRRACK!. . . . THRRRRRRRASH!. . . . SWHISH!. . . . THWHAAAAAAACK!. . . .
"AUTSCH!" the desperate girl yelled; "OOOOOOOHHHHH!. . . . HOWWWWWWELLLLL!" Blitzkrieg felt that Misfit had been right; the whipping she was getting was much, much harder than any she had yet received, from anyone, from either the Justice League or the loose criminal cartel to which she was coonnected.
Her thrashing had been going on for twenty minutes now, and each LASH the young criminal got from the younger crimefighter hurt worse than the last one. Blitzkrieg's bottom was nearly crimson, and seemed to emit fire and smoke. Blitzkrieg was desperate all through her punishment, but now ever more so. The positioning of her legs made it possible for her to kick her feet up and down, violently, perhaps hoping to strike Misfit and cause her to lose her balance, enabling Blitzkrieg, as she thought, to make good her escape. This never happened, but Blitzkrieg continued kicking, think this action might somehoe ease her pain, and it would certainly serve as a sign to Misfit that she was unhappy with her situation. All of Blitzkrieg's kicks were accompanied by cries of pain, humiliation, and frustration. She really did consider herself a wizard with her "lightning fingertips"; but she was now a toothless tiger with her hands clinching into fists outside beating the sill. With her kicking, screaming and flailing Blitzkrieg was throwing a temper tantrum, and Misfit could see this. "You've lost, Blitzkrieg! You should take your whipping as a brave soldier, not like a five-year-old girl!" Blitzkrieg began cursing her young disciplinarian.
Blitzkrieg got one final idea to escape from her punishment. She stationed her feet firmly on the ground. Misfit was still thrashing her painfully; after half an hour Misfit had not lost any of her strength. But Blitzkrieg tried, with great difficult, but finally successfully, to practically bend her hands and writs bakwards so she could use her "lightning fingers" to destroy the window that held her captive. Then, she felt certain, she could make good her escape from Misfit and her EVER-so-painful strength combined with her gold chain.
Blitzkrieg had just about gotten her fingertips where she wanted them, Misfit, busy whipping the young criminal, stil not noticing her truant's maneuver, or seeming not to notice it - Blitzkrieg took one matter, rather suddenly and shockingly, that if she used her "magic fingers" to destroy the window, would she not be destroying herself as well? Her fingertips could only go in one direction - the open window that held her! At the very least, Blitzkrieg knew - at the last possible minute - her back could be seriously burned, and in spite of the fire that could flow out of her fingertips Blitzkrieg was more afraid of fire, or burning, more than anything else. Blitzkrieg's plan, silly, foolish, incomplete as it was, fell to the ground in smoking ash. But the young villainess, not TOTALLY preoccupied, though almost, by the sound thrashing she was getting from Misfit, decided on one more plan of escape. Her feet were stil as firmly as she could get them planted on the foor: so Blitzkrieg decided to use her feet and legs to cast herself out of the window with all of her strength, and the young criminal was fairly strong (though never too strong to escape from a whipping). So almost as soon as she thought out her plan, this one safe, Blitzkrieg attempted to put it into operation.
First of all the youthful bad girl gripped the window as tightly as she could, ready to use ase all the strength she had in her arms to help pull herself along; then he planted her feet in a running - or rather jumping - position. However, this had the unfortunate, humiliating requirement of Blitzkrieg sticking out her butt further thanit already was. Nevertheless she tried to persevere: but leaping through the window was made impossible by the very movement of her butt: she had also to use her back and part of her legs to "bust" through the window, but the window clapped all the more on Blitzkrieg's shoulder blades and lower neck, and Misfit finally heard and saw what the object of her ire was trying to do; strong as she was she held the partially-open window more closely on Blitzkrieg, and the young woman's ass was now sticking out more ignominiously than before. In these two unsuccessful attempts at escape Blitzkrieg had shown her utter foolishness and failure to take into account all defects in a projected plan, something that both seasoned villains, as Blitzkrieg should have been by now, and even heroes did as a matter of course. Faced with these failures, and the humiliating, even more painful, position of her buttocks after the "thrashing" of her second plan, Blitzkrieg began cursing her disciplinarian, in both German and English, and began struggling, no part of an organized plan. She tried to position her feet under the wall, beneath the window to force her body out of her imprisonment in the shut widow; but the pain the criminal felt in the back of her legs in her desperate attempt which could make them temporarily useles in running, and the realization of the fact that she would have to very painfully wrench her shoulders , neck - and head to escape Misfit's iron grip on the top window sill -well, having thought of these matters almost too late - the result being the serious injury of Blitzkrieg, the girl tried to move and kick her way to her feet's former position without success, and the result was that Blitzkrieg's butt stuck out all the more to receive Misfit's hard lashes.
"I know you've been trying to escape, Blitzkrieg," Misfit said, "But as your rear end can feel, your FOOLISH, incopetent, thoughtless failures have all worked against you! No wonder the heroes don't take much notice when you're attempting a heist! They all come and easily overcome and punish you themselves, or they don't even respond at all, relying - always correctly - on your own silly plans to fail, resulting in you running away from the scene of your attempted crime! But tonight was a little different. Tonight, even though the other heroes of the Justice League wanted to ignore your projected crime - tonight I thought you had a real chance of success - don't ask me how I knew it. And there you were, at the stores vault, just about to "transfer funds" from the vault to your handbag. And I daresay you would have succeeded - had I not shown up! And you thought I was a ghost, the Spirit of Vengeance! That shows your silly CHILDISHNESS! Your belief in ghosts! You're supposed to be a grown woman! You're older than I am! You should have known better! You did not plan a workable plan of escape - and there was one, even from me! It was not too late to act on this - painfully absence - of this escape plan when I gave you my first slap on your STUPIDLY bare bottom! I'M not going to tell you what it was - I'll leave you to figure it out! - And here am I, giving advice to a villainess! But maybe because I know it will go through one ear and out the other!"
Blitzkrieg was now crying bitterly - the failure of her heist, coming so close that she could even grab some of the money, her capture, imprisonment and subssequent hiding by Misfit, and the GREAT pain that accopanied it, her failed attempts at escape, making her bottom even more avaiable to Misfit's lashes, and Misfit's final lambasting of her to accompany the chatisement she was giving Blitzkrieg, as well as Misfit's subtly sarcastic "advice" - all these failures led to the bitter, salt tears flowing from the girl-gangster's eyes. But during her whole punisment Blitzkrieg refused to acknowledge her own guilt in trying to commit a crime to heself, even though she had told Misfit that she had "Learned her lesson", that she would not so much as contemplate a crime in the future - Blitzkrieg was by no means actually penetent. Nor yet did the girl-thief recognize her own faults in the commission of the crime or even an escape plan. She said nothing about the second failure, and nothing further about her "Sorrow" at having tried to commit the crime. Blitzkrieg was speecless; she could only cry, hiccup and sob. And STILL her whipping continued!
Finally, after 45 full minutes of giiving Blitzkrieg, as she had promised, the licking of her life, Misfit decided she had somewhere else to be. Why waste anymore time on this "failure," as Misfit thought to herself. So she suddenly brought Blitzkrieg's punishment to an end. She put the undamaged gold chain where she had found it, released Blitzkrieg from the window, raising it to allow the girl's exit from her captivity, and even helped Blitzkrieg up, feeling that she had cramps or cricks on her back, neck and arms, as well as her legs; but Blitzkrieg stood up straight, though slowly, none the worse for wear--except, of course, her bottom.
After this Misfit told Blitzkrieg, "If I ever catch you trying to commit a crime again I will carry you to Superman or Wonder Woman, and I'll let them deal with you! I assure you, you've NEVER been spanked until either one of them carries you to the sky, where escape is impossible, and REALLY thrash you! Do you understand, Blitzkrieg?"
"Ja, meine Lady!" Blitzkrieg said, humbly curtsying before her disciplinarian, "I comprehend totally! Sie vill zee mir nicht more!"
"Very well, my girl," Misfit said sternly, "Now off with you! Go!"
"Ja vohl, mein Fräulein!" Blitzkrieg answered, and she ran, as fast as her heels would allow, out the front door and down the street. No one was out, but soon she eyed a police patrolman, who saw her running and suspected some sort of mischief, and considered trying to stop the girl, who was in tears. But since no one appeared to be pursuing her, he let her go. But, when he looked at her back as she was running, he saw the indecently short skirt that revealed a very red, sore bottom, and he knew it was Blitzkrieg. He said "Stop!" loudly enough for her to hear, but she ignored him, and he was rather indifferent. He put his whistle to his lips to help enforce her apprehension, but considering her crying state and her oh-so-red bottom, he decided the girl had already been caught and punished by a hero, so he let her go altogether, and resumed his relatively uneventful patrol.
And so Blitzkrieg continued her run uabated, to the short distance of her motel. Klippity! Klop! went her shoes as she ran; in spite of their incompatability with running Blitzkrieg refused to take them off, too frightened to stop and take the time to do so.
Soon she was in the parking lot of her motel; but Blitzkrieg only went into he room to collect the few things she had taken with her. She did this hurriedly and left, not even taking the time to shut the door behind her. She got in her car as fast as she could - trying her best to ignore the stinging pain on her rear end as she sat in the car, and not thinking to bring out a pillow from her bed to sit on in the car and ease her pain, Blitzkrieg drove away to a place known only to herself.
Blitzkrieg's costume did not at all enhance her reputation among the "good guys" nor yet among the criminal underworl, led by such deadly criminals as Joker, Batman's persitent nemesis, and Lex Luthor, who dared to challenge the invincible Superman. Typically, besides her dangerous, purple gloves, the girl wore long purple socks, and purple, high-heeled shoes. So far so good. But in spite of her wholesome, beerwench facade, Blitzkrieg wanted to appear as sexy as she could as she could during her criminal activities, so she wore a short-short skirt, actually a one-piece number that only barely covered her breasts; but since she wanted to appear as alluring as possible, if only to herself, the defect in her clothing, did not particularly embarrass her. But this phenomenon embarrassed bot the criminal community and the law-enforcement enforcers, including the superheroes and superheroines. But there was one more, very indecent part of her dress that not only embarrassed everyone involved with her was that her short-short skirt did not usually reveal only her panties. On a good many occasions she wore a "thong" instead of panties, leaving her bottom completely uncovered, ther for all to see; this article of clothing contributed to making her a laughingstock among the bad guys and the good guys. But Blitzkrieg believed her over-all appearance made her sexy, and she ignored criticism from her colleagues, even laughter. The important thing to Blitzkrieg was that her dress made her appear sexy, if only to herself. But she was sure other people agreed with her, if not her fellow criminals or the heroes, then at least anyone who saw her committing a crime would think she was a sexy, naughty girl!
But more embarrassing than this, two things that made her the least, seriously taken criminal in either the underworld or in the worl of heroes. Blitzkrieg had not once carried out successfully any heist or other criminal activity; she would not listen to advice from more experienced, and successful, criminals than herself, believing, everytime, that her plans were "invincible." She refused a plan to "apprentice" her to an experienced, fortunate law-breaker, thinking her mentor could teach her nothing she didn't already know and unswervingly put into practice. Without fail she either blamed her failures on "sorcery," somehow practiced by the heroes or someone closely allied to them, poor choice of target caused by the "stupidity" of the very few adherents she had in the criminal world who often acted as her advisers - though in fact these people all had more experience than her and almost always advised her against a target she had locked onto, very jack-assedly judging by the results,and she likewise blamed the failures of her attempted heists on just plain bad luck. Never did she blame herself. In fact Blitzkrieg had a very exaggerated opinion of her own intelligence; in fact the girl was herself on the rather stupid side; if not she was silly in excess, and completely incompetent. The "magic" gloves with the "lightning fingertips" were practically useless under her control. She had never been trained - by her own choice - in their most effective use by either the all-female terrorist group she bought them from, and she ddeclined help from both male and female supervillains and supervillainesses who alone possessed the potental power these gloves could provide Blitzkrieg. "I can handle them myself very well!" Blitzkrieg would say to them.
Well, Blitzkrieg found an opportune moment, and opportune place, to carry out a fat heist, making her rich and taken seriously by her criminal companions. Far away from her headquarters of Gotham-city, Blitzkrieg found a rather successful jewelry store on her computer. It was closed on Sunday, and most remarkably, she found that its alarm system was old-fashioned and could easily put out by her "magic gloves," and there was no indoor laser system to protect the store or its jewels. On top of that the store owners felt they had no use for a security guard, inasmuch no one had ever attempted to break into the store. She found all this out on the so-called criminal's computer, immune from search by law-enforcement agents by a microchip that scrambled the computer from outside surveillance and reported all information the underworld would find useful for criminal activities. Blitzkrieg had found what she considered a fail-safe hit. She told her usual accomplices that she was driving alone in her unmarked - licensed car. In three days she arrived, and checked into a swanky motel near her target
Blitzkrieg, had planned her "attack" on the jewelry store practically as she learned about it's success but vulnerability in Gotam-city, and solidified it on her trip. So she spent all day and half the night in her comfortable motel-room bed, and finally, at One O'clock in the morning, decided it was time to put her "flawless" plan of the jewelry store robbery into efect.
She decided to walk to her destination, she was so confident in her success, and the store was only a block away. Her attire was, as usual, as "sexy" as she could make it. Her skirt was very, very short, and instead of panties she only wore a thong, which revealed her fair, white bottom to anyone who was there to see. She wore hard-heeled shoes, long, purple socks, and, of course, her "magic gloves." Her garment cvered her belly, but was rather unsteady at the breasts, sometimes even slipping and baring at least one of them, when she walked fast, as tonight - which Blitzkrieg liked, thinking the "look" made her more sexy, more luxurious, more desirable.
It only took her ten minutes to arrive at the store; she believed it was first necessary to disarm the alarm, but she could not find it as she looked through the window. So she decided to use her "lightning fingertip" to disable the entire electrical system of the store. She looked up to find the pole that supported the electric line-conduit that powered the store; very soon she discovered a line from a pole connected to a power box outside the store, aimed both extended hands at the line, and successfully severed it. It did not occur to her that this plan could have caused a dangerous and damaging fire as well as live lines that could cause serious problems later, but fortunately neither of these happened; she had killed the line, which hung lifeless from the pole and the store's power box. She went back to the front of the store and saw the nightlights of the store extinguished, though she could still find her way easily around the store from the streetligts. It had not occurred to this "seasoned criminal" to bring a flashlight.
As a safety precaution of the store's power system, the front doors were automatically unlocked; Blitzkrieg noticed that one of the doors, defectively, stood slightly ajar. So this very naughty, indeed wicked, girl simply opened the door and entered. Blitzkrieg had the foresight to bring with her a large leather handbag in which she intended to carry her loot. She took only glance at the beautiful jewelry, all encased in locked, nearly unbreakable glass, so she decided to go into the back of the store where the main office was. Blitzkrieg could still see clearly enough, even when she entered the office, to find a safe - vault actually, which as it happened contained many thousands of dollars that the owner of the store left in the vault, for purposes of change for the customers or other, various necessaries for the store,, and was only emptied once a week, on Friday. To Blitzkrieg's seeming good fortune, the store owner and all his employees were much too busy to make it to the bank that Friday - it was now the wee hours of Monday morning - so he thought the money would be safe in his vault until Monday. As a result the vault contained more than one-hundred-thousand dollars. Blitzkrieg approached the vault, shaking but rather awkward than spry, with excitement. She tried the vault, to see if the downed electric system had unlocked the vault, but to her disappointment - it would have come as no surprise to any other villain - the safe was still locked. So she backed a good distance away and aimed her extended, wobbling hands toward the lock of the vault and opened fire. Within seconds the lock was broken and the vault door creaked open a little. Blitkrieg smiled at her success.
The villainess smiled broadly when she opened the safe widely and saw the stacks and stacks of monet. Blitzkrieg wasted no time. She bent over and opened her handbag wide, and began - but only that - to take a stack of money out of the vault. But unknown to the young criminal, a seemingly-ghostly figure appeared behind her on the left side, and then solidified into the superheroine Misfit - whom Blitzkrieg had never heard of. The superheroine was only a teenage girl, but she was far stronger than all her opponents. She could appear in one place, disappear, and then instantly appear at another. She had super speed and super stealth. When she entered the main office of the jewelry store, seeing Blitzkrieg bending over to collect "her" money, the wicked girl had no idea that she was there.
 |
| "Ja! Mein! Mine! Mine!" "What a view!" |
 |
| "Well, while you just asking for it, take this!" "AU!!! What the hell?!" |
Blitzkrieg assumed that the ghost or phantom - or magic superhero or superheroine - only spoke English so she said in the language, shortly before her projected departure, "I Adjure you, gheist or Mann or Weib! I COMMAND you to identify yourself! Ich vill first tell du wer ich bin - ich bin heist Blitzkrieg, einne great wizard wer takes vat sie wants! Nun, du identify yourself! I ADJURE du!"
Misfit appeared in back of Blitzkrieg, and patted her bare bottom. "Well, gangster - you're HARDLY a wizard! If you must know my name is Misfit! Iam an associate of Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman! THEY don't have time to waste with the likes of you! And Wonder Woman even told me to ignore you're break-in, that you were just too DENSE to carry out a successful heist! You've NEVER succeeded, "Blitzkrieg" and you never will! You may or may not have succeeded in you attempted heist tonight, but I am here to see to it that you definitely fail and that you do not get away from this place without being sternly punished!"
Blitzkrieg assumed the girl-hero was of supra-human strength, but she did not know if she was invulnerable at least to pain, so the young criminal aimed and fired her ligtning tips at Misfit, but even before the flames got close to her this strange, phantom-like girl disappeared -and then reappeared mysteriously in another part of the room, but still close enough to apprehend Blitzkrieg whenever she wanted.
 |
| "Die! What the hell?! Is it a ghost?!" |
Fortunately for the red-haired, teenage heroine, within reach of her was a golden chain, unbreakable, Misfit could see, because of the steel-reinforcemets between each of the gold ringlets. Misfit decided this would be an excellent instrument of punishment for naughty Blitzkrieg's all-so-available bare bottom, and she began laying lash after lash on villainess's criminal butt.
"I know you've never succeeded in any crime you've ever committed, Blitzkrieg," said Misfit, loudly over Blitzkrieg's cries of pain from each LASH of the golden chain.
"AUTSCH!" yelled Blitzkrieg, since almost every word Misfit said was punctuated by a hard, all-encompassing THRASH, "Bitte Sie, Fräulein!" cried Blitzkrieg, now very respectfully--not withstanding that Misfit was 6 years younger than her, "Bitte Sie! Ich habbe had enough! Sie must stop! Ich habbe had es! Ich habbe learned my lesson! NIE! NIE again vill ich zo much as attempt, or think, about a robery again! AUTSCH! AUTSCH! Bitte Sie, ma'am! Mein ass ist on fire!"
However, Blitzkrieg's yells and pleadings fell on deaf ears. "Your in for a long, long licking, Blitzkrieg! The longest - and hardest! You've gotten so far! Still, 'Blitzkrieg,' you should count yourself as lucky! Lucky that you didn't fall into the hands of Superman or Wonder Woman! Your 'magic fingers' would have been nothing to them! They would carried you humiliatingly to the sky, and whipped your ass with their bare hands! Ignominiously they would have carried you by the waist and spanked you -oh! ever-so-hard! And then, who knows? They may have carried you to the prison of the Justice League, where you would have been for a long time to make sure you lean your lesson!"
Blitzkrieg was in great pain - and now desperate. "Please, ma'am! DO'NT carry me to jail!" But Misfit was silent at this. She decided the a part of Blitzkrieg's punishment should be to remain in fear that she would be further punished with jail. "I think you should stick to the problem you have now, Blitzkrieg! It seems to me that what you're getting now is worse than anything you can get in jail!
"Ja! Ja!" Responded Blitzkrieg, "You speak truly! But, Bitte, ma'am! Ich don't deserfe such treatment! Mein ass ist soooooo tender! Es ist one von mien best features! Oh, bitte Sie, Freulein! Ich ruff Sie! Don't damage es!"
Misfit's response was to LASH the naughty bare bottom of Blitzkrieg all the harder.
WHISH!. . . . SWHISH!. . . . SWHOOSH!. . . . WHOOSH!. . . . LASH!. . . . WHHHIIIPPP!. . . . CRRRRRRACK!. . . . THRRRRRRRASH!. . . . SWHISH!. . . . THWHAAAAAAACK!. . . .
"AUTSCH!" the desperate girl yelled; "OOOOOOOHHHHH!. . . . HOWWWWWWELLLLL!" Blitzkrieg felt that Misfit had been right; the whipping she was getting was much, much harder than any she had yet received, from anyone, from either the Justice League or the loose criminal cartel to which she was coonnected.
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| "I need to... Ugh!" "Well, well, well, now it's time to a very serious talk!" "AUA!!! That stings! AUTSCH!!!" "Crime doesn't pay! And all bad girls end up with a very sore butts!" |
Blitzkrieg got one final idea to escape from her punishment. She stationed her feet firmly on the ground. Misfit was still thrashing her painfully; after half an hour Misfit had not lost any of her strength. But Blitzkrieg tried, with great difficult, but finally successfully, to practically bend her hands and writs bakwards so she could use her "lightning fingers" to destroy the window that held her captive. Then, she felt certain, she could make good her escape from Misfit and her EVER-so-painful strength combined with her gold chain.
Blitzkrieg had just about gotten her fingertips where she wanted them, Misfit, busy whipping the young criminal, stil not noticing her truant's maneuver, or seeming not to notice it - Blitzkrieg took one matter, rather suddenly and shockingly, that if she used her "magic fingers" to destroy the window, would she not be destroying herself as well? Her fingertips could only go in one direction - the open window that held her! At the very least, Blitzkrieg knew - at the last possible minute - her back could be seriously burned, and in spite of the fire that could flow out of her fingertips Blitzkrieg was more afraid of fire, or burning, more than anything else. Blitzkrieg's plan, silly, foolish, incomplete as it was, fell to the ground in smoking ash. But the young villainess, not TOTALLY preoccupied, though almost, by the sound thrashing she was getting from Misfit, decided on one more plan of escape. Her feet were stil as firmly as she could get them planted on the foor: so Blitzkrieg decided to use her feet and legs to cast herself out of the window with all of her strength, and the young criminal was fairly strong (though never too strong to escape from a whipping). So almost as soon as she thought out her plan, this one safe, Blitzkrieg attempted to put it into operation.
First of all the youthful bad girl gripped the window as tightly as she could, ready to use ase all the strength she had in her arms to help pull herself along; then he planted her feet in a running - or rather jumping - position. However, this had the unfortunate, humiliating requirement of Blitzkrieg sticking out her butt further thanit already was. Nevertheless she tried to persevere: but leaping through the window was made impossible by the very movement of her butt: she had also to use her back and part of her legs to "bust" through the window, but the window clapped all the more on Blitzkrieg's shoulder blades and lower neck, and Misfit finally heard and saw what the object of her ire was trying to do; strong as she was she held the partially-open window more closely on Blitzkrieg, and the young woman's ass was now sticking out more ignominiously than before. In these two unsuccessful attempts at escape Blitzkrieg had shown her utter foolishness and failure to take into account all defects in a projected plan, something that both seasoned villains, as Blitzkrieg should have been by now, and even heroes did as a matter of course. Faced with these failures, and the humiliating, even more painful, position of her buttocks after the "thrashing" of her second plan, Blitzkrieg began cursing her disciplinarian, in both German and English, and began struggling, no part of an organized plan. She tried to position her feet under the wall, beneath the window to force her body out of her imprisonment in the shut widow; but the pain the criminal felt in the back of her legs in her desperate attempt which could make them temporarily useles in running, and the realization of the fact that she would have to very painfully wrench her shoulders , neck - and head to escape Misfit's iron grip on the top window sill -well, having thought of these matters almost too late - the result being the serious injury of Blitzkrieg, the girl tried to move and kick her way to her feet's former position without success, and the result was that Blitzkrieg's butt stuck out all the more to receive Misfit's hard lashes.
"I know you've been trying to escape, Blitzkrieg," Misfit said, "But as your rear end can feel, your FOOLISH, incopetent, thoughtless failures have all worked against you! No wonder the heroes don't take much notice when you're attempting a heist! They all come and easily overcome and punish you themselves, or they don't even respond at all, relying - always correctly - on your own silly plans to fail, resulting in you running away from the scene of your attempted crime! But tonight was a little different. Tonight, even though the other heroes of the Justice League wanted to ignore your projected crime - tonight I thought you had a real chance of success - don't ask me how I knew it. And there you were, at the stores vault, just about to "transfer funds" from the vault to your handbag. And I daresay you would have succeeded - had I not shown up! And you thought I was a ghost, the Spirit of Vengeance! That shows your silly CHILDISHNESS! Your belief in ghosts! You're supposed to be a grown woman! You're older than I am! You should have known better! You did not plan a workable plan of escape - and there was one, even from me! It was not too late to act on this - painfully absence - of this escape plan when I gave you my first slap on your STUPIDLY bare bottom! I'M not going to tell you what it was - I'll leave you to figure it out! - And here am I, giving advice to a villainess! But maybe because I know it will go through one ear and out the other!"
Blitzkrieg was now crying bitterly - the failure of her heist, coming so close that she could even grab some of the money, her capture, imprisonment and subssequent hiding by Misfit, and the GREAT pain that accopanied it, her failed attempts at escape, making her bottom even more avaiable to Misfit's lashes, and Misfit's final lambasting of her to accompany the chatisement she was giving Blitzkrieg, as well as Misfit's subtly sarcastic "advice" - all these failures led to the bitter, salt tears flowing from the girl-gangster's eyes. But during her whole punisment Blitzkrieg refused to acknowledge her own guilt in trying to commit a crime to heself, even though she had told Misfit that she had "Learned her lesson", that she would not so much as contemplate a crime in the future - Blitzkrieg was by no means actually penetent. Nor yet did the girl-thief recognize her own faults in the commission of the crime or even an escape plan. She said nothing about the second failure, and nothing further about her "Sorrow" at having tried to commit the crime. Blitzkrieg was speecless; she could only cry, hiccup and sob. And STILL her whipping continued!
Finally, after 45 full minutes of giiving Blitzkrieg, as she had promised, the licking of her life, Misfit decided she had somewhere else to be. Why waste anymore time on this "failure," as Misfit thought to herself. So she suddenly brought Blitzkrieg's punishment to an end. She put the undamaged gold chain where she had found it, released Blitzkrieg from the window, raising it to allow the girl's exit from her captivity, and even helped Blitzkrieg up, feeling that she had cramps or cricks on her back, neck and arms, as well as her legs; but Blitzkrieg stood up straight, though slowly, none the worse for wear--except, of course, her bottom.
After this Misfit told Blitzkrieg, "If I ever catch you trying to commit a crime again I will carry you to Superman or Wonder Woman, and I'll let them deal with you! I assure you, you've NEVER been spanked until either one of them carries you to the sky, where escape is impossible, and REALLY thrash you! Do you understand, Blitzkrieg?"
"Ja, meine Lady!" Blitzkrieg said, humbly curtsying before her disciplinarian, "I comprehend totally! Sie vill zee mir nicht more!"
"Very well, my girl," Misfit said sternly, "Now off with you! Go!"
"Ja vohl, mein Fräulein!" Blitzkrieg answered, and she ran, as fast as her heels would allow, out the front door and down the street. No one was out, but soon she eyed a police patrolman, who saw her running and suspected some sort of mischief, and considered trying to stop the girl, who was in tears. But since no one appeared to be pursuing her, he let her go. But, when he looked at her back as she was running, he saw the indecently short skirt that revealed a very red, sore bottom, and he knew it was Blitzkrieg. He said "Stop!" loudly enough for her to hear, but she ignored him, and he was rather indifferent. He put his whistle to his lips to help enforce her apprehension, but considering her crying state and her oh-so-red bottom, he decided the girl had already been caught and punished by a hero, so he let her go altogether, and resumed his relatively uneventful patrol.
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| "AU!!! AU!!! Mein Popo! AU!!! Oh, shit! AU!!!" |
Soon she was in the parking lot of her motel; but Blitzkrieg only went into he room to collect the few things she had taken with her. She did this hurriedly and left, not even taking the time to shut the door behind her. She got in her car as fast as she could - trying her best to ignore the stinging pain on her rear end as she sat in the car, and not thinking to bring out a pillow from her bed to sit on in the car and ease her pain, Blitzkrieg drove away to a place known only to herself.
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