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.
