Belinda, a blonde brat from Germany, had agreed to let her
landlord, Juan Lopez, give her a spanking, if he didn’t evict her for
playing her favourite Rob Zombie album, as loud as possible, two o’clock
in the morning. A decision she was currently regretting. Even over her
leather mini-skirt, whenever Juan’s hand made it through her defenses,
her hands and her wildly kicking legs, his hand left a burning imprint,
that stung like Belinda’s ample ass had just been attacked by a hundred
angry hornets.
Officer Mary O’Hara, a fair skinned woman
with wild red hair and blue eyes so pale they were almost translucent,
had been sent to Belinda’s building to check out a noise complaint. She
was watching Juan punishing Belinda, disappointed in his spanking
technique. Mary was an expert spanker. Sometimes she offered a first
time offender a choice, spend the night in jail, or the next ten minutes
across her lap. Just last week, she caught a fat-bottomed girl with a
big blonde mohawk spraying painting “A.C.A.B.” on the side of a sawmill.
She chose the corporal punishment option, a bad choice in a lumber
yard. After Mary sat the punk’s bare buns ablaze with her hand, she
found a slat of wood that made a perfect paddle.That paddle left the
bawling brat’s big butt sizzling, her “sit spots” smoking.
Realizing she was doing a poor job of protecting her plump posterior,
Belinda decided to squirm off of Juan’s lap before her buns got any
warmer, a easy task, since he was just holding her down, with his hand
on her shoulder. Once free, she began to hop from foot to foot, pouting
prettily, while rubbing her rear, and pleading, “Please, Herr Lopez, no
more. My Popo is on FIRE! I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll NEVER break
another of your rules!”
Mary’s icy eyes narrowed, giving
Belinda a bone chilling stare, as she spoke to Juan, “Do you mind if I
give you some advice on how to give a proper spanking?” Juan wondered
why she would be able to give him advice like that, but said, “Yes, if
you want to.”
The policewoman stood up, towering over
Belinda, and undid the German’s girl belt, allowing her black leather
skirt to fall to her feet, leaving Belinda wearing just a tiny black
thong. Turning Belinda around, she said to Juan, “Look. This brat’s
bottom is barely pink. A serious spanking shouldn’t end until it’s
bright red.” Belinda wanted to tell Mary, “Mind your own business, you
spooky looking bitch!” but something about the officer scared Belinda.
Mary O’Hara then placed Belinda back across Juan’s lap and instructed
him, “Now, place your right leg, over her legs, she won’t be able to
scissor her legs now. Take her right wrist with your left hand, and pin
it to her back, so she won’t be able to use it to cover your intended
target. Now, FIRE AWAY!”
With Belinda finally locked in
place, and now practically bare bottomed, Juan’s right hand became a
blur. The room quickly filling with the thunderous cracks of Juan’s
heavy hand against Belinda’s rapidly reddening rear, and the
naughty German girl’s howls.
A crowd had gathered outside
of Belinda’s apartment, attracted to the noise. Since Mary had left
Belinda’s front door wide open, they all had a clear view of what was
happening. And loved it. All of the residents of Belinda’s building had a
good reason for why they felt she deserved a good spanking. Joy, a cute
nurse from Japan, turned to the crowd, and said while rubbing her butt,
“I’m NEVER breaking one of Juan’s rules! OWIE! I bet that girl won’t be
able to sit down for a week.”
That gave Dreama Bennett an
idea. Dreama’s late husband used to spank her, whenever he felt she
deserved one. She missed those spankings now. The last time she was late
with her rent, Juan had scolded her, telling her she needed to stick to
her budget better. She wondered what he would do, if she told him she
needed some “incentive” to do that.
Back in Belinda’s
apartment, Mary saw Belinda had a heavy oval hairbrush, lying on her
couch. She picked it up, and handed it to Juan, saying with a sinister
sneer, “If your hand is getting sore, use this.”
Hearing that, Belinda shouted, “If your hand is getting SORE? What about my poor Popo. It really IS on FIRE now!”
If Belinda thought her “Popo” was on fire before, the hairbrush rose
the temperature of her roasting rear to the boiling point, turning her
tush crimson, her “sit spots” maroon. She could feel blisters popping up
like pimples on prom night all over her percolating posterior. Feeling
like a witch, being burnt alive, she reached under the chair and gave
Juan’s leg a vicious pinch. His leg shot up in the air, freeing
Belinda’s legs, he released her wrist to rub the sting away, allowing
her to tumble off of his lap, and do the LAST thing on Earth she wanted
to do, land hard on her blistered bottom. Seeing the crowd watching her
for the first time, she ran to the doorway, shouting, “I HOPE YOU SICK
FUCKS ENJOYED THE SHOW!” before slamming the door shut.
Hearing that Juan said sternly, “You can’t talk to my tenants like that!
Get your ass back over my lap, young lady, I’m not done spanking you
yet!”
STAY TUNED FOR CHAPTER FOUR, “BELINDA AND THE BELT” TO FIND OUT WHAT
HAPPENS NEXT. COMING SOON.
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