Today’s Wednesday and Lurvspanking’s back with a wicked tale of a very special kind of auction… Go read it!
Khalisah al-Jilani, for those not familiar with the MassEffect series of games, is a journalist. And a damn annoying one at that, very hostile in her on-camera interviews with you, the protagonist, and always trying to paint you into a corner. She appears in the 3 first games of the series and never gets less infuriating… Ever since I first stumbled into her web of lies and deceits, I’ve been thinking that she deserved a good spanking… On camera of course!
*SMACK!* the first slap fell and Laura cried out as her eyes watered instantly. *SMACK!* another, just as hard ; she clenched her teeth, moaning painfully as the next ten fell in a quick succession over her short skirt. Way too short, she thought as she lay across her teacher’s lap, the top of her stockings already peeking out from under the blue tartan fabric.
Laura had always been tall, and even now in college she was among the tallests in her class. That had gotten her some attention over the years but never had she regretted more than that morning as she was taking her final in a crowded room and thought herself safe from the eyes of her teachers.
She had thought she would get away with a little help sheet, just a few formulae to help her out. She had thought she wouldn’t be noticed. She had thought she would get away with it. She had thought wrong, of course.
As she was giving her work back, her teacher had taken Laura aside and informed her he would be failing her, and that she could try her luck again the next year. Her head bowed, blushing, tears in her eyes, she had begged quietly, tried to explain herself, promised she would do anything, but it was all to no avail.
Laura had decided to wait in the corridor until all the other students had gone, and had gone back inside to try her luck on last time. Her teacher and the other two that were helping him that day stared at her when she entered the room and walked to them. She couldn’t have been more ashamed —or so she thought at the time.
*SMACK!* the slaps continued to rain down on her barely covered bottom, pain and heat building up rapidly as her teacher scolded her for daring to cheat, having the nerve to ask for leniency, her skimpy outfit, everything. She cried more out of shame than out of pain, the thought of disappointing him even worse than simply failing her class.
He got her skirt up with a quick pull and instantly resumed her punishment, her little light-pink thong offering no protection at all. The two other teachers still hadn’t left the room, and were going to great lengths to go in every row and check that no student had forgotten a pen or an article of clothing, or anything really. She could feel their gaze on her long legs, her red, burning bottom. And still the spanking went on, harsh and unforgiving.
Her thong went down and so did the tears on her face, abundant now. She could feel the bulge in her teacher’s trousers as he continued berating her and slamming his palm on her already crimson behind. She couldn’t even understand what he was saying anymore, the pain overwhelming all her other senses. She moaned, loudly, she cried, she begged. Spank after hard spank rained down on her slender cheeks in a continuous shower, leaving not a single spot unblemished. It seemed to her it went on forever until, at last, he stopped.
He got her up from over his knees and pointed to the desk.
“I’ll give you one hour to retake the exam,” he said, and she nodded, sniffling and trying to wipe the tears off her cheeks. She didn’t dare rubbing her bottom for fear he would take her over his lap again.
“However,” he continued, “you will take it standing at that desk, with your skirt up and your…” he shook his head, “…thong down.”
She blushed. “But sir…”
“I’m not done!” he cut her, and got up, taking his belt of with metallic click, “You will be getting sixty strokes of the belt, one for every minute I give you.”
Laura felt a shiver go up her spine and her hand flew to her bottom. “I…”
“Last chance, miss Spencer. You can walk away and fail your exam, it’s all the same to me.”
Head bowed, she walked over to the desk. He got a fresh paper out of his briefcase and put it down before her. She assumed the position: bent over the desk, a pen in her hand and her throbbing bottom up. She could barely see the paper through the tears.
Her teacher got behind her, his belt held in a loop in his hand. He raised his arm high.
“Your test begins… Now!”
She was nervously twisting her hair around her finger, pinching her lips, not daring to speak.
“So, Zoey, what is it?” her girlfriend asked, raising an eyebrow behind her glasses.
“I just…” she started, and then mumbled inaudibly. Her girlfriend, Sarah, passed a hand in her hair.
“You know you can tell me anything, right?” she said.
“Yes, I know… I…”
Sarah waited, not saying a word. It was the first time Zoey had seemed so hesitant to tell her something. Finally, she asked again, “Is something wrong? Did something happen?”
“No, no, nothing happened… It’s just…”
“I haven’t told you everything… about me?”
“About you? What, are you a criminal mastermind hellbent on world domination or something?” she laughed.
Zoey pouted, “I’m being serious…”
Sarah smiles and offered her hands up in apology. “All right, all right, tell me, then…”
Zoey took a deep breath “Iwouldlikeyoutospankmeplease” she said in one go.
“Wait, wait, what?” Sarah laughed again, “Said it again, slooooowly, all right?” She knew that the more nervous she got, the faster her little lovebird would speak, but this was something else.
“I… would like you to… hum… spank me…” Zoey said, looking down at the floor, her eyes wide open and unblinking. Sarah’s mouth opened a little as her own eyes widened.
“You… want me to… spank you?” she repeated in disbelief. Zoey blushed hard.
“I told you I didn’t tell you everything about me,” she mumbled.
“So, like… Is that a fantasy of yours?” Sarah asked. Zoey nodded her head vigorously, not daring to speak. Her girlfriend pushed her glasses up on the bridge of her nose and crossed her arms over her ample chest, smiling.
“I see… So… Have you been a very naughty girl then?”
Zoey looked up at her, tears filling up her eyes. “You… You don’t mind?”
She shook her head and looked at her lovingly, “Oh honey… of course not! Why would you keep that to yourself?” She beckoned to her, patting the sofa’s cushion by her side. “Come here…”
“Yes ma’am…” Zoey answered.
“I think that keeping thing from your loving girlfriend and making her worry is a very serious situation, miss…”
Zoey nodded again. “Yes ma’am, that was quite bad of me…”
“There’s only one thing to do then… Trousers and panties down, and get over my lap, young lady,” she said with a smile, unable to keep a stern expression too long. Seeing Zoey all blushing and melting with shame and desire was enough to send waves of heat up her core.
The jeans went down to Zoey’s knees and the panties followed suit ; she lay across her lap, expectantly. Sarah rolled up her sleeve. She wasn’t about to disappoint her little lovebird.
By decree of his majesty the King, let it be know that Her Majesty the Royal Princess Adélaïde of France is to receive 30 strokes of the cane on her buttocks for her unruly behaviour during the reception with His Majesty Ferdinand VI, King of Spain.
Her father, His Majesty Louis XV, wishes it to be known throughout the Realm that he cherishes his renewed relations with the Crown of Spain and that none shall sully them.
The event will take place this coming Saturday in the Gardens of Versailles at three in the afternoon. Light food and refreshment shall be available for the honourable members of the court.
Emma 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.
Emma 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…” Emma 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.”
“Come out of your car,” she said again with a stern look. There was no arguing with her and Emma 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?”
“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.
Emma 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.”
Emma 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.
Emma 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 Emma’s jeans and yanked them down to her thighs.
“Nooo!!” Emma 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!”
Emma 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 Emma, 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.
“Well,” she thought, “at least I got away with it again… But that woman spanked a lot harder than the other policemen…”