SSC: Fantasy or Reality

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Another erotic story from the FLOGMASTER!

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SSC: Fantasy or Reality

(*****, F/f, Intense, paddling)

Did he only imagine it? (Approximately 487 words. Originally published 2000-06.)

I lay in the dark and listened. The thuds came every second or so. They weren't identical. If I didn't know any better I'd assume it was the whack of a wooden paddle across plump bottomflesh....

Debi. She was stunning, 23, just out of college. She lived here with her mother. They told me I was the first border in four months. With the highway closed, people were few. But I was looking for seclusion and privacy to finish my novel.

The only distraction was Debi. I saw her in the pool and almost creamed my pants. When she emerged, I nearly passed out. Lord, what an ass! Twin cheeks of magnificent curves, full and uncompromising, as tight as a basketball. What a dream to dribble those cheeks!

Obviously, the sound wasn't paddling. It was my imagination. Most likely someone was beating the dust out of a rug or something.

But every night for three days? Then again, who got spanked every night for three days?

Perhaps Debi and her mother had an agreement. I remembered my father's words: "As long as you're under our roof, you're under our rules." Debi would surely chaff under strict regulation. It was entirely possible she'd crossed the line and was right now paying the price.

I could picture her bending over in those impossibly tight nylon shorts as her mother walloped her seat with a big frat paddle. The image made my body come alive. I visualized the swats in sync with the sound. I watched Debi's body shudder with each blow. She made no sound -- she was used to this. She was a naughty girl.

Crazy, I mumbled. You're losing it.

I got out of bed and went for a midnight walk. I told myself I wasn't spying, but I knew where I was going. Indirectly, of course. Wandering, to the untrained eye.

I paused at the cellar door. Definitely the sounds were coming from inside. I could hear muffled gasps or grunts with each wallop. It had to be a paddling, it _had_ to. Didn't it?

Heart tripping loudly, I pushed open the door. The creak was drowned by a heavy thud. I heard a feminine voice groan, "Oooch that hurt!"

Then I saw them. Mother was topless, brandishing a huge paddle. Daughter was naked, strapped to a sawhorse, her bare ass scarlet. Tears dribbled down her face. The paddle bounced off the firm buttocks and the girl grunted dully.

I couldn't breathe. It was more than I'd ever imagined. The world spun and I felt myself falling.

* * * * *

Morning. Light coming in my window. I am in my bed. What happened? The house is quiet. Did I dream it all? Was it real?

I descend to breakfast. Two smiling faces. Pretty faces. Inscrutible faces. Was the girl fidgeting? Having trouble sitting, perhaps? Or had it been a dream?

Damn.

The End

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