SPANK: A Halloween Story

 

SPANK: A Halloween Story

by Alex Bosworth

DCP 1002edit160 SPANK: A Halloween Story 

Brian and Trisha

Dressed
in a fetching pink and red harem-girl outfit,

Trisha Rogers stood in her kitchen humming the theme
to “I Dream of Jeannie” as she unwrapped and dropped
the last of several caramel candies into a sauce pan.

da da,dadadada, dada,dadadada

Then she took some apples from the fridge and began
washing them in the sink. It was Halloween night
and she was making a special treat to bring to a
costume party at her friend Monica’s house.
Her boyfriend, Brian, would be there and she knew
that a caramel apple was his favorite treat.

Actually, it was a distant second on Brian’s list
of treats. His chief favorite was bending Trisha
over and spanking her bottom until it was as
red as an apple. And there were few things Trisha
enjoyed more than a trip over Brian’s knee, but
she’d learned long ago to play the part of the
reluctant participant. She’d beg not to be spanked,
protest when her panties were taken down and
kick and cry the whole time an ass-warming was being
administered. Afterwards, she’d rub her bottom
and pout angrily as if the experience hadn’t brought
her to the brink of orgasm. This act of hers made the

event more exciting for both of them and never failed

in getting Brian harder than a two-by-four.

Just as Trisha finished putting sticks into the
apples, her telephone rang.

“Hello?”
Trisha said, picking up the receiver
as she
put the sauce pan on the stove.

“Hello, Trisha.”
a raspy voice whispered.

“Uh… hi. Is that you, Brian?”

“What are you doing?”

“Making caramel apples.”
Trisha said, putting the
burner on low and setting the timer for five minutes.

“Mmmm! Sounds yummy!” the
voice said
.

“Who are you?”

“The question is… where am I?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Do you like spanking movies,
Trisha?”

“You mean like… discipline
videos?”

“No, I mean mainstream movies that
have spanking
scenes in them.”

“Like ‘McClintock’?”

“Ah, you’ve seen that one!”

“Yeah, my boyfriend Brian has it on tape. Doesn’t
Maureen O’Sullivan gets spanked with a bath brush or something in that one?”

“Maureen O’Hara, actually. And it
was a coal shovel.
Stephanie Powers gets it too.”

“Okay, now I know this is you,
Brian! Only you could be into spanking this much!”

“You ever been spanked with a coal
shovel, Trisha?”

“Well, no. But my boyfriend
threatened to paddle me

with a little cinder shovel a few weeks ago.
But I’m sure you remember that… don’t you, Brian?”

“And where do you keep that shovel?”

“It’s in the den, near the
fireplace.”

“Are you sure? Better check and see.”

With that, the phone went dead.

Trisha shrugged her shoulders and slowly headed into
the den. There, next the hearth, was the ash broom
and fire poker, but the matching cinder shovel was
nowhere to be seen. Trisha was also puzzled to see
that a chair had been placed in the middle of
the room. It hadn’t been there before. She quickly
turned to leave, but at that instant the lights all
went out. Before she knew what was happening, a dark
figure was taking her by the arm and pulling her
somewhere. She could hear the chair creak as her
assailant sat down and hauled her over his lap.

At this point, Trisha was still convinced that her
boyfriend was playing a prank on her. And yet
the hands that held her in place seemed firmer,
stronger than Brian’s somehow. She struggled to
turn her head and look back over her shoulder.
She couldn’t make out much in the darkness, only
the silhouette of a man who seemed to be wearing
a cowboy hat was visible in the scant beams of
moonlight that vaguely illuminated the room.

Then Trisha saw the outline of the missing shovel
as it was lifted into the air. There was a whooshing
sound followed by a loud clang as the flat bottom of
the shovel made contact with Trisha’s backside.
She yelped at the force of the blow. She’d known
the flat smack of a paddle and the sharp sting of
more than one hairbrush, but this was different.
It was harder and seemed more direct, it covered more
area and it really stung! Another swat quickly landed
causing Trisha to gasp. The clanging sound as each
swat landed added a dimension to the spanking that
Trisha found particularly erotic. There was a
certain humiliating charm to the fact that each swat
had a note of its own. Over and over the shovel came
down onto the young woman’s nearly bare cheeks.
The gossamer fabric of her silken genie costume
offered Trisha’s bottom little protection against
the onslaught of stinging smacks.

Although this surprise attack seemed like a cruel,
over-the-top practical joke, Trisha had to admit
to herself that it was fairly exhilarating.
She even began to fantasize that the dark figure
paddling her was in fact not her boyfriend, but
some sort of mysterious stranger who had watched
her from afar, longed to spank her and was now
fulfilling his deepest desire. The idea tickled
Trisha’s fancy so much that she began lifting her
hips making it easier for this phantom spanker to
yank down the lower half of her costume and gain
access to her bare bottom.

Just then, the bell on the oven timer went off
causing Trisha to snap back into reality.
Soon she was begging to be let up.

“Please, Brian! My caramel is going
to burn!”

There was a brief pause and then the
shovel landed
two more times, delivering a hard clanging swat to
each cheek. The next thing Trisha knew, she was
tumbling onto the floor. A moment later she could
hear her front door being opened quickly then
slammed shut. A moment after that, the lights
came back on.

When Trisha arrived at Monica’s party, it didn’t
take her long to spot her boyfriend. He was in the
living room casually chatting with a couple dressed
as Petruchio and Kate from “The Taming of the Shrew”.

Brian was in a cowboy outfit. After putting the tray
of caramel apples down next to the punch bowl,
she advanced on him, ready to smack his face for
frightening her so. But just as she neared him,
her cell phone rang. Stopping dead in her tracks
to answer it, Trisha’s jaw dropped as she heard a
raspy voice on the other end whisper:

“Happy Halloween, Trisha. Thanks for
not screaming.”

A moment later, Brian and several
other party guests
ran to the aid of their friend Trisha, who for some
reason had suddenly fainted on the living room floor.

~ The End ~

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