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Spanking Stories Return to Pink Flamingo Paperbacks Home Page White Cotton Panties by Cherry Deveraux, spanking
Copyright (c) 2003, All rights reserved Muriel stared at the business card she held in her hand. His card held only his name, David Miller, and a telephone number. She probably wasn’t going to be interested in anything David Miller had to say, but it was worth meeting him, if just to see the expression on her employer Ida Mae’s wrinkled-up old face when she said she’d met him in his hotel room. “You’re very beautiful,” David Miller said smoothly. “Thank you.” Muriel smiled uncertainly at him and smoothed back her shoulder-length blond hair. She wore her hair in a ponytail for work, but it made her head ache, and the first thing she always did after she got out of there was take it down, and tonight was no exception. Muriel was nervous, and her hand shook a little as she took a sip of her soft drink. Oh, he’d been nothing but proper; he’d helped her off with her coat after she’d arrived, brought her a Coke from the little refrigerator in his room, and even moved the little table over so that she had something to put her drink on. But she was perched on the edge of one of the double beds that graced the nondescript room, and she felt very uncomfortable. She had always been shy, and she had a hard time meeting his warm brown eyes. It was the reason she worked as a cook at the small café, instead of a waitress. Cooks stayed in the kitchen, and they didn’t have to talk at all if they didn’t want to. David Miller sat directly across from her, on the other bed, and he didn’t look at all uncomfortable. As a matter of fact, he looked supremely confident. His dark skin, hooked nose, and unconscious air of arrogance made Muriel imagine that Arabian princes used to look the same way lounging on pillows while their servants scurried around them, doing their bidding. “So what is the job, then?” Muriel asked softly. “Let’s go over a few things first,” David Miller said. “How old are you, Muriel?” “Twenty-two.” “Good, good,” he said. “You look much younger. Do you have a driver’s license you can show me? And you live at home, correct?” Muriel verified that she lived at home, digging through her purse for her driver’s license. He looked at it and merely nodded, then started a barrage of questions that left her dizzy. Some of the questions made no sense to her, and some made her blush hotly, but she still managed to mumble a shy answer to all of them. Did she have a boyfriend? Was she a virgin? Had she ever been spanked as a child? Had she finished high school, was she in good health, when was the last time that she had a physical exam, would she consider leaving the area if she found a job that paid enough to allow her to send money home to her mother? The questions went on and on, until Muriel was a nervous wreck, and he finally he seemed to be satisfied. “I own an establishment in Memphis,” he said carefully, “where men like to go so that they can … do things with women that they can’t do at home, with their own wives or girlfriends. It’s a very small, exclusive place, and I make a lot of money. So do the girls who work for me. One of my best employees just retired, and I am trying to replace her. So far, I haven’t had much luck, but I have hopes for you, if you agree. I was in St. Louis conducting interviews, and stopped at the café on a whim when I drove by it on my way home. When I saw you, I thought that you would be perfect for the job.” “What kind of establishment?” Muriel asked stiffly. “I think I already know, and if it’s what I think it is, you’re out of luck, Mr. Miller. I’m young and naïve, but I’m not that stupid.” “It’s probably not as bad as you think,” he said with a crooked little grin. “It’s called The Scarlet Hand, and it’s a spanking establishment. Some men like to spank young women, a lot of men like to do it, actually, and they pay a lot for the privilege. It’s not a whorehouse, and it’s not illegal. I won’t lie to you … sometimes we do get visits from the police, but since we are a private club and not a brothel, with members who pay a fee to come there and drink, no one has ever been arrested. All of the women who work there are paid to be hostesses at the club; they are not required to or paid for being spanked. We have several theme rooms, and the members often bring their own spanking partners, or they can make a request of a specific hostess if they desire. But the hostess must consent to the request.” He smiled crookedly at Muriel. “All of my hostesses have an …interest…in spanking, so most of the time, they agree, but it is always a personal choice, and they are not forced or coerced into anything that they don’t want to do.” “A spanking establishment!” Muriel said in shock. “I never heard of such a thing. Men go there just to spank women? What happens if they want to do more than just spank? I’d be scared to be alone with some man I don’t know. What if he really hurt me?” “Some of the men want to do more than just spank, but, again, we leave that up to the individual girl. Our club is about mutual pleasure, and what pleases one person may not please another. We have live performances once a week, and a lot of men come there just to watch those. Some just come there because they want to spank a pretty young girl, and they know my girls love to be spanked. And you would be totally safe. We employ a ‘safe’ word, so that if it gets too rough for you, you can say the word and stop the play at any time. You are always in control. And we have someone monitoring every room, so you are never in danger. You could come to work for me and do nothing more strenuous than serve drinks every night, and you would be richer than you ever dreamed, Muriel.” He told her what she would receive every week, and the amount of money that he mentioned made Muriel gasp. She could hire someone to live in fulltime with her mother and the girls, and still have plenty of money left over. “I … I’d love to make that kind of money,” she said regretfully to him now. “I have two sisters and my mother is just too fragile right now to work. But Mr. Miller, I don’t know if I can do that. I stutter and blush just when I try to talk to people, let alone anything else.” “You’re talking to me now,” he softly chided her. “Actually, your shyness is a bonus with my customers. They like the sweet young things the best. It’s part of the fantasy. Does the idea of being spanked excite you?” Muriel blushed hotly. “Why…um…yes, a little,” she finally stuttered out. “My boyfriend spanked me one time, and I…um…” David Miller stood up abruptly and came to stand close beside her, so close that she could feel the warmth from his strong body. Muriel felt heat begin to pulse down low in her belly, and her heart beat just a little faster. She trembled a little. He really was so very handsome and virile. “Are you sexually attracted to me? You tell me right now, Muriel. Because I am very attracted to you, and I would like to spank you tonight … and maybe more, if you agree.” “Y … yes,” she whispered. “I find you very … I would like for you to …” He reached out and grasped her wrist with one strong hand. “Stand up,” he commanded, and Muriel did. “Good girl. I’m going to put you over my knee right now. I’m going to start out light and build the intensity, Muriel. I want you to take as much of the spanking as you can before you stop me.” He lifted her chin in his other hand and stared into her blue eyes. “Let me make this very clear for you, Muriel,” he said sternly. “This has nothing to do with the job that I am offering you. You can stop me now or at any time, and I will still want you to come to work for me. This is totally separate from work. Do you understand?” Muriel nodded without speaking, her mouth trembling. Her blood was rushing through her veins so quickly that she felt dizzy from it, and she could not seem to look away from him. He exuded sexual appeal almost visibly, and she felt as if he had hypnotized her somehow and stolen her will away. “The safe word is David. You can squeal, and wiggle, and try to get away, and I will just hold you down and spank you harder and harder, unless you say the safe word. You can cry ‘stop!’, and I won’t stop. You can say ‘please’, and I won’t stop. You can cry, and wail, and even scream, and I won’t stop spanking you. I won’t stop unless you say the safe word. I am going to beat your ass until you cry for mercy. Do you understand me?” She merely nodded, because her mouth was so dry she didn’t think that she would be able to speak. A slightly cruel smiled crossed his face, and his hand tightened on her wrist. He leaned forward and pressed his mouth to hers, sweetly, almost chastely, and Muriel kissed him back awkwardly. Then he let go of her chin and began to back toward the bed, pulling Muriel with him. When the bed hit the back of his knees, he sat down and pulled Muriel abruptly facedown over his lap so that her toes barely touched the floor. She gasped as she hit his knees and a large, hard hand immediately began to make free with her rounded rump. He squeezed her cheeks with both hands, then spread her legs apart roughly and cupped her mons in a large hand. “Oh,” she cried, and felt a wet warmth begin to ooze at his touch. “Do you want that?” he asked in his deep voice, and Muriel whispered an affirmative. Smack! Muriel cried out and jumped when his hand slapped hard against her buttocks. She felt an immediate stinging pain that went away quickly, leaving a warm spot in its place. The heat in her buttock seemed to spread, making her tingle between her legs, and she wriggled a little bit on his lap. He laughed deep in his throat and flexed his fingers on the lips of her vagina, one finger delving between them and finding a particularly sensitive spot. She moaned with pleasure. “You know what, Muriel?” he said, his hand rubbing her butt where he had just hit her. “I wanted to beat your ass the first time I ever saw you. I saw you staring at me from the kitchen of that dirty little café and I saw you blush when you saw that I’d noticed. I wanted to jerk you out of that kitchen right that very second, pull down your pants and spank you until your cute little ass was as red as fire and you were squealing for mercy. And now I’m going to get the chance.” And with that, he began to spank her in earnest. The blows fell at the very top of her thighs, and in the center of her buttocks with merciless fervor. Muriel bit her lip to keep from crying out. At first it was bearable enough that she could hold still and not struggle, but then the slaps he gave her became harder and harder. Her buttocks bounced with each rhythmic smack, and she began to wiggle around a lot and moan every time his hand fell, but he took his hand away from her pussy and used his other arm to pin her firmly to his lap so that she couldn’t get away. He slapped her butt again, and again, and she couldn’t help making little sounds every time his hand fell. When he finally stopped, she thought that it was over and tried to sit up, gasping with relief. That hadn’t been too bad; she could stand that every night. Maybe she would come to work for him. It was actually kind of enjoyable. “No!” he said harshly, and gave her a stinging slap right where she hurt the most. Muriel shrieked, and tried to escape his restraining arm as he pulled at her heavy knit pants, trying to get them down over her buttocks. Because her legs were spread, the position brought her into contact with his hard leg, and Muriel felt a tingle run through her whole body. Her whole bottom felt warm, and it was not an unpleasant sensation. She wiggled against his leg again, experimentally, and felt the same thrill rush through her. Muriel realized with amazement that the spanking had aroused her quite a lot; her pussy was wet and throbbing, and her nipples had risen into fine, hard points underneath the cheap, polyester uniform top that she wore for work. “Raise your hips, right now, little girl,” he ordered harshly, and Muriel lifted her hips slightly so that he could pull her pants down her long, slim legs and expose her utilitarian white cotton panties. “I just knew you’d wear this kind of underwear,” he said roughly, running his hand over her panties. “It turns me on so much. I have a thing for white cotton panties. When you come to work for me, you’ll always wear this kind of panties. Do you hear me? Silk clothing, with white cotton panties underneath. Nothing but white cotton panties.” “Yes,” Muriel whispered, goose bumps rising all over her body from the caress of his hand on her buttocks. He rubbed her ass harder, then squeezed her cheeks in both hands. Muriel moaned from the pleasure/pain of it and began to thrust against his leg. He separated and released her buttocks rhythmically, repeatedly, and Muriel began to pant harshly and strain against him. “You like that?” he asked roughly, squeezing her ass harder and faster, bouncing her against his leg. “Do you like that, little Muriel?” “Yes,” she whimpered. “Yes, yes.” She cried out when he suddenly let go of her buttocks. “No! No!” she cried. “Please don’t stop, please! I’m almost …” He slapped her on one buttock, hard, and Muriel squealed. It hurt much more without the pants providing protection from his hard hands. A whole lot more. “I’m not going to let you come yet, Muriel,” he said harshly. “You must do what I say.” And he hit her on the other buttock, even harder. “Say ‘yes, sir’,” he said, spanking her again, in the very same spot. “Yes, sir,” she cried out, arching her back so that her round buttocks thrust up to his hand. He growled low in his throat. And the spanking began again. He hit her harder and harder, until Muriel was moaning and twisting away from him, but true to his word, he didn’t stop. The wiggling and crying out served only to inflame him, and his massive hand struck her thrashing buttocks with more and more force, until Muriel was yelling loudly and pulling at the bedcovers with her hands, trying to get away. He stopped momentarily to pull a pillow over in front of her. “Put your face in it,” he instructed her grimly. “I like to make you shriek, but I don’t want to be arrested. We’ll save the screams for my soundproof rooms at home.” When Muriel was slow to obey him, his hand slapped across her ass so hard that her whole body lurched forward and her face pushed into the pillow involuntarily. She crushed the pillow to her face as his hand rose high to spank her. He spanked her unmercifully, until Muriel was screaming soundlessly, grinding her face into the pillow and grimacing. She jerked with every slap; she was on the verge of tears, but she was determined not to cry for mercy, not to say the safe word. What if he wouldn’t take her with him, to Memphis? And she had decided that she really wanted to go. She liked this; no, god, she loved this, and she wanted someone to do this to her all the time. When he finally stopped striking her, she lay gasping across his lap, hoping that he was done, hoping that he would let her come now, because she didn’t know if she could take any more and she was more sexually excited than she had ever been in her life.
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