Page 358 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 1

He finally stopped spanking her, shook his hand twice, then rested it on the surface of her sore and throbbing bottom.

Audrey lay over his hard thighs, gasping and panting and trying hard not to cry. This was quite possibly the meekest moment of her entire life. How embarrassing, to be taken across a stranger’s knee and spanked. She was thirty years old, for crying out loud. A grown woman, and grown women just didn’t get spanked. They for sure didn’t get spanked by hallucinations in dying-illusion forests where huge spiders were wandering freely about.

Blinking rapidly, she stammered, “Is this real?”

“Yes,” he said, exasperated.

“No, I mean is it” —she squeaked— “really, really real?”

The man holding her was quiet. Then, without the slightest hint of rancor, he softly said, “Yes. It’s really, really real.”

From behind them, the two police officers crashed into view through the underbrush, finally catching up to them and all of Audrey’s wounded pride came rushing back to her.

“Let me up! Stop man-handling me!” She bucked and kicked, fighting to get off his lap and getting absolutely nowhere. He’d pinned her just too darn effectively. Grunting, she tried one last time to heave herself up, then shouted to the police, “Don’t just stand there! Arrest the sonofabitch!”

Shaking his head, his mouth compressing in hard, tight line, the man raised his arm and attacked the bouncing swells of her bottom with renewed vigor.

While Audrey shouted and wailed, one of the officers took out a pocket knife. He clipped a thin branch from a nearby maple and trimmed it down before bringing it to them. “Here, son. Lord knows, you’ll wear out your hand before you wear down that wild cat.”

“Thanks,” the man said and took it. “God bless the fifties.”

Audrey screeched as that switch made its debut assault across the seat of her jeans. And though she exhausted herself trying to get away, reprieve from the relentless ‘swish-thwacks’ of that branch came only with the breathless vacuum sensation and the blinding flash of light that dumped her back behind the wheel of the truck.

Yowling like a trod-upon cat, she arched her hips in a vain attempt to get her oh-so-sore bottom up off the stiff leather seat. Tears streaked down her cheeks. Hiccupping and miserable, she cupped her butt with both hands and simply held them, wounded and throbbing, between splayed fingers.

Tap-tap-tap.

Gasping, she turned her head and looked into the very grim face of the man standing once more at her window. They stared at one another for a long time before, wincing, Audrey lowered her bottom gingerly back onto the seat and reached over to roll down the truck window.

“What—” she sniffled, “what was th-that?”

“Scene change,” he told her, his tone once again mild and calm. “We made too many mistakes, the script couldn’t be carried through to the end, so we have to start the scene over. It feels odd, I know. It doesn’t make sense, I know that too. But you’ll get used to it.”

“Who are you?”

“Peter, according to the script. But my name is Morgan Kreiter.”

He put his hand through the open window and, after a moment, she meekly shook it and sniffled again. “Who am I?”

“According to the script, you are Beth.”

“My name’s Audrey.”

“Hello, Audrey.” He let go of her hand. “Come on. Let’s get this scene over with.”

She opened the door and gingerly climbed down to the ground. Groaning, she cupped her bottom again. The rasp of her jeans felt like sandpaper against her tenderized flesh. “What’s my father’s name?”

“Doctor Arthur Waller. He’s a local botanist and spends a lot of his time out here in the woods, which of course makes him prime spider fodder. But you don’t know that yet. Anyway, he went missing about a week ago, and you’re beside yourself with worry for him.”

Audrey sighed. She cast a slightly disgruntled side-long look at the police, who were waiting for them, once more on the road and by their patrol car. Then she turned that same look on him. “I can’t believe they let you spank me like that.”

Morgan half smiled. “Yeah well, lucky you, you’ve landed in a movie that predates political correctness. Spanking young ladies isn’t entirely considered wrong back now.”

She glared at him, but when he held out his hand, she grudgingly took it and let herself be led up to the waiting policemen.

“Looks like a nasty crash,” one officer commented as they were approaching. “Are you okay?”

Audrey gave Morgan another peevish look, but dutifully said, “I was feeling a little shaky, but I’m fine now.”

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