Vessels: Cab Fare (Jake 2)

I had been spending the last few weeks saying goodbye to everyone from high school. My three best friends were all spending a year abroad, and none of my pals from the swimming team were going to the same college. The most awkward part was saying goodbye to my ex-girlfriend. We had been on again/off again since our “official” breakup four months ago, and the end of summer would begin a permanent “off.” She was the only girlfriend I’d had in high school; I’ve been told I’m good looking, but I get shy around girls. My friends give me shit about it all the time.

I was still working at the candy store. Since that very confusing (and painful) day when I went for a job there, I’d pulled in a pretty good income for the summer. About a month ago, I had began to wonder if the incident with the beautiful redhead and her spatula had actually happened at all. No one had heard of anyone matching her description. Some people asked me where I knew her from, and why I was so curious, at which I blushed and changed the subject. As it was, I had no evidence that I didn’t imagine it all; my ass had been sore for a couple of days, but after it healed I had nothing. Had I just imagined it being red and stingy? Was I going insane?

I still fantasized about it sometimes. Whether it had really happened or not, it awakened a whole new animal in me. I’d thought about spanking occasionally before. It was something I daydreamed about, once in a while; having a girl draped over my lap, round, juicy ass in the air. It’s a fairly common male fantasy. I had never given my ex more than a couple of playful whacks, but had sometimes been tempted to ask her about going further. The idea of being spanked myself, however, had not occurred to me until the candy shop incident, and now that it was there, it stuck. Since then, I’d thought about it almost daily, and usually felt the urge to masturbate when I did.

That night, I had been at the bowling alley with the few of my friends who were still in town. We bowled from nine to eleven, at which point the alley closed. We would have stayed out longer, but I had work the next morning. My house is only fifteen minutes from the bowling alley, so I had walked there. The sun had set by now, and the air was getting cool. It was summer, so the night wasn’t that cold, but I still wished I had brought a long sleeved shirt.

As I started walking home, the wind picked up. It was blowing from the north that evening, so the air was colder than usual. Man, it almost felt like autumn already!

I turned the corner toward my neighborhood, and was assailed by another blast of wind; I was walking right into it. It was a clear night, but the breeze was frigid. I couldn’t remember a summer night ever having been this cold around my town. I was still at least ten minutes from my house, and already my toes were getting numb. As I trudged onward, the wind picked up, pushing against me like an icy wall. Where the hell was this weather coming from? Ruefully, I looked down at my sandals, which left most of my feet exposed. I was wearing blue jeans rather than shorts, but they provided little protection from the wind. My arms were getting covered in goosebumps.

After a couple more minutes of this, I hadn’t gotten very far, and I was actually starting to shiver. I considered running the rest of the way, but that would mean pushing even harder against the wind. It had been perfectly normal weather before, but now, in just the last few minutes, it had turned into winter.

As I stood there, shivering, a car pulled up beside me. The front seat window rolled down, and I could feel the warmth of the car’s interior. A girl in her early twenties leaned her head out.

“Hey,” she said, “you need a ride?”

She had a round, pale face, full lips, and shiny black hair tied in a bun. She was wearing a pair of little round glasses over her hazel eyes. I could hear music playing from the car radio in the background.

“Are you going near Hove Road?” I asked.

She consulted the person in the driver’s seat before turning back to me. When she moved her arm aside, I saw that her green, striped shirt was extremely tight, and that her breasts were hugely visible underneath. There was a small, rectangular slit cut about eight inches below the collar, through which a peek at the undersides of those enormous spheres could be had. I wondered who in god’s name designed shirts like that.

She looked back at me. I quickly raised my eyes back to her glasses.

“Yep, we’ll be passing it. Want to hop in?”

“Sure,” I said, shielding my face from an especially strong gust of wind, “thanks a lot.”

I opened the side door and climbed gratefully in. It was warm inside the car, and the music was okay. The girl with the glasses and cut shirt sat in front. In the driver’s seat was a black girl, the same age or younger, with a forest of dreadlocks hanging behind her smooth, sculpted face, wearing a dark pink sweatshirt. Both of them wore jeans.

“So,” I said, once we were moving, “I’m guessing you’re not from around here?”

The white girl shook her head, a soft smile on her full lips. “Nah, we just pass through every once in a while. Y’know, pop in and out.”

“I gotcha. What are your names?”

The white girl giggled a little, turning further around so that her expansive chest (with its little window) was in view. I tried to keep my eyes level with hers.

“I’m Brianna,” she said, pronouncing it the English way (bri-ah-nah), “this is my girlfriend, Genie.”

Genie smiled at me in the rearview mirror, revealing the most perfect set of white teeth.

I smiled back. “I’m Jake,” I said.

A minute passed in silence. The two ladies sat in place. I felt like they were waiting for something.

“Gee,” I said, feeling a need to make conversation, “I dunno why its so freezing tonight.”

Genie giggled mischievously. Brianna glared at her.

“Is something funny?” I asked nervously.

“Nah, nothing really,” said Genie. Her voice was heavy, and had a twangy, African American accent. “We just like to keep it really warm in here.”

Brianna shook her head. “Don’t mind her,” she told me, “she doesn‘t know when to shut up.”

Genie knocked her right hand gently against Brianna’s face, upsetting her glasses. Brianna squealed a little and straightened them. As she wiped the lenses, her goliath breasts bounced up and down inside their restraints. I know this is getting redundant, but they really were awe-inspiring.

We drove on in silence for a few more minutes. I was just thinking of trying to start another conversation, when I looked out the window. We weren’t anywhere near where I lived. In fact, I had never been to this part of town before.

“Um, sorry,” I said, “I think you forgot to let me out. I don’t recognize any of this.”

Genie chuckled. “Stop complaining, babe.”

“What? What do you mean stop complaining? I need to get home, where are you taking me?”

“Nowhere,” said Brianna, her eyes twinkling with mirth, a huge grin spreading across her soft face, “we don’t really go anywhere. Like I said, we just pop in and out.”

Not making any sense of that statement, I said “pull over. Just let me out here.”

Brianna kept leering at me, turning a little further so that the cutout part of her shirt was in view.

“You know,” she said, “I think he’s right, Regina. This looks like a good place.”

“Yeah,” said Genie, bobbing her head (which shook her dreadlocks) and chuckling, “I was thinking that too.”

Genie pulled into an abandoned alleyway. I tried to open the door. It was locked.

“What the fuck-” I grunted, pulling at the handle. I was cut off in the middle of my sentence by a feminine hand that pushed me back against the seat. Brianna had taken her seat belt off, and was looming over me, one foot on the floor, the other knee resting on the front seat. She was gazing straight into me, her glasses seeming to amplify the force. She was smirking like a mean little kid.

“Don’t use that kind of language,” she said, “or we might have to punish you.”

“What are you-”

I tried to protest, but was distracted by a metallic click, accompanied by a cold sensation around my wrists. Genie had turned around, and somehow slipped handcuffs over my wrists. She leered at me, as if she wanted to rub it in that I had been outmaneuvered.

“Why don’t you be quiet, now?” Said Brianna, leaning in very close. “The more you say, the harder it will be for you.”

Her hand was still on my chest, pushing me against the backrest. I marveled at how her hand was so forceful and commanding, but still so soft and feminine. Like metal covered in silk. She pushed her face right into mine, using the other hand to support herself.

“Tell me,” she said, her lips scarcely two inches from mine, “do you want to get home tonight?”

“I…”

I know I meant to shout or threaten or something (I‘m normally good under fire), but at her touch, my brain stopped working. She wasn’t noticeably muscular; under normal circumstances, I could probably outfight her without breaking a sweat, but that didn’t matter. She licked her lips, her tongue nearly touching mine. Her scent was pouring into my nostrils. It had the same effect as the smell in the candy shop. Despite myself, I felt my manhood harden.

“Well,” she said, “while you’re deciding, we’ll get busy.”

The side door opened, and Genie (who must have gotten out of her seat while Brianna was pushing me back) seized my shoulders. Now that I saw her upright, I realized what a gorgeous specimen she was as well. Her skin was the color of milk chocolate, with thin, black eyebrows curved over her wide, bright eyes. Her smile was all the more alluring for its sadism. I also couldn’t help but notice how wide and curvy her hips were.

I shook my head, trying to remind myself that I had been kidnapped, and had no idea what these crazy bitches were on about. What the hell was I thinking, checking them out while they handcuffed me? I tried to lift my bound hands in defense, but Brianna grabbed them. She wasn’t as strong as I was, but the two of them were working in concert, and my muscles weren‘t coordinating right. Genie, who was the more muscular, grabbed my chin and forced me to lean to the side. As I struggled and gnashed my teeth to get free of her hand, I felt a warm, soft body squeeze past me, rubbing against my head in a rush of perfume and heat. As they wrestled me down, Brianna was seating herself next to my head, pushing me down over her legs and scooting further under me. At the same time, another set of handcuffs clicked shut around my flailing ankles.

“Look,” I said, comprehension finally dawning, “if this-”

SMACK!

A strong hand slapped against my ass. Genie was standing in the car door behind me, giving me an “I told you so” look. I tried to pull free again, but another spank, harder than the first, put a stop to that.

“Okay, Genie,” said Brianna, who had now positioned herself directly under my hips, with me lying across her lap, “pull ‘em down!”

As Brianna used both her hands and all of her weight to keep me pressed against her lap, I felt Regina stick her hands beneath, fumbling with the zipper of my jeans. Her groping hands pushed against my dick. In a single, brutal motion, she had pulled my pants and underwear down to my ankles. The sudden rush of cold air from the open door bit my naked skin like ice, making me gasp when it reached my balls. My penis, which was still semi-erect, was struck by both the cold air and the warmth of Brianna’s thigh, producing a mix of sensations that made me moan out loud.

“Damn, Brianna,” I heard Genie laugh, “it almost sounds like he’s enjoying this. We need to teach him to take us seriously.”

“I completely agree,” said Brianna, jabbing an elbow into my back to keep me over her lap, “this young man is about to receive a sorely needed lesson in respect.”

Soft, ticklish fingernails ran across my sensitive buttocks. I gasped again.

SMACK!

“Enough squeaking! This is serious business!”

The hand that assaulted my ass that time was smaller and softer, but was swung with just as much force. Looking over my shoulder, I saw Brianna’s right hand sliding back over my butt. Standing just outside the car door, Genie was pulling out a camera, beautiful, white grin still on her face.

“No!” I managed to croak. “You can’t film this! I’m-”

SMACK!

“We decide what gets filmed and who sees it,” said Brianna, “not you.”

“I’m ready,” Genie said from behind me, “go for it.”

Brianna began to spank.

Her fingers were thin and supple, but Brianna had surprising strength in her arms; her hand was like a strap, cracking against my ass cheeks each time it hit. She didn’t swing as hard or fast as the redhead in the candy store had, but it still didn’t take long to start stinging. Every second, her hand would strike a random cheek; I never knew which one it would be. About two minutes in, she took her elbow off my back and grabbed my left buttock with her free hand. She then delivered ten hard swats to the lower inside part of each cheek, which made me howl out loud and dance across her lap, arms and legs pulling against the cuffs as the pain darted down toward my anus. Then she put her elbow back on my spine, and kept spanking like before, laying more fire over my now-stinging crack. Between each blow, I felt the cold wind leap back over my skin, which only accentuated the burn when she smacked again. All the while, her pendulous, round breasts were so close to my back I could feel their warmth…but they never touched. The worst part was the knowledge that Regina was filming it the whole time, to show to whoever she wanted, whenever she wanted.

“Okay, slow down girl,” Genie said after several more minutes, “its someone else’s turn.”

“I know,” said Brianna, stopping the spanking to gently run her fingernails over my ass cheeks again (making me jump a little), “you don’t have to be impatient.”

Both of Brianna’s forearms went onto my back. She leaned forward, making it so I had to put effort into breathing. Now that she was leaning over more, I thought I could feel just a soft trace of breast grazing my back.

Genie whistled as she set down the camera and stepped up to the car door.

“Here,” she climbed halfway in, so that she was literally standing over my naked ass and legs, “hold him tight.”

Genie swung her arm back, and connected hard with the underside of my butt cheeks.

POW!

Genie was way stronger than Brianna (or even the redhead), and the angle she was at meant her hand was colliding with the most sensitive part of my lower rear. The feeling went deeper, running down through my buttocks and into the base of my crotch.

POW!

She struck again, driving my body forward a centimeter or so over Brianna’s jeans.

I clenched my teeth to prepare for the next blow, but it didn’t come.

“Brianna,” I heard Genie twang, “I can’t keep going at this angle. You want to do the camerawork?”

Being reminded about the camera made my face blush as pink as my ass.

“Alright,” said Brianna. She straightened up. I missed the presence of her glorious breasts over my back.

“Jake,” said Brianna, resting a hand on the inside of my right buttock, fingertips nearly touching my asshole, “if you try anything while we‘re switching places, you will be the sorriest little boy in the history of the planet. Got that?”

She rubbed me a little bit, sending a tiny, tantalizing bit of stimulation through my crack.

“Yes, I got it.”

Brianna lifted my torso up and scooted out from under me. My dick throbbed in protest as the heat of her body disappeared. Leaving me lying on my belly on the car seat, she squeezed past me and out the door. Looking up, I saw a perfect, bubble-shaped butt jiggle under her tight jeans as she got out of the car. I was sorely tempted to touch it, but was too terrified of the consequences.

Genie handed the camera to Brianna, before getting into the car herself. Her perfume was stronger, smelling of citrus. She lifted my bound feet, and sat down on the seat under them, scooting over until her lap was under my crotch. My waist was elevated much higher than it had been on Brianna’s lap, and her legs felt much tighter in their jeans. I realized how thick and luscious those thighs must be, but also shivered in fear at how strong she was. Genie was an athletic, muscular girl, no two ways about it. The cold air kept pouring through the door and chilling my buns and thighs, making the skin tighten.

POW!

Regina’s hand was like a sledgehammer, pressing my left buttock hard against the bone.

POW!

Genie followed no pattern at all. She waited longer between smacks than Brianna had, but hers were also a lot harder. I could hear her hum to herself inquiringly between smacks, as if considering where the next one should go. I could tell she was enjoying her work. She gyrated her body ever so slightly with each stroke, putting her back into it. Just before each smack, her thighs shifted under my penis. The minute, incremental friction was causing a slow, powerful force to build. I realized that these girls could make me orgasm even if I didn’t want to.

Genie leaned far over, so that her breasts were mashed against my back. She whispered in my ear “you like that, don’t you bitch?”

I panted.

She grabbed my testicles, and tightened her fingers just enough for it to be felt.

“Don’t you?”

Feeling horribly exposed with my nutsack in this sadistic stranger’s hand (and in the view of the camera Brianna was now holding), I tried to shake my head, but was persuaded to stop when she started to squeeze.

"Don't you?" She repeated.

No was not an acceptable answer. Burning with humiliation and indignance, I slowly, reluctantly nodded my head yes.

“Ohhh, he likes it!” Crowed Genie, letting go of my scrotum.

“Let’s see how long he can say that for,” laughed Brianna.

“Yeah,” Genie agreed, rubbing her strong, warm hand against my roasted cheeks, “he’ll see what happens when we get ahold of a piece of ass this fine!”

Strangely, I felt just a little flattered. The raunchiness and vulgarity of the term she used made me feel sexy and masculine. Delivered in that saucy black accent, it was enough to make my flesh crawl with more than just the outdoors chill.

I felt something cold, hard, and smooth run across my rear. I looked over my shoulder, and my eyes widened in horror. Regina was holding a small, wooden paddle and sliding it back and forth over my bright, reddish pink flanks. The girl was grinning beatifically as she held me down. Outside of the car, Brianna refocused the camera, making sure she got it all on tape.

“N-no!” I shouted, struggling and kicking against the handcuffs with a renewed burst of energy, “please, don’t use that! I’ll do whatever you want! Just please, don’t-”

“Stop being such a baby!”

Genie grabbed one of my stinging buttocks and squeezed it with her fingernails. I yelped and shuddered. She quickly dug her left elbow hard into my back, and pressed down on my ass with the cold paddle.

“I was only going to give you fifteen,” Genie said, “but since you’re being like this, I’m gonna’ make it twenty.”

I tried, weakly, to get up, but she easily held me down. My willpower had turned to water. All I could do was shut my eyes and grit my teeth.

CRACK!!!

“Ahhh!”

The paddle went far beyond Genie’s hand, or even the spatula that the redhead had used. Rather than the sting that had been inflicted before, this was a deep, penetrating thud. A dull, pulsing sensation, mostly pain but part stimulation, welled up deep in my ass cheek, like a tangle of fireweed.

CRACK!!!

The other cheek was pounded as well. Each paddle lick was like a shock. Stars danced in front of my eyes.

CRACK!!!

“You still liking it, bitch?”

I was about to deny it, but I felt her fingers creeping over my balls again. Whimpering in dismay, I closed my eyes and did the only thing I was allowed to do. Of course, I'm not sure I can honestly say I didn't get something out of the paddling, but right then I just wanted to go home...I think.

“That’s impressive,” said Brianna as I nodded yes, “I’d say make it twenty-five, then.”

“Good idea,” said Genie.

She resumed. Every time it connected, I kicked my cuffed legs and shouted. By fifteen strokes, the tears were beginning. By twenty, I could no longer keep count. The last five blows were a blur, the liquid fire in my ass mixed with the pleasure and pain in my dick. All I heard was the sound of the paddle connecting with bare flesh.

“Check out the paint job!” Said Genie.

My ass was burning so hot, I could no longer feel the cold air from outside. I had no doubt that it was a much darker red than it had been after the candy store incident. Genie touched my right cheek tenderly, her finger tracing a line over my seared and bruising flesh.

“Mmmm,” I heard Brianna murmur, “don’t tell me twice.”

Her voice had developed a purr that made me more aware of my erection; it had gone down somewhat toward the end of the paddling, but was still a little hard.

Regina slid out from under me, standing in the door beside Brianna to admire her handiwork. As she turned around, I (looking over my shoulder, squinting through the tears) was able to make out the shape of the biggest, roundest, most perfect ghetto booty I had ever seen. The instant I laid eyes on Regina’s enormous, jiggling cheeks, my erection sprang right back.

“Jake,” ordered Brianna, “turn over on your back.”

Powerless to disobey, I rolled slowly over, grimacing as my stinging, throbbing ass made contact with the carseat. The cold seemed to have died down a bit, so my nut sack wasn’t freezing, but now my erection was in plain view. I had never felt so exposed.

“Mmmmm,” she licked her lips again.

Crawling forward into the car, Brianna climbed on top of my legs, her face moving over my erect penis. Slowly, she took off her glasses, and lowered her head until her mouth was just an inch from my tip. She pushed her weight against my waist, putting more pressure on my tortured butt. I winced.

Genie snorted and rolled her eyes.

“You’re such a whore, Brianna. Come get me when you’re done with business.”

Genie walked out of sight, allowing me to catch another, brief glimpse of that enormous, bulging bum.

For a torturous moment, Brianna studied my penis, smiling with carnivorous delight. There was an unbearable craving in my shaft, but she kept on teasing. Finally, she went down, and I felt her warm, wet lips close around the head of my cock.

She worked her mouth up and down my shaft, her tongue tickling it around the base of the head. As she worked, she swiveled her head, moving the tickling sensations all the way around. My breathing was picking up.

I tried to say something at one point, but she glared at me menacingly, and I lay still. She opened her mouth and lifted her head. Immediately, her saliva turned icy cold as my penis was exposed, making me grit my teeth. She looked annoyed at having her attention pulled away from my dick, as if she didn’t realize that I was attached to it.

“Jake,” she said, “if you let out so much as a moan before I’m finished, you’re going right back across my lap.”

I nodded hard, desperate to make sure she knew I understood. After a few moments, she put her mouth back around it and continued to suck. She used her tongue like a living creature on its own, her lips pressing in against all the right spots as the heat of her mouth encouraged my blood to flow faster in that area. I wanted more than anything to move, or gasp, but I could not let myself do that. It was torture, but I managed to hold still and keep my mouth clenched shut. Finally, the ball of sensation in my hips exploded, spilling a wave of pleasure up through my penis and into her mouth. I clenched my mouth shut, strangling my cry of release and crunching it into a quiet hiss. Brianna murmured, contentedly, as she tasted my semen. Drawing back her tongue, she sucked harder, licking up every last drop. She swallowed it before straightening up, wiping her lips with her hand. I realized, incredulously, that I had just been raped.

“Good,” she said hoarsely, putting her glasses back on and pulling a bottle of water from under the seat, “looks like you’ve learned the way things work in this car.”

As she gulped down some water, Genie walked back into view.

“Hey, BJ Queen,” she said, “I want to try something.”

She looked smug, as if she had won a contest. I took a break from wiping my dick with my cuffed hands to watch her face.

“I read somewhere,” she went on, “that spankings hurt guys more right after they cum. I’ve got to test this out.”

She raised her hand, which held a straight, wooden switch. She must have cut it from a nearby tree while Brianna was going down on me.

“No!” I shouted, pulling back away from the door. “No way, not any more!”

I raised my handcuffed hands to protect myself as well as I could.

“Well,” said Brianna, “I guess maybe you could try it.”

My heart sank into my gut.

“…but only,” she said, touching the switch and looking over at me, “if I get a turn after you.”

It sank further.

“Kiddo,” said Brianna gleefully, “come outside, or you’ll have to hop home in handcuffs, without your pants and undies.”

Feeling like I was in a nightmare, I stepped outside of the car. We were in a dark, poorly-maintained alley. I didn’t recognize it, and was not sure how long it would take me to find my way home.

Erection gone, face still blotchy and damp, I crawled gingerly out of the car. As I stepped outside, wincing with every movement of my gluts, I noticed that it had gotten much warmer. It was just a normal, summer night. Brianna and Genie stood on either side of me.

“Awww,” said Brianna, “his cock isn’t pretty anymore.”

Regina laughed. “We’ll know if what I read is right, then; if he likes it, we’ll notice. If he doesn‘t…he’ll scream.”

Genie put her left foot on the bumper, making the top of her thigh flat. She stood there, knee up, switch in hand.

“Over my knee.”

I walked awkwardly forward, pants around my handcuffed ankles, until I was standing just before her leg. If anyone happened to look down the alleyway, they would see me, naked from the waist down, butt the color of ripe strawberries.

I bent over, leaning across Genie’s knee. As my head passed near her crotch, I smelled female scent. The knowledge that Regina was turned on by all this made me feel better about it. Crushing my (mostly flaccid) penis against her jeans for the second time, I felt a little extra blood pour back into that part of me.

WHAP!

The switch whistled through the air before cutting into my swollen flesh like a knife. This was a whole new kind of pain; all the force of the paddle concentrated into a thin, brutal line across both cheeks. The pain shot into my prostate, where it bloomed in the wake of my orgasm.

WHAP!

I’m glad they were expecting me to shout this time, because I did. I heard my voice echo across the alley. I was amazed and grateful that no one seemed to hear, but was still afraid that someone would.

WHAP!

“AAAAAHHHH!!!”

WHAP!

“GGHHHA!!”

WHAP!

I was almost hyperventilating after the fifth stroke. When Genie pushed me back up, my handcuffed hands immediately darted to my butt. I could feel raised, welted lines crisscross across my swollen cheeks from the switch. Stars were dancing in front of my eyes. I bounced on my heels, hissing and gasping.

Genie looked at me from the front and the back.

“He was yelping like a dog,” she said, “but I don’t think it really hurt him that much.”

I looked down. My erection was back. I silently cursed at my dick for getting me into more trouble.

“Maybe,” said Brianna, “or maybe he likes the pain.”

Genie laughed. “He likes pain? What a pervert.”

Brianna walked over to where Genie had been. Her green, cut shirt was incredibly tight on her figure. Combined with the streetlights shining off her glasses and the strict sensuality of her raised hair, I wanted nothing more, even in my anguished state, than to tear her shirt off and squeeze those enormous, grapefruit-sized orbs in my hands, to rip her jeans apart and impale her on myself until I passed out. I realized a second later that she was still holding the camera.

“Either way,” she said, “he’s my bitch now. Bend over the hood, bitch!”

Tearing my eyes away from Brianna, I turned and bent over, lying across the warm hood of the car. My ass burned harder as I stretched it, but the warmth of the engine brought some relief to my tired penis.

Brianna’s high heels clicked against the pavement as she stepped closer. I heard the switch whistle through the air, and

WHAP!

Brianna wasn’t as strong as Genie, but at this point that was little relief. I writhed and thrashed against the car, squealing and sobbing, all pride forgotten.

“Hold still!” Brianna ordered, grabbing the small of my back to hold my bottom in position. “If I miss because you’re squirming around, I‘ll make you touch your toes!”

I held as still as my short-circuiting nerves would let me.

Four more times, the switch slashed at my tender, mistreated butt, before Brianna stopped. Blinded by pain, an aching, crushing sensation having replaced the afterglow of the blowjob, I tried to straighten up. This was cut short by another crack of the switch, which caught me so badly by surprise that I screamed like a girl.

“Aren’t you done?” I heard Genie ask.

“You got to use the paddle,” Brianna explained, “I’m doing ten with the switch to make up for it.”

“Huh. If you say so.”

The switch came back down every ten to fifteen seconds. In between strokes, she rubbed and kneaded my ass with her other hand, as if trying to soften it for the switch. This was much slower than the rest of the spankings had been, but I was still barely finished recovering before it struck each time. When the tenth finally landed, Brianna pulled me back to my feet.

“Well what did you expect?" She asked, "no one rides for free.”

I tried to say something, but my lungs wouldn’t obey me. My face was covered with tears, and I was still sniffling. The world was in a reddish, spinning haze. Oblivious to my state, Brianna grabbed my pants and underwear and pulled them back into place, cherishing my yelp when they squeezed my buttocks.

And then, she kissed me. It wasn't a deep kiss, just a fast-but sensuous-peck on the lips. It was over before I could even react to it. I started to say something through my sniffling, but she was already getting back into the front seat.

"We'll take you home now. For reals."

I spent the ride home in silence. I lay, fully clothed but still handcuffed, on my stomach in the back, clutching my thoroughly punished rear in both hands. Genie and Brianna chatted idly as they drove, occasionally looking at me over their shoulders or smirking at me in the rearview mirror.

“Here we go,” Genie said after a few minutes, pushing a stray dreadlock out of her face as she stopped the car, “you’re a free man, baby.”

Brianna reached back and unlocked both pairs of handcuffs. She noticed me staring down her chest; she smiled reassuringly. The proximity of her lips-which had not long ago brought me to orgasm-sent weird sensations down my spine, where they mixed with the pain signals coming from the other direction.

I fumbled the door open, and lurched out onto the street, both hands on my ass. My wrists and ankles had red circles from the handcuffs. I was right in front of my house.

“Nice meeting you, toots,” said Brianna through the window, “keep it real.”

The engine roared, and my rapists sped away into the night. Giddy, I grabbed the doorknob and walked inside, wondering what I would tell my parents about why I had been out so late.

When I entered the living room, the first thing I did was look at the clock…which said it was eleven twenty-five. Exactly the time I had said I’d be home.

Hang on. I left the bowling alley just after eleven. I walked through the cold (which was now completely gone) for at least five minutes. It was probably another ten minutes in the car when the girls drove me to my fate, and god knows how long for me to get spanked, paddled, sucked, and switched. The ride back had felt like fifteen minutes or so.

So how the hell could it only be eleven twenty-five?

I checked every clock in the house, and asked my father (who was in the kitchen) how long it had been. They all gave me the same answer. As far as time was concerned, tonight’s misadventures could never have happened.

I went into the bathroom, and looked at my butt in the mirror. Every inch of it was a dark red, like undercooked ham, with lines of swelling crisscrossing it from the switch. I gently touched it, and felt the appropriate burn.

My parents and friends were concerned and curious about why I was sitting so uncomfortably for the rest of the week, and I had to think fast to deflect the attention. It was healed by the time I got on the plane for college four days later, but the memory sent a psychosomatic sting through certain parts of me. As I looked out the window, my freshman year about to begin, I thought about the three women who had spanked me and mysteriously vanished that summer. I wondered if that was the end.