Short: Product Testing

This is the first time I've written an M/F scenario, so I'm sure there's room for improvement. In particular, I'm afraid I was a little too descriptive.

...

Robert Kinsley looked at the three boxes that sat on the desk. It was about time; the new models had been due nearly a week ago. Robert was a punctual man, and liked to keep things orderly. His clean shaven face, short, well-groomed hair, neatly pressed black suit jacket and tie spoke for him in this regard.

“I‘m sorry again for the delay, Mr. Kinsley,” said the clerk, “but here they are. Serial numbers HB22, HB23, and BB05 fresh out of the workshop.”

Robert nodded curtly. “I trust preparations for mass production have been made?” He had a subtle British accent that matched his trim appearance like tea and biscuits.

The clerk nodded, holding up his clipboard. “As always. They‘re just waiting for our approval.”

Robert looked at the three boxes with their serial numbers again. He had been the head manager of Product Testing for several years now, and was well used to the procedure. Time to make or break these new prototypes.

“Understood. Bring in the subjects.”

Robert stood behind the desk, waiting patiently. Under the wrapping, he was a tall, athletic thirty-year-old with a deceptively slender frame. There was a cushy, armless office chair beside him, but he chose not to sit down just yet; he would be using that in a bit. In a few minutes, the clerk came back in, followed by three nervous-looking young women, wearing only loose-fitting T-shirts, panties, and socks. These were the guinea pigs.

One of the new arrivals was Rose, a black woman of twenty-eight. She was the tallest of the three, with a flowing, big-boned figure. Her hair was cut just above her shoulders, framing a smooth-featured face with green eyes, full lips, and milk-chocolatey brown skin. She was strong-looking, with a robust frame and wide, womanly hips, but she also looked the most anxious. Robert couldn’t blame her; this was her first day on the job. He made a point of smiling at her reassuringly; she tried to smile back, but quickly looked away again.

The second woman was Jolene, a cute white girl with nineteen years to her name. Jolene was the shortest of the three, but made up for it with a bit of…“plumpness” would be the word. She wasn’t anywhere near fat, but she did have a slightly convex belly and cute love-handles that gave some shape to her T-shirt. Elbow-length, light brown hair fell past her shoulders, running along the sides of a rather prominent chest. She smiled at Robert cheerily, eyes moving between him and the three boxes on the desk. “Do your worst” was what her expression said.

Last was Anna. She was a year or two older than Jolene, but she looked younger; her dainty, smooth-skinned features and wide, dewy brown eyes were those of a teenager. Her body, on the other hand…Anna was a textbook example of the hourglass figure. Large, spherical breasts pushed out against her shirt, giving way to a sweeping, slender torso that widened dramatically into some of the widest, curviest hips Robert had ever seen. Below her (very full) pink panties, her legs were thick, fleshy, and toned. She had darker skin, suggesting a Latin heritage (according to her bio, her family was from Argentina). She gave a shy, somewhat timid smile as Robert‘s eyes met hers.

“I trust you‘re all prepared,” said Robert, stepping around the desk. It wasn’t a question.

Rose nodded slowly. “I think so.”

Jolene smirked. “Oh Rob you big softy! Its not like it‘ll be any worse than last time.” She rubbed her backside in painful recollection. “Ready when you are.”

Anna smiled her timid smile again. “I‘m good to go, I guess.”

Robert gave a calculating glance at Jolene. My, but wasn’t someone cocky this morning?

The clerk came over to the desk and helped Robert open the boxes. The first one contained a small, flat-backed wooden hairbrush, just the right size to be kept in a pocket or purse. Robert picked it up and turned it over in his hand, letting his experienced fingers sample the wood. Maplewood, he thought. He placed it down on the desk, where three pairs of female eyes focused on it.

“That looks like its gonna‘ hurt,” said Rose, turning anxiously to her companions.

Anna nodded, her soft, hazel eyes widening a little. “I wish I could say something helpful,” she said quietly, “But yeah, you‘re right.”

“Personal care maple hairbrush, HB22,” said the clerk, ignoring the trepidation of the women, “four inch blade, one half of an inch thick.”

“Good varnish,” remarked Robert as he opened the second box, “but small. Hopefully it can stand up to wear and tear.”

The clerk chuckled. “Well, that‘s where you come in.”

The second box contained another hairbrush. This one was significantly bigger, with a thick and quite heavy oval-shaped blade. The back of this brush was slightly rounded, almost like the outside surface of a flat spoon. It looked good, mostly, but its handle tapered a little too thin before it met the blade; Robert wondered if this would prove a problem.

“HB23 is the classic hickory brush. Same handle as the other models, but five inch blade with a varying thickness of one and a half inches at the center to one inch at the edges.” As the clerk spoke, Robert felt the back of it and flicked his wrist a little, seeing how it felt in the air. HB23 was noticeably heavier than 22, and had a more forceful swing.

“That,” said Rose, her eyes wide, “that‘s not…who would buy something like that?” She was clearly having second thoughts about this.

“I think I would.”

The other two stared at Jolene.

“What? My hair gets tangly when I wake up.”

Jolene was keeping up her façade of bold nonchalance, but it was obvious she was a little more intimidated by the second hairbrush than she was letting on. Otherwise, her eyes wouldn’t keep going back to it as they did.

“The last one is a bath brush?” Robert asked as he opened the final box.

“Ayup. Maplewood again, water treated. This one‘s a long-handled model, got an eight inch hilt with another six inches of blade. The bristles are soft nylon; no risk of scratches. Blade is just over an inch thick.”

The guinea pigs were silent for a moment as Robert handled this one.

“Well,” said Rose, looking from one of her fellows to the other, “it can‘t be as bad as the big hairbrush, right?”

Anna shook her head. “Don‘t count on it.”

“Its got a long handle,” said Jolene slowly, “a wider arc means more momentum. God, I hope I don‘t get that one.”

Anna glared at her.

“You‘d rather I got that one?” She subconsiously put a hand to her bottom.

“Yeah, actually. I would.”

The other two women glared at Jolene, but they really couldn’t blame her that much. After all, they were all thinking the same thing; please not the bath brush for me.

Meanwhile, Robert had put down BB05 and was dragging his office chair out from behind the desk. Seating himself comfortably in it, he addressed the test subjects.

“I have a decision to make. Ladies, turn around please.”

Rose looked back at the other two to ask if this was normal, but they were already turning around and presenting their panty-clad assets to the scrutiny of the two men.

“Miss Jackson, turn around.”

Robert’s voice was patient, but slightly stern. He was giving Rose a piercing look. Slowly, keeping her eyes trained distrustingly on him, she turned around.

“Which is for which?” Asked the clerk.

Robert thought carefully. Rose had a derriere of the kind black women are known for; lush, thick, and quite substantial, jutting out behind her rounded hips like half of a pear. On one hand, probably quite durable and cushioning. On the other…this was only her first day on the job. Jolene was shorter than Rose, but her hips were just as wide, and the baby fat that was visible elsewhere on her body was even more abundant here. She had a round, very soft looking bottom, each cheek like a heavy water balloon. Both Rose and Jolene, however, were put to shame by Anna. She had some of the widest, most feminine hips Robert had ever seen, and her ass stuck out. It was as if her body had gathered together all the fat it didn’t need and stuffed it tightly into those two jutting, bulging cheeks. Her panties were woefully insufficient to contain them, their shelf-like mass being left mostly exposed.

After looking from rump to rump for a moment, deciding what should go where, he turned back to the clerk. “I think we can proceed.”

The clerk nodded, writing something on his notepad. “Okay girls, you can turn back around.”

They did so, all with baited breath. Rose in particular looked almost ready to faint. The other two seemed slightly less mortified (they had had experience, after all), but they were still anxious to hear the first pronouncement.

“HB22 will be tested on Miss Rose Jackson,” said Robert. “Rose, please come here.”

Rose let out a long, deep breath. On one hand, she was going to get what looked like the smallest and least menacing brush of the three. That was a relief. On the other, she had been hoping to see at least one of the other girls go first, so that she could have some idea of what to expect. It was thus with great uncertainty (and no small amount of looking back over her shoulder at the other two) that she advanced to where Robert Kinsley was sitting.

“Don‘t be nervous, sister, you got off easy,” said Jolene, “just be glad it wasn‘t the bath brush.”

Anna nodded. She and Jolene looked at each other briefly, both wondering frantically who would get which of the remaining instruments of agony. Their attention was soon brought back to Rose’ ordeal by the sound of Robert’s voice.

“You‘ve read the routine, I hope?”

Rose nodded fearfully, staring pleadingly at Robert. She was hoping he would have mercy on her, go easy on her, something like that. He gave no sign of having noticed her trepidation.

“Then you know that our tests are conducted on the bare skin. Take off your underwear.”

Her face sunk. Even through the dark brown of her skin, there was an obvious blush in her cheeks as she reluctantly lowered her hands to her hips and worked the panties down. In a moment, they fell to her ankles, leaving a bushy landing strip of black pubic hair visible between the tops of her luscious thighs. She was afraid that Robert would leave her standing like that for a long time, to take in the sight of her naked vagina, but fortunately he waited for only a second before patting his thigh, signaling her to bend over his knees.

Robert placed a hand on her lower back and helped ease Rose down into position (she resisted for a moment, but soon gave in and allowed him to position her as he wished). Her hands were touching the carpet on one side of the armless chair, her feet planted on the other, which placed her ass right across Robert Kinsley’s lap. It was truly a marvelous ass; each cheek just perfectly high and large enough to be grabbed or squeezed by a male hand. Robert didn’t grab or squeeze it, though. Instead, he rested one hand on the small of her back and let the other rest, very lightly, on her left buttock.

“Warm ups consist of twenty slaps with my open palm,” said Robert, “this will precede the implement testing.”

“Uh…do you have to?” Asked Rose, looking desperately up at her captor, full, African lips almost trembling, “I mean, you could just give me my fifty with the brush and-”

The clerk winced. The other two women shook their heads knowingly.

“Believe me, Miss Jackson, the warm up is for your benefit, not mine. Without desensitizing the tissues and amplifying the blood flow beforehand, the hairbrush could do serious damage.”

“Okay…just don‘t be too hard, alright?”

He shook his head. “I‘m sorry, but this department is responsible for quality assurance. You‘ll receive the full treatment; that‘s why you‘re here.”

In truth, he was indeed letting her off light. Rose was a big, athletic woman, with quite a well-padded seat, all qualities that spoke to her endurance. Normally, he would have selected her for one of the heavier brushes. The only reason she was getting the smallest one was because it was her first time. He wasn’t making any more allowances for her than that.

“Are you ready, Miss Jackson?”

She squeezed her eyes shut and nodded yes (what else could she do at this point?). Across the room, the other two girls watched carefully.

Robert raised his hand to shoulder height and brought it down with a wristy flick against her left buttock. Rose let out a little “mm!” when it hit, but actually it wasn’t nearly as hard as she had expected. Just a sharp little snap against her ass, making her left cheek jiggle and bounce for a second. The next slap was very much like it, and landed on the opposite cheek. Rose let herself relax. Okay, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

Robert alternated cheeks, spanking Rose with a steady, not-too-fast not-too-slow drumbeat. That fleshy mountain of a bottom jiggled and swayed, each cheek wobbling playfully under his palm. Rose’s body was actually squirming a tiny bit on its own, making itself more comfortable; she wasn’t disliking this at all!

After twenty fleshy smacks, he let his hand rest once again on her warm flank. He waited for perhaps fifteen seconds, studying the subtle, pinkish flush that had built up under her rich, brown skin.

“Can I get up now?” She asked.

Robert chuckled. It was a nice, comforting chuckle, really, but it carried some rather fearful connotations in her mind.

“Stay in position, Miss Jackson. We haven‘t even started the test!”

“Okay,” she said, trying to keep her body relaxed. There was a low, burning sting in her buttocks, but it wasn’t anywhere near unmanageable. Honestly, she almost thought she enjoyed it! Her peace of mind ended when she felt the cold wood being rubbed softly against her flesh, and realized how much harder than Robert’s hand it was.

“Um…wait…no, I think I-”

SPLAT!

“Owwwww!!!!”

The hairbrush has nothing like Robert’s hand. It felt like an honest-to-god weapon, and one covered in fire ants at that! Immediately, she tried to push herself up off Robert’s lap, but he pressed his left hand down into her back and held her fast.

SPLAT!

She hadn’t finished recovering from the shock of the first hit when the second bit her other cheek. She tried to say something, but the third stroke interrupted her by forcing another “Yeow!!!” to take its place.

Robert applied the hairbrush to Rose’s backside with the same cadence and swishing, wrist-snapping motions that he had used with his hand…only now he was employing much more of his strength. With each crack, one of her large buttocks would flatten under the brush before wobbling and jiggling around to shake off the force. She started to really struggle, scissoring her legs and twitching her torso like a snake, but Robert’s grip was inescapable.

“The test lasts for fifty swats, Miss Jackson,” he said sternly, arm still rising and falling about once every two seconds, “that means you will…stay…in…place.”

The last three words were each accompanied by an extra hard, extra fast smack, crashing into her round booty cheeks like a jackhammer. She was yelping and twitching with each impact. Her bottom’s pinkish hue had grown in intensity; there were now two dark red spank spots on her otherwise brown rear.

After twenty licks, Robert stopped for a moment. Rose, thinking she had a chance to escape, tried to roll herself off of his lap, but he was expecting it. Grabbing her body with both arms, he suddenly pulled his right leg out from under her and brought it down on top of her thighs, clamping her in place between his legs.

“What the….what are you doing???”

“I‘m keeping you in place. There‘s no way I can aim properly with you squirming like that.”

Her backside was now framed between his hand on her lower back, and his thigh, holding the two, throbbing mounds implacably in place. He lined up the hairbrush and picked up right where he had left off.

SPLAT! SMACK! WHACK! WHACK! SMACK!

The clerk was furiously writing down notes. Rose yelped and cried out and flailed her arms and lower legs furiously, but there was nothing she could do to even remotely improve the situation. Her buttocks were dancing under the hairbrush, jiggling like two bowls of jello-strawberry jello-on a shaking table. Jolene made a little humming sound as she watched her newest coworker take her medicine, noting that Robert was in no mood for shenanigans today. Anna let a hand creep down to her inner thigh…watching Robert turn Rose’s black ass scarlet was causing a familiar itch down bellow, even though Rose was clearly in great pain.

Finally, with two extra loud and slow SPLATS! On either side, Robert put down the hairbrush and raised his leg, letting Rose scramble off of him. She wobbled to her feet and grabbed her big, perky bottom in both hands, hissing in pain as she rubbed it in a futile attempt to mitigate the sting. She was grimacing.

“How do you feel, Miss Jackson?”

“OW! How the fuck do you THINK I feel, JERK?!?!?”

She hopped up and down a little, causing her rotund buttocks to bounce and wobble under her hands. They really were red, and looked quite aggravated. Not really swollen, though.

“I feel like…agghh…bugs biting me…like I got hornets all over my ass, and they keep stinging! Ouch!”

“Understood. Do you feel any deeper trauma or bruising?”

“Ahh…I…I don‘t think so, just the sting. Why, does that mean you have to finish the job now? Ow!”

Robert turned to the clerk. “High sting factor, no reported thud. No visible or tactile signs of bruising or sub-cutaneous tissue trauma.”

“Right,” said the clerk, “seems promising. Someone at RnD will be getting a raise.”

Robert addressed Rose, who was trying to work her panties back over her reddened, tender derriere. It wasn’t easy; due to the prominent shape of her ass, she had to stretch her panties tightly to get them around her hips, and that was now a painful prospect.

“Stand in the corner, Rose. When the testing is done you and the others will be provided aftercare.”

Rose hobbled over to the corner, panties halfway up her juicy thighs, both hands still rubbing her ass. Robert and the clerk both watched her naked, well-spanked rear as she walked; it had a way of bouncing heavily with each step.

“Next will be Miss Marensky, with the HB23 model.”

Jolene stepped forward.

“So,” she said, “tire yourself out on Rose? Or are you just getting warmed up?”

Robert smiled a little.

“Bend over, Jolene.”

She pouted at him.

“Okay, fine, don‘t answer me.” She laid herself across his lap and pulled her body forward, sticking her voluptuous backside right in his face. “Its not like it can be as bad as last time, you brute.”

Meanwhile, Rose (who had given up trying to pull up her panties) was watching intently over her shoulder, unable to take her eyes off of what was going to happen next. Anna, for her part, was eyeing the long-handled bath brush with a sinking feeling in her stomach; she knew she was really in for it now.

“We‘ll only know after the fact,” said Robert, helping her into the right position. Jolene had a fat ass; there was no better way to say it. It didn’t sag or droop (okay, maybe just a tiny bit), but there was a lot of it. She was also fair skinned; her big, pale bottom would show the results of Robert’s abuse much more clearly than Rose’s.

He began spanking her with his palm, much as he had done with Rose. Jolene’s butt was wider and jigglier than Rose’s, even if it didn’t stick out quite as far. With each crisp slap, the dimply flesh would ripple and rebound delightfully. She let out a cute little gasp or “ooh” each time he connected, occasionally seeming to lift her hips a few inches as if to welcome the next smack. More than once, he had to use his left hand to push her back down against his knees to make sure he had enough room to swing. Slowly, each subtle, rosy handprint built on the ones beneath it, giving rise to a soft, glowing pink hue in the fattiest part of each buttock.

“That‘s the end of your warm-up,” he said, letting his hand rest against her juicy rear for a moment before reaching for the brush.

“Ohhh,” she moaned, “I was just getting into it. Couldn’t you go a little longer this time?”

She wiggled her butt, letting the wide, bouncy cheeks sway back and forth before his face. He smiled and shook his head...the little minx was trying to postpone the inevitable.

“You know I would love to,” he said, “but company policy mandates twenty licks, no more no less. Perhaps after hours sometime.”

She stopped jiggling her assets and looked petulant. “Fine,” she said, sticking out her lower lip and looking back down at the carpet, “meanie.”

He picked up HB23 and hefted it in his hand again. The back of this hairbrush was intriguing; almost club-like, instead of the usual flat surface. Once again, he studied the narrow part of the handle where it connected to the paddle. It looked a little too thin to be trusted, but there was only one way to know for sure.

He placed the back of the brush against the fatty underside of Jolene’s ass and rubbed it in a wide circle. She inhaled softly, savoring the coolness of the wood before what was to come. In a moment, Robert tightened his left hand’s grip on her back, raised the big hairbrush to shoulder height, and-

SMACK!!!!

It wasn’t as loud as the first hairbrush, but it fell with much greater force. Jolene’s left cheek exploded out around the impact, waves of tender flesh rippling out away from the hit.

“WOW! OH! OH!”

She jerked her body abruptly, clearly unprepared for the pain. Robert did not break pace. He lifted the brush again, revealing an angry red spot where it had hit the first time, and delivered an identical swat to the opposite cheek.

WACK!

She wasn’t teasing or egging him on any more. Her body scissored and shook under his relentless assault, locks of light brown hair flying as she looked over one shoulder after the other, trying to see what he was doing to cause such unimaginable pain. WACK! SMACK! THWACK! Every second, like clockwork. Patches of deep, fiery red piled up on top of each other, getting darker and more inflamed with each swat. WACK! CRACK! CRACK! Her corpulent buttocks were getting visibly swollen, exaggerating their already very prominent jiggle whenever the brush landed. WHACK! WAP!

“OOOH!! OW! NO! NO! OWW! PLEASE!”

The wood kept raining down on her plentiful ass. For well over two minutes, there wasn’t a sound in the room but the understated WAP of the brush and Jolene’s resulting shrieks. Rose, Anna, and even the clerk watched in mute shock. How long could this continue?

WACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMA-

The brush came down for the thirty-ninth stroke, and Robert’s hand continued past Jolene’s ass, handle still clutched in his fist. The blade of the hairbrush, however, went spinning through the air, landing heavily on the carpet at his feet.

Jolene, squinting through her teary eyes, looked up over her shoulder, raising her torso a bit to see what had happened. Robert held the broken handle in front of his face, scowling.

“I suspected it.”

The clerk stepped forward, picking up the bristled paddle-blade and holding it out next to the handle.

“Too thin right at the hilt,” the clerk shook his head, “well that‘s just a bugger.”

Jolene looked relieved. Wincing, she eased herself off of Robert’s lap, both hands clasping her thoroughly punished bum. The entire lower surfaces of her butt cheeks were a dark, angry red, and a pair of small bruises had appeared on her sit spots, where the thickest part of the rounded brush had connected the most times.

“Whose design was 23?” Asked Robert.

“That‘d be Debbie, the new girl in RnD.”

“I see. We‘ll be sure to give her a stern talking to once the report has been made.” He looked up at Jolene, who was bouncing from foot to foot as she rubbed furiously at her bruised ass (her large breasts bounced cutely under her shirt as she did this, but that‘s not really relevant to this account. Just figured you might want to know).

“We‘ll salvage what data we can from this trial, though. Miss Marensky?”

“Ow…it…” she wiped her eyes before quickly returning that hand to her backside, “it hurts. Deep. Almost like…like a big paddle, sort of. Ow, I think I‘m bruised!”

Robert patted her reassuringly on the rump. She managed to smile a tiny bit through her pained grimace, a little of her former, vixenly self coming back.

“Thank you. You can wait in the corner with Rose until the last trial is over.”

Jolene hotfooted it to the corner, her hands not able to cover her wide, swaying rear cheeks as she stepped. She had left her panties on the carpet, where she had accidentally kicked them off toward the end of her paddling. The clerk picked them up and placed them on the desk, where she could retrieve them later. As the two stood next to each other, rubbing their sore fannies, there was a noticeable gleam between both of their legs, as if the fluorescent light was shining off something wet. Robert couldn’t blame them; after all, his own underpants weren’t exactly crispy-dry at this point either. Eh, one of the perks of the job.

“Its your turn now, Miss Mandirez.”

Anna tiptoed up to Robert’s chair, her face a picture of youthful anxiety. She had seen what that second hairbrush did to her friend’s behind. BB05 wasn’t rounded like that hairbrush, or quite as thick, but with that long handle and shiny varnish she knew it would more than make up for that. How long would it be until she could sit after this? As she walked forward to her fate, she felt a warm dampness between her upper thighs. Watching Robert Kinsley’s masterful work had excited her, even if she dreaded what was to come. It was that damned British accent of his, wasn’t it? Or maybe just that infuriatingly self-assured tone of voice when he said “Miss Mandirez.” Whatever the case, she was a mess of fear and excitement by the time she had placed her slim, violin-shaped self over Mr. Kinsley’s lap.

“I‘m ready to begin as soon as you are, Anna.”

As he spoke, he slid his fingers under the hem of her panties and pulled them down to her thighs. This took him a moment or two; even for Robert’s agile fingers, there was a lot of very tight ground to cover here. There was a reason Anna favored skirts and dresses rather than jeans; for a woman with her figure, they were just a pain to get on and off.

“Well, I am in position,” she said. She planted her hands firmly on the carpet, letting her heavy, pendulous breasts hang down beneath her chest. The clerk could see down her collar. Oh well, it wasn’t as if he wouldn’t get an eyeful one way or another.

“Nothing to wait for, then,” said Robert. He began his third preparatory spanking of the day.

Anna offered such a target that a less experienced spanker probably wouldn’t know where to start. Her rear cheeks stuck out behind her in blatant defiance of gravity, nearly as thick as they were wide (and she had some wide hips). Robert lined up his hand with the tall, underside surface of each one and let fly, letting his hand connect heavily with each swing. SMACK! SMACK! Her cheeks bounced and shook, but they didn’t really jiggle. He decided that she would need a slightly more intense warm-up session to prepare all that ass, and so he stepped up the pace.

SMACK! SMACK! She was breathing in little gasps, keeping her legs a few inches apart to give him access to the deep, plummeting cleft between her cheeks. He had such big, hard, flexible hands; he had only given her ten slaps, and already there was a tingling burn throughout her situpon. She let out a soft “mmmm” as he slapped her again and again. She hoped this would do the job of preparing her; she most certainly did not want to be unready when the bath brush came out.

SMACK! SLAP!

All too soon, the hand spanking was done. Robert had gone a bit harder toward the end of it than he usually did, but she still wasn’t in much discomfort. She grimaced and sucked in a deep breath as she felt the long, stiff paddle blade line up against her rump, just above the crease where buttock met thigh. Ohdamn, this brush was a hard one.

Before he began, Robert turned the brush over and gently ran the soft, nylon bristles over Anna’s cheeks. She purred in surprised pleasure; that tickled!

“Bristles are useful. Write that down. Now on to the wood.”

As two well-spanked ladies and one inwardly gleeful clerk looked on, Robert raised the bath brush and whipped it down into the underside of Anna’s massive tush. CLAAP!!! This one was easily the loudest and most dramatic of the three. Anna inhaled long and hard, gasping in pain as he flicked the bath brush up again. SPLAAAP!!! Her other tan, jutting mound bounced under the fiery onslaught. She let out an “Ahh!” and her body gave an involuntary jerk.

Robert Kinsley had no mercy. He wielded the wooden bath brush just as hard and fast as the other two, smacking those mammoth cheeks with all the gusto his arm could provide. SMAAACK!!! SPLAAT!!! SMAAACK!!! Anna wasn’t making much noise yet, but he knew this would change. He would make it change. The experience of spanking Anna was having a mental effect on him. Those proud, full-of-themselves cheeks! How could they possibly be that damned thick! He had to teach them a lesson. Beat them back down into submission. Anna’s was an ass that demanded punishment, and lots of it! Despite his professional calm, he found himself swinging the paddle faster, giving it to her harder than he had Rose or Jolene. At the seventh SPLAAT!!! Anna finally “AWWW’”d. At the tenth, she was writhing and squirming over his lap just like the other two.

SMAAACK!!! SMAAACK!!! SMAAACK!!! SMAAACK!!! SMAAACK!!! SMAAACK!!! SMAAACK!!! SMAAACK!!! SMAAACK!!! SMAAACK!!! SMAAACK!!! SMAAACK!!! SMAAACK!!! SMAAACK!!! SMAAACK!!!

He was halfway done. Her mountain-like buttocks were already a dark, injured crimson, and wobbling and swaying like fat, rubber balls. Not enough, damnit, not enough! He kept a calm face, but his eyes were burning. What an ass! If Anna were to stand straight and clench her glutes, she could literally balance a coffee cup on it. Was the brush even getting through all that armor? He would make sure it did.

“AAAAAH! AHHHH!! OHHH!! NOO-AAAAAHHHH!!!!”

Her hourglass-shaped body was thrashing and struggling now. He dug his left forearm into her back and leaned in, confining her frenetic, bare-butted lap dance to its current locale. SNAAAAP!!!!! CRAAACK!!!! SPLAAACK!!!! SNAAAPP!!!! “”OH! OW! AHH! HELP!!!!” However-and this is a testament to Anna's resolve-she didn't try to roll off of his lap the way Rose had.

Rose and Jolene watched in stunned amazement as Robert did his job. He was in the zone. His deep, dark eyes were full of masculine intensity. Under his trim office suit, his muscles had grown taught. The clerk was scribbling furiously in his notebook, clearly struggling to keep up with the action.

Screams, cries, wails, and the relentless crack of the bath brush filled the air for several minutes. Anna was aware of nothing besides the paddling. She was struggling mindlessly, kicking, screaming, flailing her limbs like an animal in a trap. When the fiftieth lick landed and Robert lifted his imprisoning arm, she rolled off his lap onto the floor, seizing her rump with both hands and kicking her feet like a rabbit.

Rose looked at Jolene, clearly horrified. Jolene just gave her a “well, you should have known what to expect” look in return, though in truth even she was pretty cowed by this last display. She felt herself getting weak in the knees, but kept position in the corner.

“Anna?” Robert got out of his chair and knelt over his victim’s twitching body. “Anna, are you alright?”

She looked up at him through a face blotchy with tears. She tried to say something, but all that came out was a sob.

“Please, Anna, can you-”

Before he could finish his sentence, she lunged to her feet, grabbed him around the shoulders, and forced her tongue into his mouth.

Robert was too stunned to react, at first, which allowed her to French kiss him for a good two seconds or so. When he managed to remember himself, he put his hands on her shoulders and gently, deliberately, pushed her back to arms length away.

“Anna, please, we‘re on the job.”

Reluctantly, she complied with his protest, letting her arms leave his shoulders and return to her blistered rear. Her backside was purple. Not red. Dark, thoroughly, and utterly punished purple, and swollen to even larger than its usual size. As she backed off, it also became clear that her female spot was completely slick.

“So,” said the clerk, “I…uh…I guess BB05 is a success?”

Anna turned to him and nodded energetically, using one hand to wipe away her tears while the other remained clamped over her burning ass.

“Well then,” said Robert, his voice slightly hoarse, “you three can go on to aftercare. I know you could use it.”

The clerk opened another door, revealing a room that looked like a spa. There were two, rather handsome young massage therapists waiting, both with bottles of cold cream and aloe vera . Rose and Jolene didn’t have to be told twice. They marched into the aftercare room (Rose had gotten her panties back on by now, Jolene was still naked from the waist down). Anna, however, did not follow them.

“*sniff*…Sir?”

“Yes?”

“Would…*sob*…is it okay if…*sniff*…you give me the cold cream this time?”

He put his hand on her arm, looking caringly into her bleary, hazel eyes.

“I have to finish my report before I can do anything else. Do you think you can wait for ten minutes?”

Anna nodded.

“Alright. Wait in my office.”

As she left the room, the two men sat down at the desk and worked out the details of their quality-assurance report.

“So that‘s maximum ratings for hair 22 and bath 5, but an ixnae for now on 23.” The clerk checked the boxes as Robert summarized the medical and emotional effects of each implement at the bottom of the sheet.

“That‘s certainly my assessment.”

“Aight.”

They finished the report, and the clerk tucked the papers away into his briefcase.

“You know Bob,” he said, “I can‘t help but wonder. What if someone actually wants to brush their hair with these?”

For a moment, there was silence. Then…

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!”

They both laughed uproariously, wiping tears of merriment from their eyes. The clerk had really had him there for a second!

The Vermont Country Store would stay in business for a long time yet.