Backfire: Halloween Metafiction Special

This was meant to be a lighthearted halloween mind-bender using the characters from Backfire. It...um...kind of ran away with itself...

Neither of the girls had expected the party to be quite like this. Sure, it had been made clear that illicit substances would be present, and neither of them had a problem with that (Sara was a habitual pot smoker. April just liked to party, whatever that entailed by local customs), but this was a step beyond what either of them were used to. So, April thought as she looked around at the bearded, strangely dressed young men and women, this is what actual hippies look like. Wow, its just like on TV! The novelty was a pleasant distraction for April, but in the back of her mind she was still dreading the end of their girls’ night out. She kept giving Sara nervous glances when she thought she wasn’t looking.

Sara kept her cool smile on; with her long, straight hair and inexpensive clothing, she fit in with this crowd much better than April. A couple of people smiled and waved Sara over to them.

“I’m gonna’ go talk to Matty,” Sara said to her roommate, her voice taking on that subtly domineering tone that April had grown accustomed to, “don’t get yourself in more trouble than you’re already in.”

A shiver of fear went down April’s spine, even as a naughty tingle rose from her crotch. She met Sara’s eyes, which - as always these days - seemed to take her in and engulf her. April nodded obediently. Sara smiled and gave April’s miniskirted bottom a stealthy pinch, making her whisper a quiet “ow!” before turning away to talk to Matty. 

April stared after her for a moment, wondering how and why she had let her life get like this. If her parents knew half of what had been going on, she’d never be able to look either of them in the face again. She watched Sara talk to Matty for a moment, until Sara looked back over her shoulder and gave April a perfectly innocent smile. A smile that said nothing unusual to the rest of the room, but reminded April that tonight was going to be a hairbrush night, and not a short one either.

Fortunately, there were plenty of distractions, and April was resolved to take her mind off the cruel fate of her helpless buttocks while she still had that luxury. She met Lindsey at the makeshift bar and traded sorority gossip while helping herself to a rum and coke. The two of them giggled and gossiped away until Nancy showed up, and they went into the back room to play beer pong. After gracefully losing, the now very lightheaded April found herself introduced to a trio of hippies. She chatted energetically, positioning herself as best she could in her drunken state to show off her outrageously curvy figure; she had no intentions of betraying her boyfriend, but one of the hippies was really cute, which made her body language mostly involuntary.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” She paused to hiccup. “I have to walk home tonight.”

“Do’ worry, hon,” the bearded fellow reassured her as he carefully - almost reverently - fished the bits of dried fungus out of the plastic bag, “nothing bad happens from this.”

“Yeah,” his fellow backed him up, “this isn’t just the usual magic mushroom. Its sacred to the Plains Indians.”

April raised her blonde eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yeah,” said the first hippy, “it lets you connect to the spirits, opens your mind to the real world behind the universe. The shamans and medicine men say they use it to talk to God.”

April still wasn’t convinced that this was the best time and place to be experimenting with strange drugs, no matter their religious value. Unfortunately, she had always been sensitive to peer pressure, especially when it came from sexy boys. After rewarding her benefactor with an alluring smile, she accepted the fragment and bit off one end.

She felt the same, after swallowing the fungus. A bit drunker, perhaps, as if she hadn’t noticed how strong her intoxication was until now, but still no worse for wear. The boys congratulated her, nibbling their own dried fungus as they did. Funny…why couldn’t she hear what they were saying? It was like their mouths didn’t emit any sound. In fact, nothing was making sound. Her ears seemed to have switched themselves off.

She lay back against the wall they were sitting by, staring, wide-eyed, into the next room. She caught a glimpse of Sara at the bar, and suddenly, impossibly, she heard Sara’s voice from across the silent, crowded party, even if the words she said didn’t make sense. Her vision was blurring at the edges, her body growing weightless…

…

…April was in an unfamiliar room. Piles of clumsily-folded clothes (boy’s clothes, she observed) were scattered across a futon couch. On the wall by the door hung a variety of abstract sketches in cheap frames, a pre-revolution Iranian flag, and a preserved tarantula in a display case. Outside the window, snow descended on a rural street.

She blinked, quite deliberately. She knew there had to be a reason she was in this place, but she couldn’t for the life of her remember how she had arrived. Wasn’t there a party she was going to with Sara tonight? Or was that last night now? She tried to remember, but it was like tossing her mind against a solid fog. Holy mushrooms. The Plains Indians used them to talk to the spirits. Who had told her that? Well, they must not have worked, because she didn’t recall talking to any stupid ghosts.

Something bumped its nose against her ankle. Startling a bit, April looked down to see a stripey gray cat rubbing up on her leg. Was this her spirit animal? She guessed that shouldn’t be a surprise; she had a cat of her own after all, even if she hadn’t seen it since winter vacation. It was a different color, sure, but who said her spirit cat had to look anything like Nutmeg? The cat looked up at her with an inquiring expression. April transferred the mushroom slice to her left hand and bent down to let it sniff her fingertip. “Hello, kitty,” she said softly.

“What???” a male voice spoke up behind her, startling her, “Who’s there???”

Right, of course. When you’re in a new place, you look around before picking up the cat. Everyone knows that. Mushrooms let you talk to gods. She turned to face the voice. A bunkbed was nestled in the back of the small bedroom, and sitting on the unmade bottom bunk was a young man around April’s age. Fair skin, brown hair, maybe kind of cute if he had a shave. On the bed beside him was a half-open Gateway laptop. His expression was angry. “What the hell are you doing in my room?”

April’s lips opened soundlessly as she tried to answer. Should she apologize and leave? No, she’d still be in someone else’s house with no idea how to find her way home. What was she supposed to say?

“S-sorry,” she managed to squeak, “I…I don’t know where I…is the party still going on?”

The boy looked startled. For a moment, he seemed downright stupefied. Slowly, he raised a dark brown eyebrow. “Party?” He asked, his voice more subdued, “What are you talking about?”

“Well,” April took a step back toward the futon, not keeping eye contact, “I was at a party with my friend Sara…do you know Sara?…and I just…I don’t know how I got here, but I’m sorry for coming in without asking.”

As she spoke, his expression grew less defensive and more surprised. When she mentioned Sara, his eyes widened. There was a long, awkward moment after she finished. April was about to apologize again and ask for directions when he spoke.

“Oh no,” he whispered, “No, this can‘t possibly...”

…

His jaw went slack as the realization hit. Was he hallucinating? Dreaming? How could this possibly be happening? She looked exactly how he had imagined, wearing one of the expensive blouse and miniskirt combos that the richer girls at his college had worn. No, it couldn’t be, it just couldn’t.

“Um…” he said, wondering what his next question would have to be if she said yes, “…is your name April?”

The girl nodded, her eyes widening a little, vulnerable. He felt his heart accelerate. Her eyes got so large and blue when she felt nervous or embarrassed. He thought it was sexy, in the “cute and innocent” way, which was exactly why he had made them that way. He counted backward from ten, then ran through the alphabet from Z to V. If he was dreaming, it was an awfully lucid dream. The girl stood there nervously, in obvious discomfort. He had to tell her something, but would the truth be the best option?

“Um. Well.” 

He stopped to close his laptop. It really would not do for her to see what he was writing.

“I‘m not sure how to say this, but…uh…”

This is your last chance. You can make up a lie, that would probably be the best-

“…well, I guess from you’re perspective, I’m sort of like…”

NO DO NOT USE THAT WORD.

He changed his wording at the last second “…your creator?”

He had meant it as an explanation, but the way it came out definitely had a question mark at the end. Silence. He was about to offer her a seat, but she sat down on the futon before he could open his mouth. She looked as bewildered as he probably did.

“You mean,” she looked at him very intently, a mixture between skepticism, fear, and awe, “you mean you’re, like…God?”

DAMNIT.

“No,” he said quickly, raising both hands in a “no” kind of way, “Not like a God. Just…” Just the creator and constant omnipotent manipulator of your entire universe. Just the being responsible for thinking you into existence. “…okay, maybe sort of like a God, but I’m not all-knowing or powerful” just powerful enough to completely remake your world on a whim “or anything. I…basically I’m just a kid living in a world a lot like yours, and I made you up.”

She gave a nervous, unbelieving chuckle. Her laugh was musical, lighting a masculine fire in his blood. That sound was the guiltiest pleasure he had ever enjoyed. “What do you mean?” she asked crinkling her dirty blonde eyebrows at him.

He bought himself some time by standing up and very deliberately unwrinkling his shorts. This was going to be a hard pill to swallow. It was hard for him to even say it.

“Okay, well, I’m a writer. I write fiction, or what I thought was fiction.” He paused, asking himself again why he was telling her this. Unfortunately, April’s wasn’t a face he could lie to, though it might damn them both. “You‘re a character from one of my stories.”

He scanned April’s face for any signs of…well, anything. It was unreadable. Queeny jumped up on the futon and put her nose up to April’s thigh. April ignored the cat. He started feeling sick to his stomach. He knew where this line of questioning would go. He knew that she couldn’t learn the truth, and he knew that he didn’t have it in him to lie.

“Oh…huh.”

She looked down at her lap for a moment, trying to let it sink in. He watched her reach over and stroke Queeny’s head, her eyes lost in contemplation. He felt like he was about to throw up.

“Am I the main character?”

He looked away. “Yes.”

“Is…is my world real? Like, are the people I know actually…?”

“I don’t know.” That was something he hadn’t thought of, actually. If April was a self-aware entity, did that mean that her entire fictional world was full of self-aware entities? If she was only sentient because of the mental energy he expended in simulating her mind, though, that would mean that only a few of the main characters - the ones he’d really put himself into - were alive. He thought of a girl living an entire lifetime in a world of holograms, being raised by a simulation of a loving family who didn’t actually have souls, and it was one of the most heartbreaking thoughts he had ever had. And what about when I’m not thinking about her? Is she “asleep” when I’m not in her head? Does she DIE every time I delete a new draft and start again? What about Sara, or Kevin, or any of the others? How many of them are real?

She chewed her lip in that completely adorable way she often did. “You don’t know? Didn’t you make them?”

A slow breath escaped between his teeth. “Yes. Sort of. I don’t have everything fleshed out, necessarily,” I spent more time thinking about your ass than the rest of that universe combined “I just assumed that your world was mostly like mine and made up a few specific characters.” He shrugged in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. “I dunno, maybe its all real outside of my head. You seem to be, right now at least.”

“So,” she said slowly, trying to wrap her mind around it, “you’ve been…writing me…since I was born?”

Fuck. “No. I only made up a little about your childhood. Just that your parents were wealthy, and that you were an only child. I guess I imagined them having kind of Germanic sounding names, like Martin or Ella?”

April nodded. “Those are my parents.”

Interesting. Were those always your parents, or did I just now do that retroactively? How much of you is there, really? 

He hoped he could change the subject, but she was too fast for him. “So wait…does that mean I’m the most important person in the world-err-in my world, I mean?”

He couldn’t tell if she was hopeful, or afraid. Probably the latter. He didn’t think he could conceive of a realistic character who wouldn’t be frightened by that, and that meant she must be frightened. “I don’t know. If I actually did invent your world when I made it up, then yes, that would…I suppose…make you the center of it.” He was about to offer up the possibility that maybe he didn’t invent her world, but instead was simply being informed about its events through some kind of prophecy, but he only had to think about that for a fraction of a second before it lost its plausibility. Her body was shaped just like a girl he had failed to seduce once in school. She and her friends watched Dexter religiously because it was his favorite show. He had definitely created this. 

He answered very slowly, thinking about every word. “If we’re basing importance off of…” he paused, struggling for the right word. His vocabulary always failed him when he most needed it, “…causation, then yes, the rest of your world exists to tell your story.” He was careful to keep eye contact, so she knew this next part was genuine. “That‘s not to say that other people in your world are necessarily worth more or less, just that you‘re…um…” damnit, it was much easier to express these concepts in writing than in conversation “…well, I…you know what I mean, right?”

April did not seem to know what he meant. On second thoughts, neither did he.

Her hand stroked the cat again, absentmindedly. Her eyes were far away, almost vacant. He realized that this wasn’t as easy for her as it would be for some people; he hadn’t designed her to be intelligent or quick-witted.

“So,” she said, her blue eyes coming a little ways back into focus on his, “if everything is just to tell my story…what is the story about? What am I supposed to do?”

He bit his lip. April stared at him, bewilderment turning to impatience, and trepidation. Beneath her soft, fair-skinned face, a brain was waiting to process information. He put a hand to his stomach, trying not to be sick. She was waiting.

“Okay,” he said, “basically…”

…

He sat beside the crying girl, staring at his hands in dismay. What could he say to her? What could he do for her? Instinct told him that she needed a hug, but that would be the worst thing he could do. He kept his body a respectful two feet away from hers, and made absolute sure not to glance below her neck, even by accident.

“I made you enjoy it,” he said so quietly it was almost a whisper. “I made sure you didn’t suffer.” That wasn’t entirely true, though. The first chapter had consisted of nothing but misfortune and humiliation for her. The sorority scene in chapter three had also been completely unpleasant. Even if that wasn’t the case, though, it would barely have helped.

The more painful bits of the last fifteen minute's worth of conversation replayed in his head. “Why did I never have a baby brother?” she had asked. To make you more spoiled and self-centered, so that Sara would have more to punish you for. “Why did you make me want a baby brother if you knew I couldn’t get one, and the story doesn’t even show my family?” Because I imagined caring as one of your redeeming qualities, and I always put a bit of thought into what makes my characters tick even if it isn’t apparent to the reader. “Its all just your stupid fantasy?” No, I put it up on the internet for a bunch of other people to jerk off to as well. The interview had lasted until she finally did what she had been threatening and broke down into tears. He felt a sharp sting at the corner of his own eyes as he watched her.

“Y-you said…” she struggled between sobs, “…you said you made me like a…” she wiped her nose, only for more saltwater to drip down it, “…a real girl, who you know? So I’m not…not just a…a…”

“You’re not her,” he said somberly, sitting with his hands in front of him, “she’s not you. Her name was Katie. I knew her in college.” He didn’t tell her the rest of that story, which would have gone something like; she was smarter, more confident, and more emotionally mature than you. I just used her body and gave it a weak, spoiled, co-dependent personality named April so that it could get spanked more often. 

She shook her tangled blonde head, her tears continuing. He wondered if the holocaust had happened in her world, or smallpox, or malaria. Considering that she lived in a twenty-first century United States very much like his own, her world probably had the same history. If April and the other main characters weren’t the only sentient beings in their universe, he had condemned hundreds of millions - no, billions - of people to death.

“I’m sorry,” he said for the hundredth time, looking down at her huddled, shaking body, “I didn’t know. I just never knew.”

Queeny was still perched on the edge of the couch, wondering why nobody was petting her. She had tried sniffing at the half-eaten mushroom slice that April dropped, but he quickly snatched it away; there was no telling what that could do. Minutes flowed into one another. He wondered how long it would be until his brother came home, and what he would have to say if April was still around. Not that this was a significant problem at all, compared to the others on his mind.

“I’ll change things,” he said. “Once I send you back, I’ll make it different. You won’t remember this conversation.”

She looked up hopefully, her normally beautiful face blotchy with tears. He did his best to look confident.

“You‘ll be smart, and powerful, and happy. So will everyone else. No one will get hurt or disappoint themselves or anything.”

Of course, that would only work if the act of writing itself was what caused time to pass in her world, rather than him imagining it. He would never be able to stop his own imagination. Not to mention that rewriting her character might just kill April and replace her with another consciousness with the same name. It was the most comforting lie he could think of.

“Send me back,” she whispered, “make me forget. Please.”

He stumbled to his feet and hurried over to his laptop. Hopefully this would work…

…

The young man sat on his bed, alone but for the cat. His brother came in, said hello, and left. The young man barely noticed him. He was thinking.

I’ve written science fiction. Horror. I’ve had entire civilizations destroyed. I’ve turned people into tormented ghosts and marauding vampires. I gave terminal brain damage to ten thousand people when the cyborgs poisoned the Washington DC water supply. I’ve created a entire world where people’s souls are eaten by demonic piranhas after they die. And even without his own devised horrors, how many holocausts had he unleashed in the invisible backstories? How many genocides? How many epidemics? How many deaths?

He let his chin sink into his hands. He ignored the bangs that hung in his eyes. They were insubstantial. It was the other side of his skull that had unsolvable problems.

What if its not just me? What if every writer creates worlds with people? What if every person with an imagination and two minutes of free time does?

Then another thought, so chilling it multiplied all the rest.

What about writers who write about writers?

No, he was just overthinking it now. There had to be limits to how far things could scale, in one direction if not both. There had to be a Real world that the others branched off from. There just had to be.

Suddenly, he was looking at a small object lying on the nightstand by the futon. A half-eaten slice of mushroom. April must have left it.

No. No, this wasn’t right. There was no reason to do this. He didn’t need to, he really didn’t.

The mushroom sat there.

What about writers who write about writers?

He felt cold and clammy as he picked up the little pinch of dried fungus and held it before his mouth. It smelled musty, with an undertone of something he couldn’t name. One side of it still showed the marks of April’s teeth, reminding him that even if she was back home, she was still real.

He gulped, sucked in a deep breath, and bit.

The walls fell away. The ceiling vanished. The bed turned to smoke, and he was falling, falling, tumbling through the blackness. But he wasn’t really falling. There was no gravity, he was floating in place. The darkness was as thick as blood, but he pushed through it. He had to see, had to find out.

And then he heard the screams. He turned around, and saw it.

A head, a face the size of a galaxy, the darkness flowed from its pores like sweat. A face that filled the sky, a face that filled all the skies, a head he couldn’t even see. A million, bloodshot eyes stared into the darkness, and in each eye a spinning world. Fire flashed, an eye blinked, and there were screams. Quadrillions of deaths in every one of a million eyes. Mouths ingested universes. Worlds died, to make room for more worlds, which died. The face sang and basked in the music of the endless screams.

…

A young man lay on the floor of his bedroom. A laptop sat on the bunk above him. A cat sniffed at his shivering face, but he didn't notice. He shuddered, his mouth barely managing to twitch open.

“Azatho…”

Backfire 3

Getting dressed up for tonight was a big job. So much so, in fact, that April had come home after class, wolfed down a quick dinner, threw her dishes in the sink, and then gone straight to the wardrobe.

“Are you sure I shouldn‘t put up my hair?”

From his seat in the living room, Kevin looked in the bathroom door. April, still wet from the shower, was holding out a strand of her dishwater blonde hair and looking at him inquiringly. Kevin chuckled.

“You know I like it down,” he repeated, “but if you think it’s not classy enough for Hell Night, I won’t pretend to know better.”

April scowled at him the way women often do when their boyfriends know what they are expected to say but refuse to do so. Kevin had called April’s cell phone a few minutes ago asking if he could come over. Deciding that she needed someone to help her make these important decisions, and that Sara was most likely not going to be home in time, she had said yes. Since he’d walked in the door, she’d had him sitting on the couch answering questions about her wardrobe as she bustled between the bedroom and the bathroom.

Kevin was rather amused by all this. He had tried rushing a fraternity last year, but quickly decided that the Greek scene was silly. Some people really got into it, though, and he had become increasingly aware that his girlfriend was one of these. Not that he minded sitting back and watching her shower and dress; a half-naked April was a delight to see under any circumstances, and being wet and in a hurry made her even easier on the eye.

April took out her comb and began to straighten her hair. Doing this meant putting down the bath towel and facing the mirror, which turned her back toward Kevin. As they nearly always did when he faced her from this angle, Kevin’s eyes went to her (currently naked and glistening) bottom. April was a short girl, but she was wide in the shoulder and wider in the hip, and the latter supported two of the most enviable buttocks on campus. It was one of the first things he had noticed about April when they met in class two months ago, and - despite her prominent chest and baby face - it was the first thing most men noticed about her. And, for the last four weeks, this backside had been the subject of considerable drama. If you don’t know the details, go back and read chapters one and two.

Finishing her hair, April went back to drying herself and - when this too was completed - putting on a fresh bra and panties. The conversation was limited to occasional questions and comments back and forth, with Kevin’s amusement gradually turning into annoyance. Was a sorority initiation really worth as much effort as a meeting with the President?

“I look fat in this, don’t I?”

Kevin rolled his eyes as she stepped out in her black cocktail dress. “Fat” was a touchy adjective in this case. Kevin’s 6’2’’ frame was rock hard and slender, honed by over a decade of sports enthusiasm. Running her hands over Kevin’s chocolaty brown skin and feeling the springy musculature of his pecs and abs was one of April’s favorite indoor pastimes, but her boyfriend’s magazine cover physique also made her somewhat insecure. April had been a few pounds overweight since she was a child. When she hit puberty, most of this adipose tissue had migrated to her breasts and buttocks, but there were still love handles and just a bit of a belly.

“Ape, you asked me that when we went to the club last week. Nothing’s changed.”

April pouted. “That’s not a straight answer.”

April was remembering why men were no good for this sort of thing. They just had no idea of when a girl looks good.

Kevin sighed again. “You look hot. Not fat.”

“Are you sure my tummy doesn’t stick out?”

Here, Kevin was at an impasse. The fact was, April’s stomach did curve outward just a bit, and that skintight black dress made it a bit more noticeable. It also made the rest of her anatomy more noticeable - which was a more than worthwhile tradeoff in Kevin’s opinion - but if he had to answer her question honestly, she wouldn’t like the answer. Goddamnit, April wasn’t normally this fussy with her clothes. She’s just being a pain.

Kevin got up from the bed and walked over beside April. She looked up at him, still impatient. He put a gentle hand on her side and said “Babe, you’re way too worried about this.”

April opened her mouth to retort, but this turned into a surprised squeal as Kevin grabbed her around the midsection and pulled her back toward the bed. Before she could even ask him what he was doing, he was sitting on the edge of the mattress, and April was lying across his lap.

“No, Kev, I don‘t have time! I need to finish-”

SLAP!!!

April’s complaints were cut off by a sharp “ooh!” as Kevin’s big hand cut into her right butt. The pain was sharp, hot, and immediate, and made her twitch her arms and legs.

“We can do this later tonight! Right no - OW! Not so hard!”

“I‘m helping you take your mind off things.”

As Kevin said this, he pushed his left forearm down across her black-clad back and began flicking his wrist harder as he brought his right arm up and down, landing his open palm against the underside of her buns in a series of sharp snaps. With her panties and cocktail dress on, April’s buttocks were well lifted above her thighs, making those sensitive, lower surfaces much easier to hit. The prominent mound shook and bounced with each slap; Kevin could just imagine the redness that must be spreading underneath. Normally, Kevin got April naked before he spanked her, so he could watch the splash and jiggle of her voluptuous flesh as he transferred energy into it. He missed that tonight, but the movements of the tight dress teased his imagination about the pain that was being suffered below.

“Ow! Ow! Please, not so-AHH!”

Kevin suddenly stepped up the pace, dribbling her big bottom as quickly as his basketball skills allowed. April felt her butt heating up and burning much more quickly than it usually did; her dress was holding in all the heat. Only thirty seconds or so in, and she already felt like the skin was coming off of her ass!

In what now seemed like a magical, far off time, April had been able to hang out in Kevin’s room to avoid the blistering punishments that her roommate was always finding excuses to dish out. That was before Kevin, too, had been shown the delights of spanking her poor butt until she couldn’t sit down. Nowadays, April’s buns weren’t safe anywhere. On one hand, Kevin’s spankings were usually a prelude to sex, of which April was fond. On the other, unlike Sara - who needed a reason to punish her unfortunate roommate - Kevin was prone to putting her over his knee without warning, just because he happened to feel like it. It was a tough decision, but April still found herself tending to spend more time in Kevin’s room than her own. At least Kevin didn’t use that awful hairbrush!

As Kevin continued the spanking at a lively pace. April’s gyrations and twitching ground her against his lap, which was answered by a hardening below. April could feel Kevin’s growing erection through the thin material of her dress. That jerk!

Kevin finally stopped the smacking, leaving his palm resting firmly on April’s tortured backside. She felt his fingers squeezing and kneading, as he enjoyed the heat her bottom was giving off. The pain extended beyond the skin he was fondling, through her ample buttocks and into the other side of her, where it stopped being pain and became simple heat. April was panting, her privates feeling very empty and in need of attention. She let Kevin rub a little of the sting out of her tush as she moaned softly. She wished she could be properly angry at Kevin for humiliating her like this, but her libido kept her hands helplessly tied in this matter. Such were the frustrations of love.

“Feel better now?” Kevin asked.

“No! Asshole!”

Kevin patted her bottom a couple of times before letting her up. Immediately, April put one hand on the seat of her dress and the other under it, clutching at her abused cheeks with both as she bounced a little on the heels of her feet. Her carefully brushed hair was disheveled, and her face was flushed. As she stood up, she felt her panties clinging wetly to her crotch. Ugh, not now!

“You’ve got ten minutes,” Kevin said, checking his watch.

Not looking at or speaking to Kevin, April redid her hair and put on some makeup. She was really regretting her tight choice of dress now; every step pulled the fabric against her butt cheeks, making them sting. And now she was all horny too! Kevin was such an insensitive prick sometimes.

“You had better not be asleep when I get back!” April ranted as she powdered her nose, giving Kevin a furious scowl over her shoulder.

“You’d better come straight to my room after your thing,” he replied, a mirthful smile on his face.

“Jerk.”

Finished at last, she looked at herself in the mirror one last time. She looked…well, she thought she looked decent enough. Like a young woman who could be taken seriously, even if she had to suck in her stomach a little bit. Not like a nervous girl who had just been spanked like a little kid and was now too hot and bothered to think clearly. Hopefully.

“See ya later, baby doll.”

She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him on the lips as they left the room.

“Fuck you.”

Kevin laughed as he went back to his single room and April trotted off to Sigma Phi Kappa house.

…

Lady GaGa was playing from someone’s iPod as the SPK sisters and pledges sat around the living room, chatting and cracking open a few cheap beers as they waited for everyone to arrive. Well, most of them were sitting. April had politely refused a seat.

“Think you’re ready for tonight?”

Courtney was sitting on the couch to April’s left, a Budweiser in her hand.

“I feel like I‘ve been ready for a month,” April replied to her Big Sister, leaning against the backrest of the couch in what she thought was a sophisticated and elegant pose, “I want to live here next year.”

Courtney chuckled. “Nervous at all?”

“Nope.”

For a moment, Courtney’s face wore a strange expression, a sort of “oh, if only you knew” look that made April’s already jumpy nerves twitch. April ran through everything in her head. She had memorized the Sigma Phi Kappa pledge and motto, of course. Likewise for the sisterhood’s history and foundational members. There would probably be some silly hazing thing (like a drinking game, or a “tell us your raunchy secrets” interview), but April wasn’t averse to getting drunk or talking about naughty things, especially when she had the former to help the latter along. Courtney was probably just trying to make sure her pledge was taking this seriously, and April was resolved to not disappoint her.

Despite her laid back, easygoing attitude, Courtney was a rather intimidating presence. A senior girl, she stood four inches taller than April and was probably the most solidly-built woman April had ever met. Big boned and very stocky, Courtney’s shoulders and hips were even wider than April’s, and that was saying something. She was quite a muscular girl, but she also had fifteen extra pounds of chub; in short, her body was a taller, more tank-like version of April’s. This all contrasted with her soft-featured Greek face, with its beaky nose, wide, brown eyes, and easy smile. If it weren’t for her big smile and rather silly demeanor, Courtney would probably cow a lot of people with her appearance.

“Good girl,” said Courtney, “Only the strong survive at SPK, but I think you‘re gonna’ make it.”

April and the other pledges giggled. The senior girls just smiled. There was a momentary, rather awkward, silence. Finally, someone said, “Can we put on Bad Romance?” And the conversation turned cheerfully back to the subject of Lady GaGa until the last of the pledges arrived.

“Pledges, after me,” said Sandra, the SPK Mistress of Ceremonies as she waved for them to follow her up the stairs. April and the other five underclasswomen quickly trotted after her.

“Be a good girl now,” said Courtney, waving a melodramatic goodbye as April left. She then threw a playful swat at April’s retreating bottom.

“Ow!”

April startled forward, a hand reflexively going back to rub the bulging rear of her tight cocktail dress. Around the living room, a few eyebrows rose. That didn’t look like it should have hurt. Face turning as red as her secretly burning tush, April looked at the floor as she hurried up the stairs, avoiding putting her hand back to her bum until she was sure she was out of sight.

There were a number of small bedrooms on the top floor, as well as a bathroom. At the end of the hall was a staircase leading up to the large loft, where - or so April had been told - the secret rituals of SPK were conducted amidst pomp and ceremony. Tonight, each of the doors had a pledge’s name taped to it.

“Each of you will open the door bearing your name. Inside, you will find the garments in which you must be robed for the final initiation, and a scarf to tie around your eyes. You must don these vestments, and then await your Big Sisters in silence.”

April had heard the sisters use this kind of language before, during the earlier ceremonies. Kevin was always making fun of the Greek scene for this, claiming it was over the top pretentiousness, but April thought it was kind of cool…if slightly eerie. On the other hand, she was a little disappointed that she wouldn’t get to show off her dress for the next while; hopefully, she’d be allowed to change back into it for the after-party.

Smiling encouragingly (if nervously) at each other, the six underclasswomen went into their respective rooms. What April found inside the small bedroom was…not what she had been expecting.

Lying neatly on the bed was what looked like some kind of gauzy, pink tutu, like a six year old who wanted to be a ballerina might bully her mother into buying. Next to it lay a light gray bikini-top and a pair of similarly colored thong panties, both apparently in April’s size. A pair of slippers sat on the floor by the bed, and hanging from the headboard was a black, polyester blindfold.

April stared in disbelief. She considered turning back to the door and asking Sandra for an explanation, but quickly decided that that would not be good for her initiation status. Reluctantly, she started untying the dress that she had wasted so much effort on. It looked like this was probably going to be a “tell your raunchy secrets” kind of event. She stole a quick look at her hindquarters in the mirror as the dress came off; damnit, they still had red handprints all over them! Feeling like she wanted to crawl under a rock, April just hoped that the pink tutu would disguise most of the redness.

…

Courtney watched impatiently as Sandra led the pledges up into the loft. Candles burned on the shelves that lined the dark, wooden walls. Twenty-one girls in flowing, black robes stood around the raised stage in the center of the room, as six others were escorted in. Five of the pledges wore white cloaks, similar to those of the older sisters except in color. The exception, of course, was April. Courtney felt a grin spread across her broad, Mediterranean face as she wondered excitedly how her little sister would react once the blindfolds came off; Courtney certainly recalled how scared and embarrassed she herself had been when she was the unlucky pledge three years earlier. Not fun to be there yourself, but - as she had learned - tremendously fun to watch it happen to someone else. And this semester’s would be even more engaging for Courtney. Tonight’s the night, Courtney mused. It’s happened before. Has to happen.

One of the other Big Sisters turned to her and whispered “Think you‘re up for this?”

Courtney’s grin broadened as whispered back. “Watch me.”

The other girl giggled behind her hand. “I‘m a little preoccupied watching something else right now.”

Courtney nodded. “I think we all are.”

She was at least mostly right. Many pairs of eyes were trained enviously on April, and the way in which that ridiculous pink thing barely contained her ample anatomy. Her belly and love handles weren’t flattered by the see-through dress, but her big breasts and even bigger buttocks were done wonders by the skimpy, gray underwear.

Up on the stage, Sandra commanded the pledges to recite the SPK motto in turn, tapping each one lightly on the head with a certain long, wooden object to let them know who was up next. Satisfactory performances all around. Next came the oaths themselves, naturally. Again, no hesitation or reluctance. April was shivering a little, her flesh rippling visibly; it was chilly in the loft, and she was the only one who wasn’t wearing a nice, warm robe. Courtney found it adorable; April was just such a cute, wide-eyed little girl. Ooh, here it comes…

“Remove your blindfolds.”

April had been expecting to see her pledge mates dressed in the same manner as herself when she finally pulled off the band. When it turned out that all their eyes were on her, she felt like she had been dropped in a pool of ice water; such was her shock and exposure, she almost forgot to keep her stomach sucked in. Is this a mistake? This has to be a mistake. Oh god, did I do something wrong? Is this a punishment? Worst of all, Did I not make the cut?

“Attention,” said Sandra, a smirk just barely managing to creep through her professional calm, “before we proceed, an explanation is in order.” She motioned to Courtney. “Sister Aniksos, stand with me.”

Courtney joined Sandra on the stage, her heavy silhouette dwarfing the Mistress of Ceremonies’. She managed to keep herself from smirking or winking at April as Sandra continued.

“As you’ve been told since your first night as pledges, the road of Sigma Phi Kappa is a difficult one. To walk it, you must be tested, mentally and physically.” As she said that last word, she held up the thing she had been prodding at them with, revealing it to be a large, wooden paddle, eighteen inches long including the handle, with the letters “SPK” cut out of the blade.

The pledges’ eyes all widened. April felt the bottom drop out of her stomach when she saw the paddle and - more quickly than the other girls, due to her recent life experiences - realized its purpose. This had to be a prank, she told herself hurriedly. Hazing wasn’t allowed on campus. They couldn’t actually expect her to…

“Five years ago, our chapter was investigated by the university when one of our pledges - her name will not be spoken - betrayed the sanctity of our sisterhood by telling the campus police about our test of physical resolve. Since that day, we have had to change our practices. It was decided that - instead of risking our secrecy by subjecting every pledge to the test - only one of you will bear the burden for her sisters. You have endured everything together thus far; what one of you faces, all of you face. If one of you fails, it is because her sisters have failed to give her proper support.”

She held the paddle out in front of her.

“The pledge to be tested is chosen by lot. The paddling - one lick for every new sister - will be administered by the chosen’s Big. Sister. Take the Tester of Endurance and call forth your pledge.”

Courtney took the paddle from Sandra’s hand and turned to April, smiling with mock-invitingness. “Come over here, Ape.”

April froze. Her face was like a helpless rodent’s when it realizes it’s backed into a corner. Courtney was tapping the paddle against her palm, impatient. The other pledges looked a mixture of relieved, concerned, and intrigued. Everyone was staring at April. In her pink gauze with the entire sorority watching and waiting for her mortification, April had never in her entire life felt this exposed. She looked from Courtney’s eyes to Sandra’s to the pledges’. Everything was hinging on her. If she didn’t take the paddling, she wouldn’t get in, and her peers would hate her for making one of them take the licks instead.

Slowly, breathing deeply, April stepped onto the stage and stood in front of Courtney. As Sandra backed off the stage, Courtney pointed at April’s feet. “Face the back wall and grab your knees.”

Courtney’s eyes were full of mirth, and she was smiling. April looked ready to faint. Moving very, very slowly, she turned her back to the watching sorority and - gritting her teeth - bent over and grabbed her knees. Courtney, standing a bit behind April and to her left, used her free hand to grab the hem of the pink tutu and flip it up over her back. When April’s mostly-naked butt was exposed, whispering and giggling erupted all around the room.

“April,” Courtney asked, slowly. “Have you rushed another sorority tonight?”

April squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could block her ears against the chorus of chuckles.

“He did a good job,” she continued when April didn’t answer, “it is a he, right?”

More laughter. April didn’t think she had ever blushed this hard.

“Can you give him my number?” someone in the peanut gallery asked. Uproarious laughter.

“Settle down!” Sandra finally cut in. She tried to sound stern, but in truth she was suppressing a giggle herself. April’s bottom was standing there, facing them, with red handprints all over it. Amusing though it was, Sandra did feel sorry for the pledge; tonight was seemingly not her lucky night.

Courtney licked her lips as she lined up the SPK paddle with April’s outstretched bum. “Get ready,” she said as she pressed the wood into her soft flesh, pushing April’s weight forward into her knees a bit, “here‘s one!”

She raised the paddle above her shoulder and brought it down with a twist of her hips, letting the Tester woosh around her body and SPLAT into April’s bottom with incredible force.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!”

April’s body shot up into a stand, raising herself up on her toes as she grabbed her ass in both hands. As the other girls chuckled nervously, she began beating her feet against the floor in a kind of dance.

“Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!”

Courtney looked at Sandra and shook her head in mock-disappointment. Sandra put a hand on April’s shoulder.

“Stay in position. If you do that again, Sister Aniksos will have to repeat the stroke.”

“You don‘t want me to hurt my arms, do you?” Courtney asked sweetly.

April looked back over her shoulder. Her five pledge classmates looked nervous. If they were interpreting Sandra correctly, their own entry into Sigma Phi Kappa was hinging on April’s ability to take this. She had to do this. For herself, and for them. But good god, the pain in her already stinging bottom was more than she could have ever imagined coming from a single blow from anything - and she still had five left! Memories of her first punishment spanking from Sara came to mind. April recalled the fire that wouldn’t go out, the agony that left her helplessly sobbing on the carpet for fifteen minutes and unable to sit down for days. Was she going to end up that way again, this time in front of her entire peer group?

Her mind reeling with mortification and shame, April bent back over (grimacing as she had to stretch her injured gluteal muscles) and grabbed her legs again.

“Good girl. You know this hurts me much more than it hurts you.”

The room erupted in chuckles. Courtney was a funny girl - it was an endearing quality in her Big Sister - but April had never been the butt (hahaha, get it?) of her jokes before.

“Ready?”

Before she had time to reply, she heard the paddle whistle through the air again, and another explosion of pain tore through her lower body. April reflexively tried to straighten, but she kept her fingers locked around her knees. She sucked in a long, harsh breath through her teeth as the agony in her situpon grew and flamed as her nerves got over the shock.

“Much better!” Courtney congratulated her, giving her bottom a little pat with her palm., “You‘re good at this. Ready for three?”

April started to shake her head no, but was interrupted by the third paddle stroke biting into her ass.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!”

April screamed. She couldn’t help it. Tears started to flow. She was bending and unbending her knees in a futile effort to diffuse the energy, her bottom dancing up and down like a piston in front of her audience, its mane of pink gauze fluttering. A chorus of laughs ensued, and intensified when Courtney put a hand under April’s lower buttocks (ow, did she have to squeeze that hard?) and held them in place until April was done bouncing. April felt her fingernails cutting into the skin of her knees. And she was only halfway done…

Mercifully, Courtney waited a bit longer before delivering the fourth dramatic blow to April’s sacrificial hindquarters, pulling the paddle quickly away so she could see as much of the bounce and jiggle as possible. She had been curious to see those chubby buns out in the open since she and April had first been assigned to each other. Sure, there was a thong, but it covered so small a percentage of April’s expansive target that it didn’t bother her a bit. On a further note, Courtney was more than a little curious about April’s initial redness. She had mentioned a boyfriend before (at length, actually). Courtney decided that she would have to learn more about their relationship dynamics in the near future, in the name of science of course.

The fifth lick was like the fourth, April somehow managing to stay bent over even as she yelled in anguish and trembled like a leaf in the wind. Courtney waited about twenty seconds before reaching up and, making sure she was putting as much into the last stroke as she could…

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!”

April stood up so abruptly that she nearly fell over backwards. The SPK sisters got to see the flesh explode in a great, rippling shockwave around the wooden paddle for just a split second before April’s hands flew to her buttocks and grasped them tightly as she wailed and stamped her feet.

“We‘re gonna have to do that one over,” said Courtney. Her voice was sorrowful, but her eyes betrayed her (fortunately, April was looking in a different direction).

“Repeat the final stroke,” Sandra agreed.

“No!” April squealed, having forgotten herself entirely., “I can’t! I can’t do it! I ca-”

Courtney put a big hand on April’s back and pushed her back into position. “Not hard.”

April squeezed the tears out of her eyes. She felt the flesh of her behind bruising, she knew it. She would have thought she was bleeding if she hadn’t had a chance to feel back there. Somehow, she managed to raise a part of her consciousness above the infernal pain and think clearly. That part of her consciousness decided that rushing SPK was still worth it, and commanded her fingers to grab, fumblingly, onto her knees).

SPLAT!

She let go of her knees again, came close to straightening up, but managed to bob back down before she could get herself into any more trouble. For an awful, pain-blinded moment, April wasn’t sure if they would count this one or not. Then, she felt Courtney and Sandra pull her upright and Courtney wrap her in a bear hug against her thick, soft body.

“Welcome home, honey.”

April sniffled as she squeezed Courtney’s midsection. Once she pulled away, April stood dazedly in the middle of the room as her pledge mates ran up and chatted at her excitedly. She had forgotten about sucking in her belly; her pudginess was out for all to see. Her carefully styled hair was all over the place, a few strands sticking to her face. Her ample bottom glowed red even through the pink fabric.

Once this had ended and the afterparty was underway, April quickly popped into the bathroom and lifted her tutu with her back to the mirror. Livid red weals ran across her fiery cheeks. The letters “SPK” were highlighted in white in several places on the swollen crowns of her buttocks, like a cattle brand. As April grimaced, she heard a knock at the bathroom door.

“Hurry up,” said Courtney’s voice, “the pledges serve the refreshments.”

Moaning, April fixed her hair as best she could and quickly splashed some cold water on her ass (ow!) before putting the tutu back and walking tenderly out. The other pledges had already changed back into their civilian clothes. April was about to go back upstairs to do the same when Courtney grabbed her arm.

“Keg‘s in the kitchen, snacks are on the table. Would you be a doll now and get Sandra and I a couple of beers?”

April nodded reluctantly and turned around toward the kitchen. The sisters cheered and catcalled as the scantily clad new member walked by. As she passed one of the couches, another SPK sister grabbed the hem of her tutu and lifted it.

“Damn, Court, do you play baseball?”

April blushed as she tried to pull out of the older girl’s grasp, but she held on tight.

“Big target,” said another girl sitting next to her, “hard to miss.” And she gave April a hard slap under the lifted tutu. April jumped into the air and yelped, yanking the hem of the tutu down a few inches and causing much laughter and applause around the room.

“Go get your big her beer now,” said the first girl, letting go of the tutu, “and fetch some carrot sticks while you’re at it.” She gave April’s bottom a couple of pats (ow!) over the tutu and let her go, averting her eyes from the room full of amused grins.

It was half an hour until April was given a minute to change back into her cocktail dress, and by that time she had endured countless jokes and comments and not a few painful slaps to her shamefully exposed and ruby-red bottom. She almost couldn’t bear to pull the dress past her hips; even after loosening it as much as she could and running her sizzling cheeks under more cold water (she could swear she heard the hiss of steam when the water touched her ass), it was still an agonizing process. Once she was dressed again, she found that every step caused pain as the dress was stretched against her rear. Generally speaking, April was proud of her big butt (it was one of the places where she didn’t want to lose weight), but right now she would gladly trade it in to make the back of her dress less tight. April drank and socialized and tried to laugh off her pain and embarrassment, but her sisters were gleefully aware of the fact that she wasn’t walking more than she had to and not sitting down at all. The beer helped reduce the pain, but when she was ready to go home two hours later it was still a less than comfortable walk.

…

When April got back to her room, the sound of the TV told her that Sara was home. The smell of marijuana told her that Sara had been doing some deep thinking.

“Good evening,” said Sara as April came in. Her dark red hair was hanging loose and wavy around her shoulders, and there was a smile on her face.

“Hi,” April replied quickly on her way to the bedroom. Sara kept watching the screen as April passed, raising her eyes only after she had gone by. Her expression was quizzical, as if she was trying to make a difficult decision. Her smile continued, but it was very soft.

April’s first action once she had the bedroom door closed behind her was to ditch the cocktail dress, breathing a sigh of relief once the pressure was off. She pulled off her panties as well, grimacing as the waistband constricted her inflamed cheeks on their way down. She looked at her ass once more in the bedroom mirror. The welts had mostly gone down, but there was still a dark, unhealthy redness that bordered on maroon, covering her entire derriere. It looked like a couple spots were starting to bruise.

She was tempted to just lie down on her bed and fall asleep, as the evening had left her incredibly drained. Unfortunately, she remembered that she was expecting an email from Professor Johnston the PE teacher about getting that personal weight trainer. Groaning, gingerly rubbing her posterior, April put on her loosest, lightest short skirt and went back to the living room where her laptop was stationed.

Sara was sitting in the same position, looking even more pensive than before. The smile had been replaced with a poker face.

“How was initiation?” Sara asked as April stood at the desk behind Sara’s back.

“Huh? Oh…um…it was great! It was like, a bit party, and everything was really wild.”

“That sounds really nice.” Sara turned back toward April and smiled encouragingly. “And now you’re a sister.”

“I know, right? Finally!”

Sara waited for a few moments. Then, “we lost the tennis game ten to six.”

“Oh,” April said distractedly as she logged onto gmail, “that sucks.”

Sara sighed and turned back to the TV. She kept thinking as April typed away, now seeming a little more sure of whatever idea she was considering. The room was silent until April logged off and started back toward the bedroom.

“It was your turn to do the dishes,” Sara said as April walked by.

April froze in her tracks. Her heart sank halfway down her midsection as she remembered throwing her dishes on top of the others that afternoon before starting on her wardrobe.

“Shit! I’ll do it now.”

“Too late,” said Sara as April trotted toward the kitchen, “I already did.”

April’s heart sank the rest of the way. No. Not now. Not after everything else…

Sara switched off the TV with the remote and turned toward April. “It seemed like you were going to make it two whole weeks without needing this. So much for that.” She patted her thigh.

“No, please! Not tonight! Please!”

Sara shook her head, her mouth forming the cruel smile that April had become all too familiar with in recent months. “I’ve never let you put it off before. What makes tonight any different?”

April looked from her waiting roommate to the bedroom to the door. Then, she started crying.

“April?” Sara got up from the couch and walked up to her. April never seemed exactly thrilled when Sara announced it was punishment time, but this was a bit more extreme. “April, are you alright?”

“No!” barked April between sniffles, “I’m not!” And, with her self-control and sense of propriety eroded away by a combination of beer and tonight’s taxing events, she tearfully told Sara everything.

“Kevin spanks you?” Sara interrupted when she got to that part.

“Y-yes. Ever since you let him watch you bitch!”

“Hmm,” Sara chewed her lip, “yes, that would fit.” There was a subtle look of triumph in her green eyes, as if something she was hypothesizing had just been confirmed.

April’s wet eyes narrowed in confusion. “Never mind,” Sara waved her on, “keep telling me.”

April knew she wasn’t supposed to talk about Sigma Phi Kappa’s secret rituals, but her filter had been paddled out of commission. Sara seemed taken aback by the reports.

“Do you mind if I see?”

April turned around and lifted the back of her skirt, leaving her swollen, multicolored rump completely naked before Sara. She looked at Sara’s face over her shoulder, hoping for sympathy. It was there for a moment, but then the poker face returned. There was something a little different about Sara tonight.

“Ouch.”

“So,” April said as she let go of her skirt and wiped her eyes, “can you please, please not spank me for the dishes? I’ll do them for a month.”

She screwed up her round face and gave Sara a look of utmost sorrow with her wide, blue eyes. Sara shook her head.

“If I let it go this time, it sets a bad precedent.”

April opened her mouth to argue, but Sara continued.

“But, if you don’t make a fuss, I’ll do it very, very lightly; it‘ll barely even hurt. And afterward I’ll get you some ice.”

April shook her head no. Sara raised her voice a little and said, sternly, “if it doesn‘t happen tonight, then it‘ll happen tomorrow, and I‘ll use the brush. It‘ll be the hardest butt-beating you‘ve ever gotten, including your initiation.”

April stared at her for a moment. Would Sara really make good on that threat? She didn’t doubt her ability to do so (her first punishment spanking from Sara had left her bawling like an infant, and that had been with just her hand), but would she really? Just over the dishes? April decided, reluctantly, that she had better avoid finding out.

“Do you promise to be really gentle?”

“I promise to be gentle.”

That would have to be good enough. April stalked over to the couch and waited for Sara to sit back down, but Sara surprised her by saying “let’s sit on my bed.” April followed her into the bedroom, where Sara sat down and guided her compliant counterpart over her lap. April was wearing nothing besides a bra and skirt, so her soft midsection was lying directly on Sara’s exposed thigh (Sara was still wearing her gym shorts). With a soft grunt, April positioned herself so that she was lying along the side of the bed, with her hips raised over Sara’s lap. Sara flipped up her skirt, revealing her beaten backside once more.

“Your big must have really given it to you,” Sara said, tracing her index fingernail very gently across April’s hindquarters, “I can see the paddle marks. Heh, are those letters?”

April nodded, blushing for the millionth time that night as Sara’s tickling fingernails outlined a faded “SPK” on the middle of her right buttock. Her touch stung a little, but it also tickled. April tried not to make any sounds. A moment later, she felt Sara’s palm rest itself very lightly against the side of her rounded bum, and Sara started rubbing her without applying any pressure.

“You know,” Sara said slowly as she rubbed April’s cheeks, “I never thought I‘d find myself here.”

“At school?” April asked sarcastically, breathing in at the relief the gentle rubbing was bringing but wary of what might follow.

Sara chuckled. “With your naked ass in my face.”

April wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Sara rubbed her fanny in a wide circle before lifting her hand and giving a firm pat to her left flank, making it jiggle and vibrate just a tiny bit. April grimaced at the burning sting.

“I‘ve been thinking about our living situation. There‘s a lot that doesn‘t make sense about it, but might.”

She rubbed another circle, going the other way, before patting the same cheek a little harder. April sucked in a pained breath.

“Why do you think I spank you?”

She gave a very light slap to the underside of each cheek as she asked, making April whimper and roll back and forth over Sara’s lap.

“I dunno,” April said despondently, “because you’re mean?”

“Hmm.” She gently tickled April’s buttocks with her nails again, right over the undersides where she had slapped. “That‘s probably part of it. Did I seem like a mean person before the thing with Stan?”

April twitched as she tickled a very sensitive spot on the crease of her left buttock and her fleshy thigh. “I dunno, not really.”

“Right, I didn’t think I was.”

SLAP!

April reared up into a cobra-like position as Sara delivered the first real spank to the center of her lower bum, making both maroon cheeks bounce and splash away from her hand.

“OW!!!”

April made as if to get up, but Sara put a firm hand on her back and slowly, as if making a wordless argument, pushed her front back onto the bed. As if to atone for her last smack, she began an even gentler rubbing of April’s inflamed bottom with her other hand.

“Any ideas about why I do this to you?”

April looked over her shoulder for clues. Sara’s face said nothing. April shrugged.

“I‘ve been psychoanalyzing myself lately,” Sara went on, “I never thought there‘d be so much I didn‘t know.”

A few firmer pats, not as hard as the last slap, but painful, fell in a ring around April’s bum.

“You have such a great ass.”

SLAP!

April spasmed and yelped, then looked back over her shoulder in disbelief. Had she really just said that? Sara was smiling in an odd way.

“Really. I love how it jiggles when I smack it. Like that!”

Two hard smacks landed on the centers of each cheek, reignited some of the fire that was smouldering under the surface. April kicked her legs as the pain resurged, hot and fierce. Fortunately, Sara followed up with another gentle rubdown.

“Its so funny. Its like playing with jell-o. I don’t blame Kevin for picking it up from me; I’ll bet he gets really turned on when he spanks you, doesn’t he?”

April was aghast. There were so many things running through her mind right now she wasn’t even sure how to begin processing it. Despite having had her bare bottom over Sara’s knees many times before, she suddenly felt very naked and exposed, and totally out of the comfort zone she had been forced to build.

“Doesn’t he?”

Sara pinched April’s tush hard, making her thrash again. April quickly nodded yes.

“Heh. I thought so.”

Sara very gently rubbed the place where she had pinched before getting friskier again. Pat. Pat. Rub. SMACK!

“I have another question for you,” Sara began another very long and conciliatory rubbing and tickling period, “why are we still roommates?”

April shrugged, not daring to look Sara in the face.

“You could switch rooms any time you wanted. If you were really upset at me, you could report me to the Dean; I always leave plenty of physical evidence.” She chuckled her as she traced the fading white handprint she had left over the deep redness of April’s posterior. “I would be expelled. And probably arrested.”

April wanted to crawl under a rock. Sara’s tickling fingertips began to creep toward the center of her ass, running up and down along the sides of her crack. It was very sensitive in there, and not nearly as spanked, so the tickling was stronger and less painful. April almost giggled despite herself.

“But for some reason, you don’t.”

Suddenly the tickling was gone, and ten full-fledged spanks landed without warning on April’s fat behind. Each one was like a firecracker, fueled by the pain of the one before. Her bottom was roasting in its own heat, and Sara was languidly stoking it back into a full inferno. She had to concentrate on holding April down for a few moments until her kicking and struggling ended before she could start rubbing the burn back out again. There was a long, silent stretch as Sara carefully fondled and caressed April’s much-abused flesh. April was hoping the dialogue was over for good. But she knew she was still vulnerable, until-

April felt something cool, smooth, and hard rest against her left butt. She recognized it immediately.

“NO!” She tried to bolt upright, but Sara was expecting it and held her clumsily down. “NOT THE HAIRBRUSH! YOU PROMISED YOU WOULDN’T USE THE HAIRBRUSH!”

Sara removed the brush and waited for April to settle down. Then she said “ten. Just ten with the brush, not very hard. Then I’ll get the ice. I promise.”

April looked hard and desperately into her disciplinarian’s face. Sara looked so confident, so much in her element. April met her gaze very carefully. After about ten seconds, she slowly nodded yes, and lowered her head back into position.

The plastic hairbrush moved up and down her cheek, its weight resting on the inside of her crack, its bristles tickling the inside of the opposite buttock and making April suppress another giggle.

“Behave yourself now, and I‘ll make it feel better. Otherwise, I‘ll spank you every day for a week. Hard.”

And with that, the hairbrush vanished from April’s crack before returning - at a much greater velocity - to her left sit spot. April yelled and lurched, but Sara kept her down while the hairbrush repeated its forceful kiss on the opposite cheek. Three seconds later, another splat, exactly on top of the second one. The fourth came faster, and again on the same side. April’s right cheek felt like it would burst open at the next spank, but the next one landed on the left. Sara increased the speed of the paddling, thoroughly enjoying the sight of April’s fat ass - already so bruised and welted - wobbling madly as she punished it hard and fast. After the ninth stroke, she waited for a moment before bringing it down at full force on the center of her bum, making both cheeks bounce aside and making April screech over the loud, fleshy CRACK! of the hairbrush. Then she was done.

Sara replaced the hairbrush on her bedside table and began petting April’s dark blonde hair. April was sobbing again; not too hard, but clearly in a lot of pain. Sara stroked the back of her head like a kitten and massaged her back while April made occasional attempts to rub her backside, but gave up when her hand hurt more than helping.

“There’s a tray of ice cubes in the freezer,” Sara said when the sobbing had ended, “bring ’em over.”

Sniffing the last of the tears and snot back into her nose, April got up and (after discarding the skirt, as even it was now painful to wear) walked delicately out of the room, Sara eyeing her mottled red and purple fanny as she stepped. When she returned with the ice, Sara pulled her back over her lap. April gasped when Sara gently touched an ice cube to the lower middle of her left cheek, where the bruising was worst. She wriggled and breathed loudly as the melting ice was brought, slowly and gently, around the extensive surface of her rear, leaving a trail of instant relief that slowly melted back into pain in its wake.

“Feel good?” Sara asked as she spread the ice over both of April’s immense hemispheres. April nodded, her body trembling as icemelt trickled down the valley toward her anus. Noticing April’s strong reaction, Sara moved the ice cube itself down toward the crevice, making April kick a little as the freezing object pushed against some sensitive skin.

Sara chuckled. “No kicking.” She gave April a light spank with her free hand that convinced her to try to keep still.

When Sara was done cooling that area, she moved down to the sit spots, quickly melting an entire ice cube over those purple, lower chubs and starting on another. As she worked at her lower buns, she leaned a little further over and peeked between her legs.

“That didn‘t all come from the ice, did it?” Sara whispered knowingly, mischievously. April groaned in embarrassment and started to close her thighs, but Sara put her hand in between.

“Let me see.”

April felt a finger trace around the perimeter of her clean-shaven vagina, pulling itself away across her skin to spread the warm fluids before returning. Sara ventured a little deeper toward the middle, and April shuddered involuntarily across her lap.

“That’s pretty naughty of you, April,” Sara said as she continued applying the ice with one hand and venturing into April’s damp folds with the other, “but it explains a lot.”

Suddenly, Sara touched the ice to April’s open vulva, making her jump an inch off her lap. Sara laughed heartily and moved her probing arm upward to press down hard on April’s back. With her roommate securely pinned, she started tracing around her vagina again, first with her cool fingertips, and then with the freezing ice. The mix of sensations dazed April. She couldn’t think clearly at all, and she had no idea how she was supposed to react.

“You’re such a sexy little girl. And so submissive. I bet you’ve been making me mad on purpose, haven’t you?”

April didn’t answer. She honestly didn’t know the answer. Avoiding the question, she just let herself slide back into a world of pure sensation as Sara’s fingers stopped playing around and made their way into her waiting tunnel. The horniness she had left over from Kevin’s spanking had resurfaced. This was a moment of weakness, and Sara was taking full advantage of it.

April’s moans took on a different tune when Sara’s fingering was accompanied by the tip of an ice cube being pressed against her back door. April looked back around at her leering companion and started to protest, but Sara gave her a look that shut her up. Gasping, bouncing hilariously around to deal with the cold, April shut her eyes and was introduced to a strange new feeling as Sara slowly, rhythmically pushed the ice cube into her anus, while she fingered and probed her vagina with her other hand.

“That’s right, keep bouncing,” Sara said as April’s bobbing lower body created friction around her fingers and helped the ice cube work its way into her ass, “pretend like I‘m a couple of guys. Or something.”

April was barely hearing her. She couldn’t stand the freezing inside of her sensitive innards, the burning heat that was coming back in her bottom cheeks, the gyrating invasion of her female orifice…she needed it to stop, to continue, to…

With a loud moan, April’s body seized up. Sara kept pushing in and out of both openings without breaking pace, pushing her roommate over the edge and all the way down into the soil at the bottom of the canyon. Finally, when April started shivering in real pain, she removed the ice cube and used both hands to gently fondle her bottom. April lay across her knees, twitching, as she recovered from the strangest, most painful orgasm of her young life.

“You’ll sleep in my bed tonight,” said Sara.

April turned over on her side and let Sara spoon her in her taller, muscular body. Sara’s pubic hair was scratching her sore ass, but April knew better than to make an issue of it. As Sara’s hand reached over her body and started pulling off her bra, April remembered that she had promised Kevin she would see him again tonight, and realized that he wouldn’t be happy with her negligence. She whimpered in dread at what the morning would bring.

But for now, she fell into a contented sleep.

Backfire 2

I decided to alternate sexes when throwing a new spanker at April. That means chapter 3 is going to have another woman, and 4 will have another man.

And yes, Crazy Dave is someone I actually went to college with.

...


The four of them were sitting in Sara and April’s room. It was the first time all four of them had been together for an extended period, so it was a nice bonding experience. Sara and Stan were sitting next to each other on the couch. Sara was a tall, redheaded tennis champ with a slim, athletic figure. Stan was an equally athletic young man with brown hair, bright green eyes, and a tan. Seated opposite them on a chair was Kevin, with April sitting contentedly in his lap. April was her roommate’s opposite; a short, full-figured, slightly chubby girl with dirty blonde hair that she wore in curls. Kevin was a tall, broad-shouldered African American boy with a distinctive, soft smile.

“And that’s why they call him Crazy Dave,” finished Stan.

“Wow,” said Kevin, shaking his head in disbelief, “I heard a little bit about him before, but that…that‘s just crazy.”

April rolled her eyes. She was the only one in the room who didn’t know Crazy Dave, and this topic of discussion was boring her.

“I just got assigned my Big,” she said, leaning back into Kevin’s chest, “did I tell you?”

Everyone exhaled softly.

“Yeah,” said Kevin, “I think you mentioned it once or twice.”

“Mmhmm. I’m so excited! Sigma Phi Kappa is such a great sorority!”

She danced a little in place, grinding her ass into Kevin’s crotch. This had the effect of reducing his annoyance with her. The other two were less satisfied, though. In particular, Sara was biting her tongue. If April didn’t stop hogging the conversation and talking about herself nonstop, she might be in for a reprimand later on.

Sara and April had been friends since freshman year. A month and a half ago, their roommate relationship had taken an unconventional new direction. Specifically, Sara spanked April. It started when Sara began dating Stan, who April had had a crush on. April didn’t take that too well; she was prone to occasional petulant moods and immature behavior, and the fit she threw over Sara and Stan was nothing short of ridiculous. When all else failed, Sara solved the problem by wrestling her to the ground, ripping off her panties, and giving her the spanking of a lifetime until she was crying like a baby and couldn’t sit comfortably for days. That was Sara’s first (and most severe) disciplinary action toward her roommate, but it was far from the last. Since that day, any selfish or unruly behavior on April’s part had been handled with a session over Sara’s knee. Bare bottom, hand, and-if she had really pissed Sara off-a hard plastic hairbrush. It happened pretty often, at least once a week and usually more often than that. That was one of many reasons why April was glad to have found Kevin; the more time she spent in his dorm, the fewer opportunities Sara had to punish her.

Sara looked at the clock. The pizza should arrive in about ten minutes.

“Hungry?” Stan asked her.

“Just a little.”

“Mmm.”

He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her against his body. She murmured softly and played with his hair. Sara missed being able to spank April as often as she could find an excuse. She had been dating Kevin for three weeks now, and was hardly ever around. Sara was happy for her. Kevin was an exceptional catch, and it was good that she had gotten over Stan and found a hotie of her own. But on the other hand, Sara had developed a fondness for spanking her roommate’s wide, jiggly bubble butt. Sure, she had great fun giving it to Stan (her latent dominant inclinations were a big part of what attracted him in the first place, and she didn‘t disappoint), but his ass just wasn’t the eminently spankable cushion that April’s was.

Oblivious to their annoyance, April blabbered on about her new Big Sister for a minute or two until she had to go to the bathroom. Excusing herself, she got out of Kevin’s lap and stalked into the bathroom. All three of the others covertly watched her massive, protruding buttcheeks wobble under her shorts as she went.

“That girl,” said Kevin, smiling and leaning back in the chair, “that girl.”

“She‘s way too into the sorority thing,” said Sara, “I‘m kind of impatient for pledging to be over.”

“Then she‘ll brag about being in,” said Stan, shaking his head a little.

“Hmm,” said Sara, “maybe she needs a spanking.”

Stan blushed and turned his eyes away when Sara uttered the S word. Kevin’s eyes widened a bit as he looked at her curiously.

“A spanking? What?”

“Spanking,” she repeated, “you know, smacking her butt until she learns when to shut up.”

Stan’s face was burning scarlet despite his tan. He was more than aware of Sara and April’s domestic arrangement, and didn’t feel comfortable having it discussed around others. After all, it might lead the conversation in the direction of Sara’s other flagellatory pastimes, which he’d rather the guys not know about. Kevin, however, wasn‘t changing the subject.

“Okay,” he said, half-grinning, “you wanna’ bend her over and spank her, you go right ahead.”

“I think I will.”

Kevin waited for her to laugh. When she didn’t, his eyes widened a little further.

“Wait…you‘re SERIOUS?”

“Yep,” said Sara, “I spank April all the time. Isn‘t that right, Stan?”

She reached around behind Stan’s neck and petted the crook of his chin. Silently cursing his sweetheart, he managed to stammer “yeah. I saw it once.”

Kevin was understandably shocked. He was the first to admit his girlfriend could be a bit childish from time to time, but spanking her? She was a twenty year old woman! As her boyfriend, he felt like he should speak up in her defense, call Sara a pervert or a sadist or something like that. But on the other hand, the image of April getting spanked had a peculiar reaction in his mind. Kevin adored April’s bum. Even with her huge, spherical breasts and soft, creamy, dark blonde hair, it was her best feature. When they were intimate, he always loved fondling, squeezing, and lightly slapping it, and the way it jiggled and rippled when they were going at it doggy-style was nothing short of hypnotic. Now that the idea of April’s naked ass getting spanked by her roommate was in his head, it wouldn’t easily go away.

“But…” Kevin stammered, “…that‘s like…abuse.”

Sara shrugged. “She hasn't called the cops on me yet. And she does behave better afterwards. For awhile, anyway. Here, I‘ll show you.”

The bathroom door was opening. When April came back out, Sara stood up.

“April,” she said seriously, “there‘s something we need to discuss.”

April looked from Kevin to Sara to Stan, her round face wearing a blank expression. “Huh?”

“You've been going on and on about rushing SPK. Nonstop. For weeks. Everybody‘s told you they get the point already, but you still keep derailing our conversations to talk about yourself.”

“Okay, sorry, I‘ll stop.”

“You said that a week ago. Your promise isn‘t enough.”

Kevin watched the proceedings in dazed disbelief. This was a joke, right? Sara was just messing with his mind. She had to be. But then why did Stan look like he wanted to crawl under the bed and hide?

“Um…” April began to look very timid. “Sara,” she stepped closer and leaned in to whisper, “there‘s people over.”

Sara shook her head. “Everyone here‘s seen your ass at least once. I‘m not going to wait and let you spend the night at Kevin‘s until I forget about it.”

April looked mortified. Sara had to suppress a grin. Why the hell was she doing this? For some reason, the prospect of disciplining her unwilling roommate in front of two attractive men gave her an incredible naughty thrill. She hadn’t actually been intending to do it when she raised the subject. But when April came back in the room, her body just took over. Sara thought about dropping it and sitting back down as if nothing had happened, but it was too late to back down now.

April had a total deer-in-the-headlights look. She was positively mortified.

“Here,” Kevin said, starting to stand up, “baby, let‘s go to my room.”

Sara had to think quickly to salvage this situation. Still not sure what exactly had gotten into her, she managed to come up with a response.

“If you let me do it now, I‘ll use my hand on your panties. If you make me wait, you‘ll get the hairbrush. Bare-assed.”

April looked almost ready to cry. Stan was sitting very quietly, not saying a word. As for Kevin…well, he wasn’t at all sure what to do.

“April?” He asked.

April looked desperately around the room, her light blue eyes getting panicked. There was no way out. Either get spanked in front of both their boyfriends right now, or condemn herself to a complete butt-blistering after hours. What the hell was Sara doing? Over the course of the last couple months, she had turned into a complete sadistic bitch, but this was a step beyond even that.

Well, April thought, Sara can spank really hard with her hand, but its not as bad as what she can do with that goddamned brush. They all had seen her naked ass before, hadn’t they? I mean, Kevin loved playing with her ass; he might even enjoy watching this. And Stan…well, this would be nothing new for him. Anything to avoid that hairbrush.

“Okay,” April said timidly, looking at the floor, “you can spank me now.”

“What? April, are you s-”

She cut her boyfriend off. “Yeah yeah, I‘m sure.”

April was blushing even redder than Stan. She looked adorable when she was embarrassed, with her cute, round face screwed up and framed by her dark blonde curls. Grinning evilly, Sara sat down on the couch and patted her thigh. Reluctantly, April dragged her feet over to the couch and, shutting her eyes, laid down over Sara’s lap. Stan got out of the way, making room for April’s legs as she stretched herself across the length of the couch, her enormous bottom raised over Sara’s thighs. April had extremely wide hips for her height, which supported a pair of huge, hemispherical buttocks that now jutted lewdly into the air. If April gained any more weight, she’d be actually fat. As it was, though, she was right at the sweet spot where most of her few extra pounds were carried in her breasts and backside, and just accentuated her voluptuousness.

Sara patted her roommate’s bottom, admiring how it looked in those shorts.

“Aren‘t we forgetting something?”

Groaning, April stood back up and unbuttoned the front of her khaki shorts. Blushing anew, she put her thumbs under the hem and pulled them down, revealing nothing but a lacy black thong underneath. Sara gave an extra-wide smirk before putting a hand on her roommate’s shoulder and gently pulling her back over her lap.

“I…um…” Kevin knew he should leave. He shouldn’t be watching this. He got up to go, but April gave him a pleading look out of the corner of her eye. Right. She’d want his moral support. Biting his lip, Kevin sat back down in the chair, hoping no once could see the outline of his growing erection inside his pants. He felt terrible for enjoying this scene, but there didn’t seem to be anything he could do. He shot a resentful look at Stan, but was surprised to see that Stan was already averting his eyes. Well, at least he was a gentleman.

SLAP!

The sound of hand striking flesh brought Kevin’s eyes back to his girlfriend’s chastisement. April’s right buttock had just been slapped heartily, and was bouncing and jiggling from the force. A second later, Sara had raised her hand again and was swinging it into April’s left cheek.

SPLAT!

Her other buttock now trembled in place. It was a bad day to wear a thong; that thin stripe of cloth wasn’t remotely protecting April’s skin. April grimaced and wriggled a little after each smack, but kept bracing herself for the next. She knew it was about to get much worse.

SMACK!

Sara alternated cheeks, letting her hand fall about once every second. Kevin was sure it hurt; an Amazon like Sara could pack quite a slap. But it didn’t seem to be that bad...

After five smacks to each of April’s wobbling cheeks, all that changed.

Sara suddenly sped up, raising and contracting her arm seemingly as fast as she could. At least two strokes per second, and considerably harder. Sara clenched her jaw and leaned in on April’s back with her left hand to hold her down. This was a necessary precaution, as April had started really writhing and struggling.

“Sara! Ow! No no, I-OW!”

Kevin was transfixed. April’s butt was like a pair of full, fatty moons, whose pale white surfaces were being quickly turned strawberry red. Sara’s hand rose and fell too fast to let the jiggling from the last blow subside by the time the next slap came crashing down. The result was a voluptuous, perpetually bouncing pair of reddening mounds.

“Will you stop babbling about your sorority?”

SMACK! SLAP! SPLAT! SLAP!

“OW! OW! Yes, I‘ll stop! I‘LL STO-OW!!!”

Sara gritted her teeth and leaned in hard with her left arm, holding April securely down. Her right hand was a blur, getting in as many spanks as she possibly could. She abandoned her pattern of alternating cheeks, instead going for a more random assault on April’s fat behind. She gave each swelling, wobbling cheek anywhere from one to seven smacks before attacking the other one, spreading the fire unpredictably into her good friend’s ample, shapely seat. Each palm fell right on the thickest, fleshiest part of each buttock, right where April would have to apply pressure if she wanted to sit down. This was to ensure maximum pain, and maximum jiggle.

“You also haven‘t been doing your chores,” Sara scolded, not breaking pace as her hand continued to demolish April’s tush, “I told you to get paper towels yesterday, I got them last time. You still haven‘t done it!”

SMACK! WAP! SMACK! SPLAT! SPLAT! SMACK! SLAP! The sound of each slap faded into the ones before and after it, the sound of April’s spanking reaching a machinegun rapidity. April couldn’t answer Sara’s accusation; all she could do was hump her body and flail her limbs and cry out for her to stop.

“AAAAHH! STOP! PLEASE! PLEASE!!!”

The smacks kept falling at the same pace for well over a minute. Sara’s arm was getting pretty tired by now, so she slowed down, reverting to the one smack per second pace that she had used at the beginning. Each time her hand made contact with April’s big, burning cheeks, she stopped and grabbed her for a moment, groping and feeling at the swollen flesh that she had brought such pain too. Finally, the last two strokes came on either cheek, and Sara took her hand off April’s back.

“All done.”

April was sniffling a little, her eyes starting to get dewy. Her huge butt had two, cherry-red circles on the lower middle part of each cheek, fading away to light pink boundaries on the centers and at the creases of her thighs. As she stood up, Sara raised a hand to gently rub her roommate’s ass, dragging her fingers in a circle across the roasted meat.

“Have we learned our lesson?”

April nodded fervently, both her hands going to her blistered backside. As she rubbed her reddened flesh, she sent more ripples through it, keeping her audience’s attention. When she bent down to pull up her shorts, Sara couldn’t resist giving another hard slap to her outstretched bum, sending an awesome bounce through her flesh and making April yelp and stumble away from the couch before pulling them gingerly back up.

“Well,” said Stan, “I think the pizza’s here by now.”

“Th-that‘s okay,” said Kevin, “I um, I‘ve got pasta in the fridge. Babe, you want to come with me?”

“Ow…yes.” April took Kevin by the hand and let him lead her out of the room. “I‘m…I‘m not really hungry anymore.”

As they went through the door, Kevin looked back at Sara and Stan.

“Well…I‘ll catch you two tonight. Dexter at nine?”

Sara nodded. “Season finale.”

“Right. Um…see ya.”

He gave one last awkward glance at Sara before closing the door behind them.

When the other two were gone, Stan turned to Sara and stared in disbelief.

“I can‘t believe you just did that.”

Sara grinned teasingly.

“I guess we‘re both learning things about me.”

He shook his head.

“You‘re crazy.”

“Mmhmm. You want a turn?”

“Was that a question?”

“Get the brush.”

---

After watching the escapades, Kevin had a rocklike boner to deal with, and April needed some cheering up. Fortunately, both problems were easily solvable.

“Oh yeah! Harder!”

Kevin thrusted his hips forward again, losing himself in the feeling of April’s tight vaginal walls as they constricted around his shaft to the hilt. Despite her wide hips, April’s female passageway was extremely tight. Sometimes, he almost had trouble getting it in. This afternoon though, her throbbing, heavily-lubricated vagina pulled him in eagerly.

“MMMM…!”

He pulled most of his eight and a half inches back out before thrusting again, his penis sliding exuberantly against her slick, hot membranes. There was a satisfying slap when his hips smacked against her hot, well-spanked bottom.

“YES! LIKE THAT!”

Chuckling adoringly at her reactions, Kevin grabbed her short, blonde hair in one hand and teased her massive, hanging breasts with the other. She was on all fours on his bed, with his tall, dark body encapsulating her from behind. She loved it when Kevin took her in this position. It was like being inside of a muscular, heaving castle of man, and having it inside her.

Kevin leaned his head in and nibbled at the crook of her neck, letting her damp hair fill his face. Leaving one hand on her big, squishy breasts, he slipped the other one further below her, feeling his way across her deliciously soft belly and toward her soaked clitoris. He found it, open and waiting for his fingers, and stroked it rhythmically while his penis ground against it from the other side. He was coordinated enough to keep up the thrust as he maneuvered his hands, flexing his big, meaty ass forward and backward against hers.

“Oh god! Yes! That’s it that’s it that’s it!!! AAAHHHHH!”

Her body trembled in convulsive bliss as his hands and cock worked together to push her over the edge. He squeezed and pinched her left nipple as she came, making her gasp abruptly in the middle of her orgasmic moans. Kevin loved her tits. Despite their impressive size and roundness, they weren’t at all saggy. All firm and bouncy, like rubber balls. And the feeling of her huge, fat ass against his crotch…he just didn’t think there was a word in English to describe that.

He pounded his hard, muscular body into her soft, curvy one until the pressure and friction got too much, and he felt her vagina squeezing his cargo loose. He thrusted deeper, each reentry sending a stronger spasm of pleasure through his cock and into his abdomen.

“Ohhh…Owww….AHHHH…!”

He grabbed each of her breasts and squeezed them tightly as his body reared up, hips pushing forward as he poured himself into her. April squealed and wiggled her hips in delight against his tight, muscular flesh as his warm semen spilled into her canal, filling her up. Breathing deeply, body glistening with sweat, Kevin pulled his wet, glistening cock out of her, watching with a sense of accomplishment as the first few drops of his seed came spilling out in its wake.

“Oh god,” whimpered April, collapsing forward onto her belly, “Kev, that was…ohmigod, I came twice that time.”

Kevin laid down on top of her, letting his still hard and throbbing penis rest between her buttocks and laying his hard, muscular torso against her back.

“Twice? I only heard one.”

She nodded insistently. “The second time my throat was dry.”

He chuckled and played with her hair, kissing and nibbling on one of her earlobes. Despite being much taller than her, he found a way to lay his body over hers that allowed all the important parts to touch. Kevin was also well aware of her hot, throbbing buttocks under his cock and lower belly. The heat they gave off in the aftermath of her hard spanking was a new sensation for him, and one that he was quickly coming to love.

Kevin thought he had solved a few mysteries about their sex lives. Normally, April had a very high sex drive, and was just about always ready for a little fun. But from time to time, she was mysteriously unwilling to take her pants off. She’d be as eager as ever to satisfy him with her hands and mouth, but for some reason would not let him reciprocate for anywhere from a few hours to a couple of days. Now he was pretty sure it was because she had just been disciplined by Sara, and didn’t want Kevin to see her candy-red ass. Well, the secret was out now. Despite his innate sense of chivalry, Kevin found himself wondering if April would be spanked again in the near future. There was no doubting that they were both more enthusiastic in the sack after he had witnessed today’s chastisement; he had never managed to give her multiple orgasms before.

They spent the late afternoon cuddling, listening to music, and talking. Kevin was glad when April didn’t mention her sorority a single time. Apparently, Sara was right; maybe April really did need her butt warmed up when she got annoying.

They were just starting to get curious with each other’s bodies again when Kevin happened to look at the clock.

“Woah!”

“Baby, you missed your study group!”

“Mmm?” April rolled over on her back and looked demurely up at him, “Yeah, I know.”

“What? But…April, you missed Monday too.”

April shrugged, smiling cutely. “Oopsie.”

Kevin sat up, looking at his girlfriend. Seeing his upset face, she went on the defensive.

“What‘s the problem? It isn't, like, I‘m going to fail my classes or anything.”

“I thought you joined that one ‘cause you needed help in chem?”

She shrugged. “So? I‘m doing okay this semester.”

“I thought that was because you joined the group?”

She rolled her big, blue eyes. “Ugh. Let‘s talk about something else.”

She moved her body closer to him and wrapped around his front, wrapping her arms around his waist and pushing her face against his rounded pecs. Kevin stayed propped up on one arm, looking down at the top of her blonde head.

“Babe, you can‘t keep doing that.”

“Why not?”

She reached around his body and tickled his buttocks. Kevin had a round, West African backside, as tight and muscley as the rest of his body. April was almost as fond of Kevin’s ass as he was of hers, and loved pinching and tickling it when he wasn’t expecting it. This time, though, Kevin didn’t respond by pulling her hair or grabbing her big tits or any of his usual antics. Instead, he was thinking.

April squeezed his left butt cheek, murmuring approvingly at the resilient texture and mass. Slowly, she lifted her head to his raised side and ran her tongue along the side of his stomach, tickling and tingling his skin as it went over the contours of each abdominal muscle. She was trying to get him to forget about her negligence, but he had trouble doing that. The truth was, April really did benefit from those study sessions. She had told him at length about how much trouble she had had in her science classes before she joined the group. She had also mentioned that in the last week or so, her grades had begun slipping again. Kevin knew April could get lazy if she didn’t have someone reminding her of her priorities. Usually, that was easy to do. But this time she wasn’t listening.

As she cooed and rubbed her face in his tummy, Kevin came to a decision.

“April,” he sat up, ignoring her protests as he pulled his body out of her reach, “you‘re going to the next session.”

“Okay. Gee, what‘s the big deal?”

“You said that last time, babe.”

“Whatever. I will.”

Kevin shook his head.

“I don‘t think you mean that.”

She shrugged and reached for his crotch. Her hand never made it there.

Like liquid steel, Kevin sat up and planted his feet on the floor. April looked shocked at this sudden movement, but not nearly as much as when he grabbed her by the torso and hoisted her forward over his lap.

“Hey!” April squealed, “Kev, what are you doing?”

Kevin didn’t answer. Instead, he used one big, strong hand to push April’s back down, making her lie across his thighs. He felt her soft, lower belly rub against his semi-erect penis as she tried in vain to get up; the feeling was electric. However, that wasn’t the point here. Keeping her pinned over his muscular legs, Kevin lowered his other hand to her wide, frantically jiggling buttocks and let them rest on the left cheek. He marveled for the thousandth time at April’s fat, perfectly round and pronounced booty. The redness from Sara’s earlier mistreatment was long gone, leaving it pale white and begging for more color. And she was acting like a lazy little kid. It was a combination that worked to Kevin’s satisfaction.

“Kev, this isn‘t funny! Just let me-”

SLAP!

“OW!”

Kevin’s hard hand blasted into April’s bottom, burning a pale pink handprint against her white flesh.

“Ow! That hurt! Are you crazy? Stop-”

SLAP!

April’s other cheek was spanked, making her squeak and struggle harder. For a moment, Kevin considered stopping. She was a grown woman…wasn’t this abuse? On the other hand, she clearly didn’t much object to Sara’s frequent attentions…and the images Sara had burned into his mind earlier that day had had a profound effect on him. April was a girl who got spanked. Now that he knew that, it subtly changed his perception of her. It just made too much sense.

SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!

“OW! OOH! OW!”

She kicked her chubby legs frantically, her hips scissoring back and forth along his thighs. Fortunately, Kevin knew how to deal with this. He had been disciplined in this manner himself during his childhood, and he remembered what his father had done when he put up too much of a fight. Grabbing his struggling girlfriend by the waist and leaning his great bulk down on her, he pulled one leg out from under her and, using an arm, held her thighs down as he put it over her.

“Did Sara put you up to this?! That fucking bitch! No, let me go, you can‘t do this, I‘ll call the cops! I‘ll-”

Kevin now had one dark, well-toned leg over her fleshy thighs and one under her naked waist.putting his left hand on her back again, he returned his attention to her behind. It was cupped against his restraining thigh, its enormous, soft mass sticking teasingly up in the air. It kept wobbling and jiggling as she struggled to get away, making it even harder for Kevin to keep his eyes off those creamy mounds. He lost no time in getting back to work.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Kevin’s hands were much bigger than Sara, and he was stronger as well. Every time his palm exploded against her helpless cheeks, April felt like she had sat on hot coals. One of the things she had been physically attracted to in Kevin was his strong hands…she was regretting that now.

SLAP! WHACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Each impact was loud, jarring, and elicited an anguished yelp from April. Kevin was entranced by the feeling of her vibrating flesh under his descending palm, leaving his hand on her ass for a second after each smack to grope and fondle it. But he didn’t go too slow.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Unlike Sara, Kevin didn’t alternate cheeks. He just let his hand burn one stinging rump cheek on and on for ten to fifteen slaps before changing, quickly bringing the other buttock to the same level of redness as its twin. As the spanking went on, April mewling and struggling helplessly against his legs, he began to lecture.

“Babe, you know you have to go to these things.”

His language was tender, though his voice was strict. As he talked, his hand kept beating away at her flesh without breaking pace. He was a basketball player; talking and dribbling at the same time was easy for him.

“Ow! You‘re a fucking psycho, let me-OW!”

He smacked her extra hard, his splayed, inflexible fingers landing on both cheeks at once. April’s ass was already much redder than it had been at the end of Sara’s punishment, with lines of sore crimson outlining the shape of Kevin’s hand.

“I want to make sure you do good.”

SMACK! SMACK!

April couldn’t speak coherently anymore; anytime she tried to open her mouth, the impact of Kevin’s hand forced her to cry out instead. She couldn’t believe this! It was bad enough that Sara had appointed herself disciplinarian, but now Kevin too? And yet…

And yet, being spanked by Kevin was different. Kevin’s strength and overpowering masculinity was something April loved about him. She liked feeling how much bigger and stronger than her he was when he carried her over his shoulder or took her forcefully from behind. She had thought about being spanked for pleasure before; she had even been willing to subject herself to it, when she was still chasing Stan. The pain was fiery and intense, but she could feel her body reacting to it in ways that didn’t make sense. Her tummy was tingling the way it did when he kissed her or nibbled at her neck. Below the searing pain of his chastisement, she thought she felt…aroused?

As April took in the feeling of his smooth thighs beneath her and his now rock-hard cock pushing against her belly, she stopped struggling as much. She wasn’t going to just give up and let him beat her ass with ease, but her heart was no longer completely in her escape attempts. And really, she should be going to her study groups, and this would certainly remind her to attend the next one. Maybe this would actually be helpful, in some weird way?

As April’s screams and cries lowered to a series of whimpers and soft “oh!”’s, Kevin decided to pick up the pace. On one hand, he knew his arm was stronger than Sara’s, and that April’s bum was already well reddened. On the other, he hadn’t been spanking as fast as Sara did, and he wanted to give that a try. Having gotten his fill of fondling, he stopped resting his hand between strokes, doubling his pace without decreasing the force.

SMACKSMACKSMACKSMACKSMACK!!!!

April’s body twitched and slithered every which way between his clamped legs, her writhing pressing his penis irregularly into the bed sheets on which he sat. Oh god, this felt great! He thought he had worshipped his girlfriend’s magnificent rump every way that a guy could, but this was something else. The bouncing and shivering of her rear flesh grew more exaggerated as he spanked her faster, captivating his senses of sight and touch as her dismayed cries massaged his hearing. Haha, he imagined trying to explain this situation to someone else. “Yo Kev, what‘s up?” “Giving my girlfriend a spanking.” "Kay, later bro." It was really a pretty ridiculous situation.

It didn’t seem ridiculous for poor April, though. The pain in her hindquarters had passed the breaking point into numbness, and he was now starting back at the beginning in bringing the agony back into her abused cheeks. The vibrations from his smacks made it all the way through her body, reaching her lush, wimpering lips and quickly tearing eyes. This colossus of manhood had taken control of her, and was having his way. She felt a warm wetness between her upper thighs as she wriggled reflexively under his abuse. Yes. Spank me. I’ve been naughty. Come on, whip my butt, make me sorry! She tried to shake these thoughts out of her head, but it was like trying to deny an emotion. Despite her best efforts, she felt her bottom push itself up against his thigh, trying to stick itself further out into harm’s way.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

“Ow! Oooh! Ahhh... Ow!”

The pain had broken through the numbness again, setting her rear once again on fire. The pain went all the way through her waist to her crotch, where it took the form of pleasure. She felt her thighs and Kevin’s under her get wetter as the spanking continued. Stop now, that’s enough, I’m ready for you! But the smacks kept coming down. The act of spanking April, and her reactions to it, had captivated Kevin in a kind of trance.

Twenty smacks later, he finally stopped. April’s ass was like a ripe cranberry, burned all the way across its considerable surface by Kevin‘s right hand. His hand stung from the seventy or eighty hard slaps he had delivered. April was wriggling and gasping like a fish out of water; Kevin had spanked her as hard as Sara’s worst. But she wasn’t angry at him. He had purged those resistant feelings out of her. She was just…ready.

“I love you, baby,” said Kevin, lifting his thigh off of hers.

April sniffed, blinking two more tears out of her eyes.

“Mmmm…oh god Kev,” she shakily pushed herself up with her arms and turned her tear-stained face to his, “fuck me. Right now!”

Grabbing her around the waist, he pushed her down on her back, relishing her yelp as he put her weight on her ravaged arse, and climbed over her. Helped by one of his hands and one of hers, he forced his cock into her own very wet vagina, penetrating her female center for the second time that day.

He spared no energy in working himself in and out of her as he grabbed her peach-sized tits and kissed her parched lips. April was torn between pain and pleasure as he pounded his engine of delight into her tight, eager vagina while pressing his great weight down on her tortured bum. She thrashed in pain and tried to take the weight off her roasted ass, but he wouldn't let her. He kept pumping down through her body and onto her sit spots, compressing agony and pleasure into one, nameless sensation. She gasped. Panted. Cried. Moaned. Waves of orgasmic energy crackled through her body like lightning, temporary banishing the pain as they painted a flush in her cheeks that almost rivaled the one in her bottom. By the time she felt his warm fluids explode inside of her, she had lost track of how many times she had came.

Kevin pulled out of her, letting her sore vagina recover from its heavy burden. After they had both rested a bit, he bent wordlessly over her parted legs and used his tongue to ease her aching privates. April flipped over on her stomach, taking the weight off her crimson ass and offering it too for Kevin’s ministrations. For ten minutes, he worked his tongue in and around her vagina and over and under her sizzling ass cheeks, bringing her to a mild orgasm once more by the time he was done.

“You‘ll go to your group on Monday?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know what‘ll happen if you don‘t?”

“Uh…yeah.”

Kevin nodded, pulling her against him and gently rubbing her very sore ass. As they lay there together, Kevin’s phone rang.

“Yo, its Stan. You guys coming up for Dexter?”

Kevin looked at April. She was already falling asleep. Come to think of it, so was he.

“Nah,” he said, “we‘re tired.”

“Mmkay. Catch you tomorrow.”

…

Back in Sara’s room, Stan put the phone back on the bedside table.

“He says they‘re tired.”

Sara smirked.

“Oh shit, does that mean we’re playing the game again?”

“Ten whenever someone dies. Fifteen when he jokes about it at work.”

“Goddamnit.”

Stan lay over Sara’s lap, putting his already red and sore ass at her mercy. Goddamn Kevin and April. They had no idea…