-----BEGIN PGP SIGNED MESSAGE----- Hash: SHA1 All Wet Copyright (c) 2002 by Don A. Landhill (All rights reserved. Do not reproduce, repost, copy or transmit this story in any way without permission from the author.) (This story was originally posted in connection with the 2002 soc.sexuality.spanking short story contest.) - ------------------------------ It was raining in Los Angeles. Pouring, actually. It was a sudden cloudburst, and she hadn't expected it, nor listened to the forecast. She came out of the staff meeting and saw the rain hammering against the sealed glass. Briefly she just looked out at the rain, then she was off, heading for the lot at top speed. It was already too late - the inside of the car was drenched. She closed the windows and the sunroof anyway, hoping that it would dry out, no harm would be done. She hurried back to work. At six-thirty, the inside of the car was still very wet, and quite musty. She drove home, then wiped everything off and sprayed freshener, hoping that everything would still be all right. He got home at seven-thirty. "Corey, did you drive the car today?" "No, Scott, you grounded me from the car for a week, remember?" "I remember, but I wondered if you did. If you didn't use it, I wonder how it got so musty, and how the library book on the back seat became a mass of curled pages? While all the doors and windows were shut, and the car was in the garage?" "Uh. Scott." "The truth, Corey, right away. Don't get yourself in any deeper, Missy." "Well, Scott, I was running late, and you know how poor the bus service is here. I'd missed the 8:15,and I would never have been on time for my meeting, so I, well, drove. And then the rain caught me with the windows open. But I came straight home, and cleaned up everything as a well as I could. I didn't use the car for anything but going to work, honest I didn't, and-" His face got more and more stern as she babbled. When he spoke, he was cold and terse. "Corner. Now. Bottom bare. Hands folded in front, mouth shut." "But Scott, please-" "Now!" {Smack} She ran. A half-hour later, he hauled her out by the ear, and bent her over the pillow on the footboard of the bed. {Swish-Crack!} His belt landed on her bare bottom, over and over. While he strapped her, he scolded her: for breaking her grounding, for being careless with the rain, and above all, for lying to him. Lying, to him, was the worst of all, and she knew it. Finally he stopped. "All right. No car for TWO weeks, starting tomorrow. No visitors or social outings. Probation: any screw-up and I get out the paddle - or the belt. Nothing like this will ever happen again." "Yes, Sir. It won't." "Corey, I love you, but I won't put up with misbehavior, and I won't tolerate lies. Don't make me punish you." They hugged, lovingly." Later, she lay awake, thinking. Spankings hurt, and she hated restrictions, but it was good to know that someone cared. She never knew that more than when she was being punished. It was the best of times; it was the worst of times. - -D.A.L. June 2002 -----BEGIN PGP SIGNATURE----- Version: PGPfreeware 6.5.8 for non-commercial use <http://www.pgp.com> iQA/AwUBPd5G5UA9ED4O4pfAEQLVEQCfVX6p7VKtTwWS7znSWx7dkSjNxpoAoKR0 AdhK233l0pHjGdcZW0N4jVVE =Uypm -----END PGP SIGNATURE-----