So...what is Spank or Treat? It's Trick or Treating for Adults. Instead of running from house to house with a pillow case full of candy, you can click from blog to blog and read complete Halloween short stories (not excerpts) form all your favorite Spanking Fiction Authors.
And, if that wasn't enough, there are prizes!
- A $50 gift certificate to Blushing Books (donated by the same)
- A $25 gift certificate Eden’s Fantasies (donated by Starla Kaye)
- A $10 Amazon gift certificate (donated by Stormy Night Publications)
In addition, three books will be available for Free! My book, Underwear Probation is available for free download on Amazon October 28-31. Please spread the word!
- Traditional Love by Alta Hensley
- To Love a Woman by Jade Cary
Enter “spankortreat” as a promotional code to purchase free at Lazy Day (October 29-31)
I'm giving away a $10 Amazon gift card to a random commenter who leaves a comment, including their email address, and answers this question: If you had magical powers, what is the first thing you would do?
To join the fun:
Visit each blog between October 29 and October 31 to read the free Halloween spanking stories.
Post a comment answering the story question on each blog. Then visit Anastasia Vitsky’s sign up page to enter the prize drawing. Deadline is midnight EST (UCT-4) October 31, 2012.
Winners’ names will be selected by random drawing and posted on any of the participating blogs after the contest ends.
Ok...now it's time for my story. The Assignment is part of my short story collection, The Long Arm of the Law. I hope you enjoy it!
The End
Don't forget to leave a comment telling me what you'd do first if you had magical powers to be entered in my drawing.
Ready for more stories? Visit all the participating blogs.
Anastasia Vitsky
Cara Bristol Claire Colinsgrove
Constance Masters Emma K. Gardner
Patty Devlin Renee Rose
Rollin Starla Kaye
Sue Lyndon
Ok...now it's time for my story. The Assignment is part of my short story collection, The Long Arm of the Law. I hope you enjoy it!
The
Assignment
(c)
Celeste Jones 2012
Mars
Bars, Three Musketeers, Reese's Cups, Twizzlers, Snickers Bars, Milk Duds, Twix
Bars, Hershey Bars. Wendy stood in the candy aisle of the supermarket; her head
swimming with the possibilities that surrounded her. As much as she hated the
idea of passing out such sweet treats to the brats who would be ringing her
doorbell that night, she decided to at least get something that she liked, so
she tossed a bag of Reese's Cups into her cart along with the bag of cheap
stuff to pass out to the neighborhood kiddies.
Wendy finished her shopping and headed for the checkout counter. As usual, the line was long, and the cashier was borderline incompetent. If the last eighteen months had taught Wendy anything, they had taught her patience. She sighed, gripped the handle of her cart, and waited.
The cart ahead of her contained a little dark haired girl who appeared to be about six. Her face was smeared with chocolate from the bag of candy that her exasperated mother had finally opened to shut the child up. She smiled, and Wendy saw that her teeth were covered with brown Hershey sludge.
The cashier handed the girl's mother her receipt and handed the chocolate smeared waif a sucker. "What are you going to be for Halloween?" she asked.
The tot grinned, and a trail of chocolate-laced saliva dribbled out the side of her mouth. "An ugly, nasty, old witch!" she exclaimed.
The cashier grinned back. "Nasty old witches are the best. They are so scary and mean. I'm sure you'll have lots of fun and gets lots of candy."
The child seemed pleased by this prediction and attacked the bag of chocolate with glee as the cart headed to the parking lot.
Wendy's stomach knotted, and the fingers on her right hand began to twitch. She squeezed the handle of the cart until her knuckles were white and reminded herself of the oath that she had sworn when she took this assignment----No Magic----then she placed her items on the check-out counter.
********************
Wendy drove home, cursing herself for agreeing to take the two-year assignment to mix and mingle in the mortal world. She and her husband, Charles, had been agents with The Mortal Outreach Bureau (The MOB) for several years and had been thrilled when they were selected for this mission. It was quite an honor, and they were both very excited about this once in a lifetime opportunity. It seemed simple enough. They were to live among the mortals for two years, learn as much as they could about the mortal way of life, and most importantly, no magic.
Overall, it really had not been all that bad. They had certainly learned a lot of new skills like vacuuming and cleaning the gutters, though Wendy was unsure how that knowledge would be of any use to The MOB. Part of their assignment was to participate in every activity that they could find. At times, it had been exhausting. Between them, Wendy and Charles had been to PTA meetings, soccer games, book club meetings, bake sales, a Bar Mitzvah, a Tupperware party, two strip bars, eight casinos, a bachelor party, and a dog show, among other things. They had joined the Masons, the Lions Club, the National Rifle Association, and the Hair Club for Men. Wendy and Charles each had notebooks filled with descriptions of their outings along with maps, newspaper clippings, appliance warranties, and a couple of good crock pot recipes.
She tried to shake off the grocery store incident, but she couldn't. Wendy had been in a foul mood all day, and she knew why. It had started that morning at breakfast.
"I'm sorry, Sweetie, but I have to work late tonight. You'll have to be in charge of passing out the Halloween candy." Charles knew his early morning announcement was not going to go over very well with his wife.
"Oh, Charles. Tonight?" Wendy whined. "You know I've been dreading this ever since last Halloween. I just don't think I can stand to pass out the candy again this year."
"I know this is upsetting for you, Wendy. And I'm really sorry." Charles pulled his wife down onto his lap and stroked the soft blonde hair that streamed down her back. "But, you'll be fine. It's been a whole year, and maybe it won't be as bad this time."
Wendy focused her sad blue eyes on her husband. "Halloween used to be my favorite holiday. Remember the fun we used to have at the Baron's Costume Ball? This assignment has ruined this holiday for me." Wendy stood up and paced the room. "I just get so tired of being stereotyped. Honestly, Charles, have you ever seen a witch with green skin? Or a wart on her nose? Or gray scraggly hair? Admittedly, my Aunt Ernestine is starting to look a bit that way, but she's two hundred and twelve, so what can you expect?" Wendy returned to the topic. "Regardless, it's just too much for me to listen to all of them talking about mean, ugly witches." She stopped her pacing and looked at her husband. "I just want to scream at them. It's just not fair, and I take it all very personally."
Wendy finished her shopping and headed for the checkout counter. As usual, the line was long, and the cashier was borderline incompetent. If the last eighteen months had taught Wendy anything, they had taught her patience. She sighed, gripped the handle of her cart, and waited.
The cart ahead of her contained a little dark haired girl who appeared to be about six. Her face was smeared with chocolate from the bag of candy that her exasperated mother had finally opened to shut the child up. She smiled, and Wendy saw that her teeth were covered with brown Hershey sludge.
The cashier handed the girl's mother her receipt and handed the chocolate smeared waif a sucker. "What are you going to be for Halloween?" she asked.
The tot grinned, and a trail of chocolate-laced saliva dribbled out the side of her mouth. "An ugly, nasty, old witch!" she exclaimed.
The cashier grinned back. "Nasty old witches are the best. They are so scary and mean. I'm sure you'll have lots of fun and gets lots of candy."
The child seemed pleased by this prediction and attacked the bag of chocolate with glee as the cart headed to the parking lot.
Wendy's stomach knotted, and the fingers on her right hand began to twitch. She squeezed the handle of the cart until her knuckles were white and reminded herself of the oath that she had sworn when she took this assignment----No Magic----then she placed her items on the check-out counter.
********************
Wendy drove home, cursing herself for agreeing to take the two-year assignment to mix and mingle in the mortal world. She and her husband, Charles, had been agents with The Mortal Outreach Bureau (The MOB) for several years and had been thrilled when they were selected for this mission. It was quite an honor, and they were both very excited about this once in a lifetime opportunity. It seemed simple enough. They were to live among the mortals for two years, learn as much as they could about the mortal way of life, and most importantly, no magic.
Overall, it really had not been all that bad. They had certainly learned a lot of new skills like vacuuming and cleaning the gutters, though Wendy was unsure how that knowledge would be of any use to The MOB. Part of their assignment was to participate in every activity that they could find. At times, it had been exhausting. Between them, Wendy and Charles had been to PTA meetings, soccer games, book club meetings, bake sales, a Bar Mitzvah, a Tupperware party, two strip bars, eight casinos, a bachelor party, and a dog show, among other things. They had joined the Masons, the Lions Club, the National Rifle Association, and the Hair Club for Men. Wendy and Charles each had notebooks filled with descriptions of their outings along with maps, newspaper clippings, appliance warranties, and a couple of good crock pot recipes.
She tried to shake off the grocery store incident, but she couldn't. Wendy had been in a foul mood all day, and she knew why. It had started that morning at breakfast.
"I'm sorry, Sweetie, but I have to work late tonight. You'll have to be in charge of passing out the Halloween candy." Charles knew his early morning announcement was not going to go over very well with his wife.
"Oh, Charles. Tonight?" Wendy whined. "You know I've been dreading this ever since last Halloween. I just don't think I can stand to pass out the candy again this year."
"I know this is upsetting for you, Wendy. And I'm really sorry." Charles pulled his wife down onto his lap and stroked the soft blonde hair that streamed down her back. "But, you'll be fine. It's been a whole year, and maybe it won't be as bad this time."
Wendy focused her sad blue eyes on her husband. "Halloween used to be my favorite holiday. Remember the fun we used to have at the Baron's Costume Ball? This assignment has ruined this holiday for me." Wendy stood up and paced the room. "I just get so tired of being stereotyped. Honestly, Charles, have you ever seen a witch with green skin? Or a wart on her nose? Or gray scraggly hair? Admittedly, my Aunt Ernestine is starting to look a bit that way, but she's two hundred and twelve, so what can you expect?" Wendy returned to the topic. "Regardless, it's just too much for me to listen to all of them talking about mean, ugly witches." She stopped her pacing and looked at her husband. "I just want to scream at them. It's just not fair, and I take it all very personally."
Charles
crossed the kitchen and wrapped his wife in his arms. "You know they don't
know any better, Darling. Please don't take it to heart." He pressed a
kiss onto the top of her head. "You're the most beautiful witch I know.
You're also the most dedicated member of The MOB that I know, and that's why
I'm sure that you'll be able to handle tonight without me." Charles tipped
Wendy's head back and gave her a kiss that made her head swim.
Wendy wound her arms around her husband's neck and returned his kiss with matching fervor. She moaned her disappointment when Charles pulled away. "I really must leave…though I'd much rather stay here with you. I watched an interesting movie the other night that included making love on the kitchen table. Surely, it must be our duty to investigate the stability of Formica so that we can report back to The MOB." Charles smiled mischievously at his wife.
"Well, I do think that it's important to be thorough in our research," Wendy responded with a grin. "Too bad you won't be home in time to try it out before dinner."
Hours later, Wendy was still annoyed about Halloween. Wendy set the groceries on the kitchen table and remembered that morning's conversation. Resigned to the fact that she would have to deal with the trick or treaters herself, she headed upstairs to get ready.
**************
Wendy smiled at her reflection in the hallway mirror. If she didn't know any better, she'd think she was on her way to the Baron's Costume Ball rather than standing in a house in the middle of suburbia waiting for a bunch of sugar-crazed trick or treaters. Her hair fell in a cascade of golden ringlets down her back. Her dress was a glorious creation of shimmering, iridescent, gold satin. It was actually two pieces: a fitted corset that created creamy mounds of cleavage and then tapered to a tiny waistline and a full skirt that gathered at the waist and fell in shiny folds to the floor.
To complete the look, Wendy found the wand that she had made for Halloween a year ago. She used a yardstick and a cut out star then she spray painted the whole thing gold and sprinkled it with glitter. She gave it a couple of practice waves in the air and then had a Reese's Cup from the bowl on the coffee table. She wasn't going to waste the good stuff on kids. Then she looked out the front door: two ghosts and a cheerleader. They seemed harmless enough. Wendy picked up the bowl of cheap Halloween candy and opened the door.
"Trick or treat!" the cheerleader shouted and waived her pom poms. The ghosts mumbled something, which Wendy assumed, was "trick or treat" but it was hard to really hear them with the sheets over their heads. Wendy dropped candy into their bags, and they ran through her yard to the Petersons’ next door.
Well, that was easy enough, Wendy told herself. Maybe this won't be so bad after all.
Wrong. Wendy looked down the driveway and saw three witches headed toward her front door. They all wore long black robes, pointy black hats, and snarly gray wigs. All three had their faces painted green, and the oldest had a big wart on her nose and a nasty, oozy scar on her cheek. Wendy took a deep breath and composed herself before she opened the door.
The youngest witch stopped and stared at Wendy. "You're beautiful," she said in a hushed tone.
Wendy smiled down at her. "Why thank you. Can you guess who I am?"
"You must be a princess," the youngest witch answered. "Only a princess could be so pretty and wear such a beautiful gown."
"No, not a princess," Wendy felt her pulse start to quicken with annoyance, particularly since she knew a couple of princesses who were far from pretty and were certainly not sharp dressers.
"Then you must be a fairy," the middle sized witch said.
"No, not a fairy either," Wendy responded. "In fact, did you know that most fairies are really quite mean?"
"That's not true," the oldest witch said with authority. "Everyone knows that fairies are sweet and kind and very playful. So, who are you?"
Wendy stared at the scar-faced child and said evenly "I am a witch."
"You can't be a witch," the oldest girl assumed a bossy tone. "We're witches. Witches are ugly and wear raggedy clothes. Witches don't have blonde curly hair, and they don't wear beautiful gowns."
Wendy felt her fingertips itch with an urge to flick a spell on the impudent little brats on her front porch. Turning them into a trio of garden gnomes was very tempting. But, Wendy restrained herself and calmly tossed some black licorice drops into their bags.
"Black licorice? Yuck. We want some good stuff," the oldest witch surprised Wendy with her rudeness. "How about some of those Reese's Cups in that other bowl? What's the matter? Are you hogging those all for yourself?"
Wendy stared into the impudent child's eyes. "I've given you candy; now it's time for you to go to the next house." Apparently, the little witch sisters were not used to being spoken to with such authority because they each looked taken aback by Wendy's tone.
The oldest sister paused for a moment, then said to her siblings, "Let's get going. This house sucks anyway." And with that, the three little witch sisters turned and headed down the sidewalk.
Wendy nearly made it, but it was just too much for her. Before she knew what she was doing, the fingers of her right hand gave a quick flip and a snap and the three witches went tumbling across the lawn. Hats, wigs, and candy scattered in the breeze. Wendy stifled a laugh as she watched them chase after their belongings. The two younger sisters were more concerned with their wigs and hats, while the older sister was on her hands and knees in the yard collecting the spilled candy. Wendy noticed that she put all the good stuff into her own bag and put the licorice drops into her sisters' bags.
In all of the commotion, Wendy had not seen Charles' car pull into the driveway, so she was stunned when she saw him walk into the yard and help the girls with their costumes and candy. Wendy saw the patient way he helped them replace their wigs and hats and even tied the youngest sister's shoe. He did not look so kind and gentle, however, when he turned toward the front door.
Wendy had a sick feeling in her stomach but tried to mask it with cheerfulness. "Oh, Charles, I'm so glad that you're home," she kissed her husband and pressed her skirted lowed body against his loins. "Maybe we have time to try out that kitchen table experiment that you mentioned this morning."
"That certainly does sound appealing," Charles' eyes wandered lazily over his wife's golden clad body. "You do look very beautiful tonight, my sweet."
Wendy felt a small sense of relief. Clearly, she had distracted Charles from the trick or treaters.
"But, it appears that there are some other matters to be addressed first." Wendy's relief disappeared.
"W-what do you mean?" Wendy tried to keep her voice light and innocent.
"Wendy, the sweet and innocent thing isn't going to work with me. You should know better than that." Charles gave his wife a stern look then turned to answer the door. He dispatched a pirate, a hobo, and a football player with generous helpings from the Reese's Cup bowl then returned his attention to his errant witch of a wife.
"Trick or treating will be over soon. I'll take over here. I want you to go upstairs and wait for me. You know what to do."
Yes, Wendy did know what to do, and she wasn't happy about it one bit. She plodded slowly up the staircase, berating herself for her foolishness. It was stupid of her to use magic on those little witches. Wendy knew that now.
She went into the bedroom and stood in the corner near the closet. While she stood there, she chastised herself for ever telling Charles about the conversation that she'd overheard at a Tupperware party. She'd been eavesdropping on a variety of conversations that night when she overheard two sisters whispering about the spankings their husbands had given them the night before. She learned that many mortals viewed this practice as a way of maintaining peace and harmony in their homes. She explained what she'd learned to Charles when she got home that night. Three days later, when she wrecked the car while putting on makeup, they put what they'd learned into practice.
Wendy had a feeling that tonight's transgression was worse than a scrunched bumper. Waves of anxiety crashed in her stomach as she waited for Charles' footsteps in the hall.
Finally, the bedroom door opened. Wendy knew better than to look. She continued to stare at the wall in front of her and listened while Charles closed the door behind him and walked across the room. She heard the bed creak with his weight. "Come here, please, Wendy."
Wendy slowly turned from the corner. Her long skirt rustled in the silent room as she crossed to the bed where her husband sat. Wendy kept her eyes downcast. She really was ashamed of herself.
Charles held both of her hands in his and looked up at his wife. Blonde ringlets fell forward across her breasts as she hung her head.
"What you did tonight was very serious." Charles' voice was calm, but Wendy recognized the steely determination beneath his tone. "You could have compromised our whole assignment, not to mention our futures with The MOB, by using magic tonight." Wendy shivered with the realization, and Charles slid his hands up her arms to warm her. "I know how much you hate Halloween here, and I rushed home as quickly as I could to try to relieve you of as much of it as I could. And then I pulled into the driveway just in time to watch your hand flick just before those little witches went rolling across the lawn."
Charles squeezed his wife's arms, and she looked at him. "Those little girls could have been hurt."
"I know." Wendy felt a stab of shame at the realization that she had used magic, and broken her word, for such a petty reason.
Charles' hands were at his wife's waist. Wendy's stomach tightened as she felt them slide around her waist to the back closure of her skirt. Deft fingers unlatched the hook and slid the zipper down. Charles eased the full skirt to the floor, and Wendy stepped out of it. Charles laid the fluffy garment across the footboard of the bed and then returned his attention to his half-dressed wife. He slid his fingers into the waistband of her panties, and Wendy felt a small trill of excitement as his fingers whispered across the delicate flesh of her stomach. The panties were lowered to just above her knees, and Wendy stood before her husband, knowing what was coming, but still filled with uncertainty.
Charles slid back on the bed and pulled his wife across his lap. "I know that this hasn't been a very good day for you, Sweetie, and I'm sorry to make things worse, but I just don't think that I have any choice. Do you?"
Wendy's forlorn eyes looked over her left shoulder at her husband. "No, you don’t. I was childish and selfish, and I took a foolish risk. Not only that," Wendy felt her throat tighten with emotions, "but I put your career and your future at risk too. I had no right to do that."
Wendy buried her face in the comforter of the bed and braced herself by clenching her hands into the downy fabric. She wiggled herself into position across her husband's lap and waited for the first crack of his palm across her buns. In fact, a part of her looked forward to the release that a good spanking would bring. She'd know that she'd paid for her poor behavior and wouldn't need to feel guilty about it.
Charles prolonged his wife's waiting by slowly running the fingers of his right hand over the tender flesh of her backside. Wendy felt goosebumps break out across her hide along with a faint warm tingle in her girly parts.
The tingle was replaced with a sudden sting of pain as Charles' hand came down on her right cheek. Wendy inhaled sharply and waited for the rest of the punishment that she knew she had earned with her poor judgment.
Charles did not appear to be in any hurry. Rather than peppering her behind with rapid swats as he usually did, this time, he was taking his time and pausing after each crack to her butt. Wendy couldn't decide which was worse, the pain of his hand striking her tender derriere or the waiting for the next smack on her flesh.
The pauses between swats made it possible for Wendy to "appreciate" each one. She felt the sting against her cheeks when his hand hit its target, then she felt the heat from the impact as it spread across her rump. Sort of a double whammy on her fanny.
Even at this slower than usual pace, within just a few minutes, Wendy knew without looking that her backside was scarlet from cheek to cheek and from stem to stern. Just when she thought that he must be finished with her, he started in on her thighs. Oh, the sting. Wendy felt her fingers itch to flick a pillow across her rump, but she squelched the impulse. That certainly would not help the situation at all.
Finally, she felt her husband's gentle hands pull her up to sit on his lap. She pressed her tired forehead into his neck and sobbed out an apology.
"Shhh. It's all done now," Charles stroked his wife's curls back from her face and kissed away the tears on her cheeks. "You were very brave and took your punishment like a good girl. I know that parts of this assignment have been very hard for you. It's hard to be away from everything that's familiar and to try to live in a world that is so different from our own." Charles ran his index finger across Wendy's jaw and down her throat. His finger feathered across her collarbone and down into the shadow of her cleavage before he continued, "Let's put this behind us now." Wendy gave a weak smile at his inadvertent joke.
Charles' hand skimmed down his wife's leg and removed the last wisp of her panties. He reached behind her back to unhook the golden camisole and placed the other half of Wendy's outfit on top of the previously discarded skirt. Then Charles ran a lazy finger from the pulse beating at the base of his wife's throat to the rosy peak of her left breast. Wendy's nipple flowered against his fingertip, and she leaned into his touch with a soft moan.
Wendy clasped her hands around her husband's neck as he stood with her cradled in his arms. She expected him to lay her across the large bed so she was surprised when he headed toward the door. But, when he carried her into the kitchen, she knew what he had in mind.
The cool Formica felt good against the heat of Wendy's rump, and she reached out to help her husband remove his clothes. Charles gently laid his wife back against the kitchen table, his warm breath caressed her ear and he said, "Let's make some magic the old fashioned way."
Wendy wound her arms around her husband's neck and returned his kiss with matching fervor. She moaned her disappointment when Charles pulled away. "I really must leave…though I'd much rather stay here with you. I watched an interesting movie the other night that included making love on the kitchen table. Surely, it must be our duty to investigate the stability of Formica so that we can report back to The MOB." Charles smiled mischievously at his wife.
"Well, I do think that it's important to be thorough in our research," Wendy responded with a grin. "Too bad you won't be home in time to try it out before dinner."
Hours later, Wendy was still annoyed about Halloween. Wendy set the groceries on the kitchen table and remembered that morning's conversation. Resigned to the fact that she would have to deal with the trick or treaters herself, she headed upstairs to get ready.
**************
Wendy smiled at her reflection in the hallway mirror. If she didn't know any better, she'd think she was on her way to the Baron's Costume Ball rather than standing in a house in the middle of suburbia waiting for a bunch of sugar-crazed trick or treaters. Her hair fell in a cascade of golden ringlets down her back. Her dress was a glorious creation of shimmering, iridescent, gold satin. It was actually two pieces: a fitted corset that created creamy mounds of cleavage and then tapered to a tiny waistline and a full skirt that gathered at the waist and fell in shiny folds to the floor.
To complete the look, Wendy found the wand that she had made for Halloween a year ago. She used a yardstick and a cut out star then she spray painted the whole thing gold and sprinkled it with glitter. She gave it a couple of practice waves in the air and then had a Reese's Cup from the bowl on the coffee table. She wasn't going to waste the good stuff on kids. Then she looked out the front door: two ghosts and a cheerleader. They seemed harmless enough. Wendy picked up the bowl of cheap Halloween candy and opened the door.
"Trick or treat!" the cheerleader shouted and waived her pom poms. The ghosts mumbled something, which Wendy assumed, was "trick or treat" but it was hard to really hear them with the sheets over their heads. Wendy dropped candy into their bags, and they ran through her yard to the Petersons’ next door.
Well, that was easy enough, Wendy told herself. Maybe this won't be so bad after all.
Wrong. Wendy looked down the driveway and saw three witches headed toward her front door. They all wore long black robes, pointy black hats, and snarly gray wigs. All three had their faces painted green, and the oldest had a big wart on her nose and a nasty, oozy scar on her cheek. Wendy took a deep breath and composed herself before she opened the door.
The youngest witch stopped and stared at Wendy. "You're beautiful," she said in a hushed tone.
Wendy smiled down at her. "Why thank you. Can you guess who I am?"
"You must be a princess," the youngest witch answered. "Only a princess could be so pretty and wear such a beautiful gown."
"No, not a princess," Wendy felt her pulse start to quicken with annoyance, particularly since she knew a couple of princesses who were far from pretty and were certainly not sharp dressers.
"Then you must be a fairy," the middle sized witch said.
"No, not a fairy either," Wendy responded. "In fact, did you know that most fairies are really quite mean?"
"That's not true," the oldest witch said with authority. "Everyone knows that fairies are sweet and kind and very playful. So, who are you?"
Wendy stared at the scar-faced child and said evenly "I am a witch."
"You can't be a witch," the oldest girl assumed a bossy tone. "We're witches. Witches are ugly and wear raggedy clothes. Witches don't have blonde curly hair, and they don't wear beautiful gowns."
Wendy felt her fingertips itch with an urge to flick a spell on the impudent little brats on her front porch. Turning them into a trio of garden gnomes was very tempting. But, Wendy restrained herself and calmly tossed some black licorice drops into their bags.
"Black licorice? Yuck. We want some good stuff," the oldest witch surprised Wendy with her rudeness. "How about some of those Reese's Cups in that other bowl? What's the matter? Are you hogging those all for yourself?"
Wendy stared into the impudent child's eyes. "I've given you candy; now it's time for you to go to the next house." Apparently, the little witch sisters were not used to being spoken to with such authority because they each looked taken aback by Wendy's tone.
The oldest sister paused for a moment, then said to her siblings, "Let's get going. This house sucks anyway." And with that, the three little witch sisters turned and headed down the sidewalk.
Wendy nearly made it, but it was just too much for her. Before she knew what she was doing, the fingers of her right hand gave a quick flip and a snap and the three witches went tumbling across the lawn. Hats, wigs, and candy scattered in the breeze. Wendy stifled a laugh as she watched them chase after their belongings. The two younger sisters were more concerned with their wigs and hats, while the older sister was on her hands and knees in the yard collecting the spilled candy. Wendy noticed that she put all the good stuff into her own bag and put the licorice drops into her sisters' bags.
In all of the commotion, Wendy had not seen Charles' car pull into the driveway, so she was stunned when she saw him walk into the yard and help the girls with their costumes and candy. Wendy saw the patient way he helped them replace their wigs and hats and even tied the youngest sister's shoe. He did not look so kind and gentle, however, when he turned toward the front door.
Wendy had a sick feeling in her stomach but tried to mask it with cheerfulness. "Oh, Charles, I'm so glad that you're home," she kissed her husband and pressed her skirted lowed body against his loins. "Maybe we have time to try out that kitchen table experiment that you mentioned this morning."
"That certainly does sound appealing," Charles' eyes wandered lazily over his wife's golden clad body. "You do look very beautiful tonight, my sweet."
Wendy felt a small sense of relief. Clearly, she had distracted Charles from the trick or treaters.
"But, it appears that there are some other matters to be addressed first." Wendy's relief disappeared.
"W-what do you mean?" Wendy tried to keep her voice light and innocent.
"Wendy, the sweet and innocent thing isn't going to work with me. You should know better than that." Charles gave his wife a stern look then turned to answer the door. He dispatched a pirate, a hobo, and a football player with generous helpings from the Reese's Cup bowl then returned his attention to his errant witch of a wife.
"Trick or treating will be over soon. I'll take over here. I want you to go upstairs and wait for me. You know what to do."
Yes, Wendy did know what to do, and she wasn't happy about it one bit. She plodded slowly up the staircase, berating herself for her foolishness. It was stupid of her to use magic on those little witches. Wendy knew that now.
She went into the bedroom and stood in the corner near the closet. While she stood there, she chastised herself for ever telling Charles about the conversation that she'd overheard at a Tupperware party. She'd been eavesdropping on a variety of conversations that night when she overheard two sisters whispering about the spankings their husbands had given them the night before. She learned that many mortals viewed this practice as a way of maintaining peace and harmony in their homes. She explained what she'd learned to Charles when she got home that night. Three days later, when she wrecked the car while putting on makeup, they put what they'd learned into practice.
Wendy had a feeling that tonight's transgression was worse than a scrunched bumper. Waves of anxiety crashed in her stomach as she waited for Charles' footsteps in the hall.
Finally, the bedroom door opened. Wendy knew better than to look. She continued to stare at the wall in front of her and listened while Charles closed the door behind him and walked across the room. She heard the bed creak with his weight. "Come here, please, Wendy."
Wendy slowly turned from the corner. Her long skirt rustled in the silent room as she crossed to the bed where her husband sat. Wendy kept her eyes downcast. She really was ashamed of herself.
Charles held both of her hands in his and looked up at his wife. Blonde ringlets fell forward across her breasts as she hung her head.
"What you did tonight was very serious." Charles' voice was calm, but Wendy recognized the steely determination beneath his tone. "You could have compromised our whole assignment, not to mention our futures with The MOB, by using magic tonight." Wendy shivered with the realization, and Charles slid his hands up her arms to warm her. "I know how much you hate Halloween here, and I rushed home as quickly as I could to try to relieve you of as much of it as I could. And then I pulled into the driveway just in time to watch your hand flick just before those little witches went rolling across the lawn."
Charles squeezed his wife's arms, and she looked at him. "Those little girls could have been hurt."
"I know." Wendy felt a stab of shame at the realization that she had used magic, and broken her word, for such a petty reason.
Charles' hands were at his wife's waist. Wendy's stomach tightened as she felt them slide around her waist to the back closure of her skirt. Deft fingers unlatched the hook and slid the zipper down. Charles eased the full skirt to the floor, and Wendy stepped out of it. Charles laid the fluffy garment across the footboard of the bed and then returned his attention to his half-dressed wife. He slid his fingers into the waistband of her panties, and Wendy felt a small trill of excitement as his fingers whispered across the delicate flesh of her stomach. The panties were lowered to just above her knees, and Wendy stood before her husband, knowing what was coming, but still filled with uncertainty.
Charles slid back on the bed and pulled his wife across his lap. "I know that this hasn't been a very good day for you, Sweetie, and I'm sorry to make things worse, but I just don't think that I have any choice. Do you?"
Wendy's forlorn eyes looked over her left shoulder at her husband. "No, you don’t. I was childish and selfish, and I took a foolish risk. Not only that," Wendy felt her throat tighten with emotions, "but I put your career and your future at risk too. I had no right to do that."
Wendy buried her face in the comforter of the bed and braced herself by clenching her hands into the downy fabric. She wiggled herself into position across her husband's lap and waited for the first crack of his palm across her buns. In fact, a part of her looked forward to the release that a good spanking would bring. She'd know that she'd paid for her poor behavior and wouldn't need to feel guilty about it.
Charles prolonged his wife's waiting by slowly running the fingers of his right hand over the tender flesh of her backside. Wendy felt goosebumps break out across her hide along with a faint warm tingle in her girly parts.
The tingle was replaced with a sudden sting of pain as Charles' hand came down on her right cheek. Wendy inhaled sharply and waited for the rest of the punishment that she knew she had earned with her poor judgment.
Charles did not appear to be in any hurry. Rather than peppering her behind with rapid swats as he usually did, this time, he was taking his time and pausing after each crack to her butt. Wendy couldn't decide which was worse, the pain of his hand striking her tender derriere or the waiting for the next smack on her flesh.
The pauses between swats made it possible for Wendy to "appreciate" each one. She felt the sting against her cheeks when his hand hit its target, then she felt the heat from the impact as it spread across her rump. Sort of a double whammy on her fanny.
Even at this slower than usual pace, within just a few minutes, Wendy knew without looking that her backside was scarlet from cheek to cheek and from stem to stern. Just when she thought that he must be finished with her, he started in on her thighs. Oh, the sting. Wendy felt her fingers itch to flick a pillow across her rump, but she squelched the impulse. That certainly would not help the situation at all.
Finally, she felt her husband's gentle hands pull her up to sit on his lap. She pressed her tired forehead into his neck and sobbed out an apology.
"Shhh. It's all done now," Charles stroked his wife's curls back from her face and kissed away the tears on her cheeks. "You were very brave and took your punishment like a good girl. I know that parts of this assignment have been very hard for you. It's hard to be away from everything that's familiar and to try to live in a world that is so different from our own." Charles ran his index finger across Wendy's jaw and down her throat. His finger feathered across her collarbone and down into the shadow of her cleavage before he continued, "Let's put this behind us now." Wendy gave a weak smile at his inadvertent joke.
Charles' hand skimmed down his wife's leg and removed the last wisp of her panties. He reached behind her back to unhook the golden camisole and placed the other half of Wendy's outfit on top of the previously discarded skirt. Then Charles ran a lazy finger from the pulse beating at the base of his wife's throat to the rosy peak of her left breast. Wendy's nipple flowered against his fingertip, and she leaned into his touch with a soft moan.
Wendy clasped her hands around her husband's neck as he stood with her cradled in his arms. She expected him to lay her across the large bed so she was surprised when he headed toward the door. But, when he carried her into the kitchen, she knew what he had in mind.
The cool Formica felt good against the heat of Wendy's rump, and she reached out to help her husband remove his clothes. Charles gently laid his wife back against the kitchen table, his warm breath caressed her ear and he said, "Let's make some magic the old fashioned way."
The End
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