Logan: Disco Inferno

[OTKLogan]

DISCO INFERNO

If having a great time was a crime, I'd be doing life plus a hundred and twenty years.
I'm in a business that guarantees good times and beautiful women. It doesn't take a college degree to run a nightclub, so I guess I was primed for this career. Sure, there've been ups and downs. But for the most part, these last 20 years have been a pure slice of heaven.

But the times that were the most out of control and out of this world were the eighties. Conspicuous consumption, disposable income and debauchery were the flavors of the month.
I have to admit, I saw the trend earlier than most. I was in Europe for about a month and toured France, Italy and Greece. The clubs were spinning records and people were dancing. Back in the state, I was still paying a band to play. That meant a nut of about twelve hundred dollars a week to a group of guys who worked four hours a night plus drank a least a C-note a week of booze. I was missing something here. But I found it in a New York minute when I did the math.
When I got back to the club, I told my manager, Al Beverati, to fire the band, get a lighting consultant and contractor in pronto and find a DJ who knew what was going on with "disco". Al looked at me like I was whacked but did what I asked. The next month, "Stars Discotheque" was born. And as luck would have it, Studio 54 opened the week before, giving discos a blast of publicity across the nation.
We opened to lines 2 blocks long. I charged $8 at the door and people were throwing it at me. They couldn't pay fast enough to get in, dance and spend $4 for a beer and $6 for a mixed drink. Nice country, America.
When we renovated, I had a private room constructed. It was our VIP lounge. You could look out onto the dance floor, but no one could look in. Music was piped in for your private party and it took a hundred bucks a night for the privilege. Stars was packed 6 nights a week. The cash was flowing, the music was hot and I was one happy guy.










One evening, Christina, one of my waitresses came in early and asked if I would "loan" her the VIP lounge for the night. A few of her college roommates were in town and wanted to stop by the club. I checked the book and saw that no one had reserved it. Christina was one of the best waitresses
in the club, so I told her she could have the room but she had to be responsible for it. I also waived the cover charge and told her to chill a bottle of "Dom" compliments of the house. She gave me a quick peck on the cheek and scurried out of the office.
It was a Thursday night and I had to give the fire marshal an extra two hundred dollars to keep the place open. We packed six hundred people in the club. The music was pulsating so hard and loud that the bass literally had your heart racing a least six beats faster.
Around midnight, I sandwiched my way through the club. Checked with my bouncers to make sure nothing was out of hand. My bartenders couldn't even make eye contact with me they were so busy. So, I decided to stop by the VIP lounge to see how Christina's friends were doing.
I opened the door and was faced with three bouncing bottoms waving back and forth to the beat. The were bent over the large glass table in the middle of the room.
"Hey, Chris, come on in, this line has your name written on it." said the bottom to the left. What followed was a long unladylike snort.
I saw red.
I am a very liberal man. Tolerant to a fault but drugs are one thing I will never, ever allow in my club or in my life.
"What the hell is going on in here?" I bellowed.
"Oh, you must be Logan. Come on in, darlin'. We have plenty." a blonde about five foot nine in a tight black dress whipped around with a rolled up Franklin. "I'm Molly, this is Julie and Amy. The other two girls turned around, one more beautiful than the other. They were physically stunning. But even that didn't blind me from what they were doing in my club.
"Well, ladies, I am Logan. And I don't appreciate what you're doing here. I would like you to leave immediately and I'll take this little bag of goodies as payment for the room." I picked up the baggie that was two inches thick with cocaine and put it in my pocket.
"Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing with my coke, Mister? Give it back right now! We're not bothering you or anyone else." Molly said as she stamped her foot on the floor.



"Yeah, give it a break, you old fuck. We're trying to have a good time, here. Christina said you were cool but I guess she was wrong. Just give us the coke and we're outta here." Julie, a short but curvaceous redhead, sniffed at the end of her tirade. Amy just slid her finger across the table and rubbed her gums.
"I don't think so, girls. Party's over. Out."
As I went for the door, Christina opened it with a bucket of ice and a chilled bottle of Dom Perignon.
"Hey, Logan, what a night! Have you met my friends? Julie, Molly...."
"We met and they were just leaving. They've run out of coke and I've run out of patience."
"What are you talking about?" Chris questioned.
"This." I held up the Peruvian Party Powder.
"Listen you stupid bastard, are you hard of hearing? We want our coke back now or........" Julie threatened.
"Or what? You'll call the police? Tell you what, I'll do that for you." I walked over to the other side of the room and took the phone in my hand. "This will score big points for me at the station, girls. A club owner busting his own patrons. That doesn't happen every day. Hell, I might even get this in the paper. It will show the entire city that I run a straight club. What a concept." I began to dial.
"No, Logan, stop. We'll leave. Don't call." Molly begged.
"Well, why should I stop? You've put me, my club and your best friend in an amazing amount of jeopardy. And that's it? You want to just leave? What do you think, Christina? You think they should be let off? What would you do if you were in my shoes?" I turned to Christina and she was livid.
"What would I do? I tell you what I'd do. I do just what I used to do when they were my sorority sisters in the dorm." She said and as the words hit the air, the three girls gulped simultaneously.
Not being a college man myself, I was curious.
"What do you mean, Christina?"
"I'd give the three of them a bare ass spanking they'd never forget. Right, Molly? Julie? Amy? Or have you forgotten? If you have, then it's time for a refresher course."
The three girls could have passed for Lot's wife. Statue still and wide-eyed.
"Ladies, it your choice. I'll agree with Christina." I said as I helped Christina pull up a chair to the middle of the room.
Christina sat down and pulled up her skirt to reveal tan, toned thighs. She flashed a glare at Molly and crooked a finger in her direction.
"Ok, Molly, get over here. You're first."
"Wait, hold on, Chris, we're sorry. We'll leave. We didn't mean anything. We'll just go." The once defiant Molly stammered.



"Oh no, you've made me look like an idiot in front of my boss and could've done a lot more damage to him and the club. No excuses. You need this now. It's obvious you're way over due. Make it easy on yourself and get over my knee, now!" Christina demanded.
The other two ladies were chewing on the sides of their cheeks and nervously looking at each other and their friend as she stepped closer to the seated waitress.
With a flash, Christina grabbed the girl's wrist and flung the stunned woman over her lap. Chris secured her arm around the Molly's waist and pulled her closer. Her hand settled on the protruding bottom.
"Now, I want you to remember this night for a long time, Molly. I am so disappointed in you. I thought I gave you enough of these to last you a lifetime but it seems like you need a refresher course." As she made her announcement, Chris slowly pulled up the black silk over the girls stockinged thighs to reveal an island of white flesh between thigh-hugging stockings and black panties.
Chris gave the pantied bottom a hard, loud whack. The girl jumped. What followed was a spanking masterpiece. Chris slapped the tight, jumping cheeks. Molly kicked her legs back and forth. Her arms reached behind to protect her tender bottom from the viscous volley of spanks that were scorching her rump.
"Ow, ow, ow, Chris, please stop. My God, I'm burning up. Please, stop. Not so hard." Molly cried.
"Stop? Cocaine and a defiant disrespect of my boss? Oh no, honey, we've just begun."
Chris inserted her fingers into the waistband of Molly's panties and gave a yank. Two beautiful half moons wobbled into view. What a sight! They were stained a nice ruby red. And I realized that Chris was just as good of a spanker as she was a waitress.
"Chris, no!!!!!!!! Not in front of him. Please. I'll go. I'm sorry." she wailed.
Chris pistoned her arm up and down for a good three minutes, non-stop. Molly kicked, dug her toes into the carpet, flung her head back and cried like a well-spanked little girl. Tears were flowing freely. Her bottom was a deep crimson. Chris stopped and grabbed a handful of hot buns.
"Hmmmm, feels hot. But Logan, I think you should finish her off."
"What?????!!!!!!!" Molly turned her tear-stained face to Chris.
Before she could protest another second, I picked her up as Chris got off the chair and I sat down. This woman was in for the spanking of her young life.
I patted her seat, settled into the chair and held her tight.
"Little girl, I hope this is getting your attention because if you keep going in this direction, you will be in bigger trouble than this. It may not seem like it right now, but we're doing you a big favor."
Chris stood beside her college friends as they looked on with their mouths wide open.
I gave Molly a half-hearted swat and it helped me gauge how much damage she'd already endured.
"Ouch! Oooooooooh". she moaned.
Poor girl.






I began the hard, opened-handed smacks from the junction of her thigh and bottom cheek. I worked up one side, down the other very slow but very, very intense. Her cheeks clenched, yawned and showed me everything she would be embarrassed to show any man. But at this time that was the last thing on her mind. Her bottom was now an angry scarlet. Blotches of red told
me she would have bruises for a few days and sitting wouldn't be something she'd desire anytime soon.
The last fifty swats took on a new meaning for the young woman. She began to arch her bottom to meet the assaulting palm. Her moans had changed. Her voice was now throaty. Her head was bent toward the floor. Her hair hung to the carpet. Her thighs parted. And at the forty-third smack, her feet dug into the floor, her calves and thighs tightened and her bottom shook as well as her shoulders. Everyone in the room knew that this woman was in bliss. She had a sore, blistered bottom but at that moment she had crossed over to a different plane.
After seven more scorchers, I stopped but her bottom continued to arch up and down. I picked her up and put her on my lap. I brushed her hair from her face and thumbed away a few tears. She was sobbing and hugging me for all she was worth.
"Th-th-thank you, Mister Logan. I am sorry. Thank you, Chris." Molly sobbed with a drunken smile on her face.
"That's alright, Molly. Let it go. It's ok. You're a good girl. Just keep away from that stuff."
"Yes, sir. I will. I promise." Molly said wiping away a tear.
As she got up from my lap a small wetness appeared on my thigh. She reached down and pulled up her panties avoiding the glare from her friends.
"Ok, let's get this over with, Chris, it's getting late and you have tables to worry about. You girls are costing your friend money and a talk with me later."
Chris shot a glance my way. She knew what I meant. We had a "talk" six months ago. She'd been a model waitress ever since.
"Logan.....what?" Chris couldn't believe her ears.
"Later, we have work to do now. Little girl, get over here. Chris take care of your other friend." I growled.
Amy, the sassy, little redhead looked everywhere but at me. I stood up, took her by her arm and led her to the chair. One quick flip and she was staring at two-ply.
Chris just looked at Julie and the tall, lanky girl walked right over and assumed the position.
For the next ten minutes the music was drowned out by hard slaps and crying girls with burning buns. Amy was a true red-head and her hindend was so red it bordered on neon. Her alabaster thighs also received a visit by my callused palms. She made the egregious mistake of calling me "a sadistic old bastard" after only thirty smacks. I decided to show her just how sadistic this old bastard could be. She cried herself hoarse.
Chris dealt out justice to the tall girl who's bottom was as perfect as I've ever seen. Round, fleshy and protruding, it bounced with every sharp spank the strong waitress delivered.
I looked over at Chris and she smiled. I nodded. We both stopped and allowed our spankees a respite. Then, I helped Amy off my lap. Her hands shot back to her scalded cheeks. She hopped on one foot then the other.

Chris let Julie stand. One hand massaged her butt, the other knuckled her tear filled eyes. I walked over to her and Chris sat in my chair. Both girls realized their fate at the same time and began to cry once more as they were led over new laps.
I've spanked a lot of women in my life but this one reacted as if she was twelve. She snaked over my lap, bounced back and forth, pleaded, begged and finally, submitted to a spanking she would probably never admit to. Her perfect bottom was a patchwork of every color of red imaginable.
"No, no, no, no, no, I'm sorry. My heinie is sore. It burns. Stop, I won't do it anymore." Julie cried her eyes out.
As I looked at Amy, Christ had stopped spanking and was giving Amy a hand. Literally. Chris had her fingers buried in a very receptive place. Her thumb had invaded the hot, tight entrance between two angry red cheeks. The girl was sobbing and moaning simultaneously. This was obviously a scene the two had experienced before.
I looked down at Julie's bottom and decided she'd learned her lesson. I sat her on my knees and she wailed into my shoulder. I rubbed her bottom and assured her that she'd get over this but that it was well needed. Through her tears, she agreed. I stood her up. She rubbed, went to bucket and grabbed two handfuls of ice and applied it to her burning bottom. Her panties puddled at her ankles.
Amy climaxed in stuttering pants as Christ gave her a dozen flaming spanks. Afterwards, Chris stroked Amy's cheeks.
"That's my good girl. Yes, are you going to be disobedient again, Amy?"
"Hmmm, no m'am. Nooooooo, m'am." she cooed.
Somehow I wasn't convinced.
Three panties were pulled up. Groans and sniffles filled the room. Chris gave them a blistering lecture to affirmative nods. The three girls apologized once again and left without looking me in the eyes, well, except Molly. She looked with a wince and a smile. We kept the drugs.
"Logan, I'm sorry about all this. I really am. I had no idea they were into this stuff. I could control them when we lived in the dorm but I guess they're on their own now and need someone to keep them in line."
"Just like someone else I know." I smiled
"Logan, all of this has me in a pitiful state. Can we continue this discussion after we close? I could sure use some refocusing myself."
I looked at my watch it was one-thirty five. Twenty more minutes to last call. Hey, I had nothing else to do after I closed.
I rubbed my palms together and said: "Christina, it would be my pleasure."
I couldn't help but notice the irony of the song that was blasting through the speakers: "Burn, baby, burn...."
Damn, I miss the eighties.