Very Personal Trainer

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Rebecca Wilson took a long look at herself in the full length mirror. "Not bad." She thought. Her workouts with a private trainer were starting to pay off. She weighed a hundred and seventeen pounds and stood five foot six and an eighth. She wasn't overweight, just "intoned" according to Terry, her Drill Sergeant trainer. Her curves were well proportioned but need a little tightening here and there.
A well-deserved promotion and hefty raise afforded the thirty-two year old, blond executive enough money to acquire the services of Terry Stiles, personal trainer and six feet of solid, feminine muscle, flaming red hair and Miss America-beauty. She was ruthless and unrelenting but this morning, all was forgiven as Rebecca smiled at her reflection as she noticed a new rip in her thigh.
She picked up her water bottle and towel and walked out to her garage where she had set up a gym with enough equipment to rival any health club.
It was six a.m. on the dot.
Terry didn't tolerate lateness. An extra fifty crunches was usually the sentence if Rebecca wasn't stretching out as Terry came through the gate.






Rebecca was feeling great. And she looked just as good she felt. Her new leotard clung to her body like a second skin. Those long, slender legs would be free of any body suit. They were tan, ripped and bare. Her bottom cheeks snuck out of the bottom and the more she stretched the more they eeked up to form a single strand of material that bisected her buns. As Rebecca reached for her ankle that was positioned on top of the bar, she heard Terry walk in.
"You call that stretching, Wilson? C'mon, reach! Reach!" Terry shouted.
Rebecca strained and felt a fresh Niagara of perspiration flow from beneath her headband. The muscles in her calf were taut and burned. All she could think of was seven o'clock seemed like an eternity away. Hell, it was only ten after six.
"Alright, Wilson, stop the easy stuff. Grab the rope and give me two fifty."
As a child, Rebecca loved to jump rope but counting to two hundred and fifty was merciless. She began and counted aloud. Terry circled her as she jumped. Rebecca's breasts bobbed up and down and she could feel her bottom jiggling as her feet bounced on the floor. Terry smiled.
"Those buns are lookin' good, Beck."
At two hundred and twenty, Rebecca's entire body was coated with perspiration. She was blinded by the curtain of sweat that invaded her eyes as she counted the last thirty revolutions of rope. She stopped and bent over holding her knees.




WHACK!
A sharp slap of Terry's hand met the tempting, bare left cheek of Rebecca. She stood up straight and massaged the assaulted spot. A stain of red marked the plum under swell of Rebecca's bottom.
"Stop, wasting time, Wilson. Let's get down to business." The trainer commanded.
And for the next forty-five minutes, Rebecca lifted, pressed, crunched, curled, tread milled, stair mastered and sweated. By seven o'clock, she had worked her pecs, abs, delts, lats and glutes. She was completely exhausted. Her face was stop-sign red. Terry had pushed her so hard during her "flies" that Rebecca was close to tears.
"Don't you dare, Miss! I don't want to see tear-one, understand? You're contract says you want results and you didn't care how we got them.
You're lookin' good and why? Because I'm here pushin' you. Period. I'm the best and that's what you’re payin' for. So suck it up, Rebecca!"
Terry was right. She was the best that Hard Bodies Inc. had on staff. There were nine trainers in the stable and all were booked six hours a day. Terry was in highest demand and fetched a cool a hundred and twenty dollars an hour for her heartless talent of driving a person over the brink of physical endurance and exhaustion.
Rebecca toweled off as she inched her way to the house. This was the most brutal session ever. But somehow, she was feeling better as the ache and burning in her muscles screamed satisfaction. Terry put her arm around Rebecca and gave a friendly squeeze.



"Ya did good, kid. I'm proud of you. You had a lot of demons to shake and you've done it. You should be proud of yourself. No backsliding and that's rare. You've kept your promise and look what you have to show for it. I've got to say I've put more into you than anyone else. I guess I've made you my pet project. But it was worth it."
Rebecca was proud of herself. It had been six weeks and since then she hadn't even thought of chocolate...her biggest weakness. It was the major contributor to her "excess baggage" she carried around the previous thirty days. Kicking the chocolate habit had to be equivalent to going cold turkey on heroin.
"You know, Terry, I am proud of myself. It's been six weeks since I've even thought about chocolate. And the great thing is, I don't even have the mildest craving for it. It's amazing. And I do have to admit it, I owe it all to you. Thanks." Rebecca said as she looked up at her benefactor.
They walked into the cool air conditioned house and were met with an icy curtain of freeze. Rebecca put her towel around her neck and went to the refrigerator for some water. Terry sat down at the table. Rebecca looked over and saw two rather long, protruding nipples stabbing their way out of Terry's top. When she looked up, Rebecca realized she'd been caught staring .
"Don't be embarrassed. It happens all the time. The slightest chill and the high beams click on. My old boyfriend used to call them Number 2 pencil erasers. During Christmas, I can hang ornaments from them."
They bought enjoyed a chuckle.
"If you get my bag on the shelf, I'll cut you a check." Rebecca said as she took a long, refreshing pull of water.


Terry grabbed the Coach feedbag-style handbag and swung it off the shelf. She lost her grip and the entire contents of the bag spilled onto the floor. Everything...including two quarter pound boxes of Godiva chocolates.
The boxes were made of cardboard but the impact they made when they hit the floor seemed to explode in the room.
There was deafening silence.
Then Terry got up and strode toward the cowering Rebecca.
"What is the hell is this!!!????" She said as she kicked the gold boxes toward Rebecca.
" I want an immediate explanation, right now!" Her voice shook the glasses in the cupboard.
"I...uh...I can explain." Rebecca moused.
"I give you more attention than any other client. I put up with your lateness. And what do you do? You make a fool of me. That's it isn't it? You thought you put one over on me..."
Rebecca interrupted. "I didn't try to put one over on you. If you'd let me explain, you'll understand.."
It was Terry's turn to interrupt. "I know one thing, Miss." She was back in her Drill Sergeant mode. "You need to learn a lesson. And you need to learn it now!"
Terry walked over to Rebecca and grabbed her by the arm. It felt like the jaws of a bear had clamped down over Rebecca's bicep. Terry pulled Rebecca over to the straight back chair by the table. As Terry sat down, she yanked Rebecca over her knees.



"What are you doing!!!!??? What is this? Let me up this instant." Rebecca shouted. She couldn't believe what was happening. She tried to move but couldn't. She was trapped and very afraid to say nothing of completely humiliated.
"If you insist on acting like a child then we're going to have to approach your training as a child. Sneaking and hiding chocolate like a ten year old, I swear. Did you think you'd get away with it? Well, this should begin to teach you that Terry doesn't work that way."
SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT!
The six foot red head slapped the peaking cheeks of the helpless woman she had pinioned over her lap. Who did this woman think she was? Sure, she had more education and made probably ten times as much as Terry but she was going to have to learn who was boss once and for all.
SMACKSMACKSMACKSMACKSMACK...
"Ow! Terry! Stop! Please! I want to talk..." Rebecca was now feeling a slow burn creep into her cheeks. Thank God, her leotard gave her some protection.
Terry ignored her pleas then stopped. She hooked her fingers under the edge of the leotard and pulled them rudely between the red-pink cheeks.
"Now, let's get down to business." Terry snarled. Then everything turn red in Rebecca's mind.
As Terry slapped the once alabaster buns, they shook and clenched, arched and wiggled, shook and quaked. But this amazon of a woman held Rebecca under control as easy as she would a recalcitrant ten year old.




Rebecca held back her tears as long as she could. When she finally let loose, she blubbered and sniffled to a deaf ear.
"Please, please stop. My heinie is burning up. Let...me...explain..."
Sobs shook her well-toned frame as her tears began to form a puddle beneath her face. She had never been spanked in her entire life and now at the age of thirty-two, she was getting a blistering from the strongest woman she had ever met. She knew her bottom would be blazing red. It felt as if she fell asleep under a sun lamp. Only this sun lamp didn't seem to have an "off" switch.
"Are you beginning to see the light, little Miss? I've got another hour before my next client. I can stay here and lambast this butt."
"Nononononooooo!!!! I'm sorry! Please stop, you're going to kill me. I'm dying. I can't take any more." Rebecca cried.
"I don't know anyone who died from a good old fashioned spanking. And besides, how many times have you told me during your workout that you couldn't do three more? You did it and lived. So don't worry about this "glute" session, girl. It's just what you've needed for a long time."
This scolding was given as Terry smacked the now bare, crimson seat of Rebecca. In contrast to her tan, it glowed as if it was radioactive. Terry's palm crashed down in a pistion-like manner flattening one cheek then the other. She covered the entire expanse of roasted flesh. And then, she stopped.
"Ok, Rebecca, have I made my point?" she asked rhetorically.




"Y-y-y-y-e-e-e-s-s-s. I'm s-s-s-so-o-o-ory." Rebecca hung her head so that her chin met her chest. She was completely dominated. But even worse, during the last third of her humiliation, she found herself oddly excited by this whole episode. Her body was rebelling. Rebecca was now cursing herself for actually becoming aroused. Was it her body thrashing across the solid, rock-hard thighs of Terry. Or was it the humiliation of being spanked and completely dominated by an attractive woman?
Rebecca felt the large soothing hands of Terry palming her cheeks and giving them soft, gentle squeezes. This only added to the warmth Rebecca felt between her thighs. Damn, this woman.
"Ok, up!" Terry gave her a light pat on the rump and Rebecca didn't need to be told twice. Terry stood up and towered over Rebecca. She put her arm around Rebecca's shoulders and gave her a maternal hug. Rebecca sobbed softly and nestled her head between Terry's breasts.
"It's all over. It's ok. Ssshhhhh. It's alright. All's forgiven. Ok?" Terry lifted Rebecca's chin with her finger and gave her a smile. Through a veil of fresh tears, Rebecca smiled and nodded. Terry brushed away a runaway tear.
After she composed herself, Rebecca said:
"I have to tell you something." She sniffled.
"What's that?" Terry soothed.
"That really isn't my candy. It's for my Uncle Lou. He visiting from Portland and that was my "Welcome Home" gift."





Terry face transformed into a scowl. "Don't add lying to your list of crimes."
"I'm not. I'm telling you the truth. Now, please give me some ice for my butt. I've got to cool it down. You burned it up but good. Ooooh, look at those cheeks, their redder than anything I've evern seen." Rebecca exclaimed.
"Yeah, and the crotch of that leotard is wetter than anything I've seen." Terry chuckled as she dumped some ice into Rebecca's towel and handed it to her.
Rebecca's face blushed almost as red as her bottom.
"Look, Terry, maybe it isn't a good idea we keep this going, you know. " Rebecca said as she applied the ice to her scalded bottom.
"Rebecca, it's up to you. But I want you to think about it. We've come a long way in six weeks. This was just an unfortunate misunderstanding. But you're a very special client to me and when I thought you were throwing away all that we've worked to achieve, I just went ballistic. If anything, this should show you how much I do care."
As strange as it sounded to Rebecca, she did feel that Terry cared enough about her to give her something no one who had ever proclaimed to love her actually took the time to do. And God knows, in her thirty-two years, she deserved it scores of times.
"Let me think about it, Terry. Right now, I've got a five alarm fire to put out." Rebecca said taking ice cubes and painting her two glowing globes with a wet sheen of soothing water.
"Ok, it's your dime." Terry said as she left the house.



Rebecca walked painfully to the bathroom and peeled off her leotard. She turned her back to the mirror and saw two very red and blistered buns. She softly touched them and ran her fingers over the thin weals that Terry's hard, stiff fingers left. She put both hands behind her and gently squeezed. Her bottom ached but her heart was racing as if she drank a hundred cups of coffee. This was one of the strangest days in her life.
Rebecca showered. The tiny silver needles of water re-spanked her bottom but the cool water seemed to help. Somehow between the icy darts of wet and her own caresses, she pleasured herself and imagined the helplessness that she ironically enjoyed.
After she carefully toweled off, she knew something had to be done about Terry. The professional side of Rebecca had resurface. Sex was one thing, but out and out assault was something that could not be tolerated.

(NEW CHAPTER)
As she left Murray Cates in dry heaves, Terry Stiles checked her beeper. It was Vicki, her boss and owner of Hard Bodies Inc. What could she possibly want? Maybe she was giving Terry a raise? Or a partnership? Hell, Terry brought in more money than two of Vicki's trainers put together.
She picked up her car phone and hit 1. It was Vicki's private number.
"Yeah?"
"Vic, Ter, what's up?"
"You're last client was Cates, right?"
"Yeah." Terry didn't like the tone in Vicki's voice. Something was wrong. "I'm going over to that comics house now."
"Don't bother, I just sent Jake over to cover it for you. Get in here, now. We gotta talk."
"About what?"
"Just get here as fast as you can."
Terry sped to the Valley. She couldn't for the life of her figure out what Vicki could want. Did she push one of her client too far and they complained? Big deal, that's what she was paid to do. She hadn't seen that Rebecca woman in over two weeks, that couldn't be it. Hell, maybe Vicki was in one of her PMS modes. Terry would let her vent and that would be it.
She pulled into the parking lot and trotted toward the all glass building that proudly displayed the Hard Bodies logo. She walked in and flashed by Carla, the receptionist. Terry walked down the long hallway where black and white photos of tight, buffed bodies of some of Hard Bodies' most famous clients hung.
As Terry approached Beth, Vicki's assistant, she knew there was trouble. The usually cheerleader-perky secretary just gave a nod toward the door. Terry didn't miss a stride and walked into Vicki's office.
The room could probably be rented for two thousand dollars a month anywhere in L.A. It was fourteen hundred square feet of trophies, workout equipment and office furnishings. There was also an area with a twelve-foot marble conference table. That's where Vicki was sitting...with Rebecca Wilson.
"Hello, Terry." Rebecca was the first to speak.
Somewhat taken aback, Terry softly returned the salutation.
"Sit down, Terry. Ms. Wilson and I have been talking for sometime now and she had told me quite a story. Care to hear about it? Or would you like to hear it from her?" The tone in Vicki's voice glaciered the entire room.
"Uh, she's lying. It's just not true." Terry stammered.
"You haven't even heard what she had to say. Maybe you should tell me what you think she said." Vicki iced.
This was getting serious.











"Vicki, if you'd allow me." said Rebecca. She stood up and walked around the large table. "Terry, after you left me that day of our...shall we say, "no pain, no gain" workout. I began to think and I found your motivational style leaving much to be desired. And I then thought, what would happen to me if any one of my clients experience the same treatment from my company. Well, I'd probably have my butt sued off. I contacted my lawyers and they told me I had and pretty good case. In fact, after seeing the polaroids of my injured area, they said I had an exceptional case. That's when I decided to talk to Vicki. And we've come to a settlement. We think. Actually, it's all up to you whether or not I sue this company, Vicki, and press criminal charges against you. And correct me if I'm wrong, didn't you have a brush with the law about five years ago? A second offense could mean...well, we don't have to get into that right now. Vicki would you like to tell Terry what we've decided to do?" Rebecca Cheshired a smile.
Vicki seemed ill at ease. "Certainly, Ms Wilson. Terry, what you did put this business that I have scraped to keep alive for the last five year in dire jeopardy. It was irresponsible, reckless and totally uncalled for. Firing you would be too easy and Ms. Wilson has informed me that it is not her intention or desire to see you unemployed. However, she does think you need to be taught an invaluable lesson. But it is totally up to you whether or not to accept these terms."
"What terms?" Terry impatiently interrupted.





"I'm not finished. These terms were tabled by Ms. Wilson and I totally agree with her that they are indeed, fair and if I may say so myself, sorely needed. And the terms are, you will receive a good sound spanking on your bare bottom. The length of which will be determined by Ms. Wilson. You will receive this spanking on your bare bottom." Vicki said with stone-emotion.
"Wait a minute..." Terry tried.
"And it will be administered by me."
"What??? Are you serious. You, Vicki? Why?" Terry's voice was beginning to regress to that of a teen-aged girl caught after curfew.
"I thought since she was your boss, it was only appropriate that she met out your sentence." Rebecca said with some glee.
"You two are nuts. Do actually think I'd go for this? I'm out of here, Vicki. You're lucky I don't come across this table and beat your butt for even suggesting this." Terry bravadoed.
"Is that your answer?" Vicki asked.
"Yeah, that's my answer."
"Ok." Vicki punched a button on her phone. "Beth, get me the Valley police."
"Whoa, what's this?" Terry shrieked.
"I'm pressing assault and battery charges against you. As well as aggravated assault. I was bruised for nine days and couldn't sit for two days. That rendered me useless at my job and I lost out on a very important new business pitch. I am also going to sue you for those damages as well as emotional damage." Rebecca reported as she stood up and walked to the door. "Have a nice day."
"Wait! Hold on, here. You're going to have me arrested for spanking you? This is nuts. Let me think this over."
"You got as much time as I did. Yes or no, Terry. I'm tired of playing around." Rebecca's voice assumed an executive timbre.
"And Vicki, y you’d actually sp...do this?" Terry whined.
"Oh, yeah." Vicki nodded.
"When? Where? How?"
"Now. Here. And very hard. Let's get it over with, Terry." Vicki commanded.
Terry looked around the room for some ghost to recue her from this uncomfortable dream. She look at Vicki, the holder of more woman's body building titles than anyone in the world. Today, Vicki was wearing a sleeveless top that displayed her cobra-like arms. Her strength was legendary.
Vicki was five ten but her body looked as if you placed a cover-girl model's head on a linebacker's body. "How did I get myself into this mess?" Terry thought
"Ok, you win." Terry said as she baby-stepped her way over to her boss. "Are going to stay here?" Terry asked Rebecca.
"I wouldn't miss this for the world." Rebecca smiled.
"Oooh." Terry said as Vicki stood up and yanked the amazon woman over her knees. "I can't believe you almost ruined my life, my business, to say nothing of throwing away a great life for yourself. What were you thinking, Terry.? Really? You deserve this and I'm going to make sure you remember this for as long as you live."



WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
Terry was wearing white skin-tight bicycle pants. Her butt was firm and tight but Terry squeezed them for all her might just the same. After the fifteenth swat, she relinquished her gluteal grip and they shook after every slap.
Vicki attended to her task with yeoman like efficiency. Her muscular arm was flexed and her stroke was flawless. Stinging slaps were dealt out by the dozen. The long, taut legs of Terry flailed the air. At one point, she reached back to try and cover her pummeled flanks. "No, no, no, that's...not...nice." Vicki punctuated her words with hard, burning slaps as she grabbed the offending arm and twisted behind Terry's back.
"Vicki, not so hard. This really hurts. Come on." Terry pleaded.
"Oh, deja vu, I seemed to have heard that before. But only you didn't lighten up did you, Terry? Give it to her good, Vicki." Rebecca said with a mouthful of revenge.
STING! STING! STING! STING! STING!
Vicki completely covered the shapely derriere that faced her. She smiled as she began to see a red hue becoming visible through the thin lycra shorts. Terry squirmed and wriggled but couldn't get out of the locked grasp. She bit her lip hard. This wasn't happening. With each painful spank, she jumped. Just get this over, please. But then, the unthinkable.
Vicki stopped spanking and effortlessly lifted Terry under her arm. She slipped her fingers under the waistband of the tight shorts and began to pull them over Terry's slender but bulbous bottom. It was a chore that was made easier when Rebecca came over and lent a hand, or two hands to be exact, as she put a hand on either side and yanked them down to Terry's knees. What appeared was a freshly spanked, red bottom.
Terry's butt was frying. Vicki's hands had become calloused after decades of pumping iron and gripping the hard steel. Now there was absolutely no protection between her tender hindparts and the leathery palm of one of the strongest women in the world.
"Nooooooooo!!!!! What are you doing? Stop. Call the cops. I can't stand this anymore. Lock me up. Just don't spank me anymore." There were tears in Terry's voice.
"I'll be glad to make the call, Terry. With a prior offense, you're looking at three to five years. And if you don't think I won't call, just try me." Rebecca said matter-of-factly.
"Ok, b-b-b-ut not too hard, please, Vicki?"
"In your dreams." was the unsympathetic answer.
And for the next ten minutes, Terry received the spanking of two life times. Vicki spanked her from the top of her bottom to the back of her knees. Terry kicked so furiously that Vicki had to lock her legs over Terry's calves. The spanking was humiliating and painful but nothing could have added to Terry's total embarrassment more than during a particularly excruciating volley, Terry broke down and cried like a baby as Beth walked in and stood transfixed. The twenty year old assistant had grown feet of cement as she watched one of her idols being spanked like a little girl over the lap of her mentor.
"Beth! Get out of here unless you want some of this yourself." Vicki said.
"No, m'am. I mean yes m'am." Beth said but didn't move.




"Out, right now! Move it!" Vicki screamed but kept on spanking.
The young woman beat feet out the door. Terry lay slumped over Vicki's lap. Rebecca couldn't help but notice a flush of excitement rising in Vicki's face, neck and chest. At times, Vicki would leave her hand after a slap and squeeze ever so gently. The sneer had become an inebriated smile. Vicki was drunk with power. Rebecca could see that Vicki was indeed enjoying her role as disciplinarian. A role Rebecca began to imagine might be interesting to experience herself.
Vicki looked up at Rebecca and Rebecca gave her a nod.
Vicki stopped. Terry's body shook with tears. Her hands went immediately to her sore tush. She rubbed and cried. Vicki stroked her back and helped the six foot, well-spanked woman off her lap. Vicki stood up and hugged the sobbing spankee.
"I'm sorry I had to do that, Terry. I really am. But you deserve that and a lot more. You almost lost me my business." Vicki said motherly.
"I know, I'm sorry. I am really, really sorry." Terry looked down at her boss with quivering lips. Then put her face in the nape of Vicki's neck and let loose with a full-on cry. Her body shook and Rebecca could she the fiery cheeks wiggle with each hearty sob.
"There, there, there, now, don't you have something to say to Ms. Wilson?" Vicki patted the back of Terry's head.
"Ye-ye-yes. I'm sorry, Ms. Wilson. I'll never do it again. Please, forgive me." Terry said to Rebecca through a rack of sobs.




"I forgive you, Terry. I'm sorry you had to go through this but I think you'll be a better person for it. And, oh, by the way, I'd like you to start back as my trainer. But I guess I can wait a day or two while you recover."
Rebecca and Terry and Vicki chuckled.
"Yes, m'am." Terry rubbed her cheeks oblivious to her nakedness. This was one lesson she would remember for a long, long time. She pulled up her bicycle pants and grimaced as she eased them over two very swollen sit-upons. When she finished her task, Vicki pointed and laughed as the redness of Terry's cheeks on display for anyone with sight to see.
Terry walked over to Vicki and hugged her again. "Thanks, I deserved it. If I ever screw up like that again, don't hesitate to wake me up."
Vicki hugged back and said: "It would be my pleasure."
Terry shook Rebecca's hand and said: "I'll see you in a few days, Ms. Wilson. And I guess I should thank you, too."
"Your welcome, but somehow I feel you'll get your revenge when it comes to those crunches." All three women laughed again. Terry walked gingerly toward the door. She couldn't wait to soak her bottom in cold water but knew she had to face Beth.
As she walked out the door into the waiting area of Vicki's office. Beth stood there with two cold ice packs.
"I thought you'd might need these for the ride home." Beth said with idolizing eyes.
"Thanks, kid. I will. Ooooh, I definitely will."


(NEW CHAPTER)

"Well, that was painless." Vicki said as she straightened her short skirt. "I think that did everyone a bit of good. Don't you Ms. Wilson?"
"I don't know about you, but I feel a lot better." Rebecca said. "Now that we've got that problem aside, let's get down to the business of settling my score with Hard Bodies Inc."
"I beg your pardon. We just did. You won't have another problem out of Terry for a few decades I can assure you of that." Vicki said proudly.
"I have no doubt about that. But you are the owner and major stockholder of this company and I hold you totally responsible for your employees. You are as much a part of what happened to me as Terry. Am I right? Now, give me one reason why I shouldn't call my lawyers and have them start proceedings against you right now." Rebecca looked around. "You know, I just might enjoy owning a fitness company."
"What are you saying? We had a deal. You said if Terry accepted a spanking, you wouldn't press charges."
"That's correct. But I didn't say anything about dropping my actions against you and Hard Bodies. Unless..." Rebecca left her thought dangling in the air.
"Unless what, Ms. Wilson? Please, if you have a counteroffer, I'd be more than willing to listen." Vicki said anxiously.
"Uh, no...no it's out of the question. I'll just leave and see you in court. You wouldn't entertain this concept. I'm sure. Good afternoon." Rebecca strode toward the door.



"Ms. Wilson, please wait. This company is my life. I worked in gyms cleaning up sweaty towels and scrubbing down the lockers just to workout. I turned my success in body building into this company. My company. Without it, I'm destroyed. I'm getting too old for competition and this is going to be the best year ever for my company. So, you can see, I can't lose it. Please tell me your idea."
"It's certainly one you're familiar with. I'm not out to take away your company or ruin your life. But it does seem fair that there should be some retribution on your part. I think since you're as much to blame as Terry, you should receive the same treatment. That's my idea. Take it or leave it." Rebecca walked toward Vicki and looked straight into her eyes. "Do we have a deal?"
Vicki looked around the room. Out the window. And onto the floor. Not an escape plan in the bunch. She let out a gale of an exhale.
"We have a deal. But when...?"
"Now. Here. And hard." was the reply.
Vicki walked over to Rebecca with her head hung down. "I can't believe I'm doing this." she said.
"Hell, you not doing anything. I'm going to be doing all the work." Rebecca said as she led Vicki to the chair. Rebecca sat down pulled up her skirt and directed Vicki over her thighs. Rebecca could feel the hardness of Vicki's body. There wasn't an ounce of fat on her except for two very plump bottom cheeks that ballooned out the back of her skirt.
"Well, it isn't as if you weren't well-cushioned for this." Rebecca said as she patted Vicki's bottom.


"Who ever comes up with an exercise to turn those into muscle will be a millionaire over night." Vicki said with a giggle.
Rebecca lifted the edge of the short skirt and pulled the material over Vicki's back. The most beautiful bottom Rebecca had ever seen was presented before her. Two perfect bubbles of flesh lay before her. She patted them. They wobbled. Vicki closed her eyes as if that would make this scene go away.
This wasn't the first time she'd been in this position. But it had been at least three years since she felt the embarrassment of being a full-grown woman taking a spanking like a bad little girl.
It was during her quest for the title of Lady East Coast. The competition took place in Ocean City, Maryland. There were twenty-eight ladies competing from all over the country. Vicki became friendly with a few but mostly
kept to herself and tried to stay focused. She ran through her routine over and over in her mind. She needed this victory to assure herself a spot in the biggest competition of the year, Miss Body Builder of America. This event was her ticket out of a life of working two jobs: one to pay her rent and the second to afford her twenty-four hour use of a gym. With this prize money, she could quit both and compete for at least nine months before she had to think about money.








That night during the competition, Vicki breezed through her routine in flawless fashion. Her body glistened with a thin layer of oil and a fresh coating of perspiration. She wore a white bikini that showcased her rock-solid body and well-padded bottom. Whistles, applause and shouts greeted the end of her set. She peered out into the crowd and saw the smiles of the judges. One in particular was grinning from ear to ear. He was Kirk Hoffman, the former Mr. World Everything. He simply stopped competing because there weren't any more titles for him to win. Now, retired, he was the head of entire Women's Body Building Association and besides that prestigious title, he endorsed countless products amassing a uncountable fortune.
Vicki bounced off stage and ran a towel over her body. Many of the other contestants gave her a high-five or a friendly pat on the butt. She went over to her locker, slipped into a light jogging suit and waited for the results.
She cried tears of joy as she made the finals. All of the hard work and countless hours in the gym had paid off. She was on her way.
But then it happened.
The following morning, Vicki was on top of the world. Tonight would be the most important night of her life. She looked over the purses she had calculated the night before. Even with third place, she would be able to take off a few months and dedicate herself to the thing she loved most, competing.
The phone rang.







It was Kirk Hoffman. He told Vicki he was coming up to her room. There was something they had to discuss and it couldn't wait.
Did he know the results already?
Did he want to congratulate her himself?
Vicki scrambled around the room trying to clean-up the appeared-to-be-cyclone-hit hotel room. Her stomach was doing back-flips. A kaleidoscope of thoughts crowded her mind.
There was a knock on the door.
Vicki checked herself in the mirror, took a deep breath and opened the door to find a rather dour looking Kirk Hoffman standing in the doorway. His chiseled features were screwed up into a very serious look. Something had happened.
"Good morning, Vicki." He stoned into a sentence.
"Uh, hi, Kirk. What's up?" Vicki questioned.
"That was quite a performance last evening. Very impressive."
"Well, coming from you that's quite a compliment." She blushed.
"But the reason I'm here is no so complementary. Vicki, you know that Tom Carson is also judging this contest. And Tom and I used to workout together a few years back. As a matter of fact, we roomed on the road together. Around the same time you and Tom were sort of rooming together, correct?"
Vicki didn't know what to do. Her affair with Tom was supposed to be in total confidence. Carson was married and wanted to stay that way since his in-laws were footing the bills for his competitions. As far as she knew, no one knew of their affair...until now.



"Did you actually think you'd get away with it? I'm sure Tom enjoyed your routine as well as any one. But I'd have to think if it were between you and another contestant, he'd be swayed in your favor." Kirk said as he sat down on the edge of Vicki's bed.
In just two minutes, Vicki saw her life vanishing before her eyes. She had to do something. If this was ever exposed, she would not only lose this competition, but would be banned for life. Why was Kirk doing this?
"Kirk, I understand your concern but that was years ago."
"Years ago when Tom was married, you mean?"
He had her dead to rights.
"The mere fact that you would enter a contest with Tom as a judge was very insulting to me. Did you think you'd get away with it?"
"No...I...I don't know. I wasn't trying to get away with anything. What do you want me to do?" She pleaded.
"I've been following you're progress for some time now and I think you have a great future. But I also think you need to be taught a few very important lesson if you're ever going to be more than a regional winner. And one is, never, ever, try to pull something over on me. Big mistake."
"I would never...I mean, not on purpose. Kirk, this is the contest for me. I just thought, nobody would know about Tom and me. Oh, go ahead, disqualify me. I deserve it."






"No, Vicki, you deserve something but disqualification isn't it."
Kirk grabbed Vicki by the forearm and propped his foot up on the bed. He picked her up and flipped her over his knees. She was totally suspended. He adjusted her so her head was almost touching the bed and her round, shapely bottom was displayed and quite vulnerable.
"Vicki, this is going to teach not to assume anything in this business. I am doing you the biggest favor of your career."
This was a dream. It couldn't be happening. If she didn't know better, Vicki thought Kirk was going to spank her. But in this position, what else could he possibly have in mind? She didn't want to think about it. No, not a spanking. She was too old for a spanking. Wasn't she?
SMACK!!!
No. Definitely not!
"Kirk, no, what are you doing? Stop! I'm too old to be spanked."
"I'm afraid not, Vicki. I'd say you're about the right age for me."
He landed spank after spank over her warm up pants. It was beginning to feel as if she sat on a bee’s nest. A warm stinging glow was encompassing her entire bottom. He tightened his grip around her waist and another score of sonorous smacks hit their target.
"Owwwww! Kirk. I've learned my lesson. Stop please! I'm sore already.
No more!" She wailed.





Kirk ignored her pleas and grabbed a fistful of the back of her pants and yanked. Down they came leave a very small bikini bottom protecting very little bottom at all. Vicki squirmed for dear life. She had never been this humiliated in her life. Her legs blurred in futile kicks. She drummed the air but to no avail. Kirk's large hand seemed to cup her entire bottom.
He sat down on the bed and placed her like a rag doll over his knees.
"Now, this is more like it. You're more comfortable, right?"
Without waiting for a reply, he ripped away the last thing separating his giant hand and her ill-fated bottom. From the first crisp slap, Vicki realized Kirk meant business. She tried to shrink the target area by squeezing the tomato red cheeks together. But that didn't work. She relaxed them and felt them jello after each burning smack. It felt as if this had been going on for decades. She tried to crane her neck for a better look but the renewed scorching of her plump butt made her shake her head in pain and disbelief.
"Are you starting to get my point, Vicki?" Kirk said as he started to deliver a new barrage of slaps to the tops of her tanned thighs.
Vicki didn't think a spanking could ever be this painful. She screamed, whined, yelled, growled. Nothing helped. Finally, she answered.
"Yesyesyesyesyes!!!!! I'm learning. Stop. My bottom's on fire. I have to compete tonight!"
Kirk stopped. She was right. He looked at the two scalded cushions. It was a job well done...in more ways than one. The muscles in her thighs were straining as the balls of her feet dug into the carpeting.



"Get up." He commanded.
Slowly, Vicki stood up. She looked at her bottom in the mirror and could swear she saw heat waves coming up from the two swollen cheeks.
"Oh my God, look at my butt. How am I going to compete tonight?"
"Don't worry, Vicki. By contest time, there'll be a few flecks of red you can touch up with make-up. Of course, you'll still feel the heat but looks-wise, you'll be fine."
"So, you're not going to disqualify me?" Vicki cursed herself because her voice sounded like a well-spanked little girl.
"No, I think you've learned your lesson. But if I ever get the feeling you're trying to pull something over one me..."
"Oooh no, that will never, ever happen again." Vicki said as she rubbed the pained pads of flesh. "Ow, oh, oh, never. I promise."
That memory was only too vivid as she stared at the carpeting she picked out when she first decorated her office two years ago. It needed cleaning.
Vicki could feel the air conditioning caressing her exposed cheeks. Tiny goose bumps exploded over her tush. But experience reminded her that this feeling would be long forgotten and replaced by a sensation at the other end of the temperature spectrum.