LOGAN: Fire Sale

[OTKLogan]

I love women. I truly do. I love how they look. How they feel. How they smell. How they walk. How they…breathe. Everything about them. I don’t think I’ve met a woman yet who hasn’t intrigued me in one way or another. And you know what else turns me on about women? They’re new roles in society.

Now I’m not going to get philosophical or political about it but I think it’s great when I see a woman boxer or attorney or CEO or fire-person. About the only thing that ticks me off about it all is the women don’t get the same pay. That’s just not right.

In this club, the waitresses and bartenders get the same hourly rate. Period. After that, it’s up to them to make as much as they want. If they give good service, and smile, and are friendly to the customers it shows up in their tip jar. If they don’t, they get stiffed. So the equality controversy in Logan’s is moot.

Today, you see women in every major business category, including fire marshals.

In the nightclub trade fire marshals can be your best friend or your worst enemy. They can literally close you down on a technicality. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. But their job is very important. It insures the safety of thousands of people each night.

Of course, some take their job a little more serious than others do. And at times, that can be a problem. It’s those inspectors that you have to be…how can I put this, a little more generous.

Here’s how it goes. I keep my smoke alarms working at all times. I have an emergency door in the back that is accessible twenty-four seven. There are three fire extinguishers at the front bar and two at the back bar. Everything in this club is up to code.

Where I get in the bad graces of the Fire Marshal is capacity. I have a capacity of 543 people in my club. At five bucks a head that begins to enter the serious money category. It’s also invisible money. I call it invisible money because Uncle Sam is never going to see it.

The problem is simple. At least an extra two hundred people a night want to get in. Do the math. That’s a grand folks. So if a Fire Marshal decides to get a bug up their butt about anything, they can go around and do a head count. If they think there are more than 543 people in the club they can ask me to throw out the overage or they can close the club. Not option in my book. So, I donate two hundred dollars a week to each Fire Marshal in my district. It’s an unwritten law. And it’s obeyed or you pay. Simple concept.

On this particular night things were going great. We were pouring oceans of liquor; there were tons of female flesh on the dance floor. And I had just counted a cool three thousand six hundred and sixty-five dollars. Don’t bother-that’s seven hundred and fifty-three people. What’s not to love?

Then, she knocked on my door. A tall, beautiful blond standing about five-nine, about a hundred and twenty-five pounds. Short hair. Brunette. Hourglass figure. A throwback to the fifties type pin-up. A Vargas model, that’s it. And she was here to see me. Go figure.

“Mister Logan, I’m Shelly Morgan, County Fire Marshall.” She said in a granite tone.

She extended her hand and then proceeded to squeeze mine so hard I thought the veins in her face would explode. Damn. It took a minute to get feeling back in the fingers. 
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Morgan. What can I do for you?” I turned on the old Logan charm.

It wasn’t working on this lady. She looked at me like I was holding road-kill in my mouth.

“What you can do, Mister Logan, is remove two hundred and forty three of your customers. Then you’ll be within the fire code regulations.” She monotoned.

Now, I can do a lot of unsavory things. And I have, believe me. But asking me to throw out thousands of doll…I mean, customers, well, that’s not in my make-up. I’m sure you understand.

“Ms. Morgan, can I call you, Shelly?” I cooed.

“No, Mister Logan, you can call me, Inspector Morgan.”

She was tough.

“Uh, Inspector Morgan, you’re superior is Captain Leech, isn’t that correct?” I Scott Turowed.

“Yes, that’s right. What difference does that make?” she answered, all calm and cool.

She was starting to tick me off.

“Well, we have had an arrangement for well over six years. And I do believe that you meet him once a week at the Bel Loc Diner and over a coffee, tea, or milk, you receive an nice thick envelope.”

“Are you implying, Mister Logan…?” she iced.

“No, darlin’, I’m saying it out loud. I give him four hundred large a week so I don’t have to have this conversation every time a new rookie enters the picture. We have the capacity to safely control those people out there. Now, there are a lot of things that are going to happen tonight but me escorting two hundred people back into the cold isn’t going to be one of them. Is that understood?” I barked.

“No. It’s time you understood hotshot. Two hundred dollars doesn’t pay for one of my shoes. Maybe that fool Leech can buy a few cases of imported beer with that money. But not me. I’m a champagne fan myself. Am I beginning to make myself clear, Logan?”

“Oh, crystal clear, Inspector. You’re trying to shake me down.”

“What a smart boy, you are. Now, let’s talk money. And what we say in this room doesn’t go any further. Got it? It wouldn’t be wise to share this with Leech.” She said as she sat down in the chair in front of my desk. I walked around the other side and took a seat. This was going to be interesting. As I pushed myself forward, I pressed my fingers under the desk. I then paused for about twenty seconds.

“Ok, how much? Another C note. Two? Let’s get this over with.” I said in my most businesslike tone.

Her reaction?

She laughed. Sputtered, in fact. Cackled.

“Get real, Logan. Take a good look at me. Do I look cheap?” she boasted.

She had me there. This was quite a package. Hell, her fitness club was probably a few hundred a month with a personal trainer. In shape was an understatement. But still I was pissed. I was being held up without a gun.

“You don’t look cheap at all, Inspector, just the opposite. So what is your proposition?”

“Twenty-five per cent of the door.” She said as if she was saying, “good morning, good afternoon, how’s it hanging?” non-friggin-chalant.

“Twenty-five per cent? That’s…” I tried to say.

“Don’t do the math. It’s nine hundred dollars. Just for tonight. My deal is twenty-five per cent of the door every night or I’ll close you down every night. And I can do it. Don’t test me on that one, Logan.”

I was choiced (a word from my old neighborhood that means you’re screwed).

“Ok, come back after I close and we’ll take care of this.” I whispered.

“Smart man. Smart man, Logan. See you at two.”

As she walked out of the office my eyes were glued to the round, rolling flesh beneath her skirt. Her bottom bounced and jiggled. Danced. Swayed. And as her left cheek disappeared into the hall, I smiled, then chuckled, then laughed. “See you at two, Inspector.” I said to her shadow.

The woman could have gotten a job with Big Ben. At exactly two in the morning, Inspector Morgan appeared at my office door.

“’Morning, Logan. You had quite a night, tonight. What do you make over the bar? Another four or five grand? Jesus, Logan, that’s a lot of money for a broken down club owner.” She amused herself and giggled, then let out a snort.

The lady had been drinking.

“What do you want, Inspector Morgan?” I asked.

“I want nine hundred big ones. And I want them now or I will close this club tomorrow night and keep it closed. What part of closed don’t you understand?”

She was a mean drunk.

“I haven’t violated any fire codes. As a matter of fact, I have an inspection sticker from last week. I have it right here.” I held it up for her to see.

“I really don’t give a rat’s ass what you have. Because what I want is my money.”

“That sounds like a bribe to me, Inspector.” I innocenced.

“A bribe? Bribe? Oh, Logan, that’s so funny.” There she went again. Cackling like a hen on crystal meth. “Yeah, I want a bribe. Show me the money. Ha! Hell, give me the money.”

That was all I needed.

I stood up and grabbed her by her arm.

“What do you think you’re doing? Let go of me.”

As I walked her out to the middle of the dance floor, I grabbed a chair. I slide it across the floor and dragged her toward me.

“Do I really look that stupid? Girl, its time you learned who’s boss in this club.”

I pulled her over my knee and began to pull her skirt up.

“Logan!!!!!!! What are you doing? Let me up. Now.” She slurred.

I outweighed her by at least ninety pounds. She wasn’t going anywhere.

I lifted her up and finished rolling the skirt to her waist. What I revealed was pure beauty. An alabaster bottom that was bisected by a thong. Not panty-one covering those precious buns.

I didn’t waste any time. From the first slap this lady knew she was in trouble. I looked down and watched my palm print appear an angry pink on her right cheek. What’s a man to do? I had to even the color. And I did for a good ten minutes.

She squirmed and kicked and wriggled and arched her back, squeezed her cheeks, pounded the floor. “Watch out, darlin', the devil’s sleepin’. Don’t wake him up.”

I thought it would be a good idea to give her a good talking to while I was at it.

“Listen, miss, if you think you can come in here and extort money from me, you have another thing comin’. As a matter of fact, you have a lot of things comin’. What went through you mind to think I’d even give you the time of day? Enough talk. Let’s get down to business.”

I smacked those cheeks till her bottom was completely scarlet. The top of her thighs also got some attention. That happened right after she said: “I’m going to sue you for a million dollars, you stupid, ugly fuck.” I am not stupid.

I delivered another fifty scorchers to each cheek and when I stopped Shelly continued to kick and squeal. “Ow ow ow ow ow ow, Logan, no more, please. Oh my God, no more.”

I stood her up and marched her to the corner of the dance floor. “Put your nose in that corner and keep it there, girl. Or I’ll strap you raw.” She began to sniffle and cry. Her nose parked deep into the corner. I stepped back and watched her bottom wobble and shake. Both cheeks were crimson and were beginning to blotch in several places.

“Logan, I swear…I-I-I-I-I’m going to sue your ass for this. Don’t think I won’t. You bastard.”

“Quiet!” the word reverberated through the room.

“No I won’t be quiet. You spanked me. And it hurts. I still want that money, damn you. And I’ll get a lot more when I show the cops what you did to my butt.” She was hiccuping as she ranted.

“Stay right there, little girl. Don’t you dare move. And put your hands on your head.” She hesitated. “Now!!!!!”

Like an Olympic Simon Sez player-hands went on head.

“Good girl.”

I came back and walked onto the DJ stand and turned on the videotape. We play videos while the music blares through the speakers.

“Ok, darlin’, turn around and watch.”

She turned around slowly and her hands flew behind her and she tried to rub the sting out of her tush. “Oh, Logan…”

“Watch.” I demanded.

The screen flickered and then there was a close-up of Inspector Morgan. She looked hot and drunk.


“I want nine hundred big ones. And I want them now or I will close this club tomorrow night and keep it closed. What part of closed don’t you understand?”

“What is that?”

“Why that’s you, punkin’. Remember?”

“…Yeah, I want a bribe. Show me the money. Ha! Hell, give me the money.”

“When did you…? Wha….? She stammered.

“It’s all very simple. I’ve had a hidden video camera in my office for the past five years. It started when a stupid little girl tried to extort money from me with a sexual harassment suit. I control it under my desk. And when I saw you were getting a little too big for your britches, I thought I’d protect myself. And I did.”

“But it looks like I demanded money from you. But you were the one who offered me the money to begin with.”

“Gee, Shelly, I don’t believe I had the camera on during that time. I guess we’ll just have to give the Fire Marshall this copy.”

“No, no, Logan, I’d lose my job. They’d prosecute me. I’d go to jail. I’d, I’d…”

“You’d get punished. Right?”

“I-I-I guess so. When you put it that way. Oh, Logan, my butt feels twice its size. What did you do?” she whined.

“Nothing compared to what I’m going to do. Now, Shelly, you will march across the floor and lean over the back of that couch. If you don’t, I will take this tape to the department first thing tomorrow morning. And yes, you will be arrested. Now do what I say.” There was granite in each syllable.

“Please, Logan, I’ve learned my lesson. Let me do something else for you. Huh? I will do anything. Anything.” She began to unbutton her blouse. A generous cleavage spilled toward me. She walked slowly . One hand rubbing her bottom. “Come on, Logan. Anything but more spanking.” She tried to be sexy but the pain in her voice prohibited any sensuality to exist.

I began to unbutton the cuff of my shirt. I slowly rolled up my sleeve. She stopped dead. I pointed to the arm of the couch. “No. Please, Logan.”

My fingers unbuckled my belt. As I slid it through the loops of my pants the leather made a high-pitched hiss as it snaked free.

“Now!” I said as I cracked the belt together. She jumped at the sound and scurried to the upholstered sofa.

“Logannnnnnnnnnnnn.” She said burying her face in her hands.

“Arch that back, young lady. You’re going to get exactly what you deserve. A good, old fashioned ass whippin.”

CRACK!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Ooooooohhhhhhhhh, Logan.” She jumped up and hopped across the floor. Both hands clutching her burning bottom.

I had enough. I grabbed her by the arm, pulled her toward me, took her by the waist, put my foot on the wrung of a chair and put her across my knee.

The strapping lasted about five minutes. The tears came, then the sobbing, then the promises, “I’ll be good, I’ll be good, don’t spank me any more.”

Then the apology. “I’m sorry I tried to hold you up, I really am. Please don’t spank me any more. Mister Logan, please.”

Hmmmmm, Mister Logan. We were making progress.

When I stopped her strapping I looked at her cheeks. They were fire engine red. She wouldn’t be sitting any time soon. And her bottom wouldn’t look the same for days. But as she continued to kick and scissor her legs back and forth I spotted something interesting. There was a slick wetness covering the inside of her thighs. She continued to sobs but then to coo. Her breath was staggered. I sent a finger to explore her softness. It was just as I thought.




“Ok, Shelly, it’s time to go.” I put her down and held her. Her shoulders shook as she held onto me for dear life. “It’s ok, it’s alright. Let it out. Go ahead. There. Ok.”

For the next two minutes she cried with stuttered breath she said: “Logan, I am so sorry. But I have to tell you something.”

“What’s that, darlin’?” I said as I looked at her stain-glassed eyes.

“I am so confused.” A film of tears covered her face.

“Confused? There’s nothing to be confused about. You were bad and
you got spanked. Simple concept.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, Logan. I understand that…uh, crystal clear. But what I don’t understand is why I got so hot when you strap the bejeezus out of my butt.”

It was my turn to laugh. “Well, sweetness, that’s one of life’s mysteries, I guess.”

She turned around and looked at her bottom. “Ooooooooooh, I can’t believe that’s my butt. I guess I got my nine hundred after all.”

“Oh, I’d say so. And a few hundred more with interest. But, Shelly, we’re not finished.” I said as serious as a pink slip on Friday.

“Huh? Oh no, Logan, I can’t take any more tonight, please.” She said with a fresh Niagra of tears.

“No, no, no, not tonight, Shelly. I want you back next week. You see, I have a theory about some naughty girls like yourself. I think the reason you’re so mean is you have stomach problems. Digestive irregularities. I think we need to address those.”

“You do? You think that’s what it is?” she asked in realistic wonderment.

“Oh, I think so, yeah. But to make sure we’ll take your temperature first. Then we’ll flush things out.” I said tongue firmly placed in cheek.

“As long as it’s not another spanking. Because right now, there’s a five alarm fire in both cheeks.” She said as she smoothed down her skirt and continued to rub her bottom. “Oh, and Logan..”

“Yes, darlin’?”

“Thanks.” She said as those emblazoned cheeks bounced towards the front door.

She stopped. Turned around and said: “I’m still amazed at the other fire you started. Care to put it out?” That sexy smile melted my heart.

“Good night, Inspector Morgan.” All of the stupid hose metaphors trampled through my mind. It was late. And I was tired.

“Good night, Logan. Oooooooh….good night. See you next week.” Then she was gone.

It was getting hot in here.

[ladygreen5558]

That was WONDERFUL.. thank you!