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Title: A First Date to Remember(m/f teen nc)
Date: 28.10.00
Author: rcg (rcg1574@yahoo.com)
Url: http://
Notice:
The following short story involves a non-consensual spanking scene between two teens. This is a mature subject matter. If you are under the age of majority in your area, or are uncomfortable with this of subject matter, please stop reading now. This story may not be reproduced, archived, or distributed without the explicit permission of the author. This story is entirely fictional, and based on fantasy, not reality.
Comment:
This is my second story, and as always, feedback is welcome. I enjoy reading constructive criticism, but violent flames will be directed to /dev/null. Personally, I don't think this story is as good as my previous one. The narration is weak in places, and the ending doesn't seem to fit. In any case, let me know what you think.
rcg
A First Date to Remember(m/f teen nc)
Anne was a 16 year old girl, currently in grade 11. She was slim, light, and reasonably short at 5'3". Her breasts, while small, were nicely shaped. Had they been larger, they wouldn't have suited her body. She didn't look like a cheap slut, like all those other girls who covered their faces with eyeshadow, cherry red lipstick, and other makeup. Rather, she looked more like an angelic, innocent, and virginal little girl. In fact, if she chose to, she could dress so that she would be taken for a girl of 12 or 13. Despite this, there was always enough of a hint of deviousness in her face to be instantaneously seductive to most any boy she met.
As a child, her hair had been blond. In the past several years it had darkened slightly, becoming tinted with streaks of light brown. At the current time, it was tied back into a short, loose ponytail. She was wearing light blue jeans a red sleeveless spaghetti string top which showed just enough to be mildly suggestive.
At schools she could have just about any boy she wanted. All she had to do was send off the right signals, and soon enough the one she wanted would come asking - or sometimes begging. They had names like Mike, Joe, Bob, Derek, Steve, and Tony. She would date them for a while, playing them for all they were worth. She knew what they wanted, and she was prepared to give it. They would pay with movies, expansive Diners, jewelry, and other petty gifts. She also had Joe's football jacket, and a pair of rather expensive earrings from Steve. When she grew tied of their antics, or had what she wanted, she would brush them off like dirt on her hands. Their pride was too injured too admit even to themselves that they had been used.
The current looser was Mark. He'd been much harder than any of the others to get. For weeks he had tried to ignore her suggestive glances, her teasing remarks, the occasional accidental contact in the halls. She knew that he wanted her - she could see it in his eyes. Eventually, of course, he gave in; not that he was much of a prize. He was 5'10", average build, not ugly, not cute, not another guy trying to be Mr. America either. In school he did pretty good, scoring in the low eighties. Anne figured she could ado at least that good if she actually tried. His only sports as far as she knew were soccer and debating. He wasn't a star in either. She wasn't sure why she had chosen him, just intuition really, a feeling that once she had him within her spell, he would give what she asked, and take what she offered.
Right now they were sitting across the table from each others at a local Italian restaurant. The food was good, the atmosphere romantic, but the conversation stifled. Most of the guys Anne dated talked about themselves and their accomplishments, only stopping to ask her what she thought of them. It was boring as hell, but in Anne's opinion, worth it. Mark, she thought cynically, wasn't much better. He talked about himself, asked about her, reflected on school and life in general. They finished dinner in silence. Mark paid the check, then suggested "We could go over to my house, my parents are out for the night,. Maybe we could talk better in private." Anne had heard that one before, and knew what it meant, but agreed to go. Her premonitions of an easy catch were starting to be proved right.
They got into Mark's car, and drove the short distance to his house. Mark escorted her downstairs to his room, and they sat on the floor and began to talk. The conversation soon turned to what Anne was most interested in, almost as if Mark actually knew. Before long, they were kissing, then Anne pulled away, undid her jeans, and slid them down. As she stepped out of them, her only thoughts were of how easy this was going to be. She sat down on the edge of the bed, clothed only in her panties and red top. Steve sat down next to her, and put his arm around her shoulder, as if to draw her closer. To Anne's surprise, she suddenly found herself facing the floor, her body lain across Mark's knees. Mark spoke, no longer sounding romantic. "How stupid do you take me to be Anne?"
"What do you mean?" she began to respond before Mark's hand impacted sharply on her bottom.
"I know what you are trying to do. I can see through your game." Another two smacks landed. Anne was still in far too much shock at the sudden turn of events to struggle or cry out. "You were trying to use me for your own gain," smack " with no consideration of how I might be hurt." Mark landed four more hard smacks, before continuing his tirade. "Unfortunately for you, I don't play like that." With that he quickly pulled down her white lace edged underpants. Anne, who up until now had been too shocked to do anything but shake, gave a stifled scream of fear as she felt the air on her exposed bottom. Mark held her tightly and began to spank in earnest. He let rain down a volley of hard smacks, not pausing for any more speech. He wasn't angry at Anne, but rather intent on teaching her a lesson she would remember as long as she lived. At first he spanked hard and fast, the slowed his pace as Anne began to cry and her bum redden.
Anne struggled at first, then gave up in resignation as she realized that she could not escape Mark's strong hold on her. Once Mark sensed Anne's submission to fate, he began to slow his spanks even more, landing one only every three to four seconds. As the burn began to sink in, Anne began to kick her legs and squirm even more. Without her realization, her panties left her ankles and went flying across the room. Mark spanked her until both his hand and her bottom were red all over. As the spanking began to slacken, Anne's only though was how she could get revenge on Mark for doing this to her, but soon realized that whatever she could do would only bring more shame upon herself. Upon finishing, Mark continued to hold Anne tightly, feeling her sobs reverberate through his body.
"Anne, I'm sorry that I had to do that, but I just couldn't let you continue along the road you were traveling. I've had enough experience to know that it only ends in disaster." He let her up, and hugged her tightly. She buried her face in his shoulder, too much in need of somebody to comfort her, to care that it was he that had been the vehicle of her disgrace. For the next hour, they sat in silence on the couch, and watched an old comedy movie on tv. Anne would have liked to go home, bury herself in her bed, and cry herself to sleep. She didn't want to go home the way she was though. She also wanted to hurt Mark, to lay him bare for all the world to see, to defile him to the very center of his being. But, somehow, she knew that would pass, it was only her id speaking. What she really wanted was to be close to someone. She wanted Mark to draw her close, to let her curl up in his lap, to hold her tightly, to let her soul flow out in her tears. For a long hour she sat next to him, then, when the movie was over, he began to speak. She hoped that it was to ask her closer, to tell her how much he loved her. Instead he said, " Come on, I'll drive you home."
Mark drove to Anne's house, stopping on the dark street to let her out. Without a word she opened the car door and stepped out. Quietly she heard Mark utter "I love you," then "I'm sorry," and then "I'll call. Ok?"
She turned her head and barely managed to croak "Ok," without bursting into tears. When she went in the front door, her mother seemed to notice something different about her daughter. She was quiet, sedate, less in control. She also looked wiser. Her mother knew the way her daughter had with boys. She had an idea that someone had finally put Anne in her place. She was right, though she would never guess exactly how.?
Mark didn't call Saturday, or Sunday. On Monday she didn't see him anywhere in school; she hoped that was just a coincidence. Monday night, her phone rang. She picked it up, hoping desperately that it wouldn't be some other guy wanting to take her out, or one of her friends wanting to know what happened on the date. It wasn't, it was Mark. "How are you she asked?" all of her charm gone.
"Fine," he responded, "I was wondering if you wanted to go out later this week?"
"Yes," she answered, too quickly to contain her excitement.
"When?"
"Uh, Thursday I guess." She answered.
"Alright, I'll pick you up, same place, same time. I love you. Bye."
"Bye." Anne had wanted to talk about what had happened, but hadn't had the courage. She went to bed that night, with dreams of Mark, and the odd love they now shared.
The End.