Hypno Harem 2: Harem-Scarem! (4 page)

“I think it’s very arousing. This person who spanks you, is that a man or a woman?”

“Usually a man but sometimes it’s a woman.”

“And how does he spank you? Does he put you over his knee and hit you with his hand?”

“Well, sometimes but that’s usually not hard enough. I like to get spanked with a paddle, something nice and hard. Switches are okay but I prefer something broad so more of my ass gets walloped. My dad once spanked me with a ping-pong paddle. Just the thought of… Oh God, I’m getting wet!”

“Are you?”

“Uh-huh.” Roberta took Woody’s hand and guided it to a dark spot on her charcoal skirt. “Feel that?”

“You sure are,” Woody said.

Roberta bit her lip. A fantastic idea had just come into her mind. She’d only known her new client for twenty minutes or so but she had this
incredible
… Did she dare? She would!

She pressed Woody’s hand against her moist spot. “Woody, I have this… I’d really like… Uh, I’m having trouble getting this out. I’ve never asked a client to… ah…”

Woody smiled warmly. “Tell me, Dr. Crofts-Bailey.”

“Oh, please, call me Roberta!”

“All right, Roberta.”

She blushed. “In fact, call me…
Berta
. Would you do that?”

“Sure. That’s what your family calls you?”

“Not anymore. That was Mommy and Daddy called me when I was little.”

“All right, Berta. Now what is you want to ask me to do?”

“SPANK ME!”
she shrieked. “Spank me, spank me, spank me, please. Oh, say you will. Oh God, I’d love for you to make my ass red!”

“You really want that? You barely know me.”

“I’ve never wanted anything more,” she said with desperate urgency. Roberta suddenly rose and undid her belt, pulling her skirt to her ankles. Woody thought she was going to take it off but instead she dived face-down across his lap, ass across his legs. “Pull my pantyhose down and lay into me! I can’t wait!”

He could feel her wet vagina on his thighs. “Berta,” he said with deliberation, “as tempted as I am to blister your bottom right now, I want to do this right.”

She wriggled on his lap, grinding her groin against his legs. “You can’t do it wrong,” she said, face buried in the sofa. “Just raise your hand and aim for my butt!”

“You don’t have a paddle or switch or quirt here?”

“Not in the office.”

“Get up.”

“What?”

“Get off me.”

“Not until you beat me raw!”

“I’m going to beat you raw all right but not with my hand.”

“Use your shoe then. Anything! Just don’t make me wait. I can’t stand it!”

“I want you to get off me so we can go to the store.”

She turned her head and looked at him with interest. “Store? You mean like a novelty store? You want to buy a spanking paddle?”

“No, we’re going to a sporting goods store to buy a ping-pong paddle.”

“Oh GOD!” she shrieked. “Oh God, what a great idea! Oh that gets me
so
wet.” She squirmed off him and got to her feet. “Let me grab my purse and let’s go!” She took a step and tripped on the skirt around her ankles, toppling to the floor.

Woody rose. “Are you all right?” 

“Yeah, forgot about this stupid skirt is all.” Still on the floor, she raised her legs and shucked it over her heels, then ran to her desk and pulled her purse from a drawer. “Got it!” She headed to the door. “C’mon!”

“Berta,” said Woody. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

She turned at the door, stylishly attired in her maroon bolero jacket, silk cream blouse and skin-colored pantyhose. “Forget? What? Oh! What time is it?”

Woody consulted his watch. One thirty-two.”

“Thanks for reminding me. Someone’s coming in at two and someone else at three. I need to cancel those appointments. Once you finish my punishment, you need to make me stand in the corner for at least an hour.” She pulled out her phone and texted her clients. A minute later she tucked it back in her purse. “All done. Let’s get going.” She opened the door and gestured to him. “What are you waiting for?”

“You need to put your skirt on.”

She looked down and giggled. “Oh! So I do!” She grabbed the skirt off the floor, sat on the sofa and hastily pulled it on. “Okay.
Now
let’s go. I’ll drive.”

“No,” said Woody, pulling out his phone. “I think we should use Uber.”

T
he pair
in the back of his Buick were Mike Harke’s third ride of the day. They were odd ducks, the woman at least ten years older than the man. When they got in, she was dressed very chic, like a professional of some kind, maybe in marketing. He was dressed like a college kid. At first Mike thought maybe he was her younger brother but from their conversation it was clear they were a couple. They had him take them to a mall. The guy gave him three twenties and asked him to wait; they might be as long as a couple of hours. Fine with Mike.

When they came back, it was all he could do not to stare. They had shopping bags and the woman had completely changed clothes, different from head to toe. Gone were her heels, replaced by a pair of Mary Janes like his daughter wore. The pantyhose had been traded for a pair of white tights and in place of her blouse and pencil skirt, she was wearing—if you could believe it—a Minnie Mouse dress, red with big black polka dots and a flared skirt. They must have gone to a hair salon too because her stylish coif was gone, replaced by a pair of pigtails held in place by bright red bows.

He would have thought they were going to a costume party but the guy was wearing the same clothes as before. They had him drive them to an REI and wait again, though not as long. This time they came back with only one sack.

“Where to now?” Mike asked.

“Anywhere,” said the guy. “Just drive around for the next hour. Okay?”

“Okay with me so long as you pay.”

“No problem,” said the guy. “Just drive.” They started opening the REI package, oblivious to him. He never tried to eavesdrop on his passengers but unless people whispered it was hard not to hear. Sometimes he put on ear buds if it was clear riders wanted some privacy but these two didn’t seem to care. The conversation got steadily more interesting.

“Too bad we had to buy four of them,” said the guy. “It’ll take a long time to wear four paddles out.”

“Depends on how hard you hit my ass,” giggled the woman.

“Don’t use that kind of language. I told you I forbid that word.”

“I’ll use it if I
want
,” she said huffily. “I’m a big girl now, Daddee, and I can say anything I
want
.”

“Not in my presence, little miss.”

She stuck out her tongue. “I will if I
want
!”

“No you won’t.”

“Yes I will. I’ll say ‘ass’ all I
want
.”

“Stop that!”

“Ass, ass, ass,” she smirked. “Nyah, nyah, nyah.” She stuck out her tongue again.

“Not another word out of you or you’re getting a spanking.”

Her eyebrows fretted together and her lips pouted. “You wouldn’t
dare!
” she hissed angrily.

“Oh, wouldn’t I?”

“
ASS!
” she shrieked, folding her arms defiantly.

“That does it!” he said, grabbing her arm and dragging her across his lap.

“Let me go, let me go!” she screamed in fury, her shoes flailing the air.

Waiting for a red light to change, Mike’s eyes were glued to the rearview. A horn blast behind him jolted him to awareness.
Don’t watch,
he told himself
. Eyes on the road, eyes on the road. Listen all you want but don’t watch.

It was hard not to glance though and with occasional quick flicks to the rearview, he caught most of the action that went along with the yells and cries. He thought of using his phone to get a video of them but he needed both hands for that. Too bad, this would go viral in an hour. They were paying no attention to him, although it was hard to believe they were unaware they had an audience.

The guy had pulled up the woman’s polka dot skirt and pulled down her tights. What a delicious creamy ass! Round and perfect as a nineteen-year-old. God bless her, she certainly kept herself in shape.

“Let me go, you big bully!” she yelled. “Don’t touch me!”

“Oh
I’m
not going to touch you. Here’s what’s going to touch you.” Mike’s eyes flicked to the rearview just in time to see—Jesus Christ!—a green ping-pong paddle just they had at home. The paddle rose, hovered, and came down.

WHAP!

“Ohhh! That
hurts!
”

“It’s supposed to hurt!” the guy said. Suddenly he was looking at Mike. Mike guiltily shifted his eyes back to the road. “Excuse me, sir,” said the guy. “Excuse me.”

“What?” Mike said in confusion. “Who? You mean me?” This was weird, like someone on television turning and talking to you.

“Yes. I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.”

“Lemme go!”
shrieked the woman.

“Mike. I’m Mike.”

“Lemme go or I’ll bite your leg!”

“Little miss, you bite my leg and you won’t sit down for a week.” He turned back to Mike. “Would you do me a favor, Mike?”

“Listen buddy,” Mike said defensively. “I’m not trying to spy but I can’t help but—”

“Oh no, look all you want. I just want you to count for me.”

“Count?”

“I’m going to scream if you don’t lemme go!”

“Yes, out loud. A count of ten at, uh, intervals of six or seven seconds. It would be a big help. You can see I’ve got my hands—Stop that, young lady!—my hands full. Will you do that for me?”

“I guess so.”

“Thank you so much. Berta, I said stop!”

“When do I start?”

“You’re breaking my arm!”

“I am not!… Right now.”

“Start counting now?”

“Yes.… You’re going to rue the day you defied me!”

“One,” said Mike. The paddle went up, then down.

WHAP!

“
Owww!
Stop it, stop it!”

“Two,” said Mike.

WHAP!

“
Owww!
That hurts! Please stop!”

“Three.”

“WHAP!”

“
Owwww!
No more! I’ll be good.”

In the backseat, Berta’s ass burned like fire. The heat was spreading out of her rear and into the rest of her body, especially her pussy, which rested naked on Daddy’s jeans and was getting them wet. Oh, oh, she’d never been so turned on!

“Four.”

WHAP!

“
Owww!
” Berta screamed. “I’ve learned my lesson, Daddee. I’ll never use bad language again.” She wriggled her pussy up and down on the rough jeans. She wanted to put her finger in her slit and play with herself but Daddy gripped both her little wrists in his big strong hand and she couldn’t break free. She was a bad little girl but she loved her daddy
so
much!

“Five,” said Mike.

Woody slammed the paddle down hard on Berta’s round red bottom. Now he not only felt her excitement on his legs but
smelled
it too. She was one hot little brat, all right! The feel of her grinding against his groin made his cock stand up.

“Six,” said Mike, who discovered he had an erection of his own. He’d never been into spanking himself, never even watched a video. But the real thing—in his car!—was a huge turn-on. He steered the Buick to a parkway where there were few red lights and the traffic was regular. He was keeping his eyes on the road for the most part but the sound was arousing in itself. The woman could shriek like a bobcat. The lungs under those breasts must be bigger than her boobs, which was saying something.

“Seven.”

WHAP!

“
Owwwwwwww, owwwww!
” Between shrieks, Berta was bawling non-stop. Her ass was on fire, her pussy too. Red hot! And so flooded with pussy juice, you’d think it would put out the fire but it only made her got hotter and hotter. And the knowledge that her punishment was being witnessed by this complete stranger, Mr. Driver, made her face burn with shame and stoked the fire in her girl parts even higher.

“Eight,” said Mr. Driver.

WHAP!

“
Owwww
!
Oh-oh! It hurts!”

All three of the occupants of the car—Daddy, Berta and Mr. Driver—were hot and aroused now. Their collective heat filled the car and drove up the temperature. Mike was sweating copiously and when he glanced at the rearview, he could see drops on the guy’s forehead. The woman—What did he call her? Oh yeah, Berta—she must be sweating too. It was like a sauna in here!