Ms. Dana Kane – Professional Disciplinarian
"Hold still long enough and I'll spank you, too."
Tickling Her Fancy
I’ve been a little under the weather this week, kiddos, so the member site update and sunday video updates will go up tomorrow (Monday) evening. Keep your eyes peeled for something a bit different featuring my friend, the lovely and bodacious Cheyenne Jewel – and we’ll be back to regularly scheduled weekend updates next week.
In related news, DanaKaneSpanks.com has a couple new features! You can now comment and rate individual video scenes – a little bit more interactivity for members.
Also, in the next few months, the website will be undergoing major upgrades: we’ll be increasing our server output so that your videos stream and download lightning-fast – and then we’ll be able to further expand with other features.
Running behind…but always running.
oxxo
Dana
Everyone,
When you’ve spent all your Mad Money on fun/evil spanking toys from Cane-iac.com, but still need a few…ahem…other items, Stockroom is a good place for just about everything BDSM.
Cuffs, restraints, furniture, medical stuff, multitudes of different types of devices of general bodily torture, and lots of other things that possibly neither you nor I are sure quite what to do with…but that’s part of the fun of browsing, isn’t it?
Also, I like the tagline on the link picture:
Readers,
The Sin City Spanks story contest turned out several very good entries, and ‘Burlesque Nightmare’ is an aptly-titled, fun romp. I know you’ll have fun with this one..
– Dana
Burlesque Nightmare
Heels, dance shoes, sequined bra tops and bottoms? Check, check, check, and check. I was looking through my dance bag and made sure I had everything I needed for my audition for the X Burlesque show at the Tropicana. Over the past month I had been auditioning for several of the adult dance shows in Las Vegas. I enjoyed dancing and performing, and needed the money to help pay for school. Dancing topless wasn’t my first choice, but I was struggling financially and was running out of options.
I pulled part of my curly red, shoulder length hair back, and put the finishing touches on my makeup. My brown eyes sparkled. I was excited for today. I certainly had the body and dance training they were looking for.
I grabbed my dance bag and keys, and headed to the car. Once I reached the hotel, I checked in at the audition table, took off my blue tank top and dance shorts, adjusted my pink sequined bra and briefs, and pinned on my number. My outfit was sensual, but not tasteless. I put on my ballet shoes and started stretching. After several minutes all of the dancers lined up and they recorded our height and took our pictures. We then did a basic ballet combination across the stage consisting of two piqué turns, two chainé turns, two assemblés, an arabesque, two more assemblés, and a grand jeté. There was a spotlight on me making it hard to see. Going in a straight line was key, so spotting was important.
After all 60 female dancers had gone, they cut 15 dancers, and I fortunately made the first cut. We then put on our heels and were taught a classical jazz routine performed to very fast music. I danced my best and made it through the next cut. For the final round we grabbed fans and performed a classical burlesque fan dance. There were still 20 dancers remaining and the producers told us they would inform us who had made callbacks within 24 hours. I smiled as I put my dance shorts and tank top on and said goodbye to my friends who were still there. I grabbed my bag and walked slowly back to car. As I left the theater I ran directly into my mother. She was 5’8”, only a little taller than I was, and slim with short black hair and piercing blue eyes. Except for the height and body shape we looked nothing alike.
“Nicole Elizabeth, what are you doing here?” her voice was very low and it was clear she was angry.
Continue reading “Sin City Spanks story entry: ‘Burlesque Nightmare’”
Readers,
A couple blog regulars have asked whether I’ll consider putting all (or the ‘best of’, anyway) the spanking story contests into ebook form(s), so that one can read them without having to navigate the hundreds of unrelated things on my blog.
While this seems like a pretty massive undertaking, I’m willing to do it if you all think it’s something you’d enjoy. I’m not breaking Brave New Ground here, but could – given a large amount of time – compile something for e-readers that’s downloadable and convenient.
Thoughts?
– Dana
Everyone,
‘Scorched in Sin City’ is another wonderfully imaginative entry to the Sin City Spanks story contest, and I’m sure that you’ll have a great time reading.
– Dana
Scorched in Sin City
As the plane touched down at McCarran International Airport Marie and Bob looked forward to their 4 day getaway in Las Vegas albeit for different reasons. Bob liked to gamble on table games and slots while Marie enjoyed the other amenities the city has to offer like fine dining, shopping, site seeing, and the big name entertainment featured at one of the many shows playing at the various casinos. While waiting at the baggage conveyor belt Marie gently reminded Bob of their last trip to Sin City and firmly but cheerfully told him not to repeat the same mistakes made on their most recent visit. Namely, that Bob lost all his gambling money on the first day and proceeded to lose all the rest of their “fun’ money they planned on using for entertainment etc. for the rest of their trip on the second day! “This trip would be different” Marie stated as she gave Bob an allowance of 500 dollars for each of the (4) days they would be in town for his gambling. She would control all the rest of the cash they brought for her shopping and their mutual entertainment needs. Marie had made Bob promise that he would not exceed his daily budget of $500 and warned him that if he did, the consequences would not be of his liking. Bob was always a little afraid when Marie spoke in that tone of voice and promised to her that he would be more careful with his gambling. He figured she was serious this time as he noticed that while packing for the trip, Marie put her large sturdy wooden hairbrush in her suitcase. He was quite familiar with that hairbrush and it wasn’t for brushing his hair either, since he had very little.
Check in at the Mirage Hotel and Resort was a breeze and soon Bob and Marie happily strolled down the Las Vegas Strip with thoughts of enjoying the activities the city of Las Vegas offers. The strip was buzzing with activity as they passed the different street performers and the many people from all different cultures and walks of life that shared the sidewalk on this hot sultry desert afternoon.
Marie couldn’t help but notice all the metal boxes that dotted the Strip containing the paper magazines and flyers which touted certain events and adult services. She grabbed one from a box and stashed it in her purse thinking she would peruse its pages later that evening. Marie loved the fountains at the Bellagio and she and Bob watched them for what seemed for Bob hours on end! Finally at Bob’s suggestion, they both began walking toward the Luxor Hotel where Bob knew Marie wanted to visit the Titanic Museum that was on display. Bob was itching to get a crack at the gaming tables and this would present a good opportunity for him to do so. Marie could see her museum while he gambled at the tables and made some cash. Or so he hoped.
When they arrived at the Titanic Museum Marie reluctantly agreed to go it alone and let Bob do some gambling during the 90 minutes or so it would take to visit the Museum. She did warn Bob about not going over his allotted budget for gambling. “Yes Dear”, was all he could muster as he hurriedly went off to find the nearest blackjack table. Within minutes Bob was ahead by $300 dollars as he had a quick run of luck. He decided to double and triple his original bets but soon found that no longer was he up $300, but rather down $1000! He began to break out in a cold sweat as he knew he would be grilled by Marie when she would later meet up with him and ask how he was doing? In his desperation Bob could hear in the background the hoots and hollers of the happy players over at the Craps table nearby. “That’s where the action is”! he thought aloud, remembering a few years ago when he actually won a couple thousand dollars shooting craps in one of the downtown casinos. He recalled that Craps is a lightning fast paced game where one can win or lose a fortune in a matter of minutes. Since Marie would be exiting the Titanic Museum at any moment Bob thought his best chance to get the money he lost at blackjack was at this crowded Craps table where by the sound of it, players were making all kinds of money! “Change for $1,000” the dealer shouted as he handed Bob his buy in chips. Bob quickly made (2) $100 dollar bets placing the 6 & 8. The shooter rolled an 8! Bob just won $110! This was easy he thought. He then doubled up his original bets. The shooter then rolled a 7. “Seven out” the dealer proclaimed and collected all the losing wagers including Bob’s. He was now out $300 plus the $1,000 lost at blackjack. He had $700 remaining in his total budget and he could see from the corner of his eye Marie Making her way across the casino floor towards him. He needed a big score on the next 2 rolls of the dice if he wanted to break even and more importantly, not break his promise to Marie. Bob was handed the dice and he placed all his remaining money on the chance that he could make his point. He rolled a 10. He backed up his frontline bet with odds so that if he rolled another 10 he would get almost all his money back. With confident voice Bob commanded the dice to come up with the combination of 10. He rolled a 7! “Seven out!” exclaimed the dealer and took all of Bob’s wagers. Bob realized he was now out of the game with no money left and felt dejected. Right at that moment Marie tapped him on the shoulder and inquired ”how you doing”? By the look on his face she already knew.
Continue reading “Scorched in Sin City : An original spanking story entry”
Readers,
Here’s a great entry to the Sin City Spanks story contest : “Chapter Twelve” by miss Randy Lee. Enjoy!
– Dana
CHAPTER TWELVE
by Randy Lee
It was seven o’clock in the evening. The bright desert sun was still showing plenty of strength on this May evening. The congenial group of four women strolled down the sidewalk of the Las Vegas Strip leaning close to whisper humorous snippets in each other’s ears. Their laughs and giggles blended into the conversations and loud laughter of other groups on the sidewalk. Dotty, Hope, Lynette, and Pam had just graduated from one of the most prestigious universities in their home state of Texas and had come to Las Vegas to celebrate. Having spent four years preparing to take their places in society, focusing on different subjects before concentrating their efforts in their various major fields of study, it was agreed that this was a time for letting their collective hair down, figuratively speaking. Since their high school days, each girl’s educational pursuit had demanded a regimented life both inside and outside her classrooms. Now that their respective scholastic goals had been achieved, they were here to paint the town red! Hope began moving a little ahead of the others and approached the door of a Las Vegas business establishment. On it were the letters SPA in elaborate script style.
She turned to her friends, regarded them with a wide grin, and gestured toward the door. “This is it, girls,” she announced.
The other three women froze in their tracks, their faces showing disbelief. “Wait just a dadgum minute,” Lynette protested. “We’re supposed to be going to a casino. You know, as in gambling? We can go to a spa back home anytime we want, without shelling out all those bucks for airfare.”
“Okay, calm down, Lyn. This is a casino, I promise,” Hope assured her.
“So you’ve been here before?” Pam asked.
“Twice,” Hope confirmed. “My ex-boyfriend brought me here near the end of our junior year, and I came back last Christmas vacation to do some exploring by myself. I had a blast! I’ll bet y’all are gonna love it.”
“Oh, yeah?” This from Pam. “Whatta you bet?”
“We’ll discuss it later,” Hope replied, a hint of mystery in her voice.
“Hmmh!” Pam grunted skeptically.
Dotty, the quiet member of the group, and Lynette were unmoved—literally—from their positions alongside Pam.
Hope decided some coaxing was in order. “Awww, c’mon, y’all! What’s life without a little suspense and drama?”
“Oh, all right,” Pam conceded. She turned to her skeptical buddies and suggested, “Let’s go see what this ‘spa’ is all about.”
Hope pulled the door open and held it for the other three. They trooped in for a distance of about five feet and again were brought up short. Hope watched the three newcomers take in the room’s beautiful decor. There was furniture of rich, dark hardwood and upholstery in equally rich red and gold velvet and brocade. Satin treatments adorned mock windows. No source of water was evident, and no scent of either chlorine or massage oil rankled the nose. No people were evident, either. Not another soul occupied the exquisitely appointed room.
Dotty murmured, “This isn’t like any spa I ever saw before.”
Lynette echoed her observation and added, “Or casino, either.”
“It’s different, I’ll admit,” Hope acknowledged. “Well, come along. Let’s get this party started. I’ll show you the fun room where the gambling happens.”
She led her companions in the direction of a door which bore the letters NKO. As they approached, the sound of a ball hopping on a spinning roulette wheel could be heard. There was also the distinct click of a cue ball striking racked balls on a pool table. Hope pressed a button on the wall beside the door. The four women heard no sound, but a voice from a speaker above them said, “Identify.”
Hope spoke plainly, “Hope M. 7239.”
“Enter,” the voice said. A buzzer sounded, and Hope pushed the door open. A tall man wearing a red polo shirt tucked into black trousers stood guard at the door. He motioned the women to come in, glanced quickly beyond them in all directions, and closed the door. He gestured to an electronic scanner next to him and ordered, “Handprint.” Hope laid her right hand flat on the glass surface of the machine and held still. A light moved back and forth under the glass twice and then went out. A beep sounded, and the man said, “Okay.” Hope looked at him. He nodded, she removed her hand, and he indicated with a slight movement of his head that the four could move about the room freely.
As they walked farther into the room, Pam noted sarcastically, “That guy’s a real chatterbox.”
I couldn’t think of a witty intro here, but want to share with you some of my favorite Cane-iac items, most of which are beloved to me for their specific usefulness and ability to withstand more punishment than the butts they strike. Folks ask often which types of implements are good for different things, and, while this isn’t meant to be a comprehensive list, I think that each of these items has a place in one’s spanking arsenal.
So, here are ten things I love about Cane-iac, in no particular order and not including the fact that they, in general, rock.
– Dana
1. Exotic Mighty Might – serious bang. I call mine (in Wenge wood) ‘Angry Cricket’. This is a great paddle for even the tiniest of butts, and packs a serious local wallop no matter whose bottom it hits.
2. Love Me Strap – delivers as named, ‘love taps’. This sweet, unsevere strap is excellent for OTK and standing strapping and gives a good sting without hiding your bottom.
3. Curse of Dana Wallop – run for your life. Cane-iac’s rubber implements are notoriously evil, and this angry little square of rubber sitting at the end of two delrin stems is no exception. Great bounce-action for uninitiated or lazy spankers!
4. School House Cane – sort of the epitome of strict school disicpline, the 32″ Senior version of this traditional, crooked-handle cane is enough to bring any classroom to attention. The crook in the handle makes the cane easier to hold and direct, in my opinion.
5. Dana’s Inferno – spencer-style pain-maker. It’s two-sided, walnut and maple, with eleven terrible holes for maximum impact; although this paddle has moved many bottoms to near-tears, I’ve yet to come near breaking it.
6. Delrin Rug Beater – for punishment. Seriously. Usually, I only bring out this piece if I’m dealing either with serious infractions or a seriously tough bottom. Not for the faint of heart, or most other hearts, for that matter.
7. Russet 3 Tail Tawse – excellent all ’round leather implement. This is Cane-iac at their best – a traditional tawse with a Cane-iac twist; this is one of my most oft-used items, as it’s easy to adjust the impact force by adjusting one’s swing.
8. Red Acrylic Paddle – red means stop. I like this paddle visually, as it’s an intimidating bright red, shiny sheet of acrylic that looks like it could (and, indeed, can) turn your bottom an equally terrible shade.
9. Marwood Paddle – strict Miss Marwood’s Cane-iac paddle namesake is the same size as Dana’s Inferno, but a stingy 1/4″ thick, making it an incredibly stingy lesson learned.
10. Naughty Stick with Holes – bruiser. This one goes down in history as having been the first implement which My Bottom’s Bottom vetoed from further future use.
Bring Me Daddy’s Belt
The preview video:
After my recent heated tirade on the evils of Las Vegas traffic and imported ‘cajun’ food products, a long-time friend took pity on me. This was unintentional, but nonetheless appreciated, as he showed his pity in the form of this box:
The box, which has completely made my day even though I had to get out obscenely early in order to pick it up, contained (drum roll):
It doesn’t take much to turn a bad day into a good one. Usually, all it takes is one person being unnecessarily kind to another, whether in the form of word or deed. My friend did that today, and I’m smiling now as I try to decide where to start in this big box of yummy food.
– Dana
..kindly broken into two pieces so it’s no so damn painfully long all at once.
Dana Kane Video Q and A First half of part two (These are quicktime files. If you can’t play Quicktime I cannot help you.)
Dana Kane Video Q and A 2 The end. Finally. Whew!
Live Session Video: Sentenced to Discipline
Readers,
I’m a transplanted Cajun-Country-bordering-Texan, living in the middle of the damn Mojave desert. I am reminded of this simply by looking out my bedroom window, the view from which features a stunning mountain vista in the distance (with the Stratosphere much closer), or stepping foot outside for three seconds (the day’s high will be a dry 101-ish). It’s hotter than hades here, and that’s saying something when you consider the area from which I hail.
“But it’s a dry heat” you say.
“Go to hell” I say in return, “Or just come here instead.”
There are lots of things to love about Las Vegas, but, as Dorothy kindly reminds us every year, there’s no place like home. And for me, there’s no food like Cajun food (throw Creole and Soul foods in there too, as it’s all been served to me on the same plate, most of my life) to make me feel like I’m at home.
Cajun/Creole/Soul food wasn’t something we ate in restaurants, it’s what we ate at home. Turnip greens and cornbread? Yes, please. Boiled crawfish with a side of potatoes and corn? Heck yeah! Boudin and cracklin (google it)? Oh, god save the queen..
So imagine my happiness when a little internet sleuthing paid off a few days ago – I’d done a general internet search for “boudin las vegas” and was absolutely tickled when a yelp-reviewed meat market on the other side of town showed up, with a comment reading, “Every kind of Cajun food you can imagine, even boudin!”, or something close, from a lady who seemed pretty darned happy. So, with images of my long-lost gastronomic loves dancing merrily in my head, I loaded up and made the excruciatingly long haul across town.
*If you’re wondering, it’s excruciating because the traffic lights here are what I believe to be the longest, worst-timed mechanisms in the free world. Coupled with the statistical fact that 6 of 10 drivers in Las Vegas are impaired at Any Given Time, and you have a recipe for extremely defensive driving and long, slow, harrowing trips just about anywhere.
Having finally arrived in one piece, I entered a cute little old school style meat market – heavy on meat, light on everything else. While perusing the fresh meats case, I noticed that boudin was conspicuously absent…so I strolled over to the freezer case.
Aha! Boudin. Mild and hot. Three links per package.
I grabbed three, headed for the counter, and hauled ass home – where I almost literally stared down this package of boudin until it thawed. Painful hours, my friends, painful hours.
Fantasies of smoked boudin, boudin balls, boudin dip, and other boudin-based concoctions made me a bit lightheaded, and the anticipated scent of boudin washed through my nostrils like the ghosts of food past and future. (Waxing poetic about food is not new, I’m just bad at it.)
Since the post’s titled Bad Boudin, you’ve naturally figured out by now that the boudin was, indeed, bad. More than bad. Mealy and watery and soupy and, just….gross.
My disappointment cannot be contained; my mortification shall not abate. Boudin made in Lake Charles, Louisiana, should not taste (or look or smell) like that.
I guess if I really, really want to revisit the food of my youth, I’m going to have to once again revisit the geography of it – and next time, I’ll bring a cooler full of dry ice.
– Dana
PS. Please don’t drink and drive. Or text and drive. Or stare at your GPS and drive…you get the idea. Just drive, dammit.
Readers,
Last month I received several entries for the “Sin City Spanks” story contest, and had a more difficult time than usual making a final decision. Ultimately, I chose “All Bets Are Off”, as I loved the character ‘Ma’s’ line about tickling….you’ll see.
Congratulations to our winning author, and I’m sure that you’ll all enjoy this entry and all the rest.
– Dana
All Bets Are Off
All Bets Are Off
“Wait! I can explain!” Crystal begged as the strong hands gripping her pulled her into a dark room. “It’s not what it looks like! OOOF!” she yelped, the wind leaving her body, as she was unceremoniously dumped onto a hard wooden chair. “That hurt,” she said gasping for breath.
The petite, bottle blonde blinked her eyes trying to breathe normally and get a good look at the person standing over her. It was impossible given that that the large male body was being lit from behind by the bright lights of the casino she had up until recently been happily gambling in. Well, gambling in the sense of winning a ton of the casino’s money by means that were anything but honest.
“Cheating is supposed to hurt,” the man grunted as he closed the door. “Think about that while you wait for Ma.”
Crystal shivered in the dark. She had seen enough of the room she was in to know that it was little larger than a closet. She contemplated banging on the door but who would hear her over the sounds of the slot machines, cheering players at the craps tables, and the music filling the brightly lit gambling floor? Instead she hugged her knees to her chest not caring that her short silver dress was riding up. Who would even notice in the dark?
After what seemed like an eternity, the door opened causing the young lady within to blink against the onslaught of light. “Oh, thank God!” Crystal said as she rubbed her eyes back into focus and saw a police officer standing there, “I was being held captive in here!” she said her hands going to her theatrically heaving bosom, which the outfit she was wearing accentuated to a most impressive degree.
“Detained ma’am, not held captive,” the officer said in a polite drawl, “On suspicion of defrauding a gaming establishment. A suspicion which is very much true given the security footage I have reviewed. And, given the amount you took, this constitutes grand larceny – a felony.”
Crystal swallowed hard hearing this but was not ready to give in yet. She sidled up to the officer her gait taking on an intoxicating sashay while her voice dropped into a purr, “I’m sure we can work something out officer,” she said huskily one perfectly manicured finger tracing a heart shape on the police officer’s chest teasingly.
“That would be between you and Ma, uh, the owner of the casino ma’am,” the police officer said stepping back. “Would you like to speak with her or prefer to take this down town?”
“Fine, let me meet the bitch,” Crystal said, with a sigh, her pretty face screwed up petulantly.
Crystal was not sure what to expect as she was led into the owner’s office. She thought it might be a bit more colorful given the garish lights and loud noises of the casino gaming floor and was almost disappointed that the room looked more like a lawyer’s office or something an executive would use – all dark wood, thick carpets, and expensive looking artwork. “You’re the owner?” she blurted seeing a petite red-headed woman about her own age standing beside the desk. “I thought you were the cocktail waitress!” she said sneeringly looking the young woman up and down.
The red-head laughed, a sound like tinkling bells. “I am the cocktail waitress silly, and you’re the ungrateful brat that not only didn’t tip me but also stole from Ma,” she said rolling her eyes. “Wrong move,” she said laughing again as the large leather chair which up until now had been facing the window slowly turned.
“I’m the owner,” the chair’s occupant said coolly in a tone that sent a shiver down Crystal’s spine. “Marjory Phillips-Brightsworth, but most people just call me Ma,” she said. “I hear someone’s been a naughty girl,” she finished raising an eyebrow and giving Crystal a look that turned her knees to jelly.
Crystal licked her lips nervously unsure what to say. Something about this woman made her very nervous. She looked nothing like Crystal’s mother but everything from the way she spoke, the way she held her head, and even the way she steepled her fingers in front of her chin gave Crystal visions of cutting switches, hard oak hairbrushes, and long minutes bawling in the corner – something that had not happened in several years.
“I…no, it’s not like that…I…I didn’t do anything wrong!” she stammered trying to find something to say to get out of this predicament.
“Well, that can always be decided by a court of law,” Ma said turning her attention to the police officer. “John, would you be so kind as to take this young lady to the police station. I will be pressing charges.”
“No! Wait!” Crystal said pulling away from the police officer who was reaching for her arm. “He said we could work something out! Please, let me work something out!”
Ma nodded and looked Crystal over carefully. The girl was trying her best to look elegant but the hem of her sparkly silver dress was frayed slightly speaking of something picked up at a thrift store and her shoes looked cheap and uncomfortable though stylish enough at a cursory glance. Ma guessed without the heels Crystal might make five foot two, but she noticed that Crystal was also doing her best to look not just taller but also older and more worldly that she was – while all the womanly curves were there the young lady in front of her lacked the poise and sophistication of the persona she was trying to emulate. “How old are you little girl?” she asked.
“Little Girl?” Crystal snapped, “I’m 25!”
The casino owner sighed and the cocktail waitress’s sprightly laugh filled the air again. Crystal was beginning to hate that laugh. “That is the last lie you tell me tonight young lady. The next one gets you a trip with the officer here,” Ma said sternly.
“Fine,” Crystal said her bottom lip pulled up into a pout, “I’m 19.”
“It seems we can add underage drinking and underage gambling to your list of charges,” Ma said shaking her head, “And given my casinos strict ID policy, I am betting you have a fake id in that faux Coach purse of yours.”
Crystal pouted again and stomped her foot in frustration, yes, actually stomped like a wilful toddler. “How do you know everything?!” she said her voice taking on a whining tone. It really was like talking to her own, seemingly omnipotent, mother.
The waitress laughed again, “Ma’s had lots of practice with lying little girls,” she said rubbing her bottom with a wink, “Lord knows she never lets me get away with anything,” she said her small hands continuing to rub under her short skirt.
“I let you get away with far too much,” Ma said rolling her eyes, a gesture she somehow made look elegant, “I think you are long due another maintenance spanking.”
“Wait, what? Spankings?” Crystal said laughing despite of, or perhaps because, of her nervousness. “You still get spanked?” she said looking at the waitress.
“Only when I need it,” the young woman said sagely, “though right now it would be my own pretty little tushie I’d worry about little miss thief,” she said glancing very meaningfully at Crystal’s backside.
“Uh, sorry Ma, I just got a call,” the police officer said motioning to the ear piece attached to his radio, “If this one gives you any trouble just call us back. I’m sure the ladies down at Florence would be more than happy to make her acquaintance,” he said before hurrying out of the room to whatever emergency dispatch had called about.
“Florence?” Crystal said unsure what that meant.
“The correctional facility where you are likely to end up if this goes forward officially,” Ma said matter-of-factly. “A pretty little girl like you would be very popular indeed.”
Crystal shivered wondering how all this went so wrong and tried to swallow back her fear. “Um, what about, uh, well, um, unofficially?”
“Unofficially you get your round little fanny whacked until you just think it is on fire!” the waitress said with her damned laugh again.
Ma sighed and pointed to the door. “Go back to work Becca. I think we can handle this without your commentary, though I will see you back here at the end of your shift. Bring your hairbrush,” she said in a tone that brooked no argument.
“Yes ma’am,” the young red-head said laughing again and flipping up the back of her short skirt to show her matching red panties below as she sauntered out of the office.
“That girl,” Ma said shaking her head, “she won’t be laughing in a few hours when I am done with her. So which is it to be – official or unofficial?”
Crystal bit her bottom lip her hands playing nervously with the hem of her skirt. “Uh, well, um, if we do the, um, the spanking,” she said her face blushing crimson, “will that be the end of it?”
“It will keep your pretty little backside out of jail if that is what you mean,” Ma said with a nod.
“Okay,” Crystal said in barely a whisper, “I’ll take the spanking.”
The elegant casino owner smiled and stood, smoothing her skirt, before moving to the front of the desk. As Ma approached her, Crystal realized that the large luxurious chair had made the woman appear much smaller than she actually was. Standing and getting closer, Crystal realized that Ma had to be close to six feet tall and had a figure that showed she focused as much on staying in shape as she did on her business. Even in her six inch heels, Crystal was shorter than the stern looking lady who was about to spank her behind red.
“Instead of standing there, your mouth open like a cod fish,” Ma said borrowing a line from Mary Poppins, “how about you pass me over the spanking chair,” she said indicating a simple, sturdy, straight-backed wooden chair that until now Crystal hadn’t noticed. “Yes, I have a chair just for spanking,” Ma said noticing the young woman’s startled look.
“Do you do this kind of thing often?” Crystal asked as she moved the chair into the spot Ma indicated. “I mean, you must if you have a special chair and all.”
Ma nodded and sat on the chair arranging her clothes so as not to wrinkle them. “I’ve always found that people are going to make mistakes; they’re going to mess up. I could fire them. I could have them arrested. I could write those people off as a failure. But in a town like Vegas, even with all its people, I’d soon run out of staff. It’s far better to settle things in a more direct, yet far less drastic manner. Speaking of which, I think you know where you are supposed to be little girl,” she said patting her lap.
Crystal was only too aware of where she was supposed to be and draped herself expertly over the waiting knees.
“I’d say you have done this before young lady,” Ma said as she lifted Crystal’s short skirt and laid it over her lower back. “Did you mother spank you often?” she asked tugging down the tiny thong the teenager had on underneath. “Running around wearing skimpy underwear like this, I’d hope she tanned your hide for you at least once a week.”
Crystal blushed again and nodded her head. “Yes ma’am, she, well, maybe not that often, but yes, she did spank me.”
“Too bad the lesson didn’t take,” Ma said raising her strong right arm high above the now bare bottom presented so vulnerably over her lap. “Let’s hope this one stays with you a little longer.”
Any response Crystal may have made to that comment was cut off by Ma’s sturdy palm landing stingingly on her right bottom cheek. Despite being the veteran of countless over-the-knee spankings, the sheer force of the smack caused her to kick her feet and look back in surprise.
“Yes, a spanking from me hurts,” Ma said reaching up with her non-spanking hand to smooth a strand of hair off of Crystal’s face. “But if a spanking tickled all little girls would want one now wouldn’t they?” she said landing a matching spank to Crystal’s other bare bottom cheek.
Crystal winced and decided that this little girl sure as heck didn’t want one! A sentiment that only grew as her bottom bounced, jiggled, and reddened under Ma’s well practiced spanking hand. Tears soon dripped down Crystal’s cheeks and her yelps turned to cries, which soon turned to begging. “Please! I’ll be good! OW! Pleeease! It hurts!” she sniffled trying to reach back to cover her bottom.
“Yes, I know, but we already talked about how spankings hurt,” Ma said continuing to spank every inch of Crystal’s well-presented backside. Actually, the young woman’s exposed rear-end was blushing a rosy pink from the backs of her knees to the top of her exposed bottom cheeks. Ma was a firm believer that thighs should not be spared even if spanks there would show below the hem of a naughty girl’s short dress or skirt. “How about we talk about how you aren’t going to steal anymore.”
“OW! I won’t! I promise I won’t!” Crystal yelped as she tried to twist and turn to avoid the punishing spankings. “For real!”
Ma sighed, “’I won’t’ could apply to anything young lady. Be specific or how am I supposed to know that we are both on the same page?” she said continuing the pepper Crystal’s bottom with firm spanks.
“I won’t, OW! I won’t steal anymore and I won’t even think about, about stealing and and and OW! I won’t do it again I swear!” Crystal cried tears running down her cheeks.
Ma nodded and rested her hand on Crystal’s now crimson bottom. “Hmm…this is one hot little backside,” she said feeling each cheek in turn. “I’m inclined to believe you, but why on earth did you try to steal from me in the first place?”
Crystal sniffled and tried to get her composure back now that the spanking had stopped. “I don’t have any money, and no one is hiring so I can’t get a job. You know how the economy has been.”
“How about college?” Ma asked rubbing the bare cheeks over her knee gently.
Crystal sighed, “I can barely afford rent, let alone college,” she said wiping her tears with on hand, while leaving the other on the carpet to support herself.
Ma nodded and patted Crystal’s bottom causing the young woman to tense. “Oh, sorry, it helps me think,” she said noticing her distress. “I have a proposition for you – one I made once before and so far have not regretted. How about you come and work here for me?”
“Wait, work here? Uh, really? I just cheated and tried to steal money from you,” Crystal said her tone of voice reflecting the shock her face was showing.
“Well, I’ve found that ‘it takes one to know one’ is certainly true when it comes to cheats and thieves. Becca must have caught two dozen cheats by now. Who do you think tipped security off to your little scheme?” Ma asked.
“Becca? The waitress?” Crystal gasped.
“One and the same,” Ma said with a smile. “So what do you say?”
“Um, what’s the catch?”
“Well, if I ever catch you stealing or cheating again you will be arrested, and if your attitude or work ethic ever slips you will find yourself right back where you are now – over my knee getting your little behind smacked until it steams. Besides that I will pay you a fair wage and pay your tuition. Of course, if your grades ever slip below a B, you won’t sit for a week. It’s the same arrangement I have with Becca.”
“I’ll do it,” Crystal said with a small nod. It was the best offer she’s had in years.
“Great. I’ll draw up the legal documents and get Becca to get you a uniform. You can start tonight. I hope you can serve drinks with a sore bottom,” Ma said giving Crystal’s bottom another smack for good measure. “Welcome to the family.”