From the Top Shelf - Jeannette

This is a short story from an American spanking compendium called So Spank Me by Jay Lawrence and E. Edmund Debarquet. I hope you enjoy "Jeannette".

In which a sassy young miss underestimates the amount of time it takes to ride the roads and discovers that kindling is not the only thing in woodsheds that burns...

I slammed my Harley into Three Mile curve with the throttlecranked damn near open, wind howling in my hair and hot summer air blasting my face. The speedometer needle quivered around 85 and the hog ate the tarmac like a pig in Wendy's. I was six miles down the back road with another six to go. I hunched lower on the saddle and opened the throttle even more, 85, 90... Throttle down, clutch, drop gears, clutch out, down to 60 and open the throttle again for the curve.

At this rate I'd cover the distance in about ten minutes.

I was on my way to see Jeanette. Sassy Jeanette.

At least, sassy when she thought I was safely in my workshop with my Harley in half a dozen pieces all over the goddam floor. The thing was, when she started sassing me on the phone I hadn't had time to mention that I'd pulled an all-nighter and got the machine back together.

So after a fair amount of sass, I said, "You know, Jeanette, what you really need is a spanking."

"Oh, sure," her voice had come back over the line, smug and smirking, "You and whose army, big guy?"

"I have half a mind..." I said.

"...I know."

"...to come over there, get your mom's leather paddle off the wall, and take you out to the woodshed."

Her mother had a really nice leather paddle she'd got a shoemaker friend to make up. It got used mostly on the young kids in the family. Had been used on Jeanette when she was young. I figured she had probably forgotten what it felt like.

"Yeah, well, it's a long walk and I wouldn't be here when you got here," she giggled.

"How long do you think it would take me to get there?" I asked.

"Longer than your dong." Giggles.

"Alright," I said, "tell you what, smarty pants. I'll make you a deal. You go out to the woodshed and wait a half hour. I'll start from here. If I make it in a half hour you get the spanking. Deal?"

"What if you don't?" Pouting. She had it made, no question.

Good old deBarquet humping his ass down the highway in the futile hope of spanking sexy little Jeanette's well-packed bottom.

"I'll buy you something."

"Maybe. But you aren't allowed to hitchhike or get a ride from friends."

"OK," I said, smiling from ear to ear, "no hitching, no getting a ride from friends. Deal. Now, you hang up the phone and go out to the woodshed. Take Sandi's paddle with you."

She had hung up with another giggle.

I knew this little witch. She would do exactly that. Take the paddle and go out to the woodshed. And wait exactly half an hour. Then probably she'd get her bicycle and pedal down by Rafter Ridge, so she could spend a delightful half hour or so watching deBarquet humping along the highway far below. Then she'd make herself scarce, her little ass safe from the deadly leather paddle. I had to laugh as I leaned the Harley into the last curve before Jeanette's cabin came into view. She would be in the woodshed, giggling away to herself, probably swinging the paddle in the air, whistling a little ditty she'd composed based on my second name, which is Edmund, by the way.

I wondered when she would first hear the throaty roar of the Harley. Probably as soon as I came around the Stone Finger about a half mile from her place. I could just see it. The blood would drain from her face as the little witch heard the motorbike. At first she would hope it was Lazy Billy, who rode a hog and lived about three miles further along. She'd wait, rembling, listening for the Hog to roll on by and on up to Lazy Billy's.

I looked at my watch and laughed again. 3:23. We'd hung up our phones at 3:12 or so. About twelve minutes. She'd have to stay in the woodshed nearly twenty more minutes.

I throttled down, then rode leisurely past her rutted driveway, knowing that behind her cabin, in the woodshed, a snippy little miss would be breathing a sigh of relief, perhaps rubbing at her bottom. Just Lazy Billy. Edmund's bike was still in pieces. Her firm little bottom would not feel the paddle today.

Or would it?

About a hundred yards along I swung the Harley around and drifted back to her driveway. Now she'd be sweating. What would she think? That Lazy Billy was riding by and suddenly took it into his head to drop in?

I moved up the driveway, the heavy cycle bouncing a bit on the ruts, the rumble of its pipes echoing off the cedar forest all around me. I swung around the corner of her cabin, noting that there was no sign of life. Good. Sandi and the little ones were out. That would make it easier. I pulled up on the packed earth of the back yard, clutch in, gently cracking the throttle with my right hand. There were a couple of chickens scratching at the packed dirt. A rusting child's swing set stood abandoned nearby. The back of the woodshed was directly before me. I didn't have too long to wait.

Jeanette came around the corner, her face pale, walking like she was stepping in dog dip the whole way. Her eyes widened when she saw me.

"Eddie..." she said.

"Cor-rect," I laughed.

"Your bike..."

"Is fixed. Was last night. You just didn't ask the right question."

Jeanette licked her lips, and ran a nervous hand through her long, curly black hair. She was wearing a yellow halter top that didn't do much to conceal her budding young breasts and her hips were encased in tight, faded blue jeans. She was wearing black leather, ankle-length boots with a silver chain around the right ankle.

I swung off the bike, setting the heavy kick-stand and killing the engine. I could hear birds singing in the sudden stillness of the yard. From somewhere came the crackle of a grasshopper. A light breeze had come up and played through Jeanette's hair.

She looked at her slim-line watch. I laughed. No help there. I'd made the trip in less than 15 minutes, including the time I'd spent screwing around and making her think I might be Lazy Billy. No Lazy Billy today, darling. Just Spanky Edmund.

I walked over to her, smiling a victory smile. Her eyes got even wider.

"Ah, you want to go inside for a beer?" she tried as I drew up to her.

"Well, I sure would," I smiled, taking her by her arm.

Relief flashed across her beautiful face. Thank god. It was just a joke. Just for a moment her right hand caressed her ass through the skin-tight jeans.

"But first," I said, gently turning her around towards the woodshed, "there's a little business in yonder shed, right?"

"EDDIE..."

She dug her heels into the yard earth, hanging back from the suddenly dreaded woodshed. Did her no good. I was six foot one of young muscle, and slinging her over my shoulder was effortless. Draped over my shoulder, her little ass was perfectly positioned and I gave her a cracking spank with my right hand!

SMACK!!

"OW!"

She kicked, but I had her legs wrapped in my left arm. I started to walk into the woodshed. God, but her little ass felt good. So round and firm. I couldn't resist.

SMACCKKK!!

I gave her another spank on the seat of her jeans!

"OW!!" she yelped, tightening her little ass, "That's enough, Eddie! It's enough!!"

I stepped into the coolness of the shed, beautiful Jeanette still draped over my left shoulder. There on the floor beside a massive chopping block was the leather paddle, just where Jeanette had dropped it when she heard the Harley roll into her yard. I bent forward, placing Jeanette's feet on the floor. The shed was cool and smelled of fresh cut cedar, a smell that has stayed with me ever since. I cannot smell fresh wood without thinking of that sultry summer day and Jeanette. Beautiful, sassy little Jeanette.

Before she could say anything I had stooped and scooped up the leather paddle, an ominous eighteen-inch double strip of heavy leather, stitched up the sides and well-worn from a generation of bottoms.

"It's time, babe," I said, grinning at her, not letting go of her arm.

"Eddie, I take it back, what I said," she said, apprehension in her violet eyes. "I didn't mean..."

"You didn't mean it if my Hog was snortin'," I laughed, "trouble is, you thought it wasn't even gruntin'."

"Eddie..."

That was enough talk. I suddenly sat on the chopping block and spun sexy Jeanette over my knees. God, she looked so beautiful lying there, her tight little ass projecting up, just the balls of her feet resting on the earthen floor. She twisted to look back over her shoulder at me, her eyes wild.

"Eddie..."

I reached my right hand under her hot little hips and deftly sprang the button on her jeans, sliding the zipper down. She gasped and tried to thwart me by driving her hips down tight onto my knees. Didn't work. I got the zipper down.

"Goddam you, deBarquet," she snarled as the zipper hit the base of her fly. "You're not..."

"Oh yes I am," I smiled, grabbing the back of her jeans and starting to work them down her hips. She squirmed and reached back with her right hand, trying to get a grip on her pants. Her bottom heaved and stretched with the effort. My dong got very hard.

Grabbing her by the right wrist with my left hand I continued working her pants down and away from her delightful little bottom. It was the first time I'd seen Jeanette's ass and in all the years since that day, through all the spankings I've given, I have never seen anything so absolutely delightful. Sweet Jeanette. As the faded jeans came past her hips I could see the cleft of her gorgeous little ass under the thin yellow silk of her panties. She was heaving around on my knees, trying to keep me from getting the jeans down, and I could see her sex now and again as she flexed her ass.

"DAMN YOU DEBARQUET YOU BASTARD NOT MY UNDERPANTS!!!" she howled as I grabbed the elastic of her panties.

"Right, babe, them too," I said, pulling the skimpy briefs down and away from her ass.

There before me was Jeanette, naked where it counted, her ass white where her bathing suit had shielded her from the sun, a tawny tan on her legs and back. I rested my right hand on her hot flesh.

She tightened her ass in spite of herself.

"Useless to squirm around, girl," I said, bringing my hand down on her ass with a sharp CRACK.

"OW! GODDAM YOU!" Jeanette yelped as my hand print appeared in pink on her straining ass.

I reached down to where I'd propped the paddle and picked it up, getting a firm grip on the worn handle.

"JESUS CHRIST YOU BASTARD NOT THE FUCKING PADDLE!"

CCRRRACCKKKK!

The paddle rebounded off Jeanette's ass.

"AAAIIIEEEEEEE!" she screamed.

Now there was a rectangular pink area across her heaving cheeks.

CRRACCCKCKKKKKKK!

I brought the paddle across Jeanette's ass again in a searing spank that made her damn near climb out of her skin. Christ it was hard as hell to hang onto her. Goddam hillbilly girl with muscles like whipcord. She kicked her feet out, trying to squirm off my knees. I locked her down with my left forearm across her back and applied the paddle again.

CCRRACCCKKKKKK!

"EEEEEEEEE!"

CRRRACKKKKKK!

Jeanette howled and twisted back again, jacking her ass upwards and trying to move backwards off my knees. Couldn't do it, I still had the hammer lock on her right arm.

CCCRRACCCKKKKK!

Now her heaving ass was turning a bright and cheery red in the dim light of the shed.

"AAAAAHHHHHOOOWWWW!!!" she howled.

No Miss Smarty-pants now, by Jesus. I brought the paddle whistling down again on Jeanette's naked bottom.

CRRACCCCKKKKKK!!!

And then again and again.

CRRACCCCKKKKK!!!!

CRRACCCKKKKK!!!

Now my little smarty wasn't even trying to get off my knees. She was howling and kicking, her feet drumming the earth, her ass straining, clenching, writhing. I could see sweat beading on the ridged muscle of her lower back and on the straining cheeks of her well-packed little ass.

I applied the leather paddle with a rhythmic cracking, letting it fairly bounce off her heaving little backside. Jeanette wasn't cursing now! She was just howling!! Howling, kicking, clenching. It was absolutely unbelievable. Her feet just touched the woodshed floor with each kick, then came flying up to nearly touch her glowing ass. A dozen. Two dozen. I could have spanked my willful miss all day.

Then I decided she'd had enough. Her beautiful little ass was absolutely red, just flaming. I stopped the paddling and rested my hand on her burning skin.

"Well, my lady," I said, breathing hard, "think you'll jack me around on the phone anymore?"

"N-noooo..."

Jeanette was slumped over my knee, her legs still, her bottom radiating heat. She was snuffling and blubbering. That had been a marvel of a paddling, probably the best (or worst, depending on whether you were Jeanette) that she'd ever had.

I let go of her and she stumbled to her feet, desperately rubbing at her wounded ass, oblivious to her near nakedness. God she was so damn beautiful, even with her face tear-streaked and her hair in a tumbled disarray. At last she gingerly pulled her panties up over her blistered ass, then her tight jeans. She didn't do up the zipper or snap.

"So girl," I said, "where's the beer? You going to be good, now?"

She surprised me. Stepping back she gave me a strange look, a look I would come to know much better as the summer went on, and said "I'll be good, Eddie. You just might be surprised how good..."

Aha! Another convert.