Bad Girls Get Spanked
By K.K.

     His hand comes down.
     WHACK!  “OOOoohhh…”
     Young, smooth, peach-colored flesh instantly darkens to the color of an apple, and lightning crackles through her nerves, spiraling from her buttocks to the rest of her body.
     There is pain, of course, but there is something else as well. There is a strange, tingling heat that is born from the pain, part and parcel of it, like some strange consolation prize. She feels the heat and finds it good.
     His hand comes down again. WHACK! This time she does not moan, but hitches her breath. The pain flares and fades, but that tingling heat remains.
     “Why the hell did you staple the dog’s ears together?!” He rages, and instead of waiting for an answer, he spanks her again, harder. He launches into a diatribe of veterinarian bills and cruelty to animals, but she’s concentrating on the heat. It feels like her bottom’s getting a suntan from the inside out. Daddy’s hand is quite large, and roughened from pouring concrete on a daily basis.
     WHACK!
     Everything about it seems like punishment: how roughly her jeans and panties are ripped down, the fact that she’s turned to face the floor, the iron grip on her back with his free hand to keep her still, the non-stop shouting. Those factors do serve to instill a sense of humility in her, and her rational mind reflects that stapling Goldy’s ears together was probably a bad idea.
     She was bad, and bad girls get spanked.
     WHACK! “AHHH…ahhh…I’m sorry…”
     Still, that strange, tingling heat prevails…
    
     So, later on…
     “GAAAAAHHHHH!!! Who the HELL set the couch on fire?!”
     “Hmmmm…me. I’m sorry, Dad, I cannot tell a lie. It was me.”
     “GET THE HELL OVER HERE!!!” Commands Dad.
     “Yes, Dad. Right away.”
     WHACK! “AHHH…ahhh…I’m sorry…”

    
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     And a bit later…
     “YOU CALL THIS A REPORT CARD, LORRAINE?!?!”
     “Hmmmm…there’s probably no right answer to that…”
     “Shut up! How the hell do you get an A in Phys Ed and C’s in everything else?”
     “Hmmmm…well, the other teachers don’t really motivate me like Coach DeSade does…”
     “Oh, you need motivation, huh? GET OVER HERE, I’ll give you some Goddamned motivation!”
     “Yes, Dad, right away…but first, I made you something.”
     “You made me something, all right, you made me Goddamned mad!—but—wait a minute, you made something for me?” His voice actually crumbles in her ears, the thunder of Zeus becoming the softer words of a mortal man. Part of her shrieks No, no, NO!  But then another part of her calmly says Don’t worry, he’ll be His old self again when he sees it…
     “Yeah. I made it in woodworking class. I hope you like it.”
     “Well, I, ahhh…thanks.” A long pause, then: “What the hell is it?”
     “Oh! It’s a Pizza paddle. Y’know, to make pizzas with. You still like pizza, right?”
     “Oh. Yeah, pizza…thanks…why’s it got all of these thumbtacks hammered into it?”
     “Hmmmm? Oh! The thumbtacks…they’re, ummm, to keep the pizza in place…”
     “Well, thank you. But your report card still stinks on ice, so let’s see what else it holds in place!” His voice ascends to Zeus’s heights once more, and she’s stripped, flipped, and…
     WHACK!
     Thank you, God, she thinks, welcoming the blessed heat once again.

     And later still:
     “Who smashed up the goddamned station wagon?!?!”
     “I cannot tell a lie, Dad. I did it. It was me.”
     “Lorraine, you brain-dead…trollop! Are you all right?!”
     “Oh yes, I’m fine. What’s a ‘trollop’?”
     “It’s a stupid daughter who smashes up station wagons! Get in your room and stay there, you’re grounded for a month! Forget about any allowance the rest of the year, it’s all going to fix the damned station wagon! And you’re never driving again, unless it’s your car, and you pay for it! Now get out of my SIGHT!”
     “Hmmmm…you’re not going to spank me?” Bad girls get spanked.
     “SPANK YOU?!? What’re you, insane? You’re seventeen years old!!!”
     Zeus is angry, but his lightning bolts are not forthcoming.
     Despite repeated offenses, the lightning stops altogether. Bad girls get spanked,

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but Lorraine Guttenwach is no longer a girl. So the ‘heat is off’, so to speak. And eventually Zeus’s withheld lightning implodes.

     “I’m so sorry about your father, Lorraine.” A comforting voice croons, with a comforting arm around her shoulders, too high and soft to be of any true comfort.
     “Thank you, Aunt Corinne. I’m so glad you could come to his funeral.”
     “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. I just wish he hadn’t kept all that unpleasantness to himself…the house fire, the station wagon crashing, the dog dying…it would have been enough to give anyone a stroke.”
     “Yes, he was really strong to keep it all inside and not lash out at anyone.”
     “You’ll be needing a place to stay, dear? My door’s always open, you know that.”
     “Thank you, Aunt Corinne, but I’ve actually got an assignment with the Peace Corps.”
     “Indeed? The Peace Corps! How noble of you, your father would be so proud! Where are they sending you?”
     “Afghanistan.”
     There is a pause, then a slight tremor in Aunt Corinne’s voice. “Lorraine, are you sure you want to go there? The Taliban’s in charge there. I hear they beat women in public!”
     “I know all about it, Aunt Corinne. I’m sure I’ll be fine. Thank you for your concern, though.”
    
     WHACK!
     “Allah forbids the drinking of wine, infidel woman! The punishment is eighty stripes of the lash! But as you are here on a mission of peace, the mullah in his mercy has ordered only forty stripes…wait! Why does your skin not bleed?!”
     WHACK!
     “AHHHH! Ahhhh…thank you. I really did drink a lot of wine, though. I listened to some music, too. I think it was ‘Back that thing up’, or something…”
     “Blasphemy! SILENCE, infidel woman!”
     WHACK!
     At full force, the whip barely raises a welt on the perfect skin of Lorraine Guttenwach. Outwardly, she cringes in pain. Inwardly, she basks in the delicious forbidden heat, somewhat melancholy in that her assignment only has a few weeks left.
     WHACK!
     Counting the lash-strikes is like counting sheep for her, so she creates a mental
Rolodex of colleges and universities to apply to. Someplace offering a physical

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therapy degree, an ROTC program, and some highly disciplinary sororities…

     “Say the greek alphabet, bitch!”
     “Alpha, Beta, Delta, Gamma, Epsilon, Kappa, Omega, Mu—“
     “Wrong! Where the hell was Lambda?!”
     WHACK!
     “Thank you, ma’am, may I have another?!”
     WHACK!
     “What’s your name, pledge?”
     “Ma’am, Lorraine Guttenwach, ma’am.”
     “Lorraine Gutte…wait a damned minute, there’s no Lorraine Guttenwach in this damned pledge class!”
     “Ummmm, isn’t this Kappa Kappa Gamma?”
     “This is Delta Phi Epsilon! You’re in the wrong damned sorority!”
     “Oh, damn. Sorry.”
     “Kappa Kappa Gamma’s next door! Here, take this with you!”
     WHACK!
     “Thank you, ma’am, may I have another?!”
     “OUT!” Damn, that girl’s got issues…

    
     Five ‘mistaken’ sororities later, the heat is sated and placed on the ‘back burner’; some private extracurricular activities ignite it once in a while. Unfortunately they’re not private enough, because ‘The Back Burner’ becomes her nickname among the fraternity brothers with the most calloused hands.
     A second lieutenant’s commission in the U.S. Army Medical Corps gives a decent enough career progression, but still leaves her oddly unfulfilled.
     Bad girls get spanked, whispers an unquenchable voice inside her.
   
    “Annnnnnd out of the gate comes Lorraine Guttenwach, on the back of IVAN THE TERRIBLE!”
     WHAMWHAMWHAMWHAMWHAM
    “This is seven hundred pounds of massive, angry bull—the average male rider hasn’t lasted four seconds, but Lorraine is still on!”
    WHAMWHAMWHAMWHAMWHAM
     “You’re right, Ed, that is one pissed-off bull, but this Lorraine Guttenwach is one astonishing rider to watch! God knows how much punishment Ivan’s giving her—“
     WHAMWHAMWHAMWHAMWHAM
     “---But not only is she still on, I swear, it looks like she’s—smiling!”