Fiction or Reality? – Part 1 of 2

I am a writer – an amateur writer – of short stories that get published on a website for the shared enjoyment of a specific topic. The site I’m published on is dedicated to very graphic and lusty descriptions of various sexual activities, with categories for all sorts of unusual practices as well as what most people call normal sex. The category I submit to has stories about adult spanking.

As with most writers, the idea for a story or scene – the spark, if you will – will sometimes, often, come from real-life experiences and situations. Meeting people, observing others going through life or attending events all have the potential to trigger an idea that adds to or becomes a story. Such is the case with mine, though given the nature of my stories I don’t use the actual people or even their names in my stories in deference to their privacy. It’s usually the situation that gives me an idea for the setting or plotline.

This story and its spark came from a particular steakhouse that I frequent. It’s a national brand, but the food, service, atmosphere, and prices are all good, so being the carnivore I am, I go there often. Going to the same restaurant frequently, you get to recognize those that work there even if they aren’t the ones serving you and you therefore also notice a new person.

Zoey was a fairly new hostess the first time I saw her. She struck me initially as cute but nerdy given the large black frame glasses she wore. I know little about current fashion, so the glasses may have been the latest craze, but when I was her age, ten, fifteen years ago, they were nerdy looking. She seated me quickly and was back at her podium moments later. Having seated me just a few tables away from her station, I would see her walking back and forth seating new guests.

The glasses grew on me, and I started noticing other details of her appearance. The first thing one notices about Zoey is her size. She’s a very small girl, easily under five feet tall, but her body is perfectly proportioned. All of her sexy features as well as others are really quite hot. You’d think she had small breasts and a cute, little bottom but when you considered their size and shape in proportion to her overall size, she was almost voluptuous!

I don’t know if her clothes were a uniform issued to her by the restaurant or just any old black pants and white long sleeve shirt. The pants fit her beautifully showing off shapely thighs and a perfectly shaped bottom which, for obvious reasons is something I always notice. So perfectly round and firm, with the tight pants revealing only partly what I imagined was a deep cleft between those gorgeous cheeks. From the waist down, the only thing that would make her even sexier would be a tight, little cameltoe where her thighs came together.

Her shirt was a different story. The white, long sleeve, collared shirt was very loose fitting, probably a size or two too large. It ballooned out of the waist of her tight pants revealing almost nothing about her upper body, though looking more closely the size of her tits was somewhat apparent, and again, I’d guess they were rather large in relation to her petite stature.

Every time she walked by her smile made you take notice of her beautiful, China doll face. A small mouth and nose, but large brown eyes would entice anyone. Add in long, very dark brown hair in a rather messy, intentionally, I think, ponytail and she was really a very beautiful girl! Her ultra-cute face and petite body would probably fool most people into thinking she was still in high school, but something about the way she carried herself and spoke to people made me think she was probably in her low to mid-twenties.

She’d so captivated me that I had to consciously avoid looking at her each time she passed so as not to look like I was leering. It was my good fortune to find her at the hostess station the next time I visited. She seated me in the same general location as before though I’m sure it wasn’t because of any recognition from my earlier visit. Again, I was treated to her parading that gorgeous body back and forth with the same friendly smile whenever I allowed myself to look.

I later checked my calendar to determine that my two encounters with her were on different days of the week and made note of them so I could time my visits to her schedule. On my third visit, she welcomed me back as I walked in the door, as though she’d remembered me being there before, but I put it aside as a coincidence.

The next time I got a ‘So good to see you again’ upon my arrival and I now believed she did recognize me. She seated me in the same area every time and this time she stopped by my table a couple of times to ask if everything was okay in a very friendly and genuine way.

I usually go to dinner early in order to avoid crowds and waiting for service, but on one of my subsequent visits I was more than an hour later than usual, and they were very busy. Zoey told me I’d have to wait fifteen to twenty minutes, so she took my name, and I took a seat close to her podium in hopes of some conversation with her. I’d noticed that her shirt was properly fitting her body now and found I’d actually underestimated the size and beauty of her shapely tits.

“I see they finally got you a blouse in the right size?” I commented as innocently as I could manage.

“I know, right!? I felt like I was wearing my daddy’s shirt!” she replied with a giggle.

It wasn’t long before I was the only one waiting for a table, and it seemed like there were tables available, but I was enjoying being closer to her, so I didn’t care. After seating the older couple before me, she came back to her station and practically growled!

“I hate it when they do that!” she complained to no one in particular.

“Were they rude to you,” I asked with genuine concern.

“No, not rude, and not them – HIM! They talk to me like I’m twelve or something! I mean, I know I’m smaller than average, but do I look like I’m still in school? How old do YOU think I am, Mark?” she asked in frustration, with her elbows on the podium, holding her beautiful face in her hands.

“I’m not very good at guessing people’s age, but you’re clearly not in high school any longer and I would guess you’re twenty … three … maybe?”

“Thank you! I’m actually twenty-four, but most guys just see me as a little girl and try to treat me like I’m a kid! There are times I don’t mind being a little girl,” she added with a cute smile, “but those are times of my choosing!”

“If they took the time to really look at you, they’d see you aren’t,” I offered and got a sweet smile in return.

“Hey, your table is ready!” she said and took me to the same general location. The rest of the visit went as usual with Zoey unfortunately too busy to stop by, but the idea for a story started building in my mind. As the outline formed, I took my iPad and began writing out the outline for a story about a waitress who gets a spanking from one of her favorite customers – me! I had a rough outline by the time my food arrived and a fleshed-out version of the outline by the time I left.

My writing method usually continues after the outline with my just thinking through the story, playing it out in my mind as other elements and plotlines come to mind. I often do this while luxuriating in my hot tub and don’t have anything to write down the ideas, but I’ve usually run through it enough times to remember the ideas and I add them to the outline right after.

This story practically wrote itself …

“Damn it!” Rachel said after I told her she’d brought the wrong wine. I wasn’t angry. Rachel is almost a friend whom I try to get as my waitress whenever I visit my favorite Italian restaurant. She returned within a few minutes with the correct wine apologizing profusely.

“It’s okay! Don’t worry about it!” I offer, trying to make her feel better.

“I am NOT having a good day!” she said as she returned to work. A statement like this would have probably been considered inappropriate to the average customer, but as I’ve known her here at Stephan’s for more than a year, she was safe with me, as long as her supervisor hadn’t heard her.

She brought me my usual second glass of wine and took my order for one of the day’s specials. As she turned to go put my order in, she caught her foot on a chair and nearly fell over. Looking back at me mouthing ‘See?’ had me empathizing with her. We’ll have bad days where nothing seems to go right, and we all have our ways of dealing with them … usually.

It was early evening in the fall with the light gradually fading from the sky outside, a beautiful, cool but still balmy Florida day. The restaurant wasn’t very busy, which I took as unusual as there were quite a few servers who seemed to have little to do. In my section, there were only two other tables occupied, both by couples, and they were several tables away.

Rachel came by several times just to check on me and exchange a few personal comments. At one point I saw her just standing by the waitress station, waiting for some food to come up I presume, and her mood and frustration showed in her face and body language. I thought I might try to help or cheer her up if I got the chance.

Rachel, on first look, is a somewhat ordinary-looking girl. She had a pleasant, friendly, and sometimes pretty face – if made up properly. Her shoulder-length hair was a beautiful shade of reddish brown that went with her light brown eyes perfectly.

She was a little overweight, but very attractive as she had all these wonderful curves in all the right places, and she knew how to dress to show them off, even in the requisite white blouse and black pants of restaurant servers everywhere. Nice, soft curves, in shape, and touch, I imagine, flowing into each other, especially on her bottom which were two generous, round globes that I would love to squeeze, and spank!

My food arrived okay, but a minute later Rachel was getting chewed out by a customer who didn’t like the way the food was prepared. Again, she was apologizing, and her face clearly showed the strain. I wouldn’t be surprised to see tears.

When she came to my table to check on me again, I offered some comfort which she seemed to appreciate and stuck around longer. She smiled and even laughed a little before getting back to work, only to bump into another server knocking several glasses of water onto the floor. She looked over at me again as though I could comfort her from a distance.

I decided to stay and have dessert as well as another glass of wine. Two is usually my limit and even then, I’m feeling the alcohol, but something was drawing me to Rachel, so I stayed, and we talked briefly a few more times the alcohol giving me unearned confidence. The restaurant was even emptier than before and at one point I noticed there were no servers moving about. Then suddenly they all came out at once with Rachel heading to my table.

“I can’t believe it! We just had a short meeting so our supervisor could vent her frustration on the slow night and even mentioned my clumsiness to the whole group! I’m so embarrassed!”

“It’ll pass. Tomorrow will be better. Just get through the night,” I offered in consolation.

“I’ve still got two hours to go! And the way it’s going, I’ll probably wreck the place somehow! I don’t understand it. I normally have more self-discipline than this!” Hearing the word ‘discipline’ got my attention and I decided to try my favorite pick-up line for spanking.

“You need a spanking, Rachel!” I said with a friendly smile as though it was just a comment to make her laugh.

“What!? Did you say I need a spanking?”

“I didn’t mean anything by …”

“How did you know?” she interrupted.

“How did I know what?” I asked thinking I knew the answer and was hoping I was right.

“Never mind. I just …” she paused with a thoughtful look. “Would you do it? If I let you … spank me?” she added with a look like I’d just thrown her a lifeline.

“Rachel, I was just, just, kidding!” I stammered.

“Well, I’m not! I’m serious! Look, I get a fifteen-minute break in about a half hour. I’ll be in my car waiting for you. It’s an old Chrysler minivan, silver; I’ll leave the side door open.” With that, she walked away, but looked back at me hopefully as if to say, ‘Please come?’

A few minutes later, she returned with my check even though I hadn’t asked for it. Pushing me along, I wondered. I took care of it including a large tip and got up to leave, with Rachel’s eyes tracking me through the lobby. I looked back at her with a face that hopefully said, ‘I’ll be there.’

I walked out into the parking lot which was rather empty so finding her minivan wasn’t difficult. There was only one other minivan, hers the only silver one. It was close enough to my car that I didn’t feel the need to move closer. I got in, turned the music on and waited with the windows open, enjoying the cool, dry Fall air. I’d barely heard two songs before I saw her come out, go right to her car, and get in through the sliding side door. Once in, the door closed only partially. I waited a bit, so as not to seem like I was pouncing and made my way to and into her car, sliding the door closed with a thud.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” she said as she started opening her pants. “No warm up,” she added as she struggled in the limited space to get her pants off, “Just take me over your knee, pull my panties down and spank me really, really hard!” She opened her blouse to reveal sumptuous cleavage as a gift to me, I imagined. Again, the limited space made it tricky to get her over my knee, but once there I started spanking immediately, receiving appreciative moans and squirming for my efforts.

Only now did I see the sexy, black bikini panties she wore. Being a real panty freak I was glad she’d left them on for me to see, and pull down over her big, sexy bottom. I didn’t start ‘really, really’ hard in order to get her sense of limits, but quickly knew she probably wanted all I could give her. What I could see of her smooth, round cheeks was changing color quickly as well as bouncing and jiggling sensuously. She’d lift her bottom to invite harder spanks and grind into my lap when she got them.

“I think we need to have these down,” I said pulling on the elastic of the tight, black panties. She groaned in agreement and down they came not worrying about where they ended up. I loved the feeling of the soft flesh of her cheeks, but only got a few caresses in before Rachel’s body language was asking for more. Using some of my usual patterns, she seemed to like the ‘ten to a cheek’ pattern telling me with moans and offering each cheek in turn. She got really loud with swearing and expletives when I increased it to fifteen and then twenty on each side.

Her buxom bottom absorbed the spanks and reacted with undulating waves through her fleshy cheeks. I took a couple of rests (more for her than me) and was quickly chided to continue. Back to alternating cheeks I stepped up the force a little, but the speed dramatically. I’d easily done a series of well over a hundred when I heard some kind of alarm go off.

“It’s my phone,” she explained. “I set an alarm to be sure I’d get back to work on time! I could spend a couple of hours doing this, but don’t want to lose my job. We have less than four minutes!”

I took that as a cue to ramp everything up spanking her gorgeous bottom as fast and hard as I could. Moans turned to cries for more and repeated commands of ‘spank me!’ until finally, she moved to get off my lap. One hand rubbed her flaming red cheeks while the other tried to pull her panties up and her pants on.

“That was amazing, Mark! I feel SO much better and now I get to walk around my colleagues being the only one who knows I’ve been severely spanked and have burning red cheeks to prove it! Here,” she said handing me a card from the restaurant, “My number is on the back. Call me! Please?” She’d barely fastened her belt as she opened the door on her side to get out. When I did the same, she said, “Wait till I get inside in case anybody’s watching me walk back, okay? Really, Mark, call me! I definitely want to get spanked like that again!”

She closed the door and made her way back inside, after which I got out and went to my car in disbelief at what had just happened, but I knew one thing: I was DEFINITELY going to call her, as I wanted to see, feel and taste a lot more of her amazing body!

So, that’s about half of the story I published about my imaginary naughty girl, Rachel and ever since then I’ve been on the lookout for someone with a body like that as I’d really like to make some of that dream story come true. The story was well received, though it wasn’t unanimously liked. As usual, there were short comments like, ‘Great story, man!’ – long appreciative and inciteful comments and criticism I considered both fair and unfair.

I was on the site with my iPad, checking the latest round of reactions while back at my favorite steakhouse, with Zoey taunting me with that perfect body, walking back and forth, just doing her job, of course. It wasn’t very busy, so she checked on me from time to time drawing my attention away from the site to her beautiful face.

One time she walked up silently and asked, “Do you like that kind of thing?” I turned to face her as she nodded towards my iPad with a mischievous smile on her face. Normally I’m very careful about what I leave displayed on the screen in such a public place, often closing the screen as instinct, but I hadn’t this time and when Zoey directed my attention to it,

I was instantly embarrassed. It was my story site and the page I’d left exposed was a story I’d just started with the title “Good Girls Need Spankings Too!” in large, brightly colored letters that if I didn’t know better, I’d swear was blinking like a neon sign with marquee lights!

“Zoey … I, I,” I stammered.

“It’s okay!” she said with her cutest smile, “Don’t worry about it!” She walked off leaving me feeling like the biggest idiot. Of all people, it had to be Zoey!? I didn’t really have any hopes of knowing her any better, but I did like to be with her, however briefly, and now I’d have to avoid her due to my carelessness. I finished my meal looking up occasionally when she walked by with a smile I hadn’t seen before. Being horrible at reading women’s minds I took it as she was laughing at me.

Wanting desperately to get out of there, I finished quickly and called for the check with a hand motion to my server just as Zoey walked by again. A minute or so later, Zoey delivered the little vinyl book with the check-in it. I looked puzzled as that wasn’t normally the practice, but she put it down, pushed it towards me and walked away. I opened the book to see the check and was reaching for my wallet to get my credit card when I saw another slip of paper underneath the check with a handwritten note that said simply, ‘I like it too. I get off at 10:00’. Stunned I looked over towards Zoey’s station and saw her looking back at me with the cutest, little, contrite face I’d ever seen.

Continued …