Life on Short Notice

"Gracie!"

Again her mom had to move between us. Honestly, I'm not sure I would not have slapped that grin off her daughter's face if she hadn't.

"Gordon ...?"

"No. No. Not a chance. I want to see her in handcuffs. I want to see her crying before a judge. I want to watch her walk off wearing an orange jumpsuit and know she's fucked for life." I was shaking in anger, spitting in rage. "I want to see the humiliation in her eyes and know that she feels exactly what I felt when my sisters sent me naked picture of me they had gotten off the internet this morning. I want to know that she got to live through that rotten level of shame."

A hand came to rest on my shaking shoulder. I looked up in Amelia's eyes and saw there was understanding in her of what I had endured, but still, she was a mother. She had to protect her child.

"Please? Please don't? Let us work this out between us and not let it go that far." She swallowed hard. "I'm begging you, Gordon, don't make what my daughter did to you make you do something even worse. She was being stupid, not cruel. Please, don't willingly be cruel. Gracie needs to be punished for this, true, but not that way. Not with something that will take her a lifetime to get over. Anything but that."

Shrugging off the hand on my arm, I walked to my kitchen and stood there for a moment, cooling off and thinking things over, letting them stew in my mind. The hot rage began to cool, but it seethed down into a burning cold, like dry ice in the hand, it burned at my heart. That last smirk on Gracie's face told me that if I just let her walk away from this, let her get away with doing this she was going to, at some point, look back on this day with that same smirk. She got one over on the midget, played the practical joke from hell, did the terrible awful and then walked away clean. To smirk like that again.

No. Not a chance. Rule one: Don't do things to make them laugh at you.

Turning around I saw perhaps for the first time what my prom date was now wearing. An expensive-looking blouse, crisp colors that made her white skirt stand out in all its brilliance. Meant to draw the eyes to her legs. Those long, long legs. Legs that any little person would have given a lung or a kidney to have and she didn't even think anything of them. Moving to my desk, I picked up my camera, case and all, and walked toward Gracie. She backed up a bit till those long legs hit the side of my couch. I stopped in front of her.

"Turn around."

"What?"

"Turn the fuck around or I swear to God I will have your face plastered across the evening news. Humiliation, be damned, I'll do it." I poked her between her perky breasts making her cover herself there. "I swear it, Gracie. I'll have the police here and I'll have you arrested without a second's hesitation. Now turn the fuck around."

Slowly Gracie turned herself around.

I gave her a hard shove and she fell forward over the arm of my couch, her skirt flying up and her pale blue panties appeared.

"Gordon! What are you --?"

I spun back to my landlady and saw her start forward. Holding up a hand, I stopped her in her tracks. While she watched me, I unclipped the black nylon shoulder strap from my bag and turned back to her daughter. With a single wrench of my hand, those blue panties were down and stopped by her knees. I indulged myself in a half-second look before the nylon strap smacked her pale ass.

"OW!

"GORDON, NO!"

I turned just as Amelia Carmichaels reached me and thrust the nylon strap into her outstretched hands. "Discipline your daughter."

"What?"

Before Gracie could move, I stepped beside her and placed a hand on her upper back holding her in place. "Don't you fucking move." I looked back to her mother who was holding the strap. "Discipline your daughter, Amelia. There is no way she is walking out of this without my knowing that she was punished. Do it!"

She shook her head and moved to drop the strap. "I've never in her eighteen years hit my daughter and I'll not start now, simply because--"

"You will or you will watch your daughter go to prison." As Gracie tried to squirm I applied pressure and pinned her in place with my hand. "Sit still, I'm past playing here!" I looked back to her mother. "This stopped being a choice with good options for you or her when your daughter did what she did. Gracie chose to deliberately humiliate me. She did it publicly, so I'm being kind here. This is as private as she deserves."

"MOM, DON'T!"

I looked Amelia in the eyes and there was no yield in mine. My landlady looked away from me to her bent over daughter and the red welt I had given her bare ass. When she looked back she was shaking her head.

"I can't," she begged.

"You will. And if you hold back so much as an inch I'll use every resource I can to see her prosecuted to the fullest." I was too angry to care by this point. Let the chips fall where they may. "Do it."

"Mom, no! You can't!"

Oddly enough, that may have been what tipped the situation my way. Gracie telling her mother what she couldn't do was not her smartest decision today. Not that she had been making any smart decision in the last few.

Smack, smack, smack, smack.

Black nylon rose and fell and Gracie began to scream after the second. Her mom must have, by this point, been as mad at her daughter as I was because she didn't hold back ... much. Bringing this about hadn't been anything I woke up thinking of but, stepping back out the way, I suddenly realized just how incredible this image was. Without thinking, I lifted my camera and snapped a shot. The click drew the attention of both women.

"No pictures!"

Oh, such harmony, they should be singers. I smirked and shook my head. "Don't stop. These are my insurance that those pictures of me disappear and stay gone. If I see even a hint of one of them show up, I'll post these to everywhere. And I do mean everywhere."

Slowly Amelia went back to whipping her daughter's butt with the camera strap.

Smack, smack, smack, smack.

I didn't pay attention to how many. A count was completely beside the point. My camera was clicking faster than Amelia was spanking. I got shadowy images of an angry mother, arm upraised, strap swinging. Then I got terribly intimate images of Gracie. Her ass crisscrossed with red marks, her legs spread as she tried to push herself over the arm of the couch and get away from the pain. The light from my kitchen illuminated the puffy outer lips of Gracie's pussy, but not enough. I wished suddenly I had taken the time to light this scene to my liking. I would have loved to have a better key light to highlight the welts, or maybe it was the lack of a good fill light to blend out some of those harsh shadows. But then again, it was the very "noir-ness" of those shadows which had caught my eyes.

Gracie was crying nonstop. That pretty face distended in pain and wet with agony, finally brought me both emotional closure and some small measure of pity for the stupid girl.

"Enough," I said softly.

Moving around her, I lifted her chin a little, till she was looking me in the eyes. Oh, the hate there was a sweet dessert for me. "It's not fun to have people do things to you and you have no say is it? It's not fun when they take pictures of you without clothes and you have no say. There is no joke in this, is there? What you did to me was not a joke, it was just this side of rape and I will never, if I live to be a hundred, forget what you did. And now neither will you. Get those goddamn photos of me off the Internet, I don't care what it takes, or I swear to you, you will regret it. Now get the fuck out of my apartment."

I looked to her mom. "You stay."

It was as I watched Gracie stand up, painfully pull her panties back into place, wiping tears off her face and looking at me with hate and her mother with betrayal, that I realized Amelia was panting for breath. Looking at her mother I missed seeing Gracie run out the door, but that was fine. I got to see the first small quiver rush up Amelia. It took me a half-second to realize what I had seen. And even longer than that to realize exactly what it meant.

She let the nylon strap fall to the floor and covered her mouth with both hands. I just barely heard her. "Oh, God. What have I done?"

"Something long overdue." Bending down, I picked up my strap and laid it back next to my camera. "Gracie has had her way with ... everything ... for so long that she can't even tell when what she's doing is wrong anymore."

"What do you know about it?"

Oh, the mother is angry at me now.

"I know that your daughter is the queen of the mean-girl cliques in the high school. She has always been the most popular, prom queen wannbe, head cheerleader type since she was a freshman." Setting my Nikon on the table, I sat my butt on the edge of a chair. "If she goes to Duke and joins a sorority, she will be even worse. There are enough bullies in this world. I've had to deal with them from kindergarten on. Now, maybe, she will at least think about what she going to do before she jumps off the cliff." Amelia started to protest but I held up a hand and stopped her. "I wasn't kidding when I said I could have died last night. Gracie could have been facing murder charges this morning. She came within inches of that." I gave a small humorless chuckle. "On top of kidnapping and sexual assault. No, she got off easy with just a whipped ass."

"I've never spanked my child. Not once in her life has she even felt my hand, let alone a belt."

I nodded. "Yeah, I know." Reaching over I picked up, keyed on, and then held up my phone showing her that 'selfie' picture from the porn site. "Believe me I know that."

She looked at the image of my slack, drooling, unconscious face and her smiling daughter happily posed with her blonde head next to mine.

"I'm so sorry she did that to you, Gordon. And you're right. I've not given her the discipline she deserves if she's doing something ... like that ... to someone. I never meant her to be a bully."

My disgust level was high, but then I've had years' worth of putting up with that reasoning and the excuses that come packaged with it.

"Most parents don't mean their children to be bullies. Most think they have little angels." I got up and walked to look out my open front door and then shut it. "Most also don't accept that it's their fault their children turned out that way." I keyed the lock. "Amelia, you know you are not done here yet, right?"

"What?"

"Your daughter has paid her part of this humiliation back; I'll be generous and give that. But not you. Not yet."

"Me?"

"Yes, you." I walked over to stand in front of her. I didn't care for her towering over me, so I gestured toward the couch. "Sit, please."

Unsure of what was happening, my landlady took a seat. I moved till I was standing in front of her. I looked her in the eyes, my gaze as steely as I could make it. She swallowed seeing that look, suddenly wondering what was happening.

"Amelia, as a photographer of kids, families, I find that bad children are more often than not the result of not only overindulgent parents, but ones that are, themselves, lacking in discipline." I lifted her chin when she would have looked down. "When was the last time you were disciplined?"

She blushed twenty shades and looked away. "I don't know what you mean."

I smiled at her bashful hesitation; she wasn't kidding me, I saw the quickening of her breath when I asked. Hardly believing I was doing this -- I mean after all I was just this side of twenty and she was probably as old as my mother -- I let my hand slip around, following the line of her jaw and clenched my fingers in a handful of her dark blond hair. She looked back at me in shock.

"I asked you a question, Amelia." My fingers tightened even more. "When?"

Her breathing was a pant, her eyes taking in every pore of my face when her lips parted wet and pink it was all I could do not to lean in and kiss her. The desire for this beautiful, mature woman was that strong. But I could see that she was not mine yet.

Her words were a whisper. "Ten years."

The grip on her hair relaxed and became a soft brushing caress from her temple over and past her ear. "My poor Amelia, deprived of something you need for that long. You've missed it in your life, yes? Relaxing, giving control to someone else, letting them take the weight of all the problems so you can just enjoy yourself."

She nodded and for a moment leaned into my caressing hand. Then she started to move away but I intercepted that and shocked her by snapping a picture of her face, the flash blinding her temporarily. In that second of her rubbing at the spots in her eyes, I again caught hold of her hair, lower on her neck, the short hairs at the nape. She gasped and those beautiful eyes went wide.

"Gracie did me wrong, yes?"

"Yes," she said all panting breath and, when I smiled, a visible lust appeared in her expression. "Yes, she did."

"Well, I would have to say someone owes me. Certainly, owes me more than a simple spanked bottom." I undersold the violence of what had happened to Gracie's ass, putting the whipping in a lesser light than it probably deserved. "I believe that what a child does is the parent's responsibility. Yes? So, Amelia are you going to take responsibility for this mess your daughter caused?"

Slowly, she nodded.

I leaned in by her ear, my voice a whisper that stirred her hair. "On your knees. Here." Moving back, I pointed to the carpeted floor in the middle of the living room.

With a downcast of her eyes and humbleness that matched every internet porn fueled fantasy I had ever had, Amelia slipped off the couch and slipped down to her knees. Her hand rested on her thighs and she sat perfectly still. Awaiting, miserably perhaps, whatever I could dream up. No, I could see it in her eyes, she was eager for whatever I could dream up. My eyes were drawn to those heaving breasts as she panted. Then I looked up, enjoying that she was now slightly shorter than me. In her eyes, I saw a desire to be told to act and a challenge to me to make her do so.

"Take your blouse off." My voice was husky sounding even to me.

She bit her bottom lip, looked down and brought her hands to the buttons. One by one she fished them back through, her blue blouse parting inch by inch as her hands descended. Then with the last undone, she shrugged her shoulders back and it slid down her arms to drop across her legs. Enjoying the delicious view, I idly picked up her shirt and placed it to the side on a chair. Turning back from doing that I smiled at the beautiful image she projected. I lifted my camera but that brought her hands up to cover her breasts.

"No. Please don't."

"Why not? These are not for anyone but you and me to enjoy." Moving closer, I slid the back of my fingers across her bare shoulder, pausing to hook the white bra strap with my pinky. I gently tested the weight of her breasts. "I would never post a picture of you. I don't like to share beauty as incredible as yours with those that wouldn't appreciate it."

She looked up at my face to see if I was joking, but saw only the sincerity. The lust. The desire. Slowly her hands moved back to her knees and stayed there as I snapped a few quick shots. Those lightly freckled breasts straining the fabric of her white bra with every breath, the hard nipple pushing the cloth into small hills. The fabric looked well worn. Something she wore to be comfortable, yet to me, it was as sexy as any trashy thing of lace and satin. She made it so.

I saw her looking at me from under her eyelashes.

"Now the bra."

Hesitantly her arms went behind her and with practiced ease, she undid the hooks. It slipped forward over her shoulders from the weight it was holding and then was trapped underneath. Amelia fished a strap down one arm, and I saw the first circle of dark nipple appear. Then she pulled the white cloth out the way and presented me with all her topless glory.

"You are exquisite." When she looked down and to the side in denial of that, I hooked her chin with my fingers and moved her face back into view. "You are incredible. Truly. Now place your hands behind your back."

She moved instantly to do this, with a smoothness that told of old habits. I smiled, seeing that perfectly formed pose, the shifting of her body, the play of light across her bare breasts. The perked rose-red towers of her nipples rising up from a field of snow white. I again caught her hair making her turn her face to the ceiling and thrust those delightful breasts out more prominently.

"Beautiful. Don't move."

I moved over to my "odd crap" corner and dug my two light stands from under a pile of swords, pool cues, and other such stuff. They were DIY and grungy as hell, but when I plugged them in they did the job. Moving them, playing with shadows, I enjoyed the red blush to Amelia's face. When I was happy with the illumination, I moved to stand before her.

"From that first day in your office, I wanted you." I caressed her cheek with my hand. "You were dreamlike and a wonderful fantasy, but I misjudged you. You are far more beautiful than I imagined." I smiled at her bashful appreciation of my praise. "Now I'm going to take a few pictures, but I want you to take the rest off first." Her eyes widened. Amelia had thought all I wanted was to see her topless. I stepped back lifting my camera. "Do it. Now."

For a half second I saw the protest on her lips, but then she stopped. With a nod that was the only sign of the arguments happening behind her eyes, she stood enough to unbutton her pants and let them slip down her legs. The panties I saw were a sensual indulgence she had allowed herself. They were topped with soft faded pink lace and a small pink bow of ribbon center front. She was moving in a mixture of speed and hesitation so for a second, I considered letting her keep those panties for now, but then they were off and on the floor before I could say anything.

In my crude lighting, I was left stunned by the woman standing before me. Without being directed to do so she knelt back down and moved her hands back behind her back. Her eyes were closed and her face toward the ceiling again, in the exact pose I had placed her.

"Exquisite, Amelia. Absolutely exquisite."

Moving around her, I took several more pictures, enjoying the control and distance that the lens gave me. I was so hard I was straining my jeans to the max, the confinement making it a painful for me, to say the least. Happy at last with the images I had captured, I decided to deal with this woman before me in a way that was ... a bit closer than digitally. I set the Nikon down on the table but picked up the wide nylon strap from beside the black bag.

Amelia saw it when I stepped in front of her and her nostrils flared.

I stepped around behind her, my short legs found it difficult to straddle her calves but I managed. Leaning in right by her ear, I smelling the warm scent of her perfume. "I want you to trust me, Amelia. I'm not the type to enjoy hurting people that don't hurt me first. Do you understand that?"

"I trust you," she whispered.

Taking the black strap in my hands, I passed it around the front of her eyes, past her nose, mouth, and chin, then cool nylon touched her throat and she gave a light gasp. I fished the strap through its own loop and slipped it up itself making an improvised choker. I let the end hang down her back and took her hands and moved them to hold it herself. She understood and grasped it tight. When I moved back around to the front she was wide-eyed and her lips were parted.

I placed a hand on her breasts, enjoying the play of her rosy nipple between my short fingers.

"I've dreamed of this. Imagined what it would be like to have a woman in the pose you are in now. To see her beautiful face flushed with the lust she was feeling, but unsure of what I was going to do to her. But none of those fantasy women could begin to compare to you." I pinched her nipple between my thumb and finger. Amelia gave a moan that made me hurt because I was so hard. "You're wet aren't you my dear?"