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[emma]

Dressed in a fetching pink and red harem-girl outfit,
Trisha Rogers stood in her kitchen humming the theme
to “I Dream of Jeannie” as she unwrapped and dropped the last of several caramel candies into a sauce pan. Then she took some apples from the fridge and began washing them in the sink. It was Halloween night and she was making a special treat to bring to a costume party at her friend Monica’s house. Her boyfriend, Brian, would be there and she knew that a caramel apple was his favorite treat.
Actually, it was a distant second on Brian's list of treats. His chief favorite was bending Trisha over and spanking her bottom until it was as red as an apple. And there were few things Trisha enjoyed more than a trip over Brian’s knee, but she’d learned long ago to play the part of the reluctant participant. She’d beg not to be spanked, protest when her panties were taken down and kick and cry the whole time an ass-warming was being administered.
Afterwards, she’d rub her bottom and pout angrily as if the experience hadn’t brought her to the brink of orgasm. This act of hers made the event more exciting for both of them and never failed in getting Brian harder than a two-by-four.
Just as Trisha finished putting sticks into the apples, her telephone rang.
“Hello?” Trisha said, picking up the receiver as she put the sauce pan on the stove.
“Hello, Trisha.” a raspy voice whispered.
“Uh... hi. Is that you, Brian?”
“What are you doing?”
“Making caramel apples.” Trisha said, putting the burner on low and setting the timer for five minutes.
“Mmmm! Sounds yummy!” the voice said.
“Who are you?”
“The question is... where am I?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Do you like spanking movies, Trisha?”
“You mean like... discipline videos?”
“No, I mean mainstream movies that have spanking scenes in them.”
“Like ‘McClintock’?”
“Ah, you’ve seen that one!”
“Yeah, my boyfriend Brian has it on tape. Doesn’t Maureen O’Sullivan get spanked with a bath brush or something in that one?”
“Maureen O’Hara, actually. And it was a coal shovel. Stephanie Powers gets it too.”
“Okay, now I know this is you, Brian! Only you could be into spanking this much!”
“You ever been spanked with a coal shovel, Trisha?”
“Well, no. But my boyfriend threatened to paddle me with a little cinder shovel a few weeks ago. But I’m sure you remember that... don’t you, Brian?”
“And where do you keep that shovel?”
“It’s in the den, near the fireplace.”
“Are you sure? Better check and see.”
With that, the phone went dead.
Trisha shrugged her shoulders and slowly headed into the den. There, next the hearth, was the ash broom and fire poker, but the matching cinder shovel was nowhere to be seen. Trisha was also puzzled to see that a chair had been placed in the middle of the room. It hadn’t been there before. She quickly turned to leave, but at that instant the lights all went out. Before she knew what was happening, a dark figure was taking her by the arm and pulling her somewhere. She could hear the chair creak as her assailant sat down and hauled her over his lap.
At this point, Trisha was still convinced that her boyfriend was playing a prank on her. And yet the hands that held her in place seemed firmer, stronger than Brian's somehow. She struggled to turn her head and look back over her shoulder. She couldn't make out much in the darkness, only the silhouette of a man who seemed to be wearing a cowboy hat was visible in the scant beams of moonlight that vaguely illuminated the room.
Then Trisha saw the outline of the missing shovel as it was lifted into the air. There was a whooshing sound followed by a loud clang as the flat bottom of the shovel made contact with Trisha’s backside. She yelped at the force of the blow. She'd known the flat smack of a paddle and the sharp sting of more than one hairbrush, but this was different.
It was harder and seemed more direct, it covered more area and it really stung! Another swat quickly landed causing Trisha to gasp. The clanging sound as each swat landed added a dimension to the spanking that Trisha found particularly erotic. There was a certain humiliating charm to the fact that each swat had a note of its own. Over and over the shovel came down onto the young woman's nearly bare cheeks. The gossamer fabric of her silken genie costume offered Trisha's bottom little protection against the onslaught of stinging smacks.
Although this surprise attack seemed like a cruel, over-the-top practical joke, Trisha had to admit to herself that it was fairly exhilarating. She even began to fantasize that the dark figure paddling her was in fact not her boyfriend, but some sort of mysterious stranger who had watched her from afar, longed to spank her and was now fulfilling his deepest desire. The idea tickled Trisha's fancy so much that she began lifting her hips making it easier for this phantom spanker to yank down the lower half of her costume and gain access to her bare bottom.
Just then, the bell on the oven timer went off causing Trisha to snap back into reality. Soon she was begging to be let up.
“Please, Brian! My caramel is going to burn!”
There was a brief pause and then the shovel landed two more times, delivering a hard clanging swat to each cheek. The next thing Trisha knew, she was tumbling onto the floor. A moment later she could hear her front door being opened quickly then slammed shut. A moment after that, the lights came back on.
When Trisha arrived at Monica’s party, it didn’t take her long to spot her boyfriend. He was in the living room casually chatting with a couple dressed as Petruchio and Kate from “The Taming of the Shrew”.
Brian was in a cowboy outfit. After putting the tray of caramel apples down next to the punch bowl, she advanced on him, ready to smack his face for frightening her so. But just as she neared him, her cell phone rang. Stopping dead in her tracks to answer it, Trisha's jaw dropped as she heard a raspy voice on the other end whisper:
“Happy Halloween, Trisha. Thanks for not screaming.”
A moment later Brian and several other party guests ran to the aid of their friend Trisha who for some reason had suddenly fainted on the living room floor.