Fiction quickie...

*Disclaimer - I've never shared my fiction before! :) Be kind.*

The Overdraft - Part 1

A shiver rippled through my body almost violently when I read the note on the kitchen table.

"Sam - You're Busted. See you at 5. Be ready."

I read the note, what little there was to it, again, and wondered what on earth I was in trouble for. Different emotions rushed through my head. I was nervous, that was for sure. It had been months since I had a real punishment spanking. I was worried about what exactly I had done, and how much trouble I was in. And, as always whenever the prospect of a spanking is in my future, I was immediately turned on.

I sat down my stuff on the table, and glanced at the clock. It was already a quarter till five. I knew it would only irritate Spencer further if I wasn't ready when he walked in the door, so I hurried to my room to begin prepare for my punishment.

I removed all of my clothing, shuddering with excitement when I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I pulled my special "punishment panties" out of my dresser, which were actually a pair of white cotton thong panties, and slipped them on. Next, I pulled on a white nightshirt of mine. I took another glance in the mirror as I walked past, enjoying the sight. Carefully, I placed three pillows in a pile on our bed, and I positioned myself over the pillows, face down.

I got lost in my thoughts as I lay there, wondering exactly what I had gotten myself into. I didn't even hear Spencer come into the house until he strode into the bedroom.

I kept my head down, waiting to be acknowledged before speaking. He put down his things on top of the dresser, and walked over to stand at the foot of the bed. I could feel his eyes upon me, and I shivered again.

"Sam," He began, sounding disappointed. "I never thought you would be so careless." He tossed a paper down on the bed in front of my face. "Six hundred dollars, Samantha. Six hundred dollars in overdraft fees!"

Shocked, I sat up and grabbed the bank statement. He wasn't lying! I skimmed the paper, horrified as fee after fee was charged for dumb things like $3 at Burger King and $1.07 at Redbox! At the bottom of the page, in red ink, was -$756!!

"B-but, my check!" I protested. "Where is the money from my..." And I trailed off, gasping once I realized what had happened. "I forgot to deposit my check this week." I looked up at my husband for the first time, and immediately felt ashamed in making such a dumb mistake. "I'm sorry, Spencer. I just forgot."

He shook his head. "We've been scrimping and saving for months now, Samantha. Digging ourselves out of this hole is really going to set us back." He sighed. "I don't have much else to say about this right now. Get back into position."

Without another word, he started to remove the thick, black leather belt that he wore almost every single day. I placed myself back over the pillows, any sense of excitement gone. I closed my eyes, and clutched the comforter in my fists, bracing myself for the first stroke. Of all of our implements, I hated the belt the most, and he knew that. He pulled my nightshirt up, uncovering my backside, and:

CRACK! The first stroke landed across my ass, and before I could even recover from the shock of the first stroke, CRACK, another stroke landed in the exact same spot. I inhaled sharply, and grabbed the comforter even tighter. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! After only five strokes, the tears started. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! After ten, I was sobbing. He was relentless, stroke after stroke, giving me no time rest between. I lost count after ten, as my sobs grew louder and louder. I was crying from the pain as much as from the shame of my actions.

Then, as quickly as he started, Spencer stopped.

Curiously, I looked up. Spencer was heading out of the room without a word. I was confused, and wondered if the punishment was over or not. I didn't have to wonder for very long, because just then Spencer was back in the room, carrying one of the wooden chairs from the kitchen table. He placed it in the middle of the room, and sat down. "Come lay over my knees."

This was new. I got up from the bed, wiping tears from my face, and draped myself awkwardly over his legs. Spencer placed his right leg over mine, and I had to put my hands on the floor to steady myself.

He reached behind him, and grabbed the wooden bath brush from the dresser. He wordlessly resumed the punishment, and it wasn't long before I was crying again. I received at least 75 strokes with the bath brush! By the time he was done, I was struggling and squirming so hard he had to stop to reposition me more than once.

The last, and hardest stroke he applied to my lower thighs, causing me to squeal in pain. Spencer left me there, sobbing, over his knees as he rubbed my back. "Shhh... its over for now. Shhh..."

I stopped sobbing after a few minutes, and he helped me to my feet.

For now? I wondered what else he had in mind!

To be continued...