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Chapter One: The Assignment

As a free-lance reporter, Jennifer Jensen was willing and able to accept any assignment that came her way, from fashion trends to criminal trials, just as long as her editors paid the bill. This story, though, was so shocking, she wondered if she would not be better off working as a substitute history teacher again.

“You really want me to go to that PLACE?” she demanded, gasping in outrage. “Why don’t you send me to a house of ill fame and be done with it!”

“Just think the thing through logically,” the editor replied, in his most reasonable tone. “This new spanking theme park could be the scoop of the year, especially if you go there in June when the schools are closed, so you will find lots of people to interview. They will all be grownups, of course. The children will be off playing at some other park, since this one is strictly adults only.

“And if you are not willing to take the assignment… well, this is June, like I said. A lot of journalism students will be graduating from colleges and universities, and they will be more than willing to take any job that comes their way, even as unpaid interns. They would jump at the chance to cover a scandal like this one. That is IF you feel that is too scandalous for YOU.”

From the long silence that followed, he knew that she felt no such thing.

“But… but… sending me there to watch men spanking women, in order to earn my pay? I don’t know if that makes me a professional journalist or a plain pornographer.”

“What difference does it make?” he demanded. “Either way, it is NEWS.” Shrewdly, he added, “And it could even lead to a full-time job on a major daily newspaper, rather than selling free-lance stories to a local weekly like ours. Of course we would put up the admission fee, at $1,000 per day, and the hotel room and meals along with it, plus you would still get your usual payment.”

“I must admit that is tempting,” she reluctantly replied.

“And like the man said,” he triumphantly told her, “the only way to get rid of temptation is by giving in to it.”

“But I will not get spanked myself!” she cried.

“Of course not! I know that we could not pay you enough for THAT! No, like all the other visitors, you will only be watching the shows.”

“The spanking shows, you mean.”

“Exactly! So I promise that you would never have to put up with any public punishments yourself.”

But, as it turned out, this was not a promise he would be able to keep.

***

Even though she didn’t know about the serious spankings that awaited her, Jennifer wondered if she would be able to go through with this strange assignment. Just watching the customers while they stared at those perverted performers… How could she even hide her own disgust and outrage? She found herself shaking her red curls at the very thought.

Her parents would have shared her opinion. They had never believed in spanking, and she had grown up sharing their feelings. She would never admit though, even to herself, that she had grown up being curious about it, too.

Chapter Two: Wild Wild West

Noting the attractive young couple who were walking eagerly to the gate, she decided she could easily use them in her story. “Hi, I am Jennifer Jensen,” she told them, as she hurried to catch up. “Isn’t it exciting to be here?”

“It sure is!” the man answered, with a grin. He put his arm around the woman who walked beside him, and she smiled up at him in reply.

“I’m Henry Bradley, and this is the new Mrs. Melanie Bradley,” he said. “We are on our honeymoon, and we can’t think of a better place to be, especially since Melanie is a teacher. That means we have an entire month to enjoy ourselves, now that the schools are closed.”

And I can’t think of a better quote for my first paragraph, Jennifer thought, while sharing his broad grin. He just handed it to me on a silver platter. Of course, she quickly reminded herself, I would never embarrass them by using their names.

“Well then, congratulations!” she responded. “And I hope you enjoy the fun. As you see, there is plenty to be had here. Just look around at all the signs, in front of the winding wooded paths. They lead to the Randy Roman Empire, Viking Violence, Pirate’s Island, Victoria’s Spanking Secret, Wild Wild West, Greatest Spanking Show, Bedtime Spanking Stories, Spanking School Daze and Space Spanking.”

“But we are not just here for fun,” the bridegroom told her firmly. “No, we came here to see how spankings should be administered – for both punishment and pleasure, as my wife here likes to say. Some would say that we should choose between them, but she insists that we can have both.”

“Then you are very fortunate indeed!” Jennifer told them. And so am I, she told herself silently, since their story is practically writing itself. Her smile grew even friendlier at the thought. “Do you mind if a tag along?” she asked. They assured her that they did not mind at all.

* * *

Jennifer could not help being impressed by the Wild West setting that appeared at the end of the path. It was completely authentic, from the dirt-covered streets to the rickety wooden buildings, with hand-painted signs advertising the ‘Federal Bank’, the ‘Wilderness Tavern’, the ‘Opera House’ and, of course, the ‘Frontier Gift Shop’.

Naturally, the so-called ‘opera house’ was no such thing. It was a vaudeville theater, where the billboard promised a juggler, a magician, a comedian, an orchestra and a chorus of ten high-kicking can-can girls, who were performing as the curtain rose.

So far, Jennifer could only admire the authentic 19th century entertainment, while wondering what it had to do with spanking. The only clue that spanking was involved came from the crimson velvet chair that stood on one side of the stage.

She knew she would be watching the spanking scenes soon enough, though, when the sheriff strode through the aisle and bounded up the steps onto the stage to the audience’s applause.

He, too, was authentically clad, in denim trousers and a cowboy hat, with a five-pointed star pinned to his plaid shirt. The only unauthentic thing about him was his incredible good looks, which would certainly have won him a place on the New York stage, during any century.

Standing more than six feet tall, with tousled brown hair above his perfectly chiseled features, he also displayed the rippling muscles and wide, square hands that seemed sure to provide the promised entertainment.

Those hands waved for the music to stop, and the musicians obediently fell silent. Dropping the skirts that they still held at their waists, the girls gaped at him with a great show of dismay.

“What is the problem, Sheriff Stanton?” one of the ladies asked.

For answer, he glared down at her from above his powerful folded arms. “You know very well what the problem is, Miss Marci,” he sternly replied. “I have warned you and your women again and again to stop doing that indecent illegal dance, with you lifting your skirts up and waving them around, while you kick up your feet. Obviously, you have not obeyed me. So now you must pay the price.”

The audience burst into applause, realizing that they would finally fully enjoy the performance they had come to see.

“Wh-why… what do you mean?” the pretty brunette asked, drawing back with a great show of fright.

“I’ll show you exactly what I’m talking about!” Grasping Marci’s arm, he pulled her to the armchair that stood in front of the stage. Ignoring her frantic struggles, he sat down heavily and dragged her over his knee, while the spectators cheered and clapped.

But this must be only an act, Jennifer told herself, ignoring the feelings that were stirring in her own lower body, making it difficult to keep herself from wriggling in her seat. Surely the dancers must be wearing padded panties to cover their behinds.

She gasped in amazement, as the sheriff yanked up the lead dancer’s skirts and pulled down her panties, exposing her bare bottom for all to see.

Now the girl was kicking so frantically, the audience felt sure that that was not a performance at all. The scene seemed even more convincing, when the sheriff raised his strong, square arm high over his head, above her writhing bottom.

Her scream was even more convincing, as he brought down his hand with all his force, across her backside. Soon she was howling frantically, as he struck her again and again. He left bright pink handprints that grew steadily darker, from flaming red to an angry crimson that was almost as bright as the velvet chairs. As the punishment went on and on, her shouting was soon mingled with helpless tears.

If she is faking it, Jennifer decided, then she must be the greatest actress in the world. Glancing around, the reporter noted that the rest of the audience felt the same way. The men were watching in awe, with their mouths hanging open, as the women squirmed on their padded velvet seats.

Up on stage, the other dancers were rushing towards the exit doors, where they were stopped by a chorus of males, all wearing deputies’ badges.

 “It’s no good for you women to try running away,” the sheriff told them, with his baritone voice rising above his victim’s howling. “That will only make things worse for you, since I have sworn in all these men as deputies. That means you females can ALL be punished, as you deserve. So, men, do your duty!”

Each of the deputies immediately obeyed by catching a woman’s arm, then lifting her ruffled skirts in one fist and bringing his free hand down with all his might on her naked backside. Soon the dance hall girls were struggling vainly, while desperately crying out pleas for mercy and frantic promises that they would never break the law again.

“So will you girls find decent jobs?” the sheriff called to them.

Frantically, they all shouted “Yes!”

“Good!” he exclaimed. “Then all you need is a few more good sound spanks, to be sure you remember to keep your word. I think twenty should be enough.”

“No!” the women wailed.

Ignoring them completely, he addressed the audience by saying, “And I believe that you good people will agree. Am I right?”

“Yes!” the spectators shouted.

“So will you join me in counting out the spankings?”

“YES!” they chorused, even more eagerly.

To her own surprise, Jennifer found herself echoing her new friends, the Bradleys, by joining in the audience’s happy shouts. The spectators counted out each sharp blow, which was echoed by the dancers’ screams.

Whatever they are paying those women, Jennifer thought, it can hardly be enough…

…unless, of course, they are enjoying it as much as the audience does.

Now she was determined to find out.

But, of course, she would have to explore the other attractions, too – even if she never expected to meet anyone as sexy as that spanking sheriff.

Chapter Three: Randy Roman Empire

One thing was sure: the Bradleys obviously felt that they were getting more than their money’s worth. “Wasn’t that wonderful?” Melanie asked her new friend, when the curtain had closed. “We enjoyed it so much. And it taught us a lot, too. Not only did the actors show Henry how to give me a good hard spanking when I need it, they also taught us how to write our own spanking scene, when we both want to act it out just for fun. And we still have those other theaters left!”

“Do you mind if I tag along with you again?” Jennifer asked.

“Of course we don’t!” Melanie exclaimed. “It will be nice to have someone who enjoys watching those spanking scenes are much as we do. I am only wondering where you think we should go next.”

“How about the Randy Roman Empire?” Jennifer asked. “I mean, if we are taking the shows in historical order, that is where we should begin.”

“I have heard that it was based on that wonderful old movie spectacle Quo Vadis,” Melanie happily replied. “I don’t know how many times I have watched the DVD, and I love it every time. I’m just glad it was based on a Victorian novel, so no one had to pay to use it.”

“Then you’ll love the Randy Roman Empire more than anyplace else in this park,” her husband assured her. Turning to Jennifer, he explained, “The program said that this show is based on Nero’s big banquet scene, where Lygia learns that she was really a slave to the Roman couple who had adopted her, and that now the emperor has given her to Marcus Vinicius, as his reward for his latest conquest. And of course we get dinner there too.”

“It sounds terrific!” the reporter replied. “I haven’t seen it for ages, but I seem to remember that Robert Taylor and Deborah Kerr played the leads, with Peter Ustinov as Nero.”

“Well, now you will be able to see it in person from a front-row seat.”

* * *

Jennifer was struck by how closely the cast resembled the stars who had played the characters on screen, although she could not help noticing that the leading man was almost as good-looking as the sheriff on the Wild West stage.

While the lavish dinner of fruit and roasted lamb shanks was being served, the guests watched the dancing girls gliding across the marble floor while the wrestlers fought each other beside them.

That portion of the entertainment ended with generous applause, before Lygia started to speak. “Oh, Marcus!” she pleaded. “Please take me home!”

“Home?” he demanded, with such a leering sneer, it was hard to believe that his beautiful hostage could fail to understand that by ‘home’ he meant his own villa, rather than her foster parents’ house.

It was certainly a sexy moment, Jennifer realized, and it held up just as well as the scene in the 1951 movie spectacle. She even found herself wishing that he would indeed drag Lygia off to his lair, even though she knew she would be ‘rescued’ just in time.

At the same time, she wondered what his threatened abduction had to do with spanking, since Lygia had obviously done nothing that she deserved to be spanked for, and was, in fact, in much greater danger of being ravished.

It all became clear in the very next moment, when a slave girl stumbled and dropped the gravy bowl onto Marcus’ broad shoulder. “Oh, pardon me, master!” she cried.

This scene had taken place in another spectacle called Spartacus, with Jean Simmons playing the clumsy servant’s part. Now Jennifer recognized the slave girl as Marci, from the Wild Wild West show. And once again, the lovely brunette actress was displaying her acting talents by showing complete dismay.

“Pardon you, for ruining my finest tunic?” Marcus demanded. “No, you must be punished for your clumsiness! So turn yourself over my knee!”

“No, Marcus!” Lygia cried, clutching his muscular arm. “It was merely an accident, and the poor girl should not have to suffer for it. I would rather have you punish me instead!”

“If that is what you want,” he told her, with an even broader sneer. “I will show every patrician gathered here that you are now my slave.” Going back to the movie script, he warned her, “I can have you flogged until you plead to love me!”

As always, Jennifer could not help squirming at that line. Which was why, she suspected, that she enjoyed watching the movie and reading the book so often. It was all too obvious, she realized, that those old Victorians were often not really straightlaced at all.

“Or we will watch you publically spanked, at the very least! That is what we ALL want to see!” the Emperor Nero cried out, interrupting Jennifer’s thoughts, as he called out to the audience, “Is that not true, my guests?”

Going along with the act, the spectators shook their heads violently as Marcus grasped Lygia and pulled her over his knee. With a sigh, she submitted, knowing that she dared not even protest against this emperor who had total power over them all.

Lygia’s sigh soon turned to a cry of pain, followed by helpless wailing, as his strong hand descended, again and again, across the shimmering thin blue gown that covered her shapely bottom.

When he finally let her rise to her feet, she stroked her injured bottom with one hand while wiping away her tears with the other. Now the story returned to its original form, with Marcus ordering his servants to carry her to her new home on a litter – for even more punishment.

“In fact, I must go there now!” he shouted. “I have not yet punished her as I see fit, as her new master.”

Turning to the audience, he went on, in a much more normal tone, “And as anyone is well aware who has ever read or seen Quo Vadis, my wicked plan will be foiled when she is rescued by a giant slave named Ursus. I need hardly add that I will become much less wicked as the story goes on.”

With his leering grin, he added, “So I fear that I will soon become a lot less interesting too. For that reason, I think we should stop right here, and let our cast take their bows.” Enthusiastic applause greeted the performers once again.

* * *

“It would be pretty hard to top the big banquet scene from Quo Vadis,” Melanie told her husband, as the three strolled back to the main path. “Between Ancient Rome and the Wild West, I think we have all the inspiration we need, and a lot of the spanking techniques too. What would you think of going back to the hotel and trying them out, Henry dear? It is starting to get dark here, anyway.”

“But we haven’t seen even half of the shows!” her husband objected. “We are going in historical order now, and we still haven’t gotten to the first hundred years AD. Besides, the darkness should help us to enjoy,” he lowered his voice in a teasing way, as he murmured, “the Viking Village! I’ll bet you’ll find plenty of hot sex there. And even hotter spankings, thanks to the Vikings and their victims.”

Putting his arm around his wife’s shoulder, he glanced down at Jennifer as he said, “Of course, I will protect you both.”

In the same light tone, Jennifer replied, “You had better be ready to protect your wife, and let those Vikings ravish me in her place, or spank me if I resist!”

Quickly, she added, “Naturally, I was just kidding! We can all watch them ravishing and punishing their victims to our hearts’ content since we know that they are only performers, acting out the scene. Isn’t that what we are paying for?” Her companions agreed that it certainly was.


 

 

 


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