Rachel. A Harsh Penance

Every man has his favourite, and Rachel was mine. She was by far the kindest. The warmest. The sweetest. If, like me, you had ever caught a glimpse of her stocking tops, or breathed in her scent, then she would have been your favourite too.

She had a cleavage designed to comfort you after a hard day, and a bottom that laughed in the face of physics. Rachel also refused to believe that we men love a full breast, or a generous thigh, and that made me adore her even more.

I caught her on a December evening after almost everyone had left. She was twisting and turning, catching her reflection against the windows, and rearranging her auburn hair with her hands. A ponytail, then up into a bun, and then loose again.

“Is everything all right Rachel?”

Her face told the story.

“Not really” she replied. “I’m a bit fed up. I’ve put a pound on this month. It’s all these Christmas chocolates and cakes that people are bringing in”

It was never a hardship to compliment her, and I have always preferred to keep things simple.

“Don’t be silly. I think you always look lovely”

“Aw…thanks. That’s sweet. I just wish I could believe you” she said, tilting her head and charming me further.

“Well you do. Really. But if it bothers you, then you could always join a gym in the new year. Or come running with me. I’d enjoy the company”

“No. Thanks anyway. I hate gyms. And I hate running even more!”

She screwed up her face as if a bad smell had passed under her nose, and checked her silhouette in the window again.

“Well, you can’t have things both ways Rachel. Life’s not like that!”

“Yeah… I know”

Her voice trailed off sadly, so I made one more attempt to comfort her.

“A pound isn’t much you know. You could get that off again really quickly. No problem. You just need some motivation”

“And what do you suggest?” she asked, finishing her little poses.

“Well you could always set that pound as your target, and then buy yourself something nice when its gone”

“Oh that would never work. Knowing me I’d just buy something anyway. Probably shoes. I love shoes” 

I smiled back. It was easy to smile with her around.

“Well think of it the other way then Rachel. If you don’t get there, you’d have to do a penance”

She sat down awkwardly on the corner of the desk, crossing her black nylons, and pulling her skirt down an inch.

“What do you mean, a penance?”

“Well. Like me. If I don’t feel like going for a run, I make myself do a mile extra next time. As a penance. Just that thought of that is enough. I always end up putting my trainers on. Every single time”

“Hmm. I don’t know if that would work for me either. I know what I‘m like. If I saw the rain outside, I’d just put the TV on and have a cake”

I laughed at her honesty and thought harder, trying to keep her to myself for a while longer, and hoping that a flash of genius would strike me.

“Why not combine the two then? I’ll tell you what. If you can lose that pound by next Friday, I’ll buy you some shoes to wear to the Christmas party”

Genius it most certainly was not, but it had the right effect.

“Oooh…new shoes…I do like the sound of that!” she gushed. “And what happens if I don’t lose it?”

“Then you’ll just have to take the consequences” I replied, my genius deserting me.

“Consequences? Ha ha! Like what?” she giggled, throwing back her head.

I have no idea why I didn’t sentence her to a meal with me at that nice Italian on the high street. Or demand that she pay for the popcorn when I take her to the cinema. Or even guarantee me at least one slow dance on Saturday night. Oh no. These simple things would have been far too, well, simple.

Instead, my mind had chosen to go its own way, ordering me to expose my darkest fantasies to the light. This one crashed ashore in a flood, laying waste to all that stood before it.

“If you don’t lose it, I’ll spank your bottom. For being such a bad, bad girl”

The world seemed to come to a stop, like in one of those terrible movies where the Earth runs out of electricity. Rachel’s face dropped in disappointment, and perhaps even a little pity. She rose and turned on her heels in a horrible, horrible silence.

Knowing I’d gone too far made me feel quite sick, and regret covered me like a shroud. With one stupid remark, I had lost her. I’d never again see that embarrassed smile when she caught me staring at her slender ankles, or discover two squares of chocolate in my desk drawer. I had damaged us beyond repair.

I walked home in the rain, hoping that a runaway bus would end my suffering. The next day, my attempts to apologise were ignored, and she even moved from her usual seat. I somehow managed to work through those longest days, speaking to
no-one, and in total misery.

                          ______________________________________

The phones and cameras were being passed around the coffee room, as they were every Monday morning. The girls howled as tales of their Saturday night unfolded.

“Hey Joanna!  Here’s one of you with that lovely bloke!”

More photographs. More laughter. More reddened faces.

“Oh Louise! I never thought you’d drink that. It was bright green!”

I kept my head buried in my newspaper until the sound of her name caused me to look over the pages.

“Ha ha Rachel!  You’ve got a right double chin on this one! Come and have a look!”

Rachel got up all right, but not to look. She was gone, and had disappeared into thin air before anyone had noticed. Well, hardly anyone.

It was almost six before I saw her again, striding purposefully towards me. So this was it. She had made me wait all weekend before deciding to put me in my place. She leaned in, inches from my face, and I flinched, waiting for my execution.

“That thing we talked about last week” she said. “I’ll do it. A pound before Friday. Come round for me tonight. We’ll run”

                                                    ______________

I did as I was told of course, jogging the short distance to Rachel’s house without my feet touching the ground, such was the delight at my reprieve. Rachel greeted me in a grey hooded top, and matching, baggy bottoms. Tiny white trainers, with cute pink laces, finished the outfit with a flourish.

“I’ve brought the scales downstairs” she said, kicking them to the centre of the kitchen.

“Oh there’s no need for that’ I said. “I do trust you”

“No. I want you to see” she replied. “I want to see your face when I win”

She hopped on, beckoning me over to witness the result.

“You’ll weigh quite heavy with all your kit on you know” I said, trying to dampen the effect of any unfortunate results.

“Oh it doesn’t matter. As long as I wear it all again on Friday”

She was right of course. I shrugged my shoulders and focussed on the little digital numbers. We agreed on the figure, with Rachel shaking her head in disgust.

“A pound it is then. Or more” she said, stepping off and gathering her keys.

“We’ll check again on Friday night. The party is Saturday. That’ll give us time to go into town and buy my shoes on Saturday morning. Ha!”

We were soon jogging along the freezing street, with Rachel looking stunning, even under the harsh streetlights. Her breasts and bottom bounced away under the thick flannel, and she made wonderful, breathless gasps every few strides. We ran through the darkened park, and it was only when we reached the South gates that she began to struggle, her pace dropping to a brisk walk. She battled her way back up the hill though, gritting her teeth and refusing to give up.

“Thanks for that. See you tomorrow” was all she said as she limped her way up her garden path.

I stayed outside a moment to cool down and gather my breath, until I saw her at her bathroom window, distorted heavily by the frosted glass. I watched the grey figure turn creamy white as she removed her top, and could just about make out the general shape of her heavy breasts as she unclipped her bra. She dropped out of sight, presumably to remove her trousers, before appearing again to tie up her hair. I walked away backwards, cursing that cruel glass, until I could see her no more.
                                         
                                          ______________________

The next day passed quickly, as I no longer felt so twisted inside. I did notice Rachel had brought in her own lunch of salad and an apple, and that she ignored the treats table, passing it without weakening once. She did walk past my desk at about eleven, brightening my day immensely.

“My legs are so sore today” she smiled. “I did quite enjoy it though. Maybe running’s not that bad once you get into it”

“Would you like to come out again tonight?” I asked, keen to witness the same sights again.

“No thanks. I’ve read that swimming’s good too, so I’m going to try to do an hour tonight”

“I quite like swimming” I said, fishing.

“Sorry. It’s ladies only tonight. Besides, I’m not letting you see me in my bikini”

It was probably for the best. Passing out in swimming pools sounded rather dangerous.
                                      ______________________


The note was already there by the time I sat down on Wednesday morning.

Nine ounces gone already. Get your credit card out!

Can’t run tonight. Going to the gym with Joanna.

R x

I smiled at the cheeky message and genuinely felt delighted for her. It was only money after all. She had already given me a great deal more. The day passed much as the previous one, with lettuce and fruit, until Rachel disappeared at four o’clock with her friend and her gym bag.

                                    _________________________

I watched her throughout Thursday, wincing with pain as she moved her arms, and stretching her back out every few minutes. She came to see me just after lunch.

“Can we run tonight please? It’ll be the last night”

“Are you sure? You look like you’re suffering today”

“Oh it’s mainly my top half. I was a bit silly trying to keep up with Joanna last night. She goes three times a week you know. She looks so amazing. She just walks around the changing room without a stitch on, casual as anything. She doesn’t care who sees her. I wish I could be like that.”

I tried hard not to picture Rachel and the willowy Joanna involved in some rather dubious changing room antics, but failed miserably, and drifted off into my own heaven. The sound of Rachel’s voice brought me swiftly back to earth.

“Could you come round a bit earlier tonight? I’d like to run a bit further”

I nodded my agreement and watched as she hobbled back across the room. She was clearly in distress, and her legs must have been aching terribly after her efforts earlier in the week. But she wanted to run further. What spirit. What a girl.

The run went well, with Rachel certainly faster than the time before. The South gates were passed without a drop in pace, and the small loop I had added was dispatched without her even noticing. The final hill was attacked with a grunt of angry determination, with Rachel drawing up alongside me as we sprinted the last hundred yards for home. She was almost on her knees by the time we reached her own gate, and she could only offer me a wave goodbye, as words were beyond her reach.

I did my cool down exercises outside her house again, hoping to see Rachel preparing for her shower, but was disappointed. I reasoned that she probably didn’t even have the energy to climb the stairs, so I disappeared into the dark, without the consolation of my blurred vision.
                                              ___________________

I watched Rachel throughout Friday, her movements as stiff and wooden as a puppets. She did  find time to taunt me from her desk though, laughing as she held up pictures of shoes from her magazine. She held seven fingers aloft soon afterwards, and my heart sank, as I realised my hours with her were growing short.

I turned up on time of course, as last hours are the most valued. Rachel had her familiar running kit on again, and by the look of the magazines strewn around, had clearly been reading even more articles about footwear. She skipped around her kitchen, a beaming smile on her face, before placing the scales in the middle of the floor.

“Come on then loser” she said, hopping on and beckoning me forward. “Read it and weep!”

The red numbers blinked a shocking, sorry tale.

“No Way!” she screamed. “That can’t be right! I’ve worked so hard! Four ounces short! That just can’t be! Bloody Christmas chocolate!”

I was disappointed for her too, as she had suffered so much. Her face looked so appealing that it forced the gentleman within me to step forward.

“Don’t worry Rachel” I began. “It’s only a few ounces. You win. It was a heck of an effort. We’ll go and get your shoes in the morning”

She continued staring at the scale, somehow hoping the digits would change. When it became clear that they had made their decision, she stepped off them and slumped onto her chair like a defeated boxer. I let her take another few moments to calm herself before I dared to offer more.

“I’ll come round for you tomorrow and we’ll go into town. Which shop do you want to go to first?”

She looked up, those eyes larger than ever.

“No’ she said, composing herself further. “I took the bet. I’d have accepted the shoes. I’ll do what you wanted. It’s only right”

I’d not even considered that Rachel would fail, let alone offer to complete her penance, but it was typical of her to be so brave. She remained in her chair, shaking her head slowly and seemingly lost in despair.

A few minutes passed in silence before she broke it with a question.

“This thing. How does it work? How many do I have to take? Is it just the one?”

I pushed my luck, as any man would. 

“Well six is traditional”

“Six? Is it really? Six?”

“Six”

Her cheeks and neck were now scarlet, and I was starting to savour her discomfort. I let her babble on. There was no need to rush.

“God. I didn’t think it was that many. Do we do it here then? In the kitchen?  I mean, do I…I mean…what do I have to do?”

Rachel was clearly looking for my guidance, if not my instruction. I didn’t want to frighten her, but that’s easier said than done when someone knows you are about to spank their behind. I tried to take charge.

“I think it would be best if we kept it quick and simple. We’ll do it here in the kitchen. You can just put your hands on the chair, and I’ll give you six with my belt”

“Whaaaat?” she shouted, her eyes afire. “Your belt? Now steady on! You never said anything about a belt! That’s going to really hurt”

As usual, she was right about that too, but I had always wielded my belt in my fantasies, and a belt it would remain. I looked back into that startled face.

“Well there’s not much point in doing a penance if it doesn’t hurt is there?”

Rachel searched for a reply, but then looked away in morbid acceptance. The questions, as well as her throat, had finally dried up. She forced out one last one, in not much more than a parched whisper.

“Will you need me to…you know.. take my things off? Isn’t that traditional too?”

My heart skipped several beats. I would never have asked her to undress in a million years. I’d have happily settled for spanking her through those shapeless tracksuit bottoms, but here she was, offering more than I could ever have hoped.

Nevertheless, despite my longing, I still lacked the courage to answer her. I couldn’t even offer an answer at all. Fortunately, Rachel took my silence to mean I did indeed require her to remove her clothes. She stood up, slowly, with a face as dark as night.

“I thought so. Men. You’re all the same”

She could have insulted me for the rest of the evening, and cast doubt on my mothers virtue too. I wouldn’t have cared less.

She slipped those trainers off first, leaving me to gaze at her little white socks. They were quickly dispatched too, and dropped onto the floor without a thought.

With a fixed stare, she lifted her top off next, struggling with it as her ponytail got tangled up. She had a rather lovely white bra on underneath, low cut and battling hard to constrain those fabulous, full breasts.

“I’m not taking this off though” she said assertively, running her thumbs under the straps. “You’re not seeing everything I‘ve got”

It was a crying shame, as Rachel’s breasts were truly the eighth wonder, and I would have paid to see them bare and swaying as she received her six. I allowed her this one comfort though, as asking for more would have been greedy. I said nothing, simply nodding in reply, content to watch her continue.

Rachel did just that, lowering her trousers to reveal a pair of small white knickers. Her legs were close to how I had imagined them, but perhaps even more beautiful. They were obviously sturdy and short, but buttery smooth and without a blemish. Her calves and thighs were strong and powerful, rather than the brittle twigs so loved  by fashion.

Once only her bra and knickers remained, I heard her again, in a voice barely louder than the hum of the refrigerator.

“Could you hurry up? I don’t feel very comfortable standing around like this”

I nodded again, growing into my role, and unfastened my belt. I watched Rachel lower her eyes towards my waist as I did so, before closing them tightly as the leather began its journey. She opened them widely again as I formed a loose loop with it. For the first time, I saw a look of genuine trepidation. She was out of her depth, and not too far from panic.

“Oh blimey. Don’t do it too hard will you? I’m a bit…I mean I’ve never done anything like this before”

I tried to give her my finest reassuring tone, but then I’d never done anything like it either.

“Of course I will. It’ll soon be over. Don’t worry”

Rachel turned to face the chair, allowing me my first sight of that wondrous bottom. Her knickers were failing to cover quite a portion of her plump cheeks, and the thought that Rachel would soon be exposing the rest was almost too much.

I let her stand there a moment to let her consider her fate. After a few seconds, she exhaled hard yet again, and looked up towards the ceiling.

Placing her thumbs inside the waistband, Rachel lowered her knickers down across her thighs. Once they had reached just below her knees, she steadied herself against the chair, and then stepped out of them without fuss or ceremony.  If her intention was to deny me any erotic pleasure, then she had failed.  Being finally able to witness her finest feature was perhaps the greatest moment of my life.

Those two full crescents of heaven were on the edge of proportion, dominating Rachel’s petite frame. My eyes widened in order to take in their expanse, and the obvious softness of her virgin skin.  It felt as if I should compliment her on the sight, but my mouth was far to dry to try.

Just as I thought there was no more she could give, Rachel bent over, placing her hands on the seat of the chair, just as I had asked. She kept her ankles tightly together, arched her back, and stuck her bottom out as far as she could, like a wartime pin up.

“I’m ready. Could you just hurry up and do it please?” 

Her body visibly tightened as she heard my footsteps. I placed the belt against her bare flesh, and saw her quiver quite clearly. I thought it best to begin gently, for fear of her changing her mind, so brought the belt down firmly, rather than cruelly.

CRACK!

“Ooooh!” she yelped as the belt bit its venom into her bottom. 

She didn’t move at all though, staying in position, and if anything sticking her bottom out even higher. I took that as her consent for the next.

CRACK!

“Ooooh!” she groaned again, tossing her head around as the sting ran through her.

She continued to hold onto the seat, perhaps a little harder now, and waited to receive the third. I waited until she had settled, and drew back again. 

CRACK!

“Oooow! That one was harder!”

Rachel threw her head around again, far more violently, and stood up on tiptoe as the worst of the pain welled up inside her. It took longer to leave this time, but I was happy to wait. Other than those little betrayals, she remained in position again, allowing me at least one more.

I could see a narrow, pink line on her left cheek now, and feel the heat coming from her body. I ached for Rachel to stay like this forever, naked except for her brassiere, and bent over, offering herself in sacrifice. I tried to prolong both my pleasure and her agony for as long as I could.

“That’s half way Rachel. You’re doing really well. Just three more”

“I’m not sure I can do three more” she gasped. “My bum’s on fire”

“Would you like to rest for a minute then? You can. I don’t mind”

“No. Just hurry up” she snapped back, as if sensing my motive.

CRACK!

“Oooooww!” she cried again.

The ponytail shaking began once more, and Rachel again raised herself on tiptoe in a vain attempt to lessen her suffering. To her immense credit, she stayed down, but then took a few seconds to reach back and rub the worst of the soreness away.

“Are you ok?” I asked again

“It just stings so much” she replied, her voice cracking. “There’s just two left isn’t there?”

“Yes. Just the two”

I took a few seconds to let her resume her position before administering the first of them.

CRACK!

“Aaargh! Blimey! Now that one really flipping hurt!” she screamed, as the belt unleashed its malice upon her again.

For the first time, Rachel stood up straight, gripping her buttocks hard with both of her hands. She turned her head to look at me for the first time too, allowing me to see the dampness around her eyes, and the real shock within them.

I had never seen her like this, unrecognisable from the cheery office girl I knew so well. The sight took me aback, and sympathy overtook me. She had taken five, bitter strokes. It was enough. It was time to call a halt. Before I could do so though, Rachel had wiped her eyes, sniffed away the last of her agony, and bent over again.

Her acceptance caused me to close my mouth, and prepare the sixth and final stroke. As soon as I drew my arm back, it felt different. Like a golf swing that happens once in a summer, or a cover drive that you don’t feel hit the bat.

CRACK!

Rachel clearly felt the effect of my new found talent too. It was placed directly on top of the previous stroke, and was timed perfectly, delivering its suffering at the fastest part of the arc. It even allowed me to hold an upward, balanced finish, as if waiting to be photographed.

This time though, there was hardly a sound from her mouth. I could sense her trying to cry out, but there nothing actually making it into the air. It had taken everything from her. It was at least five seconds before the full effect of my expertise was heard, both by me and most of the neighbourhood.

“Aaaargh! Ooooow! Oooooow! Ooooow! God! Oooow!”

Another angry pink mark appeared instantly, and Rachel lifted her feet up rapidly in turn, trying to dissipate the agony. She whimpered a while, like a lost spaniel, until finally standing up again and gripping her ample cheeks with her hands.

I tried to comfort her. “That’s it Rachel. Six. All done”

It was clear the effect of that last stroke was still within her though, as she was unable to offer anything in reply.

I tried again, all the time staring at her, half naked, with my pleasure interrupted only by the line of that bra strap. “Are you all right?”

I thought I saw the tiniest of nods in the swish of her ponytail, but she was still unable to summon anything in response. I heard her blow out her cheeks though, begging for release from the agony. I watched on, mesmerised by those wide hips and the beauty of her gentle crease. Rachel fought for some composure, though clearly still overwhelmed by the pain, and seemingly frozen in time. Only the merest trembling from her thigh confirmed she was indeed flesh and not stone.

After a minute more, she returned from her coldest, darkest place.

“That last one hurt so much” she mumbled, wiping her brow. “I couldn’t even breathe”

I can only imagine that her head was still far from clear, as Rachel then turned around to face me, seemingly unaware of just how much she was now placing on display.

I  feasted on the auburn triangle between her legs, while she continued to make no effort to cover her modesty. I needed no further encouragement, and looked even harder. Rachel had the most beautiful one I’d ever seen, with fine, golden strands of hair rising up symmetrically from her discreet lips, before fading away naturally just short of her bikini line.

She stood before me, blowing and sniffing, wiping and rubbing, before finally catching me staring.

“Oh God. No. Didn’t think. Please don’t look” she said, her eyes following mine.

She placed her hand between her thighs and made her way falteringly toward the doorway.

“I think I’d better go and get dressed”

I took my last look at those plump, beaming cheeks as they wobbled up the stairs, and wondered if I would ever see them again.

                                       _____________

I gazed at that lonely chair and pictured Rachel again, forcing her bare derriere upwards. I could now hear her showering upstairs, so I though it only fair to try to restore some order from the mayhem that was once her kitchen. I doubted she would be in much of a condition to do it herself tonight. Or tomorrow.

I put the chair back under the table, and placed her tracksuit bottoms over the back of it. Rachel’s knickers, socks and shoes were discarded on the floor, and that now familiar hooded top lay beside them.  As I lifted it, Rachel’s phone fell from the pocket and onto the tiles. I placed it back again, only to hear the expensive clatter of metal on metal. It seemed that by delving around in her pockets, I may had broken far more than her trust. I winced as I began to empty out the contents, fearing the worst.

Two huge bunches of  keys were soon joined by a very solid bottle of perfume. A digital camera followed, and then four or five items of make up. Finally, I scooped up a ransom of loose change and placed it on the table.

Now, anyone who has ever seen  the inside of a woman’s handbag can tell you what hoarders they can be, but why Rachel needed to carry all that around was quite simply beyond me.
                                                              ___________________