This short story is an entry in the 2001 Soc.Sexuality.Spanking Summer Short Story Contest and is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission. Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice. The author would appreciate your comments
Category: Adult (or humor? I don't know.)
Something Borrowed
By
Valerie Meilong <VMeilong1@excite.com>
The bed was comfortable but I couldn't sleep. Excitement, I suppose. After all, I was getting married in two days. He was twenty years older than I, but still very good in bed, if you know what I mean, Nudge, nudge, wink, wink. Well, that's important, innit? So what if he's a bit stuffy. All headmasters are, aren't they?
I was marrying him for his money. Stinking rich, he was. He could afford a nineteen-year dolly-bird like me. Giggle, giggle. He'd been in the RAF in the war. Two years after his demob, his father died. Left him all his dosh. Made a bloody fortune making munitions and stuff. The shares were sold, and he'd bought a small boarding school for boys, five years ago. Made himself headmaster.
I was staying in "The Head's House." Seven bedrooms! Cor! Better than my miserable pad. It was end of the school year, and I was surrounded by hunky young rugger-playing Adonises, all sniffing around me. Lecherous beasts. Wow! To think that this was going to be my life from now on.
The head boy, Clarence Caruthers, blimey, what a moniker, had asked me to meet him behind the cricket pavilion at tennish tomorrow night. Well, why not? I could get away after my bachelor-girl party. There'd only be pompous school-teacher biddies there, most twice my age. Could I not have a last fling?
The hen-party was a flop. There'd been snide comments about my attitude to tradition. I'd refused to wear white, and had pooh-poohed the idea of something borrowed, something blue. I excused myself early, and when they'd gone, I sneaked out. Caruthers was waiting, of course, panting; sexy sod. We soon got down to it, I'll tell you. I don't know who got our clothes off faster, him or me!
Next day, while changing for the ceremony, I found Clarence's slightly whiffy underpants in my handbag. Just for a lark, I put them on. Coo! Eroticsville. Something borrowed, eh?
The ceremony ended, the wedding breakfast started, and the champagne flowed. At nine-thirty, we excused ourselves and went up to bed. We had to get up early to catch the plane to Corsica. When we were alone he started to undress me. Off came my dress and slip. Then he pulled down my knickers. His face clouded over immediately. He held them up. "Explain," he said in his stuffy headmaster's voice. "Darling," I purred. "Latest fashion for girls. Y-fronts."
"Is it the fashion to have a label saying C.P. Carruthers on your knickers?"
He moved to the door. "I know how to deal with this. I'll start our marriage as I intend to go on."
When he came back he had his cane in his hand.
I was uncomfortable in the plane, and I decided I'd not wear my bikini for at least a week.
In the bathroom that evening, I examined the bruises on my bottom. They were already changing colour. "Ah well," I said ruefully. "Something borrowed, something blue."
The End
© Copyright Summer, 2001
***READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!*** This story is for entertainment purposes only, and it does not necessarily represent the viewpoint of the author. All characters are fictional and any resemblance to any real person alive or dead is purely coincidental. The Copyright of this story is held by ESP Publishing Ltd., Beijing, China. All Rights Reserved. Free distribution via an electronic medium such as the Internet is permitted as long as the text is not modified, and the name of the author and this copyright notice is clearly included. Any other form of publication is expressly forbidden unless authorized in writing by ESP Publishing Ltd.
Reviews
John Benson <johnb(at)ssec(dot)wisc(dot)edu>
There's something always present in the short story form if it's true to type. Closure. When you read the last word, you know you're done. Often a twist, a little surprise, a change of direction. Done well, the reader doesn't see it coming, even though it's been foreshadowed.
This story has it. I also like the fact that the narrator is a semi-sympathetic character. young and vulnerable, yet hard-bitten and cynical. She basically deserves what she's getting. I might have liked just a little bit more about how she feels about all this, but the piece stands perfectly well as is.
Kent Stoneking <kentls001(at)worldnet(dot)att(dot)net>
Excellent work ... a plucky, straightforward heroine who's not afraid to admit what she's after. I like how the author left certain things unsaid (we're all adults, and we can all figure out what happened ... we don't need a detailed description). And the wordplay at the end is exactly what I admire so much in other writers' work, and try to incorporate in my own.