This short story is an entry in the 2002 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
Radio Silence
By
Mara Maharakshasa <MaraMahaRakshasa@aol.com>
In the locked office tower at midnight, lights burn at only two windows. At the 24-hour classical station, Jeff cues Beethoven's Fifth, and turns to Jeanette, his announcer.
"That'll keep 'em for an hour or so."
She's slipping out of her clothes, eagerly. He checks the window shades and ensures the studio door is locked, collects the riding crop, paddle and handcuffs. From monitor speakers, the music plays at whispering volume.
Jeanette is a studious woman in her early forties, her hair in a prim bun. Twinset and pleated skirt discarded, bra, tights and panties tossed over a chair, she reveals a slim, pale body. There's a faint rosy blush to her buttocks. She turns to seek a suitable place. He indicates the coffee table and says:
"On there, face down."
Biting her lower lip in anticipation, she lowers herself to the cool wooden surface. He cuffs her wrists behind her, and urges: "Open your legs." Turns of rope secure her ankles to the table legs.
"Do it hard," she says in a low, urgent voice. "Hurt me, baby."
"I plan to," Jeff growls. "You're going to be very sore, Jeanie. And you're coming several times before I'll even think about fucking you."
"Oh!" she gasps.
He slashes the crop across her backside, hard. Then, the backs of her thighs.
"Jesus!" she yelps.
"What's he doing here?" Jeff comments, drily.
He switches to the paddle, pistol shot cracks echoing.
She's groaning piteously, grinding her skinny hips against the table, slamming her pubis down hard with every blow.
"That's right, bitch," he teases. "Think you can take it?"
"Yes!" she gasps. "Don't stop!"
A half hour later, she's sobbing, her backside glowing crimson and thickly welted. Each fresh stroke with the crop is producing shrieks.
"Okay, time to turn you over," he orders. "I want to do the insides of your thighs."
"And my pussy?" she gasps, her voice breaking.
"Of course." He's turning her, retying her, this time with her arms spread, and her ankles roped to her wrists.
"What an elegant pose," he mocks. "God, you should see yourself, Jeanie. What a slut. Your hole is begging for it!
You're drooling on the table!"
At the deserted switchboard, lights flash. First a few, now ten, now dozens. But Jeff is oblivious. In the distance, a direct line rings. He's astride her, ramming powerfully into her, grunting in time with Ludwig and her yelps of pleasure. Finally, they come.
There's loud clattering outside. A helicopter? A glaring light pierces the window. Jeff pulls up his pants, peers out. Cop cars with flashing blue lights blockade the street. A loudhailer intones: "Police! Pick up the phone! Repeat This is the police! Release your hostages immediately!"
Jeanette is dressing quickly, then cries, ashen-faced:
"Shit! The fucking mike was left on!"
She rushes over and quick-wittedly announces, while
Jeff fades Beethoven: "That was 'Submission,' a deconstructionist collage of Beethoven's Fifth by Russian modernist Yevgeni Timoshenko "
Jeff sighs. Clever. But who'll believe that?
The End
© Copyright by Mara Maharakshasa, 2002. All rights are reserved by the author. Do not retransmit, store (except for personal use) or publish without permission.
Reviews
Needy Wench <needywench(at)hotmail(dot)com>
I read this one several times, trying to imagine the words and sounds coming over the radio. You've captured every DJ's fantasy and nightmare in your story! However, I think the better ending would been right after Julie's line, which is the perfect recovery.
Anne <Ladyanne60(at)aol(dot)com>
This was a very classical and original thought out story of submission/domination. And what a grand way to begin, with Beethoven in the background. A clever twist as the whole city is listening in. Jeanette's comeback was humorous, ingenious, yet unbelievable. The ending left me roaring.
Haron <haron(at)newsguy(dot)com>
Makes you wonder what the radio DJs get up to when they do remember to switch off the microphones. Here's hoping that some local station will treat us to an equally steamy piece of art one day.
RCG <rcg1574(at)yahoo(dot)com>
Would anyone listen to 24-hour classical radio? Still, a clever idea to set a story against the sound of Beethovens fifth symphony.