Checkout girl.

This spanking blog is different from other spanking blogs in one important way: it has fewer readers. But also because from time to time I may post a bit of fiction that I, your humble author, scribed on his own. Here's a daydream I had the other day after a particularly annoying stint with my shopping list:

I'm in a crowded supermarket, having my groceries rung up. People with their shopping carts form a long line behind me. The attractive but bored-looking girl behind the counter pops her bubblegum and seems to be listening to some ridiculous pop beat in her head while her fingers glide lazily over the buttons of the cash register.

I suddenly notice that she's overcharged me. I say, "Hey there's only one steak, not two."

"It's fine, " she snaps, annoyed that I'm interrupting the flow of whatever inane song lyric is flowing through her head.

"Delete the second charge." I'm getting more annoyed.

"Chill out, it's no big deal." She looks at me now, her blue eyes flashing.

"Delete the second charge, " I say very slowly, "Or instead of going home after your shift and sitting down on a nice chair, you'll be still standing--because I'm going to tan your backside the color of a can of 2-for-1 Heinz tomatoes."

She snorts. "Oh whatever!"

Before you can say "Sale on Aisle Five, " I've pulled her across the counter. Wearing loose, brown, uniform-mandated slacks, she has no way to protect herself as suddenly her pantied-covered bottom is visible to the entire store--and she's too surprised to clutch at her underwear before it's pulled down to her ankles.

"Let go of me!" she shrieks, but it's too late: before the awestruck eyes of the other shoppers, her bare bottom goes right over my knee. Keeping her still by scissoring her between my legs and holding her hands behind her back with my left hand, I raise my right hand and bring it down hard on her upturned rear end.

"Ow! OWW! Put me down right now!" But the sound of my hand against her bottom rings out across the entire store, and her pale skin quickly blushes dark red under the blistering rain of over two dozen smacks. Amazed, no one moves--they simply watch the smartmouthed girl get an overdue lesson in customer service.

Finally I let her go. She falls to the floor crying, and quickly scrambles away so she can pull up her panties and protect her already ruined modesty.

As I get to my feet and brush off some of the dust, I'm surprised to see a nearby security guard who was standing nearby and watching the whole thing.

"Aren't you supposed to stop disturbances, or something?" I ask him.

"SHE was the disturbance, " the guard replies. "She's been spoiled and lazy on the job for months. Thanks for helping us keep the peace!"

I look over at the girl. She's still sniffling and looks absolutely miserable, but she also looks at me contritely. I know that she's not likely to overcharge anyone--at least until she's able to sit comfortably again.

Now if only someone could do something about the price of milk.