Chapter 4

Synopsis: The clique falls apart after the leader of the group, Alison, goes missing. One year later, the remaining estranged friends are reunited as they begin receiving messages from a mysterious villain named “A” or “A.D.”, who threatens and tortures them for the mistakes they have made before and after Alison’s death. At first, they think it is Alison herself, but after her body is found, the girls realize that someone else is planning on ruining their lives. The disappearance of Alison: When the body is found, ‘A’ starts to blackmail each of the once estranged pretty little liars.

Which brings us back to Spencer’s a restaurant that had migrated across our northern border. I kept on my whining, and finally, it was pretty obvious it was beginning to bother the other people in the restaurant. Suddenly, Spencer stood up and came to my side of the table. “That’ll be enough, young lady,” Spencer said as she pulled me up by the back of my shirt. Spencer sat down on my chair and, without batting an eye; she yanked me over her knee! I couldn’t believe what was happening—the daughter of my host family was going to spank with my own belt me right there in Spencer’s!

But that wasn’t the worst of it. I was wearing those tight fitting Wonder Woman panties since mine were still lost and in my suitcase at the airport. There with my nose about two inches from the dirty floor and my butt on display, I felt Spencer’s fingers inside my waistband of the shiny panties and then, whoosh!—the blue panties with white stars were pulled down to my knees. I was there with my bare butt up in the air, helpless over Spencer’s lap in front of everybody in the Spencer’s host garage.

Whack! Crack! Spank! Splat! “Sputter-Putt-Putt, “Spencer’s butt farted as her tampon swung between her reddened cheeks.

Crack! Spank! Spank! Splat!

Conversations ceased as the sounds of “A”’s hard hand connecting with my bare bottom resounded through the little restaurant. Oddly, though everybody was watching, nobody seemed to think it was at all unusual. A couple of the teenagers at one table giggled a little, till their father said, “That’s what ought to happen to boys who whine!” “Oww! Wow Ouch!”

Of course, I didn’t hear too many of the remarks, because the pain of “A”’s palm on my naked cheeks was so intense, and my embarrassment so great, I could hardly do anything but squirm around like crazy, trying to avoid those angry slaps.

“I’ve had just about enough out of you!” he roared. “Just wait till I was cracking a smile to the Spencer’s audience. get you back to the motel.”

With that, he pushed me to my feet and marched me toward the door. I didn’t even have a chance to pull my pants up, so my cock and balls (which were half-excited, like they always got when Spencer spanked me) were dangling between my legs and my pink rump was on display.

There were a couple of teenagers on duty, together with one guy in his fifties “A” and the Mounties talked to him a minute, and he nodded. I was standing there bare ass by the gas tanks, those two young guys cracking up at the sight of my two blazing hind cheeks.

Boys who whine, and ‘A’ thought it would really teach me a lesson to stand around in public with no pants and a screaming crimson fanny. Those kids thought it was a real hoot, but I think they were a little worried too that their own daddies might drive by and get some ideas.

Finally, Spencer told me to get my ass back to class. You guessed it; I scrambled over there like my bottom was on fire because that was the truth. I sought sanctuary

I was wearing a well-worn blue jean skirt that showed considerable wear in the bottom area. Actually it was a vintage Jordache denim skirt that had become somewhat thread-bare. When I wore it I knew I had a visible panty line that drove boys and men crazy with lust for my butt.

It worked every time I wore it in front of boys. And, once again here at Spencer’s they were enamored with me. This expelled Spencer from the boy equation.

The shit hit the fan as I had been enjoying a meal in an outdoor café and happened to look out on the sidewalk. There was a girl in a tight denim pencil skirt. She moved over to a parking lot across from the café and sat in her hot car. The lovely brown-haired young woman jumped right back up with a yelp. Me and the guys looked up from her smoky bone wings.

That’s summer in the south. Anyway when she returned to the sidewalk I saw her bottom poking out of the skirt seat and remarkably she placed her hand on her butt. Denim conforms to a woman’s shape and hugs their bottom.

Unfortunately, I continued to pull my panties down for the masked ‘A’, She owner of my bottom and I was tired of taking a beating! I couldn’t go to complain about the painful spankings and that also bruised my ego. I thought about it and how I could get out of my jam. I came to the conclusion Vancouver was the answer. Besides not only would my behind get a rest, but I would see some spectacular scenery and get some fresh mountain air.

Months into the weekly spankings, “A” had implicated me in the murder of the girl all the pretty liars knew and had been humiliated by over the years ... For the first time, I was glad to still be a juvenile. I was happy unlike him; I would not be behind bars like he would be for the next five years. I had a good job as an art graphics specialist or so I thought.