Hot Scoop

 By Flatfish

It was 11:30 at night. Julie wound down the car window and felt the icy breeze whip down the dimly lit street. She had waited patiently for over an hour expecting trouble but so far the estate was uncharacteristically quiet. Sometimes being a freelance journalist was a lousy job. This estate had a growing reputation for teenage gang violence and vandalism but that wasn’t reason enough to spend the night in a freezing car instead of a nice warm bed; no she was waiting because she had picked up word on Facebook that there was going to be an attack tonight on a house in this street. 

Julie hadn’t been long in the job. She was a pretty twenty-one year old, fresh from university. She had graduated in journalism a few months earlier but with jobs being scarce she had decided to try her hand at freelance work. When she heard about the upcoming trouble she knew she should have told the police but hot scoops are rare and this could be her one chance for a great story. 

Voices caught Julie’s attention and she slid down in her seat to hide. A group of teenagers were making their way down the street, laughing and jostling each other. Julie poked her camera carefully out of the window and snapped a few shots, the miracle of digital technology saving her from revealing her presence with a telltale flash. The group stopped outside a house and a girl in the gang crouched down and picked something up. They looked up the driveway and laughed, then moved on. As they disappeared around a corner, Julie put away her camera, slipped quietly from the car and went to check out the house that had caused so much amusement. 

Julie was dressed in jeans and a hooded fleece, not unlike the gang members she had just witnessed. She scooped her long blond hair forward over her shoulders and pulled up the hood to protect herself from the biting cold. She sprinted over to the house and stopped at the spot where she’d seen the girl pick something up. She found the ground was peppered with stones and debris left over from some forgotten riot. She picked up one of the stones thoughtfully. Slowly she wondered up the driveway towards the house. It was a distressing site. Clearly this place had been targeted many times by vandals. The garage door and part of the house wall had been adulterated with disgusting graffiti and the garden fence had been kicked through.

There was a light on so she guessed the householder was still awake, but before she reached the front door she was stopped by the sound of footsteps. Suddenly, someone came racing up the gravel driveway behind her and hurled a quarter brick over her head, smashing the kitchen window. Julie turned quickly and caught a brief glimpse of the same girl she had spotted earlier. The hooligan joined her friends and they ran off down the street, laughing and yelling abuse. In that instant the house door burst open and a furious figure came hurtling out towards her.  Frank Briggs was tall and heavily muscled with his face distorted in an angry scowl. It was terrifying and Julie’s immediate reaction was to drop the stone she was holding and run. It was only when Frank grabbed her around the waist and lifted her off the ground that reason returned and she realised how guilty her attempt to flee must have looked. 

“No, wait, you don’t understand,” she screamed. 

“Oh I understand alright,” Frank snarled as he carried her towards the house. “I understand that I told you lot to clear off and nothing happened.” 

“No, it wasn’t me!” 

“I understand that I rang the police and still nothings happened.” 

“Please, let me go. You’re making a big mistake,” cried Julie. 

“It’s you who’s made the mistake girl. And now I’m going to give you some understanding. You’re going to understand what it feels like to have your backside tanned red raw. Maybe it won’t stop the vandalism but I’ll feel a hell of a lot better.” 

“What?” cried Julie in disbelief. “You’ve got to be joking. You can’t do this.” She kicked and fought in wild panic but Frank was strong and despite a few painful kicks to his shins, he had no trouble wrestling Julie into the house and kicking the door shut. 

Once inside, Frank flopped onto the couch and dragged Julie over his knee. She protested and struggled but Frank wasn’t interested in anything she had to say. These youths had pushed him and pushed him until finally he had snapped. Now this young madam was going to get exactly what she deserved. 

Julie’s jeans stretched like a second skin over her shapely bottom. Frank raised his hand high and slapped it down with a mighty whack. Julie howled as the sting bit into her right cheek and seemed to grow in intensity. Frank felt a massive wave of satisfaction and threw all his anger into giving this brat the spanking of her life. Julie bucked and writhed as the ferocious punishment went on and on but she could do nothing to escape the ever-growing fire. 

Eventually Frank’s fury diminished enough for his senses to return. He stopped the spanking and let Julie slide off his knee. She knelt on the floor speechless, rubbing and squeezing her bottom, her face scarlet with indignation and humiliation and her eyes glistening on the brink of tears. She pulled down her hood and shook her hair free, giving Frank his first glimpse of her face. 

Frank’s jaw dropped. He had expected to see the tearful face of a contrite teenager. Instead he found himself staring at a very attractive young woman. 

“You’re too old to be running around with a gang of kids,” he snapped angrily. 

Julie was about to give this oaf a furious torrent of abuse for attacking her without waiting for her explanation, but she held back at the last moment. Maybe she shouldn’t show her hand just yet. If she played her cards right she could maybe get under his skin and really get the inside scoop on this story. She just needed to pretend to be one of the vandals. If she came clean, she had the feeling Frank would immediately throw her out – especially when he realised she could have told the police about the attack before it happened and saved his kitchen window. And anyway, although that spanking really hurt, it had left her feeling pretty aroused and this guy was kind of handsome in a rugged way. 

“What’s it to you?” she said, acting the resentful captive and giving Frank a look of cocky defiance. 

“I’ll tell you what it is to me,” said Frank. “I’ve just tanned your backside because the police won’t do anything with a kid. But it turns out you’re an adult.” Frank pulled out his mobile. “That little punishment was fine for a brat but now I’m calling the police.” 

“No! Wait,” cried Julie, starting to panic. She hadn’t planned on police involvement. They wouldn’t take it lightly when they discovered she was wasting their time. “That’s not fair. You’ve already punished me for the window.” 

 “Like I said,” Frank answered. “That little spanking wasn’t an adult punishment.” 

Julie felt another thrill run through her loins at the mention of the word spanking. It was her favourite word, her favourite fantasy. 

“At your age,” Frank continued, “you should know better than to go around with a gang terrorising people. This is my old gran’s house. She’s eighty years old and she’s been here alone for months while I was away in the army. You creeps have nearly scared her to death. Well she’s gone away for a few days now while I sort you lot out, and I’m starting with you.” 

“Please, please don’t call the police,” said Julie. She scrambled to her feet. She had painted herself into a corner and now she didn’t know which way to turn. Should she confess and end the night in acute embarrassment or should she carry on with the deception. She was feeling an excitement that ran much deeper than her journalistic goal. This guy was really cute and he had just spanked her. He had inflamed her most base desires and it was pretty clear that despite his anger, he had the hots for her too. 

“Punish me a different way,” she pleaded, making a quick decision. She unzipped her hoody and dragged it off, revealing a yellow tee shirt that clung to her firm breasts. Her hands went nervously to her waist and she started to unfasten her jeans.  Frank just stared, amazed at the way things were unfolding. Julie pushed the jeans down her thighs then tottered over and threw herself back across his knee. It was the sexiest offer Frank had ever had and he wriggled underneath her in a bid to ease his discomfort as his swelling manhood tried to burst out of his jeans. 

Frank was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth… or the tail and to have a gorgeous, semi naked young woman over his knee begging for a sound spanking was incredible. He pushed her tee shirt up out of the way and rested one hand on her naked slim waist. He stroked the other hand over the curve of her round bottom, feeling the soft cotton of her skimpy white panties and the warm slightly reddened flesh that peeked out of either side. 

Julie thrilled at the stroke of Franks hand. For a second she was lost in ecstasy but then his hand froze and she realised that he had stopped admiring her bottom and remembered why she was over his knee. He still believed she was responsible for tormenting his grandmother and it was time for payback. 

Frank tightened his hold and raised his hand high. He slapped it down hard, causing Julie to yelp. The first smack had taken her by surprise. The blazing heat flared across her right cheek, far more intense than the earlier spanking. There was no time for the pain to ease before a second and third smack landed in the same place, trebling the sting. Then Frank moved his attack to her left cheek, roasting that before returning again to the right.  Faster and harder the spanking continued. Julie kicked her feet and squealed. Her bottom writhed and her hair flew with each stinging smack. Finally she could stand it no longer and her hand flew back to protect her bottom. Frank pushed it aside and continued to vent his anger. 

“Stop! Stop!” screamed Julie. “I didn’t do it. I really didn’t do it. I’m not a gang member – I’m a journalist!” 

Frank stopped in mid swing. 

“What did you say?” he growled. 

“I… I’m… a journalist,” Julie admitted nervously. “I’m sorry I deceived you.” 

“So you should be,” snapped Frank, still coming to terms with the revelation. “Thanks to you wasting my time, the real culprits have got away.”

“I… I hope it wasn’t entirely a waste of time,” said Julie, looking back at Frank over the swell of her upturned bottom. 

She was right of course. Frank had to admit that spanking Julie had been very satisfying in more ways than one. But it didn’t change the fact that the hooligans had escaped justice and it was Julie’s fault.

“I suppose you think I should let you go after your little confession,” said Frank. 

“Yes. Yes please,” said Julie. “My bottom’s really sore.” She tried to push her way to her feet but Frank held her down. 

“And I’m really angry,” Frank answered. “Angry that you’re a deceitful, money grabbing journalist, hanging around to make a quick buck out of other people’s misery.” 

“I’m sorry,” wailed Julie, tearfully. 

“Well sorry isn’t good enough,” said Frank. “I think we both know what you deserve.” He took hold of the waistband of Julie’s panties and she whimpered as he peeled them over her bottom and down her thighs. But despite her fear, Julie’s desire was reaching screaming pitch. 

Frank didn’t start spanking straight away. He was well aware that things had moved on from just punishing a naughty girl. A bond was forming between him and the gorgeous creature draped, trembling over his knee. He caressed Julie’s bare bottom with soft circular stokes causing her to moan. The night had taken a whole new turn. He had expected to be punishing a vandal but Instead, a beautiful, sexy, naughty young woman who shared his love of spanking had literally dropped in his lap. 

When he started to spank her, it was slow and firm. Julie writhed in time to Franks smacks, sometimes yelping and sometimes gasping. Frank picked up the pace and Julie starting to squirm, rubbing herself against his jeans where his hot manhood pressed against her. Faster and harder the spanking came and Julie’s breathing became fevered. When Frank increased the pace even more the luscious sting became so deep and arousing that Julie could bare it no longer. She twisted out of Frank’s grip and turned over on his lap, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck. Their lips came together and they kissed long and hard. 

Frank rose to his feet, scooping Julie into his arms. He carried her upstairs and placed her on the soft bedcovers. He pulled off her trainers and dragged away the jeans and panties that had bound her legs. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a condom but Julie snatched it from his hand and started to unwrap it while Frank tore away his own clothes. He clambered onto the bed and Julie stroked his erect manhood with cool gentle fingers then rolled the rubber sheath onto his engorged shaft. Their lovemaking was frantic and powerful and lasted deep into the night. 

When Julie awoke in the morning, she found Frank already awake and staring gloomily at the ceiling. She rolled towards him, hooking her leg over his and resting a hand on his chest. 

“You look troubled,” she said. 

“I was just thinking,” said Frank, “that I’m going to have to start again trying to catch those hooligans. I even forgot to board up the kitchen window last night. Maybe I should leave it and tempt them to break-in - a rat trap.” 

“No, no!” said Julie. “You were lucky I was there last night. If you’d caught the girl who threw that stone and put her over your knee, you would have spent the rest of the night in a police cell. And the courts don’t take kindly to adults who assault kids – no matter what the provocation.” 

“I know, your right,” answered Frank. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I was being driven out of my mind. I suppose I’m just going to have to admit defeat.” 

“No way!” exclaimed Julie with a grin. “Don’t forget, now you have the press on your side. That gang is finished. I’ve got photo’s of them loitering outside your house and I was an eyewitness when the girl smashed your window. I can sell this story to the tabloids. There’s nothing they like better than naming-and-shaming. And when the story hits the national press the police will have no choice but to clean this estate up and keep it that way.” 

Frank kissed Julie gently on the lips. 

“Now I want a promise from you Frank,” Julie continued. 

“Oh, and what’s that?” 

“Promise me that from now on the only girl you’re going to be spanking… is me!”