Late Night Spankings: Part 4
The content in this Chronicle and on this website is intended for adults, 18 years and older.
Late Night Spankings
An R.L. Mathewson Chronicle
“Please kill me.”
“Oh, oh, oh, oh, that’s it, big boy! That’s the spot!” BND (Bitch Next Door) squealed.
“Who’s your daddy?” BND’s playmate screamed as Zoe groaned pathetically and rolled over onto her side and continued to hug the thin, lumpy pillow against her ear, but it did nothing to protect her from the deeply disturbing events going on next door.
“For the love of god, stop!” Haley begged as they both laid curled up on their respective hotel beds, praying for morning to come.
“Pinch my nipples, baby! Pinch them!” BND’s playmate screamed
“Oh, my god, when will it end?” she couldn’t help but ask, because after three hours she wasn’t sure that she could take much more.
“Let’s just go,” Haley suggested, and Zoe would be all for that plan if it weren’t for a few minor issues like 95 was still a parking lot and the fact that the pain tearing through her stomach was keeping her on this really disgusting bed.
“Twist it harder, baby! Daddy likes the pain!”
“Does Daddy like it hard, hmmm? Is that how Daddy likes it?”
“This needs to end,” Haley said, stating the obvious because she wasn’t sure how much more of this her sanity could take.
“Daddy loves it hard!”
“How about dirty? Does Daddy like it dirty?”
“Haley?” Zoe said as she tried not to think about what was going on next door.
“Yes?” she asked meekly.
“I hate you.”
“Put it in my ass! Oh, shove it up there!” BND’s partner shouted, which should have ended their night, but unfortunately for Haley and Zoe, it was only the beginning.
For the next three hours, Haley and Zoe learned things that they would probably never be able to forget and found the true meaning of hell. When seven o’clock rolled around and Google finally reported that traffic was moving on 95 and their stomach pain had subsided a little, they decided that it was time to leave. After they both took a lukewarm shower, got dressed and grabbed their overnight bags they headed for the door, silently vowing to never speak of this night again.
“You got the keys?” Zoe asked as they closed the hotel room behind them and-
“That was a lovely night,” a familiar woman’s voice said, drawing her attention to the door ten feet away from theirs.
She wasn’t sure what she’d expected when she looked up, but it wasn’t this. Standing less than ten feet away from them was Bitch Next Door and the bastard that had left them scarred for life.
If it had been anyone else, she probably would have screamed at them or at the very least, thrown her bag at them, but she just couldn’t do it, not when the elderly couple was smiling warmly at them and wishing them a Merry Christmas.
© Rerum Industries, Inc. 2016. All Rights Reserved.
This Chronicle series was based on my experience a few weeks ago at a Howard Johnson where I was forced to take the kids for the night. It was 2:30 in the morning and the kids had just fallen asleep when the nightmare began. It was without a doubt one of the most disturbing nights of my life, which is why I shared it with you.