Two Hundred Dollars Ch. 24

It took Bailey three hours to realize what had happened.

To be fair to her, she experienced in those few hours so much discomfort just from sitting down, the nagging sensation of having forgotten something important had registered on the needle of her sensations.

But, sometime around two o'clock in the afternoon, she noted that her underwear felt a bit funny. She put it down to the fact that she'd worn it since yesterday and decided it high time to change.

Kent has a picture of me now, Bailey thought, seeing herself in the mirror, all stretched out on his bed.

The notion didn't worry her much, but left a slight tingle in her spine, the herald of a nascent adrenaline rush, ready to spike at a moment's notice.

No need to panic, she reminded herself, he's proved himself more than trustworthy. Look at this morning, for example...

Her thoughts trailed off as she slipped off her transparent panties and felt the strange sensation between her lips.

I'm still a bit wet from... oh, fuck!

Bailey tried to recall the sequence of events from the moment Kent had handed her phone back to her, but the whole episode had blurred into a continuous stream of sunlit images of herself and her own stunned amazement.

I just... just left? What the hell is wrong with me?

She knew she'd felt horny, felt her heart pumping her blood hard and that funny whooshing in her ears she'd get when Kent really got to her. At Laura's they'd had to hold back to spare Laura another wave of religiously inspired guilt, but she'd figured Kent would want to do something once they got back home.

And what happened? Bailey looked back in wonder. I got stunned by my own pictures and forgot everything else.

She shook her head in disbelief, hoping that she hadn't offended Kent.

I sat in his lap. I felt how ready he was. Oh, god, he must think I'm such a twit.

A part of her wanted to get up and walk over to his room, try to pick up where they'd left off, but the largest portion of her brain knew how ashamed she'd feel to admit what she'd done. What would Kent do? Laugh at her?

It's not like I can apologize. That's just not what we do.

She heard Kent's door open down the hallway, listened to his boots on the floor, heading away. Shortly, they clumped up the stairs and he left the apartment.

I guess I'll take a shower. No use putting on clean underwear without it.

=============================

Kent spent most of Sunday, when his mind didn't dwell on homework, wondering about Bailey. She'd reacted to her pictures in the strangest way, as if she'd never known the power of her own body.

Christ, Bai. I'm paying two hundred dollars because you're attractive, but you're surprised that you're attractive?

He'd mentally recorded the open-mouthed shock of her facial expression in his most persistent and reliable memory, far more reliable than that provided by any storage available in the cloud. Kent decided he'd done her a good turn, at least, providing her with something better than the dry recordings of their adventures she'd taken thus far.

It's mostly the sunlight though. Artificial light just doesn't do human bodies justice.

When his mind didn't cycle through Saturday morning's photography session, it switched over to Laura and her mental issues.

He couldn't quite countenance the idea of punishing Laura on behalf of her religion. Sure, when the wood went hard and the naked girl told him how badly she deserved it, Kent knew he'd give her the spankings she needed. But another part of him said that going along with her weird punishment scheme didn't make her any better.

Ugh, but you know if she bends over for you again, you'll slap her butt just like you did this morning.

The key to acting properly, reliable sources had told him, lay in deciding ahead of time on the correct behaviour and modelling it in your head. That made it much more likely you'd do the right thing in the heat of the moment.

But what's the right thing here? Laura's a grown-up, really. She's definitely consenting and it's not like she's actually ill. So what if she needs a spanking to make her guilt go away?

He regretted the university didn't have a chapter in their Ethics class for this sort of thing. They'd learned much on the subject of consent, and the importance of making all information available to all parties.

"Hey," Bailey popped her head in his doorway and Kent turned away from the screen full of homework he hadn't managed to maintain a focus on.

"What's up?"

"Wonderin' how you are," Bailey leaned her breastbone against his door frame, right next to the white board.

"Good, you?"

Bailey shrugged, "You look troubled, actually."

"Yeah," Kent tilted his head toward the ceiling in admission, "I'm wondering if it's really right to keep spanking Laura. I don't want to be her... um..."

"Angel of Atonement?" Bailey filled in with a smile.

"Colourful," Kent acknowledged. "But, yeah."

"I've never seen her this happy," Bailey pointed out, "She's actually giddy, sometimes, talking about all this. I've known her a long time."

"Fair enough," he said. "It's just a bit creepy."

Bailey nodded and came into his room, standing in the middle of the open space with her arms folded.

"Think of it this way," she said, staring at the ceiling.

Kent waited as Bailey collected her thoughts.

"It's like a game," she spoke her words not to him, but with a hollow voice, as if narrating for someone watching from a little camera hidden in the ceiling's light fixture, "the role you're playing makes Laura feel right. So you keep playing it as long as you both enjoy it, unless you think it's really, honestly bad for her."

"Until I feel like we're just taking advantage of her?"

"I assure you," Bailey said, "that's not happening here."

"You know her better than I do," Kent admitted.

Bailey squared off at him again, changing the entire tone in the room, "You ready?"

"You sure?" Kent's eyes widened, "you were pretty red yesterday."

"That's what makes this offer so entertaining," she said, marching over to the board, "Only a tiny bit different."

Bailey carefully put five ticks on the board.

What is she thinking? Fifteen completely naked? She might be able to take that, but I don't know.

"Five sets," she patted her denim covered butt as she turned, "Over top. With inspections."

"Inspections? Plural?" Kent asked, "How many?"

"One at the beginning," she said, "and one after every dollar."

"Forty-four spankings," he pointed out.

"Still good at math, then," Bailey replied dryly.

"Sounds like a deal," Kent said. "That's up to you anyway."

"Right," Bailey said. "But the, um, poses are up to you."

Kent felt blood rushing all over his body as the reality of their deal flowed through his brain, the realization striking him that he could tell her how to pose six different ways.

"Let's start easy, then," Kent instructed her quickly, pulling out the little stepping stool from under his bed, "Strip and bend over the bed."

"Hm," Bailey let out an unimpressed half-sigh and unbuttoned her jeans before stepping up on the stool and sliding her jeans and panties down to her knees before bending over the bed.

Kent stood behind her, reaching out with his hands to 'inspect' her.

That's part of it. If I don't do that, it's like I'm not trying to collect on everything owed.

Bright pink flesh greeted him every where he touched, though he felt delighted that the darkest red patches had already faded away. It gave him lots of space to work with.

"Forty four," he said. "Hope you can managed all that."

"I'll be fine," Bailey assured him and taking his comment as his admission the first inspection had ended, stood up straight and pulled up her pants.

After buttoning her jeans, she leaned over the bed and spoke over her shoulder, "This is comfy."

"Just like this?"

"Uh-huh."

Not a great deal of creativity on her part, but I guess I started it off boring, too, Kent realized as he started whacking away at her right cheek, the low, thick tones of his palm striking denim echoing around the room. We'll get better.

Bailey's counting voice came through so calmly that Kent kept his strikes focused, tightening them in the central area of her right cheek. He stopped when she called out, "Eight!"

She turned her head to look at him quizzically.

"One group of eight," he explained, "And four groups of nine, right?"

Bailey shrugged and stood up, waiting expectantly.

"On your side," he said, "Facing the wall."

With a tentative nod of approval, she turned her back on him and laid down with her head to his right. She undid her jeans and wiggled out of them, revealing a snug, athletic pair of blue panties. She slid these out of the way to bare her cheeks to him.

"How do I look?"

"The right one is definitely redder already."

"It was redder before," Bailey pointed out, tilting her hips a little to lift that cheek away from the sheets.

"Well, now it's substantially redder," he corrected himself.

Kent looked at the way the light from the window lit Bailey's backside and set himself a course. Bailey, seeing the gleam in his eye, narrowed her eyes and glared at him.

"What are you up to?" she asked cautiously.

"You'll see."

Bailey pulled her panties back up and then her jeans, informing Kent, "I'll do the next set Laura's way."

"Perfect," he said, "As long as I can get at both cheeks."

Once she'd buttoned up, Bailey assumed the pose Laura had first shown them so many weeks ago, sticking her butt out while resting her hands on her knees.

Alright, Kent took a breath and focused, taking a position on Bailey's left so his right hand had a good angle for every important part of her. Fortunately, I get several chances to take a look at her ass and make sure I've got this right.

His next strike landed on her left cheek, a little left of centre.

"Nine," she announced patiently.

Kent landed two more strikes on the left cheek, perfectly centre.

"Ooh," Bailey cried out in surprise. "Ten, eleven."

He moved over the inside of her left cheek and landed four strikes there in rapid succession.

"Ha!" Bailey yelled out. "Twelve, thirteen, fourteen... FIFTEEN!"

=============================

Bailey turned around to glare at Kent, about to shout some curse at him, but choked on her words as she caught the intensity of his own glare, concentrated entirely on her butt.

What the fuck is he up to?

Before she could think of anything to say, Kent raised his hand struck the outside of her right cheek, twice in succession.

Bailey gulped and counted out, "Sixteen and seventeen."

"Alright," Kent said, turning an analytical look her way, "Up on the bed, hands and knees."

He really does have a plan, she realized, mechanically crawling up on the bed, look at the focus in his eyes.

She felt a bit like she had when he'd taken all those pictures the morning before, as if he'd decided to use her body for something, and taken away little pieces of her soul with each image. Now, his clinical look did the same thing, slicing and dicing her for a critical purpose to which Bailey had no clue. Her wonder now outstripping any anxiety about nudity, she knelt on his bed, pushed her jeans and underwear out of the way, and bent over like he'd asked.

I'm spreading my legs enough he can see my pussy from there, but I bet he doesn't even care.

Instead, she felt his finger tracing lines across her ass, left to right, squeezing almost to the point of pinching, here and there. The strange detachment she'd seen in his eyes continued in his touch.

Not emotionless, really, Bailey decided, it's just that one step above the pure lust I'm feeling right now.

"Alright," Kent took his hands away.

She buttoned up her jeans again and stretched out across his bed on her stomach, keeping her body as straight as possible.

"How's this?" she asked.

"Works for me."

Although she'd put her right cheek farthest away from him, perhaps subconsciously trying to protect it, he concentrated all of her spankings on that side, pounding away the hardest on her outside of her cheek.

"Twenty five and twenty six," she sucked air through her teeth.

"You sure you can do all five sets?" Kent asked, an honest note of worry in his voice.

"I'll be fine," she scolded him, lifting her chest off his bed so she could look at him. "How do you want me?"

"Right," Kent's concern melted away as she pointed over at head of the bed where the sunlight still his the wall. "Stand up there, in the light, so I can see you properly."

"Oh."

She remembered the sunlight, that powerful beam of magic that had lit her body. As Bailey stood at the head of the bed and pulled down her jeans, she felt the warmth of the sunlight on her cheeks, and stuck her hips out. Locking her knees outward to keep her pants from falling down, she laid her hands against the wall.

The bed sank a little as Kent knelt down behind her. Both of his hands took hold of her cheeks, squeezing hard, before he backed off and she felt fingertips tracing vertical lines down from her waist to her thighs. Every time he made those lines, she did her best to suppress her shivers, but her body moved of its own volition. Her hips, of their own accord, pushed backwards, willing his fingers to delve between and under her cheeks.

Touch me, already, you jackass.

But Kent backed off and said, "Alright."

Bailey inhaled sharply and fell to her knees, bouncing slightly on the bed, and pushed away from the wall, using her hands to brace herself as she exposed her denim clad cheeks. If she arched her back just right, it gave her about ninety degrees of bend at the hips. That should suffice for whatever plan Kent had in motion.

The spankings started landing with so little warning, she fell behind in the count and had to rush to catch up by the time she got to, "Thirty!"

Kent, she noticed, had a very specific pattern. His strikes were landing on her cheek in very precise, focused locations, picking away at her flesh piece by piece, even as he hammered harder on the sorest, rightmost portion of her ass.

"Thirty-five!" she announced, stunned by the rapidity of his onslaught. "What the hell?"

"Almost done," Kent's voice came out as somewhere between a warning and a promise.

"Uh-huh," Bailey twisted her mouth as she rubbed her rear. "Need another look?"

"That's the deal," Kent said. "On your back this time. Legs straight up."

Bailey gulped, wishing she hadn't pushed him. They'd done this position before but she had to think about how she wanted to get into it. Putting her feet on the floor, she undid her jeans and pushed them down to her knees, leaving her panties in place. Then she sat back, rolled onto her back on the bed and, only when her she'd gotten her legs up, did she finally push her panties out of the way.

She felt her heart pounding as Kent knelt on the floor, and pushed at her thighs to lift her hips up and get a good look underneath.

"How much can you see?" she tried to keep the quiver of your voice.

Kent paused in his inspections. "A lot?"

"What's 'a lot'?"

"Well," he drawled, and his fingers slid down her thighs toward her butt. "I can show you by touching you."

"Okay," she breathed, and her body instantly tingled as his fingers gently stroked her hair, her lips, pushing gently into the skin of her vulva.

"Oh!" Bailey squeaked, twitching and jumping as he came close to her entrance.

Kent's hand moved away from her tender areas, "About that much."

Bailey inhaled, "I see."

He had returned to his examination by then, touching and stroking her reddened cheeks, pushing her up higher to get a closer look at what flesh lay against the sheets. She barely noticed any of this however, because the play of his breath across her hair overrode all other sensations.

"All right," Kent gave her a last squeeze. "Let's do the last nine. You ready?"

Eagerly, and without thinking, Bailey rolled to her left and planted her feet on the floor before pulling her clothes back into place.

"Here," she said, and put her feet back on the stool. "I don't know what you're doing, but this should give a good angle."

The pain of his spankings had crossed some threshold where it no longer mattered to her. She wanted to get to the end of it and this position would get her there the fastest.

He started slapping her ass right away, six quick shots to her right cheek followed by two to the left.

"... forty two, forty three ..." Bailey counted, waiting for the last one.

Kent laid his hand directly on the centre of both her cheeks, his palm stretching across the seam of her jeans. Understanding what he wanted, she squeezed her legs together as tightly as she could.

Here it comes.

His hand rushed through the air and pounded his last strike at the insides of both cheeks.

"Forty four, Christ," she exclaimed, standing up and grabbing her rear. "How do you want for the last 'inspection'?"

"If you want a picture," Kent said, pointing at the head of his bed, "Stand in the sunlight. But I'd have you over my lap for the end."

"Alright," she said, and fiddled with her phone before handing it to him. "Here."

I wonder what the hell he did to my butt.

She climbed up on his bed again and turned her back before unbuttoning her jeans and dropping them and her panties to the mattress.

"Get in close," she reminded him, "I don't want my clothes in the picture."

She lifted her shirt up past her midriff and Kent moved in to take a few shots.

"That should do it," he said, holding up the phone and sitting on the edge of the bed.

Bailey knelt down, turned away from him, and then slid across his lap. Kent grabbed her cheeks almost instantly, squeezing and kneading her muscles like he always did.

My god, his hands, she felt a whimper building inside her and let her legs go soft so they'd naturally spread apart.

She switched the phone into display mode and caught the first picture of her ass.

"How did you do that?" she blurted out before she realized it for a stupid question.

It's perfectly obvious how he did it, idiot, she chided herself for sounding like a child, you gave him forty four spankings and all the viewing time he needed to get it right.

Through denim, he probably couldn't have made the highly defined patterns he'd made before. Instead, he'd blended the colour of her cheeks from a pale pink on the leftmost part of her left cheek to a deep, angry red on the outside of her right cheek. He'd spent each 'inspection' going over her ass super carefully for the expressed purpose of getting the coloration smooth all the way across her cheeks.

"Skillz," Kent replied calmly, his hands sliding down to massage the insides of her thighs.

"This is really impressive," she complimented him, spreading her legs farther and lifting her hips.

"This how you like it?" Kent asked, sliding his right hand under her body and cupping her vulva, his middle finger nudging gently at the wetness between her lips.

"Oh god, yes," she muttered, felt her brain melting even as she added, "your other hand..."

Oh, good, he knows what I mean, Bailey thought, as his left hand found her lower back and pushed her into his right hand. Perfect.