Unfinished story: Consequences of shoplifting (M/f story)

 Like last week, I have a story that's not quite finished yet, but still worth reading. I'll finish it in January.

I was out for a long evening walk, enjoying the cool air after a hot summer day, when I walked past a small corner store and heard raised voices and a woman who sounded close to tears. Curiosity overcame me, and I went inside to see what was going on.

The teenaged girl standing in the centre of the room stared at me. "Eric!" she shouted in relief. She rushed towards me and threw her arms around my neck, tears in her eyes.

"Breanna? What's wrong?" I said. Breanna was a slim girl of 18 with long, blonde hair and large, blue eyes.

A tall, balding, middle-aged man approached me, with a stout, red-headed woman of about the same age following two steps behind him. "You know this girl?" he asked me.

"Yes, I'm a friend of Breanna," I replied. It would be more correct to say she was my younger sister's best friend, but I figured they weren't too interested in the details. I glanced down at Breanna, but she'd buried her face in my shirt, sniffling. "What's wrong?" I said to the man.

"The little missy was shoplifting!" the woman responded. "She took two bottles of wine and hid them in her backpack when she thought we weren't looking – and dropped one of them when we caught her."

I glanced down at the whimpering girl. "Breanna, is this true?" She didn't answer at first, so I gently rubbed her back and repeated the question. She nodded, giving me a tearful gaze.

"I was at the pub with the girls, and when I left, I wanted a couple of bottles to take home." Her lower lip trembled. "I didn't have enough, so I thought…"

"You thought you'd steal them instead." I shook my head. "I expected better of you, Breanna:" I guess my tone was slightly harsher than I intended, for the tears immediately started flowing again, and she buried her face in my shirt again and sobbed.

"Hello! What's going on here, then?" A police officer entered the store. She was a dark-haired athletic woman who appeared to be in her late thirties, and introducing herself as Officer Kaye. The couple, who turned out to be the store owner and his wife, Mr and Mrs Brockham, explained the situation, while I continued to comfort the slightly intoxicated teenager.

The police officer placed a gentle, but firm, hand on Breanna's shoulder. "Right. Come with me, young lady," she said. When Breanna didn't respond, the officer tried to disentangle the teen's arms from around my neck, but it proved to be more difficult than we supposed. She held on for dear life, clinging to me like a babe to her mother.

"Please, Eric! Isn't there anything you can do?" Breanna whimpered. I knew how scared she was of getting into trouble, but while I was flattered at her belief in my abilities, I didn't see what could be done.

"Shame about seeing a young girl like that in court," the man grumbled. "Back in my day, a young lady who stole would have her butt spanked instead. Teach her not to steal again."

"I think I'd have preferred that," Breanna mumbled in my ear.

A solution to our little problem had suddenly presented itself to me. I looked at the man. "If I give Breanna a good spanking, do you agree not to press charges?"

Breanna gasped, staring up at me, but didn't release her grip. For a few seconds, no one spoke. The man raised an eyebrow, considering the proposal. "Hm. If I thought she'd been sufficiently punished… but I think I'd prefer to spank the little miss myself."

"No!" Breanna squealed. "Not you! I trust Eric!"

I glanced at the officer, who blushed slightly and seemed taken aback by the suggestion. She cleared her throat. "It's HIGHLY unorthodox, but as long as the young lady consents, and Mr Brockham agrees not to press charges…"

Mrs Brockham folded her arms in front of her chest. "My husband and I would have to watch the spanking, to make sure she's been properly punished," she said sternly. He nodded.

"I need to be there as well," the officer stated. "To make sure nothing improper occurs."

"What do you say, Breanna?" I asked the teary-eyed girl.

"A trip to the police station, or a spanking over the knee of my best friend's brother while a crowd of people watch," she pouted, considering her options, before finally unclasping her hands from my neck. "I'll take the spanking, please," she whispered mournfully.

Mr Brockham locked the door to make sure nobody interrupted what was about to happen. Mrs Brockham led the way to the back of the store, where there was a small breakroom with a handful of chairs. I placed one of them at the back of the room, where the others would be able to see what was going on. Sitting down, I told Breanna to stand in front of me. She bit her lower lip, looking nervously down at me.

"Are you ready for your spanking, Breanna?" I said. She nodded gloomily, and I patted my thigh. "Then bend over my knee."

I guided her over my lap, her hands and feet on the floor and her bottom raised. She'd never seemed more vulnerable or fragile than she did in that moment. I placed my hand on the seat of her skirt, feeling her tremble under my palm. I then raised my hand and started to spank her.

The first few smacks were gentle and hesitant – I'd never spanked anyone before, and while I knew the basic gist, the execution turned out to be trickier. Breanna whimpered, but more from embarrassment and shock than pain. I lifted my hand higher, delivering a few harder slaps that rang out in the little room. This had more of an effect; Breanna let out a surprised squeal, squirming a little over my lap, but she quickly calmed down. I continued to spank her, slapping my palm down on her quivering rear end.

I glanced up – three pairs of eyes were staring at us, watching my every move. The two storeowners were openly gleeful about seeing the thief being disciplined, but while Officer Kaye had a more serious expression on her face, there was a strange light in her eyes that suggested she secretly enjoyed it as well. I decided to ignore our audience, focusing on the task at hand.

"She can't feel anything over that thick skirt," Mrs Brockham commented. Her husband grumbled his assent. I looked over at them, and then moved my gaze to Officer Kaye, who nodded. Sighing, I grabbed the hem of her skirt. I felt Breanna tense over my lap, clearly embarrassed, but she didn't protest as I raised the skirt to reveal a pair of white cotton panties.

As I continued to spank her, I immediately noticed the difference. A much crisper smack was produced whenever my hand struck, and Breanna started to yelp every time my hand landed, wriggling unhappily over my lap.

My hand continued to move from cheek to cheek, slamming down on her soft cheeks. Breanna had begun to kick her legs, and our audience was leaning forward in their seats, clearly enjoying the show. "Ouch! This hurts," Breanna squealed. "Isn't it enough soon?" 

"Her bottom's barely pink," Mrs Brockham huffed.

"I can't tell with those big knickers in the way," her husband replied. "You should take them down, sonny."

Before I could respond to this outrageous suggestion, Breanna circled my leg with both arms, holding on for dear life. "No! Please, Eric! You can't do that! I'd die! Please, please, please!"

"Her panties stay up," I told them, my tone of voice letting them know it was not up for debate.

Mr Brockham huffed. "It's just not a proper spanking unless her bottom –"

"You could pull them UP instead," the officer suggested. "Give her a wedgie. This will let you see the colour of her cheeks, while protecting her modesty."

I glanced at her, surprised at this suggestion by an officer of the law. Slowly, Breanna released my leg. "Go ahead," she whispered. "If it helps me avoid being arrested…"

I reached forward and grabbed her panties. Breanna whimpered as I pulled them up into her crack, revealing a pair of pink buttocks. There were traces of handprints all over them. It was slightly unreal knowing that I'd actually done that to my sister's best friend.

"Doesn't look like she's taken any damage," Officer Kaye commented. "Continue when you're ready."

I resumed the punishment, spanking Breanna soundly. As the hard slaps rained down on her unprotected buttocks, she squealed and squirmed. Before long, tears were rolling down her cheeks again, and she was promising to never, ever steal again.

As she let out an agonized howl, I glanced over at Mr Brockham, wondering if it was enough. He caught my look and nodded. "I'd say that's one well-spanked young lady who'll think twice before stealing in my store."

I ended the spanking, rubbing her bottom gently as I whispered soothingly. "Shh. It's over, Breanna. Your spanking is over." I helped her up, and she immediately leaned close to me for another hug. Soon, she was sitting on my lap while I comforted her.

"Well done, sonny," Mrs Brockham told me as she stepped forward to shake my hand. "Didn't think you had it in you, to be honest." Her husband expressed his approval as well.

"Should we go into the store? I think the young people would like to be alone," the wife said, and her husband and the police officer followed her out of the room. I rubbed Breanna's back gently, drying her tears while continuing to whisper soothinly.

I think it took about ten or fifteen minutes before we returned to the store. Breanna had calmed down, but it was still obvious she'd been crying. I paid for the bottle that was broken, and prepared to walk Breanna home.

"Actually, I should drive the two of you," the police officer told us. "I think the young lady would like some privacy." Breanna accepted her offer and told Officer Kaye her address.

"Thanks, but that's not necessary," I told her. "I don't live too far from here, and was out walking anyway."

"Nonsense. It's no trouble, and besides, you want to make sure Breanna comes home safely, don't you?" the officer argued. Presented like that, I saw no reason to decline, so I gave her my address.

I'd never ridden in the back of a police car before, and it was slightly unsettling. Breanna leaned her head against me, seeking comfort, and I hugged her. Before long, we pulled up in front of Breanna's house. Fortunately, her parents were out, so there where no awkward questions about why she was being driven home by the police – or why she was rubbing her bottom and grimacing.

I offered to stay with Breanna, but she declined, giving me a hug and thanking me for being there. "I just want to slip into the tub with some music and a glass of… something that isn't wine," she said, rubbing her bottom ruefully.

I reflected on the strange day I'd had, with no idea that it was about to become even stranger.

The officer seemed oddly relieved when I exited the house, as if she'd been worried I'd stay with Breanna. I couldn't imagine why. I was about to sit in the back seat, but she stopped me. "Sit up front," she told me. I agreed to the suggestion.

She started the car, but I noticed that Officer Kaye was driving a lot slower now. After a short silence, she spoke up. "Do you think your girlfriend will be OK?"

"Breanna? It seemed like she's doing reasonably well. Traumatizing, of course, but…" I shrugged, not sure how to phrase it. "She's not my girlfriend, though. A friend of my sister," I said. Something to fill the silence.

She raised an eyebrow. "And what do you think your girlfriend will say when she hears you've been spanking your sister's friends?"

I frowned. Where were these questions coming from? Why was a police officer pressing me about my dating life? "I don't have a girlfriend."

Was it my imagination, or was that a smile on her lips?

After a few seconds, she spoke up again. "So, how did it make you feel?"

"What?" I asked.

"Putting her over your knee and spanking her." This time, there was definitely a smile on her face. "Did you enjoy it?"

I glared at her. "Of course not! She's a friend of mine, and I hurt her! She was embarrassed and in pain. Why would I enjoy that?" I sat back down. "I just know how  scared she is of being in trouble like that, and under the circumstances, it was the lesser of two evils."

"Oh," she said, a hint of disappointment in her tone. "So, you don't think you'd enjoy spanking… someone else?"

I sighed, growing tired of these pointless questions. "Why do you ask? Do you need a spanking as well?"

A squeak escaped her lips, and she blushed a fiery red. For a few seconds, she seemed unable to speak, her mouth gaping as a fish on land. I was about to apologize for my comment, when she whispered "…Yes."

"Excuse me?" I said, wondering if I'd heard what I thought I'd heard.

She swallowed. "Yes, I need a spanking," she told me quietly.

"Oh," I said. I tried to think of anything else to say, but nothing came to mind.

"To tell you the truth, I've enjoyed being spanked for… some time. I can sometimes find someone to spank me, but actually GOOD spankers are rare." She sighed. "The way you took charge… The way you spanked her… My God, that aftercare…" She squirmed in her seat, as if picturing herself in Breanna's place. She glanced over at me. "I know that this is a lot to ask, and you can say 'No' if you want to, but…" Her voice fizzled out.

Looking her, I considered what she asked of me. This tall, strong policewoman looked so lost and scared that I couldn't help feeling sorry for her. I raised an eyebrow, speaking in what I hoped was a stern tone. "Do you need a good, hard spanking, young lady?"

A relieved grin spread across her face. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you SO much."