He looks at the business card. The photo shows Emily turning her face back to be seen with her very red bruised bottom. The writing says "Spank Emily's bare bottom to match photo." On the back handwritten is "talked back."

The twelve year old girl blushes. She holds up a large thick hairbrush.

"Do your parents always ask strangers to spank you?"

"Only when I do something in public. Mom says if she's embarassed, I should be embarrassed. You need to sign the card after. Mom might call you to check."

"Have you ever ..."

"My girlfriend paddled me so hard I thought she'd be satisfied. I had to fulfill five new cards as well as the old one again. A busy two weeks. Please don't go easy on me, because then Mom will give out another card to do it again."

"Does your Mother always pick out strangers to discipline you?"

Handing him the hairbrush, "About twice a week on average."

"She's sounds very strict."

She nods, unbuttons her jeans, sliding down panties to her ankles. He sits down. She goes over his knee. At first he hesitates, but her beautiful round white bottom beckons. He swats her lightly six times. The bottom is slightly rosie.

"Harder. Much harder," She cries.

He smiles, realizing how much he wants to do exactly that. He puts some muscle into his swing getting a satisfying yelp from the girl. Alternating cheeks he swings harder and harder. The girl is sobbing "no, no," but he continues. Her bottom pumping from the unreleased heat, her wetness peeking out between her thighs. He continues spanking as her legs kick out.

Thinking back on the card, he works to out do it. Taking his time, taking a longer swing, high overhead. Smacking becomes cracking and her sobbing becomes screaming. Yet he doesn't stop. For another ten minutes he beats on. When he stops he grasps her bottom rubbing as he knows she needs him to. Then he stops, a tease. He swats away her hand, continuing in his own good time. His fingers teasing her wet lower lips. He flicks his fingernails over her clit to finish her off.

He lets her rise. She stands wiping her eyes, pants still at her ankles. Placing the card photo next to her ass.

"I think I did pretty good. Hope you don't hold it against me."

Hugging him, his face against her stomach. She rubs his head and he continues rubbing her bottom. Finally she pulls up her jeans. He signs her card with a smile adding his phone number underneath.

"If she likes my work, maybe she'll call me the next time you're bad."

She answers, "If she doesn't, I might."

Scooting off with a giggle. He watches her uncomfortable walk with satisfaction.

A week later the phone rings.

"Hello."

"You don't know me, but you .... met my daughter."

"Has she been bad again."

"No, but I have. Can I come over?"

"You bet, but I'll have to be harder on you than your daughter."

"You're strict, I like that."