Glenda Page is a household name, an opinionated, shamelessly un-PC newspaper columnist, who happily fat-shames other women while constantly banging on about ‘traditional values’.
Such morals are, of course, only for the little people, Glenda comes from aristocratic stock, is no stranger to a snort of the Devil’s marching powder at showbiz parties. Put bluntly, a high-profile hack and hypocrite. This evening she’s booked to appear on a late-night TV talk show and waits in her dressing room for someone to attach a microphone. Unfortunately for her, the technician, Nat, is consummately versed in Glenda’s notoriety. These days the journalist’s by-line extends beyond newspapers to encompass social media, including Twitter. Therein lies the problem.
“Hurry up,” urges Glenda.
“Plenty of time, you’re not on air for twenty minutes,” he replies calmly, “besides, there’s something you and I need to discuss.”
“I don’t think that likely,” Glenda responds coldly.
“Specifically,” continues Nat, “your recent online post about an actress friend of mine. Emmy Colston.”
“Oh,” answers Glenda, taken off guard, “that one.”
“Yes,” continues Nat, “that one. You’re supposed to be a professional; yet didn’t bother to check if the allegations were true. Simply repeated gossip to millions of followers and almost cost her a career defining part. Emmy wasn’t even at the party, let alone doing drugs – unlike you.”
“Alright, I admit it, not my finest moment, but the newspaper did apologise,” responds Glenda airily.
“Only in print, and a week later on page 34,” says Nat angrily.
“Look, I just give my readers what they want,” responds Glenda, “I’m paid to provide controversy, not sweet reason. Scandal sells.” Even as she trots out this obviously rehearsed defence Glenda doesn’t appear to believe it.
“Give them what they want, get what you deserve,” says Nat darkly.
“Meaning what exactly?” Glenda says warily.
“A penalty based on the traditional values you parrot; a ‘common sense’ punishment from the ‘good old days’.”
“You can’t mean…”
“A spanking,” confirms Nat with relish, “I certainly do.”
“And how are you going to make me comply?”
“Not only has this conversation been recorded; it might easily be accidentally transmitted. Also, I’m considerably stronger than you.” A fact decisively demonstrated when a shocked Glenda is pinned face down over Nat’s knee, designer skirt hoisted to expose her curvaceous rear, stiletto-shod feet drumming a distress call as her buttocks judder beneath the impact of his hand.
Ignoring pleas for mercy, Nat spanks her long and hard, through the spectrum from pink to crimson; spanks Glenda until every inch of her bottom and upper thighs burn fiercely, radiating a palpable heat, pulls her panties off and does so again. Within five minutes she’s transformed from a haughty celebrity to disciplined penitent. It’s been a long time since anyone stood up to Glenda. At last, a red-blooded man, exactly what she needs.
“Get up,” Nat’s punitive onslaught finally ends. Glenda stands, desperately massaging her sore bottom.
“What are you going to do next?” she enquires. In truth Nat hasn’t thought that far ahead, surprised security hasn’t already been summoned. Glenda reaches forward and undoes his belt. “Perhaps use this?” Now it’s his turn to be taken aback, clearly Glenda retains a spark of provocative defiance.
“No,” he decides, “you’ve suffered sufficiently.”
Glenda faces him, unabashed. “Firm but fair,” she observes with a wry smile. “In which case I should thank you for your clemency.” Adeptly she undoes the front of his jeans and propels Nat onto her dressing room chair. Shrugs off her skirt and purposefully straddles the astonished young man. “Quite the white knight,” drawls Glenda, freeing Nat’s burgeoning erection, “and goodness, what a sword! That act of avenging valour seems to have turned you on every bit as much as it did me.”
Wet and ready, she slowly lowers herself onto his engorged cock. “Ooh, up to the hilt,” she gasps appreciatively. Rests her hands on his shoulders, hips dancing upon his lap. Belatedly Nat realises their roles have reversed, Glenda is fucking him, urgently sliding back and forth along his erection, pelvic floor muscles working overtime. He palms her impressive boobs, eliciting a sensual growl in response.
“Oh yes, squeeze them harder,” she murmurs, doubling down on his pulsating rod. Knowing his climax is close Nat grabs her tormented buttocks and grips them tightly as he ejaculates. This combination of pain and pleasure proves too much to withstand and Glenda surrenders to a vocal and uninhibited orgasm. “Yes!”
“Consider me chastened but unreformed,” says Glenda, composure regained. “I’m posh darling, we know what we want and don’t suffer sexual embarrassment. The upper class adore bottoms – I was schooled with a riding crop when barely out of my teens. Consequently, I intend to become intimately acquainted with your belt, and more of that lovely cock.”
“Three minutes to air,” calls a voice from the corridor.
“Quick, help me clean up, I can’t be filmed leaking,” says Glenda.
“You’ll certainly have a glow in your cheeks, although the viewers will see one pair,” replies Nat. “I’ll be waiting when you return.”
Glenda shivers with pleasure at the thought and walks gingerly towards the cameras.
