More silly than anything else. Female submissive/brat.

“You ok, Jen?” Marc asked his glassy-eyed friend.

“Oh, I’m fine,” she responded. “I’m just trying to figure out if this season’s trophy I’ll win will fit on the shelf with the last three, or if I’ll need to build a new shelf in order to fit everything.”

“Big words from a not-so-big person,” Jason kidded before grabbing another swig of beer.

“Three years in a row, losers,” Jen bragged. “And this year won’t be any different. Now, do we call it ‘fourpeat’ or ‘quaderiffic’ or do we just acknowledge that this league is a group of boys playing against a goddess?”

“When the fuck did we all get so old?” chimed Kevin, changing the subject. “There is not a single person on my roster who is older than any of us!”

“If we are changing the subject, Kev-bo,” Jason said, “Marc, what the fuck happened at that town hall?”

Everyone turned their head to the homeowner. And everyone stopped giggling. “Well, you see, it shouldn’t have been in a church. That just fueled . . . well let’s just say that the setting fueled my desire to stir shit up.”

The previous week, in a “get to know the school board candidates better” town-hall, Marc was asked for his opinions on corporal punishment. He answered “handing out violence to children, while instructing them that violence is wrong, is hypocritical and confusing.”

That may have been enough, but he didn’t quite stop there. In little more than a whisper, yet loud enough that everyone in the room heard, he added “but, what happens between consenting adults is a different thing, entirely.”

The crowd, already quiet, seemed to hush more.

“At least I woke everyone up from their boredom,” Marc said, and the group of friends laughed as one. The laughter was almost so uproarious that Jen’s mid-giggle question of “can I consent?” remark went unheard.

But the comment wasn’t lost in the laughter. In fact, much like the hush that fell among the crowd after the “consenting adult” comment, the friends all shifted nervously.

“Well, why don’t you lie down over my lap, then?” Marc responded. And the typically-unflappable Jen’s face started to grow a rarely-seen shade of pink. Noticing the blush, Marc added “let’s see if we can make another set of cheeks match those on your face.”

Maybe it was the glasses of wine over the draft. Maybe it was a night of laughter amongst friends. Maybe it was years-old sexual tension that had never been addressed. Jen placed herself over Marc’s lap.

He pulled her sweater up over her bottom and spanked her through her yoga pants. Hard.

She wiggled.

He spanked harder.

Jason & Kevin watched, transfixed, mouths slightly open.

“Surely you can do better than that,” Jen chided.

Marc grabbed the top of Jen’s pants, pulled them over her butt and lifted his knee as his hand met her flesh.

“Now, that’s more like it,” Jen exclaimed. “That’s a good burn.”

“If you told the sixth grade me that this day would come, I wouldn’t have believed you,” Jason said, staring at his friends bare, reddened ass in disbelievement.

“What, that I had a body?” Jen questioned. “It’s grown children!”

“So, there was a day in Mr. Hergert’s class,” Jason started.

“Oh god, not this,” Kevin interrupted, turning a similar shade of red to his friend’s bared ass.

“I do believe you gave Kevin his first hard-on. It was the end of the school year & you were wearing a tshirt with loose sleeves, and you raised you hand to answer a question, and Kevin saw…”

“A hint of sideboob gave you a hardon?” Jen questioned.

Kevin turned a deeper shade of red. “It wasn’t even side boob,” he said, shaking his head & burying his face with his hands. “You were wearing a bra. I saw a little bit of the strap under your armpit.”

“You are aware that bras suck, right?” Jen questioned her friends.

“It was sixth grade – the female form was mystifying,” Jason interjected.

“Well, yes, I would imagine that sixth grade you, Kevin, wouldn’t be able to handle knowing 40-something year old you would see my ass and, well, I would imagine, but more than a hint of vulva,” Jen answered, shaking her ass.

Marc spanked said ass.

“You’re getting better at this big guy!” Jen noted. “No response Kevin?”

“I think he’s confused by the term vulva, Jen,” Marc said, cracking up. “It’s not pussy and it’s not vagina.”

“Dear god. You know, if you were actually paying attention to Mr. Hergert instead of trying to grab a glimpse of my underwear! Unless you’ve been into medical play with a speculum or you have a camera up your dick, you never actually see a vagina. You know that, right?”

“And what happened to the spankings?” she added.

Marc’s hand hit her ass once again before he said “guys, head downstairs, and grab some ping-pong paddles.”

“Now you’re talking,” Jen added as the friends stumbled over themselves leaving the room. They returned quickly.

Jason tapped her with a paddle. “What the hell was that?” Jen yelled.

Kevin smacked her far harder. “Ow,” she exclaimed.

“Oh god, I’m sorry – I was trying to…”

“I said ow, I didn’t say stop!” she interrupted his apology.

And then both of them delivered blows in unison until Jen’s body started rocking in time to the blows.

She let out a sigh as they let her her catch her breath. “You know, I should probably work my way home,” Jen said, reaching behind her legs and pulling up her yoga pants. “But this was an unexpectedly fun evening. And Chris thanks y’all for the fucking I’m about to give him.”

As she stood she rubbed her ass. “Nicely done, boys. Oh, and Kevin? This is a far better view than a hint of bra through a tshirt arm hole,” she said, pulling up her shirt, showing off her bra & shaking her boobs toward him before dropping her shirt back down and turning her back to the boys.

As she left the room “If any of you guys outlive me, know I want this on my headstone: Here lies Jen. Beloved mother and wife. Fantasy Football Champion. Reluctant anatomy teacher.”