Spanked in Church

The names, characters, places and events in this story are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. All characters are over the age of 18. Any similarities to real persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

Thanks for reading and I hope you like this tale. Please do leave a comment as I read all of them and take them all onboard.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Once again, apologies for the delay in writing this final chapter. At last I've completed this tale which became longer than I'd originally intended. The whole story is about 67,500 words - longer than some short novels. As before, it isn't easy to write with a demanding cat sitting on your lap! But I am so glad I have her. Anyway, here is the final chapter of 'Spanked in Church' and we come to the end of Laura and Leandro's tale but I shall upload some one-off stories soon. Take care out there.

Spanked in Church Ch. 16.

Laura Schulten leaned over the toilet and retched. She threw up until her stomach was completely empty and then dry heaved until it hurt. Eventually, she got control over herself and pulled herself upright using the basin for support. She glanced in the mirror and didn't like what she saw: a used-up, haggard tired-eyed woman who looked a lot older than her twenty-six years. She groaned and poured herself a glass of tap water. A second glass made her feel marginally better. But she felt dirty, soiled after what she had gotten up to at that orgy at Deacon Stearns's house. She was an ATF agent, not some streetwalking hooker, but she had behaved like a total slut instead of a Mid-West farmer's daughter. She groaned. She felt so bad, so sick at heart as well as so befouled by what she had done last night. Had she really let some random strangers fuck her pussy? Before fucking Leandro right in public? Shuddering with distaste, she turned the shower to as hot as she could stand it and stepped right into the nearly scalding spray. She reached for the gel and scrubbed her body as hard as she could take it, scrubbing, scrubbing, scrubbing all the filth away and watching it sluice down the plughole leaving her body pink as a lobster. But that wasn't enough for Laura. She knew it was psychological but she was angry at her pussy that had been well pounded by several rock-hard cocks last night and made her feel like a tramp and a whore. She took the bottle of feminine cleansing gel and squirted a generous dollop into her palm. For a moment the gel reminded her of a man's sticky cum and she shivered with disgust but then she spread her legs and started rubbing it all over her sex trying to cleanse it and make it pure and wholesome again. The sensation gave her a secret frisson of sex and she squirted another glob of gel into her hand. Spreading her legs even wider she slipped a finger in between the delicate folds of her labia and rubbed cleansing gel in between those sensitive folds rubbing it into her vagina, over her pee-hole and further up. Her fingertip nudged her clitoris and she felt that highly erogenous bud stiffen and throb beneath her touch.

"I really am just some whore," Laura muttered beneath the cascade of hot water. But her fingernails carried on stimulating that little button until it poked out from beneath her folds and felt hot water pouring over it.

"I..., oh, oh, oh," Laura sobbed as her fingers did their work and she felt her anguish and pleasure heighten to new pinnacles of ecstasy. She thought not about the men she had wantonly fucked last night at the gang-bang but of her ATF partner, John Leandro, who had finally taken her good and hard on the secluded recliner at the end of the festivities. Her fingers gave one last twitch on her swollen pink clitty and Laura threw her arm over her mouth to muffle her cry of sheer exultation at her climax.

She detached the shower head and directed the hot water at her privates, rinsing away her womanly juices and leaving her clean and temporarily satisfied. Laura stepped out of the shower and turned it off. She toweled herself dry then shrugged into a bathrobe. Using a sleeve she wiped steam from the mirror and looked at herself to see if any evidence of her sluttish nature showed.

She saw a regular corn-fed Mid-West girl who'd been raised in a small town in the North Star State. She was, if not chubby, then pleasantly rounded with full breasts a soft stomach above wide, childbearing hips. Looking up beneath auburn hair cut into bangs she had clear gray eyes and full, kissable lips.

"Not bad," she thought. "Not Miss World but not too bad."

Laura left the bathroom and was making her way back to her room when she saw light leaking around the edges of Leandro's door. She hesitated a moment.

"Laura? You alright?" she heard her partner call.

She pushed open the door and stepped into his room. John Leandro sat up in bed, leaning back against the pillows and looked at her. She saw a man with dark brown eyes and hair and a deep tan; a legacy of his Italian heritage. Although only of average height, he was broad shouldered and strong. His shirt was off and she saw his tattoo of a Roman eagle, another reminder of Italy.

Laura padded across the rug and sat down by him.

"We need to talk, this can't go on much longer," Laura said quietly.

"I know. Things went too far last night," replied Leandro. "But I'm not at the store today so I'm heading over to that dead letter drop at Vaughns Chapel Cemetery where I'll drop off the microfilm I snapped last night. Once Vasilakis and the other high ups see that, I'm hoping that's the last bit of evidence they'll need to shut down Stearns's operation here."

He paused, gathering his thoughts.

"Then I guess we'll go our separate ways. Me to the border for some action and you to the ATF's HQ. I'll miss you Laura."

Laura lowered herself down and snuggled up against his firm chest. "That's what I want to talk to you about. I've been thinking and I'd like to come to the border with you."

Leandro raised his eyebrows.

Laura blushed a deep red. "I've realized that I need a man in my life who understands me. One who will help me and guide me through life but also won't be afraid to put me in my place and punish me if I need to be corrected."

Leandro's brown eyes met her gray ones.

"I love you, John, and I want you to be the man who will take charge and protect me."

Leandro smiled. "I love you, too, Laura."

Their lips met and they kissed passionately, their tongues meshing together even as their souls entwined. She tasted his masculine strength and courage; he tasted her feminine love and support. They broke apart and Leandro took her warm, pliant body in his muscular arms.

Laura looked up into his eyes. "Yesterday, I went too far," she murmured. "I let myself down and was out of control. I think you should spank me."

"Are you sure?" he asked. "I think something may have been slipped into your drink as that punch tasted awful."

"Yes. I feel terrible, like a whore, and I need you to punish me so I can put it behind me and get back to normal again."

"Okay. Take off your robe and lay over my lap," he commanded.

Laura untied the belt and slipped her bathrobe off of her shoulders. Now she was naked before her partner. She obediently lay over his lap and raised her ass in the air and waited with mixed anxiety and expectation for her spanking.

Leandro was pleased. All that fuss she had made about being spanked months ago when they had first started this mission and now here she was begging to be spanked. He raised his hand and gently swatted her rump. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. He paused and admired how her rounded bottom quivered under his attentions. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack.

Laura wriggled around and looked up at him. "No, I need you to spank me hard as I was so out of control last night. I've been a bad girl; punish me properly, not these silly love taps," she insisted.

"You sure," queried Leandro.

"Get on with it, give me a proper spanking."

Leandro put his arm around her waist, holding her in place. He raised his arm high in the air. SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! Laura cried out with shock and hurt as pain filled her brain driving out all the negative thoughts from yesterday. SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! More blows landed on both buttocks; left, right, left, right. Her beautifully rounded derrière reddened delightfully. SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! The spanking continued mercilessly and her legs started kicking away as she struggled to free herself but she was held firmly in his grasp.

He paused in his spanking as he admired her upturned bottom. He slipped his fingers in between the cleft then spread them wide looking at her now exposed anus. He took in its delightfully puckered texture and the way she clenched it tight against his scrutiny.

"Relax," he told her and with a sigh she loosened up. Leandro licked his fingertip and gently but firmly pushed it past her tight sphincter and up into her rectum. Laura squirmed at the intrusion but knew better than to protest. He pushed his finger in all the way and Laura lay there letting feelings of humiliation and submission fill her mind as he thoroughly inspected her most private hole. She tried to remain still without squirming while remembering the time he had pushed suppositories up her bowels.

Eventually he withdrew his finger, allowed her butt cheeks to close and then her spanking resumed. SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! Laura started crying as more hard blows landed but she had to endure the painful humiliation as she was spanked remorselessly. SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! The sharp sound of the smacks echoed around the bedroom. Tears now flowed down her cheeks and her sobs mixed with the sound of the spanking.

When he felt she had been punished enough, Leandro gave her a few final extra hard swats. Laura yelped and reached behind her to give her throbbing, painful bottom a rub.

"Was that hard enough for you. Learned your lesson now?"

"Yes, thank you," squealed Laura.

Now it was over, Leandro realized something. He was rock hard. He thought after last night that it would take a few days at least before he recovered enough to feel like sex again but his cock felt like it was made of titanium. But what made things better was that he had a naked woman bent obediently over his lap. He pushed her off his lap and levered himself up from the bed. He pointed to the mattress.

"Bend over, ass in the air," he ordered her.

Laura looked over her shoulder but what she saw in Leandro's face convinced her that she had no choice other than to submit to his bidding. She got herself into position and slowly raised her tenderized bottom up to the cool air.

"Knees apart..., wider," he told the defenseless woman. She did as she was ordered, so aware that he could see her scarlet ass and her genitals. But although he had seen them many times before, she still felt embarrassed by exposing herself like this.

Leandro shuffled around on his knees until he was right behind her. He reached into the nightstand drawer, took out a rubber and unrolled it out over his thick, rigid cock. He gripped Laura's hips tightly then rammed his way into her silky smooth, warm wet welcoming pussy. Laura gasped and moaned as he breached her defenses and pushed his way deep inside.

"Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes," she panted as he thrust deeper and deeper, harder and harder into the depths of her being. Behind her, Leandro was grunting with lust and pleasure as his cock drove all the way inside her tightly snug embrace. Her vagina embraced his girth and warm feelings flooded Laura's body.

Harder, faster, harder faster; his powerful masculine cock took her all the way and all too soon they both exploded in sheer connected joy as they reached an earth-shattering climax as his seed flooded out into the condom and Laura's vagina squirted out her own natural love-juices over the base of his cock. They collapsed onto the rumpled sheets together and held each other tightly snuggling together and relishing each others body heat. They lay together, calm and tranquil after their passionate lovemaking. Eventually Laura broke free and slipped down his lean, muscular body until she reached his now limp cock. She opened her mouth and swallowed it, licking and sucking his shaft like a Popsicle. She closed her eyes dreamily as she savored his salty taste and growing thickness.

They lay in bed enjoying each others closeness and warmth as the sun's rays moved around the room until, finally they had to get up and grab a shower and a bite to eat.

"You're not working at the store today?" Laura queried.

"Nope, I swapped shifts to take the day off after that orgy last night. I need to take the microfilm to the dead letter drop over at Vaughn's Chapel Cemetery. You coming?"

"May as well," she said. They drove north-east along quiet roads where they could be sure they weren't followed to the cemetery where a pre-arranged drop had been hollowed out beneath an old gravestone. The little graveyard had rows of neat stones next to an avenue of trees all drowsing beneath the afternoon's orange sunshine. It was a peaceful spot, so removed from the chaotic lusts of Deacon Stearns's mass orgy of the previous night. Leandro placed a tin wrapped in a plastic bag in the hole and kicked grass and leaves over it.

"We'll just have to wait," Laura said, "And see what happens next." Now she was away from Stearns and his odd sect she wanted this mission to end but she also wanted a strong man in her life who would be prepared to keep her on the straight and narrow.

They drove back to their little Craftsman-style home on Boyd Avenue and let themselves in to await further instructions. That evening, and not for the first time, Laura had to sit completely naked next to her partner while he supped a beer with one hand and caressed her C-cup breast with the other, gently rolling and playing with her pink, peaky nipple, teasing it mercilessly while she squirmed with pleasure at his touch.

Several evenings later, after work, Laura and Leandro were in a diner just off E. State Street in the small town of Georgetown. The only point of note was that President Ulysses S Grant went to school in that burg. Neither was particularly interested. They sat in one of the booths with a pot roast and watched the other customers eat or drink at the bar. In the far room was the gentle clack of pool balls.

A man, almost gaunt in appearance and wearing a green flannel shirt slipped into the booth behind Leandro. Once the waitress had been and gone with his coffee, he leaned backwards over the red vinyl rest dividing them.

"Wheat prices up two per cent," he said quietly. He had a Chicago accent which did not fit in with their country surroundings.

Leandro blinked in astonishment. "And millet's up three per cent," he responded.

He turned away from the man. The code word and countersign had been given. Although they'd never met before, this guy was another ATF agent. The man spoke softly although there was nobody nearby to overhear.

"Those documents you photographed were all the proof we needed. Meet at the bowling alley on 125 midnight tonight. There's a big shipment of firearms coming in. We're bringing SWAT teams and this bust will net us a lot of bad guys. Vasilakis is very pleased."

With that, the man finished his cup, left a couple of bucks on the table and headed out into the night. There was a flash of headlights and then he was gone.

"Well, so that's that then. Looks like it's coming to an end," said Laura.

Leandro nodded. "Yes. It's been... interesting. And you've been very brave." The couple looked into each other's eyes and smiled. They kissed and so neither saw Prezlea-Lynn pull into the lot in her old junker.

Prezlea-Lynn put her car in Park. Next to her on the bench seat sat Hal, a young man who tended a herd of pigs at a farm in Adams County. They had met at Deacon Stearns's orgy and once it was over and they were getting dressed he had asked with a nervous stammer if he could see her again sometime. Somewhere just the two of them. Blushingly, she had agreed. Hal was a muscular young man.

Hal was about to step out of the car when the man left the diner. For an instant the man was illuminated by the light over the door. Hal frowned.

"Hey, I think I know that dude," he said with a puzzled voice. "He's with the Feds. Busted up my cousin's whiskey stills up by Lancaster." He grinned. "Not that I was a bootlegger or anything!"

"He was talking to my boss and his wife, I saw them through the window," Prezlea-Lynn mused.

"Then they're either in big trouble or working for the Feds. C'mon, let's grab a bite to eat," said Hal.

This bothered Prezlea-Lynn. On the way home she dropped a dime to Deacon Stearns as she didn't want Stearns sending that evil old psycho Ehud Roemer after her. She still shuddered at the memory of what he'd done to her in the back of his panel van. He was one man who terrified her.

The deep darkness of rural southern Ohio rolled around and Leandro and Laura left their little Craftsman-style cottage sited on their pleasant suburban street off Boyd Avenue in the small town of West Union. They left with some regret as it had been a comfortable home during their undercover work. Darkness rolled over them once they left the street lights behind and it felt like they were the only people left alive as they drove along deserted country roads. The farmhouses were all in darkness and apart from the glimmer of starlight and their dashboard lights they were completely alone. The world could have ended and they would have carried on through the Stygian gloom.

They drove to the rendezvous behind the bowling alley out on 125 and were surprised by the force assembled. Checking their equipment and weapons by two black Humvees was a squad of SWAT from Cincinnati. They were covered in pouches and with their full helmets looked like futuristic storm troopers to Laura's eye. There were some squad cars belonging to the Ohio State Highway Patrol. In a separate huddle were some members of the ATF. George Vasilakis spotted them and wheeled himself over. He wore a quilted jacket and cap against the night's chill. "Laura. John. Good to see you." They shook hands. "Pick yourself some Kevlar vests..." He saw Laura's look of alarm. "Don't worry, the SWAT teams will be doing the dangerous stuff, the staties to secure the evidence while we direct them. This is just for safety.

They shrugged on their bullet-proof jackets and adjusted their straps until they were snug. Not for the first time, they checked their Smith and Wessons and waited nervously for the start. Coming in from the north they heard the distant beat of rotors. The SWAT commander put down his radio.

"The handover's being made. Let's rock and roll! Let's put an end to these bandits," he called out over the blacktop. His men cheered enthusiastically and punched the air. They piled into their vans and headed down the road to Deacon Stearns's farmhouse closely followed by the others. A Highway Patrol car peeled off to secure the empty church buildings.

***

In his office, Deacon Jedediah Stearns put the phone down and frowned. His Sexton, Ehud Roemer, looked up from cleaning his nails with a K-Bar knife. Ehud Roemer was one of the very few men that Stearns was scared of. And with good reason as he knew Roemer had doomed several men and women during the course of his criminal career and wouldn't hesitate to kill him if he was instructed to. Roemer was in his early sixties but hard as teak with a haggard face and deep set eyes that showed no emotion.

"That was young Prezlea-Lynn. The girl you persuaded to keep an eye on that new guy, John Leandro, and his wife."