A Story by Callipygian
Part One is here.
Waller was a rather more robust town than Sparksville. Main Street had active businesses on it and the lawns were neat. Right across from the town hall was a high school and library. This was where all the action was, Avery decided. Rousting up an angle and hustling the inhabitants here would not be easy, if possible. “I guess I chose the right town,” she said, thinking of Sparksville.
Getting a town hall for Sparksville would be easy, but pointless just for now. Getting a high school was a long way down the road, but a library might just work early doors. Also, if her hunch was right, it would enable her to kill two birds with one stone.
Avery picked a white painted bench outside the town hall and decided to set awhile.
A group of teenagers lingered by the library steps, their laughter punctuating the quiet air as they traded headphones and joked about a chemistry test. Across the street, a woman in a crisp linen suit walked with a brisk, purposeful stride toward the town hall, her high heels perhaps more suited to the big city, where no doubt she had aspirations of moving to.
Avery watched a golden retriever trot confidently across the street to greet a regular at the hardware store, she wondered if Waller had any kind of gravitational pull for outsiders or just coasted on its inherent population. It was a tidy place, polished to a soft sheen of middle class comfort. The architecture was a mix of preserved colonial facades and modern glass storefronts that sold things like artisanal soaps and high-end stationery, the kind of town where the most pressing crisis was likely a dispute over the height of a neighbour’s hedge.
She watched a young man in a vintage oversized tracksuit and chunky sneakers glide past on a skateboard, the rhythmic clackety-clack of the wheels against the pavement an affront to harmony.
There was a seamlessness to the way people moved here, a collective agreement on the pace of life that felt almost choreographed. It wasn’t the frantic energy of the city she’d left behind; it was a slow, deliberate hum. It was a town that was comfortable with itself. It was a safe town unlikely to change; too boring for Avery.
Avery stood up and crossed the street to the library, her reason for being here.
The library was a sturdy, red-brick building that looked as though it had been designed to withstand a century of quiet contemplation. As Avery pushed open the heavy oak doors, the sudden shift in acoustics hit her, a dampened, hushed world where the only audible sound was the distant, rhythmic thumping of a date stamp. It smelled of old paper and floor wax, a scent that usually signalled stagnation, but here it felt like a well-maintained museum of local curiosity.
She lingered by the return slot for a moment, watching the librarian, a woman who looked like she had been carved from a piece of driftwood, meticulously reorganize a display of local history pamphlets. The woman didn’t look up, but her presence anchored the room, a silent guardian of the town’s collective memory. Not the woman she was looking for she decided, but she made a silent note of her name: Milicent Cambridge.
Avery wandered deeper into the stacks, her eyes scanning the spines. She wasn’t looking for a novel; she was looking for the town’s pulse. She found herself in the genealogy section, where the air felt thicker, heavy with the weight of ancestral pride. Here, the records were meticulously kept, detailing the lineages of the founding families, the ones who likely owned the artisanal soap shops and the colonial facades. It was a closed loop of heritage and property, a social architecture that was far more rigid than the physical buildings outside.
This town was closed to outsiders, people like her, especially people like her. Avery smiled and oozed blackness with pride. Better yet, she thought, ultimately it was closed to Nancy Grainger, Beth’s little sister and Mercy’s aunt. The woman, for all her ambitions to be a librarian, was only ever going to be a passenger in a town like this.
Avery strolled around taking in the monument to learning, noting the direction of travel of the little town’s interests. Then she saw her. Avery’s heart actually skipped a beat. It had to be Nancy, it could be no other.
“Oh my God,” she mouthed. Nancy was elegance on legs and what legs? Blonde and curved in all the right places like the winner of a Miss perfect competition. If there was such a thing and if there wasn’t they should start one just for her. She was a little over 30, with a serious expression that seemed to dare the world to come to speak to her.
As Avery watched as the woman turned and half bent over the trolley with reference books to return. Her pencil skirt clung to her curves like a glove and her bottom was about as fine as Avery had ever seen. It was a bottom that once properly bared she could spank for the rest of her life.
Avery wasn’t usually so easily aroused but today was an exception. Her mouth was dry and something perked up in her panties. Tonight either Daly was going to go down on her until dawn or Avery was going to fly solo with obsessive enthusiasm as she played this moment over and over.
Avery took a deep breath and got back into character. This was business, but it was also going to be fun. Another deep breath and she made her move. She closed the distance between them with a slow, predatory grace, stopping just inside the perimeter of Nancy’s personal space.
Up close, the woman was even more striking and there was a faint scent of vanilla and something exciting she could not place.
“Excuse me, do you know where the archives are kept?” she asked, daring to address the goddess. Avery’s voice was a smooth, practiced silk, the kind of tone that opened doors in boardrooms and gated communities alike.
Nancy sneered with her eyes and looked at Avery as if answering was much too much trouble. “Please,” Nancy said, “As if you care about archives.”
“Oh, then what do I care about?” the smile just about reached Avery’s eyes but did not fully commit.
Nancy rolled her strikingly blue eyes and gave out with a very heavy sigh. “I get hit on about thrice a day… even by girls,” she shrugged, “I mean high school girls contemplating a closet exit I kind of get… the boys stares never get above my chest… but what chance do you think you have?”
Avery loved a challenge but there was more to overcome here she suspected. Her appraising gaze flicked up and down as she considered her next move. “I am so obvious,” she grinned.
Nancy suddenly looked slightly less confident. Maybe she had expected excuses or denials.
“So you’re not interested, hmmm,” Avery adopted a position of faux disappointment, “What, you don’t like girls or is it because I’m black?”
In that very moment Nancy actually didn’t know.
“You must be Nancy Grainger,” Avery changed tack, “I know Mercy and your sister… well slightly.” She proffered her hand. “I’m Avery Hamilton; actually I have a business proposition for you… well more of a job offer.”
Nancy opened her mouth for the come back and then realised that this woman was for real. “Oh, I’m so sorry… I just assumed… God I must seem so arrogant… but you have no idea how many… and you look… well I thought…”
Avery smiled, having successfully deflected the girl and put her on the back foot. “I can see why you would be a popular girl,” she said.
Nancy didn’t know how to respond and fell back on an embarrassed smile.
“Tell me do you like being a librarian?”
“Eh…” Nancy was again surprised by another turn in the conversation, “Yes, yes I do,” she frowned and asked very pointedly, “why?”
“Do you like this job here?” Avery pressed her.
Nancy was slower to answer and wondered where this was going. Something about a job the woman said. That didn’t make sense.
“Tell me about Milicent Cambridge, is she your boss?” Avery threw out another question.
“Yes sort of,” Nancy drawled, “well she is the senior librarian.”
“And she has been here forever and will be here for another couple of decades at least,” Avery called it. “I suppose she gets to choose all the books, all the events and gets the bigger salary.”
Nancy folded her arms defensively and said, “What is this all about?”
“I want you to be my new head librarian,” Avery said, “Help me build a library from the floor up… well hopefully not literally, but that can be arranged too.”
Nancy opened her mouth to ask one of ten dozen questions and couldn’t decide what to ask first.
“Let me buy you lunch,” Avery said, “You might as well hear my offer in full. You might like it… oh,” she adopted a look of reluctant horror, “Unless you think lunch is a bit forward of me… like maybe I am hitting on you?”
Nancy blushed, “About that I…”
“Good so I will see you at lunch, that place up from the town hall… it looked okay…?” Avery started to leave.
“Harvey’s? I suppose, yes… I get off at 12.30,” Nancy agreed.
***
Harvey’s was the kind of establishment that treated a sandwich like a curated exhibit. The interior was all reclaimed oak and soft, cream-colored linens, with a few potted ferns fighting for space between the tables. It was precisely the kind of place where people came to be seen while pretending to read the specials. Avery had already claimed a booth in the back corner, strategically positioned so she could watch the door without looking like she was staking out a perimeter.
When Nancy arrived at 12:35, she walked in like she owned the place. She displayed the kind of misplaced confidence worn as a shield in an uncertain situation or perhaps just because she was late and was embarrassed.
Still she looked like no woman Avery had seen in a long time and she felt the unfamiliar butterflies of attraction and realised that she was as in control as she usually was. Her heart even did a little skip when Nancy saw her and actually smiled. A real smile, the first Avery had noticed on the woman’s face. For a fleeting second Avery felt like a teenager.
“So good of you to join me,” Avery stood and gestured to the table.
There was an awkward silence as Nancy perused the menu. “What are you having?” she asked.
“The roasted turkey club, if the reviews are as honest as the pricing,” Avery replied, her voice regaining its smooth, authoritative edge. She leaned back, watching Nancy’s eyes flicker from the menu to her. The tension between them had shifted from a confrontational spark to something more like a low-voltage current, steady and humming.
Nancy let out a small, genuine laugh, the sound far less brittle than her previous sneers. “The turkey is fine, but the caprese panini is the only thing here that doesn’t taste like they made it yesterday.
“Oh,” Avery said knowingly, “In that case I think I will join you.”
They made small talk while they waited for the order and Avery found she was just enjoying the woman’s company. She also did want to be seen to be trying too hard. Nancy had to be curious.
When it came the panini’s looked fine.
“So what is this all about and…?” Nancy took a delicate bite, and then realised her mistake as she had to chew. She put one finger up to signal a pause and tried not to laugh.
Avery found it absolutely endearing and grinned back with genuine warmth.
“Excuse me,” Nancy spoke with her mouth full, “How do you know Mercy?”
“Oh that’s two questions,” Avery said and then took a bite. She nodded in approval.
“Oh is there a limit to my questions?” Nancy smiled.
“Not at all,” Avery put the sandwich down and sat back. “I know Mercy because she tried to rob me… oh it is alright we sorted it out and she agreed to retire.”
“Oh,” Nancy looked embarrassed.
“You don’t seem surprised,” Avery said.
Nancy shook her head, “Beth is too soft with her and well… there aren’t that many opportunities in Sparkville; not that that is an excuse.”
“That brings me to you,” Avery said and took up the sandwich for another bite.
“Oh?” Nancy seemed curious and took another bite of her Panini, “You said something about a new library… I don’t see…”
“I am in investing in Sparkville… I already bought the diner and the motel… I have an arrangement with Christine Templeton you see…” Avery let that sink in.
Nancy wasn’t jumping and just looked hard at Avery with a furrowed brow. It was not entirely clear what this had to do with her.
“I am going to open a library in Sparkville, the first of half a dozen amenities, I want you to run it for me,” Avery told her.
Nancy laughed and dabbed her mouth to wipe away the last of the panini from her lips. “In Sparksville?”
“I will pay for the refurbishment or build one from scratch if necessary… I have an endowment of say… five years running costs, plus a budget for books and such like… and I will pay you twenty-five percent more than Millicent Cambridge gets,” Avery explained.
“A modern library needs tech… you know computers and such, a lecture hall and some multi-media rooms… I really don’t think Sparksville can support that kind…” Nancy countered.
“Done, all of that,” Avery said, “What do you say?”
Nancy pouted, this all sounded too good to be true, which meant… “I will think about it,” she said.
***
Avery decided to call on Christine. She had been winging it about the library and now she needed some official support, not mention, a library. Besides, after her stimulating encounter with Nancy she could use a bit of mature action as an alternative to Daly.
The car pulled up outside Christine’s house and she could see at once that Martha had been busy.
The erstwhile mayor was standing on her porch in a clean and ironed blouse and very little else. Her hands were on her head and her very exposed and very bare bottom was very, very sore.
“Someone got a spanking,” Avery chuckled.
“You again,” Christine groaned, “Haven’t you done enough to me?”
“So you and Aunt Martha have been getting along like a house on fire I see,” the businesswoman grinned. She hadn’t been too sure how the mayor would take to an improvised governess, least of all Martha. It had been fifty-fifty at best that once Avery left them alone Christine would knuckle under. Something in the arrangement must have been attractive or at least recognised as needful.
“More like a bottom on fire,” Christine said ruefully, “Have you come to spank me too.”
Avery stepped onto the porch and cast an appreciative eye on the 40-something mayor and her quite splendid if tarnished figure. “What did you do exactly?”
“I found a packet of Marlborough I had missed… couldn’t resist,” Christine sighed. “Got spanked for a crafty smoke and set out here because I missed the packet in the first place and dear old Martha thinks I might have done it on purpose.”
Avery walked up and down for a closer look and let a finger trace the mottled red skin on show. “How are you and Martha getting on now that you are reacquainted?”
Christine half turned and looked over her shoulder. “She can see me from over there… so can anyone else I guess…” The mayor blushed.
“I guessed that, but not what I asked,” her sponsor said.
“No Ma’am, but it is embarrassing,” Christine said. “You made me look at myself and I didn’t like what I saw. Martha sees me how I used to be, how I could be… like you I suppose,” her tone was drenched in rue, “Well it is one way to give up smoking… and I am not missing the booze too much…”
“You have a stash,” Avery said.
“Yah, I guess that is obvious to everyone but Martha, but only half a bottle… I have been real good with it… I figure I am just about to go cold turkey… you gonna tell on me?”
“I need you high functioning, not necessarily sober,” Avery shrugged. “We need to talk.”
“Can’t it wait, I mean, I am kind of busy here…?”
“I can see that, but it isn’t just business I want to discuss,” Avery felt it hard where she shouldn’t and the sight of Christine’s ass was sending crazy.
“So you figure I will just put out whenever you come around?” the older woman tried to sound bitter.
“Pretty much,” Avery shrugged.
Martha came out of her house and was standing in the lane watching. “You need the mayor for something?” she called over.
“We do have some business to discuss,” Avery replied.
Martha appeared to consider something and looked around. “I guess she learned her lesson for now, you gonna spank her?”
Christine squirmed, “Yell a bit louder why don’t you?” she muttered under her breath.
“Almost certainly,” Avery laughed.
“Then I will leave her in your charge,” Martha said and turned around and went back into her house.
The mayor didn’t move, she was learning better than to before she had been told.
“You had any embarrassing visitors since this arrangement began?” Avery really hoped the woman had.
Christine blushed and mumbled something.
“Who else knows?” Avery was enjoying this.
“Well it ain’t common knowledge,” Christine sighed, “Not yet. But old Tom Dickinson was passing the other day… he saw me out here and made a comment… he seemed to think I was still in school… so I figure he might not be firing on all cylinders and has forgotten by now.” She turned her head again and adopted a pained expression, “Can you please tell Martha to go a little easy on the public humiliation, I am supposed to be mayor after all… I can’t help you if word gets out that I get my bare bottom spanked like a teenager.”
Avery chuckled, but the mayor had a point. “I will consider that thang, now go inside and find a corner while I look for a hairbrush.”
“Oh… can’t you… can’t we just…?” Christine groaned.
“I am afraid that bottom is just too round and inviting for me to pass up on giving you a long hard bare bottom spanking,” Avery feigned reluctance, “Besides, someone has to do it.”
Christine was mortified, a little scared and very glad to get reacquainted with Avery. She stopped and stole a kiss from the younger woman. “Use and abuse me, I know you are going to… maybe I like it… but you are not just going to chew this town up and spit it out are you?”
“If I was, I would lie wouldn’t I? And if I say I am not you can’t believe me,” Avery followed the mayor in a she went to the corner and stopped stock still. “You cleaned up… a lot. I am impressed.”
The place was immaculate, everything in its place and a ton of shit clearly thrown away. Even the drapes had been washed and left hanging evenly.
“Yah, one of the reasons I am rolling with your agenda I guess,” Christine was embarrassed. “Martha had me scrubbing the floor with a toothbrush.”
Avery found a hairbrush to hand on the coffee table, clearly an item in regular use now. She sat on the couch and watched the older woman find an easy position with her bare bottom projected into the room.
“I am sorry for all the things I said before, and I mean that,” the mayor offered with another half turn of her head.
“I appreciate that, but you are still getting another spanking,” Avery told her.
The mayor sighed and asked wearily, “What do you want anyway?”
“I want a library,” Avery told her.
“A what? I mean… I know what a library is but how is that going to help anything?” Christine almost turned right around.
“The town needs some capital assets and it needs some more amenities,” Avery told her, “Maybe there is a building that can be converted or a plot near Main Street that can be built on?”
Christine let her face rest on the seam of the corner and felt the coolness against her skin in contrast to the heat in her bottom. “Well there is always the library,” she said with a hint of sarcasm. “Been closed 20 years and needs some renovation… there are three vacant lots adjacent for parking and if you want to expand.”
“Thank you Christine, you’re a genius,” Avery was content now that everything was going her way. “Now honey child, please get across my knee.”
Christine sighed dejectedly and stepped back from the corner. “Did I do anything, real bad I mean?”
“No more than usual, this is just to remind you who is boss,” Avery told her.
“And just who made you boss again?” Christine challenged, it was a half-heated stand and she knew it.
Avery made an expansive expression and said, “Do you really want to have that conversation again?”
“No Ma’am,” the mayor said quickly and hauled her ass to where Avery could get at it.
The age gap was almost generational and clambering over Avery’s knee was mortifying. And she kind of loved it. As she steeled in her left arm steadied reached to steady and her right arm got gripped by Avery’s left and pinned into her back. Martha used the technique.
“How does it feel being a grown woman of what… 40…44?” Avery leaned in and whispered, “Being across my knee like a teenaged brat about to get a very sound bare bottom spanking?”
Christine squirmed and her breathing became irregular. “This is so embarrassing,” she said breathily.
“I bet the cracker in you doubly hates it because I am a person of colour,” Avery reminded her.
“Hey, I can’t help my upbringing and I already said sorry about that,” Christine pouted, “I have nothing against you p… I mean, well you know what I mean. Can’t we agree that I am no more than moderate red-neck?”
Avery tapped the rather splendid proffered bare bottom with the flat of the hairbrush. An action that drew her some attention and became increasingly menacing. “We can agree that you are about to have an extremely red bottom,” she quipped.
The mayor squirmed and hated that she was not only wet, but that it was so obvious. It didn’t mean she was enjoying this. It didn’t mean that…
The brush slammed down and Christine gasped. “Ow,” she yelped.
“Say you’re sorry,” Avery spanked her hard and enjoyed the developing red patch.
Christine groaned and bucked her bottom up and down. “For what exactly?” she retorted angrily.
“Say you’re sorry,” Avery spanked her again.
Christine shook her bottom back and forth and made a growling noise. “Tell me what for?” she insisted.
“I want you to say: ‘I am a repentant washed-up former cracker who wants to reform. I apologise for my shortcomings and beg earnestly for you to spank my bare bottom to make me a better person,’” Avery grinned like a crocodile.
“Look I’m sorry for my former attitude; I know what the deal is…” Christine groaned.
Avery spanked her hard and then repeated the strike. Before Christine could answer again the brush rose and fell several more times and then once again with feeling.
The humbled mayor began twisting and yelling under the rain of spanks. The repeated assault that did not ease off until her generous and rather tight bare bottom was a marvellous red of an order that got Avery’s juices flowing and the soundly spanked mayor could be justly proud.
Avery paused and leaned in with a real edge to her voice. “Listen very carefully. I need you to say: ‘I am a repentant washed-up former cracker who wants to reform. I apologise for my shortcomings and beg earnestly for you to spank my bare bottom to make me a better person.’”
Christine was breathing steadily and all manner of thoughts raced through her mind. She had been dead and now she was alive and this strange woman was her salvation. But she had some pride, didn’t she?
“Please Avery Ma’am,” the mayor begged, “Can’t we just…”
Avery began spanking with rigour and didn’t stop. The woman’s bottom was made for this and it was time to fully indulge her inner sadist.
“Alright, alright,” Christine wailed and came close to bawling like a kid.
“I wonder if Martha has some friends she could invite over. You could stand in the corner while chewed the fat and talked about the good old days. Then maybe you could go cut some switches and they could all take turns,” Avery suggested.
Christine nodded and in very damp tones she managed, “I am a repentant washed-up former cracker who wants to reform. I apologise for my shortcomings and beg earnestly for you to spank my bare bottom to make me a better person.” She actually felt better, if she could but admit it and she knew that it was actually very true.
“There you go, now we can begin your spanking,” Avery grinned and the spanking resumed, this time with no hesitation or holding back.
As previously the spanking did not even pause until well after the mayor became a sobbing mess.
***
The corner had been a relief and it had taken almost 30 minutes for Christine to pull herself together. Now she was on her knees on the floor behind a half-naked Avery introducing her lingus to the black woman’s anal canal.
After strict orders she neither neglected Avery’s womanish bud nor anything between. In fact she was rather thorough and vigorous about both ends of the perineum.
The younger woman appreciated the efforts but in her mind it was Nancy doing the honours. The librarian had to be spanked and so badly, something has started a fire and big plans were going to get adjusted, if not changed altogether.
“That’s it keep going,” Avery screamed.
Eventually the mayor collapsed onto Avery’s back and the younger woman wriggled around and took Christine in her arms.
“You must really want that library,” the older woman said breathlessly.
“That is not going to be a problem is it?” Avery stroked Christine’s hair.
“Oh no Ma’am,” the mayor sighed.
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