Overdue

This was featured over at A Spanking Good Time in Tiggr's Fantasy Friday contest. I am thrilled and honored that Tiggr included this story.

My husband and I had moved to the neighborhood about 6 months ago and I joined the local tennis club. I discovered that the woman who lived across the street from us also played, and we became fast friends. I didn’t really know anyone in the area, so I easily slid into her circle of friends and joined in on lunches, trips to the mall and most recently, girls’ poker night.

We each took turns hosting poker night and they were a lot of fun. Wine flowed freely and conversation took on a “less polite and proper” tone. One night recently when we were all talking about our days, one of the girls mentioned having taken her car in for service. There was a collective sharp inhalation of breath that followed and I think someone kicked someone under the table. Furtive glances flew around the table.

I tried to keep a straight face and pretend I hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary.

A few days later, my neighbor stopped in on her way to run errands. “Look, I know you noticed the awkwardness at the poker table the other night. I’ve talked with the girls and we’ve decided that we want to share something with you.”

I listened with curiosity wondering what could possibly be secretive about an oil change.

“We all go to the same place for our car maintenance. It’s a bit unusual because it’s a place for women only and it’s based on referrals only. We’ve given them your name and a referral so you can take your car in when you need to. They work by appointment, so call first.”

She handed me a slip of paper with a name, address and phone number. I looked at it and didn’t know whether to be amused or baffled. I’d never made an appointment for an oil change before.

Of course my car was overdue for servicing. The move had been stressful and the car fell low on the priority list for me. I took this as a sign that I needed to get this off my To Do list, so I called to schedule an appointment. The woman who answered asked for my name and for the name of the person who referred me. Then she put me on hold. When she came back to the line, she confirmed a time and told me about their packages.

“We have two packages you can choose from. One is a 6-month package which would include your initial visit and two subsequent visits. The other is a 12-month package. We can give you pricing information when you come in.”

I wrote down the time and date and wondered if I was signing up for a gym membership or getting my car serviced.

When the time finally arrived, I left tennis practice and drove to the address I’d been given. I pulled into a warehouse looking building with several bays toward one end. There was no sign for the business – only their street number painted on the building by the door. I pulled in front of one of the bays and turned the motor off. As I got out of the car, the bay door began to rise and a dreamy-looking muscular guy walked out. He called me by name and took my keys from me. He nodded toward the door and told me to they were expecting me.

“Well, duh!” I thought. “You made me make an appointment!”

I walked into the building and was greeted by the same woman I’d talked to on the phone. She, too, greeted me by name and led me to a table where we both sat down.

“We’re a multi-service facility here and we know your time is valuable. Our aim is to help women not only keep their vehicles safe, but to offer other services as needed while your car is being serviced. We help you become more efficient and organized. We help you keep your priorities. We never want to see you stranded on the side of the road with your hood open.”

She smiled at me and I felt like I still wasn’t getting it. As I was about to ask her what she meant by “other services,” the door opened and dreamy-looking muscular guy came in looking a little disgusted. He held the plastic clingy thing he’d removed from my windshield and waved it around.

“927 miles overdue for an oil change,” he told smiling girl.

I looked from him to her and saw the expression on her face grown solemn.

“Oh my.”

She looked at me like I’d committed a huge faux pas. Dreamy-looking muscular guy disappeared through the same door he’d entered.

She picked up some papers from the table and stood up.

“This way please.”

I grabbed my bag and followed her down a hallway and into a room that looked like a den. It had a sofa and chair and was surrounded by bookcases. I wouldn’t have been any more surprised to find a rhinoceros in the room. She motioned toward the sofa and told me someone would be with me shortly. She closed the door on her way out.

And shortly, it was opened again. The man was of average height and looked to be about 45. Everything about him was average. His looks, his clothing… average. But something about him was not average.

He introduced himself and I recognized his name as the one I’d been given on the slip of paper. He must be the owner. He sat in the chair, giving him the advantage of being able to look down at me on the sofa.

“It’s a good thing you came in when you did. Your oil is dangerously low. Do you understand what that means?”

Feeling a bit like I was an 8th-grader having been called to the principal’s office, I responded meekly.

“No.”

“You could have broken down on the side of the road. You could have done serious damage to the engine resulting in costly repairs. This is just not a good situation.”

I swallowed hard.

“But we will rectify the situation. And we will get your car back in tip-top shape, too.”

He stood up and offered me his hand. I was too stunned to do anything but take it and he pulled me up. He led me to the end of the sofa and very matter-of-factly said, “Please bend over the arm of the sofa.”

I looked at him in horror.

“What?”

He met my glare with business-like calm.

“Over the arm of the sofa please.”

He placed his hand lightly on my back and guided me downward. I was too shocked to resist. When I situated myself over the arm of the sofa with my ass feeling fully exposed, he spoke again.

“927 miles overdue. That amount would usually require a severe punishment, but since this is your first time with us, that wouldn’t be right. So today your punishment will be 9 spanks – 1 for each hundred miles, give or take.”

Before I could even respond, fire exploded on my ass. He’d pulled my tennis skirt up and was hitting my ass through a couple of layers of cloth. It was harsh and it burned in rapid succession 9 times. I cried out and echoes of my cries filled the room.

He offered me a hand and helped me up. As we stood there, he explained, “This is your motivation to be prompt with us. We take care of our customers and we expect you to take care of yourselves as well. We will see you again in 3000 miles.”

And with a polite smile, he left the room.