Author: Jack Crawford Title: The Loan Manager Summary: A small town bank manager uses spanking to keep his delinquent customers in line! Keywords: dom, MF, humil, md, spank, exhib <!--ADULTSONLY--> Copyright: 2010 It was another hot, dusty day in Butterfield County, Texas. In fact, it had been 117 days without rain for the county and the local economy was suffering. Crops had ruined in the field, cattle languished in the heat, it was tough for almost everyone. Everyone, that is, except Mr. Hiram Turner, President (and owner) of Butterfield Savings and Loan. Of course delinquencies were up, and many normally solid citizens were defaulting on their loans. Fortunately for Hiram, his father, and his grandfather before him, had always followed a conservative course of action and had instilled the same vales in Hiram. The Butterfield Savings and Loan on its own could easily withstand two or three years of hardship, but in reality it could stand much longer. Hiram was quite wealthy without the S&L. His family had diversified out of the county for many years and, truth be told, Hiram could easily buy the S&L many times over with his other assets. Naturally, that financial stability maintained the soundness of Butterfield Savings and Loan. Loans were rarely charged off. Hiram would purchase the loans through a separate company and make whatever arrangements were necessary for eventual repayment. If you were of good character, you could get a loan from Butterfield Savings and Loan, Hiram saw to it. So it was not unusual this hot and dusty day, that Mrs. Amanda Wildfire sat in the bank's lobby late in the afternoon waiting for her appointment to speak with Mr. Turner. Mrs. Wildfire was recently widowed when her husband had been run down and killed by a drunken teenager. Her husband had been crossing the street in front of the hospital the night Amanda was in labor with their only child, Amy. Now a year old, Amy was staying with her aunt Rebecca so Amanda could meet with Mr. Turner. It had been tough for the past year, but Amanda did not want to move off the farm that had been in her husband's family for years. Growing up in Butterfield County, Amanda did not want to leave all her friends, although her sister was the only family she still had in the area, except for her little daughter, of course. Amanda had kept the farm going, using migrant laborers, but the drought was devastating. Now the quarterly mortgage payment was due, and Amanda didn't have the money. That's why she was here to see Mr. Turner on this late Wednesday afternoon. Finally, as the few bank employees began to lock up and leave, Mr. Turner's secretary escorted Amanda into Hiram's plush office. "Mrs. Wildfire," he greeted her enthusiastically, "It's so good to see you." His comment was no mere pleasantly. At 26, Amanda had a trim, if not voluptuous, figure and her work on the farm in the fresh air and sunshine gave her a tanned and healthy glow. Her long brown hair had the slight hints of red streaks and it was easy to see how she had been Homecoming Queen in high school and had also won the title of Miss Butterfield County for three straight years and a Miss Texas runner up one year. "Please, sit down," offered Hiram. Then, looking up to his secretary said, "That's all Miss Hohenstein. Please lock up as you leave." His secretary smiled then closed the office door as she left. "Now," Hiram said to his client, "I understand you have a problem we needed to discuss, Amanda. I may call you, Amanda?" "Of course," she smiled shyly. "Mr. Turner, I know you are busy and I don't want to keep you, but as you said, I do have a problem." Hiram sat on the edge of his desk, folded his hands on his lap, and looked very concerned as Amanda continued. "I really don't know what to say, but my mortgage payment was due last Friday and I simply don't have the money to make the payment." "Well, Amanda," he soothed, "A few days late is not a problem, really. When can you make the payment? I'll arrange for an extension on your mortgage." "You don't understand," pleaded the pretty young woman. "I can't make the payment at all ... at least not until I can get a fall crop of watermelons or pumpkins sold. It won't be for another three months!" The anguish in her face was plainly evident. "And," added the stern faced Mr. Turner, "by then you'll have another quarterly payment due. Can you make both payments then?" "There's no way, Mr. Turner, there's just not enough cash in that crop and I still have to feed my baby." Mr. Turner crossed his arms and stared at the floor, deep in thought for a minute. Then he asked, "What do propose I do, Amanda? If you were in my position as President of the Butterfield Savings and Loan, what would you do?" Amanda could no longer look at the stern faced man. He was not unattractive, though old enough to be her father, and his banker's suit was an intimidating dark grey. She lowered her eyes and studied the floral pattern in her conservative cotton dress. With out looking up she offered, "My sister said that sometimes arrangements could be made." "Ah, yes. Rebecca. I remember that well. She had a temporary problem with her car loan that we worked out," he said thoughtfully. Hiram studied the young woman, who was visibly nervous ... her hands fluttered slightly and eyes darted about, always down, never up at him. "Could we work something out, Mr. Turner?" she quietly implored. She added, "I know all about how you helped Rebecca." "Oh? Well, I think we out to get our facts straight then, Mrs. Wildfire. Perhaps you should tell me all about these alleged arrangements." His voice was firm, and hinted at annoyance. He sounded a little like her father had when he knew she was lying. Thoroughly uneasy now, Amanda wondered if her sister had stretched the truth a little, but Amanda had no choice but to continue. She could not come up with the payment. Looking up, she stared into his eyes as she all but accused Hiram with the story Rebecca told her. "My sister said that you extended her loan so that her past due payments wouldn't be due until the end of the contract and that she could make those payments last if she made one monthly payment from then on." Turner said nothing, letting the silence of the empty bank building urge her to continue. "In return for that, she let you spank her. You pulled up her skirt and spanked her until she cried." Another long silence hung in the air until Mr. Turner replied. "That's close to being the truth. Your sister asked for the spanking and she got one. She didn't "let" me spank her. Rather, she got a good bottom warming to remind her that she needed to make timely payments on her loan." "I understand," Amanda said weekly, then implored the older man, "Please, Mr. Turner, can't we work out the same thing? I know it's bad not to make your loan payments, but I don't have the money! Please!! I don't want to lose the farm!" Big watery tears filled her eyes, and a single tear slowly dripped down her cheek. Handing the distraught young lady his handkerchief, Mr. Turner told her, "This is more serious than a couple of car payments, Amanda. I will accommodate you, but you must know before hand that you deserve a much more severe punishment than a smacking on your panties." He eyed her closely for her reaction, which was immediate. "Oh, thank you, Mr. Turner," she cried with relief, "I appreciate any consideration you can give me." Then, lowering her head with shame, she added, "I know I've been very bad about all this. I'll accept your punishment, whatever it is, if we can defer this quarterly payment." Still seated at the corner of the desk, he waited until Amanda tried to sneak a peek up at him. Then suddenly he spoke. "Very well, Amanda. Stand up and remove you dress." She was not prepared for that command, and was shocked by it. "You can't mean here, Mr. Turner," she pleaded, "What if somebody hears!" "Then they shall hear you getting a good, old fashioned, bare-bottomed spanking!" She blushed when she heard "bare-bottomed", but Mr. Turner went on. "There is nobody in the building at this hour, my dear, but if you don't wish to comply instantly, we could wait until tomorrow morning when the entire staff is present. Might do them some good to see this." Amanda's reaction was immediate. The prospect of a spanking at her age was bad enough, but in front of a room full of her neighbors? No way! She nearly jumped out of the chair and quickly unfastened the buttons at the back of her dress. Hiram was stunned by the lovely Amanda as she placed her dress on the coat rack. She must have been planning this all along, he mused ... the story of her sister, and that outfit! Without the dress, Amanda had on a matching set consisting of white satin bra, panties and garter belt, which suspended very sheer stockings. The underwear revealed more than it covered and Hiram liked his lips in anticipation as the comely young lady turned her back to him. Her bottom cheeks were only half covered as the swell of cheeks jutted out beneath her panties. She turned to him from the coat rack, and he regained his composure. He directed her to the large green leather sofa at the side of the office and whisked her over his lap as he sat down. "This is just a warm up, Amanda," he advised, "But, if you feel like crying out loud, please do so. We are quite alone." His hard palm made a loud SMACK on her right cheek, which was immediately echoed by a similar spank to her other cheek. Hiram slowly spanked either cheek with a steady rhythm as the young woman buried her face in her hands, quite in shame. Hiram made the spanks deliberate, afraid of wasting this precious moment. The feel of her satin panties as well as the satiny touch of her bottom flesh was arousing. He could wait no more than a dozen spanks when he tucked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and slid them down to her thighs. A lovely picture, he thought. Panties and garter belt nicely framing an emerging pink bottom. Her pert, white bottom already showed the results of his first spanks, as the fleshy summit of her behind was brightly pinkened. Amanda gasped as she felt the last tiny bit of protection slide down her legs. She felt fully exposed now, and clenched her thighs tightly together. She could feel the cool air tickle the surface of her warm bottom as she felt his hot gaze feast on her revealed flesh. Although she had felt shame and embarrassment earlier, she now felt truly humiliated. SPANK!! Hiram resumed his spanking as his hard palm punished her naked bottom. Her bottom delightfully danced and giggled as he spanked, turning a darker shade of pink. Eventually, the pain took its toll as Amanda squealed, "Ow! That really hurts!" Mr. Turner just laughed, "This is only a warm up, young lady. You don't know what it means to hurt just yet!" Then he loosed a series of especially hard spanks that caused Amanda to squirm on his lap as she tried to avoid the blows. He did not spank her very long, but it was a thorough hand spanking that had the young lady gasping with each swat. He stopped, and gently caressed the Amanda's hot bottom. Hiram really loved this part. He knew that Amanda would think the spanking was over as he gently probed her punished backside, something he would otherwise not have been able to get away with, and his steady gaze took in every detail. Strange, he thought, her bottom wiggles slightly just from her breathing. Now for the really fun part! "Stand up!" he barked, punctuating his order with a brisk spank. She struggled to her feet and clutched at her panties to cover herself. "You may remove those," he ordered simply. Amanda was shocked. She stood exposed in front of this man, her furry sex almost in his face and she had to remove her panties! Too stunned to rebel, she stepped out of the flimsy material. "Tell me," Hiram instructed, "just how did your daddy punish you when you were a little girl?" She thought about her reply for a moment, then realized that he may have had this same conversation with Rebecca. Amanda opted to tell the truth. "When daddy was angry with us, he would take us out to the woodshed and switch our bottoms." Managing to spit out the words, she still could not look at him as she admitted this secret. "Well, we don't have a woodshed here," reflected Hiram as he stood. "And, I don't have a switch, but I have something that may work just as well." He grabbed her by the wrist and ordered Amanda to bend over his large desk. Mr. Turner opened the middle drawer of his desk and removed an 18" ruler. He swatted his hand with it very close to Amanda's face. "Have to use this once in awhile on Miss Hohenstein's impertinent bottom." Amanda's eyes opened wide, wondering if what he said was true. "Works for her. Probably will work for you," he judged. Hiram returned to the front of the desk to examine the bent over form. "Not a time for modesty, my dear," he advised. "Spread your legs and place your head right down on the desk." She complied. "Much better!" She could feel his hand fondle her naked rump as she awaited that wicked looking ruler. Not one to waste time, Mr. Turner slapped her backside with the long flat ruler causing Amanda to squeal, "OWWW!" Hiram decided on a scientific approach. Starting at the fleshiest point of Amanda's left bottom cheek, he delivered six rapid spanks alternating out from the first swat. He repeated the process on the right cheek. On the last hard swat, Amanda bolted upright, crying in pain and clutching her injured backside. "Lie back over the desk, Amanda," ordered Hiram in a calm voice, pushing her shoulders gently, yet firmly down to the desk top. "We don't behave like that when we are being punished. These are for not keeping your place." His left hand was now firmly pressed in the small of her back, holding her down on the desk. With his right, the lengthy ruler smacked the backs of her thighs ... three times on each leg. Amanda screamed and cried, her legs kicking and all vestiges of modesty released. She was well beyond caring about what she exposed, that damned ruler stung like hell! "Six more, Amanda, and we'll be all finished today." Somehow his announcement was both a horrific statement and a relief at the same time. Amanda sobbed and nodded her head in agreement. WHACK! Across both cheeks at the top of her buttocks landed the nasty flat piece of wood. Amanda shrieked, but held her place. WHACK! another blow, terrifying in its intensity, bit into her bottom just below the first stroke. WHACK! WHACK!! WHACK!!! Three more stinging blows worked their way down her bottom towards the junction of bottom and thigh. It was at that junction, stretched taught and exposed by her position, that final stroke landed. Both of Amanda's legs kicked up with the spank, her body resting entirely on the top of the desk. She writhed in pain and her tears flowed freely. Hiram helped her to her feet and escorted her to a corner in his office. "Cry yourself out, Amanda," he advised. "It'll do you good. You just stand in that corner like that until you get a hold of yourself." Amanda bawled and hiccuped for about five minutes as Hiram admired his handiwork and the angry red blotches on her exposed bottom. When she seemed to be under control, he walked up behind her, and gave her a tender kiss on the cheek. He lightly patted her bottom and grinned as she jumped at the touch. "You realize, of course, Amanda, that a mortgage is a much more serious obligation than a car loan, don't you?" She nodded, then sniffed, "Yes." "Good. Because this is only the first installment." He could feel her stiffen at that announcement and she remained tense waiting for an explanation. "I expect to see you in my office at this time every other Wednesday, until you can make a mortgage payment. In exchange, we won't foreclose. Is that an acceptable arrangement?" Again, she nodded affirmatively. "Good. Then thank me for your spanking and get dressed. My wife doesn't like it if I am too late for dinner." Amanda turned around, hugged and kissed Mr. Turner. "Thank you, sir. I deserved that spanking, harsh as it was. I'll see you in two weeks."