Brady Bunch Story Challenge; Past Ass, Brady Phases,That's CrazyChapter 5 free porn video
My name is Harvey and I understand you all want to read a story about catching someone in the act and spanking the living daylights out of them, well, in this case that would be true.
I have a great story to tell. I’m sixty now and a widower, but I wouldn’t change one day of my life given the chance. The year was 1962 and having grown tired of pounding the pavement for the Fuller Brush Company I became a hotel dick and learned the investigation trade. It took a few years, but I managed to put away enough green to make my own business with me as the boss and I made it happen.
I set up a private eye, ‘dick,’office. I wasn’t much for formalities or making a bunch of money for that matter. But, what I did do was a valuable service for the community. Everyone called me Harvey or Mister Harvey if they were the ones I had either caught red handed or had been referred to me and were in trouble. And, I mean trouble with a capital T. You could say I made trouble go away. there were only two requirements for my discipline detective service. They must be of the female sex and be an adult of twenty one years of age. I left the boy toys for an enterprising dominatrix. Lucky buggers!
Summer time is hot and steamy in Southern California. A place where adult’s minds of all ages turn to the pursuit of behinds!
Carol had brought the girls with hair of and the youngest one in curls, now eighteen an a senior at Westdale High School. Volleyball teams from our different Southern California School Districts to a state sponsored volleyball skills camp. The constant high temperatures made dressing in the barest outfit possible necessary. Such modes of dress by numerous teenage girls made the camp one of bare skin and luscious sights and mothers including Mrs. Brady.
We were at a camp named after the famous scientist J. Allen Hynek.
‘Bottom watching,’ is my favorite past time, loving everything about women’s bums and the way they swayed back and forth.
You see ladies bottoms come in a wide variety of shapes and sizes. From fine to full there something about the woman’s movement I was always behind. Whether They were short with small girlish bottoms or bigger, round bouncy ones on tall ones belonging to tall models or fleshy butts which belonged to housewife women who wore tight slacks which displayed their tantalizing visible panty line caused by their fleshier backsides packed into polyester pants.
Besides the panties showing through taut pants of working girls pants suits regardless of housewife or working girl their were delectable details to be seen and enjoyed at their expense and dignity. I’m talking about the crack built around those balls of flesh as something worthy of my attention. I can assure you, I am not alone in the pursuit of this somewhat naughty hobby. There are men like me everywhere who have a deep appreciation and desire to view these bottoms in a state of undress. Those thoughts raced through my head. I had been thrown into a precarious dilemma by my own desires.
I found a somewhat peculiar niche which met a need in the communities that dotted the Sierra Mountains. I offered a complete package from investigation to finding the culprit and punishing them off the books. Whether it was a cheating wife or an adult working girl with her hand in the till of Robinson’s Department Store, I handled them without a stain on their character or careers. Once punishment had been given everyone’s conscious was clear and no one pushed matters further.
It was one of those sultry Southern California day we out here on the West Coast and suffer through during the sunny summers out here. I received a call at from a small town near Big Bear that recently transformed itself into a haven for rare books. Among these were the coveted by collector’s first editions of many of their favorite and hard to find books. More of these books could be found in each of the bookstores than usually the four corners of the whole country stored on its dusty shelves ... Collectors came from all over the country to go to the quaint valley mountain town. The Brady Case: The town led by the mayor marketed themselves as the charming town where one can get a Baskin Robin’s ice-cream cone at one of the red and white check tablecloth draped pickle barrels. After the guest consumed all the ice-cream they wanted the, visitors were invited to browse and buy rare books including the valuable first editions at any of the four stores. Each of the stores was had proprietors that were on the council. You can understand why the town had such an interest.
I took action with the urgent call from the town office I drove all morning hoping things could be wrapped up by nightfall. I was familiar with the secretary who worked for the mayor. She had been one of my first teenage clients to benefit from the special arrangements I offered.
“Hey Harvey, you should go right in. All the book merchants are inside with the mayor,” the secretary said as the keys of the blue Smith Corona manual typewriter as the keys struck the paper.
Little doubt the mayor hired her because she had one of the best looking asses in town. And, I know that for a fact having seen it up close and bare.
“Hello Harvey, come right in and take a seat,” the mayor said after shaking my hand.
“Harvey, we are over a barrel. If this gets out, we would be ruined.” Apparently some of the store owner’s/council members didn’t want to waste time on pleasantries. Sherwood Books, owner being one of those. “Our books are disappearing and no one has a clue how it is done. This needs to stop and whoever is doing it taught a lesson without a public stink,”
“Harvey,” the mayor continued, “As you know, my family financed the entire concept of marketing the ‘rare books’ buyers to come to our mountain spot. We lend them to the University for their Rare Book Room for folks to preview before purchasing, and the next thing we find out some of the books simply disappeared. The university president is at a complete loss as all his staff are checked in and out of the library through security and the public is never allowed to take books out of that section. If this continues, we would be wiped out.”
The owner of the Intimate Bookshop owner was blunt in stating what my job would be. “We want that thief caught red-handed. There can be no doubt about who is stealing our books. Once you obtain the necessary proof, make sure they get your special treatment. A lot of it!”
“Gentlemen, are we talking about a trip the woodshed?” Needing to make sure everyone around the table understood about my specialty is an absolute in my line of business.
“Harvey, we can’t put that in the minutes of the meeting, but I think we’re all aware of what happens.” The mayor looked around the room as the rest of them nodded their understanding.
“So, I catch whoever is stealing and if they are female, I in effect handle it and keep things under the table. You don’t want to feel the sting of bad publicity.” I grinned at my attempt at humor, even though no one else laughed.
Another bookstore owner stepped into the conversation. “Harvey, you’ve got to get to the bottom of this. I’m a small business. I can’t afford to take these losses.”
Another person around the table added to the comments. “It is vital you make a lasting imprint on our enterprising thief, one that lasts for at least a week.”
Perhaps the owners did appreciate his attempt at humor and were trying a little themselves. Turning my attention back to the entire group I continued seeking clarification. “After I care for this using the old-fashioned remedy, there will be no jail for the thief? No other punishment besides returning all the books?”
There were affirmative nods from the proprietors of Sherwood, NuWest, Shadowlane and The Intimate Book Shoppe ... In the end they decided around the oak conference table to approve the deal. I had been a boy scout, so I had come prepared. and produced a standard contract form. “Then gentlemen, with my usual fee paid by the town, we have a deal.”
The mayor stood up. “On behalf of our town’s bookstore owners, please find our thief as quickly as you can and have your way with their naughty behind.” Make this happen! Find the crook and make darn sure their nether region is roasted and well-cooked. And, then tell them they are never to visit any of the four book stores they scored books from in Sherwood.
It was a hot day. The kind of day where you can see the steam as it drifts up from the asphalt pavement. I began with a trip to the university library where housewife turned part time librarian. Mrs. Carol Brady worked at the library, often in the rare book room. I saw her go in the room although I could not see exactly what happened in the room itself.
After a few minutes she left the rare book room. Then, as I watched her tight green dress-clad hips sway from side to side Mrs. Brady left the library. The town’s prettiest University employee walked down the street with me casually following close behind her.
Don’t ask me why, but for some reason I always believed beautiful women and rare books belong together. Based on that assumption alone I thought Mrs. Brady worthy of a second glance.
The security guard had given Mrs. Brady a perfunctory once over as he looked in her purse and then opened her briefcase. I noticed she held an oversized textbook under her arm. Innocent enough for a librarian I suppose and the security guard must have thought so as well as he didn’t bother to inspect the textbook beyond a cursory glance at the cover.
As the lady had access to the one room to all the rare books I wondered if I had just stumbled on to how Mrs. Brady stole the place blind. The librarian had access to the rare books and everyone thought her above suspicion. No doubt most men were too busy admiring her body to think the lady might possess a decent brain in her head. She had no trouble batting her eyes and getting passed the enamored guard.
I stopped the young librarian on the nearest street corner. If I was wrong in my assumptions, I could always ask her out on a date. Taking the time to explain my current assignment to Mrs. Brady after stopping her I asked to see the book still tucked under her arm. She hesitated turning it over, but there was really no choice in the matter.
I took her oversized textbook and opened it revealing a first edition. I admit I was surprised when the young long brown-haired librarian maintained her pompous attitude. It was her cover for the embarrassment I saw in her red cheeks. Mrs. Carol Brady didn’t want me getting the wrong impression. It was important for her to let me know she wasn’t a common variety thief. Carol let me know she was smarter than the security at the university library and a lot of other people who worked there as well.
The librarian began to sob and produced fat tears for my sake. I had seen many other women try the same stunt, some worse and some better than Carol pulled off, but not one of them got away with it.
“Carol, cut the crying act out, right now. You’ve been caught and now you have a decision to make. You can let me deal with this or take your chances in court and possible jail time.”
The part time librarian managed to put herself together rather quickly for a woman who was supposedly heartbroken with her crime. “Just how do you deal with this in your own way Harvey? I hope its not something illegal, is it?”
“My, oh my, Mrs. Brady you have painted your bottom into a corner. Your butt in that dress cuts a mighty fine figure. Now with the proper attention paid to your backside and changing it from lily white to a bright red might just solve your problem with me, and no courts involved.”
“You want to spank me? Aren’t I too old for spanking?”
“Yes ma’am, that’s about the size of it. And the answer to your other question is no, naughty ones like you are never too old to be turned over someone’s knee.”
“Well, okay then, I suppose I have no other choice besides going to court.”
“Then we have a deal?”
“Sure. No worse than what my father will do to me if I go to court I suppose!”
“Then, Mrs. Carol Brady, without further delay get ready for the spanking of your life!” Oh, how I loved saying that to all the women I have found in a bad situation throughout my career as an investigator.
“Oh dear, such talk from such a handsome man.” She battered her beautiful eyes at me and stuck out her chest in a wanton sexual appeal. Such things under different circumstances would have made me drool. “Where are we going to do this? Not in public I hope.”
Kierra
- 04.08.2020
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