Diner

It was early afternoon when I pulled into the diner, the off time for them. A little too late for those wanting lunch and a little too early for anyone wanting an afternoon break. There was a new girl behind the counter and I gave her my order and sat down to wait.

The new girl was pretty and young and bubbly, full of smiles. She was quite willing to chat with the customers, me in this case, without being too forward. Not that I'd have objected if she wanted to be a bit forward with me. She was around eighteen, dark hair, dark eyes, nice tan, and a very nice figure. A C cup, according to my discerning eye, which is what I consider the right size for my hand.

My snack came out and I took my time, enjoying it. The cook was an old friend and highly skilled. When I say old, I mean very old, as he was in his seventies. He only worked in the diner because he found it too boring being retired. Darlene, the waitress, hung around and flirted mildly for a while, then went back to her stand behind the counter, reading a magazine while keeping one eye on me in case I needed something else.

My appreciation of the new waitress was shortly to take a marked downturn. I finished my coffee and strolled over to the counter to pay for the meal. I handed Darlene a fifty and she stuck it in the till and then started dithering. I have never known anyone take so long to count out some change. She dropped some change and had to pick it up. Dropped it again and picked it up again. I waited patiently and she finally counted out my change.

She short-changed me. I had handed her a fifty and received change from a twenty. I gently pointed this out to her.

Normally when someone short-changes you and you point it out they apologise and give you the rest of your change. The chances are that, if it's a deliberate ploy, the checkout girl will have the rest of your change under her hand, ready to give it to you if you complain, or to pocket it if you walk away without noticing. Sometimes they'll argue the point, but very rarely.

Darlene was prepared to argue the point. She smiled very prettily and flatly denied that she'd given me the wrong change.

"Oh, no," she insisted, "you only gave me a twenty. You can see that I rang it up as a twenty. Look, I haven't even put it under the snap on the drawer. It's just resting on top."

Maybe it was, but I'd been watching and she'd raised the snap and lowered it on the fifty. I'd taken note of that because the norm is to stick the fifty on the clip in front of the till while they count out the change. That way what you gave them is in plain sight and there is no argument. The rotten little bitch was deliberately trying to pinch my money and make me feel guilty for suspecting that she could make a mistake like that.

I was very specific. I stated flatly that I'd given her a fifty that she had placed in the till. I didn't give a damn what she'd rung up, I wanted the correct change. She flatly refused. I'd given her a twenty, she insisted, tears in her eyes, and that was all she could give me change for. If she gave me change for a fifty she'd be short when the till was balanced and she'd have to pay the difference.

It was a brilliant performance, but a performance was what it was. I was supposed to feel like a heel for making her cry, concede that I might have made an error, and depart quietly, leaving her victorious. Instead I jibbed, demanding my change.

Darlene got louder, protesting hard enough for the cook to hear and come out, demanding to know what the problem was. I suspected that she had old Charlie wrapped around her finger and expected him to give her unconditional support. I put my case first.

"I paid Darlene with a fifty and she had deliberately short-changed me," I said flatly.

"No," protested Darlene. "That's not it at all. He only gave me a twenty and he's trying to make it look like it's my fault. It's not, I swear."

Very pettily said, and there was a real catch to her voice. Old Charlie nodded thoughtfully and made his pronouncement.

"Give him his change, Darlene," he said. "We need to have a little talk."

"What?" Darlene was shocked. "You're taking his word over mine?"

Oh, the injury in her tone. How could Charlie do this to her? Was there no justice in the world?

"Darlene," said Charlie with a sigh, "do you remember me saying the owner would be dropping by today? Let me introduce you to Brendan."

"My change, please, Darlene," I said softly, smiling gently.

At least, it was supposed to be a gentle smile. Darlene cringed at the look on my face so maybe it wasn't all that nice a smile. She hastily produced the missing thirty dollars and handed it to me.

"Thank you," I said. "Charley, why don't you shut up shop for a short while? We're about to have a staff meeting."

"So," I said, turning to Darlene, while Charlie went and turned the door sign to closed and locked the door. "Run that little scam very often, do you?"

"It wasn't a scam," Darlene protested. "I honestly thought that you'd only given me a twenty. I swear I did."

"Well, I'd love to believe you, but I've had a complaint about you doing the same thing to someone else," I said affably. "That tends to suggest a pattern."

I was going to lower the boom on her and she knew it. The tears vanished and she just looked plain furious. She was fairly caught and there was nothing she could really say, so she wasn't going to bother. Charlie had other ideas.

"Ah, a word with you, boss, before you do anything that I'll regret," said Charlie before I could take Darlene to pieces.

I raised a quizzical eyebrow at him. He knew the policy where cheating the customers was concerned. One strike and you're out. Darlene didn't have a leg to stand on. Well, she did, two very nice ones, but they weren't going to help her any.

"Darlene really needs this job," Charlie said quietly. "If she loses it she's not going to find another one around here. She's a good worker and popular with the customers. I'll be in everyone's dirt book if she gets fired."

"You know, I don't think she'll be too popular with the customers once they twig to the fact that's she's ripping them off," I pointed out.

"She'll cry and deny it. Who do you think they're gonna believe, you or her."

I had to grin at that. She was almost able to convince me that I'd handed her a twenty instead of a fifty, and I'd made a note of the serial number on the bill. Essential for little traps like this.

"Trouble is, if I keep her on she gets off scot free, decides that we're soft, and keeps on bilking the customers. Someone's going to wise up and we could find out reputation going down the tubes."

"Well, I didn't say let her off scot free. I guess some sort of penalty need to be applied. I'm just saying give her another chance."

I looked at Darlene who was looking totally innocent and put-upon, letting Charlie speak for her. Probably her best course of action at this stage.

"So if I keep her on and apply a different penalty, what would it be? A bit hard to demote someone who's already on the lowest rung and I'm not allowed to apply financial penalties. Running the cash register is an essential part of her job. I need to be able to trust her and at this point, I can't."

Charlie scratched his head and pondered. I waited. Darlene played Brer Fox, lying low and saying nothing.

"She's just a kid," muttered Charlie.

Not according to her employee details. I didn't point this out because Charlie wasn't actually talking to me. He was considering Darlene.

"Give her a kid's penalty," Charlie decided. "Warm up her bottom with a paddle. That'll show her that you're serious about this."

I didn't laugh in his face. I like old Charlie. I considered the suggestion (for about one millisecond).

"I don't think that's entirely appropriate, Charlie," I told him, glancing over at Darlene who was looking annoyed and flushing at the suggestion that she be paddled. "For a start, she's not a kid, and I very much doubt that she'd agree to your suggestion."

"Yes, I would," said Darlene quickly. "If it means keeping my job I'd have no problems with it."

"There you go, boss. Problem solved," said Charlie, with a note of triumph in his voice.

I gave him an irritated glance and an even testier one for Darlene.

"All right," I snapped. "Just as long as Darlene agrees and knows that this is her first and last chance. Any further troubles and she will be out."

"No worries, boss," said Charlie. "She'll be as good as gold. Won't you, Darlene?"

Darlene nodded eagerly.

"Yes. Truly I will. I'm sorry for what I was doing."

Sorry that she'd been caught, in my opinion. Maybe Charlie's spanking would help straighten her up.

"Alright, Charlie, you can deliver a good paddling to Darlene. I'll have a word with her after you've finished."

"Eh? Not me. You're the boss. It's going to be your responsibility. Some things you don't delegate."

"Me?" I asked indignantly. "It was your idea. You know her. I'm barely acquainted with her."

"All the more reason you should do it," Charlie said with a nasty smile. "It makes it more official. Me, I have to work with her. Bit hard for me to do that if she's whining about me having spanked her. I'll go for a walk and leave the pair of you to attend to it."

With that the rotten sod turned and almost bolted out the door, closing it firmly behind him. I glared after him and then turned and fixed the glare on Darlene.

"I am not at all pleased about this," I told her.

"Oh, like I am?" she asked. "It's my bottom that's getting paddled, remember?"

"And rightly so," I pointed out, which scored me an angry look.

I could suddenly see the funny side of the situation. Old Charlie was probably busting a gut laughing at my predicament. I'd better make the best of it.

"You might as well bend over the counter right there next to the till," I told Darlene. "Seeing the till will remind you of why you're getting this spanking in the first place."

I received another killer look, but there wasn't much else she could do about it. She'd agreed, despite my protest. She went and leaned over the counter, head resting on her crossed arms. I moved up next to her.

"Right, let's get this out of the way," I said, hitching up her tunic and tucking it into her belt.

Darlene flinched a little but didn't object. At that point. It was when I said, "These might as well come down," and started lowering her panties that she voiced her concern.

"Wait on," she said quickly. "What are you doing?"

"I'm just lowering a naughty brat's panties prior to spanking her," I said, briskly tugging them down around her knees.

"I didn't agree to having my panties pulled down," Darlene protested.

"How else would you expect to get your bottom smacked?" I asked. "It seems perfectly reasonable to me. Anyway, they're down now, so it doesn't really matter."

A very nice bottom she had, displayed to good advantage.

"You know," I said, "bottoms are made for spanking. Notice how nicely the curve of your bottom matches the curve of my hand."

She gave a little squeak as my hand settled on her bottom, gently stroking the curve. My hand did indeed fit the curve of her bottom very nicely. It was almost a shame to have to spank it. Almost.

I lifted my hand and brought it smartly down on Darlene's bottom. She gasped. I don't think she'd really accepted what was going to happen until that moment. She gave a squeal and a protest at the next spank.

"Not so hard," she wailed. "That hurts."

"You're kidding me, right?" I suggested. "You do realise that a beating is supposed to hurt?"

I emphasized this with another firm spank. She wasn't struggling or trying to move out from under, I noticed. Just wailing and protesting. Which made me wonder, just how much of her wailing was a put-up job? I paused for a moment.

"Darlene, if you're putting on a show in the hope that I'll go easier, don't bother. I know exactly how I'm going to spank you and I have no intention of changing it just because you're weeping and wailing."

With that I continued on my merry way, delivering a number of hard spanks to her bottom, helping it develop a nice healthy flush. I did here something that sounded like, "Bastard," muttered through gritted teeth, but Darlene ceased her wailing protests.

I kept up the spanking until Darlene started apologising and promising never to cheat a customer again. With that point reached, I spanked her harder, pointing out that at this stage all she was truly sorry for was getting caught.

By the time I considered it was enough Darlene was genuinely regretting her behaviour. I stood her up and turned her to face me, and I sensed that there were genuine tears in her eyes. She was trying so hard to hold them back I figured they must be real.

"There's not going to be a next time, is there, Darlene," I said softly, and she shook her head.

"All right, then. Now turn around and bend back over the counter."

She wanted to protest but didn't have the nerve. I won't say her spirit was broken, but it was biding its time for a better battleground. She turned and leaned over the counter again, head resting on her hands.

I placed a hand on her bottom, gently soothing it. As well as gently soothing her bottom my hand wandered further around until I was also soothing her pussy. I had noticed that it had seemed to get a little agitated during the spanking, with Darlene's stance including a slow spreading of her legs until her pussy was on display.

She gasped when my hand closed over her mound, rubbing it fairly firmly. I could feel the heat inside her, and moisture was beading around her slit. I rubbed harder, letting a finger drag along her slit, her lips pursing and spreading slightly to give me access.

"What are you doing?" she muttered. "That's not part of any spanking."

"Yes, it is," I disagreed. "After a woman is spanked she generally gets fucked, if the man has any balls at all, so that means I need to prepare you for what's coming."

"I never agreed to that," she protested.

Uh-huh. Her spirit was alive and well and prepared to do battle.

"True," I said, happy that I could agree with her. "You can call this a bonus for being a brave girl and taking your spanking without too much whinging."

By now I had a couple of fingers dipping deeper into her, teasing and exploring, building on an arousal that I suspected had started with that first spank.

"B-but you can't do that unless I say you can."

"Incorrect," I murmured. "I can do it anytime I like, because I'm bigger and stronger than you. Your consent, refusal, or silence, only indicate the legal definition of what I'm doing to you. Now you haven't consented, but neither have you refused, so I guess this means that this is seduction. Reluctant seduction, possibly, but still legal."

I'm not sure if she was going to try out a refusal for size, but if she was it got lost in her sudden shriek of shock.

"Sorry. Is this your clitoris?"

From the second wailing cry I guessed that it was.

"Sensitive little thing, isn't it," I said affably. "Maybe I'd better change tactics slightly."

I'd already managed to unzip. Rather necessary to reduce the building pressure. I rubbed my cock firmly against her pussy, sliding the length of it along her slit, making sure she knew exactly what was touching her. Apart from a gasp she didn't react. This changed slightly when I started stroking the head back and forth along her labia, teasing them. She moved restlessly under my touch, but didn't try to pull away.

I held steady for a moment and then pushed. Her lips yielded quite happily, giving way to let me enter and closing around me to hold me once I passed.

"You shouldn't be doing this," Darlene said with a groan, but at the same time she was pushing back to take me deeper.

"Of course I should," I murmured, pressing steadily forward. "How else am I to take your mind of that brutal beating? You'll find that a little internal massage takes the sting away."

I gave one last firm push and slid neatly into position, my groin pressed firmly against her. I paused like that.

"Darlene, exactly how do I get at your breasts?" I asked with a tinge of frustration.

Bitch. She sniggered at me.

"You can't," she said happily. "You would have to completely strip me."

Surveying her tunic and apron I had to admit that what she said was probably true. There was no convenient top to slip my hands under. I'd have to completely take off both apron and tunic before I could even get at her bra. Disgruntled, I pulled back and thrust in firmly, my hands holding her hips to give me extra oomph.

She gasped, but by the time my next thrust was driving home she was pushing back to meet it. From then on things got a little hot and heavy. I took her hard, not making any allowances for her relative inexperience. She wasn't a virgin but, at eighteen, how much experience could she have had? Not that it mattered. She was getting a lot more right now, and she was handling it superbly.

Youth and enthusiasm, I found, more than made up for limited experience, and those were two things she had in abundance. I was almost lifting her off her feet I was driving in so hard, and all she did was gasp and pant and push back against me, not letting me have all my own way.

I'd warmed up nicely and was driving in vigorously, having fun while slowly building up to the end game, and Darlene was with me all the way, matching me stroke for stroke. Eventually I could sense that it was nearly time for my end game. That's when she shocked the socks off me.

"Stop," she yelled.

"What?" I almost roared in disbelief.

"Stop," she repeated. "I want to turn around. I want to see."

Bloody hell, was my thought. I pulled back, disengaging, and spun her around to face me. My cock was glistening with moisture, covered in her juices, hovering scant inches from her pussy.

"OK, now," she gasped, giving a little shriek as I drove back in, letting her see me sink into her.

It's odd. Even a little interruption like that can bring you down off your peak. I was back to playing catch-up, although from her reaction she hadn't lost any of her enthusiasm and readiness. She was breathing hard, but I suspect that I was breathing even harder. I drove in relentlessly, eager to bring her to fulfilment, seeking my own at the same time.

It was funny. She wanted to watch, she said, but now that she could her eyes were closed and her head was tilted back, little cries of need escaping her lips as I took her. Then I was going in harder, feeling my release burgeoning, then I was flooding her while she gave a little cry and started shaking, clinging tightly to me as her own climax swept through her.

Darlene just sagged back against the counter for a few moments. Then she gave me a bright smile, excused herself, and vanished into the ladies room. I took the opportunity to tidy myself up.

A few minutes later Darlene came skipping back into the main room, looking young and virginal, totally untouched by anything that had gone on. We chatted for a few minutes, discussing her job and her ambitions. Without actually referring to light fingers I got the message across that she had a second chance, don't blow it. I got the silent message back that she would be fine, there would be no more short-changing the customers.

Charlie returned a short time later, leaving the door unlocked so that the diner was again ready for customers. He looked at Darlene's sunny face and frowned at me.

"Did you wimp out on the beating?" he hissed quietly, apparently not wanting Darlene to hear.

"No, Charlie," I replied. "If you doubt me, ask Darlene to show you her bottom. You'll find it has a nice glow to it. We've had a serious talk while you were gone. I think you'll find she'll do very well."