No I.D...a “Pam and Al”
story (M/F)
(c) 2001 by Sampast
This is a work of fiction. All characters are invented. Any
resemblance to any real person is coincidental and unintended.
This story depicts a spanking relationship between two adult
characters. It should not be read by anyone unwilling to read such content.
This story, while not sexually explicit, is intended for an adult audience.
This story is protected by copyright. Readers may make one archive
copy for their personal use only. Any other copying, or any reposting or
republication, may be done only with the explicit permission of the authors.
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It was Friday
afternoon. Pam was exhausted. She lay back in her seat on the train,
thinking ahead to what she and Al had planned for the weekend. She was sitting on the end of the three-seater. Bruce was
next to her, and Al was across from him.
He was engaged in a conversation with Arnie,
who sat next to the window.
That was why Al didn’t know
what was going on when the conductor approached them and asked to see their
tickets. Pam was hoping since the train
was so crowded, they wouldn’t even come around.
That happened sometimes, especially on a Friday, when the train was
especially packed.
But not
today. There the conductor stood asking to see
everyone’s tickets. Pam had a ticket, of
course. A monthly
ticket. Al had encouraged her to
join the “Mail and Ride” program the Railroad employed. Never having to stand on
line again to buy a ticket, or even a Metrocard to
ride the subway.
Course, it didn’t do Pam any
good at home, in her wallet, where she had left it that morning. So when the conductor asked her for her ticket,
she said, “Oh, it’s up in my bag!” She
pointed to her bag, which was in the overhead rack.
“I’ll wait while you get
it,” the conductor said.
“Oh, for
crying out loud!” Bruce stated
rather loudly. “She sits in the same
seat every day. Don’t you know her by
now?”
Pam smiled. She couldn’t believe Bruce was defending
her. He was a rather odd fellow. He was married and had a new baby at home. He didn’t talk to her much. Mostly he talked to Sharon and Shelley, the
twins. He ALWAYS stood up for them. But today he stood up for Pam.
It didn’t help, though. The conductor stood there waiting. “Well?
Do you have the ticket or not?”
That’s when Al looked back
over at Pam. “What’s going on?” he
asked.
Bruce said, “Pam’s ticket is
up in her bag, and the conductor is making her show it.”
“So show it to him, honey!”
Al said, smiling.
Pam said, “Well, um,
it’s...” her voice trailed off.
Al frowned. “Don’t you have it in your wallet, Pam? You
always keep it in the front pouch.”
Pam nodded and said, “I
do. But it’s...” she stopped again. Pam hated to admit it was home. Al would have a fit. She wasn’t supposed to leave the house
without I.D. When he found out she
didn’t have her wallet, he would realize that she had gone the whole day
without any identification. And then
she’d be in trouble.
The conductor stood
waiting. He was staring at Pam. Al was staring at Pam, too. “Pamela? Where is your wallet?” Al queried.
Pam bit her lip. “It’s uhm, on my
dresser.”
“At home.” It was a
statement, not a question, but Pam nodded.
Al sighed. He took out a ten-dollar bill and paid for a
ticket for Pam. After the conductor
walked away, Al gave her the “we’ll talk about this at home” look.
Pam knew she was toast. She didn’t even bother to hide her feelings
the rest of the way home. Instead of
joking around with the guys, Pam closed her eyes and pretended to sleep. She wasn’t in the mood for their crude jokes
or sexual innuendos then.
At their stop, Pam said friendly
good-byes and wished everyone a nice weekend.
It was quiet as Al drove them the short distance home. They walked in the door in silence, too. Pam grabbed an Evian, slipped off her shoes
and stockings and sat down on the couch.
She knew Al would want to talk to her right away.
He came to sit beside
her. “Well, tell me why you’re in
trouble,” he stated simply.
“Al, I didn’t mean to. It was an accident. I...” Pam tried to think of a good reason,
but Al cut her off.
“I don’t want to hear any
excuses, Pamela Jean. I just want you to
tell me why you’re going to get a spanking.”
Pam sighed. It was a good thing he stopped her
anyway. She couldn’t think of one good
excuse for leaving her wallet home. It
had been careless of her.
She turned to face Al. “Because I left my wallet
home.”
“And why aren’t you supposed
to do that?”
“Because I’m supposed to
have I.D. on me at all times,” she said.
Then she predicted his question of why and expressed, “In case anything
were to happen, they would know who I am.”
“That’s right. And why do I insist on this?”
Pam started to cry. “Because you love me, and don’t want anything
to happen to me!”
“Yes, that’s true,” Al said,
taking her into his arms. He held her
tight for a few minutes. Pam loved being
held that way, and held on tight.
After a bit, Al let go. “Okay, let’s do this. I want to insure that you don’t forget your
wallet at home ever again.”
Pam stood up in front of
Al. She took off her skirt and panties
and lay over his lap. He raised his hand
high in the air and brought it down on her bottom over and over.
{SMACK! SMACK!} “You will NOT
{SMACK! SMACK!} leave your
wallet {SMACK! SMACK!} at
home. {SMACK! SMACK!} You will have {SMACK! SMACK!}
identification {SMACK! SMACK!}
with you {SMACK! SMACK!} at ALL times. {SMACK! SMACK!} Is that {SMACK! SMACK!} understood, {SMACK! SMACK!} young lady?” {SMACK! SMACK!}
“Ouchie! Yes, sir!” Pam
cried.
“It is very {SMACK! SMACK!} important {SMACK! SMACK!} to have I.D. on you. {SMACK! SMACK!} God forbid you’re ever {SMACK! SMACK!}
in an accident, {SMACK! SMACK!}
or you’re lost {SMACK! SMACK!}
or you need to deal with the police. {SMACK! SMACK!} I hope {SMACK! SMACK!} to God {SMACK! SMACK!} that none of that {SMACK! SMACK!} ever {SMACK! SMACK!} happens, Pamela. {SMACK! SMACK!} But you’re always
{SMACK! SMACK!} to be
prepared. {SMACK!
SMACK!} I don’t {SMACK! SMACK!}
want {SMACK! SMACK!} to repeat {SMACK! SMACK!} this lesson {SMACK! SMACK!} with you again, EVER!
{SMACK! SMACK!} Is
that clear?” {SMACK! SMACK!}
“Owwwwwwwwwwwww,
yes, Al, I’m sorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrryyyyyyyyy!” Pam
cried.
She was in pain. Al had been raining the spanks down hard on
her cheeks, her thighs, and her sit spot.
Pam knew she’d be feeling the effects of this spanking for a few days.
Pam sobbed. She had felt guilty all day. Now that she was being punished, the guilt
was slipping away. Al finished up her
spanking and helped her to her feet. He
made her stand in the corner for a few minutes to think about why she had been
punished. Then he called her back over
to him.
She knelt in his lap and
hugged him around his neck. “I’m sorry,
Al. I promise it won’t happen again.”
“I know, sweetie. It’s all over now. You’re forgiven,” Al told her. He liked to reassure her after a spanking. He didn’t want her to ever think she wasn’t
loved. That was his one fear; that she
would think he liked hurting her or didn’t love her.
“I love you, Al.”
“I love you, too,
Pamela. That’s why I want to protect
you.”
“I know.”
Instead of helping Pam on
with her panties, he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. He helped her soothe her red, hot bottom in
more ways than one.
The end.