Rita & Rhiannon's Bet

Here is the other version of

Rita's Bet

that I had mentioned I was working on. When I had first though about the premise for

Rita's Bet

I was undecided about where to take the story. There were two possibilities that appealed to me. While writing the first idea (published as

Rita's Bet

) I decided to write the second premise too when I finished, and this is that story.

This story follows the same two main characters as

Rita's Bet

, Rita and Rhiannon, and essentially the same broad plot outline. You will notice the first chapter in this story as mostly identical to the first chapter of

Rita's Bet

. However, near the end of this first chapter this version of the story diverges from the first version. The plot of this version rejoins the plot of the first version near the end of the last chapter.

This story is considerably longer than the first version of

Rita

, and many of the character motivations are different from the first version.

As I mentioned at the foreword to

Rita's Bet

, I love comments and observations about my stories.

However, once again: I don't really have an interest in hearing about how a chapter is submitted in what you feel is the wrong category. And I don't really care to bother with comments from burgeoning junior lawyers who just have to tell me all about the dire potential legal consequences of the action in the story -- just enjoy the story (or don't) for what it is. I also don't have an interest in hearing from unfortunate boys whose woman done him wrong at some point in his life and now he just has to lash out and vent his anger at women in general and find an excuse to call them skanks or whores. And for those who like to post with the hope of influencing the story line -- my stories, including this one, are finished before I start submitting them.

But your comments and observations on the literary aspects of the story (and especially in this case the differences between the two versions of the story), plot, character, mood, foreshadowing, etc, are all welcome and eagerly addressed and responded to, whether posted in the comment section or sent privately

Please enjoy the story. It is presented in eight chapters.

Rita and Rhiannon's Bet -- Another Telling of

Rita's Bet

Chapter Seven

I mentioned at the beginning of my tale a sinking feeling as I rounded the corner before Rhiannon's house. I wasn't frightened, but I also didn't know how this evening would go. Of course I had tried to prepare myself for the possibility of losing. It was a bet, after all, and could go either way. But the possibility of losing turning into the reality of defeat had been quite distressing. And I'd had two whole days to contemplate and dread my humiliating payoff before it became reality.

About a dozen boys and five or six girls were gathered just down the street as I rounded that corner: all congregated to watch me pay off my bet. I couldn't imagine that any of the young adults who had received an invitation not being present.

What possible Saturday night option could outdo for sheer entertainment value the opportunity to watch an opposing cheerleader bend over the back of a chair, lift her skirt, drop her spankee and her panties to bare her bottom, and then get her ass roasted with a paddle, all because her team had gone down to defeat to your team a couples days before? What more diverting and amusing entertainment could possibly be happening this Saturday evening?

But when my imaginings had taken the next step I saw myself steeling myself to make it through a paddling similar to that of my initiation: forty or fifty, or maybe as bad as Rhi's at sixty of seventy. But all that mental preparation was now wasted. I had earned myself two hundred swats? How, oh, how would I ever make it through an ordeal like that?

I stood on Rhiannon's front porch a moment longer before remembering that she had said the door would be unlocked and that I should let myself in. I moved through the house toward the downward stairs and the finished recreation room and entertainment center Rhiannon's basement had been remodeled into years before.

In the kitchen, from the other side of the door to the lower level, I could hear the sound of some conversation and an occasional laugh. I took a deep breath and swallowed and then opened the door. The noise below immediately subsided, becoming just unquiet as the small audience awaited in anticipation the imminent arrival of the star of the show.

As I descended the stairs the sight that met my eyes seemed almost a complete reversal of the scene I had imagined had Rhiannon lost our bet. I had imagined her and her white and gold uniform launching into a small group of navy and scarlet. But, like a film negative, the scene's colors and tone were reversed. It was my drear colors dispatched into a gathering of light gold and white.

I didn't stop or even pause, just stepped off the stairs and began to walk toward the far end of the room where Rhiannon awaited, standing next to an ominously placed chair. Just before I reached the end of the room a leg shot out and I fell forward. The action was so unexpected that I almost didn't get my arms out in front of me to break my fall. I lay there for a brief moment, but should have gotten up immediately. I felt my skirt lifted in back as a hand grasped the back of my uniform spankee and the panties underneath and pulled me up by them. The fabric wedged into my ass crack and vulva and I quickly used my hands and knees to scramble to my feet.

The hand was still grasping the back of my underwear when another hand grabbed the back of my hair and roughly pulled my head back and my face up. I didn't at first know if the two hands belonged to the same person, but looking as best as I could to my side I saw a flash of platinum blonde hair. Then I supposed that it was Lena who had hold of me both below and above. A mouth close to my ear said in Lena's voice, "Good lookin' butt honey." She gave my head a painful, hard shake by the handful of hair she was tightly grasping. I could sense clearly her irrational enmity.

I took a deep breath in response to the pain from my scalp, but the discomfort was immediately gone as Lena pushed me toward Rhiannon.

Rhiannon looked a bit troubled by Lena's brief attentions to me, but a big smile soon bloomed on her face once Lena had let me go. The room grew almost silent as those watching wanted to hear whatever words we exchanged. Rhiannon stood next to the low chair, the top of the chair back at about the height of my hips.

"Now let's see," Rhiannon began. "If I'm not mistaken your pathetic team lost by a score of fifty to nothing. So, doing a little basic mathematical calculating, I have arrived at..."

"I've got two hundred coming," I said, cutting Rhiannon off. "Let's just get this over with."

She giggled a little. I was trying to read her mood. In spite of the encounter with Lena I didn't sense any malice from Rhiannon, even though it had come off Lena in palpable waves. I was sure she was going to enjoy this just as much as I would have had the game's result been reversed, but I didn't get the feeling that her enjoyment would be predicated on ill will toward me.

Rhiannon signed with her hand toward the chair and I took the couple of steps necessary to bring myself to a position immediately in back of it. I took a breath and bent over the back, gripping the seat at the front on either side. Nothing happened for a moment. I had thought Rhiannon might 'prepare' me, but when she cleared her throat I got the idea that she wanted me to do the honors. I know I would have done the same: would have wanted her to experience the humiliation of baring herself rather than passively being bared.

I reached back, unzipped my skirt, and then pushed at the sides of the waistband. The skirt slid over my hips and upper thighs. Then gravity took over, pulling it to the floor. Then I put a hand at each side of my uniform spankee and tugged it down to my knees and let it drop. I did the same with the panties. I had put them on fresh just before I left the house to walk over here. No need to risk the added humiliation of even the faintest skid marks.

As my bare ass came into view hoots and hollers, whistles and laughs filled the room. I blushed a hot red and brought my hands back to the chair seat. I kept my legs tightly together to mitigate whatever I might be showing from behind. I wondered if some of the boys had jostled to stake out a position with a good view. I hoped I was disappointing them, but I doubt it.

Rhiannon was then around to the front of me and I looked up at her. She was smiling again (or still) and she tweaked my chin with the fingers of one hand. "Nothing mean or anything," she said, "but I'm really glad it's you doing the bending over instead of me."

"Great," was all I could think of to say.

Rhiannon had been holding the paddle that would shortly be collecting my bet: the same one that had paddled my ass after our card game the previous Sunday morning. The evidence of those ten swats had faded by mid-week.

She laid that menacing piece of wood on the chair seat right before my face. Then she took my hands and pressed them down at the front of the chair seat where she wanted them, although the position was not much different from where I'd had them. I suppose she just wanted to establish her right to dictate the position for my spanking because she next stood behind me and said, "Feet on the outsides of the chair legs."

There didn't seem much point to objecting, so I rocked my legs and hooked my feet around the outsides of the chair's rear legs, acutely aware of the unobstructed view I was giving those behind me. Their whistles and comments left no doubt that they appreciated the intimate spectacle.

Rhiannon's face was near my ear then. "Do you want to be tied?" she asked. "Remember you get an extra every time a hand or foot moves out of position."

"No, I'm OK," I said, shaking my head a little.

"Ok," she returned.

The audience had quieted again. I felt Rhiannon tap the paddle a couple times lightly on my bottom and then the pain I remembered from my initiation and the previous Sabbath morn was on my ass again, sinking in, the nerves all the way up my back to my brain feeling as if they were trying to somehow expand to make room for all the pain they had to transmit.

The crowd of eager onlookers began to count with each stroke but soon gave up the effort. It was like one of the round songs, like One Hundred Bottles of Beer. The group starts counting at one hundred but seldom hangs together to make it past ninety. This was the same. The band of counters soon found that the effort took their attention from the entertainment before their eyes. But I counted every one silently even though the gathering pain made it difficult for my brain to focus on the steadily growing number.

But I soon became aware that Rhiannon was taking it easy on me. She was swinging the paddle hard, but not brutally so. I could feel the heat in my ass growing and the pain building in my brain, but by the time she reached thirty I realized that my real initiation had been much worse, and that the ten swats that made up my short and intense forfeit last Sunday had been much harder . I was sure that by the time she reached two hundred my ass would be in a state of battered, discolored, crimson and bruised damage. She would collect, and I would pay, the full measure of our bet. But I could actually begin to imagine making it to the far distant goal of the two hundredth swat.

I remembered that I had taken forty-five swats at my initiation. By the time Rhiannon reached that point there was no doubt that my ass was already a red beacon and my mind was almost insane with seeking a way to accommodate the pain. But I also realized that I was not at the extremity of anguish I had experienced by forty-five that night of my induction.

After Rhiannon laid the fiftieth swat on my ass she let me get up. I slowly rose, my mind focused entirely on the fire my ass had become. I gingerly placed my hands on those burning globes, rubbed them lightly and stretched my legs. I didn't even become aware until much too late that I had stepped out of the skirt that was pooled at my feet, turned around, and had been giving my appreciative audience the full Monty. Frankly, I didn't care.

After some minutes Rhiannon indicated that it was time to resume and I reluctantly bent over the chair again. Rhiannon started swatting me again. The pain I felt, already at a high plateau, leaped up again immediately to torment me. But again I could tell she was not swinging as hard as she could, just hard enough to collect in full on the bet and to make a great theatrical production for her teammates.

Rhiannon had finished another twenty swats, bringing my total to seventy, when the phone rang loudly. An extension was off to one side of the room on a couch end table. Rhiannon stopped her ministrations to my butt and began to quiet everyone. The phone had shrilled six or seven times before she thought the room silent enough to create the impression she was alone, then she picked up the receiver.

"Oh, hi, Mom," she said. She listened for a moment, then she said, "Oh, well, sorry, I was just getting in the tub. Just finished watching a Nova. It was about astronomy. I've been seeing a lot of the moon. Did you know that during a full lunar eclipse the moon turns a deep red color?" and here she looked at me. She immediately regretted the little joke at my expense because many of those in the room couldn't help but snicker and she had to quickly cover the mouthpiece.

She listened for just a moment, then uncovered the phone long enough to say, "I guess you must have heard the water running in the background. I'm right in the bedroom."

Rhiannon listened for a long time then and as she listened her face changed. She had been entertaining an amused, 'I have a secret and you don't know a thing about it' look. But her expression changed to one of concern and then to agitation. She began to interject little 'oh's into the conversation. Then she was saying. "Yeah, Yeah, I'll get in the car right now. It'll take me about three hours but I'll leave right now. I love you too, Mommy. See you soon." And she seated the handset back into its cradle.

I thought, 'Had she said 'Mommy'?'

By now everyone in the room was silent. Even the waves of pain emanating from my ass seemed muted.

Rhiannon was silent and seemed quite shaken. One of her squad mates asked her what the problem was and that roused her from her stupor. "My little sister, Roxy, had an accident. She's in the hospital." There was a groan from some of her friends. "They're sure she's gonna be OK, but she's in the hospital and I have to go there. I have to go change."

With that she started walking toward the stairs and soon was up them and gone. We all just milled around. I hadn't even thought for several minutes that I was standing there naked from where my uniform sweater ended between my waist and hips to the tops of my knee socks. When I noticed a couple boys with their eyes glued on my pubes I thought to pull up my skirt for the time being.

Rhiannon was back in just minutes wearing jeans, trainers, and her varsity jacket. She had a small purse in one hand and car keys in the other. She still seemed distracted and shaken.

Lena was at her side before she could say anything. "You go ahead. We'll finish up here, OK?" she said.

Rhiannon still looked dazed and seemed like she might have some objection, but then nodded her head. "Yeah, um," she said. "Yeah sure, Lena. Yeah. Go ahead. Just make sure everyone is out after you're done. And make sure the place is pretty clean and that everything is locked up. OK?"

Lena gave her a quick hug. "You know I will, Rhi, she said. "You go ahead and do what you need to do. I hope Roxy's alright."

With that Rhiannon made her way back across the room and up the stairs. As the door at the top of the stairs shut Lena turned toward me. I turned from her to go back over to the chair, but pain exploded from my scalp. She again had my hair in her fist and was pulling it hard, and pulling me back toward her.

Then her face was close to the side of my head. "What the fuck are you doin' with the skirt on bitch?" She bent my head down, I guess so I could see my transgression. But as I looked down I saw her sweater and its 'co-captain' inscription. It was as if Lena was malevolent Mr. Hyde to Rhiannon's benign Dr. Jekyll.

"Get that thing off, East Bitch" she ordered, and I did my best to comply while she continued to hold my hair in that painful grip and to shake my head.

When my skirt was again on the floor she released my hair with a push toward the chair. I bent over again in the same position Rhiannon put me in and waited.

"Now where were we?" Lena asked.

"Seventy," I said. The word was barely out of my mouth when the paddle landed on my ass again. Lena hadn't bothered with any preparatory taps. When she swung the paddle it was without warning and at least twice as hard as Rhiannon had. My eyes flew open and I let out a scream of pain. Then Lena's second swat landed and the pain was enormous, mind-numbing. "Hey," I started to say. Then a third smashing swat was on my bottom and I decided it would just be best to shut my mouth.

I somehow rode out these assaults on my ass without moving. But my sobs and tears quickly returned and then screams of pain and then panic as Lena continued to slam my ass time after time. Soon I was shrieking with each impact and I began to feel lightheaded. My crying and hysterics were wild and unrestrained but somehow I managed to keep my position until I finally counted the hundredth smack. I prayed that Lena would stop there and was relieved when she did. When the next smack didn't fall I just sank to the floor and lay there trying to manage the colossal pain that was now all my body seemed to be. I was insensible to anything going on around me: any comings or goings or conversations.

Sometime later, probably a few minutes but for all I could tell it might have been hours, Lena was pushing at me with her foot. "Hey, Sweetpea," she said, "you got another hundred coming. Let's go."

The thought of moving my body, the ability to do so, was so distant and unobtainable a goal that I did not even make the effort. A moment later, doubtless at Lena's direction, the hands of other girls, their arms in gold sweater material, wrapped around my upper arms, pulled me to my feet and started to turn me with the purpose of holding me over the chair back.

I resisted, fought back, but the two of them had complete control over me. Still, I could use my voice, and I did so without much real control. "No!" I shouted. "No, no, no, no." I tried to back away and suddenly the pressure pushing me forward and over the chair back ceased, although the girl at either side continued to grip my arms tightly.

They turned me and Lena was standing a foot before me.

"I'm sorry," she said, a smile filled with amusement on her face. "Did you say 'no'? I thought you had a bet to finish paying. Or are you East cunts a bunch of welchers?"

"Please." It was the only word I could think to say.

"Yes?" she asked.

"I just can't take anymore," I said, a panicked quake to my voice and tears beginning to leak freely from my eyes again.

Lena looked me up and down. Then she reached out with her thumb and wiped some of the freely flowing snot that was leaking from my nose. "Yuck," she said in a theatrical voice, and then she wiped the snot on the front of my sweater. "So just what are we going to do about this?"

I was entirely devoid of ideas or offers and stood there mute, barely aware of my half nudity. I felt like I was waiting for the pronouncement of a judgment.