Blast From the Past

"What's so funny, Lauren?" Moira Dean asks.

"I was thinking, that Inga probably has a good few months in her, before she plays croquet with the angels." Lauren laughs out loud, despite the nasty look from Inga.

"Zats it! I vill not stand for zese insults!" Inga unsteadily rose up out of the chair, almost knocking it over.

"It's a wonder that you could stand." Lauren shot back. Mocking Inga's unsteadiness. With the experience of watching videos of old people fighting on the Internet, a single thrown punch from Inga would cause her to fall flat on her tired fat ass. Lauren immediately regretted telling her body to lock in a fighting position, as Moira and Beth joined in, encircling Lauren.

Still expecting a fight, Laurens mind kept her body frozen in a pose preventing her to respond to a bunch of wrinkled hands grab her arms. Basically on autopilot, Lauren followed Moiras forceful commands to bend over the nearby ottoman. Beth, the youngest of the group returned from a closet with a thick leather belt, or technically a strap.

The strap was thick with two or three layers of pressed leather. Bold stitching on the sides, and on the underside in the middle was a layer of abrasive material that glimmered in the light. Lauren fears told her that that looked exactly like a grater.

With Lauren held in a new position, Moira lifted her skirt while Beth lowered Laurens special form fitting underwear. All laughed as Laurens ghostly white butt came into view.

"Wow, this girl needs a tan." commented Beth.

Zat vont be an issue anymore." Inga harshly replied, not in the mood to joke.

Inga folded both ends of the strap in her equally thick hand and proceeds to swing for the fences. Pain brought Lauren back to reality. This was the fight, and she was losing. FWAP! FWAP! With every hit from the strap, Lauren felt the roughness of the abrasive square rake across her now tanned behind, adding in some slight scarring.

After about two long minutes, the punishment stops. Falling to her knees, slumping over the ottoman, crying her eyes out, Lauren felt herself being lifted to her feet. Hoping it was Jim, she looked only to see the waist of the tall young Beth. Beth was given orders by Moira, to clean Lauren up in the bathroom.