3 - WTP Prom Storyline (Update for $10 Patrons)

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==><== #PROM NIGHT IN PUTTSDALE A "Welcome to Puttsdale" Game [[Begin|BEGIN]]

{ }[Choose the person your character is taking to Prom. [Dan Long]<Dan| [Petra Strevetsky]<Petra| [Trent Bishop]<Trent| [Kailee Pound]<Kailee|]<date|{ (click:?Dan)[(replace:?date)[(set:$date="Dan")You're taking (print:$date) to prom! [[Continue|PROM NIGHT]]]] (click:?Petra)[(replace:?date)[(set:$date="Petra")You're taking (print:$date) to prom! [[Continue|PROM NIGHT]]]] (click:?Trent)[(replace:?date)[(set:$date="Trent")You're taking (print:$date) to prom! [[Continue|PROM NIGHT]]]] (click:?Kailee)[(replace:?date)[(set:$date="Kailee")You're taking (print:$date) to prom! [[Continue|PROM NIGHT]]]]}

No one does limos in Puttsdale. Or, at least, that's what your date tells you. Everyone is so close together, it really doesn't make any sense to get a limo to drive you a couple of blocks over. (if:$date is "Kailee")["By the time you get into the car, the front half of it is basically already there," Kailee had said, laughing.](else-if:$date is "Trent")["Too much money, anyway," Trent said sleepily, jamming his hands in his pockets.](else-if:$date is "Dan")["I-I mean, you //could//," Dan had wavered. "But, like...why?"](else-if:$date is "Petra")["One of the perks of a small town, I guess," Petra had said, shrugging.] So you just showed up to the school, corsage in your hand from the Landsbottom florist, at 8pm that Friday night. You could hear music and laughter pulsing from the gymnasium, and light spills out of the open double doors. It's a chilly night, and you rub your arms to warm yourself. You're sure that you look pretty lonely standing out in the cold like this, looking around hopefully for your date. And just then -- as though to add insult to injury -- //up pulls a limosine!// You cut your eyes at it as it parks on the side of the road and a group of teens pours out from the temperature controlled insides, shrieking and laughing and carrying on. You see Emily in the group. //Of course SHE comes in a limo,// you think bitterly. (if:$winner="Emily")[She's wearing her tiara, and it glints by the starlight.](else:)[She isn't wearing a tiara, but she still looks like royalty in her flowing purple prom dress.] She sees you standing there and grins, tilting her head up at you. It's as much a challenge as an acknowledgement. Her date, Dave, is holding her hand. Beaming. You sullenly watch them go inside, the door closing gently behind them... And at that exact moment, your date arrives. [[Continue|DESCRIPTION OF DATE]]

"I'm thirsty," you say into your date's ear. (if:$date_gender is "male")[He](else:)[She] frowns. "But we haven't even started dancing!" You shrug. "This will give me the energy. Let's get some punch!" You and (print:$date) make your way to the punchbowl, skirting through huge groups of people. More than once, you're almost pulled over by a happy party-goer grabbing you around the neck in a hug. Kid Missy is the hardest to break free from. "We did it!" she exclaims. Clearly, she's been having more to drink tonight than the school's punch. "We //did// it!" She grabs (print:$date) around the waist and squeezes. "High school is //over//! No more homework! No more paddle! We //did// it!" And then, before you can reply, she kisses you both on the mouth, one after the other, and slips back into the dancing fray. "...Well," you say. (print:$date) laughs. "Let's...let's get that punch." You finally make it to the refreshment table, and a punch-drunk senior pours you two cups. You and (print:$date) take them, cheers, and turn to face the sea of people once again. The entire senior class of Puttsdale wriggles and writhes and sings together as you and your date watch, casting each other shy glances over the rims of your cups. The punch is syrupy and sweet. In the crowd of people, a face stands out: (if:$date is "Dan" or "Petra")[it's David! He's dancing in the midst of a throng of people, but breaks free towards you at the refreshment stand as the song changes. He recognizes you and waves happily. [[Continue|SEE DAVID]]](else-if:$date is "Kailee" or "Trent")[it's Emily, strutting proudly to the refreshment stand, waving to someone at the side of the auditorium. //Adoring fans, no doubt,// you think. She sees you, and she gives you a conspiratorial look. [[Continue|SEE EMILY]]]

You say nothing. Instead, you grab (print:$date) by the arm and plunge into the throngs of people, bobbing and hopping excitedly. (if:$date_gender is "male")[](else:)[(print:$date) squeals, but immediately joins in. Soon, you're making your way to the center of the mass of Seniors, dancing every step of the way.] Everyone is completely high on life. You see the Gemini sisters dancing like reflections in a mirror. And over there, Elaine is head-banging adorably and pumping her fists. Doug dances by her, covered with a sheen of sweat. Ivy Grace is crowdsurfing expertly; Maggie Sweet has stolen everyone else's date, and they're standing in a circle around her as she shakes her hips. There, two seniors are grinding against each other so closely they might as well be having sex. Over there, a ring of dancers claps as two tall boys compete from the crowd's attention. Everyone is sweating and ecstatic and wild. You and (print:$date) fit right in. You spin around each other, sometimes pulling each other close, and other times dancing away. People cheer to see you together on the dance floor. "Way to go, (print:$date)!" you hear at one point. (print:$date) flushes with embarassment, but the smile never fades. The music continues to thumb as you twist and turn and soar across the dance floor together, singing along to the words when you know them, and often when you don't... Then, the music winds down, and the DJ turns the volume low. Over the microphone, he says in a sultry voice. "Alright, Puttsdale, Class of '15..." (Joyous cheers) "I'm gonna play something //slow//, now..." (Excited //ooo//ing) "So pull your partners close, or get off the dance floor!" There's some good natured laughing as the rings of students disperse, leaving only couples on the auditorium floor. You and (print:$date) look at each other shyly before taking each other hands. The lights turn from pink and orange to blue. (print:$date) looks at you, and in that moment you could swear (if:$date_gender is "male")[he](else:)[she] was glowing. Then the lights dim, and first slow dance of the evening begins.

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"Oh hey, bitches!" the familiar voice calls from your left. Emily, of course, is looking stunning as ever with her dark locks done up, ringlets curling behind her ears and spilling to her shoulders. Her dress is royal purple and is somehow luxurious and slutty at the same time: the skirt is long enough to swish with her hips when she turns, but a long slit along the side reveals the pale flesh of her legs. The dress is strapless and seems to cover her ample breasts by some type of magic. (print:$date) rolls her eyes in an obvious "This-bitch-again" response, but at that exact moment another friend approaches from the right, seizing (if:$date_gender is "male")[his](else:)[her] attention. They're immediately lost in some crazy catch-up conversation you know nothing about. Which means you're stuck with Emily. "Hey, Emily," you say bemusedly. "Where's D --" Emily takes your punch, takes a sip, and wrinkles her nose. "Bleh," she says. "No alcohol." She throws it away, leaving you empty-handed and stunned. "Dave?" she says, as though nothing had happened. "//I was drinking that...//" you say, softly, almost to yourself. "Oh, you know, that loser is around here somewhere," Emily continues, ignoring you. Then she leans forward conspiratorially. "How bad does it suck that I get stuck having to come to Senior Prom with //him?// And he asked me out in front of, like, the //whole school!// What a dork!" Even as she wrinkles her pretty nose, you see the gleam in her eye and the pleasureable glow in her face. "He's not so bad," you say, playing along. //And I don't think you mind ONE BIT that he asked you out with an audience...//(if:$loser is "Emily")[//I'm not even sure you minded the spankings, either!//](else-if:$loser is "David")[//you certainly didn't mind spanking him with one!//] Just then, a microphone chirps and the music stops. Instantly, (print:$date) is at your side again, and the three of you turn to the stage. "Speaking of the whole school," Emily says, giving you a wry smile. There, standing at the microphone, is David. He's holding what looks like a large shoebox under his arm. "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, Senior Class of '15 -- your attention please! It's time for us to announce this year's Senior Prom royalty." A cheer goes up from the crowd. "Yes, thank you, thank you. To help me in making this announcement, I need the head of the Student Prom Planning Committee -- and my lovely date -- to join me up here." Emily wrinkles her nose again, but she can't quite suppress a grin. "Dork," she says as the school cheers for her. She goes to join David, who holds his hand out to her from the stage. (print:$date)'s fingers find yours and squeeze your hand tight. You squeeze back, feeling your insides flutter in a lovely, anxious, happy sort of way. "This out to be good," (print:$date) says into your ear. You grin. "It already is." (print:$date)'s grin widens. Then you both turn to watch the crowning. [[Continue|CROWNING]]

"Hey guys!" As David comes off the dance floor, he kicks aside a mess of school-color balloons. "Isn't this great?" he exclaims. "They couldn't choose a theme, so they just went with //everything// -- who says indecision is a bad thing?" (print:$date) looks interested in chatting, but at that exact moment another friend approaches from the right, seizing (if:$date_gender is "male")[his](else:)[her] attention. They're immediately lost in some crazy catch-up conversation you know nothing about. David leans on the table beside you. "Hey, David," you say. "Where's your date?" "Oh, she's still making the rounds somewhere," he says. There's a twinkling in his eye as he adds: "She looks amazing tonight...and she knows it. She's gonna make sure everybody sees." "Sounds like Emily," you say, taking a sip of your punch. "You know, she really isn't so bad," David says. "Really, I mean it! Sure, she's full of herself, and a bit of a brat -- but that's just because she's insecure. She just wants to be liked by everyone." "Well, I think everyone enjoyed (if:$loser is "Emily")[watching her get spanked..."](else-if:$loser is "David")[watching her spank you..."] you say, grinning mischeviously into your cup. David snorts, then gives you a playful punch on the arm. "Hey!" "Oh, shut up," he says, waving you off. "Really, though," you add. "I'm happy for you. You got your dream date to Senior Prom. That's got to feel really good." "Yeah, it does" he replies. The grin lingers on his face as he looks out into the crowd of dancing people, his expression unreadable. Finally, he adds in a low voice that only you, standing beside him, can hear: "You know, Emily told me she actually //likes// being spanked." "//Really//?" He looks at you, his face suddenly serious. "You can't tell anyone that." "I won't," you promise. "I swear -- I won't tell a soul. Not even (print:$date)." This makes him relax. "Yeah...she was actually telling me about this right after, you know...the final event." He grins, wide enough that you can see his eyeteeth, and there's a gleam in his eye. "She knows she deserves it sometimes. She says she actually //likes// when other people get to see." "//Really?//" you say again. Although, in the back of your mind, you find yourself not altogether too surprised to hear the prom-queen wanna-be likes the attention of everyone watching her be spanked. //Yup...Sounds like Emily,// you repeat. You watch David's face closely: he seems to be thinking of something. "...I'll be right back," David says finally. He turns and dashes towards the stage, disappearing into the crowd. You watch him go until he's completely obscured by dancing bodies. A few moments later, (print:$date) turns back to you. "What was that all about?" (print:$date) says. You're about to say that you don't know when you hear a sudden chirp of feedback. Everyone's eyes go to the stage to see David, standing with the mic in both hands. He's holding what looks like a large shoebox under his arm. "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, Senior Class of '15 -- your attention please! It's time for us to announce this year's Senior Prom royalty." A cheer goes up from the crowd. "Yes, thank you, thank you. To help me in making this announcement, I need the head of the Student Prom Planning Committee -- and my lovely date -- to join me up here." There's a round of excited //oooos// as people part on the dance floor to reveal Emily, looking like she's having to try really hard to seem annoyed. She rolls her eyes, but can't quite suppress a happy grin. (print:$date)'s fingers find yours and squeeze your hand tight. You squeeze back, feeling your insides flutter in a lovely, anxious, happy sort of way. "This out to be good," (print:$date) says into your ear. You grin. "It already is." (print:$date)'s grin widens. Then you both turn to watch the crowning. [[Continue|CROWNING]]

(display:"DANCE") ==><== * <== Your partner fades back into the crowd. You step back, flushed and hot but somehow //less// tired than before. Your face is starting to hurt from smiling...but your feet are also starting to hurt from your new shoes. //Maybe I should stop and find (print:$date),// you think. //Or maybe I could just dance for one more song...// [[Continue dancing|RANDOMIZER DANCE]] {(if:$date is "Dan")[[[Go find Dan|MEET CHIZA FOR SUBONE]]] (if:$date is "Kailee")[[[Go find Kailee|SPANKING MAGGIE & KAILEE]]] (if:$date is "Petra")[[[Go find Petra|FIND TRENT & PETRA MAKING OUT]]] (if:$date is "Trent")[[[Go find Trent|FIND TRENT & PETRA MAKING OUT]]]}

As Emily gracefully takes the stage beside David, he begins to open the box in front of him. The crowd draws in closer to see what he's taking out. Suddenly, the gymnasium is quiet: every small sound echoes as each Senior stands on tip-toes to see. David masterfully keeps them in suspense. Finally, he pulls from the box a glittering plastic crown. He flourishes, and the crowd //oos// appreciatively. "As you all know," he begins, "it's a longstanding Puttsdale High School tradition to vote for Prom Royalty. Of course, most schools just have a king //and// a queen...and besides, it doesn't really make a lot of sense to //vote// for a monarchy..." Some people in the crowd begin to laugh. You see Doug cup his hand to his mouth and yell: "**Get on with it!**" The crowd agrees, cheering and clapping excitedly. David grins. "Alright, alright. Well, the Prom Royalty crown always goes to the most popular person: the prettiest, the coolest, the captain of the best team. And honestly, I'm just fine with that. I see no need to interrupt tradition -- it works fine just the way it is!" He turns to Emily, who keeps giving the crown sidelong glances, even as she's rolling her eyes at David's speech. "You and I know //full well// who most people were going to vote for before I went ahead and got involved. The rightful winner of the Prom Royalty crowd is my beautiful date Emily. So come here and let me crown you!" The announcement is met with a chorus of cheers. As much as people might be annoyed by Emily, they're loving David's showmanship -- and besides, it's hard not to be happy for her when she's beaming like a kid on Christmas Day. The cheers become louder and wilder as David sets the crown on Emily's head, then turns and gestures graciously at his competitor turned date. She truly is beautiful: her skin is fair and lovely against the stark purple of her long, elegant, slitted dress. Her blue eyes shine brilliantly by the gymnasium lights. Her smile widens and deepens her dimples, and she wrinkles her nose, covering her mouth with her hands as though she can't believe this is happening, even though everyone knows //full well// she's been looking forward this moment for months. And in the moment, it feels //great// to give it to her. "Now," David says into the mic, "I want to introduce a //new// tradition." The applause fades into excited tittering. "I want to introduce a //second// vote. This vote, you won't be writing down. I just want to hear your answer. Say it loud and proud." Emily's face is flickering between delight and confusion now, and the crowd is tense, enthralled. In the silence as they wait for David to speak someone //woos//, and someone else //shushes// them, not wanting David to be distracted at this critical moment. As calm as ever, David lifts the microphone to his lips. "So tell me this, Senior Class of '15," he says. "Do you think our Prom Queen Emily deserves a spanking?" The reply is truly //uproarious//. People start cheering and stomping -- the hardwood quakes with a hundred pairs of Seniors feet! The boys cup their hands over their mouths and cheer, whistle, holler -- the girls shriek and hoot excitedly: "Ow ow //awwwwwwwwwwooooo//!" You're pretty sure even some of the staff are clapping from the walls. You and your date, of course, are right in the mix, cheering your lungs out to join the group. The only person in the entire gym who isn't making a sound is Emily, whose eyes have gone wide. David turns to her, lifting his hand as he's holding hers. "Looks like the vote is in." With a the grace and strength of a tango-dancer, he pulls Emily towards him as the crowds cheer changes tone from uproarious to joyful. He easily turns her around so her round bottom is facing the crowd, then wraps his arm around her waist. The curves of her well-shaped bottom stand out perfectly on the narrow satin hip-line of her dress, and she kicks up one foot so she's wobbling on the other heel. The mic stand is close enough that it picks up Emily's cries perfectly: "Let me //go!// David, this isn't //funny//! Let me --" It also perfectly picks up the loud //clap// of his hand against her dress's seat. //FWACK!// "Owww!" //FWACK!// The other cheek this time -- and the crowd approves of this one's wobble just as much as the other's. "Nggah! David, you //fucking// --" //THWACK! FWACK! THWOCK! THWACK!// The sounds of her spanking blast from the speaker system, filling the auditorium, even as the crowd's excitement battles to drown it out. People are pressing against each other to see and record on their phones. Someone shouts out that David ought to lift up her fancy skirt, and pretty soon a chant has started: //BARE HER BUTT! BARE HER BUTT!// Surprisingly, most of the chanting voices are female. This might be for one of a couple reasons: (1) the girls are even //more// interested in seeing Emily punished because, after all, the primary targets for Emily's bullying were her female peers, or (2) the boys are, at this point, stupified by the spectacle before them. Or maybe it's both. Either way, David heeds the advice, much to the crowd's delight and Emily's chagrin. Her dress comes up in bunches, flashing the longness of her legs first, then the pale flesh of her upper thighs, then her pinkened buttocks, still dancing and jiggling as she squeals and struggles to pull away. There's a gasp as the audience realizes that Emily isn't wearing any underwear: her bottom is fully naked now beneath the glaring gymnasium lights. You feel (print:$name)'s whispering breath on your ear: "Wow...No underwear on a first date? She must //really// like him." Your face heats up at the thought of it. David continues to pepper Emily's bare bottom with hard slaps that cup the undercurve of her bottom, lifting and parting her cheeks, making the pinkness bloom into cherry red before everyone's eyes. Emily, for her part, kicks and squeals and shouts and curses, directing her anger at the //entire room// of onlookers as the glowing warmth in her bottom rises to a bright heat. //FWAP! WAP! SMACK! WAP! WHAP! WHACK! WHAP! THWAP! WHACK!// "Ow! //OW!// All of you //suck!// Owiiiieeeeee! S-stop it! GAH! Wahaaaa!! AAIIIEEEEEEEE//EEE//!" When, at long last, Emily's rear has been sufficiently heated and the former bully has //fully// tired herself out from struggling and crying, David releases her and spins her towards the appreciative crowd. You and (print:$date) join everyone in applauding as David, grinning ear to ear, takes a lackadaisical bow before gesturing to his date, whose face is a deep magenta across the bridge of her nose. She stares daggers at him, and her mouth opens with what you can only assume is a nasty curse... ...Until she turns fully and sees the crowd of onlookers cheering, clapping, whistling, //applauding// her. Adoring fans, every one of them. Of her discipliner/date, yes...but mostly of her own sore tushy. Of //her//. As this dawns on her, her face softens into a gentle surprise. The faintest hint of a shy smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. And then David grabs the mic, points to the DJ, and exclaims. "Alright, Class of '15 -- let's party!" Without a hitch, the music begins again. Within moments, there isn't a single person not on the dancefloor, and not a sour face in the entire room. Not even Emily's. She might be smiling widest of all...

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You can either SPANK or BE SPANKED BY.

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[[SPANKED FOR INAPPROPRIATE DANCING]]

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(if:$date is "Dan")[]{ }(else-if:$date is "Kailee")[Kailee calls out your name from halfway down the block. You turn, and you almost don't recognize her. It's not until she's close enough that you can see the pink stripe in her dark chestnut hair that you know for sure your date has arrived. Kailee is the type of pretty that is //always// pretty -- whether she's in sweatpants and a tee shirt or a prom dress. But god //damn// is she pretty in this dress. It's surprisingly girly: a glossy pink, particularly striking beneath her dark jacket, with a matching sequined purse at her side. Her hair is done up, glistening with hairspray. Her make-up is perfect: her eyeshadow is a modest purple, a nod to her punky "daytime self." But the most striking of all is her //smile.// She's beaming at you, shuffling with her hands shyly in her pockets, face lit up with pride and happiness. Your heart melts to see it. //She actually wanted to come to prom with me,// you think, amazed. //This beautiful girl actually LIKES me...// When she finally gets to you, you're speechless. She giggles awkwardly, eyeing the corsage. "Gonna pin that on me?" she says. You snap back to reality. "Oh, uh, yeah -- here..." With clumsy hands, you fumble the box open, take the corsage, and bring it to Kailee's bosom. She takes you by your hand, grinning broadly. "I'll help," she says softly. "Don't want to get stabbed before we even get inside..." You both laugh. In the silence that follows, as you pin the corsage to the top of her shoulderless dress, you blurt out: "You're beautiful." Kailee's eyes widen for a moment, and you almost think you've made a mistake. Then she grins, laughing sharply, covering her face. She kisses your cheek, and you flush. "Let's go in, Romeo," she says into your ear. "I spent all this time on my hair and dress -- I'm gonna make sure //everyone// sees it." You laugh again, and she hooks her arm under yours. Together, you enter the auditorium arm-in-arm.]

The moment you enter you feel as though you're going to be blown away by the sound and light. You and (print:$date) look at eachother, grinning, unable to hear each other over the deafening noise. The theme, you remember, is a "Dream Ride on a Paris Carousel through the Stars" -- and the actual venue is just as mismatched and bizarre. The ceiling hangs with irregularly heighted stars, and the walls are decorated with psycholdelic carousel animals on a bizarre pilgrimmage to the Eiffel Tower. You can't help laughing, but you can't even hear your own laughter over the music. Then, (print:$date) leans over and yells into your ear: "What should we do first?!" (if:$date_gender is "male")[He](else:)[She] laughs, eyes sparkling. You turn; from the looks of it, the options are, //Join the dance floor// or //Go to the refreshments stand//. You look out into the sea of dancing teenagers and make your choice. [[Go get some punch|PUNCH BOWL]] [[Dance!|DANCING]]

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**//This demo is a scene from a coming "Welcome to Puttsdale" update! You and your date have arrived at prom, and after some dancing and punch, it's time to get some resolution to the rivalry between David and Emily. Check in again soon for the full prom scene update!//** ==><== * <== Suddenly you hear a sudden chirp of feedback. Everyone's eyes go to the stage to see David, standing with the mic in both hands. He's holding what looks like a large shoebox under his arm. "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, Senior Class of '15 -- your attention please! It's time for us to announce this year's Senior Prom royalty." A cheer goes up from the crowd. "Yes, thank you, thank you. To help me in making this announcement, I need the head of the Student Prom Planning Committee -- and my lovely date -- to join me up here." There's a round of excited //oooos// as people part on the dance floor to reveal Emily, looking like she's having to try really hard to seem annoyed. She rolls her eyes, but can't quite suppress a happy grin. Your date's fingers find yours and squeeze your hand tight. You squeeze back, feeling your insides flutter in a lovely, anxious, happy sort of way. "This out to be good," your date says into your ear. You grin. "It already is." Then you both turn to watch the crowning. [[Continue|1]]

As the music starts again, the crowd dissolves into a moving mass of dancers. You and (print:$date) have to grab hands not to be swept away in it. Everyone is moving, jumping, swaying, and singing along: you see couples locked in tight gyrations, groups of girls squealing and clasping each other, and all manner of dancing, varying from good to bad to outright ridiculous. Soon enough, the entire dance floor has a single pulse and rhythm, and you're being moved with it, by it. Laughing joyously, you and (print:$date) pull together, hug tightly, then allow yourselves to drift apart. "Meet you on the next dance?" (print:$date) says. "You're on," you reply. And with that, you're both carried away into the crowds. [[RANDOMIZER DANCE]]

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The announcement is met with a chorus of cheers. As much as people might be annoyed by Emily, they're loving David's showmanship -- and besides, it's hard not to be happy for her when she's beaming like a kid on Christmas Day. The cheers become louder and wilder as David sets the crown on Emily's head, then turns and gestures graciously at his competitor turned date. She truly is beautiful: her skin is fair and lovely against the stark purple of her long, elegant, slitted dress. Her blue eyes shine brilliantly by the gymnasium lights. Her smile widens and deepens her dimples, and she wrinkles her nose, covering her mouth with her hands as though she can't believe this is happening, even though everyone knows //full well// she's been looking forward this moment for months. And in the moment, it feels //great// to give it to her. "Now," David says into the mic, "I want to introduce a //new// tradition." The applause fades into excited tittering. "I want to introduce a //second// vote. This vote, you won't be writing down. I just want to hear your answer. Say it loud and proud." Emily's face is flickering between delight and confusion now, and the crowd is tense, enthralled. In the silence as they wait for David to speak someone //woos//, and someone else //shushes// them, not wanting David to be distracted at this critical moment. As calm as ever, David lifts the microphone to his lips. "So tell me this, Senior Class of '15," he says. "Do you think our Prom Queen Emily deserves a spanking?" [[Continue|3]]

The reply is truly //uproarious//. People start cheering and stomping -- the hardwood quakes with a hundred pairs of Seniors feet! The boys cup their hands over their mouths and cheer, whistle, holler -- the girls shriek and hoot excitedly: "Ow ow //awwwwwwwwwwooooo//!" You're pretty sure even some of the staff are clapping from the walls. You and your date, of course, are right in the mix, cheering your lungs out to join the group. The only person in the entire gym who isn't making a sound is Emily, whose eyes have gone wide. David turns to her, lifting his hand as he's holding hers. "Looks like the vote is in." With a the grace and strength of a tango-dancer, he pulls Emily towards him as the crowds cheer changes tone from uproarious to joyful. He easily turns her around so her round bottom is facing the crowd, then wraps his arm around her waist. The curves of her well-shaped bottom stand out perfectly on the narrow satin hip-line of her dress, and she kicks up one foot so she's wobbling on the other heel. The mic stand is close enough that it picks up Emily's cries perfectly: "Let me //go!// David, this isn't //funny//! Let me --" It also perfectly picks up the loud //clap// of his hand against her dress's seat. //FWACK!// [[Continue|4]]

"Owww!" //FWACK!// The other cheek this time -- and the crowd approves of this one's wobble just as much as the other's. "Nggah! David, you //fucking// --" //THWACK! FWACK! THWOCK! THWACK!// The sounds of her spanking blast from the speaker system, filling the auditorium, even as the crowd's excitement battles to drown it out. People are pressing against each other to see and record on their phones. Someone shouts out that David ought to lift up her fancy skirt, and pretty soon a chant has started: //BARE HER BUTT! BARE HER BUTT!// Surprisingly, most of the chanting voices are female. This might be for one of a couple reasons: (1) the girls are even //more// interested in seeing Emily punished because, after all, the primary targets for Emily's bullying were her female peers, or (2) the boys are, at this point, stupified by the spectacle before them. Or maybe it's both. Either way, David heeds the advice, much to the crowd's delight and Emily's chagrin. Her dress comes up in bunches, flashing the longness of her legs first, then the pale flesh of her upper thighs, then her pinkened buttocks, still dancing and jiggling as she squeals and struggles to pull away. There's a gasp as the audience realizes that Emily isn't wearing any underwear: her bottom is fully naked now beneath the glaring gymnasium lights. You feel your date's whispering breath on your ear: "Wow...No underwear on a first date? She must //really// like him." Your face heats up at the thought of it. David continues to pepper Emily's bare bottom with hard slaps that cup the undercurve of her bottom, lifting and parting her cheeks, making the pinkness bloom into cherry red before everyone's eyes. Emily, for her part, kicks and squeals and shouts and curses, directing her anger at the //entire room// of onlookers as the glowing warmth in her bottom rises to a bright heat. //FWAP! WAP! SMACK! WAP! WHAP! WHACK! WHAP! THWAP! WHACK!// "Ow! //OW!// All of you //suck!// Owiiiieeeeee! S-stop it! GAH! Wahaaaa!! AAIIIEEEEEEEE//EEE//!" [[Continue|5]]

When, at long last, Emily's rear has been sufficiently heated and the former bully has //fully// tired herself out from struggling and crying, David releases her and spins her towards the appreciative crowd. You and your date join everyone in applauding as David, grinning ear to ear, takes a lackadaisical bow before gesturing to his date, whose face is a deep magenta across the bridge of her nose. She stares daggers at him, and her mouth opens with what you can only assume is a nasty curse... ...Until she turns fully and sees the crowd of onlookers cheering, clapping, whistling, //applauding// her. Adoring fans, every one of them. Of her discipliner/date, yes...but mostly of her own sore tushy. Of //her//. As this dawns on her, her face softens into a gentle surprise. The faintest hint of a shy smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. And then David grabs the mic, points to the DJ, and exclaims. "Alright, Class of '15 -- let's party!" Without a hitch, the music begins again. Within moments, there isn't a single person not on the dancefloor, and not a sour face in the entire room. Not even Emily's. She might be smiling widest of all... ###More coming soon!

==><== #PROM NIGHT IN PUTTSDALE ##DEMO VERSION A "Welcome to Puttsdale" Game [[Begin|DEMO]]