Mountain Valley Sports

 

Truckee, California, is a small town about 25 miles north of Lake Tahoe, California at the junction of State Route 28 and U.S. Highway 80.

Primarily, it is known as a winter sports support area to many of the Sierra Nevada Ski Resorts such as Squaw Valley, Heavenly, Boreal, and others.  It has also developed a tourist trade through innovative vintage architecture and many summer events promoting tourism in the area.

One of the highlights of the area is the downtown area, which has been restored to resemble the old west of the late 1800’s, featuring many costumed performers and shopkeepers.

A couple of years ago, I chanced on a small store with an interesting story.

It was restored to look like small town dry goods store of the late 1800’s, and was called the Mountain Valley Sports Store.  It was housed in a narrow building, somewhat longer than it was wide, and inside it looked pretty much like a dry goods store you might see on TV shows such as Gunsmoke, or Have Gun Will Travel.

Along one wall were shelves from floor to ceiling that ran the entire length of the store, with a high ceiling, and a rolling ladder to allow a shopkeeper to access products stacked on the higher shelves.  Ask for a can of peaches, for example, and the clerk would roll the ladder down to the appropriate shelf, climb up several steps and retrieve a can of peaches for you.  In front of the aisle for the rolling ladder were a half-dozen or so glass cases with various products displayed.

The rest of the store was unimportant, with various tables, stacked boxes, a ski rack, and a formidable looking iron stove for winter heat.

And here is where the story gets interesting…..

I had stopped to buy a can of ski wax in order to condition my ski’s for what was to be one of the last good skiing days that winter.  The clerk, turned out to be a young woman dressed in what I like to refer to a “schoolgirl outfit”; Mary Janes, White knee socks, a short plaid skirt, and a white sweater with a turtle neck.  She looked more 80’s Catholic Schoolgirl than an 80’s frontier store clerk.

“Can I help you”, she asked.

“Yes” I replied.  “Do you carry Perlite Ski Wax”, I asked.

“Yes, I think so”, she replied.  “I think we have some around here somewhere.”

With that, she started to roll the ladder toward the back of the store while looking up at the stocked shelves above her head.

A moment later, “Ah, I found it”, she said.

She stepped on a lever at the bottom of the ladder, locking it in place…..  a brake of some sort, then started up the ladder.

“We don’t have much call for this”, she said.  “We only have one size.”

“That’ll be fine, I’ll take it.  I don’t need very much”, I added.

I felt my emotions stirring as she reached the third step and reached for the pint-sized can.  I hadn’t really thought of it before, but I found myself staring up her short skirt.

She was wearing a thong panty but that wasn’t what caught my attention.  It was the red welts across the back of her legs and up her butt that had caught my attention.  I suddenly realized that there was no one else in the store; it was just she and I.

She turned slightly and held up the can to show me, and caught me looking at her butt.

Quickly, I diverted my gaze and tried to avoid looking surprised, as if I hadn’t noticed.

“Oh, don’t be self-conscious”, she said,  “A lot of folks get to look at my butt!  Women too!”

“I’ll take it”; I managed to stammer, looking away.

She wiggled her butt back and forth, and giggled openly.

“Go ahead and look”, she said.  “It’s okay.  I like people to look at me.”

I was literally dumbfounded, and didn’t know what to say.

Finally I managed to force out, “Do you get spanked very often?”

It was the only explanation that might fit the evidence, I thought.

“Oh, yes”, she replied.  “Every week.”

I looked again, and it was evident that whoever had been spanking her did a good job, as the red welts were hard to miss or explain away.

I didn’t know what more to say…..

I watched as she descended the three steps on the ladder.

As she turned to me, she said, “Would you like to see more of my butt?”

Suddenly I suspected some sort of scam.  At best, she might just be a prostitute looking for a quick score, but the fact she had been whipped enough to leave welts, and that she was willing to show them off intrigued me.

“I’m not sure”, I offered.

“Well”, she said, ”For men, I get whipped every Saturday evening after the store closes.  It costs a hundred dollars to get in and watch.  It takes about an hour.  I’ll be tied up and gagged, and my daddy will whip me good for the viewers.”

Surprised, I asked, “Your father does this to you?”

“No, silly!  My daddy!  The man I live with”, she replied.

She continued; “If you want to take pictures, it’ll cost you two hundred to get in.”

“What happens”, I asked?

“Well, when the men come in, I’m already tied down on the spanking bench.  I’m naked, face down, with my hands tied together high up on my back.  I’m gagged, and my legs are tied together at the knee and ankles.  Ropes hold me down tight, and I can’t even squirm or move while I’m being whipped.  All I can do is scream and cry.  And the gag keeps me from screaming too loud. ”

“Daddy is wearing a tight pair of pants which show off how big his penis is; he’s bare chested and oiled like a boxer.  He wears a little mask like Zorro, and black leather gloves.  Mostly he uses a leather riding crop on me –on my backside and upper legs.  And he wears a big round ear ring like a pirate.”

“And you let this ‘Daddy’ do this to you”, I asked incredulously.

“Oh, yes, and Mommy, too”, she replied.  “We’re into S and M, and it breaks up the week.”

I was flabbergasted.  I didn’t quite know what to say.  This was the first woman I had ever met who not only allowed herself to be whipped, but seemed to enjoy it, or at least if not enjoying it, at least accepted it.  And the sudden realization that another woman might also be involved simply blew me away!

“And what about ‘Mommy’”, I asked.

“Oh, she’s not my real mommy”, she offered.  “She comes in on Sundays and finishes me off.”

“What do you mean ‘finishes you off’”, I asked.

Meanwhile she had placed the Ski Wax in a paper bag, and had rung up $4.95 plus tax on the ancient cash register by pressing several keys at once.

“Well”, she said nonchalantly, “Women like it differently.  I’m still stripped naked, gagged, with my hands suspended from the ceiling and standing on my tip toes while she whips me.  First she starts on my breasts, then my belly, and finally all over my back.  Wanna see?”

I did, but not now, not here.

“You say that women get a different show than the men do?”

“Oh yes”, she replied.  “Men and women like different things.  Men like to see you whipped.  Women like to see you punished.  And men like to see Mommy in her Cat Suit.

“What do you mean by ‘Cat Suit’”, I asked?

“Well it’s all black latex”, she said.  “It’s like a Halloween Costume.  A black mask and everything. Very cat-like; very form fitting, and very tight.”

“Does she have a tail”, I asked?

“No – I’ve got the tail”, she said with a giggle.

“You mean you have to wear a tail”, I asked?

“No”, she said.  “That’s just a figure of speech.  Like in, Women are a piece of tail!”

As an afterthought, she added, “I like men to think of me as just a piece of tail!  Something to fuck!”

“You said that women like to see you punished.  Punished for what”, I asked?

“Oh, anything.  Anything at all.  If there’s nothing, they make up something.  An accusation, a suspicion, looking better than they do…..  even too much makeup.”

“Don’t this Daddy or Mommy ever really hurt you?”

“Yes and No”, she replied.  “Sometimes I really like to be hurt.  Sometimes I don’t.  But usually I do.  I like to submit to the pain.”

“That’s a new one for me”, I said.  “I’ve never met anyone who really liked to be hurt.”

“Oh, I do”, she replied.  “I like to have to submit to my Daddy and do what he tells me to do.  With Mommy, I like to feel that I’m being used for her pleasure.  Daddy too, I guess.  It’s a lot of fun for me.  I’ve always liked being tied up and used, and this is the perfect outlet for me.  The pain is often bad, but I can take it. …..  I have to!  It’s part of my arrangement.”

“What arrangement”, I asked.

“Mommy and Daddy own me for another three years, then I’ll be free to move on if I want.”

“Or…..”, I prompted.

“Or we can continue with a new arrangement if we want.”

“In other words,” I continued, “you’re a sex slave for another three years.”

“An S and M sex slave”, she corrected me.

“And would you fuck someone if Daddy told you to”, I asked?

“Sure…..”, she said.  “I’ve done it before, and I’d do it again if Daddy told me to.”

“And how much would that cost”, I asked?

“Well, that’s up to Daddy”, she answered.  “He collects the money.  Whatever he wants.”

“Do you have any idea what he charges for you”, I asked?

“No – Daddy takes care of the details.  I just do the work.”

Just then, the front door of the shop opened, and a couple, a man and woman came in and approached the counter.  My little whore of a shopkeeper held out the paper bag with my Ski Wax in it and said, “That’ll be $5.37, and please come again.”  It was accompanied with a wink!

The new customer broke in asking, “Do you have any skis for rent?”

“Yes, I’m sure we do.  Come right this way.”

She turned to give her attention to the new customer, and as she passed, she whispered to me, “My name is Karen.  I hope to see you next weekend.”

And she did!!!

 

 

27.07.11