Angie 3: The truth (M/F story)

Third and final part to the little series. Sorry it's a week late.

Three months had passed since Angie moved into my flat, which meant it was also two months since the day I took her over my knee and spanked her butt for her attitude and her refusal to clean up after herself. She was still living there, telling me that it was impossible to find an available flat within her price range, which I could easily believe.

Angie was the younger sister of my college buddy Dylan, and an attractive young lady. Earlier in the year, she'd spent a night in my guest bedroom so that she could attend an early college interview nearby, and she had ended up asking me for a spanking because she couldn't fall asleep. Surprised by the request, I had eventually agreed. A few months later, she'd moved in with me when she found mold in her new flat. Her deficiencies as a flatmate were soon apparent, and her brother suggested that I should deal with her immaturity the same way he had: a good, hard spanking with her shorts down every time she mouthed off or made a mess. In the end, I'd taken his advice.

Two months later, I could tell that the idea worked – partially. After a spanking, Angie would behave for several days, cleaning up after herself and dropping the eyerolls and sarcasm. However, after about a week, her attitude would return, and she would quickly earn herself another spanking on the seat of her panties. She'd stopped trying to argue when I told her that she needed an attitude adjustment, bending obediently over my knee without me having to drag her, but she still couldn't behave for more than about a week.

One morning, I found her sitting on the sofa in her pyjamas, watching TV. I frowned. "Angie, didn't I tell you to hang up the laundry before you went to bed last night? And you promised you'd do it?"

She bit her lip, glancing aside. "I forgot. I'll go do it once this show is over, I promise!"

I folded my arms in front of my chest. "I had to re-run the load. You'll hang it up when it's done, but before that, you're getting another reminder to keep your promises. It would be one thing if this happened once, but this is the third time in a row!"

She rose to her feet, staring at the floor, and I took her place on the couch. She stood before me, and my hands moved to the front of her pyjamas. I undid the knot, slowly pulling her pyjama bottoms down to her knees – before suddenly noticing that she wasn't wearing anything underneath.

"Go put on some panties, Angie," I commanded, averting my eyes. I'd spanked her in a thong several times, but I'd never taken her panties down. Partly to protect her modesty, and partly because her brother had asked me not to, and I saw no reason to refuse his request.

"Why?" she asked, a pout on her lips. I stared at her. "Why do I have to put panties on?"

"That’s… I can't… It's not –" I babbled. For once, I found myself speechless. I had not expected that question.

"Can't you spank me on the bare bottom for once?" She fidgeted with a strand of her hair.

I was once again forced to reevaluate some of the things I thought I knew. "Angie," I said slowly, staring at her. "Do you LIKE being spanked?"

Angie 2: Cleaning up (M/F story)

 "Angie," I said, doing my utmost to keep my voice calm. "Remember what I said about cleaning up after yourself in the kitchen?"

"I'll get to it later," she said dismissively.

Angie was the younger sister of my good friend Dylan. A few months before, she had spent a night in my guest bedroom so that she wouldn't have to get a hotel room for a college interview. Her interview had been successful, and she'd decided to find a small job here to give her some spending money during her studies.

One day, she called me and said that the flat that she'd found had mold and was unsafe, so she asked if she could stay with me for a bit until she found a new one. I'd agreed, since she'd been a perfect guest and I'd enjoyed our chats – not to mention that she was quite cute, with a beautiful rear end that was enhanced by the short shorts she chose during the day and the tight pyjamas she wore at night.

Unfortunately, she'd turned out to be far less considerate as a flatmate than as an overnight guest. She was messy, rarely cleaned up after herself, and played loud music, and when I tried to bring it up, she sassed me.

"That's what you said yesterday," I reminded her.

"And I'll get to it! Eventually," she told me, returning her gaze to her phone. It was like she was TRYING to annoy me!

Feeling my blood pressure rising, I decided to go for a walk to calm down. I had only gone a few minutes when my phone rang. "Hi, Wayne. How's it going?"

"Hello, Dylan," I replied, sighing. "No change, unfortunately. That sister of yours is a mess! I don't know how you lived with her for so long."

"Of course you do!" he chuckled. "If she made a mess or gave me attitude, I put her over my lap and tanned her little backside. We talked about this, remember?"

"Yes, well, I can't do that, can I?" I responded drily.

He was quiet for a few seconds. "Wayne, have you been dropped on your head recently? Of course you can! You DID, remember? Quite effectively, too, as far as I understand it, though I obviously wasn't there."

"Yes, I spanked her to help her sleep – because she asked me to," I replied. "I can't spank her just to get her to behave."

"Why not?" he asked. I tried to think of an answer. "Just tell her that she can either clean up after herself, take the spanking, or move out."

"You're a fount of wisdom, Dylan," I replied. "Talk to you later."

Deciding to act immediately, I turned and headed back. To tell the truth, the reason I'd been hesitant to punish Angie was that I'd enjoyed taking her over my lap a little too much. Her beautiful bottom had felt wonderfully soft, and I'd loved seeing it bounce under my palm as she squealed. Punishments should be about improving her behaviour, not for my enjoyment.

However, as I glanced at the mess that had been my kitchen, I decided that I would DEFINITELY enjoy this.

I walked up to Angie, grabbing the phone from her hand. "Hey!" she cried out indignantly, glaring up at me. "Give it back!"

"You'll get it back once the kitchen is spotless. And you're going to start cleaning right now," I said, using my sternest tone.

She rose to her full height, glaring at me. Since she was more than a foot shorter than me and about half the weight, it wasn't particularly intimidating. "Or what?" she spat.

"Or I'm going to take you over my knee and spank you," I replied calmly.

Angie 1: Falling asleep (M/F story)

"Hello, you must be Wayne," the short, young brunette standing on my doorstep said as she held out her hand. "I'm Angie." She was wearing cutoff jeans and an old t-shirt.

"Nice to meet you." I shook her hand and stepped aside to let her enter. "Need a hand with that backpack?"

"Nah, but thanks for the offer," she said. "I'm travelling lightly. I'm only spending one night here, remember?"

Angie was the younger sister of Dylan, a good friend I had met in college a few years before. A week ago, he'd called me and asked if his sister could borrow my guest bedroom for a night, which I of course agreed to. She had a college interview here tomorrow morning, but it was too early for the trains, she didn't have a licence, and she didn't want to spend money on a hotel room if she could avoid it. He'd told her that he had a reliable buddy with a clean guest bedroom, and she'd thought it was an excellent idea.

I showed her where she would be spending the night. Neither of us had eaten dinner, so I ordered a pizza, and we ate it on the couch, watching TV and chatting for a while. Angie looked nervous, but it seemed like that was worry about her interview and not something I'd done. Eventually, she bid me goodnight and went to bed. I didn't have to get up early, so I decided to watch a movie, though I obviously turned the sound down so that I wouldn't disturb her.

The movie was almost over when I suddenly heard a door creaking and noticed that she was peeking out at me. When she realized that I was looking back at her, she slammed the door shut. A few minutes passed, and I heard the door open again. This time, I kept my eyes on the screen. Soon the door creaked shut. This repeated itself a few times, before she finally opened the door and came towards me. "Wayne?"

I looked up. Her long hair, which had been tied up, now cascaded down her shoulders, and she was wearing a pair of pyjamas that hugged her curves very nicely. "What is it?" I asked, managing to look her in the eyes.

"I… I can't sleep," she told me. "Too worried about tomorrow."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I responded. "Anything I can do to help?" I considered offering to warm some milk or something, but I didn't want her to think I was treating her as a child – though admittedly, she was technically still a teenager.

She bit her lip, fidgeting. "You know I live with my brother, right?" I nodded; I'd been aware of that fact. "Did… did you know that he punishes me?"

"… The subject has never come up," I replied, wondering where this was going.

"He… whenever he's disappointed in me, he puts me over his knee and spanks me." Her face was now bright red and she glanced aside, no longer able to look me in the eye. My eyes widened; I had a hard time imagining this woman being disciplined like that, especially by the laid-back guy I went to college with. These things didn't happen, did they? I was also wondering why in the world she was telling me about it. Most girls would probably have died rather than tell some guy she'd just met that she was spanked like a child by her brother.

I said nothing, and eventually, she continued. "It's awful, it's humiliating, it's painful… but it's also… " She swallowed a lump in her throat. "It makes me feel safe. Particularly when he hugs me afterwards and tells me I'm forgiven. I also sleep like a rock afterwards. Being spanked makes you really, really tired." She stared at her feet. "A few times, when I can't fall asleep, I've even ASKED him to spank me. It's stupid, but it really works." She took a deep breath, and I could see her tremble slightly. "But… well… he's not here…"

The champion and the cleric 2: Diplomacy (M/F story)

Nathaniel tried his hardest to keep his face neutral and resist the urge to sigh. Being the prophesized Chosen One and champion of the Valley of Mirth had many advantages over his former life as a poor farmer, but there were downsides as well. Today, he was meeting with Bartholomew Blackstone, leader of the Merchant's Guild. They were hoping to forge an alliance against the Baron, but the man had a mercenary nature and an unpleasant disposition. Laenarisa was there to help, but unfortunately, she wasn't being particularly helpful today.

"I don't believe you realize that people are dying," she snapped at the smirking merchant.

Blackstone shrugged. "That is unfortunate, but it's their own fault for not securing supplies before launching their uprising. You cannot expect the members of my organization to make a hasty decision just because some peasants were impatient."

"Mister Blackheart, you cannot –"

His smile disappeared, and he scowled. "It's BlackSTONE, little cleric. Mister BlackSTONE. It's not the first time you've made that mistake, and I'm starting to suspect it is intentional. I suggest you watch your words more carefully, or this interview could have some unpleasant consequences."

Deciding that he needed to act before Laenarisa could dig the hole deeper, Nathaniel took a step forward. "We are very sorry for the mistake, Mister Blackstone. Believe me when I say that it was entirely unintentional, and we meant no disrespect, I assure you." He made a small bow, then placed his arm around Laenarisa's shoulders. "Now, I need to have a little discussion with my companion, so if you will excuse us for a few minutes? Thank you." He turned around, steering Laenarisa towards the stairs.

"Let go of me!" she hissed.

"We are going to find a quiet, isolated spot for a little talk," he told her, still holding her firmly and moving rapidly.

She tried to wriggle free, but it turned out that a farmer used to handling spades and axes was a little stronger than a cleric that rarely lifted anything heavier than a book or a quill. "I don't think this is –"

"I didn't ask you what you thought, I told you what was going to happen," he said quietly, his tone making it clear that his decision was final.

Soon, they were in a remote storeroom. He made sure the door was locked and that no one could interrupt them before he turned to her. "Are you proud of your behaviour so far?" he asked her sternly.

She folded her arms in front of her chest, huffing. "That man is a greedy, heartless exploiter!"

"Of course he is – he's the leader of the Merchant's Guild. It's not a position often filled by philanthropists. However, we could really use his help, so you are going to lose the attitude and start being nice to him."

"I don't have an attitude!" she snapped, glaring.

Nathaniel sighed. "Is that so? I shouldn't be surprised. Do you need a spanking right now, or can it wait until we get back to our room?"

She gaped. "A spanking? Here!? Now?" She glanced around at the stuffy storeroom. "You wouldn't dare!"

The champion and the cleric (M/F story)

Nathaniel still found it hard to grasp just how much his life had changed. A few months ago, he'd been a young farmer trying to eke out a living on the outskirts of civilization. Now, he was being hailed as a champion, and many believed he was the Chosen One that would free the Valley of Mirth from the clutches of the evil Baron.

For the last month or so, he had been travelling in the company of Laenarisa, a Cleric who had offered to be his guide and advisor. The young woman had the services of the Temple at her disposal and was a well-read scholar, but she was quiet and rarely spoke. They'd just had an unpleasant encounter with some bandits, and while Nathaniel had managed to overcome them, she'd suggested that they should lay low in a small village for a few weeks and rest.

When they found a suitable village, Laenarisa decided to buy supplies and see if she could find some better maps of the area, and asked Nathaniel to hire rooms at the inn for them. He was now sitting in the inn's common room, sipping a mug of ale while he waited for her to return.

"Excuse me? You're new here, aren't you? I'd remember seeing you before," a sweet voice said. He glanced up to see a slim, attractive girl with blonde hair, wearing a simple cotton dress. She smiled. "Do you mind if I sit down?"

He smiled back at her. "I would be delighted if you did. Can I get you a drink? I'm Nathaniel."

"Thank you. I'm Thea."

She sat down next to him, and they started chatting. Nathaniel gave her his most roguish grin as she giggled at one of his lamer jokes; the day was turning out to be quite delightful, and it was a long time since he'd enjoyed himself so much.

"I've procured the maps, Nathaniel. Are you busy?" a voice said tersely. He looked up to see Laenarisa standing nearby, her eyes cold as she looked at him.

"Hello, Lenna" he said, smiling up at her. "Was there anything else worth seeing in the village? Thea, this is Laenarisa, a Cleric who travels with me. Laenarisa, this is –"

"Yes, well, I'm sure the young lady has some livestock she should be looking after, so we shouldn't detain her any longer," Laenarisa commented frostily. "Good day, Thea."

Casting a glance at Nathaniel, Thea rose and hurriedly left the table. Nathaniel studied Laenarisa as she sat down. "What's wrong with you today, Lenna? You didn't have to be rude."

"You are a very important person, Nathaniel. You cannot waste time on frivolities, or chatting to every peasant who walks past," she replied in a voice suddenly devoid of emotion. She waved a hand at the barmaid to order a drink.

"I thought we were here to relax and enjoy ourselves?" he said sceptically. "Doesn't sound like we're going to be busy, and I can think of few ways of spending my time that are more enjoyable than flirting with a cute girl."

She scowled at him. "Cute? Her? You really think so? No, Champion. A man like you deserves…" She glanced away, staring at the wall. "Someone better." She tried to hide it, but it was clear she was hurt.

As Nathaniel looked at her, a lot of things suddenly began to make sense to him. He could have kicked himself. "I'm so sorry, Lenna. I never realized how you felt. Believe me, I would not have flirted with her if I had known. I didn't mean to hurt you, and I'm sorry." He knew that she was intelligent, kind, and attractive, but her stiffness and reserved nature had previously prevented him from viewing her as a romantic potential.

Laenarisa blushed, glaring at him. "Don't be absurd, Nathaniel! I'm a pure, virtuous Cleric," she scoffed. "I do not have those kinds of emotions. I'm only travelling with you for the benefit of all mankind."

He grinned; there was something about the look on her face that suggested that, despite her words, he'd struck closer to the mark than she was comfortable with. He inched closer to her. She didn't shy away from him, but her face grew even redder, and the hand that held her cup was trembling slightly. "You're cute when you blush. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"I am neither blushing nor cute," she insisted. She glared at him, her face now almost scarlet.

He tutted. "That's a lie. A Cleric shouldn't lie, should she? How naughty. Maybe I should spank you." 

Framing her friend (F/ff story)

When Haley entered the house of her friend Allison, ready to go on a trip to the mall, she expected to find her scrolling on her phone or watching TV – probably both at the same time. She would not have expected to see the high schooler bent over her big sister's lap, getting her bare bottom spanked, but that's what she found.

Haley stared. Could this really be happening? Was she dreaming, or had Lenore truly taken her little sister over her knee, raised her skirt, lowered her panties, and started spanking her? Things like this didn't happen!

Suddenly, Allison spotted her friend and let out a panicked squeal. "Haley! No! Don't look! Go away!" Tears were falling down her face, and she was squirming over her big sister's lap.

"Hello, Haley. Allison will be with you shortly," Lenore said calmly, continuing to spank her sister's reddening bottom. "She skipped school yesterday, so I'm reminding her not to do that."

"Ow! Don't look, Haley!" Allison yelped as her friend continued to stand there in the doorway and stare. "Lenore! Stop! You can't spank me when Haley's watching!"

The teenager howled as her big sister delivered a series of particularly hard spanks to her sensitive sit spots. "Can't? Do you really think you're in a position to tell me what I can and can't do, little girl?" Lenore raised an eyebrow. "Watch yourself, young lady, or I'll ask Haley to go to my bedroom and fetch my hairbrush."

"No! Ouch! I'm sorry, Lenore, I didn't mean it! Ow!" Allison kicked her legs, yelping with every hard smack on her backside.

Haley stared at the strange sight, her eyes wide and her mouth open. She'd never been spanked, and as far she knew, neither had anyone else she knew. That was some custom from the Middle Ages. But now, she learned that only had her friend Allison been spanked – she was currently being spanked! At the age of eighteen! By her big sister! This was unbelievable.

Abigail's adventures 4: Nilima's introduction (M/FF story)

"Welcome back, Abigail," Isaac said to the young redhead with the hour-glass figure. "It's good to see you again." As the two students entered the house of the tall, bald, muscular, middle-aged man, he glanced over at the other girl, who was a petite Indian woman with large, adorable eyes. "And this is the flatmate you told me about?"

Abigail waved her hand towards her friend. "Isaac, this is Nilima. She's been a bad girl and needs a good, hard spanking on her bare bottom."

Nilima let out a small squeak, cast her friend a panicked look, and suddenly looked very shy; the description was certainly embarrassing – but not inaccurate.

"I see," Isaac said. He studied Nilima for a few seconds, before turning his gaze upon Abigail. "And is she the only young lady present who fits that description?"

Abigail blushed, fidgeting. Isaac always knew how to make her squirm. "You should deal with HER first."

Isaac chuckled, before turning to the other girl. "So, Nilima, have you ever been spanked before?"

It was Abigail who answered. "I've given her some swats with a wooden spoon, and a hand-spanking over my lap, but I stopped once she started to cry. Some smacks in the shower, a few whacks with my hairbrush over her dress when she was being more cheeky than usual… That's all her experience."

Nilima looked more and more embarrassed at being discussed like this. "Miss Abigail is correct," she mumbled, not quite daring to meet Isaac's gaze.

"MISS Abigail?" He grinned as he looked at Abigail. "You've had quite the little adventure, haven't you? Now, Nilima, I'm going to start off fairly gently and then gradually spank you harder and faster. Does that sound good to you?"

Nilima nodded, still staring at the floor, but Abigail pouted. "That's not how you spanked ME," she complained.

Isaac raised an eyebrow. "Abigail, the first time I spanked you, I'd hired you to work in my garden, and you were often late and never listened to my instructions. That spanking was meant as punishment. It was only when I saw the wet patch on your panties that I realized how much you'd enjoyed it."

Abigail squealed, placing her hands over her flatmate's ears. "Isaac!" she scolded. " Nilima doesn't need to hear this!"

Zoe's Valentine's Day (M/F story)

The fourth and last part of Abigail's adventures will be uploaded next week, but I wanted this uploaded before Valentine's Day. Another entry in the Zoe & Thomas series.

Zoe smiled blissfully as she curled up under the blanket on the couch. It was Friday, she didn't have any college classes today, and best of all, it was Valentine's Day! She wondered what Thomas was planning to do once he came home from work. Would he cook something lovely? Had he ordered a table at a nice restaurant? What sort of present had he bought? He knew how important the day was for her, and he always knew how to make her feel special.

Her phone rang. Seeing that it was her boyfriend, she eagerly picked it up. "Hello, darling!"

"Hi, Zoe. I've just been told that there will be a mandatory meeting at the end of the day, so I'll be about half an hour late. Thought I'd let you know. You have the day off, right? Were you planning to make dinner, or should I pick up a pizza on the way?"

Zoe's eyes widened. He expected her to cook on Valentine's Day? That was HIS job! And pizza? He couldn't even pick up something fancy? "I… I wasn't…" She was too stunned to speak.

"Oh, and I think I mentioned to you that I'm playing Fifa with Steve later today? Hope you didn't have any plans?"

Zoe couldn't believe her ears. He was going to play games with one of his buddies on Valentine's Day? After bringing home a cardboard pizza? She frowned. This would not go unpunished. "No plans, no," she said quietly.

"Are you OK?" he said, a hint of concern in his voice. "You seem upset. Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong. I'll have dinner ready when you come home," she promised, trying to sound cheerful.

"I'll see you soon. Love you, babe."

"See you later," she said, hanging up. She headed into the kitchen to prepare the first part of her surprise.


A few hours later, Zoe was lying on the bed with a glass of wine, still wearing her sweatpants and an old t-shirt. She'd originally planned to dress up before he came home, but their conversation had changed her mind. She heard Thomas enter the house and call out her name, but she didn't respond, and he started looking for her. By now, he would probably have noticed that the house didn't smell like dinner – Zoe had already eaten some pasta. She had no intention of cooking anything for him.

Thomas let out a shocked exclamation when he entered the living room. A few minutes later, he found her lounging on the bed. "Hello, Zoe," he said, his voice strangely calm. She didn't respond. "Would you care to explain why my PlayStation is full of porridge?"

"THAT is what happens when you ignore me on such a special day and make plans to play games with your friends instead," she huffed, glaring at him. "And pizza? Instead of a nice restaurant? Do you really think that's an appropriate Valentine's Day dinner?" She folded her arms in front of her chest. "I bet you don't even have a gift for me, do you?"

Thomas stared at her for several seconds, speechless. Finally, he sighed. "Zoe, Valentine's Day is tomorrow."

Abigail's adventures 3: Pushing her luck (F/F story)

As the first light of dawn entered the room, Abigail groaned loudly and rolled over. This was far too early to wake up! A few minutes later, her eyes shot up when a hand began to gently caress her bare bottom. Where was she, why was she naked, and whose hand was that?

She realized that she was in the room of her flatmate Nilima. The day before, Abigail had returned home after a long, hard, and wonderful spanking from her former employer Isaac, to find her flatmate spanking herself with a wooden spoon. Deciding to give her a hand, Abigail had bent the girl over the kitchen counter and spanked her bare bottom with the spoon until she cried and squealed. The two girls had then ended up naked in Nilima's bed, caressing each other's bottoms while spreading some cooling lotion. They must have fallen asleep in the end.

She glanced out of the corner of her eye and confirmed with a sigh of relief that the hand exploring her bottom belonged to Nilima. The girl stared at her target with wide eyes, and Abigail could guess why – the redness would have faded by now, but the bruises would only be more visible. Her skin was most likely very marked.

She could have scolded her flatmate for touching a sleeping girl like that, but decided not to. Nilima was naturally curious about this new world she'd stumbled into, and Abigail HAD invited her to rub lotion into her sore bottom, which carried an implicit permission to caress her backside. She also didn't protest when Nilima gave her a gentle slap – in these circumstances, the urge would be hard to resist.

When Nilima gave her some harder smacks, however, giggling as she watched the flesh bounce, Abigail decided that she had to put her foot down. She lifted her head. "What do you think you're doing?" she said sternly, grabbing the girl's wrist.

Nilima froze. "Abigail!" she squealed. "I thought you were asleep!"

"I was – until someone started smacking me." She shook her head. "Nilima, you can't possibly be dense enough to think that someone will remain asleep while being spanked?"

"I was just curious what it would be like," she mumbled. "Your butt is so cute!"

Abigail grinned. "Thank you. However, I think we need to clear up a little misunderstanding – regarding WHO is going to be doing the spanking around here, and WHO is going to have her adorable little bottom smacked." Tightening her grip around Nilima's wrist, she sat down on the side of the bed, dragging the mischievous minx across her lap.

Abigail's adventures 2: Her flatmate (F/F story)

Abigail rubbed the seat of her jeans with a blissful smile on her face as she returned her flat after another lovely visit to the stern Mister Stokes. Isaac certainly knew how to spank a young lady – and how to treat her in the bedroom afterwards!

She expected to find her flatmate Nilima reading a book, or baking cookies, or drawing, or something like that. She did not expect to find the petite Indian girl spanking herself with a wooden spoon, but that was exactly what happened.

She heard the smacks as soon as she opened the door. Thinking that the sounds were quite familiar, she tiptoed over to Nilima's bedroom to have her suspicions confirmed. Sure enough – her flatmate was bent over her own bed, one hand reaching back to spank her own bottom with a large wooden spoon. She'd removed her skirt, and her panties were around her knees. Nilima moaned as she tapped the spoon lightly against her bare bottom. Abigail stifled a giggle; she guessed that the girl had never had a REAL spanking, if those taps were enough to make her fidget.

She watched the scene for several minutes, enjoying the sight as the girl continued to spank her own bottom. Finally, Abigail decided to knock on the door and make her presence known.

"Oh! Shit!" Nilima shrieked, spinning around.

"Please, don't stop on my account," Abigail said, grinning impishly. "Go ahead!"

"Abigail!" Nilima said, staring at her flatmate. "This… this isn't what it looks like!"

"Oh? You weren't spanking yourself?" Abigail said sweetly. "Then what were you doing? Playing music? Trying to swat a fly? Is this some new form of exercise I haven't heard of?"

Nilima opened and closed her mouth, trying to think of some excuse. "It's… I wasn't…. It's not…"

"You know, I hope you were planning to wash that spoon before placing it back in the kitchen," Abigail said with a teasing smile.

"It's not from the kitchen! I keep it here," Nilima assured her. "I would never make cookies with my spanking spoon! Don't be disgusting." She pouted, then suddenly realized what she'd said. "I mean – my… my massage spoon!"

Abigail's adventures 1: Meeting Isaac (M/F story)

First part of a short series I've written. 

Abigail could feel the familiar butterflies in her stomach as she followed the path up to Isaac's house. "Mister Stokes to some people, Isaac to my friends,” he often said, but for her, it was usually 'sir'.

Many months ago, when she'd moved here as a poor, bright-eyed student, she'd ended up with a part-time job tending to his garden and other menial tasks. He was a tall, bald, muscular man with dark eyes, and the first time she'd met him, she'd been almost speechless. There was something about the way he looked and acted that had made the red-headed student slightly weak-kneed, and for the first few days, she'd often found her thoughts drifting to him, wanting to know more about him. It was silly – he was almost old enough to be her father – but there was something about him that had caught her interest.

She'd worked for him for a few weeks when the incident occurred. She'd been given a lot of instructions when she started the job, more than she'd been able to remember, and he'd grown tired of her forgetfulness. One morning, he started lecturing her about arriving on time, and on working hard, and on following his instructions, or something to that effect. As he talked, she found herself once again lost in that deep voice and those piercing eyes.

She suddenly realized that he'd stopped talking and was looking at her impatiently. It seemed like he'd asked her a question, and that she'd have to come up with a fairly satisfying answer. In the end, she went with "Huh?”

"That does it,” Isaac had declared angrily, and he grabbed her arm and dragged her along. The next thing she knew, he'd sat down on a nearby bench, yanked her jeans down, and pulled her over his knee. She was completely stunned, unable to move a muscle until the first few smacks landed on the seat of her panties.

"Ow! What's going on?” she yelped.

"Be quiet, girl,” he'd told her. "I've told you time and time again to listen to my instructions, so now, I'm going to show you what happens when you don't.” As he scolded, his firm palm continued to spank her bubble butt, slamming like hard wood against her soft flesh.