Halloween tricks (m/F story)

Estelle grinned as she twirled in front of the mirror, admiring her reflection. Though she was approaching 40, she could still look good in the right attire, and the red devil costume in skin-tight spandex showed off her curves most admirably. She guessed that her bottom would receive a lot of looks at the Halloween party.

As she headed out the door, she watched a small group of teenagers standing outside her neighbours' house. When the first rolls of toilet paper started flying, a young man came outside to confront them, but they ran away as soon as he emerged. Bruce was her neighbours' son, quite big and strong, and she guessed he'd come home from college to protect his parents' property while they were out at some party. Part of her wanted to help him chase the delinquents away, but she had no intention of running in heels. Besides, if she had to admit the truth, she'd done far worse than throwing toilet paper when she was their age.


Several hours later, Estelle made her way back home. There had been a lot of booze at the party, so she was walking quite unsteadily, but she'd refused the host's offer to call her a taxi – she'd walked there, and she was going to walk home, no matter how her legs felt in these heels.

As she passed the neighbours' house, her gaze rested on the pumpkins on the porch. Not really a thing in this country when she was young, she reflected. She'd heard about American teenagers kicking them to pieces when out pranking, and she grinned at the thought. It seemed so fun! The memories of her own misdeeds as a youngster came back to her.

Before she knew what she was doing, she was heading up the stairs towards the closest pumpkin. She lifted her foot, driving the heel of her expensive shoe into the eye of the pumpkin. It made a quite satisfying "squelch" as she kicked it repeatedly, and she started to giggle from joy and drunkenness.

Suddenly, a firm hand closed around her wrist. She squealed, turning around to see a very tall, very strong, and very angry young man. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Bruce snarled.

"I'm sorry!" Estelle squeaked. "It was an accident!" She trembled under his angry gaze. She'd known Bruce since he was a little boy, and she had never considered him a particularly scary person – until right now.

"An accident?" he scoffed. "You mean that you ACCIDENTALLY walked up those steps and –" He stopped, staring at her. "Wait a second. I know you, don't I?"

"I don't think so," Estelle mumbled, shivering as she tried to avoid his gaze. Being caught playing childish pranks was embarrassing, but being recognized as his parents' neighbour would make the humiliation complete.

He continued to stare at her, before nodding his head. "You're one of Briana's friends, aren't you?"

Briana was Bruce's younger sister, still in high school. Estelle was quite surprised at being mistaken for a teenager by a college student, and was about to correct him, but managed to stop herself. If he thought that she was one of Briana's friends, he was less likely to suddenly realize who she really was. Instead, she nodded.

"What's your name?" he demanded.

"Ashlee," Estelle whispered. It sounded like something the young people today would be called.

"Right. Well, Ashlee, you're coming with me so that I can phone the police."

"The police!? Why?" Estelle stared at him in horror.

"Ashlee, you're on my prop- well, my parents' property. Committing vandalism," he scolded. "I'm also going to call your parents. They need to know what you're up to."

Estelle bit her lip. She tried to think of a way out of this mess that didn't involve telling him who she actually was. "Isn't there another way? I'll never do this again, I promise!" She looked at him with her best puppy-dog eyes. "Please don't call the police – or my parents!"

For a few seconds, he stared into her tearful eyes. Then, he sighed, seemingly coming to a decision. "Very well. If that's what you want, I think I can punish you myself."

A sight to behold (F/F story)

Candace looked back over her shoulder, grinning to her reflection in the floor-length mirror. The tall, thin blonde was wearing one of her shortest skirts, and if she went to school without panties again, she knew she would give the boys a sight to behold every time she stood up to answer a question – provided she leaned slightly forward, which she would. It amused her to think about how they'd be sitting in class, too distracted to focus on whatever the teacher was saying. She'd been called a tease more than once, but she had no problem with that. It was accurate, after all.

Now, she needed to pick a pair of shoes that matched the skirt – though obviously, that was something few of the boys would care about.


A few hours later, Candace was sitting in Ms Woods' maths class. When the teacher's gaze turned to Candace, the girl rose, leaned slightly forward in her usual manner, and delivered the right answer. As she stood there, she received the expected small gasp from behind her – but it was rather more high-pitched than she'd anticipated.

As soon as she could, Candace sat down and cast a subtle glance behind her; Benny, who'd been sitting behind her when she chose her seat, appeared to have moved to be closer to his girlfriend, and the vacant seat had been taken by Elaine, a small, slightly chubby brunette. The shy, quiet girl's face was scarlet, and Candace saw the same lustful look in her eyes that she often saw in the boys.

Candace paused, trying to collect her thoughts. She hadn't suspected that Elaine would have those kinds of urges, and she wondered what she should do with her new information. She'd had a lot of fun teasing the boys, but she'd never considered the possibilities of teasing GIRLS before. Maybe she should give it a try?

She spent the rest of the lesson trying to sort out her feelings on the matter, unable to focus on the maths. The irony of her distraction attempt backfiring entirely escaped her.

My neighbour and her daughter (M/F story)

The first time I met the teenaged daughter of the woman who had just moved in next door, she was stubbing out a cigarette on the hood of my car.

Josie was a lanky, blonde nineteen-year-old who wore ripped shirts and booty shorts, and was the sort of delinquent who loved annoying everyone older than her. When I yelled at her and demanded to know why she'd vandalized my car, she smirked and giggled at my expression, surprisingly unconcerned about a man twice her weight shouting at her. Nothing I said made her show the least bit of remorse, so I eventually gave up and decided to talk to her mother.

Later that evening, I rang the doorbell of the little home, where I was greeted by a plump woman in her late thirties whose hair was as long and blonde as her daughter's. Frances showed me into the living room and offered me a cup of tea, and I told her what had happened earlier in the day. The woman seemed justifiably upset, but to my disappointment, she was reluctant to deal with her daughter.

"I just don't know what to do," she sighed.

"She's your daughter, and living in your house," I pointed out. "Surely you've had to punish her before? Ground her, spank her, take away privileges?"

She shook her head. "It was my dear husband who handled those things. After he passed away…" She shook her head sadly. "I'm just not up to the task."

"And how long ago was it?" I asked, trying to keep my voice kind.

"A little over six years."

Six years. The girl had not been punished since she was thirteen. Suddenly, the fact that she'd grown up into a brat seemed less surprising. "But she vandalized my car! Deliberately! This cannot go unpunished!"

The woman nodded. "That's true. Would you be willing to deal with her? I think a good spanking could teach her a lesson."

The flatmate's boyfriend (M/F story)

As Ellie entered the flat, one large bag of groceries in each hand, she could hear high-pitched and indignant squeals coming from her flatmate's bedroom, accompanied by stern, deep scolding and some rather loud smacks.

"Spanked again?" she muttered to herself, grinning. "I wonder what she did this time." Ellie went to put the kettle on; she wanted a cup of tea as soon as possible, and considered it likely that one or both of the people in that bedroom wanted one as well.

When Paula first moved in, she and Rory had tried to keep their kink secret from her flatmate. He would only punish Paula if he thought Ellie was out of the flat, and he never made any obvious spanking threats while Ellie was in the room – just comments like "We'll discuss this later" or "I need to talk to you about that."

Eventually, however, they discovered that Ellie wasn't as blind as they thought she was, and that she'd known about their activities for some time. However, they also realized that Ellie didn't care what happened in Paula's bedroom, provided that it STAYED in the bedroom, and that they never made any inappropriate noise when she had visitors. The couple found these rules to be very sensible and easy to follow, so they readily agreed.

Now, about once per week, she would overhear Paula being scolded, bared from the waist down, placed face-down across her boyfriend's lap, and spanked until she was sobbing and promising to be good. Ellie found it strange, but harmless, as long as Paula consented – which she did, enthusiastically.

Ellie had been reading a book in the comfy chair for about half an hour when Rory entered the room. "Oh! Hi, Ellie. I didn't realize you'd come home. I hope we didn't –"

She waved it off. "I've told you before, don't worry about it." She sipped her tea. "What did she do this time?"

"Hm? Oh, she has an essay for one of her college classes. I asked her if she'd finished it, and she told me she hadn't – and she sassed me!"

Ellie chuckled. "Yes, she has a bit of a mouth sometimes, doesn't she? By the way, I put the kettle on when I arrived, but you should probably turn it back on if you want a cup. Do you think Paula will want one?"

Rory re-heated the kettle and poured himself a cup. "She probably does, but right now, she's standing in the corner and thinking about what she's done. I'll bring her one when her punishment's over. She can drink it while we cuddle."

Paula had once told her flatmate about her corner time punishments – she had to stand with her nose against the wall and her hands on her head, with her bare, burning bottom visible for anyone to see. It sounded extremely humiliating, but it was probably quite fun to watch. Ellie wondered idly if she'd ever see her flatmate being punished.

Loud music (M/F story)

Leyla was dancing on the couch of her new flat, singing along at full volume to the music as she shook her tail enthusiastically. Once or twice, she even came close to hitting the right note. Suddenly, she became aware that someone was knocking at the door. She opened it to find a tall, middle-aged man with a grumpy look on his face.

"You're Leyla, right?" he said, speaking loudly to be heard over the music. "I'm Dwayne. I live below you." His voice was surprisingly deep.

The student smiled. "Nice to meet you, Dwayne. How can I help you?" she said brightly.

"You can turn that music down," he responded calmly.

Leyla stared at him. "Hey! I don't turn my music down for ANYONE, mister!"

"It's late, and I have work tomorrow," he said with a sigh, his voice revealing how tired he was. "Is this your first time living in a flat, with neighbours above and below you?"

Before starting college, Leyla had been living in her parents' farmhouse – where the closest neighbours were hundreds of yards away.  However, she had no intention of admitting that to a man who'd just shown up at her door. "I'm not turning the music down," she said, folding her arms in front of her chest.

"You need to learn respect for others, young lady," the man scolded as he pushed past her, finding the volume control on her stereo and turning it down.

Leyla gaped at him, wondering what offended her more – that he would lay a hand on her stereo, or that he'd call her "young lady" like she was some misbehaving child. She was twenty-two! "Y-you ca-can't…" She discovered that right now, she was too indignant for words.

She reached for the volume control to turn it back up, but he grabbed her wrist. His hand felt like steel. "Young lady, I have half a mind to put you across my knee and tan your backside," he growled. "I suggest you don't provoke me any further."

Leyla stared open-mouthed at him. Had he just threatened to spank her? Had she suddenly ended up in the eighteenth century? As she looked at him, she became acutely aware of the fact that the stern-looking man was more than a foot taller than her, and probably twice her weight or thereabouts. She suspected that if he wanted to take her over his lap, he could easily do it.

A spanking! Her mouth was dry, and her heart was trying to beat its way through her chest as she pictured herself bent across his knee with her bottom in the air. He wouldn't actually do it, would he? These days, you didn't spank women you'd just met. As a blush spread across her cheeks, part of her wanted to apologize to him, another part wanted to give him attitude and see what he would do, and the rest of her wanted to run and hide in the bathroom.

Before she'd made her mind up, he'd left her flat, closing the door quietly behind him.

Leyla spent some time sitting on the couch, his words replaying in her mind repeatedly as she pictured his bearded face glaring down at her. There was fascinating about her big, stern, scary neighbour, and she wondered what it would feel like to be punished by him…

Talking in the cinema (M/F story)

In the darkness of the movie theatre, Gwen leaned over to her boyfriend, saying "I can't believe they put the actress in that dress. Have you seen anything so ugly?"

"Ssh! No talking during the movie, remember?" Logan whispered back, as quietly and kindly as he could.

"And that makeup!" She pretended not to have heard him. "I wonder if it was the same person who committed both offences."

"People are trying to watch the movie," he whispered, slightly less kindly now.

She rolled her eyes. "It's a boring movie!"

"Shh! And you're the one that really wanted to watch it," he pointed out, still whispering.

Unable to think of a retort, Gwen sighed and leaned back in her chair.

A few minutes later, Logan leaned over to her. "Put your phone away," he whispered.

"Now YOU'RE the one talking," she replied sullenly – though just as loud as before.

"The light from your screen is distracting the people behind you. Put it away."

"I'm bored, so I'm going to check Instagram."

"You are going to put that phone away and be quiet, or I'm going to take you outside and put you over my knee – at which point you can make all the noise you want," he whispered in her ear.

Gwen froze, her eyes wide while a cold shiver ran down her back. Hurriedly, she placed the phone in her pocket. She knew Logan did not make idle threats. She prayed that no one had overheard him, but the whispers of the surrounding moviegoers dashed her hopes.

"Did you hear that? I think he threatened to spank her!"

The misaddressed emails (M/F story)

Melanie bit her lip as she looked at her boss, who was sitting behind his desk with a stern expression on his face. "I can only apologize for the mix-up, Mr Garner," she said. The tall, young redhead did her best to look as sorry as she felt.

"That sounds very good," Mr Garner replied as he steepled his fingers. The dark-haired, clean-shaven man seemed to be very good at looking disappointed. "But this isn't the first time, is it? Sending an email to the wrong company is bad enough, but to send a confidential contract…" He sighed. "I had to have to make some real apologies here."

She hung her head.

"Nothing more to say, Melanie?" he asked.

Melanie tried to think of something that could make the situation better. 'I am very sorry'? 'I'll do better'? 'My work will be exemplary from now on'? She couldn't think of anything that didn't sound trite. She opened her mouth, intending to say something like "I'll be a good worker", but to her horror, the words that emerged were "I'll be a good girl, I promise!"

As soon as she realized what she'd said, Melanie let out a small squeak, placing both hands in front of her mouth while blushing bright red. She stared at the floor as if hoping it would swallow her up, and it took some time before she dared look up at her boss.

Mr Garner was leaning back in his chair, doing his best to hide an amused smirk. "Well, that's…" It was clear he was trying to think of an acceptable response. "Well, that's good to hear, Melanie. You may return to your desk."

As she forced herself to walk calmly out of the room, barely resisting the urge for headless flight, she could hear him chuckle quietly.

Melanie let out a deep sigh as she sat down at her desk. She'd made a fool of herself in front of Mr Garner yet again! Her boss was only five or six years older than her, but he had a quiet confidence and self-assurance that made him feel older than that. He was kind and considerate, but when she disappointed him, he would look at her and speak to her in a tone that made her tummy do flipflops.

He was a good-looking man, too, and Melanie hated it when she looked incompetent or childish in front of him. She wanted so badly to impress him!

Chrissy and Tess (F/ff, f/f story)

Chrissy hissed in pain as the slipper once again smacked down on the seat of her panties. "Five, Miss," the stout, curvy redhead said with a wince, grabbing the other end of the desk to resist the urge to protect her bottom. She knew Miss Henley would not approve of that.

"You may get up now, Christine," Miss Henley said. The middle-aged teacher was tapping the slipper against her palm. "You may also lower your skirt, if you wish."

Chrissy rose and pulled the hem of her uniform skirt down over her white cotton panties, rubbing her bottom gingerly. She then moved to stand next to Tess at the front of the empty classroom.

"Now, I don't think either of you will be sending notes in my class for a while, will you, girls?" Miss Henley said with a wink.

"No, Miss Henley," the two teenagers replied in chorus, doing their best to sound remorseful.

The teacher seemed on the verge of dismissing them, when Tess leaned towards her friend and whispered in her ear: "Wow, the old lady must be getting soft in her dotage. I barely felt that!"

Chrissy froze, trying to keep her expression neutral, while hopefully making it perfectly clear that SHE had not said a word. From the expression on their teacher's face, Chrissy guessed that Miss Henley had overheard the remark. Tess was not always as quiet as she should be.

"Would you care to repeat that, Theresa?" Miss Henley said sweetly.

"Me, Miss?" The lanky brunette almost looked innocent. "I said nothing, Miss."

Miss Henley sighed. "I'm not as old as you think I am, Theresa. But if you feel that your spanking was not hard enough, I'm sure I can satisfy you. Bend over the desk again."

Tess' eyes widened, and her hands reached back to clasp her bottom protectively. "Oh! Please, no, Miss!"

"That wasn't a question, Theresa, it was an order. Bend over the desk – you should know the position quite well by now."

With an expression of apprehension on her face, Tess inched forward. She leaned over the desk and grasped the other end as if she'd done this hundreds of times before, though in truth, it had only been a few dozen. "I'm ready, Miss," she announced, with only a slight trembling in her voice to reveal her nervousness.

"Not quite ready yet, I'm afraid," Miss Henley replied drily as she raised the girl's uniform skirt, tucking the hem into the waistline. She then moved her hands to Tess' panties. "I think since I'm so old and feeble, these will have to come down, so you can feel it properly."

Writing deserved spankings (non-story)

Unfortunately, I still have little time for writing stories, but decided to at least upload something.

 

One of the rules I write by is that punishments should feel earned. I occasionally read a story or see a captioned image and think "That spanking is an overreaction." Obviously, this only applies to punishment spankings - fun spankings never need a reason, and unfairness can sometimes make them even more fun. In some stories, the unfairness is meant to be the point, where we sympathize because the spankee suffers something undeserved, but often, the author is just stricter than I am, or not worried about the fairness.

 

One common theme is a maid that is spanked for dropping a plate while washing up, or smashing a vase while dusting. That's just an accident that could happen to anyone, and should not earn her a punishment. But if I wanted to write a story like that, how would I do it?

Hiatus

It's possible some readers have wondered when the next story is coming. I usually upload one story per week, but it's been three weeks since my last update.

 

I always try to have a buffer, in case I'm unable to write for a time. I hoped to fill my buffer during Easter, but ended up helping family and being too busy to write. I have managed to write in the weeks after, but for the last two weeks, I've had too much going on. I planned on spending this weekend writing, to fill my buffer and get back on track. Then, I got sick.

 

Next week might be busy, and after that, I'm going on vacation, and the surroundings might not be conducive to writing. Hopefully, the next update will be soon, but I cannot make any promises.

 

Also, I have some sequels I have planned to write, but I haven't prioritized them. There will be new stories in the "Sylvia" series, as well as sequels for "The new butler" and "Disciplining her flatmate".

The millionaire's assistant (M/F story)

Lauren, who was a lanky blonde in her late thirties, had worked as a personal assistant for Mr Steel, the charismatic multi-millionaire, for more than three years now. The job was demanding, but not unrewarding – and one of those perks was that she got to spend time with her attractive boss.

Ash Steel was a tall, handsome bachelor with a thick head of copper hair. He was rapidly approaching fifty, but his exercise regime meant he had a body that many men half his age would envy him. He was charming and kind, and he remembered little details about his employees; he had a way of making them all feel seen and appreciated.

However, he also had high standards, and on the rare occasions when Lauren failed him, she would be called into his office, where she would stand in front of his desk as he scolded her. His stern tone and gaze made her blush and squirm like a schoolgirl standing before the principal, but if she had to tell the truth, she would have preferred the lectures to happen far more often.

There was just something about being scolded by the attractive man that made her feel pleasantly lightheaded, and in her private moments, she felt a tingling between her legs as she wondered what would happen if she pushed him too far. She imagined him furrowing his brow in disappointment and declaring that she needed to be punished.

In her dreams, he would state that the only way she could keep her job was if she went over his lap for a good, hard spanking. She would blush and whimper, pleading for mercy, but he would be unrelenting. In the end, she would have no choice but to bend over his lap for a well-deserved dose of strict discipline. He would spank her long and hard on her bare bottom as she bawled and twisted over his lap, until she had no more tears left to cry. Then, he would feel sorry for the sobbing young lady, and he would carry her to his bedroom for some soothing lotion – followed by a long night of passion.

Obviously, this would never happen in real life. Mr Steel was not a man to take advantage of his employees, and if she truly failed him, he was far more likely to fire her than to spank her. Not that Lauren would ever do anything worthy of such measures – she didn't even dare to deliberately misbehave for the lectures, so they only happened when she actually deserved them. However, every stern word from his lips was a gift that she would treasure in his heart.