Something to show you (F/F story)

 As I prepared to head home after school, I felt a hand on my shoulder and Jane beamed up at me, a secretive smile playing on her lips. Jane Salford was one of the girls in my class, and we'd become good friends over the last year or so. She was a short girl, very attractive, and intelligent. "I've something secret to show you, Braden. Care to come with me?"

"What is it?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

She shook her head. "If I told you, it wouldn't be a secret, would it? If you want to find out, you'd better come with me." Jane had always been a bit strange, and I knew whatever it was, it was something I wouldn't forget. So, why not?

15 minutes later, we were at a small house in the southern part of town. She knocked on the door to announce her arrival, but didn't wait for anyone to open before entering. I followed her into the living room, where a young woman was standing, waiting for Jane. She was tall, with long, brown hair, and wearing a blue cotton dress, but no shoes or socks. I'd say she was in her late twenties or early thirties. Her eyes widened when she spotted me.

"This is Braden. He's a friend of mine," Jane said. "You remember I told you we might have an audience today, Christine?"

The woman nodded. "Yes, Miss Salford, you mentioned that." I raised an eyebrow – I'd never heard Jane being called 'Miss' by anyone before, and hearing it from a woman who was more than a decade older than her sounded a bit strange.

"Why don't you sit down in the sofa?" she said to me with a friendly smile. "That will give you a very nice view of what's going to happen." I wanted to ask her what exactly was about to happen, but I knew that even if I got an answer out of her, it wouldn't be an answer that made any semblance of sense.

I sat down, and Jane moved closer to Christine, with a smile on her lips that was decidedly less friendly than the one she'd given me – unless the grin on a cat sneaking up on a cornered mouse can be described as friendly. The woman was about a foot taller than Jane, and more than a decade older, but there was no doubt that Jane was the one in charge.

"Have you been a good girl lately?" Jane asked her gently. When the woman shook her head, Jane suddenly glared at her." Speak up, girl!"

"N-no, Miss Salford, I haven't," Christine, squirming a little. She kept glancing over at me, as if she wanted me to go away. I just sat there and wondered what would happen next.

"No, you haven't, have you. You've been a bad girl. And what happens to bad girls around here?"

Christine looked over at me yet again, then back to Jane. Her eyes begged Jane to not force her to say it. But Jane was unmoved, and the woman took a deep breath. "They are spanked, Miss Salford."

I stared open-mouthed as the tall woman blushingly lowered her eyes. Had I heard that correctly? Was she really going to be SPANKED?

"That's right, Christine, they are spanked. Good and hard on their bare little bottoms." She picked up a large wooden chair that was leaning against the wall, and placed it in the centre of the room. She then looked at Christine. "Take off your dress."

Christine blushed as she reached for the zipper at the back of her dress. She moved slowly, and with a face as if she wanted to be a million miles away, but there was no hesitation or resistance – she'd been ordered to do it, and so, she did. She let the dress fall to the ground, picked it up and folded it, and placed it on the nearby table. She was now dressed only in her thin bra and panties, which were the same colour as her dress.

Jane, who was now sitting in the wooden chair, smiled encouragingly at her, before patting her lap. “Get your butt over my knee, girl.”

Christine walked over to stand at Jane's side, before gently lowering herself forward over the girl's lap. Her feet and hands were both touching the ground, with her backside lifted high over Jane's knee. Jane slowly rubbed her hand in circles on the pale flesh of Christine's cheeks, her face displaying a look of absolute glee. Suddenly, her palm delivered a firm smack that made Christine toss her head back in pain. It was followed by half a dozen equally firm smacks. I stared in wonder as Jane brought her hand slapping down on the backside in front of her, grinning maniacally as she moved her hand from cheek to cheek up and down her bottom. Christine was kicking her legs, trying to stop herself from moaning in pain. At least, I think it was pain.

It was surreal. Less than half an hour ago, we had sat in the classroom, listening to Miss Winters drone on about early Egyptian architecture, and now, I was watching my friend gleefully spank the daylights out of some adult woman I had never met before.

I felt a twinge of disappointment when Jane stopped the spanking and told her to get to her feet. Christine rubbed her bottom with both hands, dancing from foot to foot as she tried to get the sting under control. It was a very enjoyable sight, but to my surprise, it wasn't over yet.

“Take off your bra,” Jane told her. Without hesitation, Christine did as she had been ordered. She reached for her panties, but when she looked at Jane, the schoolgirl shook her head. “No, I want you to ask Braden to take them off.”

My eyes opened wide. Was I going to be part of this as well?

Christine walked over to the sofa, placing both hands firmly on her head before she looked down at me. “I have been a very bad girl and deserve a bare-bottom spanking. Please take my panties down.” She glanced over at Jane, probably to see if she had asked nicely enough, and breathed a sigh of relief when Jane gave a quick nod.

My hands were trembling like mad when I reached forward and placed my thumbs in the waistband of her panties. Slowly, savouring every second of the experience, I began to lower them, almost gasping as her pubic hair came into view. I'd never seen a real-life naked woman before, and it was a lot different than looking at a screen.

Soon, I had pulled the panties all the way down, just staring at the sight in front of me. Jane giggled – it seemed she found the look on my face quite funny, and I knew she'd tease for me later. I didn't care.

“Turn around, Christine. Let him have a look at your bottom.” She did as instructed, and even bent forward a bit to stick her bottom in my face. “Touch her, Braden. Feel how warm the skin is.” Christine didn't protest, so I reached forward and began to gently rub my hand over her bottom. Her skin was warm to the touch, and it felt wonderful to rub my hand all over it. At one point, I was rubbing between her sit spots when I could feel her growing tense, and I realized that my hand had moved too close for comfort. I pulled back, and Christine sighed. Was that a relieved sigh, or a disappointed one?

“Enough fun,” Jane said. While we were busy, she'd moved the chair back into its place along the wall. “Christine, I want you to stand in the centre of the room and grab your ankles.”

Christine did as instructed, and Jane walked over to her side, with the naked woman between me and her. “Are you ready for the last part of your spanking, Christine?”

“Yes, Miss Salford,”, she replied.

She yelped as Jane started to spank her, moving from cheek to cheek with a vigorous enthusiasm. Christine winced and grimaced, she hissed in pain and pleaded for mercy, but it fell on deaf ears. But no matter what Jane did to her bottom, she remained in position, her hands clutching her ankles and her bottom sticking out.

By the time Jane had finished, Christine's face was covered in tears, and bottom was bright red.

“Go stand in the corner and think about what you've done,” Jane told her. Christine moved into the closest corner, both hands locked firmly on her head and her nose touching the wall.

Jane sat down next to me. “Did you enjoy the show?” she asked me. I nodded.

I wanted to ask her how it had all started. How she'd met Christine. Why she had started spanking her. How a grown woman could bend over a schoolgirl's knee for a spanking, or ask a schoolboy to pull her panties down. But I knew that Jane wouldn't answer in a way that would actually tell me something. So, I just stared at the woman sobbing in the corner.

Jane put her arm around my shoulder. “So,” she said. “Do you want to go see a film this Saturday?”