It was the middle of summer, and I had found a hotel apartment near the beach. I had a brand-new and very cute bikini, and was going to spend the day reading at the beach and seeing if there were any cute boys around. This was shaping up to a be a very nice summer.
As I stood there planning my day, I heard a door open, and the guy in the apartment next to mine appeared. I glanced at him, and my jaw dropped. He was a tall guy, with a handsome face and long, dark hair. About a year or two older than me, I'd guessed. He was dressed in bathing shorts, and his chest revealed that he worked out regularly. I'd love to say that I sent him a confident and flirty look, but to tell you the truth, I think I may have drooled.
Whatever I did, it was apparently good enough, because he approached me. “Hi,” he said, beaming at me as he extended his hand. “I'm Jason.”
After a second or two, I'd regained enough of my faculties to shake his hand. “I'm Katherine,” I said. “But most people call me Kitty.” I watched him raise an eyebrow, and mentally cursed myself for telling him that last part.
“Cute,” he told me and nodded – which made me feel a lot better about myself.
“I was just going down to the beach,” I told him. “Care to join me?”
“I'd love to,” he said, flashing his pearly-white teeth at me.
We grabbed a couple of towels and walked along the beach chatting to each other for a while before stopping for an ice-cream. I told him that I was English, and had saved up my money for quite a while to afford a vacation like this. He was from Belgium, and in rather the same situation. He'd worked as a waiter for a while, was learning to play the guitar, and liked to read science fiction. To tell you the truth, I didn't catch as much of what he said as I'd have liked – I was too busy enjoying walking next to him, staring dreamily at him when he wouldn't notice.
A few hours later, we were playing with a beach ball in the sand. He threw it a little too hard at one point, and it flew just over my head. I ran to pick it up, but just as I bent my back and grabbed it, I heard something snap. I was still bent over, trying to figure out what it was, when I saw something touch down on the sand next to my feet. A shiver ran down my spine as I saw that it was the bottom of my bathing suit. It had snapped.
I was bent over, showing my bare butt to the cute boy I'd just met.
I'd love to say that I jumped to my feet, immediately covering up, but truthfully, I was too shocked to move. Seconds passed before I managed to get up, picking up my bikini bottoms and what remained of my dignity.
I managed to glance over at Jason, hoping that he'd done the gentlemanly thing and turned his eyes away. From the look on his face, I could tell he hadn't. He was staring at me, a bit too wide-eyed for my liking.
“Could you get my towel?” I asked in a tiny voice, covering myself with my hands as best as I could. I looked around. Luckily, this part of the beach was almost deserted, but someone could walk past at any moment, and I wasn't sure my reputation could survive that.
“Huh? Oh, sure,” he said, grabbing the towel and handing it to me. He finally turned his gaze away, and I wrapped the towel around my waist.
We walked back to the apartments in silence. I could tell that there was something on his mind, but whatever it was, I hoped he wouldn't say it. The damage was done, there was nothing he could say that could save my dignity, and trying could only make things worse.
“So, Kitty,” he said after a while. I mentally braced myself for whatever was about to come out of his mouth. “I couldn't help but notice that you looked a bit... pink.”
I frowned as I wondered just how much of me he had seen, but my eyes widened in horror when I realized what he meant.
“Like.... like you'd been spanked.”
I grimaced. I had forgotten all about that – the sting was long gone, with nothing but a little pinkness remaining.
“Is everything OK back home? Are you.... safe?” he said, concerned.
“Perfectly safe, yes, thank you for your concern, but it's nothing,” I told him, trying my fiercest to get him to change the subject.
“Who spanked you?” he asked. I briefly considered telling him that I had a strict, old-fashioned father, or a boss that dealt with tardiness in time-honoured ways, but I decided to tell him the truth.
“I did.”
“What?” he said, and I almost giggled at the lost and confused look on his face. I could do with a laugh right now.
I told him my story. How I'd always been fascinated by spanking when I spotted it in films or books, and how I'd felt a secret thrill when seeing some misbehaving lady being put across someone's knee. How I'd dreamt about actually getting a proper spanking, right on my bare bottom, but had never found someone to deliver it. And how, in the long nights of longing, I'd picked up my hairbrush and decided to help myself. It wasn't enough, but it was at least something.
“Wow,” he said at the end of my little tale. I'm sure it was a lot to process. But after a few seconds, he smiled down at me. “Hey, I'd like to be your friend. If you ever need a hand....”
Once again, I had to stop myself from giggling. He was taking this a lot better than I had expected.
A few minutes later, we were back at the apartments. “So, do you want to get dressed and go back to the beach, or do you want to rest for a bit?” I appreciated that he was trying to let me forget about what had happened. “We could go out to dinner later...”
“Actually,” I said as I opened the door. “I was wondering if you'd like to come inside?” I felt my face blush bright red. “I think I... need a hand with something....”
He grinned, and followed me into the apartment. I locked the door, to prevent anyone from barging in on what was about to happen. He sat down on the couch, and I walked over to him.
“I hear you've been a bad girl,” he said, trying to look strict. It didn't work very well.
“Maybe,” I said, biting my lip gently.
“And what happens to bad girls, Kitty?”
“They get spanked, sir,” I said, blushing bright red. I could barely say the word.
“Yes, they do.” He reached forward and took hold of my towel. I didn't resist as he tugged at it, letting it fall to the floor. He smiled with hungry eyes as I stood before him in nothing but my bikini top, before he gently grabbed hold of my arm and guided me over his lap.
'This is actually happening', I told myself. 'I am actually going across this cute boy's lap for a spanking'. I couldn't believe this. This day was turning out a lot better than I'd hoped.
His hand started to rub my bottom. I pushed it against his palm to encourage him, and he lifted his hand and gave me a gentle swat.
“Mmm,” I purred. “Keep going.”
He continued to rub, before giving me another gentle swat, this one to my other cheek. A bit of rubbing, before another swat landed.
He started to spank me properly, his hand covering my bottom with warm and stinging spanks. I moaned a little to let him know he was on the right track, wriggling my bottom enticingly. Suddenly, I gasped.
“Was that too hard?” he asked with concern in his voice.
“No, it's not that,” I said as I adjusted my position on his lap. “You're poking me in the ribs.”
He realized what I meant. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly.
I giggled. “Don't be,” I told him. “I'm glad you're enjoying this as much as I am.”
After a brief pause, he continued the spanking, and I started to squirm as the heat in my seat began to build up. I was moaning loudly now. I had dreamt about spankings for a decade, but actually being over someone's lap was better than I had ever believed.
Every slap of his hand lit another flame on my rear end, and after what seemed like hours, I asked him to stop. He helped me to my feet, and started to ask me something, but I grabbed his shoulders and kissed him. It was half a minute before I had to stop for breath. “Thank you!” I gasped. “That was.... thank you!” I kissed him again.
“So, do you want to rest for a bit? Should I get you an ice-pack or -” I placed my finger on his lips to shut him up.
“You have no idea what effect that had on me,” I told him. “Carry me into the bedroom, and I'll show you.”
We had a very late dinner that day.
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