Shrinked scientist (F/F story)

"Doctor Mason, I'm heading into town. Do you need me to buy anything?" Eileen called out as she poked her head into her boss' makeshift laboratory, which had previously been Eileen's garage. When there was no reply, she had a quick look. "Doctor Mason, are you in here? Oh, I hope she hasn't gone for a walk again," she said to herself. "At her new height..."

She grabbed her coat and went out to search for her former employer.

Eileen Blackwood was about five foot high, with short brown hair that she often wore in pigtails. She was dressed in jeans and a white top. For the last few years, Eileen had worked for Doctor Rachel Mason, an accomplished scientist that had done some work on shrinking and enlarging radiation. Rachel was a demanding boss, but being her assistant had given Eileen some excellent experiences that would greatly aid her career.

But about a month ago, Doctor Mason had suffered an accident in the lab, and her once five-foot-six form had been reduced a height of a little more than two feet.

Initially, Eileen had wanted to call someone – some colleagues that could help, some medical professionals to have a look – but Doctor Mason had told her not to. She’d ignored quite a few proper safety precautions during that last test, and if anyone learned how careless she’d been with her own safety, she’d probably lose all her funding, not to mention the respect of her peers.

In the end, the pair had decided to head to a house in the country that Eileen had recently inherited from her great aunt. The house had a garage that was large enough for Doctor Mason’s expensive equipment, so that she could continue her experiments and turn herself back to normal. In addition, the house was remote enough that no one would know what was going on, and Rachel’s secret would be safe.


"Doctor Mason?" Eileen called out as she wandered to the nearest woods. "Are you out here?"

She’d been searching for half an hour now, and had seen no sign of her. She was beginning to get worried. Suddenly, she heard a faint voice.

"Eileen! Thank the heavens you’re here! Help me!"

She quickly followed the voice to find her employer lying in a ditch, trying to fend off the neighbour’s German shepherd. The dog seemed quite curious with its new discovery. Mason had always been afraid of dogs, and at her new height, they were even more terrifying.

"Go home, Rex," Eileen said as she waved the dog away. "Go home! That’s a good boy." She turned to Rachel. The woman’s entire outfit was covered in mud – her lab coat, black trousers, and dark grey suit jacket were all dripping wet. And getting those clothes for her current size had not been easy.

"Can you walk back, or do you want me to carry you?" Eileen said. The thought of picking up the mud-covered woman didn’t particularly appeal to her at the moment.

"I’ll walk, thank you," Doctor Mason said, doing her best to hold her head high and seem dignified. It wasn’t particularly convincing.

When they were back at the house, Eileen told her boss to enter the old woodshed at the back.

"But I have to go shower now!" Rachel protested.

Eileen shook her head. "I’m not having you track mud all over the house, or getting all that filth in the drains. I’m the one that’ll have to clean all of that up, you know. There’s a tub in the shed, and I can heat up some water. We’re doing this the old-fashioned way. Go into the shed and strip."

Blushing, Doctor Mason did as she was instructed. A few minutes later, Eileen arrived with the warm water, and began to fill up the tub. Rachel held her hands in front of her crotch and chest, trying her best to preserve what remained of her dignity. When Eileen was finished, she picked up her employer and dropped her in the water.

"What are those for?" Rachel said, nodding to the sponges and bath brush that Eileen had brought.

"The sponges are for getting some of this mud of you."

"And the brush?"

"You’ll find out afterwards," Eileen said ominously. Doctor Mason’s backside began to tingle. She had a horrible feeling she already knew what that vicious-looking brush would be used for.


A week after the accident, Rachel had been having a bad day, and was throwing a tantrum – throwing things, cursing at her assistant, and generally being in a terrible mood. Eileen had done her best to be understanding, but when one of Doctor Mason’s notebooks bounced off her shoulder, she lost her patience. She grabbed the little woman, carried her over to a nearby chair, sat down, and plopped her over her knee. She’d then pulled Rachel’s trousers and panties down to her knees, before beginning to spank her naked bottom. The doctor had been shouting her head off, cursing and pleading as she struggled to break free, but Eileen had easily held her in place as she continued to spank. By the time she was allowed to get up, Rachel’s backside was bright red and felt as if she’d sat in a campfire.

Rachel jumped from foot to foot as she rubbed her burning backside, sobbing uncontrollably. "I’ll call the police on you!" she shouted.

Eileen had just shrugged. "Fine. Here’s my phone," she said, handing Rachel her cell phone. "I assume you know the number."

Rachel had taken the phone, but started to reconsider. Calling the authorities would alert everyone to her current predicament. Everyone would know about her accident and the carelessness that led to it, and it would be the end of her academic career. She handed the phone back and pulled up her panties and trousers, wincing as the cloth dug into her sore backside. "Fine. But I’m assuming this won’t happen again?"

Eileen shook her head. "You assume wrongly. I’ve grown tired of your whining, and your tendency to blame everyone but yourself. It was YOUR impatience that got you into your mess, and as long as you’re living under my roof, it’s YOUR butt that’s going to end up over my knee if you don’t behave yourself. Got that?"


"I think we’re just about done here," Eileen said, putting the sponge down. Rachel blushed. Eileen had insisted on helping her clean herself, and had rubbed that sponge over every single part of her body until it was squeaky clean. She felt tired, and just wanted to lie down and cry. But as she glanced over at the intimidating bath brush on the floor, she had a feeling she’d soon have something else to cry about.

"Ah," Eileen said as she followed Rachel’s gaze. "That’s right, we still have to discuss the matter of your little excursion." She folded her arms and glared down at Rachel. "What exactly were you thinking, wandering off like that? The woods are not safe at your height. You don’t know the area, either – what if you’d gotten lost? Heck, what if someone found you? If you want to keep your predicament a secret, you’re not doing a great job. If you wanted to go for a walk, I could have gone with you."

"I’m sorry," Rachel said. "I just wanted to be alone with my thoughts. I didn’t think –"

"Heh. You’re right about that. You didn't think." Eileen sat down on a wooden chair, laid a dry towel over her knees, and placed the bath brush near the chair. She then patted her lap. "Come here, Rachel."

Rachel climbed out of the tub. On shaking legs, she slowly approached her scowling assistant. When she was close enough, Eileen helped the woman climb over her lap, then pushed her forward to lift her bottom up. The loud smack of her hand against Rachel’s backside was followed by a surprised gasp from the woman. As Eileen began to spank her employer in earnest, Rachel was soon kicking her legs and yelping in pain.

Eileen’s hand was large enough to cover both of Rachel’s cheeks in a single slap, and she moved up and down her backside, making sure to cover every inch. After a few minutes, she stopped long enough to pick up the bath brush.

"Oh no!" Rachel gasped as the cold wood rubbed against her cheeks. "Please, Eileen, don’t you think it’s enough? I’ve learned my lesson, I promise!"

"I believe you," Eileen said calmly. "But I want this lesson to STICK, don’t you?" And she lifted the brush.

As the loud crack of wood on flesh rang out in the shed, Rachel howled. She tried to get away, but Eileen held her down with one hand as the other continued its assault on her backside. Soon, Rachel was sobbing and pleading, promising her anything she wanted if only she’d stop spanking her.

By the time Eileen put the brush back down, Rachel’s bottom was bright red and beginning to blister. She cried as Eileen held her close, rubbing her back and telling her that the punishment was over.

She soon carried Rachel back to the house, where the accomplished scientist would be having a nap on her stomach while her assistant headed to town.

Up the stairs (F/m story)

The winter I turned sixteen, I spent a few weeks living in my aunt's apartment. I didn't have too many friends there, so I felt a bit lonely, but one thing made things a lot better.

Her name was Lara, a tall redhead about ten years older (and I knew well enough not to ask). She had great curves, and she was never scared to show it off. She was always wearing short skirts, but unfortunately, you couldn't see QUITE enough if you walked behind her. Luckily, her apartment was in the same building as my aunt's, with the same stairs, so if I hung back and let her go first, I could follow her up the stairs and look up her skirt – and I did, more than once. Much more.

This was a Tuesday, and to my pleasure, I arrived home at the same time as her. "After you," I told her, trying to seem like a little gentleman – a role I had some experience with. She didn't smile at me, like she usually did when I did these little gestures. In fact, she looked annoyed. This lit up something of a warning bell in my head. Something was wrong, and I didn't know what, so the wise thing to do was to get out of there. Of course, since there was a chance I'd get a good look at her backside if I stayed, the choice was easy.

She started up the stairs, and I followed, and as I hoped, her skirt was short enough to give me a good look of a delicious backside in a pair of none-too-modest panties. These glimpses were the highlight of my day.

She reached the top of the stairs, and after she'd unlocked her apartment, she turned around to glare at me. "Alan, do you think I'm stupid?" she said angrily.

"What?" I said confused. "No! Why do -"

Her hand shot forward, grabbing my earlobe, and I cried out; she could really pinch. "Don't try to be clever, you little pervert," she said. "You think I haven't noticed you staring at my ass? You're not subtle, boy. You're far from subtle. Luckily, I know just what to do."

She pushed the door to her apartment open, dragging me in by the ear. Resisting was in no way an option.

"Think you're clever, boy?" she said as she pushed me into the living room, letting go of my ear. I rubbed it gingerly. "Well, your little stunt just earned you a good spanking, young man."

"What?" I said. "A spanking? You can't -"

"Can and will, little man." She pulled out a dining room chair, sitting down on it. "You've stared at my ass for days, it's high time I saw yours – and I think I want it in red." She patted her lap. "Drop your shorts and underpants and bend over my knees." I hesitated, and she added: "Or do you want to add to your punishment? Want me to get my hairbrush?"

I'd never been spanked before, much less with a hairbrush, but some of my friends back home HAD, and they'd spoken about the hairbrush as if it was some ancient evil from the dawn of the Earth or something. I was fairly sure I didn't want to feel it. I unbuttoned my shorts, pulling them down past my knees, before leaning forward. She stopped me, and gave my bottom a quick slap. "Underpants too, young man." I blushed, but did as she instructed.

"Now," she said, patting my cheeks as I laid bare-bottomed over her lap. "I think a childish punishment like this fits your childish actions as of late." She raised her hand and started spanking.

I gasped as the burn spread through my cheeks , and I tried to stand up. "Stay in position, sport," she said, holding me down. She giggled. "Not used to being spanked, are you? Not to worry. Before this is over, you'll have had a proper introduction."

She kept spanking me in silence. At least, she was silent; I was letting out yelps of pain every time her palm landed on my poor bottom. I would never have believed that her hand could hurt as much as it did.

About ten minutes later, I'd given up on holding the tears back, and I was crying openly. It did nothing to lessen the punishment; if anything, it seemed to egg her on to spank harder. I kicked my legs, but she lifted her right leg, wrapping it around mine, so I couldn't move them. I She also grabbed my hands with her left, making sure I didn't reach back. With my hands and feet held firmly in place, there was nothing I could do but cry and beg, and I did plenty of both.

I have no idea how long I was over her lap, but by the time she pulled me to my feet, it felt like she had ironed my bottom. I tried to rub the sting away, but she slapped my hands. "Not yet," she said. "Go stand with your face to the wall. Hands on your head, no rubbing. I think a bit of time left to think will do you a lot of good."

I spent the next thirty minutes facing that wall, wanting with all my heart to reach back and rub my sore cheeks, but terrified of the consequences should I do so.

This even left me with a very difficult choice. Should I stop trying to stare at her ass, giving up that lovely sight forever? Or should I continue, a little more stealthily in the future, with all the dangers that involved? Good question.

Adjusted (M/F story)

Susan did her best puppy-dog eyes, staring up at her boyfriend. "Please? I need you to do this. For me?"

Benjamin sighed, shaking his head. "We've talked about this, Susan."

"Why not?" she said, leaning against him, feeling his warmth against her as they laid in bed. "Why won't you spank me?"

"It's weird, Susan. It's weird and it's dangerous. Why don't you just get that idea out of your head? It's not going to happen."

Once again, she'd failed to convince him. She wasn't too surprised; he'd never understood how important it was for her, the pain, the humiliation, the complete loss of control, the feeling of someone else holding her responsible. When she was younger, she'd told herself she'd never get involved with someone that couldn't satisfy that part of her.

That was before she met Ben. He was handsome, intelligent, and kind. He shared her love of literature, her weakness for Chinese food, and he loved her as much as she loved him. Perfect in every way, but one.

But there had to be a way. There must be some way to get him to give her the spanking that she wanted – no, needed!

Four weeks later, he knelt by the car, examining the damage. "It's not that bad, is it?" she said. "I mean, it can be fixed, can't it?" She could see his hands trembling a little in rage, and took a step back. He didn't seem too interested in talking to her right now.

"This is more than scratched paint," he told her, trying his very best to remain calm. "It'll have to be at the mechanic's for at least a month, if not more. "He glanced up at her, his voice strangely calm, but his eyes betrayed his emotions. "Do you have any idea how much harder you just made those four weeks? Getting to work, grocery shopping?"

She bit her lip, tears at the edges of her eyes. He turned around and stepped back inside, heading to the basement to brood. She knew better than to disturb him in moments like these.

She headed upstairs to change out of her work clothes, wishing there was a way to calm him down, to get him to forgive her. As she opened the closet, her eyes fell on the long, flat package at the back. She smiled to herself. Maybe there was.

He was sitting in his favourite chair, reading his favourite book, when he heard her walking down the stairs behind him. She walked to his side, looking down at him, but he ignored her, focusing on the book. As the minutes passed, and she stood at his side, saying nothing, he finally looked up. "What?" he snapped.

She bit her lip, her face quite pale as she stood before him, dressed in her business skirt with her hands behind her back. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm sorry that I dented the car, I'm sorry that I was careless."

He was surprised to hear her call him "sir", but he still glared at her. "Sorry isn't good enough, Susan," he said, trying to return to his book.

"I know, sir. That's why I think you should punish me." And she handed him the paddle that she'd been holding behind her back. He took it, grabbing the handle as he stared at the thick wood. The words "Attitude Adjuster" was written across the board. It was one of the things she'd brought from her own apartment. He'd always found it weird. But right now, the thought of Susan bent over, crying in pain as he painted her bare cheeks red with the hard wood, was more appealing than it had ever been.

"You know what?" he said, standing up. "I think so too."

She smiled, grateful, but nervous, and more than a little bit scared.

She walked over to the writing desk they'd placed in the corner, flipping her skirt up before bending over the desk. As she hadn't been wearing panties, she knew she had to make a very inviting target. She heard him step up behind her, patting the paddle against his palm. "You're going to think twice before you're that careless again," he told her. "I'm going to make sure of that."

She cried out in pain as the first stroke of the paddle made contact with her rear end. She'd been paddled before, by boyfriends in college, but that had always been erotic games. Ben was angry, and he wasn't playing. He was punishing her. And she had asked him to do it.

Ben lifted the paddle again and again, raining strokes down on the wriggling bottom in front of him as Susan yelped in pain. "I won't have you being careless," he told her. "The car is not important. What if YOU had been hurt?" He took a deep breath, steadying his voice before continuing. "Did you even consider, for the briefest of moments, what would happen if you'd been injured? Or killed?"

Susan was in no state to answer him, so she cried instead, wailing as her bottom turned redder and redder. At last, when the rear end in front of him had turned crimson, and Susan had no more tears left, Ben dropped the paddle, letting it fall to the floor. He helped her up, and they hugged, her head against his chest.

"So, still mad about the car?" she said once she'd calmed down a bit.

"No," he said. "Are you ok?" he said, his voice full of concern. She could tell that he regretted his anger.

"I'll live," she told him, "But I'll have to stand through dinner for a week or so."

She picked up the paddle, handing it to him. "Why don't you keep this somewhere safe, and close?"

He took it. "Yes. I have a feeling I'll use it again."

She shuddered. Whether from fear or delight, she didn't know.

Lazy (M/f story)

 There are some days where there's just a lot harder to get anything done. All you want to do is relax your mind with a game, a book or a film, and forget about the things you're SUPPOSED to do. Everyone has those days, and today, Kate had hers. She was lying on the bed, playing some game she had bought the week before. There were only two problems. One was that she was supposed to be studying for her exam the next day.

The loud knocking on her door was caused by the other problem. Her big brother Ryan. Ryan, who was a little more hardworking than his sister, had made it clear that as long as she stayed in his house, she would either shape up or face the consequences.

"Hey, sis, I'm heading into town on an errand. Want me to get anything?"

"Not right now, thanks."

"By the way, aren't you supposed to be studying?"

The tone in his voice made her butt tingle, so she paused the game and turned around to look at him. "I was just taking a break. Five minutes, I promise, and I'll go back to work."

"I'll be back in about half an hour. If you haven't turned off the game by then, we're going to have a little talk."

As she heard her brother drive off, Kate decided to save at the first available checkpoint. She had been through quite a lot of Ryan's little talks, and had no interest in another one.

But she was in a particular interesting part of the story, and she didn't want to turn off the game just yet. The next checkpoint after that wasn't far off, and her brother wouldn't be back for half an hour. That was LOADS of time!

If Kate had heard Ryan's car pull into the garage, she could still have saved her butt. But the first sign that her time was up was the knock on the door, and by then, it was far too late. Ryan entered, not looking particularly happy. Kate got to her feet, looking down at the floor as she waited for the lecture about to commence.

"I thought you were going to start studying soon."

"I was! Just a small break, I'll start studying now."

"No. First, we'll have that discussion I promised you."

Kate shivered slightly. "But Ryyaaaan, I'll start working right away, I promise!"

"You should have been working earlier today. You should have been working yesterday. Now, you're going to pay for that laziness."

"But Ryan, I-"

"No buts, Kate. Take down your jeans."

Kate hated this part. Ryan felt that by making her bare her own bottom, he forced her to accept her punishment, and, by extension, take more responsibility for her actions. Kate felt that Ryan was being a big meanie, and should be nicer to her.

With her jeans and panties around her ankles, Kate picked up a pillow and placed it in the middle of the bed. She then laid down, placing the pillow under her stomach, pushing her bottom up to take her punishment. She heard Ryan slowly pull his belt out of the loops. Kate had yet to hear a scarier sound than that. Ryan stepped forward, placing a hand on her raised, bared buttocks. “Kate, why am I punishing you?”

Kate sighed. “Because I was goofing off and playing games when I should be studying.” She had a great number of sarcastic answers that she wanted to give instead, but knew that a smart mouth would only earn her extras.

The belt whipped through the air, landing across Kate's rear end. Shortly thereafter, it landed again. And again. Ryan whipped hard and fast. The lecture was over, and the true punishment had begun. Kate buried her face in the bed, muffling her pained exclamations.

Again and again, the belt landed, the leather biting deeply into Kate's bottom. Ryan spaced the licks out, but for some reason, the lower parts of her bottom stayed unbelted. When her bottom had turned pink, he reached forward and touched Kate's shoulder. She turned to face him, hope and confusion clear in her eyes; it couldn't be over already? Most of her whippings were twice as long.

“I know you need to be able to sit tomorrow, but it isn't right to let you off the hook. Therefore, I'm giving you a choice. Either we finish the licking right now, and I promise not to hit your sit spots. It will be hard to sit tomorrow, but you'll survive.” Kate didn't like this option very much.

“Or, we stop for today, and tomorrow, after the exam, you take the rest of the whipping – with a couple of extras. I will concentrate on your sit spots, meaning that sitting the next few days will be difficult. Your choice.”

Kate didn't like either option very much. She weighed the pros and cons of both, but decided that she couldn't spend her exam worrying about the licking she would get. It would be better if the entire belting was behind her. She looked up at him. “I'll take option one.”

Ryan nodded, and lifted the belt again.

The smacks came hard and fast, and Kate cried out in pain. After a short while, her bottom was turning red, and she was begging between sobs. At last, when she was sure she couldn't take any more, Ryan put the belt away and gathered her in for a hug.

After letting her cry against his shirt for a while, he headed off to put away the things he'd bought in town. Before leaving, he warned his sister. “I'll be back in ten minutes. If you haven't placed your nose in a book by then, I'm placing it in the corner, and giving you another dose of the belt.”

Kate stood up, and went over to the mirror to study her bottom. True to his word, her sit spots were as pale as ever. The rest of her bottom, however, wasn't such a pretty sight. She gingerly touched the flesh with the tips of her fingers, and made three promises.

The first one was to put away the game until after exams.

The second was to start studying right away, not wanting to risk another belt spanking.

The third was to find one of her skirts to wear tomorrow, because there was no way she was putting on jeans.

Speeding (F/M story)

Peter Reid was quite used to speeding tickets. He had a fast car, and firmly believed that it entitled him to drive as fast as he could. The police, unfortunately, had a different view. As a result, he had more speeding tickets than anyone else in the state. And right now, he realized, he was about to earn another one.

As he pulled over and waited for the cop to come over to the car, he realized that he knew her; it was officer Taylor, an old friend. He had even flirted with her a couple of times, and she didn't seem to be unresponsive. He could smooth talk his way out this. He'd done it before.

"Hello, officer. Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"

"Drop it, Peter. It's not going to work this time." Her tone was quite rough; this wasn't going to be as easy as he had first thought.

"What? I'm just -"

"You're trying to talk your way out of the ticket. Well, I've seen how little you care about those. It isn't like you can't pay them. But I have good news and bad news. The good news is that you aren't getting a ticket. The bad news is, you're getting something else, and you're not talking your way out of that. Get out of the car."

He decided to do as she said. There was something in her voice, something more commanding than usual. She told him to stand next to the hood, and he did so. What happened next, however, was quite a shock. She reached her hands forward and undid his trousers!

He reached his hands down to stop her, but she slapped them away. He couldn't figure out what was happening, and he didn't like it one bit. She pulled his trousers and underpants down, leaving him completely bare! She then pushed him forward, making him lean over the hood of the car.

"Hey, what's the – OW!"

As an answer, officer Taylor had slapped his bottom quite hard. She gave him a dozen more slaps, all harder than the previous. "Isn't it obvious? No matter what we do, it doesn't seem to affect your speeding. Well, I believe that a sore bottom might change that!"

He tried to get up, but she held him down with her left hand while her right hand worked on his bottom.

"Hey, we're still by the roadside! Anyone passing by can see this! Let me up!"

"Not a chance. Let them see. And you're not getting up until I say so."

And she kept spanking until his bottom was nice and pink. She bent down to his trousers, and Peter breathed a sigh of relief that it was over.

But to his surprise, she picked up his belt and stood back up. What was going on? Suddenly, he realized what she was planning. “No! Please, I've had enough, don't -”

“Obviously you haven't, or you'd realize that I'M the one that says when this is over. Perhaps a dose of the belt will make you see the errors of your ways.”

The belt whipped through the air, landing with a mighty CRACK! Then came several more. Peter laid across the hood of the car, too afraid of the consequences to stand up and too out of breath to speak.

Officer Taylor noticed that as Peter's bottom became redder, his behaviour and tone of voice bettered. Good, she thought. Her initial judgement had proven correct. This could prove to be quite a good way of dealing with this overgrown brat. Besides, he did have a cute butt.

By the time she put down the belt, Peter was crying hard. She helped him to his feet, and pulled his underpants and trousers back up. She gave him a hug to calm him down, and told him to get on his way. He eased his way down on the car seat, and officer Taylor delivered one last warning.

“Remember, all of the cops know to notify me if they catch you speeding. If that happens, I'll come round to your house with a hairbrush. Believe me, you don't want that to happen.”

A New Tutor (F/f story)

For some reason, my math scores really dropped the year I turned fourteen. Before that, I had gotten mostly A's and a few B's, and was quite happy. But that year, all I got C's or D's. It wasn't a new teacher that didn't like me; I had the same teacher as the previous years. It wasn't that I worked any less; I did the same amount of work as previously. But for some reason, my grades continued to drop. My parents freaked out at this, and since the exam was coming up and I was nowhere near prepared, they decided to hire me a tutor.

A few days later, Nicole showed up at our house. She was eighteen, tall and beautiful and really, really friendly. I liked her instantly. But she was also efficient. When we finished the introduction, we sat down in my room to work on the math. She picked up the book, gave me a couple of math problems and sat back waiting for me to finish them. After half an hour, she looked at what I had done, frowned her face slightly, showed me my mistakes and how to correct them, and gave me a couple of new ones. After a couple of hours, she told me it was enough for the day, and she took me out for ice cream.

This went on for a couple of days, and every time I handed her the work I had done, the frown got deeper and deeper. She picked up a pen and pointed at the sheet I had worked on earlier that day.

"Take a look here. Some parts here, you don't know what you're doing, you're just guessing how to address the problem, and some places, you just skip it. And yet, at other times," she moved the pen further down the page, "you show that you really understand the subject. In fact, it seems to come naturally.

Considering the fact that just last year, you got mostly A's, I can come to only one conclusion. Math comes instinctively to you, you're naturally good at it. You would therefore spend less time working on it than your classmates, so you're not used to working for your grades. Then, the math got too hard, your natural skills weren't enough anymore. You needed to work, something you're not used to – at least in math." She tapped the pen at the desk. "Therefore, I have only one solution. Work harder," she said with a smile. She handed me the book and told me to start studying.

A few days passed, and Nicole kept frowning. At last, one Thursday afternoon, she sat me down again. "You still won't study as hard as you're supposed to. You still think you can cruise through the tests, but you can't anymore."

"I try, but it's hard!" I said defensively. I really liked Nicole, and hated when she criticised me.

"You're just not motivated. Stand up." As I did so, she sat up in her chair, straightening out the front of her skirt. "Now come over here." Something in her voice made me nervous, so I approached cautiously. When I got within her reach, her hands immediately moved to the front of my jeans, and she started unzipping them.

I was too surprised to move, and another shock came as she grabbed my arm and pulled me forward. As I landed across her lap, I felt disoriented. What was happening?

The answer came right away, as a sharp smack landed on my left cheek. Then another smack, on my right cheek, followed by a lot more. Nicole was spanking me!

I tried to stand up, but Nicole put her left hand at the small of my back, holding me down, while her right hand kept working on my rear end. The smacks were light, so they didn't sting much, but there was a lot of them, and the heat built up. Before long, I was kicking my legs. "Ow! Let me up."

"Not yet, sweetie," Nicole told me, still spanking me. "You need to learn that you can't cruise through class anymore. You need to start studying." I put my hand back, trying to block the spanking, but Nicole grabbed my wrist without even slowing down.

By now, my butt hurt like crazy, and I started crying. Nothing I could do would make her stop, so I just lay across her lap waiting for her to finish. But the sting was unbearable, and the spanking seemed to go on forever.

But then, after what seemed like a year of stinging slaps on my delicate rear end, Nicole suddenly stopped. "Have you learned your lesson now?"

"Y-yes," I hiccupped.

"Are you going to study hard now?"

"Yes, pleeeease stop spanking me, I've learned my lesson!"

Satisfied with my answer, Nicole helped me to my feet. I danced around on the floor, trying in vain to rub the sting out of my poor bottom. After a few minutes, I realized that my jeans were still around my knees, so I pulled them up, letting out a hiss of pain as the rough fabric touched my sore bottom. Nicole sent me a look that said "I feel sorry for you but you deserved it". She then came up to me and gave me a hug to let me know that the punishment was over. As I eased slowly down on the hard wooden seat, she handed me the book and told me to try again.

Neighbour's Girl (F/m story)

Robert was standing in the corner, jeans and underwear around his ankles and hands on his head. He swallowed nervously as he thought about his girlfriend, sitting in the chair behind him, most likely with a scowl on her face. Sooner or later – he had no idea when – she would call him out of the corner, pull him over her knee and spank his bottom. From time to time he would hear her turning the page of the pocketbook she always brought out at times like this. But he knew she was keeping one eye on him, and should he dare move, he would regret it.

With nothing to do but think, his memories brought him back twelve years, to the bright spring day that a fourteen-year-old boy decided to sneak into his neighbour's house.


The neighbours had a girl, four years his senior, named Sarah. Robert had never known Sarah much growing up; the difference in age had been too great. But the last year or so, it had slowly dawned on Robert that a tall, blonde beauty was living less than thirty feet away.

From seeing the washing lines outside his neighbour's house, Robert knew that Sarah usually wore small, black panties, and quite sexy ones too. It was the thought of getting his hands on a pair of those panties that led him to sneak in through her window one day.

Since her parents were at the movies and Sarah herself was at a friend's house, there was little chance of getting caught, but he knew that the risk increased for every minute he spent there. He allowed himself a quick glance around the room before starting his search. Several bookshelves, with romance novels side by side with Physics textbooks. A few posters of bands he had never heard of. And a smell quite unlike anything he had experienced before. Sweetly feminine, yet strong.

He quickly went to the first drawer he could find. He opened it slowly, as if uncovering an old Egyptian treasure. The drawer was full of t-shirts. Not the treasure he had hoped for, so he moved on to the next drawer.

Shorts. Slightly more interesting, but not jackpot. He picked one of them up and felt it for a second.

The third drawer contained magazines. He was starting to get impatient. Were was this girl keeping her panties?

He looked around the room, and headed towards the wardrobe. He should have gone straight for it, he realized. He opened it, and examined the small drawers. The first one contained socks. In the second drawer, he found what he was looking for. He picked up the top one and closed the drawer. And now -

"What the hell do you think you're doing!?"

He spun around, suddenly face to face with the angry scowl of the girl whose room he had invaded.

There are not many things you can say to calm a girl down when she finds you in her room, clutching a pair of her panties, and Robert knew it. He decided to find an excuse, ANY excuse, but when he opened his mouth, nothing came out.

She leaned forward. "Robert, is it?" Sarah stepped forward, grabbing the hand holding the panties. "And what were you planning to do with THESE, brat?" He opened his mouth again, but she cut him off. "No, don't bother, I think I can imagine what you were planning to do with them." She grabbed his ear and dragged him over to the bed, were she sat down.

Robert suddenly realized that he was face down over her lap, and his fears were confirmed when the first smack landed against his jeans.

"Trying to sneak into my room to steal my panties, are you? Well, luckily, Sarah Miller knows EXACTLY how to get a boy to mind his manners." She started lecturing him as the smacks landed.

"You're a naughty little pervert, but trust me, by the time I'm through with you, you won't even THINK about doing something like this again!"

The smacks weren't too hard, especially over his jeans, but they were fast, and pretty soon, the sting was building up. Robert had been to shocked to protest before, but the pain soon brought him out of his trance.

"OW! Please, I didn't mean to, I -"

"Didn't mean to!? You didn't MEAN to break into my room? What, you just suddenly woke up in another house, brat? I don't think I believe that."

His bottom burning, Robert started kicking his legs, but Sarah was holding on to his torso, and was more than strong enough to keep him in place.

After what seemed to Robert to be an incredibly long time, but what was probably just a few minutes, Robert found himself standing up again. Relieved, his hands went back to rub the sting away, but Sarah just slapped them away.

"Oh no, we're far from done here."

She grabbed his ear again and dragged him over to the far corner of the room, were she quickly pulled down his trousers and underwear. Robert protested meekly, but Sarah slapped his bottom half a dozen times to teach him who was in charge.

"Now, you stand there with your nose in the corner until I say otherwise, with your hands on your head AT ALL TIMES, or trust me, you'll be sorry." She left the room.

Robert would later realize that nothing was keeping him in the room, and that he could have jumped back out the window and gotten away, but at the time, he was too intimidated by the tall girl with the piercing eyes and the stinging hand to even consider running.

Sarah was soon back in the room. Robert wanted to know why she had left, but he didn't dare turn around to look. After a few minutes, she asked him to turn around and face her.

In her hand, she was clutching a small, wooden object. A ping-pong paddle. If someone had told Robert that he would ever find the flimsy-looking object intimidating, he would have thought them mad, but at the moment, there was nothing he feared more in the world. "Please," he said as he backed into the wall, both hands clasping his bottom protectively. "You can't be thinking of -"

"Of what? Using this on you?" She held up the paddle. "Giving you a good a long spanking with this thing until you are crying your eyes out and promising to never, ever act like a disgusting little pervert again? That IS what I'm thinking of." She patted her lap. "Come over here."

Robert shook her head, trying desperately to back through the wall.

Her eyes narrowed. "You get over here this instant, young man!"

Robert waddled forward as quickly as he could with his jeans still around his ankles, and lowered himself over her thighs. She positioned him so that his bottom was as high as possible and his head was low to the ground, and started rubbing the paddle in circles around on his bottom.

"Now, I want you to ask me for this spanking."

"What?" He couldn't believe his ears.

"Ask me if I will spank you. And ask me nicely, you hear?"

Robert just stared up at her. She didn't expect him to -

"Or," she continued, "I could go get one of my father's belt, and you can get a dozen of that when I'm done with the paddle. Your choice."

Robert took a deep breath. "Please give me a good, hard spanking, Sarah."

"With pleasure," Sarah said and lifted the paddle.

The first stroke rang out like a gunshot, and was quickly followed by a scream from the red-bottomed teen. The second, third and fourth stroke soon followed. The paddle moved quickly, landing on one cheek, then the other. It didn't take long for Robert to break down crying.

By this time, Sarah had stopped lecturing him, trusting the paddle to speak for her. Robert wouldn't have heard a word she said anyway.

Robert kicked, he cried, he squirmed, he sobbed, and he pleaded, but nothing he did could stop the descent of the paddle or get him off Sarah's lap.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Sarah laid the paddle down.

"Are you going to be a good boy from now on, Robert?"

"Y-yes," came the sobbing reply.

"Good."

Sarah helped the sobbing boy to his feet, and hugged him for a while: the punishment was over, and his crimes were forgiven. When he had calmed down, he eased into his jeans and left.


Robert was brought back to the present by the voice of his girlfriend telling him to turn around. Sarah was sitting on the bed, holding a ping-pong paddle and patting her lap. It wasn't the same paddle, of course; that one had been worn out and thrown away long ago. But there was still something nostalgic about the implement.

As Robert laid himself over her lap carefully, he thought about how strange life could be. Who would have guessed that their emotional first meeting would turn to friendship, and later, more? He only wished she would put away the paddle for good, but she said she would do that only when she felt he didn't need a good spanking once in a while.

Sarah patted his bottom lightly with the paddle. "Now young man, you know the drill. Ask me nicely."

Spanking the maid (f/F story)

 "What do you say, Mary?" Sally asked, grinning at the maid. "Do we have a deal?"

Mary nodded at the teenager, blushing with shame. This day had not gone well.

She'd slipped away from work for a quick smoking break, confident that the master and mistress would not catch her in the act. And she was right; they were in the other end of the house. But she had forgotten about their teenaged daughter.

Sally had given the maid a simple enough choice; either she would tell her parents about the maid's misdeeds, or she would punish her herself.

"What do you mean, punish?" Mary asked.

Sally smiled the evillest smile Mary had ever seen. "I'm going to put you over my knee and spank you."

Mary paled a little at that. "You can't! You're a child."

"True, I can't force you over my knee. I don't have to. Either you agree to my punishment, or I'll tell my parents."

Mary thought quickly about her choice. If her master found out, she would most likely be fired. She couldn't afford to lose her job now.

Besides, how bad could a spanking from this girl be?

Sally sat down on the wooden chair in the kitchen, waving Mary towards her. She patted her lap, and the older girl lowered herself over it. Mary blushed as she felt her skirt being flipped up, exposing her black panties. She was over the lap of a girl ten years younger than her, about to have her bottom spanked. She didn't want to believe it.

Suddenly, she felt a couple of hard slaps to her cheeks.

"Ow!" She cried out. "That hurts!"

"Of course it hurts," Sally replied. "It's a spanking. That's the point."

The spanks came hard and fast, and Mary squirmed a little in shock. She wouldn't have believed the skinny little girl capable of this.

Sally grinned to herself. Seeing the woman spread over her lap, squirming around as she slapped her buttocks; it was almost too good to be true! She wanted to pinch herself, to convince herself she wasn't dreaming, but decided against it. If it WAS a dream, she didn't want to wake up. So she pinched Mary instead.

As Sally slipped her fingers into the waistband of Mary's panties, she cried out. "Please! Not on my bare bottom!"

Sally gave her a look that utterly failed to be sympathetic. "It's not a real spanking if it's not on the bare, Mary."

Mary wanted to stand up, to stop this whole charade, but decided against it. It was still better than losing her job.

When Sally was satisfied with the redness of Mary's bottom, she told her to get up.

"If I catch you smoking again, it'll be the brush. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am, I understand." From now on, she would make sure she was alone before lighting up.

She glared as the girl skipped away. She would have her revenge somehow. Sooner or later.

All fun and games (m/f story)

Sally had never had a better friend than Alex. The two children had grown up right next door to each other, and spent most of their time playing. Even as they grew older, they had not grown apart. That day, they had decided to play prisoner with each other. Sally was the prisoner, and Alex was chasing her down. She was quick, running off into the woods to escape. He was quicker.

He'd brought a small jump rope, and as he caught up with her, he tied her to a tree. She squirmed around a little, pretending she was trying to escape. They stood there, looking at each other for a while.

"So, what happens now?" Sally said, after a while. She hadn't read as many prison stories as he had.

"Well, let's see. The prisoners are forced to eat water and bread," he said, staring off into the woods as he tried to think of what to do next. All the information was in a big, chaotic mess, and it took a while to sort it all out.

"We don't have any water and bread. And besides, what's so bad about bread?"

"Yeah, I never got that either." He rubbed the back of his head as he tried to think of something else. "Sometimes, they're chained up."

"I'm already tied up," she pointed out.

"Good point." He stared off into the woods again. "Some of them are whipped," he told her. Obviously, he couldn't whip her, so he had to think of something else. He was still staring off into the woods, so he couldn't see that Sally was thinking.

"Okay," she said at last.

"What?" He turned around and looked at her, having already forgotten what he had said.

"I said, 'okay'. You could whip me."

A strange silence followed.

"Yeah, well, we don't have a whip." He thought for a second. "I could spank you. Spanking is kind of like whipping, isn't it?" She didn't answer, and he looked at her strictly. "Turn around, prisoner!"

She turned towards the tree, replacing the rope so that she was still 'tied up'. She couldn't quite explain the butterflies in her stomach as she did so.

He walked up behind her, lifting her long t-shirt to reveal her green shorts. He held her shirt with his left hand, and lifted his right hand. He'd never been spanked, and he had never seen anyone get spanked, but he'd seen it in movies and comics. It couldn't be that hard, could it?

He delivered a smack to her left cheek, carefully. He had never done this before, and didn't want to do it wrong. It didn't seem right. They spanked harder in the movies, didn't they? A sharp smack to her right cheek. That was better, he told himself.

He gave her a couple of slaps to each cheek, increasing the force, and she let out a small yelp. That sounded about right. When you were spanked, you were supposed to cry out.

He went at it for a while, spanking first one cheek, then the other. Sally furrowed her brows in thought. Weren't spankings supposed to be more painful than this? And did they always feel this good?

After a while, Alex noticed that her bottom jiggled as he smacked it. He was intrigued; he'd never seen anyone's bottom jiggle before. He wanted a closer look. He had just grabbed her shorts, and was about to pull them down when he heard a sharp intake of breath. He looked up, expecting Sally to be glaring down at him, but she wasn't. She was biting her lip, looking down at him nervously, but she wasn't protesting. He decided to go ahead and pulled down her shorts, and with them, her panties. Her bare bottom was poking out at him, but still, she didn't protest. He lifted his hand again.

Sally felt the cool wind upon on her unprotected bottom. This was all very strange. Again, he slapped her bottom, and that strange feeling was back, that itching feeling inside her. It was strange, but not unpleasant.

He kept spanking her, his hand leaving little pink marks all over her bottom. She let out a few more yelps, but not much more. She looked over her shoulders at him. "You know, it's not really a whipping if you use your hand." She wasn't entirely sure why she said it.

He thought about it. How was he going to find a whip in the middle of the forest? Actually, he wasn't sure how to find one in the middle of the city, either. Didn't you have to be an archaeologist to own one of those?

He looked around for something to use, and settled on a small branch. He picked it up and whipped it through the air. That didn't sound right. He picked off the leaves and tried again. Much better.

He turned to Sally to present his new discovery, and found that she was already staring at it with her eyes wide open. It wasn't in fear, though. He'd seen her eyes staring in fear, like that time her mother caught them with that stolen chocolate cake. He was probably looking pretty scared at the time, himself. The point was, she wasn't staring at the branch in fear. He wasn't sure what it was, as he'd never seen that look in her eyes before, but it wasn't fear.

Sally saw him pick up the stick and whip it through the air, and knew that he was about to use it on her. Why didn't that scare her? It would probably hurt. It sounded like it would hurt. But she wasn't scared of it. Why not?

He brought his new whip down on her bottom, and a thin, pink line appeared, darker than the pink marks already decorating her rear end. She cried out, but didn't tell him to stop. He was confused, both by her actions and by his own feelings. He lifted the whip again.

Sally could feel tears on her face, and her bottom was stinging, but she didn't want it to end. Not yet. She heard the branch whip through the air again, and a sudden sting. It was unpleasant, and yet it wasn't.

He had no idea how many strokes he gave her with that thing, but it was a lot. In a way, he was a little disappointed when she told him to stop. He wanted to continue forever. But he put the whip down, and she pulled her shorts up, stepping out of the jumping rope.

They stared at each other for a while, neither saying a word. She dried her tears, and they walked back home. Sally was clutching the branch as if it was her new favourite toy. She could hide it in her room, and if she was careful, no one would find it.

The Baron's daughter (f/F story)

 "You must be Claire Hulme," the Baron said, holding out his hand. While shook it, she took a moment to study her new employer. Baron Laney was a short man, but she could tell there was great strength in his arms, should he care to use it. Potentially a very scary man, but there was something in his eyes that told her he wasn't; he didn't have the strength of character.

After a short meeting, where she was instructed in her new duties, Claire was taken to meet the girl she would be responsible for, during the months that the Baron was out of the country. She knew a few things about her; her name was Katherine, after a local saint. She was in her late teens. And she had been quite a bother for her previous caretakers. That didn't matter. Claire never feared challenges.

Katherine was in the training room, practising her fencing. Claire frowned; she had always found the sport quite unladylike. One of the servants informed the lady that the new caretaker was here, and Katherine removed her mask, stepping over to greet the newcomer.

And as soon as she looked at her face, Claire was struck by how unlike her father the girl was. There was no uncertainty, no weakness, in her eyes. She had a very dominating personality, and she didn't care to hide it. Claire found herself thankful that she didn't seem to have inherited her father's physical strength.

Later, Claire was in her room, reading a book, when she suddenly noticed Katherine leaning against the mantelpiece, grinning at her. She frowned; she hadn't heard the girl knock.

"What are you doing in here, girl?"

"Father has left," Katherine said, taking a step forward, still that wolf-like grin on her face. The Baron went away that morning, and wouldn't be back for weeks. "From now on, I'm in charge."

"I beg your pardon, young lady!?"

"I'm in charge," the girl repeated, as if talking to a particularly dim servant – or a child. "You do as I say."

"Your father left me in charge, girl," Claire said, trying to regain the authority that she could feel slipping from her fingers under those cold, blue eyes. "You're going to obey ME, not the other way around."

"Oh?" Katherine said, raising an eyebrow. "We'll see about that."

The book fell to the floor as Katherine grabbed her caretaker's wrist. Claire found herself on her feet, then off them again as Katherine sat down on the bed, pulling the struggling woman over her knee.

"What's going on!?" Claire yelled.

"Isn't that obvious?" Katherine said in that annoying, patronising tone as she raised Claire's dress, planting a few hard smacks on the seat of her knickers. "I'm teaching you a lesson in manners."

"You can't SPANK me!" Claire gasped.

"Can't I?" Katherine laughed. "I seem to be doing quite a good job of it." And as she moved from cheek to cheek, raining stinging slaps down on Claire's squirming bottom, the caretaker would have to agree.

She tried to get away from the girl's punishing hand, but Katherine was holding her firmly in place. Claire realized that she'd been wrong; Katherine was a LOT stronger than she looked. Claire couldn't fight free.

"Are you going to do as I say?" Katherine asked.

"Yes! Please, I'll do anything, just stop spanking me!" With a blush, Claire realized that she had been reduced to begging to the girl she was supposed to look after.

"That's better," Katherine said, rubbing her bottom gently. "Here's what I want you to do. I want you to get up, and take your clothes off." She pinched her cheeks. "ALL of them. Then, you're going to lay across my lap and take the rest of your spanking."

"Please, no more, I'll be good!" Claire whined.

"If you DON'T, I'm going to send one of the servants to fetch a paddle. Do you understand?"

"Please, don't -"

Katherine gave her a few hard whacks. "Do – You – Under- Stand?"

"OW! Yes, I understand!"

Katherine grinned. "Good."

Claire felt the girl's eyes on her as she undressed. She gritted her teeth in pain as she pulled the knickers down over her blistered flesh, but she didn't dare disagree. She couldn't imagine what the teen could do to her with a paddle in her hand.

"Good," Katherine said as Claire dropped her brassiere on the ground, standing in front of her nude as the day she was born. "You're learning. Now, I want you to ask me for your spanking."

Claire wanted to sink into the ground. Could this be any worse? Of course it could, she told herself. Don't tempt fate.

"Will you.... will you give me a good spanking, Mistress Katherine?"

"Mistress Katherine. I like the sound of that. Well, how could I refuse a request like that?" She smiled, patting her lap. "Come here."

Claire trembled slightly as Katherine squeezed her bottom, running her fingers over the blistered cheeks.

"I hope you're ready for this," she said, lifting her hand.

Claire kicked her legs, crying out as an explosion of pain spread across her sore buttocks. Soon, she was bawling, kicking her legs, lost in the pain and shame.

After what seemed like an eternity, she was helped to her feet, and pushed into a corner.

"If you stand here, hands on your head, for half an hour, your punishment will be over. If not..." She let the sentence hang in the air as she left the room. Or maybe she only pretended to leave. Claire shivered, feeling the sweat rolling down her face. She wasn't going to take the chance.

Caught by the neigbour (F/m story)

The whole thing started with Jacob, by his window, gazing at the stars. He quite enjoyed staring at the little lights blinking so far overhead. This night, however, he found something else to draw his attention.

The closest neighbour of Jacob and his parents was Beth. Beth was around thirty years, and Jacob had always found her very attractive. She was a tall, shapely blonde with a nice smile and an even nicer body. Her bedroom window faced Jacob’s, but his was on the third floor; hers was on the first. Jacob had never given the window much thought; she kept the curtains closed most of the time, so there was rarely anything to see.

Tonight, however, was different.

Jacob realized three things as he looked down at his shapely neighbour’s window. First of all, that most of her clothes were at the floor, as she tried on outfit after outfit. Second, that he was too high up to get a good look at what was happening. Thirdly, that outside Beth’s window, there were some bushes that would give him a much better view. He hurried outside as quietly as he could, as to not wake up his parents.

When he got to the bushes, Jacob found to his surprise and joy that what little clothes Beth had been wearing, had joined the rest at the floor. Jacob was no stranger to the shadier sites of the web, and had seen quite a few girls wearing very little clothes, and hordes of girls wearing none at all. But he had found very little that could compete with his neighbour. She had the most wonderfully round, full bottom he had ever seen, and he could watch this all day.

After she had faced away from him for some time, looking into her closet, giving Jacob a perfect view of her rear end, she turned to pick up some clothes that was lying on the bed. Now, Jacob could view a triangular patch of hair that made his erection even larger. He lifted his gaze to concentrate on her breasts, but noticed something different; her eyes. They were large, blue and beautiful. They were cold, with just a hint of anger. And they were looking straight at him.

Beth leaned forward, opened the window a little, and whispered coldly to him; "Go inside the house and wait for me in the living room. NOW." The smile that always danced at her lips was gone, and Jacob didn’t even consider not doing as she asked.

Jacob had been standing in the living room for less than a minute when he heard Beth call to him to come into her bedroom. He was disappointed – though not surprised – to find that she had gotten dressed, in a black top and a pair of blue shorts. She was holding a large wooden bath brush, and Jacob could guess what it was for; she had been his babysitter more than once as he was growing up, and she had always used that bath brush for his punishments. His worst fears were realized when she told him to drop his pants.

“You can’t do that," he exclaimed in shock.

“Of course I can. But I will give you a choice: either you take your punishment from me, or we go over to your parents and tell them what happened."

He hesitated. “Do you mean that if I do as you say, you won’t tell them?" She nodded.
He thought about it. A quick spanking HAD to be better than the two weeks – if not more – of grounding his parents would give him.. He undid his jeans and pulled them down.

Beth gave him a reassuring smile as she pulled him over her knee. She then laid the bath brush at the table next to her, and put her hand on his briefs. “I will give you a warm-up spanking with my hand, then move on to the brush." With that, she started spanking.

Jacob was surprised and relieved by the mildness of the smacks. It stung a little, but it wasn’t too bad. He started congratulating himself on choosing the easier option. His relief must have been visible, because Beth said to him; “Jacob, this is a WARM-UP spanking. Of course it’s going to be light. You’re going to be a very sorry boy before I’m through."

She started picking up the pace, smacking harder and faster. Jacob felt a little heat building up, and started wriggling. Suddenly, her hand stopped smacking, and she started to pull down his briefs.

“Please, Beth, not on my bare bottom!"

“Jacob, please remember that when I’m punishing you, it’s Elizabeth, not Beth. GOOD boys get to call me Beth. And why shouldn’t I see your naked bottom? You certainly saw enough of mine."

With that, she continued the spanking, but harder and faster. Jacob was getting very uncomfortable, and started kicking his legs a little. He was relieved when she stopped smacking, until he felt the cold, hard wood of the bath brush rubbed against his bottom.

He wanted to beg for mercy, but he had no time to react before the brush lifted and landed on his bottom with a loud SMACK!

The sharp pain that he remembered from his childhood was back, and a loud “Ow!" escaped his lips. Elizabeth smacked fast, she smacked all over his bottom, and she smacked very, very hard. Pretty soon, Jacob was crying heavily as his bottom was turned from a light shade of pink to a dark shade of red. His kicking was so out of control that Elizabeth had to hold his legs between one of hers, to keep him from kicking off her lap.

When his bottom was bright red and he was sobbing uncontrollably, Elizabeth decided to stop the spanking. She moved him into a sitting position on her lap, and hugged him until he calmed down and stopped crying. As he stood up and started to get dressed, she told him; “I will keep my word, Jacob; I won’t tell anyone. But if I ever catch you outside my window again, this spanking will seem like a picnic compared to the one I’ll give you." He believed her.

Attitude (m/f story)

"Can you come straight home from school today, Ann? I need some help outside."

Ann sighed. Staying at her brother's place was a lot better than with her parents, but even he nagged her. "I was going to go to the mall!"

"You can go afterwards. And weren't you there yesterday?"

"It's a big mall," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Well, you're helping me today, so deal. And I'd lose the attitude if I were you, missy."

"Oh, fuck off." Seeing the look on his face, she realized her mistake just a second too late.

"Come here." He patted his lap.

"Chris, I didn't mean it, I-"

"I don't have time for this. Come here."

"Now, if you'll just -"

"Do you want me to get the paddle, young lady?"

She didn't. Slowly, she made her way over to her scowling brother. She lifted her skirt up and lowered herself over his lap, as she had so many times before. He lowered her panties and started spanking, wasting no time on a warm-up; she was going to school soon, and didn't have a lot of time.

One hand around her waist to keep her from squirming away, he spanked hard and fast, covering her bottom in hard slaps.

"Are you going to lose that attitude, Ann?"

"Ow! Yes, I promise."

"And you're going to go straight home from school today?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Are you going to watch your language in the future?"

"Yes, sir," she said through the tears rolling down her face.

When he was satisfied that she had learned her lesson, he helped her to her feet. She stood there, jumping from foot to foot as she tried to rub the sting away. When she thought he was far away that he wouldn't hear her, she let out a small, silent "Bastard."

He turned around, and from the look on his face, she realized that she hadn't been as silent as she thought she had been.

"I went easy on you," he said as he dragged her over his knee, "because I thought you'd might like to sit somewhat comfortably during your school day. I guess I was wrong."

Ann didn't think he could spank harder than he had during her first spanking, but she soon found out just how wrong she had been. She kicked her legs, pleading for the spanking to stop, but he ignored her. He held her down and kept smacking until he felt she was sorry enough

He helped her to her feet and marched her to a corner.

"School's in thirty minutes. You're going to stay here, hands on your head and butt on display, for fifteen, and I'll drive you. If you move or talk at ALL during your corner time, you'll be getting the belt when you get home. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." He gave her one last slap before leaving her to think.

A Tempting Target (M/F story)

 Brian had always loved the clean-up after a party. When his friends had parties, he was the guy that always stayed behind to help. He knew this made him strange, but he had accepted it long ago. It was just something about how it was all evidence that a good time had been had, and how fun the next party would be. He couldn't explain it, but he never felt the need to.

Usually, there were a couple of people willing to help out, but tonight, it was just him and the host. The host was Steph, a small redhead that he'd known for a few years. 'Steph' was short for Stephanie, he knew that, but no one ever called her that. It was Steph, and had always been.

It had been a pool party, and they were both still dressed in their swimwear. This made Brian feel somewhat strange; in addition to being cute, Steph had the most well-shaped rear end he'd seen, and in the tiny bikini she was wearing, he got more than an eyeful. He tried to be covert about his staring, but he had a feeling she could tell.

They were placing the last remnants of the beer in the fridge when it happened. Steph was bending over to place something on the bottom shelf, leaving Brian with the best view of his life, when he stepped forward to give that cute little bottom a good smack. It was irresistible.

She jumped to her feet and faced him, and Brian got ready for her rage. To his surprise, she didn't yell at him or slap his face or anything, just studied him, before saying, “Don't start something you don't intend to finish.”

She headed outside, leaving Brian very confused. “Hey, Steph, what was that about?”

“You don't know? Well, I guess you wouldn't. Most people don't. But this should give you some ideas.”

“What should?” he asked, confused.

“This.” She pushed him backwards, into the pool.

Brian was shocked. “What was that about?” he asked again.

“Oh, I shouldn't have done that.” She turned around, bending forward slightly, focusing all his attention on that cute rear end. She turned her neck, looking at him while still giving him an eyeful.

“I guess I've been BAD.”

Brian climbed out of the pool. He had a feeling he had figured it out now. “Well then, I think I know what to do about that.”

Steph giggled and tried to run, but he was faster and caught up to her quickly. He lifted her up and carried her over to one of the sun beds.

“You've been a brat, young lady, and you're going to get what every brat deserves.” He sat down on the sun bed, pulling the giggling girl over his knee.

“Oh please, don't spank me!”

“Too late for pleading now.” He gave her a few light smacks, unsure of what she actually wanted. He tried a few more. She sighed in frustration, and he guessed she wanted more. The next few smacks were harder, but she still didn't seem happy.

The next set were even harder, and she smiled at him. A series of firm slaps, and she sighed again, this time in content.

He started spanking her, a series of hard spanks on alternating cheeks. Steph was telling him how sorry she was between giggles.

“I'll be good now, I really will. Hey, don't you trust me?” she pouted.

“Not for a second.” Another series of hard strokes, and with every single one, those cute cheeks bounced around.

Suddenly, Steph asked him, “Are my bikini bottoms getting in your way?”

For a brief moment, Brian was stunned. Steph was a lot more forward than he had anticipated. “You know, I think they are.” He lowered them to her knees, revealing the full perfection of that stunning bottom.

As those bare cheeks turned from pink to red, Steph was still giggling, and started moaning with pleasure. After a while, he sensed it was time to stop. Steph rose to her feet, telling him to follow her.

They stepped inside, and Steph went over to a big mirror, studying her bottom in the mirror, touching it with her fingertips as she gasped at the redness. “Brian?” She stepped over to him.

“Yes?”

She reached down, touching his erection through his trunks. “I want you inside me.”

He obliged her.

Fair's fair (F/ff and ff/F story)

Mary Benton placed her hands at her hips as she glared at her two daughters. "What have your father and I told you about these?" She held up the pack of cigarettes that she'd taken from them a few minutes before.

Corinne looked at the floor, unable to face her mother's wrath. Leanne held her gaze, but didn't answer. When they'd lit up, they had thought that their mother was out shopping. They hadn't expected her to get home so fast, and they hadn't anticipated how smelly the cigarettes were.

Mrs Benton looked from one to the other. "I had expected better from you. You're both in your teens, you'll soon be adults, and you'd better start acting like it soon." She folded her hands across her chest. "Right. Into the living room. You're both getting a paddling."

They'd known it was coming, but it was still scary to hear the words spoken aloud. Corinne looked tear-eyed at her mother. "Please, not the paddle! We won't do it again, honest!" Leanne just rose to her feet; she knew that trying to talk their way out of their punishment was useless.

"Get going, Corinne," Mary said, giving her youngest daughter a swat when she didn't move fast enough. Corinne jumped into the air, giving off a little yelp. Leanne rolled her eyes at her younger sister's theatrics.

Mrs Benton got the paddle from the drawer in the hallway, patting it against her palm. "Right. Which one of you will be first?"

Leanne looked over at her sister, who was trembling and biting her lip. She sighed, wondering why her sister had to be such a baby every time they got punished. She stepped forward.

"Raise your skirt and bend over the chair," Mrs Benton told her oldest daughter. Leanne did as instructed, leaning forward, placing her hands on the seat of the chair and pushing her bottom out as far as she could manage. No use earning extras.

"I think ten strokes should do it. Brace yourself."

SMACK! The first stroke rang out, and Leanne bit her lip. Nine more. She could handle that.

 SMACK! Another stroke, just below the first one.

SMACK! Leanne could feel her eyes getting moist.

SMACK! She dug her nails into the chair, desperately wanting to rub her bottom.

SMACK! She let out a groan of pain. Halfway there.

SMACK! Tears were rolling down her cheeks, and her bottom felt like it was on fire.

"The last four will come quickly. Brace yourself."

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Leanne cried out, but was relieved. It was over. She rose to her feet, gingerly rubbing her sore rear.

Mrs Benton turned to her youngest daughter. "Your turn, Corinne. Bend over the chair."

Corinne was already sniffling as she assumed the position, and Leanne wondered if she would manage to stay in position. She hoped she would; she hated seeing her sister in pain, and didn't want her to suffer needlessly.

SMACK! Already, Corinne was crying openly.

SMACK! SMACK! Two quick strokes, and Leanne could tell her sister was getting weak in her knees.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Leanne realized that Mrs Benton wanted to get this over with quickly, as they all knew Corinne would give up given half a chance.

SMACK! SMACK! Corinne screamed, but stayed in position.

SMACK! SMACK! And it was over. Corinne stayed over the chair, crying for a few minutes, before getting up and joining her sister.

"I hope this will teach you not to smoke in the future," Mrs Benton told her daughters. "You should be glad that I caught you, and not your father." Leanne shuddered a bit at that; they all knew how much their father hated smoking.

Half an hour later, Leanne and Corinne were sitting in their room. Actually, only Leanne was sitting, and gingerly at that. Corinne was lying across her sister's lap, bare bottom in the air as Leanne rubbed cooling cream into it.

"I'll never sit again," Corinne whined.

"It doesn't look too bad," Leanne lied. "You'll be okay in no time, you'll see. Now, get up. It's my turn," she said, handing the jar of ointment to her sister before pulling her panties down.

"I'll never smoke again," Corinne said as she spread the ointment. "That's for sure."

"Me neither. It didn't taste good, either."

"You know, I didn't know it would smell that much. The stink is still as bad as it was!"

Leanne lifted her head, sniffing in the air. "I don't think that's just residue," she said.

"What do you mean?" Corinne asked, surprised.

"Follow me," Leanne told her, pulling her panties back up before heading out.

Mary Benton was standing out back, with the pack of confiscated cigarettes in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other. She'd missed the taste of the smokes. Her husband had never liked her habit, and had convinced her to quit a year or two ago.

"Mom! What are you doing!?" She twirled around to find her two daughters staring wide-eyed at her.

"You know that Dad doesn't want you smoking, right?" Leanne said, smirking slightly. Mrs Benton didn't like the look of that.

"Listen, kids. Why don't we keep this between us? There is no reason why your father needs to know about this, right?"

"You want us to keep this secret from him? That would be dishonest," Leanne replied, failing spectacularly at looking innocent.

"Yeah, if Dad knew about it, he'd paddle us both," Corinne said, giggling nervously.

An evil grin appeared on Leanna's face. "I have an idea, mom. How about this? We won't tell him about this disgusting breach of his trust... and in return, we get to paddle you."

Mrs Benton and Corinne both looked wide-eyed at Leanne. "Out of the question," Mrs Benton said at last.

"Fine. Then we'll tell dad. Come on, Corinne." Leanne started to head inside.

"Wait! We can work something out, fine, but a paddling? That's humiliating."

"We know," Corinne said. "You did it to us less than an hour ago, remember?"

"And for what?" Leanne asked, nodding at the cigarette in her mother's hand. "Smoking. It's the easiest way out, mom, and you know it."

A few minutes later, they were back inside. "Why don't you go get the paddle, Corinne?" Leanne said. Corinne giggled and went. She'd been sent for the paddle a few times before, but she'd never been as enthusiastic about it as now.

"Right. We got ten strokes for smoking, so I think it's only fair that you get the same, don't you?" Her mother nodded, looking more and more pale every second.

Corinne returned with the paddle, holding it as if it was the most sacred artifact she had ever laid eyes on. Leanne looked at her mother. "Raise your dress and place both hands on the seat of the chair," she said. She did as instructed. Leanne turned to her sister. "Why don't you start off, Corinne? Five strokes, and make them good ones."

Corinne nodded, grinning widely. "I will." She picked up the paddle, patting it against her mother's quivering cheeks. Mrs Benton groaned; not only was she bent over, panties on display, but her two daughters were about to paddle her! Could this get any more humiliating?

SMACK! Mrs Benton bit her lip; it was a long time since she'd been paddled, and she'd forgotten just how much it could hurt.

SMACK! She stomped her feet, trying to get the sting out of her aching cheeks.

SMACK! The strongest yet, and she cried out in pain.

SMACK! She was shocked to discover that tears were rolling down her cheeks.

SMACK! She fell forward, gasping for air.

"Halfway there, mom," Leanne said as she took the paddle that Corinne handed her. "Now, brace yourself. This is going to hurt."

SMACK! Mrs Benton had expected Leanne to be tougher on her than Corinne, but she had severely underestimated just how MUCH tougher. She cried out, digging her nails into the chair.

SMACK! This landed on her sit spot, causing her to wail like a banshee.

SMACK! Right on top of the previous stroke. It felt like her paddling had lasted forever.

SMACK! She was sobbing in pain, unable to think straight, but she managed to stay down.

SMACK! And it was over. She rose to her feet, running her fingers gingerly over her poor, beaten posterior.

"It's over. Don't worry, we'll keep your smoking secret," Leanne said as she headed off to her room. Her diary entry for today was going to be a good one.

Mrs Benton stepped over to a mirror, gasping as she saw the bruises. She was glad her husband was away on a business trip; she didn't want to explain why she wouldn't be sitting the next few days.

In Her Office (F/M story)

There was nothing in the world I hated more than being asked by my wife to stop by her office. My wife, Diane, worked at a small office in the middle of the city. All of her employees were young, intelligent good-looking women. And every single one of them knew that Diane spanked me.

Most of the time, Diane punished me in the privacy of our own home. She bared my bottom, pulled me over her lap and smacked me with her hairbrush until I was truly sorry. But sometimes, if she learned of my misbehaviour while she was at work, or really wanted to humiliate me, she would ask me to stop by her office. Today was such a day.

As I entered the office, the first girl I saw was Karen. Karen is probably my least favourite person in the whole world. She’s a redhead that looks like a cat toying with a mouse. She’s an old friend of my wife, and has not only seen me punished at work, but at home as well. Once, when my wife felt I had been too rude to her guest, she had even gotten to punish me herself. Whenever she saw me, her face turned into a gloating sneer.

Karen turned around and shouted towards my wife’s office. “Diane, your husband’s here!” It was clear that she wanted the entire office to know.

Diane marched towards me, clearly irritated. “Do you know what you’ve done?” she asked me. I shook my head; I didn’t have a clue. “Do you remember my friend Alice, the policewoman?” I nodded. “Earlier today, she called me about the speeding ticket you got last month. Remember that?” I nodded; that spanking had been one of the worst I had received. “Remember how you promised to pay it before it became a problem?” I nodded. “Well, if Alice hadn’t intervened today, that ticket would become a problem.”

Not wasting a second, she grabbed my ear and dragged me into the office. I heard the snickering of the girls in the office, and a surprised gasp. This was strange, but I had other things of my mind, so I didn’t think too much of it.

When we got to her office, my wife told me to drop my trousers and underpants and stand in the corner. She sat down, taking a few phone calls while I stood there waiting. By this point, one or more of the girls would usually find some excuse to come into the room while I stood there with my rear on display.

Today, it was Grace, a tall blonde who entered the office to deliver a report she had completed. She handed to my wife, and stood there for a while making small talk. I could almost feel her eyes on my bottom.

After fifteen minutes in the corner, my wife called me over. She rolled her office chair back to allow free movement of her arms, picked up the hairbrush from her purse, and pulled me over her knee.

She wasted no time with warm-ups or lecturing, but started smacking my rear end with the hairbrush. The hairbrush was small, covering very little area, so Diane compensated by smacking fast and covering my entire bottom.

Diane was a firm believer of quick punishment, and soon, I was crying loudly. I had started kicking my legs, and begging for her to let me up. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Me still draped over her lap, she called out for whomever it was to enter.

In came Grace, smiling as she saw me lying with my pink, bare bottom in the air. With her was a short brunette I had never seen before. Grace looked at my wife. “Diane, it turns out Michelle here has never heard about how you deal with Benjamin. I was wondering if she could stay here and watch?”

“Were you planning to stay as well?” My wife said knowingly.

“That was the idea, yes,” Grace replied.

“I don’t see why not,” she said. When she was sure her audience were sitting comfortably, she continued the spanking.

She spanked even harder than before, taking more pride in her work when she had an audience. I tried my best to remain collected when others were watching, but soon, I was crying and kicking my legs again. I heard the new girl gasp in amazement. “Wow! His butt’s so red!”

My wife laughed. “With a strong hairbrush and a stronger will, it’s not hard. Come, feel his bottom.” Michelle walked forward, and gently poked my bottom. Then, she slowly rubbed it.

“It’s really warm,” she said, sounding surprised.

“Do you want to try this?” My fears were confirmed when the hairbrush rubbed my bottom again. Michelle gave me a couple of light pats, trying to work up the courage. The pats grew harder until they turned into smacks, and soon after, she was laying it on my poor bottom as hard as Diane did.

“That’s enough,” Diane laughed. The hairbrush changed hands again, and when Michelle had sat back down, Diane continued.

All resistance I had due to my audience was gone, and I was shamelessly kicking my legs and begging for the spanking to stop. Luckily, soon after, the spanking stopped.

As Diane directed me back into the corner, I heard the girls going back to work. I knew that at least one of my wife’s employees would come into the room to see my red bottom, but since there was little I could do about it, I didn’t think too much about it.

I heard my wife whistling silently near me, clearly satisfied about a job well done.