Helping the exchange student (M/F story)

I was sitting on my room, most of my attention focused on the PlayStation, when I heard the car start and my parents drive off for their night on the town. Moments later, Clarissa entered my room, sitting cross-legged beside me on the bed with a look on her face that revealed that she wanted someone to complain to.

“They said no, once again,” she said as she pouted. Shaking her head, she looked at me. “Tom, I just don't know why your parents won't spank me.”

Clarissa was a foreign exchange student, two years older than me, that had lived with us for a little less than a month now. She was doing well in school, but last week, she'd gotten a test she hadn't been quite prepared for, and her grade had matched that. But when she got home with it, she'd asked my parents to spank her. She told us she'd always been disciplined like that at home, and she had expected the same arrangement here – a quick, painful punishment to wipe the slate and teach her a lesson at the same time. My parents were shocked; they'd never spanked me or my sister, though they'd given us the occasional smack when we were unruly, and they certainly weren't planning on using corporal punishment on the teenager that was staying here. But she'd had trouble taking 'no' for an answer.

“Who knows?” I said, trying to be vague. Ever since she'd brought the subject up to my parents, the mental image of the cute girl bare-bottomed over someone's lap, her backside wriggling under the firm smacks delivered to it, had taken up a sizeable portion of my thoughts, and I found it somewhat distracting. To stop myself from saying anything too inappropriate, I focused my attention on the PlayStation game instead.

“Can I join?” she asked, nodding towards the TV.

“Sure,” I said. The other controller was lying on the floor on the other side of the bed, so she bent over, her head down towards the floor while her voluptuous rear end in tight jeans was turned towards me. Once again, my mind was off the PlayStation. I felt an overpowering urge to lean forward and give the inviting target a good slap or two.

“You know, I would be happy to give that butt a good spanking,” I found myself saying before I could stop myself.

She spun around to face me, gasping, and I winced, expecting a firm slap to the face. But instead, after a few terrifying seconds, she smiled. “That's a good idea,” she said. “Would you do that for me?”

Now it was my turn to stare in shock. 'That's a good idea' was not the reaction I'd expected from that comment, but the relieved look on her face told me that she was completely serious. “Would you really give me the spanking I need?” she asked me, seeming worried that I might say no. There was very little chance of THAT happening. When life presents you with an opportunity like this, you grab it, so I nodded.

She stood up, looking around. “Where do you want me?” It was quite clear that she wanted to start right away.

I was by no means an expert in this subject, but had a rough idea from popular culture, so I sat on the edge of the bed and patted my lap. “Over my knee, Clarissa.”

Instead of simply placing herself over my lap, as I had thought, she instead started to unzip her jeans, wriggling them town to her hips. It was clear that she didn't want a few slaps to the seat of her jeans – she was expecting a proper spanking. I wasn't entirely sure how to deliver that, but I was going to have a lot of fun experimenting.

She placed herself over my lap, her head on my pillow and her backside on my thigh, and my eyes feasted on the round, pale cheeks that were presented, only protected by thin pair of white cotton panties. I could feel my erection was rubbing up against her stomach, but she didn't comment – hopefully, she hadn't noticed.

I placed my right hand on her cheek, enjoying the soft flesh against my palm, before lifting it and delivering the first smack. The sound rang out in the silent room, and for a brief moment, I could see the pink imprint of my hand on her rear end, before it vanished. I lifted my hand again, delivering a dozen more smacks, but Clarissa neither moved nor made a sound. This was probably going to take a while, and I was going to love every second.

I soon felt into a rhythm, spanking one cheek, then the next, delivering about two slaps a second. Soon, she gave the occasional “ouch” every time my hand landed on her sit spots, and her posterior was slowly turning a delightful shade of pink.

After a while, I rested my hand on her backside, rubbing and squeezing it gently. I was unsure of how much discipline she was expecting, and I didn't want to test my luck too much – if possible, I would love to do this again another time, and I couldn't do that if she didn't trust me.

She whimpered. “Tom, you don't HAVE to pull my panties down for the rest! I'm learning my lesson, I promise.”

Once again, I had to thank my lucky stars. She thought I had just paused the spanking to lower her panties, and, while that hadn't been my intention, now it was all I could think about. “Can you tell me that you don't deserve a bare-bottom punishment?” Her only response was a whimper, so I placed my thumbs in the waistband of the cotton panties, and they joined her jeans at her ankles.

As I continued the spanking, she kept her legs pressed firmly against one another, probably to ensure that I didn't see more of her than I needed, but soon, the pain that was slowly building up in her backside made her kick her legs, giving me ample flashes of everything.

“I hope you're learning your lesson from this,” I said, as strictly as I could. I had never lectured anyone before, but I was learning fast. “You're capable of doing so well in school, and I know we can expect more from you. I don't want to do this again.” That last part was a lie, but I felt that 'I want to do this every day for the rest of my life' wouldn't be as appropriate for a spanking lecture.

Tears were rolling down her cheeks now, and she looked really sorry. After a few last smacks to her sit spots, I stopped the spanking, rubbing her cheeks to let her know that she was forgiven. Her backside was now bright pink, almost turning red, and I had a feeling that she wouldn't sit comfortably for a while.

She sat up, giving me a hug as she thanked me for being there for her when she needed me. I told her that I would help her anytime she needed me, but that she shouldn't say anything about this to anyone, least of all my parents – this was a private punishment, and not anyone else's business. She agreed to keep quiet.

Rising to her feet, she pulled her panties up, and then looked at her trousers. Knowing that the tight jeans would be hell on her sore bottom, she instead chose to step out of them, folding them up and placing them on my desk.

Drying the last tears from the corners of her eyes, she nodded towards the television. “You died.”

I looked at the screen. She was right – I hadn't paused the game. And for the last few minutes, my mind had been focused on something quite different than the PlayStation.

“Two-player?” she suggested as she sat next to me, picking up the second controller.

“Sure,” I said. Though considering that she was sitting on a freshly-spanked backside, and that I was sitting next to a shapely, good-looking girl with no trousers on, I don't think we focused as much on the game as we normally would.