The Skirt (M/F story)

I leaned my head back, letting the hot sunlight wash over me, basking in its glow. It was a hot spring day, and I was heading down-town; my girlfriend had finished work for today, and I wanted to surprise her by taking her to the cinema. We would find a small café, enjoying a coffee as we enjoyed the beautiful day.

But for some reason, things rarely go the way you want them to.

As I neared the small shop were Jessica worked, a young woman exited the shop. A short brunette, wearing high heels, a tight blouse and a short, pink skirt that left very little to the imagination. That was Jessica. The problem was, those clothes didn't even resemble the clothes she had left the house in this morning.

She didn't see me, as she was heading for the parking lot, and I had approached the shop from the other side. I followed her closely, my anger rising every second. When she got close to the car, she dropped some of the papers she was carrying to the ground, and she slowly bent over to pick them up, making the short skirt rise even higher. Her white panties were now on display to everyone in the street, and I had lost my patience. I lifted my hand and smacked the exposed cheeks.

Jessica yelped and spun around, ready to slap whomever was taking liberties with her. When she saw my angry face, however, her indignation was replaced with fear and a bit of guilt. She rubbed her rear with one hand while she looked around, hoping that no one had witnessed what had just happened. No such luck. Some girls were looking at us from a few streets away, and a teenager across the street was studying us with a grin on his face.

“We're going home,” I told her. And that was the end of the conversation. She knew she was in trouble, she knew what I was going to do, and she knew there was nothing she could say or do to persuade me, so she just nodded. We headed over to her car, and she handed me the keys. Most of the time, Jessica would drive wherever we were going, but prior to a punishment, I was in charge in any way. As I got into the car, I glanced into the back seat and saw the clothing that she had worn when she left the house. She had obviously changed in the car. She was devious, I would have to give her that.

When we got home, I told her to go stand in the corner in the living-room. She knew better than to argue. I headed up to the bedroom to collect something. When I got back to the living-room, I was delighted to see Jessica stand in the corner, hands on her head, just as she was supposed to before a punishment. I put the item I had collected, down on the coffee table. I then sat down in the couch, studying the grown woman in the corner. I let her stand there for fifteen minutes before I called her over.

When Jessica turned around, the first thing she saw was the small ping-pong paddle on the table. Her pleading eyes turned to me, but I waved at her to stand next to me. I then asked her what I was about to do to her.

“You're going to turn me over your knee and spank me.” She said it as calmly as she could, but I could see the nervousness in her eyes.

“And why is that?” She hated these pre-spanking questions, which was the main reason I asked them. The other reason was that I really wanted her to know exactly why I was spanking her. If she didn't, the whole thing was ineffective, not to mention cruel.

“Because I dressed provocatively,” she replied, still trying to keep her voice steady.

“That's not the issue, Jessica,” I told her. “You're a grown woman, and my problem isn't the short skirt or anything like that.  My problem is that you hid it, you pretended to dress differently. In essence, you lied to me. You acted like a child, and that's why I'm treating you like one.” I patted my lap to signal that the conversation was over. She slowly leaned over, laying her body across the couch and burrowing her face in the cushions, and I flipped the short skirt up.

I started the spanking slowly, but the smacks were hard, and Jessica was “Ow”-ing at every single one. I didn't lecture her; the time for talking was over. I just lifted my hand and brought it down on the panty-covered cheeks in front of me.

Gradually the speed of the spanking increased, and soon, tears were silently rolling down her face, wetting the cushions. Her cheeks had by now turned lightly pink, and I concentrated on her sit spots. She started kicking her legs, and it was clear that she found it very uncomfortable.

I spanked on until her bottom was a light pink colour, warm and presumably stinging like crazy. I rubbed her bottom slightly, before I started taking off her skirt. I then put the skirt in front of her face.

“See that skirt? Your bare bottom is about to be that pink.” I pulled off her panties and picked up the ping-pong paddle. Jessica buried her face in the cushion again to prepare herself for what was to come.

I stepped up the spanking now, moving the paddle from cheek to cheek as quickly as possible. Jessica was sobbing loudly, promising me the world if I would spare her bottom. I didn't. I moved the paddle up and down her bottom, moving to the sit spots, painting her entire rear a deep pink.

When I was satisfied that her bottom was as pink as I had promised her, I put the paddle down and sat her on my lap. She leaned her head into my chest, crying into my shirt.

When she stopped crying, she rose to her feet, rubbing her bottom while glancing over her shoulder to look at the pink colour. I stood up, placed my arms around her and gave her a kiss.

“Now Jessica, do you know what I was doing down-town today?” She shook her head. “I wanted to know if you wanted to go to a café and sit and enjoy the sun.” I pointed out the window. “There's still time if you want.”

She smiled warmly at me, safe in the knowledge that she was forgiven. “Sure, let me just dry my tears and pick up a skirt.”

“There's one right here,” I pointed out.

She grimaced at me. “I don't think I want to show off my bottom right now, thanks.”

I smiled.