Computer girl (M/F story)

 Part I: The computer girl

There was a knock on the door, and a grinning face, framed by long blonde hair, popped into the room. "Hi, Jack. Is this a bad time for you?"

Jack Patterson looked up from the laptop. "Emily," he said with a short nod to her as she approached his desk. "Since you ask, I-"

"Great," she said as she pulled his laptop to the side. "Just got to install the latest updates – you want your hardware to function properly, don't you? Won't take a second." And without waiting for a response, she turned her back to him and bent over to fiddle around with the computer.

Part of him wished that this rudeness actually surprised him, but he'd worked with young Emily Hilton for months now, and she'd always been a bit inconsiderate. He was aware that computers needed to be updated to stay secure, but while he didn't have her expertise in computers, he wasn't sure that they needed to be updated quite that often. And even if they did, she could jolly well ask him if it was OK to borrow it for a second – and wait for a reply before barging on.

Her fingers moved over the keyboard too quickly for Jack to figure out just what she was doing. She leaned even further down to look at something on the screen, causing her to stick her bottom out in his direction. His eyes rested on her attractive rear end, barely covered by the short shorts she wore. Emily was a cheerful, attractive young lady, and had a habit of wearing midriff-baring shirts and short shorts – not very professional, but then again, very little that the girl did was ever all that professional.

"Well, Jack, I'm done, so you- oh!" She'd glanced back at him, and from the surprised look her eyes, he guessed that she had caught him staring at her. As she stood up, he wanted to say something, but wasn't exactly sure what the correct thing to say was when a co-worker caught you looking at her backside.

"Well, the computer is done now," she said, pushing it back to him. "And the next time I'm here, I suggest you keep those eyes of yours to yourself, mister," she said in mock seriousness, reaching forward and tapping his nose once.

As he watched her leave the room, he was sure she was wriggling her hips more than usual. Was it just his imagination, or was she teasing him?

As the door closed behind her, he shook his head. Coming to work dressed like a teenager, taking his computer, and now teasing him? "That girl needs a good spanking," he said quietly. The thought was mildly surprising to him, but unquestionably accurate.

Emily leaned against the closed door, feeling her heart thump in her chest. She greatly enjoyed these little visits to Jack's office. Jack was almost ten years older than her, and was a serious-looking man with dark hair, always impeccably dressed in a shirt and tie, even though the office had no dress code. Whenever she walked up and grabbed his laptop, he would glare at her in a way that sent shivers down her spine and caused butterflies in her stomach. She wondered how he'd look if he ever realized that she wasn't actually installing anything; she was just deliberately annoying him.

And now, she'd caught him staring at her bottom. The thought gave her a warm feeling inside; to think that she'd caused him to mess up like that. She smiled to herself, wishing she'd seen the look on his face as she wriggled her butt on the way out of the room.

She briefly wondered if she should return later that same day, but in the end, she decided to wait until tomorrow. No point in driving the man COMPLETELY insane.


"Hi, Jack. Everything OK here?" she said, poking her head in.

"Hello, Emily," he said as she walked across the floor. "I'm a bit busy right now, so if you could come back later today, I-"

"I need to install some more updates. New security measures, you know how it is," she said as she reached for his laptop.

"I understand that," he said, placing his hand firmly on the laptop to keep her from taking it. "But I am working on something important here, and I can't put it on hold just because -"

"Sure you can," she said cheerily, trying to pull the laptop towards her. When she was unable to wrest it from his grasp, she smiled down at him. "I'll be done in a second," she said, tapping his nose again, "show some patience."

Her rudeness had finally gotten to him, and he was too shocked to move as she pulled the laptop towards her. He could feel his anger growing as she bent over to start tapping her fingers on the keyboard again, with her backside towards him. Before he could stop himself, he'd leaned forward and placed a firm smack on the seat of her shorts.

She shot up, both hands clutching her rear end as she stared at him with a shocked expression. "Now you listen here, missy," he told her with as calm as voice as he could muster. "You cannot just burst into my office and do as you please. When I tell you to come back later, you come back later. Is that understood?"

There was a brief pause, and then she seemed to make up her mind about something. "Or what?"

"Pardon?"

"What exactly are you going to do to me if I don't listen?" The shocked expression was gradually being replaced with her usual smug grin.

For a brief moment, he wasn't sure how to proceed. He couldn't actually do this, could he? But the taunting look in her eyes was having an effect on him. "I'm going to take you across my lap and teach you a lesson," he told her firmly.

She chuckled. "You wouldn't dare."

He leaned forward and grabbed her wrist. Her eyes widened as he pulled her towards him, causing her to tumble over his lap. She squealed as a firm hand landed on her tight shorts.

"Ouch! That hurt!"

Not bothering to answer her, he placed his left hand on her back to hold her in place as his right hand continued to fall on her well-rounded backside.

"Ow! Stop that," she whined.

"I'll stop when I think you've had enough, and not a moment before," he growled. He spanked harder and faster now, intending to teach her a real lesson.

"Owiee!" she squealed, wriggling around. He noticed that despite her protests, she hadn't actually tried to stand up or reach back.

"Are you learning your lesson, young lady?" he said.

"You can't do this! You'll wear out the seat on my shorts!" she growled accusingly.

"Oh? Well, we can't have that, can we?" He grabbed the waistband, lowering her shorts to her knees to reveal a pair of blue cotton panties.

She stared wide-eyed up at him. "Wait, I didn't mean – Yeowch!"

Every volley of spanks delivered to her wriggling posterior caused her to energetically kick her legs, and soon, she was howling like a banshee. Are you sorry for what you did?" he said.

She glared up at him. "No! I'm GLAD I disturbed you, so there!"

He sighed. "I guess this just isn't enough yet." He reached for the waistband of her panties. "Let's see what we can do about that."

"Wait, can't we talk about – no, not my panties!" she pleaded. "Please, I'll be good!"

He ignored her protests, and her panties joined her shorts around her ankles. He noted that her bottom was just as round and appealing as he'd imagined. The skin had turned pink, but he noticed that her sit spots were still somewhat pale.

"Let's see if this changes your tune," he said, focusing a volley of particularly hard spanks on the lower parts of her bottom. She squealed, the pain causing her to arch her back.

When her bottom was beginning to turn red, he stopped the spanking. "Are you going to be a good girl from now on?"

"Yes, sir!" she said eagerly.

"Are you going to wait for me do finish what I'm doing before you take my computer?"

"Yes, sir!"

"And what is going to happen if you don't behave?"

She hesitated, so he gave her a few firm smacks. "Ouch! You're going to spank me, sir!"

"That's right," he said. He helped her to her feet, and she immediately started rubbing her bottom. He had to smile at the sight of a beautiful young woman, shorts and underwear at her knees, rubbing the sting out of a spanked backside. She looked at him, and to his surprise, she smiled back.

When she had gotten dressed, she walked over to him, leaned over and kissed him on the lips. "Thank you, sir," she said, and walked out of the room, leaving him staring after her with a shocked expression.

Part II: The Truth

There was a soft knock on the door, and Emily poked her head in. "Mister Patterson? May I come in?"

Jack had to smile to himself. It had now been a couple of days since he'd put his co-worker, the IT girl Emily Hilton, across his knee and spanked her bare bottom, and he was amazed at the change she'd gone through. She was polite and courteous, and asked for permission before disturbing him in his work. Her attire had also changed – the tight shorts had been replaced by a long skirt – but he believed that had more to do with comfort than anything else.

"I've told you, you can still call me Jack," he gently admonished her. "And yes, you may." She walked up to his desk. "So, how are you feeling?" he asked her.

"I'm doing fine. My butt's almost healed now." She then shocked him by turning around, lifting her skirt, and lowering her white cotton panties in one fluid motion. "See?" she said, looking over her shoulder at him. "All better."

"I'm glad," he said, his eyes locked on to her backside as he felt a stirring in his trousers. Emily was a very attractive woman, with a very shapely rear end, and the sight brought back some emotions he'd done his best to ignore.

"You know, you really did a number on my butt. I couldn't sit down for the rest of the day," she complained as she got dressed again.

"Are you saying you didn't deserve it?" he said with a smile.

She blushed. "No comment."

"So, did you stop by to update my computer again?"

"Nah, just wanted to chat. Most of the updates are handled automatically – there's no need to get IT involved."

He frowned. "But you've been in here more than once a week over the last month."

She grimaced. "Ah. Yes, you see… it's like this… you know, sometimes-"

He cut her off. "Emily, did you stop by so often just to annoy me?"

She bit her lip. "Um. No comment?" she said with a nervous grin.

He gave her his strictest glare. "Come over here, Emily."

She took a quick step back, both hands clutching her bottom. "No! Please, I'm sorry, and you have already spanked me!"

"I spanked you because you were being inconsiderate in your duties," he told her. "Now I find out those weren't even your duties; you were just annoying me? I'm going to give you what you WOULD have gotten earlier this week." He patted his lap. "Now come here."

On trembling legs, she inched forward, not sure whether she wanted to obey or run away. When she came close enough, he reached forward, grabbed her wrist, and jerked her over his lap. A second later, he'd raised her skirt over her waist, and was applying his firm palm to the seat of her panties as she squealed.

"Ouch! I'm sorry, I'm really sorry!"

"Oh, I believe you," he told her, his hand continuing to cover her backside in quick, but firm slaps. "But you're going to be a lot sorrier before we're done." He'd only been spanking her for a few minutes before reaching for the waistband of her panties. She whimpered a bit as he lowered them to her knees, but wisely decided not to protest.

She squealed and squirmed, kicking her legs as his hand continued its assault on her poor bottom. She was moaning loudly with every smack to her naked rear. But Jack quickly noticed that it didn't sound like moans of pain – or at least, not just that.

He paused the spanking to rub her bottom. As he did, his fingers moved slowly between her legs. She couldn't be…

She was soaking wet.

"Emily," he said slowly. "Is this turning you on?"

"Um…. No comment?" she said hopefully.

He continued the spanking as he tried to process this information. Was this why she'd been annoying him for so long? Had she been trying to provoke this exact reaction – or at least something similar? Had she even known what she was trying to accomplish?

She squealed, and her moans were louder than ever. Her bottom was turning bright red, and he guessed she'd have trouble sitting for a few days.

"Please, Jack, I..." she moaned.

"There's no use pleading, I'm not letting you up yet," he told her strictly.

"No… not that." Slowly, she spread her legs. "Please."

He smiled to himself, moving his fingers down and beginning to rub between her legs. As she started to moan, he quickly gave her another volley of hard slaps, before moving his hand between her legs again.

A few minutes later, he helped her off his lap, and placed her face-up on his desk. She grinned eagerly as he lowered his own trousers and underwear, and soon, he was inside her. She grinned contentedly, having achieved exactly what she'd never quite realized she wanted.

Temptation (F/F story)

Anna stepped out of the shower just as the doorbell rang. She smiled as she wrapped a towel around herself. Right on time.

Anna was in her late twenties, with long black hair and a beautiful face, and a body that could drive most men wild. Sometimes, she would open the door wearing nothing but a towel, just to watch the young delivery man stutter and try to look her in the eyes. Sometimes, she'd pretend to almost drop the towel, and when their eyes bulged, she would glare at them and tell them to keep their eyes to themselves. She probably shouldn't tease them like that, but it was so fun!

When she opened the door, she saw that her pizza was actually being delivered by a girl. She barely had time to register disappointment at that when the girl gasped, blushing red. Anna noticed that the girl was as incapable of looking her in the eyes as most men.

As the girl's eyes ran over her body, Anna studied her. The girl was a petite redhead about eighteen or nineteen years old, dressed in a green t-shirt and matching shorts. She wasn't particularly curvy, but she had a very cute face, which looked even more adorable as she blushed. Anna smiled to herself. Maybe she could have some fun after all.

She turned around and rummaged around in the drawer in the hallway table, pulling out a few bills. She always kept some money near the door. She tried to hand the money to the girl, but she was still staring open-mouthed, and didn't react. Anna reached her hand forward and gently grabbed the girl's chin, pushing her mouth closed. "Didn't your mother ever teach you that it's rude to stare?" Anna said in an amused tone. "If you don't keep your eyes to yourself, young lady, I might just take you inside and give you a good spanking."

The girl gasped, but Anna could tell that there was some part of the girl that wanted her to do exactly that. She reached down and touched the girl's name badge. "Jenny, is it?" She took the pizza and placed it on the hallway table. "I think you'd better come inside," she said, standing aside.

The girl still didn't move, so Anna placed her hand on the girl's shoulder and gently guided her inside. She led the unresisting girl into her bedroom, and told her to kneel on the bed. She then sat down next to her. "I think you'd better get over my knee, young lady," she said, patting her lap. This was going to be fun.

Slowly, still acting as if she was locked in a trance, Jenny leaned over her lap. Anna adjusted her position until the girl's bottom was sticking up, her head resting on Anna's pillow. Anna lifted her hand and gave the quivering backside in front of her a gentle smack, followed by another to the opposite cheek.

Her hand moved slowly at first, spending as much time massaging and pinching the girl's bottom as spanking. But soon, she increased the rate of the spanks, causing the girl to gasp as the sting in her backside grew. After a few minutes, Anna stopped the spanking, causing the girl to let out a disappointed moan.

"Oh, don't worry, Jenny," Anna said comfortingly. "We're not done yet." And she grabbed the waistband of the girl's shorts, slowly lowering them to her thighs. She licked her lips as an attractive little bottom came into view. "No panties, Jenny? How naughty of you." She rubbed Jenny's cheeks gently. "I'm afraid you'll have to be spanked extra hard for that."

The girl moaned as Anna's fingers moved between her legs, then retreated. Suddenly, Anna lifted her hand and gave her a hard smack, causing her to cry out. Anna continued to spank her wriggling bottom.

When Jenny's bottom had turned a pleasant pink, Anna helped the girl to her feet. As she reached back and started to slowly rub her stinging seat, Anna gave her a kiss on the lips. Jenny's hand reached for Anna's towel, but Anna slapped it away.

"Oh, what am I thinking of?" she said. "You're still at work, are you? I'm afraid we'll have to postpone this."

Jenny swallowed. "No! I don't… I'm sure we can..."

Anna raised an eyebrow. She grabbed the girl's shoulder and spun her around, delivering several hard smacks to her seat. "I told you 'not now', girl," she said strictly. "When I tell you something, I expect you to listen, got that?"

"Ow! Yes, ma'am!" Jenny squealed.

"Good." Anna spun her around again, giving her another kiss on the lips. "Are you working tomorrow?"

It took a few seconds for Jenny to get her breath back. "No, ma'am. It's my day off."

"Good. I want you to be here at, say, six in the evening. Can you do that for me?"

Jenny nodded eagerly. "Yes, ma'am, I'll do that."

"Good. I'll then give you the rest of the spanking..." she licked her lips. "And maybe something else."

She smiled to herself as the girl got back in her car and left. Tomorrow evening was going to be entertaining.

A few minutes before six, Anna was sitting on her couch, reading a novel as she waited for Jenny to arrive. Part of her had wondered if the girl would be early, eager to see what Anna had in store for her, but she also half expected the girl to arrive right on time – too intimated to do anything but exactly what she had been told to do. She was fairly certain that she wouldn't dare be late. And if she was, Anna would just have to find some way to punish her for it…

Right on time, the doorbell rang. Anna smiled as she went to open the door. Jenny was wearing a short, blue dress and a nervous smile, that quickly turned into an open-mouthed stare when she realized that Anna wore a half-open bathrobe, with nothing underneath.

"A- am I early? Should I wait while you finish -"

"Not at all," Anna said. "I'm already wearing everything I was planning to. In fact," she said as she let the bathrobe fall to the floor. "I think I was a bit over-dressed, don't you?"

Jenny's eyes ran over her body, drinking in every curve. Anna smiled, and grabbed Jenny's backside through her dress. "Come on in. We have a long evening in front of us."

This time, Anna led the girl into the living room. "You know, I think you're a bit over-dressed as well, don't you?" She turned Jenny around and began to look for the zip.

"Don't you think we're moving a bit too-" Jenny began.

"No," Anna replied. "I don't. I think you're very attractive, and I want to take you over my knee and spank you silly. Then, I want to carry you into my bedroom and screw you until morning. Is that OK with you?"

A low moan escaped Jenny's lips as Anna reached around and started to caress her breasts.

"I'll take that as a yes."

As she opened the zip, Anna began to pull down Jenny's dress, revealing a blue lace bra and matching panties. "Ooooh, fancy," she whispered as she nibbled on Jenny's ear. "But it'll have to come off as well." She quickly undid the bra, letting it fall as she pulled the girl's panties to the floor. Jenny seemed to be in a daze as Anna guided her to the couch. Anna sat down and pulled the girl over her knee.

"You've been a naughty girl," Anna cooed as she started to slap Jenny's unprotected posterior. "And now, I'm going to spank you." Like the previous evening, she started slowly, moving her hand from cheek to cheek, rubbing and squeezing Jenny's buttocks as she spanked. Jenny moaned, sticking her bottom up to meet Anna's hand. The girl was squirming around, lost in an ecstasy of pleasure, and Anna smiled to herself.

But she hadn't intended to be entirely gentle with little Jenny. Soon, the spanks got harder, and Jenny wriggled around as she let out little yelps of pain. Anna wrapped her arm around Jenny's waist, holding her firmly in place as her hand launched an aggressive assault on the pink posterior in front of her.

"Ouch! That hurts!" Jenny exclaimed.

Anna chuckled. "Spankings are meant to hurt, girl. Besides, don't tell me you aren't still enjoying this. I can see how wet you are." Her hand gently rubbed between Jenny's legs before continuing its attack on her squirming backside.

When Jenny's bottom had turned red, Anna decided to move on, and helped her into a sitting position. They kissed, Jenny's hand cupping Anna's breast as Anna rubbed the sting from the girl's bottom, her finger occasionally dipping between her legs. Finally, Anna got to her feet and picked her up. As she carried Jenny into her bedroom, she started to nibble on her ear. "And now, girl," she said seductively, "I'm going to make you a woman."

Chained (M/F story)

Melody took a deep, long breath, trying her best to calm her nerves. It didn't work. But then, when your hands are chained to a solid stone wall, in an almost empty dungeon, nervousness is only to be expected.

She didn't think she'd been here long – an hour or two since she had been brought down, she reckoned – but since she had no way to keep time, that was just a guess. Could be several hours, could be minutes. She shivered in her thin burlap dress, a rough, worn thing that ended shortly below her backside. It wasn't much for warmth, but it was something.

On a whim, she decided to press herself against the wall, trying to turn herself around to have a look around the dungeon. Unfortunately, the chain was too short, and all she could spot was a heavy table a few feet to her left. A sheet was covering it, but she thought she could see several items under the sheet, none of which looked all that soft and cuddly.

The air seemed to get even colder as she thought about what could be on that table, and she decided to stop looking around herself.

After a while, she heard the footsteps – heavy, regular footsteps, marching with a purpose, and heading in her direction. She heard a door open, and a man walked up to her. He was wearing a light leather armour, that in no way hid his bulging muscles, and a hood that hid his face.

“Your discipline will begin shortly,” he stated calmly.

“Discipline?” Melody asked, trying to swallow the lump in her throat.

The man chuckled softly. “It would not be right to call it punishment, since you've done nothing wrong – at least, nothing I am aware of. You're here because it delights the Lady of the Manor that you are here.”

“But -” Melody tried to protest, but the man put his hand over her mouth – gently, but with a squeeze that told her that he would only try being gentle ONCE.

“Maybe you do deserve it – if you try hard, you might think of some evil you should rightfully have been punished for. Or not, it makes no difference either way.”

He stuck his hand beneath the sheet – evidently, he planned to keep its content secret from her for now – and pulled out a large knife, grabbing the sheath with his right hand as he approached her. She stood completely still as he grabbed the rough dress, pulled it up and cut through the shoulder straps. He then let go of the dress, and it fell to the floor, pooling around her legs. She whimpered as she felt his eyes on her now naked, unprotected body; the dress had been thin and short, not much protection against either the wind or hungry gazes, but it was all she had, and now it was gone.

Having placed the knife back under the sheet, the man pushed Melody against the wall with his left hand, and with his right, he started to spank her, placing heavy smack after heavy smack on her unprotected bottom. She tried to squirm, to get away from the pain, but his hand on her back easily held her in place – and even if it didn't, she was still chained.

Melody decided to close her lips, to bear the pain in silence, so that he wouldn't get the satisfaction of knowing how much it stung – but that only seemed to egg him on, driving him to spank her harder and faster, and soon, tears were rolling down her face, and her brief resistance was forgotten.

Once he saw her tears, he nodded, cupping her backside as if to feel the warmth. Giving her a slight pinch, and nodding again as he saw her wince, he took a step back.

“Enough of a warm-up, I think.” Once again, he stepped over to the sheet. This time, he pulled out what looked like a riding crop. “Now, your discipline can truly begin.”

This time, he didn't push her against the wall. He didn't need to; no matter how much she squirmed and turned, the leather always found its mark, bringing a fresh sting to her already burning bottom. She was sobbing, leaning against the wall for support as he continued his assault, occasionally bringing the crop up to mark her lower back, or down to her thighs.

She couldn't take it any longer. Her voice cracking, she yelled at him. “That's enough! Now let me go!” For a second or two, he stood unmoving, crop raised as he looked at her. She threw herself back, trying to rip the chains out of the wall. “Let me go! Unchain me! Let me go!”

He took a step forward, embracing her as she cried. “Chalice?” he offered.

“That's it,” she said weakly. “Chalice.” In the pain, she'd forgotten their codeword.

“Are you ok, my lady?” he said as he unchained her, worry apparent in his voice.

“I'll be fine,” she reassured him.

Picking her up in his strong arms, he carried her up the stairs, making sure that he wasn't touching any of her marked flesh.

“The servants are ready, my lady. Jill is in your chambers, with a pot of ointments to take the sting away. She'll take care of you.”

She looked up at her loyal servant, intending to thank Nathaniel for his services, but she was too tired. These sessions always took a lot out of her, though usually, it wasn't as bad as it had been today.

She jumped a little as the cool ointment touched her backside – she hadn't noticed Jill examining her marks – but was soon relaxed as the servant rubbed it into her sore flesh. Luckily, she knew that no one would be needing Lady Melody, Mistress of the Manor, for a few days, so Melody, the young woman with the naughty secret, would be free to tend to her wounds in peace.

Babysitter's brush 3: Forgiveness (f/f story)

"Come on, Zoe, it wasn't that bad," I said.

We were in Zoe's bedroom, and Zoe was sitting on her bed, glaring at me.

I had started to hang out with Zoe because I was trying to get a spanking from her older sister Mary. A week ago, I had succeeded, by convincing Zoe that we should try to peek into Mary's room while she was out. She had come back unexpectedly, and to my great delight, I had managed to convince her that she should spank us – subtly, of course. I didn't want anyone to know about my desires.

Anyway, I had found out that Zoe was actually quite fun to be around, so I wanted to hang out with her more often. The problem was, she was angry at me because I had gotten us spanked. Looking back, I guess I didn't have to include her – I could have earned my spanking on my own – but I really wanted to watch someone else get it as well.

And now, she was angry with me. I don't like it when my friends are angry, least of all when I'm the reason.

"Not that bad?" she said angrily. "It hurt like hell. I couldn't sit down for days, Kate. DAYS!"

"Look, I'm sorry I wanted to peek into her room, okay? And it's not like I haven't paid for it. I got spanked, didn't I?"

"So did I," she pointed out. "And I didn't deserve it."

She was making sense. I hated when people I was arguing with, made sense.

"So you got a spanking," I said. "Big deal. It's not the end of the world, and-" I stopped. I smelled an opportunity. "I have an idea. I got you spanked, right?"

She nodded, wondering where I was going.

"I also got spanked, but I guess I kind of deserved it, so I owe you one. Right?"

She nodded again.

"That's the solution," I said. "You give me a spanking. Then we'll be even."

For several seconds, she just stared at me, mouth open. "What?" she said at last.

"I take a spanking, and you won't be mad at me anymore. Sounds good?"

She stared at me. "Do you WANT a spanking?"

Ah. She was getting uncomfortably close to the truth. "Of course not. They hurt, and they're humiliating. But I don't want you to be angry with me, either. So you give me a quick spanking, and I'm forgiven. Right?"

She thought about what I had just said. "At least it's not my butt on the line this time. Okay. I'll do it."

I could barely hide my grin. It was hard not to feel intellectually superior when everyone else was so easy to manipulate.

We headed over to my house. Zoe was really scared of getting caught, because if her parents came in to find me over her lap, she would be in a world of trouble. Luckily, my parents were out, meaning we had the place to herself.

She sat down on the bed, not really sure what to do. Fortunately for her, I was. I took off my jeans and panties, baring myself from the waist down.

"What are you doing?" she said, a little shocked.

"You got a bare-bottom spanking," I pointed out. "It's only fair that I get the same." She couldn't argue with that logic.

I climbed over her lap, wriggling around until I got comfortable. Zoe placed her hand on my butt, slightly scared of proceeding.

"Go ahead," I told her. "Spank me. I really want you to forgive me."

Zoe raised her hand, giving my cheeks a few light taps. I wanted to sigh in frustration; she was nowhere near as good at this as her sister. I wanted to egg her on, but that might be seen as slightly suspicious, so I didn't.

Luckily, Zoe got more confident, and soon, she was slapping away. I hid my face in the pillows, smiling. This felt good, but in a different way from Mary's bun busters.

All too soon, Zoe told me to stand up. I turned around to look at my bottom; it was barely pink. Zoe was turning out to be a very disappointing spanker.

"So, all forgiven?" I said. She didn't answer, just scowled. I sighed. "That means you didn't spank me hard enough, Zoe. I really want to be your friend again."

"My hand hurts," she said, pouting. Still angry about her spanking. This was getting annoying.

"I can fix that," I said, reaching into a drawer next to the bed. I'd collected a couple of implements, just in case I needed them. Also, I'd tried a bit of self-spanking; not as good as the real thing, but better than nothing.

"Here," I said, handing her a ping-pong paddle. "Use this."

I laid back across her lap.

Zoe was a lot more enthusiastic with the paddle than she had been with her hand. Maybe she didn't realize it hurt more, I don't know. At any rate, I certainly wasn't complaining. Well, I was, but only to mislead her.

She was really whacking away now, and I kicked my legs, surprised at how hard my timid little friend could spank. She couldn't hold a candle to her sister, of course, but I actually found it more enjoyable – calmer, a warm, but not too hot, glow spreading through my body.

So I enjoyed spanking, but preferred that it wasn't too hard? I was learning a lot about myself.

Suddenly, Zoe put the paddle down, helping me up and giving me a hug. Her tears mixed with mine as she said she was sorry she'd caused me pain.

I rubbed her back, comforting her, and telling her I was sorry I had gotten her spanked, and hoped I had her forgiveness.

We were sitting in the living room, watching TV, when my parents came home an hour later. They never noticed how much I was squirming.

Babysitter's brush 2: Making an effort (F/ff story)

Getting my bottom spanked became something of an on-going quest after that. Sure, getting my cheeks painted red by Mary's brush was painful, there was no denying it. But somehow, that was completely eclipsed by the pleasure. It didn't make sense, but it was true.

Now, Mary had a sister who was about my age: Zoe. I had hung out with her a couple of times, but we weren't that close. I planned to change that. If I hung out with Zoe, at her place, that was one step closer to Mary and that horrible, wonderful brush of hers. Of course, being in the same house as Mary wasn't enough to make her spank me, but I was prepared to make the effort.

One day, Zoe let slip that her sister had ONE unbreakable, "just-don't-do-it" rule: Do Not Enter Her Room. Not ever. I could barely contain my grin.

"Kate, I don't think this is a good idea," Zoe whispered as I opened the door, peeking in. We knew Mary wasn't home, but still, it was a little bit intimidating.

"There's nothing to be afraid of," I told her. "She's not home."

"She could be, any second," she answered, glancing around nervously as I thumbed through a stack of magazines I found on a table. Nothing too interesting, I concluded.

"Scaredy cat," I giggled as I looked at Mary's make-up table. Quite a lot of gunk here, I concluded, but nothing that would serve my interests. I felt a sense of awe as I picked up her hairbrush. I patted it against my palm, shivering with delight as I thought about how Mary had spanked me with it.

I put it down again. There had to be something here I could use to make her angry.

"We should go," Zoe said, but I didn't hear the rest of her sentence. I had found something far more interesting. On a small table next to the bed, I found the answer to my dreams, the Holy Grail of Brats, the perfect object if you want to annoy an older sibling – or any other teenager.

In my hands, I was holding Mary's diary.

"Check this out," I said, holding it up for Zoe to see. She stared wide-eyed at it.

"Where did you find that?"

"On the table." I opened it up, starting to read it.

"You shouldn't do that," she said, biting her lip.

"I'll just have a quick look," I replied. "Don't worry." I didn't tell her that I was pretty sure I had just heard the front door open. "Look at this," I said, holding the diary towards Zoe. Nervously, she peeked over, reading the paragraph I had pointed out.

It was at that exact moment that the door opened, and Mary stepped in. Zoe squealed, turning pale as Mary looked from her, to the diary, to me, growing angrier by the second.

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

"I'm sorry," I said, looking down. Partly because I had to seem shameful, like a child with its hand in the cookie jar, and partly to hide the grin.

"Give me that!" she said, tearing the diary from my hand. "I'm going to tell your parents about this!"
She turned to Zoe. "Just wait until mum and dad hears about this!"

Ah. My brilliant plan had hit a snag. My parents might ground me, and I really didn't want to spend the next few days indoors. In addition, this would mean I wouldn't get a spanking. Meaning my efforts would have been for naught.

But how to ask for a spanking, without revealing that I was, in fact, asking for a spanking? I looked up at her. "Please! They'll ground me for a week!"

"What, you expect me to just forget about this? No way?"

"But couldn't you -" I stopped, seemingly changing my mind, and looked away.

"What?" Mary said, curious.

"Nothing."

"What were you about to say?"  A strict tone was creeping into her voice, causing a delightful tingling in my stomach.

"Well... when I was at Maggie's, and we broke that vase, you didn't call my parents. You..." I waved my hand.

"I spanked your butt bright red, yes." There was that delightful tingling again. I quite liked talking to Mary.

"Well... I really don't want to be grounded. " I looked up at her. "Couldn't you..."

"Couldn't I spank your bratty little behinds instead?" She smiled. "Not a bad idea, Kate."

"No way," Zoe said, backing away from her sister with both hands in front of her bottom. "You can't do that." It was clear that Mary didn't have the spanking privileges at home that she did while babysitting. Which meant that Zoe had never felt her sister's brush. Poor thing.

"Zoe, please!" I said, turning towards her. I needed to convince her to go along with this. Partly because Mary would be more likely to spank if it were both of us, partly because their parents might tell mine, and as I said, I really didn't want to be grounded. But mostly, I really wanted to watch someone being spanked. It was almost as much fun as getting it yourself. "I really don't want to get grounded. It'll be painful, sure, but it'll at least be over quick." I tried my most pleading eyes. "Please?"

She looked at me, and sighed. "I'll take the spanking," she said.

"Good," Mary said, a wide smile on her face. "Bring me that brush." Zoe picked up the brush as if it was a snake ready to strike, and eyed it suspiciously before handing it to her sister. Mary sat down on the bed, patting the brush against her palm. "Which one of you brats want to be first?"

"I'll do it," I said, trying to sound reluctant as I rose to my feet. In reality, sitting on a warm rear end while watching Zoe get hers sounded heavenly.

Mary unbuttoned my jeans, pulling them down to my knees, with my panties going the same way. I had never had my trousers pulled down before, which was the reason I'd chosen them instead of a skirt.

I found myself over her lap, my bottom high up as I waited for that first smack. I didn't have to wait long. Mary started spanking me, putting as much effort into it as she had last time. "You little brats are not allowed in here," she said, as the brush landed again and again on my hind quarters. "I hope you're learning your lesson from this."

"Ow! Please, I won't do it again," I said, squirming around over her lap. I meant it, too; next time, I was going to do something completely different. That was part of the fun. "Please, stop! I've learnt my lesson, honest!" Of course, if she actually stopped, I would have been severely disappointed, but I didn't want her to know that.

"Oh no, not yet. You've asked for it, and now, you're getting it."

By the time she let me up, my bottom was bright red, and felt like it was on fire. I pulled my jeans up, and as I sat down on the bed to watch Zoe get hers, I realized another advantage to wearing trousers over a skirt; the heat was trapped in the fabric, meaning that there was more of that warm, lovely glow in my nether regions.

Watching my spanking had obviously made Zoe nervous, and she was trembling as her sister pulled her trousers down. Soon, she found herself over her sister's lap as Mary lifted her brush.

Zoe cried, kicking her legs from the pain, and I felt a pang of guilt. Zoe didn't enjoy this the way I did, so it was somewhat cruel of me to include her in my plans. Was it right of me to cause her this pain?

Meh. I'd make it up to her later. For now, it was time to sit back and enjoy the show. Of course, I couldn't show that I was actually enjoying it, but that was easy. My face was still red from crying, so I just reached up and rubbed away the tears whenever I needed to hide a grin.

Back on her feet, Zoe jumped from foot to foot, trying to rub the sting out of her bottom in what I would later learn was usually referred to as the 'spanking dance'. It was one of the funniest sights I'd ever seen.

"Now, get out. If I ever see you in here again, you'll get TWICE what you just got."

That sounded a bit much to me, so we ran from the room. I went home shortly after that; I wanted to get a good look at my bottom in the mirror again. The sight of those warm cheeks warmed my heart in a way I didn't understand.

Babysitter's brush 1: The Vase (F/ff story)

I watched with a mounting sense of dread as the vase wobbled, then tipped over and started to fall. Maggie threw herself forward, trying to catch it before it hit the ground, and for a brief moment, it looked like she would be successful.

She wasn't. The vase landed inches away from her out-stretched arms, fracturing into tiny pieces. Maggie rose to her feet with a look of impending doom on her face that must have mirrored mine. We were In Trouble.

"Maggie Henderson! Did I, or did I not, tell you not to run around in the house?" Mary, Maggie's babysitter, was standing in the doorway, hands folded in front of her as she glared at her young charge.

Mary was a high school student, the daughter of one of Maggie's mother's friends. She was tall, blonde and pretty, and usually friendly and smiling. At the moment, she wasn't.

"I'm sorry, Mary," Maggie said, staring at the carpet.

"And you!" Mary said, turning to glare at me. I almost wet myself under those piercing eyes. "Kate, I told you to behave tonight, didn't I? Well, you're going to learn that misbehaving under my watch has consequences."

She sat down on one of the dining room chairs and reached into her purse, pulling out a large, wooden hairbrush. What was going on? "Come here, Maggie!"

"But you can't … Not in front of Kate, please!" Maggie said, waving towards me.

"Don't worry about Kate," Mary said with a cold look towards me. "She's next."

I still wasn't entirely sure what was going on, but I didn't like the sound of that.

"Now come here, Maggie. You don't want to make me come and get you."

Kate slowly inched towards Mary, scared of going forward, but not daring to stand still. When she got close enough to the babysitter, Mary reached forward, raising her skirt and pulling down her panties. Then, she pulled the girl over her lap.

"I hope you're going to behave from now on," she said, raising the brush in her hand, before bringing it crashing down on Maggie's bare, quivering, unprotected cheeks.

Maggie cried out as stroke after stroke landed on her rear end. I gasped. Mary was spanking her! Maggie was actually being spanked, right in front of my very eyes! I had never seen a spanking before. I'd read about them, off course, but actually seeing one was quite different. I have to admit, it was a funny sight, Maggie kicking her legs and yelling her head off as her butt gradually turned more and more pink. I felt guilty for enjoying it.

A cold shiver ran down my back as I remembered Mary's comment: "She's next." The meaning became dreadfully clear. Mary was going to spank ME!

I bit my lip as Maggie's spanking continued. On the one hand, I wanted her spanking to last as long as possible, as that meant that my own butt-warming would be postponed. On the other, I couldn't see any reason why Mary would be any less strict with me than she was with Maggie, so I SHOULD hope her spanking was short.

Maggie was sobbing loudly before Mary finally let her off her lap. As soon as she was back on her feet, Maggie danced around, trying to rub the sting out her cheeks as the tears rolled down her face. Mary gave the crying girl a hug, rubbing her back and telling her she was forgiven, before turning towards me, her eyes suddenly cold. "Come here, Kate."

I froze. That brush looked more intimidating than any brush had any business doing. It was big and thick and hard, and Mary planned to slap it against my bottom until I cried. No thank you.

"Do as she says, Kate," Maggie said, drying her tears as she pulled her panties up. "It'll be easier. Trust me."

Somehow, I found the courage to step forward. Just like Maggie, I found my skirt raised and my panties lowered to my knees, before being whisked over Mary's lap. It was weird, lying there with my bare bottom in the air, with the soft skin of Mary's legs beneath me. But mostly, I thought about the brush, looming somewhere above my poor, defenceless bottom.

"I hope this teaches you to behave in the future," Mary said. She may have said something else, as well, but at that moment, an explosion of pain appeared on my left cheek, followed by an ever bigger one on the right. Soon, the sharp sound of hard wood on soft bottom rang out in the room, accompanied by a pain I hadn't thought possible.

But something strange was going on. Somehow, even though my bottom felt like it was on fire, even though I was kicking my legs from the pain and crying like I'd never cried before... I was enjoying it. I couldn't believe it. Somehow, I was enjoying the pain, it felt good, it felt... RIGHT. Part of me wanted to get off her lap and run, get as far away from the awful sting of that horrible brush as I could. But a different, greater part of me wanted to stay right where I was, in that strange mix of pain and pleasure, forever if at all possible.

I don't understand why. I doubt I ever will. But there was no doubt in my mind, none at all, about what I felt.

Then, my spanking was over. Mary helped me to my feet, and I tried to rub the sting out of my poor, aching cheeks, probably looking as silly as Maggie had. Mary gave me a hug and told me I was forgiven, and with a last slap to my posterior, she sent us off to continue playing.

I didn't tell my parents what had happened. Partly because I didn't know if they would punish me more, and partly because it felt secret. Shameful, in a way. When I got home, I stepped into the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror with my panties down, studying my bottom in the mirror. It was red and sore, and looked like it had been through hell.

I promised myself that somehow, I would experience it again.

Her fantasy (M/F story)

Amber studied her boyfriend's face closely, eager to know his reaction, but also fearing what it might be. Unable to decipher his expression, she bit her lip. "So… what do you think?"

Jason took a deep breath. "It's… it's a surprise, certainly," he said at last. "I didn't really expect that from you. To think that you want to be spanked..."

A strange tingling ran down her spine as he spoke the s-word. "I don't know if it 'want'. Maybe I NEED to be…" she tried to repeat the word, but couldn't. "...dealt with." Her large eyes looked nervously at him.

He shrugged. "It's a bit strange, I have to say. But if this is what you want… why not? Sure, I'll do it."

Her face lit up, and she ran forward to hug him, burying her face in his chest. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

He was surprised at the reaction, but reached down and placed his finger under her chin. Lifting her head, he placed a kiss on her lips. "Anything for the pretty lady."

They sat down on the couch, and with a trembling voice, she slowly told him her fantasy.

An hour later, Jason was standing in the living room. He wondered how much he really looked like a strict teacher in his suit and tie.

Amber had taken one of the kitchen chairs and placed it against the wall. She had then gone to the bedroom to change, and would be knocking on the door when she was done. His mind started pondering the strangeness of the current situation, but he shook it away. Amber wanted him to do this, so he would do his best.

After a few minutes, there was a knock on the door. Jason took a deep breath. "Enter," he said as calmly as he could.

Amber entered the room, and Jason was shocked at the transformation she'd gone through. She was dressed in a schoolgirl uniform, with a white blouse and a black skirt that was probably just a little too short for most school regulations. She was also wearing long white knee socks, and a pair of small black shoes.  He was quite certain that he'd never seen any part of that outfit before.

She had removed every part of her make-up, and her long blonde hair was now in pigtails. She now looked like a teenager, rather than the hard-working twenty-five-year-old she really was.

Managing to keep the surprise out of both his face and his voice, he looked sternly at her. "Ah, Amber Winter. Come in, girl."

She approached him nervously, not quite able to meet his gaze. "You sent for me, Mister Hamilton?"

"That's right. Can you think of any reason why?"

She squirmed a little. "N-no, sir. Nothing springs to mind."

"Well then, let's jog your memory a little. You were supposed to hand in your English lesson during class today. When I went through the pile today, I noticed one name that was curiously absent – and not for the first time, either."

"Please, sir, I'll do it later, I promise."

"You certainly will – and you'll be doing it on a sore bottom, too. Fetch the chair."

"But sir!" she said, pleading, but not quite able to keep the enjoyment out of her eyes.

"Now, Amber!"

On shaking legs, she walked over to the wall, picked up the kitchen chair and carried into the centre of the room. It was a heavy, wooden straight back chair without armrests. Once she'd placed it in position, he sat down and patted his lap. "Let's not waste any more time, girl. Over my knee."

Slowly, she leaned forward, placing her weight on his thighs. Like she had advised him, he gently guided her forward until her head was near the floor and her backside was lifted over his lap. With one hand on her back to hold her in place, he used the other one to flip up her skirt, revealing two pale, firm domes, covered by a pair of thin white cotton panties.

"I think we'll start with a quick warm-up over your panties."

"Yes, sir."

He lifted his hand and gave her left cheek a firm spank, surprised at the loud smack it produced. He gave her right cheek an equally firm slap, before slapping her left cheek again. Soon, his hand was moving from cheek to cheek in a quick rhythm.

"Ouch!" she squealed theatrically. "It really hurts, sir!" she said unconvincingly.

"It's supposed to hurt, Amber. Maybe this will finally teach you to behave!"

He continued to spank her for several minutes, watching her bottom ripple from every spank. After a while, he placed his fingers in the waistband of her panties.

"No! Not on the bare, sir! Please let me keep my panties," she said, wriggling her bottom enticingly in a manner that completely contradicted her words.

Slowly but firmly, he peeled her panties down, revealing a gorgeous bottom that was just beginning to turn pink. "With the warm-up complete, it's time to begin your real punishment," he said dramatically, giving her bottom a hard slap.

As his hand continued to strike her bottom, she arched her back and moaned in a very intimate manner, wriggling her bottom with every slap. It was clear she was enjoying herself – and Jason discovered that he was quite enjoying himself as well. His erection was pressing into her stomach, trying to burst free of his grey trousers.

Slowly, but surely, the once-pale cheeks turned pink. By the time he stopped the spanking and told her to stand, her entire bottom was red. Her hands flew back to rub, and she moaned loudly as she gingerly rubbed the sting away.

"Was it what you wanted?" he asked her.

"Ooh. Everything I hoped for, and yet so much more," she said dreamily.

"Good to hear." He walked over and planted a kiss on her lips. She hissed in pain and lust as his hand reached around to grab her backside. "Because I think we should head for the bedroom and-"

"No!" she said suddenly, causing him to start. "No. Not yet."

"I know you're as horny as I am," he told her. "I could smell you while you were over my knee. Your-"

"I know, but not yet," she insisted. "You did great, but a naughty schoolgirl isn't fully punished when her teacher is done."

He looked confused, so she explained the second part of the fantasy.

A few hours later, Jason was sitting on the couch in the living room. After her explanation, they had changed back into their regular clothes, and then prepared dinner. He'd found himself quite enjoying the sight of her squirming around on her chair, and when she'd caught his gaze, she had blushed and smiled happily. She wanted to give her backside a few hours to heal before continuing, so it was evening before she'd gone to the bedroom to change into her new outfit.

His new outfit was a simple cardigan and his regular jeans. No longer the strict teacher, he was now the uncompromising father, ready to deal with any nonsense that came his way.

He glanced at his watch. It was now eight. "Amber!" he shouted over his shoulder.  "Come here. I want to talk to you."

As his girlfriend entered the room, he was once again struck by the change she had gone through.  She was still in pigtails, and not wearing any make-up, but she was now wearing pink two-part pyjamas that would have looked at home at a child's sleepover. She was clutching an old stuffed bunny as if it was her only friend in the world.

"What is it, daddy?" she said.

"You got in trouble in school today, didn't you?"

"Uh huh." She gave an exaggerated nod.

"The teacher had to give you a spanking, didn't he?"

"Uh huh," she said again, rubbing her backside with one hand while the other still clutched her bunny. "It really hurt."

"Well, it's about to hurt a lot more," he told her. "You know the rule – spanked at school, spanked at home."

"But daddy!" she whined. "I've already been punished!"

"And now, you're going to be punished again," he told her, beckoning her over. Once she'd inched her way over to him, he grabbed her arm and pulled her over his lap. As she lay on the couch, her pink-clad bottom was poised over his lap, and she squealed as the first slaps landed on her waiting posterior.

"Please, daddy, not so hard," she said, her wriggling backside once again contradicting her words. "I'm sorry."

"You're going to be a lot sorrier by the time I'm done," he promised, as his hand continued to impact her rear end.

After a few minutes of squealing, he decided to lower her pyjama bottoms and see what she was wearing underneath. He had a feeling it would be something childish, with cartoon bunnies covering her seat, but it was also possible that she wasn't wearing anything beneath. So it was quite a shock when he pulled them down to find a black satin thong. He paused. What exactly did this mean?

Amber was confused for a second. Why had he stopped? Suddenly, she remembered what she was wearing. "Oh, Jason, I'm sorry! I forgot to change my underwear."

Taking control of the situation, Jason quickly pulled the thong down to her knees. "My name is 'daddy'," he told her strictly. "And no daughter of mine is going to wear something like THIS to bed." And he delivered a hard volley of spanks to her now-bare bottom that caused her to cry out and kick her legs.

She yelped and wriggled as his firm palm continued to paint her backside red. Despite the pain and humiliation – or perhaps because of it – she could feel herself growing wetter, and she moaned loudly as his erection pressed into her stomach.

By the time he helped his red-bottomed girlfriend to her feet, she could no longer hold herself back, and she eagerly jumped up with her knees in the couch, kissing him passionately.

"I want you," she whispered. "I NEED you."

With a chuckle, he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom.

House Guests Part 2: Curiosity (M/F story)

Sophie never let her punishments put her down for long. She sulked in her room for the rest of the evening, but by morning, she was chatting away at the breakfast-table as if nothing was wrong. Annie, however, didn't really make eye-contact with me, though I caught her glancing over at me a couple of times when she thought I wasn't looking. She seemed somewhat intimidated, and I wondered whether Sophie had told her about her punishment after all, or if she had just guessed why Sophie was sitting on a pillow at the table. Or maybe it was something else.

She continued acting weird around me for a couple of days. Then, that Saturday, Sophie decided to head into town to do some shopping. She asked me if I wanted to come, but I declined. There wasn't really anything I needed in town, and carrying shopping bags for the two girls didn't sound like an enjoyable afternoon.

"I'm staying as well," Annie told her friend. "I'm not feeling too well today, and besides, there's a few things I'd like to get done today."

"Suit yourself," Sophie said with a shrug. "More room in the car for my stuff, then."

With a glare that was perhaps a little bit sterner than I had intended, I reminded Sophie that she didn't have quite as much money as she sometimes seemed to think, and that I didn't want to have to bail her out of her bills if she overspent again. Sophie blushed, and assured me that she'd be careful. Annie looked out the window, as if she suddenly found something interesting, but I noticed that, for some reason, her blushing face was even redder than Sophie's.

About ten minutes after Sophie had left, Annie entered the living room where I was enjoying a good book and a cup of freshly brewed tea. Still not quite able to look me in the eye, she asked if she could sit down. Slightly curious at her odd behaviour, I nodded. I decided not to ask any questions, but let her tell me herself.

Twice she opened her mouth, but couldn't find the words she was looking for, and closed it again. I waited patiently, not wanting do disturb, and she opened her mouth for the third time.

"You know that night I went to the pub, while Sophie stayed behind to watch old series?"

I nodded. This was the same night I'd put Sophie across my lap and paddled her little backside for her laziness.

"I… about ten minutes after I left, I noticed I had left my scarf, so turned around." She took a deep breath, and continued. "I heard some strange noises when I entered, so I decided to sneak forward and figure out what was going on, and …." The lump in her throat seemed to have grown, and she looked away, blushing furiously.

"... And you saw me giving Sophie a good spanking," I finished. She nodded.

Her behaviour made a lot more sense. She'd not only known that I'd pulled her best friend over my knee and spanked her backside bright red, but she'd also actually seen it happen. No wonder she seemed almost afraid of me.

"So," she began, but again, she hesitated. I let her continue. "Do you treat all your guests like that?"

Was this it? Was she scared that she'd end up over my knee, studying the carpet just like my cousin had done? I gave her my most reassuring smile. "Don't worry. Sophie just needs a guiding hand from time to time. You're quite safe, that only happens to the really naughty girls."

Again, she blushed furiously, and looked at me. "How naughty do I have to be?"

I stared at her. Was she asking me what I thought she was asking me? She then leaned forward, moving her hand to the teacup on the table. Slowly, she tipped it over, the liquid pouring out over the table surface. At least she'd have the good sense to tip it away from my book.

So. The young, attractive woman living in my house had just asked me for a spanking.

"On your feet," I told her. She rose, and I beckoned her over with a crooked finger. She was wearing a pair of tight jeans that showed off her curves, and I started to unzip them. She bit her lip as I pulled her trousers down to her knees – it was clear that was a bit scared about what was going to happen.

I guided her gently over my lap, positioning her bottom over my knee, so that it was lifted up to meet my hand. "You have been a bad girl, Annie," I told her in a voice that almost sounded strict. "I'm going to give you a good spanking."

"I'm sorry," she said. She smiled, but it was a nervous smile.

"Not as sorry as you're going to be," I told her as I started the spanking. She bit her lip as the first smacks landed, and I could sense how scared she was. But I started off slowly and gently – this was, after all, not a real punishment – and after a while, she lifted her butt to meet my hand with every single smack, a wide grin on her face as she wriggled her rump.

Deciding to take it a step further, I placed my thumbs in the waistband of her blue knickers, and started to pull them down. I bared her bottom, marvelling at the glowing orbs poking up at me.

I spanked her harder and faster, and though he did start yelping in pain after a while, she never once protested or asked me to stop. But after a while, I helped her to her feet, and she started to rub the sting out of her bottom. Was that disappointment on her face?

"Are you going to apologize for your naughtiness?" I asked. She reached towards the now-empty cup, pushing it off the table onto the carpet, with a gleam in her eye that told me more than words could.

"In the top drawer of my nightstand, there's a small paddle. Fetch it," I told her. She stepped out of her jeans and panties and did as I asked, her backside swaying invitingly back and forth with every step she took. I was beginning to enjoy this far more than I'd ever have thought possible.

She presented the paddle to me, and when I'd taken it, I patted my lap. "Over here so your punishment can continue." She leaned forward, eagerly awaiting what was coming her way. I think she surprised even herself with how much she was enjoying it.

I have no idea how long that firm wood smacked against her quivering backside, but by the time I was finished, her rear end was glowing red, and she was panting loudly with tears down her face.

"Have you learned your lesson?" I asked her as I helped her to her feet.

"Yes, sir," she said, "I've learned my lesson." After rubbing the sting from her seat, she reached forward and pulled me to my feet by my shirt, her lips finding mine for a long, breathless kiss.

"So, I've been led to understand that when a girl has been REALLY naughty, she's sent to bed without supper," she said. "Care to keep me company, sir?"

There are some offers I just can't refuse.

House Guests Part 1 (M/F story)

"Hi, Lance. How are you doing?" my cousin screeched as I answered the phone, her voice rising to a pitch that no human voice should ever reach.

"I'm doing well, Sophie. You too, I hope? So what do you want this time?"

While I couldn't see her face, there was no doubt in my mind that she was pouting. "Can't a girl just phone her favourite cousin? Does there has to be something she wants?"

"Yes, it does. What is it?" I said. Sophie never called if she didn't need anything – but that had never bothered me; I'd felt protective of the little brat for a decade, and didn't mind helping her out with what she wanted – or needed.

"Well, now that you mention it, there was a little thing I was hoping you could help me with..."

And she told me the whole story. Basically, she'd been accepted to a college not too far from where I lived – but miles from where she was currently living. She'd tried to find a place to stay, but with no luck. And since the semester was starting soon, she was getting a bit desperate.

Meanwhile, I lived in a small house I'd bought a few years ago; a house that was slightly too large for my needs. She'd asked if she could stay for a while, and I accepted. We agreed that she'd come down with her stuff the following Monday, and I returned to my cup of tea and newspaper. I shook my head, wondering how Sophie would do at college; she'd never had a head for books.


By Monday, I'd cleared the guest bedroom, and cleaned the house – not that there was much mess in the first place. Shortly after noon, I heard the familiar sound of Sophie's little old Volvo puttering to a stop outside. I stepped outside to greet her, and smiled at the sight of my favourite relative: a short girl with red hair, more energy than was good for her, and a chronic inability to consider the consequences of her actions.

I'd expected the car to be full of suitcases, and it was. I'd never known Sophie to pack lightly even for a vacation, and she was planning on staying here for some time. What I hadn't expected was the tall, black-haired woman sitting next to her; a young woman about Sophie's age, but seemingly less manic. A friend that she'd brought along to help move suitcases, perhaps?

The woman stepped towards me, holding out her hand. "Mister Kelling? I'm Annie, Sophie's friend that she told you about? I just wanted to say how grateful I am that you decided to let us stay here. I don't know what we would have-"

She must have seen the expression on my face, because she stopped mid-sentence, a worried look suddenly crossing her face. "Sophie DID ask you whether we could stay, didn't she?"

"She told me she was coming," I said, glaring at my cousin. "She neglected to tell me about any friends, however."

Sophie thought hard for a brief second. "Did I? I'm sure that I-" Suddenly, a shocked look crossed her face. "OH! Sorry, I forgot!" She squirmed a little as I continued to glare at her.

"I am SO sorry, mister Kelling," Annie said, suddenly quite pale. "I didn't mean to spring this at you! Just forget about it. I'll find a hotel room for a few days, and I'll see if I can find an apartment that's within -"

I shrugged. "Don't worry about it, I'm sure I can find a solution. There's enough room here."


After we'd carried the suitcases inside, I placed a mattress on the floor of the guest bedroom. "You two can share a room for tonight, right? I'll clear out the study tomorrow, see if I can set it up as a proper bedroom." I looked around the room. "It's a bit small for two, I'll admit, but I wasn't prepared for two guests."

"It's more than enough, you've been very kind," Annie told me. "The mattress is fine."

I smiled at her. "Just take the bed for tonight, Sophie can sleep on the mattress. It's her fault, after all." She started to protest, but I waved it off. "Just do as I say, OK?"

A few hours later, Annie had gone to bed, and I was sitting in the living room with Sophie, as she channel-surfed, a large cup of cocoa in her hand. She giggled nervously. "You know, when you glared at me like that in the drive-way, I was honestly scared. No, more than that, I was TERRIFIED of what you might do."

I frowned. "What, you feared for your safety?" I was wounded; I'd never considered myself an angry man, and especially not a dangerous one.

"Of course not. Well, the safety of PART of me, perhaps. The part I'm sitting on."

"You'd thought I'd drag you inside and spank you?" I asked.

"No, I thought you were going to pull me under your arm right then and there." She shuddered. "Raise my skirt and whack me long and hard in front of my friend and your neighbours."

I paused for a second. "To be perfectly honest, I can't say that I didn't consider it briefly," I told her. "You certainly deserved it."

She gave me a nervous smile. "What, you still see it as your duty to make sure I behave?"

"Only because you don't," I countered. Back when Sophie was thirteen, her parents had been going through some sort of crisis, and they'd been too occupied with other things to give Sophie the attention and discipline she needed. I was living nearby, and took on the duty of providing her with both; a kind word here and there, and a hand when and where it did the most good.

I'd never imagined at the time that I would still be providing her with both services half a decade later, but the year she turned eighteen, I found her stepping out of her father's car, completely wasted. I gave her one of the hardest spankings of her life that night, and as far as I know, she never drove drunk again.

Now, she was twenty, and I wasn't completely sure I wouldn't put her over my knee again.


Annie was a kind woman, and very respectful towards me – it took me a week before she agreed to call me "Lance" rather than "Mister Kelling" - she seemed hard at work in her studies, and she helped around the house as much as she could. I think she felt guilty about the day she arrived.

Sophie, on the other hand, had a less successful stay at my house. Now, she was a kind person, when she cared to show it, and while she was far less respectful, I didn't particularly care. But the part about studying hard and helping out was the one she really failed at. She would dive into her work one week, before devoting her time to partying for a week or two instead – seemingly incapable of rationing her time.

I decided to have a little chat with her, the sort of talk I knew had an effect on her – but I wanted to have that chat while Annie was out. I wanted to preserve some of Sophie's modesty. So, one evening, only minutes after Annie had left to go to the pub, I knocked on Sophie's door and asked if she could come into the living room for a chat.

"What is it you want?" she sighed as she entered the room. "Couldn't this wait? I was watching some old episodes of -" She spotted the small object I'd placed on the table; a small, wooden circle with a handle attached. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat as she recognised my old paddle. And she should recognise it; it used it on her bare behind so often, the paint was starting to fade.

"Have a seat, Sophie," I told her, nodding towards a chair. "I wanted to have a chat with you."

"About what?" Sophie said, leaning back in her chair to get as much space between the paddle and herself, as if she expected it to jump up and bite her.

"About your studies. About the way you don't seem to pay college enough attention."

"But we already talked about that," she told me. "There's no need for it."

"We did, and it didn't help. You're still not studying. I was considering something more memorable than just talking this time."

She pouted. "But Lance, that paddle hurts!"

I nodded. "That's the point. Don't you agree that your work has been sloppy? That you deserve a little reminder to help you focus?"

"No," she said sulkily. "But I expect you're going to spank me anyway, right?"

I nodded, before leaning back and patting my lap. "Come here, Sophie."

With the saddest look she could muster, she moved closer to me, finally bending over my knees. I pushed her forward to settle her over my lap. Gently, but firmly, I started to lower her thin cotton shorts.

"Lance," she whined as she tried to raise herself up. "Can't you leave my shorts on?"

I pushed her back down, and with her shorts lowered, I moved my thumbs to the waistband of her panties. "Every spanking should be delivered to the bare bottom, Sophie. You know that."

She whimpered a bit when her panties joined her shorts at her knees, but didn't move again. With slow, firm smacks, I began to spank her backside with my hand. She yelped as the sting in her seat slowly grew, every smack causing another little wriggle of her rear end.

"You don't have to do this anymore," she told me earnestly, still trying to talk me out of it. "I'll study harder, I promise!"

"Oh yes, you will," I told her. "You'll study, and for the first few nights, you'll do it on a cushion, or standing up, I'll see to that. Maybe a sore bottom will help you remember what you're here for."

After a while, her rear had turned a pleasant pink, and my hand was beginning to sting, so I decided that the warm-up was over and reached for the paddle on the table. When she noticed my movement, Sophie's eyes grew wider, and her pleas grew even more insistent.

"You don't have to use that, Lance! Your hand stings plenty, you don't need that paddle!" She tried to wriggle off my lap, but I held her down and patted her sore cheeks with the cold wood.

"I hope you'll learn your lesson from this," I told her firmly. "I don't want to have to do this again!" And the loud slap of the hard wood against her soft flesh rang out in the room like a gunshot as I continued my assault on her posterior. She was soon sobbing loudly, every smack causing her to kick her legs furiously, and she promised me the world if I would just put the paddle down. Tears were rolling down her face, and her backside was rapidly turning red.

When I felt that her promises to change were sincere enough, I put the paddle down on the table. Gently, I helped my crying cousin up, letting her sob into my chest while I rubbed her back and told her that she had taken her punishment well.

After a few minutes, she'd calmed down, and she stood up and put her clothes back on. "I want to see some real change from you now, Sophie. I care about you, and I want you to do well." I patted the paddle against my palm. "I don't want to use this again anytime soon."

"You won't," she promised me. And after a long hug and a promise that she was forgiven, she went back to her room.

When Annie returned, I briefly wondered what Sophie would tell her about our little chat. The two girls seemed to share everything, but I guessed that there were some things she would likely keep to herself.

The Cane (F/M story)

She found it in an old closet, tucked away amongst outdated books and old forms. The school's old cane, which hadn't been used in years.

Jenny was a schoolteacher - a good one at that. In her private life, she was a spanker. Whenever David, her boyfriend for the last five years, needed a spanking, she would provide it. And now, she had found something to spice it up a little. They had used paddles, hairbrushes and once, a wooden spoon. But never a cane. She smiled as she picked up her cell phone.

“David, could you come pick me up later, when I'm off work? I want to show you something.” She couldn't help smiling as she thought about what she would do to David when he got there. She would make him pull down his pants and bend over the desk, and she would use the cane on him until his ass was bright red. She picked up the implement, giving her palm a light tap. She wondered how he would take it. She shook her head, trying to dispel the thoughts. That was for later. Now, she had a class to teach.


David made his way through the school, going past all the empty classrooms. There was something strange about a school when all the pupils had gone home. It seemed wrong to be there on your own.

He found Jenny's classroom, and went through the door. The second he entered the room, he froze in his tracks, his eyes locked on the long, thin object lying on the desk. Jenny was sitting behind the desk, her hair pulled back in a ponytail and a teasing smile playing around her lips, as she stood up and walked towards her boyfriend.

“Mister Newman, you were supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago. That will add to your punishment, I'm afraid,” she said, looking at him as strictly as she could.

David had no idea what was going on, but he liked it.

“Since you were so disruptive in class, I have decided to give you six of the best. Since you were late, you will receive two more, for a total of eight.” She picked up the cane, flexing it as she spoke.

“Drop your shorts and underwear and bend over the desk, please.”

David realized what was happening, and entered his role. “I'm sorry Miss, please don't cane me. Please!” he said, eyes fixed on the carpet, not moving an inch.

“Ten strokes it is, then.” She couldn't suppress a smile; David always looked so cute right before a punishment.

David complied, not wanting to increase his punishment further. He stood in front of the desk, pulled his shorts and briefs down to his knees, revealing how aroused he was. He leaned forward on the desk, resting his upper body.

Jenny walked up behind him, flexing the cane. She whipped the cane through the air a few times, enjoying both the sound it made and the sight of his bottom trembling in anticipation.

“You will count each stroke, loudly and clearly. If you forget to count, or get out of position, the stroke does not count. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Miss.” Jenny smiled as she drew back the cane.

WHACK! A bright red line appeared on David's backside, and he grunted in pain. That cane had quite a sting!

“One, Miss,” he said through gritted teeth.

WHACK! Jenny placed this stroke directly beneath the previous, making two parallel lines appear on his bottom. David sucked in air, and responded; “Two, Miss.”

Jenny was surprised at how hard David took his punishment; she could tell he was in real pain. The cane had to have quite a sting!

WHACK! David started dancing on the spot, trying his hardest get rid of the sting without getting out of position. “Three, Miss.”

WHACK! David cried out in pain, and Jenny wondered briefly if anyone was still at the school. If they were, they would surely hear him. She pushed the thought out of her head. If anyone was still there, it was too late to do anything now. “Four, Miss.”

WHACK! David kicked his legs while still keeping his upper body flat on the desk. No need to earn extras. “Five, Miss.”

Jenny put the cane down on the desk, walking forward to take a closer look on her boyfriend's bottom. She ran her fingers along the five deep ridges covering his bottom, and thought briefly about the force involved in deforming his bottom in this manner. The pain had to be unbearable. She didn't want to call the caning off, since they tried never to call off a scene when it had first begun, but she decided to use less force on the last five strokes. It was, after all, just play. There was no true punishment involved.

WHACK! The sixth stroke was a light one, barely leaving a mark on his bottom. Too light, she decided. It was still a caning, after all. “Six, Miss.”

WHACK! A harder stroke than the previous, but still softer than the first five. She smiled proudly; that was more like it! “Seven, Miss.”

WHACK! By now, David was crying, tears falling down on the desk in streams. She was unsure whether he had even noticed that the strokes were lighter now. “Eight, Miss.”

WHACK! David rolled around on the desk, his body lost in pain and pleasure. Somehow, he managed to stay in position, and hiccup up the required “Nine, Miss.”

WHACK! The last stroke was lower than the rest, drawing a line across his sit spots and causing him to cry out in pain again. “Ten, Miss.”

Jenny smiled at her handiwork. Ten parallel lines all over the bottom in front of her. As her boyfriend stood up, she walked forward, giving him a long kiss. The scene was over.

The events had filled her with energy, and as her hands ran over the deep ridges in his bottom, she was hornier than she had ever been in her life. Judging by the size of his erection, so was he.

This time, it was Jenny's time to bend over the desk, but entirely different reasons.

Proposition (M/F story)

As Elliot emerged from the bathroom after his shower, clad only in a pair of trousers, Veronica couldn't stop herself from licking her lips at the sight of her co-worker. Fortunately, he was drying his hair at the time, and didn't catch it. Or was that unfortunately? How would he react when he realized she fancied him?

She knew that he found her attractive. In fact, every time she wore one of her tighter skirts to work, she would notice him paying attention to her backside every time she leaned forward or bent over something. That attention felt very nice, and a few times, she's wriggled her butt a little to please him – not too obviously flirtatious, but in a way that would make him fluster, and forget what he was about to say.

Neither of them had been very forward about their mutual attraction at the office, but that wasn't an issue right now. The boss had sent them up north, to work with one of their new branches that was having start-up difficulties. They stayed in a cottage, just the two of them, and Veronica knew that their co-workers back home would start up the rumour mill. Two attractive young people living in close quarters for a few weeks? Who knows what they would get up to? And Veronica wouldn't have cared, if only any of the things they would gossip about, actually happened.

As he dried off his muscular arms, Veronica knew that he was far too well-raised to act suggestively towards a woman that he worked with. If she waited for him to make a move, they would both die of old age. So she knew it was up to her. And if only her mouth would agree with her and obey, she would. Maybe a change of clothes would make her feel more confident? That cute little green skirt could turn his head if she tried, and that tight grey shirt she'd purchased last week? She went into her room and got changed.

After finally mustering up her courage, Veronica found Elliot – now fully dressed, which she thought was a shame. They'd used one of the rooms of the spacious cottage as an office, and Elliot was at the table, flicking through a stack of papers, looking for a list of expenses.

"Do you have time to talk?" she said, trying to make her voice soft and sexy. Even in her own ears, she didn't quite manage it.

"Sure," he said, putting the stack down and turning towards her. "What about?"

"Well," she said, playing absent-mindedly with one of the buttons on her shirt. "I think you've been working too hard these last few days, and I wanted to help you relax," she finally said. It wasn't quite the 'I want you to bang my brains out, right now, please' that she WANTED to say, but it was at least a start.

"There's a lot still to do," he replied with an apologetic smile. "Maybe later."

No bite. Still, her lure had been pretty weak. She leaned forward, playing with his shirt-button now. He was wearing a pair of black trousers and a blue shirt that really fit his dark, long hair and the bright blue eyes. "Are you sure? You and me, lying on the sofa and watching some movie – doesn't that sound more appealing than reports?"

He grabbed her hand, as if he wanted to push it away, but he couldn't quite make himself do so. After a second, he let go. "Far more appealing," he agreed. "But this should really be done today."

She knew that none of the paperwork needed to be done by the morning – they had given themselves better time than that, but Elliot always liked to be ahead of deadlines. So she still had a good chance of getting him away from the desk, but she decided to stop being coy.

Gently, she pushed him back in his chair, and sat down on his lap. Her hands were on his neck, and she stared into his deep eyes. "Elliot, I'm feeling very lonely right now, and I need someone. You're not the type to leave a poor damsel in distress, are you?" She could feel something hard beneath her as she sat on his lap.

"Veronica", he said. He was trying hard to sound professional. "We're co-workers, you know that. We didn't come here to -" he stopped himself. "We came here to work."

She almost wanted to pout. That darn work ethic of his was getting in the way of their fun. She needed to entice him further, but she wasn't sure how she would do that, short of starting to strip down, and the prospect scared her.

But she started to think about some of the rumours she'd heard about Elliot at the office. Rumours about Elliot's more peculiar interests, judging from comments he'd accidentally let slip to the other guys. She wasn't absolutely certain they were true, but saw no harm in trying.

"I really should get back to work," Elliot said, but there was little conviction in his voice.

"I know, I shouldn't have been distracting you like this," she said, trying her best to look guilty. "I've been a very naughty girl." She leaned forward, whispering into his ear. "Perhaps you should take me over your knee and spank me."

From the expression on his face, and the way that his erection pushed even harder into her, it was obvious that the rumours she'd heard about him, were true. The little restraint that he had left, was now completely gone, and the smile that spread across his face was almost frightening. A few moments passed, and he seemed to make up his mind. "Yes, I think I should."

Gently, but firmly, he helped Veronica to her feet, and then guided her across his lap. Well, she thought as she laid there, her head down to the ground and her bottom lifted high over his lap, at least she had his undivided attention right now.

The first few smacks were slow and gentle, barely tickling her through the skirt. He then grabbed the hem of her skirt, slowly lifting it up to reveal her black silk panties. "What a lovely bottom this is," he complimented her as he rubbed her cheeks, and she blushed. "But I do think it would look better in pink."

"Then you'd better stop talking and start acting," she told him, wriggling her rear enticingly.

"Oh, I will," he said as he spanked her. Like before, he started off gently, but without the protection of her skirt, there was more of a sting to his slaps.

He moved from cheek to cheek, first high, near her lower back, then low, on her sit spots. The slow, gentle smacks grew firmer and faster, and with every barrage of spanks, the sting in her rear end grew Soon, she was letting out cute little "Ow!"s and "Ah!"s.

"Getting to much for you, my dear?" he said.

To her surprise, Veronica found that she was loving every second of this. "Keep going."

"You know," he said slowly. "I think these panties are in my way." And with slow, deliberate movements, he pulled them down to her knees. Cupping one cheek of her bare backside, he slowly rubbed some of the sting away.

"Your backside is starting to get pink," he said. "Let's finish the job."

The spanks now came harder and faster than before, but it was still not any kind of punishment she was receiving – between spanks, he rubbed her bottom and told her how beautiful she looked.

By the time he helped her to her feet, she was breathing heavily, and so was he. "Is it very red?" she asked, trying to look at her stinging seat.

"Barely pink," he said. "Have a look in the bathroom mirror."

Stepping out of her panties so she wouldn't trip over them, she ran into the bathroom, turned her back to the mirror, and glanced over the shoulder. With a disappointment that she couldn't explain, she noted that he was right – her posterior had turned a pleasantly pink hue, far from the dark red it felt like.

"So," he said, stepping into the bathroom after her. "Was it everything you wanted?"

"Nothing like I thought it would be," she admitted. "But far more wonderful." She glanced over at him, and the throbbing between her legs grew stronger. "Now, the strict disciplinarian should send me to bed without supper," she said. Leaning in to whisper in his ear, she continued. "And join me there."

Thief (F/F story)

If they were woken up in the middle of the night by the sound of some stranger sneaking through their house, most noblewomen would be frozen in fear, or try to call for the guards. Lady Natalie, however, was not like most noblewomen.

She retrieved the sharp dagger she kept under the pillow. Silently, she moved towards the bedroom door, opening it inch by inch until she could poke her head outside.

She spotted the thief immediately, a stranger in black clothes, with a black hood covering the head, moving around in the hallway. The short figure was carrying a small sack, either filled with stolen items, or about to be. Natalie couldn't spot any weapons, however.

The thief was moving from room to room. Based on the speed, it would be a minute or so before they arrived at Natalie's bedroom. She closed the door silently, stepping behind it to wait. Why try to sneak up on anyone, when she could just wait until the thief came to her?

She could hear the movements long before the door opened. The figure in black moved into the room, starting to head towards the dressing table – probably looking for jewels, Natalie guessed. With the thief so close, Natalie noticed that, beneath the tight black outfit, was a rather shapely woman. How fascinating, thought Natalie. The thief suddenly stopped, frozen in place. She was staring at the half-burned candle on the nightstand, and the bed that had been obviously slept in.

"Would you care to explain what you are doing in my house?"

The thief spun around, looking very distressed at the sight of Natalie and her dagger. The woman dove to the side, trying to run past Natalie, but the noblewoman lifted her hand and delivered a quick punch to the thief's stomach as she went past. She fell to the floor, gasping for breath, and Natalie took the opportunity to relieve her of her mask. The thief was younger than she had expected – barely in her twenties, she guessed – and a lot cuter, as well.

Natalie pushed the thief down on her face, kneeling over her with the dagger to ensure that she didn't try to escape again. "What is your name, thief?" When she didn't get a response, she placed a sharp slap on the offender's backside. "I asked you a question, thief. Would you rather that I called for my guards? They are very good at getting answers out of people."

"Lucy!" the thief gasped. "Lucy Edwards." She sounded like she was about to cry.

"Good," Natalie said, a big grin spreading across her face. "We are getting somewhere. How did you get inside the house?"

"The window in the library wasn't locked," the thief answered.

Natalie furrowed her brows. An open window? One of the maids trying to sneak her boyfriend in again, she guessed. She would have to deal with that in the morning.

With tears beginning to appear in her eyes, the thief looked pleadingly up at Natalie. "Please, madam, I'm sorry, I really am. Don't call for the guards, please."

"Stop moaning," the lady replied, delivering another sharp smack to the seat of her tight trousers. "If you wanted to avoid the punishment, you should not have done the crime". As the thief was still pleading, Natalie delivered another slap to shut her up. The girl winced, and an evil thought entered Natalie's head. She walked over to a nearby chest, pulling out a long rope, which she used to tie Lucy's hands together.

"On your feet."

Slowly, the thief did as she said, quivering slightly at the grin that was spreading across Natalie's face. The other end of the rope was tied to one of the bed posts, with quite firm knots. "I'll be back," Natalie said as she left the room.

Lucy tried to escape, but the rope was tied too tightly. There was no chance of getting loose, and she could do nothing but stand there and wait for Natalie to get back. This didn't take long, but to Lucy's surprise, Natalie wasn't accompanied by her guards.

"The good news is, I've decided I'm not going to inform the police," she said, trying her best to sound comforting as she removed the rope from the bed posts. She left Lucy's hands still tied, though. "The bad news is, I've informed my guards that I'll punish you myself, and I don't think you're going to enjoy what's going to happen." And as she sat down on the bed, she started pulling the thief's trousers down.

"What are you doing!?" Lucy gasped as her panties joined her trousers around her ankles.

Rather than explain, Natalie grabbed her arm, pulling her forward across her lap. The first sharp smack rang out in the air, and Lucy tried to wriggle away. "Ow! Stop this!"

Natalie ignored her protests, lifting her hand and bringing it down on the unprotected cheeks with quick, hard strokes.

"You can't do this," the thief gasped. The sting was building quickly, and she wriggled around, trying to get off her lap and away from the sting of her hand.

"You're a thief that broke into my home, entering the very bedroom of a woman of noble blood," Natalie replied calmly. "There is very little I cannot do to you."

And she kept spanking, with no regularity that would prepare the poor thief for where the smack would land – she just aimed for where she thought she could get the biggest reaction, and she smiled at the cute yelps of pain that Lucy was delivering.

"Are you learning your lesson, you naughty little girl?" Natalie scolded her, but with a big smile on her face.

The round orbs in front of her had started to turn pink, and Natalie took the time to study her handiwork as she rubbed the cheeks, enjoying the little white finger-marks that appeared on the pink flesh.

Suddenly, her hands moved a bit further down, and she found something that made her widen her eyes. There was a slight dampness spreading across her leg, and it didn't come from herself.

"What's this?" she said teasingly. "It looks like I was wrong. You ARE enjoying this!"

"No!" the thief gasped, throwing her head up. "I'm not!"

"Oh?" Natalie responded, rubbing her cheeks and giving her another little smack. "Do you want me to stop, then? Do you want me to pull your trousers back up?"

Lucy just lowered her head, a blush spreading across her cheeks. "... No..." she said at last.

Natalie chuckled. "Not good enough, I'm afraid. Lift your head, and say: Please give me a good spanking, Lady Natalie."

Lucy blushed even more, looking like she was about to burst into flames, but she did as instructed. She raised her head, and there was a strong tremble in her voice as she repeated: "Please give me a good spanking, Lady Natalie."

And with a loud smack to Lucy's tender sit spots, Natalie continued the spanking.

Natalie had no idea how long she kept her over her knee, delivering hard slaps, soft smacks, and rubbing both the front and back of her little thief, but by the time she stopped, the once-pale cheeks in front of her were bright red, and quite hot to the touch, and they were both gasping loudly for breath.

After a few minutes, Natalie removed the ropes from Lucy's hands, helping the thief to her feet and giving her a long kiss. "How much did you enjoy that, little thief?" Lucy opened her mouth, unsure of what to say, but Natalie placed her finger on the girl's lips, cutting her off. "Don't tell me," she said as she removed her own panties, which were dripping wet by this point. She lifted her nightgown towards Lucy. "Show me. On your knees."

With a smile on her face, Lucy did as she was told.

Some hours later, Natalie woke next to Lucy, where they had fallen asleep after a very tiring night. Lucy was awake, lying on her side and smiling at her.

"Oh, you are GOOD at this," Natalie said as she patted her lover's backside, grinning at the little wince. "I shall give you a reward, little thief. Anything you can carry out of this room, is yours to keep."

She laid back to rest, her strength almost gone, and she almost didn't notice it when Lucy picked her up, and carried her towards the bedroom door.

Notice her (M/f story)

Mary took one last glance in the mirror, straightening her shirt, and turning around to look at her skirt from every angle. Short enough to be enticing, but long enough to protect her modesty.

In a few minutes, Robert would be arriving, planning on spending another afternoon playing video games with her brother Charlie. Robert was one of the cutest guys she knew, but her advances so far had been too subtle, she'd realized. One way or another, she'd make him notice her today.

They were already sitting on the couch, each holding a control and staring at the screen when she entered the room. “Oh, hi, Robert,” she said as she saw him. “I didn't know you were coming over today.”

“Hi,” he said, not even looking up from the screen. He was certainly as attentive as ever.

She sat down next to him. “So what are you two playing?” she said, doing her best to feign interest.

“Left 4 Dead,” Robert replied.

“Oh,” Mary replied. She looked at the screen, where the two seemed to be shooting their way through an army of zombies. She gazed at Robert, asking him some more questions and trying to an attentive listener, but he barely responded.

“We're trying to find a safe haven from the zombies,” Charlie said. He then glanced over at his sister. “But no matter how much we try to achieve our goal, our efforts are wasted.” He grinned. Was it her imagination, or was he making fun of her? Did he notice what Robert didn't?

“Can I have a go later?” she said. “If you'll show me what to do. I haven't played a game like this before.”

“Sure,” Robert said, just as uninterested as before. Charlie was grinning even wider now, and she knew it wasn't just her imagination.

She was just wondering whether she should try to undo a few buttons of her shirt, and entice him in a different manner, when her father entered the room.

“Mary, I want to talk to you.”

She rolled her eyes a bit at having been interrupted, and looked at him. “Yes?”

“Don't take that tone with me,” he said, holding up a letter. “Care to explain this?”

“What is it?” she said, still a bit annoyed.

“A letter from your school,” he said. “About smoking in the bathroom.”

Oh. She felt a creeping sensation at the back of her neck. This wasn't going to end well.

“On Thursday, when you said you were staying behind to work on a project? You were actually in detention, weren't you?”

“Uhm. About that, I-” she wasn't entirely sure how she was going to explain this away, but she would at least try.

But her father sat down on one of the dining room chairs, patting his lap. “Come here,” he said strictly.

“Can't we talk about this? I-”

“Mary, do you want me to take off my belt?”

On shaking knees, she rose to her feet, inching over to her father. She'd had the belt once before, and had no wish to repeat the experience. She heard the noises of gunfire die down behind her, and knew the two boys were no longer paying attention to their game.

She had no doubt that trying to reason with her father, to ask him to wait until Robert had left, was pointless – she knew from bitter experience that he didn't care who witnessed their punishments. But she had a small hope that he'd spank her over her skirt, that he'd leave her modesty intact – a hope that was crushed when he pulled her over his knee, raised her skirt, and started to lower her panties.

“Daddy,” she whined. “Can't you leave my panties up? They can see.”

“All spankings are delivered on the bare bottom,” he said calmly. “You should know this by now, Mary.”

And without any waiting or lecturing, he started to spank her. Mary grimaced as the first smacks landed on her soft cheeks, making her bite her lips in pain. There was never much of a warm-up when her father disciplined her. Once the warmth had begun to spread through her backside, and she had started to kick her legs, he started the lecture. He said he liked to ensure she was paying attention.

“The smoking is bad enough, Mary. It's bad for you, not to mention illegal. But trying to keep it hidden from us? Lying straight to my face when I asked why you were late? I am very, very disappointed in you, young lady.”

Tears were already appearing at the corners of her eyes, but Mary managed to glance over at the couch. Charlie was facing the screen, staring at the frozen scene of zombie carnage. He hadn't gotten any pleasure whatsoever from watching her spankings in years. Instead, he felt sorry for her, and was always nicer to her while she was sitting gingerly. Robert, on the other hand, was staring open-mouthed at the scene. She blushed.

A flurry of smacks caused her to kick her legs violently, and she was vaguely aware that she howled in pain.

Finally, once it felt like every inch of skin had been pounded into submission, or perhaps into oblivion, her father stopped the spanking, and once she'd calmed down a bit, she was allowed to stand. When she tried to rub her sore posterior, however, he slapped her hands away. “You know the rules,” he said, nodding to the corner near the fireplace. She stared at him in horror. Surely he didn't mean for her to stand there, with her nose to the wall and her beaten bottom showing, while Robert and Charlie were sitting in the same room?

“Don't make me tell you again."

Corner time was always half an hour, but this was one of the longest half-hours of Mary's life. The sounds of the zombie apocalypse were gone, as the boys had turned off the console, and were instead in the middle of a board game. Charlie later informed her that Robert had been unable to continue the video game, as his mind seemed to be thinking of something else entirely. Rolling dice seemed a lot simpler in his state.

While Mary could feel her face burning with shame – and the other end also burning– a slight smile still creeped unto her lips. One thing was definitely certain: there was no way Robert didn't notice her today. Perhaps she'd talk to him later and ask him if he was willing to put some lotion on her scorched skin.