Skinny-dipping (M/F story)

Shannon was walking along the edges of her parents' farm, when she spotted Mark fixing some fences nearby. She smiled to herself. She loved teasing Mark.

Mark was their closest neighbour, and though he was just a few years older than her, he owned quite a large piece of land (some of it was inheritance, the rest he had bought). He was quiet, and didn't spend a lot of time in town.

"How's it going, Mark?" she said, putting on her best innocent smile.

"Fine," he replied, displaying his usual lack of verbosity.

"I don't know why you even bother putting up fences, to be honest," she told him. "I don't imagine you've got much worth nicking."

"Is that you keep trespassing to steal my apples?" he asked.

She smiled. "As if I'd set foot on that mound of dirt you call your property." In truth, he had some of the best land in the district, with the best apples to boot, but she wasn't about to admit that.

"You know, you might look like a woman, but you're acting like a little brat in need of a good spanking," he told her and walked off.

She glared at him. A brat? Her? The nerve!

A few hours later, she was taking a stroll through the woods on the western edges of his property. She hadn't been here much, but she had to admit it was quite beautiful. She came across a pond, and decided to go for a quick swim in the heat.

Shannon stripped off and lowered herself into the water, grimacing slightly at the cold; even though the air was quite warm, the water was chilly.

She had no idea how long she swam there, enjoying the cool water on the warm day, but suddenly, she noticed that someone was looking at her from the edge of the pond. Mark was sitting on a log, grinning.

"Mark!" she yelled out, covering herself with her hands. "Why are you peeping at me, you creep!?"

"Why are you skinny-dipping on my property, girl? You still haven't learned manners, obviously."

She decided to get out of there immediately, saving as much dignity as she could, and started looking around for her clothes. She'd left them lying next to an old log.

The one Mark was sitting on.

She bit her lip. That was dignity out of the question. Now for the "leaving" part.

"Could you hand me my clothes, please?" she asked him.

"Wow, a 'please'? That's rare, coming from you." He smiled, leaning back. "I think I like this new you."

"Stop it, just hand me my clothes!" she yelled, glaring at him.

"… And there's the old one back. Didn't last long, did it? But I'm afraid the answer is 'no', at least for the moment."

"What do you mean?" she didn't like the direction this was taking.

"It's simple. I'm going to punish you for trespassing on my property, obviously. And since you've been such a brat, I think a spanking is in order, don't you?"

"Forget it, creep!"

He smiled. "Fair enough." He picked up the pile of clothes and started to leave. "Have fun walking back home."

"Wait!" She cried out. "You can't leave me like this!"

"It's your choice, Shannon," he told her, sitting back down on the log. "Either you come here and take your spanking, or I walk off with your clothes, and you can find your way home. Take your pick."

She bit her lip, pondering her options. She didn't want a spanking from ANYONE, least of all from a neighbour not much older than her, but at least she knew he would keep quiet about it. If she made her way home nude, on the other hand, anyone that saw it would be far more likely to talk.

"I'll take the spanking," she told him at last.

"Then come here and quit wasting time," he told her, patting his lap.

She stepped out of the pond, trying to cover up as much as possible. She could feel his gaze on her, and it made her squirm. He patted his lap again, and she slowly lowered herself over his knee. The vulnerability of her position caused her to shiver – here she was, naked in the forest, over the knee of her steel-willed neighbour. He rubbed her bottom, causing her to squirm in anticipation.

He slapped her bottom hard, and she cried out, shocked by the sting. He wasted no time with a warm-up, starting the spanking off right away.

"You've been quite rude to me for some time, Shannon. I hope by the time this is over, you'll have learnt some manners."

"Fuck you, Mark!" she yelled, kicking her legs.

"It will take a while, obviously, but I'm still hopeful."

His firm palm landed repeatedly on her poor posterior. She could feel tears at the edge of her eyes, but did her best to push them back. She wasn't going to break down in front of him! However, she couldn't stop herself from squirming around under his punishing hand.

He had stopped lecturing, which was good, as she didn't think she was able to focus on anything but the burning sting that grew with every second until it felt like she had sat down on a campfire. She tried to reach back to protect her bottom, but he caught her wrist and held her hand at the small of her back, holding her in place while preventing her from interfering with her punishment.

As the pain continued, she was no longer able to hold back the tears, and was soon sobbing loudly. She couldn't believe what was happening to her! The mature young woman, reduced to a sobbing child!

"Will you be good now, girl?"

She wanted to spit in his face, to tell him that she would never give in, but the blistering bun-warming had proven too much. "Ouch! I'll be good, please stop spanking me! I'll do whatever you say!"

He chuckled. "It sounds like your attitude has really improved, girl. Maybe you'd benefit from a few more sessions like this." His hand never paused in its attack on her bottom, but she was no longer kicking her legs and squirming – all fight had gone out of her, and she lay limply over his lap.

Some time later, she discovered that he had stopped spanking, and she was seated on his lap as he whispered something comforting to calm her down. She was soon back on her feet, putting her clothes back on.

"Quick warning, girl," he told her. "If I find you on my lands again, or if you're rude to me, I'll cut a switch and REALLY warm your bottom."

She rubbed her stinging rear, and almost glared at him, but decided not to take the chance. No use angering him right now. She made a mental note NOT to trespass on his lands again.

But then again, he couldn't be everywhere at once, could he? The chances of being caught were slim...

Starstruck (F/F story)

Kath had always had a talent for singing, but when she in her twenties decided to make a career out of it, it was because of a hope, a bit of a dream. That one day, she would get to share a stage with Janet O' Hare, one of the greatest voices of this generation. Janet had broken through as a teenager, only rising in popularity as the years passed, and was rumoured to be as great a person as she was a singer.

And now, three years after she first stepped into that recording studio, she'd get her wish. Her agent had spoken to the star, and she'd agreed they could do a show together. And now, as they were sitting in Janet's dressing room (the star had made it absolutely clear that she preferred to be called by her first name), Kath could feel her heart trying to escape from her chest.

Kath was chatting nervously, eager to fill the silence, but she could feel herself blushing just by being in her presence. Even though Janet was just a few years older, Kath had to admit she seemed much more mature.

Janet smiled at her. "Take a deep breath and try to relax. We can chat after the show, but right now, we should keep our mind at what we're about to do on stage." She leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes. Kath had to admire her calm; she was still a bit freaked out by the fact that she had an audience, that she had FANS.

She tried to copy her idol's stance, leaning back in the chair to relax, but found herself stealing glances at her. This was so cool!

Half an hour later, Kath found herself on stage, looking at a crowd larger than she'd ever seen before. She was not deluded enough to think they were there to see HER, but she still found it intimidating that all these people would watch her perform. But still, sharing a stage with Janet O' Hare? A dream had come true.

They were almost done with the first number when Kath spotted a snake in her paradise. Close to the front of the audience, staring at her with complete contempt in their eyes, was Larissa and her gaggle of friends. They'd been HER friends, if you can call it that, a few years back. They'd stabbed her in the back at the first opportunity, trying to advance their OWN careers at her expense. Kath hated every single one of them.

As the show went on, Kath found herself more and more annoyed with the glaring redhead in the crowd, still staring daggers at her. She decided to show her just how she felt. Making sure the cameras weren't on her, Kath extended her middle finger in her enemy's direction. The sour look that crossed Larissa's face showed that she knew just who the message was for.

There was a bit of a stir in the audience, but the song continued, never stumbling for a second as they continued the show.

And then, they left the stage with the most thunderous applause Kath had ever heard. As they stepped out of the audience's view, she turned to chat with her idol, shocked at the glare she received.

"Go wait for me in my dressing room," Janet said coldly. "We'll chat there."

Kath did as instructed. She felt nervous, sitting there waiting for Janet to return, trying to figure out what to say.

A few minutes later, Janet returned to the dressing room. "Why did you do that? The entire audience could see your little gesture! What do you have to say for yourself?"

Kath didn't know what to say. Here she was, being lectured by one of the greatest singers of this generation, like a child with her hand in the cookie jar.

Janet shook her head. "Why did you do that?" she repeated.

Kath told her about Larissa, about how seeing her in the crowd had brought back painful memories, about the backstabbing, and about how Kath had been filled with an overwhelming urge to hurt her.

Janet shook her head. "What, you want to get back at her? You want to hurt the girl that betrayed you? You want revenge?" She lifted her hand, waving it around the dressing room. "THIS can be your revenge. Thousands of people came to the concert today. You want to compare yourself to this petty rival of yours? Only one of you sang before thousands of people today." She sighed. "And only one of you made a complete fool off herself before all those people."

"I'm sorry," Kath said, almost on the verge of tears.

Janet shook her head. "Not sorry enough. But I'll take care of that."

She grabbed Kath's hand, pulling her to her feet, and as Janet sat down, Kath found herself sprawled over the woman's lap. What was happening?

As the first smack landed on the seat of her dress, she got her answer. She yelped in pain as Janet's surprisingly firm hand found the most sensitive parts of her rear, raining stinging smacks down upon her.

"Ow! You can't do this! Let me up!" she complained.

"You acted like a child in front of thousands of people today," Janet told her calmly. "I think it's only fair that you're treated like one."

And with a few quick movements, she raised the hem of Kath's dress, pulling her panties down her knees. The hard palm now began to focus on her bare bottom. Kath tried to stand up, but found the star was much stronger than her.

"Perhaps I should have done this in front of the crowd," Janet mused. "After all, they saw the crime. They should see the punishment as well."

The thought of the audience seeing her spanking was enough to make Kath feel light-headed. It probably didn't help that her blood was being directed to her other end, either.

Kath was sobbing loudly by the time Janet finished the spanking. She immediately pushed the younger singer into a corner, telling her to stand there with her bottom on display and her hands on her head. "If you move an inch, I'm putting you back across my knee. I'm going to talk to the press, doing a bit of damage-control after your outburst."

A few hours later, they were having a cup of tea, chatting about their experiences. They decided to stay in the dressing room, rather than go to a club or café, since the pillow Kath was sitting on would probably lead to uncomfortable questions.

Snapping (M/F story)

"Feeling OK?" Roger asked, looking at his girlfriend with concern in his eyes.

"Do I LOOK OK to you?" Julie said, glaring at him. "What kind of stupid question is that?" she muttered to herself.

Roger frowned. He knew that Julie sometimes got stressed, and would mope around all day, but he wished she wouldn't snap at him like that. "I'm here if you need me."

"Who would? Just fuck off, Roger. Just fuck off."

For about an hour, Roger had wondered whether he should let her be, or whether her attitude deserved an adjustment. But after that comment, his mind was made up. He stepped into the bedroom, picking up a large wooden brush they kept next to the bed.

Julie rolled her eyes as he spoke her name, but when she spotted the brush in his hand, her expression changed. She stared wide-eyed at it as if she expected it to bounce out of his hand and bite her. She jumped to her feet, protectively covering her bottom with both hands. "Not the brush, Roger! Please, not the brush!"

Roger placed one of the dining chairs in the middle of the room, sat down and patted his knee. "Come here, Julie."

"Please, I'll be good, just..." She tried her best puppy-dog eyes, sniffing as she looked teary-eyed at him.

"See how your attitude improves simply if I pick this up? I wonder how polite you'll be when I've actually USED it." He patted his knee again. "Stop stalling, Julie. If you haven't dropped those shorts and gotten that little butt of yours over my knee by the time I count to five, you're getting the belt as well."

At the count of three, she'd lost the shorts and rushed over, hurrying over his knee. He had to smile; she'd never been this eager to get over his knee before. She was wearing a pair of white cotton panties, which he pulled down to her knees.

He picked up the brush, giving her a dozen firm, but not too hard, smacks. He'd found that she was a much better listener once he'd given her a few spanks.

"I understand that you're stressed," he said, spanking while he lectured. "You're stressed, and there is nothing you can do about that." He added a few strong smacks to her sit spots. "But you don't have to take it out on me, or anyone else for that matter."

Julie felt the tears rolling down her cheeks, mostly from the sting in her bottom, but partly from his words. She knew she had a tendency to snap at people, and she was trying to improve, but it was so hard! She yelped as Roger started placing all the spanks in one spot, a sign that he'd asked a question she hadn't caught.

"Ow! What did you say?"

"I said, 'Are you going to be good from now on?'"

Ah. She knew the answer to that. "Yes! I'll be good, I promise!"

"Glad to hear it," he said, as her pink bottom turned red under the brush.

He helped her to her feet. "Now, fifteen minutes in the corner. You know the drill."

She shuffled over to the corner, keeping her panties at her knees and her hands on her head.

"After this, I want you to go straight to bed, and I want to see a better attitude from you tomorrow," he said.

"Yes, sir," she responded.

Standing in the corner, she realized that after the spanking, she felt a lot less stressed, less angry. But she'd never in a million years admit it, as that might give Roger some ideas about how to improve her mood in the future!

Taking care of business (M/F story)

It had been a long day at the office, and to get everything done, Amber had to work more than two hours overtime. But as she came home, she reflected that it had all been worth it; the contract was theirs, bringing in a lucrative new trading partner and raising the name of the company even higher. She just wanted to go inside, cuddle up to her husband and watch TV.

The first thing she saw when she got inside was the paddle lying on the table. Beside it, David was sitting in a wooden kitchen chair, reading a book with a glass of wine in his right hand.

She walked over to him, rubbing the seat of her skirt. She had felt that paddle more than once, and was in no hurry to feel it again. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach.

"What did I do?" she asked, her voice begging him to forgive her for whatever it was.

He looked up, his eyes revealing no emotions. "You tell me."

She hated this. Why could he never tell her why she was to be spanked? Why did she always have to guess? She tried to think, going through the day, and thinking about what she had done.

Suddenly she realized it wasn't what she had done. It was what she HADN'T done.

"But honey, it was busy at the office, we had a big contract, and I just forgot- "

"Amber, what are you supposed to do when working late?"

She lowered her eyes, unable to meet his gaze. "I'm supposed to call."

"Look at me. Good. Now, what happens if you don't call?"

She started blushing. "You give me a good spanking."

David nodded, pleased by her reply. "Prepare for your punishment."

Amber removed her skirt, folded it neatly and placed it on the table. Her knickers soon followed. David insisted that she was naked from the waist down during her punishment.

David placed his book and glass on the table, moving the chair into the centre of the room. When Amber had finished undressing, he patted his lap. With slow, reluctant steps, she moved to his right side and bent over his knee.

The first smacks of his hand were slow and deliberate, as David preferred a slow warm-up to prepare her bottom for what was to come. They barely stung, bringing with them a slight heat that immediately disappeared. But soon, the smacks came more rapidly, and the heat started building up. After only a few minutes, the sting had gotten so painful that Amber felt tears at the edge of her eyes. She lay over his lap, staying as still as possible as the onslaught on her poor bottom continued.

After about ten minutes, David stopped spanking, rubbing her sore cheeks briefly before telling her to stand up. Without being asked to, she put her hands on her head and walked over to her corner. David always made her do fifteen minutes of corner time before he brought out the paddle. For the worst offences, this was increased to thirty minutes, and once, he had left her in the corner for more than an hour. She had asked if she could use his car, as hers was at the mechanic, but he had refused. While he was at work, she had taken it anyway, and managed to crash it. After checking that she was all right, he spanked her, put her in the corner, and gave her two hundred licks with the paddle. When it was all over, her bottom was so sore that she had to sleep on her stomach for two weeks.

Amber stood with her hands on her head, thinking about what David was about to do to her poor, already-sore bottom. He had developed quite a skill with the paddle, so much so that she had great faith in his Olympic capabilities if such a sport were to arise.

She started thinking about what her employees would say if they were able to see their strong, proud manager now, her bare, pink bottom on display before her husband picked up the dreaded wooden implement and paddled her bottom. They probably wouldn't believe their eyes. At times, she found it difficult to believe herself.

After fifteen minutes, David called her out of the corner. In his right hand, he was holding the paddle she had found at the garage sale so many years ago. If she had known then what she knew now, she would never have called him over to see the blasted thing.

Amber was ordered to place herself over the side of the couch, with her bottom as high up as possible. She wiggled around until she was comfortable, and told her husband that she was ready. The hard wood of the paddle felt cool against her sore bottom.

"I will give you twenty licks with the paddle." Twenty. A fairly standard punishment. "If you get out of position, the stroke does not count. Are you ready?"

"Yes, sir," Amber replied before burying her face in the cushions in front of her.

The first stroke was hard, causing her to wriggle her backside. Then came two lighter strokes, increasing the burning sting. David started rubbing the paddle against her red cheeks, and Amber realized he would take his time.

Three slow, hard spanks followed, and she cried out. David had placed all three in the same place, the lower part of her bottom, and the pain was intense.

The next four were lighter, on the higher parts of her bottom. David walked forward, rubbing her bottom. "Halfway there, honey," he said, reassuringly. He kissed her forehead before picking up the paddle again.

Three strokes placed evenly over her bottom followed, and Amber cried out in pain at every one. The next four were to her sit-spots, and they were quick ones. Amber realized that David wanted to get the punishment over with as soon as possible. Well, she thought, that makes two of us.

The last three strokes followed, and David placed the paddle on the table before gathering his wife up for a hug. She sobbed loudly as she leaned her forehead against his chest. She cried and promised him that she would always remember to call from now.


About half an hour later, Amber had changed into her pyjamas, and she was lying on the couch, cuddling up against her husband as they watched an old Western. Apart from her throbbing bottom, she couldn't be happier.

Outside (M/F story)

"You know," Janet said to her boyfriend, "I'm glad you suggested we go hiking today."

"Because you think I could use the exercise?" David replied.

Janet nodded. "That too. But I seem you to remember you had something else planned for today, that we won't have time for."

David reached his hand into his pocket, pulling out a notebook. "'Give Janet a good whipping'," he read. He put the notebook back in his pocket. "I hadn't forgotten. Have I ever forgotten our little spanking session?"

"Well, you've overbooked today," she said with a grin. "I plan on tiring you out so much on this little walk, that by the time we get out of the forest, you'll be too tired to even lift that blasted paddle of yours."

"I wasn't planning on punishing you when we got home," he replied.

"Admitting defeat? That's rare for you," she said. Suddenly, she turned pale, and the grin vanished from her face. "Oh no! No! You can't be thinking of..."

In the library (F/M story)

"What's that?" Keith said, nodding towards a strange object hanging on the wall of the library. It was leather, about a foot or so long, and quite thick, and seemed really out of place on a library wall.

"That?" said Millie. She was the librarian that Keith had been trying to chat up for the last week or so, dropping by every day. She wasn't completely unresponsive, but he hadn't gotten very far. She was a short woman, but with long, dark hair and a cleavage he could lose himself in. "That's a strap. Haven't you seen one before?"

"A strap? In what sense?" he asked.

She giggled. "In the sense that it's an object that you whip naughty girls' and boys' bottoms with to remove the naughtiness. Does that explain it?"

"It does, yes," he replied. "Kind of a weird decoration for a library, don't you think?"

"It's not decoration, Keith," she answered. "We take it down from time to time, when we have to." She giggled again. "If people continue to make noise even when we warn them to be quiet." She wagged her finger at him. "So don't be too noisy, ok? You won't like the consequences."

Keith blushed.

About ten minutes later, Millie was standing at her desk, watching the library, when she spotted Keith carrying a stack of books towards a table. The stack seemed unstable, wavering back and forth, and she was just about to tell him to be careful when it fell, as books came crashing down on the floor.

She rushed forward, helping him to gather up the books. "Sorry," he said, blushing again. He looked quite cute when he did so, she noted.

"Just be more careful in the future, ok? We don't want the books damaged."

She returned to her desk as he sat down with the books, making notes on a sheet of paper as he went through them.

Twenty minutes after that, he'd carried the books back where he found them, and he was carrying another stack. Millie noted with alarm that one was just as unstable as the last, and, sure enough, it toppled. Again, she rushed forward to help him out.

"Be careful!" she snapped. "If you do this again, you won't like the consequences." These books were valuable, and crashing to the floor wasn't very good for them. She decided to return to her desk, but hadn't taken more than a few steps before the sound of books hitting the floor rang out again. She turned to see Keith gathering up the books. Something clicked in her mind as she recalled their previous conversation. "If you wanted the strap," she said as she helped him gather up the books, "You should have just told me, rather than ruining our property."

He blushed, embarrassed at having been found out. "Would you have done it, though?"

She looked at him. He was tall, quite handsome, and was wearing jeans that showed off a very cute backside. "Oh, with pleasure." She placed the books on the table. "I think you had better follow me into the back room," she said, and he did so. On the way, she stopped to pick up the strap.

"I'll be in the back room," she told Sally, one of the other librarians. "Back in a few."

Sally looked at Keith, who was standing nearby, biting his lip in nervousness.

"Have fun," she said. "He's cute." She grinned. "Ten pounds say he screams."

"You're on," Millie replied.

Millie led Keith to a concrete-covered room at the back of the library, opening a door that seemed to lead to an old bomb shelter.

"Sound-proof," she said at his quizzical look. "We don't want you to disturb someone more than you already have, do we?" She tapped on the walls. "No one will hear anything through these walls."

She didn't feel it was necessary to mention that they had a microphone in the room, to tape the sounds of punishments, to play back on dull days.

She led him over to a desk, with manacles attached for hands and feet. "To stop people getting up while they're punished," she explained. "Saves time." She slapped her hands together. "Usually, we just have people drop their trousers and boxers, but since this is somewhat unusual, I think we'll go one better." She smiled at him. "Everything off."

He blinked. "Everything?"

"Every last stitch."

He started to undress, folding his clothes and placing them on a nearby chair. Shirt, Trousers, socks... he hesitated slightly before lowering his boxers, embarrassed at being naked in front of an attractive young woman.

"Having fun?" She said, nodding towards his erection. He blushed. "Now, bend over the desk."

"Is this really necessary?" he asked as she locked him in, making sure he was unable to get loose.

"Necessary?" She responded. "Nope. But it sure is fun."

She picked up the strap, tapping it against his bottom. "This is going to hurt," she said, lifting the strap and whipping it down on his bottom. And it did.

Keith grimaced in pain as the leather bit into his flesh. What had he gotten himself into? Another stroke landed, and he arched his back, biting his lap. Again, the strap whistled through the air, an explosion of pain erupting across his poor cheeks.

Millie grinned as the lifted the strap again and again, making sure she covered the entirety of Keith's cute butt. She always enjoyed these little sessions, but rarely as much as this. "It's been a few minutes, and he hasn't cried out yet," she told herself. "Sally owes me ten pounds."

Keith was crying, wishing for all the world that he could reach back and rub his stinging cheeks, but that was of course impossible. When Millie finally put the strap down, he breathed a sigh of relief.

She took a step forward, running her fingers over his stinging posterior, rubbing some of the pain again. "Was it what you expected?" she asked.

"Much more painful," he moaned.

"Then I have bad news for you," she told him. "See, if you had ASKED me for this punishment, I would have ended it here." She pinched his bottom to make sure he was paying attention. "But since you tried to manipulate me – poorly, I might add, but still – and damaged our property while doing so, we have a long, long way to go yet." She picked up the strap again, patting it against her palm. "And I don't think you're going to enjoy it very much." She would, though.

Keith pleaded for mercy, but as the strap landed on his bottom again, all thoughts but the burning pain were banished from his mind. He cried in pain as the leather dug into his skin, blistering and bruising his poor skin.

He was blubbering incoherently by the time Millie put the strap down again. She released him from his manacles, and helped him to his feet.

"It feels painful, I know," she said. "But if you stay here, facing this corner, I'll be back soon with some ointment for your poor backside." She wagged her finger. "You may rub, but if you look any place BUT this corner, you're going back over the desk. Don't test me."

She exited the room, going to her desk to pick up the jar of cream. Sally was sitting there, eager for details. "You owe me ten pounds," Millie said as she sat down to describe the strapping to her. Keith could wait a few minutes.

Theft at the office (M/F story)

"This is completely unacceptable." I said it as calmly as I could, but my anger was still apparent to the three women standing on the other side of my desk. These girls were my employees, and my only employees. All of them had worked here at least a year, and I had trusted them completely. Now, one of them had broken this trust.

One of the girls in the room had been stealing from my office.

None of the girls seemed nervous. I looked each of them in the eye, to see guiltiness, nervousness or anything else that could reveal a guilty conscience. All of them met my gaze, and I could see nothing in their eyes that indicated guilt.

I told the girls that any information leading to the capture of the thief would be rewarded. All of them told me quite loudly that they knew nothing. Anyway, weren't they trusted employees? What right had I to treat them like criminals?

I excused them all and told them that I eagerly awaited any tips. They probably thought I would settle for that, limit myself to wait for anyone to come forward. That was what I wanted them to believe.

The next day, I opened the safe again. I smiled. The thief had fallen into my trap. I walked over to my desk, situated right in front of the safe, and opened a drawer. The camera wasn't visible from outside, but thanks to the small hole I had made, the safe and the area around it was visible from the drawer.

I sat down and watched the tape. Was I seeing things? I re-winded it, and watched it again. There was no mistaking it.

This would require a bit more preparation than I had originally thought.

The day after that, the preparations were done, so I called all the girls into my office again. In the corner of the room, I had placed a small television, hooked up to my camera. When they arrived, I pressed the "Play" button.

The safe came into view, and I glanced over at them. No reaction from anyone. "I recorded this the night before yesterday." Still no reaction.

Suddenly, on the screen, a tall blonde woman walked into view. Jessica. The two other girls gasped, but Jessica was as stone-faced as ever. On the screen, Jessica walked over to the safe, opened it, and took some of the money.

"I had bills to pay," she told me. "I -"

I waved at her to keep silent. "Watch the screen," I told her. "We're not done."

The screen went blank, and then the footage of the safe appeared again. When I had watched the footage the day before, I had noticed that Jessica withdrew far less money than was missing. I decided to keep watching the film, but most of it was just footage of the safe, which I had edited out.

Out on the screen stepped another girl, this one a short brunette. Susan stepped over to the safe and took some bills, and stepped back out. Joan, the third girl in the group, looked absolutely shocked, and Jessica looked over at Susan in wonder. I directed their attention back to the screen, where Joan suddenly stepped into view.

I turned off the television. We had seen all that needed to be seen. The girls looked at each other in shock, seemingly unable to comprehend that they weren't the only thief in the company. I didn't blame them for that, I had been just as shocked the day before. What I blamed them for was the "thief" bit.

I leaned forward, placing my hands on the desk. "I had accepted that we had a thief in our midst, I could deal with that. But ALL of you!?" The last part was shouted rather than spoken. I leaned back in the chair again.

"I guess we're left with two options." The girls looked at me eagerly, desperately wanting a way out of this situation. "One, I fire all of you. I planned to fire the thief when I caught her, and make do with the two honest girls. You don't want to be fired, since you'll be out of a job, and I know all of you are having trouble financially." That was, after all, why they had stolen from me. "I don't want to fire all of you, since I can't run this company alone, and it'll go bankrupt."

They nodded; I had summarized the situation perfectly.

"Option two," I continued. "You all keep working here. Great from your point of view, but I'm having trouble with that. Namely, that three women I can no longer trust walk away from this ordeal unpunished. Therefore, I have one condition." I reached into the bag I had brought, pulled out the wooden paddle I had purchased, and threw it unto the desk.

For about fifteen seconds, you could have heard a pin drop.

Jessica was the first to speak. "You can't mean..." her voice trailed off.

"Mean what?" I asked her calmly.

"To- to paddle us like children!"

"That's precisely what I intend. You've acted like children, and now, you will either face your punishment or leave. I don't want to lose my company, but it's better than letting you go unpunished for abusing my trust."

I leaned back in my chair. "It's your choice. Either you bend over the desk and take your licks, or you go out that door and don't come back."

For a long time, no one moved. Suddenly, Joan sighed, took two steps forward, placed her hands on the desk and leaned forward.

"Not like that," I told her. "Bare-bottomed."

She blushed. For a few seconds, she considered her options, but in the end, she raised her skirt and pulled her panties down to her knees. I guessed that she was no stranger to the position. I looked at Susan and Jessica, waiting for them to make their choice. In the end, both of them stepped over to the desk, pulled their dresses up and their panties down, and leaned forward.

I grabbed the paddle and stood up. I looked at the three bare, quivering backsides presented to me. In another situation, it would have been a very enjoyable sight, but I was still angry with all of them.

"You will each receive twenty strokes. If you stand up, the stroke will not count. Is that understood?"

Joan replied, "Yes, sir." The other two followed. I smiled. Joan was DEFINITELY no stranger to this position.

Susan was standing to the right. Joan was in the middle, with Jessica on the left. I walked over to Susan, lifting the paddle.

SMACK! A groan of pain escaped her lips. I walked over to Joan.

SMACK! No reaction as far as I could tell. I walked over to the third miscreant.

SMACK! "Owie!" Jessica was the loudest of them, and she shot me a dirty look over her shoulder. I moved back to Susan.

SMACK! She stayed down, biting her tongue.

SMACK! Joan took her strokes well – yet more evidence she was used to spankings.

SMACK! Jessica cried out in pain. It was clear she didn't have Joan's experience.

SMACK! Three steps, and on to the next bottom.

SMACK! No movement, no cries. Joan had laid down, just waiting for it to be over.

SMACK! With a yelp of pain, Jessica jumped to her feet. She turned to me, scowling at me as she rubbed her bottom furiously.

"That one doesn't count," I told her. "Bend over." She was about to say something, but must have realized it probably wasn't smart right now. Reluctantly, she bent back over the desk.

SMACK! She yelled in pain, but stayed in position.

SMACK! All three bottoms were now turning pink, but Joan's was still paler, and I realized that her experience brought her a certain protection. I made a mental note to increase the strength of her strokes. She was, after all, just as guilty as the other two.

SMACK! Joan was clearly unprepared for the extra force, and let out a surprised yelp.

SMACK! Another stroke, another loud cry.

SMACK! Susan was now stomping her feet to rid herself of the pain.

SMACK! This stroke was actually hard enough to echo through the room, but Joan stayed in position.

SMACK! Jessica was crying, big tears splashing down on my desk.

SMACK! A sharp intake of breath through gritted teeth.

SMACK! Through sound alone, Susan had determined that Joan was receiving a harsher punishment than the other two, and sent her a sympathetic look. I wondered briefly how she could think about this with her own bottom burning, but realized it was partly a way of focusing on something other than her own paddled rear.

SMACK! A loud cry, and Jessica was once again back on her feet. She turned to me again, but this time, she sent me a plea rather than a scowl. I pointed at the desk, and she complied.

SMACK! She was holding onto the desk so hard her knuckles were turning white.

SMACK! Susan had noticed Jessica's extra strokes, and was holding on for dear life; it was clear the twenty strokes she had been promised was more than enough for her.

SMACK! Even with the harder strokes, Joan fared better than her fellow thieves.

SMACK! Tears kept flowing, and I noted that the papers under Jessica's face were now completely ruined.

SMACK! "Owowowowow..." Susan kept on repeating herself for some time.

SMACK! Joan cried out in pain, and even she had started to hold on hard.

SMACK! I half expected Jessica to lose control again, but she managed to stay on the desk.

SMACK! By now, Susan was crying as well.

SMACK! Joan cried out again. It was clear she was feeling the sting.

SMACK! Jessica wriggled around, desperately trying to stay down even if every fibre of her being screamed at her to leap up.

SMACK! Susan kept whispering how sorry she was, and how she was never going to steal from me again.

SMACK! Joan suffered in dignity, but by now, even her eyes flowed over with tears.

SMACK! Another stroke, another cry, but Jessica managed to stay down.

I took a step back to admire the red bottoms decorating my office. Joan was starting to catch up with Susan, but was still quite a bit paler. Thanks to her extra strokes, Jessica was the owner of the reddest bottom.

"Girls, each of you have now received ten strokes." I half expected Jessica to protest that, but she was wiser than I gave her credit for. "The next ten will be different. Instead of going from one to the other, I will give Susan her ten before moving on to Joan. Is that understood?"

Again, Joan was the first to reply "Yes, sir", before the two others followed suit. Their voices were barely audible through the loud sobbing.

I stepped over to Susan, and rubbed the paddle in circles on her bottom while I spoke. "Susan, why are you being punished?"

"Stealing, sir," she managed to say.

"That's right." With that, I raised the paddle.

Ten swift strokes, and her bottom, previously a light red, turned scarlet. She managed to stay in position, and when the tenth landed, she collapsed crying. I reached forward and rubbed her bottom. It was unbelievably hot to the touch, and I felt a twitch of sympathy for the poor crying girl. She had stolen from me, and this was no more than she deserved, but still...

I moved on to Joan, and I realized that with her being so much more used to this, I would have to increase her punishment if this was to be in any way fair. I grabbed the paddle with both hands, took a step back and let it fly.

Joan was clearly shocked at the strength with which I paddled her bottom, but she still managed to stay down. In the end, she had a rear as red as Susan's, even if she wasn't crying as hard.

I stepped over to Jessica. Part of me wanted to let her go free, the cute little minx who glanced over her shoulder at me with big, tear-filled eyes, but I knew that would be unfair to the other two. I told her to brace herself.

The first stroke landed, and she was back at her feet. Without a word, I pointed down at the desk, and she went back into position.

Another stroke, and again, she leapt up. She looked at me, eyes begging for mercy, but she didn't even wait for my command before going back over the desk. I told the other girls to stand up, and they did so.

"Since Jessica seems unable to stay in position, she's going to need her help." I instructed them to hold her down for the last ten strokes. They did so. With the two girls holding her down, whispering comforting words as they held her hand, I stepped behind her and lifted the paddle.

The last ten strokes were the lightest of the evening, but still torture on an already paddled bottom. When the last stroke landed, the girls held on to her for a second or two, before releasing her. Jessica leapt to her feet, rubbing her bottom. The other girls joined her.

I stood there for a while, enjoying the sight of three women, skirt and dresses raised, panties lowered, red rears on display as they rubbed the sting out of their bottoms.

Afterwards, I sat down and told them what was going to happen from now on (they chose to remain standing). They would all return to work. I would not dock any pay, I would give them most of the same responsibility as before. Even if they had been punished for their misdeeds, they had still abused my trust, but they would hopefully earn back that trust. I would change the lock on the safe, with the only key being in my possession.

They all returned to their work afterwards, not looking forward to sitting down. Joan asked for permission to go down to the shop and purchase three comfy pillows. I allowed it.

I decided to hang the paddle up on the wall, as a memory of sorts. The girls hated it, and told me more than once that they wanted to throw it away, but I told them that if it went missing, I would purchase a cane. Consequently, all of them left it alone.

I expected the girls to hold a grudge for this mistreatment of their bottoms, but quite the opposite. All of them agreed that they had broken my trust, and I had provided an alternative to outright loss of employment. In fact, the paddling brought us closer, and I am honoured to call all three of them a friend.

Internet Café (F/M story)

Tricia leaned back in her chair, smiling at her own brilliance. One of the computers had gotten a virus infection – at an internet café, viruses were an occupational hazard – but she was pretty sure she'd cleaned it up. She rebooted it, trying to recreate the problem, but it sure looked like the problem was solved. With her duties done, she decided to pull up the log and see what sites the users had been visiting.

She didn't work at the café every day, or even every week – she was a trouble-shooter, not a glorified waitress – but she always enjoyed her occasional visits. You'd be surprised at the sites people would visit when they thought no one was watching. Heck, she'd even learned of a few new sites in her time at the café.

As she pulled up the log, she gave out a small gasp. That's certainly something new, she told herself. She was pretty sure she hadn't seen those sites in the log before. One of the visitors had been visiting spanking sites. She read through the list of sites. Strict women. Banjo's BBS. A tumblr bearing the name "KILTGO."

"Knees I'd like to go over," she told herself. She'd seen the site before. She'd seen most of them before. Her life-long interest in spanking had been her little secret. And someone in the café shared that secret.

She looked through the list. The whole list seemed to consist of women spanking men, or strict women. Possibly a young man with a kink. She wondered who it was. Was he young and cute? Did he have a girlfriend? If not, then this poor man might go entirely un-spanked for his naughtiness. She grinned to herself. She couldn't let that happen to the poor boy.

She decided to spend some more time at the café, watching the log as customers came and went. If he returned, she'd find him. And after a few days of careful vigil, she'd spotted him. A young man, early twenties or thereabouts. He'd sit down on the computer, surf energetically for a few minutes, and leave. Not surprising, she realized. He was most likely gathering masturbatory material, and the staff would probably complain if he dropped his trousers and cracked one off in the café.

He was certainly cute, she concluded. She'd asked the other girls here about him, and told them she might be interested in him. Which was true enough, in a way. His name was Jake, and as far as they knew, he was single. She smiled. A young, cute, naughty boy right under her nose. Her palm started to itch just thinking about it.

That Saturday, she made her move. He arrived at the café, sitting down on the computer he always used – with his back to the wall, of course, so no one could look over his shoulder. She was watching the log. She rose to her feet the second he opened one of his websites. He jerked as she sat down next to him, rapidly closing the web page, glancing at her as if he was making sure she hadn't seen the page.

Cute. He probably thought the site was gone, now. Taking the mouse from his hand, she opened the browser again, opening the log to display the last web page. The spanking site returned, showing a cute girl with glasses, grinning as she slapped the bare-bottomed lad over her knee. Tricia looked at her prey. "Care to explain yourself?"

The boy grew pale, looking as if he was about to pass out. He probably thought she'd report her to the police, or call the other girls working here to laugh at his choice of websites. Nothing could be further from the truth, but she enjoyed watching him squirm.

She straightened her back, looking as authoritative as she could. "You've been a very naughty boy today, looking at these websites," she told him. "Very naughty indeed."

The look of pure fear on his face changed, to one equal parts embarrassed, scared and intrigued. Perhaps he'd dreamt of this, a young woman telling him off for his naughtiness before leading him of for a good spanking. Well, if that was the case, his prayers were about to be answered. "I'm Tricia, the resident computer expert. I think you should come with me."

She led him out back, to the apartment that the owner of the café used when she was in town. She wasn't, and wouldn't be for another week, which was one of the reasons the place was perfect for her needs. The other reason was that Michelle, the owner, had previously been in a band. And she still had the sound-proof room she practised in.

The boy was still following her, blushing bright red and feebly trying to stammer out an apology. She led him into the practise room, taking a seat in the only chair in the room. After all, sitting would not be a priority to her guest.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?" she asked the young man as he stood before her, fidgeting. He shook his head.

"You were very naughty, visiting web pages like that. In public, no less. I'm afraid I have no other choice but to take you over my knee and give your little bottom a good spanking." She did her best to sound disappointed, but it wasn't easy. Putting this cute young man over her lap was as much an answer to HER prayers as it was to his.

With a crooked finger, she beckoned him over. She unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, pulling them down to his knees. The tent in his boxers told him much he enjoyed this, and she was glad her own enjoyment was less visible. She lowered the boxers as well, causing his erection to bounce forward. For the moment, she ignored it.

She patted her lap. "Over my knee, you naughty, naughty boy."

She grinned as his pale backside quivered under her palm, and she slowly rubbed his bottom, pinching his cheeks a little. It was even cuter in the nude. She lifted her palm. "This is going to hurt, I'm afraid," she said. And from his reaction as her hand landed, she knew she was right.

Her hand moved from cheek to cheek, trying to paint a bit of colour into his posterior. She moved slowly, but firmly, as she wanted to extend their enjoyment. He was kicking his legs, but other than that, he seemed to be trying to be brave. Foolish, she thought. She was going to reduce him to tears, no matter how brave he tried to be.

He gasped as the sting in his rear end began to grow, and he was squirming around on her lap, his erection rubbing into her thigh. She frowned. If he squirted on her, he was really going to pay.

As his rear grew from white to pink to red, his kicking grew stronger and his crying grew louder, but at no point did he tell her to stop. Not that she'd have listened to him if he did, of course.

When she was satisfied with the colour of his bottom, she helped him to his feet and led him into the corner, telling him to remain there with his hands at his side if he knew what was good for him. She sat down in the chair again, enjoying the sight as she thought about what she would do next. Perhaps she'd help him take his mind off the ache. After all, she had a few hours to waste with him, and Michelle had a VERY comfortable bed...

Tonight (M/f story)

Stephen took another handful of popcorn, shoving it in his mouth before leaning back in his chair. It was Friday night, there was a good film on, his sister Jackie was visiting a friend (meaning she wouldn't be playing any loud music for the next few hours)... He'd watch the film, and maybe go to sleep early, as he was a bit tired. Basically, a lovely evening.

Then, the phone rang.


Jackie was sitting on a bench at the police station, nervously biting her fingernail. It was just a beer, she thought to herself. He'll understand, right?

She was kidding herself, and she knew it. Her brother would certainly punish her for this – he considered under-age drinking a serious matter. She wished she'd never gone to that party. She wished the police hadn't arrived. She wished they hadn't realized she was under-age, and that they hadn't hauled her into the station. She wished that when Stephen arrived, he'd give her a hug, tell her everything was all right, take her home, and NOT spank her bottom sore. But in the back of her mind, she knew it was futile.

Stephen arrived, sending her a strict glare as he walked past her. She recognized it; it was his Wait-until-I-get-you-home-young-lady look, and there were very few things she feared more than that look.

Things did not go as swiftly at the police station as Stephen had hoped, and by the time he got his little sister into the car to go home, it was over midnight.

"I'm really, really, REALLY sorry, Stephen," she said in a small voice. He didn't answer.

"Are..." She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. "Are you going to spank me?"

"What do you think?" he said coldly.

She nodded, starting to cry. That was what she was afraid of.

As they entered the house, he turned to her. "Go to bed. I'll deal with you in the morning," He gave her a quick swat to the seat of her jeans to hurry her along. He yawned: it had been a long day.

"Yes, sir," Jackie said, relieved to have her punishment postponed.

That relief passed. She tried to sleep, but the knowledge that, come morning, Stephen would enter her room, take down her pyjama bottoms, take her over his knee, and spank the daylights out of her, made the task somewhat difficult. She looked over at the clock: 3.15. She reached her hand back to rub her bottom, wondering how hard it would be. Would his hand be enough, or would he ask her to fetch her brush? He did that sometimes, when he felt she had been naughtier than usual. He'd probably use the brush, she concluded glumly. This was a bit more serious than her usual shenanigans – it always was when the police had to be involved.

She rolled over in bed. She couldn't go on like this; she wouldn't get a moment of sleep if the spanking was still hanging over her, lurking in the future. She knew what she had to do.

It was just so incredibly hard to do it.

"Stephen?" A hand shook his shoulder. "Stephen? Wake up please. Stephen?"

Gradually, the fog in Stephen's mind lifted, and he looked up to see his sister standing over his bed in her pink pyjamas. She was biting her lip while she stared at the floor with her hands behind her back. He looked at his watch; it was four in the morning. "You'd better have a REALLY good reason to wake me up, Jackie, or you'll be in a world of trouble."

"I can't sleep," she said, in a tiny, scared voice.

"And that's my fault, is it?"

"Yes," she said, nodding, but corrected herself when she saw the look on his face. "I-i mean no! It's..." she sniffled, trying to hold the tears back. "I'm scared, Stephen. I'm too scared to sleep."

"About the spanking you've got coming?" he guessed.

She nodded. "I can't sleep, knowing I'll get it as soon as I wake up.

He raised an eyebrow, or at least tried to. He was still quite tired. "Are you asking me what I think you're asking me?"

She held out the hairbrush she'd held behind her back, handing it to him. "I'd rather get it over with now," she said. She was pale, and there were tears in her eyes. He had to help her, he concluded.

He saw three options. One, forgive her and let her get off without a spanking. That didn't feel right; he couldn't let her get away with her misbehaviour like that. Two, TELL her she was forgiven, so she'd calm down and fall asleep, but still give her a spanking come morning. That option was out of the question. He wasn't cruel enough to get her hopes up like that. Three, wake himself up and give her what she asked for.

He sighed, burying his face in his hands. He was so tired. "Go to the kitchen," he said. "Make me a cup of coffee – strong." She obeyed immediately, and he stumbled into the bathroom, splashing a bit of water into his face. He needed to wake up.

I've finally gone insane, Jackie told herself. She'd actually asked for a spanking. She'd handed the brush to Stephen and asked him to use it on her poor, defenceless backside. She shrugged. At least she wouldn't have to wait all night.

He went back into the bedroom, putting on his trousers. He wanted to be somewhat dressed before giving her what she needed. He still wasn't wearing a shirt, but he was in no mood to look for one, and it didn't really matter.

He picked up the brush that was now lying on his pillow, before sitting down on the bed. Shortly afterwards, Jackie entered, handing him a cup of coffee. He thanked her. She'd put a bit of milk in it, which he never did, but in this case, it was a good thing, as it made the coffee slightly cooler. He blew on it, before drinking the whole thing in one gulp.

As soon as he felt slightly awake, he looked up at her. "It's time for your spanking."

With experienced hands, he reached forward, pulling her pyjamas bottom down past her knees, all the way to the floor. She nervously stepped out of them, leaving her bare from the waist down. He guided her over his lap, adjusting her so that her bottom was raised over his knee. He picked up the brush, patting it against her quivering cheeks. "I want you to think about what you did," he said. "I want you to think about that party, and that beer. And I want you to promise me, and yourself, that you will never do anything like that again." And with that, he began the spanking.

Any lingering thoughts that the wait was worse than the spanking itself were gone from her mind as the hard wood of the brush cracked against her backside. She yelped, kicking her legs and squirming as if attempting to escape the pain, but a firm arm around her waist kept her in place and made sure every stroke of the brush landed exactly where he wanted it to. The awful brush branded her poor backside, spreading agony across her cheeks. Putting it off until morning suddenly sounded like a great idea.

Stephen hardened his heart to her yelps of pain. He hated doing this to her, but it was the only way he could get her to behave. He'd tried grounding, loss of privileges, all that, but nothing seemed to work quite as well as a good, old-fashioned spanking.

Her once-pale bottom was now pink and turning red, and she was sobbing.

When he was satisfied she'd learned her lesson, he picked her up, seating her on his lap and giving her a long hug. She cried against his shoulder, her sobs slowly calming down. After a few minutes, he realized she'd fallen asleep. He carried her into her bedroom, placing her on her bed – on her stomach, of course. He watched as she slept, still bare from the waist down: her pyjamas bottoms were still on the floor of his bedroom. She looked so cute and vulnerable, he couldn't help but smile. Suddenly, he noticed how tired he was; it seemed the effect of the coffee had worn off. He hoped he could make it back to his bedroom and his bed before falling asleep.

He managed neither, and spent the rest of the night sleeping on the floor of the hallway.

Trouble at the camp (M/fff & m/f story)

"I've had an idea," Colleen said as she sat down on the large rock at the beach, grinning at her friends.

"Go on," Marigold said. Next to her, Laura was having trouble seeming interested in whatever it was Colleen was about to tell them.

The three teenagers were currently at a summer camp, and while the place was a paradise, most of it was closed off to them. They couldn't go swimming without a counselor watching them. They couldn't go into the nearby woods without a counselor, and so on.

Marigold waited for Colleen to tell them what her big idea was. It was quite strange; the three girls hadn't been friends back home – casual acquaintances at best – but since they were the only girls their age at the camp, it had seemed inevitable.

"It's about Kade," Colleen said, smiling smugly as Laura whipped her head around to look at her, suddenly interested. Marigold shifted in her seat. Kade was one of the boys at the camp. He was about their age, but a bit strange – that kid who is well-behaved and friendly, but still spends most of his time alone. No one – apart from the three girls – actively disliked him, but he didn't have many friends either.

Well. Two of the three girls disliked him. Marigold really didn't mind him, but since her only friends at the camp hated him, it had been decided that Marigold disliked him as well.

"You know Kade never gets into trouble?" Colleen continued. The girls nodded. He was one of those kids who seemed unable to grasp the idea of breaking the rules, another testament to his strangeness. "We're going to get him into trouble. We'll get him punished by the camp counselors."

Laura seemed unconvinced. "How are you going to achieve that?"

"How are WE going to achieve that?" Colleen corrected her. "We'll leave one of our backpacks in the woods, and tell Kade we forgot it there when we went for a walk. He'll offer to go inside to look for it, and then we'll get him punished for it." She smiled to herself, clearly convinced of her own brilliance. Marigold wasn't so sure, but Laura seemed to like the idea.

They used Marigold's backpack for the deceit. Marigold protested, but Laura pointed out that Colleen had a pink backpack, while Laura's was yellow – both quite visible in the woods. Marigold's was green, making it harder to find. This meant that Kade would spend more time looking for it, and it was more likely he would get caught doing it.

They left the woods, finding Kade. As they'd suspected, when they told him about the missing backpack, he offered to look for it. He'd said that he'd wait a bit, as it was lunch soon and he didn't want to be caught absent, but he was adamant that he'd find it for them.

As soon as they were sure he could no longer hear them, the girls broke out in a giggling fit. "He volunteered," Colleen said. "He's agreed to his own punishment, basically."

"How could he not?" Laura smiled smugly. "Too friendly for his own good, that boy." She shook her head. "Well, he'll learn his mistake soon enough."

Marigold wanted to smile, but she had found a small error in the plan that could prove fatal. "Colleen? How do we make sure Kade is punished for this? I mean, that's the point, right?"

"We tell one of the counselors that we saw Kade sneak into the woods," Colleen explained. "They'll wait for him to come out."

"And he'll come out on his own?" Marigold said. Colleen nodded. "Carrying MY backpack?" Colleen nodded, but as Marigold's point made its way through her skull, she grew pale.

"Ah. I hadn't considered that." For a second, she seemed unsure of herself, but that soon passed. "I'll think of something. Don't worry, no one will know that we were in the woods today."

"You were what?" A cold voice said behind them. The girls squealed, spinning around to face this new threat. Darien, one of the camp counselors, was glaring down at them.

"We weren't!" Laura told him. "I promise, we were nowhere NEAR the woods today!" She pouted, trying to give him her most pleading eyes.

"There's leaves on your shoes," he pointed out. "Care to explain that one?"

As he started lecturing them about the dangers of going into the woods alone, and about how important it was to listen to the counselors, Marigold found she'd already put her hands protectively over her bottom. She glanced to each side, and found that the other two had done the same. They all knew what the punishment would be. He would put them over his knee, one after the other, and spank their bottoms. They'd all been spanked at the camp, more than once, and knew the drill.

Marigold hoped he would lead them into the sleeping quarters before punishing them. Sure, he was more likely to pull their underwear down if he did, but at least they wouldn't be punished in public, plainly visible to anyone that happened to pass by. She didn't get her hopes up, though; Darien was a big fan of humiliation as a deterrent.

"You are all going to get a spanking for this," Darien said as he glared down at them. He found a nearby bench, and patted his lap. "Come here, Laura."

The girl inched forward, too scared to walk over to him, and too scared of the consequences to stand still. When she came close enough, he reached out, pulling her over his lap. She squealed as his big, firm palm covered her rear end. "I hope you'll learn something from this." And he started to spank.

Laura did her best to stay silent, not wanting to draw any more attention than she had to, but the sting in her butt was stronger than her will, and soon, she was crying loudly. Marigold glanced around to see who was watching, but it didn't seem like anyone had noticed yet.

Then she saw Kade, standing near the house as he watched what was happening, his face expressionless face. So in a few minutes, Kade would be watching her get her bottom spanked. That made the whole thing far more embarrassing.

Finally, Laura was allowed of his lap, and she bounced around from leg to leg, trying to rub the pain away. Darien looked at Colleen, once again patting his lap. She seemed even more nervous than Laura had, probably because she'd just seen what happened to her friend. She was crying before the first smack landed, and kicked her legs like crazy every time Darien's palm landed.

Marigold squirmed as she watched Colleen's bottom turning redder and redder, knowing that the same thing would soon happen to her. Some of the other kids had appeared, grinning as they watched the show. The counselors wanted them to watch to teach them a lesson about behaving, but there wasn't a child around that thought along those lines.

Colleen was sobbing loudly before she was allowed to stand, and just knelt on the ground, too tired to rub her bottom. Darien turned towards Marigold, and she tried to swallow the lump that suddenly appeared in her throat. It was her turn.

She stepped forward, not wanting to add to her punishment, and she soon found herself staring at the ground as a palm with roughly the same softness as a plank of wood patted her behind. "I want you girls to behave from now on," he said before starting the spanking.

Like Laura, Marigold tried her best to be brave, but as every smack lit a small fire in her bottom, she soon found the task impossible. Tears were rolling down her cheeks, and she completely forgot about everyone watching, forgot about everything but the burning pain. Darien wasted no time, but spanked hard and fast, wanting to get his unpleasant task over and done with.

Even so, she felt like she'd been over his lap for a year by the time she was allowed to stand. As she rubbed her aching bottom, Darien turned to her friend. "Come here, Laura."

She stepped over, sniffling. "What for?"

"When I confronted you earlier, you told me that you hadn't been in the woods, didn't you? You lied to me. That was very naughty."

Laura's eyes widened in fright, and she tried to step back, but Darien caught her and pulled her back over his knee. "I hope this will teach you to stop lying, Laura."

She only got about a dozen smack or so, but they were the hardest of the day, and delivered on an already aching bottom. Marigold was very glad she wasn't in her friend's shoes as the girl rose to her feet again, sobbing loudly.

About an hour later, Marigold was sitting on a bench near the beach, squirming around as she tried to find a position that didn't sting quite as much. It wasn't easy. Suddenly, she saw Kade approaching. She was a little bit surprised to find a very concerned look on her face. "Are you all right?" he said as he reached her, his eyes full of sympathy.

"I'm OK," Marigold answered, a little taken aback. "Painful, but I'll live."

"It LOOKED painful," Kade answered, rubbing the back of his head as if he was having difficulty finding the words. "I found your backpack," he said at last, and Marigold suddenly noticed what he was holding.

For a split second, she considered telling a counselor that he'd been in the woods, but she discarded the thought. Seeing him punished wouldn't make her feel the least bit better, she realized. Quite the opposite.

"Thanks," she said, and surprised them both by standing up and giving him a hug. They sat down on the bench and started talking.

Half an hour later, Marigold realized that she'd made a new friend.

Over the next few days, Marigold discovered how interesting Kade could be, once you got past his dull exterior. Kade, for his part, seemed to love the friendship they were developing, and he started to smile in a way she'd never seen him do before – more heartfelt and honest than the non-threatening mask he'd worn before.

But during all of this, Marigold could never quite forget how she'd tried to trap him, gotten together with her friends to get him in trouble with the camp counselors. A lump was forming in her stomach, causing her to feel sad, and she had a horrible feeling that the only cure would be to confess.

One Friday afternoon, they'd been wandering in the rocky terrain near the camp, just a couple of the more energetic kids and a counselor, when Kade had fallen and hurt his leg. It wasn't serious, but his leg would be painful to walk on for a day or two, and the counselors had decided that he'd stay home for the hike they'd planned the next day. Kade wasn't too disappointed; he didn't mind small walks, but the long hike they'd been planned didn't sound too interesting to him.

Marigold had volunteered to stay back at the camp with him, since she was his only close friend at the camp, and he shouldn't have to stay behind on his own. The counselors had agreed, but had told them that they should stay at the camp, and stay out of the woods and the water, since no one was around to keep an eye on them. Kade and Marigold had both agreed to this.

If she'd been perfectly honest with them, and she rarely was, Marigold would have admitted that her reasons for staying behind were more selfish than she'd led them to believe. She wanted to keep Kade company, sure, but there were other reasons as well.

First of all, she didn't want to go on the hike either. Listening to the lazier kids whining about how tired they were, while others were complaining about how slowly they were moving, didn't sound like her idea of fun. Second, she wanted to talk to Kade about something, and wanted to be alone. And it would be impossible to find a more private moment than this.

When she'd waved goodbye to the counselors, Marigold went to find Kade. He was sitting in one of the comfier chairs, keeping his leg elevated as he read one of his books. As she approached him, he looked up at her and gave her a smile, one that soon disappeared as he saw the nervous look on her face. "What's wrong?" he asked her, his voice full of concern.

"I have a confession to make." She swallowed; there was a lump in her throat that seemed even larger than the one in her stomach, if that was possible. "Please don't hate me for this."

And she explained everything that had happened the day he retrieved her backpack. How they'd laid a trap for him, using his own compassion against him as they tried to trick him into getting punished by the counselors. She explained how the scheme had failed, when the girls were hoisted by their own petard, and were spanked by one of the counselors. She even included that she'd felt the desire, however brief it was, to rat him out when he finally DID get her backpack. Still trying to punish him for being helpful.

When she finally finished, she looked at the floor, unable to meet his eyes. Finally, curiosity got the better off her, and she lifted her gaze. She could see that her confession had upset him, but finally, he shrugged. "Hey, you tried to do something wrong, but it failed. No harm done, I was never hurt or anything. I forgive you."

Marigold sighed. "That's the problem. I DON'T forgive me." She bit her lip, not totally sure she wanted to proceed. "I think I need to be punished for it."

Kade scratched his head, seeming quite confused. "But you WERE punished. I was there, remember?"

She blushed as she thought about how he'd been standing there, watching as she'd been dragged over the camp counselor's knee. "That was for going into the woods. I was never punished for lying to you, for betraying your trust, and for trying to trap you." She took a deep breath to steady her nerves, before looking up at him. "Kade, will you spank me?"

For a long time, Kade just stared at her, trying to comprehend what she'd just said. "What?"

She sighed. "Please, Kade. I need to be punished for this. And you're the one I tried to harm." She swallowed again, the lump still a problem to her. "I won't feel well until I'm punished for it."

Kade nodded to himself. She'd felt she was being mad, actually asking to be punished, but he seemed to understand. He looked at her. "If that's what you want, I will do it."

He got to his feet, limping over to sit down on the couch. As he sat down, he patted his lap, looking at her. She stepped over to him, feeling quite nervous about what was to happen. She wasn't sure Kade could cause her any real pain – he was probably strong enough, but he didn't have the heart for it. But the humiliation, on the other hand, would be significant.

Once he'd helped her over his lap, making sure she was as comfortable as possible given the circumstances, he patted her shorts-covered rear end. Marigold whimpered a bit in anticipation as she felt him lift his hand. The spanking was about to begin.

She gave out a little yelp as his palm landed, bringing with it a small sting, but it wasn't anything close to the pain she'd gotten from her punishment spanking by the counselor – not even remotely so. He kept on smacking, the sound of his palm the only sound in the otherwise quiet room. He suddenly stopped. "I think your shorts should come down," he said. When she didn't protest, he undid the button, lowering the shorts to her knees.

Marigold squirmed a little as she thought about the fact that she was now in her panties before him. She didn't know why it was more humiliating to be in her panties than it was to be in her bikini bottoms; they covered the same amount of skin, so there was no logical reason for there to be a difference. Still, it felt different, and her stomach tingled in ways she didn't quite understand.

He continued the spanking, moving from cheek to cheek with the regularity of a metronome. She glanced up to look at his face, and was surprised to see how determined he seemed. It really shouldn't surprise her, she thought. He always tried to do his best in everything he did.

Each smack didn't sting much, but there was a lot of them, and the pain grew. He'd been spanking her for more than ten minutes now, and the burning sensation in her backside caused her to kick her legs, and she felt tears at the edges of her eyes. She was sure that her skin had turned pink under his hand.

That's when he did something that caused her to gasp loudly. He stopped spanking her, and moved his thumbs to the waistband of her panties.

As he heard her gasp, he hesitated, and Marigold knew she could stop him. She could tell him to leave her panties up, and he'd do it, there was no question about it. Heck, she could tell him to stop the spanking, and he'd probably help her up and hug her. She was looking forward to that hug.

But not yet. She said nothing, and as she didn't protest, he pulled the panties down to her knees.

He placed his hand on her bare bottom. The thought caused her to feel faint. She was over the lap of a boy her own age, and he had his hand on her naked butt. She had a feeling there was something wrong about it, but it felt very, very right all the same. He rubbed her bottom a little, seemingly distracted by the sight, and it was clear that he was as intrigued as she was.

Then, he lifted his palm again and continued the spanking.

Soon, Marigold was crying, surprised at how much more it stung without the protection of her clothes. She squirmed as the fire in her bottom grew, and she buried her face in the couch pillow.

When Kade finally stopped the spanking, rubbing her back as he helped her up, Marigold was convinced she'd never sit comfortably again. Tears were rolling down her cheeks, but Kade held her close, whispering kind words into her ear as he hugged her tight. She smiled to herself. This made it all worth it.

When the others made it back to the camp, hours later, Marigold and Kade were sitting at the table, playing cards, and there was nothing to lead anyone to suspect anything out of the ordinary had been going on.

Spring cleaning (F/M story)

"Time to get up now," Mary said as she shook her boyfriend awake.

"Uh. What time is it?" John said drowsily, as if the answer wasn't really that important to him.

"It's nine in the morning, and you promised to help me with the spring cleaning today."

"I'll get up later," he said as he rolled over on his stomach, away from her.

She lifted the cover, delivering a sharp smack to his backside. "You'll get up now if you know what's good for you."

"Ow!" he said, rubbing at the stinging mark. "OK, chill."

An hour later, he was standing behind the shed, third smoke of the day in his hand. He had never quite had the energy that Mary had. She could work for hours, with a smile on her face and a song in her heart. He... couldn't.

He was just about to put the cigarette to his lips again, when a sharp pain jolted through him. Mary had grabbed him by the earlobe, and she wasn't about to let go.

"Any particular reason you're hiding behind the shed when you should be helping me?" She picked up the pack of cigarettes, which had fallen to the ground. Her eyes narrowed. "I see." She looked up at her boyfriend, sending him the strictest look she could muster. "Go to the front of the garden. I'll deal with you there."

Reluctantly, he obeyed-

"Now," she said, sitting down in the sturdy garden chair she employed in cases like this. "Drop those shorts and get over my knee."

As he lowered his shorts, John thought about just how much he hated being punished outside. The nearest neighbours were quite a bit away, so there was little danger of that, but people driving by could see quite a bit. And even worse, some of their friends might come by! Once, two of her friends had come by while she was spanking him, and she had invited them to sit down while she finished his spanking. And afterwards, he had been made to work in the garden, naked from the waist down, red bottom on display! It was not one of his happier memories.

She adjusted him over her knee, pushing him forward to raise his bottom. She rubbed the pale cheeks in front of her, causing him to squirm slightly in anticipation. Without warning, she suddenly lifted her hand and gave him a good smack.

She spanked hard and fast, determined to teach him a good lesson as soon as possible. He kicked a little as the sting in his posterior grew, but not much. He wanted to avoid earning extras.

Tears were forming in his eyes as the barrage upon his unprotected bottom continued, and he couldn't keep himself from squirming, hoping that it wasn't enough to earn her ire.

Mary smiled a little to herself as she placed a dozen hard smacks on his sit spots. She would never punish him for her own sake, just his, but she had to admit she found it very therapeutic.

"Stand up," she told him with a final smack. Both hands flew back to rub his stinging bottom as he jumped from leg to leg.

"Now. Strip."

He turned to face her, fear apparent in his eyes.

"But you've spanked me already!"

"I spanked you for sneaking off. Now, I'm going to punish you for smoking," she said, holding up the pack of cigarettes she had confiscated.

He knew any disobedience during punishment would be strictly dealt with, so he started taking his shirt off, then his shoes.

Soon, he was standing there completely nude, hands at his sides. She pointed at the carpet hanging from the washing line.

"See that? The rug you SHOULD have been beating?" He nodded, and she lifted up the carpet beater. "I think it's only fitting that I use this on your naughty bottom, don't you?"

"Yes, ma'am."

She pointed at the closest garden chair. "Place that in front of the carpet and bend over. I want you to look at the carpet while I beat you."

He did as instructed, goosebumps forming on his skin in the cold air. "Aw, is it cold outside, sweetie?" she asked, before patting the carpet beater against her palm. "Well, I'll fix that for you."

SWAT! A loud noise and a short scream.

SWAT! John stomped his feet a little, digging his nails into the chair to avoid standing up; he really didn't want to earn extras.

He had no idea how many swats he got, but it felt like it went on forever before he was allowed to stand up.

"Now," she said, patting his bum a little, "Get dressed and get back to work. I don't want to do this again."

John couldn't agree more with her.

Window (m/f story)

Judy had been struggling for about five minutes before she finally got the window up, and she had to wipe her sweaty hands on her shirt before she climbed through it. That window had always been troublesome, but no one had ever bothered to fix it. Finally I'm in, she told herself as she scanned the room. Now, to find out where he'd hidden his homework.

Ryan was Judy's neighbour, and they'd been in the same class in school all their life. He had a better head for maths than she had, but had refused to allow her to copy his homework. "I'm not taking the chance," he'd said. "This assignment is important, and if they find out we cheated…"

When she'd pointed out that if he didn't help her, SHE'D fail, he had ignored her.

She looked at her watch. He'd been gone a few minutes, and she knew that he was going to the store. Ten minutes there, ten minutes back, and however long it took to actually do the shopping... she had at least twenty minutes – more than enough. Better keep one eye on the watch, though. Being caught sneaking into his room would be very embarrassing, and he'd hide his homework better in the future. She wanted to avoid that.

She opened a few drawers, grinning to herself as she found something in one of them. A diary. Not what she came for, but interesting, nonetheless. She picked it up, hoping for a few juicy secrets, but found nothing worth repeating.

A small wooden ruler in another drawer. Not too interesting. What next?

She saw his wallet on the table, and briefly thought about taking a couple of pounds, to punish him for not helping her. In the end, she decided against. She wasn't a thief, she told herself. The fact that she had broken into his room to steal his homework didn't matter.

She looked around. She'd checked every drawer. Could it still be in his backpack? She opened it, searching through it, but fruitlessly. She took another look around the room. Next to his writing desk, perhaps?

Suddenly, she heard footsteps through the house. Ryan had returned. But why? He'd only been gone a few minutes! Abort mission, she told herself as she ran silently over to the window. He was almost to the door as she stepped over, diving out the window...

...But as she was halfway through, she must have nudged it, and the tired old window gave out, slamming down. She gasped as the window crashed down on her back, pushing all the air out her lungs. She tried to move, but found herself stuck. She realized to her embarrassment that she would need help to get away.

She heard the door open, and a short pause before he whistled. "This room certainly got a lot more decorative while I was away," he said, and she blushed as she realized that her rear end was poking out at him. "Judy, I presume? Trying to steal my homework again?" He tutted. "You should have known better than to try going through that window. It's not safe."

"What are you doing back already? Weren't you going to the store?" she said, trying her best to sound more dignified than she felt.

"I was, but I discovered I'd forgotten my wallet. But if I hadn't, I wouldn't have had this view, so it all worked out."

"Are you going to help me, or are you going to stand there staring?" she snapped.

"Stand here staring," he replied. "Or maybe I'll do something else." She heard him open a drawer. "I'm sick of you stealing my homework, Judy. Why can't you just WORK for your grade, like the rest of us do?"

Suddenly, a sharp sting to her left cheek, which caused her to cry out, was followed by a similar sting in her right cheek. "Ow! What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm spanking you," he explained patiently. "I have a wooden ruler perfect for the job. And you have no idea how tempting a target you are right now."

The ruler fell on the seat of her shorts again and again, causing her to squirm as the sting. She kicked her legs, trying to get loose, but she was still stuck. "Ouch! I'll have your head for this, you bastard!"

"Bastard?" he replied, stopping. "Your attitude is still a problem, but I think this might to the trick." She gasped as she felt him undoing the button on her shorts, pulling them – and her panties – down to her knees. She tried to resist, but in vain.

Her bare bottom was poking out for him to see, and there was nothing she could do about it.

"Are you learning your lesson?" he said as he continued spanking her. "Are you going to stop stealing from me?"

The pain was getting unbearable, and she tried to kick her legs, but the shorts around her ankles kept them in place. She could feel the tears gathering in her eyes. "Ow! Please let me go, I'll do anything!"

"See, that's a better attitude," he said. He pulled her shorts and panties back up, and helped her get loose. As she stood on the floor of his bedroom, he stared as strictly as he could at her. "I meant what I said, Judy. You need to start doing your own homework." He gave her bottom a swift smack, causing her to grimace; her rear end was stinging like crazy already.

As she stood in her bedroom, studying her pink bottom in the mirror, Judy was making her plans. Their friendship wasn't over, they'd been through too much for that (not to admit that he did have a point; she had tried to steal from him), but she was going to make him pay for what he did to her butt.