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.