It was an early Thursday evening, and Jake was sitting on the couch in his new apartment, having a few beers with his closest friends. They didn't usually drink in the middle of the week, but Jake had broken up with his girlfriend a few days before, and they felt he needed a bit of sympathy. He was telling them all about how she'd called him an immature man-child, and how she wished she'd never met him.
Harry was telling him how lucky he was that he got rid of her, and how he'd take him out to the local bars, chasing skirt for a few nights. Kirsten was telling him that he was a decent man, and that he would bounce back soon enough.
Fred was talking about the drinking habits of giraffes, and Jake wasn't entirely sure whether he was trying to use it as an inspirational allegory, or if he'd just outright forgotten what they were discussing, but he was quite entertaining to listen to, at least. Sarah wasn't saying much, just giving him encouraging smiles to show she supported him. It was rare of her to be this quiet; she was never afraid to speak her mind.
As the night grew long, they started to leave. Almost everyone had work in the morning, leaving Jake and Sarah alone with the rest of the beer. He looked at her. "You've said very little all evening," he pointed out. She nodded. "What's your take on it, then?"
"I think she was right about one thing," she said calmly. "I think you are immature."
"Don't get me wrong," she said. "I think Kirsten was right. You ARE a decent man, quite intelligent and often kind. You know how to make people laugh, and know how to make them feel at home. But you can also be quite childish." She shrugged, as if to say that she couldn't be blamed for telling the truth.
"In what way?" he said, genuinely curious.
"You still put off paying your bills until the last minute. How many apartments have you lost because you were late with the rent?" She took a quick sip of beer before continuing. "How often do you clean? Your last apartment was spotless, but I'm pretty sure Holly had something to do with that. Can you honestly tell me you did your share of housework? And remember when you were out of work? How many weeks did it take you to start mailing your CV around?"
He listened in silence. He had to admit she had a point.
"You can be a kind, sweet man and a lovely friend, but can also act like a child itching for a spanking."
They kept drinking. Jake suddenly found himself deep in thought, going through everything Sarah had just told him. "Perhaps you're right," he said at last. "Perhaps I've acted like a child." He looked over at her. She was sitting in the chair, looking lovingly at him, and as he thought about the way she'd lectured him, he found his eyes drawn to her lap. Her words had woken something in him, something he couldn't quite explain and wasn't entirely comfortable with.
She followed his gaze, and gave him a strict glare as she patted her lap. "Come here."
He looked up at her, and tried to process what was going on. Was this actually going to happen? Was Sarah, the good-natured but responsible moral centre of the group, actually going to put him across her knee like he was a misbehaving child? Why was this concept so appealing to him, despite the embarrassment? He pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind and rose to his feet, deciding to get it over with before he got sober enough to realize what a bad idea it was.
He walked over to her and was about to bend over her lap, but she stopped him, and moved her hands to the front of his jeans. To his surprise, she started to unbutton and unzip his trousers – undressing him as if he was a child. A shiver ran down his back as he thought about what was to happen. He hadn't been spanked in over a decade, but the memories weren't his fondest.
As she guided him over his lap, he was surprised at the ease with which she had taken control of the situation. She acted as if it was an every-day occurrence for her to take a grown man's trousers down and put him across her knee for a spanking. Maybe it was. He gasped as she rubbed his bottom, and he was quivering in anticipation. She placed her fingers in the waistband of his boxers and began to pull them down, leaving his bottom bare before her eye. He wanted to protest, but couldn't. She gave his pale cheeks a few gentle pats before beginning the spanking.
As the slaps landed on his bottom, Jake was relieved by how little it stung, and if he was being perfectly honest, he had to admit it actually felt kind of good. Being over the lap of an attractive woman, her hands on your rear as she massaged your skin? He'd done kinkier stuff than that.
But slowly, the slaps grew harder and faster, and his cheeks were stinging quite a bit. He wriggled around on her lap, trying to escape that punishing hand, but she always struck right where she intended. Tutting at his squirming, she placed her left arm around his waist, making sure he wasn't going anywhere. At one point, he reached his hand back, trying to protect his stinging bottom, but she grabbed his wrist, holding it firmly against his back. Nothing was stopping her now.
His backside was burning now, and he was shocked to find tears at the edges of his eyes. He fought them back, vowing not to cry. Nothing was going to break him.
He was kicking his legs, anything to get the sting out, but nothing could stop the rain of spanks heating up his bottom. Then, as everything started to flow away, and the only thing he was aware of was the burning pain he was feeling, he started crying.
He sobbed loudly as Sarah helped him up, giving him a hug as they knelt on the floor, making sure his stinging bottom wasn't touching anything. She comforted him, whispering soothing words into his ears as his hands fluttered uselessly around his burning bottom, trying in vain to soothe the sting.
Once the crying had subsided, she helped him into his bedroom, undressing him completely before tucking him into bed. "I'll come see you tomorrow," she whispered as she kissed his cheek, and the exhausted man soon fell into a deep sleep.
The next day, Jake was busy cleaning as Sarah entered his apartment. "Hard at work this early?" she asked.
"Yeah," he said. "I felt like doing something useful."
She stepped up behind him, placing her hand gently on his rear end. Even that light touch made him wince. "Looks like that little talk we had, helped you." With her hand still in place, she leaned forward, whispering into his ear. "Perhaps you'd benefit from a blistered backside from time to time."
He didn't say anything, but he didn't have to. The look in his eyes spoke volumes.
She gave him a quick kiss, squeezing his bottom at the same time. "I think we should go for a coffee. My treat." She grinned. "If you're okay with trying to sit down in public."
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