Hired to spank (F/FF story)

I was sitting in my dorm room on a Saturday afternoon, browsing the web, when my phone rang.

"Is this Mary? Mary Flannigan?"

"Yes, this is me", I responded. Yes, that's my name – coupled with my shoulder-length red hair, people usually realized I was Irish even before they heard my accent, even here in the US.

"Hi, I'm Sofia Castillo - Roberta and Teresa's mother. How do you do?" Roberta had been a classmate of mine during high school, and we were now in some of the same classes in college. Teresa was her sister, two years older, who went to the same college - the two sisters shared a small apartment nearby.

"I'm fine, Mrs Castillo. How are you?" I'd met the woman a few times when I was at Roberta's house to work on class projects in high school. I knew she was a hard-working lawyer and I'd exchanged a few words with her, but I couldn't fathom why in the world she would be calling me.

"All's well here back home, but I'm worried about my daughters. They're throwing parties in the middle of the week, sleeping through classes, not completing their assignments on time - what's the point of sending them to an expensive college of they're not studying?"

"I'm... sorry to hear that, Mrs Castillo," I said, wondering why she was telling me this. I knew lots of students that partied a little too hard when they finally found themselves out of the parental home, and wasn't too surprised to learn that the two sisters were among them - there was always loud music when I walked past their apartment. I'd been invited to parties there on a couple of occasions, but I always declined if we had classes the next day.

"Please, call me Sofia. Those girls are lucky I'm not there - they would find themselves over my lap getting their bottoms smacked if it wasn't too far to travel! A good, hard, bare-bottom spanking is just the thing to get them back in shape."

My jaw dropped, and I felt a blush creep into my cheeks. Roberta was the same age as me, so she would be at least eighteen - nineteen if she'd already had her birthday this year. I knew Teresa was born early in the year, so she was twenty-one. If I was still getting spanked even though I was old enough to vote, I wouldn't be particularly glad to learn that my mother was calling up my acquaintances and volunteering that fact.

"However, since the college is so far away, I'm going to have to delegate the task - and I thought of you."

"I beg your pardon?" I said. I must have misheard her, or missed some steps in her reasoning - she couldn't be suggesting what it sounded like she was suggesting, could she?

"If I can't be there to spank my daughters when they need it, maybe you could handle it."

Ah. I had heard her correctly, then. "Why me?"

"I've seen you often enough to know you're hard-working, intelligent, honest, reliable... you practically dragged Roberta through some group projects. I think her grades would be better if she'd spent more time with you. Maybe that way, she'd have gotten a scholarship, like you did, instead of having her mother pay for everything. And you also have experience handing out firm spankings - Janet has told me how well you've handled her daughters when looking after them."

This was true, but since the twin daughters of my mother's friend Janet were twelve years old, I didn't really see the relevance.

"I want you to keep an eye on them and make sure they don't get up to TOO much mischief. Letting off a bit of steam makes sense - they're away from home for the first time, after all - but there's no excuse for partying during the week and sleeping through classes. Now, of course I don't expect you to perform this service for free. How does three hundred dollars per week sound to you? For each of them, of course."

"You're willing to pay me six hundred dollars per week?" I said incredulously, once again wondering if I'd misunderstood her somehow. I was a poor student. For that price, I'd be willing to show up at their apartment and put both of them to bed with a spanking every day of the week.

"That's my deal. What do you say?" I began to wish that MY mother was a lawyer who could throw around hundred-dollar bills like they were candy. Then again, if she was going to spend that money on people who showed up at my apartment to spank me, maybe having a non-rich mother was the better option.

"Mrs Ca- I mean, Sofia. I want to accept this, but if I show up at their apartment and tell them I'm there to spank them, the best-case scenario is that they laugh and tell me to go away. I'm not strong enough to force them over my knee – certainly not both of them."

"That's easy. Just tell them I won't pay for their college or their apartment if they... Actually, just go to their home, call me, and put the phone on speaker. I'll tell them myself."

A few minutes later, I was ringing the doorbell of the Castillo sisters' apartment, and Roberta opened the door. She was a slim Hispanic woman with short, curly hair, currently dressed in a top and a short skirt. She wasn't wearing makeup - but then, she rarely did. She smiled when she saw me, wondering why I was there, but when I told her I had a message from their mother, and that she wanted to talk to them, there was a nervous look in her eyes.

Teresa was lying on the couch with a magazine, dressed in a t-shirt and shorts. She was half a foot taller than her sister, with long hair and always perfectly made up. Roberta sat down in a bean bag, while I took the comfy chair. I called Mrs Castillo's number, put the phone on speaker, and told her where I was. Mrs Castillo spent the next few minutes lecturing them for their misdeeds, telling them how important college was, how frivolously they were spending their time, and that she wasn't going to spend all that money to have them party their future away.

As I listened to the lecture, I had to admit she had a point. She paid for their college and their apartment, and her biggest requirement was that they did their assignments and were both sober enough to show up to class every day. I didn't think that was too much to ask. Heck, I managed to show up every day and get good grades, and my mother didn't pay for anything. I had to live in a dorm, and my enrolment was scholarship-funded.

The sisters blushed at being scolded, and they kept glancing over at me, both to see my reaction and to wonder why I was there. After a few minutes, Mrs Castillo answered their unspoken question. "Now, I would obviously like to take you both over my knee and spank some sense into you." They flinched, blushed, and stared at me with a 'please-don't-tell-anyone-about-this' look. Their embarrassment was only heightened when she continued: "Now, I don't have time to travel up there every time you need your bottom spanked, so I've convinced Mary to take my place. She's going to provide the discipline you so sorely need. But if either of you give her any trouble, and don't obey her the way you would obey me, I am going to get on a plane and deal with you myself."

Their faces were pale, and they had to swallow a few times before they could respond "Yes, mom."

"I understand from your social media that neither of you went to your morning classes yesterday, due to headaches and stomach aches? Unrelated to the parties the night before, of course. To get this relationship off on a proper footing, she should give you both a spanking for that - right now. Mary, if you require it, Teresa should have a wooden hairbrush among her possessions. That one always gets them kicking. You don't have to use it if you don't want to, of course - I leave it all in your hands. Just make sure you get real tears, real pleas, and that they're really, truly sorry." And with that, she hung up.

No one moved, and the room was entirely silent. After a few seconds, I rose to my feet. "Roberta, go and fetch one of the straight-backed wooden chairs you have in the kitchen. Teresa, I want you to retrieve the brush your mother described."

Roberta gasped. "You're not planning to use that thing on us, Mary?"

"I don't know," I said truthfully. "I want it nearby in case I need it." As they left the room, I realized the shock they had just received. A few minutes ago, they had felt comfortable and safe, many miles away from the strict maternal hand. Suddenly, a teenager they knew had shown up at their door to spank them. I was sympathetic to their plight, but that didn't mean I was going to go easy on them.

When Roberta returned with the chair, she looked pleadingly at me. "You don't have to do it, you know," she said hopefully. "We just wait half an hour or so, then you call her and tell her you've done it. Teresa and I tell her we'll really sorry and will never do it again, and –"

"You want me to lie to your mother?" I said coldly. "You want me to play some charade to deceive her? She has put a lot of trust in me, and I have no intention of betraying that trust." I also had no intention of risking the six hundred dollars a week I had been promised, or possibly ending up over her lap myself - I knew she had no authority to spank me, but I wasn't 100% sure SHE knew that, and that was more important.

I sat down in the chair. Teresa entered the room, holding a thin wooden hairbrush that looked quite old and worn. It had clearly been used plenty of times to spank a bare bottom. I held out my hand, and when she handed it to me, I placed it the nearby living room table. "Come here," I said, crooking my finger at Roberta. "You are about to get a good spanking for getting too drunk to go to classes in the morning. You either stick to partying during the weekend, or leave the party early enough and sober enough to still attend your lectures. Is that understood, young lady?" I used the same scolding tone of voice I normally applied when Janet's twins misbehaved.

"Yes, Miss," she said respectfully. I had expected her to laugh at my efforts to seem strict, but she blushed and stared at the floor, unable to look me in the eyes. Presumably, the knowledge that I'd soon be spanking her bottom had something to do with it.

I placed my hand under her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze. "Oh, and Roberta? Since you tried to get me to lie to your mother, I will DEFINITELY be using the brush on you." She whimpered, but didn't say anything. It was amazing how my popular, confident classmate was suddenly reduced to a meek child.

I placed one arm on her stomach and one on her back, gently guiding her over my knees. I pushed her forward so that her hands reached the floor, but her feet didn't, and her bottom was centred over my lap. I flipped up her short black skirt, revealing a pair of powder-blue panties. I considered saying 'This will hurt me more than it will hurt you, young lady', or some nonsense like that, but I decided to just let my hand do the talking for now.

I quickly smacked my hand down on her left cheek, followed by an equally speedy swat to her right cheek. I spanked hard and fast, and Roberta flinched in surprise when the first smack landed, but after that, she held her head down and stayed quiet. From their conversation, I guessed she was no stranger to her mother's firm palm, so she could probably take quite a bit of punishment.

After a few minutes, I grabbed the waistband of her panties. "Lift your hips," I told her. She hesitated, but obeyed me. I slipped her panties down to her knees, looking at the firm rear exposed to my sight. There were some pink patches here and there, but it was clear I had some way to go. As my hand smacked down, continuing its movement from cheek to cheek, I could see her toes curl - the first sign that she felt the sting.

However, I was in no hurry, and for 600 dollars per week, I intended to do a good job. Eventually, as her cheeks turned red, she started to wriggle over my lap, and I could hear her sniffling. I decided that the warmup was over. Placing my left arm around her waist to hold her in place, I reached out and picked up the old wooden hairbrush.

"Oh no," she pleaded when she felt the cold wood rubbing in circles against her warm cheeks. "No! You don't have to use the brush, Mary. Please, I'm sorry!"

"I told you that I would use it on you for trying to get me to lie to your mother," I said, my voice stricter than before. "Now, you'll learn that I keep my promises."

As the brush crashed down on her defenceless posterior, she squealed and kicked her legs. I had never been spanked with a brush before, and it was clear that it stung more than I had anticipated. However, I didn't see that as a problem - I had been tasked with producing real tears, real pleas, and making the girls feel really, truly sorry, and with this brush, it didn't seem like it would take that long.

Continuing to spank hard and fast, I did my best to cover every inch of her bottom, from the upper parts to the top of her thighs. She was now howling in pain, kicking as if she was riding a bicycle, and tears were rolling down her face.

When I was satisfied that she had been thoroughly punished, I placed the brush down on the table. "You may get up now," I said," but don't rub your bottom. I want you to stand next to the TV with your nose in the corner, your hands on your head, and your rear end on display. Is that understood?"

She tried to respond, but was sobbing too loudly to produce the words. She breathed in to steady herself. "Yes, Miss," she said, and rose. From the way her hands clenched and unclenched, it was clear she desperately wanted to rub, but she quickly made her way into position - she wanted to avoid any further punishment.

I looked over at Teresa, who was sitting on the couch. "And now," I said, giving her my strictest glare, "It's your turn."

Teresa glanced at her sister in the corner, then glared back at me. "If you think I'm going to drop my shorts and panties and bend over the lap of a teenager, you're out of your mind," she said. It was clear that this woman in her twenties had no intention of submitting to my authority.

"OK, that's fine," I said with a shrug.

"It is?" she said suspiciously. Victory had come a little too easily.

"Sure. I'll just call your mother and tell her that you refuse," I said as I reached for my phone.

"No!" she said, jumping to her feet. "Please, not that!"

"In that case, you can take off everything below the waist before going over my lap," I said. It was not unnatural that this woman would chafe at the thought of being punished by a teenager she barely knew, and a guest in her home, but I needed to eliminate that resistance as soon as possible. I needed her to know who was in charge.

Hastily, she removed her slippers and socks, then took off her shorts. Her thin, black thong quickly followed. When I patted my lap, she bent over without further complaints. Her rebellion, it seemed, had been short-lived. "I should probably still tell your mother," I said, gently stroking her quivering rear end. "But instead, I'm just going to use the hairbrush on you as well."

"Thank you," she whispered in relief. Frowning, I wondered what exactly her mother would have done to her that was so much worse than the brush, and made a mental note to never find out.

I started to spank her. Like her sister, Teresa was used to being bent over the lap, so my efforts produced few results at first. However, just like with Roberta, the sting was building up over time, and she was eventually wincing and curling her toes with every spank. When the sting in my hand became too much, I reached out and grabbed the brush. She moaned fearfully as I rubbed the hard back of the hairbrush in circles against her pink skin, but didn't protest.

The first crash of the hard wood on her soft skin caused her to howl, and it took a bit of effort to hold her in place with my arm around her waist. She quickly assured me that she was very sorry and would never misbehave ever again, and that I didn't have to spank her anymore, but I ignored her. I'd heard such things before and knew it was nonsense – though this was the first time I heard them from the lips of a woman in her twenties.

The proud woman was soon reduced to a red-faced, red-bottomed, sobbing little girl. She squealed and squirmed, howled and kicked her legs, pleaded and sobbed, but despite her efforts, every stroke landed where I wanted it to.

Once I was certain that she had been thoroughly punished, I placed the brush back on the table and began to rub her bottom soothingly. After a few minutes, she'd calmed down enough that I could help her to her feet.

"I want you to stand next to your sister," I said. "The same position - nose in the corner, hands on your head. No talking, no rubbing, no peeking, or you'll find yourself back over my knee. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Miss," Teresa said, and quickly obeyed. It was quite the rush to see these two women so eager to obey my commands. I picked up my phone, snapped a picture of the two red bottoms in the corner, and sent it to their mother, with the text "Just finished with their spanking. What's your verdict on my efforts?"

A few seconds later, I received the reply. "Excellent work! I'm setting up the automatic transfer of your fee later today. Keep up the good work."

I sat down in the comfy chair, grinning as I watched the two red bottoms in the corner. Finally, I had found a job I would enjoy!