Be careful what you wish for (F/F story)

I had always had a fascination with spanking. I loved to read about it, grinned whenever it appeared in a movie or show I was watching, and if anyone made a spanking reference in real life, I would blush and squirm. For years, I had wanted someone to call me a bad girl, take down my shorts and panties, and spank my bare bottom good and hard.

When I first met my girlfriend Chloe, I was attracted to her long, red hair, deep green eyes, and melodious laugh, but it was the fact that she could throw around the word 'spank' so casually that really settled it. When her team won, she might say they spanked the opposition. When she saw a teenager dressed like a tramp, she might nudge me and say that girl needed a good spanking. She didn't do it often, but every time she did, it gave me a small, pleasant jolt.

Obviously, I wanted her to spank me. There was no doubt about that. But as our relationship progressed, I wasn't entirely sure how to broach the subject. I'm sure she would give me a few smacks in bed if I asked her to, but how would she react if I asked her for a good, hard, over-the-knee, bare-bottom spanking? Would she laugh at me? Would she look at me in disgust and call me a pervert? Would she give me a few gentle pats and think it was enough? I didn't want to take the chance, so I never asked. As the months went by, it weighed heavier and heavier on my mind, but I never found a way to introduce the subject, so I smiled and pretended everything was perfect.

Everything changed on our one-year anniversary. Chloe told me she would prepare a romantic meal for us. I headed to work with a grin on my face, but arrived to find the office in chaos. One of our servers had gone down, we had lost a lot of data, and I found myself buried in work to try to retrieve it. Hours went by as we went into damage control. I didn't even notice when my workday ended, or that my phone was out of battery, so preoccupied was I with what I was doing. By the time I finally glanced at a clock, it was 7 PM. I was meant to be home two hours ago.

When I finally made it home, the look that Chloe greeted me with was cold enough to freeze nitrogen. The dinner was cold, the outfit she'd picked out for herself was replaced by a worn t-shirt and sweatpants, and any romantic fun she'd planned was now cancelled. I tried to explain about the disaster at work, but she wouldn't hear it. "You could have sent a message - or at least made sure your phone was charged, so you could answer when I called!" She turned around and strode off, leaving me feeling miserable about what I'd done to her.

I headed to the bathroom to wash off the day's makeup, and my eyes rested on the wooden hairbrush I kept there. Chloe often teased me about having such an old-fashioned brush, and never suspected that I spanked myself with it when I was home alone. As I looked at it, I started to wonder if there was a way out of this situation.

Home to Dinner (M/F story)

Christine grinned to herself as she slipped into her skimpiest skirt, checking that the tight top properly showed off her cleavage. In a few minutes, her husband would come home, and instead of the dinner being on the table, he would find his slim redheaded wife in the bedroom, in some revealing clothes. To show his displeasure with her laziness, he would immediately take her over his knee, bare her bottom, and give her a long, hard spanking, then take her to bed. She grinned; she couldn't wait!

Soon, she heard his car pull into the driveway. His slow, measured footsteps entered the kitchen and living room, and then approached the bedroom. The door opened, and she saw her six-foot-tall, dark-haired, muscular husband with a look of disapproval on his face. She expected it to light up at the sight of her outfit, but he merely raised an eyebrow. "Go wait for me in the living room," he said, and left. She was slightly confused; she'd expected him to throw her over his lap then and there. What was he planning?

She did as he had told her. A few seconds later, he entered with a coil of rope he'd retrieved from the garage. He pointed at the dining table. "Stand at one end, then bend forward over the table." His tone was calm, but authoritative. Slightly uneasy about what exactly he was planning, she obeyed. He cut off a piece of the rope and tied her left foot to one the leg of the dining table, then tied her right foot to another leg. Two more pieces of rope tied each of her hands to the legs near the centre of the large table. He tied the knots so well that she knew there was no way for her to wriggle free, and the rope was thick enough to hold her in place. She was trapped in a humiliating position, with no way to escape, completely at his mercy, and growing wetter every second. He'd never tied her up before. Despite all their spanking play, this was a side of him she'd never seen before!

Tutor's Lesson (F/F story)

"You must be Jenny," I said to the eighteen-year-old girl who'd just rang the doorbell of my apartment. "I'm Samantha. Have you ever had a tutor before?"

The tall, dark-haired girl in the school uniform shook her head. "No. I haven't done so well in Maths as I should expect, and my parents had heard good things about you, which is why they hired you."

I smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, I'm sure we'll get your grades back up," I said as we went inside. I sat down on the couch and waved for her to sit down next to me. "Why don't you open your books and - are you OK?" I asked. She'd winced when she sat down.

"It's nothing," she said hastily. When I continued to stare at her, she sighed. "Like I said, my grades haven't been as good as they should have been. My parents said I needed a tutor, I disagreed, and I used some words I shouldn't have, so..."

"They spanked you!?" I said, shocked. I'd had something of an interest in the subject for years. I'd never been spanked myself, but the thought that this eighteen-year-old was still being placed across the parental lap brought a blush to my cheeks. At 27, I could barely remember what it was like to be a teenager, but being punished like that by my parents would have probably made me so embarrassed I'd want to die. And from the expression on Jenny's face, she wanted me to change the subject.

As she opened the book, we started going through the bits she struggled with, but I found my thoughts drifting back to the image of Jenny being bent over someone's lap, squirming and squealing as her rear was reddened.

Skirt trouble (M/FF story)

It was two weeks since Helen and her boyfriend Brad had split up. Still getting used to living alone again, she'd received an invitation from her childhood friend Anne to stay a week or two with her. Anne lived out in the country with her boyfriend Darren, and felt that the change of scenery would be the perfect cure for Helen's mood. Helen had agreed.

She'd arrived Friday evening, and they'd enjoyed a nice dinner as she was introduced to Anne's boyfriend. Darren was a charming, handsome man who seemed to infect others with his grin, and Anne was also a real joy to be around, so Helen could feel her mood improving already.

The following morning, Darren was baking cupcakes while the women sat in the living room, chatting over a cup of coffee. Anne suggested that the two of them should go for a walk in the nearby woods. "Let's just grab a couple cupcakes and go."

"No touching the cupcakes!" Darren said, affecting a strict tone as he wagged his finger at them. "Those are for after dinner. I haven't even put the glazing on them yet."

Anne poked her tongue at him, then went to fetch a bottle of water, in case they were in the forest longer than expected – she tended to worry too much. As Helen rose, she accidentally spilled some of the coffee on her jeans. Fortunately, she wasn't burnt, but as she watched the growing dark patch, she had no desire to go walk around in trousers with a wet, dirty stain on them. Realizing that she hadn't brought anything else fit for a trip through the forest, she went to Anne's wardrobe and grabbed one of her dark red skirts - the two were similar in size and had borrowed clothes from each other before.

Helen headed outside, where she expected to find Anne waiting for her, but she was nowhere to be seen. As she walked past the kitchen, the smell of freshly bakes cupcakes drew her in - Darren had left them to cool on the kitchen counter, near the open window. Drawn by the sweet smell, she quickly leaned in to grab a couple. They could enjoy them on their walk, and he'd never notice that two were missing.

While she was bent over the windowsill with her top half inside the kitchen, she suddenly felt a sharp smack on her skirt-clad rear end, and Darren's voice whispered teasingly: "Stealing cupcakes after being warned? Tsk tsk! I didn't think you'd need another spanking so soon."