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.
I found Chloe watching TV on the sofa. She glared at me as I approached. "I don't want to hear another word from you right now," she warned me.
"I'm sorry," I said as I stood before her with my hands behind my back. "I should have sent you a message when I realized I would be late, and I should have made sure my phone was charged. I didn't mean to make you worry, and I didn't mean to ruin our anniversary." She was still glaring at me, just as angry as before. I handed her the hairbrush I'd held behind my back. "I think you should give me a spanking."
For a long time, neither of us moved. Then, she raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?" she said. The anger on her face was now mixed with confusion.
"I've behaved thoughtlessly and spoiled our special evening," I said. "I deserve to be punished. This is the best way I can think of to repair the damage."
She opened her mouth respond, but closed it again. She narrowed her eyes, clearly considering my words, before finally grabbing the hairbrush from my hand. "Well, if that's what you want, I'll oblige you. I'll make sure you NEVER do anything like this ever again!" She patted her lap. "Over my knee."
With butterflies in my stomach, I leaned forward and placed my weight on my girlfriend's lap. Now that she could no longer see my face, a nervous grin spread across my face. This was actually happening! My smart, sexy girlfriend was going to spank my bottom across her lap - and from the look on her face, she wasn't going to be gentle. A dream was finally coming true.
She flipped up my skirt and pulled my panties down to my knees, baring my bottom in a quick, confident manner. I bit my lip and wriggled slightly as she rested her hand on my backside - she'd often touched my naked body, but under very different circumstances. "You've been a rude, inconsiderate girl. I'm going to make sure you regret your actions," she scolded as she rubbed her hand on my pale, cool cheeks. She was a natural at this!
The first smacks caused me to hiss in pain - I'd known it would hurt, but it was still a bit of a surprise when her hand landed. Her hand moved from cheek to cheek, and I grinned to myself as she moved into a rhythm of hard, fast slaps. She approached her task with great skill and enthusiasm, and I was soon kicking my legs and arching my back.
After a few minutes, she rested her hand on my bottom. Thinking it was all over, I felt a twinge of disappointment - I'd expected more. But I had forgotten about the hairbrush until I felt the cool, hard wood rubbing in circles on my warm backside. "That's enough of a warm-up," she said. "I think it's time for your real spanking to begin."
"I'm sorry," I squealed.
"Not as sorry as you're going to be," she scolded as she lifted the brush.
Like I said, I'd given myself a few smacks with the hairbrush when I was alone in the house, and I'd always enjoyed the sting. However, I soon found out that there was a difference between a few smacks on my own bottom in the bathroom, and a blistering over the lap of my angry girlfriend on an already warm bottom. I squirmed, realizing that the fun was certainly over. Before long, tears were rolling down my face, and I was promising to be good and begging her to stop. However, nothing I said or did would even make her slow down or be softer, much less stop.
At one point, I must have reached my hand back, but she just grabbed my wrist and continued whaling away at my poor, burning bottom. She continued to spank until I was sobbing over her lap, unable to make coherent pleas or offer any resistance.
In my sorry state, it took some time before I noticed that she'd stopped spanking me and started to rub gently, whispering soothingly into my ear. Once I'd calmed down some, she lifted me up and hugged me close, and I cried into her shirt, promising to be more considerate from now on.
Eventually, she helped me to my feet. I removed my panties, preferring not to have the cloth against my bruised rear. "I'm so sorry about what I did," I repeated, but she placed a finger on my lips.
"You've been punished. All is forgiven. We'll say no more about it," she said.
We went into the kitchen to heat up he food. "So," she said. "Was a real spanking anything like your fantasies?" She giggled when she saw the shocked expression on my face. "Oh, cutie, did you think I didn't know about it? You're not as subtle as you think, you know." She shook her head. "When you brought me that brush, I didn't want to do it at first – you should not be rewarded for hurting my feelings. But I decided it was a good way to relieve my stress."
"Well, it hurt a lot more than I thought," I admitted, my mind still reeling from the revelation. "I didn't think I would be sobbing like that."
"Did you enjoy it?" she asked. When I shook my head, she grinned. "No? Well, unfortunately for you, I did. You should watch yourself from now on - I won't hesitate to take you back across my knee and use the hairbrush on you the next time you neglect my feelings like that. Though maybe we can have gentler hand-spankings when you're being good."
I wanted to protest, but the look on her face and the sting in my tail convinced me not to. I had a feeling she was eager to have me back over her lap, and I didn't want to give her a reason. My wishes for a strict, loving girlfriend had come true – and it had turned out less fun that I thought it would. One thing was certain; I would do my best to avoid getting a punishment like that ever again.
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