In her friends' house (M/F story)

Waking up, I gasped as I sat up in the bed. My tank top and pyjamas shorts were drenched in sweat, and my heart was trying to beat its way through my chest, but the details of my nightmare were already getting foggy, leaving me with nothing but a strong sense of unease.

My frightened mind was now further unsettled by the unfamiliar surroundings, and in my tired state, it took a few moments before I remembered that I had gone out of town to visit my friends Jessica and Mark. This wasn't my own bedroom, with its posters and knick-knacks; it was their clean, almost-empty guest bedroom.

I wondered if I had screamed during my nightmare, and whether I'd woken them up. I tiptoed into the hall, placing my ear against the door of their bedroom, where I could hear them both snoring peacefully. I glanced at the watch – it was half past seven in the morning, so they'd probably sleep for another hour or two.

Too stressed to go back to sleep, I decided to head downstairs to the living room and watch TV until they woke up. I zapped from channel to channel, trying to find something worth watching, but in vain. I considered fetching my laptop and surfing the web for a while, but my head was still too tired.

I was unsettled from the nightmare, I was tired, I was stressed, and I suddenly felt a little bit homesick. What I needed most was some sort of relief. I pondered going back up to the bedroom and masturbating, but I was sitting on a very comfortable couch. Ah, life's hard dilemmas.

After a few seconds, a naughty thought entered my head. Why should I go upstairs? Couldn't I just rub my nub right here, in my friends' living room?

The more I thought about it, the more appealing it seemed. There was something so transgressive, so DIRTY about masturbating in a living room that wasn't my own. My friends were sleeping, but they could wake up and come downstairs any minute, couldn't they? They could catch me on their couch, with my fingers inside myself, being a naughty girl. How humiliating that thought was! Now, of course, they were fast asleep, and wouldn't wake up for at least an hour. Or would they? They didn't usually wake up early, but it wasn't out of the question. It felt so risky and embarrassing.

Making my mind up, I reached for the roll of paper towels that Jessica kept near their couch in case she spilled wine – I had no intention of leaving any strange stains on their furniture. Placing a thick layer of paper below myself to catch any escaping moistness, I lowered my shorts, pulled my panties to the side, and began to rub myself.

Even in my sleep-addled state, my experienced fingers knew just what to do, and in a few minutes, I reached the edge. I grinned to myself as I again thought about how dirty I was being – pleasuring myself in someone else's house, while they were sleeping nearby.

It was only then, almost at the point of orgasm, that my drowsy mind remembered that I hadn't checked whether the curtains were drawn.

The cyclist and the farmer (M/F story)

May looked around at the unfamiliar landscape and had to admit that she was lost.

It was a warm and beautiful day, and she'd gone for a long bike ride in the countryside. She'd decided to explore some paths she'd never travelled before, and had gone further than intended. She had a nagging feeling that she'd taken the wrong turn at the last crossroads, but she didn't know which one was the correct one.

There was a river on one side, and a farmer's field on the other. Across the field, she suddenly spotted a road she thought she recognized, and had a feeling it would be easy to get home from there, but she had no idea which road would take her there. She sighed, frustrated at being so close to a path home, yet so far, when she realized that the plants were small enough that she could probably cycle across. She knew farmers didn't like it when you went through their fields, but she was too tired and too lost to care.

As she began to cycle, she knew that the trip would take her close to the farmhouse. She recognized it as old Mr. Bannerman's place. He'd retired a year or two ago, and she'd heard some out-of-towner she'd never met had bought it. As she neared the house, a man that she presumed was the new farmer came running out. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with sandy hair. She guessed him to be in his mid-thirties; about a decade older than herself.

His handsome face and muscular build made her wish that she could have met him at a party or at a bar - she'd be wearing her favourite little black dress, with her hair and makeup perfectly done, giving him a coy smile from across the room. He would stare at her, grinning back at her and wondering who the stunning beauty was. In reality, she was dirty, clad in a sweat-stained exercise outfit, and trespassing on his land, and the look he gave her was anything but friendly.

"What do you think you're doing!?" he shouted. "Get out of the field. You're killing my crops, you daft bint!"

May had intended to apologize for her actions, but being shouted at and insulted didn't make her disposed to be friendly. She knew she was in the wrong, but had no intention of admitting it. "I was lost and needed a shortcut," she snapped. "I'll be off your lands in a few minutes."

"You didn't have to ride straight over my crop. There are paths you could have taken," he said with a scowl. "And snapping at me? If you were a few years younger, I'd take you across my knee and tan your hide for this stupid stunt."

She gave him an indignant glare, blushing furiously at this assault on her pride. Too angry for words, she tried to spit at him, but it landed several feet short of the mark. The look he cast in her direction convinced her to get out of there before he decided she wasn't too old for a spanking after all, so she quickly cycled away.

The Maid's Punishment (M/F story)

"Lucy?" Mr Bowman looked at his maid with a disapproving expression. "Into my study. We need to have a chat about your recent work." Mr Bowman was an athletic, dark-haired man in his late thirties, almost always clad in an expensive suit. He was considered quite attractive, which was enhanced by the fact that he was the owner of a beautiful mansion and a large fortune – both inherited.

"Yes, Mr Bowman," Lucy said meekly. Her curly red hair hanging to her shoulders, the 28-year-old woman was dressed in a classic maid's uniform which hid her ample curves. She had a face that was often described as 'cute', and rarely as 'beautiful'. One her employer's back was turned, the maid licked her lips, and an eager grin spread across her face. She had a feeling that she knew what this 'chat' would entail, and she was already looking forward to it.

Straightening the skirt of her uniform, she eventually managed to assume an expression of contrition. He was going to punish her, after all, and it wouldn't do to have him know just how much she was enjoying it.

When Lucy had started to work as a maid for Mr Bowman several months ago, there had been some issues – she overslept a few times, she didn't always show the respect he felt he was due, and her work really wasn't up to his standards. He'd called her into his study and told her he'd dock her pay – and that he'd fire her if she didn't improve. She'd turned pale and begged him to reconsider, but he'd called her lazy and undisciplined. That's when creativity struck her.

Lucy told him that her parents had spanked her until the day she moved out, and that the new-found lack of consequences clearly hadn't been good for her. Maybe instead of docking her pay, her employer could provide the discipline she needed? Mr Bowman had been very doubtful, but had eventually agreed to give it a try. He'd patted his thigh, and with a show of great reluctance and embarrassment, she'd bent over his lap.

However, once she was in position and he could no longer see her expression, she allowed the grin that had been trying to fight its way to the surface, to spread across her face. She was over the knee of a rich, handsome bachelor, who was about to give her a sound spanking. Could this get any better? This was fulfilling every fantasy she'd had for years.

Jane's first spanking (M/F story)

Jane glanced around as she sat on the comfortable leather sofa. The house was small, but very stylishly decorated. Sitting opposite her in a comfy chair was the owner of the house; a tall, steel-blond man with a confident, comfortable air. He was in his forties, but his body was in a shape that many younger men would envy him. His dark trousers and expensive shirt enhanced the image projected by the house – that of a man of wealth and taste. Jane felt slightly underdressed in her old t-shirt and shorts, and wondered if she should have worn a dress, or perhaps one of her nicer skirts.

She had declined his offer of wine or beer, but had accepted a glass of orange juice. She took a sip, and the tall, slim woman in her late twenties, whose long, red hair was gathered in a ponytail, finally summoned the courage to say the words on her mind. "Like I said on the phone, I've heard that you're a man that can give me the spanking I deserve."

"Indeed?" Roger said, raising the glass of cognac to his lips. From the look in his eyes, she knew that he was studying her just as much as she was examining him. "And who told you about my… services?"

Broken promise (M/F story)

The college student buried herself deeper under the blanket on the couch, pulling it over her head. "I don't want to go to the party on Friday," she said with a pout.

"Come on, Sydney, this will be fun," Gabriel said as he sat down on the couch next to his friend.

"I don't know anyone who'll be there," she complained.

"I'll be there," he pointed out. "And besides, that's the point – meeting new people. We've been at this college for a month now, and you still haven't really talked to anyone. And if you keep shutting yourself up in your room, you won't."

"But they'll make fun of me," she grumbled.

He raised an eyebrow. "Is this the whole 'nerd' thing again?" He sighed. "We're not in high school anymore. No one's going to tease you for that – and if they do, I'm going to have a talk with them." Gabriel was slightly over six foot, with a figure that clearly showed that he was an active sportsman. People rarely gave him trouble, and so far, no one had ever done it twice.

He was the kindest, most considerate person that she knew, and Sydney had to admit that he was also quite good-looking. Over the past year or so, she'd developed strong feelings for her old friend, but was too shy to say it out loud, and so far, he hadn't picked up on any of her hints. Sydney was a timid, petite nerd who avoided exercise and sunshine as much as possible. In her opinion, her hair was too red, she had too many freckles, and she lacked the curves, dress sense, and confidence that guys like Gabriel were probably looking for. If she could stay in a corner of the room and avoid attention, that was fine with her.

He pulled the blanket off her head, gently tussling her hair. She hated it when someone did that, but she didn't mind when it was him. "And besides, do you think you'll be the only nerd at this party? This is college, after all. If there aren't at least a few nerd girls here, I'll eat my hat."

"You don't have a hat," she pointed out.

He nodded. "That's true. Is there anything in particular you'd like me to eat, then?"

"Me," she whispered to herself, blushing.