"Vanessa? It IS you, isn't? it?” I looked up to see that the little blonde in the white top and pink shorts who had been looking at me for the last few minutes, had approached my table in the bar. As a six-foot woman with purple hair and a lot of tattoos, I'm used to people staring, but I now realized that this woman knew me.
And now that she had come closer, and I'd heard her voice, I recognized her as well. "Katie? I haven't seen you since high school! Wow, it's been ten years already, hasn't it?"
I gave her some polite phrases in my most monotonous voice, trying to make it clear that I wasn't really interested in a conversation with her. The two of us had never been friends, despite being classmates since primary school; she'd been a popular, fashion-obsessed straight-A student, while I was a punk troublemaker, and not excessively straight. I didn't particularly care how, what, or who she was doing, and if given a choice, I would prefer to be alone with my beer.
Katie, however, had never been good at picking up cues, so she sat down at my table. She managed to chat about the old days without much input from me, though she seemed a bit distracted, as if there was something on her mind. After a few minutes, a blush spread across her cheeks, and she went quiet as if gathering her thoughts, which seemingly took some effort. After a few seconds of silence – not nearly long enough in my view – she took a deep breath and spoke. "Do you remember the cigarette pack?"
I didn't have to ask her what she was referring to. Back in our school days, someone had been smoking in the classroom during lunch one day, dropping the cigarette butts out the window. A terrible lack of subtlety, I’m sure you’ll agree. We never knew who it was, but since I was the class troublemaker, the teacher blamed me. Despite protesting my innocence, Miss Taylor dragged me to the front of the class and pulled me over her knee. She then raised my miniskirt, lowered my thong, and spanked my bare bottom in front of the class.
It had been truly awful, feeling her hand on my poor rear, biting my lip to avoid crying out as the entire class watched my humiliation. After what seemed like an eternity over her knee, I'd been forced to stand in the corner with my hands on my head and my bare bottom on display, listening to the giggles and muttered comments of the class. It wasn't the worst spanking I ever got, but the humiliating circumstances and the fact that I didn't deserve it made it quite memorable.
I looked at Katie. "Sure, I remember the cigarette pack. Why?"
She bit her lip, staring at the floor to avoid meeting my eyes. "It was mine. I was the one who was smoking."
I raised an eyebrow. "You? Really?" No wonder Miss Taylor never caught the culprit – Katie was the last person I would have suspected. Little Miss Perfect didn’t do that sort of thing.
Katie fidgeted in the chair. "I kept quiet when it was found, hoping to avoid trouble. She couldn’t punish me if she didn’t know who it was, could she? When Miss Taylor blamed you instead, I really wanted to confess and save you, but I didn't dare – being spanked on the bare bottom in front of the whole class sounded so humiliating, you know?"
"It was," I replied drily.
She grimaced at her faux pas. "Right. Sorry. I wasn't – I didn't think."
It was a bit of a sore point, especially knowing that she could have saved me all the pain and humiliation, but she seemed so upset that I was feeling uncharacteristically merciful. "It's OK. It was a long time ago," I said with a shrug as I leaned back in my chair.
"But it's not OK," she insisted. "You were unfairly punished for MY misdeeds. I should have been brave enough to confess back then. I need to take responsibility for that."
I shook my head. "That was years ago. What do you want me to do about it now?" I said as I sipped my beer. "Take you over my knee and spank you?"
She shot me a relieved smile. "Oh, would you? That would be great."
I almost spit my drink across the table, but managed to keep it in – the beer I drink is far from cheap, and I had no desire to waste a single drop of it. I stared at the little blonde woman in the bright pink shorts, looking for some indication that she was joking, but came up empty. Katie had never been much of a joker.
I was about to tell her to have her head examined, but the more I thought about it, the more I liked the suggestion. Like I've already mentioned, this was not one of my happiest memories – in fact, you could consider it a wound that had never truly healed. I now had a chance to get back at the woman responsible for my pain. A woman that had also been a minor annoyance for several years in school. "If that's what you want, I have no problem taking you over my knee and giving you what you deserve," I assured her.
A few minutes later, I'd finished my beer and was following her back to her apartment. My old classmate had just asked me to spank her for something she’d done as a teenager, and I'd agreed. This was surreal. Then again, the girl had gotten me into a lot of trouble, and I was still upset about the public spanking I didn't deserve. Besides, as I watched the seat of her tight little shorts swaying as she walked ahead of me, I decided that she'd look quite good squirming over my knee.
Her apartment was nicely decorated, and the furniture clearly showed that she didn't lack money, but it was a little too pink and girly for my taste – much like its owner.
"So, how do we do this?" she said, sounding slightly nervous that her request was about to be fulfilled.
"Have you ever been spanked before?" I asked.
She shook her head. "My parents didn't believe in it."
I tutted. "Well, it's a good thing I'm here to fix that, then." I sat down on her brightly-coloured, comfortable couch, calling her toward me with a crooked finger. She approached me and was about to place herself over my lap, but I stopped her. "There is something we need to fix first."
"What?" she asked, confused.
My hands moved to the front of her shorts, and I slowly unbuttoned and unzipped them as I spoke. "You're a little overdressed for a good spanking, young lady," I told her as I lowered her shorts to her knees, inch by inch. She bit her lip, fidgeting in embarrassment, but didn't protest. She was wearing a pair of sickeningly cute pink panties with a cartoon duck on them.
As I grabbed the waistband of her panties, she blushed. "Couldn't I keep those on? You could spank me over my panties, couldn't you?"
I frowned. "Did Miss Taylor let me keep my underwear when she spanked me in front of all my classmates?"
She grimaced. "I guess not..."
"Well, then." I whisked her panties down to her knees, patting my lap. Blushing a fiery red at being naked before me, Katie leaned forward, placing her weight on my lap. As I had suspected, the little woman looked adorable over my knee, with her bare little bottom quivering up at me, waiting for me to begin. I rubbed my hand in circles on her seat, enjoying the goosebumps forming under my hand. This was a wonderful opportunity, and I had no intention of rushing the experience.
I lifted my hand and delivered a set of slow, firm smacks. Katie let out a squeak, straightening her legs in surprise. "Oh! That stings!" she announced.
"It's a spanking, dear. It's supposed to," I said patiently. "Now lie down and take your medicine, little girl." I continued to spank her, my hand moving from cheek to cheek as I slowly warmed her bottom. Before long, she was squirming around on my lap, letting out little yelps and squeals every time my palm struck her backside. It was clear that this woman was not used to being spanked, and she had no intention of putting on a brave face.
I grinned as I delivered a set of particularly hard set of spanks to her sit spots, causing her to kick her legs and howl – a trick I’d learned over my aunt’s knee. This was amazing! Having Katie over my lap and under my control, holding her in place as I soundly smacked her seat, watching her squeal and squirm... I was in heaven. And she'd even asked me to do this!
"I hope you're thinking about the pain and humiliation you caused me with your cowardice, young lady," I lectured sternly. "I want you to learn a good lesson from this."
"Ouch! Yes, I'm sorry! I should have done better. Please don't – eek! Please don't spank so hard!" She was starting to sound a little desperate.
I tutted. "You deserve a good, hard spanking, wouldn't you agree? One that paints your bottom bright red – it's barely pink now!" This was true. Despite her theatrics, her backside was still far from the crimson colour I intended to achieve.
"Couldn't you be a little gentler, at least?" she pleaded. But instead of letting up, I doubled down, spanking harder and faster than before. Soon, her pleas for mercy were replaced with incoherent howling and sobbing, and she was bucking around so much I had to wrap my arm around her waist to keep her in place. Despite her best efforts to get away, every smack landed on her clenched buttocks.
By the time I decided she'd had enough, she was lying limply across my lap, tears rolling down her cheeks. I helped her up and gathered her in a hug, letting her sit on my lap as I rubbed her back and let her cry into my shoulder. "Shhh. It's OK, little one. You can relax now," I cooed, comforting her as best I could.
After a few minutes, she'd calmed down enough to talk. "So, it's over now?” she whispered. “I'm forgiven?"
I thought about it. Having her over my lap was quite fun – for me, at least – and I really didn't want it to stop now, but I also didn't think she could take any more today. "Oh, but I got a spanking in public for something I didn't do – you got a spanking in private from me for something you actually did, right? That's not the same. It wouldn't be fair to stop now, would it?"
She frowned. It was clear that she wanted to disagree with my reasoning, and to avoid having her bottom smacked some more, but she was unable to find a good argument.
I rubbed my chin as if deep in thought. "Maybe you should get another spanking in front of people? Should we call some of your friends, perhaps?" She turned, pale, her eyes wide as saucers, and was visibly trembling. "Or maybe we should get some of your coworkers in, so they could watch you get your bare bottom spanked."
She emphatically shook her head, making it clear she liked this idea even less than the last one. "Please, Vanessa. That would be too embarrassing. I would just die."
"But that's what happened to me. It would be fair, wouldn't it?" She grimaced, still trying to find a way to argue her way out of the predicament. I smiled. "Or I could come over and spank you the next two Saturdays – just the two of us. With three sound, hard bare-bottom spankings, I'm sure you'll feel properly punished for what you did back then. That would give you a clean conscience, wouldn't it?"
She thought about it, then nodded slowly. "I guess. That sounds fair, yeah. You would really do that for me?" she said dubiously.
I smiled reassuringly. "Oh, certainly. Anything for you, dear Katie."
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