Third and final part to this story. First part can be found here.
Two weeks ago, I'd been approached in a bar by one of my old classmates, a woman I had not seen for ten years. During our conversation, she admitted that she felt very guilty about once smoking in the classroom, since I'd been given the blame – and the skirt-up, panties-down spanking that came with it. By her request, I had accompanied her back to her apartment, taken her over my knee, and spanked her bare bottom soundly. As I was comforting her afterward, I managed to convince her that her sin was so great that she'd only feel TRULY forgiven if I gave her two more spankings. So, one week later, I returned to Katie's apartment, took her over my knee, and spanked her with her own hairbrush. She looked absolutely adorable squirming and squealing over my knee, especially since I'd made her wear a schoolgirl uniform.
Now, I was walking to her apartment to deliver the third and final spanking. There was something sad about the occasion – Katie was a very cute woman, and I had greatly enjoyed taking her over my knee and spanking her adorable little tushy. And now, it would be the last time.
I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind, forcing myself to smile. That just meant I had to enjoy it while it lasted, didn't it? Savour every second of her spanking; every firm smack I delivered to those cute, quivering cheeks.
I rang the bell, and as she opened the door, my jaw dropped. Katie was wearing a skimpy top and miniskirt, which was an outfit I would never have expected to see her in. It looked more like something I would have worn – in fact, looking at it, I realized it was the exact outfit I'd worn on the day Miss Taylor spanked me in front of the class. She'd even dyed her hair, though for some reason, it was pink. In school, my hair had been purple, and believe me, I would gladly have chosen death over pink. On her, it looked quite good, though.
I grinned at her. "That's a new look for you."
She blushed. "I thought that since I'm being..." she glanced behind me, making sure no one was lurking outside her door. "Punished for what happened to you back then, I thought it would only be fitting that I wore the same outfit." She bit her lip, glancing nervously up at me. "Do you like it? I mean, I could go change if it's..."
"You look lovely," I told her, with a smile that was uncharacteristically warm for me. A relieved grin spread across her face, and she turned to lead me inside. When her back was turned, I took hold of the hem of her skirt, lifting it to reveal a dark thong.
"Vanessa!" she squealed, spinning around and pushing her skirt down with both hands. Her face was redder than her bottom had ever been, and she looked outside to confirm that we were still alone. "Please don't do that when the door is still open! I don't want my neighbours to see me like this."
"I wanted to check that you were wearing the full attire – it wouldn't do to wear your usual cartoon panties with that outfit, would it?" I explained. I could probably have tried to sound sorry, but I didn’t. As I closed the door, I pondered her words. "Does that mean you're fine with me flipping your skirt up now, as long as the door is closed?"
"Of course!" she said, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. "You're here to give me a well-deserved punishment, aren't you? Do whatever you want – I'm entirely in your hands!" I grinned at that. The woman was showing a far greater trust in me than I deserved. She glanced down, one finger nervously twirling her hair. "I have one request, though, if you're willing to grant it."
"What is it?" I asked.
"Um. Could you just use your hand, this time? That hairbrush really hurt." She reached one hand back to gingerly rub the seat of her skirt, grimacing at the memory.
I nodded. "If you're a good girl and do what I tell you, with no delays or backtalk, I will just use my hand. However, if you disobey me..." I meaningfully rested my hand on my belt. Her eyes followed my movements, and a frown appeared on her face as she tried to grasp my meaning. I realized what was happening – last week, I learned that she'd never heard of a hairbrush being used for spanking, so she probably wasn't familiar with a lot of other implements, either. "I'll take off my belt and whip you with it," I explained.
Her eyes grew wide, and she took a step back, both hands protectively clasping her bottom. "I can assure you, that won't be necessary, ma'am," she insisted earnestly. "I promise you I'll do whatever you say!"
I grinned. "Good to hear."
