Conrad had now rented the basement flat in the house of the middle-aged accountant Rebecca Trask for a little over a month. He considered himself very fortunate for finding the place; the house was old, but well-maintained, and only a short walk from the university where the nineteen-year-old studied.
Earlier that afternoon, a new chest of drawers had been delivered to the house, and Rebecca had asked the young athlete to help her carry it inside. They were now sitting in her living room chatting about life over a cup of coffee. In the weeks he'd been here, Conrad had found it easy to talk to his new landlady.
During the conversation, Rebecca pulled a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of her purse. She lit a cigarette and took a drag, then raised an eyebrow as she looked at Conrad. "I take it you disapprove of my little habit?"
"What makes you think that?" he replied evenly. "I've said nothing."
"You don't have to. It's written all over your face," she said, smiling.
The teenager shrugged. "Obviously, you can do whatever you want to your own body in your own home. But surely you know it's not good for you – or those around you," he said, managing to resist the urge to cough meaningfully.
She nodded. "I know. I've been trying to quit, but it's very hard. Have you ever smoked?"
"No, but an ex-girlfriend of mine used to."
"Used to? How did she stop?" Rebecca inquired.
"Every time she smoked, I spanked her," he said calmly, showing not the slightest trace of hesitation or embarrassment.
"Really?" she said, looking wide-eyed at him as she tried to process this.
He nodded. "Every time she lit a cigarette, I lit up her butt," he said. "It didn't happen overnight, but with enough encouragement…"
She laughed. "I see! Well, I can imagine that being quite an effective treatment for a young lady! She can protect her lungs and her backside at the same time."
They soon changed the subject. If Conrad noticed that his landlady seemed distracted for the rest of the conversation, as if she was pondering something, he didn't say anything about it.
It was a week later that Rebecca knocked on the door to Conrad's flat. It was a warm spring day, and the teenager was wearing a new t-shirt and an old pair of shorts. His landlady was dressed in a long summer dress. "Mrs Trask! What can I do for you?" he said with a welcoming smile.
"I've told you to call me Rebecca," she chided gently. "Can I come in?"
He stepped aside to let her in, and she quickly scanned the flat as she entered. As she had expected, it was a lot cleaner than most teenagers' living quarters; Conrad had shown himself to be a responsible young man.
They sat down on the couch. Conrad could tell that there was something on her mind, but as she seemed to have trouble putting it into words, he stayed silent to allow her to collect her thoughts. Finally, she seemed to collect herself. "When you started… disciplining your girlfriend, how old were the two of you?"
He cast his mind back. "Well, it was a little over a year ago, so we were both eighteen."
She nodded. "Do you… do you think it would have been effective if she was older?"
He shrugged. "Well, I don't see why not. A spanked bottom will teach a naughty young lady of any age. In fact, she considered herself far too old for a spanking already – which she told me, at length, every time I pulled her over my lap and bared her bottom. I never let that stop me." He looked into her eyes. "Why did you ask? Did you have someone in mind?" There was something in his eyes that suggested to her that he'd guessed what she was thinking of.
She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. "Well, I- I've been trying to quit smoking, as you know. And I was wondering if maybe what I truly need is…" She blushed, avoiding his gaze. " It would probably help me if… if maybe –"
"If I took you over my knee and spanked your bottom every time you smoked?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "Is that what you are proposing, Rebecca?"
Her face turned pale, and her head swam. How could he sit there and talk so calmly about it? Didn't the whole ghastly subject make his stomach turn? Wasn't there something upsetting in his mind about the idea of a grown woman placing herself over the lap of a teenager, a lodger of hers, for a spanking? It seemed revolting, obscene – and probably the very thing she needed to help her quit. "Yes," she mumbled, staring at the floor. "Yes, that's what I'm suggesting."
He placed his hand over hers. "I think this is very brave of you to say this, Rebecca. It shows tremendous courage and strength of character. And yes, I will help you." He smiled, and she blushed at being praised like this by a boy half her age.
He then tutted. "Well, I think we need to start this new arrangement off on the right foot. Stand up, Rebecca."
She stared at him, startled. "W-what? Why?"
"Because I can hardly spank your bottom while you're sitting on it, can I?" he commented drily.
Her hands shot back, protectively clasping the seat of her dress. "Already? But – but I haven't smoked yet! Shouldn't I get a chance to keep my pledge first?"
He shook his head. "What's going to happen if I catch you smoking tomorrow, or the day after? Are you still going to be mentally prepared to submit to my discipline, or are you going to try to back out and say it was all a joke? And if you do, should I let you back out, or am I supposed to wrestle you over my knee by force?" She blushed; there was no doubt in either of their minds that he was fully capable of that. He continued, "Right now, you're in the right headspace to be disciplined, and we need to take advantage of that. Besides, this is far from the first time you've tried to quit smoking, is it? Don't you think you deserve some punishment for that?"
After a few seconds, she nodded. "You're right," she muttered, but she still clutched her rear end as if afraid it would fall off.
He reached around and grabbed her wrists, starting to pull her over his knee. She made no attempt to resist as he guided her over his lap, and she found herself stretched out over his couch, her bottom raised over his knee.
"W-will it hurt?" she whimpered as he patted the seat of her dress.
"I'm not going to lie to you, Rebecca. This is going to be a long, hard spanking. By the time I'm done, you will be crying real tears, and your bottom will be bright red. But I can promise you that there will be no permanent damage."
She settled down, trying to decide whether that had been comforting or not. And how would he know what colour her bottom would be? He wasn't thinking of raising her dress, was he?
Conrad raised his hand, and the first smacks landed on her upturned posterior. Her eyes widened, and she shifted over his lap. This was actually happening. She was bent over her young lodger's lap, having her bottom spanked like she was a naughty little girl. And SHE was the one who'd suggested it!
The first few spanks were light, as Conrad had decided to ease her into it. Gradually, however, the slaps came harder and faster, the loud noise of hand upon flesh ringing out in the quiet room. Suddenly, he grabbed the hem of her dress, flipping it up to reveal her underwear. She buried her face in the cushions, blushing; maybe she'd have worn something else than her grey granny-style panties if she'd known someone would see them.
Conrad brought his palm down hard on her quivering posterior, wasting no time. The sting was growing with every firm slap, and she was now squirming and wincing as his firm palm crashed down on her soft buttocks. "Are you learning your lesson, young lady?" he scolded.
Young lady? She was twice his age! She decided not to bring that up, however. "Ow! This hurts! I'll never smoke again!"
He smiled. "I'm glad to hear that. You are regretting your actions already – though you'll be much more repentant by the time we're done." That sounded ominous. She'd hoped they would be done soon.
His hand moved from cheek to cheek, flattening her ample curves. She could feel tears at the edges of her eyes, and tried to hold them back as much as she could. She did not want to break down in front of him!
When he suddenly pulled her panties down, baring her bottom, she gave a shocked gasp. "Hey! I'm not sure it's appropriate for you to see me in the nude!"
"No, it probably isn't," he said calmly as he continued to spank her.
"Ouch! Then pull my panties back up!"
He sighed. "Rebecca, if you try to order me around, I'm going to take off my belt, and I don't think you want that. Right now, you are in no position to give me orders. I'm going to keep spanking you until you're one sobbing, red-bottomed young lady. Is that clear?"
She gasped as a series of spanks to her sit spots made her howl, and quickly expressed her agreement.
Her bottom was now burning hot, and she kicked her legs and yelped with every firm slap. She squirmed around, desperate to avoid his punishing hand, but the strong young man easily held her in place.
By the time she was allowed to stand up, and he dried her tears and began to comfort her, her bottom burned as if she'd been sitting in a campfire. Tears were rolling down her face, and she didn't think she'd sit for a whole week.
"Oh!" she moaned as she rubbed her sore backside. "I'll never smoke again!"
He chuckled. "I hope not – or your find yourself back over my knee, pleading for mercy."
Rebecca's determination lasted almost two weeks. For the first week or so, she felt no urge to smoke – even the thought of it made her bottom twitch. For a day or two after that, she could look at the cigarette pack without blushing, but managed to resist the urge.
That Friday, however, her willpower ran out. Conrad was at the university today, and it was still an hour until he was meant to be back. The urge to smoke had been growing inside her, and she could no longer resist it. Picking up the pack, she headed out into the garden and lit up; if he smelled smoke inside the house when he returned, he might have some awkward questions for her.
Rebecca was about half-way through her cigarette when a vice-like grip on her ear made her squeal. She looked up to see Conrad, who'd arrived home earlier than she had expected. "Smoking already? Tut, tut."
As he tightened his grip on her earlobe and pulled her inside, she whimpered and protested as quietly as she could, to avoid drawing the attention of anyone who might be within earshot.
When they reached her bedroom, he finally released her ear, as he began to search her nightstand.
"I can't believe you!" she hissed. "What if anyone saw you do that? What Miss Langford will believe if she saw you drag me inside by the ear, I'll never know…"
"She'd probably think you're a naughty young lady in need of some discipline- and she'd be right," he said. Finally finding what he was looking for, he picked up her hairbrush, tapping it against his palm.
Her eyes widened as she regarded the large, old wooden brush. In his hand, it looked surprisingly intimidating. "You are NOT spanking me with that!" she snarled.
"You think so, do you?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "Well, I think I am, and we'll soon see who's right."
She scowled. "It was ONE little butt," she whined.
He unbuttoned her jeans, starting to slide them down. Her panties soon followed. "Well, I'm only going to blister one little butt, so that's OK," he said calmly as he pulled her over his lap.
Rebecca found herself staring at the carpet in her own bedroom, her bare bottom raised to feel the sting of her own hairbrush. She was about to protest at this humiliating treatment, when the first smack of the brush cracked down on her naked posterior, and she needed all the air in her lungs to howl.
Soon, she was squirming over his lap, pleading for him to stop and vowing to never smoke again. This time, she told herself, she would keep her promise!
No comments:
Post a Comment