The Nerd and the Bully (f/f, M/f story)

As I was sitting at my desk grading papers one Friday afternoon, someone knocked on the open door of my office, and a timid voice said "Mister Rackham?"

I looked up from my work to see Nicole, one of my favourite students, standing in the doorway looking at me. Nicole was a lanky girl of 18 with long, brown, curly hair, and large, green eyes. She was biting a fingernail nervously, and looked very uncomfortable. There was something about her manner that suggested she might be in trouble, which surprised me; Nicole was a hard-working student who always had good grades and never broke the rules. "Hello, Nicole. What can I do for you?"

"Can I talk to you about something?"

"Of course!"

She closed the door behind her. I offered her a chair, but she declined it with a grimace. "I don't want to sit down right now." Before I could ask what she meant, she sighed. "Beatrice has been bullying me."

Beatrice was one of the goths – a surly, dark-clad, dark-haired girl who treated homework like suggestions, though she usually kept quiet and didn't disturb the rest of the class. She'd never been the friendliest girl, but she mostly wanted to be left alone, and I'd never heard of her being a bully. I couldn't imagine that Nicole was lying, though.

My confusion must have been apparent on my face, for Nicole glanced outside the door to make sure we were alone, and then suddenly turned her back to me, flipped up her skirt, and lowered her panties. "Look at this, sir!"

Once I got over the surprise of having one of my favourite students suddenly mooning me, I could see that her bottom was bright red, covered in handprints. Someone had clearly given her a good spanking. "And that is Beatrice's handiwork?" I asked.

Nicole nodded, before slipping her panties back on and lowering her skirt. "She came to my room and ordered me to write her assignment for her. When I refused, she dragged me over her knee, pulled my panties down, and –" she sniffled. "Spanked me!"

I quickly offered her a paper tissue, which she gratefully accepted and began to dab her eyes. I also wanted to offer her a comforting hug, but it was not considered acceptable for teachers to hug students.

She told me the rest of her story, and I promised to deal with her bully. As Nicole left my office, there was a relieved smile on her face, though she was also rubbing the seat of her skirt with one hand.

Deciding to handle the matter immediately, I stopped one of the students walking past, asking if she could tell Beatrice to report to my office immediately. Ten minutes later, the short, stocky goth girl knocked on my door. "You wanted to see me?" Unlike most of the students, Beatrice never called me 'sir' or used my last name. I offered her the chair, and she sat down.

"I've heard reports that you've been bullying others. Someone walked past and heard you give one of your fellow students a spanking." This wasn't true, of course, but I wanted to give her the impression that someone other than Nicole had reported her, to reduce the chance of her retaliating against her victim.

Beatrice only glared at me, as if she hoped to scowl me into submission. This was obviously futile.

"Is this true?" I asked. Though I couldn't imagine that Nicole was lying – and I'd already seen her marks – I wanted to give Beatrice a chance to defend herself. I couldn't imagine what she'd say, but I was willing to listen.

Beatrice only shrugged.

"You think it's funny to beat your classmates?"

"It was only a spanking," she muttered.

"Well, we'll see whether you think it's 'only' a spanking once I'm done. Stand up." With a sulk on her face, Beatrice obeyed. My hands went to the front of her dark denim cutoff shorts, and I unbuttoned and unzipped them, before lowering them to her knees, revealing a black thong. I pulled the girl over my lap, and her thong soon joined her shorts around her knees. My hand smacked firmly down on her pale cheeks, and the girl grunted as I began to spank her.

My hand moved swiftly from cheek to cheek, and I spanked hard and fast. The girl bit her lip, doing her best to convince me that it didn't hurt at all, but I wasn't fooled. I knew my hand would last a lot longer than her bottom, and as I continued to thrash her, I was soon proven correct.

My hard hand slammed down on her soft skin. She began to squirm over my lap, and she could no longer hold back the tears. Her bottom was as red as Nicole's had been, but I kept going – I wanted to make sure this never happened again.

"I'm sorry, sir! I'll be good!" she finally pleaded. I smiled; it was the first time I could remember Beatrice calling me 'sir'. I gave her a few more smacks, just to make sure she had learned her lesson, then ended her punishment.

I helped the girl to her feet, where she gingerly rubbed her bare bottom. I offered her a tissue, and once again wanted to roll my eyes at regulations that allowed me to bare a girl's bottom and spank her, but not to give her a hug and comfort her.

Beatrice soon pulled her panties and shorts back up, leaving my office with a promise to behave from now on. I smiled, confident that the matter was solved.


A week later, Nicole was back in my office, telling me that Beatrice had spanked her again.

The boss, the wife, and the secretary (M/FF story)

 It was now one week left until the Friday when Archibald Combs, CEO, would celebrate his fortieth birthday. His wife Camilla had decided to surprise him by having his office decorated with bright banners and confetti before he arrived, and had enlisted the aid of Marsha, his secretary. Camilla invited her over that Friday evening, as Archibald would be out of town all weekend, and they could plan their little surprise in perfect peace.

Marsha Sutton was a slim, short brunette in her late twenties. In secret, she had always felt a little intimidated by her boss' wife; Camilla was a tall, attractive redhead who always dressed her best, and there was something powerful, almost regal, in her bearing. Next to her, Marsha had always felt flat, drab, and boring, but Camilla had always been nice to her and done her best to make her feel comfortable. It seemed she could sense something of the younger woman's nervousness.

They sat in the Combs' living room, and Camilla had just poured her a cup of tea. Over the course of their conversation, Marsha had shared some humorous stories from the office, and they were discussing how they would brighten the office on the morning of the big day, and who would buy which decorations, when Camilla's phone rang. She smiled when she saw it was her husband. Placing the phone on the table, she hit the speaker button, intending to share some of the stories about him she’d just heard.

"Hello, Archie. You know, I've just heard the funniest tale from –"

"Hello, Camilla." He chuckled gently. "You know, I just had an idea. You know that red lingerie you bought recently? I think you should wear it when I spank you on my birthday – I will make your bottom match the wrapping."

Marsha let out a squeal, blushing beet red. She buried her face in her hands, peeking at Camilla through her fingers; this did not sound like a conversation she should be overhearing. He obviously didn’t know his wife was not alone.

Camilla quickly moved her hand towards her phone, about to turn off speaker, but then she glanced at the secretary. She grinned as she studied the red face peeking out at her, and she sat back again, leaving the phone untouched.

"What was that sound?" Archibald asked suspiciously.

"Must have been the kettle," Camilla answered calmly. "I had just sat down for a cup of tea when you called me."

"You just sit down all day, don't you?" he scolded, but in a teasing tone that removed the sting from the words. "That's why I need to spank you; I'm sure you'll get a lot more done when you're too sore to sit."

Camilla pouted. "You know, it's YOUR birthday. Shouldn't YOU be the one getting the spanking for once?"

He tutted. "Now, what do you think the chances of that are, little girl?"

"Not happening?" she guessed.

"Not happening," he confirmed. "Now, any particular implements you'd like to feel caress your curves? I could pick up a new bath brush tomorrow, if you want."

She winced. "Now, dear, you know those sting too much for my delicate derriere. Your belt or my hairbrush will be more than enough – in addition to that delightful hand of yours, of course."

He chuckled again. "As you wish – though I think it will be the belt AND the hairbrush for such a big day. See you on Sunday. I love you."

"Love you too," Camilla said as she hung up the phone. She glanced over at the secretary, who was blushing crimson and seemed about to faint. Camilla smiled at her. "Did you enjoy that little peek into our private life?"

"Of course not!" Marsha insisted, vehemently shaking her head.

"Tut, tut," Camilla said, imitating her husband's tone. "No lies, young lady. I could tell from the light in your eyes as he spoke that this was scratching some itch. You've thought about spankings before, haven't you?"

As usual, Camilla proved to be far more perceptive than Marsha was prepared for. Truth be told, there was something she had always found appealing about the concept of spankings. She’d never acknowledged those feelings, but they’d remained in her subconscious, like a distant ache that never quite left her.

When she didn't respond, Camilla leaned closer. "Haven't you?" Unwilling to trust her voice, Marsha nodded. Camilla chuckled. "I thought so. This is some dark fantasy you haven't dared to explore yet, am I right? There is something hungry in your eyes."

Marsha blushed and looked at the floor, but she nodded again.

Camilla grinned. "You've heard about the spanking I'm going to receive for being such a bad, bad girl," she said. She leaned even closer to the fidgeting secretary, and her next words were delivered in a soft, gentle whisper. "Would you like to watch it?"

The HR meeting (M/F story)

"Hello, Brett. Glad you could come," Cassandra said as she welcomed me into her office and nodded at me to take a seat in the chair opposite her desk. Cassandra was the company's HR manager – a tall, slim redhead in her early thirties who always knew how to put you at ease with a smile. I knew enough about how HR operated not to trust that smile, though. She was neatly dressed in a dark blouse and designer trousers, and had her long hair tied back in a bun.

I sat down, returning her smile. "I always try to make time for important matters, and it sounded serious over the phone. What's this about, Cassandra?"

Sitting behind her desk, Cassandra steepled her fingers as she pondered how to begin the conversation. "I've heard some rumours about you and young Rhonda." She paused, and I sat silently as I waited for her to continue. "Rumours about the way you've been… disciplining her."

"I see," I said calmly. Rhonda was an intern who'd been working for us for about a year now. A bright, bubbly, scatter-brained girl of nineteen who usually did her best, though that was not always good enough.

"And I have to ask you… what are the truth of these rumours?"

I sighed. It was probably best to tell her the truth, I decided. "If you're asking whether I took the girl over my knee and spanked her, the answer is yes. I did."

I was delighted to see a blush appear on the cheeks of the HR manager, who was usually so calm and collected. "Ah. And what made you even think of doing such a thing?"

"She asked me to,” I told her. Cassandra raised an eyebrow, giving me a sceptical look, so I continued: "Rhonda is a decent enough worker, but she had a tendency to show up late a little too often. She also forgot quite a few important tasks I gave her, even when I suggested she should write them down. I was about to recommend to Tracy that we should let her go and find someone else, and Rhonda begged me for another chance. She then suggested an alternative punishment for her misdeeds."

Cassandra was taking notes, but she stared at me as if hanging on every word.

"Just a few months before she began here, Rhonda was at a school where she was subject to corporal punishment. If she arrived late or forgot her assignments, she could be bent over her teacher's lap for a good dose of the slipper. She was also subject to spankings at home." I paused, reflecting. "Actually, from what she's said about the subject, I'm fairly certain she still is."

I was rewarded with another blush, and it took a few seconds before Cassandra could respond. "These punishments… how did they happen? How did you… discipline her? Please be as detailed as you possibly can."

I was a little surprised at this request, but I complied as best as I could. "We would wait until the end of the workday, when I knew we wouldn't be disturbed. We went down into the workshop, where I scolded her for whatever she'd done – or had failed to do. I sat down in one of the old armless office chairs and patted my thigh, which was the signal for her to place herself over my knee."

"How was she attired?" Cassandra asked, leaning forward to make sure she caught every syllable. "Did you pull her panties down?"

" I would lower her jeans before beginning to spank her – as well as her panties," I admitted.

"Did you do that before or after she went over your knee?"

I paused. Why would she ask that? Why would it matter? "I bared her bottom once she was already over my knee."

"Oh," Cassandra muttered. Was it my imagination, or did she look disappointed?

"I spanked her for about fifteen or twenty minutes with my hand – starting off slowly, then gradually smacking harder and faster. She squirmed and squealed over my lap, promising to behave, but I did not let that deter me. When she sounded sufficiently sorry, I placed her in the corner with her hands on her head for another fifteen minutes. Then, she was allowed to get dressed, and I hugged her and told her she was forgiven." I shrugged. "She never resented me for her spankings – in fact, she seemed to view me more favourably. And they definitely had an effect for a few weeks – sometimes longer."

Cassandra stared at me, and there was a strange light in her eyes. "Did you ever spank her with anything else – like your belt, for instance?"

I frowned. "No, just my hand. I never felt I needed anything else."

"Oh." Again that strange hint of disappointment. "Did you ever pull her hair, or drag her to the corner by the ear?"

I was beginning to get the feeling that she was not thinking about her report any longer. These questions seemed to come from another part of her – possibly a more prurient one. "No. She was always very compliant when I decided she needed to be disciplined."

She made another note. "You mentioned scolding her. What did you say to her, and how?"

Another strange question. "Hm. I guess I said, 'You've been a very naughty girl, and it's –"

She cut me off. "Brett, I am absolutely sure you did not say it in that soft, gentle tone of voice. You were much stricter than that, surely? Please, pretend that she's here and needs to be disciplined, and scold her properly. I need to hear your exact words."

I raised an eyebrow, but I did as she said and found the stern tone I used during the punishment sessions. "You have been a very naughty girl, and it's time for a good, hard spanking. Bend over my knee right now."

From the way that Cassandra bit her lip, the far-away look in her eyes, and the quiet sigh she couldn't disguise, I was now absolutely sure that she was not asking these questions for innocent reasons. She was a little too interested in the subject to be thinking about her job right now.

Well, if that was what she wanted, I was willing to oblige her. I leaned forward. "You know, if you're so curious about the spankings I deliver, I'd be quite willing to give you a personal demonstration, Cassandra."

Cassandra turned pale. A squeak escaped her lips, and she dropped her pen to the floor. She hurriedly picked it back up, managing to bang her head on her own desk in the process. She stared down at the sheet of paper again, pretending to take notes. "I-I'm quite sure I don't know what you mean, Brett," she said, trying to hide the blush on her face. "N-not at all."

I smiled. It seemed I had got a little too close for her comfort. "You're sure about that?"

"Y-yes. Now, please leave while I finish this report."

I remained seated, watching her bend over the report as she pretended to ignore my presence. After a minute or so, I spoke up. "You know, it'll probably be a lot easier to write your report if you turn the pen and write with the other end."

She stared at the pen in her hand, before quickly flipping it around. It was absolutely adorable watching the calm, collected woman be so flustered. I rose to my feet, grabbing an empty sheet of paper from her desk. "I'll be going back to work now, but I'll be back when the workday ends." I handed her the paper. "If you write me a request for a good, hard spanking, I promise to do my best to fulfil it." I smiled. "You remember which end of the pen to use?"

I chuckled as I left the room, leaving the stammering woman to continue her report. Or perhaps she’d be writing something else…