The bank loan 1 (M/F story)

The young lady behind the desk tapped on her keyboard for a minute or two, before shaking her head. "I'm sorry, Mister Pierce. I'm afraid we have no record of you filling out these forms."

I sighed, rubbing my temple. "But I handed them to you just last week! I sat here, in this room, right in front of you, filling them out, before handing them to you! You assured me that you'd take care of it!"

"Oh." She frowned. "Are you sure? I don't remember anything like that."

I felt like screaming. Dealing with the bank seemed to require a lot more patience than I possessed.

My one-man company, Pierce's Punishment Paddles, sold spanking paddles for adult play and punishment. Sales had been a lot better than I'd expected, and I wanted a small loan to expand. I'd gone to the bank, where Lucy had been assigned to handle my case. She assured me that it would be a quick and easy process.

One month later, I wondered what she'd been smoking that day. This wasn't the first time that Lucy lost my paperwork, and she'd also misunderstood or forgotten several things I'd told her. Sometimes, she still had the forms I'd filled out – she'd just forgotten to send them in. I was beginning to wonder if her name was short for "Lucifer", and she was sent here to Earth to torment me.

"I'll print the forms out for you," she said, clicking away. The printer on the other side of the room began to whirr, and she walked over to fetch the papers. As she bent over the printer, her pencil skirt tightened nicely over a lovely rear end. The sight of that beautiful backside was the only highlight of my visits to the bank. Not for the first time, I could feel my palm itch, and I longed to take her over my knee and spank her soundly for wasting my time, but I managed to resist the urge.

She handed me the forms, as well as a pen, and I began to fill them out yet again. It only took a few minutes – I had some experience at it at this point – and handed them back. She returned to her computer. "Now, I need to see your business licence."

I frowned. "I brought my business licence to you two weeks ago. You scanned it, remember?"

She looked at her screen again, then at me, then back at her screen, with a confused expression. "Are you sure?"

I sighed. "You know what? Forget it." I rose to my feet. "There are other banks in this town. I'm sure at least one of them knows how to file paperwork."

I turned to leave, but as I reached the door, she jumped to her feet. "Mister Pierce, wait!" With my hand on the doorhandle, I looked over my shoulder at her, and she continued: "I am very sorry for losing your paperwork. It was very unprofessional of me, and I can only apologise." She licked her lips. "I admit I've been careless lately, but I'm afraid I can be a bit undisciplined in my work." There was the merest ghost of a smile on her face. "I'd like to keep you as a client. Is there another way we can resolve this? I'm sure you can think of something to help me focus on my work…"

I stared at her for almost a minute, trying to process what she'd just said, before exclaiming "What the hell is wrong with you!?"

She took a step back, her face pale. "I was only –"

I turned towards her, glaring sternly. "Lucy, have you been deliberately wasting my time for the last month in the hope that I would take you over my knee and spank you?"

"Um." She squirmed, biting her lip. "No comment?"

The drunken coworker (M/F story)

Caden glanced at his watch. It was now almost three in the morning, and he had a feeling that his first party with his new coworkers was drawing to a close. They'd been at the bar until midnight, and then Beverly had suggested that they should all go back to her flat. Half a dozen of them had agreed.

Beverly was a young, petite brunette with big doe eyes and a button nose. They'd gone straight to the bar after leaving the office, so she was wearing a white long-sleeved shirt and a black pencil skirt – or at least that's what she'd been wearing the last time he looked. As she suddenly jumped up on the living room table to dance along to the music, a bottle of vodka in one hand, he noticed that the skirt seemed to have gone missing. She did not let this fact prevent her from shaking her tushy, however.

Caden glanced around to see if any of his female colleagues wanted to aid the drunk young lady, but Jessica was playing on her phone, and it sounded like Natasha was vomiting in the bathroom. Caden tried to be a gentleman and look away, but found his gaze drawn to the twerking backside, barely covered by a pair of black satin panties. Beverly had a round, full bottom that was lovely to look at.

When the song ended, Beverly slowly stepped off the table and down to the floor. She glanced around, spotted Caden, and surprised him by sitting down on his lap. "Caden! How's going?" she slurred, almost managing to look him in the eye. "Good? You good? Good! That's good."

"Are you OK?" he said, shifting uncomfortably. He was not used to having a half-naked coworker in his lap, and as she wriggled her panty-clad rear end on his groin, he could feel himself harden. He wondered if she was too drunk to notice – and whether she'd mind if she did.

"I'm gait! Geet. Greet? Great!" she said. "Haven't dunk vodka before. Good. V' good."

"I think you've had enough," he told her gently.

She looked quizzically at him, before putting the bottle to her ear and shaking it. "Nah. Not empty yet. Fix that, though." She lifted the bottle, managing to put it to her lips on the fourth attempt.

He grabbed the bottle, gently pulling it away from her. "You've had enough, Beverly," he repeated. "I think you should stop drinking now."

She looked at him, pouting. "Or what? Gonna spank me?"

He stared at her. "What?"

"Gonna spank me if keep drink'n?" she slurred.

"No! Of course not," he assured her.

"Oh." She frowned. "What if I ask nicely? Say please and tank you and all'at?"

He stared at her, not sure what to say.

"Cute guy, Caden. Thought that since met you. Big lad too." She wriggled some more, grinning as she pressed her bottom against his growing erection. "More ways than one."

Accused of shoplifting (M/F story)

In most of my stories, either the spankings are deserved, or the spankee wants them (or both). A spankee of my acquaintance wanted me to write a story where an innocent girl is humiliated and spanked. A bit of warning: this story is darker than the others I've written, and there is no retribution.

 

Natalie and some of her classmates from the college went to the mall after class one Friday afternoon. They were at a clothes store, where Natalie admired a skirt that she could almost afford, and she was now planning to find a café. As she moved through the alarm gates at the store's exit, the alarm suddenly went off. She looked around in confusion – what had set it off?

A nearby door slammed open. Out stepped a tall, strong, broad-shouldered man in the uniform of a security guard – black trousers and a blue shirt with long sleeves. A man that was this tall and strong could seem scary even with a friendly smile on his face, but when he scowled aggressively, like right now, he was truly frightening. He glared at Natalie. "Hey! Trying to sneak away, are you? Little thief!"

Before Natalie could respond, he'd grabbed her shoulder and pushed her against the wall. "Let's see if we find the stolen goods, shall we?" The guard started to frisk her, but to her horror he began by placing his hands on her breasts.

"Hey! W-what are you doing?" she gasped. She tried to squirm away, but he held her in place. It was embarrassing enough that the alarm had gone off as she exited the store – probably a technical error, she assumed – and it wasn't entirely unreasonable for him to search her, but she could see no reason for him to grope her like this. The fact that he was doing it in public made it even worse.

"Bad little girls like you almost always place the loot in your bra, because you think we won't dare to search there. But that's where you're wrong!" he responded with a sadistic grin. He continued to paw at her chest, and she didn't dare protest.

He then placed both hands on her bottom and squeezed. "Nothing in the bra, but let's see if you have anything in your back pockets." She shrank and wished she could disappear – it was so humiliating to be fondled in this manner – but she didn't have the courage to speak up to the large, aggressive man. She looked around for help and could see several of the girls from class standing nearby and staring at her. Some gave her looks of sympathy, some stared in disbelief, and some were openly giggling, but none seemed to be willing to come to her rescue.

After he'd groped her bottom for a while, a triumphant expression suddenly appeared on his face. He stuck his hand into one of the pockets, and when he pulled it out, he was holding a small pearl necklace. "What do you say to this?" he said, holding it up before Natalie.

She stared at the necklace as if she'd never seen it before – which was completely true. "T-that's not mine!" she exclaimed.

He raised an eyebrow. "So you admit to stealing it? A confession already!"

She shook her head frantically. "No, that's not what I meant! I –"

But before she could say another word, he grabbed her ear and dragged her into the back room. She howled in pain and tried to wriggle free, but that only made it hurt more, so she followed him as quickly as she could. When they were in the back room, he locked the door behind them and placed the key in a pocket. He finally let go of her, and she whimpered as she rubbed her sore ear.

She looked around in the small room. It contained a low desk with a PC and some sheets of paper on it, two chairs, and a small filing cabinet; that was all. "Sit down," he commanded, nodding to one of the chairs, and then sat down in the other and began to fill out a form.