When I first had the idea for last week's story about a woman that spanks her dorm-mate for being messy, I couldn't decide whether the spankee should be into it or not. In the end, I decided to write both. This is the second one – different in many ways, but based on the same premise. I hope you enjoy it.
"When are you finally going to start vacuuming?" I said sternly as I glared down at my flatmate Luanna, who was sitting on the sofa and staring at her phone. We'd been living together for about a month, but it was beginning to feel like it had lasted a decade.
"I told you, I'll get to it, Joelle. Don't nag me. You're sounding like my mother," Luanna said, rolling her eyes in a way that would have been annoying for a teenager – and it didn't get any less infuriating when coming from a 25-year-old woman.
Luanna had only recently moved out of her parental home, where her mother had done almost all of the housework. As such, I now found myself with a flatmate who didn't clean up after herself, had never done her own laundry, and considered boiling an egg to be an impossible culinary challenge. She also seemed to struggle with the concept that the hot water tank in our flat was smaller than the one in her mother's large house. Every time I found myself forced to take a cold shower in the morning, I could feel my palm itch, longing to give Luanna the one thing her mother had never been considerate enough to give her: a long, hard spanking on the bare bottom.
And if there was one word that described Luanna, besides "brat", it would probably be "spankable." She was a tall brunette with a firm, well-shaped backside that she loved to show off in tight jeans, and there was something about her pouty expression that made me long to see her standing in the corner with those jeans pooled around her feet and her red bottom on display. She'd look even cuter like that, I decided.
It would be one thing if she was eager to learn some of the things her mother had failed to impart, finally ready to grow up, but that was sadly not the case. When I offered to teach her how to do something, or help her with a task, she quickly tried to sneak away and leave it to me.
Deciding I had better things to do with my day than stand there and watch my flatmate not doing housework, I headed out. I was picking up a parcel from the post office, and we needed groceries. I'd previously tried to make Luanna do the shopping, but either she'd postpone it until the shops were closed, or she'd somehow convince herself that buying a latte at Starbucks counted as getting milk.
The line at the post office was even worse than I had expected, and when I finally returned to the flat, more than two hours had passed. Before entering, I wondered whether Luanna had moved a finger while I was away, and soon discovered that she had – she hadn't done any vacuuming, but she'd made herself a sandwich. I could tell, because there was an assortment of spreads standing on the kitchen counter, and a dirty plate on the coffee table with a half-eaten sandwich lying next to it. I sighed – never mind cleaning up after herself, the girl couldn't even place the sandwich back on the plate after taking a bite.
Luanna was still staring at her phone, and I could no longer contain my wrath. "Luanna!" I snapped, taking the phone from her hands. "Either you clean up this mess RIGHT NOW, or you'll find yourself over my knee for a smacked bottom. Is that clear?"
She stared up at me in shock, mouth gaping like a fish on land. She seemed about to respond, but decided against it. In a flash, she was on her feet, picking up the sandwich and plate. She hurried over to the kitchen, where she put the spreads back in the fridge, discarded the half-eaten food, and rinsed the plate. She returned to the living room, avoiding my gaze as she picked up her phone from the coffee table, then ran into the bedroom and locked the door behind her.
I cursed myself. With my big mouth, I'd made things weird between us. She would probably start looking for a new flat immediately. I should have found some other way to express my anger.
Then again, it had worked, hadn't it? Or, at least, she'd cleaned up some of the mess. The vacuuming was still undone.
The mood remained tense for a couple of days, but soon, things were almost back to normal in the flat. She no longer locked herself in her room, and eventually stopped glancing at me out of the corner of her eye while avoiding my gaze. I would love to say that her messiness improved, though sadly, that was also back to normal.
About a week after my outburst, I was sitting on the sofa with a book, while Luanna was in the kitchen. I'd assumed that she was making a bowl of cereal, and was surprised when I smelled cooking oil – unusually ambitious for her. A short while after that, I heard a panicked shriek. I jumped to my feet and ran to the kitchen, where my flatmate was staring in horror at a grease fire.
Luanna looked around, and her eyes suddenly rested on the mug of water standing on the kitchen table. My heart jumped when she grinned and picked it up, but fortunately, I was standing close enough to wrest it from her hands.
"NEVER pour water on a grease fire!" I scolded. Deciding that she could only make things worse, I grabbed her shoulders, turning her around. "Go to the living room! I'll deal with it," I said, sending her off with a firm smack to the seat of her jeans that made her squeal.
Now that the brat was out of the room, I only had the fire to deal with. After turning off the stove, I picked up a lid and slowly slid it over the pan, watching as the fire died out. I made absolutely sure the fire was entirely gone before I started cleaning up the mess that my ditzy flatmate had made.
When I returned to the living room, Luanna was standing in the middle of the room, staring at the floor and fidgeting. "I'm sorry," she mumbled meekly, still looking down.
I folded my arms in front of my chest. "You should be! If you don't know how to deal with a grease fire, you shouldn't be messing around with cooking oil unsupervised! You can't even make TOAST without burning it! What on Earth possessed you do to start experimenting?"
She hung her head even lower, sniffling miserably, and I felt a pang of pity. She finally glanced up at me, before returning her gaze to the floor. "Are…" She swallowed. "Are you going to spank me?" she whispered.
I raised an eyebrow. I hadn't thought about it yet, as I had been too busy focusing on the fire, but the idea was certainly appealing. "Can you give me a good reason why I shouldn't?" I said sternly.
"I've never been spanked before," she mumbled with a slight tremble in her voice.
"I can tell," I responded drily. "That's part of the problem. I think a sound spanking would do you a world of good."
She pouted. "But I don't want to be spanked!"
"I know. That's why it will be so effective." I placed my hand on her cheek, forcing her to face me. "Can you look me in the eye and say you don't deserve it?"
She stared at me, before sniffling quietly and looking at the floor again. "I'm sorry," she mumbled.
"Not as sorry as you're going to be," I warned her, fighting to keep the smile off my face. My bratty flatmate was finally going to get what she deserved!
I sat down on the sofa, beginning to unbutton and unzip her trousers.
"Can't I keep my jeans on?" she pleaded.
"Bad girls are spanked on the bare bottom," I told her as I started to pull her trousers down to her knees. Due to how tight those jeans were, it was not as easy as I made it look. "And for your bottom to be bare, your trousers have to come down." I placed my fingers in the waistband of her panties. "And these too," I said as I slid them down as well. She whimpered, but did not protest further – I think she realized that she was in enough trouble as it is.
Standing before me effectively naked from the waist down, Luanna didn't resist as I guided her over my lap. Her long legs were stretched out on the sofa, and her face was buried in the cushions as she sniffled softly. I grinned down at the pretty, pale posterior resting on my lap, and began to stroke it gently. "Are you ready for your punishment, Luanna?"
"Yes, Joelle," she whispered. "Please, not too hard!"
"I will do it just as hard as you deserve, young lady," I scolded as I began to spank her.
Luanna yelped as my hard hand slapped down on her sensitive seat, and she was soon squirming around on my lap. From her reaction, it was clear that she was telling the truth about never having been spanked before.
My hand moved from cheek to cheek, rapidly reddening her rear end. She was kicking her legs and squealing, but she hadn't tried to get up yet – I think she knew that she deserved what she was getting.
Soon, the brat was squirming so much that I had to wrap my arm around her waist to make sure she didn't fall off my lap. My hand continued its relentless assault on her bottom, and tears were pouring down her face – she made no effort at all to take her punishment bravely.
In a surprisingly short time, she was sobbing over my lap, pleading and promising to be good. "Please, Joelle, not so hard! Ow! Please!" It was the sweetest music I had ever heard.
Not long after that, I decided she'd had enough. I helped her up, but when the teary-eyed girl tried to rub the sting from her seat, I slapped her hands away. "Go stand in the corner," I ordered her. "Nose to the wall, hands on your head. Leave your jeans and panties down." I half expected her to protest, but she shuffled meekly over to the corner, all resistance spanked out of her.
I leaned back on the sofa, grinning as I enjoyed the view. I had been right – Luanna looked absolutely adorable sniffling in the corner with her red bottom on display.
I only left her in the corner for ten minutes before telling her to turn around. There was a look of worry on her face, as if she feared that I Intended to spank her more, but when I held my arms out in a hug, she fell against my chest with tears of relief. Soon, she was curled up in my lap, sniffling as I comforted her.
"It's all over?" she asked. "I'm forgiven?"
"All is forgiven, and it's over – for now," I told her. "But the next time you forget your part of the housework, leave a mess, or empty the hot water tank, what do you think will happen?"
"I… I get a spanking?" she guessed nervously.
"That's right. Good girl," I said, kissing her gently on the forehead.
She pouted. "But I don't want to be spanked."
I chuckled – with that pout, and nursing a sore bottom, she looked like a naughty girl half her age. "I know dear, but we both know that you deserve them, don't we?"
"I guess," she mumbled, and I grinned.
She yawned, and I realized that the spanking must have been exhausting for her. She leaned on me as we walked to her bedroom, where I changed her into the adorable bunny pyjamas she owned. I gave her another gentle peck on the forehead as I tucked her in, and she soon fell asleep. Looking down at her, I decided that life in the flat would be a lot more bearable from now on – at least for me.
"I told you, I'll get to it, Joelle. Don't nag me. You're sounding like my mother," Luanna said, rolling her eyes in a way that would have been annoying for a teenager – and it didn't get any less infuriating when coming from a 25-year-old woman.
Luanna had only recently moved out of her parental home, where her mother had done almost all of the housework. As such, I now found myself with a flatmate who didn't clean up after herself, had never done her own laundry, and considered boiling an egg to be an impossible culinary challenge. She also seemed to struggle with the concept that the hot water tank in our flat was smaller than the one in her mother's large house. Every time I found myself forced to take a cold shower in the morning, I could feel my palm itch, longing to give Luanna the one thing her mother had never been considerate enough to give her: a long, hard spanking on the bare bottom.
And if there was one word that described Luanna, besides "brat", it would probably be "spankable." She was a tall brunette with a firm, well-shaped backside that she loved to show off in tight jeans, and there was something about her pouty expression that made me long to see her standing in the corner with those jeans pooled around her feet and her red bottom on display. She'd look even cuter like that, I decided.
It would be one thing if she was eager to learn some of the things her mother had failed to impart, finally ready to grow up, but that was sadly not the case. When I offered to teach her how to do something, or help her with a task, she quickly tried to sneak away and leave it to me.
Deciding I had better things to do with my day than stand there and watch my flatmate not doing housework, I headed out. I was picking up a parcel from the post office, and we needed groceries. I'd previously tried to make Luanna do the shopping, but either she'd postpone it until the shops were closed, or she'd somehow convince herself that buying a latte at Starbucks counted as getting milk.
The line at the post office was even worse than I had expected, and when I finally returned to the flat, more than two hours had passed. Before entering, I wondered whether Luanna had moved a finger while I was away, and soon discovered that she had – she hadn't done any vacuuming, but she'd made herself a sandwich. I could tell, because there was an assortment of spreads standing on the kitchen counter, and a dirty plate on the coffee table with a half-eaten sandwich lying next to it. I sighed – never mind cleaning up after herself, the girl couldn't even place the sandwich back on the plate after taking a bite.
Luanna was still staring at her phone, and I could no longer contain my wrath. "Luanna!" I snapped, taking the phone from her hands. "Either you clean up this mess RIGHT NOW, or you'll find yourself over my knee for a smacked bottom. Is that clear?"
She stared up at me in shock, mouth gaping like a fish on land. She seemed about to respond, but decided against it. In a flash, she was on her feet, picking up the sandwich and plate. She hurried over to the kitchen, where she put the spreads back in the fridge, discarded the half-eaten food, and rinsed the plate. She returned to the living room, avoiding my gaze as she picked up her phone from the coffee table, then ran into the bedroom and locked the door behind her.
I cursed myself. With my big mouth, I'd made things weird between us. She would probably start looking for a new flat immediately. I should have found some other way to express my anger.
Then again, it had worked, hadn't it? Or, at least, she'd cleaned up some of the mess. The vacuuming was still undone.
The mood remained tense for a couple of days, but soon, things were almost back to normal in the flat. She no longer locked herself in her room, and eventually stopped glancing at me out of the corner of her eye while avoiding my gaze. I would love to say that her messiness improved, though sadly, that was also back to normal.
About a week after my outburst, I was sitting on the sofa with a book, while Luanna was in the kitchen. I'd assumed that she was making a bowl of cereal, and was surprised when I smelled cooking oil – unusually ambitious for her. A short while after that, I heard a panicked shriek. I jumped to my feet and ran to the kitchen, where my flatmate was staring in horror at a grease fire.
Luanna looked around, and her eyes suddenly rested on the mug of water standing on the kitchen table. My heart jumped when she grinned and picked it up, but fortunately, I was standing close enough to wrest it from her hands.
"NEVER pour water on a grease fire!" I scolded. Deciding that she could only make things worse, I grabbed her shoulders, turning her around. "Go to the living room! I'll deal with it," I said, sending her off with a firm smack to the seat of her jeans that made her squeal.
Now that the brat was out of the room, I only had the fire to deal with. After turning off the stove, I picked up a lid and slowly slid it over the pan, watching as the fire died out. I made absolutely sure the fire was entirely gone before I started cleaning up the mess that my ditzy flatmate had made.
When I returned to the living room, Luanna was standing in the middle of the room, staring at the floor and fidgeting. "I'm sorry," she mumbled meekly, still looking down.
I folded my arms in front of my chest. "You should be! If you don't know how to deal with a grease fire, you shouldn't be messing around with cooking oil unsupervised! You can't even make TOAST without burning it! What on Earth possessed you do to start experimenting?"
She hung her head even lower, sniffling miserably, and I felt a pang of pity. She finally glanced up at me, before returning her gaze to the floor. "Are…" She swallowed. "Are you going to spank me?" she whispered.
I raised an eyebrow. I hadn't thought about it yet, as I had been too busy focusing on the fire, but the idea was certainly appealing. "Can you give me a good reason why I shouldn't?" I said sternly.
"I've never been spanked before," she mumbled with a slight tremble in her voice.
"I can tell," I responded drily. "That's part of the problem. I think a sound spanking would do you a world of good."
She pouted. "But I don't want to be spanked!"
"I know. That's why it will be so effective." I placed my hand on her cheek, forcing her to face me. "Can you look me in the eye and say you don't deserve it?"
She stared at me, before sniffling quietly and looking at the floor again. "I'm sorry," she mumbled.
"Not as sorry as you're going to be," I warned her, fighting to keep the smile off my face. My bratty flatmate was finally going to get what she deserved!
I sat down on the sofa, beginning to unbutton and unzip her trousers.
"Can't I keep my jeans on?" she pleaded.
"Bad girls are spanked on the bare bottom," I told her as I started to pull her trousers down to her knees. Due to how tight those jeans were, it was not as easy as I made it look. "And for your bottom to be bare, your trousers have to come down." I placed my fingers in the waistband of her panties. "And these too," I said as I slid them down as well. She whimpered, but did not protest further – I think she realized that she was in enough trouble as it is.
Standing before me effectively naked from the waist down, Luanna didn't resist as I guided her over my lap. Her long legs were stretched out on the sofa, and her face was buried in the cushions as she sniffled softly. I grinned down at the pretty, pale posterior resting on my lap, and began to stroke it gently. "Are you ready for your punishment, Luanna?"
"Yes, Joelle," she whispered. "Please, not too hard!"
"I will do it just as hard as you deserve, young lady," I scolded as I began to spank her.
Luanna yelped as my hard hand slapped down on her sensitive seat, and she was soon squirming around on my lap. From her reaction, it was clear that she was telling the truth about never having been spanked before.
My hand moved from cheek to cheek, rapidly reddening her rear end. She was kicking her legs and squealing, but she hadn't tried to get up yet – I think she knew that she deserved what she was getting.
Soon, the brat was squirming so much that I had to wrap my arm around her waist to make sure she didn't fall off my lap. My hand continued its relentless assault on her bottom, and tears were pouring down her face – she made no effort at all to take her punishment bravely.
In a surprisingly short time, she was sobbing over my lap, pleading and promising to be good. "Please, Joelle, not so hard! Ow! Please!" It was the sweetest music I had ever heard.
Not long after that, I decided she'd had enough. I helped her up, but when the teary-eyed girl tried to rub the sting from her seat, I slapped her hands away. "Go stand in the corner," I ordered her. "Nose to the wall, hands on your head. Leave your jeans and panties down." I half expected her to protest, but she shuffled meekly over to the corner, all resistance spanked out of her.
I leaned back on the sofa, grinning as I enjoyed the view. I had been right – Luanna looked absolutely adorable sniffling in the corner with her red bottom on display.
I only left her in the corner for ten minutes before telling her to turn around. There was a look of worry on her face, as if she feared that I Intended to spank her more, but when I held my arms out in a hug, she fell against my chest with tears of relief. Soon, she was curled up in my lap, sniffling as I comforted her.
"It's all over?" she asked. "I'm forgiven?"
"All is forgiven, and it's over – for now," I told her. "But the next time you forget your part of the housework, leave a mess, or empty the hot water tank, what do you think will happen?"
"I… I get a spanking?" she guessed nervously.
"That's right. Good girl," I said, kissing her gently on the forehead.
She pouted. "But I don't want to be spanked."
I chuckled – with that pout, and nursing a sore bottom, she looked like a naughty girl half her age. "I know dear, but we both know that you deserve them, don't we?"
"I guess," she mumbled, and I grinned.
She yawned, and I realized that the spanking must have been exhausting for her. She leaned on me as we walked to her bedroom, where I changed her into the adorable bunny pyjamas she owned. I gave her another gentle peck on the forehead as I tucked her in, and she soon fell asleep. Looking down at her, I decided that life in the flat would be a lot more bearable from now on – at least for me.
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