Abigail's adventures 2: Her flatmate (F/F story)

Abigail rubbed the seat of her jeans with a blissful smile on her face as she returned her flat after another lovely visit to the stern Mister Stokes. Isaac certainly knew how to spank a young lady – and how to treat her in the bedroom afterwards!

She expected to find her flatmate Nilima reading a book, or baking cookies, or drawing, or something like that. She did not expect to find the petite Indian girl spanking herself with a wooden spoon, but that was exactly what happened.

She heard the smacks as soon as she opened the door. Thinking that the sounds were quite familiar, she tiptoed over to Nilima's bedroom to have her suspicions confirmed. Sure enough – her flatmate was bent over her own bed, one hand reaching back to spank her own bottom with a large wooden spoon. She'd removed her skirt, and her panties were around her knees. Nilima moaned as she tapped the spoon lightly against her bare bottom. Abigail stifled a giggle; she guessed that the girl had never had a REAL spanking, if those taps were enough to make her fidget.

She watched the scene for several minutes, enjoying the sight as the girl continued to spank her own bottom. Finally, Abigail decided to knock on the door and make her presence known.

"Oh! Shit!" Nilima shrieked, spinning around.

"Please, don't stop on my account," Abigail said, grinning impishly. "Go ahead!"

"Abigail!" Nilima said, staring at her flatmate. "This… this isn't what it looks like!"

"Oh? You weren't spanking yourself?" Abigail said sweetly. "Then what were you doing? Playing music? Trying to swat a fly? Is this some new form of exercise I haven't heard of?"

Nilima opened and closed her mouth, trying to think of some excuse. "It's… I wasn't…. It's not…"

"You know, I hope you were planning to wash that spoon before placing it back in the kitchen," Abigail said with a teasing smile.

"It's not from the kitchen! I keep it here," Nilima assured her. "I would never make cookies with my spanking spoon! Don't be disgusting." She pouted, then suddenly realized what she'd said. "I mean – my… my massage spoon!"

Abigail's adventures 1: Meeting Isaac (M/F story)

First part of a short series I've written. 

Abigail could feel the familiar butterflies in her stomach as she followed the path up to Isaac's house. "Mister Stokes to some people, Isaac to my friends,” he often said, but for her, it was usually 'sir'.

Many months ago, when she'd moved here as a poor, bright-eyed student, she'd ended up with a part-time job tending to his garden and other menial tasks. He was a tall, bald, muscular man with dark eyes, and the first time she'd met him, she'd been almost speechless. There was something about the way he looked and acted that had made the red-headed student slightly weak-kneed, and for the first few days, she'd often found her thoughts drifting to him, wanting to know more about him. It was silly – he was almost old enough to be her father – but there was something about him that had caught her interest.

She'd worked for him for a few weeks when the incident occurred. She'd been given a lot of instructions when she started the job, more than she'd been able to remember, and he'd grown tired of her forgetfulness. One morning, he started lecturing her about arriving on time, and on working hard, and on following his instructions, or something to that effect. As he talked, she found herself once again lost in that deep voice and those piercing eyes.

She suddenly realized that he'd stopped talking and was looking at her impatiently. It seemed like he'd asked her a question, and that she'd have to come up with a fairly satisfying answer. In the end, she went with "Huh?”

"That does it,” Isaac had declared angrily, and he grabbed her arm and dragged her along. The next thing she knew, he'd sat down on a nearby bench, yanked her jeans down, and pulled her over his knee. She was completely stunned, unable to move a muscle until the first few smacks landed on the seat of her panties.

"Ow! What's going on?” she yelped.

"Be quiet, girl,” he'd told her. "I've told you time and time again to listen to my instructions, so now, I'm going to show you what happens when you don't.” As he scolded, his firm palm continued to spank her bubble butt, slamming like hard wood against her soft flesh.

Coworkers (M/F story)

Alice had only worked with the company for a few weeks, so she was quite delighted when the other girls in her department invited her to join their monthly after-work drinks. Betty warned her that the chats could occasionally get a bit dirty, but Alice assured her that it wouldn't be a problem.

The four were sitting at a pub a stone's throw away from the office, and they were now nearing the end of their third glass. They'd discussed their favourite and least favourite managers, the TV shows they were currently watching, and where the most convenient place to park was, when Betty suddenly grinned, leaned forward, and whispered to the others. "Would you like to talk about something a little more… twisted?"

Diane frowned. "What did you have in mind?"

"What is the kinkiest thing you've ever done?" Betty leaned back to watch their response.

The girls looked at each other, nodding, though Charlie looked a little sheepish. Diane looked at Betty. "Sure – but you go first."

Betty was a curvy brunette with long, straight hair, a dress that she somehow managed to make look more expensive than it actually was, and a face full of makeup. She took a sip of her white wine, before telling them "I had a friend with benefits some years ago. Once, he asked me if I could wear a blindfold while we were having sex." She grinned. "And I said yes!"

Charlie gasped, blushing, and Diane raised her eyebrows in shock. Only Alice looked unimpressed.

"It was so exciting!" Betty continued. "Not being able to see what he was doing. I heartily recommend it." She turned to Charlie. "Your turn."

Charlie was a shy, lanky girl in a frumpy sweater and a long skirt who wore her red hair in a ponytail. She paused, thinking of how to respond, then blushed as a memory resurfaced. "I once went an entire day without panties on – while wearing a skirt!" She hurriedly lifted her cider and had a small sip, to calm herself.

"Was it a workday?" Betty asked. "Did you go to the office?" When Charlie nodded, Betty's grin became even wider. "You dirty girl!" Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Alice roll her eyes.

Diane placed her IPA down on the table. She was a tall, athletic blonde wearing a t-shirt and jeans. "I once asked my ex-boyfriend to pull my hair while we were in bed. It hurt, but in a good way, I guess?" She touched her short-cropped hair. "Obviously, that was while we were still dating, and before I cut my hair."

Alice snorted, and Diane gave her an annoyed look. Alice giggled as she glanced around the table. "This is what you girls think kinky is?" In her hand was some sort of mixed drink, and it seemed her petite body was not as used to alcohol as the others. Or maybe she had just had a lot more of it. In either case, she was well past tipsy, which played a part in what was about to happen. She probably wouldn't have shared her experience with three women she barely knew if she was more sober. She had another sip and grinned at them. "Let me tell you about last Friday…"

"This ought to be good," Diane commented drily, but Betty shushed her.

"I've been seeing this guy for about a year now. Stern chap, into discipline," Alice said, putting the glass to her lips again. "I was at his flat last Friday, for one of our regular sessions. As usual, he took me into the living room and pulled my jeans and panties down to my knees. I had to stand in front of him with my hands on my head while he scolded me for forgetting to do my laundry and not cleaning up after myself – little things like that." The others stared wide-eyed at her, and she smiled.

"Standing there on display, naked from the waist down, while he lectured me… it felt like hours, but it probably wasn't more than ten or fifteen minutes. Then, he patted his lap and ordered me over his knee. Obviously, I obeyed. He pushed me forward until he felt that my bottom was sufficiently raised, and then began to spank me." She grinned at the three speechless ladies watching her, mouths open as if they were hoping to catch flies. "He started off quite slowly and gently, but it became harder and faster, and soon, I was squirming over his lap, moaning. But he kept on spanking, his hand slamming down like a paddle, and I was bucking and bouncing over his lap with tears rolling down my face. I can't tell you how much I was squealing and yelping! I promised to be good, but he ignored my pleas."

Consequences of shoplifting (M/fF story)

The finished story.

 

I was out for a long evening walk, enjoying the cool air after a hot summer day, when I walked past a small corner store and heard raised voices and a woman who sounded close to tears. Curiosity overcame me, and I went inside to see what was going on.

The teenaged girl standing in the centre of the room stared at me when I entered. "Eric!" she shouted in relief. She rushed towards me and threw her arms around my neck, tears in her eyes.

"Breanna? What's wrong?" I said. Breanna was a slim girl of 18 with long, blonde hair and large, blue eyes.

A tall, balding, middle-aged man approached me, with a stout red-headed woman of about the same age following two steps behind him. "You know this girl?" he asked me.

"Yes, I'm a friend of Breanna," I replied. It would be more correct to say she was my younger sister's best friend, but I figured they weren't too interested in the details. I glanced down at Breanna, but she'd buried her face in my shirt, sniffling. "What's wrong?" I said to the couple.

"The little missy was shoplifting!" the woman responded. "She took two bottles of wine and hid them in her backpack when she thought we weren't looking – and dropped one of them when we caught her."

I glanced down at the whimpering girl. "Breanna, is this true?" She didn't answer at first, so I gently rubbed her back and repeated the question. She nodded, giving me a tearful gaze.

"I was at the pub with the girls, and when I left, I wanted a couple of bottles to take home." Her lower lip trembled. "I didn't have enough money, so I thought…"

"You thought you'd steal them instead." I shook my head. "I expected better of you, Breanna:" I guess my tone was slightly harsher than I intended, for the tears immediately started flowing again, and she buried her face in my shirt again and sobbed.

"Hello! What's going on here, then?" A police officer entered the store. She was a dark-haired athletic woman who appeared to be in her late thirties, and introduced herself as Officer Kaye. The couple, who turned out to be the store owner and his wife, Mr and Mrs Brockham, explained the situation, while I continued to comfort the slightly intoxicated teenager.

The police officer placed a gentle, but firm, hand on Breanna's shoulder. "Right. Come with me, young lady," she said. When Breanna didn't respond, the officer tried to disentangle the teen's arms from around my neck, but it proved to be more difficult than we supposed. She held on for dear life, clinging to me like a babe to her mother.

"Please, Eric! Isn't there anything you can do?" Breanna whimpered. I knew how scared she was of getting into trouble, but while I was flattered at her belief in my abilities, I didn't see what could be done.

"Shame about seeing a young girl like that in court," the man grumbled. "Back in my day, a young lady who stole would have her butt spanked instead. Teach her not to steal again."

"I think I'd have preferred that," Breanna mumbled in my ear.

A solution to our little problem had suddenly presented itself to me. I looked at the man. "If I give Breanna a good spanking, do you agree not to press charges?"

Breanna gasped, staring up at me, but didn't release her grip. For a few seconds, no one spoke. The man raised an eyebrow, considering the suggestion. "Hm. If I thought that she'd been sufficiently punished… but I think I'd prefer to spank the little miss myself."

"No!" Breanna squealed. "Not you! I trust Eric!"