Third and final part to the little series. Sorry it's a week late.
Three months had passed since Angie moved into my flat, which meant it was also two months since the day I took her over my knee and spanked her butt for her attitude and her refusal to clean up after herself. She was still living there, telling me that it was impossible to find an available flat within her price range, which I could easily believe.
Angie was the younger sister of my college buddy Dylan, and an attractive young lady. Earlier in the year, she'd spent a night in my guest bedroom so that she could attend an early college interview nearby, and she had ended up asking me for a spanking because she couldn't fall asleep. Surprised by the request, I had eventually agreed. A few months later, she'd moved in with me when she found mold in her new flat. Her deficiencies as a flatmate were soon apparent, and her brother suggested that I should deal with her immaturity the same way he had: a good, hard spanking with her shorts down every time she mouthed off or made a mess. In the end, I'd taken his advice.
Two months later, I could tell that the idea worked – partially. After a spanking, Angie would behave for several days, cleaning up after herself and dropping the eyerolls and sarcasm. However, after about a week, her attitude would return, and she would quickly earn herself another spanking on the seat of her panties. She'd stopped trying to argue when I told her that she needed an attitude adjustment, bending obediently over my knee without me having to drag her, but she still couldn't behave for more than about a week.
One morning, I found her sitting on the sofa in her pyjamas, watching TV. I frowned. "Angie, didn't I tell you to hang up the laundry before you went to bed last night? And you promised you'd do it?"
She bit her lip, glancing aside. "I forgot. I'll go do it once this show is over, I promise!"
I folded my arms in front of my chest. "I had to re-run the load. You'll hang it up when it's done, but before that, you're getting another reminder to keep your promises. It would be one thing if this happened once, but this is the third time in a row!"
She rose to her feet, staring at the floor, and I took her place on the couch. She stood before me, and my hands moved to the front of her pyjamas. I undid the knot, slowly pulling her pyjama bottoms down to her knees – before suddenly noticing that she wasn't wearing anything underneath.
"Go put on some panties, Angie," I commanded, averting my eyes. I'd spanked her in a thong several times, but I'd never taken her panties down. Partly to protect her modesty, and partly because her brother had asked me not to, and I saw no reason to refuse his request.
"Why?" she asked, a pout on her lips. I stared at her. "Why do I have to put panties on?"
"That’s… I can't… It's not –" I babbled. For once, I found myself speechless. I had not expected that question.
"Can't you spank me on the bare bottom for once?" She fidgeted with a strand of her hair.
I was once again forced to reevaluate some of the things I thought I knew. "Angie," I said slowly, staring at her. "Do you LIKE being spanked?"For a second, she seemed about to deny it, but then she blushed, looking at the floor. "I hated every spanking I received from my brother – even the ones I asked for. With you…" She took a deep breath. "It's just different, you know? I thought you were cute the moment you opened the door and invited me into the flat, and you're charming, too. I get this funny feeling in my tummy whenever you scold me or take my shorts down, and I love the way you kiss my forehead when you tuck me into bed." She bit her lip. "I know you like to spank me, too."
I frowned. "What makes you say that?" I said noncommittally.
"Whenever I bend over your lap, I can feel something hard poking me," she said, the ghost of a smile on her face. "It's been there every time – even for my first good-night spanking."
I briefly considered denying it, but decided against it. It was the truth – I quite enjoyed taking her over my lap and smacking her beautiful bouncing bottom. Suddenly, a thought struck me. "Angie, did you deliberately leave the washing in the machine to get me to punish you? And then sit here without panties, hoping I'd spank you on the bare?"
She squirmed, looking very uncomfortable. "Yes, sir," she admitted, mumbling and still avoiding my gaze.
"And is this the first time you've deliberately misbehaved to earn a spanking?" I paused. "Was there, in fact, anything wrong in your flat?"
She didn't respond, but the blush on her cheeks told me everything I needed to know.
"So, let's recap. You pretend to find mold in your flat to have an excuse to move in here. You act like a brat until I'm convinced to take you over my lap and tan your hide. You then continue acting up once a week or so, to make me keep punishing you." I raised an eyebrow. "And you really want to be spanked every week?"
She hesitated. "Actually, sir, I would prefer a little more often than that, but I was afraid you'd stop if you didn't think the punishments worked."
I tried to process all of this. "And you never thought of ASKING me to spank you?"
"That wouldn't be the same!" Standing there with a pout on her face, her hair in pigtails, and her pyjamas bottoms around her knees, she looked rather like the immature brat she'd been acting like.
"So instead, you've been deliberately annoying me for several months? Doing your best to push my buttons?"
I pondered what to do. On the one hand, spanking her sounded like great fun, but on the other, I didn’t' want to reward her for being a brat. I could probably tell her that I wouldn't spank her unless she behaved, but that might make her act up even more. Besides, I really wanted to spank her bottom soundly; she looked so cute when she squirmed. How could I spank her without having her enjoy it?
Making a decision, I folded my arms in front of my chest. "Have you ever had the belt before?"
The effect of those words was amazing. She took a step back, her face pale as both hands reached back to protectively clasp her bare bottom. "No! You can't!"
I raised an eyebrow. "Can't I?"
She whimpered softly. "Wayne, please…"
I grinned; it seemed the threat had the effect I had hoped. I patted my lap." Come here, Angie."
She inched towards me, bending over my lap with great reluctance. I caressed her bare bottom briefly, enjoying the soft skin beneath my palm. Without warning, I lifted my hand and started to spank her. She yelped as the first smacks landed; I had decided to drop the usual slow warm-up and spank hard and fast from the start.
My hand moved from cheek to cheek, covering every inch of her wriggling rear end. She was squirming around, but there was not a word of protest from her. Now that I knew her little secret, and she no longer attempted to hide her feelings, I could tell she was enjoying it.
My hand rose and fell, covering her lovely white orbs with pink handprints. She let out little squeals and whimpers, but she was also moaning. "Do you like your spanking, young lady?" I teased her as I spanked.
"Mmm. Yes, sir," she admitted, blushing. "But I don't think I'm the only one." She started grinding against the bulge in my trousers.
I gave her a set of particularly hard spanks on her sit spots that caused her to howl. "Enough of that cheek, young lady. Don’t' forget who's in charge around here."
I smiled as I watched her jiggling buttocks flatten under my palm, then bounce back for the next stroke. She was an absolute delight to spank, and I could gladly have gone on for hours.
Gradually, her yelps and moans were replaced with sobs, and I could see the tears trickling down her face. "Please, sir! That's enough, isn't it?"
Knowing that she had reached her limit, I decided it was time to end the hand-spanking. Now, the real spanking could begin.
She breathed a sigh of relief when I stopped smacking her, but her eyes widened when she heard me unbuckle my belt and slide it from its loops. I could see goosebumps forming on her skin, and she clenched and unclenched her cheeks.
"Wayne!" she squealed, trying to get up. "Please don't!"
I held her down, tapping the folded-up belt against her quivering backside. "You are going to get a real punishment for once, Angie," I scolded. "You can have a good spanking over my knee any time you ask for it – several times a day, if that's what you want – but every time you misbehave, it's going to be the belt you feel. Is that clear?" Her only response was a whimper, so I struck her thigh hard with the belt. "I asked you a question, young lady."
"Ow! Yes, sir, I understand," she howled. She glanced over her shoulder at me. "Please, sir, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have deceived you. May I please have another chance?"
"Of course you may," I assured her. "As soon as I've given you a long, hard belting." Before she could protest, I lifted the belt and started swinging it at her red, sore cheeks.
Angie had often been rather vocal during her spankings, squealing and crying out every time I spanked her. However, that was nothing compared to the howls she let out when the leather bit into her sensitive seat. She squirmed like a fish on land and kicked her legs as if trying to sprint away, screeching in agony as I lashed her.
The belt swung down on her sore cheeks again and again as I mercilessly tanned her hide. I wanted her to know just how disappointed I was in her. She sobbed pitifully as her bottom burned.
Her backside was a mess of crimson marks, and every time I swung the belt, another red line was added to the mix. I knew it would be some time before the girl sat comfortably.
I have no idea how many times I strapped her, but she lay limply across my lap, too exhausted to squirm, by the time I stopped. I gave her a few minutes to calm down before I started gently rubbing the belt against her skin. She froze, recognizing the implicit threat.
"Are you going to behave from now on, Angie?"
"Yes, sir," she said meekly.
"What will you do the next time you want a spanking?"
"I will ask you properly, sir."
"And what will happen if you act like a brat?"
She shivered. "You'll use that awful belt on me, sir," she said with a pout.
I grinned. "Good answer."
I picked her up in my arms and rose. "W-what's happening?" she said, eyeing me nervously.
"You're going to bed for a little nap," I told her.
"But I'm not tired!" she told me, though I could tell that wasn't true. Being spanked always tuckered her out, and I couldn't imagine a belting was less tiring.
"Well, you're going to stay in your room until I tell you that you can come out," I told her. "If you as much as open that door for any reason other than going to the bathroom, I'll bend you over the back of the sofa and use the belt on your bottom and thighs." She shivered, knowing I meant it.
I tucked her into bed, giving her a kiss on the forehead before leaving the room and closing the door behind me. The next time she asked for a spanking, we might explore why she wanted me to take her panties down. Maybe she'd want to be TAKEN to bed rather than SENT to bed? That was something we could discuss for a good-girl spanking. However, those kinds of rewards were obviously off-limits to bad girls who'd earned themselves punishment beltings.
I sat down on the sofa to do some reading, whistling merrily. A few hours grounded in her room, and then Angie could hang up the laundry. I wondered what effect a good belting would have on her attitude, but I had a feeling that things would improve greatly in my flat.
Three months had passed since Angie moved into my flat, which meant it was also two months since the day I took her over my knee and spanked her butt for her attitude and her refusal to clean up after herself. She was still living there, telling me that it was impossible to find an available flat within her price range, which I could easily believe.
Angie was the younger sister of my college buddy Dylan, and an attractive young lady. Earlier in the year, she'd spent a night in my guest bedroom so that she could attend an early college interview nearby, and she had ended up asking me for a spanking because she couldn't fall asleep. Surprised by the request, I had eventually agreed. A few months later, she'd moved in with me when she found mold in her new flat. Her deficiencies as a flatmate were soon apparent, and her brother suggested that I should deal with her immaturity the same way he had: a good, hard spanking with her shorts down every time she mouthed off or made a mess. In the end, I'd taken his advice.
Two months later, I could tell that the idea worked – partially. After a spanking, Angie would behave for several days, cleaning up after herself and dropping the eyerolls and sarcasm. However, after about a week, her attitude would return, and she would quickly earn herself another spanking on the seat of her panties. She'd stopped trying to argue when I told her that she needed an attitude adjustment, bending obediently over my knee without me having to drag her, but she still couldn't behave for more than about a week.
One morning, I found her sitting on the sofa in her pyjamas, watching TV. I frowned. "Angie, didn't I tell you to hang up the laundry before you went to bed last night? And you promised you'd do it?"
She bit her lip, glancing aside. "I forgot. I'll go do it once this show is over, I promise!"
I folded my arms in front of my chest. "I had to re-run the load. You'll hang it up when it's done, but before that, you're getting another reminder to keep your promises. It would be one thing if this happened once, but this is the third time in a row!"
She rose to her feet, staring at the floor, and I took her place on the couch. She stood before me, and my hands moved to the front of her pyjamas. I undid the knot, slowly pulling her pyjama bottoms down to her knees – before suddenly noticing that she wasn't wearing anything underneath.
"Go put on some panties, Angie," I commanded, averting my eyes. I'd spanked her in a thong several times, but I'd never taken her panties down. Partly to protect her modesty, and partly because her brother had asked me not to, and I saw no reason to refuse his request.
"Why?" she asked, a pout on her lips. I stared at her. "Why do I have to put panties on?"
"That’s… I can't… It's not –" I babbled. For once, I found myself speechless. I had not expected that question.
"Can't you spank me on the bare bottom for once?" She fidgeted with a strand of her hair.
I was once again forced to reevaluate some of the things I thought I knew. "Angie," I said slowly, staring at her. "Do you LIKE being spanked?"For a second, she seemed about to deny it, but then she blushed, looking at the floor. "I hated every spanking I received from my brother – even the ones I asked for. With you…" She took a deep breath. "It's just different, you know? I thought you were cute the moment you opened the door and invited me into the flat, and you're charming, too. I get this funny feeling in my tummy whenever you scold me or take my shorts down, and I love the way you kiss my forehead when you tuck me into bed." She bit her lip. "I know you like to spank me, too."
I frowned. "What makes you say that?" I said noncommittally.
"Whenever I bend over your lap, I can feel something hard poking me," she said, the ghost of a smile on her face. "It's been there every time – even for my first good-night spanking."
I briefly considered denying it, but decided against it. It was the truth – I quite enjoyed taking her over my lap and smacking her beautiful bouncing bottom. Suddenly, a thought struck me. "Angie, did you deliberately leave the washing in the machine to get me to punish you? And then sit here without panties, hoping I'd spank you on the bare?"
She squirmed, looking very uncomfortable. "Yes, sir," she admitted, mumbling and still avoiding my gaze.
"And is this the first time you've deliberately misbehaved to earn a spanking?" I paused. "Was there, in fact, anything wrong in your flat?"
She didn't respond, but the blush on her cheeks told me everything I needed to know.
"So, let's recap. You pretend to find mold in your flat to have an excuse to move in here. You act like a brat until I'm convinced to take you over my lap and tan your hide. You then continue acting up once a week or so, to make me keep punishing you." I raised an eyebrow. "And you really want to be spanked every week?"
She hesitated. "Actually, sir, I would prefer a little more often than that, but I was afraid you'd stop if you didn't think the punishments worked."
I tried to process all of this. "And you never thought of ASKING me to spank you?"
"That wouldn't be the same!" Standing there with a pout on her face, her hair in pigtails, and her pyjamas bottoms around her knees, she looked rather like the immature brat she'd been acting like.
"So instead, you've been deliberately annoying me for several months? Doing your best to push my buttons?"
I pondered what to do. On the one hand, spanking her sounded like great fun, but on the other, I didn’t' want to reward her for being a brat. I could probably tell her that I wouldn't spank her unless she behaved, but that might make her act up even more. Besides, I really wanted to spank her bottom soundly; she looked so cute when she squirmed. How could I spank her without having her enjoy it?
Making a decision, I folded my arms in front of my chest. "Have you ever had the belt before?"
The effect of those words was amazing. She took a step back, her face pale as both hands reached back to protectively clasp her bare bottom. "No! You can't!"
I raised an eyebrow. "Can't I?"
She whimpered softly. "Wayne, please…"
I grinned; it seemed the threat had the effect I had hoped. I patted my lap." Come here, Angie."
She inched towards me, bending over my lap with great reluctance. I caressed her bare bottom briefly, enjoying the soft skin beneath my palm. Without warning, I lifted my hand and started to spank her. She yelped as the first smacks landed; I had decided to drop the usual slow warm-up and spank hard and fast from the start.
My hand moved from cheek to cheek, covering every inch of her wriggling rear end. She was squirming around, but there was not a word of protest from her. Now that I knew her little secret, and she no longer attempted to hide her feelings, I could tell she was enjoying it.
My hand rose and fell, covering her lovely white orbs with pink handprints. She let out little squeals and whimpers, but she was also moaning. "Do you like your spanking, young lady?" I teased her as I spanked.
"Mmm. Yes, sir," she admitted, blushing. "But I don't think I'm the only one." She started grinding against the bulge in my trousers.
I gave her a set of particularly hard spanks on her sit spots that caused her to howl. "Enough of that cheek, young lady. Don’t' forget who's in charge around here."
I smiled as I watched her jiggling buttocks flatten under my palm, then bounce back for the next stroke. She was an absolute delight to spank, and I could gladly have gone on for hours.
Gradually, her yelps and moans were replaced with sobs, and I could see the tears trickling down her face. "Please, sir! That's enough, isn't it?"
Knowing that she had reached her limit, I decided it was time to end the hand-spanking. Now, the real spanking could begin.
She breathed a sigh of relief when I stopped smacking her, but her eyes widened when she heard me unbuckle my belt and slide it from its loops. I could see goosebumps forming on her skin, and she clenched and unclenched her cheeks.
"Wayne!" she squealed, trying to get up. "Please don't!"
I held her down, tapping the folded-up belt against her quivering backside. "You are going to get a real punishment for once, Angie," I scolded. "You can have a good spanking over my knee any time you ask for it – several times a day, if that's what you want – but every time you misbehave, it's going to be the belt you feel. Is that clear?" Her only response was a whimper, so I struck her thigh hard with the belt. "I asked you a question, young lady."
"Ow! Yes, sir, I understand," she howled. She glanced over her shoulder at me. "Please, sir, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have deceived you. May I please have another chance?"
"Of course you may," I assured her. "As soon as I've given you a long, hard belting." Before she could protest, I lifted the belt and started swinging it at her red, sore cheeks.
Angie had often been rather vocal during her spankings, squealing and crying out every time I spanked her. However, that was nothing compared to the howls she let out when the leather bit into her sensitive seat. She squirmed like a fish on land and kicked her legs as if trying to sprint away, screeching in agony as I lashed her.
The belt swung down on her sore cheeks again and again as I mercilessly tanned her hide. I wanted her to know just how disappointed I was in her. She sobbed pitifully as her bottom burned.
Her backside was a mess of crimson marks, and every time I swung the belt, another red line was added to the mix. I knew it would be some time before the girl sat comfortably.
I have no idea how many times I strapped her, but she lay limply across my lap, too exhausted to squirm, by the time I stopped. I gave her a few minutes to calm down before I started gently rubbing the belt against her skin. She froze, recognizing the implicit threat.
"Are you going to behave from now on, Angie?"
"Yes, sir," she said meekly.
"What will you do the next time you want a spanking?"
"I will ask you properly, sir."
"And what will happen if you act like a brat?"
She shivered. "You'll use that awful belt on me, sir," she said with a pout.
I grinned. "Good answer."
I picked her up in my arms and rose. "W-what's happening?" she said, eyeing me nervously.
"You're going to bed for a little nap," I told her.
"But I'm not tired!" she told me, though I could tell that wasn't true. Being spanked always tuckered her out, and I couldn't imagine a belting was less tiring.
"Well, you're going to stay in your room until I tell you that you can come out," I told her. "If you as much as open that door for any reason other than going to the bathroom, I'll bend you over the back of the sofa and use the belt on your bottom and thighs." She shivered, knowing I meant it.
I tucked her into bed, giving her a kiss on the forehead before leaving the room and closing the door behind me. The next time she asked for a spanking, we might explore why she wanted me to take her panties down. Maybe she'd want to be TAKEN to bed rather than SENT to bed? That was something we could discuss for a good-girl spanking. However, those kinds of rewards were obviously off-limits to bad girls who'd earned themselves punishment beltings.
I sat down on the sofa to do some reading, whistling merrily. A few hours grounded in her room, and then Angie could hang up the laundry. I wondered what effect a good belting would have on her attitude, but I had a feeling that things would improve greatly in my flat.
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