Zack was sitting on a park bench, enjoying both the sunshine and the first cigarette of the morning. He'd been a mechanic's apprentice for almost two years, but he'd been given the day off since they had so little to do at the moment. However, by the time he'd been told about it, he was already dressed and had eaten breakfast, so he didn't feel like going back to bed. Instead, he decided to spend his morning going for a walk and enjoying the sun in the park.
A teenaged girl in a school uniform glanced at him as she walked past. A few seconds later, she cast him a second glance, and she stopped, appearing to think very hard about something. After a minute or so, she approached him. "Excuse me, sir," she said, standing at attention with her hands at her back as if talking to a teacher. "May I have one of your cigarettes?"
Zack raised an eyebrow. This wasn't the first time someone had asked him for a cigarette, but he'd never been asked so politely before. There was something about her that told him that she wasn't a regular smoker. "Sorry, I don't give smokes to children."
The girl blushed, glaring at him. "I'm eighteen! I'm old enough to smoke!"
"In that case, you're old enough to buy a pack for yourself, then," Zack said, grinning at his own wit.
"I only need one cigarette," she said, then stopped, with an expression that suggested that she'd said too much.
Once again, Zack's eyebrow rose. This conversation was already quite interesting, and it was promising to be even more so. He glanced up at the lanky blonde at his side. "You're from Saint Ada's, aren't you? Only school in town with uniforms that I know of." He leaned back. "You should be careful. I heard they've reintroduced corporal punishment. If you're caught with a cigarette on school grounds, you might find yourself with a sore bottom."
The girl blushed, but there was something about her expression that suggested to Zack that he'd hit closer than she was comfortable with. Maybe she was more familiar with the disciplinary rules than he'd expected. Was she deliberately trying to get into trouble?
Huffing, she avoided his gaze. "If I can't have one of your cigarettes, that's fine, of course, but you should have –"
"I didn't say that," he replied, putting his hand in his pocket. He drew out the pack of cigarettes and held it out to her. She slowly reached her hand forward, but suddenly, his other hand closed around her wrist. "You know, if it's a sore bottom you're after, you don't have to be caught smoking. I can give you one if you want, and it won't show up on your permanent record."
The girl froze, staring wide-eyed at him, and he let go of her hand.
"That's… I don't… We…" The girl stammered, avoiding his eyes, then started running in the direction of the school.
A few hours later, she was standing at the gates of the school. The other girls had left, and she was the last one there, but she couldn't see the young man in the overalls anywhere. She sighed, but she couldn't quite decide whether it was relief or disappointment she felt. She started walking home, wondering what could have been.
Suddenly, there was a voice in her ear. "So, made up your mind yet?"
She squealed, spinning around to see the red-haired man with the roguish smile grinning at her.
"I-I didn't see you," she stammered.
"I know," he said, still grinning. "I thought it would look a bit creepy hanging outside a girls' school while the pupils left, so I was resting on the roof of that garage." He nodded at the structure in question. "Now, what did you decide?"
"A-about what?" She tried to avoid his gaze; looking into his eyes made her tummy feel funny.
He stepped closer. She fought the urge to take a step back. "Do you want me to put you over my lap and spank your bottom? Or not?" He noticed her trembling hands, and he took a step back again. "You can say no if you want to. I'm not going to force you to do anything you don't want."
"N-no, that's – I mean, yes," she stammered. "I'd like you to s- to sp-" She tried to speak the dreadful word that always gave her a tingle between the legs, but she couldn't. "To do… THAT."
He chuckled. "Your place or mine?"
"Mine," she decided. "My parents are both working the late shift, and won't be home until midnight. This way," she said, pointing. He picked up her school bag and walked alongside her.
As they walked, Clara leaned against him. There was something raw and masculine about his smell, though she couldn't figure out if it was him or the work clothes. When he placed his hand on the seat of her skirt, cupping her rear, her eyes widened, but she didn't protest. She realized she didn't want him to take his hand away. "I'm Clara, by the way," she whispered.
"Nice to meet you, Clara. I'm Zack."
Back at the house, she opened the door, leading him up to her childhood bedroom. She always kept it clean, but if she'd known she'd be bringing home a young man, she would have hid some of the stuffed animals. He, however, didn't seem to care.
He sat down on her bed. "Now, are you sure you still want to do this?"
She bit her lip. Was she? "I'm sure," she said firmly, meeting his eyes. "But thank you for asking."
He beckoned her over with a crooked finger. "Over here, then."
She approached him, and he guided her over his lap with surprising gentleness. She found herself stretched out on her bed, her face resting on the pillows and her backside raised over his lap. He placed his hand on the seat of her skirt, stroking it gently. "You are in for a good, hard spanking, young lady," he scolded playfully.
"Y-yes, sir." Her heart was beating rapidly. Finally, she would learn what a spanking was like! Was she supposed to act like a brat now? Taunt him? Egg him on? She'd never been in this position before, and she wasn't entirely sure of the etiquette.
He lifted his hand and began to spank her. Her eyes widened as the first smacks landed on her rear end. She was actually being spanked right now! "How's that?" he asked as he continued to warm her bottom.
"It stings, sir," she said, wriggling a little.
"It's supposed to," he responded. "Do you like it?"
Shyly, she buried her face in the pillow. "Yes, sir," she mumbled, as if afraid to admit the truth.
He kept spanking her for a few minutes. Gradually, the sting increased, and she was soon wincing with every smack. "Can I lift your skirt?"
"I don't know. CAN you?" she said, smirking – though her expression was replaced by a wince when he delivered a few hard smacks to her thighs.
"It's not very wise to develop a sense of humour when you're in this position, young lady," he scolded, though there was a smile on his face. "As for whether I can…" He grabbed the hem of her skirt, flipping it up. He was not at all surprised to see her wearing the regulation white cotton knickers. She didn't seem like the type of girl who would flaunt the rules and wear a thong. "Hm, turns out I can."
She squirmed a little as the first smacks landed on her panty-clad bottom. It was clear her thick skirt had provided quite a lot of protection. However, it also felt a lot more erotic to have his hand cup the seat of her panties.
His hand moved from cheek to cheek, covering every inch of her sensitive little backside. Her bottom was now quite pink, and had even begun to turn red in places. She winced, licking her lips.
When he spanked the lower parts of her bottom, she kicked her legs and felt tears at the edges of her eyes, but she didn't tell him to stop. She closed her eyes, savouring the sting. This was like nothing she'd ever experienced before.
"Do you like your spanking?" he asked, rubbing her bottom gently.
"Mhm. Yes, sir," she moaned, pushing her backside against his palm, eager for his touch.
"Would you like to take this to the next level?"
"Um?" She frowned. Glancing up at him, she wondered what he meant.
"I'd like to take these panties down."
She blushed, burying her face in the pillows again. How embarrassing! And yet, she found herself lifting her hips. Chuckling, he placed his fingers in the waistband of her knickers and slipped them down to her knees.
The first spanks on her bare bottom made her yelp, but she assumed that was either psychological or a result of the growing sting. Unlike her skirt, her panties were too thin to offer much protection.
She moaned and writhed over his lap, lost in pain and pleasure. She'd never experienced anything like this before, and she wanted it to go on forever. His hand kept slamming down on her sensitive skin, and she squirmed and squealed. Her legs were drumming against the bed, caught by the panties that were still around her knees.
Tears were rolling down her face, and the burning sting in her bottom was becoming unbearable. After what felt like hours and hours over the young man's lap, she sobbed. "Stop!" she pleaded. "Please!"
Instantly, he stopped spanking her. She found herself in his arms as he cooed gently and dried her tears. "You took your spanking very well, Clara," he whispered. "Good girl."
She blushed, but there was a grin on her face. "Thank you, Zack."
"Would you like me to tuck you into bed before I leave, so you can have a little nap?"
She bit her lip. It turned out that while HEARING the word spanking caused a strong tingle between her legs, actually BEING spanked was even more exciting. "Um. Actually… This is a very big bed… Do you have to leave?" She played with the buttons on her shirt, too embarrassed to look at him.
He chuckled, giving her a kiss that made her knees buckle. It was a good thing she was sitting down, for if she'd been standing, she'd have fallen over. "Some other time, Clara. I don't think you want me to be here when your parents arrive? But this was very fun, and if you want, we can do it again sometime."
She nodded, feeling too overcome to speak.
True to his word, he tucked her into bed and gave her a goodnight-kiss before he left.
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