Speeding (F/M story)

Peter Reid was quite used to speeding tickets. He had a fast car, and firmly believed that it entitled him to drive as fast as he could. The police, unfortunately, had a different view. As a result, he had more speeding tickets than anyone else in the state. And right now, he realized, he was about to earn another one.

As he pulled over and waited for the cop to come over to the car, he realized that he knew her; it was officer Taylor, an old friend. He had even flirted with her a couple of times, and she didn't seem to be unresponsive. He could smooth talk his way out this. He'd done it before.

"Hello, officer. Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"

"Drop it, Peter. It's not going to work this time." Her tone was quite rough; this wasn't going to be as easy as he had first thought.

"What? I'm just -"

"You're trying to talk your way out of the ticket. Well, I've seen how little you care about those. It isn't like you can't pay them. But I have good news and bad news. The good news is that you aren't getting a ticket. The bad news is, you're getting something else, and you're not talking your way out of that. Get out of the car."

He decided to do as she said. There was something in her voice, something more commanding than usual. She told him to stand next to the hood, and he did so. What happened next, however, was quite a shock. She reached her hands forward and undid his trousers!

He reached his hands down to stop her, but she slapped them away. He couldn't figure out what was happening, and he didn't like it one bit. She pulled his trousers and underpants down, leaving him completely bare! She then pushed him forward, making him lean over the hood of the car.

"Hey, what's the – OW!"

As an answer, officer Taylor had slapped his bottom quite hard. She gave him a dozen more slaps, all harder than the previous. "Isn't it obvious? No matter what we do, it doesn't seem to affect your speeding. Well, I believe that a sore bottom might change that!"

He tried to get up, but she held him down with her left hand while her right hand worked on his bottom.

"Hey, we're still by the roadside! Anyone passing by can see this! Let me up!"

"Not a chance. Let them see. And you're not getting up until I say so."

And she kept spanking until his bottom was nice and pink. She bent down to his trousers, and Peter breathed a sigh of relief that it was over.

But to his surprise, she picked up his belt and stood back up. What was going on? Suddenly, he realized what she was planning. “No! Please, I've had enough, don't -”

“Obviously you haven't, or you'd realize that I'M the one that says when this is over. Perhaps a dose of the belt will make you see the errors of your ways.”

The belt whipped through the air, landing with a mighty CRACK! Then came several more. Peter laid across the hood of the car, too afraid of the consequences to stand up and too out of breath to speak.

Officer Taylor noticed that as Peter's bottom became redder, his behaviour and tone of voice bettered. Good, she thought. Her initial judgement had proven correct. This could prove to be quite a good way of dealing with this overgrown brat. Besides, he did have a cute butt.

By the time she put down the belt, Peter was crying hard. She helped him to his feet, and pulled his underpants and trousers back up. She gave him a hug to calm him down, and told him to get on his way. He eased his way down on the car seat, and officer Taylor delivered one last warning.

“Remember, all of the cops know to notify me if they catch you speeding. If that happens, I'll come round to your house with a hairbrush. Believe me, you don't want that to happen.”

A New Tutor (F/f story)

For some reason, my math scores really dropped the year I turned fourteen. Before that, I had gotten mostly A's and a few B's, and was quite happy. But that year, all I got C's or D's. It wasn't a new teacher that didn't like me; I had the same teacher as the previous years. It wasn't that I worked any less; I did the same amount of work as previously. But for some reason, my grades continued to drop. My parents freaked out at this, and since the exam was coming up and I was nowhere near prepared, they decided to hire me a tutor.

A few days later, Nicole showed up at our house. She was eighteen, tall and beautiful and really, really friendly. I liked her instantly. But she was also efficient. When we finished the introduction, we sat down in my room to work on the math. She picked up the book, gave me a couple of math problems and sat back waiting for me to finish them. After half an hour, she looked at what I had done, frowned her face slightly, showed me my mistakes and how to correct them, and gave me a couple of new ones. After a couple of hours, she told me it was enough for the day, and she took me out for ice cream.

This went on for a couple of days, and every time I handed her the work I had done, the frown got deeper and deeper. She picked up a pen and pointed at the sheet I had worked on earlier that day.

"Take a look here. Some parts here, you don't know what you're doing, you're just guessing how to address the problem, and some places, you just skip it. And yet, at other times," she moved the pen further down the page, "you show that you really understand the subject. In fact, it seems to come naturally.

Considering the fact that just last year, you got mostly A's, I can come to only one conclusion. Math comes instinctively to you, you're naturally good at it. You would therefore spend less time working on it than your classmates, so you're not used to working for your grades. Then, the math got too hard, your natural skills weren't enough anymore. You needed to work, something you're not used to – at least in math." She tapped the pen at the desk. "Therefore, I have only one solution. Work harder," she said with a smile. She handed me the book and told me to start studying.

A few days passed, and Nicole kept frowning. At last, one Thursday afternoon, she sat me down again. "You still won't study as hard as you're supposed to. You still think you can cruise through the tests, but you can't anymore."

"I try, but it's hard!" I said defensively. I really liked Nicole, and hated when she criticised me.

"You're just not motivated. Stand up." As I did so, she sat up in her chair, straightening out the front of her skirt. "Now come over here." Something in her voice made me nervous, so I approached cautiously. When I got within her reach, her hands immediately moved to the front of my jeans, and she started unzipping them.

I was too surprised to move, and another shock came as she grabbed my arm and pulled me forward. As I landed across her lap, I felt disoriented. What was happening?

The answer came right away, as a sharp smack landed on my left cheek. Then another smack, on my right cheek, followed by a lot more. Nicole was spanking me!

I tried to stand up, but Nicole put her left hand at the small of my back, holding me down, while her right hand kept working on my rear end. The smacks were light, so they didn't sting much, but there was a lot of them, and the heat built up. Before long, I was kicking my legs. "Ow! Let me up."

"Not yet, sweetie," Nicole told me, still spanking me. "You need to learn that you can't cruise through class anymore. You need to start studying." I put my hand back, trying to block the spanking, but Nicole grabbed my wrist without even slowing down.

By now, my butt hurt like crazy, and I started crying. Nothing I could do would make her stop, so I just lay across her lap waiting for her to finish. But the sting was unbearable, and the spanking seemed to go on forever.

But then, after what seemed like a year of stinging slaps on my delicate rear end, Nicole suddenly stopped. "Have you learned your lesson now?"

"Y-yes," I hiccupped.

"Are you going to study hard now?"

"Yes, pleeeease stop spanking me, I've learned my lesson!"

Satisfied with my answer, Nicole helped me to my feet. I danced around on the floor, trying in vain to rub the sting out of my poor bottom. After a few minutes, I realized that my jeans were still around my knees, so I pulled them up, letting out a hiss of pain as the rough fabric touched my sore bottom. Nicole sent me a look that said "I feel sorry for you but you deserved it". She then came up to me and gave me a hug to let me know that the punishment was over. As I eased slowly down on the hard wooden seat, she handed me the book and told me to try again.

Neighbour's Girl (F/m story)

Robert was standing in the corner, jeans and underwear around his ankles and hands on his head. He swallowed nervously as he thought about his girlfriend, sitting in the chair behind him, most likely with a scowl on her face. Sooner or later – he had no idea when – she would call him out of the corner, pull him over her knee and spank his bottom. From time to time he would hear her turning the page of the pocketbook she always brought out at times like this. But he knew she was keeping one eye on him, and should he dare move, he would regret it.

With nothing to do but think, his memories brought him back twelve years, to the bright spring day that a fourteen-year-old boy decided to sneak into his neighbour's house.


The neighbours had a girl, four years his senior, named Sarah. Robert had never known Sarah much growing up; the difference in age had been too great. But the last year or so, it had slowly dawned on Robert that a tall, blonde beauty was living less than thirty feet away.

From seeing the washing lines outside his neighbour's house, Robert knew that Sarah usually wore small, black panties, and quite sexy ones too. It was the thought of getting his hands on a pair of those panties that led him to sneak in through her window one day.

Since her parents were at the movies and Sarah herself was at a friend's house, there was little chance of getting caught, but he knew that the risk increased for every minute he spent there. He allowed himself a quick glance around the room before starting his search. Several bookshelves, with romance novels side by side with Physics textbooks. A few posters of bands he had never heard of. And a smell quite unlike anything he had experienced before. Sweetly feminine, yet strong.

He quickly went to the first drawer he could find. He opened it slowly, as if uncovering an old Egyptian treasure. The drawer was full of t-shirts. Not the treasure he had hoped for, so he moved on to the next drawer.

Shorts. Slightly more interesting, but not jackpot. He picked one of them up and felt it for a second.

The third drawer contained magazines. He was starting to get impatient. Were was this girl keeping her panties?

He looked around the room, and headed towards the wardrobe. He should have gone straight for it, he realized. He opened it, and examined the small drawers. The first one contained socks. In the second drawer, he found what he was looking for. He picked up the top one and closed the drawer. And now -

"What the hell do you think you're doing!?"

He spun around, suddenly face to face with the angry scowl of the girl whose room he had invaded.

There are not many things you can say to calm a girl down when she finds you in her room, clutching a pair of her panties, and Robert knew it. He decided to find an excuse, ANY excuse, but when he opened his mouth, nothing came out.

She leaned forward. "Robert, is it?" Sarah stepped forward, grabbing the hand holding the panties. "And what were you planning to do with THESE, brat?" He opened his mouth again, but she cut him off. "No, don't bother, I think I can imagine what you were planning to do with them." She grabbed his ear and dragged him over to the bed, were she sat down.

Robert suddenly realized that he was face down over her lap, and his fears were confirmed when the first smack landed against his jeans.

"Trying to sneak into my room to steal my panties, are you? Well, luckily, Sarah Miller knows EXACTLY how to get a boy to mind his manners." She started lecturing him as the smacks landed.

"You're a naughty little pervert, but trust me, by the time I'm through with you, you won't even THINK about doing something like this again!"

The smacks weren't too hard, especially over his jeans, but they were fast, and pretty soon, the sting was building up. Robert had been to shocked to protest before, but the pain soon brought him out of his trance.

"OW! Please, I didn't mean to, I -"

"Didn't mean to!? You didn't MEAN to break into my room? What, you just suddenly woke up in another house, brat? I don't think I believe that."

His bottom burning, Robert started kicking his legs, but Sarah was holding on to his torso, and was more than strong enough to keep him in place.

After what seemed to Robert to be an incredibly long time, but what was probably just a few minutes, Robert found himself standing up again. Relieved, his hands went back to rub the sting away, but Sarah just slapped them away.

"Oh no, we're far from done here."

She grabbed his ear again and dragged him over to the far corner of the room, were she quickly pulled down his trousers and underwear. Robert protested meekly, but Sarah slapped his bottom half a dozen times to teach him who was in charge.

"Now, you stand there with your nose in the corner until I say otherwise, with your hands on your head AT ALL TIMES, or trust me, you'll be sorry." She left the room.

Robert would later realize that nothing was keeping him in the room, and that he could have jumped back out the window and gotten away, but at the time, he was too intimidated by the tall girl with the piercing eyes and the stinging hand to even consider running.

Sarah was soon back in the room. Robert wanted to know why she had left, but he didn't dare turn around to look. After a few minutes, she asked him to turn around and face her.

In her hand, she was clutching a small, wooden object. A ping-pong paddle. If someone had told Robert that he would ever find the flimsy-looking object intimidating, he would have thought them mad, but at the moment, there was nothing he feared more in the world. "Please," he said as he backed into the wall, both hands clasping his bottom protectively. "You can't be thinking of -"

"Of what? Using this on you?" She held up the paddle. "Giving you a good a long spanking with this thing until you are crying your eyes out and promising to never, ever act like a disgusting little pervert again? That IS what I'm thinking of." She patted her lap. "Come over here."

Robert shook her head, trying desperately to back through the wall.

Her eyes narrowed. "You get over here this instant, young man!"

Robert waddled forward as quickly as he could with his jeans still around his ankles, and lowered himself over her thighs. She positioned him so that his bottom was as high as possible and his head was low to the ground, and started rubbing the paddle in circles around on his bottom.

"Now, I want you to ask me for this spanking."

"What?" He couldn't believe his ears.

"Ask me if I will spank you. And ask me nicely, you hear?"

Robert just stared up at her. She didn't expect him to -

"Or," she continued, "I could go get one of my father's belt, and you can get a dozen of that when I'm done with the paddle. Your choice."

Robert took a deep breath. "Please give me a good, hard spanking, Sarah."

"With pleasure," Sarah said and lifted the paddle.

The first stroke rang out like a gunshot, and was quickly followed by a scream from the red-bottomed teen. The second, third and fourth stroke soon followed. The paddle moved quickly, landing on one cheek, then the other. It didn't take long for Robert to break down crying.

By this time, Sarah had stopped lecturing him, trusting the paddle to speak for her. Robert wouldn't have heard a word she said anyway.

Robert kicked, he cried, he squirmed, he sobbed, and he pleaded, but nothing he did could stop the descent of the paddle or get him off Sarah's lap.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Sarah laid the paddle down.

"Are you going to be a good boy from now on, Robert?"

"Y-yes," came the sobbing reply.

"Good."

Sarah helped the sobbing boy to his feet, and hugged him for a while: the punishment was over, and his crimes were forgiven. When he had calmed down, he eased into his jeans and left.


Robert was brought back to the present by the voice of his girlfriend telling him to turn around. Sarah was sitting on the bed, holding a ping-pong paddle and patting her lap. It wasn't the same paddle, of course; that one had been worn out and thrown away long ago. But there was still something nostalgic about the implement.

As Robert laid himself over her lap carefully, he thought about how strange life could be. Who would have guessed that their emotional first meeting would turn to friendship, and later, more? He only wished she would put away the paddle for good, but she said she would do that only when she felt he didn't need a good spanking once in a while.

Sarah patted his bottom lightly with the paddle. "Now young man, you know the drill. Ask me nicely."

Spanking the maid (f/F story)

 "What do you say, Mary?" Sally asked, grinning at the maid. "Do we have a deal?"

Mary nodded at the teenager, blushing with shame. This day had not gone well.

She'd slipped away from work for a quick smoking break, confident that the master and mistress would not catch her in the act. And she was right; they were in the other end of the house. But she had forgotten about their teenaged daughter.

Sally had given the maid a simple enough choice; either she would tell her parents about the maid's misdeeds, or she would punish her herself.

"What do you mean, punish?" Mary asked.

Sally smiled the evillest smile Mary had ever seen. "I'm going to put you over my knee and spank you."

Mary paled a little at that. "You can't! You're a child."

"True, I can't force you over my knee. I don't have to. Either you agree to my punishment, or I'll tell my parents."

Mary thought quickly about her choice. If her master found out, she would most likely be fired. She couldn't afford to lose her job now.

Besides, how bad could a spanking from this girl be?

Sally sat down on the wooden chair in the kitchen, waving Mary towards her. She patted her lap, and the older girl lowered herself over it. Mary blushed as she felt her skirt being flipped up, exposing her black panties. She was over the lap of a girl ten years younger than her, about to have her bottom spanked. She didn't want to believe it.

Suddenly, she felt a couple of hard slaps to her cheeks.

"Ow!" She cried out. "That hurts!"

"Of course it hurts," Sally replied. "It's a spanking. That's the point."

The spanks came hard and fast, and Mary squirmed a little in shock. She wouldn't have believed the skinny little girl capable of this.

Sally grinned to herself. Seeing the woman spread over her lap, squirming around as she slapped her buttocks; it was almost too good to be true! She wanted to pinch herself, to convince herself she wasn't dreaming, but decided against it. If it WAS a dream, she didn't want to wake up. So she pinched Mary instead.

As Sally slipped her fingers into the waistband of Mary's panties, she cried out. "Please! Not on my bare bottom!"

Sally gave her a look that utterly failed to be sympathetic. "It's not a real spanking if it's not on the bare, Mary."

Mary wanted to stand up, to stop this whole charade, but decided against it. It was still better than losing her job.

When Sally was satisfied with the redness of Mary's bottom, she told her to get up.

"If I catch you smoking again, it'll be the brush. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am, I understand." From now on, she would make sure she was alone before lighting up.

She glared as the girl skipped away. She would have her revenge somehow. Sooner or later.

All fun and games (m/f story)

Sally had never had a better friend than Alex. The two children had grown up right next door to each other, and spent most of their time playing. Even as they grew older, they had not grown apart. That day, they had decided to play prisoner with each other. Sally was the prisoner, and Alex was chasing her down. She was quick, running off into the woods to escape. He was quicker.

He'd brought a small jump rope, and as he caught up with her, he tied her to a tree. She squirmed around a little, pretending she was trying to escape. They stood there, looking at each other for a while.

"So, what happens now?" Sally said, after a while. She hadn't read as many prison stories as he had.

"Well, let's see. The prisoners are forced to eat water and bread," he said, staring off into the woods as he tried to think of what to do next. All the information was in a big, chaotic mess, and it took a while to sort it all out.

"We don't have any water and bread. And besides, what's so bad about bread?"

"Yeah, I never got that either." He rubbed the back of his head as he tried to think of something else. "Sometimes, they're chained up."

"I'm already tied up," she pointed out.

"Good point." He stared off into the woods again. "Some of them are whipped," he told her. Obviously, he couldn't whip her, so he had to think of something else. He was still staring off into the woods, so he couldn't see that Sally was thinking.

"Okay," she said at last.

"What?" He turned around and looked at her, having already forgotten what he had said.

"I said, 'okay'. You could whip me."

A strange silence followed.

"Yeah, well, we don't have a whip." He thought for a second. "I could spank you. Spanking is kind of like whipping, isn't it?" She didn't answer, and he looked at her strictly. "Turn around, prisoner!"

She turned towards the tree, replacing the rope so that she was still 'tied up'. She couldn't quite explain the butterflies in her stomach as she did so.

He walked up behind her, lifting her long t-shirt to reveal her green shorts. He held her shirt with his left hand, and lifted his right hand. He'd never been spanked, and he had never seen anyone get spanked, but he'd seen it in movies and comics. It couldn't be that hard, could it?

He delivered a smack to her left cheek, carefully. He had never done this before, and didn't want to do it wrong. It didn't seem right. They spanked harder in the movies, didn't they? A sharp smack to her right cheek. That was better, he told himself.

He gave her a couple of slaps to each cheek, increasing the force, and she let out a small yelp. That sounded about right. When you were spanked, you were supposed to cry out.

He went at it for a while, spanking first one cheek, then the other. Sally furrowed her brows in thought. Weren't spankings supposed to be more painful than this? And did they always feel this good?

After a while, Alex noticed that her bottom jiggled as he smacked it. He was intrigued; he'd never seen anyone's bottom jiggle before. He wanted a closer look. He had just grabbed her shorts, and was about to pull them down when he heard a sharp intake of breath. He looked up, expecting Sally to be glaring down at him, but she wasn't. She was biting her lip, looking down at him nervously, but she wasn't protesting. He decided to go ahead and pulled down her shorts, and with them, her panties. Her bare bottom was poking out at him, but still, she didn't protest. He lifted his hand again.

Sally felt the cool wind upon on her unprotected bottom. This was all very strange. Again, he slapped her bottom, and that strange feeling was back, that itching feeling inside her. It was strange, but not unpleasant.

He kept spanking her, his hand leaving little pink marks all over her bottom. She let out a few more yelps, but not much more. She looked over her shoulders at him. "You know, it's not really a whipping if you use your hand." She wasn't entirely sure why she said it.

He thought about it. How was he going to find a whip in the middle of the forest? Actually, he wasn't sure how to find one in the middle of the city, either. Didn't you have to be an archaeologist to own one of those?

He looked around for something to use, and settled on a small branch. He picked it up and whipped it through the air. That didn't sound right. He picked off the leaves and tried again. Much better.

He turned to Sally to present his new discovery, and found that she was already staring at it with her eyes wide open. It wasn't in fear, though. He'd seen her eyes staring in fear, like that time her mother caught them with that stolen chocolate cake. He was probably looking pretty scared at the time, himself. The point was, she wasn't staring at the branch in fear. He wasn't sure what it was, as he'd never seen that look in her eyes before, but it wasn't fear.

Sally saw him pick up the stick and whip it through the air, and knew that he was about to use it on her. Why didn't that scare her? It would probably hurt. It sounded like it would hurt. But she wasn't scared of it. Why not?

He brought his new whip down on her bottom, and a thin, pink line appeared, darker than the pink marks already decorating her rear end. She cried out, but didn't tell him to stop. He was confused, both by her actions and by his own feelings. He lifted the whip again.

Sally could feel tears on her face, and her bottom was stinging, but she didn't want it to end. Not yet. She heard the branch whip through the air again, and a sudden sting. It was unpleasant, and yet it wasn't.

He had no idea how many strokes he gave her with that thing, but it was a lot. In a way, he was a little disappointed when she told him to stop. He wanted to continue forever. But he put the whip down, and she pulled her shorts up, stepping out of the jumping rope.

They stared at each other for a while, neither saying a word. She dried her tears, and they walked back home. Sally was clutching the branch as if it was her new favourite toy. She could hide it in her room, and if she was careful, no one would find it.

The Baron's daughter (f/F story)

 "You must be Claire Hulme," the Baron said, holding out his hand. While shook it, she took a moment to study her new employer. Baron Laney was a short man, but she could tell there was great strength in his arms, should he care to use it. Potentially a very scary man, but there was something in his eyes that told her he wasn't; he didn't have the strength of character.

After a short meeting, where she was instructed in her new duties, Claire was taken to meet the girl she would be responsible for, during the months that the Baron was out of the country. She knew a few things about her; her name was Katherine, after a local saint. She was in her late teens. And she had been quite a bother for her previous caretakers. That didn't matter. Claire never feared challenges.

Katherine was in the training room, practising her fencing. Claire frowned; she had always found the sport quite unladylike. One of the servants informed the lady that the new caretaker was here, and Katherine removed her mask, stepping over to greet the newcomer.

And as soon as she looked at her face, Claire was struck by how unlike her father the girl was. There was no uncertainty, no weakness, in her eyes. She had a very dominating personality, and she didn't care to hide it. Claire found herself thankful that she didn't seem to have inherited her father's physical strength.

Later, Claire was in her room, reading a book, when she suddenly noticed Katherine leaning against the mantelpiece, grinning at her. She frowned; she hadn't heard the girl knock.

"What are you doing in here, girl?"

"Father has left," Katherine said, taking a step forward, still that wolf-like grin on her face. The Baron went away that morning, and wouldn't be back for weeks. "From now on, I'm in charge."

"I beg your pardon, young lady!?"

"I'm in charge," the girl repeated, as if talking to a particularly dim servant – or a child. "You do as I say."

"Your father left me in charge, girl," Claire said, trying to regain the authority that she could feel slipping from her fingers under those cold, blue eyes. "You're going to obey ME, not the other way around."

"Oh?" Katherine said, raising an eyebrow. "We'll see about that."

The book fell to the floor as Katherine grabbed her caretaker's wrist. Claire found herself on her feet, then off them again as Katherine sat down on the bed, pulling the struggling woman over her knee.

Caught by the neigbour (F/m story)

The whole thing started with Jacob, by his window, gazing at the stars. He quite enjoyed staring at the little lights blinking so far overhead. This night, however, he found something else to draw his attention.

The closest neighbour of Jacob and his parents was Beth. Beth was around thirty years, and Jacob had always found her very attractive. She was a tall, shapely blonde with a nice smile and an even nicer body. Her bedroom window faced Jacob’s, but his was on the third floor; hers was on the first. Jacob had never given the window much thought; she kept the curtains closed most of the time, so there was rarely anything to see.

Tonight, however, was different.

Jacob realized three things as he looked down at his shapely neighbour’s window. First of all, that most of her clothes were at the floor, as she tried on outfit after outfit. Second, that he was too high up to get a good look at what was happening. Thirdly, that outside Beth’s window, there were some bushes that would give him a much better view. He hurried outside as quietly as he could, as to not wake up his parents.

When he got to the bushes, Jacob found to his surprise and joy that what little clothes Beth had been wearing, had joined the rest at the floor. Jacob was no stranger to the shadier sites of the web, and had seen quite a few girls wearing very little clothes, and hordes of girls wearing none at all. But he had found very little that could compete with his neighbour. She had the most wonderfully round, full bottom he had ever seen, and he could watch this all day.

After she had faced away from him for some time, looking into her closet, giving Jacob a perfect view of her rear end, she turned to pick up some clothes that was lying on the bed. Now, Jacob could view a triangular patch of hair that made his erection even larger. He lifted his gaze to concentrate on her breasts, but noticed something different; her eyes. They were large, blue and beautiful. They were cold, with just a hint of anger. And they were looking straight at him.

Beth leaned forward, opened the window a little, and whispered coldly to him; "Go inside the house and wait for me in the living room. NOW." The smile that always danced at her lips was gone, and Jacob didn’t even consider not doing as she asked.

Attitude (m/f story)

"Can you come straight home from school today, Ann? I need some help outside."

Ann sighed. Staying at her brother's place was a lot better than with her parents, but even he nagged her. "I was going to go to the mall!"

"You can go afterwards. And weren't you there yesterday?"

"It's a big mall," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Well, you're helping me today, so deal. And I'd lose the attitude if I were you, missy."

"Oh, fuck off." Seeing the look on his face, she realized her mistake just a second too late.

"Come here." He patted his lap.

"Chris, I didn't mean it, I-"

"I don't have time for this. Come here."

"Now, if you'll just -"

"Do you want me to get the paddle, young lady?"

She didn't. Slowly, she made her way over to her scowling brother. She lifted her skirt up and lowered herself over his lap, as she had so many times before. He lowered her panties and started spanking, wasting no time on a warm-up; she was going to school soon, and didn't have a lot of time.

One hand around her waist to keep her from squirming away, he spanked hard and fast, covering her bottom in hard slaps.

"Are you going to lose that attitude, Ann?"

"Ow! Yes, I promise."

"And you're going to go straight home from school today?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Are you going to watch your language in the future?"

"Yes, sir," she said through the tears rolling down her face.

When he was satisfied that she had learned her lesson, he helped her to her feet. She stood there, jumping from foot to foot as she tried to rub the sting away. When she thought he was far away that he wouldn't hear her, she let out a small, silent "Bastard."

He turned around, and from the look on his face, she realized that she hadn't been as silent as she thought she had been.

"I went easy on you," he said as he dragged her over his knee, "because I thought you'd might like to sit somewhat comfortably during your school day. I guess I was wrong."

Ann didn't think he could spank harder than he had during her first spanking, but she soon found out just how wrong she had been. She kicked her legs, pleading for the spanking to stop, but he ignored her. He held her down and kept smacking until he felt she was sorry enough

He helped her to her feet and marched her to a corner.

"School's in thirty minutes. You're going to stay here, hands on your head and butt on display, for fifteen, and I'll drive you. If you move or talk at ALL during your corner time, you'll be getting the belt when you get home. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." He gave her one last slap before leaving her to think.

A Tempting Target (M/F story)

 Brian had always loved the clean-up after a party. When his friends had parties, he was the guy that always stayed behind to help. He knew this made him strange, but he had accepted it long ago. It was just something about how it was all evidence that a good time had been had, and how fun the next party would be. He couldn't explain it, but he never felt the need to.

Usually, there were a couple of people willing to help out, but tonight, it was just him and the host. The host was Steph, a small redhead that he'd known for a few years. 'Steph' was short for Stephanie, he knew that, but no one ever called her that. It was Steph, and had always been.

It had been a pool party, and they were both still dressed in their swimwear. This made Brian feel somewhat strange; in addition to being cute, Steph had the most well-shaped rear end he'd seen, and in the tiny bikini she was wearing, he got more than an eyeful. He tried to be covert about his staring, but he had a feeling she could tell.

They were placing the last remnants of the beer in the fridge when it happened. Steph was bending over to place something on the bottom shelf, leaving Brian with the best view of his life, when he stepped forward to give that cute little bottom a good smack. It was irresistible.

She jumped to her feet and faced him, and Brian got ready for her rage. To his surprise, she didn't yell at him or slap his face or anything, just studied him, before saying, “Don't start something you don't intend to finish.”

Fair's fair (F/ff and ff/F story)

Mary Benton placed her hands at her hips as she glared at her two daughters. "What have your father and I told you about these?" She held up the pack of cigarettes that she'd taken from them a few minutes before.

Corinne looked at the floor, unable to face her mother's wrath. Leanne held her gaze, but didn't answer. When they'd lit up, they had thought that their mother was out shopping. They hadn't expected her to get home so fast, and they hadn't anticipated how smelly the cigarettes were.

Mrs Benton looked from one to the other. "I had expected better from you. You're both in your teens, you'll soon be adults, and you'd better start acting like it soon." She folded her hands across her chest. "Right. Into the living room. You're both getting a paddling."

They'd known it was coming, but it was still scary to hear the words spoken aloud. Corinne looked tear-eyed at her mother. "Please, not the paddle! We won't do it again, honest!" Leanne just rose to her feet; she knew that trying to talk their way out of their punishment was useless.

"Get going, Corinne," Mary said, giving her youngest daughter a swat when she didn't move fast enough. Corinne jumped into the air, giving off a little yelp. Leanne rolled her eyes at her younger sister's theatrics.

Mrs Benton got the paddle from the drawer in the hallway, patting it against her palm. "Right. Which one of you will be first?"

Leanne looked over at her sister, who was trembling and biting her lip. She sighed, wondering why her sister had to be such a baby every time they got punished. She stepped forward.

"Raise your skirt and bend over the chair," Mrs Benton told her oldest daughter. Leanne did as instructed, leaning forward, placing her hands on the seat of the chair and pushing her bottom out as far as she could manage. No use earning extras.

"I think ten strokes should do it. Brace yourself."

In Her Office (F/M story)

There was nothing in the world I hated more than being asked by my wife to stop by her office. My wife, Diane, worked at a small office in the middle of the city. All of her employees were young, intelligent good-looking women. And every single one of them knew that Diane spanked me.

Most of the time, Diane punished me in the privacy of our own home. She bared my bottom, pulled me over her lap and smacked me with her hairbrush until I was truly sorry. But sometimes, if she learned of my misbehaviour while she was at work, or really wanted to humiliate me, she would ask me to stop by her office. Today was such a day.

As I entered the office, the first girl I saw was Karen. Karen is probably my least favourite person in the whole world. She’s a redhead that looks like a cat toying with a mouse. She’s an old friend of my wife, and has not only seen me punished at work, but at home as well. Once, when my wife felt I had been too rude to her guest, she had even gotten to punish me herself. Whenever she saw me, her face turned into a gloating sneer.

Karen turned around and shouted towards my wife’s office. “Diane, your husband’s here!” It was clear that she wanted the entire office to know.

Diane marched towards me, clearly irritated. “Do you know what you’ve done?” she asked me. I shook my head; I didn’t have a clue. “Do you remember my friend Alice, the policewoman?” I nodded. “Earlier today, she called me about the speeding ticket you got last month. Remember that?” I nodded; that spanking had been one of the worst I had received. “Remember how you promised to pay it before it became a problem?” I nodded. “Well, if Alice hadn’t intervened today, that ticket would become a problem.”

Not wasting a second, she grabbed my ear and dragged me into the office. I heard the snickering of the girls in the office, and a surprised gasp. This was strange, but I had other things of my mind, so I didn’t think too much of it.

When we got to her office, my wife told me to drop my trousers and underpants and stand in the corner. She sat down, taking a few phone calls while I stood there waiting. By this point, one or more of the girls would usually find some excuse to come into the room while I stood there with my rear on display.

Today, it was Grace, a tall blonde who entered the office to deliver a report she had completed. She handed to my wife, and stood there for a while making small talk. I could almost feel her eyes on my bottom.

After fifteen minutes in the corner, my wife called me over. She rolled her office chair back to allow free movement of her arms, picked up the hairbrush from her purse, and pulled me over her knee.

She wasted no time with warm-ups or lecturing, but started smacking my rear end with the hairbrush. The hairbrush was small, covering very little area, so Diane compensated by smacking fast and covering my entire bottom.

Diane was a firm believer of quick punishment, and soon, I was crying loudly. I had started kicking my legs, and begging for her to let me up. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Me still draped over her lap, she called out for whomever it was to enter.

In came Grace, smiling as she saw me lying with my pink, bare bottom in the air. With her was a short brunette I had never seen before. Grace looked at my wife. “Diane, it turns out Michelle here has never heard about how you deal with Benjamin. I was wondering if she could stay here and watch?”

“Were you planning to stay as well?” My wife said knowingly.

“That was the idea, yes,” Grace replied.

“I don’t see why not,” she said. When she was sure her audience were sitting comfortably, she continued the spanking.

She spanked even harder than before, taking more pride in her work when she had an audience. I tried my best to remain collected when others were watching, but soon, I was crying and kicking my legs again. I heard the new girl gasp in amazement. “Wow! His butt’s so red!”

My wife laughed. “With a strong hairbrush and a stronger will, it’s not hard. Come, feel his bottom.” Michelle walked forward, and gently poked my bottom. Then, she slowly rubbed it.

“It’s really warm,” she said, sounding surprised.

“Do you want to try this?” My fears were confirmed when the hairbrush rubbed my bottom again. Michelle gave me a couple of light pats, trying to work up the courage. The pats grew harder until they turned into smacks, and soon after, she was laying it on my poor bottom as hard as Diane did.

“That’s enough,” Diane laughed. The hairbrush changed hands again, and when Michelle had sat back down, Diane continued.

All resistance I had due to my audience was gone, and I was shamelessly kicking my legs and begging for the spanking to stop. Luckily, soon after, the spanking stopped.

As Diane directed me back into the corner, I heard the girls going back to work. I knew that at least one of my wife’s employees would come into the room to see my red bottom, but since there was little I could do about it, I didn’t think too much about it.

I heard my wife whistling silently near me, clearly satisfied about a job well done.