Asking for a punishment (M/f story)

Kate had no idea how long she had been standing outside her older brother's door, too afraid to open the door and walk in. She was scared, and she felt she had good reason to be. She lifted her hand towards the door handle, and watched it tremble and fall to her side again. She was going to go into his room and tell him she wanted a spanking.

Well, wanted was not the right word. She had hated every single spanking she had ever gotten, and she didn't think she would feel any different about this one. They hurt, and they caused her to cry, nto mention how humiliating it was to have your older brother pull you over his knee and bare your bottom, before slapping it for a long, long, LONG time.

And she was about to go and ask for it. She really needed her head examined.

She noticed that she had opened the door and stepped into his room. Rich looked up from his book, and she could see he became quite worried when he saw how pale and nervous she was. "What's wrong?"

"I..." she said, but trailed off. She took a deep breath and tried again. "I'm not sure how to say it, but I think I need a spanking."

A few seconds passed as he just looked at her. He nodded towards the bed. "Sit down and tell me all about it."

She sat down. She choked on her words, so he sat down next to her and put his hand on her shoulder. She smiled gratefully at him. He always knew how to calm her down when she was upset.

Rich was feeling quite unsettled. He knew his sister could be quite melodramatic, and that this was probably not a serious, dangerous problem, put the possibility was there, and he didn't like it. "What's wrong?"

"You know Clarissa, right?"

"That dark-haired friend of yours?" he answered.

She nodded. "That's the one. The thing is, last week I borrowed one her CDs. One that she really, really liked."

He felt his heart rate decrease. If this was about a CD, then thankfully, it wasn't serious. "And?"

"Well, I was trying to get it out of the case when I kind of, sort of, accidentally... broke it."

"Have you told your friend?"

She nodded. "I told her yesterday, yeah. She got really upset, and said she would never speak to me again."

He tried to hide his smile. Kate and her friends told each other that just about once a week, and they always acted as if it was the end of the world. "So, how are you feeling?"

"Guilty," she responded. "I broke her favourite CD. My stomach hurts, and I can't stop thinking about it." She looked at him. "That's why I came here. I want you to remove the guilt."

"Which is why you asked for a spanking," he offered.

"Yeah," she said, blushing slightly. "Whenever I screw up, I feel really bad about it. Then you spank me, and it's like all my guilt vanishes. My butt hurts, sure, but my stomach doesn't. My head doesn't. My heart doesn't."

He nodded. "I see. Let me ask you a question. Do you remember a few months back, when you got caught shoplifting?"

She blushed. "Yes."

"When I got you home, what did I do?"

She blushed even deeper. "You pulled me over your knee and spanked my butt really, really hard," she said, pouting a little.

"And more importantly, what did you promise me?"

She thought back. "That I would never, ever earn another spanking," she said after a few seconds.

"And now you're in my room, asking for one."

"I told you, I feel really guilty," she said, squirming.

"You know what else will remove that guilt? You know what else will make you feel good about yourself?"

She shook her head.

"Apologizing. Why don't you call your friend and tell her that you're sorry? You must know how phones work; you never seem to put the darn thing down."

"What if she still hates me? What if she won't forgive me?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "That's what you already think, right? No harm done. On the other hand, if she IS willing to forgive you, then everything is fine. Worth a shot, right?"

She sat for a while, thinking. What he was saying, made sense. She could try calling Clarissa and apologizing. Why not?

"I can't," she told him. "I just can't. I'm too scared."

He sighed. "Look," he told her. "It was brave of you to come here and ask me for punishment. It was brave of you to admit you had done wrong. Now, I want you to use some of that bravery to call her."

She shook her head.

"If I spank you, that won't fix your CD OR your friendship. You'll still be sitting here worrying about your friend, but you'll do it with a sore bottom. Calling her won't fix your CD either, but it might fix the friendship."

She still shook her head. "Please," she said. "Just do it."

He sighed. "All right," he said. "If you really want me to spank you, go and get the bath brush."

Her face turned pale, and her eyes widened. "The brush? Can't you just spank me with your hand? Please, Rich, I don't like the brush. It stings like crazy."

"I won't do this unless I really believe you want it, Kate." He nodded towards the door. "Now, go out that door, and don't come back unless you're carrying either the brush or your phone."

He watched her get up on shaking knees and leave the room. She never seemed to remember just how much spankings hurt, just how much she cried while she was over his knee, just how earnestly she pleaded for the spanking could stop. He, on the other hand, could.

She entered the door, clutching the brush with both hands as if she was afraid it would fly up and attack her. He knew he hated it when she used that thing on her. It wouldn't be a good punishment tool if she didn't.

She handed him the brush, and he sat up on the bed, patting his lap. "Get those jeans down and get over here."

She started to pull down her tight jeans, wriggling her hips back and forth to get them down. Underneath, she was wearing a pair of light blue panties. Slowly, she stepped forward and leaned over his lap. He pulled her forward, positioning her to make sure her bottom was as high up as he could get it.

"A quick warm-up over your panties before I use the brush," he told her as he lifted his hand. "Unless you'd rather have the phone call?"

She shook her head, and he started the spanking.

Kate cried out as the first smacks landed against her bottom. She thought she'd been ready, but she wasn't. She never was.

Rich spanked hard and fast, moving from to cheek to cheek in a flurry of smacks. He preferred to get these punishments over with quickly; he didn't want to spank her any longer than necessary. "I want you to think about why you're being spanked, Kate. You've been careless with other people's possessions, and you're paying the price for it now."

She just whimpered, her head against the bed.

Before long, her bottom had turned a light pink, and he decided the warm-up was over. He pulled down her panties, rubbing her bottom to relieve some of the sting. He picked up the brush, patting it against her bottom.

"Are you ready for this?"

"Yes, Rich," she said, even though her voice revealed just how untrue that really was.

She cried out as the brush whistled through the air, slamming into her poor, unprotected bottom. Again and again, the brush landed, causing her to kick her legs and cry out with every stroke.

Before long, tears were rolling down her cheeks, and her bottom felt like it was being lit on fire. The pain was unbearable.

Rich listened to her sister's cries, and they cut deep. He didn't want to do this. He wanted to hold her, to comfort her, to tell her she was forgiven, but he couldn't. Not yet.

The cheeks in front of him turned from pink to red, and they were turning crimson when she arched her back, letting out a sob that sounded like it came from the deep parts of her soul. She began crying uncontrollably, and he knew he had broken through to her. The punishment was over. He could finally put the brush down.

He lifted his sister up in his arms, letting her cry into his shoulder as he sat on the bed, rubbing her back and whispering to her that everything was fine, she was forgiven, and the punishment was over.

When she had calmed down a bit, he laid her down on the bed, letting her rest. She fell asleep almost instantly, clutching the pillow like a teddy bear. She was a strange sight, lying on her stomach with her bare, red rear poking up into the air like that, but even the light touch of her panties would be too much on her well-punished bottom right now.

Of course, since she was currently sleeping on his bed, he would have to find some other place to read his book, but that was a small problem.

About an hour and a half later, a squealing teenager ran out to hug him.

"I'm guessing you've phoned Clarissa," he told her.

"Yup. She said I was forgiven, if I replace the CD as soon as I can afford it. I'm going over to her place, and we're going to hang out."

She'd replaced her tight jeans with a skirt, but she still couldn't stop herself from reaching back and robbing her sore bottom as she spoke.

"Well, behave, won't you? I don't want to use the bath brush again any time soon," he said as he swatted her backside.

She pouted. "Don't worry. I don't want that either."

Sweet-cheeks (F/F story)

Most of Christine’s day was as normal as any other. She had gotten up early in the morning, taken a quick shower, eaten a light breakfast, and given her half-asleep girlfriend Dana a quick kiss on the cheek on her way out the door. After that, she had spent many hours in her office, working overtime on the new project. The clock was six in the evening, it was already beginning to get dark, and soon, her workday would be over. By all accounts, a relatively normal day. What Christine didn’t know, was that it was about to become abnormal.

It started with a phone call from Dana. Dana was a tall blonde who always craved excitement. For the past five years, she had been the love of Christine’s life. And now, she had that mischievous tone in her voice she always had when she realized that excitement wasn’t coming, so she had to find it herself.

"Hey, how’s it going, Sweet-cheeks?"

Christine could feel her face blushing with embarrassment already. "Sweet-cheeks" was their own little codeword. When Dana used that nickname on her, it meant one thing, and one thing only. Dana wanted to play. And Christine discovered that so did she.

"The day is over soon. I’ll be home as soon as I can," she said. She couldn’t wait to get home to her girlfriend, for a quick hug, a long kiss and an even longer trip over her knee.

"No, don’t. I’ll come over, just wait in your office."

Christine frowned. Dana had never been in her office before. She had driven her to work and picked her up a couple of times, but she had never been inside. What did she want? And why has she used the codeword? Suddenly, with a jolt, she put two and two together. She exclaimed, a hint of desperation creeping into her voice: "Dana, you can’t! You can’t mean to…"

Dana cut her off. "I can, and I do. I’ll be over in half an hour. By then, you will have taken off your panties and placed them in your drawer. You will flip up that short, sexy skirt you’re wearing, and place that delicious bottom on your chair. You will sit there, feeling the seat on your naked bottom, thinking about how hot I will make your rear end tonight, and how hard sitting down will be tomorrow. Now, if you fail to do ANY of this, there will be consequences."

They ended the call. With a sigh, Christine rose to her feet, deciding to do as Dana had said. She was just glad that the building would be empty soon, as the last stragglers went home.

As she slipped off the small, white panties she always wore, Christine stopped to let her hands run over her bottom, thinking about what was about to happen. Christine smiled as she thought about her nickname. Sweet-cheeks. Christine didn’t like to brag, but she knew that the nickname was well chosen. She had a very cute bottom. Smooth and white, curvy, without being too fat, she had more than once been complimented on her derriere by her significant others. But none had shown as much interest in it as Dana.

When they first started dating, Christine had been surprised at how interested Dana was in her bottom. She let her gaze linger on it in public, and outright stared during more private moments. She let her hands run over it as often as she could, she grabbed it, pinched it, and a couple of times even slapped it. Christine had wondered why her bottom held such an interest to her.

Then came the day when Dana came forward with her unusual interest. The tall blonde, normally so fearless, outspoken and calm, was nervous. She moved her hands around, not sure where to place them, she stared down, unable to meet her lover’s gaze, and even stuttered at one point. She told her about her interest in spanking, an interest she had held for as long as she could remember. She told her about the others, the ones she had approached, who had been disgusted and left. She told her that she wanted to take Christine over her lap and spank those bare buttocks until they were red and sore.

Christine had been surprised, to put it mildly, but she decided that it was worth trying it at least once. It had hurt, that was true, but it was also strangely arousing, and the sex afterwards was the best she ever had. So she decided to try it again. And again. And again.

The next thing she knew, spanking had become an important part of their relationship. They had implements, a few costumes, and even the codeword.

"Sweet-cheeks", Christine mumbled to herself as she rubbed her bottom, standing in her office, waiting for her girlfriend. She shook her head, trying to wake up from the memories. If she was still standing there, out of position, when Dana arrived, there would be consequences. Christine had defied her girlfriend once before, and she did not want to repeat that mistake.

"Hey, Sweet-cheeks," Dana said as she gave her girlfriend a long kiss. Dana’s right hand went back to squeeze Christine's bared bottom, to ensure that she had followed her commands, to remind her of what was to come, and because she really wanted to. In her left hand, Dana held a shopping bag.

Satisfied that her commands had been followed to the letter, Dana opened the shopping bag and pulled out a paddle. It was a foot long, made of sturdy wood. It was polished by long use, and looked rather intimidating. Christine’s eyes grew wide as saucers.

"Where did you get that?" she whispered.

"I found it today in a garage sale. It was just lying there, lonely, so I knew I had to buy it. After all, we don’t have a paddle at home." That was true. They had a wooden spoon, an old leather belt, a big wooden hairbrush, and a riding crop, but no paddle. Dana held the paddle up, swinging it through the air a few times, listening to it whistling through the air. "Now I think it’s time for a certain naughty girl to bend over her desk."

Christine shook her head. "You can’t spank me HERE! Someone will hear!"

"Everyone’s gone home. It’s just you and me here," Dana replied with a grin.

"Well, they will see us!" Christine pointed towards the large windows, showing a large portion of the city. And revealing to most of the city what was going on inside.

"Yes. They will." Dana smiled as she looked over the darkening sky, the tall buildings as the lights appeared in the windows. "Think about it. Look at that sight. Dozens of buildings, hundreds of windows. You will never meet one of them. But if any of them should happen to see our way, they will remember what they see this day. They will remember us."

"Exactly! If we should happen to meet one of them, I’ll die from embarrassment!"

Dana laughed. "They’re too far away. Besides, Sweet-cheeks, if any one of them looks at your FACE, they have the wrong priorities." Christine blushed furiously. "Anyway, consider it our gift to the city."

Christine walked over to her desk, facing away from the windows. She flipped up the skirt as high as she could, revealing her flawless orbs. Dana, unable to help herself, let her hands run over them, pinching and squeezing. Christine shuddered with a mixture of light pain, strong anticipation, and burning desire. She could hear Dana pick up the paddle and lifting it in the air.

With a light smack, the first stroke landed. Dana looked at Christine’s bottom, still white as snow, and from her complete lack of reaction, it was clear that the first stroke was too light. Now, she had to find out how hard was hard enough. She was looking forward to it.

Again, the paddle landed, this time much harder. Christine threw her head up, biting her lip not to cry out. She knew the building was empty, but all the same, she feared someone would hear.

Another stroke. It was a strange sensation, thought Christine. Unlike their other implements, this could take both cheeks in one stroke, evening out the pain all over her bottom.

Wood whistling through the air met soft buttocks, and Christine let a small "Owiee!" escape her lips. Dana smiled. Christine made the cutest noises during a spanking. It made you just want to cuddle her. Or spank her some more, to keep the noises coming. Dana often chose the latter.

Another stroke, and Christine was shocked to discover she already had tears in her eyes. Normally, she could hold out much longer. But the paddle, hitting both cheeks, not letting one rest, was different. As the next stroke landed, she realized she liked it.

SMACK! "Ow, ow, ow," Christine complained. More of those adorable noises. Dana smiled. Her girlfriend was the cutest thing ever.

Another stroke. Dana realized that she was wet. As she held the paddle aloft, she saw that Christine was as well. That was good. If Christine didn’t enjoy their games, they would have to change them. But it was clear she liked this game.

As another stroke landed, Dana was already looking forward to discarding the paddle and ravishing her girlfriend. She began to think about kissing that sore bottom all better, licking every part of her girlfriend’s body that she could reach, climbing on top of her as her sore bottom was pressed into the bed, or the table, or whatever they were on at the time, producing more of those cute little yelps.

After the sound of the smack had echoed out, Dana started rubbing her girlfriend’s back. "How are you feeling, Sweet-cheeks?"

"Strange. It burns, but it’s a good burn. How many was that?"

"Ten," Dana replied as she lowered her hand, rubbing her girlfriend’s sore bottom. "Do you want to go home now?"

"Not yet. How about ten more?"

Dana stared at her in amazement. Christine had never requested MORE punishment. "Sweet-cheeks, your bottom is already sore. I don’t think you can take another ten strokes."

"Please, Dana," Christine said as she turned her head, her hair tussled, her eyes slightly red from crying. "Please. Ten more."

Dana picked up the paddle again.

Another stroke, as Dana watched the cute bottom flatten with the stroke of the paddle, before popping back out. She was already very red, and Dana wondered how her bottom would look at the end of the paddling.

The next stroke was hard. Dana wanted Christine to realize that ten strokes on an already sore bottom was too much. As Dana stood there, paddle in hand, waiting for a response, Christine turned her head, not saying anything, but the message in her eyes was clear as day. "Please continue."

As the next stroke landed, Christine cried out in pain. But Dana realized that it was a good cry, a cry of pleasure as much as from pain. She smiled. If she had not had the courage to talk to Christine that fateful day, or if Christine had been too weirded out to try, as all the others, they wouldn’t have this.

Another stroke, and Christine let out more of the cute little yelping noises. Dana felt herself growing wetter.

The next stroke was to the sit spots, and Christine wondered briefly how she would sit down at all tomorrow. Her entire bottom was stinging, and she knew it would keep doing that.

At the next stroke, both of Christine’s legs flew up as she tried to kick the pain away. She didn’t, but it felt good to try.

Another stroke, and Christine gripped the end of the desk so hard that her knuckles turned white. She wondered how her bottom looked. Probably not very good. It felt even worse. And at the same time, it felt wonderful.

The paddle landed again, and Christine cried out "I’m sorry!" She knew she didn’t have anything to be sorry about, it was just reflex, but she did it anyway.

The last stroke landed, and immediately, Dana pulled her girlfriend into a hug. As Christine, her own little Sweet-cheeks, cried into her shoulder, Dana rubbed her back. They stood there, in the office, just hugging, for about fifteen minutes. Neither of them said anything. They didn’t need to.

As they left the office, to go home to a night of passion, Dana asked if they should leave the paddle at the desk. "I’m sure your colleagues will find a use for it," she said as she let her hand wander under Christine’s skirt, rubbing her sore, panty-less bottom. Christine didn’t reply, just brattily stuck her tongue out at her, so Dana gave her a hard smack.

As she walked to the car, paddle in the bag in her left hand, her right hand rubbing her Sweet-cheeks’ sweet cheeks, Dana thought about how lucky she was.

Shrinked scientist (F/F story)

"Doctor Mason, I'm heading into town. Do you need me to buy anything?" Eileen called out as she poked her head into her boss' makeshift laboratory, which had previously been Eileen's garage. When there was no reply, she had a quick look. "Doctor Mason, are you in here? Oh, I hope she hasn't gone for a walk again," she said to herself. "At her new height..."

She grabbed her coat and went out to search for her former employer.

Eileen Blackwood was about five foot high, with short brown hair that she often wore in pigtails. She was dressed in jeans and a white top. For the last few years, Eileen had worked for Doctor Rachel Mason, an accomplished scientist that had done some work on shrinking and enlarging radiation. Rachel was a demanding boss, but being her assistant had given Eileen some excellent experiences that would greatly aid her career.

But about a month ago, Doctor Mason had suffered an accident in the lab, and her once five-foot-six form had been reduced a height of a little more than two feet.

Initially, Eileen had wanted to call someone – some colleagues that could help, some medical professionals to have a look – but Doctor Mason had told her not to. She’d ignored quite a few proper safety precautions during that last test, and if anyone learned how careless she’d been with her own safety, she’d probably lose all her funding, not to mention the respect of her peers.

In the end, the pair had decided to head to a house in the country that Eileen had recently inherited from her great aunt. The house had a garage that was large enough for Doctor Mason’s expensive equipment, so that she could continue her experiments and turn herself back to normal. In addition, the house was remote enough that no one would know what was going on, and Rachel’s secret would be safe.


"Doctor Mason?" Eileen called out as she wandered to the nearest woods. "Are you out here?"

She’d been searching for half an hour now, and had seen no sign of her. She was beginning to get worried. Suddenly, she heard a faint voice.

"Eileen! Thank the heavens you’re here! Help me!"

She quickly followed the voice to find her employer lying in a ditch, trying to fend off the neighbour’s German shepherd. The dog seemed quite curious with its new discovery. Mason had always been afraid of dogs, and at her new height, they were even more terrifying.

"Go home, Rex," Eileen said as she waved the dog away. "Go home! That’s a good boy." She turned to Rachel. The woman’s entire outfit was covered in mud – her lab coat, black trousers, and dark grey suit jacket were all dripping wet. And getting those clothes for her current size had not been easy.

"Can you walk back, or do you want me to carry you?" Eileen said. The thought of picking up the mud-covered woman didn’t particularly appeal to her at the moment.

"I’ll walk, thank you," Doctor Mason said, doing her best to hold her head high and seem dignified. It wasn’t particularly convincing.

When they were back at the house, Eileen told her boss to enter the old woodshed at the back.

"But I have to go shower now!" Rachel protested.

Eileen shook her head. "I’m not having you track mud all over the house, or getting all that filth in the drains. I’m the one that’ll have to clean all of that up, you know. There’s a tub in the shed, and I can heat up some water. We’re doing this the old-fashioned way. Go into the shed and strip."

Blushing, Doctor Mason did as she was instructed. A few minutes later, Eileen arrived with the warm water, and began to fill up the tub. Rachel held her hands in front of her crotch and chest, trying her best to preserve what remained of her dignity. When Eileen was finished, she picked up her employer and dropped her in the water.

"What are those for?" Rachel said, nodding to the sponges and bath brush that Eileen had brought.

"The sponges are for getting some of this mud of you."

"And the brush?"

"You’ll find out afterwards," Eileen said ominously. Doctor Mason’s backside began to tingle. She had a horrible feeling she already knew what that vicious-looking brush would be used for.


A week after the accident, Rachel had been having a bad day, and was throwing a tantrum – throwing things, cursing at her assistant, and generally being in a terrible mood. Eileen had done her best to be understanding, but when one of Doctor Mason’s notebooks bounced off her shoulder, she lost her patience. She grabbed the little woman, carried her over to a nearby chair, sat down, and plopped her over her knee. She’d then pulled Rachel’s trousers and panties down to her knees, before beginning to spank her naked bottom. The doctor had been shouting her head off, cursing and pleading as she struggled to break free, but Eileen had easily held her in place as she continued to spank. By the time she was allowed to get up, Rachel’s backside was bright red and felt as if she’d sat in a campfire.

Rachel jumped from foot to foot as she rubbed her burning backside, sobbing uncontrollably. "I’ll call the police on you!" she shouted.

Eileen had just shrugged. "Fine. Here’s my phone," she said, handing Rachel her cell phone. "I assume you know the number."

Rachel had taken the phone, but started to reconsider. Calling the authorities would alert everyone to her current predicament. Everyone would know about her accident and the carelessness that led to it, and it would be the end of her academic career. She handed the phone back and pulled up her panties and trousers, wincing as the cloth dug into her sore backside. "Fine. But I’m assuming this won’t happen again?"

Eileen shook her head. "You assume wrongly. I’ve grown tired of your whining, and your tendency to blame everyone but yourself. It was YOUR impatience that got you into your mess, and as long as you’re living under my roof, it’s YOUR butt that’s going to end up over my knee if you don’t behave yourself. Got that?"


"I think we’re just about done here," Eileen said, putting the sponge down. Rachel blushed. Eileen had insisted on helping her clean herself, and had rubbed that sponge over every single part of her body until it was squeaky clean. She felt tired, and just wanted to lie down and cry. But as she glanced over at the intimidating bath brush on the floor, she had a feeling she’d soon have something else to cry about.

"Ah," Eileen said as she followed Rachel’s gaze. "That’s right, we still have to discuss the matter of your little excursion." She folded her arms and glared down at Rachel. "What exactly were you thinking, wandering off like that? The woods are not safe at your height. You don’t know the area, either – what if you’d gotten lost? Heck, what if someone found you? If you want to keep your predicament a secret, you’re not doing a great job. If you wanted to go for a walk, I could have gone with you."

"I’m sorry," Rachel said. "I just wanted to be alone with my thoughts. I didn’t think –"

"Heh. You’re right about that. You didn't think." Eileen sat down on a wooden chair, laid a dry towel over her knees, and placed the bath brush near the chair. She then patted her lap. "Come here, Rachel."

Rachel climbed out of the tub. On shaking legs, she slowly approached her scowling assistant. When she was close enough, Eileen helped the woman climb over her lap, then pushed her forward to lift her bottom up. The loud smack of her hand against Rachel’s backside was followed by a surprised gasp from the woman. As Eileen began to spank her employer in earnest, Rachel was soon kicking her legs and yelping in pain.

Eileen’s hand was large enough to cover both of Rachel’s cheeks in a single slap, and she moved up and down her backside, making sure to cover every inch. After a few minutes, she stopped long enough to pick up the bath brush.

"Oh no!" Rachel gasped as the cold wood rubbed against her cheeks. "Please, Eileen, don’t you think it’s enough? I’ve learned my lesson, I promise!"

"I believe you," Eileen said calmly. "But I want this lesson to STICK, don’t you?" And she lifted the brush.

As the loud crack of wood on flesh rang out in the shed, Rachel howled. She tried to get away, but Eileen held her down with one hand as the other continued its assault on her backside. Soon, Rachel was sobbing and pleading, promising her anything she wanted if only she’d stop spanking her.

By the time Eileen put the brush back down, Rachel’s bottom was bright red and beginning to blister. She cried as Eileen held her close, rubbing her back and telling her that the punishment was over.

She soon carried Rachel back to the house, where the accomplished scientist would be having a nap on her stomach while her assistant headed to town.

Up the stairs (F/m story)

The winter I turned sixteen, I spent a few weeks living in my aunt's apartment. I didn't have too many friends there, so I felt a bit lonely, but one thing made things a lot better.

Her name was Lara, a tall redhead about ten years older (and I knew well enough not to ask). She had great curves, and she was never scared to show it off. She was always wearing short skirts, but unfortunately, you couldn't see QUITE enough if you walked behind her. Luckily, her apartment was in the same building as my aunt's, with the same stairs, so if I hung back and let her go first, I could follow her up the stairs and look up her skirt – and I did, more than once. Much more.

This was a Tuesday, and to my pleasure, I arrived home at the same time as her. "After you," I told her, trying to seem like a little gentleman – a role I had some experience with. She didn't smile at me, like she usually did when I did these little gestures. In fact, she looked annoyed. This lit up something of a warning bell in my head. Something was wrong, and I didn't know what, so the wise thing to do was to get out of there. Of course, since there was a chance I'd get a good look at her backside if I stayed, the choice was easy.

She started up the stairs, and I followed, and as I hoped, her skirt was short enough to give me a good look of a delicious backside in a pair of none-too-modest panties. These glimpses were the highlight of my day.

She reached the top of the stairs, and after she'd unlocked her apartment, she turned around to glare at me. "Alan, do you think I'm stupid?" she said angrily.

"What?" I said confused. "No! Why do -"

Her hand shot forward, grabbing my earlobe, and I cried out; she could really pinch. "Don't try to be clever, you little pervert," she said. "You think I haven't noticed you staring at my ass? You're not subtle, boy. You're far from subtle. Luckily, I know just what to do."

She pushed the door to her apartment open, dragging me in by the ear. Resisting was in no way an option.

"Think you're clever, boy?" she said as she pushed me into the living room, letting go of my ear. I rubbed it gingerly. "Well, your little stunt just earned you a good spanking, young man."

"What?" I said. "A spanking? You can't -"

"Can and will, little man." She pulled out a dining room chair, sitting down on it. "You've stared at my ass for days, it's high time I saw yours – and I think I want it in red." She patted her lap. "Drop your shorts and underpants and bend over my knees." I hesitated, and she added: "Or do you want to add to your punishment? Want me to get my hairbrush?"

I'd never been spanked before, much less with a hairbrush, but some of my friends back home HAD, and they'd spoken about the hairbrush as if it was some ancient evil from the dawn of the Earth or something. I was fairly sure I didn't want to feel it. I unbuttoned my shorts, pulling them down past my knees, before leaning forward. She stopped me, and gave my bottom a quick slap. "Underpants too, young man." I blushed, but did as she instructed.

"Now," she said, patting my cheeks as I laid bare-bottomed over her lap. "I think a childish punishment like this fits your childish actions as of late." She raised her hand and started spanking.

I gasped as the burn spread through my cheeks , and I tried to stand up. "Stay in position, sport," she said, holding me down. She giggled. "Not used to being spanked, are you? Not to worry. Before this is over, you'll have had a proper introduction."

She kept spanking me in silence. At least, she was silent; I was letting out yelps of pain every time her palm landed on my poor bottom. I would never have believed that her hand could hurt as much as it did.

About ten minutes later, I'd given up on holding the tears back, and I was crying openly. It did nothing to lessen the punishment; if anything, it seemed to egg her on to spank harder. I kicked my legs, but she lifted her right leg, wrapping it around mine, so I couldn't move them. I She also grabbed my hands with her left, making sure I didn't reach back. With my hands and feet held firmly in place, there was nothing I could do but cry and beg, and I did plenty of both.

I have no idea how long I was over her lap, but by the time she pulled me to my feet, it felt like she had ironed my bottom. I tried to rub the sting away, but she slapped my hands. "Not yet," she said. "Go stand with your face to the wall. Hands on your head, no rubbing. I think a bit of time left to think will do you a lot of good."

I spent the next thirty minutes facing that wall, wanting with all my heart to reach back and rub my sore cheeks, but terrified of the consequences should I do so.

This even left me with a very difficult choice. Should I stop trying to stare at her ass, giving up that lovely sight forever? Or should I continue, a little more stealthily in the future, with all the dangers that involved? Good question.

Adjusted (M/F story)

Susan did her best puppy-dog eyes, staring up at her boyfriend. "Please? I need you to do this. For me?"

Benjamin sighed, shaking his head. "We've talked about this, Susan."

"Why not?" she said, leaning against him, feeling his warmth against her as they laid in bed. "Why won't you spank me?"

"It's weird, Susan. It's weird and it's dangerous. Why don't you just get that idea out of your head? It's not going to happen."

Once again, she'd failed to convince him. She wasn't too surprised; he'd never understood how important it was for her, the pain, the humiliation, the complete loss of control, the feeling of someone else holding her responsible. When she was younger, she'd told herself she'd never get involved with someone that couldn't satisfy that part of her.

That was before she met Ben. He was handsome, intelligent, and kind. He shared her love of literature, her weakness for Chinese food, and he loved her as much as she loved him. Perfect in every way, but one.

But there had to be a way. There must be some way to get him to give her the spanking that she wanted – no, needed!

Four weeks later, he knelt by the car, examining the damage. "It's not that bad, is it?" she said. "I mean, it can be fixed, can't it?" She could see his hands trembling a little in rage, and took a step back. He didn't seem too interested in talking to her right now.

"This is more than scratched paint," he told her, trying his very best to remain calm. "It'll have to be at the mechanic's for at least a month, if not more. "He glanced up at her, his voice strangely calm, but his eyes betrayed his emotions. "Do you have any idea how much harder you just made those four weeks? Getting to work, grocery shopping?"

She bit her lip, tears at the edges of her eyes. He turned around and stepped back inside, heading to the basement to brood. She knew better than to disturb him in moments like these.

She headed upstairs to change out of her work clothes, wishing there was a way to calm him down, to get him to forgive her. As she opened the closet, her eyes fell on the long, flat package at the back. She smiled to herself. Maybe there was.

He was sitting in his favourite chair, reading his favourite book, when he heard her walking down the stairs behind him. She walked to his side, looking down at him, but he ignored her, focusing on the book. As the minutes passed, and she stood at his side, saying nothing, he finally looked up. "What?" he snapped.

She bit her lip, her face quite pale as she stood before him, dressed in her business skirt with her hands behind her back. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm sorry that I dented the car, I'm sorry that I was careless."

He was surprised to hear her call him "sir", but he still glared at her. "Sorry isn't good enough, Susan," he said, trying to return to his book.

"I know, sir. That's why I think you should punish me." And she handed him the paddle that she'd been holding behind her back. He took it, grabbing the handle as he stared at the thick wood. The words "Attitude Adjuster" was written across the board. It was one of the things she'd brought from her own apartment. He'd always found it weird. But right now, the thought of Susan bent over, crying in pain as he painted her bare cheeks red with the hard wood, was more appealing than it had ever been.

"You know what?" he said, standing up. "I think so too."

She smiled, grateful, but nervous, and more than a little bit scared.

She walked over to the writing desk they'd placed in the corner, flipping her skirt up before bending over the desk. As she hadn't been wearing panties, she knew she had to make a very inviting target. She heard him step up behind her, patting the paddle against his palm. "You're going to think twice before you're that careless again," he told her. "I'm going to make sure of that."

She cried out in pain as the first stroke of the paddle made contact with her rear end. She'd been paddled before, by boyfriends in college, but that had always been erotic games. Ben was angry, and he wasn't playing. He was punishing her. And she had asked him to do it.

Ben lifted the paddle again and again, raining strokes down on the wriggling bottom in front of him as Susan yelped in pain. "I won't have you being careless," he told her. "The car is not important. What if YOU had been hurt?" He took a deep breath, steadying his voice before continuing. "Did you even consider, for the briefest of moments, what would happen if you'd been injured? Or killed?"

Susan was in no state to answer him, so she cried instead, wailing as her bottom turned redder and redder. At last, when the rear end in front of him had turned crimson, and Susan had no more tears left, Ben dropped the paddle, letting it fall to the floor. He helped her up, and they hugged, her head against his chest.

"So, still mad about the car?" she said once she'd calmed down a bit.

"No," he said. "Are you ok?" he said, his voice full of concern. She could tell that he regretted his anger.

"I'll live," she told him, "But I'll have to stand through dinner for a week or so."

She picked up the paddle, handing it to him. "Why don't you keep this somewhere safe, and close?"

He took it. "Yes. I have a feeling I'll use it again."

She shuddered. Whether from fear or delight, she didn't know.

Lazy (M/f story)

 There are some days where there's just a lot harder to get anything done. All you want to do is relax your mind with a game, a book or a film, and forget about the things you're SUPPOSED to do. Everyone has those days, and today, Kate had hers. She was lying on the bed, playing some game she had bought the week before. There were only two problems. One was that she was supposed to be studying for her exam the next day.

The loud knocking on her door was caused by the other problem. Her big brother Ryan. Ryan, who was a little more hardworking than his sister, had made it clear that as long as she stayed in his house, she would either shape up or face the consequences.

"Hey, sis, I'm heading into town on an errand. Want me to get anything?"

"Not right now, thanks."

"By the way, aren't you supposed to be studying?"

The tone in his voice made her butt tingle, so she paused the game and turned around to look at him. "I was just taking a break. Five minutes, I promise, and I'll go back to work."

"I'll be back in about half an hour. If you haven't turned off the game by then, we're going to have a little talk."

As she heard her brother drive off, Kate decided to save at the first available checkpoint. She had been through quite a lot of Ryan's little talks, and had no interest in another one.

But she was in a particular interesting part of the story, and she didn't want to turn off the game just yet. The next checkpoint after that wasn't far off, and her brother wouldn't be back for half an hour. That was LOADS of time!

If Kate had heard Ryan's car pull into the garage, she could still have saved her butt. But the first sign that her time was up was the knock on the door, and by then, it was far too late. Ryan entered, not looking particularly happy. Kate got to her feet, looking down at the floor as she waited for the lecture about to commence.

"I thought you were going to start studying soon."

"I was! Just a small break, I'll start studying now."

"No. First, we'll have that discussion I promised you."

Kate shivered slightly. "But Ryyaaaan, I'll start working right away, I promise!"

"You should have been working earlier today. You should have been working yesterday. Now, you're going to pay for that laziness."

"But Ryan, I-"

"No buts, Kate. Take down your jeans."

Kate hated this part. Ryan felt that by making her bare her own bottom, he forced her to accept her punishment, and, by extension, take more responsibility for her actions. Kate felt that Ryan was being a big meanie, and should be nicer to her.

With her jeans and panties around her ankles, Kate picked up a pillow and placed it in the middle of the bed. She then laid down, placing the pillow under her stomach, pushing her bottom up to take her punishment. She heard Ryan slowly pull his belt out of the loops. Kate had yet to hear a scarier sound than that. Ryan stepped forward, placing a hand on her raised, bared buttocks. “Kate, why am I punishing you?”

Kate sighed. “Because I was goofing off and playing games when I should be studying.” She had a great number of sarcastic answers that she wanted to give instead, but knew that a smart mouth would only earn her extras.

The belt whipped through the air, landing across Kate's rear end. Shortly thereafter, it landed again. And again. Ryan whipped hard and fast. The lecture was over, and the true punishment had begun. Kate buried her face in the bed, muffling her pained exclamations.

Again and again, the belt landed, the leather biting deeply into Kate's bottom. Ryan spaced the licks out, but for some reason, the lower parts of her bottom stayed unbelted. When her bottom had turned pink, he reached forward and touched Kate's shoulder. She turned to face him, hope and confusion clear in her eyes; it couldn't be over already? Most of her whippings were twice as long.

“I know you need to be able to sit tomorrow, but it isn't right to let you off the hook. Therefore, I'm giving you a choice. Either we finish the licking right now, and I promise not to hit your sit spots. It will be hard to sit tomorrow, but you'll survive.” Kate didn't like this option very much.

“Or, we stop for today, and tomorrow, after the exam, you take the rest of the whipping – with a couple of extras. I will concentrate on your sit spots, meaning that sitting the next few days will be difficult. Your choice.”

Kate didn't like either option very much. She weighed the pros and cons of both, but decided that she couldn't spend her exam worrying about the licking she would get. It would be better if the entire belting was behind her. She looked up at him. “I'll take option one.”

Ryan nodded, and lifted the belt again.

The smacks came hard and fast, and Kate cried out in pain. After a short while, her bottom was turning red, and she was begging between sobs. At last, when she was sure she couldn't take any more, Ryan put the belt away and gathered her in for a hug.

After letting her cry against his shirt for a while, he headed off to put away the things he'd bought in town. Before leaving, he warned his sister. “I'll be back in ten minutes. If you haven't placed your nose in a book by then, I'm placing it in the corner, and giving you another dose of the belt.”

Kate stood up, and went over to the mirror to study her bottom. True to his word, her sit spots were as pale as ever. The rest of her bottom, however, wasn't such a pretty sight. She gingerly touched the flesh with the tips of her fingers, and made three promises.

The first one was to put away the game until after exams.

The second was to start studying right away, not wanting to risk another belt spanking.

The third was to find one of her skirts to wear tomorrow, because there was no way she was putting on jeans.

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.