Steven & Julie, part 1: Lending a Hand (F/F & M/F story)

 When Julie had called Steven and asked him if he wanted to come over so they could do their homework together, there was a part of him that wanted that to be some sort of code that he was too thick to figure out. Julie was attractive, both in personality and in appearance, and he had a feeling that she liked him as well. But like he had suspected, she'd meant just what she said.

 

They were sitting on her bed, going through some particularly difficult maths problems, when Anna entered the room. Anna was Julie's older sister, and in charge whenever their mother was out of town – which she was this week. Anna had the same long, raven-black hair as her younger sister, and the same deep blue eyes, so despite the fact that Anna was a foot taller and slightly less curvy, it was easy to see that the two were sisters. Steven knew that the two sisters had always been very close, despite the five-year age gap between them, and they had a very friendly and loving relationship. There was little of that love in Anna's eyes as she folded her arms and glared down at her sister.

 

“There's a ten-pound note missing from my purse, Julie. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that?” There was a bit of worry in her eyes, but Julie still shook her head.

 

Anna walked over to the dresser, where an empty CD case was lying next to the CD player. The clear plastic that had been wrapped around the case, was still lying beneath it. “So, you've bought a new CD recently, have you? With what money, I wonder?” She stared at her sister again. “Do you want to confess now, or would you like to dig the hole a little deeper first? Because if you lie to me again, it's going to be a lot worse.”

 

Julie bit her lip, glancing nervously at her older sister. “I did it,” she said after a short pause. “I really wanted that CD, and I didn't have enough money, and I was going to pay you back, I swear!”

 

“I believe you,” Anna said. “But that doesn't mean it's OK to help yourself to my money. If you want to borrow some money, you ASK. And lying about it, right to my face?” She shook her head. “Do you know what I'm going to do now, Julie?”

 

“Yes,” Julie said, squirming a little.

 

“And what is that?”

 

Julie looked sideways at Steven, who was staring at the strange scene before him. Then she looked pleadingly at Anna, as if begging her not to make her say it in front of him. But Anna was unmoved. “What am I going to do to you, Julie?”

 

After a brief pause, she finally blurted out: “You're going to give me a spanking.”

 

Steven stared open-mouthed at her. Had she just said what he thought she had said?

 

Anna nodded. “That's right. Now come over here and bend over the desk.”

 

Julie gasped. “Please, Anna! I know I deserve a spanking, but not in front of Steven!”

 

Steven briefly wondered if he should leave and save her the embarrassment, but Anna looked at him. “Stay,” she told him. “The added humiliation will do wonders for her behaviour.” She patted the desk next to her. “Julie, come over here and bend over.”

 

Under her sister's strict gaze, Julie did as instructed. Slowly, she rose to her feet, inching closer to her sister before placing her elbows on the desk, bending at the waist and sticking her bottom out as if she'd been in this position countless times before. When Anna was satisfied with her position, she lifted her sister's skirt and placed it on her back, before placing her fingers in the waistband of the white cotton panties.

 

“No!” Julie protested, but she remained in position. “Don't pull my panties down, please! Not with Steven here!”

 

Anna chuckled. “I promised you a spanking, kid. What in the world made you think I was going to let you keep your panties on? Have I ever spanked you on anything but your bare little bottom?” And she pulled her sister's panties down to her ankles, revealing a pair of pale cheeks quivering in anticipation of what was to come.

 

Steven stared at the strange, but wonderful sight as Anna gave her sister's backside a few light taps, before lifting her hand over her head and bringing it down in a hard slap. Julie hissed a little at the sharp sting, but her reactions grew noisier as Anna gave her posterior some hard, quick smacks. Julie was soon expressing her disapproval of the proceedings with an “Ouch” here and an “Ow!” there, and her rear jiggled with every single smack as Anna delivered a very firm punishment.

 

Under the assault of Anna's firm and punishing hand, Julie's once-white cheeks grew pink. Anna made sure to cover the entire surface of her bottom, paying particular attention to her sit spots. After a while, she stopped, shaking her hand and grimacing as if in pain. “My palm is really starting to sting now. I think I'm going to go fetch that old paddle and finish the job with that.”

 

“No, please!” Julie said. “Anything but that!”

 

“I know you don't like the paddle, kid, but ...” She stopped, and she glanced over at the boy on the bed as if an idea had suddenly popped into her head. “Hey, Steven, come over here.”

 

As Steven had been lost in thought while staring at the spanking, it took a second or two before he reacted. “What is it?”

 

“I can't finish Julie's spanking with my palm like this. Care to lend me a hand?”

 

Steven stared at her, unable to accept what she was telling him. “Are you asking me to spank my friend?”

 

“You'd be doing her a favour,” Anna replied. “She definitely has a proper spanking coming, and unless you help me out here, I'm going to have to finish the job with dad's old paddle, or a belt. And trust me, she doesn't want either of those. Right, Julie?”

 

Julie took a deep breath, as if the words that were about to come out of her mouth scared the daylights out of her. “Please, Steven. Anything but that paddle!”

 

Anna stepped away from her sister, and Steven took her place. With his left hand placed comfortingly on Julie's back, he lifted his right, and brought it down on her quivering cheeks with a barely audible tap.

 

“You'd better give her a proper spanking,” Anna told him. “If you don't, I'm going to finish up with the paddle.”

 

Steven tried again, delivering a dozen smacks to Julie's bare backside, each of them harder than the last.

 

“Better,” Anna told him. “But keep going.”

 

For the next few minutes, the room was filled with the sound of Steven's hand slapping down on Julie's backside, and with Julie's soft crying. By the time Anna told him that it was enough, and that he could stop, Julie's bottom was bright red, and she was sobbing into the desk. When she learned that her punishment was over, she rose to her feet and fell towards Steven's chest, crying into his shirt. Steven held her close in a hug, rubbing her upper back to help her calm down. When Julie's crying stopped, Anna placed a hand on his shoulder. “You'd better go now, I want to talk to Julie in private. Come back tomorrow or something, OK?”

 

When Steven had gathered up his things and headed home, he thought about what had just happened. While he had been able to tell himself that he did it to help her, he knew that he had really enjoyed spanking Julie. His mind was filled with visions of putting Julie across his lap, baring her bottom and spanking her to tears, before clutching her close as she sobbed into his chest.

 

 

“So,” Anna said to her sister once Steven had left. “Was it everything you ever dreamed of?”

 

Julie, who was standing with her back to the mirror and examining her bruised backside, pouted. “You could have pretended to have a sore palm earlier, you know. It would have meant more work for him.”

 

Anna chuckled. “I didn't want him to think I was a wimp. Besides, there was no 'pretending' about it, my palm really stings.”

 

“Aw, poor thing, I feel really bad for you,” Julie said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

 

“Don't push your luck, kid, or I might actually bring out that old paddle. So didn't you just ask him for a spanking? I saw his face, I'm pretty sure he'd have given you one.”

 

“It's more romantic this way,” Julie said. “This time, he did it to save me from a terrible fate. And the next time he spanks me, he's going to think it was all his idea.”

 

Anna shook her head. “You're playing with fire, but as long as you're the only one being burned, you can do what you like for me.”

Love thy Work (M/F story)

It’s often been said that most artists are their own harshest critic. Until he had met is girlfriend, Hector had refused to believe that. To his eyes, a small pride in everything you created was only natural. Sure, it was important to remember that your works could always be improved, but you should still be somewhat pleased.

 

Unfortunately, his girlfriend, Katie, did not share his point of view. Instead of comparing her newest paintings to her previous works, she always compared them to her favourite paintings. And this was unfortunate, seeing as she was trying to make a living as a painter. Striving for perfection was making her a better painter, but it was doing so at the cost of her morale. Her self-criticising had long been a source of arguments for them.

 

"You have to realize that there is a difference between ’good enough’ and ’perfect’!" he told her angrily. "Stop criticising yourself so much!"

 

"I’ll never be good enough if I don’t strive to be perfect," she answered.

 

"You’re already good enough. If you don’t learn that soon, I’ll have to take you over my knee."

 

She smiled at that. He had threatened her like that a couple of times before, but she knew he wouldn’t REALLY spank her.

 

Then, one Saturday, Katie was working on a painting they were going to try to get shown at a exhibition in town. She was working slowly, her shoulders lowered in defeat. Hector was sitting nearby, reading a book. She preferred it that way; he was a comforting presence that didn’t distract.

 

"I’ll never get it done in time," she muttered sadly to herself.

 

"You’re only working slowly because you’re so convinced you can’t do it," she heard Hector said behind her. She hadn’t heard him get up. "You’ve told yourself that you’re not good enough so often that you’ve started to believe it."

 

"But I’m NOT good enough!" she screamed at him, a hint of tears in her eyes.

 

The next thing she knew, Hector was sitting in his chair again, but this time, she was lying over his lap. She was stunned, unable to speak; that is, until the first smack landed on the bottom of her jeans, to be quickly followed by the second and the third smack.

 

"What are you doing!?" She screamed, trying to glare back at him and get off his lap at the same time.

 

"You know what I’m doing," he said, holding her down with his left hand while his right hand continued spanking. "You’re not stupid, even though you probably believe you are. You’re getting a spanking. No one criticises my girlfriend like that, not even herself." He punctuated the last words with a dozen hard smacks to her sit spots.

 

She knew she couldn’t physically overpower him to get off his lap, so she told him to stop. When that didn’t work, she COMMANDED him to stop. That only caused him to spank harder. She tried begging, but that did no good either. Finally, not long after tears had started to form in her eyes, she was put back on her feet. She glared at him, rubbing her bottom furiously. It stung, and she knew she wouldn’t sit comfortably for the rest of the day.

 

"Look me in the eyes and tell me that you’re good enough."

 

"I’m NOT!" She screamed. She realized her mistake the second she saw the look on his face, but by then it was far too late. His hands shot forth and started unbuttoning her jeans.

 

"Now, honey, let’s talk about this, I don’t –" she said as he pushed her jeans down to her ankles. She was then placed back over his knees.

 

"I suggest that you learn your lesson soon, Katie," Hector said as he rubbed her bottom, admiring the pink flesh visible through her snow-white panties. "I can keep this up all day, and my hand won’t tire nearly as fast as your bottom." With that, he continued to smack her.

 

Katie gasped in pain. She hadn’t expected her jeans to be that much difference, but his spanks now felt twice as hard. "Hector, honey, can’t we talk about this?"

 

"What is there to talk about?" Hector answered, keeping up the assault on her aching bottom. "I’m sick and tired of hearing you complaining about yourself. You don’t know how to respect yourself, so I’m going to keep spanking until you do."

 

She couldn’t think of a good reply, so for the moment, she laid still, trying to push the hand smacking her bottom so far from her mind that she couldn’t feel it any longer. It didn’t work.

 

Hector smacked hard and fast, deciding to teach her a lesson as quickly as possible. He had long ago realized she had a special talent. Everyone he knew could see that talent. Everyone, that is, except for the girl currently getting a bottom warming over his lap. He would get through to her no matter what.

 

"Honey, I’ve learned my lesson now," she said, trying once again to talk him out of it. "I really have, so could – ouch, not so hard, you bastard!" she cried out. She felt his hand stop, and breathed a sigh of relief – until she felt his hands at the waistband of her panties.

 

“Number one," he said. “I decide how long and hard the spanking is, not you. That’s why it’s a punishment. Number two," he said as he lowered her panties, “if you curse at me during a spanking again, I will not hesitate to wash your mouth out with soap. Be thankful I’m just baring your bottom this time." Katie wanted to protest the fact that he had already decided there would be more spankings, but she decided this was not the best time to bring that up.

 

Hector looked down on the slightly red bottom in front of him. She had almost had enough, she decided. There would be some time before she would sit comfortably. But he wanted to ensure that she had learned her lesson, and that she would remember it every time she sat down for at least a week. He concentrated on her sit spots again, letting loose some of his hardest smacks.

 

If someone had told Katie that a pair of light, almost see-through panties could have this much of a difference, she would have refused to believe them. But she had to believe what her own body told her. She realized, finally, that she couldn’t talk Hector out of giving her a spanking, so there was no use in trying.

 

Suddenly, Katie found herself back at her feet. As she stood there rubbing her poor, aching bottom, Hector put a finger under her chin and forced her to look him in the eyes.

 

“Now, tell me that you are good enough."

 

“I- I’m g-good enough," she stuttered, afraid of what he would do if she didn’t.

 

“Good. Now again," he said, his eyes betraying his joy and relief.

 

“I’m good enough."

 

“Louder."

 

“I’m good enough!"

 

He smiled approvingly. “Good. Now, there is a painting you have to get finished by tomorrow." He picked up his book. “But there will be two changes to your work routine." Katie looked at him, unsure of what would come next. “First of all, you will take your pants and panties all the way off. That is NOT open to debate," he told her as she opened her mouth, trying to argue. “You will show that well-spanked bottom as a reminder that you’ve been punished."

 

‘I don’t need your reminder, I have my stinging rear to do that,’ she thought to herself. But she knew saying it out loud would be a bad idea.

 

“Second, if I catch you beating yourself up again, I will bend you over the table, take off my belt and really let you have it." His expression let her know that she was dead serious.

 

With that, he gave her lips a kiss and her bottom a smack, as he sat down to continue reading and she turned to continue her painting. ‘One thing is for sure,’ she thought as she rubbed her bottom. ‘If pain makes you a great artist, this will be my masterpiece!’

Slave's Duties (F/F story)

The thought was still new and still scary to Horatia, as she sat by the river Tiber, relaxing in the sun. Yesterday, at around noon, she had been given her first slave.

 

Her father had been in town to do the weekly purchasing, and had stopped by the slave market on the way home. He had felt that Horatia was still, in many ways, a child, and he wanted to help her grow up. He had decided that the way to do it was to give her more responsibility, and what better way to do it than to give her a slave to take care of?

 

Horatia sat there with her feet in the water, watching the black-haired girl sitting behind her. She was two years younger than Horatia, who was already nineteen. Berenice was tall, and stronger than Horatia, but Horatia knew that if the slave acted up, she could have her taken away and whipped. She had power.

 

And that scared her.

 

As they were sitting there, Berenice was telling her about the life back at the farm, the life she had now left. In spite of her new status as a slave, Berenice didn't seem shocked or depressed or anything else that could result from having your liberty taken away. Horatia had asked her about it, and Berenice had raised her shoulders. "I've had some time to deal with it. It's been more than a month since I was captured. I spent a lot of that time worrying about what was going to happen to me, but it turned out okay. There are worse things that can happen to a young female slave than being a servant in the Roman countryside." She looked down at her wrists, at the bright red marks where her chains had been, and for a moment, the carefree, happy tone in her voice was gone as she considered what she a short time ago had considered a possible future. "Much worse things."

 

Then, she leaned back and smiled, her good mood returning in the warm sun. "Anyway, where was I?"

 

"You were telling about the time your little sister tried to make a spear."

 

Berenice laughed loudly. "Yes, little Marina. She's an adventurous one. Anyway, she decided to sneak away and test her new weapon on a deer or a boar or something. It was lucky that she didn't find a boar - that stick of hers wouldn't be much help to her. Anyway, me and two of my brothers had to go out looking for her, wasting most of the day. When we found her at last, lost in the woods, I was so angry and so happy at the same time, that I first gave her a hug, and then a spanking.”

 

Out of the corner of the eye, she could see her new mistress startle at that last word, but didn't give it much thought.

 

“When I had reddened her butt, we led her back home. She stayed good for a week or two, but you know how it is with these young ones. A red butt every other week or so, like a clock.”

 

“Why was it you that handled the... discipline?” For some reason, she was unable to use the word Berenice had used.

 

“Well, you know, our parents aren't as young as they used to be. They can't give the walloping that the young ones deserve any longer. Since I'm five years older than most of them, and strong enough to smack them, I'm the best they've got.” She looked up. “Well, with me here, I guess Tatius will be taking over the discipline. He's the second oldest, two years younger than me, but strong as a bull. I'm guessing that the first one to misbehave under his watch will be made quite the example of. Those will be REAL spankings, compared to the patting I've given them.”

 

At Horatia's insistence, she told more stories about her sisters, and the way she punished them. Horatia had a wish, a desire, growing in her stomach, and these stories seemed to fill that wish and enlarge it at the same time.

 

“Then there was Korinna, and the time she accompanied my father on the trip into town for supplies. He'd caught her stealing apples, and told her that when they got back, she would get a spanking from me. But when they got back, Korinna told me that she was quite unwilling to submit to any punishment. I told her that was fine by me, I didn't need her approval, and I pulled her kicking and screaming over my lap anyway.

 

When I felt I had warmed her bottom enough, I told her to go outside and cut a switch. She told me, clutching her bottom, that she had been punished enough, and that she wasn't going to cut any switches. I told her that since she was still fighting, she would get to cut two switches, and that I would use them until they broke. I also told her that if she didn't do as I said, I would send one of our siblings outside to cut THREE switches, all for her. Eyeing the eager faces around us, she decided to submit and went outside, and by the time the second switch broke, she was sobbing like mad and didn't sit down at all for three days.”

 

“Tell me more stories like these,” Horatia said, sitting on the rock and drinking in her slave's every word.

 

“Why are you so interested, anyway? They're just spankings. You probably got a few in your day too.”

 

“No, I didn't.” Horatia sighed. “I'm an only child, and father seems to think I'm made of glass. He's never...disciplined me.” Her wish was growing stronger, and she couldn't hold it in any longer. “Would... would you do it?”

 

“Do what?” Berenice said, confused.

 

“I want you to discipline me. To… spank me. I want to know what it's like.”

 

For a moment, Berenice looked at her like she was mad. “And then your father finds out, and I get a whipping – or worse.” She leaned back, resting on the grass. “No, thank you.”

 

Horatia ran over to her slave, clutching her hand. “I won't tell him! And if he finds out, I will protect you, I promise. Please. I just want to know.”

 

Berenice sat up in the grass again. “So you really want a spanking?”

 

“Yes, I do,” Horatia said, smiling warmly as she realized her wish could become a reality. “A real spanking, a real punishment, like you would give to your sisters.”

 

“It will hurt, you know. It will hurt a lot. You won't like it one bit.”

 

“I know, that's why I want it. No, that's why I need it.” She looked up at her slave. “Please.”

 

“All right.” Berenice looked around. “Here's a good a place as any, right?”

 

“No one ever comes her but me,” Horatia told her.

 

“Then let's get started.” She sat down on the rock, pulled the nervous girl over her lap, and pulled her dress up, revealing her pale bottom.

 

“Remember, don't let me up until I've received a real spanking.”

 

“You're going to regret those words, you know.” With that, Berenice raised her hand.

 

She started off slowly. This girl has never been spanked in her life, she thought to herself. She probably has a very low threshold. Slowly, the spanking increased in power, and Horatia started kicking her legs. “Steady, girl, I've only just begun.”

 

“But it hurts!” Horatia whined.

 

“That's the point of it. And if you think this hurts, just you wait until I REALLY begin.”

 

Horatia didn't like the sound of that.

 

Berenice decided to start the spanking for real, smacking as if the crying girl across her lap really was one of her misbehaving sisters instead of her new owner.

 

Horatia was kicking so hard that she almost fell of her lap, and Berenice grabbed her around the torso to keep her in place. If this had been one of her sisters, she would have let her fall, and then gotten her to get a switch, but she knew a switch would be too much for the frail girl.

 

Soon, Horatia was lying limply across her lap, too tired to scream, cry, kick or do anything but lie there and feel the hard hand smacking down on her burning rear. She didn't even notice when the spanking stopped, just suddenly realized that she was sitting in Berenice's lap, being comforted.

 

As they stood up, and Horatia rubbed the tears out of her eyes with one hand and the sting out of her bottom with the other, Berenice gave her a hug. “I'm sorry.”

 

“Don't be,” Horatia said, her voice still not quite stable. “I asked you to do this. I was curious. My curiosity was settled. There's just one thing.”

 

“What's that?”

 

“If that was a 'patting', I'm glad I didn't ask your brother this favour.”

 

Berenice laughed.

The Half-Orc and the Maid (M/F story)

As Cathal looked around in his stylishly furnished bedroom, he was once again overwhelmed by the realization that, less than a month ago, he'd been living in a mud hut in the orc lands far to the east.

Cathal had been raised with his mother's people and knew their ways, but he'd always wanted to know more about his human father. His mother had told him that he was some sort of high-ranking noble, who had been stationed at a human outpost not far from her home village. She'd fallen in love with him, and when he spoke sweetly to her, she had eventually agreed to share his bed. He'd shared stories about his homeland, and told her that he would take her with him. But a few months later, he'd left for home, leaving her with nothing but empty promises and a swelling belly.

As the only half-orc for miles around, Cathal had been the subject of a lot of fascination growing up. He and his mother had moved around a lot, and he'd seen a lot of the orcish lands before she passed away.

A few weeks ago, he'd decided to pack his things and travel to the human lands, seeking the father that had left him. He wasn't entirely sure what he had expected him to do – he'd already disowned him once, it didn't seem very likely that the noble would suddenly welcome his son with open arms – but he wanted to see the man's face, and have him explain in his own words why he had left.

Accustomed to being the only half-human among orcs, he soon grew accustomed to being the only half-orc among humans. He soon located his father's castle, but when he approached the gate to seek its master, he learned that his father had already passed away. He was instead brought before Lady Lynette, his father's wife and the new ruler of the surrounding lands.

The lady was not happy when she saw Cathal, but to his relief, her anger was not directed at him. His EXISTENCE troubled him, as it was clear evidence that her husband had been unfaithful to her while he was away, but she couldn't blame Cathal for that.

The lady was a short woman with bright red hair, who seemed to have an inner power that commanded respect. Speaking softly, she still had the strength to bring warriors to her knees. She apologized to Cathal for the way he and his mother had been treated, and offered him a place at the castle. If he would serve her, she would make sure he was well treated for his troubles.

A sudden knock on the door brought him out of his daydreams. “Master Cathal?” a young woman said. He opened the door, and a dark-skinned maid was smiling nervously at him.

“What is it?” he said.

“Well, sir, I wondered if you wanted me to make the bath ready for you. Lady Lynette said you might be tired after your travels?” The girl seemed a bit nervous. Was she scared of him? He'd learned that the orcs didn't have the best reputation in these parts.

“That sounds lovely,” he told her gently, trying his best to seem non-threatening. “I just have a bit of unpacking to do.”

The maid, whose name was Molly, insisted on helping him unpack. While she was in his room, she rarely met his gaze, but whenever he turned away from her, he could almost feel her eyes locked on him. When he turned back to her, she blushed and turned away. After a brief period of tense silence, she started to ask him some questions about who he was and where he was from. He realized that what he'd seen in her eyes wasn't fear, but fascination. For a servant girl, a young half-orc from other lands had to seem strange and exotic, maybe even exciting.

“It must be hard on you, having left your own people behind,” she said.

He shrugged. “I wasn't really any more at home there than here,” he said. “I was just as different. A strange half-human that wandered among them. By human standards, orcs are short and muscular, with dark green skin and red eyes. Since I was as tall as a human, with light green skin, I gathered quite a few comments. When I was in my teens, there was a girl in the village that kept trying to peek at me while I bathed.”

Molly blushed.

“She was a year younger than me, and quite fascinated. While I was down at the river, I spotted her peeking at me through the bushes, and set after her. With my long legs, I quickly caught up with her, and put the squealing and giggling girl across my knees.”

The maid was now staring open-mouthed at him.

“I quickly bared her bottom and started to spank her with the palm of my hand. She squealed and struggled, kicking her legs, but I was strong enough to hold her in place. I moved my hand from cheek to cheek, spanking her for several minutes before she promised to be good. When I let her up, she danced from foot to foot, trying her best to rub the sting out of her seat. It didn't seem to be very effective, but it was funny to watch.”

“Did she leave you alone then?” Molly asked, finally managing to speak.

“Not at all. In fact, she came back to peek at me every single week after that, even though I caught her and spanked her every single time. Imagine that.”

“I am,” she told him. She almost fainted when she realized what she'd said.

Half an hour later, Cathal was relaxing in his bath. The bathtub had been built into the floor, allowing him to just step into it and relax at ground level. From Molly's facial expressions during his little tale, he guessed that she had the same interest in peeking at him that the orc girl had, and perhaps the same eagerness to suffer the consequences.

About a quarter of an hour into his bath, the door opened slightly, and he could see a dark-skinned face blushing furiously as she peeked in. She wasn't very stealthy, and he guessed that she wasn't even trying not to be seen. Maybe she was scared of not being caught.

“You naughty girl! Come here,” he said, jumping out of his bath toward her. If she'd tried to run, he would have found himself in a difficult position – should he let her get away, spoiling the moment, or should he run half-naked through the castle on his first day here? Luckily, she remained rooted to the spot, putting up only a token resistance as he grabbed her arm and dragged her into the room. She made some feeble excuses as he dragged her toward a chair.

He sat down and pulled on her arm, and she squeaked as she landed on his lap.

“Please don't spank my bottom, sir,” she said, wriggling her bottom enticingly.

“It's too late for that,” he told her as he raised her skirt. She squealed as he put his fingers in the waistband of her underwear, pulling it down to her knees. “You knew what the consequences would be, and you did it anyway. You're going to have a very sore backside by the time I'm done with you.”

He smiled as he took in the view. Two dark brown orbs peeked up at him, quivering in anticipation. He gently rubbed them with his hands, enjoying the sight of the goosebumps that appeared on her skin when she felt his hand. Suddenly, he lifted his hand and gave her bottom a hard slap. She squealed again, wriggling around on his lap. He slapped her again.

He massaged her cheeks, then gave her a dozen hard slaps that made her kick her legs, then went right back to rubbing her. He wasn't in any sort of hurry, and he was going to enjoy himself. And as her legs parted, giving him a great view of what lay between them, he could tell that she was enjoying herself as well.

“You've been a very bad girl, Molly. I'm going to spank you until you've paid for your misdeeds.”

“Ouch,” she said, arching her back as the sting in her rear end grew stronger. “Are you going to send me to my room, too?” she asked.

“Maybe,” he told her, as he slapped the lower parts of her bottom. “Or maybe I'll send you to mine, instead.”

“Ooh. I think I'd like that.”

By the time he helped her off his lap, her bottom was bright red, and tears were rolling down her cheeks. But she didn't mind that one bit.

Like the girl from his past, she danced from foot to foot as she tried to rub the sting out, but soon, she placed her hands at the back of his neck and kissed him deeply. He kissed back, their lips locked until they ran out of breath.

Soon, her clothes were off as well, and he picked her up and went back to the bath.

The principal's punishment (M/F story)

Joan glanced at the stack of papers at her desk again, as if she had hoped it would have shrunk since the last time she looked at it. To her disappointment, it hadn't.
 
While Joan loved her job as a principal at a small school, she wasn't too keen on the paperwork that it entailed. The stack on her desk seemed to grow larger every day, and it was hard for her to start working on it. It was Thursday afternoon, and it looked like she had to spend all weekend on it.
 
As she heard the bell ring, and the noise as the pupils ran home, she decided to walk the halls for a bit, and see if there was anything worth her attention. And as she reached the southern entrance of the school, she spotted something quite unusual in one of the classrooms.
 
Mary Wilkins, one of the more scatter-brained girls in the school, was bending over the teacher's desk, with her skirt raised and her panties at her ankles, as her teacher stood behind her lecturing her, with a wicked-looking paddle in his hand. Will Stewart was the newest teacher in the school, and though he was quite young, he seemed strangely old-fashioned to some of the other teachers.
 
Joan wondered whether she should make her presence known, but decided to stay in the doorway, watching what transpired. Corporal punishment was still officially part of the school rules, but most of the teachers elected not to use it – as did Joan herself. Pupils being sent to the principal's office could expect a stern lecture, but needn't fear their ability to sit.
 
His lecture complete, the teacher lifted the paddle, patting it gently against the quivering cheeks in front of him. With a slow movement, he raised it up, before bringing it crashing down on the girl's defenceless bottom. The loudness of the hard wood on soft flesh made Joan gasp silently, while Mary's reaction was somewhat louder.
 
Stroke after stroke landed, and Mary jerked around and cried out, but somehow, she managed to stay in position. Will had a grim determination on his face, but he didn't say anything. The time for lecturing had passed.
 
Finally, when Mary's bottom had turned red and the tears had turned to loud sobs, Will put the paddle down, helping the girl to her feet. He allowed her to rub her poor posterior, before giving her a hug and telling her to do better in the future.
 
As Mary dried her tears, she picked up her backpack, and giving her teacher a quick hug, she left the classroom, still rubbing her stinging rear. Joan ducked out of the way as the pupil left, not wanting to cause her further embarrassment by revealing her punishment had been witnessed. Mary didn't as much as glance around her as she left, her head still occupied with her pain.
 
Joan entered the classroom, where Will was gathering up a few papers. “A bit of after-class discipline to aid her education, Will?” Joan asked as she entered.
 
“Ah, Miss Winters,” Will smiled as she entered. “You saw that little session? Yes, a necessary part of our job sometimes. Some girls learn better when they're forced to sit gingerly.”
 
“I've told you before, you can call me Joan,” she said. “We're not that formal around here.”
 
“There's nothing wrong with respect for a superior,” Will replied.
 
Joan dropped the matter. Will liked to hold himself to strict standards. Fortunately, he never demanded that others followed his example, so no one minded.
 
“What did she do to make you punish her like that?” Joan asked.
 
Will shook his head. “Mary forgot her homework one time too many. A bright girl, when she wants to be, but lacking in discipline. I gave her a choice – a good paddling, or a few days of detention. She picked the former.”
 
“Forgotten her homework?” Joan asked.
 
“Yes. I've seen it before – there's so much homework to do, but rather than starting early and working on it, these young girls put it off or forget about the whole thing. Now, she has something to refresh her memory.”
 
Later that evening, Joan couldn't stop thinking about what Will had said. A sore bottom, to help the girls remember their homework? Joan glanced at the stack of papers at her desk, and had a funny feeling in her stomach.

The Bet (M/F story)

 "Pair of aces," I said, placing my cards face-up on the table.

 

With a smug grin, Kate flipped her cards. “Three of a kind. Looks like I win yet again, Jack,” she said, picking up the matchsticks and adding them to her own pile.

 

Kate was the neighbour's daughter, two years older than me, and we had grown up as best friends. Recently, she'd taught me to play poker. We usually played just for fun, dividing up a box of matchsticks before the game began, but sometimes we played for money, or for dares. Kate was still better at the game than me, but I felt I was learning fast. We were sitting in her parents' living room, me on the couch and she in a comfy chair. Both of her parents were at work, but we were on our summer holiday.

 

She shuffled the deck, and we played another hand. A few minutes later, I found I was still missing the jack and ten to complete the straight I'd been trying to build up. “King high,” I told her, tossing the cards on the table.

 

“Pair of threes,” she said cheerily, picking up the last few matchsticks from the table.

 

“I guess you won. Do you want to divide up the pile and start again?”

 

“Nah. I've got another idea. We play for a forfeit.”

 

“What did you have in mind?”

 

She seemed to be thinking hard about something, before finally making a decision. “How about this: we play a single hand, the normal rules, but the winner gets to give the loser a bare-bottomed spanking.”

 

You could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed. “Are you serious?” I said. “A spanking?”

 

“That's right. Over the knee, right on the bare. Are you in?”

 

I thought about this. Kate was a very attractive girl, and the thought of pulling her jeans down and getting my hands on that curvy rear end was definitely appealing. But to have my own trousers and boxers lowered to stand bare-arsed in front of her, then go over her lap for a good smacking, sounded a lot less appealing. I'd won a few hands, but she was still better at the game than I was.

 

“Are you scared, Jack? Afraid that I'm going to damage your sensitive little buns with my wicked palm?” She tried to give me her best evil grin, but wasn't very successful. “If you're too chicken, we could just play for matchsticks again.”

 

I knew she was trying to manipulate me, but I wasn't going to let her call me a chicken. “I agree to the bet,” I told her. We shook on it, and she dealt the cards.

 

The next few minutes were some of the most tense moment of my life so far. I'd never felt more eager to win a game, and it looked like Kate was building a hand just as intensely as I was. Should I try to get a high pair, since any hand was better than none, or should I try for a flush or a straight? I eventually ended up with three nines.

 

“Three of a kind,” I told her as I put the cards down. She let her cards fall. For a few terrifying seconds, I thought she'd gotten a flush, which blew my hand right out of the water. But then I saw that it was a five of hearts, not a five of diamonds.

 

“I really thought I'd get that flush,” she said, sulking.

 

“Well, then,” I said. I tried my best to stop the smug smile spreading across my face, but it was quite impossible. “I've won the prize. I think I'm going to cash it in right away.” I patted my lap.

 

“Oh, did you think I was serious?” she said, avoiding my gaze. “I didn't MEAN all of that, it was just a bit of fun. You know what I'm like.”

 

As a matter of fact, I DID know what she was like – she often promised things, then tried her best to get out of delivering on it. But I wasn't about to be manipulated. “On your feet, Kate. We had a deal. We even shook on it.”

 

She stood up, both hands clasping her bottom protectively. “All right, but just a few smacks over my jeans.”

 

I shook my head. “On the bare, Kate. That was the deal.” I have to admit, I felt a bit disappointed that she was trying to weasel her way out of it like this. If SHE had won, there's no chance that she'd let me renege the deal afterwards.

 

Slowly, she stepped forward, until she was close enough that I could grab the waist of her jeans and pull her closer. I undid the button, then pulled the zipper down. She looked uncomfortable as I pulled her jeans down to her knees, and when I placed my fingers in the waistband of her panties, she protested. “Oh, come on. Can't I keep my panties on? They won't be much protection, honestly.”

 

Well, she was right about that. It didn't look like the thin cotton fabric would be much use, but I still started to lower them. “You should have thought about that before you made the deal, Kate.” I tried to give her my strictest glare, but to tell the truth, I don't think I was any better at that than Kate was at evil grins.

 

Her panties were now resting on her lowered jeans, and I was faced with a small patch of hair. It was the first time I saw a naked girl in real life, and I'm sorry to admit, I probably stared for far longer than I intended. Eventually, I regained my senses, and I patted my lap. “Over my knee, Kate.”

 

She eagerly bent over my knee, probably happy to shield her private area from my gaze. But her happiness was short-lived, and she whimpered as my hand started to stroke her bare bottom.

 

“Get on with it,” she snapped impatiently as my hand continued to wander across her backside. “The deal was for a spanking, not for you to grope my arse.”

 

“You're not in a position to make demands,” I told her, but I lifted my hand and started spanking her.

 

The first spanks were light, soft slaps that were barely audible in the silent room. She snorted. “Is that all you've got, Jack?” I slapped harder, but it was painfully obvious that I was new at this. I gathered my courage and started slapping her as hard as I could.

 

“Jesus,” she hissed. “I wasn't expecting that.”

 

I almost apologized, but stopped myself. Settling on a sort of middle ground, I delivered some firm, hard slaps, smacking first one cheek, then the other. I think I spanked about twice a second, trying to cover her entire bottom with spanks.

 

At first, she laid stoically across my lap, barely reacting to the spanking, but as the sting grew, she started to hiss and moan. Her squirming butt was the most delightful thing I'd ever seen, and a wide grin started to spread across my face as I spanked her.

 

She kicked her legs, arching her back as my palm stung her sit spots. By the time I decided she'd had enough, her entire posterior was bright pink.

 

After she rose to her feet, she dried some tears out of her eyes with one hand while rubbing her sore cheeks with the other. After a few minutes, she pulled her panties up, before stepping out her jeans and folding them up.

 

“I… I have to go,” she said, heading for the stairs. “Talk to you later.”

 

I watched her wriggling backside in those thin pink panties as she ascended the stairs, wondering what this event would do to our friendship. Sure, she was the one who'd suggested the bet, but had I gone too far? Staring at her pubic area, spanking her so hard?

 

Of course, at the time, I didn't know that Kate played with a marked deck. I didn't know that she'd only taught me to play to orchestrate a bet like this, or the significance of the soft moans I heard coming from her upstairs bathroom. Suffice it to say, this was far from the last time I spanked my gorgeous next-door neighbour.

Walked in on (M/F story)

Shortly after Peter turned nineteen, he decided to get a flat closer to the University where he was getting his degree. Up until then, he'd lived with his parents, but moving would give him a shorter walk, and it would allow him to study without his noisy sisters bothering him.

But he only became absolutely sure he'd made the right decision when he met his neighbour. Stacy was the same age as him, a bright and cheery student with a charming smile and long, brown hair that she usually kept in a ponytail. As they sat chatting at a bench outside, he could feel himself growing more attracted to her, and there was something about the way she smiled at him that suggested that she found him attractive as well.

A few weeks after he moved in, he decided to pay her a visit one Saturday morning. He knocked on the door to her flat, not even waiting for her to respond before he entered, and found her in the middle of changing. She was standing with her back to him, wearing nothing but a short t-shirt and a pair of panties that were currently half-way up her legs. His eyes were immediately drawn to her white, round rear end - an absolutely adorable sight.

“Hey!” she protested, blushing fiercely.

“Sorry,” he said, wincing. He had a feeling that this was the polite thing to do in this situation – apologize and look away. And he WAS going to look away. Any second now.

She was about to pull her panties all the way up, when an impish thought seemed to enter her mind. After reaching a decision, she removed her hands from the waistband of her panties, grinning to him as she slowly wriggled her bottom enticingly.

“Enjoying the view?” she said teasingly as she watched his eyes grow wide.

“Oh yes,” he told her. “It' sexy. Very spankable.”

She snorted. “Very WHAT?” she asked incredulously. “Spankable? What exactly does that mean?”

Peter winced. He'd rather not show her this side of himself so soon. “It means I really want to spank it,” he admitted. She giggled. “It IS a very attractive bottom,” he said.

“I have to say, that wasn't what I was expecting from you.” She finally pulled her panties up, seeming to consider his words as she approached him. “Okay,” she said.

“Okay what?” he asked confused.

“Spank me, then,” she said. Her voice was calm, but there was something in her eyes that told him she wasn't as confident as she tried to seem .“You've made me curious.”

His first instinct was that she was joking, but it was apparent that she was dead serious. He gently grabbed her arm and guided her over to the couch. He sat down, guiding her slim form over his lap. She gasped as she touched down on his strong thighs, and his hand started exploring her panty-clad bottom.

“Are you ready for this?” he asked her gently.

“As ready as I'll ever be,” she responded. And he started to spank her.

He gave her a series of light, slow spanks that gradually increased in speed. He spanked alternating cheeks, making sure to cover her backside from top to bottom. She wriggled a little at his touch.

“It's strange,” she told him. “Not exactly unpleasant, but definitely strange.”

Soon, he placed his fingers in the waistband of her panties. He stopped, waiting to hear if she would protest, but she didn't. No wonder, he thought to himself. He'd already seen her naked bottom. So he slid her panties down to her knees again. He started to spank her harder, grinning to himself as he heard her wince and moan whenever his hand impacted her bare flesh. She was rolling her hips in a mixture of pain and pleasure, and arching her back.

By the time he stopped spanking her, returning to a gentle rubbing, her bottom was turning bright pink. When he helped her to her feet and saw the lust in her gaze, his only question was whether they'd make it to her bedroom, or just do it right here on the couch.

Part II: Pictures
Over the following months, Peter spanked his girlfriend many, many times. One morning, she gave him a nervous look as they ate breakfast. “I have a favour to ask you,” she said. “It has to do with spanking. You can say no, if you want to.”

“I sincerely doubt I will,” he told her. When he'd first introduced her to the world of consensual spankings, she'd turned out to be a lot more experimental than he was, but he'd enjoyed every single thing her twisted little mind had come up with so far.

She retrieved her laptop. “I've been looking at a lot of blogs lately,” she told him. “And I found this picture.” She turned the screen toward him, showing him a picture of a young woman. She was kneeling with her torso on the bed, shoving her naked bottom up toward the camera – a bottom that had been decorated with some rather hard cane strokes.

“I'd like you to take a picture like that,” she admitted. “Of me.”

“You want me to cane you?” he asked.

She bit her lip. “Look at those marks,” she told him. “They're beautiful!”

“And pretty painful, from what I've heard. Are you sure about this?”

“Absolutely. I went shopping yesterday, and I managed to find this!” and she reached under the couch, pulling out a long, thin object wrapped in cloth. She unwrapped it, revealing a thin rattan cane that she held out toward him, handle first.

He swished it through the air a couple of times. He saw Stacy tremble a little at the sound – she wasn't as unfazed as she pretended to be. He decided that today, he would play the role of her strict disciplinarian. “Right, young lady. Raise your skirt and place your hands on that table.”

Jumping a little at his tone of voice, she immediately did as he instructed. He walked up behind her. “Since you've been such a bad girl lately, I've decided to give you a good caning on your bare bottom.” He placed his hands in the waistband of her panties, slowly lowering them. “Maybe that'll teach you a lesson.”

“Please, sir, I'll be good,” she pleaded.

“Oh, I have no doubt about that,” he told her. “Because you'll have a very sore bottom to remind you to behave.” Staring at her bare, quivering cheeks, he picked up the cane and tapped it against his target. He decided to be gentle at first – after all, he'd never caned anyone before, and she'd never been caned before. But even then, his first stroke caused her to arch her back, hissing.

“Remain in position, young lady. We have a long way to go.” He swung the cane again, trying to place this stroke just below the previous one. He hoped to create a series of parallel lines, but he could already tell that it wasn't going to happen. It was a lot harder to aim the cane than he'd thought, but he decided not to tell her that. “I have no idea what I'm doing” wasn't a very comforting thing to hear from your spanker.

He placed the third stroke low on her bottom, causing her to stamp her feet. “I hope you're learning your lesson, young lady. I don't want to this again,” he lectured. And for once, that was actually true.

“I am, sir. Believe me, I am!” She sounded close to tears.

Again and again, he swung the cane at her trembling cheeks, and was absolutely amazed at the way she handled it. She grit her teeth and gripped the table, remaining in position for every stroke he gave her. Tears were rolling down her cheeks, but she didn't cry out, and she never tried to rub her bottom.

When he put the cane down and told her to stand up, she rushed over to the tall mirror she'd hung on the wall for just this purpose. Turning her back to the mirror and looking over her shoulder, she admired the stripes decorating her cheeks. “It's beautiful!” she gasped. “Totally amazing.” She rubbed her fingers over the stinging lines. He smiled to himself – she seemed to like his handiwork a lot more than he did.

He picked up his cell phone, pulling out his camera. “We're not finished yet, girl. Go to your bedroom and kneel on the bed.”

“Huh? Oh yes, the pictures. Right away, sir.”

She assumed the position, giving him a flirty wink as he took the picture of her burning bottom. He knew that as soon as he'd gotten enough pictures, she'd rush him for a long kiss and a round in the sack. And every day, he thanked his lucky stars for having a girlfriend like that.

Something to show you (F/F story)

 As I prepared to head home after school, I felt a hand on my shoulder and Jane beamed up at me, a secretive smile playing on her lips. Jane Salford was one of the girls in my class, and we'd become good friends over the last year or so. She was a short girl, very attractive, and intelligent. "I've something secret to show you, Braden. Care to come with me?"

"What is it?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

She shook her head. "If I told you, it wouldn't be a secret, would it? If you want to find out, you'd better come with me." Jane had always been a bit strange, and I knew whatever it was, it was something I wouldn't forget. So, why not?

15 minutes later, we were at a small house in the southern part of town. She knocked on the door to announce her arrival, but didn't wait for anyone to open before entering. I followed her into the living room, where a young woman was standing, waiting for Jane. She was tall, with long, brown hair, and wearing a blue cotton dress, but no shoes or socks. I'd say she was in her late twenties or early thirties. Her eyes widened when she spotted me.

"This is Braden. He's a friend of mine," Jane said. "You remember I told you we might have an audience today, Christine?"

The woman nodded. "Yes, Miss Salford, you mentioned that." I raised an eyebrow – I'd never heard Jane being called 'Miss' by anyone before, and hearing it from a woman who was more than a decade older than her sounded a bit strange.

"Why don't you sit down in the sofa?" she said to me with a friendly smile. "That will give you a very nice view of what's going to happen." I wanted to ask her what exactly was about to happen, but I knew that even if I got an answer out of her, it wouldn't be an answer that made any semblance of sense.

I sat down, and Jane moved closer to Christine, with a smile on her lips that was decidedly less friendly than the one she'd given me – unless the grin on a cat sneaking up on a cornered mouse can be described as friendly. The woman was about a foot taller than Jane, and more than a decade older, but there was no doubt that Jane was the one in charge.

"Have you been a good girl lately?" Jane asked her gently. When the woman shook her head, Jane suddenly glared at her." Speak up, girl!"

"N-no, Miss Salford, I haven't," Christine, squirming a little. She kept glancing over at me, as if she wanted me to go away. I just sat there and wondered what would happen next.

"No, you haven't, have you. You've been a bad girl. And what happens to bad girls around here?"

Christine looked over at me yet again, then back to Jane. Her eyes begged Jane to not force her to say it. But Jane was unmoved, and the woman took a deep breath. "They are spanked, Miss Salford."

I stared open-mouthed as the tall woman blushingly lowered her eyes. Had I heard that correctly? Was she really going to be SPANKED?

"That's right, Christine, they are spanked. Good and hard on their bare little bottoms." She picked up a large wooden chair that was leaning against the wall, and placed it in the centre of the room. She then looked at Christine. "Take off your dress."

Christine blushed as she reached for the zipper at the back of her dress. She moved slowly, and with a face as if she wanted to be a million miles away, but there was no hesitation or resistance – she'd been ordered to do it, and so, she did. She let the dress fall to the ground, picked it up and folded it, and placed it on the nearby table. She was now dressed only in her thin bra and panties, which were the same colour as her dress.

Jane, who was now sitting in the wooden chair, smiled encouragingly at her, before patting her lap. “Get your butt over my knee, girl.”

Christine walked over to stand at Jane's side, before gently lowering herself forward over the girl's lap. Her feet and hands were both touching the ground, with her backside lifted high over Jane's knee. Jane slowly rubbed her hand in circles on the pale flesh of Christine's cheeks, her face displaying a look of absolute glee. Suddenly, her palm delivered a firm smack that made Christine toss her head back in pain. It was followed by half a dozen equally firm smacks. I stared in wonder as Jane brought her hand slapping down on the backside in front of her, grinning maniacally as she moved her hand from cheek to cheek up and down her bottom. Christine was kicking her legs, trying to stop herself from moaning in pain. At least, I think it was pain.

It was surreal. Less than half an hour ago, we had sat in the classroom, listening to Miss Winters drone on about early Egyptian architecture, and now, I was watching my friend gleefully spank the daylights out of some adult woman I had never met before.

I felt a twinge of disappointment when Jane stopped the spanking and told her to get to her feet. Christine rubbed her bottom with both hands, dancing from foot to foot as she tried to get the sting under control. It was a very enjoyable sight, but to my surprise, it wasn't over yet.

“Take off your bra,” Jane told her. Without hesitation, Christine did as she had been ordered. She reached for her panties, but when she looked at Jane, the schoolgirl shook her head. “No, I want you to ask Braden to take them off.”

My eyes opened wide. Was I going to be part of this as well?

Christine walked over to the sofa, placing both hands firmly on her head before she looked down at me. “I have been a very bad girl and deserve a bare-bottom spanking. Please take my panties down.” She glanced over at Jane, probably to see if she had asked nicely enough, and breathed a sigh of relief when Jane gave a quick nod.

My hands were trembling like mad when I reached forward and placed my thumbs in the waistband of her panties. Slowly, savouring every second of the experience, I began to lower them, almost gasping as her pubic hair came into view. I'd never seen a real-life naked woman before, and it was a lot different than looking at a screen.

Soon, I had pulled the panties all the way down, just staring at the sight in front of me. Jane giggled – it seemed she found the look on my face quite funny, and I knew she'd tease for me later. I didn't care.

“Turn around, Christine. Let him have a look at your bottom.” She did as instructed, and even bent forward a bit to stick her bottom in my face. “Touch her, Braden. Feel how warm the skin is.” Christine didn't protest, so I reached forward and began to gently rub my hand over her bottom. Her skin was warm to the touch, and it felt wonderful to rub my hand all over it. At one point, I was rubbing between her sit spots when I could feel her growing tense, and I realized that my hand had moved too close for comfort. I pulled back, and Christine sighed. Was that a relieved sigh, or a disappointed one?

“Enough fun,” Jane said. While we were busy, she'd moved the chair back into its place along the wall. “Christine, I want you to stand in the centre of the room and grab your ankles.”

Christine did as instructed, and Jane walked over to her side, with the naked woman between me and her. “Are you ready for the last part of your spanking, Christine?”

“Yes, Miss Salford,”, she replied.

She yelped as Jane started to spank her, moving from cheek to cheek with a vigorous enthusiasm. Christine winced and grimaced, she hissed in pain and pleaded for mercy, but it fell on deaf ears. But no matter what Jane did to her bottom, she remained in position, her hands clutching her ankles and her bottom sticking out.

By the time Jane had finished, Christine's face was covered in tears, and bottom was bright red.

“Go stand in the corner and think about what you've done,” Jane told her. Christine moved into the closest corner, both hands locked firmly on her head and her nose touching the wall.

Jane sat down next to me. “Did you enjoy the show?” she asked me. I nodded.

I wanted to ask her how it had all started. How she'd met Christine. Why she had started spanking her. How a grown woman could bend over a schoolgirl's knee for a spanking, or ask a schoolboy to pull her panties down. But I knew that Jane wouldn't answer in a way that would actually tell me something. So, I just stared at the woman sobbing in the corner.

Jane put her arm around my shoulder. “So,” she said. “Do you want to go see a film this Saturday?”

Wardrobe malfunction (M/F story)

It was the middle of summer, and I had found a hotel apartment near the beach. I had a brand-new and very cute bikini, and was going to spend the day reading at the beach and seeing if there were any cute boys around. This was shaping up to a be a very nice summer.

As I stood there planning my day, I heard a door open, and the guy in the apartment next to mine appeared. I glanced at him, and my jaw dropped. He was a tall guy, with a handsome face and long, dark hair. About a year or two older than me, I'd guessed. He was dressed in bathing shorts, and his chest revealed that he worked out regularly. I'd love to say that I sent him a confident and flirty look, but to tell you the truth, I think I may have drooled.

Whatever I did, it was apparently good enough, because he approached me. “Hi,” he said, beaming at me as he extended his hand. “I'm Jason.”

After a second or two, I'd regained enough of my faculties to shake his hand. “I'm Katherine,” I said. “But most people call me Kitty.” I watched him raise an eyebrow, and mentally cursed myself for telling him that last part.

“Cute,” he told me and nodded – which made me feel a lot better about myself.

“I was just going down to the beach,” I told him. “Care to join me?”

“I'd love to,” he said, flashing his pearly-white teeth at me.

We grabbed a couple of towels and walked along the beach chatting to each other for a while before stopping for an ice-cream. I told him that I was English, and had saved up my money for quite a while to afford a vacation like this. He was from Belgium, and in rather the same situation. He'd worked as a waiter for a while, was learning to play the guitar, and liked to read science fiction. To tell you the truth, I didn't catch as much of what he said as I'd have liked – I was too busy enjoying walking next to him, staring dreamily at him when he wouldn't notice.

A few hours later, we were playing with a beach ball in the sand. He threw it a little too hard at one point, and it flew just over my head. I ran to pick it up, but just as I bent my back and grabbed it, I heard something snap. I was still bent over, trying to figure out what it was, when I saw something touch down on the sand next to my feet. A shiver ran down my spine as I saw that it was the bottom of my bathing suit. It had snapped.

I was bent over, showing my bare butt to the cute boy I'd just met.

I'd love to say that I jumped to my feet, immediately covering up, but truthfully, I was too shocked to move. Seconds passed before I managed to get up, picking up my bikini bottoms and what remained of my dignity.

I managed to glance over at Jason, hoping that he'd done the gentlemanly thing and turned his eyes away. From the look on his face, I could tell he hadn't. He was staring at me, a bit too wide-eyed for my liking.

“Could you get my towel?” I asked in a tiny voice, covering myself with my hands as best as I could. I looked around. Luckily, this part of the beach was almost deserted, but someone could walk past at any moment, and I wasn't sure my reputation could survive that.

“Huh? Oh, sure,” he said, grabbing the towel and handing it to me. He finally turned his gaze away, and I wrapped the towel around my waist.

We walked back to the apartments in silence. I could tell that there was something on his mind, but whatever it was, I hoped he wouldn't say it. The damage was done, there was nothing he could say that could save my dignity, and trying could only make things worse.

“So, Kitty,” he said after a while. I mentally braced myself for whatever was about to come out of his mouth. “I couldn't help but notice that you looked a bit... pink.”

I frowned as I wondered just how much of me he had seen, but my eyes widened in horror when I realized what he meant.

“Like.... like you'd been spanked.”

I grimaced. I had forgotten all about that – the sting was long gone, with nothing but a little pinkness remaining.

“Is everything OK back home? Are you.... safe?” he said, concerned.

“Perfectly safe, yes, thank you for your concern, but it's nothing,” I told him, trying my fiercest to get him to change the subject.

“Who spanked you?” he asked. I briefly considered telling him that I had a strict, old-fashioned father, or a boss that dealt with tardiness in time-honoured ways, but I decided to tell him the truth.

“I did.”

“What?” he said, and I almost giggled at the lost and confused look on his face. I could do with a laugh right now.

I told him my story. How I'd always been fascinated by spanking when I spotted it in films or books, and how I'd felt a secret thrill when seeing some misbehaving lady being put across someone's knee. How I'd dreamt about actually getting a proper spanking, right on my bare bottom, but had never found someone to deliver it. And how, in the long nights of longing, I'd picked up my hairbrush and decided to help myself. It wasn't enough, but it was at least something.

“Wow,” he said at the end of my little tale. I'm sure it was a lot to process. But after a few seconds, he smiled down at me. “Hey, I'd like to be your friend. If you ever need a hand....”

Once again, I had to stop myself from giggling. He was taking this a lot better than I had expected.

A few minutes later, we were back at the apartments. “So, do you want to get dressed and go back to the beach, or do you want to rest for a bit?” I appreciated that he was trying to let me forget about what had happened. “We could go out to dinner later...”

“Actually,” I said as I opened the door. “I was wondering if you'd like to come inside?” I felt my face blush bright red. “I think I... need a hand with something....”

He grinned, and followed me into the apartment. I locked the door, to prevent anyone from barging in on what was about to happen. He sat down on the couch, and I walked over to him.

“I hear you've been a bad girl,” he said, trying to look strict. It didn't work very well.

“Maybe,” I said, biting my lip gently.

“And what happens to bad girls, Kitty?”

“They get spanked, sir,” I said, blushing bright red. I could barely say the word.

“Yes, they do.” He reached forward and took hold of my towel. I didn't resist as he tugged at it, letting it fall to the floor. He smiled with hungry eyes as I stood before him in nothing but my bikini top, before he gently grabbed hold of my arm and guided me over his lap.

'This is actually happening', I told myself. 'I am actually going across this cute boy's lap for a spanking'. I couldn't believe this. This day was turning out a lot better than I'd hoped.

His hand started to rub my bottom. I pushed it against his palm to encourage him, and he lifted his hand and gave me a gentle swat.

“Mmm,” I purred. “Keep going.”

He continued to rub, before giving me another gentle swat, this one to my other cheek. A bit of rubbing, before another swat landed.

He started to spank me properly, his hand covering my bottom with warm and stinging spanks. I moaned a little to let him know he was on the right track, wriggling my bottom enticingly. Suddenly, I gasped.

“Was that too hard?” he asked with concern in his voice.

“No, it's not that,” I said as I adjusted my position on his lap. “You're poking me in the ribs.”

He realized what I meant. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly.

I giggled. “Don't be,” I told him. “I'm glad you're enjoying this as much as I am.”

After a brief pause, he continued the spanking, and I started to squirm as the heat in my seat began to build up. I was moaning loudly now. I had dreamt about spankings for a decade, but actually being over someone's lap was better than I had ever believed.

Every slap of his hand lit another flame on my rear end, and after what seemed like hours, I asked him to stop. He helped me to my feet, and started to ask me something, but I grabbed his shoulders and kissed him. It was half a minute before I had to stop for breath. “Thank you!” I gasped. “That was.... thank you!” I kissed him again.

“So, do you want to rest for a bit? Should I get you an ice-pack or -” I placed my finger on his lips to shut him up.

“You have no idea what effect that had on me,” I told him. “Carry me into the bedroom, and I'll show you.”

We had a very late dinner that day.

In trouble at school, in trouble at home (m/f story)

It was Friday afternoon, and I could feel my stomach tying itself in knots as I slowly walked home. I had really hoped that Miss Winters wouldn't notice my little cheat sheet when I pulled it out in class, but the old bag was a lot more observant than she usually is. She was not happy when she spotted it, lecturing me in front of the entire class about how a good girl should behave. She even gave me detention, and I'd spent the last hour writing “I must not cheat” on the blackboard while she glared at me over her glasses. My arm stung like crazy by the time she let me go, but it wasn't my arm I was worried about. It was my bottom.

 

My parents had always followed that old line about “In trouble at school, in trouble at home.” The school didn't believe in corporal punishment anymore, but my parents certainly did! And being put in detention for cheating would definitely earn me a spanking. As I walked, I started chewing my fingernail and wondering how I'd get it. If dad was home, he'd probably take off his belt and bend me over a chair. He'd strap me until I was sobbing loudly. If I was lucky, he'd still be at work, but that meant being put across mum's knee for a dose of her old wooden hairbrush. Both options made my bottom tingle just thinking about it. Whatever happened, I certainly wouldn't be sitting comfortably this weekend.

 

When I came home, I put my backpack down near the door and spotted a note on the kitchen table. What was it now? Had the school phoned them, and these were their instructions for my punishment? Had they laid some terrible plans for my poor posterior? I picked up the note, and almost laughed out loud with joy. My parents had been planning a quick trip out of town during the weekend. They were supposed to leave Saturday morning, but had decided to take a few hours off work and leave today. There were some things about money in the jar and not spending it all on pizza, but I didn't care. They didn't know about my detention! My butt was safe.

 

That was the moment that my little brother chose to enter the kitchen. “Hi, Debra,” he said, reaching for a glass. “Late today?” Jack was three years younger than me, but his growth spurt meant that he was about the same height.

 

“Uh – I decided to do a bit of homework in the library,” I told him. I didn't want my younger brother to know I'd been placed in detention.

 

“No, you didn't,” he said flatly. “You've never done anything like that before, and I don't suspect you'll start doing it on a Friday.” He drank some water, and watched me with a look of curiosity on his face.

 

“Oh, I just went to the mall for a bit,” I said, hoping that would sound more believable.

 

“Then why didn't you just tell me that, instead of lying?” he said. I could almost feel his gaze trying to read the truth from my face, and feeling uncomfortable, I turned away.

 

“You got detention, didn't you?” he said at last, and chuckled at the look on my face. “What did you do?”

 

“N-no, I was just...” I said, still trying to bluff my way out of it.

 

“Don't lie to me! What did you do?” he said, with a strictness in his voice that surprised me.

 

“I... I cheated on a test.”

 

His eyes widened. “Wow!” he said. “When mum and dad hear about this, they're going to paddle your butt HARD!”

 

I winced. That was my guess too. “They don't know about it,” I pointed out.

 

“Not yet,” he replied. “But I don't see why I shouldn't tell them.”

 

Ah. That would be a problem. If Jack told them about this, my fate was sealed. I mentally went through my options, and in the end, I decided to look pleadingly at him. “Please, Jack,” I said, fluttering my eyelashes. “I've already been punished at school. You don't HAVE to tell them, do you? It could be our little secret. Just between you and me.”

 

I didn't like the look that suddenly spread across his face, but I kept fluttering.

 

“Debra, I'm going to give you a choice: Either I tell mum and dad about your detention, or I punish you myself.”

 

“Punish?” I asked, confused. What was he suggesting?

 

“I'll take you across my lap and spank your bottom,” he explained, a wide grin on his face.