The inappropriate costume (M/F story)

 Based on a drawing by Skekpen.

Thomas sighed and stretched as he arrived home from his shift at the gas station. True, these evening shifts paid better than the day shifts, but the number of crazies he had to deal with was also a lot higher. And today was Halloween, which hardly made things better. The 25-year-old wished he could have traded shifts with someone, so he could have gone to a Halloween party with his girlfriend instead, but none of his coworkers had been willing. Which was fair enough – if he'd been in their shoes, he wouldn't have traded either.

"Oh, hey, honey," Zoe said, smiling at him from the other end of the living room. She was sitting at the dining table going through a pile of sweets.

He could feel the stress of the workday draining as he watched her happy little face. Zoe was a petite, red-haired woman with a perky disposition, a trusting nature, and an almost terminal lack of common sense. "Hello, darling. Where did you get the sweets?"

"I went trick-or-treating," she said cheerily, grabbing another caramel from the pile.

He raised an eyebrow. "You're twenty-two. Aren't you a little old for that?"

"No one arrested me for it," she said with a shrug. "Want to see my costume?" When he nodded, she retrieved a hairband from the other side of the table. Two black cardboard pieces had been taped to the top, resembling rabbit ears. She placed it on her head, stood up, and looked eagerly at him. "What do you think?" she asked, twirling to give him a proper look.

Thomas stared. After a few seconds, he finally regained the ability to speak. "And where," he said in the calmest voice he could muster, "is the rest of it?"

Zoe was wearing a long-sleeved black shirt, long black socks, black shoes, and the black headband. The problem was that between the bottom of the shirt and the top of her socks, the only thing protecting her modesty was a small pair of black panties with a large, white cotton wad sewed onto the seat.

"What do you mean?" she said, furrowing her brow as she looked down at her attire. "This is it." She noticed the expression on his face. "What's wrong with it? Don't you like it?"

"For wearing at home? Wonderful! At a party? Maybe, if it's the right sort of party, and I'm there with you," he said, still trying to remain calm. "Out on the streets? Not a chance."

She glared at him. "People were happy to see me! I got a ton of sweets, you know," she said, nodding to the pile on the table.

"And these people who gave you sweets," he said, "were they mostly middle-aged men?"

She huffed, folding her arms as she tried to pout him into submission. "Yes," she admitted.

Sighing, he picked up one of the dining chairs and placed in the middle of the floor. As he sat down, he patted his lap. "Come here, Zoe."

Past misdeeds, part 2: A new uniform (F/F story)

I whistled happily as I walked down the street – not exactly fitting my tattooed punk aesthetic, but I was ecstatic, so I didn’t care. Last Saturday, I had been approached in a bar by my old classmate Katie, who admitted that she'd been the one smoking in the classroom back in our school days – something I'd been blamed for, which had earned me a spanking in front of the class, with my skirt up and my panties down. She'd apologized, and despite now being in our late twenties, we'd somehow ended up deciding that I should take the little blonde over my knee and spank her bare bottom for what she did to me back then. I had thoroughly enjoyed watching her squirm and squeal over my lap, and had convinced her that to truly pay for her sins, she should get two more spankings from me over the following two weeks. It would only be fair, after all.

And now, I was on my way to her apartment to deliver the second one.

I was obviously looking forward to smacking her cute little rear end, but I was also eager to see how she was dressed. On Wednesday, I had phoned her up and asked her to get a school uniform.

"But we didn't wear uniforms back in school," she said dubiously. "I think you wore a miniskirt and a thong when you were spanked."

"That's right, but it would be fitting, wouldn't it?" I said calmly. Katie was always easily convinced by anyone speaking confidently. "You are being punished for something you did as a schoolgirl, so you should dress as one as well." Of course, my real reason was that I thought the petite woman would look cute as a button in it – particularly while being spanked.

I approached her apartment and rang the doorbell. The door opened slightly, and I saw her peeking through the crack. "Oh, it's you, Vanessa," she said with a sigh of relief as she opened the door. "There was a charity collector guy here half an hour ago, and I opened the door thinking it was you. I almost died with shame – I didn't want anyone else to see me like this."

She was wearing a white schoolgirl's blouse with a blue tie, a matching blue skirt, and long, white socks. She had tied her long, blonde hair in blue ribbons. As I had predicted, she was absolutely adorable, and I could feel my palm beginning to itch just looking at her.

Past misdeeds, part 1: An old acquaintance (F/F story)

"Vanessa? It IS you, isn't? it?” I looked up to see that the little blonde in the white top and pink shorts who had been looking at me for the last few minutes, had approached my table in the bar. As a six-foot woman with purple hair and a lot of tattoos, I'm used to people staring, but I now realized that this woman knew me.

And now that she had come closer, and I'd heard her voice, I recognized her as well. "Katie? I haven't seen you since high school! Wow, it's been ten years already, hasn't it?"

I gave her some polite phrases in my most monotonous voice, trying to make it clear that I wasn't really interested in a conversation with her. The two of us had never been friends, despite being classmates since primary school; she'd been a popular, fashion-obsessed straight-A student, while I was a punk troublemaker, and not excessively straight. I didn't particularly care how, what, or who she was doing, and if given a choice, I would prefer to be alone with my beer.

Katie, however, had never been good at picking up cues, so she sat down at my table. She managed to chat about the old days without much input from me, though she seemed a bit distracted, as if there was something on her mind. After a few minutes, a blush spread across her cheeks, and she went quiet as if gathering her thoughts, which seemingly took some effort. After a few seconds of silence – not nearly long enough in my view – she took a deep breath and spoke. "Do you remember the cigarette pack?"

I didn't have to ask her what she was referring to. Back in our school days, someone had been smoking in the classroom during lunch one day, dropping the cigarette butts out the window. A terrible lack of subtlety, I’m sure you’ll agree. We never knew who it was, but since I was the class troublemaker, the teacher blamed me. Despite protesting my innocence, Miss Taylor dragged me to the front of the class and pulled me over her knee. She then raised my miniskirt, lowered my thong, and spanked my bare bottom in front of the class.

Topless tanning (M/F story)

Pearl sighed happily to herself as she turned another page of the novel she was reading. She was lying on a sunbed in the backyard, wearing nothing but a thong, on one of the hottest days of the year, letting the warm rays caress her back. She had a good novel, a can of soda, and nothing that needed to be done. Life was good.

A shadow fell over her, and she glanced up to see the stern face of her boyfriend Ryan. She started guiltily, then quickly recovered, and smiled up at him. "Ryan! You're home early, aren't you? Was the work-trip nice?"

"What do you think you are doing?" he said in a strict voice.

Pearl looked up at him for a few seconds, trying to seem confused, then shrugged. "...Reading? Sunbathing? Being happy?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You know what I mean. Where is your bikini top?"

"Right here," she said, nodding to the garment lying next to the sunbed.

Ryan pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a frustrated sound. "You know perfectly well what I meant, Pearl. Why are you lying here topless?"

Pearl sat up on the bed, as it was slowly becoming clear that Ryan had no intention of either joining her or going away and leaving her alone. "I wanted a proper tan."

"You know my feelings about sunbathing naked out here where the neighbours can see," he said as he folded his arms and glared down at her.

She shrugged. She didn't understand why he made such a big deal about this. "The fences are too high. They can't see anything. And besides, I'm not naked – I'm wearing bikini briefs, aren't I?"

He glanced down at the skimpy thong, before shaking his head. "Pearl, you aren't going to talk your way out of this. You broke one of my rules, and you know what I'm going to do know, don't you?"

Pearl pouted, glaring up at him. She knew perfectly well what he meant to do. Breaking one of Ryan's silly rules only had one outcome – a good, sound spanking, usually on her bare bottom.

She rose to her feet and started to stomp off to the bedroom, where her punishments usually took place, but he grabbed her arm. "Where do you think you're going, young lady?"

The naughty maid and the visitor (M/F story)

Scarlett wiped perspiration from her brow, wishing she could have worn something a little less warm than her maid uniform while working on a hot day like this.

Lady Bowman's good friend Baroness Starr was coming for an extended visit, accompanied by her adult nephew Jacob. Scarlett and the other employees had been told to prepare the manor for the grand visit, and Scarlett was dusting the bedrooms. She'd finished the suite that the Baroness would be staying in, and was now working on Mister Starr's quarters. There wasn't a lot left to do, but she was now quite tired, and was longing for a rest.

Glancing at one of the comfy chairs, she desperately wanted to sit down for a few minutes. Well, why not? She had more than an hour to finish cleaning before the guests arrived, which was far more than she needed. As she sat down, making herself comfortable on the soft chair, she decided that she'd sit here for a short while – five minutes, not more – just to get her strength back.


She awoke to the sound of liquid being poured into a glass. Jerking awake, the disoriented woman looked around the room, trying to get her bearings. A handsome, red-haired man was sitting on the bed opposite her, watching her with an amused grin on his face and a decanter and drinking glass in his hands. From the expensive clothes he was wearing, she guessed it was the Baroness' nephew.

"Ah, you're awake," he said good-humouredly. "It's been..." he glanced at his watch. "Five minutes since I entered the room, and you haven't stirred once. You must have been tired." He handed her the glass. "Some brandy to help you wake up."

Scarlett jumped to her feet, hastily trying to straighten the skirt of her uniform in a vain attempt to give a better first impression by appearing more presentable. "I am terribly sorry, sir! I didn't mean to fall asleep on the job – I just thought I'd rest for a few minutes!"

He chuckled. It was apparent that he found the whole situation quite amusing. "Oh, it turned out to be a little more than that – but that just shows you needed it."

He still held the glass in her direction, and Scarlett attempted to wave it away. "Oh, that brandy is not for the servants, Jacob. Mister Starr, I mean!" she quickly corrected herself, silently berating herself. Referring to Lady Bowman's honoured guests by their first name would not be popular with her employer.

"The bottle was a gift from the Lady to myself, which means I can do with it whatever I want – and I'm giving you a glass", he said calmly. "Now be a good girl and drink. I think you need that as well."

Reluctantly, Scarlett accepted the glass. She put it to her lips, coughing as the unfamiliar liquid burned her throat. Maids were obviously not permitted to drink the Lady's expensive brandy, and unlike some of her fellow maids, Scarlett had never been courageous enough to try to steal some.

"There. Do you feel better now? Properly awake?" his eyes sparkled with mirth as he took the glass from her hand and placed it next to the decanter on the nightstand. She nodded. "What is your name?"

"Scarlett, sir," she answered, wondering why in the world this rich nobleman wanted to know the lowly maid's name. A dreadful suspicion suddenly struck her, and she held her hands pleadingly out towards him. "Oh, please don't tell Lady Bowman that I fell asleep on the job! I couldn't bear it if she found out."

"Oh?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "What would happen? Would the old lady take you over her knee and spank your little bottom?"

Punished at the beach (M/f story)

A return of the characters from Cleanup.

 

Mindy felt very strongly that there were some days that were just too warm and wonderful to spend in a dusty high school classroom, so the eighteen-year-old had decided to call in sick and spend the day on the beach with her girlfriends. They'd brought a few sixpacks with them on the bus, and were planning to get drunk and flirt with guys. Mindy had always been tall and skinny, and felt that her bikini wasn't as filled-out as she'd like, but as long as it was skimpy enough, it didn't matter much.

Her best friend Courtney had declined to join them – she felt too self-conscious to wear a bikini, and had no desire to end up in trouble – but Mindy was sure they'd have a good time without her.

They'd been there a few hours, and Mindy had started chatting to a handsome surfer named Jake, when she heard her name being called from the other end of the beach. She looked up to see a tall, athletic man walking toward her with a scowl on his face. Her big brother Robert had arrived to spoil her fun.

She rose from the sand and walked to meet him. As she approached, he folded his arms and glared at her. "I was driving past and spotted you and your little buddies partying. Why aren't you at school, young lady?"

"I felt sick," she said, trying to seem calm and blasé in front of her friends.

He raised an eyebrow. "And you thought going to the beach and drinking beer was the best medicine?"

She shrugged. "I felt better, so I decided to head out." Despite her attempts to seem cool and confident, she could feel a blushing tingeing her cheeks, and fought to keep it back. Being scolded by her strict older brother was never fun, but having it happen in front of her friends – plus the cute boy she was trying to flirt with – made it a thousand times worse. In her tipsy state, she decided that the best path forward was to show no weakness and treat it as a joke.

"You felt better, so you decided to go to the beach, instead of to school, where you should have been?" He sighed. "I'm not stupid, Mindy. It was a nice day, so you decided to skip school. Well, I'm taking you there right now."

She smiled as she glanced down at her bikini. "And you don't think the outfit is going to raise any eyebrows?" Giggles could be heard from the silently watching crowd – she'd scored a point.

"I'm taking you home to put some clothes on first, of course," he acknowledged. "But then – "

"By the time we get to school," she pointed out, "the day will be practically over, so there's no point in going there." Grinning at her victory, she brought her can of beer to her lips, but Robert snatched it out of her hand.

"Well, I'm taking you home at any rate," he said, in a voice that would have made her shiver if she'd been sober enough to care.

"You are doing no such thing," she said, folding her arms in front of her, trying to stare him down.

"Mindy. We are going home, where we're going to discuss this in private." This time, his tone of voice managed to penetrate her beer-addled brain, and she realized what he meant. This would be one of those discussions where he'd lecture her, put her over his knee, and spank her bare bottom until she was sobbing. The look on his face confirmed her dreadful suspicions. There was no doubt that this was what was waiting for her back home.

Of course, she had no desire to go through this, so she concluded that the best path forward was to remain stubborn. She turned her back on him. "You can go wherever the hell you want," she told him. "But I'm staying here."

When he stepped forward and grabbed her wrist, and she saw the look of steel on his face, she began to realize that she'd made a mistake. "Oh? You don't want to go home for our discussion? You want to remain here? Fine. We'll discuss it right here, right now... in front of your friends."

Broken Promise 2: Home from the party (M/F story)

Sequel to Broken Promise.

 

"I don't see why we have to go to this party," Sydney grumbled as she tried to pick out a dress to wear. Or should she go with a skirt? Actually, maybe she should choose jeans...

"We are going because we've been at this college for two months, and you still haven't really talked to anyone," her boyfriend Gabriel explained calmly. "We're going because it'll be good for you to get out of the apartment – you can't just lie under a blanket on the couch all day."

"But I LIKE lying under the blanket," she whined. "Especially when I'm cuddling with you."

He smiled at her. "I like that too – but going outside occasionally is good for you, and you need to meet new people. And I'll be there at your side the entire evening, if you want to."

"But I have a new Dorian Hart novel I was planning to read today," she complained. "Don't I get a choice here?"

"Of course you have a choice," he said as he walked over to her, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. "You can get dressed, come to the party with me, and have a good time..." He gave her bottom a few taps that weren't quite as gentle as she would have liked. "Or I can take you across my knee, spank your little butt until it's bright red and you're squealing, and THEN we get dressed and go to the party."

She pouted. "You're mean and unfair and not half as funny as you think you are."

"Those are your options," he told her. "Make a choice, before I make it for you."

The Booty Call (M/F story)

Veronica smiled when she heard his firm baritone voice on the phone. "Jacob here."

"It's Veronica," she said sweetly. "I was feeling lonely this evening, and I was wondering if you were too busy to come over and give my booty a good spanking." Jacob only lived a ten-minute walk away, so he could often be available when Veronica decided she needed a strict man on short notice.

He chuckled. "I think I can find time for that in my schedule, young lady," he replied. "Would you like me to come over and spank your bottom right now?"

She nodded, before remembering that she was on the phone and he couldn't see her. "As soon as possible, please."

"I'm almost ready to head out, so I'll be there in twenty minutes. I want you to go to the corner in your bedroom right now and wait for me."

She pouted. "Do I have to?" she whined. "Please? I don't like time-outs."

"Yes, you have to," he responded in a voice that made it clear it was not open to debate. "When I arrive, I want you in the proper mindset for a sound spanking - and twenty minutes in the corner will accomplish that. When I let myself in, I expect to find you facing the corner, hands on your head and bottom bare. Is that clear, young lady?"

"Yes, sir. I will do as you say," she said, switching to her meekest, most compliant voice.

"Good girl." She could almost hear the grin on his face as he hung up.

Veronica rolled her eyes. Did he really expect her to stand in the corner in an empty house? She had always hated corner time and never understood Jacob's obsession with it. Whenever they got together to play, it always seemed like they had too little time, and he wanted her to waste large parts of it staring at the wallpaper. She could spend that time being spanked, or being comforted afterward, or they could cuddle up on the couch to watch TV - anything except just standing there with her hands on her head and her bottom bare. She couldn't think of a worse waste of their precious moments. She didn't know who'd invented corner time, but she hoped they'd been properly punished for it.

And now she was being told to stand in the corner even when she was alone? She shouldn't be expected to punish herself - that was HIS job. Well, she had no intention of obeying. She would hear him when he let himself in, and she'd have ample time to go to the corner. As long as he didn't hear her move, and she was in position when he entered the room, he'd have no way of knowing how long she'd been standing there. With a smug grin on her face, she sat down in her favourite chair and picked up a novel; a far more enjoyable way of waiting for him to arrive.

Country boy (m/F story)

In the passenger seat next to me, my mobile phone made some final sad, tired noises before shutting itself off, completely out of power. I swore under my breath; I was relying on the GPS, so I wasn't entirely sure where to go now. I started berating myself for not charging my phone before leaving, and for not buying a proper map. A young, defenceless woman, lost in the wilds, with no way to contact anyone – at least, 32 qualified as 'young' in my eyes, and these backwater roads could very well be considered the wilderness.

Of course, if I'd paid attention to where I was driving instead of scolding myself, I might have spotted the glass bottle in the road before it was too late.

I managed to get the car under control, but I quickly realized that the left front tire had suffered some damage. Stopping the car on the side of the road, I got out and confirmed my suspicions. There was a jack and a new tire in the back of the car, but I had no idea what I should actually do with them.

Ordinarily, I would have looked up some how-to guide on my phone, but the battery was flat. I had my laptop, but there was no wi-fi here. I thought about using my phone as a hotspot, which would allow my laptop to connect to the internet, and actually congratulated myself on my cleverness before realizing the obvious flaw in the plan.

I bent over, staring at the ruined remains of the tire, while going through the facts. I was out in the wilderness with a flat tire which I had only the vaguest idea how to replace. I had no food or water with me, and no way to contact anyone that could help me. Even if I somehow managed to get the car rolling again, I had no idea where to go.

I don't know how long I remained there, hoping that staring at the tire would magically fix it, but in the end, I decided I had no option but to just give it my best shot, hope that I could stumble my way through replacing the tire, and then pray I could find civilization – or at least someone who could direct me to it. The worst part of it was that it was all my fault. "Christine," I said loudly to myself, "this time you really DO deserve a good spanking."

"Now, that I'd like to see," a cheerful voice exclaimed behind me.

Wide-eyed, I spun around, spotting a lanky young man in dirty jeans and an old, worn shirt, grinning at me. I guessed him to be eighteen or nineteen. With a blush, I realized what a sight I had presented to him, bent over at the waist, thrusting my jean-clad backside in his direction. From the way he smiled, it seemed he'd enjoyed the sight, despite the fact that I was more than a decade older than him.

"I'm Ken," he said, shaking my hand. "I was walking to town when I spotted you and your car. You looked like you needed a hand."

Too many drinks (M/F story)

"Just remember to watch how much you drink today," Rob said as he finished dressing. The brawny, dark-haired 40-year-old man glanced in the mirror; the suit was expensive and looked it, and with his wife's black evening dress, the pair would probably make a good entrance. "Remember last time?"

"I was just a having a good time," Alex said, pouting. The tall woman was absentmindedly wrapping her finger around a strand of her long, red hair. "I was dancing, everyone was laughing ..."

"Yes, because you were making a fool of yourself," Rob told her, giving her a quick kiss. "We're not in our twenties anymore, and this isn't that sort of party. It's the 'well-dressed, decently catered, make polite conversation while taking small sips' kind. The grown-up kind of party."

"The boring kind," Alex grumbled.

"Exactly," he said, gazing into her eyes. "So let's not have a repeat of last time, shall we? Will you drink in moderation today?"

Alex rolled her eyes. "OK," she sighed, holding up her hand as if swearing an oath. "I promise to drink responsibly today."

He grinned, giving her a longer kiss. "Good girl. Are you ready to leave now?"


The first hour of the party went well. They walked around the venue, chatting with old friends, meeting new people, and enjoying the refreshments. The hostess, Vanessa, was one of Rob's colleagues, and she complimented Alex on her wonderful dress. Alex was hanging off Rob's arm, being introduced to some of his friends and acquaintances that she hadn't met before, while introducing him to some of hers. They'd been offered a glass of champagne at the door, and she was sipping it slowly, intending to keep her promise. Since he was driving, Rob was sticking to non-alcohol drinks.

After a while, she wandered off to chat with some old school friends, and they fetched some glasses of wine. As they sat around, giggling about the old days, she kept fetching drinks, not noticing in her amusement that she was finishing them rather more rapidly than her friends.

Suddenly, as she was relating some school anecdote to her friend Sophie, she felt a tap on her shoulder, and turned to find her husband standing behind her. He was smiling, but there was something slightly strained about it. "You are remembering to watch your intake, honey? You're being a bit loud. We wouldn't want you to get TOO drunk, would we?"

A slight blush tinged her cheeks. She didn't like being chided in front of her friends like this – it was so humiliating, having her husband lecture her in public. "Don't worry, Rob. I'm being careful."

"Good," he said, still smiling, but his eyes told her he didn't quite believe her.

In her friends' house (M/F story)

Waking up, I gasped as I sat up in the bed. My tank top and pyjamas shorts were drenched in sweat, and my heart was trying to beat its way through my chest, but the details of my nightmare were already getting foggy, leaving me with nothing but a strong sense of unease.

My frightened mind was now further unsettled by the unfamiliar surroundings, and in my tired state, it took a few moments before I remembered that I had gone out of town to visit my friends Jessica and Mark. This wasn't my own bedroom, with its posters and knick-knacks; it was their clean, almost-empty guest bedroom.

I wondered if I had screamed during my nightmare, and whether I'd woken them up. I tiptoed into the hall, placing my ear against the door of their bedroom, where I could hear them both snoring peacefully. I glanced at the watch – it was half past seven in the morning, so they'd probably sleep for another hour or two.

Too stressed to go back to sleep, I decided to head downstairs to the living room and watch TV until they woke up. I zapped from channel to channel, trying to find something worth watching, but in vain. I considered fetching my laptop and surfing the web for a while, but my head was still too tired.

I was unsettled from the nightmare, I was tired, I was stressed, and I suddenly felt a little bit homesick. What I needed most was some sort of relief. I pondered going back up to the bedroom and masturbating, but I was sitting on a very comfortable couch. Ah, life's hard dilemmas.

After a few seconds, a naughty thought entered my head. Why should I go upstairs? Couldn't I just rub my nub right here, in my friends' living room?

The more I thought about it, the more appealing it seemed. There was something so transgressive, so DIRTY about masturbating in a living room that wasn't my own. My friends were sleeping, but they could wake up and come downstairs any minute, couldn't they? They could catch me on their couch, with my fingers inside myself, being a naughty girl. How humiliating that thought was! Now, of course, they were fast asleep, and wouldn't wake up for at least an hour. Or would they? They didn't usually wake up early, but it wasn't out of the question. It felt so risky and embarrassing.

Making my mind up, I reached for the roll of paper towels that Jessica kept near their couch in case she spilled wine – I had no intention of leaving any strange stains on their furniture. Placing a thick layer of paper below myself to catch any escaping moistness, I lowered my shorts, pulled my panties to the side, and began to rub myself.

Even in my sleep-addled state, my experienced fingers knew just what to do, and in a few minutes, I reached the edge. I grinned to myself as I again thought about how dirty I was being – pleasuring myself in someone else's house, while they were sleeping nearby.

It was only then, almost at the point of orgasm, that my drowsy mind remembered that I hadn't checked whether the curtains were drawn.