Learning from Sheila (F/F story)

The first time I met Sheila Page, my little sister Lucy's new friend, she had my sister draped over her lap as she spanked her bare bottom.

I had come to Lucy's flat to deliver a jacket that my sister wanted to borrow for an upcoming party – one of the last big parties before they left high school. I knocked on the door and entered without waiting for a reply, as was our usual style. Hearing a curious smacking sound, I entered the living room, where Sheila was sitting on the sofa. Lucy was lying down, with her skirt raised and her panties lowered. Her naked bottom was resting on Sheila's lap, and Sheila was spanking her soundly with a surprisingly calm expression on her face. I gaped – what the hell was going on?

Sheila must have heard me enter, for she looked up and gave me a big smile. "Oh. You must be Kate, right? Lucy's older sister? How lovely to finally meet you. Please sit down – we are almost finished."

I was still staring at her in shock. I was stuck between leaving immediately to give Lucy some privacy in this humiliating situation, wrestling Sheila to the ground to save my poor baby sister, or just waiting for the whole thing to be over. I looked at Lucy, who had also turned to face me. Her face was wet with tears, and there was an embarrassed look on her face at having her punishment witnessed, but nothing about her expression suggested that she wanted me to rush to her aid. In the end, I decided to do as Sheila suggested, and I sat down in the nearest comfy chair.

For two or three minutes, I watched Sheila's hand rise and fall as she struck my sister's red bottom. Lucy squirmed and yelped, but she didn't protest or try to struggle free. It was surreal – why was this happening? Why had an eighteen-year-old girl taken another across her knee and bared her bottom for a spanking?

With a final flurry of smacks, Sheila ended the punishment. She helped Lucy stand up and hugged her, soothingly rubbing her back as the poor girl dried her tears. "Usually, you'd be spending a few minutes in the corner right now, but since your sister is here, I'll let you off just this once."

Lucy smiled gratefully, returning the hug. "Thanks, Sheila. You're always so kind."

I raised an eyebrow. If someone had spanked my bare bottom until it was red and swollen, I was fairly sure I wouldn't be describing them as 'kind'. Or maybe I would – I would presumably be doing anything I could think of to placate the violent madwoman – but Lucy sounded as if she meant it.

We all sat down and chatted, and the girls were talking about which colleges they were hoping to get into, what they were planning to do with the summer, and which films they were going to see, all while ignoring the fact that one of them was squirming in her seat, trying in vain to find a position that wasn't quite as uncomfortable as all the others.

After a while, Sheila told us she had to go if she wanted to reach the store before it closed. When we were finally alone, I turned towards my sister. "OK, want to explain what the hell that was all about?" She raised an eyebrow, wondering what I meant, so I clarified. "You were over your friend's knee getting your little tushy spanked."

Midnight snack (M/F story)

 It was well past midnight, and Leah was standing in the kitchen with a tub of ice cream in her hand, licking the spoon with a blissful expression on her face. She was wearing a pair of thin, worn sweatpants and an old top, and the state of her hair suggested that she'd just left her bed – which was in fact the case.

A voice came from the doorway. "You know, I bought that tub of ice cream because we have guests coming tomorrow." She looked over at her boyfriend, who was wearing an expression of mock sternness, as well as a pair of pyjama bottoms. Matt liked to sleep shirtless, which Leah heartily approved of. There was nothing quite like falling asleep while resting her head on his muscular chest.

"I woke up and wanted a midnight snack," Leah said, still licking the spoon. "This was at the top of the fridge."

"Now I'll have to go shopping again tomorrow before they arrive," he said, with just the slightest hint of annoyance.

"Oh, how sad," she giggled. "I'm sorry I was so naughty," she said, while managing to sound like she didn't mean a word of it.

He folded his arms in front of his chest, still trying to stare sternly at her.

"Yes, I've been such a bad girl, haven't I?. I'm lucky you're a forgiving boyfriend, or I might get a spanking for my mischief!" For emphasis, she turned her back towards him, giving her butt a saucy little wiggle.

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, is that so?" She smiled innocently as he stepped towards her. "Is that what you want? I can take a hint, you know," he said as he took the spoon and ice cream tub from her, placing them on the counter.

"Can you?" Leah said, affecting a shocked tone. Lately, her signals had become steadily more transparent, and she was beginning to wonder if she'd have to write "Spank me" on her forehead with lipstick before he caught on. Or maybe she should have written it on her bottom instead.

Esmeralda (M/F story)

Esmeralda's parents were going out of town for a few weeks. Due to the wild parties the teenager had thrown the last times she'd been left unsupervised, they didn't want her to be home alone, so she'd been sent to stay with her older sister and her husband. Esmeralda's assurances that she was an adult now, and far more mature, fell on deaf ears, not helped by the whiny voice and petulant pout that accompanied her tirade.

She'd been staying with Marion and Gabriel for a week now, and things were not going great. Marion and Esmeralda had never been friends, and the sisters had preferred to stay out of each other's way growing up, which was easy due to the ten-year age difference. But now, Marion was responsible for her little sister's conduct, and she took that duty seriously. The nagging could at times be unbearable. Gabriel was more easy-going and treated her kindly, but she'd been warned that he could be stern when pushed – which she found hard to believe. Gabriel was a pussycat, and she intended to wrap him around her finger.

One Saturday, one of Esmeralda's friends was throwing a big party, and she asked nicely if she could borrow their car – she had her license, she just couldn't afford a vehicle yet. Marion refused, saying that they didn't want her to be driving so late at night in an unfamiliar car, especially when she was such a fresh driver. Esmeralda immediately went to her brother-in-law, who proved to be surprisingly unyielding, even when she batted her eyelashes and tried to look pitiful.

But that was OK. They were both heavy sleepers, and she knew where they kept the keys.

It was early in the morning by the time Esmeralda returned. She was slightly tipsy, ready for bed, and grinning like a madwoman. Wow, what a car! She decided she'd have to borrow that some other time – speeding down a mountain road with her friends sounded like an excellent way to spend the afternoon.

It was only when she opened the door that Esmeralda realized that her hosts were not as heavy sleepers as she had believed. Gabriel was standing in the living room, an irate look on his face, and Marion was glaring at her from the sofa. Esmeralda mentally prepared for the usual lecture as she entered.

"You're finally back," Gabriel said, his voice stern. "Do you have any idea what time it is?" So, it would be her soft brother-in-law in charge of the scolding. She was mildly surprised.

"I'm sorry," she said, batting her eyelashes again. Hopefully, it would work better this time. "I lost track of time."

"Have you been drinking!?" he said, stepping closer to smell her breath.

"Well, duh. It was a party," she responded before she could stop herself.

He shook her head, his anger clearly rising. "You sneak out of bed, you steal our car –"

"Borrow."

"STEAL," he repeated. "You asked to borrow it, we said no, and you took it anyway. That's stealing. You steal our car, drive home drunk, and then have an attitude about it?" He picked up a straight-backed wooden chair leaning against the wall, placing it in the middle of the floor before sitting down. She wondered what he was doing. If he was so tired from standing there lecturing her – which was understandable, as she was quite tired too – then why didn't he sit down next to his wife on the sofa? He patted his knee. "Come here."

"I'm too old to sit on your lap," she said as she rolled her eyes. Why was he being so silly tonight? Couldn't he see that she wanted to go to bed?

"Oh, you won't be doing much sitting," Gabriel said ominously. Marion gave her an evil grin, suggesting that she knew something that her sister did not. "Now, come here," he repeated.

Sighing, Esmeralda approached him. When she came close, he suddenly grabbed her arm, and with a jerk, she was pulled forward, tumbling over his lap. Facing the floor with her bottom in the air, she suddenly felt him raise the hem of her skirt. "Hey! What are you doing?" she protested. Why the hell was her brother-in-law undressing her?

A sudden slap on the seat of her panties made her gasp. It was only when the second, third, and fourth smacks followed that her drunk mind began to grasp what was happening. "Ow! You're spanking me!"

"Oh, you figured that out already?" Gabriel said drily as his hand continued to smack her backside.

Curious college girl 2 (M/F story)

It had been a month since Angus had ended up taking his college housemate Tommie over his knee and given her a sound spanking, and things had really improved. Tommie had started cleaning up after herself, being more mindful of him and his feelings, and stopped playing loud music at night, and all that was required on Angus' part was that he occasionally pulled down her trousers and panties, placed her over his knee, and blistered her bottom. He was very happy with their arrangement – but not nearly as happy as she was. There was an infectious grin on her face at practically all times, as she had finally found what she had yearned for all these years.

If they were outside, he would swat her rear end whenever they were alone and unobserved. She'd blush and giggle, grinning mischievously until they could get back to the flat. If she did something he disapproved of, a stern warning whispered in her ear was enough to make her back down and apologize for whatever it was she had done – which had earned him a grateful, relieved smile from a few shop assistants she'd been behaving uncivilly towards.

He wasn't entirely sure why it helped to threaten her with a good spanking when she enjoyed them so much, but it worked, so he had decided not to question it.

One day, he was sitting on the sofa watching an old movie, when Tomme approached him. She was fidgeting, staring at the floor to avoid having to look him in the eyes. He raised an eyebrow – she was usually far more eager when asking for a spanking, so this was probably about something else. She hadn't been this nervous even before her first spanking. "M-may I talk to you, daddy?" She always called him 'daddy' in the flat – he hadn't heard his name from her lips in weeks unless they were in class or the store or something.

"Of course, Tommie. Sit down and tell me all about it," he said, turning off the TV. He'd expected her to find a spot next to him on the couch, so it came as a surprise when she chose to sit in his lap instead. He placed a comforting arm on her shoulder, giving her a reassuring smile as he waited for her to start.

She bit her lip, unsure of how to begin. "I've been thinking about… something naughty lately."

He tutted, giving her a stern look. "What have you done, Tommie?"

"Nothing," she insisted, blushing. "I've just been thinking about it."

"I see," he said. "And I guess you think that a good, hard spanking on your bare bottom will make you not want to do it?"

She blushed even more, squirming. "Quite the opposite, daddy. Being spanked makes me really, really want to do it." He gave her a puzzled frown, wondering what in the world she could be talking about. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, finally blurting out "Daddy, why haven't we slept together?"

Eyes squeezed shut, she whimpered, worried about how he'd react. Finally, her curiosity overcame her, and she opened one eye a tiny bit to peek at him. Angus was staring at her, a shocked expression on his face. This was clearly not what he had been expecting.

"… That's something you'd like?" he eventually stated flatly. This would certainly be one memorable conversation.

Curious college girl (M/F story)

Angus sighed as he looked at the mess his housemate Tommie had made of the kitchen. The lanky blond man shook his head in disbelief. "How exactly did you accomplish this?"

The short, curvy redhead shrugged. "I was cooking."

"You were frying an egg!"

"Eggs are tricky," she said defensively, pouting.

Usually, the college only housed opposite-sex students in the same flat if they knew each other, but a mistake had been made – Angus suspected Tommie's name had confused someone. When the error was discovered, it had been too late in the process to fix it, but the pair had shrugged and given it a try. They had separate bedrooms, so what was the issue? Angus had secretly hoped that a female housemate would be cleaner than the boys he'd lived with before, but over the weeks they'd lived together, Tommie had certainly proven him wrong. She was easily the messiest person he'd ever met. The fact that she played loud music when he was trying to sleep was just the icing on the cake.

Still shaking his head at the state of the kitchen, Angus commented "You know, I think I'd get my butt spanked if I'd made a mess like this at home."

Tommie blushed a fiery red, squirming at his words. "Oh, come on, don't be silly. Nobody gets spanked these days, do they?"

"I was spanked growing up," he told her, "And you'd better believe it taught me not to walk away from messes like this."

"Were you!?" Tommie stared at him as if he was a wondrous visitor from another planet, her eyes wide and shining. "When? Where? How? By who?"

Surprised at her interest and embarrassed by the questions about his old punishments, Angus ignored her and started to clean, hoping she'd take some responsibility for her own mess. She eventually chipped in, but also continued to badger him for information. As the interrogation showed no signs of stopping, he finally decided to tell her what she wanted to know, eager to get back to the usual silence of the flat.

"I was spanked by my mother. Sometimes on the spot, bent under the arm, but usually, I was sent to my bedroom to change into my pyjamas, which she always pulled down before taking me over her knee. I was then sent straight to bed afterward. She always used her hand, but if she thought I'd been particularly naughty, I got the hairbrush as well."

To his dismay, sharing these personal, painful memories did nothing to quell her curiosity, as she constantly found new questions. "Did it hurt? Did you cry? How long did the marks last? Could you sit comfortably? When was the first time you were spanked? When was the last time? How often did it happen? Was it only your mother – were you ever spanked by someone else? Did you ever have to do corner time afterward?"

"Why are you so interested?" he demanded after a while. "Weren't you ever spanked?"

"No, of course not," she told him. "I grew up in the twenty-first century!"

The questions continued the next day, and the day after that. Angus mostly ignored her, but when the questions got too tiresome, he eventually relented and answered her – which was a terrible idea, since it rewarded her for being annoying, but he didn't know what else to do.

Friday was the fourth day after the kitchen mess. The two were sitting in front of the TV, watching a panel show, and Angus was enjoying the unaccustomed silence. No stupid questions, no needling, just the finest British comedy and –

"Were you ever spanked in front of anyone else? Who was it, and why?" Tommie suddenly said.

Angus sighed. She just wouldn't shut up, and he'd finally had enough. "Tommie, if you're so curious about spankings, I think I know what you need. Go change into your pyjamas, and I'll put you across my knee and give you a good spanking. Maybe that will answer all your questions."

Dressing up for her tutor (M/F story)

Ruby looked in the bathroom mirror, admiring the cute panties she'd picked out: white cotton ones, covered with little hearts in different colours. No eighteen-year-old girl WANTED to go over her maths tutor's knee and have her poor bottom smacked, of course, but if she had to, she wanted to look her best. And with how lazy she'd been lately, and from the stories she had heard about Nathan's strictness when pushed, she had a feeling that there was a sound spanking in her very near future.

She thought about how humiliating it would be to be bent over his lap, facing the carpet with her rear end upturned and ready to meet his descending hand. He would certainly raise her skirt and spank her on her adorable panties, wouldn't he? She didn't think he'd be satisfied with a few smacks over the skirt. No, he would definitely raise her skirt before he spanked her. Oh, what if he pulled her panties down? The thought made her shiver. Having him just SEE her bare bottom was such a scary thought – but imagining him spanking it was even more frightening.

She turned her back to the mirror, glancing over her shoulder as she bent over. Her panties presented such a lovely sight. She hoped he would like them.

The doorbell rang, and Ruby realized that she'd spent half an hour in the bathroom thinking about what she was certain was going to happen to her today. She threw on the blouse and skirt she'd prepared, and she ran to open the door. Taking a brief second calm down and make it look like she was prepared for his arrival, she opened the door.

"Hello, Ruby," Nathan said. The tall, handsome tutor in his mid-twenties gave her a charming smile that made her slightly weak-kneed. "Ready for another session?"

"Nice to see you again," Ruby said as she stepped aside to let him in. They entered the living room, where Ruby's books and pencils were laid out on the table. At least she'd remembered that. She hoped it would count as mitigating circumstances when her severe punishment was decided.

As they sat down, Nathan looked over the assignments he'd given her after the last session. She bit her lip as she watched him frown – he was clearly not entirely pleased. Taking a red pen from his pocket, he highlighted the parts she'd got wrong, and started showing her how it should really be done. Afterwards, he scolded her for the bits she hadn't even tried to do – "If you at least try, there's a good chance you'll get it right, and even if you don't, you can learn something. A blank page teaches you nothing."

She did her best to look contrite, but the fluttering of her heart was making it hard to concentrate. This was it. It was really happening. In a few moments, she would find herself over his lap, pleading for mercy and promising to do better in the future as he spanked her soundly. She couldn't believe it.

He ended his lecture, giving her a stern glare that made the butterflies in her tummy absolutely frenzied, before returning his gaze to the books. "Anyway, if you turn to page 211, we can get started on the next set of –"

"That's it?" she said, shocked. "You're not going to…" He looked at her with curiosity, wondering where was going. She blushed. "Well, it's just… I thought – I'd heard rumours that…" She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "I'd heard that you'd… punish girls that didn't do their work."

The half-orc and the halfling (M/F story)

Grim glanced around the common room at the inn, subtly scanning for threats. Reassured that this was a respectable establishment and that there were no obvious dangers here, the half-orc gave a satisfied nod, and stepped aside to let his employer enter.

The tiny woman smiled up at him as she entered, shaking her head at his precautions. Even the other halflings would describe Lily Springkettle as short and cute, but her charismatic personality and head for money had made her a very successful merchant. Grim just wished she had as much common sense as she had business sense.

Lily talked to the innkeeper and got a good deal on a suite of rooms at the back of the inn – two bedrooms and a small living room, quite stylish. Lily had the money to live comfortably even on her travels, and Grim was quite pleased that she was willing to spend it. There were certain upsides to being her bodyguard.

Once they'd settled in, Grim looked at his employer. "There are some supplies we need before we move on, and I'd like us to buy them today – that way, we don't have to wait for the shops to open tomorrow before we leave."

Lily leaned back in the rather comfortable chair. The pout on her face made her look even more like a child than she usually did, but he knew she wouldn't appreciate him pointing it out. "Do I have to come? You know what we need. Can't you just buy it? I'll give you the money, of course."

He thought about it. A nice room in a decent inn would not be the worst place to leave a naïve merchant for an hour or two. As long as she stayed here, she would be entirely safe.

As long as she stayed here.

Grim stepped over to her, folding his arms in front of his chest and staring down at her. "Promise me that you'll stay in our rooms and not go wandering the streets on your own."

She rolled her eyes. "That was ONE time."

"You lost your purse," he reminded her. "And that wasn't the worst thing that could have happened." He bent down, placing a gentle hand under her jaw to force her to look him in the eyes. "Promise."

She sighed, rolling her eyes again. "Fine. I'll stay here and do some reading. That's what I was planning to do, anyway." She glared at him. "Who do you think is in charge here, anyway?"

"Good to hear," he said, ignoring her last question. "See you later."

As he walked out into the streets, he knew he shouldn't talk to his employer that way, but there was something about her appearance and her innocent obliviousness to danger that awoke his protective instinct that made him want to shield her from the dangers of the world. She knew things about trade that would never grasp, about supply and demand and artificial scarcity and things like that, but she would gladly follow someone into a dark alley for a free piece of candy. There was something paternal here; he wanted to keep the fragile little thing safe at all costs. He frowned – at least, he THOUGHT it was paternal.

The cardboard box (M/F story)

Carolyn was putting away some of her husband's freshly-cleaned shirts when she spotted a cardboard box at the back of his wardrobe. She frowned – she'd never noticed it before, but it looked old and worn, so he probably didn't acquire it recently. Maybe he'd kept it somewhere else, and had just moved it? But what in the world could he want to keep in a cardboard box in his wardrobe? Unable to quell her curiosity, she picked it up, carried it to the bed, opened it, and peeked inside.

Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. The box contained wooden paddles, leather straps, and spanking magazines.

Carylon blushed a fiery red as she tried to process this new side of her gentle giant. With burning curiosity, she picked up one of the magazines, which featured young women in schoolgirl uniforms being spanked over the laps of strict men. Was this what Nathan was secretly into? He'd never hinted at anything like this before.

She took a deep breath, trying to merge this new information with the wonderful husband she thought she knew. It was definitely proof that after years of marriage, you could still be surprised. She looked at the box again. It was a few years old, at least. Had he kept it secret since before they were married? Was this something he'd fantasized about, but never dared to bring up? She hoped he knew her well enough to know that regardless of whether or not she was willing to participate in these perverted games, she certainly wouldn't think less of him for admitting it.

A dreadful thought struck her. Was she so certain that he'd kept these feelings bottled up in secret? Maybe he'd found someone else to fulfil them. Maybe he was seeing other women. He HAD worked a lot of overtime lately… She shook her head in disgust, forcefully rejecting the suggestion. No, she wouldn't think such thoughts. He was her husband, and she would trust him until she had a very good reason not to, and this cardboard box wasn't anywhere near enough.

Carolyn sat down with a cup of tea to reflect on what she'd discovered, and the more she thought about it, the more she felt sorry for the man she loved, having this secret side that he didn't dare speak of, even to her. Her initial revulsion had faded completely, and at the back of her mind, she began to wonder if she still had the uniform from her school days…

One year

 Hello. Sorry for the infrequency of stories the last few weeks, but I've been busy and haven't had as much time to write and edit as I would have liked. I uploaded a story yesterday, which has received some positive responses.

I don't usually write much about myself here - it's a blog for my stories, not for my life. However, I decided I should write something today, because it's been one year since the first time I actually gave someone a spanking. I've been a part of the spanko community for decades, but until then, it was only in theory - as a reader, writer, and consumer.

I'd wondered how it would be once I finally spanked someone. Would I be any good at it? Would I enjoy it as much as I thought? Would THEY enjoy it? (The answers are yes, yes, and yes). Afterwards, I've also wondered how my stories have been affected - are my stories before June 2023 less realistic than the ones after? Is there anything of value added after the momentous event? I don't know, and would be curious what my readers think.

Sadly, there isn't much of a spanko community in Norway. There is an active and thriving BDSM community, but I've never felt truly at home in it - most of it is too far from my own narrow interests to make me comfortable. Lately, I've seen some positive signs in the growth of the spanko community, though.

I'd originally planned to more than this, but I have a cold and I am not feeling up to it. I considered postponing it, but this is the anniversary, so I'm writing it now.

Hope you all have a wonderful day!

IT support (m/F story)

"Hi, Ethan. It's Cassie. My computer's acting up again. Could you have a look?"

The eighteen-year-old nodded, before realizing that she couldn't see him over the phone. "Sure. I'll just save my game, and I'll be right over."

Cassie lived next door to Ethan's parents. The 35-year-old woman was famously clueless with technology, and growing up, Ethan had often been asked to come over and help her. Even now, when he'd moved into his own apartment, she still called him when she needed help. He didn't mind, and she also paid quite well. Ethan liked being helpful, and he would probably have aided her for free, but he wasn't going to tell her that.

About half an hour later, Ethan rang the doorbell, and Cassie let him in a thankful smile. It was a warm summer day, so she was wearing a nice sundress, while the teenager was clad in shorts and a worn t-shirt. She fetched him a glass of soda while he sat down at the desk to examine her computer.

"Yeah, it's a virus," he told her as she returned. "Quite nasty. I can't remove it with the regular anti-virus, but I'm booting it in safe mode, which should help. If it doesn't, I might have to do a factory reset, or I could try restoring from an old backup – one from before the virus, of course."

She nodded eagerly, doing her best to try to seem like she knew what he was going on about, and hoping he could have it solved soon.

Ethan tapped away at the keyboard, doing something that seemed like magic to tech-illiterate Cassie, who was watching over his shoulder. Finally, he leaned back in his chair with a grin on his face. "I think that solved it." He booted the computer again, his face radiating satisfaction. "Looks like it."

"Thank you," she said with a relieved sigh. "You've really earned your pay today."

He frowned. "Do you know how the virus got in? I know you have anti-virus – I installed it last time we had an issue like this."

"Ah." She seemed ill at ease. "I think I disabled it. I was trying to download some files…"

He raised an eyebrow. "Really? What files were you downloading that your antivirus protested against?"

And to her horror, he opened the browser. Before she could summon the presence of mind to stop him, her history covered the screen. Most of it involved spanking. "Oh," he said quietly.

Cassie buried her face in her hands, wanting to sink through the floor. Having the boy next door see what sort of porn she was into was fairly high on the list of the worst things that had ever happened to her. Not that she expected to corrupt him, of course – he was eighteen, and had probably seen worse things already.

After a few seconds, she peeked through her fingers at him, hoping that the boy had been gentleman enough to close the browser and find something else to focus on. He hadn't. Instead, he'd opened a few of the websites he found, so her computer now showed pictures of bare-bottomed women being soundly spanked by stern men. Cassie was blushing scarlet – almost as red as the backside of the woman Ethan was currently looking at.

For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then, Ethan glanced over at her, and a wry grin appeared on his face. "You know, it's very naughty of you to visit websites like this. And disabling the anti-virus? Not a good idea." He tutted.

Cassie stared at him, breathless. Was he proposing what she thought he was proposing? And if he was, how should she respond?

The house-cleaner (M/F story)

I was sitting at my desk, trying to begin work on my next novel, when the doorbell rang. I opened to find a grinning, peppy redhead in her early twenties. I smiled back at her. "Hello, Lizzie. Is it noon already?"

"Hello, Richard! Yes, I'm afraid so, so you'll have to suffer my presence for the next hour or two." She shrugged. "At least you'll have a cleaner house at the end of it."

When I'd first hired Lizzie as a weekly cleaner, she'd been very meek and quiet, and had insisted on calling me 'sir'. I'd nipped that in the bud and told her to refer to me by my first name. I had no problem being called 'sir' – in fact, in some circumstances, I insisted upon it – but I did not want to hear it from someone I had hired. It made the interaction too formal and stiff, and I couldn't live like that. Over the months, the young woman had begun to relax around me, and it was wonderful to see her overcome her shyness and watch her real personality emerge.

I returned to my desk and continued to stare at the empty screen, wondering how to begin, while Lizzie retrieved her cleaning supplies and hummed quietly to herself as she started to work. Turning my head, I caught her glancing at the locked cupboard under stairs.

When I'd hired her, she'd said the cupboard was perfect for her supplies, and asked if she could use it. I'd told her that she was welcome to use any other cupboard she wanted, but that one was mine, and I did not want her opening it. She'd asked what was in it, and I told her it was private. She'd taken the hint, and while she never asked me again, I had a vague sense that she was still curious.

Half an hour after her arrival, I still hadn't written a single word, and when Lizzie fetched the vacuum cleaner, I decided to take a break. Some writers prefer silence, while others put on music or have a movie in the background, but I've yet to meet one that does their best work while listening to a running vacuum cleaner. "I'm heading to the store," I told her. "I forgot to buy milk yesterday." I also hoped the walk would get the creative juices flowing. "Back in half an hour."

She nodded, and as I left, I heard her turn the vacuum cleaner on.

I'd walked about five minutes when I suddenly realized I'd forgotten my wallet. Quickly patting my jacket to make sure I hadn't left it in another pocket, I turned around and headed back. When I opened the door, I was about to call out to Lizzie, but wondered why I couldn't hear the vacuum cleaner. She liked to do all the vacuuming in one go, and that would take her far more than the ten minutes I'd been gone.

I found her outside the now-open cupboard – she must have found the key in my desk drawer. She was holding my favourite leather paddle, staring in wonder at some of the magazines I kept there. The pictures of bare-bottomed women bent over stern men's laps, or standing in the corner with their red behinds on display, were certainly eye-catching.

I cleared my throat, and Lizzie jumped a foot in the air. When she turned to look at me, she was white as a sheet, and she was quivering slightly. It was clear that the sight of my spanking implements had made quite an impression on her.

I looked at the paddle in her hand. Following my gaze, she suddenly realized she was still holding it, and dropped it in shock. The thud of the paddle striking the wooden floor rang out in the quiet room. She looked down at the dropped paddle as if it was a snake about to bite her. With a trembling hand, she lifted the paddle and handed it to me. I checked it was undamaged, and hung it back on its hook, and heard Lizzie give a sigh of relief. Or possibly something else…