The second installment!
As previously, the main article is by Elckerlyc over on deviantArt.
And like last time, here is the illustration on its own:
The Spank-City Tribune – 2
Category: Stories
Kept in line
“Please…” she whined to no effect, “Please, no more…”
Her crimson buttocks felt like they were pulsating, sending waves of rich, hot pain up her spine with each of her shallow breaths. She swallowed and pleaded again, hearing no response. She didn’t dare look back, but she knew that the paddle was high in the air, just about to come dow—
“Oww!” she yelped as the hard wood connected with her bruised flesh once more. Tears streamed down her face, dripping over the desk. Her boss’ desk. He was mad. he was more than mad; he was furious. She had messed up. Again.
“OWW!” she cried, louder, another hard swat landing on her tender, plump bottom. For a few seconds, the pain became her whole world; it was all that she could think of. Then, it receded, leaving her ass burning, her legs trembling… and her panties wet.
She didn’t argue, because she knew that it was futile. When he had called her in his office, there had been no ambiguity as to her fate. She had walked in expecting to be punished, and she knew that she deserved it. She had closed the door behind her, and started to undress without a word. She had been through it a few times already.
It had started with a playful joke one day, about how she had messed up with a client. Her boss had been understanding, but she had carried on telling him how bad she felt, how guilty. He had brushed it off at first, until she had said these fateful words, as a jest: “Sometimes I wish I could get spanked again!”
He had raised an eyebrow, and she had let a little embarrassed laugh out.
“What do you mean, Caroline?” he’d asked, softly. She had instantly turned into a stuttering mess, cheeks as red as a ripe tomato.
“I… Hum… My mother, she… She used to spank me, you know? And, well, it wasn’t pleasant, but at least I didn’t feel the guilt anymore afterwards.”
“I see…” he had simply answered. He had kept his eyes on her, and she had carried on. She wasn’t sure why she had kept talking then, but the words had just kept spilling from her mouth.
“It’s… It’s like, cathartic, the punishment, the… pain… It takes the guilt away. Well, it did then…”
He had nodded. She had stared at the floor. She couldn’t look at him.
“And so… Caroline…”
“Yes sir?”
“You think a spanking would help you do a better job with the next client?”
Her eyes had widened. That little off-hand joke hadn’t seemed like a joke anymore. It had seemed very, very real. That day, she had received her first proper spanking as an adult, right there over her boss’ lap. As she had been quietly weeping in the corner afterward, he had defined a few rules. First, this was purely disciplinary, he was faithful to his wife, thank you very much. As such, she would get to keep her panties. She thought it a little odd, and a little hypocritical, but was in no position to argue ethics.
Second, any further punishment would increase in severity, going from hand-spankings to hairbrushes, paddles, the cane… She had shivered. And for a time, it had kept her on the straight and narrow. Then mistakes had happened. She had been late finishing a report. She had overslept and missed an early appointment. Paperwork got filed in the wrong place…
True to his word, he had summoned her in his office each time, and each time, the punishment had been more severe. And as much as she dreaded it, she knew she needed it, the discipline, the atonement. She needed it and desired it. Not enough to make her make mistakes on purpose, no! But she loved how it pushed her to do better. And indeed, after each session, she knew that her work got better. For a time, she was a model employee, employee of the month even! And then the slip started again. A little longer each time, knowing that the punishment would get harsher, but it always happened.
And so, as the paddle slammed into her ass once more, leaving a deep red mark, she cried her shame out and let the guilt leave her. The hard wood fell again, making her yell. No walls were thick enough to keep people from hearing, she was sure of it. Her panties were drenched —so much for keeping it modest— and she was heaving, sobbing, sniffling between each hard slap.
She knew she would be forgiven but— OWW!
She knew she deserved it and— OOWW!!
She knew she would be better, she would— OWW!!
She clenched her buttocks, knowing full well it would do nothing. She could feel the bruises coming, she imagined the marks. She bit her lip, waiting for the next one.
Nothing came.
“Get up, Caroline,” he boss said.
In her heels and underwear, she made her way to the corner, knowing what was expected of her. She would stay put while he fixed her mistake, her fingers interlocked above her head. No more mistakes, she silently vowed, no more screw ups. And for a time, she knew she wouldn’t. She closed her eyes and let the pain radiating from her crimson ass fill her mind.
The Spank-City Tribune – 1
I tend not to post text-heavy images here, but half the fun in this one is the formatting of it ^^
The main article is by Elckerlyc over on deviantArt. I had fun putting the thingy together! look forward to a few more of these
As an added bonus, here is the illustration on its own:
Adven 21 – A Perfect Evening
When he came home, I thought we would have the most perfect evening. We had said we were going to put the tree up that night, something I’d been looking forward to for weeks in this bleakest of years. I had put mulled wine to warm up on the stove, Christmas music was playing…
But the minute he passed the door, everything seemed to go wrong. Well, I say passed the door… I had left my keys in it, locked, and he had to bang on the door for five minutes before I heard him, busy as I was bellowing Christmas songs from the kitchen. Mortified, blushing and looking down, I let him take his coat and shoes off before starting to apologise as best I could. He didn’t let me finish, dismissing me with a wave, and my heart sank.
Sheepishly, I followed him to the living-room where I’d laid out the tree and the many boxes of decorations that we have accumulated over the years. I was ready to put a silly Christmas film on and forget the door incident. But he sighed.
‘Are we doing this tonight?’ he asked, clearly not up for it.
I looked down. ‘Well, we’d said we…’
‘I know, I know, fine…’ he said. My eyes were down, but I could feel his eyes rolling.
‘Did you have a bad day?’ I asked, gently.
‘No, I’m fine, just tired’ was all he said.
Suddenly, I remembered the wine on the stove. ‘Shit!’ I said and ran over there. As I’d feared, it had started to boil. Not a tragedy, in the grand scheme of things, but still… One more thing that wasn’t going right.
‘Can you grab me a beer while you’re in there?’ he called from the living-room. With a sigh, I served a single mugful of mulled wine and got him a beer.
When I came back to the living-room, the tree was up, bare as it was. He was rummaging around in one of the boxes, looking for something. I set the drinks on the table. Well, I tried to. I tripped on a bunch of lights and everything went crashing to the floor, lights, drinks and all. He jumped and took my hand, genuinely worried.
‘Are you okay?’
I sighed.
‘It’s not the evening I wanted…’
‘It’s all right,’ he said, ‘just pick a movie, I’ll get a mop, yeah? Then we can decorate, wrap presents, and it’ll all be okay.’
I wiped tears from my eyes and nodded. He went to get a mop, and I started browsing. Maybe things would be fine after all.
‘Honey?’ he called from the kitchen, ‘What’s in the oven?’
The oven? I thought. The oven. Fuck! The oatmeal cookies I had made were probably completely burnt… I rushed to the oven and, sure enough, smoke billowed out when I opened the door. I bit my lip, and felt tears running down my cheeks.
‘Honey?’ he asked. ‘Are you sure everything’s all right?’
‘No…’ I managed in a tearful little voice, ‘It’s really not…’
‘They’re just cookies, my love, it doesn’t matter…’
‘It’s…’ I started, hesitating, then everything came out at once, ‘It’s everything, it’s covid, it’s not seeing family this year, then the door, and you’re mad about the tree and I burnt the cookies and spilled the wine and…
He shushed me gently and took me in his big, bear arms. I cried my eyes out in his chest. His hand came up to stroke my hair and slowly, I calmed down.
‘Tell me what you need…’ he said.
‘I… I feel so bad, about everything…’
‘Honey… It’s okay…’
‘No… Will you… Will you spank me? And then we can start over…’
‘A nice, cathartic spanking?’
‘Yes… I want to be over your knees… I want to let go… Please?’
Gently, carefully, he took my hand and led me to a chair in the kitchen, where he sat down. I took my jeans down. He was smiling up at me. I blushed. Lovingly, he put me down over his knees, and I abandoned myself to his embrace, to his loving discipline. Despite the pain, I smiled as the guilt left me with each slap of his hand.
Once it was all over, and my tears were exhausted, we decorated the tree, drinking freshly made mugs of mulled wine; we watched a silly Christmas film just like I wanted, and nibbled on burnt cookies while laughing at each other’s awful Christmas pun. All the while, my bottom was burning, and I loved him all the more for it.
Advent 5 – Christmas Party
It was the day of the Christmas party at the office, and Helen had come dressed for it in a short, red dress and Santa hat. She liked to turn heads, and the dress clung to her curves, plentiful as they were. She had decided that the dress was too tight for a bra or panties, and she was only wearing a pair of tights underneath it, much to her delight. Office life could be dull, and she liked to spice it up.
She was having a flirty conversation with John from accounting (or was it sales?) when she heard her name being called. She turned around to see her line manager, furiously coming towards her, holding his phone to his ear and a wad of papers in his other hand. She excused herself and mouthed ‘What?’ to Ben, her boss. He lifted a finger, telling her to wait, and pressed mute on his phone.
‘In my office. Now.‘ he said, ominously.
She blushed at the tone, and followed him in. There was another man there, waiting for them. He turned around, revealing himself to be the CEO of the company. Her dress suddenly felt very short, and she tugged on it. The door closed with a clack that sent a shiver up her spine.
‘Mr. Jacobs!’ she said, ‘it’s a—
‘Take a seat, Helen,’ Ben interrupted. He pointed to one of the chairs in front of his desk. Mr Jacobs remained standing, eyeing her up and down. She blushed and did as she was bidden. Suddenly, the hat felt very silly. This didn’t look like a merry occasion. She didn’t dare move to remove it, and she felt her cheeks blushing to match the stupid hat’s colour.
‘Do you know why you’re here, Miss Clemens?’ Mr Jacobs asked. His voice was soft, gentle even, but she could tell by the steely gaze of his blue-grey eyes that he was anything but.
‘I…’ she hesitated, trying to think of what could have landed her in such a meeting. Ben, her manager, turned from the window where he was finishing his phone conversation, and put his phone on the large, glass desk that throned in the middle of the room. The view outside was gorgeous, and she noticed none of it, flinching instead as the phone thudded on the glass.
‘I… I have no idea, Mr Jacobs, S-Sir,’ she stammered.
He rolled his eyes and tutted in annoyance. He waved a hand for Ben to take over and went to the window to admire the view, his hands joined behind his back.
‘Helen,’ Ben said, ‘You’ve been here what, five years now?’
‘Six…’ she said, sheepishly.
‘Six years. That’s a long time, isn’t it? That shows commitment, that shows loyalty.’
‘Y-yes Sir…’
‘And in turn, you have been treated well here, wouldn’t you say?’
‘Of course, Sir!’
‘We are a forward-thinking, modern company, with values we’re proud of, wouldn’t you agree?’
‘Yes, Sir, I agree…’ she said, completely lost as to where he was going with that.
‘And one of these values,’ Mr Jacobs said, still looking out, ‘is a zero-tolerance policy towards sexual harassment in our offices.’
‘Sex-sexual harassment? Sir?’ Helen blushed, and tugged on her dress, biting her lip.
‘Four colleagues, Helen! It’s all in there!’ Ben said, loudly, shaking the papers. ‘How long did you think you would get away with it?’
‘But… Sir..’
‘Spanking the members of your team, Helen? Is that what you consider acceptable behaviour in this company?’
She said nothing, staring at the floor.
‘And taking pictures as well! You thought they wouldn’t dare report you! Well! HR has a pretty clear-cut case!’
‘B… b-ut…’ she stuttered, ‘they all agreed to it in… in writing when they joined my t-team and…’
‘You can’t make them sign a piece of paper and get away with something like this!’ Mr Jacobs said, his tone icy.
Chewing her lip, Helen’s gaze stayed down.
‘However,’ Ben said, ‘Given your track record, and given that you seemed to treat them well in every other respect, they have accepted to drop their complaint under one condition.’
‘One con-condition, S-sir?’ she said, looking up.
‘Unsurprisingly,’ Ben continued, ‘They want what happened to them to happen to you. They are willing to drop the claim if you submit yourself to a spanking of your own.’
Her eyes opened wide. ‘But… Sir…’ she said, her voice trembling.
‘Mr Jacobs and I will administer it. Your other option is to be fired for gross misconduct, with no severance pay and possible civil lawsuit. Your choice, Helen.’
‘I would say I’m sorry, Miss Clemens’ said Mr Jacobs, ‘but you clearly brought that on yourself.’
Helen thought of her skimpy dress, and the panties that she was not wearing. Surely there was another way. She looked at them in turn. She felt her world crumbling.
‘And… And if I accept?’
‘Then you will keep you position. With a different team, of course, and a year on probation.’
‘That… That’s it?’
‘We reward loyalty, and results, Miss Clemens,’ Mr Jacobs said with a dry smile.
He shoulders dropped and she nodded.
‘Do you accept the terms?’
‘Yes…’ she said, tears in her eyes.
Having signed a waiver without even reading it, she bent over the desk as Mr Jacobs instructed. She could feel her dress riding up and had no doubt the two men would soon be able to appreciate how little she was wearing underneath her already skimpy dress.
The first slap got her by surprise, and she let a little cry out. More soon followed, and she grabbed the other end of the desk, screwing her eyes shut not to yelp with each heavy slap. Soon, her bottom was warm, burning, and she was having a hard time trying not to kick her legs. Both men stayed silent, letting the noise of the barely muffled slaps fill the office. She knew people outside could hear them. She just knew, and her shame was instantly multiplied.
After what felt like an eternity, the slaps stopped. Her bottom was on fire, and tears had long ruined her make-up, pooling on the glass desk. She heard Ben say, ‘I think you should have a go, Sir…’ The relief she had felt at the pause vanished when she heard the sound of a belt buckle being undone. No no no no no… she thought. All of a sudden, she felt like a child again, like the bratty teenager she had been, coming home late to find the belt waiting for her. She shivered. Right when she thought things couldn’t be worse, she felt a hand grabbing the end of her dress and pulling it up to her waist.
There was a silent instant when time seemingly froze as the men realised quite what they were looking at. She felt a pang of desire and knew that she was wet as could be. Mortified, she buried her head in her hands, sobbing.
If she thought that would mollify the CEO, she thought wrong. The belt came whipping down a few seconds later, and she couldn’t help but yell loudly. A second smack of the belt fell down on her crimson bottom, and a third. By the fourth, she wasn’t trying to stifle her yelling anymore, and she was panting, trying to catch her breath between each agonising strike. She clenched and unclenched her buttocks, hoping to attenuate the pain, but the belt bit like a firebrand every time.
After twenty lashes, her tights were torn, and she felt like she had cried every tear in her body. Ten lashes later, she could barely stand on her trembling legs, and she was repeating ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry’ between sobs.
Finally, it stopped. She stayed down on the desk, her legs spread, her lips parted, dripping. She didn’t even care anymore. It was finally over. And it hurt, It hurt more than she thought it could. Her bottom hurt, her eyes, her thighs, the shame hurt. But at least it was over.
‘Now,’ Ben said, ‘as stipulated in the document you signed earlier…’ he unzipped her dress and passed it over her head, ‘You are going to stand in the corner of the open space for the duration of the office party.’
‘Merry Christmas!’ Mr Jacobs said.
Company Policy
To be honest, Lana had fantasised about that moment. She had dreamt of it; she had imagined how it would play out. So when the day came, she was beyond ready. It started with a very polite smile and one simple sentence:
‘Oh but ma’am, I am the manager.’
That stopped the harpy in her tirade. The coupons were strewn on the counter. The superior air was instantly deflated, and the older, short-haired, haughty woman started to stutter.
‘Wh-wh-what?’ she said, eyeing 22-year-old Lana up and down, ‘Don’t… Don’t lie to me, you stroppy brat!’
Still smiling, Lana slammed her ID badge on the counter, hard enough to make the woman flinch and look at her, worried. The woman hummed and hawed, looking at the ID with wide eyes. It clearly stated Manager in bold, red letters.
‘So,’ Lana begun, ‘like I said, we don’t accept expired coupons.’
The woman huffed. ‘Typical…’ she muttered, ‘You young people have everything handed to you…’
Lana pointed to a sign taped to the till that read ‘Staff abuse will not be tolerated’.
‘I suggest you stop, ma’am, or I will be forced to take action.’ she said, simply, pleasantly, never dropping the smile.
‘Or what?’ the older woman snapped, ‘You’ll force me to listen to another of the horrible songs that always play in here? Probably your boyfriend’s shitty band!’ She looked around at the few other clients in the store, hoping for support. All she got were raised eyebrows and shaking heads. Undeterred, she continued ranting.
‘I’m not surprised there are so few clients anyway, with such poor service, and your shitty attitude! Young people shouldn’t be in charge, they always mess it up! You should be ashamed!’
Lana walked around the counter. ‘I’m going to have to ask you to leave, ma’am…’
‘You can ask all you want, you little trollop! The customer is always right! Don’t you know the first thing about following store policies?’
Lana pointed to the sign again. She tapped the small prints.
‘Oh I do; in fact I was hoping you would bring it up. Look here: per company policy, any abuse will be met with corporal punishment.’
The woman blanched, and probably for the first time in her life, fell silent. It lasted a few delicious heartbeats, during which Lana’s smile only grew wider.
‘You… You can’t!…’ the woman tried.
‘Sorry ma’am,’ Lana said with relish, ‘it’s company policy!’
Without giving the woman time to argue, Lana grabbed her wrist and dragged her over to a chair that lay innocently in a corner by the counter. Having dreamt so much about it, she felt like she was just performing a role she had rehearsed many times before. Stunned, the woman only started to resist too late to change the outcome.
Lana liked to finish her day with a workout, and she was much stronger than the Karen in her grasp. Sitting down, she forced the tyrant over her lap and wasted no time in landing the first hard slap over her tight jeans. The woman screamed.
The few other customers in the shop didn’t move a single muscle to help her, and more slaps rained down, sharp and loud. The woman pleaded. She screamed more. She threatened. Nothing made Lana stop. Again and again, she slapped the woman’s ass. For an older woman, it was quite firm, shapely, bouncy. Truth be told, Lana was enjoying this immensely.
The threats slowly turned to sobs, pitiful and quiet, until Lana grabbed the jean’s waistband and started to pull down.
‘No!’ the woman pleaded with what was left of her defiance. ‘Not on the bare! People… people will see!’
‘You had no problem with people being there when you were yelling at me, did you?’
The woman said nothing.
‘You have no issue with witnesses when you humiliate store clerks, do you?
Still no answer, but the woman wriggled uncomfortably.
‘Now, I think you know that they’re coming down no matter what, so I’d advise you make it easier on yourself, ma’am….’ Lana said, menacingly.
With a defeated sigh, the woman reached for her jeans and managed to undo the button. With the woman’s jeans and white panties down to her thighs, Lana could finally admire the results of her handiwork. The round buttocks were already a dark pink, and the trembling woman had given up all hope of resisting what was to come.
The other client had long ago stopped browsing, and only pretended to look at the merchandise on offer, instead darting eyes over to the scene playing out. The smiles and nods were all the encouragement Lana needed to raise her hand once more.
With a loud SMACK!, she sent the bottom wobbling again, and the conceited woman cried out once more. More slaps came down, leaving marks and prints every time, turning the arrogant ass a bright crimson. Tears were running down the woman’s cheeks, and she was mumbling apologies in a tearful voice.
Lana continued spanking her for long, humiliating minutes, until the woman’s ass was red throughout and burning to the touch. The tears had not stopped rolling, and the sobs were a pleasant music to her ears. Then she spanked her some more, until at last she was satisfied.
None too gently, she got the woman up and dragged her to a corner of the shop. The woman kept her head down and didn’t protest. When Lana told her to put her hands on her head, she obeyed. Her jeans stayed down; so did her panties. In the following hours, the store got busier than it had ever been, as clients seemed to come in but not leave. In fact, most of them seemed to find every article in the store very interesting and made a point of checking each an every one of them in detail. As she prepared to close the store down, she tapped the woman’s shoulder and pointed to the door. With a sigh and a shameful nod, the woman pulled her jeans up and ran away.
Generational issues
“But mum!!” the girl yelled, “I’m twenty-two! You can’t— OWW!!”
Holding her daughter over her knees, the mum in question kept spanking hard.
“We’re on— OWW! Mum! We’re on lockdown! Oww! Oww!” the daughter tried again.
“And that’s no reason to be lazy, Janice!” the mother exclaimed.
“Mum, please!”
“As long as you live under my roof, young lady…”
“Yes! Yes! Your rules, I kn— OWWW! I know, mum but PLEASE!”
The slaps kept coming, sharp and biting. Her panties were long gone, down to her knees.
“When was your sociology class?”
“Ye- Ow! Yesterday…” the girl managed between to sharp intakes of breath.
“And what about Economics?”
“Mon… Ow! Oww! Owwww! Monday, mum, please, please stop!” she begged again.
“So you haven’t been to school, your bedroom is a mess, you haven’t showered, all you do is lay in bed all day, on your computer and your phone!”
Her mother shook her head, peppering Janice’s bare bottom with hard slaps.
“I know! Mum! I’m sorry! And I’ve had classes! It’s all on the computer!”
“Classes on the computer? Are you lying again?” the mother said, outraged.
“No, mum, I… OWW! I promise!”
Tears were rolling down her blushing cheeks. Her mother shook her head.
“I don’t think there are classes on the computer. I’ve never heard of that. Classes need their teacher.”
“No, mum, please… Please stop, listen! It’s— Owwww! It’s like a video-ow-ow-owww! A video-call! Please!”
“Stop your nonsense! You will go to your classes!”
“But mum! We’re in lockdown! Oww!”
“Schools are open! I’ve read it in the papers!”
“But this OWW! It’s Uni, mum! It’s on the comp—”
“Don’t tell me it’s on the computer again or I’ll go get the paddle!”
“But mum…”
Family business
The girl’s screams echo across the large, mostly empty room, a perfect counterpoint to the rhythmic, sharp noise of the slaps raining down on her ass. Again and again, her tormentor’s hand falls, delivering heavy slaps that make the girl’s tender bottom wobble and redden a little more with each blow.
Once more, she begs, begs for mercy, begs for it to stop, begs, wails and promises. It will never happen again, she cries; she has learnt her lesson, she swears; there is no need to continue, she pleads.
Time and time again, her pleas fall on deaf ears, or on ears that don’t care for her empty promises, at least. Without pausing her spanking, the stern disciplinarian says, “I’ve heard all of this before, Ella. And not just once…”
Only a wail answers. More slaps, more cries.
“I’ve warned you,” the spanker continues, “I’ve told you what would happen.”
Only sobs answer back. She carries on, matter-of-factly, “And yet you chose to take my car… Again…”
“But…” Ella manages between two sobs
“But nothing, young lady!” the other woman snaps, punctuating it with a nasty slap down between Ella’s legs. The young, curly girl howls in pain. Her skirt up, panties dangling off her leg, there is nothing to cover her bottom, or her dignity. Nothing to protect her from the wrathful slaps either.
Her mother continues, “You took the car; you took it and you got caught speeding… Again…”
The heavy palmfuls continue to rain down.
“I’m sorry muuuum!” Ella whimpers, “Please, mummy…”
The begging, as before, does nothing to attenuate the regular explosions of pain in her backside.
“You thought I wouldn’t find out, huh? Whose name is on the ticket, do you think? Who’s got to pay a fine?”
“Mum, please!” she wails.
“Wait until your father comes home…” her mother says, menacingly. Ella doesn’t think it could get any worse, but she knows better than to answer. Her father, whilst strict, usually softens up when she cries and sobs. Her mother… not so much.
As if to prove her right, a series of hard slaps come down on Ella’s thighs, making her kick her legs in agony.
“All of that for what, huh?” her mum asks.
“Muuuum!”
“To impress your boyfriend? Is it?”
“Mum, pleaaaase! Pleeease stoooooop!”
“Is that what this is, Lucas? Are you impressed right now?” the mother says, turning her head to the right.
Sat on the sofa, straight in front of Ella’s spread legs and exposed intimacy, Lucas shakes his head, not daring to say a word. Eyes open wide, his blushing cheeks are almost as red as Ella’s bottom. His mind is racing, his cock as hard as it’s ever been, painful against his tight jeans.
To be honest, he doesn’t know what turns him on more, Ella’s crimson ass and shamefully dripping pussy, or her stern, dominatrix of a mother.
The Dance – part two
Read part one here
Cindy pressed her round bottom against her locker, pushed her chest up and bat her eyelashes at Brad as he came down the corridor. The spaghetti top and tight, short denim shorts she was wearing didn’t leave much to the imagination and accentuated her round hips and full breasts.
“Heyyy, Brad…” she purred, “I heard Susanna cancelled on your for the dance… That’s too bad…”
Brad came to a stop in front of her and put let his rucksack down on the floor. Taller than she was, lean and toned, his hair cropped on one side, he was everything that that made her bite her lips with desire. She often thought of him at night, alone in her bed, when her hands started to wander.
He stared. “Yeah… You wouldn’t have anything to do with that, would you Cind?” he said.
“Me?” she said in her most innocent voice, “Why would I do that?”
“I heard you were pretty pissed at her…”
“Oh yeah? Who told you that?!”
“It doesn’t matter who. Did you do it?”
“Do what?” She raise an eyebrow.
Brad put his hands on his hips and frowned.
“You know what!”
“No!” she pretended “I don’t.”
He blushed and continued in a hushed tone, looking up and down the corridor.
“You spanked her? What’s wrong with you?”
She laughed. “What? Who told you that?”
“it doesn’t matter who told me!”
“I never… spanked… her. What the fuck, Brad? Are you a pervert or something?
“What?”
“That’s your fetish, huh? Girls spanking each other?”
“What? No! I…”
“Oh I’m sure it is… Naughty, naughty girls getting punished… Is that what you like, Brad?” she smiled wider while he blushed.
“You’ve got issues, Cind…” he muttered
“Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it? Are you going to take me to the dance or what?”
He took his bag from the floor and grabbed Cindy by the wrist, not too gently.
“Come on, not here,” he said, and pulled her towards and empty classroom.
“What are you doing?” she asked, half smiling, half panicking. Maybe she had taken it a little too far? Surely not. She knew how boys thought, manipulating them was one of her favourite things. A little teasing, a little waving her hips around, and she had them wrapped around her finger.
He closed the door behind them as they entered the empty classroom and let go of her wrist.
“Well?” she asked, hiding her misgivings behind another grin.
“I know you did spank Susanna, and don’t you even dare deny it!”
She shrugged, “Yeah, and? That slut shouldn’t have been strutting around, that’s all…”
“Don’t call her that!”
“What? A slut? I call a piggy a piggy, that’s all!”
“All right, that’s enough,” he said, grabbing her arm and dragging her to the nearest chair, “You think you can spank someone just because you don’t like them? Well I’ll show you how that feels.”
He sat down and swiftly bend her over his knees.
“Hey! No! Stop!” she yelped, but he didn’t listen. Without another word, he raised his hand and smacked her bottom, a loud, painful slap that immediately made her eyes water in surprise, pain, and delicious shame. Not wasting a second, another slap fell, and another, and another until the sound of them filled the room in a steady rhythm punctuated by whining, barely contained cries. She kicked her legs
“Brad!…” she pleaded, tears rolling down her cheeks. This wasn’t going as planned, not at all. “Brad, please!…”
Unmoved, he continued to rain spanks over her round, denim-clad bottom. Already he could see her sit spots turning a satisfying red. After a dozen more slaps, he grabbed the waistband of her shorts and dragged them down, panties and all, to her knees despite her outraged protest.
“No! No! Stop! You can’t!”
“Did you give Susanna a choice?”
“No but… Please! I’m sorry, all right! You can go with that bitch, I don’t —OWWW!”
“Don’t call her that,” he said, punctuating each syllable with a hard, painful slap on her now naked bottom. As he kept on spanking and smacking her round, bouncing bottom, her shorts and panties fell further down her legs until they were at her ankles, then on the floor. All the whiles, her tears were flowing openly, her cries getting more desperate.
“Braaad! Please! I beg you! I’m sorryyy! Please! Please! Someone will come! Someone will see…”
“Did you think of that when you were doing it to Susanna?”
The slaps were getting harder and harder. Cindy was sobbing, bawling, unable to articulate her begging anymore. Finally, satisfied, he relented. His hand resting on her burning, bruised cheeks, he said, “If I hear that you said anything to Susanna, if I hear you’ve been anywhere near her, I promise you you’ll end up in the same position for round two. Is that clear?”
She sniffed, “Y-yessir…”
All the while, shaking from the sobs, the pain, the humiliation, and the scolding, she was thinking. Only three people knew what she had really done the day before. Only three people knew that she’s spanked Susanna on the bare. Three people: herself, Susanna of course —but she wouldn’t have dare admit it to Brad— and Abi. That bitch Abi. She had told Brad, she was sure of it. That. Bitch.
She was going to pay.
Sneaking Out
Simple enough, Lilah figured, to just climb back up the side of the house by the pipe and get back in. It was the way she’d gotten out of the house once her father was asleep, and it was how the teenage girl would got back inside and pretend she’d been asleep and in bed the whole night when the sun rose.
So, she made her way up. She was only 5’2 and her height didn’t help her in the slightest, but it wasn’t exactly difficult to climb up either. What she had to be most mindful of was noise. If she woke him up now, she’d be done for.
She got back inside through the bedroom window with seemingly no fuss, and after shutting the window quietly behind her, she let out a deep sigh of relief.
With a heavy sigh, Michael, her adoptive father, fully opened the bedroom door behind which he had been standing and turned the light on. He’d been waiting, anxious, angry, worried, furious.
Lilah, his adoptive daughter, was… complicated. Draining. His pride and joy. A real brat.
Sometimes, he didn’t know what to do with her. But it usually ended with her apologising through her tears, her bottom a dark crimson. Tonight might be one of those.
He glared.
“Well? Anything to say?” he said.
“Daddy!” She smiled, fakely, nervously, and began putting on her ‘I’m just a little kid, don’t be mad at me!’ voice, even though she was far from being one anymore.
“I was just going outside to see the stars! What are you doing in here?”
“I’ve been waiting, Lilah,” he growled, “I’ve been waiting for hours. I’m sure you’ve seen many stars on this overcast night…”
He crossed his arms over his chest.
“Do you want to try that again?” he continued.
“Well, y’know, um, I went for a walk to see if I could see them anywhere. Like, around the clouds you know?” Shit. He was totally on her trail, and that was bad. “Buuut I really should be going to bed now, so-“
He raises an eyebrow
“For three hours, huh?” he shook his head, “Lilah, I think you know better than to lie to me, don’t you? It’s bad enough that you disobey, it’s bad enough that I was worried sick, don’t lie to me on top of it!” His voice was getting louder and louder as he went. She winced at that. It was always a sign that he was getting fed up, and perhaps it was better to just come clean… though she hated it when her adoptive father was cross with her.
“U-um… I went to Emi’s house because they were having hum… a ‘get together’.” She explained, her cheeks heating up in embarrassment. “Honest, That’s where I was…”
He sighed. “A get together, huh? Just hanging out, sipping orange juice? Yes?”
He closed the bedroom door behind him with and ominous ‘clank’.
“I-it was really just a couple of close friends!” she said, backing up when he closed the door. She wished he would just leave her alone to go bed, but the chance of that happening seemed smaller and smaller.
“I swear daddy, it was just like, six of us, and we only had like, soda and stuff! Really! You can smell my breath if you want, I wasn’t drinking!”
“Soda and stuff” he said, dismissively, “Oh, Lilah… Why… Why do you keep doing this? Do I not treat you well? Are you really so fed up with your old man that you simply don’t care? Is that it? Because frankly, I can’t see why you’re doing this…”
He shook his head again.
“You know what needs to happen now, don’t you?” he said again.
“No! Dad, I just- I just wanted to go and you said I couldn’t but… I should be able to! It’s not fair!”
Her friends always got to hang out no problems, and Lilah was always stuck getting told no, or negotiating with the stern older man.
However, she could predict his next move. “A-and I won’t do it again! I’m sorry, I know I should’ve told you…”
“I said you couldn’t. And you still did, didn’t you?” he asked, his tone ice-cold. He went and sat on the bed
“Now, I’ll ask you again, Lilah… What’s going to happen?”
He rolled up his sleeves, keeping his gaze on her.
The teen whimpered, and tears gathered in her eyes at the prospect of having to go over his knee or over anything to be smacked. Not again…
“Y-you’re going to spank me- please don’t spank me, dad, please-!” She whined, backing up to the wall. “I-I’m 17! I’m too old for that! I just wanted to go with my friends, you’re being unfair!”
“If you behaved, there would be no need for a spanking. And if you behaved, I would be more inclined to let you hang out, as you put it” he said, and gestured her over. “Come nicely, own up to it and it will be over soon, all right? The more you argue, the worse it’ll get, you know that…”
“Daaad…” she whined again, seeing that he wasn’t going easy on her. “I’m sorry, I know I made you worry, but I didn’t mean to!”
Still, she knew how his rules were, and she slowly came to stand in front of him. “I’ll behave from now on, I promise…”
He closed his eyes and sighed “Now where have I heard that before?”
He smiled, sadly “I believe you, my little butterfly…” he said, “But I’m not letting you get away with it. You need to learn.”
He pointed to her worn-out jeans and said:
“Take them off”
Her face was blushing bright red at the prospect of being this age and still being subjected to a spanking, but at this point, there really was no getting out of it, was there?
“Yes sir…” she murmured, a tear running down her cheek. When she’d been adopted, she’d never expected this, and every time It happened, she always swore it never would again, but it always did. She undid the button and pushed the trousers down to her knees, thoroughly mortified.
“What are…” he started, seeing the lacy, pale pink panties that she was wearing. He blushed. “You know what, I don’t want to know…”
She wasn’t even sure how to explain that one had to wear sexy panties when they went to hang out with friends and their boyfriend of course, because what if things had gone further? That night, Lilah was glad that they hadn’t.
He took her wrist and gently brought her down over his lap.
Sometimes, he forgot how grown up she was now. Even if she ended up on his lap with her bottom bared more often than her card to remember, she was nearly an adult now. Where had the time gone?
He cleared his throat.
“This could have been avoided, you know. All you had to do was stay in your bed, be on your phone, anything… But you had to disobey…”
He wanted to scold her, but his heart wasn’t in it.
“Let’s get this over with…” he said, finally.
With a loud SLAP!, he let the first blow fall on her barely covered bottom
“You never let me hang out with my friends!” She whined, a tear already falling from her eye. She always felt horribly guilty in this position. “You’re being unfair daddy!!”
The slaps keep coming, one cheek, the other, hard, fast. SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!
“I am not! Other kids have earned the right to go out unsupervised! I can’t say you have…”
SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! the hand keeps falling, quickly turning the pale white of her cheeks a pale pink, then to red.
“Again and again you disobey!”
“Daddy!!” Lilah yelped, whimpered, gasped and cried out in pain, and still the hand was relentless. It hurt badly, so badly that she couldn’t help but bury her face in her hands and sob.
She’d only disobeyed because she felt he was always so unreasonable with her! He couldn’t control her forever, she was practically an adult! Or so she thought, at least…
“I’ll be good! I’m sorrryyy!” she sobbed.
After a dozen more hard slaps, he paused. Her bottom felt burning to the touch and he knew that there was a very wet patch of duvet where she’s been burying her head to muffle her screams and sobs.
“I really want to believe that you are, my butterfly… I really, really do…”
Still, he grabbed the waistband of her lacy underwear…
“Daddy no! P-Please!” She rarely ever referred to him as such anymore, and for her to be doing it so frequently meant she was truly upset.
Her hand flew back next to his, also taking a firm hold on the waistband to keep it pulled up over her cheeks. “I promise, daddy, I swear! Please, please not on the bare. I’ll never leave the house again! Please!”
“I…” he hesitated “Maybe you are a little old for that…” he said, unsure. He could feel his cheeks blushing. Taking her hand off the undies, he wedged them up instead of pulling them down, revealing her burning red globes but leaving her intimacy covered.
Swiftly, the slaps began raining down again, harder now, intent on giving her a proper lesson.
“I do hope you will obey, Lilah.. I do…”
Lilah could swear that her skin was raw, and possibly even starting to bruise. She felt she had a good pain tolerance but this… this was all too painful and not to mention, humiliating. It was embarrassing to be put over his knee like she was still a little girl!
“I will!” She whimpered, tears dripping from her face onto the bedsheets her head was above. “I’ll be good! I’ll obey, I w-will! No more, please n-no more!” Her legs kicked somewhat involuntary, and her hands gripped tight onto his pant leg.
With a loud, harsh final SLAP!, he let her catch her breath and gently stroked her hair as she sobbed quietly.
“There, there… It’s over now… It’s over…”
He helped her up and sat her on the bed next to him.
“I love you, my sweet butterfly…” he said with a sad smile, and offered his arms to her, hoping she would forgive the pain and hold him like she used to when he’d first adopted her.
“H-hurts…” Lilah cried, her hands under her to rub gingerly at her sore, abused cheeks. Heat radiated off them, and she fell into his arms. If he was going to spank her like a child, then she’d accept the comfort that came with it.
“I’m sorry…” she whispered
He held her tight and stoked her hair.
“I know, butterfly, I know…”
He closed his eyes and sighed
“Daddy’s here, it’s all going to be all right…”
This story was written in collaboration with Lia 🙂
