Musings & fessées
As I was finishing this commision for a client, I was looking through a dictionary of the Monachi language, spoken by the Native American Mon people that live in the Southern Sierra Nevada (yes, that is quite random, but I love learning about other languages).
Here are some words you should know 😉
cete or pihqo are buttocks
the clitoris is a kwyky
a pretty girl is a syjatyhmy
tyni’ is a master
pata-kwini means naked
hawa means to scold
And here’s an alternate version of the picture ^^
Tamika turned around and reached for a box of products she was to put in the display window of the department store. As she did so, her round hips slammed into one of the shelves, sending it crashing down with a thunderous bang. Reaching to try and save any of it, she banged her elbow into the second display shelf, sending it down as well. All the intricate, delicately arranged displays, hours of effort, lay ruined on the floor. The other employees shook their heads and facepalmed. This wasn’t the first time she’d had an ‘accident’. The manager, Mr Jones, walked up to the bashful Tamika, who stood frozen in the middle of the mess she’d created.
“Enough is enough!” said Mr. Jones, his tone sharp and angry “Tamika, follow me to me office.”
“Oh, but Sir…”
“No ‘buts’, young lady, I’ve had quite enough of your excuses!”
The young girl looked down and twisted her fingers, looking for something to say, something to save her from what she knew was to come. The other employees had warned her: Mr Jones, as nice and fair a boss as he was, was pretty old-school when it came to discipline. They had told her he routinely spanked employees if they messed up. Surely, she had thought, they had been messing with her. Surely, it was just a prank to scare the newbie… Surely…
Hesitantly, she followed Mr Jones to his office, and closed the door that displayed a gold-lettered ‘Manager’ sign behind her. She was blushing, feeling scared and ashamed. Mr Jones had been very kind to her, patient despite her repeated mistakes. Now he seemed really cross. Even then, she couldn’t deny a certain attraction towards him. She’d always like authority; she liked to know her place in the world and being told what to do eased her anxiety. Still, her clumsiness had, once again, landed her in trouble.
Mr Jones pulled an object out of the top drawer of his desk and set it down on said desk with a wooden, heavy thud.
“Do you know what this is, Tamika?”
Her eyes widened.
“Hum… A… A paddle, Sir.”
“A paddle, exactly. Were you ever spanked before?”
“Sp-spanked, Sir? I… Hum… No, no, never…”
“Well, I’m sure I don’t need to draw you a picture…”
“But Sir, you’re not… I mean, you can’t—”
“Can’t I? As I see it, this is very simple, Tamika. Either you take responsibility for your actions and accept your punishment, or you can go find another job.”
“No Sir, please! I love this job! But please…. That… That would be so humiliating…”
He nodded. “Yes. And hopefully that’ll stick with you.”
“I…”
“I’m not going to say it again. The spanking or the door, your decision.”
She hesitated, thinking about her job, her colleagues, her future, weighing her mistakes against the utter humiliation of being spanked like a little misbehaving brat. Then again, she had been careless —again— and she was ashamed of herself. She looked up at him, his groomed beard and neat, pulled back dreadlocks a picture of fatherly authority. She felt… something in her stomach, a mix of fear and desire. She bit her lip and looked down.
“I don’t want to lose my job…” she finally said.
Mr Jones nodded. “Very well then, I think you’re making the right decision.” He pointed at her, “Take your shirt and skirt off,” he said.
“But Sir… Mr Jones, please…”
“No arguing, Tamika! You’re not the first I’ve had to bring here for a ‘talk’”
“Yes, Sir…” she mumbled softly, and slowly unbuttoned her shirt. Her skirt was next, and she stood in front of him in her unflattering underwear, her cheeks already burning with humiliation. She felt tears welling in her eyes when she looked at the paddle again. Her hands behind her back, she tugged at the band of her panties, pulling them up in the vain hope of covering her large, round buttocks a little more. The fabric tensed between her legs and she felt a shiver of pleasure running up her spine.
Sitting in his office chair, he beckoned her over, and she came, submissively, to lay across his lap. His hand held her at the waist, firm, warm. She closed her eyes and tears rolled down her cheeks. She deserved to be punished, she knew it. The first blow of the paddle came as she was about to say how sorry she was. Instead, she moaned loudly and kicked her legs. The paddle came down again, slapping across her round ass, setting it on fire. She gritted her teeth, trying to keep as quiet as she could. With each of the hard, heavy hits that followed, she felt the guilt leaving her, the pain washing it all way. The paddle fell again and again, and the more she hurt, the better she felt. Tears were rolling freely down her cheeks, and she sobbed with abandon, having never felt that relieved despite the shame, the humiliation, and the pain.
When her bottom felt like it couldn’t take any more of a beating, Mr Jones finally relented, and let her go. He directed her to the corner, where she stayed a long while, her hands over her head. Thoughts were racing through her head. She felt like the greatest weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She felt liberated. She knew now that there would be consequences for her mistakes. She didn’t have to internalise all the guilt anymore. She didn’t have to do it alone. She dared a glance back at Mr Jones, who was busy working at his desk. Her bottom was still burning hot. She loved it.
“Owwww!” Lexi cried out, “Owww! Stop!”
“Nope…” said Keisha, her hand coming down once more on Lexi’s bare bottom.
“You made your point!” Lexi cried again.
“Nope…” Keisha said, nonchalantly, landing another hard slap. Lexi’s ass was a deep red by now, and Keisha’s added a few hard slaps to her thighs for good measure.
“Keisha… Owww! Please! Please!”
“I think I’ve told you I would stop once I was happy with your punishment?” Keisha’s hand hurt, but she didn’t let up, spanking her roommate without a pause.
“But surely… Owww! Surely by now…”
“Nope…” The slaps came again and again, hard, strict, painful.
“Keishaaa…”
“That’s my name, yes?” Her hand went down once more, unwavering.
“I’m sorry…”
“There are two things I can’t stand, Lex…” Keisha said, her hand like that of the law, heavy and punishing.
“Yes?”
“Liars and thieves.” Merciless, she kept landing slap after hard slap on Lexi’s bruised, crimson round cheeks.
“I’ll make it back to you! I’ll buy it all back!”
“I’m sure you will.” She went for the thighs again, making Lexi cried out in pain. She wouldn’t be able to sit for a while, that was a given. Good.
“Keish—Oww! I’m sorryyyy…”
“Yup.” She went from full-palmed hand slaps to dry, quick one with the tip of her fingers. Lexi’s bottom wiggled and bounced as she winced and wiggled, helpless.
“Please stop…”
“Nope…”
Robyn played with one of her curls wrapped around her index. She cast a quick glace around the shop and hurried towards the exit.
‘Wait! Miss? Miss? Where are you going?’ asked a loud, stern voice.
‘I… I…’ the young girl stammered, blushing hard. She kept walking towards the exit, head down, eyes shut, trying to avoid the unavoidable.
‘Hey! Wait!’ the other woman continued. She was tall, lean. With a few long strides, she caught up with Robyn and grabbed her arm.
‘L-let me go…’ the young girl tried, biting her lip. She looked up at the woman. The woman’s eyes were ice-cold behind her glasses. She was looking at her up and down, frowning.
‘All right, young lady, where is it?’ she asked.
‘Where is what?’ Robyn said, trying to be defiant.
The woman pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and sneered. ‘You know exactly what, young lady.’
‘Let me go! You’re hurting my arm’
‘Where did you stuff the clothes that you took?’
‘I… I…’ Robyn felt tears starting to well up in her eyes, ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…’
‘You… Didn’t mean to grab clothes off the racks and stuff them somewhere?’
‘No, I… It… Hum… It was a dare and…’
‘A dare?’
‘Yes…’ she said, sheepishly, ‘It’s my friends, they…’
‘What friends?’
‘They’re over… there,’ Robyn said, her voice dropping to a whisper as she pointed to an empty space outside the shop, in the mall. She didn’t think that she could blush more than she was already doing, and yet… Defeated, she looked down at her feet and tugged nervously at her skirt with her free hand.
‘Please…’ she started, but the tall woman interrupted her and raised her hand, palm up.
‘The clothes. Now.’
Biting her lips, Robyn lifted her blouse and pulled up the stolen tee-shirt half-tucked in the waistband or her pleated skirt. Without looking up and without a word, she put it in the woman’s waiting hand.
‘A ten-dollar shirt… Well I hope it was worth it. Come with me.’
‘Wh-what? Where? It… It was just a dare, I swear… Please…’
‘Oh, it’s very simple… We’re going to go in the back, and we’re going to wait for the police to arrive.’
‘The police? No, no, no, no, no… Please! I’ll do anything; please!’
The woman rolled her eyes and punched a code into a secure door.
‘Please!’ Robyn insisted. ‘Please! I’ll work for you; I’ll clean your house! I’ll do anything!’ Tears were rolling down her cheeks.
Having closed the door behind them, the woman finally let go of her arm, and Robyn rubbed it in silence. The woman pointed at a chair. She sat down without a word, her head down in her hands, sobbing and sniffling.
The woman picked up a phone from the desk that occupied a corner of the room. She typed a number and let her finger hover above the ‘call’ button. She looked up at Robyn, sobbing in her chair. She rolled her eyes again and sighed before putting the phone down.
‘What’s your name?’ she asked the girl.
‘R… Robyn Miller, ma’am,’ she managed between two sobs. ‘I’m so sorry…’ she added, quietly.
‘Okay, Robyn Miller. You should re-think who your friends are, don’t you agree?’
‘Yes ma’am…’
‘Do you have a lot of friends, Robyn?’
‘Not… Not really…’
‘And you think that doing any idiotic thing they tell you to do is going to make them your friends?’
‘I… I don’t know, ma’am…’
‘I think you know… I think you know that that’s not how friends treat each other.’
‘Yes ma’am…’
Sitting against the desk, the woman crossed her arms.
‘Now, what do you think should happen?’
‘I… I don’t know… I don’t want to go to j-j-jail’ she bawled.
‘Don’t you think you deserve to be punished? You think stealing is okay?’
‘No, no, it’s not, I know! I’m sorry; I’m SO sorry, I swear… I’ve never done… anything like this…’
‘What should we do, then?’
‘I… Well… I… I don’t…’ she broke into more tears.
The woman rubbed the bridge of her nose,
‘Right. Robyn. Have you been spanked before?’
‘Have I been…’
‘Spanked, yes. As a kid?’
Shocked, Robyn looked up.
‘B-b-by my mom… But… But… I was little and…’
‘You agreed that you deserved to be punished, didn’t you? Would you rather I made that call?’
‘No! No, please!’
‘Then you’re going to come over my knees, and I’m going to give you a spanking you’ll remember for a long, long time. Understood?’
The woman’s piercing blue eyes pinned Robyn in place. The young girl swallowed and nodded quietly.
‘I didn’t hear that?’
‘Yes… Ma’am…’ she sniffled.
The woman snapped her fingers.
‘Get up.’
Robyn did as she was told, and the woman took her place in the chair.
‘Take your skirt and blouse off.’
‘Wh-why?’
‘No arguing, young lady! It’s not too late for me to make that call.’
‘No, no! I’ll do whatever you say.’
She unbuttoned her blouse and put it down on the desk, then undid her skirt and let it fall to the floor in a ruffle of fabric. She stood there, in her underwear, blushing in apprehension.
The woman tapped her lap. ‘Come over here.’
Again, she obeyed, finding her place over the woman’s knees. The position immediately brought back memories of her previous punishments at home, and she clenched her round buttocks reflexively.
‘Why are you being punished, Robyn?’
‘Hum, because… Because I—
SMACK! The first slap cut her reply short. Another followed immediately, an another, and another. Within thirty seconds, she was squirming over the woman’s lap, her panties barely softening the harsh blows that rained down on her bottom. Her eyes filled with tears and she let out a little cry every time the woman’s hand slammed down.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
Again and again, the stern woman peppered her soft, young bottom with handfuls of scorn.
‘I’m sorry…’ she managed between the sobs that she couldn’t contain. ‘I’m so sorry… I… Oww!’
The first slap on her thigh surprised her. Soon, they were just another area on fire. She felt pain, she was humiliated, she was ashamed of herself. She was angry. At the woman, at herself, and at her pretend friends who’d gotten her in the position.
The woman kept spanking her, a little pinched, satisfied smile on her face. Truth be told, that young girl on her lap was getting punished for all the others she hadn’t caught, and for every disrespectful client to which she’d dreamt she could do the same. Her round globes were bright red, and they bounced adorably with each and every slap.
After what felt to Robyn like an eternity, she was allowed to get up. She waddled to the corner of the room that the woman pointed to. Hands on her head, she waited and sobbed quietly. She had never felt so much pain. She wondered whether she would ever be able to sit again. Another eternity later, she felt a hand gently laying on her shoulder. She turned around, raising watery eyes up to look at her tormentor.
‘What will you do when you get out of here, Robyn Miller?’
‘I… I will go home and…’
‘Robyn…’
‘I… I will find new friends…’
‘Real friends…
‘I don’t know how…’
‘Well, tell you what. If you come back with a resume, I’ll have a spot for you. You can make a little money, and do things that you like, rather than hanging out with people that, clearly, don’t appreciate you.’
‘Oh! I…’ She was so surprised she didn’t know what to say. That woman was clearly evil incarnate, so why would she…
‘And another thing… If you manage to bring one of these ‘friends’ in the shop, I’ll take them to the back and give them a piece of my mind…’ She winked.
Grace was not having a good day. Not a good day at all.
The hand fell on her pert bottom with a sharp *SMACK!* and she let out a pained moan, biting her lip not to cry out.
“Please…” she begged for the umpteenth time, “Please, Brea… Stop… Pl—”
She screwed her eyes shut as another heavy slap landed on her sore bottom. Again and again the vengeful hand went down, fast, hard, smacking one cheek then the other like a merciless metronome. The piece was allegro, most definitely.
“Brea!” She managed as her tormentor paused to rub her hand and readjust her over her knees.
“What?” the other girl snapped, “I’ve heard all you had to say. It doesn’t change anything.”
“Please… I— OWww! Please! Pl— Oowww! I… I’ve learnt my— Ooowww… Will you please stooOowww…”
Her begging was turning to sobs, and she could feel the tears starting to run down her cheeks.
“Brea! It was just a pho— Ooowww!”
“What? Just a photograph?! You’ve gotta be kidding me…”
“Hum… No…?” she said, hesitantly, “I mean, I didn’t… You know?”
“You didn’t what? Fuck my boyfriend? Well, damn, thank you, that’s very kind of you!”
“That’s not what I…”
“Whatever you meant, I don’t want to hear it. What I can tell you, though, is that after we’re done, he’s going to receive a very surprising pic…”
*SMACK!* the first slap fell and Laura cried out as her eyes watered instantly. *SMACK!* another, just as hard ; she clenched her teeth, moaning painfully as the next ten fell in a quick succession over her short skirt. Way too short, she thought as she lay across her teacher’s lap, the top of her stockings already peeking out from under the blue tartan fabric.
Laura had always been tall, and even now in college she was among the tallests in her class. That had gotten her some attention over the years but never had she regretted more than that morning as she was taking her final in a crowded room and thought herself safe from the eyes of her teachers.
She had thought she would get away with a little help sheet, just a few formulae to help her out. She had thought she wouldn’t be noticed. She had thought she would get away with it. She had thought wrong, of course.
As she was giving her work back, her teacher had taken Laura aside and informed her he would be failing her, and that she could try her luck again the next year. Her head bowed, blushing, tears in her eyes, she had begged quietly, tried to explain herself, promised she would do anything, but it was all to no avail.
Laura had decided to wait in the corridor until all the other students had gone, and had gone back inside to try her luck on last time. Her teacher and the other two that were helping him that day stared at her when she entered the room and walked to them. She couldn’t have been more ashamed —or so she thought at the time.
*SMACK!* the slaps continued to rain down on her barely covered bottom, pain and heat building up rapidly as her teacher scolded her for daring to cheat, having the nerve to ask for leniency, her skimpy outfit, everything. She cried more out of shame than out of pain, the thought of disappointing him even worse than simply failing her class.
He got her skirt up with a quick pull and instantly resumed her punishment, her little light-pink thong offering no protection at all. The two other teachers still hadn’t left the room, and were going to great lengths to go in every row and check that no student had forgotten a pen or an article of clothing, or anything really. She could feel their gaze on her long legs, her red, burning bottom. And still the spanking went on, harsh and unforgiving.
Her thong went down and so did the tears on her face, abundant now. She could feel the bulge in her teacher’s trousers as he continued berating her and slamming his palm on her already crimson behind. She couldn’t even understand what he was saying anymore, the pain overwhelming all her other senses. She moaned, loudly, she cried, she begged. Spank after hard spank rained down on her slender cheeks in a continuous shower, leaving not a single spot unblemished. It seemed to her it went on forever until, at last, he stopped.
He got her up from over his knees and pointed to the desk.
“I’ll give you one hour to retake the exam,” he said, and she nodded, sniffling and trying to wipe the tears off her cheeks. She didn’t dare rubbing her bottom for fear he would take her over his lap again.
“However,” he continued, “you will take it standing at that desk, with your skirt up and your…” he shook his head, “…thong down.”
She blushed. “But sir…”
“I’m not done!” he cut her, and got up, taking his belt of with metallic click, “You will be getting sixty strokes of the belt, one for every minute I give you.”
Laura felt a shiver go up her spine and her hand flew to her bottom. “I…”
“Last chance, miss Spencer. You can walk away and fail your exam, it’s all the same to me.”
Head bowed, she walked over to the desk. He got a fresh paper out of his briefcase and put it down before her. She assumed the position: bent over the desk, a pen in her hand and her throbbing bottom up. She could barely see the paper through the tears.
Her teacher got behind her, his belt held in a loop in his hand. He raised his arm high.
“Your test begins… Now!”
Place to post my stories.
f/f spanking stories/ 18 and above
(Formerly Miss D) A place for me to journal about my BDSM lifestyle
Keep Looking Back Over your Shoulder
Sharing my authentic self (mature audience only, please NSFW)
Married submissive: The love, the kink and the connection.
[No cats were harmed in the making of this blog. They all love to be spanked.] Exploring the psychology 'behind' spanking through fiction and poetry. Because, nothing says 'I love you' better than a red, sore, bare bottom. Comments welcome and discussion encouraged. I believe spanking between consenting adults leads to closer and more intimate relationships. Spanking is not a kink, not a fetish, not a lifestyle, but rather, a healthy and honest means of communication. Let your mind free and respect will follow. Contact me lurvspanking@gmail.com
NSFW; F/F Spanking Stories
