Male/Female Stories

Elena of Oak Hall, by Alexia (May 25, 2015)

Elena bent over and held the left edge of the chair, then lowered herself across the man's lap. She inched forward, positioning her bottom so that it was at the best angle to receive the licks. Her toes just barely reached the floor. Her hands were planted on the thick carpeting. The dark hair cascaded down around her face, and as she reached around to sweep it to one side of her head, she felt her skirt lift up. It was folded back to her waist, exposing the round, fullness of her arched backside.

She glanced to her right. The Director was still watching. Then she felt Denis' weight shift beneath her as he got a secure grip on her waist with his left hand, and raised the paddle in his right. She dropped her head and closed her eyes.

Equal Treatment Under the Cane, by A.L. Purvis (May 25, 2015)

She couldn't look at the man who had whipped her into this frenzy. She felt her blush rising again, but she couldn't stop herself from giving little hoots whenever a thrilling throb tweaked her. Did he know? He had to hear her hooting. Could he see? How could she gracefully get out of here?

She faced away from him as she slithered off the spanking chair and stumbled around kneading the welts on her bottom. Better if he sees her nether cheeks with the horizontal stripes on them than her facial cheeks with the vertical tear streaks marring her looks and giving her the appearance of a soundly spanked grade school girl.

Spanking in Fantasy Land, by A.W. (May 22, 2015)

"What protection are you talking about?" I asked, not really getting the point myself but indeed curious.

"I mean silly, that you can paddle us across our panties," the half smile returning.

As the word "panties" registered, you have knocked me over with a whisper; I was that unprepared for such a response! Trying to fake making an actual decision, I gazed out an open window, hoping my excitement would not show. Knowing I'd just stumbled onto a no lose situation, I accepted their offer, producing the chosen instrument of correction from its hiding place.

Fire and Ice, by E. Finn (May 22, 2015)

The jig was up. Heaving a huge sigh, Heather did as bid, allowing Don to slip her panties down to join her other garments at mid-thigh. She clenched her bottom muscles tightly. Her rump was getting chilly. She could feel snow flakes landing back there. "Shit," she muttered to herself, "I'll probably catch my death."

Don adored his wife's bottom. Not that he had anything against her breasts, which were nicely shaped and in no need of a bra, nor her legs, long and slim, but he was a bottom man. Never had it looked more appealing than now, round and firm and slightly damp. He decided to start with a little smack-bottom to focus her attention. He wanted to impress upon her the seriousness of her action. She was more concerned with where she was than with what was happening. He intended to alter that. Besides, smack-bottoms are fun.

Smack. Smack. Whack. Smack.

A Doctor's Debt, by Ken Harding (May 18, 2015)

A second spank followed on the other cheek. Then there followed a still longer pause, while he contemplated the mobility of her bottom muscles, the racing, tremoring flections in her shapely thighs and the tightening of her calf muscles. There was no doubt that Sheila Evans was exquisitely sensitive, and the heightening anguish of shame and humiliation at her exposure and that being treated like a child in this way intensified all the fluid mobility of her voluptuous young body.

The long delay which now ensued after the first two spanks gave Sheila Evans abundant opportunity to be aware of her reactions both physically and psychologically; the permeating sting seemed to encompass both cheeks of her quivering, tensing, buttocks, spreading even down to her thighs and into her loins. But the sensation of shame was paramount, knowing that she was exposed in this semi-clad condition in the most childish pose across the lap of a man old enough to be her father and who was, in effect, assuming the role of surrogate father by doling out to her this her very first corporal chastisement.

 

A Doctor's Medicine, by Tom (May 18, 2015)

When the doctor paused again and waited for Judy to calm down a bit, he looked over to the head nurse and asked her if the other two nurses to whom Judy was so rude were on duty. The head nurse said that they were and the doctor then asked her to go and get them and bring them to the room. Judy was too preoccupied with the smarting burn in her bottom to hear the doctor's instructions and did not notice the head nurse leaving the room. While the head nurse was gone the doctor took the time to talk to Judy in a firm but fatherly manner. He told Judy that she was really acting like a baby rather than an eighteen year old young lady and that the paddling he had given her so far was hardly such that would warrant all her carrying on. "You know, Judy, I have two daughters of my own, one almost as old as you are. They both answer to this paddle when they misbehave themselves. And, believe, they get it just as hard as you are getting it this afternoon."

Not So Happy Days, by C.J. West (May 15, 2015)

Not only was Howard not convinced, he became more angry.

"Young lady," he said, pulling his daughter to her feet, "show some control. K.C., who is younger than you, accepted her punishment with maturity and here you are, crying like a baby. Now, either you come over here right now and get across my lap or I'll invite K.C. in here to watch you get spanked."

Joanie's body went stiff. A spanking would be awful. But a spanking in front of someone else would be unbearable. She felt herself being guided toward the bed and, after her father had seated himself, pulled forward across his lap. When her nose stopped just inches from the floor she knew she was in position.

Going Steady, by Barbie (May 15, 2015)

Uncle Grant left her to "get ready." Getting ready for the hairbrush meant that she got into her pajamas and stood in the corner with her bottom bare for about half an hour. Barbie struggled out of the jeans and thankfully stuffed her pretty panties into the back of her lingerie drawer. Once in her pajamas, she picked up the hairbrush. She was supposed to hold its smooth oval surface against her bottom as she stood waiting but this time she threw the nasty thing on the bed.

"Seven spankings! Seven!" She stomped her feet as she headed toward the corner. She pulled her pajama panties down to her knees and then let her hands go back to rub her bottom. She hated the hairbrush. It hurt forever and ever. She fumed. Why couldn't Uncle Grant understand about boys? She was supposed to have boyfriends. Lots of the other girls did. Everyone expected a girl to have boyfriends. It was bad enough that she got good grades, if she couldn't have a boyfriend everyone would think she was like Emmy Lou Parkins. Emmy Lou wore funnier clothes than Uncle Grant liked. They called Emmy Lou "The Brain." Kids weren't being nice either. Barbie was very careful not to advertise her brain at college. Uncle Grant was the only one who saw her report card. He appreciated "A's".

Fair's Fair, by E. Finn (May 11, 2015)

Barb caught her breath at the fascinating sounds emanating from the bedroom. Obviously, the old brush still packed its old wallop. Also, the frantic desperation already being expressed in Kim's whoops and yelps indicated that either she had an unusually tender bottom, or Jack was an extremely able disciplinarian. Barb presumed the former, since Kim's sassy rear end had been spared the rigors of such chastisement for way too long. Besides, Jack did not strike her as especially strict or enthusiastic regarding spanking. Hopefully this little session would rekindle his appreciation for the salutary effect of such punishment. There is no better method for correcting a naughty young lady's misbehavior.

The Family, by Mark Stiles (May 11, 2015)

And then it began. A loud “oh, please” as he took her across his knees; a grumbled scolding as he positioned her so that her upturned behind was in the perfect position for him to minister to her; a final few high pitched whines as she begged stridently for leniency. At times like this her entreaties would change from “please don’t spank me” to “please, not too hard”; the change indicative of her resignation that she was, indeed, going to be punished...and this day was no exception. And then the first several spanks rang out like pistol shots....SMACK, CRACK, SMACK, SMACK; accompanied by some loud squeals as she felt the burn and the sting. Dad has a strong right arm and he smacked that hairbrush onto the upturned flesh with a snap of the wrist that rendered the spanks nearly unbearable. But bear it she must. Again and again the hairbrush snapped down to the accompaniment of Mom’s squeals and squeaks and cries. Though I had never seen Mom’s bare behind, I could picture it squirming and twisting, her legs constrained by her downpulled pants and underpants, turning pink and then red as the unforgiving hairbrush smacked down again and again and again. As always, Dad showed no compassion as he spanked; seeing to it that every inch of squirming, huddling behind received many, many visits from the punishing hairbrush. Mom was kicking and crying and lunging and writhing as he calmly, coldly taught her the meaning of punishment and discipline in his household. On and on he proceeded, scolding and spanking and lighting Mom’s behind on fire; correcting her and taking her to task for having displeased him.

In Need of Discipline, by Uncle George (May 8, 2015)

I ignored her pleadings and protestations and got on with the job of administering what I thought was a reasonable spanking. I covered every inch of Bonnie's behind and before twenty slaps had landed, Bonnie was no longer protesting. She remained quietly over my knee, accepting whatever punishment came her way. She didn't make any attempt to cover her behind, even though her right hand was free to try if she wanted. After about thirty slaps or so, she was involuntarily clenching her bottom cheeks with each spank, and even kicking her legs occassionally. I continued to rain the spanks down on the girl's blue-jean-covered bottom and after about forty-five slaps, Bonnie looked back over her left shoulder at me. "How many...(spank)... am I getting... (spank) OUCH! ... Jason?" she asked.

Assistant Means Assistant, by Millicent's Friend (May 8, 2015)

Dear Diary, if I was blushing from embarrassment over my carelessness, I turned positively crimson at this point. I knew full well how Headmaster Smith had punished miscreants in his school, and, if the truth be known, I had felt similar punishment more than once in my own school years. But I was too old to be treated that way.

"Milicent, I see that you are blushing deeply. As I said, you may well wish to end your employment at the library rather than accept my terms. However, if you wish to stay at the library, you must accept them. I believe you know what I mean by punish you like a schoolgirl?"

Denise Learns Her Lesson, by Don Barton (May 4, 2015)

And with her confidence somewhat shaken, Denise had only her desperate need of passing the test to help guide her through her dishonest deed. And with a final push of resolve - and an unfortunate lack of honesty - she took her captivating, cold-blue eyes off her test and looked up to see what Mr. Mitchell was doing. And smiling happily, she saw that he was reading a magazine. She then panned the classroom, and she saw that all of her classmates were paying attention to their test. And with that, she slowly leaned her body slightly to the right - quickly feeling her femininely curved, right bottom cheek press into her chair as she shifted her weight to the right - and cocked her head to the right, directly toward the test paper on Karen Caldwell's desk, then she brushed her light-brown hair out of the way, directed her eyes at Karen's test paper and cautiously began to copy the girl's answers.

Private Detective, by Jay Ellis (May 4, 2015)

Toni cuddled up even closer and Tom's ear. "Do that again and I'II you like me and I do right place and it is this time bit hard on wallop your bottom for you."

She smiled, got off his lap, and waltzed around the room, got behind him and bit him on the other ear. "That does it," he said angrily, grabbing her, pulling her to him and across his lap as she sprawled there helplessly. She tried to resist, but he was too strong for her. It didn't take long to bare her rear. She frantically attempted to escape but all of a sudden the slap came down and she squealed in surprised anger and pain.

Brenda's Desperate Need, by Don Barton(May 1, 2015)

"Well, umm, yes sir," Brenda answered. "See, I know I'm supposed to be behave. It's just that I don't seem to be able to behave, and I think the reason is because I haven't been spanked for a long time. Years ago, when my parents were still giving me spankings, it was like the spanking gave me the power to behave, or at least made me regret misbehaving. But because I haven't been spanked since I was thirteen, I've really changed a lot. And, well, I don't really like who I've become," Brenda told her teacher. "And it's not just that, but I need to feel the security that comes with a spanking... how it showed me that my parents loved me. But since my last spanking was so long ago I guess it makes me wonder if they still love me," she said.

"Well, I can understand how that might bother you, Brenda," Mr. Johnson said, "but I'm sure your parents love you. Like some parents, they've probably just gotten the idea that there's supposed to be some sort of age-limit with spanking, that's all," he told her.

Assistant Means Assistant, by Victoria (May 1, 2015)

Abby smiled at the striped bottom that squirmed under her gaze. Richard was being gotten to this way. She had read some kind of kinky magazine that she had found in a movie seat the week before and it had seemed a very good idea for a way to handle Richard. She thought that it just might get his attention. She had been concerned with ever doing anything with him. The other two managers who had tried to help him had told her that she was wasting her time. However, Abby always liked a challenge but she always wanted to win. She wasn't going to allow Richard to fail. No matter how many times she had to whip his ass.

Bob's Your Uncle, Part II, by Alan O. (April 27, 2015)

"Let me tell you what I think," Bob spoke in a low level tone now, making Melissa stifle her crying somewhat so she could hear him. "I think that you read my ad and have been wondering about it, maybe doing a certain amount of fantasizing about it, since then. And last night you allowed yourself, maybe almost unconsciously, to get out of control to the point that when you had gotten yourself well and truly into trouble, you called me hoping I'd supply the discipline you so obviously lack on your own. "Which," he went on, as the girl raised her head and looked over at him, "is something I'm entirely prepared to do, because it's obvious to me that you need it. No well brought up young lady would have allowed herself to behave as you did last night and as you said when you called, you've been real bad.

Spanking the Boss, by Taylor Moore (April 27, 2015)

He growled and chewed on one breast, then slapped his hand down on her ass. She cried out, and seemed to move even more feverishly. Again his hand slapped down on her behind. Again she cried out.

He spanked faster and harder, and she kept riding desperately, panting for breath as she bounced atop him. She shuddered then, arching her back, her small breasts thrusting out tautly as her pussy spasmed around his cock. Her eyes closed and she warbled a long, low moan of ecstasy, grinding her behind against his thighs.

Bob's Your Uncle, Part I, by Alan O. (April 24, 2015)

"You know Daddy'll say I deserve a spanking, even though I'm not a little girl anymore, I'm...twenty two," Melissa caught his eye as she faltered a little over this.

Bob almost chuckled at the obvious lie. She might have had identification that made it possible for her to go into a bar and drink herself into this state, but she was no twenty two. Hell, she was the most obvious piece of jailbait he'd had the misfortune to encounter since he couldn't remember when (and he was willing to bet the officers knew it too, but they would be content to see her taken in charge of a responsible citizen they assumed was her uncle). Dammit, what was he getting himself in for? He asked again, before saying, "And you know good and well you'd get a spanking from your dad, don't you? The trouble is, he's not here. I am. And I think it's time I took my responsibilities as your uncle a bit more seriously."

Bottoms Up, a Cowgirl Fantasy, by A.L. Purvis (April 24, 2015)

When Dot whacked her rump with the flat side of a metal yard stick, it cracked like a rifle shot and Nancy bellowed and bucked the table about two feet. "You can't take things that don't belong to you," Dot lectured. Nancy shook and blubbered and the tears dripping off her chin made a puddle on the table. Dot whacked her five more times and admonished her between each whack. Nancy bucked the table all over the back of the store. It was all Karen and I could do to hold her down. She bawled like a branded calf each time the yard stick cracked across her ass. When we let her up, Nancy danced around the store howling like a bitch wolf in heat and rubbing her hips with both hands. I was thinking that if Nancy got caught shop lifting back East a whole army of do_gooders would work on her case for a couple of years and in the end they would have less effect on her future behavior than little Dot did with six strokes of the yard stick. When Nancy stopped waving her bare breasts all around the room, she got back into her baggy old house dress and ran out of the store a changed woman.

Blushing Bride, by Juliette (April 20, 2015)

Soon she was moaning and thrusting slightly against him. It was never like this when her father had spanked her. Sure he was aware of her wetness, she moaned again.

Mark paused for a moment and rested his hand on Taylor’s bare, red bottom. His breathing came in short, shallow gasps. If she kept moving against him like that he would surely lose it. He ran his hand seductively around her skin, slipping his fingers down between her cheeks. He could hear her breathing hard.

“Taylor,” he began as he continued to caress her bare skin. “The spanking would normally be over now. But this one is not. There are two reasons why I’m going to continue. The first is that you disobeyed me when I asked you to come here. I had to get up from the chair to pull you over my lap. I expect in the future you will move when I tell you to.” She nodded, lost in the sensations he had, and was, creating in her bottom.

The Board of Education, by A.B. (April 20, 2015)

“No, I suppose it isn't `rocket science.' But the fact remains that Miss MacNeill knew what she was supposed to be doing and you apparently didn't.'' From the look on Linda's face, she was about to protest indignantly but suddenly thought better of it. ``Not that she succeeded in doing it,'' the principal went on, sinking Fiona's suddenly rising hope of getting off. ``You were both responsible for preventing anyone in a drugged or drunken condition from being admitted to the dance, as were those two wretched students at the door. All four of you have failed in your responsibilities, and you will all have to answer for it. I will speak to you two young women in my office at five o'clock Monday afternoon. Is that clear?''

Angie, Sandy and the Shrink, by Jack Kennedy (April 17, 2015)

The last spanking I got wasn't from my father. It was from Bob about a year ago. Bob's parents were 'shopping and we were using his pool. I had just picked up this bathing suit which is real cute, but slightly smaller than the twenty dollar bill I paid for it. It must have given Bob ideas because he started chasing me around the pool. He almost got me when he pulled me over his lap on the diving board, but I wiggled loose and jumped in the water. As I jumped I felt his hand grab for me and the next thing I knew, I was halfway up the pool and Bob was holding on to the lower half of my bathing suit. He jumped in after me but I reached the other end, and I ran into the den, locking the sliding glass door behind me. I admit I started making faces at him through the glass and I was jumping up and down taunting him. I, guess • he took it as a challenge to his manhood and rose to the occasion...at least part of him did.

A Birthday Spanking, by Alan O. (April 17, 2015)

As the minutes passed, the young woman became increasingly nervous. Absentmindedly, she toyed with the hem of her dress; her belt; her wrist watch - this last a painful reminder, being last year's birthday gift from her mother and father. She became increasingly upset with herself. Several times she slapped her right hand to her forehead and shook her head as if to say, "Oh, no... What did I do!?" Her behavior had been disgraceful, even scandalous; and there was simply no excuse for it. How could her parents ever forgive her? How could she ever forgive herself!? She remembered how disappointed her mother had sounded when she had first called to cancel her visit. But it was the mother who tried to make the daughter feel better. "Don't worry, sweetheart," she had said, "your work comes first. There is absolutely no reason for you to feel guilty about this." From that moment Peggy felt like a cruel ingrate, and now she had to live with the lie that would not go away.

For Whom the Bell Tolls, by Barbie (April 13, 2015)

Sometimes walking up to a spanking was like meeting the end. This was one of those times. Trepidation. Consternation. Anxiety. All those feelings were chasing about in her stomach. Her body was at war. Fearful, frightful imaginings about being spanked were flooding her depths at the same time her mind was floating free and soaring into the high heavens of sensuality. There was a reverence and awe--wonder about the fires of life that a spanking produced in her being. The spanking brought her closer and closer to the life she wanted. It gave her glimpses into her soul. Real and unreal met. Unencumbered freedom and license. There were no words.

The Advantages of Being Rich, Part Two, by B.C. & Wife (April 13, 2015)

He sat on the chair. "You will promise anything to save your ass from the whipping that you so richly deserve," he told her, as he took hold of her arm and put her back over his knee. "But you aren't getting out of this whipping. You have needed this for a long time and this afternoon it's time that you finally get what you have coming. I'm going to cover your whole cute ass with very hot welts. You are going to be standing up for a long time, you damn brat." He raised the switch and bent his wrist back as far as it would reach. As he brought it down on that fine round ass he flicked his wrist forward just at the end of the stroke. The flexible switch wrapped around her round ass and drew a thin white line across the bright red surface. The brat screamed and kicked. As the first welt turned dark red and swelled up he lay the next right along side of it. She screamed.

The Bandit, by Amie (April 10, 2015)

"Nothing doing, Emily. You need a firm hand and somebody to be strict with you to keep you line. If you had someone to keep tabs on you before, you wouldn't have wreaked havoc with our beepers all spring." And with that the first smack landed, followed quickly by another, then another. Soon his hand was spanking me briskly. I was squealing, kicking and pleading but my cries were all wasted. I could feel his determination in every spank. He continued his scolding at intervals but all I could really focus on was the heat in my bottom. "Are you learning anything? Do you think you'll ever beep me or anyone else again?"

The Advantages of Being Rich, Part One, by B.C. & Wife (April 10, 2015)

She soon found that spankings came in all sizes in his house. If he was the slightest unsatisfied with her, he would take up her skirt and give her one very hard slap across her panties while she was standing up. This was by far the most common kind of ass-slapping done by him. She was not the only one who was subject to this form of discipline. In fact, all his servants were women and all were spanked when they displeased him.

Ava Learns to Spell...Definitely, by Papa (April 6, 2015)

My scolding is finally complete. UT...Oh... he is reaching for the paddle. The fact that it was purchased especially for me does not impress me at all. Funny, he thought it would, but the honor is definitely lost on me. The heft is quite evident even from its resting place...on top of my buttocks. I expected he has placed it there for the very purpose of letting me know how efficient an implement it is.

The sudden lifting of its weight signals his intention to begin in earnest. A peak over my shoulder confirms it, the red rubber monster is raised over my extremely vulnerable hindquarters, preparing to strike.

Uncle Arnold, Part Three, The House Call, by Al Purvis (April 6, 2015)

Amelia swallowed enough of her own grief to sympathize with her mother, whom she hated seeing suffer. Amelia ached along with Janet; she know exactly how much that damned plastic brush hurt. She wished Arnold had spanked her mother first. This way Amelia felt she was getting it twice.

When Arnold had thoroughly smitten Janet hip and thigh, and her backside was the same blazing crimson as Amelia's, he helped her up. She mimicked Amelia in every detail. The towel she had had on her head lay in the tub with Amelia's former turban. Her long damp hair hung in front of her face, being blow-dried by her bawling breaths, and her body towel now hung from her wrists across the small of her back. She made no effort to cover her full frontal nudity as she gyrated slowly and gingerly rubbed her red rump. Amelia finally took one hand away from her own sizzling seat and turned her mother, and herself, away from Arnold.

Facing the mirror, Amelia noticed Arnold was looking at their naked bottoms. Amelia also noticed that one of the cotton balls was stuck to the mirror.

Ava Gets a Licking, by Ida (April 3, 2015)

He waited until she had regained a measure of control before speaking. "As I didn't warn you beforehand I am going to overlook this breech of procedures. I am being generous, Ava,you know perfectly well that leaving a prescribed position negates the spank. If you leave the position again the stroke won't count. Ava, pick up the pillow and return to where you belong and get yourself back over that stool."

Uncle Arnold, Part Two, The House Mate, by Al Purvis (April 3, 2015)

Since that humiliating hairbrush day, the only mention of someone getting a spanking was at Amelia's nineteenth birthday party. Arnold and Janet stopped by the family room on their way to dinner and found Amelia and her friends having a good time. Janet asked, "So who is going to spank the birthday girl?" "Mo-ther," Amelia gasped. Arnold interceded, "Come on Janet, Amelia's much too old for a spanking." Amelia energetically agreed. Janet decided not to disagree when she felt Arnold's powerful hand grip her upper arm and she remembered her own birthday was coming up in less than a month. Arnold had already demonstrated that what's sauce for the gosling is sauce for the goose.

Uncle Arnold, Part One, The House Guest, by Al Purvis (March 30, 2015)

Then, on a Saturday, things took a turn for the worse. Arnold returned from a shopping trip, parked the car at the curb, and heard his hostesses berating at each other as soon as he got out of the car. He couldn't make out what they were yelling about, but he heard "BY GOD" several times and knew that voice must be Janet's. The other voice, obviously Amelia's, was punctuated with the word "BITCH!" He followed the shouting to the master bedroom and as he approached the open bedroom door he heard Amelia shriek: "you stupid BITCH!" "That's it," Janet announced in reply. When Arnold reached the door Amelia's tone had changed abruptly and the scene stopped him in his tracks. Janet was sitting on the bed with Amelia over her lap and was tugging down her daughter's shorts and panties.

Authority, by A.B. (March 30, 2015)

Inman nodded. “Then come around here to my right, please, and kneel here.” She hesitated. “Now!” he added sharply. She stepped forward, looking startled but slightly confused. Inman took her wrist gently and guided her until she knelt upright on the sofa cushion to his right, facing him. “All right. Now take down your tights and underpants.” Blushing fiercely, she fumbled under her skirt. “All the way down, to your knees or thereabouts,” he added. Finally she withdrew her hands and let them fall nervously at her sides. “Good. Lie forward, across my knee.” She wouldn’t plead, though her look told him how badly she wanted to. They were always like this when the crisis came. The rollercoaster got to the top of the height, and suddenly they’d give anything to be somewhere else. But the spanking, at this point, was as inevitable as the roaring, dizzying, stomach-churning descent of the rollercoaster.

Jessica 2: Tiffany, by C. Flint (March 27, 2015)

I felt as foolish sitting in Dr. Lewis' office listening to the MRI report confirming the diagnosis of a torn rotator cuff as I had two days before when I felt my feet slip out from under me on the wet pavement. As visions of surgery danced in my head, I protectively put my left hand on the bicep of my right arm as it hung painfully at my side.

The doctor soothed my fears telling me that, with traumatic injuries, physical therapy was tried first. He made a telephone call and handed me a manila folder and directed me to another doctor. The sign on her door read "West Side Rehabilitation Center," and, in smaller letter, "Jessica Moyer, M.D."

Angie & Kyle, by C. Dyane (March 27, 2015)

Kyle Donovan headed toward his office. He wondered if Ms Corman was waiting for him. He grimaced in anger. He knew that the test he had given that afternoon hadn’t been that hard and yet he had seen Ms Corman looking at her neighbor’s test and copying the answers. He had even compared the two papers after class. They both had the same answers, both right and wrong. He knew who was at fault. He had seen the other student, Mr. Stevens, give Ms Corman a dirty look when he noticed her looking at his test paper. Kyle had no intention of punishing the innocent, just the guilty.

Jessica: Amber, by C. Flint (March 20, 2015)

Amber sprawled helpless in that embarrassing position. Her arms were fastened behind her back and her spread legs hung limp, the toes of her high-heeled shoes several inches from the floor. Amber's bare mound was pressed hard against my legs. I could feel a wet smear from her juices seep through my bluejeans.

Unsure of what to do I stared down at Amber's naked backside laying submissively over my lap. I looked down at her taut backside and the bright red letters emblazoned across the flesh. It was both an invitation and an instruction; it was almost a demand. Even spread over my lap her bottom seemed small. The white globes were round and hard with a wide crevice between them emphasized by the way her legs were spread. There was a dark ravine between her buttocks that displayed the brown circle of her anus and the shaven lips of her vagina. The flesh was smooth and white as though it had been polished for the occasion; it was not even disfigured by goosebumps. I held Amber in place and looked up at Kenny.

Angie & Trisha, by C. Dyane (March 20, 2015)

Trisha explained about their spanking games and how it turned them both on. The lady looked thoughtful as she called her partner to bring Alex back into the apartment. Trisha immediately went over to Alex, who put his arm around her shoulders and asked her if she was ok. Trisha put her arm around his waist and said she was fine. She looked up at him and said that she had deserved it.

They assured the officers that there was not going to be any more yelling that night and all was well. The officers left, saying that if Trisha changed her mind, she could still press charges.

A New Kind of Adult Ed, by Alexia (March 16, 2015)

Her dorm mates, all nine of them, were present, and her instructor Denny was making no attempt to keep his words private. When he first came in and strode down the line of cots with determination in his eyes, Sandy stood up in deference to him. So did the others, but he had only her in mind and soon enough the other girls returned to what they were doing. But all ears were on him as he verbally chastised her, by calling her a spoiled and willful little girl in need of some good, old-fashioned, discipline to teach her to mind her manners. Sandy was aghast that he spoke to her that way in front of the others. After all, she was their acknowledged leader and had some dignity to maintain, even if she did grant him the right to point out her shortcomings in private, Yes, she did refuse some direct orders from certain instructors, and she was slow in obeying others, and she knew full well that her arrogance had gotten out of hand on more than one occasion, but he had brought these matters up calmly, and in private she would have done her best to correct herself. After all, hadn't she done so on other occasions in the past week?

The Agreement, by Uncle George (March 16, 2015)

When a person takes the big step and decides to get married, there are understandable problems and worries. The biggest of these is that he/she may be making one of the worst mistakes that a person can make in this lifetime. You see, for me, the act of getting married is to commit yourself to seeing it through, regardless of what comes, for the rest of your life. Those people who wind up in divorce courts can't take the trials and tribulations that marriage almost guarantees. These people don't take their vows seriously, and have an inner weakness that permits them to quit rather than accept the challenges that go along with living with another person. This is, and always shall be, my philosophy about my marriage.

Alexia's Guardian, by Alexia (March 13, 2015)

It took five more minutes of patience for her to answer my question. "Please sir, I need to be spanked on my bare bottom. Would you take me over your knee and wallop me with a ruler for as long as you think necessary? I've been a bitch and need a licking."

Finally I nodded and said yes, I would indeed give her the tanning she asked for and richly earned. "Go to that corner and stand there facing the wall."

She obeyed me meekly, and at my command held up her dress around her waist. I told her to stay put, then left and went upstairs to Alexia, who hugged me fiercely and asked no questions.
"Alexia," I warned gently, quite certain that she would be obedient in this matter, "What is going to happen downstairs is between that woman and me, and I don't want to find out that it's been mentioned outside of this house. Do you understand?"

Allison, by C. Flint (March 13, 2015)

Careful that she was not feigning once more I let her stand erect. Alison assumed the position she always took at this point. She dropped her head as if to demonstrate her sincerity and clasped her hands behind her back so that I could deal with her pants without worrying about her nails. I unfastened her slacks and let them fall to her ankles thankful that I did not have to tug down the skin tight jeans she sometimes wore. Her black lace panties followed almost immediately. I admired my wife's slim body for a moment before I gently bent her over my knee again. Her buns were pi foot to foot her legs pumping each time the switch landed on her tender rear and thighs. As the stripes started to accumulate her gyrations became wilder and wilder. Her legs pumped high as she jumped around. Her free hand gesticulated wildly as she attempted to anticipate where the next blow would fall and protect that spot. She was not successful.

Careless Betty, by Alan (March 9, 2015)

Betty hardly had time to respond. For right after concluding his little speech her father took hold of her arm with one hand, placed his other arm around her shoulder, and in an instant she was being pulled down across his lap. Whatever resistance she put up was merely reflexive and without effect. “Daddy,” she gasped as she suddenly found herself on her dad’s knee. “Daddy, please!”

“Now never mind that, young lady,” scolded her father. “You’ve earned this,” he said as he pulled up her skirt to expose sheer, white panties and bare legs. “You’re going to get a good spanking over my knee.” Turning to his wife he said, “Harriet, please go to the kitchen and get one of your mixing spoons. The wooden ones. You know which ones?”

“Yes, dear,” said Harriet, nodding not only her assent, but also her approval for her husband’s wonderfully decisive action. “I know what you want.”

Big Girls Do Cry, by Barbie (March 9, 2015)

He clamped one leg over hers. She squirmed against him. She felt his hard. It seemed unfair to her that he should get excited about making her cry. Yet, for a second, it was a comfort too to know that in a few hours they would probably make-up in a time honored way. It would be incredibly exciting. It always was. However, first she had to take this spanking. A hard, long spanking that would make her cry and lose every bit of her dignity. For this split second she knew that hate and love were very close to each other. She hated Andy. She hated herself for making this necessary.

Curses! Foiled Again! by Caroline (March 6, 2015)

"Damn him to hell!" she shouted, loud enough for Mr. Fogarty to hear. "Yeah, he paddled me before, and the last time he paddled me, I got ten swats. And you know what?" she continued, her old cockiness and bravado restored, "I don't care what the Old Fart said... it didn't hurt a bit!" She wheeled around to face them all, and when she saw Mr. Fogarty, she had a defiant gleam in her eye.

"It didn't hurt? How did it feel?" asked Danny.
"Better than kissing you, honey..." And she leaned over to kiss Danny Witherspoon right on the lips. She glared at Mr. Fogarty again and ran away. She hated them all!

Corvette, by ZZ (March 6, 2015)

It was a warm Saturday afternoon in October and there wasn't much to do. Sally was idly flipping through the channels on the tv but there wasn't much on that was of interest to her so she wandered out to the back porch. She noticed the door to the garage was open.

Inside was the 1979 Corvette that her father was restoring. He had spent the last several months working on it. He just had it repainted and had a new convertible top installed. It was pretty much finished now. 17 year old Sally was fascinated with the car but her father had told her to stay away from it. It was his pride and joy and he didn't want anyone else touching it.

The Cousins, by Alan (March 2, 2015)

And this would be a lesson that Elizabeth Ann wouldn’t forget either. When her father shooed her away, she bounded down the stairway, but only part of the way when she stopped and stood where she could still see up into the hallway. She could hear her mother and her aunt Betty in the kitchen and hoped nobody would see her. She saw her dad disappear into the master bedroom. A minute later she saw him emerge with the hairbrush in hand. “Ohh!” she gasped, and felt her tummy tighten. She knew what the hairbrush was for and that it was just about the worst thing to be spanked with. Not that she had ever had it used on her. Her mom and dad had given her plenty of spankings but had never used the hairbrush on her. Her older sister, Janie, already in college when Elizabeth Ann was only 5, used to get spanked with the hairbrush. Elizabeth Ann was never allowed to watch, but Jane had told her once how bad it hurt. But even if she hadn’t, she could tell from Jane’s frantic and loud screaming and crying just how terrible it was.

Crash and Burn, by Tess (March 2, 2015)

"The Italian Spitfire," murmured Jason, known by the rest of the crew these days as Jigs. He repeated Angelina's new name, one given to her by one of the mindless glory-hunting reporters who was constantly following the act around for interviews. Jigs felt that this new nickname would stick, for it was appropriate enough. He shook his head, tossing the slick magazine to the floor as he stood up. Time to get back to work.

As he made his way down the dim hallway to the stage to check on the progress of the stage crew, he smiled a bit grimly to himself. Wasn't there an airplane called the Spitfire? The word didn't always apply only to sultry beauties of Italian descent, with their flashing eyes and haughtily-tossing mane of black hair. Jigs envisioned a sleek warlike airplane swooping in for a kill (much as Angelina might descend on yet another opportunistic stage hand)---then he enjoyed a fantasy of the airplane falling from the sky to disintegrate on the ground, a molten wreck of fiery shrapnel.

Carrie Got Spanked, Part 2, by Ed Finn (February 27, 2015)

Morning came early for Carrie. Virtually sleepless, she was on edge. Who can blame her? Knowing several days ahead that you're getting a spanking must weigh heavily.

I've never really experienced that. With my folks, it was more like, "I warned you, young lady! You're getting spanked - right now!" Into my parents' bedroom we'd march, pants down, bottom up. Smack! "Ouch!" Smack! "Ouch!" Smack! Smack! "Oww! Ouch!" Smacksmacksmacksmacksmack! "Owwwwwwweeeeee! And so on until...cry, cry, cry and promises to be oh so good. Don't misunderstand, they were good, hard spankings. My folks, especially my dad, are experts at corporally wringing every last vestige of ego and pride from their daughters, whether by hand, hairbrush, or the dreaded razor strap. Maybe sometime I'll write some of my childhood and teenage reminiscences for you. For some reason, I have amazing recall where spanking is involved.

Cassie Lee's New Attitude, by Cassandra (February 27, 2015)

"Yes, baby, all over again. You're going to pull your panties back up, and your skirt back down. You're going to go back out to the table and finish your supper. Then we're going to do the dishes and put the leftovers away, watch Jeopardy, watch the news, neck, make love, whatever. Do what we do. But just before bed," His voice was matter-of-fact and even, low against my ear as He moved in to press His hardening cock against my still-stinging ass. His hands moved up to cup my breasts, and as He kneaded them gently, I could feel myself beginning to get wet.

"I'm going to tell you it's time to get ready for bed. You're going to go to your room, and do what you do to get ready for a spanking. Go to your corner, make that ass naked, and wait for me. Are we clear so far?"

Carrie Got Spanked, Part 1, by Ed Finn (February 23, 2015)

Here was my first chance to actually help Carrie. I could have said, "Oh, not really. I think spanking is more for the spanker's benefit. You know, to make him feel like he's doing something. It stings, but only for a little while, then I'm back to normal. Basically a waste of time, I'd say." Granted, a specious argument, one I'd tried on my parents, to no avail. They knew better, so did I, and so did Carrie's father. He was simply looking for a little affirmation of his disciplinary policy. I gave it to him.

Centerfold Stories, by C.J. West (February 23, 2015)

Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Ernie spanked Barbara's bare bottom until it was cherry red. His hand fell harder and more often on her backside than it had on her daughter's. And she was crying even harder than the teenager when she was lifted to her feet. "You two are a disgrace," he scolded. Barbara was almost bouncing around the room, shifting her weight from foot to foot while rubbing her butt with both hands. Elizabeth was also caressing her sore rear end.

Chastised Cheerleaders, by Maggie Amberson (February 20, 2015)

"Yee -- Ouch! Oh! Stop it! Please, I --" My free hand flew impulsively to my backside to protect myself from the onslaught. Of course Berkeley just joined it to my other hand, and held them both down with one powerful grip. He squeezed his legs tighter around mine, adjusting me more securely for the punishment. I stared at the floor, and as much as I struggled, I could barely budge an inch, and my bottom was now completely defenseless. I had never been so humiliated in all my life! I was trembling with rage, but I was also red in the face from the worst embarrassment I'd ever known.

 

Charlie Keeps the Upper Hand, by C.J. West (February 20, 2015)

When her dad was the spanker she was bent forward over the back of a chair or if it was in her room, over the bed. He would flip up her skirt or pull down her jeans. But her panties remained in place. Then he would take his belt, folded in quarters, and give her fifteen to twenty lashes across the bottom.

The one exception was the last spanking she got. The family was on vacation and Sabrina had broken her curfew, coming in nearly two hours late. To make things worse, it was not the first time. The following morning her mother scolded her and told her to get to her room. Sabrina resisted. They got into an argument. Unfortunately for the misbehaving teenager, her father was close enough to hear the entire thing.

All Rise, by Paula (February 16, 2015)

John smoothed her hair and shushed her as if she were a toddler. "Honey, listen to me. The judge and I have talked this out long and hard. Nothing else has worked. You KNOW I have tried to talk to you several times these past weeks, you won't listen." Without thinking, Susan's lower lip began to protrude. John glanced at the judge, who nodded. "Susan, you ARE acting like a defiant kid...won't listen, won't accept the judgments of those who are in a better position that you are right now to see what you are doing---or NOT doing, as the case may be. The judge has convinced me that this is the best method of dealing with this little character flaw of yours." He had maneuvered her to the end of the table, and had his hand on her skirt covered backside. "And as long as we are into disclosure, there is something else you ought to know, darling." She looked up at him, her eyes starting to fill with tears of rage, frustration, and fear. "The judge is giving me the strap...as a wedding present."

Amanda, by Ida (February 16, 2015)

The bombardment of her bottom had to be causing her some discomfort but Amanda's moans seemed to contain more pleasure than pain and the wriggling around she did seemed to indicate she was enjoying her spanking a bit more than he intended her to; David decided it was time to escalate the proceedings. He administered a particularly stiff whack to the soft globes. "OUCH, that one really hurt David." "Good, now will you take off your clothes?" Meekly she replied "Yes" and climbed off his lap pausing to rub her bottom a bit before disrobing. Just as she reached for the dress zipper he stopped her, "Wait, I'll do the dress but you take everything else off except the panties, leave those to me." He pulled her to him, pressed his lips to hers in a moist kiss, his hands slid down her body and up again to the back zipper, slowly, tantalizingly, the zipper slipped down. Amanda felt a surge of passionate excitement rush through her. The dress slithered off, David caressed her body, kneading the buttocks through the silky satin panties.

Spanking 101, by Taylor Moore (February 13, 2015)

His hand was spanking her hard, and she was yelping and jerking in response, but both of them knew there was more to this than a spanking. She didn't think he knew she knew though, or at least, she was sure he WASN'T sure.

She did the same trick she had the other night, throwing her right leg wide off his knee while twisting to one side. As before, he caught her, and the feel of his big rough hand cupping her pussy through the thin cotton, his end fingers pressing right up against the soft skin of her inner thighs, made heat gush through her

Unconscionable Acts, by Barbie (February 13, 2015)

"Nooooo... I'm doing it," Barbie took her time loosening the snap on the waistband of the shorts. It was always embarrassing to take her jeans or shorts off. Always. She hated to stand there in her panties and be scolded before the real punishment. However, this time it was much, much worse. She knew that she wasn't wearing any panties. She had a feeling that Uncle Grant wasn't going to be happy about that little fact. As usual he wouldn't understand that she didn't want the panties to stick out at the bottom of the shorts. She needed some new high cut panties and hadn't gotten them yet. At the moment she wished she had taken the time to get a pair. But who would have thought that Uncle Grant would ever find out what she was doing on a Friday afternoon all the way across town from him. He always seemed to work late on Fridays.

Beware, Angels, by Barbie (February 9, 2015)

"And now, young lady, over my knee," Steve said and watched her crawl over his knee on her own accord. She settled and he placed the paddle down across her cheeks. She squirmed. He rubbed the paddle over her bottom. Then he lifted it and swung. Annie cried out and kicked her legs. He took hold of her waist and held her tightly. She tried to roll from side to side as the paddle went from the base of her cheeks to the top of the curve and back down again. He gave her twenty, good, hard smacks before he stopped to scold. She was gasping and kicking and even crying.

Angela & the Professor, by Alexia (February 9, 2015)

"I'm very disappointed with your work this semester, Angela. You are capable of far better grades if only you'd apply yourself. There is a guest room upstairs, where you could stay while you rewrote the term papers and studied for your exams. I would be pleased to tutor you as necessary, and provide assistance with the work -- if you would like such help. If you stay, you will work harder than you've ever worked before. I'll make sure of it.

"But before you decide, there is the matter of your abominable grades, -- and cheating.” He took the hairbrush in hand and sat down. "Come here, Angela.”

Ara's Room, by Alexia (February 6, 2015)

Her tone of voice left no room for doubt in his mind nor negotiation on her part. He took the strap from her hands and set it beside him. Sylvia had edged away to the far end of the couch, and the loose circle of people pressed back to make room. Garrett grasped the trembling woman by her upper arms and encouraged her none-too-gently across his lap. She let out a soft, mewling whine of distress as the folds of her voluminous dress were gathered up at her waist and her panties were lowered, revealing soft white mounds that tensed and trembled with anticipation. The crowd murmured appreciatively.

Annabelle: The Caning, by A.G. Geiger (February 6, 2015)

In contrast to his usual procedure in carrying out a punishment, the boson didn't pick up the punishment cane immediately. Rather, after limbering up, he walked over to the figure of the bound girl and leaned in close, running a hand over the contours of her bare backside, raising the pathetic strip of her tunic higher so that the full buttocks were uncovered, getting a feel for the rump's present resiliency and texture--and a feel for other things as well--as the girl whimpered. This was, after all, a girl he was caning, which was different from a boy or one of those cadets, and offered some pleasures. Mustn't look a gift horse in the . . . mouth, he though, with a chuckle.

Satisfied with his original estimation of the girl's physical stamina, he stepped away. Bates picked up the cane, a finely made one--his favorite--three-eighths of an inch thick and 36 inches of limber rattan, with a final three inches hardened in fire. Bending it twice till it was nearly doubled, he swept it sharply through the air, once up and down and once from left to right, making a cutting sound like a sword through fabric and causing the girl to cringe in her bonds. Suddenly, all eyes were on the stick and its voluptuous target.

Cute, Charming & Adorable, by Caroline (February 2, 2015)

He shifted her around in his lap to a more comfortable position, and as he did this, Anabelle watched him. "He really is a darling man" she thought, "I like him." She didn't want to irritate him further, for her bottom was still smarting, so she tried a different tack. "Adam" she began gently, "it's nice of you to care about me the way you do. I like it, actually. But really, it's so silly of you to try to discipline me. I'm not a five-year-old. Let's be realistic, okay? I could say Yes, sir' or No sir' and behave the way you'd like me to when you're around, but that doesn't mean I'll change when I haven't got a you'll excuse the expression, watchdog around me. I'm a grownup. I know, I know, "she said putting her hand on his chest to still his argument" Sometimes I misbehave, and sometimes I 'm a brat, but I don't mean any harm to anyone."

Cynthia Comes Home, by Uncle George (February 2, 2015)

Cynthia didn't say anything, but silently walked down the five steps to the lower of the split level, and made use of the washroom. Her tummy growled, emptily, as she washed her tear-stained face, and tried without success to bring some semblence of order to her hair. She looked at her face over the mirror, and was ashamed at her reflection. Ashamed of what that person had done to two people who loved her, protected her, and cared for her. Two people who meant far more to her than she had ever realized or dared to admit, even to herself. She silently cursed her reflection for being so uncaring and unfeeling, and promised to do whatever she had to in order to re-establish a relationship with her parents. The sound of the front door opening, and the muted tones of her mom's voice, announced that her dad was home. Cynthia looked again in the mirror, afraid that her dad would turn his back on her, and leave her alone. She couldn't even face the possibility, and stayed in the washroom, rather than look him directly in the face. She didn't feel worthy of that yet. Here she could feel safe and secure, at least for the present, until reality came literally knocking at the door.

It Doesn't Pay to Cheat, by The Sergeant (January 30, 2015)

It all fell apart for both girls when the teacher took their papers, wrote a large "F" on the front of each and said, in a low voice "I want to see both of you when the other students finish testing. Make sure that you are available." Tears glistened in both sets of eyes, but the girls knew better than not to obey and they went out on the recreation field, sitting at a small picnic table, to wait to find out what their fate would be.

Understanding Emma, by Caroline (January 30, 2015)

Gary was livid when he hung up the phone. Livid as he grabbed his jacket and rushed to the house. Livid, as he burst through the bedroom door to find his lovely Emma, resting, pale, and still shaky after the morning's ordeal, on the green damask chaise lounge. Livid, as he crossed the spacious room and then he stopped. She had been hurt, afte

Lucky Seven, by Alexia (January 26, 2015)

"You were warned the day before that I wouldn't tolerate disrespect or disobedience any longer..." He raised the paddle and felt the girl flinch in anticipation, "...and now I'm going to show you how serious I. am."

Without another word he began to spank the girl, closing his ears to the rising wails and complaints applying the paddle firmly to her round buttocks and thighs. She tried to protect herself, but each time she reached behind, John walloped a single spot on her thigh until she had both hands well away. It would be bruised, but it taught her a lesson, The rest of her fanny reddened with the paddling, ached and burned, an

Man & Wife, by A.B. (January 26, 2015)

Now that she was firmly fixed in this ancient, face-down nursery position, Fran gave up the struggle and lay quietly. "Please, please," she continued to croon softly, but it was the automatic pleading of a naughty child who knows shehas no real hope of escaping her punishment.

Jim took the hem of his wife's skirt, which was already around her thighs, and began to work it upwards. The dress fit too snugly to be simply swept or pulled up. In fact, as he got closer to the fullness of her bottom, Jim began to doubt that he would be able to get the skirt up without damaging it. But up it would go, on that he was determined. He stretched the material as far as he dared, and heard a seam start to let go.

"Wait!" cried Fran. "Don't rip it! It's a

Flying by the Seat of her Panties, by A.L. Purvis (January 23, 2015)

She balked. She opened her mouth to say something, but thought better of it. Her blush deepened. Finally, she lowered her head, and then lowered her pants a little, to about where most plumbers wear their britches. She kept her head down as she shuffled over to my side and leaned over the landing zone. I eased her down over my knees and started to pull her stretch pants further down. "No!" she said. She reached back with her right hand to stop the decent of her waistband. I caught her right wrist and moved it to the middle of her lower back and held it there with my left hand. I pressed my left forearm down on her spine, so she couldn't get up. With her black pants at mid thigh, I was free to admire the seat of her sensible white panties, stretched as tight a the head on a kettle drum around her expansive rear end. The sound my hand would make on this drum would be much fleshier than the sound I make on the kettle drum I play in the orchestra, but I was sure it would make Jeannette want to march. I also knew she would soon provide vocal accompaniment, and no doubt a bit of high harmony before I was through with her.

Peeping Tom, by Don and Roda (January 23, 2015)

How does she constantly get herself into binds like this" I wondered what to do to leave an indelible impression on my brat, so I had her hike her skirt and stand in the corner while I considered. Resolving that whatever I did, it should include the aggrieved party, so I went down the three flights of stairs in my building, over to the next building, and up three flights. Penny was hostile at first, but when she understood that I wasn't there to defend my hot-headed wife, but to ask her opinions on a suitable punishment, she mellowed. She told me that she would be satisfied with a simple apology, but her husband was furious and her son, who had been questioned at his school, probably wanted a more strenuous retribution. When I told her that Maria was still subjected to corporal punishment she was dubious until we went into the boy's room, opened the curtains, and she saw Maria's panty-clad bottom as she stood in her corner. Now a believer, Penny fairly glowed with the prospect of punishing Maria, and came up with several ideas during our animated discussion. We agreed that any remedy should rightfully include the boy who, after all, had only done what any red-blooded boy would have done when presented with such a view. Heck, -I'd look myself! We came up with a plan that satisfied her need for retribution, but at the same time accommodated her limits on how much "education” her son was ready for and would be able to assimilate without emotional damage. We concluded with her promising to discuss our plan with her son and husband when they returned and, after obtaining the anticipated agreement, that she would call me with a "go” or "no- go” signal. "She'll never talk to me again” was Penny's parting comment, -but it was said with a giggle.

On the Job Training, by Dr. Ken (January 19, 2015)

Rita's bottom was literally bouncing under Mike's palm, and turning redder all the time. Rita began pleading for him to stop, and promising that she would pass the lesson. When her voice finally conveyed the right measure of sincerity, he stopped. She hung limply over his lap. He rubbed her backside for a few seconds, and then told her to get up. She slowly made it to her feet, wincing at the throbbing of her well-smacked bottom. She rubbed her behind for a moment or two, and then slowly and carefully pulled her panties and sweatpants up and into place

Painfully Sweet Memories, Part II, by A.G.A. (January 19, 2015)

Southgate smiled. “Good, this is good.” He walked around her and raised her skirt with the tip of the cane, looking at her bottom. “You are lazy, aren't you, Healey?”

“Yes, Sir,” she admitted weakly.

“Yeah, I know a lazy rump when I see one,” he said and let her skirt drop. “Raise your skirt, pull down your knickers and let everyone see how lazy it is.” Melissa Healey miserably did as she was told and Mr. Southgate tapped her bare bottom with his cane and said: “Each and every one of you! Take a good look because this is as lazy a rump as I’ve ever seen.” Then he walked in front of her, tipped her chin in his fingers and his eyes bore into hers.

“Been thrashed this year, Healey?”

Painfully Sweet Memories, Part I, by A.G.A. (January 16, 2015)

"You wouldn't dare!”

"I wouldn't, would I?" he'd said. He grabbed her by the arm, pulled her up, sat down in his chair and even though Cecilia was a big girl he could easily bend her over his knees where she hung like a fish out of water, arms flailing and legs kicking. Just as easily as he took her across his knees he held her in place and didn't pay any attention to her arms or legs.

There was just one part of her body he saw.

In her bent over position Cecilia's dress clung to that part as if its life depended on it and Sandgren contemplated the charming and inviting curves underneath. It was plain she wasn't wearing a girdle.

Paddle Burning, by Barbie (January 16, 2015)

Uncle Grant stood behind his desk and opened the phone book. He ran his fingers down the yellow pages and dialed. Barbie watched as he asked for a beautician to come to the house. He offered a lot of money for the service. As he placed the receiver back in the cradle, he said, "Mrs. Todd won't have to go around here with green hair or even be embarrassed to have to go out in the street, fortunately. But, I think you have a score to settle with her, don't you?"

Barbie nodded and crossed over to him. He pushed back the chair, and Barbie draped herself across his knees after handing him the paddle. As Uncle Grant reached for her skirt hem, BArbie's head came up.

Nasty Nancy, by Randy Slapp (January 12, 2015)

I was hyperventilating as I saw everyone watching Liz' performance. My mind reeled with fear of my three part torture to come. First I'd have my panties pulled down, then the extreme pain of the paddle, then I'd be the one bouncing around bottomless in front of my Auntie Cousin and Uncle!
After about a minute Liz calmed down enough to stand still her hands still clasped behind her. Mom asked her if she'd ever act up in church again, and she groaned "No, I promise, I promise!" Then Mom made her get the paddle from Dad and bring it to me. I took the wood and felt it heavy in my hand as Liz got sent to the corner, her underwear still pulled down, where she stood with her sorry-looking behind presented to us.

Mustang Sally, by Z.Z (January 12, 2015)

“But it stings!” Sally protested. Never the less she put her hands in front of her. She was frightened and did not want to anger her father further. The strap had made a white line across both buttocks when it landed but as blood rushed in the line was now turning a bright pink.
“CRACK!” The leather strap landed a second time making another line next to the first. Sally jerked her bottom and called out again but managed to keep her hands on the car hood.

Phone Manners Re-Learned, by Melissa (January 9, 2015)

I returned and meekly handed him the paddle. He sat on the bed and pulled me across his lap. Walt gave me no time to get comfortable (not that it would have been possible). He just started right in with the punishment. Stroke after stroke fell hard. I cried out as the paddle fell repeatedly in the same vicinity. As I struggled to get away, Walt got a firm hold on my waist and held me in place.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK

Party Time, by Annie (January 9, 2015)

Smack! "What about getting drunk?" Smack! "What about hanging all over half the guys at the party?" Smack! "What about telling your friend Pam that you wished you had never married me?" Smack! "What about causing a scene because you wanted to drive home?" Smack! "What about fighting with me all the way home AND after we got here?"

Smack! Smack! "I guess since all you did at the party was have a good time, then you can just stare at the floor for a time while I have a good time!" Smack! Smack!

I was really feeling each hard spank of Scott's hand. After everything he had just said, I had a sinking feeling that I wouldn't be getting up anytime soon. Just then he seemed to pick up the pace, with no more pauses for talking. Very quickly the heat in my ass felt like someone set me on fire! I was squealing, and wiggling as much as I could.

Sally's Stern Spouse, by M.S. (January 5, 2015)

And then, abruptly, it stopped. Mr. Cash, nearly breathless from his exertion, simply stopped the spanking as suddenly as he had begun. Still holding the hairbrush in his hand he released the girl to let her writhe and kick to her heart's content. And writhe and kick she did! Beside herself in burning agony, her hands shot back to try and rub some of the fire from the surface of her punished behind. Still kicking and bounding her hands furiously rubbed the burning nates as Mr. Cash, John and Sally looked on. A spanking as severe as this one took some time to recover from and so Cindy entertained the group with her bounding, and rubbing and sobbing for another several minutes. Her poor bottom was quite a sight to see. Reddened to a deep crimson, the upper summits presented a stark contrast to the whiteness of Cindy's legs and back. In some places one could make out the definite imprint of the hairbrush while in others the hairbrush had visited so many times as to make any one print invisible. The lower summits were an even angrier crimson, turning towards blue for this was where Mr. Cash had concentrated most of the stinging spanks. As Cindy writhed on her father's lap she showed another portion of white, that of the insides of her behind cheeks. Here the brush had not penetrated and this white stripe widened and narrowed with the arching and huddling of Cindy's bottom. The three spectators could easily see Cindy's most private portions when she arched but she cared not. The inferno of her behind was her only thought as she rubbed, kicked, writhed, bounded and sobbed in her desperate, but losing attempts to put out the fire.

Rob, by Alexia (January 5, 2015)

I scowled, but didn't stomp my foot. It was just my luck that Rob remembered that incident a year ago, when I was so engrossed in following an enormous blue-scrawled filefish that I got separated from the group and had to go to the surface and find my way back to the Bad Dog myself. Rob was furious, but Jess was cool and determined. He bent me over the starboard rail, peeled down my bikini briefs, and spanked me long and hard until I was howling with the sting of it and flailing like a fish out of water. After the spanking I had to go directly to Rob and apologize for my stupidity. If I wasn't already shamed enough to want to die, I then had to endure the dive-master's scathing lecture about safety, delivered in front of the rest of the group that had then arrived back on board. The crisp staccato of his voice echoed out across the water, and I imagined the whole resort knew of it.

Back to Normal, by Barbie (January 2, 2015)

Barbie got in that corner and stood there rubbing her bottom and sobbing. She felt very sorry for herself. First she had had a horrendous ride home. She had never been so frightened in her life. Actually, she had already taken a pledge to never get herself in that circumstance again--so the belt was really unnecessary. However, she didn't think Uncle Grant was in any mood to hear that at the moment. He was going to wear her out and that was all there was to it. She began to sob harder. She was scared. Her bottom felt terrible. She wondered how she ever stood to be spanked as often as she had been growing up. Was Uncle Grant spanking harder these days or was it that it had been so long between spankings" Did one grow used to having one's bottom bared and spanked" She didn't know how she would survive the belt. She began to shake as she thought about it.

A Necessary Return to Spanking, by Don Barton (January 2, 2015)

Debbie made every effort to take the sway out of her walk and be calm as she slowly walked up the stairs and down the hall to her room.

Entering her bedroom, Debbie plopped herself down on her bed - her bottom hitting the bed far softer than her bare bottom would be getting swatted very shortly - and waited - waited for her first bare-bottomed spanking - in fact, her first and only spanking since her last one a long three years ago.

Waiting on her bed, Debbie remembered how vicious the last spanking her father had given her had been (it had been one of the few times he'd ever used the razor strap on her), for yelling and swearing at her mother while her mother was scolding her for a bad report card, and over the years, she had been very thankful that it had been her last spanking. Her last one until now, that is.

Lay Over Spankings, by Al Purvis (December 29, 2014)

Two months passed without unpleasant incident. Then one Thursday morning Roger woke us all up himself for an urgent meeting in the parlor. Colleen and Erika scurried for some sort of clothing. "I have to go to the bathroom first," Bertie whined, but Roger herded her in her baby dolls right along with the rest of us, saying, "This won't take long." This was the second time we had seen him angry and we thought for sure we had overstayed our welcome this time. He sat us down on the sofa, then sat down in a straight backed chair on the other side of the coffee table, and explained, "I couldn't take you to dinner last night because I had a date with a woman I care for deeply." Sounded like the girlfriend wouldn't understand four flight attendants staying over so he would want his key back now. That wasn't it. He went on, "After dinner we came back here for a drink. We sat right there where you're sitting now. Guess what she saw?" We all looked around the room. Erika spotted it first and her mouth dropped open. The rest of us looked where she was staring. Behind Roger a big bra dangled from the lamp shade.

Joella Steps Out, by Tess (December 29, 2014)

Ken looked her up and down, then shook his head. "A fancy hairdo, a lot of makeup, a slinky dress ... what you look like, Joella, is a little girl playing at being a slut. And the immature, irresponsible way you've acted tonight goes a long way in showing me that you aren't grown up. Also that it's been too long since you got your butt blistered or you wouldn't even think of acting like you did tonight. I reckon your Dad can straighten you out real damned fast...but I'm going to add my bit right now if you don't get down here by the count of three. One...two..."

Lisa's New Job, by Alexia (December 26, 2014)

"Very well, young lady. You have now earned 10 extra spanks for dawdling! If I have to come and get you it will be 25 extra!" Lisa finally snapped out of it and made her way over to her governess' side. Emily reached up and grabbed her, dragging her over her lap. She took a moment to adjust the naughty girl on her lap, then lifted her dress up to her slender waist. Although she knew it was coming, Lisa still cried out in horror as Emily pulled her white nylon panties down to her knees. With the decks cleared for action, Emily raised the hairbrush and brought it down decisively across both dimpled cheeks. Again the study was filled with the sound of a solid wooden hairbrush spanking soft feminine flesh and the anguished cries of one very sore teenager.

Lottery Tickets, by M.D. (December 26, 2014)

Mark looked down at the sight before him. He'd viewed Nancy's pretty posterior from many angles, both covered and uncovered,but never this one. The full ovals of girl-flesh undulated slightly in the center of his lap and Mark's emotions stirred. Yes, he was angry with her and yes, she was going to get a sound spanking, but he still had to pause and admire the beauty of those opulent white globes. Impulsively, he leaned forward, planting a kiss on the summit of each buttock. But the time for gentleness had ended, the time to punish had begun!

Margaret's Enlightenment, by M.S. (December 22, 2014)

"Didn't I tell you to clean the kitchen yesterday?", he demanded. Without waiting for an answer, he delivered four more solid smacks to the bounding behind on his lap. "Didn't you tell me that you'd have it all cleaned by yesterday?", he demanded again, punctuating his question with yet another four firm spanks to the unfortunate Micky's bright red behind. "Well", SMACK, "didn't I?", SMACK, SMACK, SMACK. "Oww, ohh", sang back the unfortunate Micky, "oww, owww, stop. It hurts. It hurts. Ohh, please stop!" WHACK... "That's not what I asked you." smack, smack. "Answer the question!" SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK. Micky's long legs both kicked into the air as the last spank burned across her up-turned heinie. The reddened behind first huddled then yawned open as she arched outward trying to relieve the fire imparted by the punishing hairbrush.

Molly & Mike, by Jason (December 22, 2014)

As Molly left the airport and turned on to Mockingbird Lane for the trip to downtown Dallas, she remembered the time she had become Mike's disciplinarian as well as his loving wife. It was their wedding night in the honeymoon suite of a luxury hotel near Reunion Tower in downtown Dallas. She was sitting on the bed in white lace bra and panties. Mike, in white cotton briefs, had finished shaving and brushing his teeth in the bathroom and was standing beside her. She had only meant to be teasing when she said, "You had a little trouble concentrating on the wedding vows, my darling Mike. The priest had to repeat them twice."

Little Red Riding Hood, by Alexia (December 19, 2014)

And then she was tumbling off his lap and landing on her tender bottom in the scratchy, coarse straw. The confused and smarting girl scrambled to her feet and hastily pulled up the dropflap to her pantaloons, dashed away from the shed as fast as her legs could carry her, and leapt to her pony's back. Her startled groan as her sore nether regions met with the pony's broad back frightened the beast into a canter, which in turn made poor Rosa sorer still.

Behind her there was a roaring, devilish laugh that faded as her pony plunged back into the forest.

It was a much shorter ride home for Rosa than the way out had been, for the pony took the most direct route and arrived in its own paddock less than ten minutes after its mistress ran from the shed, the spanking, and the forester's humor. Rosa flung herself down and ran for her room in the cottage where she stayed for the rest of the afternoon, shamed and once again angry.

Reading is Fundamental, by Ralph Greco, Jr (December 19, 2014)

"But Tom," Juli tried as Tom came around to her ass again.

Admiring the view of her long balancing legs, her tight bottom and the spray of her long chestnut hair across her turned cheek, Tom watched in delight as Juli continued to grind her hips against the hard table-top. Yes, she feared being hit by the book, but she also wanted it.

"Just five," Tom announced, spread his feet and brought the book back. Juli just stared wide-eyed over her shoulder as the book connected.

Round Robin, by Tess (December 15, 2014)

Ty had been afraid he was going to be saddled with a flighty young girl with stars in her eyes and romantic visions of cowboys in her mind. The stars were there, all right, and he had his suspicions about the romantic visions, but even with all that coupled with a her excitement at being on her own for the first time, Robin could handle the job as general roustabout. She fit right in otherwise too--she loved the life she had only known for too-brief vacations and it was obvious from the start that she'd made good use of her times on her grandfather's ranch. She was no dude, she'd told Ty when he expressed his doubts to her on the first day---and she'd subsequently proven this to be true.

I'm a Senior, by Barbie (December 15, 2014)

"I don't remember agreeing that you were too old to be spanked by one of your peers--er two of your peers. A jury of your peers seems to believe that you aren't too old to benefit from a good spanking."

"Uncle Grant, you can't be serious!"

"Perfectly serious, and now, who goes first. Want to flip one of these pennies?"

Peg Gets It, Alexia Watches, by Alexia (December 12, 2014)

That night was interesting, a milestone in my relationship with Jess. I'm not too hot on non-private spankings, especially if I'm on the receiving end of things, and neither is he. Usually. At least not if the one being spanked has any wits about her at all. He has the patience of a saint and normally will delay a spanking with the heart-chilling phrase, "You and I have an appointment in my study," or something to that effect. This isn't to say that I haven't gotten my bottom whacked in public, but that's different than a panties down, dress up licking. In fact the few times that he's done it, the others present probably hadn't a clue that I had gotten walloped.

Perkins Pleasure, by James Fox (December 12, 2014)

Perkins half-caressed, half-massaged the reddening mounds, and then redoubled his efforts. This time his hand was cupped a little, and flogged down relentlessly, first one globe, then the other. The bare arse of the Honourable Margaret began to buck and shudder violently, and the beat was almost unbearable, especially as his attention turned to the area round the base of her rump, and the pronounced crease where it met ample thighs, straying over some tender intimate places. The contrast between the white of her back and legs, and the deep, blotchy pink of her bum became ever more dramatic, and by now she was panting furiously in time with the sharp crack of palm on shuddering skin. Suddenly he ceased without warning, and released her from his lap. Mrs. Robinson clambered to her feet in an undignified scramble of knickers, petticoats and skirts, and stood there shamelessly rubbing her hot bottom.

Popcorn, Peanuts and Paddles, by The Sergeant (December 8, 2014)

Melinda James walked into the locker room turned office precisely at 11:30, her appointed time. She was casually dressed, wearing a pair of conservatively cut shorts in a bermuda length, and a white man's shirt, with the tails tucked into the shorts. She was a strawberry blonde, with long hair, well below her shoulder blades and a tall, willowy figure. Her face was framed by her hair, its soft shades accenting the rich amber tones of her skin. She had deep green eyes, and just a hint of freckles over the nose, and much more abundant on her arms. Despite these, she obviously tanned well, and frequently, since her skin tone spoke of hours in the sun. In fact, Morgan noted with glee, under the shorts and shirt she was wearing a bathing suit, the outline of the shoulder straps plain under the soft material of the shirt. Not only a bathing suit, but a one piece one. Either she had not heard about his policy, or she had no plans to accept the punishment--surely she wouldn't risk that much added exposure.

The Politically Correct Spanking, by AL Purvis (December 8, 2014)

" May I get up now," she said evenly. She had regained her poise. There, within reach, was the perfect paddle for her hot pink posterior. The little wooden cheese board on the coffee table behind me. It measured about five by six inches, exclusive of the four inch handle, and was half an inch thick. In addition, it had a four by four inch tile inset which gave it added weight as well as a harder, smoother, spanking surface. "No," I said.

A Trip to the Past, by BC & Wife (December 5, 2014)

She cried as she walked across the floor to him. He was positioning a chair in the middle of the floor. He meant to spank her right out there in front of God and everybody! He took her across his lap as he sat on the chair and lifted her dress. She waited for her panties to be taken down, but this was considered a public spanking so her modesty was preserved this much at least

Patricia and Ryan, by Alexia (December 5, 2014)

"Nonono! Nonono!" With agonizing slowness the shivering woman came away from the corner and inched towards Ryan who waited patiently for her to do as she had been told. This time he didn't hurry her; if she wanted the misery dragged out, well, he was happy to oblige. Finally she lowered herself across his lap and allowed herself to be shifted forward so that both her hands were flat on the floor and her feet were in the air, her rear end horribly bare, centered across his lap. He caressed the trembling haunches and said, "Should I use a paddle or a strap on you, Patricia? Which would teach you your lessons better?"

You Wood-n't Dare, by Frank Tenaya (December 1, 2014)

"N000000!" she yelled, followed by, OWWW-WWUH" as the paddle landed across her defenseless bottom with a ringing crack. Her legs, sheathed in a sheer green silk dress, flew up into the air, and her head rose as if to meet them. The pain of the first spank she had ever felt barely had time to register before Allen planted a dozen more, all as hard as the first and all bridging the summit of her finely contoured behind.

Broken Window, Broken Fanny, by Victoria (December 1, 2014)

He couldn't stand those smacks. Every smack his Aunt Vicky ever delivered hurt, but these were the worst. On a scale from one to fifteen, these were twenty. He couldn't take them without begging her to stop and kicking his legs quite wildly. Kicking as he did was quite dangerous because often the inner thighs felt the brush. He really couldn't keep from crying and yelling when that happened. What made it worse was that he closed his thighs hard to protect himself from another stroke, and Aunt Vicky would get his outer thigh. Then it would be back to the backs of his thighs until he was kicking wildly again.

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