Male/Female Stories

"Assuming your daughter agrees that a caning would be in her best interest, I'm going to require that you return here tomorrow afternoon and submit to a caning also. You have obviously forgotten its lessons and a dose of the rattan will certainly make you realize how valuable a tool it can be to a growing girl. I'm certain it will also ease your own conscience a bit.”

Patricia was stunned. She was 33 years old! To have to submit to a caning at her age seemed totally ludicrous. God, she thought on the verge of tears, I can't believe this is happening. She knew that something was going to have to change, but she certainly didn't want to put herself in that position again. Caned at her age! It seemed totally insane!

Peaches was sobbing unashamedly, flinging herself from one side of the bench to the other. Bubbles felt herself tremble every time Bill brought his arm back.

Harry didn't seem overly troubled by the shocking scene playing out before them. Bubbles winced in sympathy at each loud slap and tearful wail. She poked Harry again, whispering, "She's had enough! Tell him to quit!"

Though Kathy had seen her roommate undressed a few times around the apartment, this was the first time her naked buttocks had been seen by Jan or Harry. "Boy," they both thought, "there's no wonder she is such a popular swim suit model. What a butt!"

Harry, however, quickly remembered the reason her fanny was uncovered. He placed his left hand on the right side of her waist and held her in position. Then he raised his right arm. Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! April jumped and wiggled as her behind experienced its first smacks in nearly three years. Kathy's eyes bugged out as she saw her physically mature roommate getting smacked. And Jan just looked stern, as though she believed the young woman was getting exactly what she had coming.

Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Harry did not hit quite as hard as April's father but he had a knack for hitting every inch of her backside. Then, when every bit of round flesh was tingling from the first assault, he'd go around again and begin to cause some real discomfort.

"You didn't take ANYTHING out for dinner, let alone enough for my boss and his wife. 'Forgetting' is NOT a good excuse! I was totally humiliated. Now it's your turn!"

I raised my hand high above her ass and brought it down with a thunderous CLAP!

"OUCH!" Sammy gasped as a pink outline of my hand appeared across the highest point of her left cheek. Another was soon appearing, as if my magic, on the same spot on the right cheek.

"If you want it so badly, you can get it. If those girls mean so much. It is in your mother's attic. Search for it!" Betsy flipped around and headed for her office door.

She didn't make it. This time she was twirled around and jerked back across Ted's knee again. Her skirt was up in a flash and her panties hadn't moved from about her knees in all the fracas. Ted's hand landed on her already sore bottom and in minutes she was agreeing to go to his mother's and get the yearbook. With her agreement, Ted stopped the smacks. He asked, "You explained to my mother that I was looking for women in a twenty-five year old year book?"

Spankings in the Stanley household began at age thirteen. If either of the girls was disobedient, they would be taken to Daddy’s study. The door would be ominiously closed behind them. Behind closed doors, bottoms were bared (always!) for the upcoming spanking. Shivering, humiliated, frightened and embarrassed, the girls had to stand next to Daddy as he sat in a straightbacked chair. They were always so embarrassed at this point. They were holding up their skirts and their panties were down and everything was exposed. Daddy frequently took this occasion to casually tap the back of the hairbrush on his open palm (which made a gentle splat, splat, splat sound) and asked questions-lots of questions-to the poor frightened young girl with the intention of increasing her dread of the upcoming spanking. He was always successful.

"I think... that since you lost such an important part of your apparel in public, that your spanking... should be public. At least, public enough to properly represent your carelessness in this forum. Perhaps with an audience--an audience of two or three random observers." My face paled at his words. The men behind us looked at each other, both with wide grins on their faces.

My mouth opened a little and moved, but no comprehensible words came out. "You wouldn't," I eventually breathed.

I whacked her three times more across the lowest part of her buttocks. I could see the glistening wetness of her pussy so I slapped her there too, knowing she would feel at least the vibration if not the impact. In response she pushed her bottom out rudely so I whacked the ruler hard several times across the very top of her thighs. She shrieked with pain and, after a few strokes more, began to climax so I spanked her even harder while she came. She was rubbing her clit at the same time and her climax went the longest I could remember.

I stopped when she did and immediately she turned, still weeping, and fell to her knees. She opened my jeans and pulled my cock free. It was very hard and she thrust it straight into her mouth very deep. It was something she always did brilliantly but the urgency of it now was a superb feeling. I sat down on the sofa to enjoy it. With tongue, lips and fingers all at once, she was bringing me very quickly to a climax. Her little hand moved in to take over the shaft of my cock while her tongue and lips concentrated on the tip and underside. With her free hand she was tearing off her sweater and lifting her camisole.

Slowly, Mary pulled her white gauze cover-up over her head and placed it in the log as she had been instructed. As she did it, I noticed that she did expose a lot of herself around the bikini. I hoped I didn't expose as much, but I was afraid that I did. Mary shook her dark hair and ran her fingers through it to arrange it. She looked at me and shrugged her shoulders in defeat as she draped herself across the log. The white panties stretched across her big girlish bottom and I shuddered as I knew they would provide scat protection, if indeed, and I doubted it, she was allowed to leave them up. Our fathers believed that all spankings had to be on the bare bottom to be effective and I knew they weren't about to change their minds now.

Tears dripped to the carpet as she pleaded and struggled with each descent of Henderson"s palm across her squirming bottom. First one shoe, then the other flew from her feet and her panties now hung on a single ankle and only her fear of losing this intimate garment caused her to stop kicking.

SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!!! "Aieeee!!"

"Seventy-five" she heard the counter"s voice. "Oh, please" she pleaded with Henderson, "that"s enough! Please, no more!"

Valerie had never felt so humiliated as she did that moment. She couldn't remember ever having been spanked. Yet here she was, being paddlewacked in public! The second vice-president of the Business and Professional Women's Association. Soundly spanked!

It was a good thing Valerie had so much paddling back there. She needed it! That little shovel was proving to be a potent spanking paddle. It made a most satisfying ringing sound each time it made contact with the pantied posterior of Michael's mate. The photographers, after some initial hesitation, were now flashing away. And the audience, while still astonished, was responding with laughs, gasps, squeals and some excited commentary.

The spanks rained down. On one cheek and then the other until her whole bottom was a bright shade of pink and Barbie was begging him to quit. She had given up trying to keep her legs together and still a long time ago. She was bouncing and wiggling and trying her hardest to roll off his lap. But she couldn't get loose. Uncle Grant had a tight hold and he just kept the spanks coming. Over and over again. Left, right, left, right and high and low and side and middle.

I gave her bottom a minute rub before having her stand so that she could retrieve the maple oval backed hairbrush from the bathroom. She brought it back to me immediately and positioned herself across my lap again. WHACK on the right cheek, WHACK on the left cheek and WHACK across both cheeks. Thirty times the brush smacked into her blazing behind. Lisa yelled "OUCH” and "SSSTOP! I'LL BE GOOD.” Her behind was a shade of red that I had never seen before. It was a cross between cherry red and ripe apple red.

After the spanking Lisa and I spent the rest of the night making love. The warmth of her bottom againt my pelvic region was a major factor to my ability of having two orgasms. Lisa had four powerful orgasms that night.

"Oh, you want to talk fair."he said grimly, "What's unfair is for you to, once again, charge my Gold Card up to its limit on some frivolous item that you have absolutely no need for. And to go behind my back! I've tried everything I can think of, Ruthie." He lambasted her already sore behind again several times, one right after the other, then went on,"I've tried talking to you, even pleading with you," WHACK! THWACK! "Each time you agree to curb your spending." WHACK! CRACK! "Each time you continue to do exactly as you please." WHACK! SMACK!

I've come to the realization that there`s nothing I can get you to do to stop wasting my money on these luxury items. Maybe this will stop you. Maybe not."

"Oh, ow! No, I don't need anybody", Lisa shouted but her head was beginning to tell her differently as her bottom began to warm from his administrations. She WAS tired of always getting her own way. To her it seemed that no one cared about her because they did not stop her from doing the many foolish things she had done over the years. She remembered how her friends had told her how they were punished for misbehavior and how they had felt loved and forgiven afterwards. Lisa had never known those feelings for she had never been disciplined in her life. Yet here she was being spanked for the first time by the man that she adored and she could not give in to him or the spanking.

Pam tightened her buttocks. She could feel them quivering. She wanted to be braver, but this was the worse spanking that she ever received. She sometimes had nightmares about it. Pam was frantic. She kicked her one free leg and begged. John's hand came down with a hard wallop to one buttock and stayed there. The pressure came and he pulled her bottom cheeks apart. The handle of the spatula landed for the first excruciating smack on the tender inner cheek. Pam shrieked. One was more than enough and she had to take fifteen. Fifteen on one inner cheek and then fifteen on the other. Each landed in the same spot and made a resounding sound. The sting on the inner cheek was incredible. Pam howled, twisted, cried, begged and kicked. The only accomplishment that she was capable of achieving was losing her panties from about her ankle.

Ron gave Leslie a firm swat with the brush on her right cheek and then on her left one. SWAT! "How dare you not tell me what to expect today." WHACK!.. SMACK!.. WHACK!.. SWAT! "I hope you are learning something today young lady. I will not tolerate, you keeping me in the dark about something like this." SWAT!.. WHACK!.. CRACK!.. "How do you feel being across my lap getting your bare ass spanked in front of all these people?" Swat!.. WHACK!.. CRACK!.. Leslie sobbed and kicked the air with each crack of the brush. "I feel funny having you across my lap with these other people watching your ass get redder and redder." He gave her thirty whacks with the brush before he put it down and began to softly rub her scarlet behind. A dollop of lotion was rubbed into her sore throbbing seat before Leslie got off his lap.

Irene paused for a moment then cringed. There was only one corner she ever had to stand in. It was in the basement. Dark and dirty with a small square of white concrete cleared next to the furnace. A small, empty space on a floor cluttered with the broken and discarded objects that had accumulated over the years. There were spiders in the basement, spinning their nasty webs on the naked pipes. In her childhood fears there were worse things; unnamed horrors lurking in the dark shadows just waiting for a small girl they could devour. Even when she was older and knew better than to believe in monsters, the basement was the pit of her nightmares. She cried and pleaded each time she was sentenced to stand in silent penance in the musty squalor. She protested but she was careful not to protest too much. When her cries exasperated her father he would switch the light off as he left multiplying her torture by adding darkness to the other terrors.

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! The ruler suddenly rose and fell in rapid succession on each glowing orb and then across the crack, bringing ever sharper squeals from Amy. Then Larry began a more steady assault and her entire spanking area gradually became a deeper shade of red.

Linda watched in astonishment as her sister's nude buttocks absorbed spank after spank from the ruler. They bounced wildly over Larry's lap and, if Amy had managed to get some enjoyment out of the earlier portion of her punishment, she certainly showed no signs of it at that point. The cheeks were clenched tightly and the once well_defined crevice had become a narrow aperture.

Still the spanking continued. Larry had waited a long time for this opportunity and he likely would never get the chance again. But, as he saw portions of the skin mottling and a few blisters being produced, he eased up on the force of the smacks and concentrated on the less inflamed parts.

Lianne suddenly felt the embarrassment wash over her. The feeling was delicious, like a well of energy and she wanted to draw it out and make it last. She was supposed to feel ashamed and the more ashamed she felt, the better everyone would like it. There was a feeling of luxury about that.

"Couldn't I be given another chance," she whispered. "Couldn't there be some other way. Please, Sir. It's so embarrassing to have to take my panties down like a little girl."

"That's right, Janice," I said, drawing the strap through my fingers. "I'm afraid you're in for a spanking regardless. You can get it from me or you can get it from your father. Just remember two things. If you get it from me, you get to go to the dance. And your father's a lot bigger and a whole lot stronger than I am. It's up to you, Janice. But I sure know what I'd do in your shoes."

Janice looked pleasingly at me and pleasingly at her mother and couldn't bear to look at her younger sister at all. Then, with a helpless shrug, and in a voice so halting and diminutive I could hardly hear her, she turned to me and said, "I guess ... would it be okay if ... "(a sigh and a deep breath)" ... could I get my spanking from you?"

And when the hairbrush smacked down hard on her bare bottom, her crying became more urgent, more insistent. It took only a few more smacks for her crying to get so excited that she was unintelligible. Every once in awhile she tried to catch her breath and actually say something, but that hairbrush kept smack-cracking down and she would lose it all over again. Except she was usually able to get out "Daddy." There was a lot of "Daddy" going on.

While she may be dressed like a six year old and take a spanking like a six year old, there was no doubt that the female across my lap was a full grown woman, with lovely, kicking legs and a glorious bottom in mid-spanking.

How I wished I hadn't written that stupid letter. If only I had just not mailed it. Written it and dropped it in the drawer of my desk. Why had I mailed it? Because I was mad. Hugh's support had always been so positive. I expected praise from him. I had felt betrayed. Unfortunately he was right, his points had been valid and only constructive. I had to learn to take criticism. But not like this, not over Hugh's knee.

Why did he have to be so right about everything? I hated that too. He knew exactly what I would do if he let me,let our friendship fade. He knew me too well. But not as well as he thought--if he thought that I was going to accept a spanking and remain his friend,he had another think coming. I would never get over if he really spanked me. The idea of the humiliation of that was too much for me.

The hairbrush landed with a loud SPLATT on her right bottom cheek. WHACK! on the left buttock.

"Plllease," she moaned, "Not so hard!"

Ned ignored this and then the spanking commenced in earnest. WHAPP! CRACK! SPLATT! WACK! CRACK! over both cheeks of Nancy's wiggling, wagging bottom.

Nancy squirmed and cried, kicked her legs---but could not escape the avenging hairbrush, Finally, as her bottom turned from a deep shade of pink to a deep scarlet, she could hold it back no longer. The tears rolled down her face on to the den carpet.

She struggled desperately now, a thrashing tigress, her poor bottom aflame. Tears burst from her pretty blue eyes, running in rivulets down her face.

At first the threats of a spanking, then its actuality had primarily evoked emotions of embarrassment and humiliation in Karyn. A grown woman being spanked like a schoolgirl for ignoring her lessons! But now feelings of embarrassment had abandoned her, only the searing pain in her buttocks mattered, a pain increased and intensified with each application of the male palm rising and descending above her. SPANK!...SPANK! SPANK! ...SPANK! SPANK! SPA...N...K!! SPANK! SPANK!...SPANK!! SPANK! SPAN...KK!! She squirmed and twisted her hips trying desperately, unsuccessfully to avoid the punishing slaps to her backside.

We both watched the parking lot expectantly; me so I could start again, she so her ordeal would soon end. Finally a head peered around the corner, Beth! I was pleased. From where she was standing, she would be able to see Trish's black hair, her bare shoulders, and, rising behind my forearm, Trish's almost naked backside. Beth would also see, and hear, each spank as it landed on her friend's behind. I smiled and ran my thumb up the back of Trish's left thigh and my fingers up the back of her right thigh. Her skin fluttered at my touch and her buttocks trembled.

licia was protesting as the first spank fell. It was tentative and I took Carrie's arm and showed her how to deliver the spanks. Alicia was soon kicking and squirming under the blows, her hips wiggling from side to side as she tried to avoid the blows. Carrie's face was intent as she watched her mother's ass turn red and quiver under the rain of spanks.

When Alicia started crying instead of cursing, I told Carrie to give her five more , then to let her up. As Alicia stood there, rubbing her glowing red bottom, I told her that she was grounded for the next month and could only go to work and home. I told her that Carrie and I would do the shopping and whatever else needed to be done.

"Stop! I won't hold still! I won't! You can't make me!" Natalie cried. Her bottom stung. She vaguely remembered the times across Eric's knees, she wouldn't have dared yell at him this way. Meekly, she would have raised her own skirt, and lowered her panties. While she would have cried before he stopped, she would have thanked him, oh, so very sincerely, when it was over. Eric's spankings were given out of love. She knew it, deep down, really knew it. He had made her feel cherished. Why Kevin was doing this, she didn't know.

Kevin's large hand stinging down on her bottom focused her mind on the present. "OW! Enough! Enough!" She wiggled and squirmed and howled. He could stop her bottom from dodging those horrid swats, but he couldn't stop her mouth from protesting And protest she did. She was mad and he was going to know it. And it hurt. Oh, she had forgotten how much a hard male hand on her sensitive bottom hurt.

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.

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.

He cleared his throat.

"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.

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.

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".

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.

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."

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?"

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.

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.

""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.

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.

"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.

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.

"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."

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.

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.

``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?''

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

"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?"

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.

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.

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.

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."

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.

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.

Tiffany moaned wordlessly and stamped her feet but her fingers wiggled inside the elastic band of her panties. "It's not fair," she muttered, "I'm grown up. I'm not a baby." Despite her protest, the black panties began to slowly move down her legs. The shaved mound of her sex came slowly into view. She stopped when the panties reached her knees. Tiffany splayed her legs slightly stretching the elastic waistband in place, holding the wisp of black fabric at her knees. Now she was naked from the hem of her short blouse to the tops of her stockings halfway down her thighs. I could see that the crotch of her panties were darkened with moisture. Her whole body shivered as Tiffany, humiliated, could not look me in the eye. Her head tilted to the floor.

After Angie left, Kyle sat down at his desk and looked at the ruler he had used on Angie. He was remembering how her hips had squirmed as he swatted her over and over. Kyle smiled to himself. Only a couple of months until the end of the semester. He wanted to go out with Angie Corman. He thought she had a very cute ass and would like to get his hands on it. Maybe.....

Angie eased her sore backside down onto her car seat. She sat in the parking lot for a couple of minutes before she started the car. She had deserved something for cheating. She was glad that Professor Donovan had taken matters into his own hands, so to speak. She could understand why so many of the girls in class mooned over him. With that black hair and dark blue eyes, with that cleft in his chin, he was handsome enough to be a star. She knew that there was a rule about teachers dating students, however, maybe when school was out. As much as she hated getting spanked, maybe...

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.

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.

"My paddlings always begin with me going over my husband's lap, skirts up and panties down at my ankles, for a long, hand-spanking session of something like 200 hard swats. During this time he stops frequently to scold, remind me of why I'm being punished, and ask if I'm learning my lesson ("Yes, YES . . . OW OW! OOOWWW!! . . . please, PLEASE . . . OW! OOOWWWW!! S-T-O-P-!!"). Then, just when I think, maybe, it's over, he'll sometimes stop again, and I feel him reaching back for something. That's when my heart drops into the pit of my stomach cause I know it's the spanking hairbrush! It's been in my family for three generations and has always been used for just one purpose -- to send naughty girls off to bed with bonfire-blazing bare-behinds guaranteed to require the tummy-down position all night. It's just awful when an already sound hand-spanking is concluded this way -- I usually get fifty or more horrendous hairbrush-spanks on my throbbing bare seat, and I'm weeping rivers -- and pleading for my life -- long before it's over!"

Taking the paddle from her, I pulled Jane down into the classical over-the-knee position that she knew so well, with her behind arched perfectly over my knee, and her upper body stretched out on the bed. I pressed the wooden surface on her behind, and with a quick glance at Nina to make sure she was watching, I lifted the paddle and brought it down for the first crisp spank on the cute curves of my wife's behind. I noted the wave pattern that spread from the edge of the paddle towards the outer limits of her behind, and the sudden tensing of her muscles as the sting of the first smack made itself felt. I looked up and saw that Nina's eyes were glued to the sight of her friend getting spanked. Gone was the embarrassment of being bare from the waist to her ankles, and forgotten for the time, was the fact that her bare bum was next in line for a spanking.

Under his questioning, she was forced to see that spanking was a memorable punishment without any permanent harm, and she confessed that the shame and helplessness were as much a factor as the actual pain. She began to see that she was lacking discipline in her life and needed it badly, and that Denny would not shake his responsibilities in that regard. He urged her to explore other ideas of punishment, other facets of spanking, until she had covered everything from standing in the corner to bending over for a paddling to laying face down on her bed with her bottom exposed after being given a tanning. She cried a little, but earned no more whack while they spoke.

I pressed down on Jane's right bum-cheek firmly, and flattened out my hand. Without another word, I raised my hand, and held it at the top of the arc for a second, while Jane inhaled and tightened her bum in preparation for the first spank. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! The first five slaps bounced across her bottom, and echoed silently within the walls of the bedroom. Jane silently let out her breath, just as I let fly with another five slaps, evenly spaced on the target of her left cheek, then returned to the right for the next five. After fifty spanks, twenty-five on each side, I paused and addressed the woman/child who lay sobbing quietly over my knee.

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?"

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.