From the Divine Miss E


This is a note she sent to a mutual friend telling about her recent adventure at our home.

Hi- a little spankee update- I may have to run and finish getting the kids to bed.

Our little adventure started in the beautiful sitting room. Bacall and I sat together on a loveseat and Bogey settled himself across from us. He thought he would issue a stiff lecture but Bacall and I acted so badly, he gave up. He then went and got a cane and told me to get myself into the bedroom. (the BR was through a large open doorway). I hemmed and hawed, but did go finally after Bacall said I better watch out he might lay one across my thighs right there.

Once there, I advised him he might want to draw the curtains- while he turned to do that, I made tracks back to the sitting room for more giggles with Bacall.

That escape turned up his thermostat a notch. He told me to get right back in there; that if he had to come and get me, I would regret it; so I did. Then he asked me if I was still refusing to prepare myself for punishment (I had emailed him that I would not raise my skirt). I wouldn’t look at him and said I had no intention. He sat down on the loveseat at the end of the bed, pulled me over, raised my skirt, and proceeded to give me a few cuts of the cane. It hurt pretty sharply but wasn’t too bad. Kind of “ow–ow–ow!”.

After he let me up, he sat on the edge of the bed and motioned for me to go across his lap. Of course I wouldn’t do it.

Big Mistake. He got up and proceeded to unbuckle my kilt and remove it. Then he put me across the bed and took my panties all the way down while spanking me with his hand. All the while berating me for my defiance.

Then he picked up one of the paddles. At that point, I told him to eat shit. Bacall was laughing at me from the other room and I told her to eat shit too. Big Mistake #2.

Bogey proceeded to wear me out with the paddle. When he let me up, he called Bacall in to deal with her. He put her across the bed and proceeded to spank her bottom with the leather paddle. I jumped and winced every time he hit her.

Then he put me back across the bed beside Bacall. I was terrified, but Bacall and I got the giggles again in the worst way. This levity did not go over well, and Bogey paddled us both until we were more serious. He worked up quite a sweat!

I loved playing with Bacall- even at the worst moments we had fun exchanging looks and grins (or grimaces!).

Coffee, Tea, or Me

For Openers

It’s been a while since we posted a story. This one was written by The Devine Miss E. She fancied me as Snape. I never got the connection, but her brain was vastly larger than mine. It’s not your run-of-the-mill spanking story.

Coffee, Tea, or Me

Hermione smiled and sighed to herself, holding her cup in both hands. The wizarding world was wonderful, but there were muggle comforts she could not bring herself to leave, and sitting at this particular cafe was one of them. The coffee here was second to none, and the rich, dark, almost oily smell of it permeated everything on this corner, despite the breeze that teased gently at her hair. She shifted in her chair and turned the page of her book.

Flipping the page, she looked up as a figure moved fluidly through the crowded tables. There was something distinctly familiar about the lanky gentleman, in his black jeans and black shirt. Almost poetic, almost a beatnik look.. almost. His back was to her as he ordered his coffee, and she looked with admiration at the lean body, the pitch-black hair pulled neatly into a low ponytail.

Hermione lost track of her book. She wondered idly what kind of coffee he was getting. Would he go for a dark french roast or something with a milder flavor? Did he take it black to savor the natural bitterness, or with cream and sugar to sweeten the experience? He pulled a neatly folded bill from his pocket, paid the bored-looking cafe girl, and studied the change more than he should have, she thought.

She had yet to see his face. He was just turning, and Hermione let her face turn pointedly toward her book, though her eyes remained on the tall, slender gentleman. She recognized that she really was staring, and when she saw the other patron coming, out of the corner of her eye, she kept her mouth closed with some difficulty, to keep from giving herself away.

The stranger stepped back a pace, his arms raised smoothly away as the grungy college student rounded him, almost spilling his own cup. “Watch it, old man!” he muttered, and turned to face the tall stranger he’d almost bowled over. The grubby teenager in his pitiful excuse for a wardrobe hardly held a candle to the man, and Hermione would have stood up herself to defend, had the man not spoken at that second.

His free hand tangled tightly in the teenager’s greasy hair, tugging his head back sharply, never losing his featherlight grip on the steaming cup of coffee. His voice cut through the air, though he barely spoke aloud at all, almost hissing into the boy’s ear. “You would do well to slow down, young man. Other people are not so… kind… as i.” Hermione fought hard to stop herself from gaping as she watched the man release the teen’s head with a snap and move like water around him as the startled boy slunk away, loking very much at that moment like a whipped dog. The voice that came from the stranger’s throat was deep, even, smooth, and carried an edge like a blade… a deadly one. She ripped her eyes away from the scene to look back to her book, but the words were a blur. She trembled, in spite of herself, and shifted uncomfortably in the wrought iron seat. He was here.


Severus turned to face the cluster of small tables, settling for one near the side of the cafe wall, and sat with his back to it, surveying everything, especially the girl in the second table over, with her hair parted in the middle and done up in two tight stiff braids, the ends curling gently from their elasticized enclosure. She looked like she was studying the slim volume held in front of her, but he recognized the way she held those shoulders. If he could have seen her face, he would bet galleons against bubblegum that her eyes were blank, and she was no more studying than rollerskating.

He’d seen her turn when he scared some manners into yet another disrespectful Gen X-er, had seen that braid flip stubbornly over her shoulder. The idiot college boy had been directly in his line of sight, however, and when he glanced back up, she’d turned to her original position again.

Looking at his coffee, he stirred in two spoonfuls of raw sugar with more care than most. He’d almost heard her gasp when he spoke. Had he frightened her? Good. One less teenage know-it-all to bother him. He dragged the edge of the spoon silently across the rim of the cup, then put the spoon aside and picked up the warm cup. Then he looked up with a bit of surprise, rare as it was for him. The girl was heading his way. And he knew that particular stride like the back of his hand.


Oh god, oh god, I don’t believe I’m doing this. Hermione’s mind voice squalled in her ear, Stop, you stupid girl. This isn’t some stupid boy in the Gryffindor common room. This is Snape. What’s he got to say to you? Why are you going? Don’t go, sit here and be still and oh, Hell, never mind, we’re here now. Now what? Hermione stopped in front of him, and settled her mouth into some semblance of a smile, though her heart pounded heavily in her chest and she fought hard to keep still.

“Now what?”

Snape quirked an eyebrow, and it wasn’t until that second that she realized she’d spoken those words aloud. “Now what, indeed, Miss Granger.” He leaned forward a bit now, moving in a manner less snakelike than catlike, and looked up at her. The almost wicked smile toying about his thin lips was… amused. Granger, the ineffable know-it-all, the one with an answer for everything, was now standing before him utterly speechless, and she’d come to him of her own accord. This was going to be interesting.

“What are you doing here at my table this despicably bright day, Miss Granger? I see you have a book. Why isn’t your prying nose poked into it?”

She would have been offended, but the usual acid tone was not here. This time, it was replaced by a liquid smoothness, like melted butter. Not a taunt. He was teasing. He was… playing with her! She felt a spark travel through her, ending in a pit that was altogether inappropriate.

“Well, Professor,” she began boldly, “I saw you, and in your.. um current wardrobe, I thought I might come compliment you on your choice of fashion.” She smiled brightly, and almost braved a wink, but faltered. Coward, her inner Gryffindor sneered. She winced inwardly and pressed on.

“Perhaps you should dress like this in your classes? I rather think you’d have a much better response from your students… ” She paused, then pushed reason aside, giving over completely to her damned Gryffindor impulses. “Especially your female students…”

Snape didn’t blink, didn’t move, his mouth turned gently up at the corners in the vaguest hint of a devious grin. “Well, I think first order of business should be for you to procure a seat, Miss Granger. You are beginning to draw attention. I doubt I need to draw any MORE attention.” He gestured towards the chair beside him with long slender finger, and almost numbly, she sat. “Very good, Miss Granger. You follow instructions like you’ve been trained.” He lifted his cup to his lips, looking into its depths and away from her as he did so. Let her make sense of THAT!

Hermione stifled the gasp as she flushed deeply. What had he meant, trained? His tone was still smooth and rich, lacking the bitter quality she had been so used to. She shook her head a bit, clearing the fog. “Um. I .. it’s um.. ” Stupid girl, her inner voice said. You know exactly what he means. And you like it. She stopped before making any more of a fool of herself, and placed her book on the table, burying her face in her coffee cup to buy her a moment to settle her tightening stomach and regain control of her baser impulses which were now threatening to dampen her jeans in a manner that made her blush to even think of it.

Snape let his hand move across the table to turn the book face up. “Ah.. Advanced Potions working. Interesting.” He flipped through until he found her place, and studied the page with a practiced eye. “This is an extremely difficult subject matter, Miss Granger. Have you been attempting this level of work alone?”

“I.. um. No?” she offered lamely, shifting in the chair.

“Ah, good.” Hermione blinked, still staring at her cup. Was that concern in his voice? He continued. “Even as intelligent as you are, Miss Granger, this level of study should always be supervised by someone experienced with it. It is extremely dangerous if even the slightest mistake occurs. You do not want to do this type of work alone.” She put her cup down, letting her hands fall to hold tightly to the edge of the chair. She breathed slowly, shallowly, and felt as if she might faint, and then, she made a fatal mistake. She looked at him.

The PotionsMaster’s black eyes caught hers, and she could not could not could NOT look away from the inky depths of them. She gasped when he moved again, his hand leaving the book to trace a line of fire up the outside of her thigh. “One should always have an experienced person around when doing dangerous things…”

It seemed to her he was looking into her soul. He leaned closer to her, almost touching her cheek with his lips as he spoke in a low, deep, rumbling whisper. “You, Miss Granger, are doing VERY dangerous things at present…”

She trembled, in spite of herself, and lowered her head, eyes falling to her lap as she blushed hot. Looking down as she was, she watched in wonder and almost fear as his hand moved slowly, languidly across the top of her jean-clad thigh to trace smooth circles on the inside of that thigh. Her breath caught hard in her throat when he closed his fingers in a deep soft pinch, and he smiled. She wondered idly how he managed to be so utterly silent in his movements when he leaned back a few inches, moving his hand slowly up her body, tracing the zipper of her pullover, finally tipping her chin up to look again at him.

“Miss Granger, I had a choice, and now you have one… So…” He let his finger leave her chin as he quickly moved closer, lips brushing her ear. “If you wish to continue in this vein… ” Here he paused, letting his now frustratingly gentle touch trace up her hand, into the edge of her sleeve, pressing firmly at the pulse on her wrist. “Then follow me.” With that, he stood, and moved away, threading through the maze of tables to disappear down the narrow alleyway beside the cafe.


Part II

Coffee, Tea, or Me

Damn, damn, double damn! Hermione cursed herself, but for what, she couldn’t remember. She only knew three things. One, her book was in her hand, and she was almost running. Two, the burning in the pit of her stomach was increasing and creeping downward… and Three, it was IMPERATIVE that she keep up with the tall dark man walking ahead of her.

He did not look back, did not pause, he kept up his ground-skimming stride, so smooth it would not have surprised her if he was floating. At last, he stopped. Hermione was out of breath when she approached his side, and stood still, almost panting as he pulled his wand from somewhere indeterminate. He tapped the wall, murmured something she couldn’t quite hear, and stepped smoothly through it.

Despite her Wizarding knowledge, some things still surprised her, and she stared at the blank wall, much like she had when she’d first come to the station that day so long ago and had to walk at that wall there. She’d pretended all day to be brave and had walked boldly and straightforwardly at that intimidating tower of brick. She’d thought she would faint dead away when she reached the wall, but she had closed her eyes and walked through anyway, and her hands were trembling and her knuckles white when she emerged on the other side. Though she would never have let anyone see that.

Snape peeked back out again, almost as an afterthought, and fixed her with another of those oddly amused and wicked looks. “Ah. You’ve decided to come after all. How nice. Keep up. ” And with that, he disappeared again. Hermione took a deep breath and closed her eyes, stepping sharply through.

It was dim on the other side, and Snape stood there, in the flickering torchlight of a long hallway, facing her. He was no longer in his jeans and smooth silk shirt, but once more in the flowing robes of the Potions Master. The only difference was that his hair was still drawn back into that sleek ponytail. His arms were folded, and his wand was in his hand.

Hermione froze. He was formidable, she had to give him that. Black eyes called beady by her friends were deep and soulful to her, and he stood as if not even a hurricane could move him from where he stood. And on his face was that same look. She tried hard to place it exactly. What WAS he thinking? The man was quite an enigma. She wondered if she would prefer it better if she DID know, or if his mystery was the better part of his charm. She let her gaze wander down his frame, her head bowing as she did.

“Miss Granger…”

She jumped when he spoke again, and looked up at him, her eyes moving from the shiny black of his shoes, up along the folds of the robes, to the strong shoulders, finally meeting the dark eyes.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, child, don’t look so stricken.” He slid the wand into his robes. “You are here precisely because you want to be.” He paused, and shifted, eyeing her. HE thought to himself that he rather liked the glitter of apprehension in her liquid brown eyes. He took a slow step forward, and Hermione fought to keep from stepping a pace back.

“What do you imagine I will do with you?” he asked, advancing on her with a meter that would have made her bolt had he been anything but a human. Indeed, if he had been any OTHER human, she might have bolted as well, but she stood, still, and firm, eyes growing wider. He reached, taking the book from her hands. She watched it disappear into the depths of his robes, leaving her hands empty.

He was in front of her now, leaning down slightly, his hands clasped behind his back. “What’s the matter, Miss Granger? Cat got your tongue?” She caught her breath and her mouth moved in a wordless opening and closing. Snape pressed a finger under her chin, closing her pretty mouth.

“That is singularly unattractive, Miss Granger,” he said, lips still curled gently into that almost grin that both chilled and exhilarated her. “If you are going to speak, do so. If not, then keep your mouth closed.” She bit her lip to keep from performing her imitation of a fish again, and balled her hands into fists at her sides, desperate to keep from trembling.

“You play games, Miss Granger, and you do not fool me. I see what you do, how you move. Do you think any of the looks you have thrown my way have escaped my attention?” She blushed hot, and looked down.

He took her chin in his hand and pulled it up sharply again. “Look at me when I speak to you.” His eyes were harder now, and he fixed her with a stare that let her know plainly what he was about. “Let me be perfectly clear, Miss Granger. If you continue with me, if you follow me, then you obey me, and you will do so completely, do you understand?”

She did tremble now, caught hard between what she so desperately wanted, and the urge to turn and run as fast and hard as she could. He stroked a fingertip down her cheek, and his voice softened. “Do you understand, Miss Granger?”

Hermione took a deep breath, and nodded, once, her eyes flickering downward for an instant before snapping back up to his. The obedience he had requested began instantly, almost without her consent.

Snape smiled and leaned in further, his lips meeting hers in a crushing kiss, and she opened to him, feeling him kissing her, moving his hand to press at the back of her head. Her eyes remained wide open, she was unable to close them, and she could see his face, so close to hers, could smell the almost acrid scent of the herbs and potions on him, feel the surprising softness of his fingers pressing insistently at the back of her neck. His tongue searched, invading her, drawing fire from her core up to her throat. He broke the kiss, and stepped back, smiling wider now, and his eyes shone.

“You kiss well, girl. It pleases me.” Hermione beamed. “Now, please take your hair out of those ridiculous braids. You look like a farm child.” Hermione blinked, and her hands moved without her even thinking to undo the elastics and shake her hair free. It stood out a bit more than usual, the crimping left by the braids giving it a wave that was not usual, but, Snape noted, it was pretty. Perhaps he would have her braid it at night, and loose it in the mornings. Ah, but that was for later. First things first.

He turned again, striding easily down the darkened hallway, and beckoned with a single finger for her to follow. She did not even consider not doing so.

Part III

Coffee, Tea, or Me

The corridor twisted and turned, and Hermione took quick steps to keep pace with Snape’s long fluid strides. He was well ahead of her, and rounded a corner, as she paused for just a moment to catch her breath. Her thoughts raced. Where were they going? What would he do? He’d already kissed her, and she’d felt the slow burn begin again in the pit of her stomach, the same burn that she’d tried desperately to forget during those nights when she slept alone in the rooms of the head girl. Well, she thought, I’ve been invited to get what I thought about so many times… It’s true what they say. Be careful what you ask for…

She scurried to catch up, and rounded the corner, almost running into the tall lean man holding open a door for her. A thin smile played about his lips. Severus Snape looked so different with a smile, even if it was the barest hint of one. Hermione concentrated on her toes, her fingers at her sides, anything but his tall form, his slender build… his..

Stop it! her inner voice hissed. You’re mooning like a schoolgirl! she almost rolled her eyes at herself. I WAS a schoolgirl, not so very long ago! shut up!

She looked up at him, noting with a bit of giddy alarm that he still towered over her, and he looked down, arms folded over his chest. “Well, then, Miss Granger. Are you truly following after the most hated teacher at Hogwarts? The vampire professor? Slytherin’s own greasy git?”

He sounded amused, and when she could find no words, he continued, pushing her ahead of him into the room, and shut the door behind them. One hand locked the door as the other began to snake its way up her back. “I am well aware of how the students speak of me. Vampire indeed. How unimaginative.”

Hermione managed a half-smile and a nervous laugh. “You should know sir, that.. um. I never called you… those things.” She blushed, pushing at her hair.

“I wouldn’t imagine you did. Considering the way you looked at me seventh year.” Hermione’s head jerked up, and Snape let out a deep rumbling laugh, placing a hand in the small of her back to usher her farther into the small antechamber. He began to circle her, and she felt very much like a swimmer in shark infested waters… except that if he bit her, ah… She blushed at her own thoughts and went silent. “I notice everything Miss Granger. I would think you would remember that… especially after that particular quiz seventh year…” His eyes roamed to the lower part of her, and Hermione blanched. Snape stopped his circuit of the trembling girl to stand still behind her, tracing his thin fingers over her shoulder blades.

“Oh, yes, little Miss… I noticed. You watched me in classes, during meals. You defended me to no end in front of your insufferable Gryffindor friends. even after the.. incident. Why would a girl do these things for such a deplorable individual, hmm?”

She pressed her palms flat to her sides, closing her eyes as she felt his long fingers trace up her neck to twine in her thick hair, tipping her head back. “Why would you do those things, Miss Granger? Hmm?” Her heart pounded, and she gasped, almost crying out as he nipped her ear. “Could it be, little Miss, that the ever-perfect student fancies her cruel demanding professor?” He laughed deeply as her face went from white to red.

Snape let his fingers slip down her spine underneath the thick fall of her hair. Hermione stood still, stiff, and closed her eyes, her breath quickening. Snape slid his hands down along her sides, and over her hips. He pulled firmly, and let out a low chuckle at her gasp as her hips pressed back into him.

“Yes. I do believe that is the case…” His hands slid to cup her bottom, encased in the tight jeans, and then moved around to slide under the shirt. Strong fingers moved over her breasts, dipping into the top of her bra to flick at her nipples. She whimpered.

“Shhhh..” The sound was soft, and almost gentle, as he teased the tightening nubs. “If you want me stop, Miss Granger, at any time, then say so. Though, I may not believe you.” Snape let one hand slip down over the smooth skin of her belly, leaving the other to pinch gently at the rosy points. Fingers pushed past the waist of her jeans, inching their way down, down, to cup her pussy over her panties.

“Oh! Professor!” Hermione cried, blinking at the invasion. Snape ignored her, his fingers moving to rub at the cleft under the thin fabric. Hermione gasped, leaning back against him, smelling the spicy herbal scent of the potions room on him. She breathed deeply, to take in more of the scent of him as well as to try and still the frantic beating of her heart. She failed utterly at the latter as one finger dipped under the side of her panties to slide into the soft folds underneath. She bit her lip, her eyes closing tight. Her knees trembled as that solitary digit pressed into her, probing gently at the opening hidden deep within.

“What have we here?” he murmured silkily. “You are aroused…” He bent lower, his lips brushing her ear. “You, my dear.. are positively soaking…” Hermione whimpered, blushing scarlet, but nodded and arched, pushing her hips forward onto his hand. Snape laughed again, and pushed his finger further, dipping into the tight hole now, moving slowly within it. Hermione bit her lip hard enough to taste the metallic tang of blood as his fingers worked in her, now dipping deeper, now moving smoothly through the slickness to run over the tight bead at her core.

He felt her lean back heavily against him as her knees threatened to give way. “One thing more, Miss Granger. I am no longer your Professor, so when you address me, you will do so as ‘Sir’. Are we clear?”

When she nodded silently, his hand left her breast to place a sharp slap on the outside of her thigh. She squealed. He smiled. “Out loud, Miss Granger. Always out loud when I ask you a question. Am I understood?” She nodded again, heady with the mix of apprehension and pleasure. Snape sighed and moved to one side, pushing between her shoulder blades to bend her. He placed a quick spank on her right cheek. “Try again.”

Hermione yelped, and quickly added the verbal comment. “Yes, Professor…” Another smack joined the first as his other hand continued to manipulate her, stroking steadily.

“I tire of this, Miss Granger.” His voice was showing signs of amused annoyance, and a volley of quick spanks echoed in the small room. Hermione squealed and squirmed, trying to evade the sharp -but not yet hard- blows. Pausing briefly, he smoothed his hand firmly over her bottom and leaned low to growl in her ear. “Let’s try again, and this time, get it right. You WILL pay attention when I give you instructions!” He straightened and stilled his caressing hand before speaking again. “Are… *smack!* we… *smack!* Clear?” *SMACK!*

Her head swam and she found the correct words as she bounced on her toes. “Oh.. oh, OH! Yes, Sir!” She gasped, eyes closed tight in concentration, trying to keep still and remember the proper phrasing. He ran his palm quickly over the seat of her jeans, and squeezed, delighting in her whimpers. The fingers in her jeans were teasing, touching then retreating. He pulled gently at her shoulder, pulling her upright against him again as strong thin fingers began to move more rhythmically. She opened her mouth in an O, tipping her head back against his chest.

He kept quiet as she let out a strangled cry, her hands crossed tightly over her chest, struggling to keep her feet. Snape pressed himself firmly to her and focused on the pearl at her center. He smiled in silence as her breathy moans and whimpers grew higher and more desperate and shifted his other hand to support her as she cried out in release. Holding her tightly as she trembled against him, he slowly withdrew his hand.

Only when she was breathing more slowly, head tipped to one side in the dreamy reverie of the aftermath, did he let out a soft deep chuckle. He held her close to him as she gained her balance, and finally turned her to face him, tipping her chin up to look into the liquid brown eyes.

She blushed beautifully. “Well done, Miss Granger. That was lovely.” He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Never be afraid of the sounds of passion. I find them quite, quite enchanting.” He smiled gently as he stepped back from her, coolly observing the flush of her cheeks, the still trembling hands held awkwardly at her sides, the slowing of her breath. She noted that the frequency of his smiles was a bit unnerving.

Snape moved fluidly to push a damp strand of hair from her face, his fingertips lingering on the curve of her cheek. “We will have to tie this back. Lovely as it is, I want to see your face next time.” He turned and strode to the other side of the small chamber, beckoning to her as he stepped into the next room.



In the Computer Lab

This story was written by an OBB reader.

Mr. Chavin looked up from his desk at the knock on his door– it was 7pm he was working late, on some new computers. “Come in,” he said, standing and reaching out to shake the hand of the woman who entered. “Susan Jones” She was his neighbor, she was a widow with two boys and lived near the school not too far from his own house.

“Paul Chavin,” she said back to him, completing their introduction. “How are you?”

“I’m doing well, and yourself? What brings you here this evening,” he said, sitting again and then gesturing at the empty seat near him. “Please feel free to have a seat.”

Ms. Jones looked at the chair, then slowly let her gaze find Paul again. “I believe I’ll stand, thank you. I’d like to be direct about a few things, if you don’t mind me getting straight to it.”

The Paul sat up a little straighter, giving Ms. Jones his undivided attention. “Is there a problem? I value conference time for all of my students but I really have only praise for your boys. They are bright, talkative, curious. A real joy to have in class,” he finished. It was cliche, but it was true.

“Yes,” replied Ms. Jones, both hands on the strap of the purse that hung from one of her shoulders. Yes they have been good children with a lot of initiative. They helped build your class website, is that correct?”

“It is,” answered Paul, still not understanding the source of her discomfort.

“A project I assume you have been intimately involved in?” Ms. Jones pressed, her lips tight between the words.

“Well yes,” Paul answered again, though as he spoke he realized that wasn’t entirely accurate. The boys and a few others had taken so quickly to the project when it was introduced, as the semester progressed, he’d offered less and less guidance. In truth, it was sort of nice to have some time in the day that was quiet, where he wasn’t needed for a few short minutes.

“Pull up the website, please,” Ms. Jones said, moving to stand behind Paul so they were both facing the screen of the computer on his desk. Not sure what else to do, the teacher complied. For a few minutes there were only the sounds of soft keyboard clicks, and then a simple but effective webpage popped up. Small tigers danced across the bottom of the screen, the school’s mascot. “Look closely,” she said after a few seconds.

Paul leaned in, as he scrolled slowly down the page, followed by a quick startled motion. “What in the world,” he said in disbelief. What first appeared to be a run of the mill geometric background was actually an intricate pattern of profane words and lewd drawings. It wasn’t obvious at first, but then hard to unsee. “How long has this been up?” He could hear the nerves in his voice as his fingers began typing again, pulling up the editing software he needed to change the page.

“I noticed it yesterday,” Ms. Jones answered. “I just decided to come and see if you were here.”

Paul’s ears burned but he kept the bulk of his attention on the computer screen, where he quickly replaced the offending file with a solid dark blue. He actually remembered seeing the email but hadn’t opened it. He clicked upload, then went back to scanning the site for anything else that would be a problem.

As he worked, Ms. Jones stepped back around to the other side of the desk. “I’ve already spoken to the boys,” she said, placing the pads of her fingers on the edge of the desk and leaning forward, her voice hard. “And I expect you will speak to the others involved tomorrow.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Paul answered, his default setting extremely polite as most of his attention went to the computer screen. It seemed unlikely than many people would have visited their little classroom site– in fact he could see that few people had from their statistics page– but the last thing he wanted was to end up as some twitter main character because a group of kids threw up a bunch of curse words and penises on a page linked to the school’s main website.

“There’s nothing else,” Ms. Jones said firmly. Paul looked up at her, face still warm with both nerves and embarrassment. He felt small under her gaze, a feeling strengthened as she spoke further. “The entire thing was sneaky, and bold, and childish,” she said. “But of course, they are children. It’s the sort of thing we can expect children to do. It is also the sort of thing I would have expected you to catch, Mr. Chavin.”

“Please, call me Paul,” he replied weakly, not sure what else to say. She was right, he should have caught it. It wasn’t so cunning that he wouldn’t have noticed it with even the smallest bit of supervision.

“I don’t think this makes the boys, or any of the others, bad students. It certainly doesn’t make them any less clever. But no student does well when they aren’t offered any guidance.”

Paul felt himself shrinking under her stern gaze and wished he had some sort of defense for himself, but he had none. He was a good teacher, but in this instance he had been neglectful.

“You’re lucky there weren’t larger consequences, you could lose your job” Ms. Jones continued, as if reading his mind. “He knew this is the sort of thing that could have gotten out of hand very quickly.”

Again Paul could do nothing but agree. The shock of the many worst case scenarios flashing through his mind almost kept him from being surprised at Ms. Jones’s next move. She reached into her purse and pulled out a red paddle. “I don’t…” he said unsteadily, looking around the classroom, though for what he wasn’t sure. “We don’t…” he began again.

Ms. Jones spoke before he could find an end to his sentence. “I believe in corporal punishment Paul,” she said firmly. I think you’ve more than earned it. Don’t you agree?”

There were several seconds in which her question went unanswered, and then slowly and against all of his instincts, Paul nodded. His hands slipped from the keyboard, and he looked slowly up to make eye contact. He was oddly lifted to see that she was pleased with him.

“I appreciate a young man who understands how to take responsibility,” she said, standing to her full height once again. “Go ahead and pull your chair out from behind the desk, please.”
“Now get your trousers and underpants around your ankles and lie over my lap. You, my boy, are in for a spanking.”

I stood rooted to the spot. at first I couldn’t believe my ears, but her look of impatience hurried me up. I undid my belt and with one motion pulled down both my trousers and underpants. Thankfully Mrs Jones chose not to notice my half-erect penis, instead she just patted her lap. I tottered over and slowly began to lower myself over her. She impatiently grabbed my arm tugging me down firmly. I felt a hand, wonderfully cool to the touch rearrange my penis so that it was lying trapped between her open thighs. I am going to squeeze and tease your penis while I spank your ass, she announced.

“Normally I expect to use just the paddle, but because it is you I think I will use my hand as well,”she said. With that there was the brief coolness of her hand’s absence, and then it landed again with a loud smack and his spanking was suddenly underway. He clenched his jaw against the sounds his body wished to make but he couldn’t stop his toes from pushing against the floor or the sharp eeks the rubber of his shoes made against the tile. He was surprised by how hard her hand was, though he wasn’t sure what he had expected. Nothing about this night was going like it was supposed to. He thought he’d be packing up to go home right now, not belly down across the knee of a parent.

A life of playing tennis had turned this woman into quite a powerful spanker, as my bottom quickly found out. The spanks were hard and fast, covering every area of my bottom. Very soon I was wriggling around, as the pain increased on my bare bum. The same time my wriggling was teasing my penis between her thighs to stay hard.

“Please Mrs Jones! I’m really sorry!”.

“Not quite enough.” Her spanks continued for a little while longer, before finally, thankfully, she stopped. She ran her hands over my bottom for a moment,vsqueezing and rubbing my cheeks, while shifting her thighs and teasing my penis.

I so desperate to please her, to like me again; I couldn’t bear to disappoint her again. I knew the paddle was coming and tried to get ready for it.

Just as the heat was starting to subside, Mrs Jones picked up the red paddle. I looked nervously at the paddle she was holding, as she moved me over to center me, on her lap. I felt the paddle resting on the small of my back and its weight sent a shiver down my spine.

“Now Paul, this is going to really hurt, you take this spanking and everything will be alright.” Her words were soft and reassuring, it felt so right to be over the lap of this wonderful woman.


The pain stunned me. It was incredible, far, far worse than the hand spanking.


I couldn’t take it, it was too much. She paused between each smack to shift her thighs and rub my ass, it was so good.

The last two were the worst of the lot. My bottom throbbed angrily, my penis pulsed btween her thighs. I twitched around, desperate for some signal that it was okay for me to reach up and touch my ass. Then I felt Mrs Jones’s hands caressing my heated buttocks. As the soft strokes began to soothe my burning bottom I finally began to relax. There I remained for several minutes, it felt so wonderful, I didn’t want it to end absorbing her gentler touches and kinder words as she comforted me. Then slowly and a bit unsteadily, I  got to my feet, grabbing for my jeans pulling them up. I met Ms. Jones’s eyes and cast my gaze downward, bashful. “Thank you,” I said quietly.

“Now give me a hug.”she said

I reached over to hug her tightly. She patted me affectionately on the back.

“You’re a very good teacher, Paul,” Ms. Jones said. “I’m sure I would have been up here at the school much earlier otherwise. Everyone slips up from time to time. I am glad we set things right again.”

“You did very well,” she replied, returning the paddle to her purse. Paul picked up his chair and moved it back to its usual home. He stood there for a moment, hands on the seat back, clutching it tightly to prevent himself from rubbing his bottom. She looked up at him and continued, “I feel confident we can take care of any issue, again when needed.”

“Yes ma’am,” he answered politely. I am a widow prehaps you could come for dinner next friday night, she said. I will be happy to, Paul replied.

He walked toward the classroom door and Ms. Jones followed, then exited when he opened the door. “Thank you again,” he said as she stood in the hallway and he meant it. She nodded graciously, see you at 6 on friday and don’t be late. The moment the door closed, Paul’s hands found his bottom. “Yowch,” he sighed happily. I think Ms. Jomes would be happy to give me a spanking at our dinner if I ask, he thought to himself and the empty computer lab.

He gathered himself again, returned to his desk, and began to pack up to go home.

Broken, At Last

She draws him a map that even a guy can read.

“It’s not fair,” I suddenly cry out breaking the calm intensity I had in my voice only moments ago. “Why do you torment me this way?” He smiled at my quick change of attitude.

I closed my eyes. I wanted his strong commanding hands to fondle and touch me, to play with my soul, to play with my mind that was his alone in this darkness. Soon I felt the back of his hand stroke my face and then felt his lips brush softly against my cheek. His hand was slowly edging down towards my treasures, rubbing his hand all over my stomach, sending electric charges through me as he did so. Then his hand nudged between my slightly parted legs. He caressed the hairs and the outside folds of my pussy. He slid a finger gently and slowly within me, a sensation I loved.

As much as I wanted to fight it, I held my position still for him.

Moving or shivering might well bring swift punishment to my bottom – his bottom right now, his to punish as he saw fit.

The moment passed and I felt his hand move away from my body. I stood even more still now, trying to concentrate and think of nothing, for fear that if I thought of the wrong thing, I might find myself aroused to such an extent that I could not keep still at all. Suddenly, I felt a small cold object touch my stomach. The object was soft and stingy. “It’s his crop,” I thought “it has to be.”

The object tickled and stroked my soft naked body, flicking and giving rise to chills that went through my body as it did so. Soon, it was there between my legs. I hated it. No loved it, but the hate came from my knowledge of what he intended to do with it. He flicked it suddenly against my inner thigh. A motion he made; a motion for me to carry out. I spread my legs and he tapped the fine leather tip upwards against my pussy. The stinging sensation was intensified by the moisture that was now accumulating between my lips.

I swallowed, realizing my mistake. I felt him run a finger through my damp curls and almost sobbed. He was discovering the deepest secret I had. My arousal from the thought of giving up control. My arousal at the thought of being forced to submit…and allowing myself to submit……… I gave an involuntary cry when the crop made sharp contact with the smooth sensitive skin of my thigh.

He walked around me until he was positioned directly behind me. His hands lay gently on my hips and he kissed my neck. His lips were soft and warm. As his lips left my neck, I felt his hot breath in my ear as he whispered, “Very good, my little one. Now let me tell you what I intend to do.”

The words echoed in my brain and sent a shiver down my back. It could just have been the whisper of a draft I felt or the way his gaze had fixed into a cold hard frozen stare. I did not know what he had intended to do. For months I had been sending him e-mails, stories about what lay hidden in the recesses of my mind and soul. Dark pockets of mystery I longed to share with someone.

But to expose myself in that way would make me feel more vulnerable than any spanking could ever. He saw me watching him and reprimanded me for my curiosity.

“No my dear, mustn’t know more than I choose to reveal to you.”

“Why not?”

“Isn’t that the game you’ve been playing with me all this time?”

“No,” I tried to explain, ” I mean, I have always been afraid to reveal myself to you or anyone. When the physical body gets hurt, it heals. Pierce my heart, open my soul, get me to reveal secrets, then I have nothing left to offer. The physical is nothing; the spiritual is everything. My spirit would never heal from the hurt if someone rejected what I needed. And if it did heal, it would leave scars so unbearable.”

“Close your eyes and look inward little one,” and he stepped behind me and wrapped something around my head and in front of my eyes. The luminescent candlelight disappeared and I saw the darkness totally – a world void of all light.

“See the darkness, feel the darkness let it take you in. You feel safest in the dark little one?”

“Yes” I had always felt safe in the dark. I never understood why, but as my heart has started to reveal secrets to my mind, it has all begun to make sense.

“Raise your hands over your head.” Why I agreed to do this, still astounds me. But his deep calm voice reassured me. I took a deep breath and slowly raised my arms until they were overhead. He wrapped something loosely around my wrists and then pulled. I felt my arms strain as they were pulled together. I felt the cuffs being locked around my ankles and knew there was a bar that would keep my legs apart. Blindfolded and bound, I felt a loss of all control. No one knew I was there and yet for some reason, I felt at peace letting this man control me. Why? I hadn’t known him that long and yet, for some reason I trusted him. My senses had become extremely heightened. I listened to his presence. I could sense his body moving and
could hear his shallow breathing. I heard his feet walking and brushing against the hardwood floor. I heard him pick something up and flail it
through the air and hit the bed. It wasn’t the cane. The cane WHOOSHED, but only the crop had the accompanying WHAP! Why would he pick up the crop again?

My breathing became heavier and deeper as I realized my complete nakedness and was at his mercy. My buttocks exposed, my breasts unharnessed, my pussy bare.

He walked around behind me and rubbed the leather tip up and down my thigh again and then struck it in the inner middle. I clenched my teeth and almost lost my balance. “Stay in position, m’lady”

I heard the WHOOSH again but the resounding and accompanying WHAP didn’t come from the chair, but from my bottom. The stinging after effect was almost unbearable and I could feel the tears building up under my blindfold. He took his hand and rubbed my bottom. Then he took the crop and rubbed it up and down the middle of my back. From the top of my shoulder blades to the tip of my tailbone. Up and down methodically. He started flicking the crop against my back increasing intensity with each lick.

I felt my whole body beginning to ache from the love and pleasure he was giving me as well as from the pain from the rigid stance I had to maintain.

Abruptly, the command to turn around came in his quiet firm voice. I turned stiffly and slowly in the spreader bar, as he liked me to do, so that he could see each angle of my body. I could sense that he had his eyes locked on me as though they were guiding me around. Then, without warning, I was pushed over the edge of the bed.

When he deemed me ready, he went to fetch the whip. I wanted his whip; the whip that was quite firm yet soft, that would burn and punish me as I longed to be punished. His whip could make me feel his dominating power as he whipped me, causing me to be compliant to his every command. My body was beginning to tense up as I remembered back to the days I only fantasized about when I was a little girl. Abruptly my memories dissolved, as I was brought back to reality with a short sharp sting to my bottom. The fire began to spread from my bottom to my nether region.

Standing silently, I could hear the swishing sound as the whip came down again and again on each cheek. Then the rush of it as he propelled it in an upward movement, snaking between my legs to sting my secret spot and make it tingle. Slicing through the silence, the whip then struck my back and my legs obediently opened to the whip.

This was not as severe a whipping as he could have given me, but one that pushed me to my limits all the same. Hard, then soft, then quick strokes all over my body. Sometimes, only the very tips of the
whip caught me; other times I felt the entire leather strand of lashes. All I could feel was a stinging everywhere all over my body. So quick was the speed with which he applied the whipping that I was almost melting. It stung between my bottom cheeks and into my most intimate spots. He continued to speak in low, hushed tones; repeating over and over that this was something he needed to do. Something to get me compliant. That this punishment was intended to make me feel his love and concern, as expressed by the lash that was relentlessly coming down.

The final lash landed with such force it pushed me hard against the bed. I wailed as I broke into sobbing, begging for forgiveness, brokenly promising, over and over that I would be good. I hung there, limp and shivering as he put down the whip and bent to unlock my feet. He walked softly around to untie my hands and returned to stand behind me, rubbing my back gently as I wept. Strong hands grasped my waist, lifting me gently to my feet and steering me, once again, to an upright position in front of the bed. He sat down next to me, smiling at me and holding out his arms. I collapsed into his lap, curling up tightly and crying against his chest, his arms enfolding me lovingly. I clung to him,
telling him over and over how sorry I was, and how I would never break his rules again. I would never treat him with such disrespect again. He smiled, kissing me softly and stroking my face tenderly. He would never understand how deep this session had touched my soul. Perhaps he will never know…………….

Beverly and the Principal

This has been aging for two decades on my computer. I have it marked as being by Will Henry. Reading it today, I am not sure he wrote it.

It’s a long read

The “schoolgirl” stood nervously in front of the desk as the Principal lectured her about her behavior. She wore an abbreviated plaid skirt that ended several inches above the knee, displaying the taut lines of her shapely legs. Her breasts pushed against the tight white blouse in front and her pert bottom jutted out in back. Her hands were behind her back and she shuffled nervously from foot to foot. The principal finished the scolding and slid open a drawer. Inside was a short wooden paddle. It had a legend on it that said “Heat for the Seat”. He pointed to the desk.

The schoolgirl reluctantly leaned over, placing her elbows on the desk. The Principal moved to her rear, gripping the little paddle. Placing it under his arm, he used both hands to raise the schoolgirl’s skirt in back. He paused a moment to admire the plump and shapely bottom clad in brief white panties. Tucking the paddle under his arm to free his hands, The Principal placed his thumbs in the elastic of the panties and, ignoring the protests from the “schoolgirl”, drew them down to her knees. The unveiling revealed the lush rounded globes of a most shapely posterior. He patted the lush cheeks then stood to her side and tapped her with the paddle. Then he drew back his arm.

Three months earlier…..

The envelope from the school was thick—too thick to be good news. Beverly decided to go inside and make a cup of coffee before she even dared open it. Now sitting in her breakfast nook she sighed and slit the bulky package. “Damn!” she muttered. Another referral notice telling her that Haley, her sixteen-year-old daughter was in trouble yet again. This was the fourth one in as many months. This time it was another tardy. She hadn’t bothered to go to her 6th-period history class after gym, so she’d been awarded another detention. But there was more. As she sifted through the papers she reflected on the whys of Hailey’s conduct this year.

The divorce had been hard on them all. After years of constant bickering over every little thing she and Rick had called it quits. They were too different—irreconcilable differences. It was a no-go. Beverly moved from the sophistication of Dallas to the smaller town of Hot Springs, Arkansas that had job opportunities in her field, which was hospitality. Haley had hated the move. She lost all of her friends and now had to start all over in a culture very different from the city. And it had led to acting out. Around the house, Haley sulked. She either talked back or was sullen and moody.

It had been a shock to Beverly. Haley had been a straight A student, never a sign of trouble, no boys issues, drugs, or even profanity. She had been a quiet good girl, serious about her studies. And that was in spite of the fact that she was cute as a button and attracted considerable male attention. Now Haley seemed adrift. There was no major trouble yet, but if this reckless behavior of hers wasn’t stopped, there would be. Beverly was no disciplinarian, she’d never had to be. From the looks of things in this packet though, the school was stepping in.

The fact was, Beverly had to admit to herself, she had been inadequate to control Haley’s behavior because she was having trouble controlling her own. Chores went undone. The house was a mess. She worked all day, went to her gym, came home and collapsed. Bills were paid late if at all. She realized she’d been hitting the wine bottle heavier and heavier lately. Trying to numb out? She pulled a sheaf of papers from the envelope. There was a notice calling for a parent conference with Ward McCollum, the principal. That sounded serious. It would be Friday afternoon. Damn, she’d have to take off from work.

There was another form, a different color. It was a permission form. It said “Corporal Punishment Consent Form”. Stapled to it was a one-page sheet that said “Corporal Punishment Policies and Procedures.” My word, thought Beverly—what was this? As she read further, the meaning became apparent. Having been given three detentions now for various infractions, Haley was now subject to corporal punishment should a fourth appear. She read the letter from the school signed by Principal McCollum. It said that Haley could be suspended for this last infraction. In lieu of suspension, she could submit to corporal punishment. This was to be one of the subjects to be taken up at the conference. Hence, the permission form and the guidelines.

Her mouth agape, Bev read on. Punishment was meted out with a paddle. The normal penalty is six swats. The student was to wear slacks or jeans as normal, with no extra padding. A witness from the school staff would be present and parents could be present, and in fact, they were encouraged to be there. Good grief, it had all the grim formality of a hanging.

Bev put the letter down. What should she do? It was her decision as a parent. Haley probably wouldn’t mind the suspension. Maybe she wouldn’t even care. They had never raised a hand to Haley—it hadn’t been necessary. But as things had turned out she was now falling. Where would it end? Bev set her jaw. Maybe a short sharp shock right now would turn things around.

She would think about it. She hadn’t been able to parent very effectively, lost as she was in her own problems and self-pity. It was really her fault that it got to this point with Haley. Her thoughts were interrupted by the clunk of the door opening and footsteps. It was Haley.

“Do you know what this is?” asked Beverly, thrusting the packet toward her. Haley’s face changed abruptly from a bright teenager to chagrinned teenager. She had known intuitively what the packet was – a notice from the school. “We have to meet with Principal McCollum on Friday afternoon. And I’m afraid there is worse news, Haley.”

Haley squirmed, her expression was both guilty and apprehensive. “Under the school rules, you can be paddled for this.” That got Haley’s attention.

“What? Paddled? You can’t be serious!” Haley was incredulous. She had heard stories here and there, but it was always about someone else.

“I’m afraid so, Haley. It’s the fourth detention. Skipping class. Where were you? You weren’t off school grounds were you?”

Haley’s guilty look told Beverly she’d hit the nail on the head. “You left the school in the middle of the day? To go where?” Bev was angry now.

“It was nothing, mother. Just to the drive-in, then right back.” Haley was wheedling now, wringing her hands, which she realized had been caught in the proverbial cookie jar.

“I’m of half a mind to sign this ‘permission to paddle’ form right now, Haley Elizabeth.”

Haley’s expression changed from concern to horror. “Oh, mother, no please don’t. I’d just die.” She put her hands up as if warding off an evil spell.

Bev pursed her lips and shook her head. “I’m going to think about this, Haley, and I’ll decide when we meet with principal McCollum.”

What Beverly was really thinking about was her own culpability. A paddling. What would that feel like? If Haley were to be paddled, I should be paddled too, she mused grimly. It’s almost as much my fault as hers. If I’d been a better wife, and a better mother, maybe this would not have turned out this way. The very idea was oddly intriguing, but she didn’t understand why. Beverly’s experience with any type of physical punishment was limited to a few swats on the backside from an irate mother. In her family scolding and being sent to her room had been the means of discipline.

The principal, Ward McCollum, was, in Beverly’s opinion, a pretty good-looking male. Beverly had met him at a parent-teacher conference. They had talked for a time and she had been impressed.

She had also heard that he was a bachelor. And he seemed very nice. It was hard to envision him as a stern disciplinarian wielding a wooden paddle. Still, she had this thought and she could not let it go.

The more she thought about it, the more she became convinced that maybe she needed something like this to get her to wake up. She made up her mind. She would talk to the principal before the meeting.

As things are wont to do, serendipity intervened. In this case at the local food mart. Several days later she was shopping for groceries. There in the checkout line was Ward McCollum. He saw her and smiled. “Mrs. Clawson, how are you?” She felt slightly flustered. He was definitely an attractive man.

Beverly nervously brushed her hair back. Did she look ok? Bev knew she was a good-looking woman. At 5’6”, she had auburn hair that fell below her shoulders and a 35-23-36 figure that she kept in good shape at a local gym.

“Oh, Mr. McCollum. I didn’t see you,” she lied. “I’m uh, fine.”

He came forward. “Please, it’s Ward. We’re too small a community here to be formal.”

“Yes, of course, ah, Ward. Please call me Bev.” Good grief, she was fluttering like one of his schoolgirls.

“Let’s see, your daughter is Haley, right? Say would you join me for a cup of coffee? I know you got that letter, and well, I’d like to talk to you about it, informally, if it’s ok.”

Bev thought this was a chance to raise something she’d been mulling over. “Sure. I’ll just check out.”

“There’s a shop on the next corner. I’ll meet you there.”

They got a table in the coffee shop and exchanged pleasantries for a few moments. Then Ward said, “I know what’s on your mind. It’s the letter and our upcoming conference, isn’t it?”

Bev had been mulling the matter over ever since the letter had arrived, and now she had to ask. “About my daughter Haley, yes. In your letter you said that normally a student would get a paddling for the fourth offense, is that right?”

McCollum sighed and nodded. “Yes. It’s not something we like to do, but sometimes we run out of options and a short, sharp shock is what is called for. Haley, unfortunately, has reached that threshold.

I don’t like to recommend corporal punishment, but we do have standards. It’s got to be that or a suspension.”

Beverly shook her head. “I just can’t deal with a suspension, and it would set Haley back too much. So, this paddling, just how many paddle swats is it and what is it like?”

“For this, six. The student bends across the desk. I apply the swats right on the round part of the sit spot. I will tell you it hurts, but they get over it in a day or two.”

Beverly sat there, thinking. “It’s my fault she got in this trouble. I’ve been preoccupied with myself. I’ve let things go with Haley.”

“Look, Mrs….”

“Please, Mr. McCollum, Ward… it’s Beverly. We never laid a hand on Haley. She’s never even had a spanking. She’s always been very well behaved.”

McCollum said earnestly, “Ok, Beverly, but, look, you can’t beat yourself up. Sometimes kids do things. It’s up to us adults to put them back on the right path…even if it’s sometimes painful, both for us and for them.”

Beverly had told herself she was going to propose this crazy idea. Well, here he was, and here she was. She said, “Yes, yes, I know but….look, if I ask you something, will you promise not to think I’m a complete kook?”

“Sure. Ask away.”

Bev took a deep breath. “Before I consign Haley to this, ah, punishment, I need to know…”

“You need to know what Beverly?” Ward was perplexed. Where was this headed? She seemed flustered.

Bev looked at him shyly and said, “I need to know what I’d be getting her into. Whether she could handle it, both emotionally and physically. You see, I’m as much to blame and I couldn’t approve this punishment unless I….”

Ward looked at her with arched eyebrows.

“…unless I experienced it first.” There. She got it out on the table.

Ward sat back. Ran his hand through his hair. “Well, Bev, that is certainly one unusual request.” He was silent for a minute, thinking.

Bev jumped in. “I’ve given it a lot of thought. It’s something I need to do.”

Ward cleared his throat. “It’s six licks with a wooden paddle firmly applied to the seat. Uh, do you maybe have a friend who could…?”

“No,” said Bev, calmly. “I’ve thought about it, and I want you to do it.” She had already decided this. If it was to be real, she wanted the authority figure who would paddle her daughter to paddle her as well.

Ward absorbed this little declaration with a bit of a shock. “I, uh, really Bev, this is, well, highly unusual, wouldn’t you say?”

But Bev was all business now. “I know it is, but I insist. It’s necessary.”

Ward pursed his lips. It hadn’t escaped his attention that Beverly was very attractive and the idea of such a scene with an adult woman, well…

“I’ll tell you what. I hate to go all legal and everything but if you sign…”

She interrupted. “I’ll sign anything you want. I need you to do this so I can decide about Haley. Please.”

Ward finally agreed. It would be a standard school paddling. They would do it after hours on Thursday, then Bev would decide on the permission slip, suspension or paddling, by their meeting the following day.

What do you wear to a paddling, thought Bev? She was nervous but determined to go through with it, at least for Haley’s sake. That way she could tell herself that she hadn’t put her daughter through anything that she hadn’t experienced too. And there was the nagging guilt—that it was partly her fault.

She finally decided on workout tights. She’d be coming back from her gym class anyway, so she might as well meet him in her gym tights. No real need to change.

On Thursday after her workout, she checked her appearance. She wore her normal workout gear— black knee-length stretch tights and a top. They fitted her hourglass figure like a glove, she decided, looking back over her shoulder into the mirror. The rounded twin globes of her bottom were clearly defined and separated by the tight synthetic fabric. For a top, she wore a halter. Well, I guess that will give him a good target, she sighed. Time to go.

The school parking lot was empty when she got there. It was nearly seven o’clock. Only one other car—his. Nervously, she walked in. She could see a light on in the office. She knocked.

“Is that you, Mrs. Clawson, er, Beverly?” asked a voice from within.

“Um, y-yes, it’s me.” Cripes! This was crazy, she was now thinking.

Ward came to the door and motioned her to come in. “Please, come on in. Let’s talk.” Beverly entered and sat down in the chair in front of his desk. It seemed intimidating. She now had a feeling of what a student might feel like called in to account for some bit of bad behavior.

“Well, I see you actually came. I have to ask, are you sure you want to go through with this?”

Beverly shook her head, yes. “I feel as though I must—for two reasons, really. First, I want to know what this will be like for Haley, this paddling. And second, despite what you may think, Haley’s acting out is my fault in a big way. So, yes, let’s get on with it.”

Ward studied her for a moment. “Well, I’m done trying to talk you out of it, and I do understand, and if this is what it takes, then, well—ah, stand up and slip your jacket off.” Ward stood. Sexy and authoritative men made her all fluttery, and Ward was no exception. Beverly rose and took her warm-up jacket off, revealing her curvy body clad now in tights and a halter top. Ward did a double take.

The lady had curves in all the right places. He turned and moved toward the wall. Beverly hadn’t noticed, but now she did. There was a paddle hanging on the wall by a leather loop. Ward retrieved it.

“Standard two-foot maple paddle. Four inches wide, three-quarters of an inch thick.” He showed it to her. Beverly gulped. It looked serious. This was going to hurt. She took it in her hands. It felt heavy.

She handed it back. Ward took it.

“OK, Beverly, what I want you to do is bend forward over the desk right here, supported on your elbows, palms down flat. Feet about a foot apart.” He watched as she bent forward. The posture thrust her shapely posterior outward in an almost indecent pose. Wow, did this lady have a figure or what? Her heart-shaped bottom was clearly defined in the tight stretch pants. He took the paddle and moved to her left, took up a stance and pressed the wood against the jutting rump. She flinched, then settled back down as he gently tapped her bottom with the paddle.

“Now, please stay still, Beverly. Best to look straight ahead.” He rubbed the paddle on her bottom in circles, measuring.

Beverly tried to calm herself. This was it. “I’m ready,” she said.

Ward drew back and brought the paddle forward in a smooth arc. Whack! It landed square across the center of Beverly’s bottom.

“Ah…ohhhh….my God!” It had stung like fire. A hot brand right across her seat. She’d had no idea!

Whack! The second swat fell. She flinched, partially raising up.

“Ohhh…..whew! That stings.” The burning was quite intense.

“I know it does, Beverly. This is what it’s like. Stay still now, here’s number three.” Ward drew back his arm again and pivoted forward, the blade whooshing through the still air of the office. Splat! The paddle impacted the shapely rump again making her wriggle involuntarily.

“Yeow!” She had to let out a wail, it stung so bad. Her eyes were tearing up.

Ward noticed how her ass cheeks quivered when the paddle hit. The tights looked painted on, and the twin globes of her luscious bottom were clearly outlined. To steady her, Ward put his hand in the small of her back. Then he delivered the fourth smack to her burning bottom. She cried out again and stamped her feet as if that could somehow relieve the awful burning.

“Only two more,” said Ward. “Are you ready? Can you take this?”

Beverly composed herself as best she could. “Yes, I can take it,” she gasped. Her bottom was burning hot, but she felt somewhat at peace, being rightfully punished for her inattention to her daughter’s needs.

Whap! The fifth swat was the most painful yet and Beverly let out a wail and wagged her behind shamelessly. The sight of the paddle bouncing off of the bottom of this mature well-formed woman in tights was causing Ward to be seriously aroused. Better finish this, he thought.

Smack! The last swat echoed off the walls.

“Owww!….ohhh, my God!” Beverly raised up on tiptoe. Her behind was blazing like it been branded.

“Ok,” said Ward. “It’s over. You can get up. Please let me help you.”

Bev rose on unsteady legs. Her behind was on fire, her eyes filled with tears. She rubbed her bottom.

“Ah…ah…ah…” she gulped.

“Beverly, would you like a tissue?” Ward was now very solicitous.

“Yes, yes.” She took the tissue and wiped her eyes.

“The restroom is just down the hall if you want,” offered Ward.

“I’m ok,” she fluttered. “Just give me a minute.” Her seat was blazing hot and felt swollen. She decided to stop rubbing and even tried to sit down but thought better of it.

Ward put the paddle back on the hook. “That is the standard school paddling, Beverly. Just like a student would get. Although in your case I think you had less protection. Most kids wear jeans over underwear.” It hadn’t escaped his notice that under the thin spandex there had been no panty line. She’d probably worn a thong.

Beverly blushed at the implication. She found her voice. “I’m ok, and although it hurt a great deal, I’m ok. I don’t regret doing it.”

“Well, I’m glad of that,” said Ward.

Later she felt as if the pain had cleansed her in some way. It faded to a warm glow, but she was sore for a while. Soon other thoughts intruded into her consciousness, sexy thoughts involving a certain handsome principal.

Friday afternoon came too soon for Haley. She was seated in the office at 3:30 waiting for her mother and looking very apprehensive. Beverly eventually arrived and the school secretary ushered them into the principal’s office. She smiled at Ward McCollum to let him know there were no hard feelings from the previous day. Just checking, she glanced at his left hand. There was no ring. She looked at his desk and credenza, but there were no pictures of a wife or children. Ward McCollum was indeed a bachelor.

“Haley, Mrs. Clawson, please sit.” Ward gestured, then picked up a file. As he leafed through it he frowned. “Haley, this indicates a fourth detention in only three months. We have a serious issue here. Do you have any explanation for your behavior?”

Haley’s response was typical teenager—a shrug, a lame excuse or two and a denial of responsibility.

McCollum sighed. “Haley, please wait outside while I speak with your mother.” When she had shut the door behind her, McCollum began. “I know we talked a little yesterday but can you tell me what is going on with her? I notice from her record at her previous school she was an A student with no adverse behavior record. I checked.”

Beverly told him more about Haley’s problems with the divorce and the move. McCollum listened patiently, asking a question or two, but mostly letting her get it all out. Beverly found that she liked talking to this man. He really was kind and sympathetic. McCollum nodded. “I do understand how you feel, Beverly, but if I may say so, Haley has to stop feeling sorry for herself and move on.” Beverly nodded. He was right.

“What I’m going to say now is going to be hard for you to hear, but I think the situation calls for it. Haley has been treated with kid gloves for too long. It’s time the gloves came off and she resumes growing up. That means accepting consequences. Beverly, I’m going to recommend that you sign that corporal punishment form. Since you, ah, know what it’s like, you can make an informed decision now, but my advice is to sign it.”

Beverly’s head snapped up. Oh yeah, she knew now. It had hurt like blazes, but once the initial shock had worn off, it hadn’t been so bad. And for her at least there was something else. The glow in her nether regions had transformed into something sexual. She’d wandered around in an aroused state replaying the incident over and over in her head. While she was woolgathering, Ward had continued.

“I think Haley should be paddled. I really do. It is what happens here when we see this pattern of offenses, and it is the normal consequence. If you don’t, I’ll have to suspend her and that will impact her grades. Because of…yesterday, you, ahem, know what’s involved, so you can assess whether she can take it.”

Of course, she could take it. A sharp sting, that’s all it was, and it would put Haley back on the right path. “I think she can,” said Beverly. “If I can take it, so can she. I don’t want her suspended and just left home alone. But Haley has never been spanked or anything. She’s always been a good girl.”

McCollum smiled sympathetically. “And she will be again, but all youngsters have to learn that flouting rules brings penalties and she doesn’t get a pass just because life has been tough lately.”

Beverly had to agree. She signed the form. They called Haley back in. “Haley, your mother and I have decided. You will not be suspended from school. Instead, you are going to receive the paddle—six swats. Right here. Right now.”

Haley’s head swung around to look at her mother incredulously. “Mother, you didn’t! How could you?” The color drained out of her face. Principal McCollum sat there impassively.

“I’m sorry, Haley, but you brought this on yourself. A suspension is not possible. I can’t come home to supervise you during the day.” She looked at her daughter earnestly and took her hand, holding it with both of hers. “I’m sorry Haley, but you will just have to take your licks.”

Haley was shocked that it had come to this. She sat there barely breathing as McCollum buzzed his secretary. “Mrs. Frankel, can you come in? We need a witness. Oh, and bring the book.” McCollum stood and rolled up his right sleeve. Mrs. Frankel entered.

“All right Haley, stand up.” Haley stood as if in a daze. “Lean on the desk, on your elbows, palms flat. Look at that circle on the wall.” Indeed Beverly saw there was a piece of paper stuck to the wall with a circle inscribed on it. Haley assumed the position. She was wearing tight jeans and the bent posture thrust her buttocks out, the jeans clearly delineating the rounded globes of her youthful bottom.

The wooden paddle was hanging on the wall, right where it had been the day before. McCollum unhooked it and moved to Haley’s rear.

“Haley, it will be six swats. Do not move out of position. If you do we may have to do that one over. Keep perfectly still. Feet a little more apart.” Haley shuffled her feet. “That’s right.” The principal measured the distance, patting Haley’s behind gently with the paddle. He drew back and brought his arm forward in a smooth motion, like he’d done this before.

Crack! the paddle smacked the seat of Haley’s jeans.

“Ow!” Haley’s yelp confirmed how that paddle could burn.

“That’s one,” said McCollum. He drew back again.

Crack! Another swat struck Haley’s bottom.

“Yeow…oh!” Haley shifted her weight from one foot to the other. McCollum waited a minute then drew back again.

Crack! Haley stood on tiptoe and wailed, “ahhh….ow!..nng!”

To Beverly it was an intense eye-opening scene. On the one hand she felt for her poor daughter. From the sound of it, it must sting atrociously. Hell, she knew it did. But it didn’t look like he was hitting that hard. He had this medium-slow smooth delivery with a little wrist flick at the end. Then she understood. He didn’t hit hard on purpose. It was just enough to generate a sharp sting, just enough pain so the student would know that there are consequences. From the other side of the desk, Beverly heard sobs. She knew what it felt like. Her own bottom tingled in silent sympathy.

“Three more, Haley.” The principal hefted the paddle, swung his arm in a sideways arc. Crack! It was sharp like a gunshot.

“Ow…ow….oh…my…” yelped Haley bobbing up and down slightly.

“Steady, now. Only two more, Haley.”

Haley actually said, “Yes, sir,” and bent back down.

Crack! Crack! The last two came rapidly. Haley lifted up on tiptoe and let out a wail.

“All right, you can stand up now.” Beverly breathed again. It was done. Haley stood, vigorously rubbing her bottom. She had tears in her eyes. “Sit down if you want, but you need to sign the book.”

Haley stood. Apparently one had to sign for the swats like it was a receipt or something. Haley signed and Beverly hugged her daughter. Then she actually shook hands with Mr. McCollum. It was as if something dark had lifted. Not much was said on the way home. Haley went to her room.

Beverly came in later and asked if she could rub cold cream on Haley’s bottom. Haley said that would be nice. Her butt was red but not bruised. Haley said the cold cream helped.

Beverly was left alone with her thoughts. She could not get the scene in the principal’s office out of her mind. As the weekend passed Beverly noted that the paddling seemed to have produced a catharsis in Haley. She was less sullen, more her old self. A short sharp shock. It had apparently worked.

One week later…

The sexy-looking adult woman in the attire of a teenage schoolgirl stood nervously in front of the desk as the Principal lectured her about her behavior. She wore an abbreviated plaid skirt that ended several inches above the knee, displaying the taut lines of her legs. Her breasts pushed against the tight white blouse in front and her pert bottom jutted out in back. Her hands were behind her back and she shuffled nervously from foot to foot. The principal finished the scolding and slid open a drawer.

Inside was a short wooden paddle. It had a legend on it that said “Heat for the Seat”. He pointed to the desk. The schoolgirl leaned over placing her elbows on the desk. The Principal moved to her rear, gripping the little paddle. Placing it under his arm he raised the schoolgirl’s skirt in back to reveal a plump and shapely bottom clad in brief white panties. The Principal placed his thumbs in the elastic of the panties and ignoring the protests from the schoolgirl, drew them down to her knees. The unveiling revealed the lush rounded globes of a shapely posterior. He patted the lush cheeks then stood to her side and tapped her with the paddle. Then he drew back his arm.

Smack! Smack! Smack! The Principal delivered three brisk swats that had the schoolgirl dancing and shuffling. Another three and she was arching her back and wailing. The pert cheeks quivered as the paddle struck. The next volley was four whacks that had her standing on tip-toe.

“Ooooh….owwweee!” she yelped.

He gave her three more, slow, deliberate and harder. At the last of these she shot up and clapped her hands to her buttocks, rubbing furiously.

“Oh, Ward, Omigod…..that really stings.”

“And that,” said Ward with a wry chuckle, “Is what naughty girlfriends get in this Principal’s office.”

In truth it wasn’t his office, it was the den in his apartment, and Beverly was no schoolgirl.

Beverly continued to rub, but then licked her lips. In a husky voice she said, “Ok, I deserved that. But now that I’ve been properly punished, I’ll show just how naughty I can be.” Before Ward could respond, she had dropped to her knees and deftly unzipped his fly. As she suspected he was in full arousal. Beverly licked the swollen member up and down its length. She could hear Ward gasp as she swirled her tongue around the head. Satisfied that he was ready, she took his hand. “You come with me,” she said, dragging him toward the bedroom.

The paddling had made her bottom throb with heat, but that same heat was now driving her to full arousal. She pushed Ward onto his back and mounted him, sitting astride his torso. She lowered herself onto the erect shaft, which was sticking straight up, and began a rocking motion. Beverly tore off the schoolgirl blouse and unclasped her bra, allowing her breasts to spring free. Ward reached up with his hands and grasped the hardened nipples. She bent forward, smothering his face with kisses, and together they sprinted toward climax. As they ground their bodies against one another, Ward’s penis rubbed against her clitoris. A white-hot explosion erupted from her core and she came, bucking and thrashing. Ward was right behind her and she felt his body stiffen and jerk as his climax arrived.

Later, they lay side by side.

“If that’s what happens when you’re naughty, I’m not sure I’m going to be able to curb that behavior,” said Ward, chuckling.

“You can try,” she said with a coquettish smile. “You can try any time at all.


How It Began

It was 4:00 on Friday afternoon and I was anxious to head for home and begin the weekend.  I’d been working on a project in the school library, and most of the students had left half an hour ago.  As I approached the principal’s office, however, a peculiar noise caught my attention.  It sounded like a loud clap – no, more like a slapping noise.  As it came again, I realized what it was – someone was getting the paddle!  Curious, I tiptoed to the door and listened.  Mr. Sawyer, the principal, was really laying down the law to some unfortunate student.  I wondered who it was?  I glanced around but the hallway was empty.  Surely no one would notice if I sneaked a peek.  Temptation got the better of me and I tried the door.  It opened easily and the sounds immediately got louder.   Miss Thompson, the principal’s secretary, was nowhere to be seen, and Mr. Sawyer’s door was ajar.  Heart pounding, I peered into the room.  A boy was bent over the desk, his trousers in a heap around his ankles.  Mr. Sawyer stood behind him, paddle in hand, sternly lecturing him on the evils of smoking.  Thomas Sawyer was a tall, rather handsome man in his early fifties, with dark hair and brown eyes.  He could be stern, but I had always rather liked him.  He had a brilliant sense of humor and often made me laugh.  As I watched, he lifted the paddle and swung it hard – CRACK!  The boy cringed and yelled “OW!” but held his position.  I couldn’t see his face – was he crying?  The paddle cracked down again.  I was totally transfixed at the sight of his bare bottom getting a hard paddling.  What did it feel like, I wondered?  To be totally at someone else’s mercy, helpless, exposed, your bottom burning like fire…

I was so absorbed in the spectacle before me that I didn’t notice Miss Thompson’s return until it was too late.  She propelled me forward into the office, and I stumbled slightly.  “It seems we have a Peeping Tom,” she announced to Mr. Sawyer.  The principal turned abruptly at the interruption.  He looked at me in surprise.  “Why, Rebecca!  You’re the last person I’d have expected to do such a thing!  You ought to be ashamed!”  I blushed crimson, wishing I could melt into the floorboards.  “I’m sorry, sir…” I mumbled, eyes now fixed on the floor.  The boy over the desk made a muffled noise, and Mr. Sawyer redirected his attention to him.  “Nick, you may pull up your trousers and turn around.”  As he turned around to face us, I gave a start as I recognized him.  It was Nick Edwards!  He was a very cute senior I’d had a crush on since the beginning of the school year, though I’d always been too shy to approach him.  Now I was really embarrassed – what must he think of me now?  Mr. Sawyer cleared his throat and for a moment I thought I saw him grin.  Then his features became quite stern and he stepped closer until his face was just inches from mine.  I had to crane my neck to look up at him.  I’d never noticed just how tall he was before, and I suddenly found it quite intimidating.

“Well, Miss Rebecca.  What shall we do with you?  I think the punishment should fit the crime, don’t you?  Since you got to watch Nick receive his swats, I think it only fair that he should watch you get the same.  What do you think, Nick?”  Nick smiled and said “Yes, sir!” just a trifle too enthusiastically.  Was that a leer I could see forming on his face?  Damn him, he was going to enjoy this!

Mr. Sawyer dismissed Miss Thompson and closed the office door.  “All right, Rebecca.  I never thought I’d have to do this, but I guess there’s a first time for everything.  I want you to lift up your skirt and bend over the desk, just as you saw Nick do a few minutes ago.”  I was absolutely mortified!  And I was blushing again.  “But Mr. Sawyer, you can’t be serious!  Girls don’t get paddled, do they?”   “A few do, my dear.  Now do as I say.”  I really didn’t have much choice, did I?

With a glance at Nick, I turned and followed the principal’s instructions.  I was about to find out just exactly how it felt to be paddled!  I was embarrassed and scared, but something else, too.  Excitement, was that it?  Surely I didn’t think I was going to enjoy this – that was just ridiculous!  It felt kind of weird to bend over the desk that way.  Then I felt a tug as Mr. Sawyer pulled my panties down to my knees.  Oh my God!  My bottom was completely bare, and in front of Nick!  I felt so embarrassed, and so terribly exposed.

“Rebecca, I’m going to give you six swats.  Please try to hold your position.”   I waited for the first swat for what seemed an eternity.  What was he waiting for?  I was just about to turn and ask him when the first swat exploded across my bottom.  “OW!”  I didn’t expect it to hurt so much – I thought he’d go easy on me since I was a girl.  “Please bend back over, Rebecca.  If I have to tell you again there will be penalty strokes.”  I hadn’t even realized I had raised up.  I bent over again and waited.  The second and third swats came hard and fast, one on each cheek.  I could feel tears beginning to form.  I gripped the desk and blinked back the tears.  Number four came square across the middle and burned like fire.  Almost done, hang in there, girl.  The last two swats were lower down and encompassed part of my thighs – they hurt the worst yet.  By the time he told me to pull up my panties, the tears were flowing down my cheeks.   And yet, I felt almost sorry that it was all over so quickly.

“You took your punishment very well, Rebecca.  I hope you learned your lesson.  And I hope that satisfied your curiosity, young lady.”  Mr. Sawyer looked at me kindly as he handed me a tissue.  I saw the ghost of a smile at the corners of his mouth.  “Yes, sir.  I promise never to eavesdrop like that again.”  I dabbed at my eyes and blew my nose.  “May I go now, sir?”  “Yes, you may go.  And try to stay out of trouble!”  I hurried away, not daring to look at Nick.  How could I ever face him again?

My mind was a whirl of confusion all weekend.  I kept playing those two scenes over and over again in my mind – Nick bent over the desk getting a paddling, and myself bent over getting the same.  Thinking about it was making me awfully horny – now, why was that?  I’d never been so embarrassed, and it had hurt like blue blazes, and yet something about it turned me on.  I couldn’t explain it, and I was dreading having to face Nick on Monday.  I just knew he must hate me for watching him like that, and he would probably tell all his friends about watching me get paddled.  I would be taunted and teased mercilessly!  It was too awful to even think about.

Monday morning came all too quickly.  I thought about staying home sick, but then decided I may as well get it over with.  I saw Nick in the hall and he waved at me.  I pretended I didn’t see him, but he cornered me at my locker.  “Uh, oh, here it comes,” I thought.  “Why did you disappear so quickly Friday?  I wanted to talk to you.  Are you OK?”  Nick actually looked concerned.  What was that about?  I muttered some excuse about needing to get home.   “Look, I really want to talk to you.  Meet me after school?”  We agreed to meet at the bleachers by the athletic field at 3:30.  I spent the rest of the day on pins and needles, wondering what Nick wanted to talk to me about.


My last class finished early, so I arrived at the bleachers at 3:15.  It was a beautiful spring day and the sun felt warm on my skin.  There was no one around, so I sat down in the grass and closed my eyes, just soaking up the sun.  I started thinking about Friday, and I started getting turned on again.  What was it about that spanking that made me feel that way?

I was startled when Nick suddenly spoke – I hadn’t heard him approach.  I looked up and saw him smiling down at me.  He was tall and tan with light brown hair that he wore a little long.  He had the most striking green eyes that seemed to look right into your soul.  It was a little disconcerting, like being undressed and exposed.  He sat down in the grass beside me.  “I loved watching you get paddled, Rebecca.  You have the most beautiful ass, and seeing it jiggle under that paddle was an incredible turn-on.  Am I making you uncomfortable?”  I was blushing furiously, but I was secretly pleased.  He felt the same way!  I said, “Yes you are, but please don’t stop now!”  He started stroking my leg as he talked, and I felt myself responding to his touch.  I felt mesmerized by his eyes, and after a while he kissed me.  I’d never felt so attracted to anyone before, and I had the impression the feeling was mutual.  “Would you mind if I spanked you?” he asked with a grin.  “No, I think I’d like it!” I answered dreamily.  He pulled me down across his lap and began to caress and stroke my bottom – it felt wonderful.  He pulled my dress up and began to spank me over my panties.  It was a light sting, nothing like the paddle.  I was actually willing him to spank me harder.  I was disappointed when he stopped, but it was only to take my panties down.  Now the spanking began in earnest and he covered my bottom with sharp spanks that made me squirm.

A sudden shadow made Nick stop and look up.  It was Mr. Sawyer, grinning widely.  “She will need a lot of that, I’m afraid, Nick.  Carry on, carry on.”  He sauntered off with a wicked smile.

An Alabaster Bottom Spanked Raw

by BillnKate

She nervously fumbled through her closet trying to find the right outfit, finally coming to the conclusion that there is just not a good way to dress for a spanking.  With that in mind she slipped on a pair of plain white cotton panties, a faded pair of jeans, and strap shouldered top.  She found herself fidgeting with the snap and zipper on the jeans, the anxiety of what she knew was about to happen causing her fingers to tremble.  She had agreed to this and as much as she wanted to back out she would not.

Composing herself she took a final look in the mirror and headed out the door for the short drive to his home.  It was a beautiful Spring day as she drove to his house and all to soon she found herself at his driveway.  She rang the buzzer and was greeted by his calm voice that simply said “you are expected” and then the door opened.  She wanted to run back to her car and drive away but with hesitation she stepped inside.

“It has been sometime since we had one of these visits and I intend to make this one you will not soon forget”.  He took her dainty hand in his and led her down a hallway into his study.  It was a very stately room, finished in teak wood with the faint smell of old books that filled the shelves.  Her eyes were immediately drawn to a leather ottoman and more specifically the small wooden paddle that was placed directly in the center of it.  He had a seat in the center of the ottoman taking the paddle in his hand and began to tap it on his thigh. ” You know our agreement young lady and you know exactly why you are here so we will not waste time discussing the situation as there will be no excuses accepted.

Undress yourself, fold your clothes neatly and place them on the corner of the desk.”  She trembled at the humiliation of what was about to happen and was transfixed by the firm tone of his voice.  Again she fumbled with the snap of her jeans and slipped them down over her hips stepping out of them and placing them on the desk, followed by her top.  She had not bothered with a bra so now she stood before him in only her panties.  But of course that last bit of dignity provided by the small bit of cotton cloth had to come off too.  She slipped then down and now stood fully nude before him.  She felt so vulnerable and exposed, placing her hands over the small landing strip of pubic hair that she maintained in a futile attempt at modesty.


He took her by the wrist and she found herself being pulled over his lap, a position she had assumed so many times before but each time was just as frightening as the first time. Her bottom was now perched lewdly over his knee, unblemished alabaster twin globes framed by amber tan lines.  She felt him place the paddle across her bottom and then held her breath as she felt it withdraw knowing it was about to descend on her bottom full force.  The impact was announced with a sharp whack and the breath that she had held rushed out of her along with a squeal.

Over and over the paddle found its mark, alternating from check to check leaving angry red marks in its wake.  She struggled but he had her firmly in his grasp and there was no escape from the assault of that dreaded paddle. She whimpered and pleaded but to no avail, he was determined to spank her soundly and no amount of promising to be good would be accepted.

Smack, Smack, Smack, the paddle found its mark right on her sit spots.  The sting was almost unbearable and tears flowed freely down her checks dropping onto the floor below her.  She grasp the leg of the ottoman with all her might as he continued raining down swat after swat on her bottom.  The once pale alabaster skin now had taken on a deep red with little purple splotches at her sit spots.  Circular bullseye marks now appeared on each cheek but still he continued to blister her bottom.  She struggled and squirmed to no avail but eventually her body became limp, all resistance spanked out of her.

Finally she heard a snap and realized that the paddle had broken, half of it landing on the floor beside her.  The spanking was over but she laid limp across his lap.  She felt his hand caress each glowing cheek, feeling the warmth and no doubt admiring the sight before him. She felt him grasp her shoulder and begin to lift her up off his lap and back onto her feet.  Her knees were wobbly and she rushed both hands back to grab those well paddled cheeks.  The tears continued to flow and her bottom felt hot and hard to the touch were the paddle had done its work.

Although she had been so concerned with her modesty and nudity before the spanking at this point it never even entered her mind as she furiously rubbed her bottom in a futile attempt to rub the sting out.  Slowly she slipped her panties back on.  They felt tighter as she pulled them up over her now swollen bottom and her jeans produced the same sensation as she stepped into them and pulled them up, again fumbling with the button and zipper. The strapless top followed and covered her pert breasts as she pulled it down over her belly button. Slowly she made her way back to the door with promises to be good all along the way.  As she drove home she felt that familiar tingling sensation between her legs.  She was moist and every nerve awakened.  She hated being spanked but for reasons that she did not totally understand it always aroused her.  As she drove home she knew that she would have to satisfy that yearning that tingled between her legs even as her bottom was still burning.

Bacall Finishes the DIY Story

For the last year or so, Bacall has been devouring mystery novels and playing Solitaire, Mah Jongg, etc. No involvement with OBB. I rattled her cage a bit and she finished the story in her own way.

I was single and had invited a gal to my place for dinner. It was our second date. I was in the kitchen finishing cooking and she was sitting on the couch on the other side of the kitchen counter. She moved and her hand went between the cushions and she came up with a paddle I had misplaced.

She held it up and said “I know what this is for”.

So I asked her what she thought it was and how would it be used.  She smiled mischievously and said that she knew what it was and how it was used.  I told her that it could be used two different ways, for a naughty girl or a girl that has been very good.  She smiled and said she had never heard of a girl getting a spanking for being very good.

The conversation was titillating as we drank our wine.  Dinner was served and she smiled and said she had been a very good girl and she thought she deserved a good girl spanking, especially since she had never had one.
After dinner and before dessert, I took her hand and lead her to the sofa, lifted her skirt and commenced to use my hand to spank her.  Then I pulled her panties down and used the paddle that she had found.  She gave moans of delight.
Dessert was served in the bedroom.

A Reader Finished The Story

A reader who wanted no acknowledgment wrote this version.

I was single and had invited a gal to my place for dinner. It was our second date. I was in the kitchen finishing cooking and she was sitting on the couch on the other side of the kitchen counter. She moved and her hand went between the cushions and she came up with a paddle I had misplaced.

She held it up and said “I know what this is for”.

“James, is there something that you want to ask me?” I played coy. “What do you mean Paula?” “I think that there is something on your mind and you should tell me what it is,” she said. Did I dare tell her that I wanted her to spank me? I wanted to, but I had butterflies in my stomach and could not get out the words.

“What if I already know what it is from all of our conversations James,” she said. I was really embarrassed now and I looked down at my feet. “I see that you must know what I am talking about. My stomach was in knots and my member was tingling.

“Well James, I see that I need to take the initiative, I really wanted you to ask me for a spanking” Paula sat in my spot and placed the paddle on the couch to her left. “Now I know you have wanted this spanking since we met and I will give you what you want. Take your pants down.” I was trembling as I reached for my belt buckle and dropped my pants. I was afraid that she would see my raging hard-on through my  briefs as I pushed my pants to my ankles, but as soon as they were down she moved me over her knee.  I put my hands and elbows on the couch as she centered my bottom. “If you try to get up or protect your bottom then you will receive further spankings. Is that understood?” “Yes Ma’am,” I said.

With my answer all but out, she started to rain down spanks onto my upturned bottom. They were not too bad at first and I wiggled my butt just a little at the touch of her hand. She increased her tempo and they began to sting. My penis was hard as a rock and moving against her bare thighs as I wiggled. It felt so good I could hardly stand it. She spanked me steadily from top to bottom and then stopped. She ran her hands over my hot bottom. I knew what was coming. “Lift your hips James.” I did as instructed and she pulled my underwear down to join my jeans. I could hardly believe that I was being spanked on the bare by my girlfriend on our second date. It stung and felt good all at the same time.

She spanked me with her hand on my bare bum until it began to hurt quite a bit. She concentrated on the round of my bum and my upper thighs. “Now James, I want you to remember this spanking for some time to come, so now we are going to start your real spanking. She picked  the paddle up. The first slap of it made my legs stick out straight and I involuntarily reached my right hand back to block the next one. She pinned my arm high on my back with her left hand and pushed me down. “I warned you about putting your hands back James.” “Please Paula; I will not reach back again.” I pleaded with her to stop but she kept spanking my naked bottom with my paddle, I know you want this she said. It hurt more than I had imagined it would. She was right. I wanted to be spanked, and I still had butterflies in my stomach.

She spanked me with the paddle until I thought that I could take no more. Then as quickly as it started, it stopped. When I stood up I noticed her staring at my erection and it made me even more aroused. I kicked my underwear off and waited for further instruction. My butt was on fire. I stood in front of her and she ran her cool hands over my hot ass. I felt her fingertips circle their way around my bottom while her other hand and fingers curled down and tickled my penis so softly. She smacked my bottom lightly. I waited for more but it wasnt time yet.

“James, I want you to bend over the back of the couch and place your hands on the far edge of the seat. If you move your hands or stand up then you will receive additional spankings and you already have twenty licks with the paddle coming.”

I did as I was told and reached across the back of the couch and grabbed the top of the cushion. This really put my derriere on display and made it an easy target. I was not ready for the first swat when it came and I yelled out. “Owwwww, please Paula, I heard her snicker a little bit, she was enjoying this, but this was no laughing matter. I almost moved my hands and it was all I could do to keep from standing up. I gripped the cushion harder and vowed to not let go. The paddle swooshed through the air and made contact over and over. She finished my paddling but I remained bent over the couch as she rubbed my ass. My erection was coming back slowly and I think she was waiting for it.

“I want you to go get your belt out of your pants and hand it to me now,” she said. “Yes, Ma’am”, I said. I wanted this to be over so I quickly retrieved my belt and handed it to her. “You will now ask me politely to spank you.” “Please Paula, will you spank me for my behavior earlier,” I said.

“Since you have been good for the most part and asked so politely, I will give you only ten strokes of the belt and you will wear my panties. I watched as she lifted her skirt and peeled off a pair of satin panties. I took them from her outstretched hand. I held them under my nose. The sweet yet musky scent entered and filled me. MMMM she said and smiled as I pulled them over my hot cheeks. Please bend over the couch again, James.” I bent over and waited for the first stroke. She hit me high on the thighs and the pain shot through my whole body, but I noticed my erection was still there. After the tenth stroke,   your spanking is done and you can come over here, she said. I stood in front of her as she slipped panties off my ass. She took her panties and wrapped them around my penis, she spanked me with one hand and moved the panties on my penis. I came into her panties. Now you know exactly how I like to be spanked.
Its your turn to spank me.

Would you please spank me, she said.

The experience was one that I would never forget and one that would hope to repeat.

DIY Story

I sometimes wake up in a spanking dream. The other day I had a new one. I was single and had invited a gal to my place for dinner. It was our second date. I was in the kitchen finishing cooking and she was sitting on the couch on the other side of the kitchen counter. She moved and her hand went between the cushions and she came up with a paddle I had misplaced.

She held it up and said “I know what this is for”.

So what did she say it was for? That it fitted my bottom or what?

I will be interested in earning if anyone will take a swing at adding to the story.


PS, not a single comment on the letter from Miss E. That’s OK, I have lots of them.