Feels Like a Big Deal

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“Why are you slinking around the apartment? What happened?”

You look over the counter that divides the kitchen from the living room; she has closed her book and her attention is on you.

”I’m not slinking. Why do you think I’m slinking? I’m just making tea.” You look back down, pointedly lifting and dunking the bag of Earl grey to prove your point.

She stretches her legs and sets her book aside before planting her bare feet on the carpet. “Come here,” she says, and it’s on the commanding side of an invitation. You hesitate for only a second. Then you slink over to her.

“Tell me what happened,” she says as she reaches over to undo the button on your pants. You narrow your eyes but don’t stop her, even when she tugs them down to your knees. She looks up at you and pats her lap. Another bossy invitation. You accept by flinging yourself across said lap, hands coming up automatically to provide a resting place for your chin. You grimace as you feel your underwear being pulled down and your blazer being scooted up and well out of the way.

You wish you could muster up more annoyance when her warm palm comes to rest on the cool skin of your now bare backside, but the impending relief takes up too much space for that. Her other hand presses gently on the small of your back, her thumb working absentmindedly on the muscles there. “What happened?” she says a third time, more firmly now, and your elbows slide across the couch cushion as you let your head sink.

Cheek smushed, one arm now dangling down to the floor, you say, “I’m supposed to be at work right now but I never wrote it down I guess. They called me.”

”Ah,” she says, and you almost see the way things must be clicking into place for her. “And they didn’t ask you to come in anyway?”

”They said it was fine. Not really a big deal.”

”But it feels like a big deal,” she says in an even tone. She isn’t really offering an opinion one way or another on the matter, just stating the facts. You nod your head, and she pats your bottom and says, “Let’s take care of it then.”

Before you have time to respond— and really, what do you have to say for yourself?— her hand has lifted and crashed back down. The relief you didn’t want to want washes over you from the first swat. She spanks hard, and you grumble and shift as the sting builds. She doesn’t lecture, which is how you know that she herself doesn’t really think you did much wrong here.

She doesn’t seem to be spanking you with any less vigor, though. Funny how that works.

There is a pause in the onslaught and you feel her reach for something; a glance over your shoulder shows her to be rummaging in the purse she just snagged from the floor. “Okay is that really necessary?” you ask, indignant, as she pulls her hairbrush from the depths of the bag with a small satisfied smile.

She makes eye contact and says, “I find it necessary. Keep your feet out of my way.” And before you have even gotten your face properly buried in the couch, she has resumed spanking you. There are no more pauses now, and no amount of stubborn can keep you still for long. You dig your fingers into the carpet where your hand lays, occasionally supporting some of your weight as you struggle to maintain your composure.

She targets your sit-spots and sometimes the tops of your thighs, but mostly she gives her energy to the roundest curves of your cheeks. You almost ask her to stop several times but don’t. Not yet.

Then her arm encircles your waist and her one knee lifts slightly, and you aren’t sure what kind of witchcraft she has just performed but it works. Everything hurts more now and a reluctant “Okay,” slips from your mouth. She ignores you. Or maybe starts spanking faster. You aren’t entirely sure.

”Okay,” you say again, to what end you do not know, but you have to say something. Your bottom hurts and you can tell it’s going to hurt for a while, and she doesn’t seem to be slowing down at all.

”I hear you,” she says over the loud smack of the brush, “and we will be finished soon. But we aren’t finished yet.”

You growl, except maybe it sounds more like a whimper, and try to accept this verdict with some grace. You are… moderately successful. You wiggle still and occasionally your stomach muscles tighten and your back bows, but you keep your hands and feet out of the way. That counts for something.

When she finally stops, a second and very different wave of relief hits you. She pulls your underwear up over your throbbing bottom, then tugs at your hair. You accept this invitation with less reluctance, kicking off your pants as scramble up. A soft “hmph” escapes your lips as you flip over, but then the weight is off your bottom and your head is in her lap.

Her fingers filter through your hair, meandering sometimes to trace the curve of your ear or to rub your back a bit. You don’t feel absolved, exactly. It’s never that simple. But you feel better. And better is good.

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Good News/Bad News

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Mia shoved the ball of her hand into her mouth to stifle a squeal.  The impulse was strange; the house was empty.  But she couldn’t quite believe it yet, and so harnessed her joy: She was in.  Her first choice for medical school had accepted her.  She was going to be a doctor.

She still clutched the letter as she dug for her phone, had already hit dial for ~*roomie*~ when her heart stopped and she smashed her thumb on the “end call” icon.  It vibrated in her hand seconds later.  A single question mark from Li.

“Pocket, sorry!” she replied quickly, and then looked again at the letter in her other hand.  She sort of wasn’t supposed to be home right now.  Not sort of, she heard Li’s voice in her head, and she cringed. She was supposed to be at a bridal shower an hour away from their apartment.  Mia wasn’t a hundred percent sure Li would be upset that she had skipped out, but she wasn’t a hundred percent sure she wouldn’t be.  Mia had a tendency to bail last minute on plans, and the habit made her best friend crazy– particularly because Mia almost always felt guilty afterward.  The muscles of Mia’s bottom twitched as she remembered the last time she’d complained about these feelings and the swift way Li had dealt with her.

She stuffed the mail back into the small metal box and locked it.  She had been on her way out, at least.  Li wouldn’t be expecting her home until late, and she didn’t want to draw any unwanted attention.  She put her letter in her coat pocket, smiling again as she rested her hand alongside the envelope.  The mail would have arrived when she was out, of course, so this letter would just have to come tomorrow.  She could hold the secret for that long at least.

~   ~   ~

No, it turns out, she couldn’t.  If Mia wasn’t telling Li yet, Mia wasn’t telling anyone, and that turned out to be a heavier secret than she realized.  Her emotions roller-coastered all afternoon, dragging her through a cycle of excitement and delight followed by guilt and misgivings about withholding the information.  By the time she was back home, she was ready for relief at any cost.  Li was there, preparing dinner in their small kitchen and listening to a podcast.  Mia shut the speaker off dramatically as she walked into their small apartment and held out the letter.  “I did it.  I got in,” she said, almost confessionally.

“You got in?!” Li exclaimed, wiping her hands on a cloth before grabbing the letter Mia was thrusting in her direction.  Her eyes widened as she skimmed it and then she looked up, smiling and said again, “You got in!” She faltered at the look on her friend’s face.  “You look upset.  Why do you look upset?”

“I didn’t go to the shower today,” Mia replied, still feeling like the star of her own melodrama.  Li looked confused, and so Mia plowed through.  “I got the mail earlier, but I didn’t want you to know I stayed home, so I pretended that I didn’t see the letter.”

Comprehension dawned on Li’s face, and she nodded slowly.  Mia saw, and her head fell forward, a pout gracing her lips.  She was in for it.  She knew it.  She shuffled forward and butted her forehead up against Li’s shoulder.

The other woman smiled and hugged her pitiful roommate, now that Mia couldn’t see her face.  Li’s excitement over the good news far outweighed any passing disappointment she might have in her friend’s flaking habit, but clearly Mia was seeking some accountability.  It sounded like she had spent the day wrestling with her conscious, and Li was just in time for the resolution.  And that was okay with her; it had always come naturally to their friendship that Li sometimes mothered the other woman.  Today would be no different.

She stepped back, tucking the letter into her pocket and placing her hands on Mia’s shoulders.  “So you concocted an entire plan to keep it from me that you stayed home today?  And you didn’t call me as soon you got this letter?” she said.

“I thought I would be in trouble,” Mia said sullenly.

“A self-fulfilling prophecy,” Li said sternly.  “You’re in trouble now.  Get your little butt in the corner while I finish up here.”  She turned her roommate and sent her toward the living end of the room with a swat, to a spot where Mia had spent more than a few evenings stuck in the one vacant corner.  There was more shuffling as the young woman went, and Li turned back to finish her preparations.  It only took a few minutes to wrap up; she set a timer on the oven and then slipped the acceptance letter back out of her pocket so she could put it on the fridge.  She knew it was silly but that it would also make both of them happy every time they saw it.

Her eyes slid over to the vase on the counter that held many of their cooking utensils, coming to land on the large oval of an unused wooden spoon.  Now that was something that wouldn’t be coaxing any smiles tonight, which was exactly what she needed.  She slipped it from the arrangement, and turned toward her errant roommate.

~   ~   ~

Mia shifted her weight from foot to foot in the corner, straightening when she heard the floor creak under Li’s footsteps headed in her direction.  She listened as the other woman settled herself on the couch, then bit her lip as her name was called and she turned.  Her gaze immediately fell on the wood spoon resting on the coffee table, and her bottom lip protruded as she settled herself across Li’s lap.  Mia felt her hand slip under her sweater and settle on her thin black leggings, heat leaching through her palm onto Mia’s bottom.  She squirmed.

“You were very silly today, Mia Mia.  You worked yourself up when you should have just called me in the first place.”  Mia reached over for one of the small square couch cushions and planted her face in the cheap fabric as Li scolded her, blushing furiously. “I am not happy that you ditched your friends, but that isn’t the reason you are getting a spanking today, young lady.”

Mia kicked her feet into the arm of the couch.  She hated when Li used that word to describe that… thing… that… well that thing that the word exactly described, but Mia hated it and she refused to say it.  Or think it.

“I am spanking you because you cut me out of an entire afternoon of celebrating, gave yourself an entire afternoon of anxiety, and here you are, still going to end up with a sore bottom.  Was it worth it, Mia?”

Mia scrunched her eyes shut, knowing what was going to happen the moment she answered.  Still, she forced it out.  “No, it wasn’t.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Li echoed firmly, wrapping one arm around her friend and using the other to pull down the leggings that covered her bottom.  She patted the edge of her friend’s bottom, the round curve left exposed by her navy underwear, and then began to spank her.

Mia squeaked and wiggled from the first swat, but nothing got in the way of the quick steady pattern of Li’s hand.  She spanked her quickly and almost without pause, making sure to cover every inch of the other woman’s bottom.  Occasionally she would land of flurry of swats in one spot or another, eliciting a groan from Mia before she moved on, and twice she moved her palm down to swat the tender skin of her thighs when Mia’s hand reached back uninvited.

When she could feel the girl breathing heavily against her thighs, she paused to grab the spoon; Mia twisted to point her pout in Li’s direction.  “You don’t have to use that thing.  I’m not going to do it again.”

Li snorted as she tapped the wood against her friend’s warm backside.  “I’m sure you aren’t.  This is a unique circumstance.  But you shouldn’t have done it even one time.  Which is why you are being punished now.”

Mia cringed and lifted the pillow she had been cuddling, placing it firmly over her head now as if to hide from the world.  Unfortunately there was no hiding from Li’s wooden spoon.  She started up just as fast as she had stopped with her hand, sharp quick swats that left Mia no time to process the pain.  She managed to keep her feet out of the way but just barely, and she felt Li’s free hand holding her waist in place more firmly as her wiggling grew.  The sting built and built until finally Mia came out from under the pillow, grabbing it to her chest again to keep her hands occupied and whaling pitifully, “I’m sorry!  I’m really sorry!”

“I know you are, Mia Mia,” Li said affectionately, even as she continued to spank her best friend’s bottom with obvious conviction.  She didn’t stop until she heard tone of Mia’s apologies shift from gentle brazenness to genuine remorse.  By then, the woman’s bottom was visibly swollen and she could just make out the ashy round edge of the spoon’s imprint in several places.  She stopped and set the implement aside before running her hands across Mia’s back and bottom, comforting her.  “Now, are we ready to celebrate properly?” she asked.

Mia nodded into her pillow.  “Hmm?” Li pushed.

“We’re ready.  Cross my heart.”

Li smiled, and helped pull her roommate up for a cuddle.

~   ~   ~

Later that evening, after dinner and a glass of cheap champagne with many ridiculous and grand toasts, Mia looked slyly up at her roommate.  She currently sat on the same pillow she’d so desperately held earlier.  “I don’t think you’re allowed to spank doctors, you know.  Or people trying to become doctors.”  The word lost some of its bite now that she wasn’t in trouble.

“Oh?” replied Li nonchalantly.

“Yep.  I’m pretty sure it’s in the handbook.”

“Well then I will have to obtain special permission from your professors.”

“Li!  You can’t do that!” Mia’s face heated at the idea, even if it was silly.

“Ooooh, you want me to just stop spanking you all together?”

Mia nodded, doing her best to look innocent.

Li contemplated her with one eyebrow raised as she took the last sip of her drink.  “You could always start behaving.”

“You know I can’t do that!” Mia exclaimed.

“I know you can’t do that,” Li repeated, smiling.  “So I suppose I’m just going to have to keep spanking you when you need it.”  She stood, taking her glass and Mia’s to the kitchen sink.  “But you let me know when you find that section of the handbook, and we’ll discuss it then.”

Mia smiled, pulling her knees up and resting her chin upon them.  “Alright.  Deal.”

Spanked at Your Desk

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“Why are you giggling? Something funny about the story?”

You jump and turn, jerking your headphones out of your ears. You thought you were the only one home, but she sure is standing in the doorway.  Dragonflies erupt immediately in the pit of your stomach.  Her arms are crossed and she doesn’t look pleased.

“You scared the shit out of me!” you exclaim, ignoring her questions all-together, lost in the shock of course.  She raises an eyebrow; she isn’t fooled a bit by this strategy, and you know it and she knows you know it.  You feel a blush color your cheeks.  “Sorry, nothing is funny.  I was just thinking about something else…” you say quietly.  “And you really did surprise me.”

She nods at your headphones.  Well, duh.  You offer a small shrug.  The sound quality is better than computer speakers.  She pulls up a chair next to yours at the desk, and you realize she has one of her more wicked looking hairbrushes in her hand.  You do your best not to change your expression at all and fling your eyes back up to her face.  Don’t look at it, you tell yourself harshly.

Fuck.  Okay, starting now.

“Why are you still working on this?  It’s after 10pm.  I want you getting ready for bed soon.”

“I thought you were gone until late,” you say.  You’re ignoring her question again, but you don’t know the answer and you need time to think.  Okay well you do know the answer, and she won’t like the answer, so you need a new one.  Fast.

“Nope, got cancelled on.  Home early. Why are you working on that now?”

Well hard to avoid a question when she asks that directly twice in a row.  Huh.

“I didn’t do it earlier, so I’m doing it now…” Keep it vague.  It’s a strategy.

Her lips come together and her whole face seems to tighten as she takes a breath.  You didn’t stay it was a good strategy.

“Stand up,” she says, and your heart literally stops for a beat.  Question and answer time is apparently over.  She pats her lap as you slowly obey.

“But… why?” you ask.  After all, it’s not like you aren’t allowed to work late… or… are you?  You realize it hasn’t exactly been discussed.  But you don’t think that’s it.

“Did you tell me you would have it finished this afternoon?”

“Yes, ma’am…” you answer.  You did, but then you got busy!  Well, sort of busy.  Okay well you got sort of tired of being busy at work so you… left.  You treated yourself to an afternoon movie.  It was fun!  You would like to rewind your day now, because what looks on track to happen right now is the exact opposite of fun.

“And I told my editor I’d have it ready by this evening after that message; I’ve been waiting for your email.  I also texted– you didn’t see it?”

Oh fucking fuck fuck fuck yes you did see it.  Right before the movie, you saw it as you were silencing your phone.  You didn’t read it, not on purpose but you were going to after, but then the notification wasn’t there when the movie was over and you just didn’t think about it, not until… well now.

“I am about finished being ignored.  I think you will have an easier time once we clear your head a little bit.  Now move.”

It’s not like you to give up the fight but honestly you still don’t have any good answers to give her, plus it looks like pea soup might come flying at you in a second and you’d rather not ruin your shirt. You snort at yourself and immediately raise a hand to your mouth.  You’ve gone all wide-eyed and innocent any number of times (not that it has ever worked, but a girl has to try), but this time your brows lift and it is involuntary, because you just laughed in her face and why did you do that??

“Sorry, sorry, I wasn’t laughing at you, I swear!” you blurt out, but you can tell by the look on her face that she doesn’t want to hear it.  She reaches over to hook the waist of your jeans and pulls you over to her, where she begins to unbutton them as she scolds you. “You have a good sense of humor and bad sense of timing tonight, little girl.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!” you say uselessly as she shoves the denim down to your knees and then tugs you across her lap.  You reach for the floor, immediately conscious of your body and hers, worried about your bottom but also concerned with her comfort.  Why?  Why when she is about to… do that… that thing she is about to do with the hairbrush, why are you worried about her comfort?  One more question you can’t answer tonight.  You just know that you are, and you shift and fidget.

“Stop it,” she says firmly, lifting your legs and moving you about two inches closer to her body.  “I am capable of putting you where I want you, or I will tell you to move.  Understood?”

“Understood, ma’am,” you say, but still you push your palms into the floor, trying to keep yourself partially supported.  Then her hand comes down on your bare cheek, bare because your comfy little black thong doesn’t do a damn thing to protect your ass, and your hands decide they want to be grabbing the legs of the chair instead.  Motherfucker, that hurts.  You can take a spanking with the best of them but she is intent on making you prove it apparently, because these aren’t warm-up swats.

Before long, of course, you are forced to miss them.  You don’t want to miss her hand because her hand hurts and your butt hurts, but she does like a good catch-22.  The only pause in the onslaught is when she reaches for the hairbrush, and when it makes contact you can’t help it!  You miss her stupid hand.

Now you can’t be still or quiet, and the moment you realize you can’t control your legs, it’s over.  Vulnerability comes crashing down like a frozen block of ice cubes from the bottom of a glass, steady, steady, steadyyyyyy until suddenly it comes down a rush and smacks you in the mouth.  Still, you try to choke on your tears because you always have to try, don’t you?

Doesn’t matter.  She keeps spanking and the sobs come anyway, after you’ve held your breath for damn near two minutes and her brush has become fond of your thighs.  She spanks you through the biggest burst, her left hand as soothing as her right hand is venomous, and your own traveling hands are now wrapped around her arm, which is wrapped around you.  She finishes in a flurry, remember-swats that break through the built-up pain enough to make you cry out, and then suddenly it’s over.

There’s no place to bury your face but you contemplate the carpet anyway.  She doesn’t give you time to do much else before you are being hugged, squeezed even, and that just makes you cry harder but what the hell, might as well lean in.  She plants kisses on the top of your head and holds you until you are calm again, then tilts your face up and thumbs tears from your cheeks.  She grins down at you and you smile back before hugging her middle again. “Alright, little girl,” she says a minute later.  “Time to finish up.”

She helps you stand, removes your jeans, and guides you back to the desk.  You contemplate standing for the duration, but it seems impractical and you don’t think she’d allow it anyway.  “Come find me when you’re finished,” she says after you are settled.

“Yes, ma’am,” you reply with a shuddery breath.  You pull up her story, the one you promised to edit that afternoon.  With your full attention, it doesn’t take long at all.  And it’s good.  Really good.  You like the title character.  Her subconscious curses a lot.  You find her… relatable.

Cheeky Academy

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Hello!  We take a quick break from our irregularly scheduled programing to bring you “a day in the life” at Cheeky Academy!  This story is a fun little rendezvous into real-ish life, as experienced through this amazing role play experience. Check out their blog to learn more about the things they host and find out how to register for their upcoming event!!!  And attendee or not, I hope this is a fun read for everyone. 🙂

You can’t believe you showed up late for assembly. You have friends who warned you it was a bad idea, but it was just so easy to hit the snooze button. One of the administrative assistants, ushers you in with a disapproving look, but she doesn’t send you to join your classmates. You can see them, all eyes on Principal Hayes as he welcomes everyone to Cheeky Academy. A few of them look bored, but most appear a little anxious. You, however, are off to the side.

You hope you are pulling off a bored look yourself, but your stomach is in knots. A few of them glanced your way when you entered, and they’ve made the connection of your appearance with the empty chair in the second row.

You see Mr. Topper looking in your direction. He is eyeing you, and it makes you nervous. He wasn’t impressed when you were late to class during regular term, and he certainly doesn’t look pleased with you now. Hard to pull off nonchalance, but you do your best to act like you don’t notice.

The thing is, Mr. Topper knows how to make you notice him, if that’s what he wants. And apparently he does, because the moment the other students are released, he is right there next to you. Your mouth opens, ready to spill the usual excuses, but he stops you before you can start.

”I don’t want to hear it.”

Before you can blink he has taken your arm and turned you sideways, and his hand is landing hard on your backside. It hurts even through two layers of clothing, and more than that, it is embarrassing! Everyone is scurrying to class, and here you are being spanked before you’ve even had time to sit down.

He flips you up just as abruptly, and you take a minute to adjust your clothes as he scolds you – plus it’s easier than looking him in the eye right now. “I hope this isn’t a sign of how your day is going to go. I won’t speak for your other teachers, but if you put a toe out of line in my classroom, my belt is coming off. Is that clear?”

”Yes sir.” you mumble, grabbing for your backpack and heading to your first class as quickly as you can. He doesn’t stop you, for which you are grateful. You make it just before the bell rings, sitting a little too hard and being promptly reminded of what just happened. For once you’re glad for a front row seat – the only eyes you have to meet are Ms. Lashes as she hands you your first assignment of the day.

“Good morning, students. Glad to have you all here today. I trust you all completed your reading assignments, so the quiz I just handed you shouldn’t be difficult.”

A quiet groan rolls through the classroom, which covers your sigh of relief. You didn’t go to any great pains to complete your work, but you did look at the material. After a quick glance at the paper on your desk, you actually relax. You know most of these answers.

You’re aware of little besides the scritching of pens on paper in the next ten minutes, and then almost collectively it seems the class has finished. Another student collects the papers, a sweet boy with round cheeks who looks too good to be here. Before you have much chance to wonder about him, though, Ms. Lashes captures your attention once again.

She has stopped flipping through the quizzes and is looking directly at you; her expression sends heat rushing up your collar even as you scramble to pinpoint anything you might have done wrong. Wait, no… no she isn’t looking at you. She’s looking at whoever is behind you. She crooks a finger, and an incredulous voice says “What?!”

”Come here, please.”

”How do you know it was me?!” the voice exclaims again, and the girl sounds so shocked that you know without a doubt that it was her. No one innocent sounds that guilty before an accusation has even been made.

“I’m not going to ask again,” Ms. Lashes says sternly, and what turns out to be a pretty girl in a blue skirt lets out a dramatic sigh as she shuffles past you and to the front of the class. Ms. Lashes has taken a paddle from her drawer, and in short order the girl is bent over the desk and the paddle is cracking down on her backside. You aren’t even sure what she did, but you find out soon enough.

Ms. Lashes flips the student’s skirt up, and begins to scold as she paddles her. “There is no place in this school for vulgarity, especially in my class. I am un-amused with your answers and unimpressed with your lack of preparation.”

”Yes ma’am, sorry! Ow, sorry ma’am!”

That girl’s attitude changed in a hurry, and you can’t blame her. At least you didn’t have to show your underwear off to the whole class when you were spanked. She looks abashed when she is sent back to her seat, and you shift a little with sympathy pains. Still… better her than you.

~   ~   ~

Famous last words, you think when your name is called over the PA system in the middle of your next class. You actually try to negotiate with Mr. Rookwood– really, your time should be spent in class, not in the office!– but he asks if you want to explain to the principal that you were late because you had to stand in the corner for impertinence.  You politely decline, grab your bag, and walk out the door. The hall seems more crowded than it should be, and you realize it’s because of the line trailing from Dean Kendrick’s door.  You slow down, unable to curb your curiosity.  The newest addition to the line is a girl sporting the most pitiful pout you have ever seen.  She’s being scolded by another of the administrative assistants, who isn’t as impressed with the pout as you are.  The girl is looking stubbornly away from the woman bending over her, and you take a moment to appreciate the contrast between the two.

The assistant’s black pencil skirt is form fitting and professional, nothing like the girl’s plaid jumper and blouse.  You blush a little, realizing that your own uniform doesn’t exactly make you look grown-up.  At least you aren’t being scolded right now.

The bell rings, and suddenly the buiDding is swarming again.  You take your time, looking through the crowd until you spot the pouting student again.  You can make out some of the words from the assistant’s lecture over the din of everyone changing classes; something about “not here to be social,” and being “awfully eager to see the Dean of Discipline.”  The girl in the chair gets sulkier by the second.  That last part actually makes you snort.  Who would ever be eager to step foot in that office?

As if on cue, the unmistakable sound of a spanking begins, fast and rhythmic and echoing down the hall.  Whatever hapless student is across the Dean’s lap makes no attempt to be quiet, either, and a refrain of “please, please, stop, I’ll be good!” joins the swatting noises.  You keep walking, embarrassed but so curious.  You pass several other students who are siting outside of the office.  You notice a boy fidgeting nervously, and a tall girl with a pretty bow in her hair sitting next to him.  She has her legs crossed and one foot is bouncing; she’d look relaxed except for that bouncing foot.  The student closest to the door is not sitting on her chair, but kneeling, bare bottom on display, and you are immediately embarrassed for her.  As you pass the office, you glance in as discreetly as you can.

You mostly know what you will see, and still it comes as a shock.  There is a boy in the corner with his hands behind his head and his pants pulled down; he’s clearly just been punished.  Dean Kendrick has a student across her lap, and a bathbrush in her hand.  A bathbrush.  No wonder the girl being spanked is so loud!  Her underwear are all the way down her knees, just above a jumble of cloth that could be pants or a skirt, you can’t tell.  Her legs are kicking furiously, but the dean doesn’t seem to notice or doesn’t seem to care.  She brings the round head of the brush down relentlessly; her other arm encircles the girl’s waist and seems to effortlessly hold her in place.

“Not a good place to be distracted.” The voice of a third assistant– you think each of the deans must have one– shakes you out of your open-mouthed stare.  Heat immediately fills your cheeks.  So much for a discreet glance.  “Sorry, I…” you stammer, and then pause.  You know this woman.  This girl!  She used to be a student here, but you didn’t recognize her at first. You didn’t really know her, but you knew of her.  Everyone did!  She was the reason schools like Cheeky existed!  “What’s up, I’m–” you start, but she doesn’t let you finish.

“I’m not here to be your friend.  I’m here to escort you to the Principal’s office, since you seem to have gotten distracted.”

Your eyes widen and before you can help yourself, you say “Are you kidding me?  You are like the mouthiest person who ever attended here!”

Her expression says, no, no she is not kidding at all.  So does the firm grip she suddenly has on your ear.  She releases you right outside the office door, and you glare at her reproachfully as you rub your ear.  She looks at you sympathetically, but certainly not apologetically.

“I spent more time than I should have thinking funny was enough.  I’m still funny, but now I’m so much more,”  she says quietly.  After a brief pause, she continues abruptly, “You need to learn how to be a smart-ass without being a dumb-ass.  They are actually trying to help you, and you should let them.”

You’re shocked by her candor, but she leaves before you can reply.  You don’t know what you would have said anyway.  Your knee-jerk reaction is to downplay her words, write her off as some uppity graduate but…another part of you wonders if she’s right.

Whatever, you think, brushing it off.  You don’t have time to psychoanalyze yourself right now.  You realized that the office door is opening, and the principal’s assistant is suddenly there, clipboard in hand as she holds it open for you.  You freeze, and she moves her head in an expression of disbelief.  “What are you waiting for?  Go in.”

You take a deep breath and do as she says, walking past her and into Principal Hayes’ office.  There is already a student in here, just like in the Dean of Discipline’s office.  This time it’s a girl, one you recognize from your second class.  You’re immediately embarrassed that you do, since you recognize her from behind– and her behind is something to behold right now.  Her underwear are up, but they don’t do much to hide a very obviously spanked behind, and they do absolutely nothing to hide her very obviously spanked thighs.  You actually saw her get sent out of class; you remember her being so defiant about it.  That was this morning though.  This must be her second visit here.  Ouch.

Principal Hayes is behind the desk, thumbing through a file folder.  His fingers cover part of it, but you can make out enough letters to know that it’s your name on the tab.  You feel sweat begin to form along your body; you instantly feel guilty and you genuinely don’t know why.  What is in that folder?!

“Just a moment,” he says, glancing up and making brief eye contact before he is  re-engrossed in whatever is contained in that file.  You look around the office, hoping to distract yourself, but there is little that brings comfort.  He has not one, but two hairbrushes on his desk.  Two.  And you bet neither one of them has every been used bristle-side down.  After several more tense seconds, he closes the folder and stands.  He walks past you, and you hear movement just outside of your periphery.  He is fixing the skirt of the girl in the corner.  He doesn’t try to conceal the conversation they’re having.

“Do you understand why you were in trouble today?”

“Yes sir.” Her voice is small and nervous, nothing like the brash girl from this morning.

“And now where are you expected to go?”

“To…” She hesitates, and you have strain to hear her whisper, “to the Dean’s office.”

“Exactly right.  Skip the line.”

The next thing you hear is the door opening and shutting again, while you are trying to imagine taking another spanking on a bottom so swollen and obviously sore.  You should probably stop worrying about her, though.  Principal Hayes is walking back around, and he’s undone the cuff of one shirt sleeve and is rolling it up to his elbow.  Your stomach flops.  You want to tell him that you haven’t done anything, you swear, but the truth is you aren’t sure.  You have a bad habit of making rash decisions and paying for it later.  He reaches for one of the brushes, an oval one that looks incredibly…solid.

As he walks back around you, he begins to speak, so this time you turn your body and your eyes follow him.  “I can only assume that you do not know why you are here.  Is that correct?”

You nod.

He nods back.  “This makes sense.  It makes sense because a student as bright as you, would certainly have remembered reading that all students who turn in their registration forms for Cheeky Prep late would be given a thorough hairbrush spanking when they arrived.”

Your eyes widen; you are incredulous as you blurt out “I don’t remember that!”

“I’m sure you don’t.  I don’t believe you have, up until this point, been taking this program seriously.  We forget the things we don’t take seriously.  Your records indicate to me that you have ended up here precisely because you refuse to take things seriously.  Your education.  Your behavior.  Your future.”

Your squirm under his gaze; he has crossed his arms so the brush dangles ominously beneath one of his elbows.  He continues to lecture you.

“Now if I were you, and I had been sent to a reform school, I would have taken the threat of a hairbrush spanking seriously.  And I would have sent my registration in on time.  Come over here, please.”

For a moment you can’t move.  Your mind is whirring with options.  Can anyone get you out of this?  No, anyone you could call would only lead to more trouble.  Physical escape?  No, he’s blocking the only exit.  Fire alarm?  Is there a fire alarm you can pull?!

“And if I were you, I wouldn’t make my principal wait any longer.”  The sternness in his voice manages to loosen the grip of the floor on your feet, and you take the few steps over to him.  That, and a small memory you wish you could bat away, the words on a form your best friend had shoved under your nose, and the way you had rolled your eyes at it…

He sits on the couch and seems to pull you over his lap in one smooth motion.  You hear the brush clatter on the small coffee table in front of you, and he adjusts your body slightly.  Then his hand is landing on your backside, and you understand at least one thing with perfect clarity: he is taking his part in this very seriously.  Every single swat hurts.

About the time your feet start to kick involuntarily, he decides it’s time to spank with one less layer of protection.  You still have your underwear, but they don’t seem to be doing any good. You wiggle here and there, and you can’t help the small noises that seem to leak out, especially when he concentrates on your sit-spots.  Before too long, he pulls your underwear down, too, and you bury your face in the couch cushions.

He glides his hand gently over your sore bottom, assessing the state of things, you are sure.  You hope to heaven that he’s going to deem you all spanked out, but you know this won’t be the case.  You know it for sure when you feel him reach over and grab the hairbrush.

When he starts spanking you again, you almost immediately throw a hand back from pure shock.  He snatches up your wrist and pins it to your back, never breaking his tempo.  It burns and stings and just plain hurts!  All of this over a registration form??

As if reading your thoughts, Principal Hayes begins to lecture you again as he spanks.  A man of many talents, you think in spite of yourself, but it isn’t funny enough to distract from the bite of the hairbrush, or the bite of his words.

“This is, of course, not just about your registration.  It is important– let me be clear about that.  You are old enough to assume responsibility for such a simple task.  But this is also about identifying a pattern of behaviors.  This is about recognizing your ability to change some simple things about your life that will both help you grow as well as help you stop inconveniencing those around you.  It is time to stop taking adults for granted, and become a responsible adult yourself.”

You are full on kicking right now, unable to keep still over his lap and worried than in another minute you are going to fly right off of it.  And about another minute later, you are almost right; luckily he stops spanking you and puts the brush down again.  He releases your arm, and you tuck it under your head as you try to catch your breath.  Principal Hayes rubs your back in a comforting way, and it does work, even though you can feel the heat radiating from his palm.  You’ll understand if I don’t feel sorry for you, you think at him dryly.  Your bottom throbs along with your heartbeat. You feel embarrassed and small and very very sorry. He made his point well – this really all could have been avoided. Facing your own poor judgment is painful, but now you have paid for it at least. Maybe and then some, you think with a wince.

He offers words of comfort, too, in his firm but reassuring way.  “I expect better from you because I know you are capable of better.  I expect I will see you again in this office at some point, but it better not be soon.”  You squirm; the lack of judgement in his tone is somehow embarrassing, as if it is a given that you need spankings to behave yourself.  You vow to yourself to prove him wrong.  Which in another way, would prove him right, you guess.

You’ll have to think about that one later.  For now, he is helping you re-dress and then giving you a hug and a few more words of advice and encouragement.  You aren’t eager to face your classmates, yet again with a freshly spanked bottom, but then, aren’t you all in the same predicament?  Cheeky Academy is nothing if not thorough.  You grab your bag, wince at the half bend you have to do to pick it up.  You walk to your next class, noticing some turnover in the line to the dean’s office.  The door is closed now, but you hear someone in there squealing, wonder if it’s the girl from the corner, and move a little faster. This time, you slip into your chair gingerly, but still you flinch.  It’s going to be a long afternoon.

Justice

Standard

This follows The Clearing.

Phillipa shut her eyes as her governess secured her wrists around the smooth bark of a maple tree.  Helena used the same blue handkerchief the princess had picked out so carefully weeks ago.  She opened her eyes again and stared into the wood, vaguely aware of Abraham’s blurry figure in her periphery.

Her cheek was pressed against the trunk and her feet planted in the soil.  Helena and the girl– Camilla, of course, Phillipa knew her name but just never had occasion to use it– had tied up her skirts and spread her pantaloons as well.  The princess could feel any minor disturbance in the clearing’s air on her swollen and exposed bottom.  Her heart thumped in her chest, fear driving its rhythm.  She had nothing to offer any of them: she had tried.  What had become clear to her was that they had the upper hand, and what they wanted now was retribution.

Suddenly Helena was in her line of sight again, reaching over to run a quick finger across Phillipa’s wet and muddied cheek.  She looked into the older woman’s eyes and saw pity along with affection.  “I don’t feel a bit sorry for the hiding you’re about to receive, nor the one I just gave you, Princess.  I am sorry it has taken so long for me to take you in hand.  You’ll be better for this, but first… first you have to get through it.”

Fresh tears welled in Phillipa’s eyes as her governess walked away.  She wasn’t sure why, or if she believed the woman entirely, but she was starting to understand her.  And more than any emotional toll, she knew things were about to become very painful.  Abraham didn’t give her a warning before the first lick of his heavy strap landed.  Phillipa was too shocked to make any noise at first, and so there was only the steady thwap of leather against skin.  Then her lungs released the breath they’d held captive and the princess screamed into the forest.

The strap fell regardless, over and over again on the round curve of her royal bottom, making her jump and wiggle and twist against the sturdy tree trunk.  She’d turned her noise to begging, every bit of oxygen spent on “Please, pleeeeassee, I beseech you,” and “I swear I shall be good, on my honor, on my honor!”  Still, Abraham continued until her sobs overtook her pleas.  Then he stopped, as abruptly as he’d begun, and she relaxed muscles she didn’t even realize she had been clenching.  The silence felt heavy in the absence of the strap, but she couldn’t contain her crying.  After a moment, Helena came to her again, loosing her wrists and using the handkerchief to clean the princess’s face.  Phillipa reached behind her, moaning as her fingers touched the hot skin of her bottom.

That morning, she would not have been able to describe anything more mortifying than having her naked backside exposed to a group of peasants.  Now, she could barely fathom the thin cloth of her undergarments touching her bruised skin.  It occurred to her suddenly that they must ride horses back to the castle, and fresh tears coursed down her face.  The blue cloth was instantly dabbing at her cheeks against, but behind the gentle touch came a firm voice.  “Compose yourself, little girl.  And make your apologies.”

Phillipa took a deep breath and turned to see Abraham and Camilla standing together, looking at her.  She filled her lungs again slowly, and then said in a shaky voice, “My humblest apologies for the pain I have caused you both, and especially you, Camilla.”  Despite her best efforts, tears pricked her eyes again.  Phillipa would have reached for the other woman’s hand if they had stood closer, though she doubted the whipping girl wanted any touch from her.  Still, she felt genuine remorse coursing through her and she looked solemnly into the other woman’s face.  “I am so sorry,” she finished.

Camilla nodded, accepting the apology.  Abraham made no indication that he had even heard the princess speak, except to kiss the top of his wife’s head.  “We will see you in the princess’s chambers tomorrow, Camilla,” the governess said from behind Phillipa.  The woman’s hand came to rest on the princess’s shoulder.  Camilla nodded again, then turned with her husband, and they left down the same faint trail by which they’d come.

“Let’s get you righted, Princess.  We still have quite a bit of day left, and we need you to look presentable.”  Phillipa nodded numbly, following the guiding touches of her caretaker as she tied ribbons and buttoned buttons, covering the girl’s well-spanked bottom and turning her back into a seemingly dignified child of the monarch.  She felt small and docile, hesitating only when Helena bade her mount her horse.

The governess produced a thick blanket from her saddlebag, and Phillipa blushed anew at the idea of someone preparing for her current state.  The blanket could not have done much to ease the ride, but the thought was enough to propel the princess upward and into the saddle.  The path back was long and painful, but Phillipa did survive.  She glared at the staff as if nothing had transpired, playing the part of the haughty young royal as always.  And if a few of the stable boys noticed that her eyes were a bit puffy, her gait a bit stiff, and her tongue a bit softer?

None of them said a word.

After School Special

Standard

Jade tapped her pencil impatiently on the desk where she sat. She’d started attending a tutoring course twice a week, and today she was the only student there. It made her feel even more resentful of the extra work than usual, especially now with the days finally getting longer. All she wanted was to be outside.

”I can’t do it,” she said aloud to Emma, the girl who ran the program. Since Jade was the only one here, the other tutors had been sent home. Unfortunately, that meant Emma was getting the brunt of Jade’s agitation. She walked over and leaned down to look at the problem.

”Where are you stuck?” she asked. Usually Emma seemed warm and friendly, but today she seemed curt. Jade wanted to see her lose her composure, just once.

”All of it,” she said, waving her hand over the page, a vague indication that the problem lie therein.

”Okay, well, I can’t help you if you can’t explain to me what you don’t understand here.”

“If I could explain it, I wouldn’t be here in the first place,” Jade said smartly.

Emma took a deep breath, as if she was summoning her patience. Jade smirked, deriving a small sense of accomplishment from Emma’s now-audible exasperation. She was usually so patient and smiley that it annoyed Jade just on principle.

Emma took notice of Jade’s amusement.

“Yes, failing your classes is hilarious,” said Emma, barely containing an eye roll.

”I’m not failing!” shot back Jade. “Maybe my grades would be higher if I had a better tutor.”

”Maybe your tutor would be better if this wasn’t a waste of her time!” Emma replied defensively. She saw the words hit Jade, and her mouth fell open. “I didn’t mean like you can’t do it at all! I just meant because today…”

“I don’t think it matters what you meant. I think it matters what you said,” came a voice from the door. Jade looked up and saw Dr. Kendrick standing in the classroom entrance, arms crossed and eyes laser focused on Emma. Jade looked at the other girl, confused by what was happening and why her professor was here at all.

”Hi,” Emma said faintly.

”Hi,” Dr. Kendrick said evenly, then he looked at Jade and said, “Hi, Jade, how are you?”

”Fine, thanks,” she said awkwardly, slouching in her seat. She looked up at Emma, who was chewing on her lip. She seemed to feel Jade’s gaze, because she looked down and said “Sorry.”

Despite her clear anxiety about the professor hearing her snap, Emma didn’t seem that sorry to Jade. Or not as sorry as Jade wanted her to be. Really though, Jade was just mad she had lost the game. She had wanted Emma to lose her cool, but she’d shown her own emotions, too.

”Alright, whatever,” she said, closing her book. “I’ll be back for the next one.”

She knew she wasn’t going to be able to concentrate now, plus the tension in the room was giving her anxiety.

”Okay,” said Emma, sounding nothing like her usual bubbly self. “Sorry again.”

”It’s fine,” Jade said, ready to be gone. “Bye,” she said to Dr. Kendrick as she walked past him and out the door. He nodded at her and entered the room as she left. She stopped just outside the classroom and squatted down, opening her backpack. It was a mess of papers and folders, but she wanted to stuff her math book in there, too. She began to rearrange.

”What was that about, young lady?”

Jade almost jumped out of her skin. She looked around, but was still alone in the hallway. It had sounded like Dr. Kendrick was standing over her, but it was some trick of the old building’s acoustics.

Before she could contemplate the phenomenon further, she heard Emma’s voice. “I didn’t mean to be rude, she was just pushing me the whole time she was here and it was frustrating!”

”That sounds like an excuse to me. I was coming to tell you that I’m going to be home late because we have a seminar tonight. But now I think we need to visit my office before you head out.”

Oh they’re together, Jade thought, her heart in her throat. And he was going to…

”I said I was sorry,” she heard Emma say, her voice quiet. Jade could still make out every word. She sounded pitiful.

She felt guilt creeping in on her; it didn’t seem like Dr. Kendrick was going to change his mind. She subconsciously rubbed her backside, remembering the ruler Lisa had used from his desk. And she had literally made it her mission to make little miss sunshine lose her temper.

”I haven’t seen many apologies less convincing than that one.”

”But she was—“

”We’re not talking about her, sweetheart. Let’s go, please.”

Jade’s heart jumped into her throat as she heard their footsteps approaching the hallway. She shoved her book into her bag, gathering the whole thing in her arms without zipping it and standing up.

It was too late. Dr. Kendrick stopped when he saw her and Emma walked into him. She turned and saw Jade, too, and jumped back, almost behind the professor. She looked as mortified as Jade felt.

”Jade,” he said, his voice clipped. “Did you forget something?”

”No, I… my backpack was full and I… I wasn’t trying to hear… I didn’t…” Jade fumbled and then blurted out, “I was picking at her the whole time. She only snapped because of me.”

Her professor looked as if he were about to say one thing, but reconsidered at the last second and said, “I’m sorry to hear that. I hope you’ll be nicer in the future.”

“But… so you shouldn’t…” Jade didn’t want to say it outright, but Dr. Kendrick didn’t let her continue.

”Thank you for your concern,” he said kindly but firmly. “I will see you in class.”

“Then I should come!” Jade said. “I should come, too.”

Dr. Kendrick eyed her appraisingly, while Emma shook her head almost violently behind him, her eyes wide.

Jade had déjà vu as the memory of a similar situation floated up in her brain. She hadn’t understood before what it felt like to be on this side of it. Now she did.

”I… I deserve it,” she finished lamely.

Dr. Kendrick and Emma seemed to have a quick wordless conversation, after which the professor turned to Jade.  “Alright,” he said after a few more painfully silent seconds. “To my office.”

~   ~   ~

Jade awkwardly set her still open backpack on the floor out of the way, then stood next to Emma, who was standing on the sides of her feet, mid-fidget. She saw the wooden ruler jutting out of the same organizer as before, and she gave it withering look.

Dr. Kendrick stood behind his desk and crossed his arms. “Emma, I don’t expect you to lose your temper like that. You know better. And I’m not interested in the excuses. You had better options available than the one you took. And Jade,” he continued, “I don’t like hearing that you were purposefully trying to provoke Emma. She is here volunteering her time, when she could be anywhere else, to an organization in which she believes and from which you are benefiting.”

Jade felt the heat rising up her chest and neck. She felt about two feet tall, and she could tell Emma felt the same way. She should have just sucked it up, or at least gone home so Emma could leave, too. Instead she was back in this stupid office.

“Jade, are you sure you want to stay? If you do, I intend—“

”I know!” Jade said hurriedly. “I know.” She was blushing furiously but it was better than having him say it. “You met Lisa,” she added with a shrug.

Dr. Kendrick nodded thoughtfully and said, “I did. But as I was saying….” Emma groaned quietly in the short pause here… “Jade, you will find a corner while Emma receives her spanking.” He moved a straight back chair from said corner, scooting the larger cushioned chair away and placing this one in the middle of the room as he talked. “And then, since we agree that you have earned it— and please understand, I do believe you have— Emma will take your place in the corner and you will have a turn across my knee.“

Jade took a deep breath and forced herself to walk over to the corner. It was all she could do to prevent herself from running out the door. She put her  hands in her pockets and leaned her head against the wall.

~   ~   ~

Emma couldn’t stop moving as she watched Danny set the chair down.  It was the same one he’d sat upon the first time he’d spanked her, in the very same spot.  Since then, she’d found herself on the receiving end of his discipline more times than she could count on two hands, and even a few times here in his office.  This was the first time she was going back across his knee here, though.

And that girl from the program was here!  Emma’s stomach was in knots.  He’d actually told her about this student several weeks ago, confiding in her the unplanned meeting they’d had, and how he’d recommended Emma’s program.  She couldn’t believe that Jade had come in here willingly. Then again, Emma herself had once made the decision to enter this office, even knowing what that would mean for her bottom.  She also had deserved it.

And boy, did Jade deserve it this time.  A wave of anger washed over Emma as she thought about the many comments the girl had made that afternoon.  It had only been a matter of time before Emma snapped!  It had been nice when Jade stuck up for her there at the end, but still. Wasn’t going to save her now.

Emma suddenly realized that she hadn’t been minding her features as she let her emotions rush through her.  Danny was looking at her with a finger on his chin and his other arm across his middle, as if studying her. Crap, she thought.  She wanted him to think she was subdued and sorry.

His arms fell to his sides as he sat down, reaching over to pull her gently to his left side and then guide her across his lap.  She shifted, feeling the butterflies in her stomach swarm again.  She knew that by the end of this, she would be genuinely subdued and sorry.  Part of her was ready, knew that this angry feeling was, deep down, the real reason she was being spanked.  She really hadn’t meant to insult Jade; she had meant that Jade was wasting her time that afternoon specifically.  But her tone had been so spiteful and fed up that she had sounded very mean.

Part of Emma wanted to hang on to that feeling, to prove to Danny that her anger was bigger and scarier than whatever he was going to do to her.  Not that this had ever been true in the past, but still… maybe this time.

He pulled up her dress, and she flushed but reminded herself that Jade was facing a corner and wouldn’t see anything. She would hear everything, of course, but Emma took the small comfort for what it was. She felt Danny rubbing her back with his right hand, tricking her body into relaxing. He ran his fingers through her hair and she pushed back a little into his touch. Quietly, he said, “Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be, young lady.”

She squirmed as she felt him disentangle his fingers from her hair and adjust her body slightly. The way he could read her mood…

Then his hand cracked down on her panty-clad bottom, and she lost her train of thought.

Even as the heat began to build in Emma’s hindquarters, as little squeaks slipped from her mouth, her mind also found space to wonder how she kept finding herself with company.  She couldn’t decide if it made the spanking more intimate or less. She kicked her feet a little. It definitely didn’t seem to make a difference to Danny; he spanked just as hard regardless.

Ugh, Danny. He hadn’t even started lecturing yet, which meant he planned to keep going for a while. She was already having a hard time staying still. At least Jade couldn’t see her wiggling. Jade was going to hear Danny scold her, though. Emma felt a little smaller when she thought about that. Maybe she didn’t mind waiting on that part after all.

~~~

Jade winced as she heard a particularly hard swat land. She was happy to have her nose in the corner for perhaps the first time ever. She was listening to her professor spank her tutor, and thought it should feel more awkward than it did. She guessed maybe she just had too many other emotions going on to make room for awkward though. Like nervousness. Like anticipation. Like guilt.

As if reading her thoughts, Professor Kendrick began to speak over the steady rise and fall of his palm. “Emma, I did not like what I heard in that classroom. And I did not like your attempt to pass the blame on to someone else.”

Jade blushed furiously in the corner. It was weird to be the “someone else.”

”I don’t expect you to put up with someone who is picking on you, which our friend in the corner has admitted she was doing.”

Jade closed her eyes. Heat was pouring out of the collar of her shirt.

”But you had options.”

He emphasized his words with swats that echoed in the small space. Next came a short pause and a quick shriek from Emma. Jade had a feeling she knew what had just happened. She self-consciously felt the thin line of her underwear beneath her jeans.

The spanking resumed. “An intelligent and resourceful young lady like yourself had multiple options. Tell me one of them.”

Without thinking, Jade let out a groan. To her horror, the room became suddenly silent. She pushed herself further into the corner and held her breath. She hadn’t meant to make any noises, but she hated answering questions during a spanking. She’d felt Emma’s pain.

”Jade, do you have something to add to this discussion?”

She shook her head, then felt the weight of the silence that followed and said aloud, “No thank you.”

”I beg your pardon?”

It took Jade a second to realize what he wanted; then she blushed and said “No, sir.” Several seconds ticked by while she worried that he would have more to say, followed by waves of relief and sympathy as he returned his attention to Emma.

A single swat landed, sharp and sudden, and Dr. Kendrick spoke over Emma’s yelp as if there had been no detour toward the girl in the corner. “I’m waiting.”

”I…” her voice had a strange quality, echoing off the floor before reaching Jade’s ears. “I could have been more patient.”

Jade heard him patting her bottom, and he said, “Maybe. But you are already very patient. You have a lot of self-control.”

Jade was so confused. As far as she could tell, Dr. Kendrick had just told Emma she hadn’t done anything wrong after all. She rocked up onto her toes in the corner, waiting anxiously to hear what Emma would come up with.

~   ~   ~

Emma knew what exactly Danny wanted but she didn’t like it and certainly didn’t want to say it aloud. He would have categorized today’s infraction as one of Emma’s “greatest hits,” which made her want to deny it even more.  His hand came down sharply again on her now-bared backside, and she sucked in her breath. “I don’t know!” she said, frustrated, but that only earned her another hard swat. The same mood that had plagued her all afternoon pushed her now, and despite her screaming instincts, she doubled down. “Danny, I don’t know!”

Her spanking immediately resumed at this new level, which should have been predictable but surprised Emma anyway.  She squealed and pushed her hands against Danny’s thigh, feet kicking just inches above the floor.  Her stubbornness sat like a boulder in the pit of her stomach, large and hard and not as impervious to the elements as one might think.  Slowly it eroded, shrinking until it was more bother than boulder, and Emma finally squeezed her eyes shut and said, “I know!  I know Danny, I know.”

Instead of stopping or even slowing down, he moved his giant palm down to her sensitive sit-spots and the tops of her thighs.  She shrieked, feeling the last ball of resistance crumble.  He seemed to feel it slip away, and finally he did slow and then stop spanking her. When the room was quiet except for Emma’s ragged breathing, he said “Then tell me.”

“I should have gone home.  I should have let one of the other volunteers stay and be in charge instead of trying to do everything.”

She said it all in one big breath, then left her lungs empty for several seconds as she waited for Danny to accept her answer.  She knew it was right, knew it was what he wanted to hear, but couldn’t ignore the throbbing of her bottom now and it made her cautious.  When she felt the muscles of Danny’s legs shift beneath her, she finally sucked in air and relaxed.  Moments later she was sitting in his lap, hot bottom dangling between his knees, as he told her how proud he was of her for the many things she had accomplished but also for so much more.  She flushed at the praise and buried her face in neck, enjoying the contact before it was her turn in the corner.

~   ~   ~

Jade only heard mumbling at the end, as she shifted nervously from foot to foot.  She was restless and ready to be anywhere else, but the only path out sounded awfully grim.  She had, of course, contemplated the door several times, but she couldn’t see herself walking away scot-free even then.  Her stubborn sense of justice wouldn’t permit it, for one, especially now that Emma had actually gone through with her punishment.

For another, she’d never be able to look at Dr. Kendrick again, and that wouldn’t go over well at home.  A shiver ran down her spine as she thought about trying to tell Lisa she wasn’t attending class any more.  Seemed like she was headed for a spanking one way or another, and at least this felt a little under control.  Although really how was she going to look at Dr. Kendrick again anyway, after this?  She glanced at the door once more, but this time she was interrupted by direct address.

“Jade, would you come here please?”  Jade turned on the heel of her shoe, and found herself looking directly into the face of Emma, who had come to take her place in the corner. The other girl looked so pitiful that Jade almost threw her arms around her.  “Sorry,” she mouthed.  Emma walked past her after that, before Jade could mouth anything back, but she hoped the “Me, too” was evident on her face.

Now she looked up as she stepped next to her professor’s side.  Eye contact with him was much different, and she couldn’t maintain it.  Unlike Lisa, though, he didn’t make her try.  Instead he said gently, “Are you usually spanked over jeans?”

Jade thought her heart would beat out of her chest, but she shook her head once, then undid the buttons and shoved her jeans down before she could think about it.  Dr. Kendrick gave an approving nod, and then gestured at his waiting lap.  Again, before she could think about it, she threw herself over.

She wasn’t as uncomfortable as she thought she would be, even knowing that she was about to be punished.  She and Dr. Kendrick had spent a decent amount of time together outside of class; he had taken on the role of her unofficial advisor.  And he and Lisa seemed to be forming a friendship as well, having found overlaps beyond both being educators.  So Jade felt… safe.  And that was very important.

It didn’t stop her from jumping when Dr. Kendrick patted her bottom; she tightened her grip on the rung of the chair as he began to speak.

“It has been a privilege to get to know you over the last several months, Jade, and I am looking forward to seeing you again this semester.  This also means my expectations have increased, as I have seen what a quality person you are.  Are you proud of the way you acted today?”

“No sir,” Jade said stiffly.  Unlike Emma, there was no trace of stubbornness in Jade.  She had spent too much time in the corner, and besides that, she usually got her rebellion out early.  By the time she was actually facing the consequences, Jade was usually already very sorry.

“I wouldn’t think so.  You are better than that.”  Without further lecturing, Jade felt the warmth of Dr. Kendrick’s hand lift from her underwear and then descend again.  Stoic wasn’t in the cards for Jade, and she wiggled back and forth as he spanked her.  Regret washed over her as she thought about how silly today had been, what a waste.  Maybe Emma should have left, but Jade should have made the same choice.  She wasn’t any further along in her studies than she had been an hour ago, and now she had an increasingly sore backside for her troubles.

She kicked at the ugly linoleum tiles, knuckles taught as she squeezed the chair rung tightly.  In the corner, she thought she’d worried plenty about whether she’d get a spanking as bad as Emma’s, and then worrying that she wouldn’t, and then wondering what was fair.  Now, she worried about nothing except the swats as they fell; she was learning that the worst spanking was always the one you were getting right that second.

When it finally ended, Jade was only sure that she had been thoroughly chastised.  Her bottom felt too big for her jeans when she was allowed to pull them back up, and she was sure she’d be able to find individual hand prints on her bottom when she later checked the mirror.  She welcomed the hug Dr. Kendrick offered, though she took her cuddles standing.

Emma didn’t wait to be called from the corner, instead turning and flinging her arms around Jade the moment she stepped out of Dr. Kendrick’s embrace.  Jade was taken aback, but relaxed into the second hug immediately.  She herself might not be so free with her emotions, but she appreciated being around those who were.  She smiled when they parted, and said “Thank you.  And sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.  You are really great and we should hang out sometime when it doesn’t involve numbers and mean professors.”  Jade saw her wink at their common enemy over her shoulder and grinned when she saw him smiling. too.

“Yeah, we should.  I would like that,” she replied.

All I Want for Christmas

Standard

Emma smiled up at Danny from beneath the glow of their newly decorated tree.

“Looks perfect,” he said, giving her shoulder a squeeze. She bit her lip, an impish gleam in her eye. “Know what we’re missing?” she asked.

He raised an eyebrow at her and said, “We cut our own tree. We made and drank mulled cider. We listened to Mariah Carey. What could we possibly be missing?”

Emma disentangled herself from his arm and walked toward the dormant hearth below the tv in their living room. “A fire!” she said, her arm sweeping back in a grand gesture.

”Ah,” said Danny. “I see you have absorbed too much Christmas cheer and now have unrealistic expectations about how this evening is going to proceed.”

Emma could hear that he was being playful and saying no at the same time. Her bottom lip protruded and she said “I’m serious. I want a fire!”

Danny considered her for a moment, but his answer didn’t change. “Not tonight, baby. It’s not really cold enough out for one, but we also haven’t used the fireplace since last February. I’ll have someone come this week and clear the chimney, if you’re ready for us to start using it this season.”

”I’m ready right now,” she pouted, crossing her arms.

”Ready for bed, I think,” Danny said, slipping easily into his no-nonsense voice. “We’re not going to end this lovely day with a tantrum.”

Emma opened her mouth to reply, then thought better of it. She nodded as her jaw snapped shut, even managing a small smile. Tonight clearly wasn’t an option., but Danny would be gone tomorrow afternoon and as far as Emma was concerned, she hadn’t agreed to anything.

~   ~   ~

The fire made everything perfect, just as Emma had pictured. They had a modest woodpile outside, and she’d had to swallow her excitement as she waited for Danny to leave for his last meeting of the semester. She knew he wouldn’t be thrilled with her, but had just about convinced herself that he would be okay as long as everything went according to plan— and it did!

She thought he was just being paranoid, and blamed the lack of a real fire in his childhood home. Emma had none of the same reservations, and had built the fire with ease and confidence.

Somehow, she didn’t quite grasp how unhappy he would be until the moment she heard his keys in the door. A mild panic descended as her brain screamed, “This was a mistake! A huge mistake!”

It was too late to fix it now. Danny was walking inside, laying his briefcase on the kitchen table, and walking in her direction. “Wait,” she squeaked, “look first, look first! It all turned out fine.”

To her surprise, he did stop. His jaw twitched, but after a second he spoke. “Emma Grace, go find a corner.”

“But Danny the tree—“

“Find. A different. Corner.”

Emma glanced around the room, deciding speed was better than precision, and walked to the corner opposite the tree. There was a speaker there, but she got as close as she could and then put her hands behind her back.

A moment later, she heard Danny walking upstairs, then almost immediately back down. That meant one thing.

The hairbrush.

~   ~   ~

It was beside him on the couch when he called her over, and she winced reflexively.  “Walk faster,” Danny said as she inched her way toward him, and Emma sped up. Once at his knee, he looked up at her disapprovingly.

“I can’t believe I have to put you across my knee this close to Christmas, and for something so childish.”

“Aww, Danny,” Emma said, blushing and tugging at the hem of her sweater. “I just knew it would be okay…”

“You thought it would be okay. You hoped it would be okay. You knew that I asked you to wait.”

“Okay, but—“

“You were supposed to put your corner time to better purpose.  I’ll check in again when I think you are feeling less argumentative.” With that, Danny reached up and took a hold of Emma’s wrist, pulling her across his waiting lap. Her skirt fell high around her stomach and her tights found themselves mid-thigh in short order. Danny’s hand crashed down on her panties, a blue pair with white snowflakes that had been picked with deliberate cheer just that morning.

Now Emma gave no thought to her undergarments, distracted as she was by the crack of Danny’s palm on her bottom. She soon pushed her own palms against his thigh, straining against the spanking.

Dan paid no mind to her discomfort as he began to question her, leading her slowly down the path to its inevitable conclusion: contrition alongside the hairbrush.  He was, as a rule, taken with Emma’s seemingly endless practical knowledge (she’d taught him how to build a proper fire when they’d first rented the house).  But his admiration of her skills did not extend to her impulsive need for immediate results.  He would have listened if she’d wanted to make a case that morning, and made his own case if she’d been willing to hear it.

But that wasn’t what had happened, and now Emma was squirming and kicking by the light of the fire she’d built and the tree they had cut.  They were a mostly silent audience, paying no mind when Danny eventually lowered his girlfriend’s underwear, or later when he picked up the brush.  The smack of the wood on Emma’s bottom was different, and her protests changed dramatically, but the crackle of the fire and the silence of the Virginia pine remained the same.

“What was the rush, little girl?” Danny finally asked, slowing the steady stream of swats as he awaited her answer.

Sore and increasingly sorry, Emma said, “There wasn’t one!  I just wanted it and I’m sorry!”

Danny brought the brush down harder, ensuring that she’d feel the effects of this spanking well into tomorrow, and said “Never acceptable.  You will abide by the rules we set or you will convince me to change them.  There is no third option.  Is that understood?”

“It’s understood, Danny!  It is, it is!” Emma said finally flinging her hand back to cover her aching bottom.  It was snatched up in short order, just as the hairbrush began to land with more frequency on her sit spots.  No amount of kicking seemed to distract the wooden implement from its intended target, and no amount of apologizing seemed to slow Danny down.

Of course, he was listening to her every moan, groan, and plea. And when he felt confident that she was as regretful now as she’d been impetuous before, he did put the  hairbrush down.  He adjusted her underwear, then moved to tug her tights back up. She growled somewhat pitifully at his movement, and he left them be with a smile.  Moments later she was tugging them off as she sat on his lap.  They fell from her toes and she curled into his chest, attempting to put more weight on her hip than her bottom.

Danny helped her balance, kissed her forehead, and said “All finished, baby.  And regardless of whether you should have or not, you did build a beautiful fire.”

Emma grunted into his chest, rubbed her bottom, and said, “So did you, I guess.”

Silence followed as Danny registered her joke.  Emma didn’t see him roll his eyes, but she felt his chest rise as he tried to stifle his laughter.  She smiled, getting the proof she always needed that she was forgiven.  And of course, finally– things really were perfect.