Author Archives: Gracie

About Gracie

Just a 30 year old spanko who writes stories. I'm not bad at it. Let me know if you have any ideas. Maybe I'll use them. Look me up on fetlife, if you feel so inclined.

The Whipping Girl

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Helena sighed as she eyed the smug face of her charge, Princess Phillipa. The young woman was reporting to her for chastisement, having nicked a basketful of treats from the kitchen that morning. The cook would be getting an earful from Helena later, because he had gone straight to the king instead of the governess, which meant she had to dole out what would be deemed a proper punishment- and to the King, that meant a spanking. Helena didn’t have a problem spanking Phillipa; she would like nothing better, in fact. However, it was the law of the land that no one could touch a hair on the young royal’s head, and so every swat landed on the poor rear end of Camilla, a young peasant woman who had been plucked from the village and “honored” with the task of accepting the princess’s punishments with as much grace as she could muster.

This was how they found themselves in the Discipline Room, a small space reserved for just such events. At the front was a raised platform, on which sat a straight-backed wooden chair. Behind the platform, mounted on the wall, was an intimidating array of paddles, canes, and straps. Helena eyed them as she walked down the center of the room, between three short rows of benches. The room could probably seat two dozen people comfortably, though Helena had never seen it close to filled. Today, there were three spectators: the cook, who sat on the right row closest to the door, looking pompous; his assistant, who sat beside him, looking curious; and the King himself, who sat on a small throne against the back left wall.

The Princess followed the governess in, walking obediently with downcast eyes and a wholly fake attitude of compliance. The King might see her as a contrite little girl, but the governess knew her for the conniving young woman she was. All of Helena’s sympathies were with Camilla, who sat nervously on the front row, awaiting punishment she hadn’t earned or asked for, but would nevertheless be recieving. It was her job to endure the spanking just as it was Helena’s to give it, and they would both be fulfilling their duties today.

The governess reached the chair and seated herself, arranging her long black and grey skirts around her legs so they pooled on the stone floor by her feet. Phillipa stood to her left, hands clasped behind her, looking down at the waiting lap, the corner of her mouth slightly turned up in a smirk no one but Helena could see. Helena’s own mouth was a tight line, and she was satisfied to see the princess’s smile fade when they made eye contact. Helena knew how to make the princess behave without laying a finger on her, which was how she’d kept the position longer than any other governess, and most of the staff knew better than go over her head. The cook was new. He would learn, though.

“I am so very disappointed to hear about the theft of pastries from the kitchens, Phillipa. You could have anything you desired with a simple request, but you chose to be naughty and disrupted Cook’s work. For this, you will receive a spanking and a strapping on your bare bottom, witnessed by your father the King.”

“Yes, Governess,” came the docile reply, and Helena patted her lap. Camilla rose from her bench and came forward, mirroring Phillipa’s position on Helena’s right side. Both women wore fine dresses over puffy white pantaloons, though the room would be treated to a view of only one pair. Phillipa took the whipping girl’s newly vacated seat, which would give her a perfect view of the other woman’s soon to be bared bottom. Helena turned, sympathy gone from her face now that she had a task to hone her focus. She lifted Camilla’s skirts, and the woman obediently reached to hold them up as the governess reached for the loosely tied strings that would allow the back of her billowy white underwear to fall open. Camilla’s face became heated with embarrassment, and Helena wasted no time. She pulled the girl across her lap, adjusted her slightly, and then began applying the palm of her hand with quick vigorous swats.

As the girl’s bottom became more heated, her feet began to kick. Helena glanced at the face of the princess, and noticed a look of glee at this development. No one else could see, as all eyes were focused on the girl being spanked, but Helena saw and she didn’t like it. She paused and rubbed the bottom in front of her, leaning down as she did to whisper firmly in Camilla’s ear, “Keep still. Not so much as a twitch.”

She heard a little moan escape the woman, so low no one else would hear, but Helena ignored the pitiful sound and resumed the spanking, not holding anything back as the swats echoed in the small chamber. She was pleased to see Camilla’s feet still, toes pointed obediently toward the floor. She could feel the muscles of the whipping girl’s stomach tighten occasionally, especially when harder swats fell low across her bottom. They were tense and hard against the governess’s sturdy thighs. Helena knew it felt cruel, that in some ways it was cruel to be spanking the woman so hard from the start. She wouldn’t being doing her any favors if she didn’t warm her up properly, though. There was still the strap to come, and the watchful eye of the King.

Mindful of this, Helena bent over, pulling the young woman’s body closer with her left arm and swinging her right arm mightily, listening to the carefully controlled breathing that she knew was Camilla’s only hope of being still. Eventually her arm slowed, then stopped, and she rubbed small circles across the girl’s back and bottom. She took a moment to look at the King, whose impassive face shared little of his thoughts. The cook looked mortified, as did his assistant, both embarrassed to witness the humiliation of an innocent girl. Phillipa looked bored, which satisfied Helena. There was no chance of the selfish princess feeling genuine contrition, so the best the governess could hope for was to not provide a show for the spoiled young woman. She eased Camilla up, then stood herself and arranged the whipping girl so that she was bent over the chair, bottom blazing and bared, framed by the white pantaloons that contrasted sharply with the color of her freshly spanked backside, face turned up toward the wall of implements.

The governess made a show of looking sternly at the princess, then eyeing the display, as if contemplating the appropriate measure to take. In reality, she knew exactly which strap she planned to use. It was a brown and supple piece of leather, heavy and loud, hanging by its polished wooden handle. She saw Camilla looking at the canes, wide-eyed at the quantify of them, ranging from whippy and thin to thick and terrifying. Despite her penchant for trouble, Phillipa hadn’t managed to get the whipping girl caned… yet.

Helena took her favorite strap, and moved to bend down face to face with the waiting and embarrassed woman leaning over the chair. She tipped her chin up slightly with her finger, and said in a low voice that carried only from her mouth to the girl’s ear: “Not a wiggle. Not a peep.” Camilla shut her eyes tight for a second and then opened them again, meeting Helena’s and whispering, “yes ma’am.” The governess walked slowly to the edge of the platform, affording her plenty of room to swing. She announced loudly, as the King would expect, “Twenty two with the leather. One for every year of your life, Princess Phillipa. May we not have to repeat this lesson again.” And with that, she brought the strap sizzling down on the bared bottom in front of her, letting the echo of the sharp “thwack” die off before she bought it down again, and again, until she had reached twenty-two. She was proud to see that Camilla had listened, kept her stoic silence until the end, letting the only evidence of her struggle be her white-knuckled grip on the chair.

The governess turned and looked to the King, who nodded. Phillipa stood and practically pranced to the back of the room, going to stand by her father and laying her head sweetly on his hand where it rested. “Have you learned your lesson?” he asked. “Oh yes, Papa. That was just terrible. I’ll never do it again,” she said, her voice saccharine sweet. “Good girl,” he replied, standing and putting an arm around her, and he walked with her out out the room, without a glance back toward the stage. The cook and his assistant followed awkwardly.

“Good girl,” whispered Helena quietly as she fixed Camilla’s pantaloons and lowered her skirts gently. “Such a very good girl.”

No Passing Zone

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“Go back! I like that song!” Jade said from the driver’s seat as she and Lisa headed home from a morning spent at the park with friends. Lisa fiddled with the stations, flipping back a few, and asking, “this one?”

“Yeah,” responded Jade, immediately beginning to sing along. Lisa, indifferent to the radio, pulled up Instagram on her phone and was quickly absorbed by the app. She glanced up a minute later, though, startled to feel the car accelerate rapidly. Adrenaline rushed through her as she watched the red cab of an 18 wheeler barreling toward them, seeming to take up most of the front windshield. “Jade!” she yelled, even as she saw that they were passing another huge truck on the right.

The younger woman slid quickly back into her own lane, narrowly dodging both rigs and decelerating to match traffic as the hill they had just sped up tapered off to flat highway again. Both women were quiet for a moment, just the sound of top 40 hits chirping cheerfully at them as they both tried to slow their beating hearts. Finally Jade began, “That was…”

“A no-passing zone!” Lisa cut her off, her voice loud. “That was a no passing zone! What were you thinking?!”

Jade blushed, her own adrenaline tempered by the immediate dread that had settled over her, and said defensively, “it looked clear?”

“It looked clear,” Lisa repeated, letting the words hang in the air.  She let the quiet fill the car, until Jade couldn’t handle it and blurted, “It won’t happen again! Seriously, I know that was dumb. It was like the scariest moment of my life.”

“Get us home, little girl,” Lisa replied ominously. “It’s about to be the second scariest moment of your life.”

~ ~ ~

Jade did her best not to fidget in the corner of the living room where she now stood, hands behind her back and nose nearly touching the wall.  She wasn’t very good at corner time but she needed every ounce of good will she could muster from Lisa.  There were times when the woman’s patience brought to mind images of saints and angels. This was not one of those times. The rest of the ride home had been painfully silent, and the young woman wasn’t sure if she was dreading the spanking or the lecture that would surely accompany it more.

“Come here, young lady,” she heard from behind her. She turned to see Lisa seated on the couch, trusty hairbrush resting on the coffee table, and suddenly she was sure: she was way more scared of the spanking.

This was all too familiar now, though. Jade’s feet felt weighted as she dragged herself slowly to where her mentor sat, her face just as stern as it had been during the silent car ride home. That wasn’t good. Jade was sure she’d been in the corner for a solid 15 minute, which was long for Lisa. And she hadn’t appeared to have calmed down at all. Gulp.

Jade tried to make her face reflect how pitiful she felt right now. She didn’t have a good argument to make, and had kept herself from saying “but I made it” several times. She knew exactly how that would play out, and she liked her thighs the color they were, thanks all the same. And even she knew that it wasn’t a good argument anyway. She had gotten lucky. That was all there was to it.

So, she had her best “I’m sorry” frown in place when she stopped in front of the other woman, and even folded her hands compliantly behind her head without being asked. Lisa didn’t always start by taking Jade’s pants down, but the younger woman had a feeling. It didn’t stop her from shutting her eyes tight when Lisa reached up to undo her belt and unbutton her pants. Jade was startled into opening her eyes when she felt a hand on her hip, looking down to see Lisa grabbing Jade’s belt and pulling, watching it snake through the loops and then dangle there ominously.

Jade’s eyes went wide but she didn’t say anything, probably because Lisa was looking up with a dangerous “I dare you” face. But a voice in her mind yelled, “my belt? My own belt?!” She didn’t have time to contemplate further, though, because then her pants were around her ankles and she was pulled abruptly over Lisa’s lap, her hands leaving her head to catch herself on the couch. Her legs were moved up with infuriating ease, and she felt Lisa’s hand resting on her underwear-clad bottom as she asked, “Do I need to go over what happened today? Do I need to explain why I am about to spank your little backside all sorts of rosy?” Jade gulped again as she murmered, “no ma’am.”

“Good,” came Lisa’s voice, and then her hand was up and landing again, the muffled sound of her palm on the blue cotton underwear filling the room. Jade tried to stay still, but it was always a struggle at the beginning. She knew the spanking was going to get much worse before it got better, but those first swats always made her wiggle, and Lisa was clearly not in the mood for an extended warm up. All too soon, Jade felt her undies being pulled down, with hardly a missed beat between swats. The accompanying sound was much louder, sharp and echoey in the living room, and Jade clutched a pillow helplessly.

By the time Lisa’s hand stopped falling, Jade knew the dark skin of her bottom was a dusky rose shade, and she dreaded the next bit. She felt her body shift as her mentor reached over for the hairbrush, resting the cool wood on her hot bottom. She didn’t resume spanking immediately though, instead rubbing the younger woman’s back and asking, “What does it mean when you see two solid yellow lines on the highway?” Jade answered promptly, “don’t pass.”

“Right,” came Lisa’s response, along with two hard swats with the brush. “Why were there two yellow lines there?”

“So I wouldn’t pass?” Jade said uncertainly, and wasn’t actually surprised by the flurry of swats that came next. It hadn’t felt like the right answer, but she didn’t know what the woman wanted. “I don’t know I don’t know!” she squealed.

“What made them put two yellow lines on that hill?” she asked.

“Oh…” Jade bit her lip. She had a feeling this was the last question for a while, and as much as she hated having to answer, she really didn’t want the hairbrush spanking she knew was about to continue. Still, she answered hesitantly, “Because there was… low… visibility probably?”

“That is exactly right,” Lisa said above her, and as Jade knew would happen, she began using the hairbrush in earnest as she lectured. “You thought you knew something, little girl. Thought you knew better. You didn’t know better; you just knew less. And knowing less put you- and me- at serious risk for no good reason.” Lisa emphasized the last three words with particularly vicious swats to the young woman’s sit spots. She continued spanking and lecturing for several minutes, holding Jade in place when she started to struggle. She knew the girl couldn’t help it, but it didn’t slow her down. By the time she returned the brush to the coffee table, Jade’s bottom was hot and dark pink, every inch flushed with the impact of the spanking. The lecture has faded as the cries of “please” and “I’m sorry!” increased, and now there was only the sounds of Jade’s heavy breathing as Lisa rubbed her back with a gentleness that had not yet crept back into her voice: “We’re almost finished.”

“I learned my lesson!” Jade wailed, knowing her belt was laying on the coffee table, knowing it could only be for one reason, and knowing her protests weren’t going to change a thing. Still, she couldn’t help herself. “I’ll never pass another car as long as I live!”

Lisa patted her bottom, not hard, almost business like. “That’s unreasonable. You will obey the rules, though, or you’ll end up right back here. Stand up.” Jade took a deep breath, then eased herself backward, up on her knees. Lisa stood as Jade slowly planted her own feet on the floor, and guided the younger woman’s few steps over, until she was laying over the arm of the couch. Her tender backside was up in the air, toes just barely on the hardwood floor, keeping her balanced. She reached for a pillow again and she heard the clink of the belt buckle being lifted from the table.

Jade bit her lips, trying to prepare herself, as she felt the cool leather rest on the lower curve of her bottom. Before she could formulate a strategy, though, it was up again and whistling back down, landing across her sitspots. “Owwww!” she yelled, drumming her feet pointlessly on the floor. “Twenty-nine more” came the unsympathetic reply, along with another lick of the belt in the same spot. Jade had a moment where she thought having a number would help, but that moment ended as she quickly lost count of the number of times the black leather made contact with the same spot, kissing the meeting of her thighs and bottom.

At number 26, though Jade couldn’t have said what number they were on, she stood abruptly, hands flying to cover her sore bottom. She looked wide eyed at Lisa’s face, but the woman just raised an eyebrow as she continued to hold the belt, ready to continue. Jade kept eye contact, pleading silently for the end, but the only response she got was a question- “Should we start over?”

That was all Jade needed. She practically flung herself back over the couch arm. Lisa didn’t make her wait long. The next lick landed the moment she was settled, then three more, and then it was over. She felt her underwear being tugged gently up, and then felt Lisa settle herself on the couch, a hand running gently through Jade’s hair. Jade stayed that way for a moment, composing herself, before standing and stepping out if her jeans and easing herself down onto the couch, snuggling into Lisa’s open arms. A few quiet minutes of cuddling later, she said “Sorry, Lisa. It really won’t happen again.”

A kiss was planted firmly on Jade’s head as she heard simply from above her, “I know.” Jade smiled and snuggled closer.

Those Pesky Laser Pointers

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This is is the closest thing to fanfiction I’ve ever written and I’m simultaneously delighted and mortified to be publishing it. It’s just a drabble, but I hope you enjoy it!

“No one even knew it was me!”

“I don’t. care. You are the Vice President. You know better.”

“It was funny!”

“It was juvenile.”

“You just don’t like that you aren’t the only funny person in the White House.”

“And you can just spend some time in the corner thinking about your behavior when we get to my office.”

“Good thing we’re headed to the Oval Office,” the VP said smugly.

The President stopped abruptly, and there was sudden quiet as the ever-present security surrounding them stopped as well. “You’re right,” he said as he leveled a glare as his mischievous best friend, “we’ll skip the corner.”

“Wait, I didn’t mean that!” he said, scrambling with the rest of their entourage to catch up as the president began walking briskly again. A few of the guards glanced in his direction; usually the two men were able to have private conversations even amid the chaos, as long as they spoke in low voices. The expressions of the Secret Service would have been curious as they reached the Oval Office had they not been been trained to keep their feelings off their faces.

The President opened the door, keeping his hand on the handle as it swung inward, inviting his Vice President to walk ahead and into the empty office. A frown firmly in place, the VP did so, albeit hesitantly. The first of the team guarding the men began to step forward, but the president stopped her with his free hand and said simply, “We need a few minutes.”

She nodded, stepping back and assuming standard position outside the door as it closed, as did the rest of the team. It was generally frowned upon to leave the POTUS and VPOTUS alone within any room, even for a moment, but it had been established early on in this administration that these “talks” between the President and Vice President were going to happen from time to time. Like her partner, who flanked the other side of the door, she kept her face impassive as they heard the muffled sound of the president’s voice. They knew what sounds would come next, though they would never discuss it. When you were part of the Secret Service, it came with the territory.

~  ~  ~

Several minutes later, the doors opened again, and the two guards at the entrance moved deftly inside, taking up their positions silently. They avoided the eyes of the Vice President, which they knew would be red and watery. They always were after this sort of meeting. They also pretended not to notice that he was avoiding sitting, even on the softest straight back chair, or that the the president reached to touch the other man’s arm without even thinking about it on his way back to the desk.

The lead guard felt an unbidden grin tug at her face and she schooled her features. Nothing to smile about here. Just a secret to keep for her beloved President and VP.

If You Play With Fire

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“Fuck. Fuck.  A thousand times fuck.”

“I don’t think that’s how the saying goes.”

“A thousand times fuck off, Caleb.  How’s that?”

“Better.  What are we going to do?”

Jade looked around at the backyard, which was currently more ash than grass.  Lisa was out of town, and Jade had had some friends over to sit around the fire pit in the mild winter weather.  That in itself wasn’t a problem; Jade was an adult, and plenty old enough to have a contained party at her house.  This meant that she was too old to forget to put the fire out before she had gone inside and fallen into a deep sleep in the wee hours.  Her best friend, Caleb, had slept over and felt partially responsible.  He had convinced her to drag out the fire pit in the first place, and had gone to sleep after she had.  Unfortunately, he was also just as much at a loss over what to do now.  It a total fluke that the grass had caught fire, but a very avoidable fluke if they had just made sure to put the cover on and the flames out.

“I can fix this.  I can fix this.  I can fix this,” Jade was mumbling to herself as she walked around the backyard.  Caleb looked doubtful, but ready to do whatever he could to help.  Unfortunately, it was at that moment that he heard a car pull up in the driveway.  His eyebrows knit together worriedly as he said cautiously, “Hey Jade…”

She looked up, then followed his gaze toward the driveway.  Her view was obstructed by the house, but she read the signs.  Caleb turned to see her shoulders visibly sag.  He couldn’t blame her.  He’d had Miss Harley in high school, and she could be scary when she wanted to be.  He shivered a little as he remembered the only time he’d ever been in trouble with her, and the telling-off he’d received.  He’d seen her again since Jade had moved in here, but it was always brief hellos and goodbyes.

“You gotta go, man.”

He looked at Jade as he heard the car door shut.  Miss Harley would be walking into the house now.  Jade was making her way toward the back door.  She had her time-to-face-the-music face on.  He followed her, but she turned to him as she reached for the metal handle of the screen door and repeated herself, “You gotta go.  Just go around the house.”

“I have to get my wallet and keys.  Besides, if you’re gonna get yelled at, I should get yelled at, too.”

Jade snorted.  “Okay, tough guy.”

He rolled his eyes and followed her inside.  Lisa was putting her purse down at the kitchen counter and looking confused.  “Hey guys,” she said.  “Why does it smell like smoke?  Is someone burning leaves?  It’s kinda late in the year for that.”

Jade took a deep breath, walked over to the window facing the backyard, and yanked open the blinds.  Caleb watched Miss Harley’s eyes go wide and she walked quickly over to stand next to Jade and look out the window.  “What the hell happened?” she asked, taking in the large, vaguely circular patch of burnt grass covering her usually nice little backyard.

“I had some friends over and we got the fire pit out, and it got really windy later, and I guess some of the dried leaves in the pile blew out and…” She made a sweeping motion with her hand.

“It burned this much before you could stop it?” Lisa’s eyes were still wide with disbelief, confusion, and worry.  Jade glanced at Caleb, then said to the older woman, “Can I say goodbye to him first?”

Caleb saw Miss Harley’s features shift, as she put on her impassive teacher face and said, “Of course.”  But Caleb didn’t want Jade getting yelled at by herself, not when he had been just as dumb.  “It wasn’t her fault,” he blurted out.  “I went to bed later than she did and I should have doused it.  It was mostly just embers but still, it was my bad.  I’ll pay for the damage.”

Jade closed her eyes in frustration and brought both her hands to her forehead as she sighed, “Caaleeebbb.” Miss Harley’s attention all on the younger woman, and she spoke through her teeth now.  “You went to bed with a fire still going?”

Caleb started to interject again but Lisa held up a silencing hand without even looking in his direction, her eyes still on Jade, who slowly cracked her eyes open and said, “Yes, ma’am.”  Caleb felt compelled to look out for his best friend and couldn’t stop himself from interrupting. “I said I would put it out though.  It’s my fault, Miss Harley.”

Lisa’s eyes snapped over to look at the young man in her kitchen, and he took an involuntary step back, though she hadn’t moved an inch in his direction.  “Her house, her responsibility Caleb.  You need to leave.”

“I’m not leaving!  I’ll help… clean it up,” he said uncertainly.

Jade gave him a frustrated look and said “There’s no more fire, nothing we can do right now.  Just go.”

“I’m not going,” he said stubbornly.  He wasn’t sure why he felt so sure that he needed to stay, but he did.  He wasn’t the best guy who ever walked the earth but he was loyal to a fault, and something about this felt like trouble, though he couldn’t figure out what exactly he was afraid was going to happen.  Lisa threw her hands up, saying to Jade as she walked away, “Work it out.  I’ll be back down in thirty minutes.”  And she grabbed her small rolling suitcase and walked down the hall toward the stairs and up to her room.

As soon as they heard the first stair creak, Jade pulled the blinds shut and walked over to Caleb, grabbing his wallet from the small dining table and shoving it into his chest before physically pushing him toward the front door.  “Bye, Caleb.”

He dug his feet in, pushing back against her.  He was several inches taller than her and lanky, and easily turned around to avoid being herded.  “I’m not going!  What is she gonna do to you?  She can do it to me, too.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.  Just go home, Caleb!”

“No,” he said, crossing his arms stubbornly and planting his feet.  “I’m staying.”

“You know what, fine.  Stay.  Enjoy being a hero.  It’s not gonna make my ass feel better tomorrow, though, I bet you that.”  She stomped down the hall and yelled up the steps, “We’re ready, Lisa!” in an irritated voice, though barely five minutes had passed.  She stomped back into the living room and sat on the couch, arms crossed, adding a quick, “Come on, Caleb.  Come sit.  Let’s wait on the grand finale together.”  He made his way nervously toward the couch and did sit next to her.  After a few minutes of silent fuming, she even uncrossed her arms and leaned against him.  He didn’t speak, but watched the ticking second hand of the clock on the wall.

A few minutes later Lisa did come downstairs; they heard her walk through the kitchen and rummage for something before she entered the living room. Jade groaned as she saw the wooden spoon in her mentor’s hand, and Caleb’s eyes were glued to it.

“He’s still here?” Lisa asked Jade.

“He’s too stubborn for his own good.”

“And you’re okay with it?”

“It’s not my favorite thing but I just want to get it over with.”

“And does he–”

“I’m right here!” Caleb interjected indignantly, though as both women turned their full attention on him, he suddenly wished he was anywhere else.  Lisa contemplated him for a moment, then pointed at a chair behind her. “Sit,” she said, pointing. Caleb looked over at Jade, who made her eyes wide as if to say “what are you waiting for?!” So, Caleb got up from the couch and moved to the chair, and Lisa took his spot.

She put her arm around Jade and said, “Do I need to go over why you are about to be spanked?” The younger woman felt her face begin to burn with embarrassment. Now that the moment was here, having Caleb around seemed like the worst possible idea.  She resisted the urge to glance in his direction and just nodded.  Lisa must have been feeling sympathetic, because she accepted the nonverbal response.  But of course, Caleb wasn’t finished yet.

“You can’t do this!  You can’t… spank her.  She’s 27 years old!”

This time it was Jade who exploded, leaning forward and shaking her hands in Caleb’s direction.  “You see any handcuffs?  Does this place look like a prison to you?  I told you to leave.  You stayed.  So shut the fuck up, Caleb.  It’s bad enough that you’re here without you talking. Besides, you’ll get your turn,” she added caustically. “Fair’s fair, right?”

And before anything else could be said, she flung herself across Lisa’s lap.  The teacher rubbed her back for a moment as she shared a silent exchange with Caleb.  He had finally been startled into silence, and she felt confident he would remain that way for a while.  She leaned down, running her fingers through Jade’s hair and whispering things he could not hear, though he noticed Jade seemed to scoot even closer to Miss Harley’s body and her right arm curled around the woman’s left ankle.  When the first swat landed, he jumped at the noise, though Jade didn’t seem fazed.  The soft thud of a hand on denim didn’t last long.  Soon the girl’s pants were around her ankles, and Caleb watched as his friend’s brown skin began to turn pink around the edges of her underwear.  He winced with every swat.

Jade was being unusually stoic.  For all her bravado, she usually spent her time over Lisa’s lap whining and kicking, sometimes arguing about how unfair things were and sometimes promising the moon if she thought that’s what Lisa wanted from her.  Today, though, she felt guilty, angry, and embarrassed.  So she didn’t do much wiggling… at first.

Soon after Jade’s body began to shift, Lisa broke her steady rhythm and reached over to grab the spoon.  She clutched it firmly in her hand and leaned down again to talk in Jade’s ear.  Caleb was transfixed; he was mortified to be watching and equally unable to look away.  He heard his friend groan into the pillow, her fist coming down in front of her to bang the couch.  Then he watched as Lisa slowly pulled down the black and white striped underwear she wore, revealing a bottom that was already a dusky shade of pink.  Soon the spanking had resumed and this time it was a wooden spoon landing on bare skin.  The sound was distinctly different and his mouth was hanging open as he watched white oval patches appear and disappear.  Jade was making lots of noises and moving all over Lisa’s lap by the time the woman finished.  Caleb seemed not to exist as the older woman rubbed Jade’s back and bottom, then fixed her underwear and pulled her up into a hug before sending her with a push toward the corner of the living room.  She didn’t even glance in Caleb’s direction.

Miss Harley, however, shifted her full attention to the young man sitting in her living room.  “Well?” she asked.  “Are you ready to go home now?”

“No,” he replied immediately, though his voice sounded much higher than it normally did.

“You are going to take the same consequences as Jade?”

“Yes,” he said, and then at her raised eyebrow, “…ma’am.  Yes, ma’am.”

“Good,” she replied, “because I happen to agree with you.  You deserve a spanking almost as much as she did.  Come here.”

Caleb rose, and walked unsteadily to the side of the couch where his former teacher still sat.  She gestured at his belt and jeans.  “Undo those, please.”  He did so, fumbling and blushing the entire time, and then took the hand she offered him.  She guided him down over her lap, and adjusted his body until she felt comfortable.  She wrapped her left arm around his waist, then rested her right hand on his denim clad bottom for only a moment before she brought it up and back down.  Caleb’s eyes darted back and forth as he thought about what was happening.  It stung, though barely.  But she was spanking him.  It was really happening.

He was almost comfortable, and he began to wonder if maybe she would leave his jeans up because it was his first time.  No such luck– she pulled them down without so much as a warning, and when her palm landed on the thin cloth of his blue boxers, he heard himself yelp.  There was suddenly nothing comfortable about this position, and he tensed his arms in an effort not to reach back.  Before he could analyze his thoughts on this second phase of the spanking, she began to scold him.

“You know, I think Jade is fully aware of what went wrong last night, Caleb. I think that you think you’re getting spanked because you stuck around. Because you’re still here. Well let me make something very clear to you,” Miss Harley said, picking up the pace and adding some strength to her swats, “you are being spanked because you made poor choices. Under no circumstances should either one of you have gone into the house for the night, much less crawled into bed, with a fire still burning.”

Caleb was unable to control his rear, though no amount of wiggling seemed to keep the teacher’s hand from landing on his quickly reddening behind. He made constant noises, little grunts of pain, and felt his blush intensify at her scolding.

“And it’s not because I’m upset, or just because there are physical consequences for girls and boys who misbehave in this house. It’s not because of the damage to my property, though I am not particularly thrilled about that.” Her hand seemed to be finding the meeting of his thigh and bottom more and more often at this  point in the lecture. “You put people needlessly in danger. It may have felt like a low risk, but it was also low reward, young man. You are lucky the fire just burnt a big hole in my yard. What if the wind had carried those escaped leaves further? To my house? To the neighbors’ houses?”

“I’m sorry!” Caleb said, straining to stay still.

“No,” Miss Harley replied, “sorry comes next.” She stopped spanking, and the young man took several deep breaths; his backside burned! She rubbed his back and bottom as she spoke, though not to him. “Jade, come over and have a seat.”

“Lisa…”

“I’m not asking, I’m telling.” Caleb heard the chair he had vacated scoot a little, then a hiss from his friend as she sat. He didn’t turn his head to see, instead becoming engrossed in the floral pattern of the sofa.  Miss Harley began talking to him again, saying “We’re almost finished, Caleb. I wish it was over now, but this was a big deal. Very big.” And the next thing he knew, his boxers has been whisked down to his knees. He reached back with his right hand, grabbing for them and turning his head without thinking.  He made eye contact with Jade, squeaked and jerked his hand back as he turned toward the couch again.

“Give me that hand,” he heard the voice above him say firmly, and he reluctantly did as he was told, slowly reaching his right hand back and having it grasped around the wrist.  The next thing he knew, pain was exploding on his already sore bottom and he completely forgot about Jade, and being embarrassed, and anything that existed in the whole wide world besides the awful smack of the wooden spoon on his hot bare skin.

Thankfully, it seemed to be finished almost as soon as it was started. The throbbing ache in his bottom continued, and she let go of his hand, rubbed his back and his hair.  He leaned into her comforting touch, needing it more than he had realized he would. Soon, he felt his underwear and jeans being pulled up, though he could have done without the jeans. He sat up and felt himself being hugged, and he hugged her back hard. He felt like he should say something, but he had no idea what. He opened his mouth, and all that came out was “ouch.”

Both women burst into laughter, and he peeked up to see Jade smiling at him. “You’re an idiot for staying,” she said affectionately. He grinned back at her. Maybe she was right, but not all the way right. His bottom hurt and his pride was bruised, but he wasn’t worried or anxious like he had been all morning. He felt like he had just joined a secret club, one with high dues, but totally worth the cost.

Power Exchange

Standard

“Ben, come on babe! We were supposed to be on the road ten minutes ago.”

“I’m coming!”

~ ~ ~

“Honey, we’re going to miss our flight. I told you to eat before we left.”

“I wasn’t hungry earlier! It’ll just take a minute to order.”

~ ~ ~

“Benjamin, put the phone away. They have already asked you twice.”

“It doesn’t matter, Oliver. My one phone is not going to be the reason our flight crashes.”

Oliver leaned in very close to Ben, who sat by the window in their row of three. “No, it won’t be. Because it will be turned off and stowed in the seat back pocket in the next thirty seconds.” Ben glared at his boyfriend, a frown on his face that looked distinctly pouty, but Oliver continued talking in the same low controlled voice, “You have used up the very end of my patience, little boy. Your behavior from this moment until we land better be close to perfect, or the first thing I’m going to ask your brother is if I can borrow his hairbrush.”

Ben squirmed in his seat, glancing around the cabin conspicuously as he stowed his phone, but no one was paying attention to him besides Oliver. He crossed his arms and slouched in his seat, pulling his hoody lower over his head and across his eyes, all under the watchful glare of his disapproving boyfriend.

~ ~ ~

They made it to Danny and Emma’s without incident, much to Oliver’s surprise and relief. Ben’s efforts to sulk had lead to an accidental nap, which seemed to have improved his mood. It was a fun reunion for the brothers, who only saw each other a few times a year, and their respective partners got along like old friends.

The next morning, however, Ben’s bad attitude was back in full force. He was cranky about getting up for breakfast, so Oliver let him sleep; then he was mad that he had missed it. He stomped around the kitchen, looking for cereal and complaining loudly. He shut a cabinet door with particular ferocity, the bang echoing loudly through the house. Ben’s shoulders hunched and he froze, not wanting to turn around as he heard two doors swing open. He slowly peeked over his shoulder, then turned to see his boyfriend standing with his arms crossed in the guest room door, leveling a glare in his direction. Ben pushed his back against the counter and glanced upstairs, where Danny stood in his own bedroom door in a similarly intimidating position. “Sorry,” Ben mumbled. “Accident.”

Danny’s arms uncrossed as his hands found their ways to his hips and he repeated back, “Accident?” Ben looked up at him, attempting to look contrite, and watched his big brother hesitate uncharacteristically. Dan glanced at Oliver’s equally rigid figure, then gave Ben a look that made the younger man blush and look down. “No more accidents, please,” he said in a deceptively casual voice before turning around and shutting his bedroom door behind him.

Benjamin caught himself halfway through a sigh of relief before he remembered another pair of eyes were still watching him. “Sorry, Ollie,” he said sheepishly.

“I’m going to show you what sorry looks like if you keep it up” Oliver said sternly, keeping his gaze leveled at his boyfriend. When it became apparent that he was going to have to fix his meal with an audience, Ben turned slowly and opened the next cabinet door, very gently, finding the cereal and continuing his task. He was embarrassed to be overseen but grateful to have his boyfriend. On a good day with just Danny, Ben would be parked in a corner right now. On a bad day…

Ben squirmed a little at the thought, trying to pass it off as getting comfortable as he sat at the kitchen table. He relaxed a bit as he heard Oliver’s retreating footsteps, and he knew he was finally alone.

~ ~ ~

It could have ended there, but of course it didn’t. They had a lazy day, a nice dinner, and part of a fun round of mini-golf. Ben’s bad mood began to creep back in the further along the course they got, and as he began to lose. He made comments that were less funny and more snide, and his body language was aggressive as he took his shots across green felt fields full of miniature windmills and into the mouths of plaster alligators. He and Oliver were ahead of Emma and Danny, and the mood of the group was definitely taking a hit. Things came to a head at hole 17. They had caught up to the family ahead of them, and in his impatience, Ben had shot while one of their members was cutting across the green to catch up with her parents. His ball ricocheted off her foot, a product of bad timing that should have resulted in an agreeable do-over. Instead, Ben raised his small golf club up and rammed it back into the ground, hard, as he swore.

Oliver’s mouth dropped open and his eyebrows shot up; he quickly spun toward the other group and was grateful that the girl had simply apologized when the ball hit her foot and kept walking. The rest of them either didn’t hear or were politely ignoring the outburst. When he turned back around, it was to see Danny walking forward, eyes laser focused on his little brother. Though for a second he was sure that Dan was going to start wailing on Ben right there, Oliver was grateful things did not play out that way. He was already embarrassed enough at his boyfriend’s tantrum.

“Wait, Danny!” came Ben’s panicked voice. He was clearly worried about the same thing. Dan took his brother’s club and handed it and his own to Oliver without looking over. His attention was still completely on Ben, which was not something most people ever wanted to happen. He still didn’t speak as he grabbed the younger man’s right bicep with his own left hand and practically marched the boy off the course and toward the parking lot. Oliver shook his head and sighed, bending down to retrieve Ben’s ball. He and Emma exchanged awkward glances. She looked worried, and he guessed she was right to do so. All evidence suggested that Dan was going to tear Ben a new one as soon as they got home, and Oliver couldn’t blame him. He sighed again as he and Emma walked toward the hut to return their equipment. He should have just spanked his boyfriend at the airport.

~ ~ ~

The ride home was painfully silent. Emma and Oliver had approached the car slowly; they could see the silhouette of Dan in the front seat turned around, talking to the shadowy figure that was Ben, slumped in the back seat with his arms crossed, his entire body pushed back against the door. Suddenly shape one turned back around and the car came to life. Emma and Oliver hurried the last few steps, since it appeared the lecture was over, and loaded into the car. Oliver was a little worried about Ben, but his worry turned quickly back into aggravation. He thought the younger man might need some comfort or reassurance, but no, Benjamin’s face was once again defiant and pouty, and he refused to look anywhere besides out the window. Fine, he thought, be that way and see if I don’t spank you again before bed tonight.

Ben barely waited until the car was stopped before jumping out, not quite slamming his door and snatching the hidden key on the front porch and storming into the house, all while the three in the car watched. Emma made a small worried sound, and Danny moved his review mirror to look at Oliver as he spoke. “Are you going to sort him out?” he said bluntly.

Oliver stammered at first. The question caught him off-guard, but Dan watched the confusion turn to resolution as he answered. “I… well. Yeah, I think I will.” And then he unbuckled his seatbelt, got out the car and walked purposefully into the house.

Danny reached over and put a hand on Emma’s thigh and squeezed gently. “You okay?” he asked. She put her hand over his and returned the squeeze as she said with a small shrug and uncharacteristic nonchalance, “It’s about time.” Danny smiled, and they headed into the house.

~ ~ ~

Oliver wasted no time once he had made a decision. Whatever patience he’d possessed was long gone, and he felt empowered by Danny to do what he should have done days ago. He found Ben in the small bathroom attached to their room, drying his freshly washed face over the sink, clad only in dark red boxer-briefs as he prepared for bed. When he brought the towel down, he was startled to make eye contact in the mirror with Oliver, who had moved into the room quietly and now stood behind his boyfriend with his arms crossed. Ben’s mouth dropped open and he watched in horror as Oliver’s arms unfolded and he reached over, taking Ben’s bicep and pulling him toward the bed.

“You guys can’t just haul me around whenever you feel like it!” Ben yelled, resisting, but despite their relatively similar body types, his efforts were no use on the short walk. In no time, Oliver was perched on the edge of the bed, one foot propped on the wooden frame that held the mattress, elevating the knee over which he deposited his bratty boyfriend. Ben struggled the entire time, which was new for Oliver but didn’t slow him down. He had spanked his boyfriend a few times now, but only playfully or for something Ben himself felt guilty over. Now he was beginning to see that his boyfriend needed this physical reassurance even when the big stuff was taken care of. Well, thought Oliver as he ran an appreciative hand across the fabric of Benjamin’s underwear, I think I am up to the task.

He lifted his hand and began the spanking, bringing it down forcibly enough to rocket Ben’s body forward, even as he redoubled his efforts to rise. “Let me up!” he screeched.

“This is happening whether you make a big production of it or not, little boy. But Danny and Emma are plenty aware of your situation without the yelling.”

His words had the desired effect. He glanced down to see a tremendous blush rising on Ben’s face, and he was much less vocal as swats continued to reign down on his still wiggly behind. Oliver wasn’t holding back, perturbed as he was by the constantly ignored warnings and continued naughty behavior from his boyfriend since the beginning of their trip. Several minutes passed with just the steady sound of one young man’s hand landing rhythmically on the other’s bottom, accompanied by the occasional grunts and shifting of blankets as Ben continued to struggle quietly.

Almost to the moment, it occurred to Oliver that his arm was wearing out much earlier than he wanted, and there was a knock at the door. Two sharp raps echoed and both boys paused, Ben craning his neck awkwardly to look, his eyes wide. Oliver said “come in,” knowing it could only be one of two people. Ben groaned; it was Danny, carrying his hairbrush and handing it wordlessly to Oliver, who nodded his thanks.

Ben was too busy burying his face in his arms to watch Danny leave. Oliver rested his newly acquired implement on the red boxer briefs; the thin fabric did little to prevent the heat emanating from his boyfriend’s backside. He began to speak.

“It must be very embarrassing to have your brother see you getting your backside spanked by your boyfriend.” The remark caused a low moan from Ben, who was suddenly feeling very small. “Today, Benjamin, I was embarrassed. I was embarrassed by your behavior at mini-golf. I was embarrassed by your poor attitude on the way home. Especially because I know, and Danny and Emma know, what a charming and fun person you usually are.”

Oliver could feel Ben’s body tensing, and suspected that his boyfriend’s resistance wasn’t totally out of his system. Not wanting to give him a chance to get worked up again, Oliver picked up the brush, then hooked his thumbs under the elastic of Ben’s underwear and pulled them down. Ben did start to wiggle immediately, accompanied by an indignant “Oliver!”

Oliver began spanking again, and the sound of the wooden hairbrush on bare skin echoed in the room. “I think that’s enough talking, little boy. You know how unacceptable this attitude of yours has been and the behavior that came with it. Now we are at the consequences stage, and you have earned yourself a nice long spanking, so that’s what you’re going to get.”

“Ollieee…” came a pitiful response, and Oliver felt confident that the wiggles and kicks were almost involuntary now. He was going to have to invest in a hairbrush soon.

“You don’t need a hairbrush! I’ll be good!” said Ben. Oops, thought Oliver. Didn’t mean to say that out loud. He began to wrap up the spanking, concentrating on Ben’s sit-spots, making sure his entire bottom was a uniform shade of red, not much different than the underwear dangling around Ben’s knees. He slowed, then stopped, setting the hairbrush down and running his hand up and down his boyfriend’s back and bottom, inspecting and comforting at the same time. Eventually he pulled the young man up, reassuring him with forehead kisses and gentle touches, then guiding him to bed.

As he climbed into bed himself, Oliver felt strangely satisfied. He felt very confident that the next two days would be pleasant, and he liked knowing that he had take care of his partner. He pulled Ben close, smiling as they both drifted off to sleep.

~ ~ ~

The trip did finish well. Despite some initial protesting, Ben had returned his brother’s hairbrush with an apology for his behavior. He got off with barely any lecturing, for which he was grateful. He had always recognized his brother’s quiet alpha status, his ability to find what motivated people and use it to bring out their best. He was starting to see, too, that Danny had no stake in who handled the consequences or encouragements he thought necessary, at least for the people for whom he felt responsible. He just wanted them taken care of.

On the return flight, Oliver smiled and Benjamin scowled as they made their way through security. The oak hairbrush was tucked innocently into a side pocket of Oliver’s carry-on backpack, an unexpected souvenir. They went through without incident, and were soon homeward bound.

~ ~ ~

Back at home, Danny was straightening their room as Emma stripped the bed in the guest room. She was just tugging the fitted sheet off the far corner of the bed when she heard a call from upstairs.

“Emma, have you seen my hairbrush?”

That’s a Good Mutual Friend

Standard

David was not a confrontational man. He wasn’t prone to raising his voice. He never interrupted others, even when they insisted on yelling. He didn’t need to. When David had something he needed to say, people listened. Sometimes, it took a look. Sometimes, a gentle clearing of his throat. Occasionally, a loud “Excuse me.” People listened, of course, excluding Emily Anne.

She had waltzed into his life like a gentle tornado several months ago, a date set up by a mutual friend. He found her charming and charismatic, endearing and endlessly frustrating at the same time. And though he knew there was really no such thing as a gentle tornado, he found himself falling for her just the same.

Emily didn’t need to fight to make herself heard, either. She was fiercly independent, the kind of woman who did not ask permission and did so unapologetically. She found David steady and kind, intriguing and genuine, and above all, trustworthy. She was falling for him as well.

When they had their first fight, David was unprepared. It was over such a small thing… he had come to pick her up for a date, and her front door was unlocked, keys dangling from the beneath the handle. He’d grabbed them and let himself in to her apartment with a knock. “Emily?” he had called. He gave her a reproving look as he handed them over. “Be careful, babe. You left these in the door.” Instead of a thank you, she had rolled her eyes as she took them, dismissing him with a flippant “oh I do that all the time.”

“You leave your keys in the door? All the time?” he had asked, his eyebrows raised.

“Not a big deal. Where are we going for dinner?” she answered, brushing him off.

“I think it is a big deal, young lady,” he said, followed by a pause as he tried to mask his own surprise. Young lady? Where had that come from? He continued though, “This is not the worst neighborhood, but keeping your door locked is an effortless way to keep yourself a little safer.” His second surprise came when she didn’t argue or agree, but huffed at him. She huffed!

For her part, Emily had no idea where the huffing came from either. She just felt herself give in to some small unreasonable voice that rarely escaped. In restropect, she recognized that David was the first man she had ever trusted enough to hear that voice, but in the moment she just felt confused, and instead of backing down, she picked a bigger fight. They both got mad. Dinner was cancelled.

A week later, laying in bed at his apartment and both feeling the warmth from a now empty bottle of wine, Emily let the little voice take over again. Playfully she walked her fingers up his bare chest, smiling mischievously until…

“OW!” David yelled.

Emily snuggled closer to him as he covered his freshly pinched nipple. “Oops,” she said. A minute later, her fingers crept back up to his chest, this time taking only a few tiny steps before they were captured in his much larger hand. Leaning his head down close to hers, he said in a scary and quiet voice, “if you pinch me again, I will spank that little backside of yours until you can’t sit still.”

Butterflies errupted in her stomach and she jerked her hand back, tucking her mischievous fingers between their bodies and hiding her face in the crook of his arm. He smiled, though she couldn’t see it. The wine had made him bold, but he had listened to his instincts, and been prepared to apologize if he had read her wrong. It seemed to have paid off.

Two days later, it was date night again. As David climbed the steps to her apartment door, a bit of metal glinted in the evening sun. His expression darkened. Surely not.

Her keys again hung from the door. David grabbed them and walked inside, calling out. “Emily Anne?” though he expected no answer this time; he could hear a hair dryer running in the bathroom. When he appeared in the mirror behind her, she jumped and shrieked. “David! You scared me!”

“That is not all I plan to do,” he said, reaching over to unplug the hair dryer before taking it from her hands and setting it on the closed toilet lid. “You have some thinking to do.” With that, her grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the bedroom, steering her directly into the one unoccupied corner by the bed. Her outfit for the evening was laid out neatly, but for now she wore only her underwear and a blue tank top. “Why?!” she said as he arranged her hands behind her back, and he was pleased and affirmed in his choice by the faint whine he heard there, what he recognized now as a secret and rare glimpse of her most free self.

“Because a certain little girl left her keys in the door. Again.”

Emily made to turn around, and he knew she was rolling her eyes. A sharp thwack rang out, and Emily practically flung herself back into the corner. He had swatted her! And it hurt! She felt her face begin to burn with embarrassment. This was what she wanted, she thought. She had danced around it from practically the beginning of the relationship; it was perhaps the only thing in her life for which she had never directly asked.

David stepped back and watched the handprint bloom on the undercurve of her left cheek, faint fingerprints reaching out from beneath her peach colored underwear. If David had not been David, she would have eventually been forced to have one of those direct and difficult conversations. But perhaps their mutual friend knew more than they gave her credit for, because David suspected exactly what she wanted, and now he felt more confident than ever.

When he was sure that his girlfriend would stay put, at least for the time being, he walked back to the restroom and grabbed the sturdy wooden hairbrush she’d been using when he arrived. He returned quickly, set the hairbrush on the bed and moved her outfit to her dresser. Then he made himself comfortable, sitting on the bed’s edge and watching Emily shift her weight from foot to foot for a moment before he began to speak. “Stop fidgeting,” he began sternly. “You have landed yourself in trouble, and from now on, that is going to include corner time, so I suggest you get used to this position.” She groaned and leaned her head forward, letting it softly thunk into the joint of the walls.

“And when you are finished with your time-out, I am going to put you across my lap and spank your bare bottom.”

“David!!!” she wailed, having been unprepared to actually hear those words, and her hands jumped to cover her backside. He had expected something like this, and easily took the two steps from the bed to her corner and planted a matching swat on her right cheek, more pink fingerprints blooming. He smirked to himself as she went rigidly back into position. She wasn’t the only one who knew how to push buttons. He was thoroughly enjoying this.

He settled himself back on the bed and began to scold her. “I believe I was very clear about my feelings on you leaving your door unlocked, much less having your keys left there for the taking. And I understand that accidents happen, and we all have our moments. But you did not take me seriously the first time I showed concern, so you are going to take me seriously now.” She had begun to shift again as he lectured, and this time he let her. Her time in the corner was going to be over soon. He let her stand for several minutes in silence for good measure, though.

When he said “come here,” she jumped and pushed herself farther into the corner. He kept quiet, and was proud to see her ease herself out a moment later and shuffle to his side. She looked down at him pitifully, her mouth curved in a pout. “Do we have to?” she said softly.

“No,” he replied thoughtfully, taking her hands in his and squeezing them reassuringly, “but we’re going to.” And he pulled her gently to his side and then across his lap. She settled herself, would have even called it comfortable if she hadn’t been so nervous. David didn’t make her wait long. He pulled her in close with his left arm and said, “I think this is long overdue, little love. When I’m finished, you are going to have a very sore bottom, and a new motivation for keeping track of your keys. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” she said into her arms, and though it was muffled, he felt a second surge of pride. Not wanting to make her wait any longer, her raised his right hand and began to spank her. She remained still as his hand bounced on her quickly warming backside, absorbing each swat stoically. He smiled as he spanked her, unsurprised. His instinct to grab the hairbrush had been right; she had never been entry-level at anything, and spanking was no exception for his exceptional girl. He paused and hooked his fingers under the elastic of her underwear, ready with his free hand when she did react with a squeak and a frantic attempt to stop him. He paused, his left hand around her wrist as she clutched the thin fabric with her right hand. “What kind of spanking did I say this would be?”

She jerked her hand free and pulled it back under her, attempting to get out of the question by showing compliance, but he had no plans to let her get away with it. “Emily Anne,” he said sternly, and he could feel her body tense in resistance. Alright, he thought, and he resumed spanking her, underwear still up but his hand now much further down, softer swats because that’s all it took when one spanked a pair of naughty thighs. Emily didn’t think they felt softer at all, and now her feet did kick and she finally yelled “bare.”

He stopped, resting his hand on her bottom again, and asking in the silence, “how?”

She screwed up her face and her courage and said again, quickly but clearly, “on my bare bottom.”

“Good girl,” he said, and then she felt the cool air hit her hot bottom and she attempted to bury her face under the bedspread. David resumed spanking her, a little surprised to see that she still remained fairly still. That wouldn’t last long, he thought, glancing at the hairbrush. A moment later, he paused to grab it, gripping her tighter before resting the smooth wood on her bottom to prepare her. Again her muscles constricted, this time in anticipation, and he proved to be right about her stoicism as he brought it crashing down.

“David! Please!” she yelled, keeping her hands away but moving her backside and legs this way and that in a vain attempt to escape the dreadful sting of the wood on her bottom. “I won’t do it again!”

“Oh, you might do it again. And we will deal with that if and when the time comes,” David said as he continued his steady assault on her backside. “What you will not do is ignore me when I express concern for you, not without facing consequences. Also,” he said, as if it were an afterthought, “no more pinching.”

“Okay! Yes sir. Yes sir. Okay!” she replied. He swatted her a few more times, then set the brush aside and asked, “Are you going to behave yourself for the rest of the evening?”

She nodded meekly, and he swatted her thighs. “Ouch! Yes sir!”

“Good,” he said smiling. He pulled her underwear up and allowed her to stand; she immediately began rubbing her bottom, her bottom lip trapped by her teeth as she hopped up and down. “That really hurt!” she said accusingly, but her expression was more pitiful than challenging. He smiled and opened his arms, whispering gently into her ear a moment later, “Spankings are supposed to hurt. The next one will hurt, too. And the one after that.”

And though she knew it was supposed to be a threat, she smiled into his chest, feeling content and happy, and very very sore.

No Smoking

Standard

Fall was Candace’s favorite season.  She reveled in the bright colors and cold air, and had a scarf collection that grew every year.  Never one for neighborhood walks, she suddenly became energized and looked forward to free afternoons just so she could slip into her favorite boots and walk around the block, taking pictures of her favorite trees against the clear blue sky.

She was just returning home from one of these happy walks when she noticed smoke coming from one of the windows.  Not billowing black smoke, but thin wispy white smoke that disappeared quickly.  The happy peace she felt dissipated just as fast.  That was Harper’s room… was she smoking? Inside??

Ohhh, Jessie is going to kill her, Candace thought angrily.  No, I’m going to kill her.

She stormed inside, and was throwing open the door to her sister’s room seconds after she’d entered the house.  Harper was scrambling to shut the window and hide a pack of cigarettes under her pillow at the same time.  She visibly relaxed as she saw it was only Candace.  “Jesus Christ, you scared the hell out of me.  I thought you were Jesse.”  She actually looked up, seeing the thunderous look on Candace’s face.  “What?” she asked nervously.  Candace had been her best friend since they were children, and had always looked out for her; she had become even more of a big sister since Harper had actually moved in the Candace and Jessie last year.  She’d seen her look angry before, but she’d never seen that face directed at her.

“What do you think you’re doing, Harper?!  You don’t smoke!”

“You don’t know my life!” Harper replied, trying to be jokey and lighten the mood.  Candace didn’t take the bait, though.  Instead she walked over to the bed, reaching under Harper’s pillow and grabbing the pack of cigarettes, then turning abruptly and heading for the kitchen.  Harper scrambled after her, indignant.  “Hey, those are mine!”

Candace stepped on the peddle of the garbage can, dropping the pack resolutely and letting the metal top shut with a bang.  Harper walked over, making as if to take them back out, but was stopped by a hand on her chest.  “No.”

Harper’s mouth dropped open.  No? she thought, but she was too surprised to speak at first.  As she recovered, her expression became stubborn and she shoved Candace’s arm away forcefully.  “Yes!” she practically yelled.  Her face flushed at that, because even to her own ears, she sounded like a little kid about to throw a tantrum.  She continued stubbornly on, though a little more quietly.  “I’m old enough to smoke if I want to.  Who made you the boss?”

Candace took a step into Harper’s personal space, and the slightly younger woman stepped back, again caught off-guard.  “You shouldn’t need a boss to tell you not to be so dumb, Harper.  You know Jessie would lose her shit.  Since when do you even want to smoke, anyway?”

Harper tried to recover, embarrassed that she felt so intimidated by a girl in Ugg boots and a cable-knit sweater.  “I just wanted to!” she said hotly.  If it had been anyone else, she might have shoved them at this point, but this was Candace, who had backed down from every fight they’d ever been in.  She was pissed, but she’d just get the cigarettes later.  She turned, faking nonchalance and walking toward the living room.  “Whatever, Candace.”

“Hey, I asked you a question.  I’m serious!  Why do you suddenly want to smoke?  You haven’t touched a cigarette since we both coughed our lungs up trying them at 15.  What changed?” Candace was following her, and Harper was beyond annoyed at this point.  She turned, her expression challenging as she looked right into her sister’s face, and said “Hey Candace, do me a favor? Fuck off?”

She turned back around just as quickly, smiling smugly to herself. If she’d been less amused by her own rude indifference, she might not have turned back around so quickly, or plopped down on the couch so casually, reaching with purposeful cheer for the television remote.  She might have watched her best friend and chosen family stand up a little straighter, and perhaps noted how much she looked like a short, blond Jessie in this moment.  She might have taken a moment to wonder why Candace headed down the hall to their bedrooms so determinedly, or been ready for her return a moment later.

Instead, she got her third shock of the day when her ear was suddenly grabbed from behind.  In no time she was off the couch, feeling oddly powerless to do anything but go where she was tugged– which happened to be right back on the couch, but in a very different position.  She was across Candace’s lap when her now-red ear was released, and immediately began trying to get up again.  She didn’t even yell; she just grunted and struggled.  She had twenty pounds on Candace at least, and had played soccer and basketball all through high school!  “Fucking Zumba!!! ” was what finally came out of her mouth, it being the only explanation her brain could fathom for her now helpless state.

Candace laughed, not even sounding out of breath.  “And surprise and leverage.  But yeah, Zumba helps,” she said as she held Harper easily in place.  The dark haired young woman was getting tired quickly.  Candace had her legs locked around Harper’s, and the other woman’s body close against her with one arm pinned behind her back.  With her free hand, Candace quickly tugged the sweats Harper was wearing down just below her butt, revealing Amazing Spider-Man underwear.  “Enough!” yelled Harper, “Let me up!”

“You know what, Harp, you may not realize it, but you got two big sisters the day you moved in here,” Candace said, resting her hand on the girl’s bottom.  Harper practically growled. “You are like six months older than me!”

“Eight,” came Candace’s reply, “not that it matters.  You earned a  spanking and  how much older I am has nothing to do with it.  I find you smoking, in the house like a crazy person, and then when I say something you’re a jerk to me?  I don’t think so.  I don’t deserve it.  But you deserve this.”  And with that, she brought her hand down on the web-covered design of Harper’s underwear.  The first dozen swats were a little stingy, but nothing Harper would describe as painful.  It got worse, though, and quickly.  She was sure Candace had never spanked anyone before, but she had been on the receiving end more than once and was apparently a quick study.  In no time at all, Harper’s bottom was a bright shade of pink that clashed horribly with her underwear and brought Candace great satisfaction.

Harper was silent, though it was getting harder to stay that way.  Once she’d realized she was pinned, she had decided to just wait things out.  She didn’t plan to give an inch; no noise, no wiggling, no kicking, no whining.  That was her plan.

A swat landed low and a little “umph” escaped her.  The involuntary noise made her angry, and Harper decided to pass this emotion along in the form of a hard pinch with her left hand, which had been jammed between her body and the back of the couch.  She got a hold of the skin of Candace’s stomach beneath her gray sweater and squeezed.  The spanking stopped as Candace jumped and yelled “Ow!  You little brat!!!”

Harper smiled to herself, happy with the reaction, and then “HEY NO” as her underwear were whisked down and suddenly she found herself getting a real true blue no holds barred spanking as she felt the unfortunately familiar sting of Jessie’s wooden hairbrush land on her now bare bottom.  There were no more thoughts after that, unless “ow” counted as a thought.  There was just the loud smacking of the brush and the increasing pain in her bottom and the strain of her muscles against Candace’s unbreakable hold.

“Please stop!” she finally yelped, and to her surprise, she did.  Harper lay there panting, eyes shut tight as she tried to catch her breath.  Above her, Candace began talking again.  “This isn’t how I thought my day was going to go either, Harper.  But here we are now.  Do you think I like having to do this?  You don’t think it would have been easier to just turn you over to Jessie?”

Harper’s mood had shifted dramatically after the rapid fire spanking.  She felt her mouth turn down into a pout, and she buried her face into the couch instead of responding.  Candace continued lecturing, “I don’t want to be in charge.  But I’m not going to stand by and watch you pick up such a nasty habit.  How long have you been sneaking around with them, anyway?”

The younger woman groaned instead of answering, and Candace brought the brush down once on her left cheek.  “Ow!  Not long!  Like a month! That’s the first pack I’ve ever bought!”

“You’ve been smoking for a month without buying cigarettes?” asked Candace sharply, and if her legs hadn’t been pinned, Harper might actually have kicked herself.  “I mean a week,” she said quickly, but Candace wasn’t buying it.  She rubbed the back of the brush against Harper’s hot bottom as a warning, saying “Where have you been getting cigarettes, Harper Adele?”

Harper groaned into the couch cushions again.  She really, really did not want to answer this question.  She also really, really did not want to be spanked any more.  If it had been Jessie, her lips would have been sealed (until Jessie unsealed them, a mean voice in the back of her mind said, which she pointedly ignored). What was Candace going to do about it anyway, honestly?  She felt the brush lift from her bottom and her decision was made. “Jade!”

She could practically see the eyeroll that accompanied the sigh of “Of course it was Jade.”  All three of them were close, and Candace knew Jade almost as well as she knew Harper.

Candace readjust her grip, and Harper knew the spanking wasn’t over anyway, and she stopped worrying about Jade– her own ass was in the line of fire right now and Jade could worry about herself when and if the time came!

“You gonna touch another cigarette in the near future?  Or do I have to tell Jessie about this later?” Candace asked.  “Don’t tell Jessie!  I won’t smoke again.  I promise.”  Harper was positive Jessie would spank her again, without a second thought to whatever damage Candace had done back there.  And the idea of telling her that Candace had spanked her made Harper squirm with embarrassment.

“Okay, then we’re almost finished,” and the brush was falling again before she’d even completed her sentence, and Harper could barely hear the rest of what she said over the sound of her own yells and the steady thwack of the brush.  “You ever tell me to fuck off again and I’m going to make this feel like amateur hour.  I’m serious.  This is minor league compared to what I’ll do to you.  Tu comprende?”

“I comprende, I comprende!” said Harper, and as suddenly as it had started, the spanking was over.  Candace pulled the girl’s underwear up and released her, and Harper jumped up immediately, kicking off her sweatpants and hopping from foot to foot as she rubbed her bottom, allowing herself to be undignified in a way she never would in front of Jessie.  She glared at Candace’s completely unapologetic face; it was a mark of how close the were that Candace’s response to a look that would wither most people was to open her arms wide.

Her scowl shifted from withering to pouty, and she dove back onto the couch, curling up against the other woman pitifully.  “That was really mean,” she said.

“I know,” Candace replied.  “You weren’t being so nice yourself, you know.”

“I know,” Harper said guiltily.  “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Candace said, squeezing her tightly.  “I’d say we’re even now.”

Harper didn’t answer, but she squeezed her a little tighter, too.