Tag Archives: dd

Summer Flu

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Emma scowled at Danny, who stood at the bottom of the stairs. He had his arms crossed, and he was unimpressed with her scowl. He had just ordered her back into bed, but she had no intention of going. She’d been stuck there for five miserable days with the flu, and she was so tired of being tired. So instead of turning around, she looked defiantly down the stairs, hands on her hips and scowl firmly in place… right up until Danny took a step toward her. She turned back around and stomped into the bedroom, slamming the door and furious with herself. What’s he going to do anyway? she grumbled.

Her scowl grew as she thought about this. Worst he would have done was shoo her back in here, considering he thought she was too weak to even walk down the stairs. Thoughts like these chased themselves around her head, and in a matter of minutes, she had worked herself up to getting out of bed again. This time she didn’t try to sneak down the stairs. She walked out of their room and announced over the railing that overlooked their open kitchen and living room, “I am coming downstairs.” As she took the few steps toward the staircase, she grabbed the railing to steady herself. Maybe she was a little bit more woozy than she thought. She looked up a second later, and back into the piercing blue eyes of Daniel Strauss. He had his arms crossed again, and had apparently stepped out of their home office at her announcement just in time to see her stumble at the top of the stairs.

“Emma,” he ground out, but she refused to turn around. Still, she couldn’t quite stand her ground, and so instead she sat down on the top stair. Danny’s eyebrows shot up, and she tried to ignore the way her heart jumped in her chest at his expression. When he started walking up the stairs, she scrambled to stand, but jumping up made her dizzy again and she had to stop and clutch the banister. Danny hurried up the last few steps, wrapping his arms around her and walking them back to the bedroom. “I’m fine!” Emma said, but even she didn’t believe it. She was surprised at how much energy that had taken.

She was far more surprised a second later to find herself horizontal, stomach flat against her boyfriend’s muscled thighs and torso resting on the bed. She shrieked and squinched her face up, preparing herself for the first swat, but it didn’t come. Her whole body stilled, and in the silence she could hear her own breathing, which was much heavier than it should have been for so little activity. She was keenly aware of Danny’s right arm around around her waist, holding her across his lap. His left hand tugged up her large t-shirt, then pulled down her underwear in two swift jerks, one on each side. His hand rested on her bared bottom as he began to speak.

“So you are so stir crazy that you would rather take a spanking than stay in bed. Is that what this is, Emma Grace?” he said quietly, his voice low and stern. She groaned softly and felt her face and neck go hot with embarrassment. Maybe she wasn’t exactly thinking just that, but maybe… maybe she had wanted to provoke some sort of response. Maybe. “Well I have bad news for you, kid. Because I am going to spank you,” he continued, gently running his hand up and down across the cool skin of her bottom, “but it is not going to be now. And it is not going to be tomorrow. You are going to stay in this bed, just like the doctor said, until she says it’s okay to be up.” A growl crept into his voice and Emma found herself whimpering through his lecture. “And the very second she says you are allowed out of bed, I am going to put you across my lap, just like this,” and he patted her bottom, “and I am going to spank your pretty backside until it glows.”

Emma buried her face into the bedspread, her ears burning with embarrassment. She felt her eyes well up with tears and she felt terrible for having provoked him at all, after all he’d done to care of her, and this was how— “Eeep!”

A single sharp swat had landed on her backside, and Danny said “None of that, little girl. I am not mad at you. I understand you are bored and frustrated. But bored and frustrated aren’t excuses.” He patted her bottom, and she jumped even though he was being gentle again. “And believe me when I say that I am looking forward to you being well as much as you are. Maybe more, now.”

And with that he slid her off his lap, situating her back on his thigh but seated, underwear still bunched around her legs and her arms around his neck, a magnificent pout gracing her features. “I don’t want a spanking,” she mumbled, “I just don’t want to be sick any more.”

“Well you are still sick and you are going to be spanked. All you have left to decide is how bad it’s going to be. Keep up this pouting and I’ll take off my belt when the time comes. Let tomorrow be another day like today, and I’ll get the hairbrush. Let me catch you wobbling near those stairs again,” and his eyes glittered dangerously, “and I will spank you every night for a week. Are we clear on that?”

“Yes, sir,” Emma mumbled into his shirt. She couldn’t help that her mouth was still turned into a frown, though she dared not express any further rebelliousness. She didn’t argue when he tucked her back in a few minutes later. It was still early in the evening, but she was drifting to sleep in a matter of minutes.

Danny adjusted the covers around his sleeping girlfriend, then gathered up the small bin full of tissues and replaced the bag, straightening up the room for his patient. She had been so pitiful just three days before, and now she was struggling in a different sort of way. No longer occupied with the worst of the symptoms, she was now mostly just tired and bored. And naughty, Danny thought as he washed his hands for what must have been the thousandth time since she’d gotten sick. He was trying to be patient, but she’d just used up the last of it with that stunt. He suspected Emma might have found herself searching for his limits out of sheer desperation to rid herself of the doldrums. He crossed his arms again as he gazed down at her. Not wise, little girl, he thought to himself. Not wise at all.

~   ~   ~

When Emma woke again, it was almost dark. She noticed immediately that her area was clean again, as it always seemed to be after she dozed. She felt a twinge of guilt at how stubborn she’d been all day, but then she remembered that she was now in trouble, and a nice pout pushed the guilt away and she glared at the plate of saltines that had appeared on her nightstand. A glance at her phone told her it was almost 9pm. She reached for her iPad and began to pull up Netflix, but she hadn’t even gotten to her profile before tossing it gently away again. Emma was tired of watching things. She was tired of reading things. She was really truly and un-ironically tired of sleeping.

The door slowly opened and Danny walked in, carrying a glass of ginger ale. “Good morning,” he said as he placed the ginger ale on the nightstand beside the bed. “It’s not good or morning,” Emma replied grouchily. Danny’s eyebrows raised slowly and she pushed herself back a little, as if the headboard might actually be a secret door. Her boyfriend’s face didn’t look half as pleasant as his greeting had been. He stepped toward her and put his hands flat on the mattress, one on either side of her frame, so that his torso was parallel to hers and their bodies were very close. She pulled the covers up over her nose, but couldn’t seemed to break her wide eyes away from Danny’s. He was calm and unblinking, gazing thoughtfully at her for a moment before leaning down to put his lips against her ear and say quietly, “That’s one.”

“No!” Emma found herself exclaiming as she pulled the covers down from her face, narrowing avoiding hitting his rising body. He replied as he casually walked around to his side of the bed, “Oh yes. That’s one, and if you keep arguing, it will be two. Now sit all the way up.” His voice became more commanding as he let out a string of orders. “Start sipping your ginger ale, and start working on those crackers. I want all of it gone in the next hour, before we go to bed.” He held up a silencing hand before she could protest, “Yes, bed. I don’t think you’ll have any problems sleeping, but if you do, you can spend your time thinking about how you are going to keep from getting to three in the next 24 hours.”

Emma’s mouth dropped open, then shut with a click.  She crossed her arms and fought to make her face passive.  A minute later she reached over and grabbed a cracker and shoved it in her mouth.  She couldn’t see the small smile on Danny’s lips as she fought to chew the dry cracker, but it was there.  He left her alone as he picked up his kindle and glasses; he was quickly absorbed but managed to keep an eye on the clock.  He was happy to see that half of the ginger ale was gone and so were most of the crackers after half an hour, and finished before her time was up.  He quietly put his book down and put his arm around her shoulders.  She had been reading her own book, an actual paperback in her hands.  She leaned into him and he kissed her temple.  “Time for bed, honey.”  She sighed deeply but didn’t argue.  She put her book away and got up just long enough to complete her night time routine.  She was again startled by how quickly she tired, even though her tasks had been simple.

Emma really really did not want to be spanked with a wooden spoon, or the brand new hairbrush Danny had recently acquired.  And even though she didn’t want to go back to sleep, the thought of Danny holding her was now very appealing.  She decided she was all finished being mad at him as she pushed herself up against him in the bed.  He turned obliging, molding his body to hers and kissing the back of her head.  They talked a little, mostly mindless and sweet chatter, and soon they were both fast asleep.

~   ~   ~

The next morning, Emma woke before the sun had risen.  Danny was still asleep, having rolled over in the night to his side of the bed.  She brushed her fingers through his hair gently, and then glanced at the bedroom door, biting her bottom lip.
She really wanted to go downstairs.

She slipped one leg out from under the covers and planted it on the floor, then stilled.  Now that she was contemplating the move, she was very aware of her boyfriend’s body heat in the bed and his rhythmic breathing, indications that he was sleeping soundly.  She wanted it to stay that way, though she kept telling herself that he wouldn’t mind anyway.  She just wanted to eat, really, and that was a good thing!  She hadn’t been hungry in so long, and it meant she was getting better, for sure.

As her other foot made its way to the floor and she lay awkwardly twisted, she felt another twinge of guilt.  Maybe she should wake him up.

Even as she thought it, though, she let her torso slide off the bed, snakelike in her movements until she was planted.  Then she stood, and took a step toward the door.  An overwhelming sense of freedom shot through her and she walked a little faster, until she was at the top of the stairs.  Remembering Danny’s look at her wobbling yesterday, Emma decided to sit, carefully, on the top step, and scoot her way to the bottom.  To hush the voice that told her this was a bad idea, she kept making small compromises, hoping to sooth the warning bells.  She got down the stairs safely.  He would be happy with her for that.  Definitely happy.

She walked over to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and began to rummage for breakfast. The doctor had warned her that her appetite would return much faster than her ability to eat without being sick. At the moment she didn’t care, and she poured herself a large glass of orange juice and put a bagel in the toaster. She grabbed cream cheese, and container of berries, and some yogurt. She almost grabbed the granola, but her arms were full, so she turned to put everything down on the table…

…and found herself looking directly into a pair of very unhappy blue eyes. Emma almost dropped the food in her arms, but caught herself. “Hi,” she said meekly.

“Three,” Danny replied, his voice deep and gravelly from sleep. He wore plaid white and grey pajama pants, the drawstring dangling loosely. His chest and feet were bare and his hair was still mussed. That much authority shouldn’t have been possible from someone who had been asleep just minutes ago, but the air around him seemed to crackle with it. Or perhaps that was Emma projecting— her stomach knotted and she struggled to defend herself in the face of his stern gaze.

“You were asleep, though…” she said, trying to sound confident but hearing the confession in her almost-whisper. And then the actual word he had said caught up with her brain and she dropped everything on the counter to exclaim, “Wait, three?! You were only at one before! You can’t skip—”

“I can. I did. Go back upstairs.”

“But I—”

“Now.”

Emma paused, feeling overwhelmed. She couldn’t move, wanting so badly to argue but also knowing that it wouldn’t do anything but get her in more trouble. And now he was going to use his hairbrush tomorrow, and she knew that’s what he would use, it’s what he always used when she was intentionally naughty, and she hated the hairbrush. One quick glance at this face told her she was seconds away from being carried up the stairs. She heard the toaster pop, her bagel was ready, and it was somehow the signal her brain needed. She glanced back at the slices longingly for a second, and then walked around the kitchen island toward the stairs, where Danny stood, still watching her.

As her right foot landed on the bottom step, a wave of heat rush up her body. She realized that he was hovering nearby so he could walk her up them, and it made her feel small to have him in step behind her. Any argument died on her lips, though, and she forced her left foot up, onto the next one. When they got to the bedroom, she couldn’t help but cast an imploring look up at her boyfriend. She wanted to be anywhere, anywhere, besides back in this bed. She said quietly, “I feel a lot better today, though, I promise.”

Danny nodded, lifted the covers, and he said, “Good. I’m glad to hear it,” and she realized in an instant that this wasn’t about her being sick, not this particular small detail. He probably would have let her get out of bed once he woke up, if she had just asked him, if she had just waited for him to or woken him up herself. This was now a battle of wills. She had done exactly what she’d been told not to do, and she was suddenly sure that she’d be regretting that choice in more ways than one. Her shoulders sagged, because she knew, too, that Danny didn’t choose his battles unwisely. He would win. He always did.

And so, she climbed under the blankets and allowed herself to be tucked in, once again. “I’ll be back up in just a minute,” Danny said before kissing her forehead and leaving the room. And he was, with half bagel on a plate, a small glass of orange juice, and a large glass of water. She gave him a shy smile and sat up in the bed, blushing faintly but also a little pleased as he spread a napkin over her lap. He wasn’t too mad at her if he was pampering her, she thought happily. Not that he ever really got mad at her. Danny more just had… expectations. And consequences for not meeting those expectations. He was surprisingly good at dealing with chaos, and would have been described by their friends as laid-back or easy going. He’d told Emma once that it wasn’t that he minded not being in control; he just was or he wasn’t. So if it was his job, or his problem, or someone who belonged to him— like me, Emma thought, smiling— he was fully involved.

She immediately frowned again, because for her, fully involved meant that he was going to spank her tomorrow.  She hated even thinking the word, even though a small voice reminded her that she would feel much better afterwards.  She released a small sigh.  No use thinking about it now.  She picked up the bagel and had a bite.

~   ~   ~

The rest of the day passed almost without incident.  Danny did let her go downstairs in the afternoon, and they watched a movie together.  She didn’t start to nod off until the end, and then she took a nap on the sofa.  She was able to eat soup for dinner without any problems.  There were a few times where she began to protest his ministrations, but then she’d watch his eyes grow dark and she’d back down immediately.  Mostly, she was able to push thoughts of tomorrow aside.  The agitation at not working– Emma’s friends would not have described her as laid-back or easy going– even subsided, partially thanks to Danny’s efforts to keep her distracted.  She suspected he might have pushed off some of his own work obligations, but she didn’t even feel bad about it.  Mostly.

Emma only brushed up against Danny’s limits once more, when it was close to bed and she wanted to shower.  “Bath,” he’d said back to her when she’d mentioned it.  “I don’t want to take a bath,” she’d said back.  “I just want a quick shower.”

“Sorry, love.  Not tonight.  I watched you stumble up the stairs, and you probably should have been in bed an hour ago.  Take a bath tonight, and I’ll sit with you.”

“I said I don’t want to take a bath!” she had said back, with more force than she had intended.

“That’s one,” Danny had replied calmly, even as he went into their bathroom and turned on the tub’s faucet.  She felt a sharp intake of breath as she stared as his back.  What’s he going to do at three this time?! she’d wondered, this time with none of the challenge that had led to her very first big act of defiance yesterday.  This time the question was scary.  She had suspected that he was only half concerned with her falling, and half trying to prove a point.  She had suspected that he wouldn’t be interested in hearing that argument.  She had undressed, and climbed into the bath.

~   ~   ~

It was afternoon before Danny decided to address her punishment.  She spent the morning on edge, not wanting to ask and also wanting badly to know.  Now the moment had arrived.  She was in their office on the desktop, sorting through emails she’d missed or not had the energy to answer before, when he appeared in the doorway.  He leaned against the frame, arms and ankles casually crossed and said, “We need to talk, my girl.”

A small sound of disappointment escaped her, but she quickly got to a stopping point in her work and stood, walking hesitantly from behind the desk to take her boyfriend’s now proffered hand.  He raised her knuckles to his lips and kissed them gently, then pulled her past him and out the door, planting a swat on her backside with his other hand.  “Upstairs and find a corner,” he said, and she did exactly that.

About ten minutes later, Emma heard the soft sound of Danny sitting on the bed behind her.  She clenched her bottom involuntarily as she waited for him to call her out of the corner.  He didn’t make her wait long.  Soon she was standing in front of him, slightly between his spread knees, anxiously pulling at the fabric of her shorts and bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet.  It was like all of the energy she’d been lacking all week suddenly returned in an explosion of nerves.  In comparison, Danny seemed perfectly at ease, but then didn’t he always? she thought.  The hairbrush was already sitting on the bed beside him, and that didn’t seem like a good sign.  Daniel Strauss had large, hard hands and a powerful swing, and when he did use implements, he typically sent her to fetch them near the end of her punishment.

There were times when she was made to explain whatever incident had lead up to the spanking, times when Danny wasn’t exactly sure about the details but was pretty sure she was guilty.  There was even one time when she had successfully explained herself and he had nodded thoughtfully before deciding not to spank her at all.  This time, though, there was no good explanation and they both knew it.  He’d still ask her plenty of questions, she knew he would, but not until she was already sore and sorry and on the brink of begging for him to stop.

He reached out and tugged on the bottoms of her shorts, which slipped off her hips to fall limply on the floor.  They were stuck around her left foot a second later as Danny pulled her forward and across his right knee.  He reached down to pick her up by the torso, swinging her legs up and making her, for the second time that week, horizontal and reaching for the blankets.  His easy maneuvering of her body made her feel especially vulnerable, and she was acutely aware that this time there would be no last minute reprieve.

She buried her face as his right hand pulled her more snugly against his body, and then the first swat fell and she wasn’t thinking about anything except the sharp sting of his palm on her backside.  Danny’s broad hand found it’s target over and over again, and though her underwear were still up, it didn’t do much to save the round curves of her bottom or the tender skin of her thighs.  He spanked her steadily, turning his hand into a metronome, not losing his rhythm even when she began to squirm, or later when she began to kick.  The only pause came after several minutes, when he decided it was time to lower her white panties.  She moaned into her arms; she always did.  It wasn’t the nudity itself but the lack of autonomy, the voteless decision to strip her of the smallest garment she wore, that made her flush with embarrassment.

There were times when he lingered at this moment, rubbing her back and observing his handiwork, but today he resumed the spanking with a sense of purpose that even in her vulnerable position, Emma recognized.  The echoey cadence of the spanking was interrupted by the noises escaping her, which were happening more and more frequently.  She had always been easy to bring to tears, but usually she did little more than squeak until the end of a spanking, when apologies would come spilling out of mouth.  She knew it was way too early for that, but her bottom already hurt so much!  Her hands, too, couldn’t be contained, though Danny was used to pinning one hand to her side or back.  Emma didn’t like to have them restrained, and so always fought to keep them forward.  At this moment they were both pressed against Danny’s thigh and she was pushing so hard that her back arched and only his strong grip around her waist held her there.

“Please, Danny!” she finally said, and to her surprise and against all precedent, he slowed down.  She relaxed her upper body as best she could, bring her hands in front of her to grab the blankets again.  As the swats slowly faded into gentle caresses, he began to speak.  “I know it has been a very hard week for you, little girl,” he said as his fingertips gently slid up and down her hot bottom and the tops of her thighs, circling the edges of her punished skin, “but I am not currently accepting ‘the flu’ as an excuse for bad behavior.”  He landed a tremendous swat at the end of his statement, then continued over her yelp, “I know it is very trying for you to not be working, and that the boredom probably felt like a punishment.  It wasn’t.”  She groaned as she felt him reach for the hairbrush, but he didn’t pause his lecture.  “By the time I’m finished with you, you will understand the difference.”

He placed the smooth wooden back of the brush against the hot skin of her backside, and pulled her body closer to his, so her side was plastered snugly against his stomach.  He reached up and placed his right hand on her right shoulder, letting it slide down her bicep so that he could untangle her arm and align it with her body, his grip settling firmly on her wrist.  She gave a little kick at this, then said pitifully, “But I’ve been good!”

She couldn’t see the brief affectionate smile on his face, but it was there.  “You have been good about your hands.  And I’m sure now that you will continue being good until I’m finished.  I’m afraid there’s no chance of it otherwise.”

Emma heard the threat in those words and began to scramble when she felt the brush lift a second later.  “No don’t don’t don’t I’m already sorry!  I’m already sorry, Danny!”

Her voice went up an octave at the last word; the brush crashed down and even though Danny knew they weren’t anywhere near the intensity of his usual “finishing” hairbrush swats, Emma was too overwhelmed to tell the difference.  For his part, Danny wanted to make good on his promise– the promise he felt was implicit when he counted to three.  Three promised consequences.  Three promised regret.

He brought the hairbrush down again and again, unfazed by her apologies or her tears or her wildly kicking legs.  Soon all of her words were lost, her entire vocabulary erased save his name, which she repeated with increasing desperation.  Eventually, even that was lost, and all that was left was the sound. Swat. After swat. after swat.

~   ~   ~

When Danny finally ended the spanking, Emma’s bottom was swollen and her breathing ragged.  He knew that it wasn’t the worst spanking he had ever given, but she was delicate now and he felt that as he held her.  Her body was worn and her emotions drained, though she had the strength to cling to his shirt and mumble into his chest, quiet “I’m sorry, sir, I’m so sorry,” while he mumbled his own “It’s okay, baby.  It’s okay,” over her.

She napped without complaint that evening.  He stayed in bed with her, reading while she slept.  When she woke, he massaged her back and rubbed lotion gently over her tender backside.  Emma pouted where she could get away with it, but generally after being spanked she felt small and doting.  She did as she was told, and he lavished praise on her for every small detail.  She even managed to keep from working one more full day.  It helped that she couldn’t bare to sit at the desk.

 

 

 

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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, Connor.  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, Connor, 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. Connor 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. Connor turned to see her shoulders visibly sag.  He couldn’t blame her.  He’d had Ms. Eckridge 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 Eckridge 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. Connor watched Ms. Eckridge’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 Connor, then said to the older woman, “Can I say goodbye to him first?”

Connor saw Ms. Eckridge’s features shift, as she put on her impassive teacher face and said, “Of course.”  But Connor 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, “Coonnnoorr.” Miss Eckridge’s attention all on the younger woman, and she spoke through her teeth now.  “You went to bed with a fire still going?”

Connor 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.”  Connor 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 Eckridge.”

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 Connor.  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 Connor, grabbing his wallet from the small dining table and shoving it into his chest before physically pushing him toward the front door.  “Bye, Connor.”

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, Connor!”

“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, Connor.  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 Connor 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!” Connor 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. Connor looked over at Jade, who made her eyes wide as if to say “what are you waiting for?!” So, Connor 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 Connor 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, Connor 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 Connor’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, Connor.  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 Connor.  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 Ms. Eckridge’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 Connor 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. Connor 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. Connor 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 Connor’s direction.

Ms. Eckridge, 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.”

Connor 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. Connor’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, Connor. 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,” Ms. Eckridge 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.”

Connor 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!” Connor said, straining to stay still.

“No,” Ms. Eckridge 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.” Connor 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.  Ms. Eckridge began talking to him again, saying “We’re almost finished, Connor. 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?”

Temper Tantrum

Standard

“Give it BACK!”

Shayla stopped at these words, one hand on the knob of the bedroom door, and took a deep breath… then one more, for good measure. She turned around slowly to look at her girlfriend, the one who had yelled this demand, the one who was still standing in the corner but not facing it like she was supposed to be. Oh no, instead she was standing with her arms crossed, shoulders back, and a mutinous look on her face.

“Jaynie…” Shayla said, her voice low and full of warning.

“It’s my phone,” Jaynie said, her brow furrowing even more, her mouth in a hard line. Shayla had to resist the urge to let her mouth drop open. This was out of character for Jaynie, even on her naughtiest days. She slowly crossed her arms as she contemplated the situation, staring right back into the face of her rebellious girl. She’d thought she was being generous with corner time and a few warning swats. She’d thought it was reasonable to confiscate the phone for the evening, after Jaynie threw it across the room in frustration when a picture wasn’t loading fast enough for her. She’d thought it was going to be a quiet night.

Well well. Plans had changed.

What she wanted to do was grab Jaynie by the arm and start spanking. Instead she brought herself up to her full height, reached into her pocket, and pulled out the phone in question. “Jaynie Michelle, you take a good long look at this phone,” she said, holding it up. “And you start getting used to the idea that you won’t be using it for anything but work until I say otherwise.” As she talked, she opened the top drawer of the dresser beside her, placing the phone inside, her eyes never leaving Jaynie’s. “I’m not going to hide it. I’m not going to keep it on me at all times. I am going to leave it in this drawer, and you will ask me for permission any time you want to check it.” She shut the drawer firmly with one hand, and began to slowly walk toward the corner as she talked. “I don’t know what has gotten into you, young lady, that makes you think it’s okay to behave this way, or to talk to me like that. I do know that you are going to feel very differently by the time we’re finished here.” She kept her steps slow and her voice even, moving closer and closer to Jaynie, who was trying very hard to maintain her defiant posture. Shayla wasn’t falling for it, though. She saw the nervous glance Jaynie cast at the closet where they kept the Mean Paddle. She saw way her fingers clenched and un-clenched around the fabric of her shirt.

“You can’t…” came Jaynie’s voice as she summoned the last of her bravado, but it was too late. Shayla way right next her now, the Look on her girlfriend’s face mere inches from hers as Shayla interrupted her. “Oh, but I can.”

And with that she reached out and grabbed Jaynie’s ear, pulling her toward the bed. Jaynie tried to pulled back, screeching “you’re hurting me!”

“It wouldn’t hurt if you didn’t resist,” came the unsympathetic reply. “You won’t be thinking about your ear for much longer anyway.” With that she plopped down on the bed, putting one leg up and using the other to anchor herself on the floor. In no time, Jaynie was across her lap, her sweatpants a puddle around her ankles as Shayla pulled the girl in closer to her own body and reached for the hem of her underwear. “No no no no no!” yelled Jaynie, reaching back and trying to stop the inevitable. Shayla merely snatched up the girl’s hand along with her panties, pulling both up to the small of Jaynie’s back, leaving the young woman bare cheeked and very uncomfortable. “No!!!” came another useless wail, accompanied by feet kicking the ground hard.

Shayla watched the girl struggle, her eyebrows raised, surprised at the brazenness of the girly over her lap. Jaynie had accepted that she was about to be punished, but she had in no way accepted the punishment itself. That was fine with Shayla. She was more than ready to spank the defiance right out of her bratty girlfriend. She raised her hand and brought it down with a loud crack on the girl’s left cheek, then the right, then again and again and again, without pause. Usually she didn’t start with fast swats, mostly because she liked watching the color grow and her hand prints appear, and then slowly disappear into the reddening canvas. There was nothing fun about this spanking, though. Not for either of them.

A grim smile appeared on her face. Fun, no. Satisfying? Absolutely. She increased the force of her swats as she remembered the phone bouncing off the bed and onto the floor earlier, starting this entire thing. Even that wasn’t entirely true. In all honesty, Jaynie had been snappy and rude since she had gotten home from work that afternoon. Nothing outright– she knew better than that– but certainly uncalled for. As Shayla thought about every eyeroll she’d pretended not to notice, every snide remark she had ignored, she moved her hand down, concentrating on the barely pink crease between Jaynie’s thighs and bottom. The girl’s wiggling increased as Shayla found her target over and over again, letting her palm meld into the shape of Jaynie’s sit spots, spanking them and then even spanking beneath them, purposefully targeting the tops of the woman’s thighs in a way she only ever did during punishment spankings.

Jaynie kicked through the entire thing, once kicking so high that Shayla stopped spanking, but only long enough to bend down and say quietly into her ear, “if you kick me in the face, I will repeat this spanking from beginning to end every night for a week, little girl, so I suggest you get your little feet under control.” In response she got something close to a growl as Jaynie turned her face away and buried it in the blankets. She kept her kicking, lower, though, even if she wasn’t ready to acknowledge her obedience.

By the time Jaynie’s backside and thighs were a uniform dusky dark pink, Shayla’s hand was starting to hurt. Good timing, she thought, as she released the younger woman with the short command to stand. She stood, but Shayla noticed the hard glare still in her eyes as she looked down, and noted that she didn’t reach back to rub her bottom (though she must have wanted to desperately). That was okay with Shayla. It didn’t happen often, but she’d been here with her girlfriend before. It was a marathon, not a sprint. “Get the paddle,” she said firmly, not leaving her spot on the bed. Jaynie stepped out of her pants and walked toward her closet. “The one in my closet,” Shayla said pointedly. She watched her girlfriend hesitate, then do as she was told. Discipline or not, she couldn’t help but appreciate the beautiful glowing rear end as she watched Jaynie walk toward the closet and get the dreaded mean paddle, a slim dark wooden implement they’d stopped using in play early on.

Jaynie held it away from her, like it was a poisonous snake, but brought it back without any fuss. She held it out to her older girlfriend, who didn’t immediately take it. Instead she reached out and swiftly swept Jaynie’s panties down from their high perch, until they were pooled around her ankles. Caught by surprise, Jaynie squeaked and made a very delayed grab for her them, which quickly turned into a useless attempt at covering herself. A blush crept up her chest, and in seconds her face was flaming with embarrassment. Shayla didn’t try to hide her satisfaction as she scolded, “you certainly haven’t been bashful the rest of the afternoon, young lady. I don’t know why you’d start now. You have been acting like a spoiled brat, and brats in this house don’t get any modesty.” And with that she grabbed the paddle with her right hand, then hauled Jaynie back over her lap with her right.

This time she start without much strength behind her swats. She didn’t need it. Even the lightest spanked made Jaynie jump, and soon little squeals were escaping from the girl’s mouth at every swat. Shayla wasn’t after squeals, though. She ignored the pitiful noises and gradually increased the force spanking, letting the paddle speak for her. She knew the sensation was shifting from sharp and stingy to deeply painful; the girl’s bottom was burning brighter with every round of swats. Soon Jaynie was kicking again, but these weren’t the angry rebellious kicks from earlier. No, these she couldn’t help if she tried. Shayla paused long enough to wrap her legs around the young woman’s, hoisting her up so she had full access to every pink bit of her bottom and thighs. She slowed her pace as she began to lecture again, punctuating her words with painful paddle swats.

“We do not throw phones in this house, little girl. You know better. And if you do decide to have yourself a tantrum, then you accept the consequences like a big girl. You earned yourself a few minutes of corner time. You earned it, Jaynie Michelle. And that means you keep your nose pointed at the wall and your mouth shut until you are called out. Instead, you decided to yell at me. You decided that you were going to make the rules. But that is not how things work for you. Maybe you forgot. You won’t be forgetting again soon, though. That is a promise.”

With that she brought the paddle up high, bringing it crashing almost immediately back down on Jaynie’s swollen bottom. The girl might have been able to handle the hard spanking or the scolding, but both together were too much. “I’m sorry” she wailed into the covers, still struggling fruitlessly to escape the brutal swats that kept landing on her bottom and thighs. “I’m sorry, too, but sorry doesn’t cut it,” came Shayla’s heartless reply.

She really wasn’t heartless, but she was determined to make sure they didn’t have a repeat of tonight’s attitude any time soon. If she stopped too early, before Jaynie was really and truly sorry, they’d be here again before the week’s end. And Jaynie would hate every minute of it– not just the spanking, but she would hate the spiteful words that would come from her mouth, hate the mean attitude she’d fling in Shayla’s direction. But she wouldn’t be able to stop it. Oh yes, they had been down this road before.

And so despite the wails that were starting to sound a bit like crying, she kept right on paddling Jaynie’s backside, deliberately hard and deliberately fast, not influenced at all by the bucking girl’s imminent tears as she lay there trapped between Shayla’s legs. “Please baby, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.” Her cries fell on deaf ears, though. With the skill of an experienced spanker, Caroline shifted her legs, bringing the girl’s bottom up and forcing her little cheeks to spread slightly so that she could spank every single inch of her naughty backside. Soon the apologies and begging stopped, and there was only the sound of spanking and crying in the small bedroom. Shayla finally slowed her hand, completing one last circuit around the very red, very swollen bottom before ending with a dozen swats that were harder than any of the rest. She tossed the paddled aside, using the punishing hand gently now, running her fingers lightly around the edges of the girl’s poor bottom as she let her cry over her lap. Her left hand massaged Jaynie’s back, occasionally running her fingers up through her hair, twining them delicately through the girl’s curls and back out. After a few minutes, she firmly tugged the young woman’s shoulders, and Jaynie slid effortlessly down to the ground, kneeling at her girlfriend’s feet and burying her head in Shayla’s lap, soaking up every comforting touch and caress.

Shayla took one more deep breath as she ran her thumb along Jaynie’s cheek and slipped a hand under her chin, forcing her to look up. “You owe me ten minutes, little one,” she said, not unkindly. Fresh tears filled the big pitiful eyes below her, spilling immediately onto Jaynie’s already wet face. Slowly, wincing, and with a little help from her girlfriend, Jaynie stood, stepping out of her long forgotten underwear and not in the least self-conscious now. She made her way into the corner, arms folded obediently behind her, still sniffling. A few seconds later, Caroline gently wiped her face with a tissue, then planted a kiss on the girl’s temple before leaving her to finish her time.

Ten minutes later… well maybe closer to 8, but Caroline made the rules in the first place, so she could change them if she wanted! Jaynie was called out of the corner. Shayla lay on the bed, arms open and ready, as her girlfriend practically dove on top of her, snuggling in close and burying her face into her girlfriend’s chest. Shayla’s lips found Jaynie’s forehead and rested there, occasionally lifting to whisper soft “I love yous” and “you are such a good girl.” For the most part, though, they were quiet, finding the comfort they both needed.

Spitfire

Standard

“Go to hell, Adam!!!”

The scream came from the behind the locked bathroom door. Adam sat on the edge of their king size bed in the adjoining room. He sighed and ran a tired hand over his face, unhappy at having an argument through the door. After nearly half an hour without any discernible progress, he was quite unhappy to be continuing this argument at all . “Please,” he called imploringly, “can we talk about this when you’ve calmed down?”

He needn’t have worried that his wife’s exile to the bathroom would last long. No sooner had he finished his question but Lilly burst back into the bedroom, yelling and jabbing a finger in his general direction as she paced erratically in front of the bed. “Oh, calm down? You want me to calm down after telling me you’ve changed your mind about something you know, you know is important to me?!”

Her voice cracked at the end, and Adam struggled not to embrace her– while she might look frazzled, he knew any attempts at solace would simply enrage her more. He dropped his head into his hands, replying calmly “I didn’t change my mind, darling. I just said that maybe… well, maybe we aren’t quite ready.”

“‘We’re’ not ready?! So, you mean, I’m not ready? You don’t think can handle being away from home? Is that what you’re trying to say?” The former trace of impending tears was gone now as she let her hurt feelings hide under her anger. With a heavy exhale Adam stood and walked towards the balcony door where she stood. “No, love, it’s not–”

Before he could finish his sentence she stormed past him to the other side of the room, stopping beside the nightstand on the opposite side of the bed, putting as much distance between the two of them as she could in the small space. “Or do you mean you are not ready, Adam? I don’t know why it comes as such a surprise to you. I mean, I only mentioned that I wanted out of here on our fucking first date!!!” She reached blindly toward the little table beside her, grabbing a small vase and hurling it at her bewildered husband.

He ducked as the green glass missed his head and slammed loudly into the wall behind him. They both froze, Adam starring at Lilly with a look of disbelief as she stared with a similar expression at the broken shards now covering the floor, her right hand still raised while the left slowly rose to cover her open mouth. Then several things happened at once. Lilly moved into action, mouth and hands working against each other, apologies spilling through her lips even as her fingers moved to prepare her backside for the spanking she knew was coming. “I am so sorry– please– don’t– I won’t– I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Adam, please– please don’t–” Her entire demeanor shifted. She babbled incoherently while her hands flew to her jeans, undoing the button and zipper and shoving them toward her knees before stumbling at the bed, hands catching her, leaving her bent at the waist and babbling still. In the same instant that Lilly began moving, Adam’s entire countenance shifted. The planes of his face seemed to become sharper, his posture stiffer. His eyes narrowed, replaced the frazzled new-husband look, his expression hardening as he stood and began undoing his brown leather belt. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before folding the belt and walking to Lilly’s side of the room. He stood by her for a moment, listening to her spilled apologies and disjointed pleas. After a moment he placed a warm hand on the small of his wife’s back and her chattering ceased. He rubbed up to her shoulder blades a few times, calming them both, before stepping back. “I’m sorry…” she whispered once more as she felt him move away.

Adam brought his heavy belt down across her backside, a two dozen times at least, quickly, sharp smacking sounds filling the air, turning the skin a bright pink. Lilly’s fingers clutched the bedspread, her elbows locked in place and shaking slightly at the onslaught. When he stopped, he could see the glow of color even through her white underwear.  He pulled them down to her knees and stepped back, preparing for the last bit of the punishment. One, he counted in his head as Lilly let out a small whimper; these strokes were harder, calculated, unlike the steady whipping she’d just received. Two, he thought, bringing the strap down again just below the first lick. Three, and he had found his rhythm, four— he was halfway done. Each stroke made her gasp more audibly–five— though she remained rigid in her position. Although he never announced a number aloud, he made sure to decide beforehand how many stripes he would dole out, lest he be too harsh–six, and she squeaked– or, as he more often wished to be–seven, a hard stroke near her thighs– too lenient. He allowed number eight to fall diagonally across her backside, which glowed red. As the last stroke hit home he dropped the belt on the floor.

Hearing the clank of the buckle hit the carpet, Lilly knew it was over. She turned and plowed into his open arms, sobbing and apologizing and tripping over her jeans. “Shhh, lovey, it’s okay, shhh…” he crooned, stroking her hair and back and hugging her tightly. As she calmed he guided them back to the bed, pulling her gently into his lap, doing his best to keep her weight on her thighs.

As her tears slowed he kissed her wet cheeks, and they rocked slowly back and forth. Eventually she turned her brown eyes upward and he knew she was okay, ready to move on. He set her back on her feet as he stood, gathering his belt as Lilly eased her jeans up over her sore rear end. She slipped on a pair of house shoes as they both stepped gingerly around the broken glass and out to the balcony, settling into the cheap plastic chairs that took up the small space, Lilly sitting down slowly on the white chairs. After a moment Adam said, “You could make a home on the moon if that’s what you wanted. I know that. You know I know that.”

And Adam really believed it was true. Tonight’s spanking had nothing to do with her maturity level or abilities. The session had little (if anything) to do with their heated argument, except as a catalyst for the vase-throwing. Adam and Lilly fought sometimes, as most couples did. Truth be told, Lilly liked to fight sometimes. She liked the yelling, the venting, the energy, the making-up. Spanking had been a part of their relationship from the beginning, both as a playful bit of their sex life and a serious consequence. However, Adam was no more in favor of micro-managing than Lilly was of being managed. Discipline was reserved for things they found mutually unacceptable– throwing vases being one of those things. Usually, spankings were merited because Lilly pushed for them. Before she met Adam, she internalized everything, allowing stress to build and avoiding small problems until they became too large for her to face, sending her into a fresh melt-down every few months.  She knew what she wanted from him, though, and told him from the beginning.  Truthfully, she still internalized most things, but now Adam could read her like a book, could see the subtle signs and the hidden warnings, could coax the stress out on most occasions. Rarely did things get to the point of a mini-tantrum, but when they did Adam dealt with her swiftly, firmly– not because he found such behavior unacceptable, but because she did.

Of course, tonight had been a surprise. He didn’t think she’d planned to throw the vase any more than he’d expected her to.

“I’m sorry,” came her now-quiet voice. “I shouldn’t have jumped down your throat like that. I just felt… personally responsible for your hesitancy.” She reached out for her husband’s hand, resting their entwined fingers in her lap before continuing, “I’m just… I’m so ready to be somewhere new. And I’m ready to experience something new. This maybe be a different place for you, but I’ve never lived anywhere else. I want a change.”

Adam slowly nodded his head and gave her hand a squeeze. “I think you’re right and wrong. You’re right, I have gotten cozy here, and I’m known to drag my feet. I don’t think up and leaving as soon as you get your diploma is the wisest choice.”

It was her turn to nod thoughtfully. “So, a compromise?” Adam smiled and opened the floor for bargaining. “We save for a year and then move.” Lilly’s eyes went wide. “No way, Hose. One month from graduation.”

“In your dreams!” he replied. “Six months.”

“Move in the middle of the holidays? You are out of your mind. How about we stay the summer?”

Adam mulled it over. “End of the summer… okay, but we don’t start packing until the first day of school for the poor saps you’ll be leaving behind at the University.”

She grinned at him, standing and tugging him up as well. “You’ve got a deal,” she said as they embraced. He leaned in for a kiss, lingering afterward before tucking his face in at her shoulder, feeling her soft wavy hair brush his skin. They held each other for a while before unfolding. Lilly cast Adam a serious look before she turned towards the door. “I’m mostly excited to be getting rid of that ugly old garden gnome your aunt sent for Christmas. It will definitely be getting lost in the move.” She bit her lip, trying not to smile as she baited him.

He’d pulled her back from the door and had her leaning over the waist-high balcony railing before she’d finished the sentence; her hair fell in front of her face as she shrieked and giggled and struggled to free the wrist that was now pinned to the small of her back. She reached back with her other hand, only to have it entangled in the same long fingers, one of his big hands now holding both of hers in place. “You spoiled little thing,” he said, close to her head. “My Aunt Sally loved that gnome.” As she giggled he moved his lips to the edge of her ear, his tone changing, whispering, practically growling, in his beautiful voice (and turning her small laughter into a subtle moan), “Silly garden ornaments should be the furthest thing from your mind right now, young lady.”

Her heart fluttered and she felt the familiar chills run down her spine. She bucked backwards against his hands in what she would playfully claim was a move to free herself, though in reality she was providing what she knew would be an irresistible target. And of course the swats came, light and quick, peppering her freshly spanked backside as she shrieked almost silently, acutely aware of the possibly listening neighbors, struggling only because she liked to feel his grip tighten. His hand came down one final time, hard, centered, unexpected in its force, while his other hand released her wrists. She emitted a loud unintentional yelp, which caused her to blush as she turned around indignantly. Before she could gather her thoughts he scooped her up into his lean arms, speaking slowly into her ear as he carried her back inside and deposited her in the bedroom beside the scattered green glass.  “Now… you’ve got a mess to clean up!”