Tag Archives: spanking fiction

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.”

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.

That’s a Good Mutual Friend

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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

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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.

A Weekend Away (Part Two)

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This is part two of a birthday story for a friend!  Part one can be found here.

“Caitlyn,” he said, his voice now very stern, “I want an explanation.”

Corrine had a moment of sympathy for the young woman as she watched her fidget.  Not because Caitlyn was about to be spanked again- that Cory had no problem with and was rather looking forward to watching.  No, she knew that Caitlyn wasn’t sure whether Robert wanted her to turn around or talk into the corner, and so instead of doing either, she froze like a scared rabbit.

Robert did not share Corrine’s sympathies.  After a moment’s hesitation, he walked over and pulled Caitlyn back from the corner, putting an arm around her waist and lifting her up so that her toes barely touched the floor.  Her hands came up abruptly as she tried to steady herself against the walls of her freshly vacated corner, and then there was nothing but the sound of Robert’s hand landing hard and fast on her already bared bottom, disrupted only by Caitlyn breathless cries of “Daddy” and “please” and “I’ll explain!”

Corrine noted with some satisfaction that Shelby was squirming in her corner, but making no move to turn and watch.  She smiled, then watched as Robert returned Caitlyn to her feet, turning her to face him.  Caitlyn pouted at the floor, and her daddy reached over gently to tip her chin up to look at him.  She began to explain, reluctantly.  “Well… Corrine was working.  And we were watching TV.”  She bit her lip pitifully, glancing at Cory as if hoping she would take over the narrative.  Corrine merely raised her eyebrows, and Robert shifted his stance slightly, indicating that he didn’t plan to wait much longer for her to get the words out.  Caitlyn said finally, “We were just playing, Daddy.  With some markers that were in the coffee table.  And we got… a little carried away.”

Robert began to pace with his hand on his chin.  “This is usually the part where I would say ‘I see,’ but I don’t understand at all, little girl.  What do you mean, carried away?”

Unable to stand it any more, Shelby blurted into her corner, “We marked all over each other and Corrine made us wash it off in the kitchen.  Sir.” Robert glanced at Corrine, and an unspoken agreement was made as they shared surprise at the little girl’s outburst. Corrine hoped her look conveyed what she felt- If you don’t, I will!

Seconds later, he was spanking Shelby much as he had spanked his own little girl, scolding as he did so.  “I did not ask for your input, young lady.  I know how much you and Caitlyn care for each other, but that is not an excuse to answer questions I did not ask you.  I love how loyal you are to each other, but I don’t think Corrine tolerates that behavior from you, and neither will I.”  He finished the hand spanking, turning her around. Caitlyn glanced in Shelby’s direction, biting her lip nervously, while Shelby’s eyes flew to Corrine’s, even though she knew her Top would not be pleased, either.

Robert moved to the middle of the room, and pointed in front of him.  “Young ladies, I want you both right here.”  Once more, two naughty girls were forced to shuffle across the living room, their faces almost as red as their bottoms.  “As cute as you both are, I do not like to come home to find that you have been misbehaving.  I see Corrine gave you both nice red bottoms, which is the only reason I am not going to get my hairbrush right now.  But Caitlyn knows that when she misbehaves, she gets a whipping on her bare bottom with Daddy’s belt.  Every time.” Caitlyn let out an audible whine, and Shelby tugged on the edge of her dress, embarrassed to be scolded like naughty school girls.

Robert took a step back, unbuckling his belt and pulling it was a satisfying swish from the loops of his jeans.  “You are both very good girls,” he said as he folded it over, “and that is why you are going to get your bare bottoms spanked today until you are both very wiggly little girls, too.  I know you both know how to make good decisions. You are good friends to each other, and Corrine and I are so happy that you found each other.  But there are appropriate ways to behave, and coloring on each other not one of them.”

“Yes, Daddy,” and “yes, sir,” came two little voices, much more subdued than they had been earlier when they had said the same things.  In a matter of minutes, they were both bent over the coffee table, panties around their ankles and hands on the flat wooden surface. Corrine still sat on the arm of the couch, her expression stern as she watched.  The first crack of the belt rang loudly as he began spanking Caitlyn, and more followed as he settled into a steady rhythm.  “Ow, ow, owie, ow” came her soft voice, and the corner of Corrine’s mouth tugged upward when she saw Shelby reach for her friend’s hand.  Before too long, Robert had shifted his focus to the other bare pink bottom, and it was Shelby squeezing Caitlyn’s hand for whatever comfort she could get as the leather met her already sore backside again and again.

He paused and paced behind them, noting two pairs of feet shifting their weight back and forth.  “I am very proud of how you handle yourselves usually.  I love to see how you take care of each other, and to hear you laugh when you are being silly together.  But you know better than to draw all over each other.  That is unacceptable.  And that is why I have to use my belt to make sure that this does not happen again.  We are going to have a nice weekend, with no more marker fights.”

He began to swing his belt again, spanking Caitlyn as he scolded.  “You know better, don’t you little girl?”  “Yes, Daddy, yes Daddy, yes Daddy!” she wailed in response, wiggling her bottom as much as she could without taking her feet off the ground.  When he was satisfied, he turned his attention to Shelby, asking her also as he spanked “Do you know better than this, little girl?”  “Yes sir!” she answered promptly, sucking in her breath sharply and shutting her eyes tightly.  When he was finished, he reached down and tugged her underwear up, then pulled her into a hug.  “I am very glad that you are friends with my little girl.  I take that very seriously.  She is so important to me, and I am glad she has you in her life.” Shelby nodded into his chest, then made her way to the couch to sit by the arm where Corrine was perched.  She snuggled against her Top’s legs, taking comfort in the hands that immediately began stroking her hair.

Robert also walked around the coffee table, setting his belt down and squatting to look Caitlyn in the face; she had been waiting patiently for her hug, but he wasn’t quite finished with her yet.  “I love you very much, little girl.  And I wish we were finished with this spanking.  But Daddy has rules that he expects you to follow.” Caitlyn’s eyes were wide, full of confusion and apprehension.  “How do I expect you to stand in the corner, young lady?”

Comprehension and dread fell on Caitlyn’s face.  “Oooohhh, Daddy no!” Robert stood and walked back around the table, his arms encircling her waist again as he said “I asked you a question.”  He didn’t wait for her to respond before he began to bring his hand down on her sore bottom, harder than he had before and just as fast.  “Daddy ow, Daddy ow!  Bare bottomed, bare bottomed!” she finally squeaked out.  He continued spanking her for another minute, while Shelby buried her face in Corrine’s lap to avoid watching.

When he was finished, he pulled her up into a hug, rubbing her back and talking gently to her, re-assuring her that he was still the proudest Daddy in the world, and more than happy to correct her when she needed it.  When she had calmed down, he allowed her to fix her underwear and skirt before glancing pointedly at Corrine. Caitlyn flushed and walked over to the couch, hands clasped in front of her as she said “I’m sorry for misbehaving while Daddy was away.” Corrine opened her arms and pulled Caitlyn into a hug, one arm around each girl for a moment before letting Caitlyn return to her Daddy’s arms.

A moment later, the quiet was interrupted by a loud rumble, one which came from Corrine’s stomach and made Shelby jump. Corrine laughed easily and said, “Anyone else hungry?  We forgot to make our own dinner plans while Daddy was away,” she said, winking at Caitlyn.  As if on cue, there was a knock at the door.  “Good thing I ordered a pizza during time-out earlier.”

Robert smiled and moved to greet the delivery person while Shelby and Caitlyn both looked at Corrine, mortified.

“What if they had gotten here early?!??”

A Weekend Away (Part One)

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This is part one of a story written for a dear friend’s birthday. Names have been changed to protect the guilty. Enjoy!

Corrine glanced at Caitlyn and Shelby, who giggled as they watched television together. Corrine herself was on her laptop, finishing up some end of the month bills.  They were all enjoying a weekend together in the mountains, along with Caitlyn’s daddy, Robert. He had stepped out a few minutes ago, headed to dinner with a high school friend who happened to live in this part of the country. He’d said goodbye to Corrine, then to the girls, planting a kiss on the top of Caitlyn’s head and exiting with a final glance in their direction and the word “behave.”  “Yes, Daddy,”and “yes, sir” came two sweet answers as he shut the door, making Corrine smile.

The giggling subsided, but Corrine noticed Shelby seemed to be keeping an eye on her.  That was never good. Corrine hoped that for Shelby’s sake, she waited until Corrine was finished with her work before she started any mischief.  The Top hated having to pause in the middle of a task, and would make that very clear if necessary.  Both young ladies were already sitting on pink bottoms, but those were from warm and friendly spankings, greetings from their respective people for the weekend.

It appeared to be her lucky day, though. Corrine refocused her attention on the computer, and was soon so into her task that she stopped paying attention to the rest of the living room.  So when she did finish and look up, the sight before her came as a bit of a shock. Shelby and Caitlyn both had colorful marks all over their arms and legs, and markers clutched in their hands, held aloft like weapons. Corrine realized now that the occasional noises she’d heard from the couch were the attempted silencing of shrieks at each other, and not reactions to the movie. Shelby noticed her Top looking in their direction first, and her expression changed immediately.  Caitlyn saw her friend’s face and glanced backward, making eye contact with Corrine. She “eeped” and dropped the fat purple marker in her hand onto the floor.  “We were just playing,” offered Shelby, but she could see that Corrine was not amused.

“Kitchen, now.  You better hope that marker all comes off.”  Both young women rose at Corrine’s command and walked slowly into the kitchen, where Corrine handed them washcloths and watched as they scrubbed at the short lines and swiftly placed dots that decorated every bit of exposed skin. Shelby even sported a mark on her chin, while Caitlyn had several green lines on her knees.  As they washed, Corrine began to scold them. “You were asked to get along for an hour so I could work in peace, and all the while you two were getting up to this nonsense right under my nose?  This is not how we treat our friends. This is how children with their first pack of markers behave.  And I thought I had two well behaved-young ladies on my hands.”  She handed them both dry towels as they finished up.

“Eyes up here,” Corrine demanded, and two pairs of guilty eyes tore themselves from the floor to look at her face.  “What happens when we behave like naughty girls in this house?”

Simultaneously, Caitlyn whispered “No!” as Shelby said “But Cory…” The Top merely put her hands on her hips and looked from one young woman to the other.  “I’m waiting. Shelby? What happens?” Shelby’s face fell into a spectacular pout as she finally blurted out, “They get spanked.”

“And how do they get spanked, Caitlyn?”

Caitlyn couldn’t keep her eyes up as she reluctantly answered, “On their bare bottoms.  But Cory-”

“Absolutely not. No excuses. Both of you march your little heinies back into the living room. Caitlyn, you find yourself a corner. Shelby, beside the couch.  Scoot.”

Both young women did as they were told. Corrine made herself comfortable on the couch, taking her time as Shelby fidgeted nervously beside her, up until the moment she was tugged down across her Top’s lap.  As Corrine adjusted the girl’s skirt, she looked over to the little one in the corner.  “Is that how Daddy expects corner time, Caitlyn?” She said sharply.

Caitlyn bent her knees a little in embarrassment as she whined quietly, “but Daddy’s not here.”

Caitlyn heard the distinct click of a phone camera, a useless vestige from a pre-digital world that told her everything she needed to know about what was going on behind her.  “Wait no, I’ll fix it!” she said, scrambling to lift her skirt.  She heard Corrine talking as she typed, “Dear Robert, something seems to be wrong with this picture.  I just can’t seem to pinpoint it.”

A moment later, the ding of a response echoed in the room and Corrine read aloud, “Well that’s funny. Daddy says that you should have your ‘skirt up,’ and since you must be feeling stubborn, your ‘panties down.'”  Both Shelby and Caitlyn groaned, and Caitlyn’s did as she was told this time, slipping her lacy underwear down to rest on her ankles and rearranging her hands behind her back.  “Much better,” Corrine said before turning her attention to the little girl across her lap.  “Now, time to give you the spanking you are so clearly in need of.  “But I’m not!” Shelby protested, but then Corrine’s hand was falling on her panty-clad bottom and she didn’t have the words to protest any more for several minutes.  In no time at all, Shelby found her feet kicking a little and she was having trouble keeping her bottom from clenching up. Corrine stopped spanking, but only long enough to pulled the girl’s underwear down below her knees, shifting the young woman on her lap, not allowing her to help on her own.  When her hand found the bare skin of Shelby’s bottom, the girl really began to wiggle, but Corrine was just getting started.  Her hand was nothing to scoff at, and she was using it to cover every inch of the young woman’s bottom.  She eyed Caitlyn occasionally, watch the girl in the corner’s bottom jump ever so slightly when a swat landed particularly well, twitching in nervous anticipation.

When Corrine was satisfied that Shelby’s stay in the corner would be a very uncomfortable one, she stopped spanking and rubbed the girl’s bottom as she finished up her lecture from earlier.  “This is a nice trip, little girl.  I do not expect you to do any more ‘art’ on any more people.  Is that understood?”

“Yes ma’am,” came the swift reply.

“And I certainly do not expect you to continue instigating for the rest of this weekend.  Is that understood?”

“But how do you know…”

Her rebuttal was cut off as Corrine quickly and without warning began spanking again, just as hard and fast as she left off.  “Are you telling me that you didn’t start it?” she asked.

“No! I did, but-”

“Then do not waste my time with silly questions like that, little girl.”  She began spanking even harder, which Shelby hadn’t realized was possible.  “Now back to my original question.  You will not be causing more trouble on this trip.  Are we clear?”

“Yes ma’am!”

“Good,” Corrine said with a final swat.  “Then you need to walk your little tush over to the corner and trade places with your friend.” Shelby stood, letting her dress fall down and looking at Corrine pleadingly for permission to pull her underwear up.  She received an unsympathetic look back, and turned with a frown to take Caitlyn’s place in the corner.  “Pull down your skirt and make your way, Caitlyn.”  The two girls glanced at each other pitifully, both waddling in different directions with their undies inhibiting their steps.  When Caitlyn reached Corrine’s side, she hesitated and glanced at the front door of the house.  “Cory…” she said nervously, wringing her hands together.  “Yes?” said the Top with a raise of her eyebrows.  “Daddy…” Caitlyn began again, but again she couldn’t finished. Corrine had a fair idea of what was bothering her, though.

“What, Caitlyn?  Are you worried about Daddy’s rules?  Are you worried that you’ll receive another spanking when he gets home?  Because I bet you’re absolutely right.  If you are spanked when he’s away, you’ll be spanked again when he’s home.  If you are looking for sympathy, you are looking in the wrong place.”  And with that she held out her hand expectantly.  With a quiet whimper, Caitlyn took the proffered hand and allowed herself to be pulled over Corrine’s lap, and soon her skirt was back up and she was receiving a spanking very similar to the one Shelby had received moments ago, except Caitlyn’s spanking started on her bare bottom. Corrine’s left arm was wrapped securely around Caitlyn’s waist, and she didn’t stop or even slow down when the woman began to wiggle and apologize a few minutes into the spanking.  Her bottom soon shifted with every swat, but again, Corrine continued until every inch of the naughty girl’s bottom was a deep red.

As she finished up, the questions began.  “Am I going to have to deal with this sort of naughtiness every time your daddy steps out of the room, young lady?”

“No ma’am!”

“I should hope not.  You are not going to let yourself be dragged along into any more shenanigans this weekend, little girl.  Not if you want to sit comfortably again this trip.  Is that clear?”

“Yes ma’am!”

“Good.”  And with that, Corrine slowed down the spanking and stopped, pulling the young lady’s skirt back into position and helping her up.  She gave her a hug, then led her to a vacant corner.  This time, Corrine was the one to adjust Caitlyn’s skirt and underwear, making sure her red bottom was perfectly on display.  Once she was satisfied, she moved over to Shelby, adjusting her dress and underwear as well, more to make a point than to actually fix any issue.  She rubbed the girl’s shoulders briefly, offering just a moment of comfort before moving back to the couch to admire the view of two very pretty spanked ladies.

The girls were just starting to fidget ten minutes later, when they heard the jingle of keys in the door.  Caitlyn whimpered again, and Shelby’s bottom clenched.  She had a feeling that if Caitlyn was in double jeopardy, so was she.  The girls always seemed to find trouble together, and she knew that tonight was no exception.  If she was honest with herself, she knew she deserved it, too.  She had been the first to write on Caitlyn, even if her friend had barely hesitated to join in the game.

A smiled played on Corrine’s lips as she noticed how still both girls became as Robert walked in the door.  “Well, looks like you’ve done some redecorating,” he said to Corrine as he walked into the living room, hands finding their way to his hips. Corrine stood and then leaned against the arm of the couch.  “Turns out,” she said, “that I had a few extra naughty girls on my hands.  I’ve always thought naughty girls looked best placed in the corners of a room.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”  The young women in the corners couldn’t see it, but Robert’s body language changed as he stopped the banter with Cory and turned around.  “Caitlyn,” he said, his voice now very stern, “I want an explanation.”

Want more? Check out part two here.

Helmets Not Optional

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Lisa dropped her purse on the counter and headed to the fridge, while Jessie made herself comfortable at the kitchen island. “I wish a water main break would shut down our offices,” she said as she watched Lisa put together a couple of gin and tonics. It was fast approaching fall, but it was still hot in the early afternoon hours. Lisa had called when she’d found out she’d be working a half day, and Jessie, who only worked until noon on Fridays, immediately agreed to meet at Jessie’s house for an afternoon of porch sitting.

Lisa smiled, handing her friend an icy drink and heading outside. “The kids always think they are the most excited, but I swear someone popped a bottle of champagne in the teacher’s lounge. It’s amazing what a few unexpected hours of freedom will do for one’s mood.” Jessie had followed, and now the women made themselves comfortable in the two big rocking chairs that dominated the front porch.

There was a cool breeze to temper the afternoon sun, and they were content after a few minutes to sit in silence with each other, sipping their drinks and listening to the birds chattering. It was the kind of peace that didn’t need commenting on, until-

“What the hell was that?” Jessie asked, opening her momentarily closed eyes at the sudden deafening noise of an engine, one which was already fading again. Lisa looked irate, as she gestured at the road. “Some jackass on a motorcycle who doesn’t understand that this is a neighborhood, not a highway.”

They both grumbled a moment, but it wasn’t enough to spoil their peace. When the rumble grew close again, though, they both perked up much earlier, two sets of eyes peering down the street at the rapidly approaching bike. When it blew by this time, both women sat frozen, Lisa with her glass halfway to her mouth, which hung open. Jessie’s lips formed a hard line and her eyes looked like they might bulge out of their sockets. Lisa found her voice and said with obvious disbelief, “Was that…?”

“Yes,” came Lisa’s terse response. She stood, hands on her hips, still glowering at the now empty road. “And without helmets. I’m gonna kill her.”

Lisa knew the her to which Jessie referred was Harper, whose dark locks had been unmistakeable on the back of the motorcycle. Lisa stood now, too, thinking a similar threat about the short haired woman who had been driving. She felt her position mirror that of her friend’s, and it was a very different silence now as they waited for the bike to make its third pass.

When it did, there was no mistaking that the two joyriders had spotted the women on the porch. The red of two small brake lights appeared immediately, though they were much too far past the house to stop.  They watched the bike slow and take an early right turn, making its way around the block. It took several minutes. Jessie was sure there had been a fierce discussion about whether to come back at all, and was glad this time for the putter of the engine as it neared the house once again.  They hadn’t even stopped before Jessie was off the porch, marching furiously toward the bike and its nervous riders.

Harper took in the look on Jessie’s face moments before she reached them, and immediately panicked, scrambling backwards off her seat as she yelled “Jessie don’t!”

It was too late. Jessie easily moved around the bike and the moment Harper’s sneakers hit the pavement, she was bent forcibly back over the leather seat, and Jessie’s hand was coming down hard and fast on the seat of her jeans.  Jade felt the color drain out of her face as she automatically held her stance, keeping the bike steady. It felt like a betrayal to her hapless friend, but she didn’t know was else to do. Her heart was pounding as she tried to tune out the very public spanking that was happening inches behind her. She risked a glance toward the house and toward Lisa, half-terrified that it was about to be her turn over the motorcycle.  Lisa was still on the porch, but Jade didn’t have time to be thankful.  She felt the balance of weight shift again and she adjusted automatically, and then the sharp “off, now.”

The second the bike was steady, there was a sharp pain in her right ear, and she found herself being dragged across the lawn.  A small part of her brain registered a flustered sob from a few feet away, from poor Harper who was held captive by her left ear on Jessie’s other side. She was released at the porch steps, where Lisa looked especially intimidating as she towered above her.  She took a quick step away from Jessie, looking at the ground and rubbing her ear furiously. A quick glance upward revealed Harper’s flaming red face, freckles hidden in her furious blush.

“I am so sorry to be leaving in such a rush,” Jessie said, and Lisa shrugged and smiled humorlessly back at her. “Call me tomorrow?” Jessie nodded, shot a quick glare in Jade’s direction, and turn toward the driveway.  To Jade’s surprise, Harper didn’t glance back at all.  She moved in close to Jessie, who wrapped her arm around the mortified girl.  Jade found this surprising. She was mad at Jessie for embarassing her friend like that. But Harper didn’t seem angry.

“Natalie Jade,” came Lisa’s voice, and she was snapped out of her contemplation, “what do you have to say for yourself?”  Jade mumbled something unintelligible.  Lisa was not lowering her voice in the slightest, and while it may not be as bad as finding oneself bent over a motorcycle and spanked on the street, being lectured like a 15-year-old in the front yard came with its fair share of embarrassment. “Speak up,” Lisa prompted.

“I didn’t think you’d be home,” she said, digging the toe of her right sneaker into the grass at her feet, dislodging a late blooming  dandelion.

Apparently, this inadequate answer used the last of Lisa’s patience. She turned, gathered the glasses from earlier, and stormed into the house. Jade hesitated only a moment before scrambling up herself, half afraid that if she didn’t, she’d be dragged again by her ear. Once had been plenty.

As she closed the door, she heard Lisa’s voice from the kitchen, above the clutter of dishes being moved around in the sink. “Corner!”  Jade had never been sent to the corner before, but she didn’t ask for further explanation. She glanced toward her room, then of the living room, unsure which Jessie wanted. It was still fairly early, and the blinds were open in the living room.  Jade dashed toward her bedroom, shoving some dirty clothes out of a mostly empty corner and standing there, placing her hands awkwardly on her head, then crossing them, then finally settling with them neatly clasped behind her back.

When she heard Lisa enter the room close to 10 minutes later, she looked over automatically. Seeing the brush in her hand, Jade immediately turned, jamming her backside into the corner where she had been standing, hands out defensively as she said “you don’t need that!”

Lisa didn’t bother answering her. She went over to the bed and made herself comfortable, sitting by the pillows and leaning against the backboard, legs straight in front of her. “Get over here.”  Jade couldn’t help but glance at the bedroom door, but she did it she was told. As soon as she was in reach of the bed, Jesse reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her close enough that she could lean over and undo the button of Jade’s jeans.  She left them up, for now, and pulled Jade across her lap. She took a moment to make sure the girl was settled, and then began to spank her with her hand on the seat of her jeans.

“I should not have to tell you that a helmet is required when you are riding that thing! You are an adult woman, with a brain that works just fine.  So you better start using it!” Even through her jeans, Lisa’s hand was stingy, and she didn’t neglect Jade’s sit spots or the tops of her thighs.   She paused her lecture only to pick up the brush, which she began to apply with just as much vigor. “And what on earth were you doing joy riding around the neighborhood? There are plenty of country roads and more than enough highways around here for you to go play on.”

The use of the hairbrush had Jade wiggling a little now, but she managed to say “I didn’t want to take Harper on the highway!”   She would have said anything to pause the onslaught. She could handle the brush over denim, but her brain was in overdrive thinking about the next logical step in this spanking. She was terrified.

As if reading her thoughts, Lisa set the brush down and grabbed the waist of Jade’s pants, tugging them down well below her bottom. The younger woman wore black and red boy cut underwear, under which peeked a dark blush of pink.  “Oh,” said Jessie as she began spanking Jade again with her hand, “so now you’re concerned about Harper’s safety? I am not sure if that girl has ever been on a motorcycle, and she should know better herself, but it’s your machine and you were driving the thing. It is your responsibility to make sure that she is wearing a helmet, too.”

“I’m sorry!” Jade wailed. She wasn’t sure why she kept talking. Everything she said just got her in more trouble.  “Lisaaaa, nooo,” she whined minutes later as the other woman yanked Jade’s underwear down. Jade felt the cool  wood of the hairbrush against her hot bare skin and kicked her legs into the bed.  “No, no, no!” Lisa merely wrapped her free arm around the younger woman’s waist.  “My patience for temper-tantrums is low on a good day, little girl.  Take a guess at how much patience I have for you today?” And then the brush was falling, interrupting Jade’s groan of frustration.

Her feet began to kick again immediately, but not the big dramatic show from before.  Now her legs made small, desperate movements, which matched the small desperate noises she was making.  Lisa didn’t stop until Jade was out of breath and her bottom was swollen and red.  When Jessie was finished, it was usually abrupt.  This time was no exception.  “C’mere,” she said as she set the brush down.

Jade scrambled up, laying on her side and throwing her arms around her mentor and best friend, not caring that her pants and undies were still around her knees.  She clung to her as Lisa ran her fingers through her hair and occasionally planted kisses on the top of her head.  When Jade had calmed down, Lisa looked down and tipped the girl’s chin upward. “Never again.  Or you will sell that bike and I will spank you every day it’s on the market.”

“Yes ma’am,” Jade gulped. She buried her face again, and reached a hand down tentatively to rub her sore bottom. At least at this moment, she wasn’t sure she’d ever want to sit on a motorcycle again!