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Archive for F/M Spanking Stories

Future Spank story entry – out of this world~

Future Spank story entry – out of this world~ 4.75/5 (95.00%) 8 votes

Readers,
Enjoy this fun entry to the Future Spank contest – I did!
-  Dana
By 2,500 A.D. men had turned our planet into a state of constant warfare.  Young men were taken from their families at the age of 6 and raised by the state where they were taught sports and activities designed to enhance military skills.  By the time they were 16 they were conscripted into the military where they lived in barracks and remained soldiers until they were 62.  Fossil fuels were being rationed and renewable energy proved to be a boondoggle and couldn’t be sustained without government subsidies.  Our planet had entered another mini ice age similar to the period when General Washington wintered over at Valley Forge during the American Revolution.  Because of the colder climate we weren’t able to grow as much food and the world population decreased.  Just the opposite of what happened during the medieval period of global warming when Greenland was green and the warm climate allowed a surplus of food to be produced and the world’s population increased.

My name is Boudice and I was able to unite the women of our area with a vision of a better future.  Our borders were secure and there was no need to expand.  My plan was to submit the men to my vision of peace.  I organized the women to withhold sex with their mates until they submitted to our two demands; the end of warfare and election of women to political power.  Over the next years voters realized that women made the best political leaders and we were in total charge of our government.  Men became submissive to women and wars stopped.

That is about the time I discovered an old manuscript from the early 1900′s written by Dorothy Spencer.  She was a leading authority on marital harmony and the lost art of spanking.  She advocated that couples agree to spankings to clear the air.  The spanking would sincerely benefit the party at fault and not lead to dangerous quarrels- when the spanking is over the situation is resolved.  According to her plan revenge, oppression, force, and violence are omitted.  The idea is to administer punishment and avoid arguments that can lead to divorce court.  The plan calls for willful submission to a cooperative system of beneficial discipline.  Spankings should never be administered in anger and men are to be spanked with wooden paddles.  Punishments were to be painful so that the man being spanked would not want to repeat the experience.

The Spencer spanking plan was written into our law codes.  Every willing woman was issued a Spencer style spanking paddle with the authority to apply it to any adult male exhibiting aggressive behavior.  Tracking devices were inserted in the forearms of all males when they reached their 18th birthday.  Any man committing even minor acts of aggression if confronted by a paddle carrying disciplinarian was immediately identified by his tracking device and could choose either jail time or an immediate pants down paddling.  Most men avoided these public paddlings; but, a few seemed to have a strange need for an occasional spanking. They didn’t seem to enjoy the actual spanking but always returned for more  You could tell from their expressions that the spankings were painful but they apparently received some release from the pressures of the day after they were allowed to pull up their pants and continue on their way.

Today on my way home from the government health club I stopped by a food outlet and the young man in front of me argued about his ration card with the government service agent.  I grabbed him by his ear, lowered his pants and briefs to around his knees, bent him over the counter, announced that he would receive 10 spanks for his rude aggressive behavior, and told him that if he didn’t stay in position I would start my count again.  When I finished this 20 year old man was crying uncontrollably and his entire bottom was one bright red welt.  You could make out the imprint of the holes from my paddle!  I don’t think he was one of the men who has a strange need for an occasional paddling.

Now a little more about me.  I am a 35 years old 5′ 11″ tall and an avid body builder.  I have very little body fat due to daily workouts and diet.  These attributes aided me with my leadership during the revolutionary changes in our society.  As one of five Directors and a member of the Senate I wield much political power.  I have a civil union agreement with my mate Eric.  He is very fit like me and a type A male.  Because of this he feels the sting of my paddle about three times a month.  He hates these paddlings as much as I enjoy giving them.

It was brought to my attention that he was involved in an altercation over sharing Nautilus equipment at our government run health center.  When I returned to our housing pod without changing out of my skin tight yoga pants I put a straight backed chair in the middle of our bedroom and laid my Spencer paddle on the chair.  When Eric arrived home I greeted him with a passionate kiss on his mouth and told him to meet me in our bedroom.  When he came into the bedroom I slapped his face, sit in the chair with the paddle on my lap, and ordered him to strip and get over my knee.  I raised the paddle high in the air above my head and brought it down across the middle of his bottom with a snap of my wrist leaving a perfect imprint of my paddle across his bottom as he left out a gasp.  The second spank was just below the first and just as hard leaving another perfect imprint.  Next I started alternating from cheek to cheek as he cried, begged, kicked, squirmed, and danced over my lap.  He likes no part of being draped over my lovely lap.  Twenty-five spanks later his bottom was bright red, his eyes were blood shot and puffy, and tears were running down his face.  When I allowed him off of my lap to do his spanking dance around our room I smiled and felt a feeling of power.  When he finally calmed down I gave him another passionate kiss on his mouth.

Men have learned not to be submissive and not aggressive and warfare is a thing of the past under our new regime.

‘A New Beginning’ : Future Spank story

‘A New Beginning’ : Future Spank story 4.92/5 (98.33%) 12 votes

The Future Spank contest really revved some imaginations. Here’s another fun one, called ‘A New Beginning’.
- Dana
A New Beginning
By 2,500 A.D. men had turned our planet into a state of constant warfare.  Young men were taken from their families at the age of 6 and raised by the state where they were taught sports and activities designed to enhance military skills.  By the time they were 16 they were conscripted into the military where they lived in barracks and remained soldiers until they were 62.  Fossil fuels were being rationed and renewable energy proved to be a boondoggle and couldn’t be sustained without government subsidies.  Our planet had entered another mini ice age similar to the period when General Washington wintered over at Valley Forge during the American Revolution.  Because of the colder climate we weren’t able to grow as much food and the world population decreased.  Just the opposite of what happened during the medieval period of global warming when Greenland was green and the warm climate allowed a surplus of food to be produced and the world’s population increased.

My name is Boudice and I was able to unite the women of our area with a vision of a better future.  Our borders were secure and there was no need to expand.  My plan was to submit the men to my vision of peace.  I organized the women to withhold sex with their mates until they submitted to our two demands; the end of warfare and election of women to political power.  Over the next years voters realized that women made the best political leaders and we were in total charge of our government.  Men became submissive to women and wars stopped.

That is about the time I discovered an old manuscript from the early 1900′s written by Dorothy Spencer.  She was a leading authority on marital harmony and the lost art of spanking.  She advocated that couples agree to spankings to clear the air.  The spanking would sincerely benefit the party at fault and not lead to dangerous quarrels- when the spanking is over the situation is resolved.  According to her plan revenge, oppression, force, and violence are omitted.  The idea is to administer punishment and avoid arguments that can lead to divorce court.  The plan calls for willful submission to a cooperative system of beneficial discipline.  Spankings should never be administered in anger and men are to be spanked with wooden paddles.  Punishments were to be painful so that the man being spanked would not want to repeat the experience.

The Spencer spanking plan was written into our law codes.  Every willing woman was issued a Spencer style spanking paddle with the authority to apply it to any adult male exhibiting aggressive behavior.  Tracking devices were inserted in the forearms of all males when they reached their 18th birthday.  Any man committing even minor acts of aggression if confronted by a paddle carrying disciplinarian was immediately identified by his tracking device and could choose either jail time or an immediate pants down paddling.  Most men avoided these public paddlings; but, a few seemed to have a strange need for an occasional spanking. They didn’t seem to enjoy the actual spanking but always returned for more  You could tell from their expressions that the spankings were painful but they apparently received some release from the pressures of the day after they were allowed to pull up their pants and continue on their way.

Today on my way home from the government health club I stopped by a food outlet and the young man in front of me argued about his ration card with the government service agent.  I grabbed him by his ear, lowered his pants and briefs to around his knees, bent him over the counter, announced that he would receive 10 spanks for his rude aggressive behavior, and told him that if he didn’t stay in position I would start my count again.  When I finished this 20 year old man was crying uncontrollably and his entire bottom was one bright red welt.  You could make out the imprint of the holes from my paddle!  I don’t think he was one of the men who has a strange need for an occasional paddling.

Now a little more about me.  I am a 35 years old 5′ 11″ tall and an avid body builder.  I have very little body fat due to daily workouts and diet.  These attributes aided me with my leadership during the revolutionary changes in our society.  As one of five Directors and a member of the Senate I wield much political power.  I have a civil union agreement with my mate Eric.  He is very fit like me and a type A male.  Because of this he feels the sting of my paddle about three times a month.  He hates these paddlings as much as I enjoy giving them.

It was brought to my attention that he was involved in an altercation over sharing Nautilus equipment at our government run health center.  When I returned to our housing pod without changing out of my skin tight yoga pants I put a straight backed chair in the middle of our bedroom and laid my Spencer paddle on the chair.  When Eric arrived home I greeted him with a passionate kiss on his mouth and told him to meet me in our bedroom.  When he came into the bedroom I slapped his face, sit in the chair with the paddle on my lap, and ordered him to strip and get over my knee.  I raised the paddle high in the air above my head and brought it down across the middle of his bottom with a snap of my wrist leaving a perfect imprint of my paddle across his bottom as he left out a gasp.  The second spank was just below the first and just as hard leaving another perfect imprint.  Next I started alternating from cheek to cheek as he cried, begged, kicked, squirmed, and danced over my lap.  He likes no part of being draped over my lovely lap.  Twenty-five spanks later his bottom was bright red, his eyes were blood shot and puffy, and tears were running down his face.  When I allowed him off of my lap to do his spanking dance around our room I smiled and felt a feeling of power.  When he finally calmed down I gave him another passionate kiss on his mouth.

Men have learned not to be submissive and not aggressive and warfare is a thing of the past under our new regime.

‘Disengaging Autodrive’ : A Future Spank fantasy

‘Disengaging Autodrive’ : A Future Spank fantasy 4.33/5 (86.67%) 3 votes

‘Disengaging Autodrive’ is just another example of the creativity of spanko minds at work in the Future Spank story contest. Enjoy!

- Dana

Disengaging Autodrive
———————

Jeff Miller was the kind of self-absorbed jerk that gets promoted to Vice-President just a little too quickly. He stood at the point in his office where the south and the west windows intersected and looked far down to the roof of the executive parking structure, his eyes fixed on a single vehicle parked there. He had parked on the roof instead of in the covered parking this morning so that he could observe his new Nikola sportscar from a new angle several times throughout the day. The sun in the west window was almost parallel to the floor now, and it was Friday, and it was time to go.

The Nikola was a purchase that people like Jeff made when they wanted to show off. It was beautifully put together and very powerful, but it was also three times the price of the sweatshop-made warehouse-club cars that most people used, barely any bigger, and only slightly more comfortable. For all the power that the Nikola had, it was a slave to the ubiquitous autodrive feature that guided every car on the road to its destination, which meant that it didn’t actually arrive any faster than the cheapest plastic bubble on the road. But it was beautiful, and sitting in one told the world that you had more money than them, which is why Jeff had to have one.

On the ride this morning, the Nikola’s autodrive had moved him efficiently from home to work while Jeff had used the heads-up display to read some messages, surf the web, watch the news, and make some video calls. He hadn’t even touched the Nikola’s steering wheel nor any of the pedals. As he slid into the soft leather seat of the Nikola for his evening commute he instructed the car, “Nikola, take me home.”

“Destination set: home. Enjoy your ride,” replied the car.

Before the car had started, Jeff blurted out, “Wait. Screw it. Disengage autodrive.” A small smile spread across Jeff’s lips.

“Command not understood.”

“Nikola, Disengage autodrive.” Jeff’s smile faded.

“Are you sure?” Asked the car.

“Dis-engage-auto-drive!” Jeff shouted.

The car began to display and read a section from it’s user manual, “Mandatory government warning: Since 2025, all vehicles have been fitted with mandatory autodrive capability for your safety and efficiency. Disabling autodrive is highly discouraged and is for emergency use only. A $20 per mile tax will be assessed upon vehicles driving without autodrive to compensate the victims of road accidents. User is solely responsible for all traffic violations incurred while driving without autodrive. To continue to disengage autodrive, you must digitally sign a waiver by scanning your thumb on the fingerprint reader. Continue?”

Jeff’s smile was gone and he muttered something about the “bloody nanny state” under his breath. He swiped his thumb across the fingerprint reader and a moment later a small whirring sound announced the appearance of the steering wheel and pedals from a hiding place behind the dashboard. He flicked the start button, tapped the Nikola into forward gear, and eased silently out of the parking lot.

In his college days, Jeff drove one of the last gas-powered sportscars made, too old to be fitted with autodrive, and too much fun. He got his fair share of speeding tickets too, and under the government’s financial-means-tested penalty policy, when he was a college student he didn’t make enough money to be assessed a financial penalty. Not being assessed a penalty didn’t mean getting off lightly though.

When the government first introduced a financial-means-tested sliding scale of financial penalties for misdemeanors based on people’s ability to pay, there was a huge complaint from the middle classes. Average people’s nest-eggs for vacations and bigger TVs were eaten away by fines, whereas college students with no assets and little income got small fines or no fines at all. College students started to commit misdemeanors for fun knowing that they would not have to pay a fine for it. Something had to be done. A year later, the so-called ‘spanking bill’ passed through the government easily.

The government’s spanking bill meant that those who were getting away without paying a fine would now be physically punished instead. It was usually 12 strokes of an 8mm diameter, meter-long synthetic cane. Rather than having a sweaty police officer haphazardly striking the offenders, a spanking robot was developed that could clinically strike the offender’s bottom, with equal force in each stroke, and place the strokes parallel and slightly separated so as not to overlap the strokes. A room in the police station was used for the canings, and a police officer was present in case of a machine malfunction.

Jeff had received about 10 canings over the course of his college career, more than anyone he knew. The first ones were pretty scary, but after a while he realized that the canings weren’t that bad; the pain went away with aspirin and beer, and the marks went away after a few days. He even played “naughty speeder and angry police officer” with his college girlfriend from time to time and thoroughly enjoyed being on the receiving end of the inevitable spanking, but he was too stupid at the time to keep her as his girlfriend. Once he had graduated from college, he cleaned up his act and got a real job, he was assessed a few financial penalties for speeding, but then he replaced his old gas-guzzler with an electric autodrive car and never received a ticket after that.

Tonight, the fun was back. With the autodrive disengaged and Jeff at the wheel of the powerful Nikola, he surged past clusters of autodrive cars causing them to move erratically as they adjusted their trajectories for the single non-autodrive car around them, awakening their drivers or interrupting their entertainment. At some point in Jeff’s journey, a yellow light illuminated on the Nikola’s dashboard, indicating that he was exceeding the speed limit, but Jeff knew this section of freeway and knew that they had taken down the speed cameras years ago, and that it wouldn’t have a motorcycle patrol on it unless there was an accident. Besides, with his new salary, he knew he could easily afford whatever financial penalty that might be assessed for a speeding ticket.

As soon as Jeff arrived home and put the Nikola into park, he accepted an incoming video call on the Nikola’s heads-up display. It was the image of a female police officer, about his age, attractive, and somehow familiar. “This is officer Kane from the city police. Jeff Miller, your vehicle has reported that you have exceeded the speed limit at mile marker 217 of the President Wendy Davis Memorial Freeway at 6:15PM tonight, Friday the 23rd of March. Do you wish to contest the ticket?”

“Rat Bastard,” thought Jeff to himself – he had been turned in by his own car! There was no point in arguing, the police undoubtedly had all the evidence they needed from the Nikola’s telemetry. All that was left to do was to pay the fine. “No, Ma’am,” replied Jeff.

“Very well, report to the police station in precinct 7 immediately. I’ll send the coordinates to your autodrive,” said the image of the woman.

Jeff thought this was all wrong. Normally when you get a fine you just put your thumb on the fingerprint reader and pay it from your vehicle. Why did he need to go to the station? “Officer Kane, how much is the means-tested penalty for this offense? I’ll happily pay it by thumbprint right here on my dashboard,” said Jeff.

“The penalty is 18 strokes of a 12mm diameter, 1 meter synthetic cane. Report to the police station immediately. Officer Kane out.” The image disappeared.

Jeff’s mind raced. How could this be? Then it dawned on him, when means-tested financial penalties were introduced, there was a public outcry when financial penalties were being assessed on people with high salaries that were more costly than the cars the offenses were being committed in. The government’s spanking bill had both a lower salary limit and an upper salary limit, and his new salary put him above the limit. As he re-engaged the autodrive, the Nikola’s steering wheel retreated into the dashboard as if it had taken a cold shower.

Officer Kane was waiting on the steps of the police station as Jeff pulled up, having been alerted of Jeff’s arrival by the Nikola’s telemetry. Jeff got out of the car and instructed it to find the nearest available parking. Officer Kane was an amazing sight with her dark hair, piercing blue eyes, and muscular body displayed beautifully in her aerodynamic skin-tight motorcycle officer’s uniform. She was also taller than Jeff due to the tall stiletto heels on her boots that engage into the motorcycle’s safety system.

“Nice outfit,” said Jeff. “Do I know you?”

“Nice car,” replied officer Kane. “You’d better hope not.”

“Can I take you for a ride later?” Asked Jeff.

“You’re going to be taking a serious caning, Mr Miller. You’re not going to want to ride anything afterwards. Let’s go inside,” and with that, Officer Kane led Jeff into the punishment room that was just off the station lobby.

The punishment room was similar to the ones Jeff remembered from his college days, simply furnished with a punishment frame in the center, a punishment robot just off to the side of the frame, a coatrack, and a selection of canes on the wall, with the 12mm one being the thickest.

“Remove all your clothing and place it on the coatrack,” instructed Officer Kane, “and scan your thumb over the punishment docket.” Jeff did as he was told. Officer Kane then led Jeff over to the punishment frame and secured the straps for his wrists, upper arms, waist, upper thighs, and ankles. No movement was possible, ensuring an accurate, safe and even set of stripes from the punishment robot. Officer Kane loaded the 12mm cane into the punishment robot and gave it a fearsome-sounding test ‘swoosh’ before locking the robot in position.

Officer Kane stood in front of the punishment frame, face to face with Jeff. “Jeff Miller, you have been sentenced to 18 strokes of the 12mm diameter cane for the offenses listed in the punishment docket. You have declined a court trial. Your punishment begins now,” said officer Kane dispassionately, and then she lifted the safety cover on the spanking robot master control, dialled in 18 strokes, flicked the start button, and returned to the front of the spanking frame so she could study Jeff’s face.

The first stroke exploded on to Jeff’s backside, near the top of his buttocks. He yelled out in pain for a short moment until the second stroke landed just a little below the first. He was preoccupied with his pain but briefly noticed officer Kane studying his face intently. The third and fourth strokes elicited loud grunts from Jeff. The fifth stroke surprised him, despite being perfectly aimed and timed by the punishment robot, and he opened his eyes to notice that officer Kane was no longer standing in front of him. The sixth stroke landed and made him gasp, and then he heard a small click. The seventh stroke was late.

“Machine malfunction,” announced Officer Kane. “I’m going to have to complete the punishment manually.” Jeff heard the sound of the cane being removed from the punishment robot. “I’ll just move the punishment robot out of the way, after all, I need my space,” said officer Kane with a slightly sarcastic tone.

It was in that moment that Jeff realized where he recognized Officer Kane from. The words, “I need my space” were the last words that Jeff had texted to his college girlfriend. They were both older, and she had been working out, and had changed her hair, and was using a married name, and was taller in stiletto boots than the flats she wore in college, but it was definitely her. And he knew the rest of his punishment wasn’t going to be any easier.

“Disengaging the autodrive? Mr Miller, you should know better.” With that came three quick strikes from the cane, perfectly landing below the other ones, and if anything they were harder than the ones the robot had delivered. “Did you know you could have killed someone?” chided Officer Kane, before delivering three hard strokes right on top of one another in the crease between his buttocks and upper thighs that bruised almost immediately.

 

Jeff let out a yell and then grunted a “No Ma’am” as best he could. He was sweating hard.

“Six more,” announced officer Kane, “Did you know you’d be punished?” She landed three hard ones barely a second apart across the tops of his thighs creating three more bright stripes.

 

Jeff struggled against the restraints and then succumbed, grunting a further “No Ma’am”.

“Did you know that I have punishment duty on Mondays and Fridays?” Asked officer Kane, before delivering the last three strokes at an angle, intersecting several of the stripes on the fleshy part of his buttocks and causing him to squeal in pain.

 

“No Ma’am, but I do now” replied Jeff. Jeff relaxed a little against the restraints and unclenched his buttocks, exhausted from the ordeal. Then he heard a couple of quick footsteps behind him and felt an immense pain squarely across his backside and extending around his side as the tip of the cane wrapped around and struck his hip. Jeff yelled out as a piece of the synthetic cane snapped off and hit the wall. Officer Kane had used all her strength for that 19th stroke, and had surprised herself a little by breaking one of the so-called “unbreakable” canes.

 

“That one’s from me. Now get out of here,” said officer Kane as she undid the straps, “and you’d better hope you don’t get another punishment from me.”

While Jeff was dressing, he noticed that the spanking robot looked fine, other than that the emergency stop had been depressed. He thanked Officer Kane, gingerly walked out of the station, called the Nikola over to the station steps, and let the autodrive take him home while he lay face-down across the back seat.

Over the course of the weekend, and with the help of some aspirin and good whisky, Jeff’s pain subsided to a dull glow and he felt rather good about the incident. So much so in fact, that the following Monday evening Jeff left work as the sun was setting, disengaged the autodrive on his Nikola, joined the freeway, and pressed the accelerator down until the yellow light came on.

 

Another fun Future Spank story

Another fun Future Spank story 3.67/5 (73.33%) 3 votes

 

Readers,

Here’s a sweet little untitled entry to the Future Spank story contest – what a wealth of riches we’ve had with this contest!

- Dana

 

 

It was my final year at high school and we were about to graduate. My teacher was Dana10/93, who is a robot. Robotic teachers have largely replaced humans as teachers because they can teach multiple

subjects as opposed to human teachers who largely specialized in one subject.

However she was an excellent teacher and she earned our respect. She got us to call her Miss Dana but that
didn’t stop us calling her “Miss Tin Teacher” behind her back.

She had arranged a trip to New Zealand as part of a cultural exchange and we were learn about the Maori
people and their way of life. Before the trip, we received a lessons on Maori protocols and how to behave
when meeting and greeting them.

The school Jetbus picked Angela and I from our homes and whisked us to Las Vegas International Airport
where we boarded a hypersonic Hyperjet. A couple of hours later we landed at Auckland International

Airport in New Zealand where we boarded another Jetbus and then we disembarked at a Maori village in the city of Rotorua.

As soon as we stepped off the Jetbus we were greeted by a Maori woman singing in Maori. When we

entered the village we were suddenly confronted by a Maori Warrior approaching us waving a spear, poking out
his tongue and challenging me to pick up the branch of a tree that lay on the ground in front of me.

Although all our class had been briefed on the correct way to respond to the Maori challenge, Angela and I

collapsed into gales of laughter before Miss Dana quickly stepped in front of me and solemnly
picked up the branch but not before giving Angela and I an extremely angry look.

After the welcome Miss Dana wanted Angela and I excluded from the dinner and activities our Maori hosts

had planned for our class and to go wait on the Jetbus, but the Maori Elders convinced her to let Angela and I

remain with the class and enjoy the hospitality and generosity the Maori people are renown for.

After a delicious dinner which Angela and I rather guiltily ate, we enjoyed the entertainment our Maori hosts had
laid on for us, and then it was time to say good bye to our new Maori friends. Then Miss Dana confronted Angela and I.

“Firstly let me say how I am very angry and disappointed in you two for the extremely rude and totally insensitive behaviour  to our Maori hosts. You have not only let yourselves down but also sullied the good name and reputation of our school and for that you two will be punished”

“I have sent a video of you two’s appalling behaviour to your parents and they have allowed me punish you

both in any way I deem appropriate”. “You are both are to report me for detention at school when we get
back to Las Vegas”

The plane trip back to Las Vegas was largely silent for Angela and I as we reflected on our behaviour and
began dreading the detention that was coming. Even our classmates were and angry and disappointed at
us for ruining an otherwise successful and thoroughly enjoyable school outing.

We reported to Miss Dana for detention as ordered. She was dressed in an nineteenth century
school mistress attire and we entered a holographic recreation of historic American classroom.
Then Miss Dana addressed Angela and I :

“I have sent a report and copy of the video to the Principal and School Board of you two’s behaviour in New
Zealand and they have recommended to me that I should not allow you two to graduate. However I have
convinced the them both that is far too severe of a punishment. With both your parents permission,  I will

be punishing you both the way rude and disrespectful children were punished in the novel The Adventures of
Tom Sawyer”.

Angela and my hearts sank. We had both read The Adventures of Tom Sawyer as part of our lessons on

I immediately yelled in pain, jumped up and began frantically rubbing my bottom. Tears began welling in my eyes.
Miss Dana immediately commanded me to bend over the desk again.

“You have completely disregarded my instructions to you about moving and your hands.That will be two
extra strokes. You also failed to count the stroke and thank me. I will now recommence your caning”

CRAAACKK!!! The caning re-started. My bottom felt as if someone applied a red hot branding iron to it.
I began to cry and just managed to whisper “One thank you Miss Dana”

CRAAACKK!!! “Two thank you Miss Dana”

CRAAACKK!!! “Three thank you Miss Dana” I was crying uncontrollably by now.

CRAAACKK!!! “Four thank you Miss Dana”. I could barely speak. I had never experienced anything so painful
in my life.

CRAAACKK!!! “Five thank you Miss Dana”. By now my bottom was a mass of stinging, throbbing and aching
agony.

CRAAACKK!!! “Six thank you Miss Dana”

Suddenly my caning stopped and Miss Dana inspected my bottom and lightly rubbed it. It felt so good and I
thought my ordeal was over. She then walked over to the front of me and spoke to me.

“You have taken your punishment remarkably well but you still have two extra strokes to endure. See if you
can get through it without any extra strokes”

She then walked to take up her position behind me and I heard an ominous “Whooop” as she swished the
cane and I felt the three light taps on my bottom again.

CRAAACKK!!! I howled in agony and just managed to blurt out “Seven thank you Miss Dana”

CRAAACKK!!! My bottom was in so my pain I had to rub my bottom. In the nick of time I just remembered

to whisper “Eight thank you Miss Dana”

Miss Dana patiently waited for me to finish rubbing my bottom. “You forgot my rule about placing your hand on your bottom. For that you will receive an extra stroke. For you sake I hope it is your final one”

CRAAAACCKKK!!! My final stroke was delivered with real venom and and was the hardest of the lot. I
screamed in agony and in between my sobs just managed to say “Nine thank you Miss Dana”
I then slumped over the desk bawling.

I then felt Miss Dana hand as she applied her ointment to my bottom and almost immediately the pain and

welts that have covered my bottom began to disappear. I still had faint red stripes on my bottom when I looked in the mirror at home.

Miss Dana then ordered me to pull up my trousers and to sit down at my desk. I sat down rather gingerly
and then Angela and I continued with the rest of our detention which consisted of us composing an apology
in Maori which we did using a Universal Translator and International Languages Database. We then sent the

apology to the Maori Elders in Rotorua New Zealand.

‘The Spanker’ : Another great Future Spank entry

‘The Spanker’ : Another great Future Spank entry 4.00/5 (80.00%) 3 votes

Angel‘s Guardian Angel (from the Give til it Hurts fundraiser) entered this fun story for the Future Spank contest – enjoy!

- Dana

“The Spanker” (a satirical homage)
by “Guardian Angel

He had watched the series too often to count. A Twilight Zone marathon this week. Marathon. A winner in the long run, even though it was prematurely cancelled. Relegated to the network graveyard in 1964. But reborn because all good things do not come to an end.
He was viewing the final-season episode entitled “The Brain Center at Whipple’s”. Not a classic, but prescient for the present year 2164.
The titular character Whipple owned a factory that was in its downsizing phase. Whipple was firing workers and replacing them with machines. In the end, technology led to the undoing of Whipple. Who was bitter and alone.

Like Whipple, he despised technology. He looked to his left, cursing it. The machine. Piece of crap! Two centuries after “Whipple’s” aired, technology was still the bane of his existence.
And “piece of crap” was also an idiomatic expression two centuries later. For him, an appropriate criticism of The Spanker. The inexpensive version of The Spanker that he purchased was of poor quality. And, therefore, was prone to repairs. He called the company to complain. Help was on the way. He cursed the company that manufactured The Spanker, cursed the company that sold The Spanker, cursed The Spanker and cursed The Spanker’s absent repairman.
He was impatiently biding his time until the service representative arrived. He glanced at the time indicator on his wrist for the fifth time.

Fifty-five minutes later, the highly-anticipated chime. He was in a foul mood. When he opened the front door, his eyes widened. Surprisingly, the repairperson was a female wearing a baseball-like cap with the company name emblazoned on it. She removed the cap and issued the textbook apology. But before she could introduce herself, he voiced his first complaint to her.
“Ikea sells crap!”
“Hi! Here for The Spanker. Where is it?”
He indicated to his left.
“So what’s the problem?”
“The problem is: Ikea sells crap.”
“Yeah, I hear that … often … only recently.”
She fascinated him. She had a no-nonsense quality about her, an openness, an intelligence in her eyes, beauty and wit. What the hell was she doing with a job like this? “This”, of course, was repairs.
The complaints continued.
“Ages ago, Ikea sold crap furniture that had to be assembled. Now Ikea sells crap machinery with a diagram included. Crap furniture, crap technology. Crap.”
“If The Spanker is still under warranty …”
“I purchased this piece of crap last week!” He interrupted her which is what she couldn’t tolerate. He produced the receipt and forced it into her hand.
She thought, Crap, huh. As in, I’d like to beat the crap out of you. Now, now, she reflected, the customer is always right. But I’d still like to beat the crap out of him.
“Yeah, I can see that from the receipt. As it clearly indicates.” He was aware of the sarcasm.
“So, the company will replace it, right?”
“Gotta take a look, first.”

Minutes later, she was finished with her analysis. “There’s nothing wrong with The Spanker. Just wasn’t assembled correctly.” She looked into his eyes. Make me an offer. Nothing is free, pal.
“Can you get it running?”
“Yeah, but it’ll cost you for the service. A faultily assembled product is not the company’s fault, capish?”
She had braced herself for another complaint. “Okay, just do it. But it better work! I’m a lab technician, not a handyman!” The last word was said with disdain. A wicked smile from her, he noticed. I like her. Don’t get a chance to use my bratty nature enough with females.
She thought simultaneously. It’ll work all right. And then I’ll unleash The Spanker on you. You piece of crap!
She had a beautiful smile, though devilish. And she was extremely personable. Additional assets. She enjoyed chatting while working.
“S-o-o-o, The Spanker! A best seller. Said that, way back, spanking was underground. Then technology made the disciplinarians … or spankers … obsolete. Shame.” The last word was intended to be personal. It was what he sorely … literally and figuratively … needed. Discipline.
He was studying her and not her skill as a mechanic. Impressive!! Front and behind! Hair a bit disheveled. Almost wind-blown. “Is it windy outside, or did you use the washer and drier on your hair?” He stupidly snickered. The inappropriate comment disoriented her, and the wrench slipped from her hand.
“Excuse me?”
“Just having fun. No, really. You should have your hair cut professionally. A Tinkerbell look. Without the bun. From Peter Pan, you know. To shape your face. And … darken the color.”
“Y–e–a–h. I’ll consider it.” I will definitely be present when he tries to use The Spanker … to beat the crap out of him.
“Okay, done,” she announced. “Hey, lookie here! A wooden horse! Tell you what, let’s get you on the horse and move The Spanker behind you.” He felt excited at the prospect that she would be a part of product testing.
“Now, I’m only agreeing because we want to see if The Spanker works properly before you leave, right?”
“Gotcha!”
She pictured her future. An image of where she would be in the next half hour and how he would help her achieve her goal. To beat the crap out of him!
“Wait! Full effect, right?” She slowly unloosened and removed his belt. She studied the belt and folded it in half. “Hmm!” She wiggled it back and forth. Not stiff enough … for him. She began to work on his pants and quickly lowered them, almost as if pulling a rug from under him. The speed of the motion disoriented him. His pants fell to the floor. “Step out of them!” she ordered and he obeyed. Good boy, she thought and smiled. “Climb aboard!” Another order.
He raised himself on the horse and maneuvered into a jockeying position. She studied him. “Hmm! Let’s give it the full effect, why don’t we!” She used all the straps affixed to the horse to secure his arms and his legs and his chest.
“Is this necessary?” he asked with doubt and the beginning of fear in his voice.
“Oh, ab–so–lutely!” She felt confident and, as importantly, in control.
She returned to The Spanker and pushed it to a position behind him. She found the box with specially designed attachments for The Spanker. And inserted one. “Hmm!” She started the machine and moved a lever. He screamed at the impact.
“Just as I suspected. The Spanker works, but it’s too intense for you … now. Guess you’ll have to gradually build to a certain tolerance level.” Had he read the entire manual, the instructional booklet would have informed him about tension adjustments. She formulated, and would now enact, Plan B.
“But I was expecting to use it today!!” Said like a disappointed child.
“Well, we might be able to accommodate you, after all.” You piece of crap!
She looked askance. “Hey, is that a lab coat?!” She retrieved it. “It fits!” She extracted her hand phone from her pocket and placed it at a distance. “For posterity. Who knows … someone may be curious about the 22nd century. And we have an artifact. Archived.”
She looked directly into the lens of the phone and smiled with an expression that said, Payback is a bitch, you piece of crap! She spoke authoritatively.
“What we have here is a piece of crap. Correction: two pieces of crap. Won’t show you what The Spanker can’t do. But I will demonstrate what our generation is missing. A good, old-fashioned hands-on experience. First, a warm-up. Something this machine is unable to do.”
She walked behind him. “No warm-up from The Spanker, right? Don’t think so. But a warm-up from this spanker.” With his rear end raised, she delivered a few hard, well-placed swats. “Good thing I play handball without gloves.” He groaned. She looked into the lens and smiled. “He agrees.”
His voice quaked. “I think I’ve had enough.”
“Aw! Poor baby doesn’t realize that I only started. Warm-up, remember? Warm-up to be continued … Now!” She lowered his underwear, baring flesh, and swung with rapidity in the same spot. All hits precisely placed. Hey, I’m a natural!
“Are we finished?” The tone in his elevated voice registered extreme pain.
“Yes, … with my hand … for now.” The words were carefully separated … for effect. “I think I’ll test all of the products that Ikea has conveniently provided for us. What have we here?”
The first implement seemed ineffective. No discernible response. She casually tossed it aside and chose another. The smacks ranged from intense to highly intense. His body began to spasm, even when restrained. That’s what I want to see!! “Be still!” she commanded as if addressing a child. Which is how she perceived him. She looked at the lens and shook her head sideways. “Newbie!”
She picked up a hard, wooden object. “Now, take a d–e–e–p breath. Inhale. Hold it!” The intensity and swiftness of the strokes froze his brain. He did remember hearing the word “exhale”. She cooed sweetly and softly, “T–h–a–t’s good.” Pinched his cheeks, studied the affected areas and smiled mischievously into the lens. He mumbled inaudibly. She playfully tapped his back twice with the pain-providing apparatus. “Are you swearing? No swearing allowed!” He had said, “Bitch is crazy!”

By the time she concluded the session, he was as red as a beet. And his face was flushed. She studied her handiwork with the attention of an artist admiring the finished canvas. Even coloration. Mission accomplished: beating the crap out of a piece of crap. Think I’ll quit my day job. Got Ikea’s list of dissatisfied, potential customers. A start. This work fits me like this lab coat. The lab coat! “Mind if I keep the lab coat?” No verbal complaint, but a moan. Or was it a groan? “Didn’t think so.”
After she unfastened the restraints, he almost slithered to the floor.
She extended her left hand, palm up, open. Left-handers were once perceived as sinister. “Two deposits, please. Tribute as a tribute.” He complied. Worth paying her … to depart.
With a spring in her step, she walked in the direction of the door, thanking him for his advice. A makeover would complement her change of profession.
“Oh, and I am, as of now, officially a spanker, not a repairperson.” She remembered the “handyman” and washer/drier cracks. “And, in your case, a disciplinarian, as well, brat. And … when we meet again, which you can count on, you can thank me.” She emphasized the words “count” and “thank” which perplexed him. But he would count and thank her upon command at future encounters.

That day, she and he were transformed. Both realized that technology had severe limitations. It lacked human contact, finesse and an understanding of body language and needs with or without words or sounds. And a wicked sense of humor. Their connection was mutually satisfying. Even though if asked now, he would probably spew expletives and complaints. But he would begin to miss her. That bond between two people had a price. It would again be referred to as “tribute”. A word she thought she coined. It was, however, … without her knowledge … in her ancestral blood.

‘The Errant Robot’ : Future Spank entry

‘The Errant Robot’ : Future Spank entry 4.00/5 (80.00%) 2 votes

 

Readers,

Here’s another fine entry to the Future Spank story contest, which garnered a LOT of really creative writing. Enjoy ‘The Errant Robot’.

-  Dana

 

THE ERRANT ROBOT

 

Colin woke up with a start.

 

He looked at his bedside clock and swore silently under his breath. He was late, very late. Darn that maid, he thought angrily as he swung quickly out of bed.  He had planned to get into work early today. In fact he needed to.

 

He hurried though the vizi-screen that was showing a tropical beach scene and straight into the kitchen.

 

His Maidbot Lysette was standing, or rather frozen, in position by the kitchen counter. A large wooden spoon was held in one hand over a bowl she had obviously been ready to stir.

 

Lysette was dressed as a nineteenth century French maid. High heel, black court shoes, black stockings with lacy white garters, a black uniform with a frilly edged apron and a matching lace cap on her head. Colin lifted up the back of her skirt and was tempted to fire a hard fast slap against her silky black knickers with white lacy ruffles. But what was the point she wouldn’t feel a thing… yet! He Pushed his thumb in the small of her back and a compartment opened ejecting a small cylindrical object. Her battery. He put it in a charging unit and selected another that was ready and replaced it. Lysette immediately straightened up and turned round, a blush creeping into her porcelain cheeks.

 

She had rosebud lips painted crimson, deep brown eyes and tumbling her that fell past her shoulders and framed her impressive cleavage. Her lips trembled.

 

“I am sorry, Sir. I got distracted I didn’t realise my charge was so low.’

 

Colin pointed at the clock orb. ‘I am going to be late now. And I told you how important it was to wake me this early.’

 

‘I ‘m sorry. It won’t happen again.’

 

‘Hand me the spoon bend, over the table and present your bottom.’

 

‘Please, Sir. Not the spoon. Her lower lip trembled.’

 

‘It was going to be six, each buttock now it will be twelve.’

 

‘Lysette hurried over to the old fashioned kitchen table, bent over it and flipped up her skirt. Presenting her gloriously, womanly, curvy bottom. The silky panties  stretched tight.

 

Colin ran a hand over the smooth wonder of it, wishing he had more time.

 

‘Panties down, he barked.’

 

‘Lysette lowered her panties. Revealing the creamy magnificence of her splendid cheeks, kept modestly together.’

 

‘Crack!’

 

The spoon landed on her right buttock. She yelped but only just. She knew if she wriggled or cried out too loudly the punishment would be increased.

 

‘Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!

 

Lysette squirmed fighting to keep her thighs together. Colin stood back to admire his handiwork. The ivory perfection of her plump buttock had been pained with a red as deep as a fairy tale rose. He ran his hand over her bottom again feeling the heat rising.

 

‘This is just the start he said. The real punishment will be tonight I expect you to have the implements ready.

 

‘Yes, Sir,’ said Lysette tremulously and then gasped as the spoon landed again.

 

‘Thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack!!!’

 

The spanks sounded like pistol shots as Colin cracked the spoon hard down on each buttock.’

 

‘Lysette’s knees buckled and her hands flew to rub her sore bottom before she realised what she was doing.’

.

‘Hands away!’ barked Colin.

 

Lysette moved her hand away and this time Colin spanked the spoon hard three times on the top of each thigh.

 

The maid squealed unable to hold it back and Colin smiled as he looked down on her wriggling derriere.

 

Stay there till I have gone,’ he said. ‘And get the items ready for my return.’

 

He lingered for a moment, excited at the sight of her quivering flesh and then dashed off to the roto-shower.

 

*

 

Ten minutes later he was in the transporter bubble seated across from a tall red head. She was dressed, like most of them in the bubble in a proton body suit, that did nothing much to conceal the outlines of her figure. She had a haughty look about her and Colin fantasised for a moment or two about taking a wooden spoon to her haughty bottom too. But then crossed his legs and looked away. He was late, far too late. He clutched the documents case he held to his chest and hoped his boss would be in at her normal time.

 

Some minutes later and Colin exited the transport bubble and walked through the security scanning field at the entrance to The Museum of Old Things in New Las Vegas.

 

The droids at the other side of the field nodded to him and he hurried down the long marble corridor to his office. The plaque on the door read ‘Colin Freemantle 20th Century Archivist.’ Still clutching his document case he hurried in.

His secretary Anjelica Buns looked up to him as he entered. She was a small woman but very curvy. Many the days that Colin had dreamed of having her over his lap. Squirming as he took an old fashioned hairbrush to her plumptious cheeks.  But things being as they were and the law being what it was he had to settle for dominating her in more subtle ways. Being her boss had its perks in lots of ways and if his excitement was only acted out in his imagination it was a very powerful imagination and Lysette would get the benefit. If not for her!

 

He hurried over to his desk to get his security key when Anjelica Buns called out.

 

‘Colin!’

 

‘What is it? I am busy!’ he snapped back.

 

‘The Libratix wants to see you.’

 

Colin’s heart raced and his face paled. ‘Do you know what she wants?’ he asked.

 

‘Something to do with administration, she said.’

 

Colin relaxed and sighed relieved. ‘Okay he said. I’ll be back in a bit. Get me a cup of coffee ready.’

 

He hurried out the door, slipping his security key into his pocket and holding his document case tightly is his hand.

 

He knocked on the door further down the corridor from his office. His Boss. The Libratix. Lana Dane.

 

‘Enter!’

 

Colin pushed the door open and walked into his Boss’s office. IT was decorated very much n Old World Style. Wooden floors, expensive rugs and drapes, a large antique desk upon which Lana Dane leaned against.

 

She was a tall woman in very good shape. She was dressed in black and had shiny, jet black cropped hair. Her lipstick was the same shade of red as his Maidbot and Colin felt his heart race again. She was dressed in Old World style too, shiny, black leather high heeled pumps, an above the knee skirt, a crisp, pure white blouse and a black jacket. Colin couldn’t help but imagine she had stockings on under the skirt and moved his document case in front of himself.

 

‘I need to talk to you, Colin,’ she said. Her voice confident, authoritarian but as smooth as the silk of the panties he imagined she was wearing.

 

‘Yes, Ma’am,’ he replied. ‘Angle said it was something about administration?’

 

‘Indeed it is. Administration such a flexible word don’t you find?’

 

‘I guess.’ Colin shrugged. Seemed a pretty boring word to him. That was what secretaries were for after all. Administration and filing.

 

Dana Lane pushed a button on her wristcom and Colin heard the lock behind him close.

 

‘Something has come to my attention Colin.’

 

Colin felt his throat constrict, his mouth suddenly dry. ’Some filing issues,’ he asked.

 

‘No Colin. Not filing. Things that should have been kept in secure files that have been taken out.’

 

‘What do you mean?’ he stammered.

 

‘Bring that document case over here and put the contents on my desk.’

 

‘These are personal papers.’

 

‘I can get the security droids up here and alert the Moral Guardians if you prefer.’ She replied.

 

Colin felt his world slipping under his feet as he walked over to her desk.’

 

‘Please…’ he started to beg.

 

‘Do it now!’ She barked the order and Colin, with shaking hands undid the case and put the magazines on her desk.’

 

‘And what have we here?’

 

‘Err… I am not sure. I was just doing some research.’

 

‘English spanking magazines from the Nineteen seventies and eighties!’ said Lana Dane. ‘Magazines that are prohibited and a crime to be in possession of and should be kept under secure lock and key in the archives.’

 

Colin felt his face redden as much as the blush he had brought to his Maidbot’s cheeks.  ‘I can explain…’ he started to say but the Libratix held up her hand.

 

‘There is no need to explain I have been told everything.’ She picked up the magazines. Janus. Februs. Martinet. All with pictures and photos of women being spanked and caned. Some in maids outfits, some as school girls, some just naked, baring their bottoms immodestly. Lana opened one of the magazines and showed Colin the picture and if his face was red before… it was crimson now.

 

‘What are you g.g. going to do?’ he stuttered.

 

‘Like I say, Colin,’ she smiled as she put the magazine back on her desk. ‘It’s a question of administration.’

 

Colin inward sighed with relief again. If it was demotion he could live with that. He didn’t want to go to prison.

 

‘I’ll do anything!’ he said.

 

‘Oh you don’t have to do anything,’ Lana laughed.

 

‘What do you mean?’

 

‘It will me who will be giving the administration.’ She pushed her wristcom once more and the door opened and Anjelica Buns walked in, her rosy cheeks smiling and handed Dana Lane a small suitcase.

 

‘Now you have a decision to make, Colin,’ said the Libratix, ‘You can accept my rulings or you can be taken to the Morality Guardians, your choice.’

 

‘I’ll do anything you say,’ said Colin.

 

‘Good,’ replied Dana and handed him the case.

 

‘Get changed into these. I’ll be back in twenty minutes, I want you bent over the desk and ready for me.’

 

‘Yes, boss,’ he replied.

 

Dana Lane slapped him hard across the face and he reeled with shock.  ‘Get it right!’

 

‘Yes, Ma’am?’ he tried.

 

She slapped him hard again. ‘Do better!’

 

Colin spluttered, his mind in a whirl. ‘Yes, Mistress he said.’

 

Dana Lane smiled, revealing perfectly shaped, beautifully white teeth. ‘It’s going to be a long lesson for you. Come along Angelica,’ she said to Colin’s PA the boy needs to ready himself.

 

Colin heard the door close behind him and then opened the case and gasped with shock at what he saw inside. It was a nineteenth century’s maid outfit, complete with a curly dark wig, stockings and shoes. Almost identical to his Maidbot’s Lysette’s outfit.

 

 

Ten minutes later and Colin was dressed. Shoes, stockings, suspenders, the maids outfit and the wig on. He had smoothed his hands over his own now silky clad bottom and was surprised how pleasing it was and how excited it made him. He bent over the table and waited nervously. He had a guess of the kind of administration that was coming to him but he had no ideas of what manner and his heart raced nervously in anticipation of it. He didn’t have to wait long.

 

*

 

‘Remain in that position and put your bottom out!’

 

The crisp tones of Dana Lane, Libratix of the Museum of Old thing in New Las Vegas , voice was unmistakeable. There was a giggle as he raised his bottom that he could not recognise and his cheeks crimsoned once more as he realised it was not just Dana in the room. His face cheeks were crimsoned but not as much as his other cheeks were going to.

 

‘’Lift the skirt and show us your panties, Girl!’ she continued.

 

Colin’s cheeks were aflame now as he did as he was ordered.

 

‘Very pretty panties,’ said Dana. ‘So before the administration begins I think a new name for you don’t you.’

 

‘I suppose,’ said Colin shrugging confusedly and then yelped with pain as a searing pain flared across his bottom.

 

‘I beg your pardon?’

 

‘I mean yes, Mistress.’

 

‘Well Colin, I think you will be Cecily from now on. Anjelica go round and hold Cecily’s hands as she stretches them across the desk.’

Another swipe and Colin felt the same searing pain bite into each buttock.

 

‘Stretch them out!’

 

Colin quickly did as he was told, his face burning with shame as he saw Anjelica’s amused face as she took hold of his hands and held them in a surprisingly strong grip.

 

‘Now I think we want to have those panties down, don’t you Cecily?’

 

‘Yes Mistress,’ Colin gasped although he didn’t sound too happy.

 

‘In fact I think we’ll have them right off. Why don’t you have the pleasure my dear?’

 

Colin felt a cool pair of hands run over his bottom and then a giggle as the panties were lowered revealing two welts beginning to form on his pale bottom.

 

‘Now give him six each cheek with this,’ said Dana Lane.

 

Crack! Colin yelped as each stinging shot landed on his already sore buttocks.

 

‘Can you tell what the implement is?’ asked the Libratix.

 

‘A paddle?’ gasped Colin and then yelped again as a swish landed across his  flaming backside.

 

‘A paddle what?!”

 

‘A paddle, Mistress,’ Colin could barely speak and tears were beginning to form in his eyes.

 

‘Wrong! Six more each side and then three each upper thigh. And if you squirm too much, Cecily. We will start again.’

 

The spanks came down hard and fast and Colin fought hard not to squirm, Anjelica Buns held his hands tight as he wriggled and squealed.

 

‘Show him the item,’ said Dana Lane derriere as the final spank landed.

 

Colin gasped as a wooden spoon was put on the table. His own wooden spoon that he had disciplined his Maidbot with only that very morning.

 

‘That’s right, Cecily. Lysette acted like a good citizen and informed me of the items that you had taken from the archive. But more importantly items you had stolen from other departments. Lay them on the table for me please, dear.’

 

Lysette stepped around the table and Colin gasped again, his maid was now dressed in a figure hugging plasto-suit in shiny black. High heeled and with a satisfied smile on her face as she lay the antique implements on the table:  a leather boudoir paddle from London Tanners, an English riding crop and a Scottish two-tailed strap.

 

Colin swallowed hard, dreading what was to follow but relieved that there was one item missing. ‘Please…’ he began.

 

‘You do not speak until given permission so to do! Is that understood Cecily?’

 

Colin’s bottom quivered as much as his bottom lip trembled. ‘Yes, Mistress.’

 

‘Good. Well it is time to begin the proper administration. Lysette why don’t you swop places with Anjelica, and Anjelica pick an implement and begin his lesson. Eighteen hard on each side. Anjelica grinned broadly as Colin’s Maidbot grasped his hands firmly and picked up the boudoir paddle. It was heavy leather with a metal interior and she slapped it happily in her hand. Then walked around the desk.

 

‘You told me to prepare the implements…’ Lysette was about to say sir, but caught her self and smiled widely… ‘Cecily. I do hope they are to your liking.’

 

‘Crack!’

 

Colin gasped again as the searing heat flared once more in his aching rear. He had noticed that his secretary had a strong grip and felt the power as every stroke landed. One buttock to the next. Crack! Crack! Crack!

 

He had never known such agony like it he had to bite his tongue to stop crying out for mercy. But he knew such pleas would be met with more punishment. Goodness knows he had done the same to his Maidbot often enough even knowing she felt the pain every bit as much as he was now.

 

The women swopped places again and the paddle was followed by the tawse. His Maidbot giggled as every swat landed on his apple red and blistering bottom. And then Anjelica took her turn again with the English riding crop every swipe feeling like a bee sting and rising little welts on his now purpling posterior.

 

Finally the last, eighteenth swipe of the crop landed and Colin gasped with relief. He had genuinely been punished to tears and he sobbed, so very, very glad it was over.

 

Except it wasn’t.’

 

‘Well I hope you have learned your lesson Cecily?’ asked Dana Lane.

 

‘Yes please. I have. I really have.’ He begged through his tears.

 

‘Stand up, turn round and face me.’ Lysette the Maidbot released Colin’s hands and he stood up, his head giddy, his knees weak and turned round and gasped in surprise. His boss, Lana Dane, the Libratix of the Museum of Old Things New Las Vegas, had removed her jacket shirt and skirt. Her magnificent legs were sheathed in gloriously silky, black stockings. She had an old fashioned basque on in matching black with a 1940’s style conical bra and black knickers. He recognised it from the La Maitresse range from a an English company back in the twenty first century. La Maitresse being French for The Mistress of course. And for a moment he forgot the burning agony of his beaten bottom and felt his heart beating with excitement again.

 

‘Hands down, Cecily!’ barked the Libratix and Colin swiftly moved his hands to cover his immodesty. And then he saw what she was holding in her hand. The item he thought that had been missed. A very rare cane-iac, two foot long Lexan cane that he had stolen from the ancient artefacts warehouse. Made in acrylic and he knew just how much it stung. Not from first hand experience of course but on the rare times he had thrashed the beautifully wobbling bottom of his Maidbot. Had admired the beautiful welts it raised in her porcelain cheeks and took delight in her tears and yelps as every cut of the cane landed.

 

He wasn’t so pleased to see it now.

 

‘Eyes down, Cecily!’ said Dana Lane, I just got comfortable so I can swing the cane more easily. Now turn round and bend over the desk. Your hands won’t be held and you are to receive eighteen strokes. If you move position we will start again. Now get over and put your bottom in the air!’

 

Colin felt he was almost ready to faint. He bent over the desk once more and flipped up the maid’s skirt he was wearing and lifted his bottom, helped by his very high heels, a bottom that was welted and purpled and already very well sore.

 

Swish! The lexan cane landed on his proudly presently posterior and he yelped like his maid had squealed many times before, but this time the sound of his yelping brought no pleasure to him.

 

Again and again the cane swiped down on his quivering bottom. It was a baptism of fire. He had never felt such agony, never felt such humiliation as he heard his secretary and his Maidbot laugh as every swishing slash landed on his cherry red cheeks.

 

Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen! Colin’s knees quivered and shivered and he gulped in air as the tears ran down his face. He was glad he hadn’t moved. He honestly didn’t think he could face much more even if it did mean an appearance before the Moral Guardians. He knew the women would back each other and even his Maidbot’s evidence would be taken into account.

 

‘Up Cecily and go and stand in the corner!’ said Dana Lane.

 

Colin did as he was instructed.

 

‘You may rub your bottom, Cecily’ the Libratix whispered in his ear.

 

Colin thankfully did as he was allowed.

 

‘Now take this and hold it by your nose to the wall, and if it falls to the floor in the next eighteen minutes you will be caned the same again!’

 

Colin took the coin. It was as a twenty first century gambling token from old Las Vegas. He placed it and held it to the wall with his nose. Begging beyond hope it didn’t  fall.

 

As the ladies behind him chatted and laughed, and he focused on the coin, he realised that the feeling in his bottom was now a pleasant one and the whole sensation of being punished and exposed was maybe more exciting than he thought it would be. And as his thoughts dwelt on that he moved his hands forward, mindful of Miss Lana’s commands on modesty, and pressed his nose harder into the wall.

 

*

 

Colin closed his ipad, a blushing flush creeping over his cheeks as the door opened and Angel walked into the reception room.

 

‘So, Colin. I gather you like my bottom?’ she said.

 

Colin’s blush deepened. Angel was a curvy figured, young woman, with blonde hair, cornflower blue eyes, as American as apple pie and with a derriere he could only dream of laying his hand upon.

 

‘’Well I…’ Colin stammered.

 

‘Never mind,’ Angel interrupted. ‘Miss Dana Kane liked your story and she will see you now.’

 

Angel gestured to the door with a knowing smile. ‘Sometimes It’s best to be careful for what you wish for!’ she said.

 

Colin walked to the door nervously as Angel chuckled holding the paddle, unseen by him, behind her back.

‘Future Spank’ Story Contest Winner!

‘Future Spank’ Story Contest Winner! 5.00/5 (100.00%) 3 votes

 

Readers,

Well! I have to say that I’m surprised at the number of entries that the Future Spank story contest garnered, each of them very well-written and imaginative. This was, even more than usual, a difficult choice. Thanks to everyone who entered their original work, and please do take a moment to comment on the stories so that our authors know you’ve enjoyed them.

-  Dana

 

And the winner is….

 

 

Jake Sees the Light

It was the light Jake noticed first. Walking up the gangplank and into the belly of an enormous metallic vessel filled with a myriad of wonders never before viewed by a human eye, it was the brightness of the light he noticed most. How long had it been since he had seen electric light? Twelve years? Fifteen? Somewhere between the first strike and the rapid depletion of the fossil fuels that followed, electricity had gone from common…to privileged… to extinct.

The entrance ramp continued upwards towards an open corridor where two Clairian women awaited him. They both wore one-piece uniforms, white and sleek. Snug enough to accentuate the fitness of the bodies beneath yet without losing the formality of militia. Guards he suspected, or perhaps some type of ship security force. They greeted him by name without offering their own.

“Welcome to Clairian Forces Resolution Craft Number Seven Mr. Karnes. Captain Erica has been expecting you. Right this way please”.

The two women escorted him down a series of further corridors, each one as bright and sterile as the next. The final hallway ended in front of a door much larger and much more ornate than any they had previously passed. Jake made the assumption this was their destination. Such grandeur clearly marked a place of importance.  A captain’s chambers.

He awaited their next move, expecting one of them to knock on the doors or verbally announce arrival. Both women stood motionless. After a brief silence Jake realized they were both looking towards him. His eyes met the gaze of both women. Neither of them spoke or offered any visual clue as to why they had stopped moving. After a moment the guard to his left gave her partner a knowing smile and the shrug of her shoulders. She reached forward and drew open the doors ushering all of them into the awaiting room.

The room was a contrast to everything Jake had witnessed on the ship thus far. This room was alive in color and texture. It was more reminiscent of an apartment than a space craft. The floors were covered in what appeared to be rubber-like tiles. Even through his shoes, Jake could feel the comfort of the material. There was furniture and appliances and all the trimmings of a living space. Photos and art hung stylishly on walls finished in warm hues of browns and blues.

The captain of the ship was sitting at a workstation. Her attire was similar to the guards, however hers appeared to be two-piece, black pants and a white top with the insignia of the ship on a crest just to the left of the neckline. She was older than the guards, heavier in stature, what Jake’s father would have referred to as big boned. Still her curves and femininity were clearly evident. She was viewing a monitor that was anchored to the desk. Her eyes briefly acknowledged their entry, and then just as quickly returned to the screen. Through a headset she spoke in a language Jake had never heard. After a brief dialogue into the device, she motioned one of the guards to approach. The guard stepped forward offering salute. The captain rose and nodded in response.

“Captain Erica. This is the man we were instructed to escort to your presence.”

Jake took a step towards the desk and offered his hand. “Good morning Erica. I’m Jake Kar…”

Captain Erica cut his words short, interrupting him mid-sentence.

“One moment Mr. Karnes. I am not yet done speaking with my team.” She extended a single finger that motioned for his silence, and returned her attention to the guards. “Thank you both for seeing our guest here. Is there anything else?”

Jake was more than flustered by the manner the woman had treated him. He was certainly not accustomed to being spoken down to; especially in the presence of what were clearly a couple of subordinate staff members. He could feel a twinge of resentment and the heat of a blush come to his face. He fought to remind himself of the importance of the meeting and hoped none of the women saw his discomfort. If they had, they certainly didn’t show any reaction to it.

The guard who had opened the door stepped forward. Once again in a dialect foreign to Jake (what he now assumed their native tongue) she spoke a few sentences to her captain. The captain was momentarily stoic. She glanced intently in Jake’s direction before uttering a response directed to the younger women. Both guards smiled, nodded and with a final salute were gone.

Jake once again made to speak. And once again was treated to the flat palm of the ship’s captain.

“One more moment please Mr. Karnes. We are about to begin the decontamination of the surface. I need to finalize procedure co-ordinates with my engineering department. You may make yourself comfortable in the sitting area”

She motioned Jake towards a small table and chairs deeper in the cabin and without further discussion returned to her seat behind the monitor.

Jake felt his face grow even warmer. Go ahead lady. Get your radiation vacuums sucking. Then we can sit down and we’ll get a few things straight about protocol and political respect. He made his way to the table area. Perhaps the curiosity in what he found there might help to sedate his irate state of mind.

The table was wood, kind of…and maybe a plastic too. It was a material he had never encountered before. The majority of the furnishings were constructed of the same type of hybrid median. The vibrant artwork was done on what looked like a type of frameless cloth. Along the wall was a stone fireplace were a blue flame burned with no apparent source of fuel. All of it was mysterious and just as equally fascinating. Perhaps most fascinating was the item lying on the mantle above the hearth.

Sitting alone on the warm stone was what looked like an antique implement of some sort. What it was he wasn’t quite sure. Perhaps twelve inches in length, and three wide, with the exception of what looked like a narrower handle area on one end, it resembled a cross between a cooking device and perhaps a sporting racket. Whatever it was, it certainly showed plenty of wear. It looked like real wood…and it looked old.

He was startled out of his trance by the voice from behind him. “It’s called Living Wood. It’s considered sacred on my planet. You will learn more about it I’m sure Mr. Karnes. Your kind is always enthralled with that item. Welcome to my vessel.”

Jake shook the hand she was offering. Her grip was warm and firm.

“My kind Erica? My understanding was that I am the first human to board the ship?”

“I was not referring to your race. I was referring to your gender.” She replied with a smile. “And you have referred to me as Erica twice now Mr Karnes.  I am the captain of an interstellar spacecraft here to try to make your planet more inhabitable.  You will address me as Captain Erica or Ma’am. Sit please.”

There was that condescending tone in her voice again. It was time for him to nip this in the bud. He took a seat at the table across from her. Back straight and shoulders square, he folded his hands neatly in front of himself and spoke in a firm voice that reflected the confidence of his body language. “Very well…Captain Erica…on that note, perhaps we can begin with setting some mutual expectations.”

“Indeed Mr. Karnes. Do you know why we, why I, summoned you to this meeting today?”

“I would have to assume it is because of my experience with diplomatic affairs. I expect that I would serve to act as a liaison between our two peoples.”

“Partly correct Mr. Karnes. You were chosen because of all the profiles available to us, on what passes for leadership on this planet, yours showed the greatest potential to communicate our mandate to your fellow humans.”

“Mandate? My understanding is your mandate was quite clear. Your ships have the capacities to remove radioactive waste from our planet’s atmosphere and surface.”

“Again, only partly correct.” She smiled once more. “Tell me Mr. Karnes, you received a file along with your invitation to enter this ship. Have you read it fully?”

And once again Jake was back on the defensive. “No, not in its entirety. I must admit my policy with written material is that most often any pertinent information comes to light during verbal discussions. You must understand that with all the activity arising from your impending visit, my agenda was beyond full these past few days….”

His feeble reply brought her smile to the point of being a chuckle. “And I Mr. Karnes, do not have much time to devote to incompetence. I do however believe I will be able to expedite to you the purpose of our time together here today. Can I ask you to please bring me that paddle you are so intrigued by.”

The last part of her statement was not so much a request as it was a command. Jake wasn’t totally comfortable with that. But he was also mentally backpedaling about his neglect to read the documents.  He humored her and retrieved the wooden piece. What had she called it? A paddle? As he retrieved it, Captain Erica pushed her chair away from the table.

“No, not on that side. Bring it here to me. Come stand by my side.”

Jake was quickly losing any control of the debate. Her authoritative manner had him acting like a schoolboy rather than seasoned diplomat. He awkwardly followed her command and after handing her the paddle, remained standing in front of her chair.

“Good boy. Now lower your pants and under garments and place yourself across my knee.”

“Wha…” Jake was flabbergasted, understanding now the purpose of the implement and her intended use of it. “Erica, I am a representative of the United World on a serious mission. I assure you that I have no intentions of…”

This time it was a hard slap across his face that interrupted his sentence. He held his hand to his stinging cheek in disbelief and looked into the face of the woman seated calmly before him. Her eyes were locked to his.

“What you are is an egotistical little man who was given a simple task. An assignment I dare say that his arrogance prevented him from doing properly. Had you done your prescribed work, this conversation would be going much more productively for both of us. Had you read your briefing file you would have understood that the moment you entered this ship you became subject to Clarian laws. I am the captain of this vessel Mr Karnes. I therefore am the law. Your fate has been determined. You have two simple choices that surly even a being as pig headed as yourself can understand. You can do as I instruct willingly or I can summon my guards and they will do it forcefully. I care not either way…but my will shall be done. Now remove your clothing and get over my knee.”

Her words stunned Jake much deeper than the slap to the face had. Numbed by the force of her statements, he doubted he could have spoke even had he wanted to. He did not speak. He cast his eyes to the floor as trembling fingers slowly unbuckled and peeled down the lower potions of his clothing. He gave no resistance as she guided him across her awaiting lap.

“A very wise choice I assure you. Now let’s get down to work shall we?”

In a well practiced manner, the Captain adjusted his position to best suit her purpose. He had given himself to her…exactly as she knew he would. Men were the most predictable of beings. Big and brave at the onset, he was now putty in her hands to do with as she pleased. And she certainly intended to make sure he completely understood who was in command. She griped him around the waist with her left hand as she whisked his pants and underwear to his ankles with the right. Content with her preparations, she picked the paddle up and laid two swift and firm strokes to the center of his buttocks.

“Do I have your complete attention now Mr. Karnes?”

“Yes Ma’am”

She smiled. This was going to go well indeed. She laid on four more spanks to the same area of his behind.  “Very good answer. Had you read your files, you would have understood that no male is permitted to address any Clarion female without using her proper title. Mine, as I told you, is Captain Erica or Ma’am. Failure to use either when speaking to me will earn you demerits. Furthermore you will speak to me only when spoken to. Is this understood?”

She accentuated the question with more spanks.

“Ouch, ouch…yes Ma’am.”

“Very good. Now Mr. Karnes I intend to give you a very sound spanking. But first, for your benefit, I will give a brief history on Clarion culture. Ours is a very ancient race. We have travelled space for longer than your earth has known life. We have visited and studied countless planets. Do you know what our travels gave us Mr. Karnes?”

She waited briefly for a reply. When it did not come she applied two sharp blows.

“Ouch, ow. No Ma’am”

“Perhaps you are not as quick a study as I thought. What we learned was that unlike your human’s colorful interpretations of little green men from Mars, most life forms in the galaxies are actually humanoid. The other thing we ascertained was that almost seventy percent of worlds hosting life were ruled predominantly by the male of the species. The male…imagine Mr. Karnes. We also determined that almost one-hundred percent of those male dominated societies had a habit of ending in ruins. Are you still following me?”

“Yes Ma’am.” He was quick to answer. She smiled again.

“It seems that when men were left to rule, their foolish nature showed the way to war and poverty that eventually resulted in situations similar to what you have here on this planet. In contrast, the female lead planets thrive and excel by comparison. The gist of it Mr. Karnes is that the people of Clarion, men and women alike, came to the conclusion that entrusting leadership to the female gender would ensure the optimum  development of our planet. And so it has. Again forgive me for the brevity of my history lesson. The report you were given holds a much more detailed outlining of the events that brought us to where we are as a people today. I am sure you are going to be eager to read it at your earliest convenience…aren’t you?”

This time the question was immediately followed with a dozen very hard swats to his rear.

“Yes Ma’am, ow, please, yes Ma’am”

“What we have developed is a society where men pledge their obedience and respect to their mates and are expected to live up that promise. When they fail Mr. Karnes, they find themselves in the exact position you now find yourself in.”

With that she fell silent. She temporally sat down the paddle as she allowed for the measure of her words to sink in and for the anticipation to build in his mind.  She understood the importance of that anticipation to the male psyche. She permitted herself an opportunity to caress and explore the bottom aimed so vulnerably ready for her ministrations with the paddle. She had tanned many a naughty male behinds and she had full intention to blister this one very well. When she felt him begin to shift with tension across her lap, she picked the paddle up once more.

“Do not attempt to get up. Try to keep your hands and feet on the floor. Minor pleading is acceptable. If it becomes excessive you will be given more demerits.”

And without further adieu the Captain got to the task at hand. She spanked him. She began on his upper cheeks, first one side then the other working a consistent pattern until she reached the crease where butt met thigh. After a couple blows to the tops of his legs, her paddle would then make the return journey, this time from bottom to top…only to begin the entire process again. Over and over, back and forth, back and forth, up and down, up and down. Despite Jakes continual stream of “ouches” and “ows” she calmly and consistently delivered a good hundred strokes to his bucking and twisting behind before pausing.

“Yes Mr. Karnes, it hurts doesn’t it?”

The two strokes he received for once more failing to answer were hard enough to bring him to the edge of tears.

“Oh, yes Ma’am”

“We call it Living Wood because it almost physically bonds with the person holding it Mr. Karnes. The mood and the emotion of that person become reflected in the wood itself. It’s amazing really. It is like the paddle senses the intentions of the woman wielding it and adjusts its weight and force to best achieve the woman’s desired effect. For instance a woman can put the same amount of force into two different spankings, but if she is angry, the spanking delivered while angry is applied much more severely by the paddle. Simply amazing. Perhaps I should demonstrate. Let me think about the way your arrogance angers me.”

With that she resumed the paddling and Jake instantly felt the difference in the blows. The paddle was snapping into him with considerably more force. Enough to bring tears to his eyes…and quiet sobs to his throat. The spanking was no longer coming with any discernible pattern. Sometimes it would be back and forth, back and forth, and then she would land several times all on one cheek or even on one spot. Jake was struggling to keep his position. He felt like he was on fire. He was pleading now, begging for her to stop the relentless assault on his posterior. She was speaking again. She didn’t stop spanking but did slow in pace with the majority of the strokes landing intentionally near the crease of his tender sit spot.

“Your inexperience with being disciplined prevents your noticing (spank), but the Living Wood is also reacting with you (spank). Had I been using any other type of wood (spank) your bottom would have long since become somewhat numb, thus lessening the effect of each blow (spank). The Living Wood prevents that (spank), reducing any dulling of the spanking what so ever. The result (spank), is that every stroke hurts (spank) just (spank) as much (spank) as the (spank) one (spank) before (spank) (spank) (spank).”

The last sentence came with a flurry of paddling that broke all remnants of Jakes resolve. With a great sobbing heave, he slumped like a ragdoll across her lap and cried freely without reservation.

‘I’m sorry Ma’am. Please Captain Erica, I’m sorry…I’ll be good.”

The Captain continued with another dozen resounding spanks before ceasing again.

“There, there. That’s a good boy.”

And she meant it. He had taken his punishment well, without excessive fussing and was clearly contrite and remorseful as he sobbed quietly across her knee. His bottom was radiating with a deep shade of red. The part he sat on displayed purplish bruising and a few small blisters. He would remember this session each time he sat for at least a week. And that was the point after all. To learn. To repent. To behave.

As she slowly rubbed the paddle across the surface of his inflamed behind, Jake began to react in a much different fashion. His sobbing melded into a low moan.

“What you are feeling now Mr. Karnes is another attribute of the Living Wood. Just as it can reflect anger and frustration, it can also reflect compassion and caring. In the hands of an understanding and loving woman it can also deliver much pleasure to a bottom. I can assure you both men and women can come to appreciate this.”

She abruptly removed the paddle from his behind. She did respect him for the way he had accepted her discipline. It was out of that respect that she knew she must make sure his spanking was memorable enough to improve his behaviour moving forward.

“However your pleasure is not the purpose at hand. I believe you have leaned a good lesson thus far. A lesson that will benefit us both. Now I must ensure that lesson is remembered for a good time to come. And then unfortunately we have your demerits to account for”

She methodically went back to her original pattern of paddling, back and forth and up and down, encompassing his entire crimsoned behind. Jake resigned himself to taking the spanking with as little resistance as possible. Sensing her intention, and his repentance, the paddle fell just hard enough to drive the point home.

When finally she felt he had been spanked enough, she released her grip on his waist and instructed him to stand and bend over the back of the chair. He compiled without question, not eager to reignite her wrath. He doubted he would ever be able to defy the Clarion captain again. Her wish would be his command. Perhaps there was certain rightness about that.

For her part, Captain Erica was pleased. She knew he would be very attentive to her needs moving forward. She would give him an hour to read the report, and then instruct him to contact the wife of each member of Earth’s Leadership Council. She would start with them. The ship’s cargo hold contained enough Living Wood paddles for every woman on earth.

She went back to her work station and returned with a slender cane. As she flexed it in her hands she instructed Jake on what would constitute the completion of his punishment.

“Had you read our report, your session would be over now. In a few minutes, when we are finished with your lesson, you will read it. You will find a complete list of infractions that will warrant you demerits. You have earned several today. Each demerit is punishable with three strokes from the cane. You will receive three for failure to open a door for a woman, and another nine for not addressing me by my proper title on three separate occasions. Place your hands flatly on the seat of the chair. If you remove them before you are given permission, your punishment will begin anew and an additional three strokes will be added on. Do you understand?”

“Yes Ma’am, Captain Erica.”

“Very nice Mr. Karnes. Do you have any other questions before I begin?”

“Ma’am, is the cane made from Living Wood also?”

Captain Erica chuckled and took her position behind him. Tapping the cane on the lower portion of his bottom she replied “No, it’s just plain old rattan. Some things of your earth need no improvement.”

She pulled back her arm to continue Jake’s lesson…..

End

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

New eBook! Mostly True Stories : Adventures in Discipline

New eBook! Mostly True Stories : Adventures in Discipline 4.89/5 (97.78%) 9 votes

 

Readers,

After some consideration as to heft, I’ve decided to publish ‘Mostly True Stories’ for eReader formats. This first volume contains a few slightly altered yet very real-life short stories from my exploits as a gleeful spanker of adult boys and girls.

 

Dana Kane MostlyTrueStoriesCover 862x1024

 

The first, ‘Mostly True Stories : Adventures in Discipline’ is now available. Containing four previously unpublished short stories:

I Wasn’t Expecting That

All in the Name of Science

What Were You Thinking?

A Wife’s Frustration

Available both through Smashwords HERE and Amazon/Kindle HERE.

Around 9 thousand words, and priced at $2.99, this small edition of short stories is my first foray into storytelling. If it’s well-received, I’ll expand the concept to either a lengthier version or several volumes. 

As always, I’m interested in your feedback. Leave comments below or email me at danakanespanks@gmail.com.

 

-  Dana

 

New Spanking Story Contest : Future Spank

New Spanking Story Contest : Future Spank 4.00/5 (80.00%) 2 votes

 

Readers,

In celebration of the new year and all the ones to come, the theme for this month’s spanking story writing contest is..

The Future

Dana Kane

No, not like next month, smartass. Think a bit farther ahead. Think flying cars or living on Mars or robots that are programmed to dole out spankings; think about what the world will be in the distant future, and then figure out how to tell a good spanking story within it.

Dana Kane michael murdock1

We see and read a whole bunch of ‘olde tyme’ spanking stories and ‘best of the 50′s’ stuff – let’s see what you can do without the concepts of current tradition.

I’ve come to rely on the creativity and veracity of these writing contest entrants for their abilities to weave an amazingly believable spanking story out of just about any situation they’re given, so I’ll be very interested to see what our intrepid authors come up with for this one.

Dana Kane

As always, the winner – chosen solely by me and based on no specific criteria – will receive as his or her prize a free spanking session with me, either here in Las Vegas or any of the other cities to which I regularly travel.

 

And also as always, a few things to remember before you start writing:

 

  • Absolutely no characters or mention of characters under the age of 18. The occasional ‘like a little boy’ is acceptable, but best to keep it to a minimum.
  • Same goes for explicit genital, sexual, or graphic language references. This is about the backside, not the front side – keep it clean, please.
  • Characters may be of any gender, and spankings may be of any genre – feel free to include as many or few characters as you like.
  • Entries are not judged on length, but attention to spelling, grammar, capitalization, and the et cetera, certainly matters.
  • Contest ends January 31, 2014.
  • By entering your story to the contest, you agree to allow me to share/excerpt it here and elsewhere.
  • All entries may be emailed to me, either in the body of the email or as an attachment, at danakanespanks@gmail.com.

Now, get writing – and good luck!

 

-  Dana

A fun holiday spanking story from The VBB

A fun holiday spanking story from The VBB 4.86/5 (97.14%) 7 votes

 

Readers,

Here’s a fun holiday story written by our very own VBB – he assures me that this is completely a work of fiction. Ahem, I’ll let you decide…

-  Dana

 

The Thanksgiving Day Football Game

It all started with a short email, which popped up on my screen during one of my “wasting time” web surfing periods. As I lazily read the subject line of the email, I became excited and quickly sat up. My favorite college team sent me an email offering the opportunity to buy tickets to the Thanksgiving Day game! I could not believe it; I finally had a chance to watch my team play against a school rival. The more I read the email the more excited I became, which ultimately lead to an impulsive decision. I decided that not only did I need to attend the game but I also needed to buy the tickets right then and there. It was simple logic, if I wait to buy the tickets they may be sold out and I would miss going to the game. All I could think of was how disappointed I would be if I missed the game. As I pulled out my wallet something told me I better talk with Ann about this, but she was busy in the kitchen cooking dinner and I did not want to bother her with such a trivial matter as going to a football game on Thanksgiving Day. As I entered my credit card number I stopped and thought to myself maybe I should talk with Ann about this. But I was sure the tickets were being grabbed up as I was thinking and there was probably just a few tickets left so I better act now or it would be too late. What’s the worse that could happen? I mean it’s just a football game played on Thanksgiving I’m sure Ann would understand. So I pushed the button and I became the proud owner of College football tickets! I did feel a bit guilty for not talking to Ann about the tickets but I had plenty of time to tell her, Thanksgiving was still two months away. About a month later Ann began making plans for Thanksgiving. We had not really made any definite plans so I was not concerned about telling her about the tickets just yet. As the days went by I thought I should tell her about the tickets, but you know how things go, people get busy, work late, procrastinate and just plain forget. It was now the week of Thanksgiving, plans were made, friends were invited and everything was set in place. Except, I still had not told Ann about the tickets. There really was no reason to worry, Ann planned on eating around 1:00 and the game did not start until 7:30 so everything was going to work out just fine, or so I thought.
            A few days before Thanksgiving I decided it was time to tell Ann about the tickets.  As we sat down for dinner I poured her, her favorite glass of Cabernet Sauvignon, I put on some smooth jazz music and we set down for a nice quite dinner. The meal was suburb, the atmosphere was just perfect and everything was going perfectly. As we finished dinner and enjoyed a bit of dessert and cappuccinos I finally gathered up my courage. “Umm Ann, I have something I need to tell you. Umm a really great opportunity come up a while ago, I got an email offering me an opportunity to buy some tickets for the Thanksgiving Day college football game. I know I should have discussed it with you first, but Umm you were busy and I did not want to disturb you. Plus I’m sure the tickets were going fast so I had to act right away. So I went ahead and bought two tickets to the game, I asked Conrad if he would go with me. Its not going to affect Thanksgiving because the game is not until 7:30 and we will have plenty of time to celebrate Thanksgiving during the day.
Ann sat there looking at me, I could not tell by her look if she was angry or not, after a few minutes she said “Well, I guess it is ok for you to go to the game especially since you already have the tickets.” With that, she stood up and started clearing the table. I thought to myself “see there was nothing to worry about, she does not even care that we are going to the game. All that worry was for nothing.” I helped clear the table and helped with the dishes. Nothing else was said about the tickets and I considered the matter over. The next few days were busy as we prepared for Thanksgiving, the menu was planned, groceries were bought, the good china was cleaned, the silverware was polished and the nice tablecloth was brought out. I reminded Ann that Conrad and I were going to the game and we planned on leaving around 5:00. Ann simply responded with “Yes dear I remember.”
            Thanksgiving day finally arrived, we woke up early and starting cooking, around 11:00 our friends and family started arriving. Everything was going great, dinner was about ready, our guest had arrived and everything was going smoothly. As Ann was setting the table I come up behind her and gave her a hug reaching around her I whispered, “Ann, you are the greatest, everything seems perfect, you have really out done yourself this year. Thanks for being so understanding about the game this evening; I have always wanted to see these two teams play. You are the best” Ann turned around and gave me a small kiss and said “I know you are excited about the game, I’m sure it will be a game that you will remember for a very long time.”  She gave me a wink and walked away. I wondered what she meant by that, but I did not give it another thought.
Dinner was fantastic, the company was great and everyone had a wonderful time talking and laughing. The afternoon went by quickly by 3:30 all our guest had left which I though was a bit strange as Ann liked to socialized well into the evening. Around 4:00 I noticed Ann had disappeared, I was not overly concerned as Conrad was coming over at 5:00 so we could go to the game. I was so excited and could hardly wait. I walked up the stairs and headed to the bedroom so I could get ready for the game. The bedroom door was closed and as I reached out to open the door I noticed it was locked. I found that strange, as the bedroom door is never locked. I gently knocked on the door and after a few moments Ann answered the door dressed in her short black dress the one she only wears when she was going to discipline me.  As she opened the door she pointed to the corner and said, “Go ahead and get undressed and stand in the corner.” I protested and said “Ann you know I have to get ready for the game tonight, what’s this all about anyway?” she looked at me and said “you did not think you were going to get away with buying tickets to the game without telling me do you? You really thought going to a football game on Thanksgiving without talking to me first was a good idea? Now get in the corner, we only have an hour to deal with your selfish behavior.”
                                                                                          
            After 10 minutes in the corner Ann told me to turn around. I noticed lying on the bed was the wooden hairbrush that her mother gave her on our wedding day. Along with the wooden spencer paddle she uses when she really wants to get her point across. “Come over her David” as I walked over to the bed where she was sitting she patted her leg indicating she wanted me to lay across her leg. She liked to have me lay across her right leg as she uses her left leg to lock me in place. This also gave her the ability to control my legs, when she wants my legs to be further apart she just uses her left foot to spread my legs further apart. As I laid across her leg she started to rub my bum, “so you thought you could get away with this little trick of yours, buying football tickets without telling me. Waiting till the last minute to tell me that you were going to the game. Ruining our Thanksgiving plans and not taking my feelings into considerations, you did not even ask me if I wanted to go to the game with you.” I started to answer her, but she slapped me on my bottom and said, “I think you just better keep your mouth shut and take your punishment.”
            She picked up her well warn wooden hairbrush and brought it down full force on my right butt cheek. I protested and said, “Aren’t you even going to give me a warm up first?” Her only reply was to give me a few fast whacks on my leg just below my bum. That’s her spot she spanks when she does not like my response, attitude or when I clinch my cheeks. She usually gives me five quick whacks on the same spot to get my attention. Ann knows the first ten minutes of a spanking hurts the worse for me, so she makes it a habit to spank a fresh spot every few minutes that way my bum never gets a chance to get numb. The initial hair brushing stings the worse and if there is anything I dislike the most it is a stinging spankings. Ann continued to move the hairbrush to fresh areas causing the stinging pain to be spread across the whole bum. When she ran out of fresh areas to spank she started on the thighs, which brought a whole new level of pain and stinging. The thighs are more sensitive than my bum and so it takes less to really make the spanking painful and stinging. As my bum quickly turned a light pink to a darker red Ann lifted the hairbrush high and brought it down with more force. As I lay across her leg I closed my eyes tight and tried to clinch my teeth as to some how lessen the pain. But the harder I tried the harder she spanked. Her whole goal was to get me to the point where I finally stopped fighting the spanking and just simply give into my punishment.  I finally went limp and let Ann spank me without fighting her. “Awe now we can get down to business, go ahead and stand up”she said. As I stood up she picked up the wooden spencer paddle and pointed to the bed, “get on your hands and knees.”
As I got into position she asked me how much the tickets cost. I knew I did not want to answer that question so I stammered a bit and tried to avoid the question. She lifted the paddle and give it a high forceful swing hitting me square on the bottom. It caught me by surprise and I yelled out, which only caused her to hit me again as she said “don’t yell! You know I don’t like it when you yell like that, now tell me how much were the tickets!” I stammered some more “I umm they were, you see they were really a great deal” She lifted the paddle again and landed another hard stinging blow to my bum. I clichéd me teeth and tried my best to keep from crying out. “How much were the tickets, David! I’m not going to ask again.” With that she started in with quick shots to my upper legs increasing the force of the spanking until I cried out “$100 dollars” You spent $100 for these tickets?” I thought for a moment, “I’d just tell her yes I spent $100 on the tickets.” But then I thought better and answered no they were $100 a piece. “You spent $200 on tickets and never thought that you should ask me about it first, I guess you just though an extra $200 would just magically appear in the Bank. Did you even look at the budget before you bought the tickets?” I meekly answered,  “No Ma’am I just figured I would charge it on the credit card and everything would be just fine.” Well, I guess you made a big mistake didn’t you. Looks like you are in for 200 swats plus another 25 for the interest. Now get ready because these are going to be hard and fast.” With that, she started spanking me with the spencer paddle, as she lifted and landed the paddle over and over again on my bum the pain continued to increase. Because they were so fast the pain never really had a chance to go through its full cycle. By the time she stopped at fifty my bum was on fire, the pain cycle was still going through it process and it felt as though it would never reach its climax. Before the pain finished it course Ann started in on another 50. As she started to paddle me again I cried out loud, I could no longer keep my cries to myself. I started to move around a bit trying to control where the paddle lands. This only led to another five painful swats to my upper legs as Ann said, “hold still” As the second set of fifty came to an end, Ann stopped for a minute to allow the pain to catch up before starting again. At this point my bum felt like it was completely one fire, there was not a single inch that did not radiate a burning sensation. As she continued to paddle me I thought to myself “I never should have bought those tickets without asking Ann first”. When she finished with the 150th swat I started begging her to stop, “I promise I will not buy football tickets without asking you first” “I’m sure you wont” she replied. Now hold still we are almost done. By the time she reached 200 I was spent, I had reached my limit, my bum was fully worn out but I still had 25 more to go. She said “these last 25 are going to be slow and hard to help you remember that I don’t like it when you keep secrets from me.” As she raised the paddle she brought it down on my upper legs just below my bum. This caused a whole new level of pain, as the area was still relatively fresh. She landed all 25 swats on the same spot. The pain seemed unbearable as she let each swat go through it complete pain cycle before landing another one. The spanking was so intense that I could no longer wiggle, fight or protest. As she spanked me I had no choice but to fully give into the spanking.
Ann finally stopped; she looked at me and said “You will never again buy something like this without talking to me first, do you understand me?” I looked into her eyes and answered, “Yes Ma’am I will make sure I always talk with you first before I buy any tickets.” “Good I’m glad you understand.” As she walked away I fell on the bed and lay there trying to find some relief from the pain. But there was no relief and I knew I was in for a long painful evening. I knew that throughout the night I would experience wave of stinging pain as I moved about in my seat. I was no longer looking forward to going to the game as much as I had before the spanking