Jun 012012

‘Well, if you think that’s embarrassing’ is a fun spanking entry to the ‘Person, Place, and Thing’  Spring Break writing contest. Poor Andrew…
– Dana

  Well, if you think that’s embarrassing. 

Andrew and Heather had met at freshmen orientation and had been dating ever since. Heather was a sweet and lovely girl, slightly plump with large comforting breasts and a big-ish but well shaped bottom. She had long flowing blond hair and an adorable face that was almost always smiling. Andrew was very attracted to her and the sex was great. But Heather had a real knack for embarrassing him. She called him “poopsikins” and “silly buns” in front of his friends. Naturally, this resulted in Andrew getting endless teasing from his buddies. To make matters worse, Heather had informed Andrew that he would not be going to Fort Lauderdale with his friends. Instead, they would spend a romantic spring break together at nice little bread and breakfast. As Andrew sat driving in his 1960 Ford Galaxie, a beautiful convertible his father had given him when he when off to college, he thought back to his last night with his mates before spring break. “Dude, you are so whipped. While you’re stuck with the ball and chain were gona get shit faced and score some serious poontang,” Andrew remember them saying. Just then Andrew felt Heather gently stroke his thigh. He turned his head and looked at Heather. She was smiling and her long blond hair was blowing in the wind. “What’s on your mind, cutie pie?” Heather asked. “Um, nothing” Andrew replied. 

Heather: “Slow down, sweetie, I see the B and B.”

                Andrew: “OK, fine” (muttering)

Andrew parked the convertible, Heather grabbed Andrew’s hand and they walked together into the bed and breakfast. At the front desk of the bed and breakfast, there stood a beautifully woman with short dark hair. She was wearing a low cut blouse that showed off her lovely cleavage.  Just inside the door to the B and B, Andrew let go of Heathers hand and began watching a baseball game on his I-phone. Heather walked up to the desk. “Hi, my name Heather, and that cutesypoo over by the door is my boyfriend Andrew,” Heather said proudly. “Hi there, my name is Dana, and I’m so glad you decided to stay with us. You make such a lovely couple.”  Dana replied. 

Heather: “thanks!” 

Heather (looking at Andrew): “Come on hunny bunny, get your cute little caboose over here and say hi to the nice lady.”  

Andrew reluctantly walked to the desk. 

Andrew: “Hay, what’s up? (muttering)”

Dana: “Nice to meet you Andrew.”

Heather: “So Dana, do you know what I like do to cute little buns? I like to ssshhhhmack ummm!”

(Heather gives Andrew a playful smack on his bottom)

Andrew: “Stop it. This is embarrassing.”

Heather:  “Is it? (Heather gives Andrew another smack on his bottom) Well, sweetie, you better get used to it because I LIKE to embarrass you. And if you think getting smacked on the bottom is embarrassing just wait until I SPANK your BARE BOTTOM in front of my new friend!” 

Andrew: “What!?”

Heather: “You heard what I said, now change into your birthday suit this instant.”
(Andrew hesitated only for a second. He never could say no to Heather. Andrew obediently removed all his clothes.)

Dana: “Aw, doesn’t he just have the cutest little cup cakes.”

Heather: “O I know, and now for some red frosting!”

(Heather and Dana both laugh.)

Heather (sitting down on a nearby chair): “Get your bottom over my knee.”

(Andrew did as he was told.)



(Despite how sweet she was, Heather had no problem giving a hard spanking. Andrew’s little bottom was now bright red.)

Dana: “That looks like fun.”

Heather: “Want to give it a try?”

Dana: “Sure”

Heather: “Do you need any instructions?” 

Dana “No, I think I can handle it (winks).”

Heather: “OK sweet heart, I want you to go over to Dana and very nicely ask her to please spank your bare bottom.”

Andrew: “Dana, would you please spank my bare bottom.” 

Dana: “Sure hunny, you know what to do.”

(Andrew positioned his bottom over Dana’s knees.)

Dana: “You know Andrew, you are very lucky to have an affectionate girlfriend that cares enough about you to spank you.”

Andrew: “Yes, I know.” 

Dana “Now after each spank, I want you to repeat ‘Heather can smack my bottom any time she wants. Heather can spank my bottom any time she wants.’”

Andrew: “Yes, ma’am.”  

SMACK! “Heather can smack my bottom any time she wants! Heather can spank my bottom any time she wants!”SMACK! “Heather can smack my bottom any time she wants! Heather can spank my bottom any time she wants!”SMACK! “Heather can smack my bottom any time she wants! Heather can spank my bottom any time she wants!”SMACK! “Heather can smack my bottom any time she wants! Heather can spank my bottom any time she wants!”SMACK! “Heather can smack my bottom any time she wants! Heather can spank my bottom any time she wants!”SMACK! “Heather can smack my bottom any time she wants! Heather can spank my bottom any time she wants!”SMACK! “Heather can smack my bottom any time she wants! Heather can spank my bottom any time she wants!”SMACK! “Heather can smack my bottom any time she wants! Heather can spank my bottom any time she wants!”SMACK! “Heather can smack my bottom any time she wants! Heather can spank my bottom any time she wants!”SMACK! “Heather can smack my bottom any time she wants! Heather can spank my bottom any time she wants!”SMACK! “Heather can smack my bottom any time she wants! Heather can spank my bottom any time she wants!”SMACK! “Heather can smack my bottom any time she wants! Heather can spank my bottom any time she wants!”SMACK! “Heather can smack my bottom any time she wants! Heather can spank my bottom any time she wants!”SMACK! “Heather can smack my bottom any time she wants! Heather can spank my bottom any time she wants!”SMACK! “Heather can smack my bottom any time she wants! Heather can spank my bottom any time she wants!”SMACK! “Heather can smack my bottom any time she wants! Heather can spank my bottom any time she wants!”

Dana: “Now go over to Heather, apologize and thank her for spanking your bare bottom.” 

Andrew: “I’m sorry for being a brat. Thank you for spanking my bare bottom. I know I deserved it.”

Heather: “Aaaaaawwww (Heather gently rubs Andrew’s red bottom.)”

Heather: “Now thank Dana for spanking you.”

Andrew: “Thank you Dana for spanking my bare bottom. I know I deserved it.”

Dana: “Anytime sweetie.”

(Dana rubs Andrew’s left cheek while Heather rubs his right cheek.)

Heather: “Now go stand in the corner. I want your witle red tushy on display while Dana and I get to know each other.”

(Heather gives Andrew a playful smack on the bottom)

Andrew: “Thank you for smacking my bottom.”

Dana: “He’s learning!”

(Heather and Dana both laugh.)

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May 302012

Percy and Lionel get themselves in a lot of trouble in ‘The First Spring Break’, an historical look at the ‘Person, Place, and Thing’ spanking story writing contest. Enjoy!
–  Dana


The First Spring Break

Sure, it’s all fun and games now, drinking, carousing, and generally making an ass of yourself, but in the spring of 1935 Colgate’s swim team journeyed to Fort Lauderdale to train in the country’s only Olympic sized swimming pool. This excursion was considered the start of the “spring break” tradition in the U. S.and for Lionel and Percy Abernathy it seemed like heaven on earth. Back in Hamilton ,New York there was still snow on the ground and the coeds were almost as frigid as the air. Even though they were only freshmen they were shaping up to be the shining stars of the team and they thought this would give them a bit of leeway, spending their time on sun, booze and girls instead of putting in extra time training.

“Down by the beach are where the girls are and here we are stuck at this stupid hotel with this group of losers” complained Lionel.
“We are here to train and make the school proud of us not raise a ruckus” answered Percy.
“You know you can be a real downer sometimes”
“Besides how would we get down there? It’s too far to walk and besides I want to read some of Hemingway’s ‘Farewell to Arms’ it is really neat!”

Just then Lionel happened to glance outside as a 1927 Pierce Arrow roadster pulled to the entrance and what could only be described as a ‘dandy’ jumped out, threw his keys to the attendant and demanded his car be parked by the entrance with the keys left on the dash. To Percy, this meant nothing but to Lionel this was an opportunity not to be missed! Grabbing Percy Lionel flew out the door and headed for the main entrance. All it took was for the attendant to be distracted for a second and the twins had the car started and were on their way. And what a car it was! It flew like the wind and all the young girls stared and ogled both the car and the very handsome young men. Lionel and Percy were no strangers to the charms of the opposite sex and swim practice was soon forgotten. Cruising in the Pierce Arrow, top down, they had their pick of the girls strolling along the promenade. Two young blondes caught their eye and the game was on! Falling for their charms, the young ladies were soon paired off with the twins and with the help of some rot gut whiskey the group rapidly lost their inhibitions. It was known that the brothers did get some sexual gratification by the spanking of pert young female bottoms and these two fit the bill perfectly Playful slaps quickly escalated to the girls bare bottoms being tattooed by a steady stream of hard swats. At least two of the quartet were enjoying themselves immensely. The rest of the evening events are not for publication in this narrative.

It still remained for the boys to return the car and conjure up a story for being away from the hotel. Their luck held as not a soul was in front of the hotel. They proceeded to return the car to the same spot, left the keys where they found them and headed for the back stairs. But if not for Fred Whipple they would have been home free. Fred was the hotel detective and took any misdeeds at the establishment personally. Hidden behind a royal palm he observed the two return the car and sneak off in what they hoped was a clean getaway. Fred had other plans.

. Fred had pounced on the two miscreants and before they could comprehend the situation, they were in custody. Only because Coach Williams dealt with the episode personally were the police not called

‘Guess we really screwed up this time’ blubbered Percy
‘ You can say that again boy!
Lionel remained stoic and hoping once again his athletic prowess would save the day.
All the commotion had alerted the rest of the team and the coach, not to mention the peeved owner of the Pierce Arrow who was demanding his pound of flesh.

Let’s go forward to the next day. It is the end of swim practice and the team is gathered in a circle,surrounding the naked twins. Also present were The ‘Dandy’, hotel dick, the girls and their parents. After much debate the previous evening an appropriate punishment was agreed on and accepted by the twins. The alternative would have been much worse.

In the State of Florida 16 year old girls could not consent to be spanked by college freshmen, so that explained the presence of the girls and their parents. It was also known that next to the pool was a barber shop whose proprietor was more then happy to lend his razor strop for the occasion. The agreed upon number of strokes was 50, five each from the eight swimmers, who made up the rest of the team, and the two fathers. The twins were secured on the end of the diving board in such a fashion that their bottoms were in the perfect position for the onslaught to follow.

Percy was the first to be tied in place, a look of dread spreading across his face.
‘Lets begin and anyone not taking this seriously will find themselves in the same spot.’ bellowed the coach.

The first boy swung the strop for all he was worth, taking the warning seriously. A tremendous crack echoed through the pool area followed by a heart rendering cry of anguish. If anything the second swing was even harder then the first. After only two smacks Percy was already a wreck, blubbering and crying, a plea for mercy escaping from his lips. The first boy finished his five and the rest of the team followed. All gave their best. When it came time for the first father to deliver his five swats, he stopped, pondered and handed the strop to his daughter. The second father did likewise. Now Percy was already thoroughly chastised and the humiliation of a young girl strapping his behind was the final straw. Their swings were anything but weak. Percy would remember these far longer then the other 40.

Now it was time for Lionel. Strong, stoic Lionel.
‘Do your best’ he shouted.
And they did. Each swing of the strop brought curses, yelled from the top of his lungs. This time after 40 lashes, instead of the fathers, the girl’s mothers took up the strop. Any other time having a woman spank him would have been a joy but not this time. These woman were strong and Lionel would think long and hard before he let another woman at his bottom.

Sufficiently chastised the boys shambled off in shame. Their bottoms were in sorry shape. Their swimming careers were over. Their collage careers were over. Their hope for the future was over. Sadly they had to  follow in their father’s footsteps and spent the next 4 years in the coal mines before being drafted into the army. Sadly neither one returned from the war.

So as far back as anyone can remember, spanking and spring break have gone hand in hand!
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May 232012


Another fine entry to the ‘Person, Place, and Thing’ Spring Break story contest, this blast from the past untitled piece incorporates both F/F and F/M spankings. Enjoy!

–   Dana


 It was the spring of 1966 and I had big plans for spring break- hot girls and cold beer.  For months Sandy and I have been planning to go to a secluded beach in Florida that was a popular spring break destination.  My sister was out of town for two weeks and I knew the combination to the lock on her garage where she kept her 1958 Pontiac convertible.  When we arrived it was everything we had expected- hot girls in bikinis and cold beer.  Back in the 1960’s if you were caught with beer in your car cops would pour it out and send you on your way.  It was the good old boys system- or so we thought.   

Sandy had a beautiful body and wasn’t afraid to show it off in a skimpy bikini and could she kiss.   If I tried to get beyond that point she would grab my hands and put them in their place.  When we got to the beach we got drop dead drunk.  What shocked me the most was the rude disrespectful behavior that the other students displayed toward the police.  Yet the police tolerated the remarks, underage drinking, smell of pot, and even being called pigs from the direction of the smell of pot.  I didn’t understand it; but, I assumed that they were concerned with not starting a riot and keeping our behavior isolated to a small beach.  

How wrong I was.  There were only three ways out of the beach and when Sandy and I left that evening there was an alcohol check point at every exit.  Here we were half wasted with open containers and beer cans all over the back seat.  Upon checking our car the police officer directed us to a parking space and ordered us into the back seat of a police car.   When the doors were closed we were locked in and Sandy was in tears.  Here we were in another state and about to be hauled into a police station for underage drinking and driving under the influence.  I immediately understood why the police tolerated so much name calling and rude behavior from the crowd- they would get the last laugh.  

The police officer got into his car and drove us past the police station for a couple of miles and turned on a long driveway to a secluded house.  The officer grabbed our arms and escorted us to the front door where we were greeted by a maid who lead us to the library and instructed the officer to wait in the hall. She had a strange smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye that was almost frightening.  

Sitting at his desk in the library was a handsome gentleman in his 50’s.  He smiled and offered Sandy and me a seat.  We both felt quite foolish in our swimming suits.   He explained that we were both in serious trouble and that the citizens of the town were perturbed with the behavior of college students during spring break but couldn’t afford to hire enough officials to deal with the problem when it was only for one week.  The jails and criminal justice system were sufficient for fifty one weeks but not for the one week that college students invaded the town.  Because of this civic leaders have come up with a three step plan.   First we will patrol the beach and note unlawful and disrespectful behavior. Second since there are only three exits from the beach we will establish checkpoints.  Students being disrespectful will have profiles sent to checkpoints and those with excessive beer or impaired will be detained.  Third there are three secluded homes where detainees will be escorted.   

One house was occupied by a couple who operated the local health club.  This couple were trim and fit and would have no trouble handling young college students.  In the second house lived a 50 year old widow who had raised five children after her husband was killed by a drunk driver.  The third house was his and his wife Dana Kane was the local elementary principal.  He said that we had a choice to make.  Either we would burden the local judicial system or agreed to voluntarily accept a no nonsense paddling from his wife.  He further explained that her school only allowed five swats but that girls never returned for a second spanking and that the boys were very unhappy little boys when they left her office.  A  few of the boys found themselves over her knee several times but were in tears, kicking, begging, and pleading long before the fifth spank.   Ms. Kane suspected that some of the boys, although they found her spankings extremely painful, had a need to be soundly spanked.  

We both agreed to be soundly spanked by Ms. Kane.    Sandy went first and Ms. Kane put her across her nylon clad legs.   The first spank went across the top of Sandy’s legs and the bottom of her bottom leaving a red strip  across the bottom of Sandy’s bikini clad bottom.  The second spank landed right in the middle of both cheeks.   The third and fourth landed on the right and left cheek respectively.  The next six peppered her bottom from the top to the bottom as she pleaded,  kicked ,  begged and cried.   When Ms. Kane left Sandy up she danced and jumped around the room holding her bright red bottom.  

I was next.  Ms. Kane put me across her nylon clad lap and told me that I would get double of what Sandy got and that I would be acting more like one of her elementary students than like a college freshman when she was finished with me.  She was right.   Sandy took her paddling better than me..   By the third spank I was pleading,  by the fifth I was kicking and begging and by the sixth I was crying.   After twenty my naked bottom was bright red and so was my face.   

To this day I thank Ms. Kane for the paddling she gave me.  While over her knee I only wanted it to end; but,  when it was over I was grateful for not going through the criminal justice system.   Ever once and awhile I for some strange reason wish that I could again relieve all of my anxiety over her knee again.

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May 202012

From the lovely author ‘Anthony’, an excellent spring break spanking romp. Enjoy this ‘Person, Place, and Thing’ story as much as I did!

– Dana


Thomas and Della take Spring Break

You could safely say that over the past three months Aunt Dana had left many a lasting impression on Thomas. 

It was usually her palm leaving that impression, slapping home again and again on his bare bottom until it felt like he’d sat in roiling lava. But she was versatile and when he didn’t live up to her expectations, she punished him soundly with hairbrush and thick red leather strap alike.

It always hurt, but in a strange way he was closest to his aunt when she spanked his bare bottom with her hand. Lying across her upper legs, pressing against the hem of her dress, he dwarfed her in size, and yet there was no doubt of who held control. He was the poster child of a naughty little boy squirming without relief on his aunt’s lap.

Thomas had mastered most aspects of his life and projected a deserved confidence, but when Aunt Dana took his clean white cotton briefs down as she always did at some point in the spanking, and slid them slowly over the curve of his trembling and sore bottom, that confidence ebbed to temporary lows.

Oddly, being so vulnerable and in such close contact as she spanked him also lowered his resistance to her words. Perhaps his aunt was right after all: he could be more considerate of his wife Della. He’d spent a lot of time out of their home focusing his attention on others. 

It was right for him to feel guilty. And that sense of guilt pushed him to unspeakable acts, like arching his back while she was spanking him, to raise his bottom to meet her descending hand, offering his already tender body to her just punishment, even when she hadn’t yet ordered him to do that.

The very first time had been memorable. After Aunt Dana had finished with him at her office (“You Count to Us”) and provided him with stern instructions, he drove home, squirming the entire way. 

He remembered how Della’s lips had formed a small donut when he entered the house. He had walked directly from the garage to the kitchen and started feeling around the vicinity of the counter. It took him awhile to locate the handle that unlocked the dishwasher, but when he did, he emptied the clean dishes and promptly loaded the dirty dishes from the sink into the dishwasher.

Then, in complete silence, he walked to the corner of their living room, pushed his nose into the corner, lowered his trousers and boxers. That was the first time Della witnessed Dana’s handywork.

“I’m so proud of you for going, Thomas,” she’d said to him softly.

He was completely unprepared for what happened next. He heard her come up behind him and felt her place a hand on his shoulder. “I love you – you’ll always be my go-to man, my warrior.” Then he felt the sharp smack as Della’s palm connected with his still aching bottom and she left him in the corner with his stinging backside, pondering the day’s events.

Maybe another man would have hated Della. He had promised Della after that first time that he’d never go back to see Aunt Dana. But despite the strength of his will, Thomas was capable of self-reflection and of gradual change. So that resolution fell into the waste bin with the “play more poker” item from his New Year’s list.

He had planned a special surprise for Della for at least a month now. Della had no idea what was coming, but Thomas had mentioned his plot to Aunt Dana recently–she’d finished spanking him and was lightly massaging his sore posterior, rubbing lotion into his crimson cheeks and joking about how her hand hurt more than his backside (that would be the day!)–and she had fully approved of his plans.

When he’d pulled into their home driveway in the red convertible yesterday evening, he’d honked and honked until Della came out of the house wringing her hands, with a puzzled frown. 

“What do you think, Della? It’s a Chevrolet Caprice Classic,” he’d shouted, revving the engine. “It’s like me – they just don’t make ’em like this anymore!”

They’d talked for a bit outside, and then she’d started smiling and helped him pull their SUV out of the garage, to leave the convertible in prime parking for the night.

It had been awhile since they’d gotten away, taken some vacation. All the college kids were back from exotic trips to Cancun, Jamaica, Florida. For all the glitz and glamor of nighttime Sin City, the reality was that Della and he lived in a desert, and it got hot enough to scorch even a body that hadn’t experienced Aunt Dana’s palm magic. Why shouldn’t they have their own Spring Break? 

That night, upon his suggestion, they stole separately out of their bedroom and met for a rendevous in the spacious rear seat of the convertible. He felt young and and electric-randy. Somehow Thomas was able to dig around and find a bottle of champagne and two glass flutes in an adjacent red tool chest in the garage. They sipped that, and before long, naughtiness overcame them.

Later that night, back in their own bed, Della reached over, grabbing his hand, gently kneading his knuckles and fingers. “Thomas, you’ve been so impulsive lately. Where have you been hiding all these years, you romantic you?” She giggled. “If I’d known all it would take was a handful of old fashioned bare bottomed spankings, we’d have started yours years ago.”

“You talk too much, woman,” he said, squeezing her hand. “We need to get an early start on ‘So Cal’ and our aunt wants us to drop by before we leave.”

“She’s your aunt, not mine,” Della had responded, sticking her tongue out, then sliding softly into his dreams.

Early the next morning, after passing multiple gates, the red convertible was parked in the driveway adjacent to Aunt Dana’s lovely backyard.

Aunt Dana lived in a private community. They’d been to her house only once before, for an outside barbeque by the pool. They’d spent the evening with five other couples, close friends of Dana.  Thomas had noted to himself that many of the women seemed quite confident and capable, laughing and sharing stories, while their male counterparts sat respectfully and somewhat gingerly in the patio furniture. Am I not the only one? he had wondered.

This morning, Aunt Dana was outside the house watering plants, dressed in khaki short and a pressed white long-sleeved shirt. It was strange for Thomas to see her in this role. 

“I have something for you, dears!” She smiled happily, bringing them into her house. “Usually I’m the one receiving gifts,” she laughed. “But I’ve got a few small things for your Spring Break.”

Aunt Dana brought in coffee, and Della and Thomas sipped it in her living room, unwrapping the presents. There was a letterman jacket with “D” for Thomas, an old fashioned college sweater for Della, whose nose wrinkled briefly. “Everything for my college freshman,” Aunt Dana joked.

Finally they’d opened the two gifts that Aunt Dana had saved for last: two matching round black caps with ears.

“I understand you’ll be visiting the happiest place on earth as part of your Spring Break trip,” Aunt Dana said. “Thomas, I expect you to send your Aunt pictures.”

Aunt Dana sat looking at Della and Thomas. “I know the two of you need to leave soon,” she said. “There are only two things I’d like to leave with you.”

She turned to Thomas. “I want you to take these gifts out to the car now. I’ll be outside in ten minutes and I want to see you dressed in your letterman’s jacket. Kneel on the rear seat facing the back of that hot red sports car, with your arms over the back of the seat. Make sure your jeans are down and be prepared for a brisk goodbye spanking.”

As Thomas was gathering up the gifts to take to the Caprice, Aunt Dana started unbuttoning her long sleeves rolling them up above her elbows. Thomas watched out of the corner of his eyes as she turned to Della. A pink hairbrush with a mermaid on it had materialized on the table next to Aunt Dana and she began speaking as if Thomas wasn’t still in the room. 

“I found this toy while I was shopping for mouse hats,” she said. “Della, I know you don’t see me as an aunt of yours at this point. But we’ve made great strides with Thomas. I think I can also help provide some mentoring to you, if you let me.”

“I’m worried about Thomas,” she continued. “He seems much happier now. And better behaved! But he’s also picked up a little weight.”

Thomas watched as Della opened her mouth to speak, but Dana continued, “Don’t get me wrong – he’s still very handsome, a charming man. But losing weight and getting healthier is a team effort.”

Aunt Dana leaned forward, “I’d like to see you take more of a leadership role in helping Thomas with that goal and I’ve got just the plan to motivate you.”

Thomas left the house, stashing the gifts in the trunk of the car and slowly assuming the required position in the back seat of their convertible with his knees dimpling the leather bench seat. Something about the hairbrush had managed to look both childish and dangerous. He imagined how it might feel against the now pale, exposed skin of his bottom.

Something intruded on his nervous daydreaming. There were moans and cries, punctuated with sharp slaps, coming from the house now.


“Yes, yes,” he heard, “I love my man. Of course I’ll take care of him. Ow, oh, ouch. And punish him, like this, ouch ouch when he needs it.”  


“That hurts. Oh yes, yes I plan to take responsibility for him!”


“Oh please stop, that hurts so bad!”


“Yes, OK, OK, yes Aunt Dana, I understand!!! Will you stop now?? Please!”


“Aunt Dana, Aunt Dana, Aunt Dana. Yes, yes I understand!”

Thomas knew that soon his Aunt would be coming out the doorway, strolling to the convertible with a warmed-up hairbrush and ready to ignite his tingling bottom, but a grin broke out on his face.

It looks like Della and he might both might share even more in common after this morning, namely the hope for a fast trip to the west coast, devoid of potholes, and in the coming days, plenty of sunshine, diet and exercise for him. It was in her best interests too, after all.
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May 102012

Here is another well-written entry to last month’s ‘Person, Place and Thing’ spanking story writing contest. Titled “Spring Break Breakdown”, you’ll enjoy the turns in this fun spanking tale.



The cool "Pina Colada Hour" that promised to be so much the part of each day on this vacation was rudely interrupted by the jangling telephone. Just when I was looking forward to renewing my close acquaintance with Hannah---in the bedroom.

"Your turn," said Hannah. "They've all been for you."

I winced. She was right. If it wasn't Jane, my secretary, it was someone she'd given my number to. I'd been running to catch the phone all week. Three days here but it hardly seemed like a vacation. After handling a rather intense case, I'd received a handsome bonus and had decided to renew the conversation with former lover and still current very good friend Hannah Reeves about setting up a law practice in Florida. Hannah was more than happy to meet me in Florida, but she had agreed to chaperone two college freshmen---- her sister's 18 year old daughter, Wendy, and her friend Holly at Ft Lauderdale for Spring Break. So here we all were, and I was up to my ass in estrogen with the three of them in a two bedroom condo on the beach.

As it turned out, the phone was for Hannah. "It sounds like law enforcement," I said. Hannah cocked her head and mouthed "what?" Then she took the phone.

"They what? OK, where? OK. Oh my God. Thanks." Hannah looked worried. "It's the police. Wendy and Holly are in custody."


"Juvenile to be exact. The little dears were rounded up by the beach patrol. Indecency. They were wearing thong swim suits. Police hauled them to jail." Hannah looked at me with narrowed eyes. "Thong suits---what do you know about that?"

They had pleaded with Hannah to allow them to buy these thong barely-there-butt-floss bikinis. They were obviously designed to tease every available male for miles around into hormonal overload. The city had passed a new decency ordinance--just in time for Spring break, and the girls had gone out to the beach in defiance of it.
Served them right, getting arrested.

But, uh, oh. I'd let them buy the suits after Hannah had looked at them in the store and said "Absolutely not."

Both were blondes with great figures which they had been determined to show off as much as possible. They had pleaded with me after Hannah had moved off to another part of the store. I had given in and let them put it on my charge card.

Hannah looked at me with that chilling no nonsense glare. "You bought them after all, didn't you? After I'd said no."

"They promised not to wear them here," I said weakly.

"I should have known they'd try this," fumed Hannah.

"Well, they did leave wearing their one-piece suits," I offered.

"But they changed somewhere. I can't believe this," she fumed. I tried to apologize for buying them in the first place. "I'll deal with you later," she said.

"So what happens now?"

"I don't know. I have to go down there."

So we drove to the juvenile correction center. The parking lot was full. The place was a madhouse, but we were told that there would be an arraignment for a huge block of kids picked up in a sweep for a variety of youthful offenses. Hannah, who was a member of the Florida bar, was able to get us moved up on the docket. Most of the kids there were unsupervised, on their own, and had no one to plead their cases. The judge, a crusty old cracker who'd been on the bench longer than Moses motioned us back into chambers.

"Says here they got hauled in for wearin' one of them thong things," he drawled, reading the police report.

Hannah admitted only what we'd been told.

The judge leaned back in his chair and regarded us thoughtfully. "Way I see it, there's two ways this can go-one, the girls could get the mandatory Juvie treatment-locked up for three days of Spring Break week. Now that's door number one. Two--and this one you ought to think about--Juvenile Correction is going to put on a little demonstration. Right out on the beach. They're gonna show kids what can happen to 'em if they don't obey the law. We're overrun with these damn hooligans this time of year, and the county passed a new ordinance. We're damn tired of paying to incarcerate these kids.

"So now, they're going to get what us kids got in my day for such shenanigans, and that's a good paddling. Only now, the county is going to do a public demonstration and what they need are 'volunteers' for this little show. The good part is, after they're done, that's it. Case dismissed."

Hannah was in shock. So was I. In return for a guilty plea, the girls were to receive, honest to gosh, a public spanking and no incarceration.

"You want to talk to your clients about it? After all, they'll be up on that stage, wearin' those little thong suits and getting a good licking in front of their friends..."

"I can safely say they'll agree to it, judge." Hannah was actually smiling. The little madams were going to get it.

The announcement to Wendy and Holly did not go over well.

"You mean they're going to s-spank us?" asked Holly incredulously.

"In front of all those people?" Wendy was shocked to even ask.

"Well, kids it's a hell of a lot better than being locked up at Juvenile, isn't it Rob?" asked Hannah, turning my way.

"It's pretty grim in the lockup," I said.

The girls were crestfallen. They were still in the juvenile detention center wearing their thong suits (now covered by a beach skirt and jacket ensemble).

"I could call your parents and ask them what they want you to do..." ventured Hannah.

"Oh, no no," they both blurted, almost in unison, "we'll do the, uh, demonstration thing."

Hannah notified the matron, then signed some papers. Then the girls signed. The matron made a phone call and two juvenile officers showed up. Both officers were Dept of Corrections people. Both wore khaki shorts and white blouses with ties. One whose name tag read "Carla" was a tall Brunette with a thin face and short clipped hair, the other, "Fran" was a stocky blonde. Both women appeared to be in their early forties and very capable. We were to go with them in a squad car to a stage that had been set up on the beach.

The girls were silent all the way there until Wendy asked in a shaky voice, "Are you the ones who are going to...you know..."

"That's right, miss," said Carla in a clipped businesslike voice. "You are both getting a break and I want full cooperation--or else. Just think of us as your moms away from home." Both women chuckled.

The girls just slunk down in their seats, totally mortified. When we got to the staging area, a crowd had already started to gather. The stage was set up at the end of a parking lot facing the beach. It was usually used for bands and music, but Juvenile Corrections had taken it over today. On stage were a few microphones and two sturdy stools. Carla and Fran secured the girls' wrists in front of them with plastic restraints and pulled them out of the car. Another Dept of Corrections officer, a man, took the microphone on the stage. A curious crowd had begun to gather. It was mixed. There were families with kids, teenagers, and seniors who had been either sunbathing or swimming or walking on the beach, but they sensed something was in the offing and started gathering about the stage in expectation of what it might be.

The corrections guy announced that he was officer Ruiz and that what they were about to see was a sentence carried out by order of the Juvenile Court for public indecency. Couched in the announcement was a warning that the punishment they were about to see was mild compared to what juveniles might receive for other, more serious crimes. Now the crowd was very interested. The girls were frog marched by Carla and Fran, respectively, to the stage. They had been stripped of their beach shifts and were now clad only in the thong bikinis that had prompted the arrest. No wonder they were arrested. Pale, firm and full, the pair of succulent teenaged bare bottoms on display in those bikinis left nothing to the imagination. When they had climbed the stairs to the stage, they stood, each officer with a firm grip on the arm of her charge, facing the expectant audience. Officer Ruiz regarded them with a thin smile then pulled out a sheet of paper and began to read it aloud to everyone.

"By order of the Juvenile Court of Dade County, Judge Ellison presiding, Miss Holly Sanders and Miss Wendy Woods, having pleaded guilty to violation of county ordinance no. 114.675(a)(2), public indecency, both shall be publicly punished as prescribed by law."

Turning to Carla and Fran he said, "Ladies, do your duty." Holly and Wendy started to mouth protests as they were gripped more tightly and escorted over to the two sturdy stools. Almost in unison, the corrections officers sat on the stools, which were side by side and pulled the two juvenile culprits over their laps. The girls shrieked at this indignity. Their pale moons quivered as they squirmed helplessly across the laps of the stolid matrons who held them in a secure grip, learned no doubt by experience with countless other naughty teenage hoydens.

Chuckles swept through the crowd at the obvious distress of the embarrassed teenagers. The crowd now noticed that cute backsides of the two girls were practically bare save for the skimpy thongs that hid only their private girlish parts. With grim smiles the officers each produced an oval paddle. The crowd grew silent. At a signal from Officer Ruiz Carla and Fran raised the leather spankers and proceeded to smack the wriggling bottoms of the hapless teenagers. The girls screeched in indignity and pain as crisp smacks rang out, the sounds of which were effectively picked up by the stage microphones. Holly was the shorter of the two and her legs fluttered as she squirmed in vain over the determined officer's lap. Wendy's toes drummed on the floor of the stage in an attempt to alleviate the unbearable sting that had built up from repeated applications of the paddle. The cracks and thwacks of the paddles along with the shrieks and crying of the mortified girls formed a cacophony of sound that attested to the efficacy of Florida justice as the bouncing bottoms of the two girls took on the dark red hues of a bad beach sunburn. After what seemed like two or three minutes of steady spanking, both officers quit and stood up, hauling their blubbering charges to their feet.

But it wasn't over. Holly and Wendy were grabbed by waist and bent over, tucked under an arm of the officers with their red bottoms on display.

"This," intoned Officer Ruiz, "is what juveniles flaunting our ordinances can expect-only worse. For you kids out there, be forewarned."

They released the sobbing girls to Hannah and we bundled them into the car. Both teenagers were crying softly and rubbing their swollen rears.

"Ow," bleated Holly, as she tried to sit in the car, "they really spanked us hard. My butt is raw. I never got a spanking from mom that was that long or that hard."

And that was the problem, I thought.

"It was the most humiliating moment of my life," sobbed Wendy.

"It could have been worse," remarked Hannah. "You could be having fun in a cell with new friends."

"Brrr," said Holly. "If that's what you call fun, I'm out of here."

Hannah looked at me and smiled. "You girls go down to the pool--in your one piece outfits. I need to discuss something with Rob."

They left. Cooling off their little bottoms in the pool would take awhile.

Hannah looked at me and pointed at the sofa arm. "Shorts down and bend over."


"You heard me," she said, first unbuckling, then pulling my own belt though my pant loops with a slithering sound. "I think 20 good licks should suffice."

"But what did I do?"

"I told you not to let them buy those suits so you share the blame," said Hannah.

There was no help for it. I had to accept my fate or I might as well pack up. I slid my shorts down and bent over the sofa arm. A cool breeze wafted in from the ocean tickling my bare behind. I was grateful the crashing sound of the waves because it masked the sound of leather cracking down on my bare bottom and my accompanying yelps. Hannah has a strong arm and each crack of that belt was deliberately placed. I "youched" and pleaded as the belt strapped my bare bottom with searing intensity. It seemed like each welt raised the heat in my seat by a factor of ten. Twenty with the belt is a lot and by the time Hannah had finished plying that strap across my bare behind twenty times, I was clutching the sofa pillows with a death grip, my eyes had watered up and it was all I could do to force myself to stay in position. Then it was over.

Hannah told me to stand and face her. "You took that well, Rob," she said, unbuttoning her own shorts and pulling off her top. "The girls are in the pool cooling off their little behinds." She smiled wickedly. "Strapping that cute boyish ass of yours gave me naughty thoughts. What say we get this vacation started right?"

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