Winners of the Everybody Wins Contest ~

 

Boys and Girls,

After a great contest (and a bit of consternation related to the crummy voting system), I’m happy to announce the winners of the Spanking Wish Story Contest!

The three (actually five) stories with the most votes, below, each receive an unlimited 30 day membership to DanaKaneSpanks.com :

 

Sister Dana and The Leprechaun (#18)

The Resort (#20)

And TIED for third (thanks, Lei, I’m going with your democratic memory on this one, along with a few separate comments from other users):

Be Careful What You Wish For (#4)  and Wish Upon a Star ( #19) and Big Bellied Buddha (#24)

 

( See how that works? MY software screws up and even more of YOU win – you should all hope this  happens more often.~~ )

Every single one of the other winning entries will receive a spanking video download of their choice from my current catalog.

 

Thanks again to everyone who participated, and congratulations to ALL TWO DOZEN of our winners!

(All story entrants will receive an email containing details on prize redemption in the coming week.)

–  Dana

A few First Time Evers (TUS)

 

This is, I believe, the first time Buddy’s ever been in water that didn’t have a bathtub wrapped around it.

Although it was a bit cool, and he was completely distracted by everything going on around him, he did manage to wade his old creaky butt out into the shallows a few times:

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Not many people try to pet Buddy in public. Does he really look like a mean dog? Puhleese!

 

I’ve never visited Lake Havasu City before, and really had no idea that there was anything more there than a bunch of supposedly really nice water.

Imagine my surprise when I found out that it also contains LONDON BRIDGE…the real freaking London Bridge:

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Contrary to popular schoolyard musical mythology, London Bridge is NOT falling down (it’s just in the desert now).

 

 

Pretty view from the hotel balcony. And lucky for everyone visiting, the whole London-Bridge-tarred-head-on-a-pike thing has been replaced by chi-chi restaurants and kayaking retirees:

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One First Time Ever that was not accomplished : The kayak rental guy didn’t return my call to confirm the kayak delivery that would have likely freaked the dog totally out. Probably for the best…

– Dana

Vote for your favorite Spanking Wish story!

 ** This is a ‘sticky’ post, which means that it will remain at the top of the blog post area for a couple weeks. For new content after April 6, just scroll down past the poll. **

After several weeks of writing time, and a few more to get all the entries posted, it’s finally time to begin voting for your favorite Spanking Wish story entry. Each entry should contain only ONE choice, and each user should vote only ONE time – no cheating (the polling software records your info so it’s easy to see if you’ve voted more than once).

Special thanks to all two dozen hearty and creative spankos who took the time to write and enter their original spanking stories, and to anyone who’s taken the time to read and comment – you’re all awesome!

 

Now, the voting:

[poll id=”2″]

Good luck to everyone – although you scarcely need it, as you’ll ALL win something.

–  Dana

Final Contest Entry #24 : Big Bellied Buddha

 

Everyone,

This has been one helluva contest, and here’s the final entry for our  ‘Spanking Wish’ contest  …

Enjoy! We’ll begin voting soon.

– Dana

 

**********

“Big Bellied Buddha”

Mary was a young college student at the ripe age of nineteen. She attended a small out of state college which carried a high reputation in mathematics and science. Mary was an excellent student who studied hard and performed well on tests. Her favorite class was biochemistry. Which was taught by a tall and beautiful female professor named Professor Varney. Professor Varney was a sharp witty woman with a genuine liking towards Mary. Mary being the intelligent young lady that she was could definitely recognize the contrasting attention Professor Varney would give Mary verse the other students in her class. Mary took delight in this special attention and looked forward to the days of the week when she had her biochemistry class. Mary began sitting in the very front of the room. Choosing to sit right dead in front of Professor Varneys podium. And as the semester went by Professor Varney continued her unquestionable preference she had towards Mary. Mary began to dote more and more with this unusual type of attention. And in return she began fantasizing about Professor Varney on a consistent basis. Most of Mary’s fantasies of Professor Varney pertained to spanking. Being that Mary had been a spanko since the day she could remember. Mary longed for Professor Varney to put her over her knee and spank her for all the naughty things she had done in her past from the time she was a little girl.

One day as Mary was sitting outside on the campus lawn she was approached my Professor Varney. “Well look who it is, looking so sophisticated with her biochemistry textbook in one hand and her coffee in the other.” Mary was choked up and had no idea what to say. Professor Varney took notice of Mary’s reluctant vibe and continued on. “ Well Miss Mary I can see you are at a loss for words so I will continue on. Don’t you know how rude it is to just sit and stare when one is trying to make simple conversation? What has happened all of a sudden to my top student?” Mary just shrugged her shoulders and again was unable to think of anything to say. “Mary I would like to invite you out to dinner with me on Friday night. Would you be able to make it?” Ms. Varney said. Mary’s mouth dropped and she began to shake her head up and down acknowledging she would be able to attend the invitation. “Then it’s settled. I will meet you at the Golden Egg Roll at eight o’clock Friday night. Don’t be late young lady or I will have to put you across my knee after dinner.” Professor Varney said in a stern voice. Mary again shook her head and watched in awe as Professor Varney walked away. Mary couldn’t believe what Professor Varney had just mentioned about putting her over her knee after dinner if she was late. “Was Professor Varney a spanko as well?” Mary wondered. The final words Professor Varney stated about spanking kept reiterating in Mary’s mind over and over again until finally Friday night came.

Mary dressed in a classy tight black outfit and decided to leave her kinky hair down for once in a great while. Mary wanted to purposefully show up late to see if Professor Varney was actually being serious about spanking her for being tardy.  But she just didn’t have the courage. Although Mary was a bonafide spanko since the beginning of her time, she unfortunately had not yet been spanked. As Mary reached the Golden Eggroll in the middle of Chinatown she immediately saw Professor Varney waiting outside the front door. Mary waved innocently as she approached the door. “Hello Mary. I’m glad to see that you took being on time seriously. But too bad for me. I was looking forward to having you over my knee.” Mary gulped and said absolutely nothing. Professor Varney then opened the door for Mary and they both went inside together.

That was it!  Mary knew now for sure that this could actually be the first opportunity in her life to get spanked. Mary and Professor Varnney sat in a corner booth of the small restaurant away from all the shuffle and bustle. There Professor Varney did most of the talking. Mary was mummified by Professor Varneys presence. And the only thing she could think of was getting spanked by this ultimate fantastic women named Professor Varney. “Mary I want you to call me Suzanne from now on. Can you do that for me?” Professor Varney asked in a low sweet tone. Mary shook her head yes. Suzanne smiled. “Excuse me for my rudeness Suzanne but I must use the ladies room.” “You may go sweet girl.” Suzanne replied. Mary liked having that assurance. It made her feel safe. She smiled at Suzanne and stood up. “Don’t dottle for long little Miss. Or I will have to spank you.” Suzanne said in a smiling voice. “I won’t. I promise.” Mary said quickly. And off she went.

As Mary washed her hands she looked in the mirror and began thinking that all of this was too good to be true. Mary finally knew what she really wanted for the very first time in her young adult life. She wanted Suzanne. Mary wasn’t exactly sure how she wanted her. But what Mary did know for sure was that she wanted Suzanne to give her the spanking she always longed for. As Mary exited the bathroom and began hustling back to the table something shiny caught her eye. There, standing practically right in front of her, was a large golden Buddha. The Buddha statue was surrounded by shiny silver quarters and a basket of Asian fruit at its knees. Mary slowly walked up to the Buddha. She noticed the statues wide naked belly sticking straight out at her. A tall Chinese chef saw Mary standing in front of  the Buddha. Suddenly the chef came out from behind the kitchen entry way and stood next to Mary. He told Mary to rub the Buddhas belly and make a wish. Mary looked at the Chinese chef  in amazement. She then looked back down at the Buddha’s belly. Mary slowly brought one of  her hands up from her right side. She began rubbing the Buddha’s smooth golden belly. Her fingers moved back and forth and round and round. As she rubbed the belly of the Buddha Mary made her wish. She wished for Suzanne to spank her. To spank her hard and thoroughly. In a way that would bring her to tears. The way she had always fantasized about.

That very same night Mary returned home from the the Chinese restaurant. She was sad and she lied in her bed all alone. Mary was disappointed that nothing further happened after dinner with Suzanne. Then Mary stared at the ceiling wondering if only the wish she had made at the Chinese restaurant would actually come true one day. Soon Mary began fantasizing about getting a really hard spanking from Suzanne until finally she fell fast asleep. The next morning Mary woke up. She looked around and noticed that her room and all her things were completely different. All of a sudden, she heard a very familiar voice. The voice was of a women talking in the hallway right outside the door from where Mary had awoken. Mary soon realized she recognized the woman’s voice.  It was the voice of Professor Varney. Unexpectedly, Mary heard Suzanne,s voice again. But this time Suzanne’s voice was calling directly towards her. “Mary this is the last time I am going to tell you to get up from that bed. You are going to be late for class! If I have to come back in your room one more time young lady, I am going to yank you out of that bed and spank your bottom like I’ve never spanked it before!” Mary quickly jumped up from her unfamiliar bed with delight.  “Coming Suzanne!”  She promptly called back. Mary then rushed out of her bedroom and ran down the stairs as fast as her legs could carry her.

Story Contest Entry #23 : What Goes Around Comes Around

 

Readers,

Don’t give up now – we’re down to just a few more entries in the  ‘Spanking Wish’ contest  …

Read on~

– Dana

 

**********

“What Goes Around Comes Around”

Surrounded by friends gathered to celebrate her birthday, Lindsey closed her eyes, a serene expression taking over her features.  Her face showed animation, the hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth revealing hope for the future.  Opening her eyes, she took a deep breath and blew out the candles that covered her birthday cake, silently thanking Mr. Edwards, her band director, for continually reinforcing lessons in breath control throughout her years of playing the trumpet in the school band.  As the last candle to gave up its flame, applause erupted from the onlookers.

“What did you wish for?” her best friend Sherry asked.

“If I tell you, it won’t come true,” Lindsey protested.

“Oh, come on, Lindsey,” Andrea cajoled.  “You already made the wish.  What you do now won’t affect it one way or the other.”

“Well . . . okay.  That makes sense,” Lindsey agreed.  “I wished that I would win this lawsuit.”

“Attagirl!” Sherry gripped her friend in a sideways hug, emphasized by gentle backslaps.  “I could see you arming yourself with optimism just before you blew out the candles.  We all wish that for you, too.  Winning the first one was a major victory.”

“Yeah, you deserved to come out on top in that one.  You fought hard to prove what they did was wrong,” Mindy echoed.  “I’m so glad you beat out that—” she paused, searching for the right word.

“Temper, temper, Mindy,” Sherry chided.

“Well, I was gonna say ‘witch,’ ” Mindy defended herself.

“Oh, sure,” Sherry said skeptically.  “We could hear what you were thinking.”

Everyone laughed.  Though all the guests at the party were good friends, these four—Lindsey, Sherry, Andrea, and Mindy—had known each other since they were toddlers.  Though they had different interests, their close friendship had endured through the years.

As Mindy removed the candles and Andrea brought paper plates, Lindsey busied herself cutting the cake, placing each portion on a plate Andrea held steady.  “By tomorrow afternoon I should know the outcome.  Mark will be in the courtroom for moral support.  I’ll call Sherry as soon as I find out.  We’ll get word to everyone.”

“Who wants ice cream?” Mindy asked the group.

“People always ask that, and it’s a very silly question.  Everyone always wants ice cream.”  Andrea’s pronouncement met with a chorus of affirmative comments.

“Bring your plates over here,” Mindy directed.  “There’s room for a scoop or two next to the cake.”

“Good thinking,” Sherry complimented.

Later, after most of the guests had left and the party remains had been cleaned up, the hostesses relaxed in the living room.  Indicating her concern, Andrea asked, “What’s your feeling about how the trial’s been going?”

“I’m optimistic,” Lindsey said, “but I know it’s not good to get my hopes up too high.  I gave concise answers, but the other side didn’t.  I actually saw one of the jurors fold her arms across her chest and frown when the “witch” testified.  I’m thinking they were sympathetic to my side.  Oh, and every time my attorney objected, his objection was sustained, but all of the other side’s objections were overruled, every one of them.

“Well, it’s about time to head home,” Sherry announced.  “I’m really glad all of us could get together.  It’s been a fun time.  I just had a thought:  If you win tomorrow, we’ll need to celebrate that, too!  Anyway, I hope you can relax and get a good night’s sleep tonight.”

“I plan to do just that.  I’m going over to see Mark in a little while.  He’s taking me out to dinner for my birthday, and then we’ll go back to his house for dessert.”

“ ‘Dessert,’ huh?” Andrea teased.

“Well, you know, our favorite dessert.” Lindsey said.  “ ‘Rump roast.’ ”

They all laughed.  Lindsey’s friends moved toward the front door and hugged all around, amid comments of “Take care,” “I’ll be thinking about you,” and “I’ll keep my fingers crossed.”

When they had left, Lindsey went to her bedroom and opened the closet door to take out the clothes she had decided to wear to dinner.  She went into the bathroom, undressed, and showered.  When she was finished washing, brushing her teeth, dressing, and putting on makeup, she called her boyfriend to let him know she was about to leave.

She covered the five miles to Mark’s house at a moderate speed.  She turned into his double driveway and parked next to his car.  He greeted her at the door with a strong, comfortable hug and a kiss.

“So, where are you taking me for dinner?” Lindsey asked.

“It’s a surprise,” Mark answered with a smirk.  “You’ll like it.”

“Okay, if you say so.”

Mark got his suit coat and put it on.  “All set?”  Lindsey smiled in reply and he walked her to the door and opened it for her.  He walked with her to the passenger’s side and opened the door.  When she was settled, he went to the driver’s side and got in.

As Mark backed out of the driveway, Lindsey asked, “How about a little hint?”

“There’s a blindfold in the glove compartment,” Mark countered.  “It will help you stop asking questions, just in case you can’t stop by yourself.”

“I’ll hush,” she said.

A few minutes later, he turned into the parking lot of Jackson’s Restaurant.  “Wow, Mark.”  Lindsey exclaimed.  “I’ve never been here, but this is supposed to be the ultimate dining experience.”

He parked and went to open her door, saying, “I thought it was appropriate for a celebration like this.”

“Oh, thank you.  I feel like a queen just to be brought here.”

“I hope so,” he murmured as he put his arm around her shoulders.

They were seated in a secluded area and leisurely enjoyed an excellent prime rib dinner.  After they had both finished their meal, Mark asked, “Are you ready for dessert?”  Receiving Lindsey’s mischievous smile in answer, he signaled their waiter for the check.  Walking back to the car, Mark put his arm around her and asked, “Are you nervous about tomorrow?”

“Yes,” she replied.  “I’m pretty tense.  I’m counting on you to help me with that.”

“I’ll do my best,” he promised.

“Your best has always been enough in the past,” she said, looking up at him and then laying her head against his chest.

He helped her into the passenger’s seat and took his place behind the wheel.  They drove in silence to his house.

As he opened the front door for Lindsey, she asked, “Bedroom or den?”

“Bedroom, I think,” he answered.

She went to his bedroom and began taking off her clothes, while Mark hung up his suit, threw his shirt into a hamper, and put on a pair of pajama bottoms.  He sat down on the bed and watched Lindsey remove everything but her panties.  She walked to him and lay across his lap.

“I’m going to do something different,” he told her.  He showed her a short paddle made of beautiful light-colored wood.  “I’m going to use just paddles.  It will be the warmup and the spanking.”

“Ouch, it hurts already,” she said.

“No, I’ll go easy at first, and you’ll be okay later when it’s harder.”

“Okay, if you say so,” she answered doubtfully.

He began with swats so light they could hardly be called spanks, moving to different areas of her bottom and the upper part of her thighs to make sure every spot received attention.  She lay comfortably across his lap, finding a surprising level of enjoyment in the sensation.  After two or three minutes, he stopped and began rubbing her bottom and thighs gently.  Then he hooked his fingers in the waistband of her panties and pulled them down to her knees, exposing the bare skin of her bottom.

“Hmm, not very pink yet.  That’s okay; we’ve got plenty of time.  How do you feel?”

She answered, “I feel great.  What you’re doing feels really nice.”

He picked up the paddle again and resumed spanking her gently, making sure to spread his attention to all areas.  “How does that feel?” he asked her, rubbing her skin gently.

“It’s wonderful.  I didn’t know a paddle could feel like this.  All this time I thought I was allergic to wood.”

Mark laughed out loud.  “I’m glad you’re enjoying it, since this isn’t a naughty girl spanking.”

He rubbed her bottom a little longer and then began spanking again.  Almost imperceptibly, he began to increase the force of the swats.  He listened for verbal reactions from Lindsey and watched for flinching, relying on her indication of distress to guide the amount of force he used.  A few minutes later, he paused and began rubbing her bottom again.  “How are you doing,” he asked.

“It feels strange,” she replied.  “It doesn’t hurt, but my bottom feels real hot.”

“Well, this could be a sample of what hot flashes will be like when you’re older.”

“On my butt?” she asked, looking around at him.

“Why not?  Hot flashes affect a woman all over, don’t they?  Your butt is part of ‘all over.’ ”

“That doesn’t make sense, but I can’t think of a witty reply.”  She laid her head back down.

“I’m going to go a little harder,” Mark warned.  “I hope it will feel good and not too painful.  At least, that’s what I’m aiming for.  You know the old story about the frog in the pan of cold water?  The water gets gradually warmer and the frog doesn’t notice it, and soon the water is boiling.  I’m not trying to boil your bottom, but I do want it to be gradual so it winds up being a hard spanking without the trauma.  Or drama.”

“Are you calling me a ‘trauma queen’?”

Mark smacked her hard with the paddle.

“Owww,” she cried.  “That was NOT gradual,” Lindsey complained.

“Oh, my goodness.  That was involuntary.  I think it’s the paddle’s way of groaning.”

“Very funny.”

“Well, your pun wasn’t.”

“Okay, I forgot.  You don’t like puns.”

“Let’s get back to the matter at hand,” he said, patting her bottom.  He started spanking her again, alternating sides and continuing to cover all areas.  He gradually increased the intensity, always on the lookout for clues that Lindsey was experiencing more stress than he intended.  As the minutes went by, the force increased.  He again paused and began rubbing her bottom and thighs.  “How does that feel?” he asked.

“It’s really weird.  It feels about the same, but I know you’re hitting a lot harder.  I haven’t been in this situation before.”

“All right.  This is going to be a little change.”  He reached over to the dresser and picked up a paddle that was longer but similar in weight.  He swatted her sharply with it.  She flinched slightly.  He waited about 30 seconds and smacked her again, in a different place.  She murmured “unh” but did not flinch.  He hit in still another spot, and she breathed in deeply and then exhaled, but remained still.  He continued in this fashion, with 30-second pauses, each swat slightly more forceful than the last.  She continued to lie still, with only minimal reaction.  After the seventh swat at the slow tempo, Lindsey’s back began to shudder, and she started whimpering.  Mark laid the paddle down and reached for her shoulders.  He pulled her to a sitting position on his lap and held her while she cried.  He spoke to her softly, soothing her.

“I don’t know why I’m crying.  It didn’t hurt that much.”

“You’re crying because you’ve been under such a strain.  It’s tension relief, which is what I was trying to achieve.  I think you’re going to be sore tomorrow.  Your bottom looks like a couple of eggplants.

Lindsey burst out laughing, even as the tears flowed.  “Eggplants?  Let me see.”

Mark helped her off his lap, and she walked to the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door.  Looking around at her bottom, Lindsey exclaimed, “Jiminy Crickets!  I didn’t even know skin could be this color.  It’s eggplant, all right.”  She reached back to touch her bottom cheeks with her hands.  “Wow!  That’s warm.  It’s numb now, but I’ll bet you’re right about my being sore tomorrow.”

Mark handed Lindsey a box of tissues from the nightstand.  “I want you to lie down on your back.”  He heard her blow her nose as he went into the bathroom, reached into a cabinet, and got a large bath towel, which he took back into the bedroom.  Lindsey was supine on the bed, and he draped the towel over her.  “I’ll be right back,” he said, disappearing into the hallway.

When he returned, Mark had a kitchen towel and a freezer bag filled with crushed ice.  “Here’s a cold pack for your face.”

Lindsey raised herself up on one elbow.  “What the heck’s wrong with my face?  You went out to dinner with this face,”  She protested indignantly.

Mark sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed her arm.  “Honey, nothing is wrong with your lovely face.  It’s just that you’ve been crying, and I think that in the morning, the judge and the jury will be more impressed with your exquisitely beautiful face if your eyes aren’t puffy and you don’t look like you’ve been crying.  Now lie down and relax.”

“Oh, okay.  You’re right.”  Acquiescing, she lay back down.

Mark laid the towel across her eyes and placed the ice pack on the towel.  “How’s that?  Is it on both eyes?  It’s supposed to get colder, but only up to a point.”

“Yes, it’s on both eyes.  It feels nice and cool.”

“Pretty soon the towel will get damp from condensation, and it may feel colder.  I want it to stay on for 20 minutes unless it gets too cold.  Frostbite isn’t our goal.  I’ll be right here.”  He gently caressed her thigh.

Lindsey squirmed and reached down to touch an area of her right buttock.  “What’s the matter?  Something bothering you?”  Mark asked, chuckling.

“Just a little twinge,” she answered, smiling.

“Doesn’t it, though,” he agreed.

They were quiet for several minutes.  Then Mark announced, “Ten more minutes.”

“Mm-hmm,” Lindsey replied.  Then, anxiously, “Mark?”

“Yes?”

“You are going to be there tomorrow, aren’t you?  In court, I mean.”

“Oh, yes.  The Budweiser Clydesdales couldn’t keep me away.”

“Good.  I was counting on it.”  Lindsey relaxed visibly.

After another period of silence, Mark said, “Five more minutes.  Are you warm enough?”

“Yes, I’m fine, and my eyes don’t feel too cold.  What time is it?”

Mark looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand.  “It’s 8:39.  You probably want to get on the road pretty soon.”

“Yes, I would.  I need to get home and get ready for court tomorrow and then get to bed on time.”

“What time do you have to be in bed?”

“Ten o’clock, or else.”

Mark chuckled.  “Or else your Disciplinarian has something to say about it?”

Lindsey smiled.  “Right.  And she says it like I can understand it.  Improvement came slowly for me, but I’ve gotten a lot better about it lately.”

“Good girl.”

“Thanks.  I’m more alert and more effective when I’ve slept well and long enough.  Mark?”

“Mmm?”

“Where did you get the idea for what you did tonight with the paddle?”

“I came up with it myself.  There’s the frog analogy, and then I thought the hard smacks at the end should be spaced out.  I figured if they were too close together, and built in intensity, the effect would be something else entirely.  I was hoping you would cry, because I thought you needed the emotional release.  I wasn’t sure it would work that way.”

“I’m glad it did.  I do feel better, but kind of weak.”

“You should still be okay to drive, but I’ll take you home if you want me to.  Time’s up.”  Mark reached for the ice pack and removed it while bringing her hand toward her eyes to shield them from the light.

As her eyes adjusted, Lindsey gazed up at Mark.  “You sure do take good care of me,” she said.

“I’m glad you think so,” he replied.  “That’s the plan.  Let’s get you up and see how you do.”  He took her hands and gently pulled her to her feet.

“Whoa,” said Lindsey, swaying slightly.  “I may have to get used to this.”

“You’ll be fine in a minute,” Mark assured her.  “Remember, you’ve been horizontal for nearly an hour.  And your body has been stressed.  The nutritious dinner we had will help a lot.  Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll bring your clothes.”  He lowered her back down to sit on the bed and went to get her things from the chair where she’d left them.

  She put on what she could while sitting down, and Mark knelt to put her trouser socks on.  Lindsey moved in a gingerly fashion to get each leg into her slacks, balancing with Mark’s help when she stood to pull them up.  “Wow, I’m gonna have a heck of a reminder of this tomorrow.  These pants hurt!  It feels good, though.”  He then placed her shoes where she would be able to step into them.

“Let’s see if I still know how to walk.”  She cautiously walked into the living room to the table where she had left her purse.

“You seem to have the hang of it, all right,” Mark said.  “I’ll walk you to the car.”

Lindsey turned to him.  “But first,” she said, hugging him to her, “Thank you for a wonderful evening.  “I keep trusting you to know what’s good for me, and you keep knowing it.”

As he embraced her, smoothing her hair, Mark said, “You’re precious to me, Lindsey.  This lawsuit is a big deal, and these people have caused you no end of turmoil, not only financially, but physically and emotionally, too.  You’ve held up through it all, and things have started going your way.  I hope the decision tomorrow also goes your way.  Now, get going.”  He gave her a final squeeze and turned her around to face the door.  He opened it, and they walked to her car.  He reached to open the door for her.  When she was behind the wheel, he closed the door firmly as she lowered her window.  He leaned down and kissed her through the window.  “I’ll meet you at the courthouse.”

“Okay,” Lindsey said.  “See you there.”  She started the car and backed out of the driveway.  As she changed gears from Reverse to Drive, she looked at him and he waved.

A short time later she was home and in the house.  She locked the door and made her way to the bedroom.  What she would wear to court the next morning was all prepared.  She took off her clothes, put them in the hamper, and took her nightgown from the hook in the bathroom door.  The garment felt cool as she put her arms through the sleeves and it slid over her head and down her body.  She looked at her face in the mirror and saw that her eyes seemed normal.  ‘Mark is such a genius,’ she thought.  She splashed water on her face and then patted it dry with the hand towel.  She brushed her teeth and went into the bedroom.

Lindsey pulled back the covers and sat down on her bed, unprepared for the sensation she experienced.  “Jiminy Crickets!” she said aloud.  It was as though her furniture had become petrified while she was gone from the house.  The comfortable mattress she had bought a year ago was now more like a bed of stone.  Admittedly, she relished the way it felt to her backside, because it proved that she had been soundly spanked, which was what she had wanted and needed.  She checked the time—9:45—wrote it in her bedtime journal, and set her alarm.  She lifted her legs onto the bed, turned off the bedside lamp, and promptly rolled over onto her stomach.

The next morning, Lindsey opened her eyes and looked at the clock.  The alarm would sound in nine minutes.  She closed her eyes again and lay still, remembering her wish.  It seemed like everything should just fall into place and she should be victorious in this lawsuit.  The other side had clearly invaded her privacy.  Sometimes, though, things just don’t work out the way they “should,” or the way we have them planned.  ‘Please let me win this case,’ she pleaded to whomever.

“RRRIIINNNGGGGGGGGGGGG,” went the alarm.  It was definitely a sound not to be ignored.  Lindsey swung her feet off the bed and sat up.  That was her first mistake.  “Oh, my heavens to Betsy,” she exclaimed.  She reached for the clock to turn off the raucous sound.  She turned on the lamp, stood up, and walked to the bathroom.  As she eyed the toilet seat she thought, ‘maybe I can just tinkle in the shower.’  It sounded reasonable enough.  But she needed coffee first.  Resigning herself to the necessity, she gently lowered herself to the seat.  At least it was cool.  But it HURT.  She breathed deeply, in and out, her eyes watering.  This was going to get worse, too, as the day progressed.  Finished with that task, she padded to the kitchen to make coffee.  While it dripped, she added a bowl of wheat flakes, orange juice, and a vitamin tablet to her breakfast menu.  She reached to pull a chair away from the table but changed her mind, thinking, ‘Forget it.  I’ll eat standing up.’  She downed the vitamin tablet with a large swallow of orange juice and then as many small swallows as needed to polish off the juice.  To Lindsey’s delight, her cereal seemed particularly flavorful this morning.  She ate while looking out the window over the sink.  It was barely dawn, and there was little to see.  After spooning up the last of the cereal, she drank the remaining milk from the bowl, rinsed it and the juice glass, and put them into the dishwasher.  By then the coffee was ready.  She poured some into her favorite mug and added milk.  Putting the milk back into the refrigerator, she picked up the mug and returned to the bathroom.

Lindsey turned on the shower, waited 15 seconds, and stuck her hand in to check the temperature.  It was nice and warm.  ‘Now comes the fun part,’ she thought.  She stepped into the shower facing the stream of water.  So far, so good.  She let her face and hair get wet and then turned around.  For a few seconds, she was paralyzed, it hurt so much.  That was the worst part, though.  She then shampooed her hair, washed, and got out of the shower and dried off.  Between sips of coffee, she dried her hair, got dressed, and put on her makeup.  She carried her coffee into the kitchen, drank the last of it, rinsed the mug, and put it in the dishwasher.  She was ready to leave.  She checked to make sure the bathroom light was off and the coffeemaker was turned off.  She picked up her purse and went out the front door, locking it behind her.

Lindsey unlocked the door to her car and braced herself for the ordeal of getting in and sitting in the driver’s seat.  ‘Man, oh man,’ she thought.  Breathing deeply and evenly, she started the car and was on her way.  Because she was early, traffic was lighter than what she usually encountered when leaving later.  That made the drive time shorter and also lessened the typical stress she had to deal with when traffic was heavy.  She also was able to find a convenient parking place easily.  She waited patiently for several minutes and then heard the sound of a familiar car horn to her left.  Mark was pulling into a parking space three cars away.  He got out and came over to her window.

“Are you ready to go in?” he asked.

“Sure,” Lindsey answered.  “We can go in the building.  We can loiter a little while before going into the courtroom.”

Mark opened the door for her and she got out of the car.  “I saw you wince when you swiveled toward the door.  That bad, huh?”

She looked at him.  “You really poured it on last night,” she said softly.  “You sure know how to hurt a girl, you know that?”  She smiled affectionately.

Mark smiled back at her.  “It’s a talent, I guess.  Too bad I can’t advertise.”

“I wouldn’t want you to do that,” she argued.  “Then I’d have to fight off the competition.  All the spanko girls would line up to sample your wares.”

Mark put his arm around her and they walked into the courthouse.  “Do you want to find a place to sit and wait?” he asked.

“I want to find a place to stand and wait,” Lindsey replied, smiling.

He looked at his watch.  “It’s ten minutes till nine.  Maybe we should go in.”  She nodded in agreement, and they entered the courtroom and found seats near the Plaintiff’s table.  Several people were already present.

Lindsey’s attorney came down the aisle and greeted her, shaking hands with Mark.  He escorted Lindsey to the Plaintiff’s table, where they both sat down.  A minute later, the Defendant and her attorney came down the far aisle and sat at the Defendant’s table.

After 12 minutes, a door near the judge’s bench opened and the bailiff ushered in the jury.  The jurors filed in and took their assigned seats.  The bailiff closed the door and moved to his table.  Two minutes later, he stood and announced loudly, “All rise.”  Everyone in the room rose to his feet as the judge entered and took his place on the bench.  Then everyone again sat.

The judge looked toward the jury and asked, “Madam Foreperson, has the jury reached a verdict?”

Juror number one, a middle-aged woman, stood and said, “We have, Your Honor.”

The judge indicated to the bailiff to get the piece of paper with the verdict written on it from the foreperson and bring it to the judge.  The bailiff did so, the judge read it and handed it back, and the bailiff then returned the paper to the foreperson.

“Madam Foreperson will please read the verdict.”

The Plaintiff, the Defendant, and both attorneys stood for the reading of the verdict.

The Foreperson announced, “We, the Jury, find in favor of the Plaintiff.”

The Judge then asked, “Madam Foreperson, have you assessed damages in this case?”

The Foreperson replied, “We have, Your Honor.  We, the Jury, assess damages in the amount of $50,000 to be awarded to the Plaintiff.”

“I thank the Jury for your service.  You are dismissed,” said the Judge.  “Court is adjourned.”

Lindsey shook her attorney’s hand and then walked to Mark.  They left the courtroom and walked out of the courthouse toward their cars.  Mark said, “This calls for a celebration, even more than your birthday.  We ought to go out to dinner again, with Mindy, Andrea, and Sherry.  Maybe even another celebration spanking.”

“Um, Mark?”  Lindsey looked at him.  “Can it wait a week?”

Spanking story entry #22 : The Little Wooden Bridge

Readers,

Don’t give up now – we’re down to just a few more entries in the  ‘Spanking Wish’ contest  …

Read on~

– Dana

 

**********

“The Little Wooden Bridge”

 

 

I stood at the top of the little wooden bridge and looked down into the cold,
dark water below. A few leaves and branches slowly drifted beneath me, then
for a moment the surface of the water was calm and flat. I straightened up and
looked around for a sign that someone might be watching, but I was alone. So
very alone. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a shiny quarter which I had
been saving for this moment. Then I leaned over the wooden railing, letting my
arm dangle above the water’s surface, the coin still clutched in my fist.
It seemed a bit silly to me to be doing this. I don’t know how much I believed in
magic and wishful incantations, but I know I wanted a spanking. Besides, this
was Dana’s idea. I closed my eyes and imagined my desire, my burning need and
then dropped the coin gently from my hand into the deep pond below. With a
little splash, it sunk and was gone.
I didn’t know what to do next. How was it supposed to happen? Would I
magically receive a call, inviting me over for a spanking? Not likely. Now I felt
even sillier for thinking this would work. But at least, I tried.
* * * * *
Dana lived next door to my uncle Ed, only a short walk from my apartment. I
visited my uncle often, to help out with little fix-up jobs around the house and
to help stockpile the wood for the coming winter. Dana was often outdoors
working in her garden, painting the little wooden fence that divided her
property from Uncle Ed’s, or just relaxing on her deck, sipping iced tea and
reading her book. Many times I would be working in the yard, and I would look
over and dream about those beautiful, firm legs….
Whenever she was there, I would make a point of making small talk and try to
get to know her better. Sometimes, Ed would invite her over and we would sit on
the patio in large, comfortable wicker chairs, and chat about everything and
nothing.
That’s when I learned she could spank.
I almost choked on my julep when she mentioned it in passing. My world went
dark and I thought I might pass out. I couldn’t focus.
“Nothing that a good spanking couldn’t fix”, she said.
We all laughed at the humorous little remark and the conversation continued.
However I became suddenly very flushed. I wanted her to repeat it again. And
again. Maybe just a couple more times.
We had been talking about customer service, more or less in general, and Uncle
Ed had mentioned how rude some of the service people in town had become. We
all agreed that many folks here in our community had become bored with their
jobs, and that customer appreciation no longer mattered. Ed thought about
boycotting a few of the local shops but Dana seemed to have a better solution.
So that was when I learned she was into spanking. Or at least she could be into
spanking. Or maybe I could convince her to “be into” spanking. Hopefully
spanking me, of course.
Dana was definitely a woman to be respected. She had become an important
figure in the community, with her social causes and political savvy. She had
character, was well educated, well-spoken and generous to a fault. But she was
not to be trifled with, never to be ignored and certainly, not ever to be talked
down to. And I would have to add, disobeyed. When she had been a teacher, I
imagine her students behaved themselves quite regularly. I could only imagine
the consequences of her disapproval.
One lazy summer afternoon, I came by Uncle Ed’s place to mow the lawn and I
saw Dana was out, cleaning some rugs. She was using the back of a large wooden
scrub brush to beat the dust and sand from a small floor mat, which had been
pinned to the clothesline. She was wailing on it full force, her left arm swinging
higher and higher in the air, tirelessly slamming into the dusty ol’ rug. She was
spanking the rug!
I guess she saw me standing there, sort of awestruck, frozen, and silent. At last
she stopped swinging the brush. She smiled and waved and then retrieved the
rug from the line and went into the house. Now, I wanted a spanking from her
more than ever!
I imagined myself over her firm lap, with my bare bottom exposed to the
sunlight, as she smacked my reddening cheeks with her brush. Of course, in my
dream it didn’t hurt. I was just lying there, across her thighs, smiling and
ontent. The birds were chirping, the wind rustled through the trees, and I was
happily getting spanked.
I told myself that I needed to find a way to talk to her, to bring it up. She had
always been so kind and friendly, surely if I asked her to spank me it would be
her neighbourly duty to oblige. Sort of like borrowing a cup of sugar. No big
deal, perfectly normal.
In reality, I would probably be too embarrassed to even ask for a cup of sugar.
I could never say the word spanking in polite company and I knew there was no
way I could ask this woman, a real friend of the family, to spank me. Forget it.
Keep dreaming. But she was very friendly, and easy to talk to. I often found
myself staring into her big brown eyes, absorbing her wisdom about life and the
pursuit of happiness. Then one day, she offered me some advice about getting
spanked.
Well, she didn’t really put it that way. And actually, I never really mentioned
spanking in any way. But she did have some advice and possibly a tactic to get
what I wanted out of life. She told me to make a wish. She told me she had gone
to the wooden bridge in the park on several occasions, and would drop a coin into
the pond below. She said she would often make a wish for a solution to a
problem that had been particularly elusive, and those wishes most often came
true. She laughed because she figured there must be a fortune lying on the
sandy bottom of the pond, for all of the wishes she had made.
That is why I went there; to wish for a spanking from Dana.
I let me arm dangle over the water’s surface, gently swinging back and forth. I
stared in the black, cold water, and noticed my reflection staring back at me. I
focused on the image of what I wanted, and imagined the feel of her hand as it
spanked my bottom, her firm thighs holding me steady, and the cracking echo of
the sound of flesh upon flesh. The coin fell from my finger tips and made a
gentle splash below. It quickly sank from view and the water’s surface was once
again calm and flat. Now I felt silly to have believed this would bring me
happiness, but I was determined to try everything to make it happen.
* * * * * * *
Some time had passed since that day on the little wooden bridge, and I had all
but forgotten about scheming to get a spanking. It had sort of fallen away from
my immediate thoughts, and I had begun to focus on “more important” things in
my life, like working and studying. But it is when you least expect it, without
warning, that those wishes can come true.
Uncle Ed had asked me to help Dana chop down a little ol’ tree that was leaning
up against her shed. It hadn’t grown very big – not more than two or three
inches thick at the base – and it had been dead for nearly two summers now.
Dana wanted it out, so she could replant and use the wood for her little stove
this winter.
It was a warm afternoon and I had been working in her yard since early morning,
nearly without a break. The tree was down at this point, and I was breaking up
the branches and tying bundles for easy stacking. I needed to take a break, and
I looked longingly to my empty glass on the picnic table for refreshment.
Instead, I sat for a moment in the shade to catch my breath.
The big wooden brush Dana had used earlier was lying on the armchair beside
me. My eyes were drawn to its smooth, worn surface. The long handle had
certainly been gripped many times by someone who could wield it firmly. The
once shiny lacquer finish had long since flaked away, and now the natural wood
surface was exposed to the elements. I held it in my hand and felt its heft. It
was definitely balanced to swing with one hand, built to last. I couldn’t help but
imagine this work-brush doing its work on me. I held it in one hand and smacked
it on my thigh, to get a feel for its potential. Even through my jeans, it left a
mighty sting. Imagine on my bare cheeks…? I was awash with emotions, barely
able to focus, feeling flushed with the thoughts of spanking yet again. I through
the brush back onto the cushion of the arm chair, stood up and turned away. I
had to get a hold of myself.
Taking a big breath, I walked back towards the log pile. I felt a different kind
of aching now, most probably due to the three glasses of lemonade I had
chugged since this morning. It had been several hours since I had gone to the
bathroom and now there was no holding on. Dana had said she would be out for
the day and I didn’t feel like trekking across the big yard back to Uncle Ed’s
house, so I found an alternative. I crept around towards the back of the shed
and looked around. I was just about hidden from Dana’s house and, tucked
between the bushes and the shed, no one could see me from the street or
towards Uncle Ed’s.
I undid my jeans and let them fall to my ankles. A cool breeze tickled the back
of my exposed thighs as I stood there in my white cotton underwear. I lowered
y briefs in front and let nature take its course, while I supported myself on
the side of the shed with my right hand.
I was only there for a moment but a moment was long enough.
When I was done, I zipped up and turned back to work. Looking over the
branches and woodpile, I didn’t expect to have more than another hour of work.
Just about ten minutes later Dana suddenly came out of the house, carrying a
tall glass of lemonade. She asked me how the job was going and how much longer
I would need to finish. I replied that the job was progressing smoothly and that
I was nearly finished. She smiled and replied, “Good.” She set the glass of
lemonade down on the table.
“I thought you might like a refreshment,” she smiled. “Since you just emptied
yourself on the bushes over there.” She waved towards the shed and back
bushes where I had just relieved myself. I began to blush. She turned to me and
said, “Come in and see me when you are done. We need to have a talk.”
Busted! She saw me. What did she see? How much? Oh, no. This was very
awkward.
I busied myself finishing up the bundles of branches and restacked the wood up
against the fence, just like she wanted. I glanced over at the glass of lemonade,
glistening in the sunshine of the weaning hours of the afternoon. I wasn’t
thirsty.
About an hour later I looked around the yard and decided I was finished. I
brushed off the bits of earth and sawdust from my jeans and t-shirt, and
turned to leave. Then I noticed the brush was gone. I had left it on one of the
big, comfy armchairs and now it was gone. My eyes darted around the yard to
see if Dana had simply moved it, or returned it to the hook on the back wall. No,
it was definitely gone.
I grabbed the tall glass of lemonade and dumped it in the bushes. I couldn’t
even take a sip. Then, I knocked on the back patio door to Dana’s house. It
wasn’t long before she came through the kitchen and slid open the glass door in
front of me.
“All done?” She asked. “Yes, Ma’am”. I replied. She gestured for me to come in.
“Nice,” she continued. “Come in for a minute. I need to talk to you.”
I stepped inside and crouched down to untie my boots. She stood above me with
her arms crossed, waiting for me to step out of them. As I stood, I noticed the
ig brush had been brought inside. The long handled work-brush was on the
kitchen table, beside the empty lemonade glass I had handed to Dana earlier. I
gulped in trepidation. She gestured for me to have a seat. I pulled out a wooden,
straight-backed kitchen chair and did as I was told. She stood before me with
her arms crossed.
“Did you do what I think you did outside?” She glared at me waiting for a
response. I couldn’t think of a single word to say. My face went flush with
warmth. I feigned ignorance.
“Do what?” I asked.
Dana stepped closer to me and looked at me square in the face.
“Did you pee in the bushes?” She raised her voice and was looking at me,
perplexed and frustrated.
I could only nod in confession.
A flurry of words and expletives flew from her lips, and she became more angry
than I had ever seen her before. She was ashamed of me and absolutely beside
herself with frustration, as to why I had not simply gone inside to use the
bathroom. I was mortified and ashamed.
At last she had had enough and was about to storm out of the room, when
abruptly she reach for my arm and stood me up. In an instant she was sitting in
the chair I had vacated and she turned me around.
“Happy to lower your jeans in public, hmm?” She began to fumble with the
button on my jeans. In a flash it was undone, and she began to yank them down.
However, much to my surprise, as she jerked my jeans down, so came my
underwear, in one fell swoop, and both were soon bunched at my knees.
“We can’t have you peeing in public”, she scolded. “Maybe this will help you
remember”.
With that, she flung me over her knee.
It all happened in slow motion: My pants down; over her knee; her right arm
gripping me tightly; her left hand raining down on my bare cheeks. There was
that crack! that I had imagined; the sound of flesh on flesh smartly and firmly.
It definitely hurt a lot more than I expected. I don’t know how many she gave
me, but I sure know I couldn’t count. I could only think about the pain in my
ackside, as I tried to twist from her spanks. It was hopeless to try to avoid
those spanks, and I laid upon her lap, with my bare bum reddening under her
hand, apologizing and pleading.
Then suddenly, it stopped. I thought it was over and I tried to get up, but Dana
was not ready yet. From the corner of my eye, I saw her reach for the big
brush on the kitchen table. Now, I was very much doubting my ability to take a
spanking with that implement.
“You know,” she softly spoke to me… “You had better be careful what you wish
for…” I couldn’t understand. How did she…?
But then, Dana knows.
She just does.

Contest Entry #21 : One Wish

 

Here we go!

The last handful of the  ‘Spanking Wish’ contest  entries.

Enjoy~

– Dana

 

**********

“One Wish”

  

This is a true story about a guy named Reed and his girlfriend, Amelie. I think it’s true. I heard it all from Reed, and why would he lie? It’s actually pretty hard to believe. Let’s just go with it’s a true story.

So Reed and Amelie were driving through Arizona on their way back to Southern California. Reed had a rusted blue Ford pickup he inherited from his old man, and on this particular day in July, somewhere between the desert and nowhere, it was getting low on gas.

“Get out the map, Am.” He turned his head to see his girlfriend looking straight ahead, arms folded against her chest. “I know you’re pissed, baby. Sulking isn’t going to get us home any faster.”
She didn’t move a muscle, but she cursed at him. I should explain here that Amelie was not the girl you’d bring home to mother. “Get it yourself.”
“I’m driving. It’s in the glove compartment.”
“So are your brains.”
“Come on, Baby, don’t be like that.” Such were their conversations. Knowing Reed at the time, he was looking and sounding apologetic. Trust me, he was really into this girl.
With a sudden movement, she raked open the glove compartment, grabbed the Rand McNally easy-fold, full-color map of the Western United States, and slapped it down onto Reed’s denimed thigh. With a sigh, he pulled the truck to a stop, still running, off the side of the highway.

As the long cloud of dust slowly dissipated behind them, he saw on the map it would be best if they turned up on 347. He told her he thought they could make it.
She kicked the dashboard. “Well, isn’t that special.” She finally turned to look at him. He noted the shine of sweat on her forehead under damp strands of pretty, multi-colored hair. “You mean we could be stuck out here? I told you we should have had your dad wire the money.” She cursed the truck again, its lack of air conditioning, and her poor luck in choosing boyfriends.
They had been over this before. “It’s not like going to the ATM.” He explained carefully. “I hate asking him for money, Am. You know how it is. The credit card? The speeding tickets?”
She cursed again. She was tired of him throwing that in her face.
“I know, baby, it’s not all your fault. We’ll be home soon, and everything’ll be cool, I promise.”

They did make it to a gas station, two pumps and a little gift shop off a road McNally must have missed. Reed wasn’t sure what he’d do if not for that luck, but maybe he was due. In the shop he went to pay for the gas while Amelie found the rest room. Behind the counter an old woman stood wearing a shawl, and around her dark head were pretty strings of beads. “Hello, Ma’am. Sure is a scorcher today,” he said, holding out a crisp B. Franklin extracted from his wallet. She didn’t take the money. She didn’t move. Was she made of wood? The woman was studying Reed’s face. He was a little spooked by it, but he thought he saw compassion in her eyes. She held up a finger then disappeared through a door behind the register.

When the woman returned, she held out her palm. “This is for you,” she said. He took the object from her as if it might break at his touch. “What is this?” he asked. “It is very old,” she said. “From the Navaho.”
He could see it was a silver and turquoise bracelet. “Sorry, it’s very nice.” He tried to give it back to her.
“It brings good luck,” she said, as if that should change his mind.
Did this sales pitch ever work? He wanted to ask her if he looked that stupid, but instead he smiled. He told her he would love to buy it, but that he just couldn’t afford it right then.
She reached for the money in his other hand. “One hundred. The gas and the charm,” she said, nodding at the bracelet. “It is worth far more, I assure you.”
Reed studied the piece of Indian jewelry. The silver needed polishing. Maybe it was only because the turquoise matched the color with which Amelie had streaked her hair, or that she would probably love the thing at least as soon as she got over her latest snit, but he wanted to buy it for her.
“You can make a single wish,” she said.
“Just one?” Reed smiled again at the old woman. He heard the sound of the door behind him. Am was cursing again. She wanted to know if Reed planned to spend the whole day in this hell hole.
He wished his girlfriend wasn’t such a spoiled brat.

As it turned out, Reed was right. Once they got home and settled, Amelie loved her new bracelet. In fact, she was wearing it a week later when she wanted to talk to him about something. It was strange, really. They were on the couch having just watched another rerun of Twilight. Reed was busy kissing his girlfriend on the neck, whispering in her ear, preparing to lead her to the bedroom. A typical night would involve her acting bored and hard to get before deigning to be the girl of his dreams. That night she was different. Reed was worried because the way she was acting could only be a sign of bad news. Her mouth said she wanted to tell him something, but her eyes clearly did not. He had never seen her so unsure of anything.

“I met someone online,” she said.
“Oh.” His heart felt like a bag of coal.
“It’s not what you think.” She pinched his leg reassuringly. Whatever it was, it was too hard for her to talk about.
“How about just telling me who you met?” She told him she had met a woman. An older woman. Disturbing images flashed before his eyes. He couldn’t make out what they were. “How did you meet?”
“I was curious about something. I googled around.”
He had no idea where she was going with this. He asked her what she was curious about.
“First I have to tell you something.” She was biting at the ring through her lower lip. She appeared to be studying the tattoos on her ankle and the one on the top of her milky foot. “I know I’m not always the best girlfriend.” He heard her mumble under her breath. “I know you’re pissed sometimes.”
He told her he loved her, that that was all that mattered.
“I know you do.” She glanced up at him quickly, then back to her feet. “Admit it, though. You’d change me if you could.”
He palmed her cheek to gently turn her face to his and assured her that she was the sweetest brat he’d ever known.
“What about the debt I got us in? The reckless shit I do?”
“We don’t need to get into this, baby.” He tried to kiss her.
“Reed, stop. I looked for someone online because I need to be punished.”

The room they were in was a vacuum. The two floated in the silence of space.

He asked her what she meant by punished.
“Ms K is a professional disciplinarian.”
“Huh?”
They continued to float, around them the universe spinning slowly.
“I can’t explain this so it makes sense to you,” she said. “I don’t really understand it. I got to thinking last week, and I knew what I had to do.”
“Is this safe, Am?” He was afraid to know what she was actually talking about.
She told him she was going to meet Ms K the next day at Starbucks so they could talk more.

Two days later they had an appointment for something crazy. Reed pulled the pickup to the curb in front of a well-manicured ranch house in the San Fernando Valley. Neither he nor his girlfriend had said much on the drive through the basin. Reed was on edge. Amelie could not seem to get comfortable on the worn seat on the passenger side, and she was looking more pale, if that was possible. Streaks of pink had been added to her hair.

“Reed, you have to promise me.” She pinned him to his spot with sober eyes. “Whatever happens in there,” she nodded at the ranch house, “you have to sit quiet and just watch. Can you do that?”
“I don’t know. You won’t tell me what’s really going on.”
“I can’t. Promise me.”
He sighed, rubbed his rough face with two hands. He hadn’t shaved in two days. She asked him if he trusted her. He felt he had no real choice in the matter.

So Reed played along. He shook the woman’s hand, partook in the introductions, and sat through the preliminary small talk. What do you say to a disciplinarian? Ushered into a room set up as a home office, they were asked to take two seats at a large desk. The scene reminded him of the time he and his girlfriend had tried getting a loan at their local bank. Despite her conservative retro-attire, Ms K looked younger than expected, tall and attractive. Reed had pictured a middle-aged woman. Still she was Amelie’s polar opposite. The contrast between the two females was strikingly evident. Head-to-head, one could believe they were a starchy PTA mom and her wild child teen.

“Is this how you dress for an important meeting?” Ms K had focused on Amelie, her tone shifting abruptly to scolding. “You’re not out for a night of clubbing.”

His girlfriend was gothic punk. Lip and septum rings were shining. Reed felt a moment of amusement. Had this all been staged? He was aware of the idea of role-playing. Now that he thought of it, Ms K was dressed rather odd. An apron with pictures of cupcakes all over it seemed a bit much. He had noticed the tattoos on her ankles. The 1950’s housewife look and attitude had to be affected.

“This is what I like to wear,” Amelie said. “You didn’t say anything about a dress code.”
“I assumed you were mature enough to know better, but then the choices you’ve been making in your life are what bring you here today, aren’t they?”

That was to become the topic for discussion. Ms K was cool, calm, and collected as she talked from a list of offenses that read like a rap sheet of adolescent rebellion and irresponsibility. Public indecency… Ecstasy… The party she threw in their rec room that got them thrown out of their condo. Reed knew full well that his girlfriend was a free spirit, but when actually confronted with an itemized accounting, he was suddenly struck by the fact that Amelie Jane Adams did have a problem. The sobering thought was that changes in her life were needed. Could this nice cupcake lady seated imperially across the desk from them help in any meaningful way? What were her qualifications?

If you think this story is strange so far, believe me, this is the part you’re going to be shaking your head. After discussing Amelie’s bad behavior, Ms K informed her that things were, indeed, going to change. It was time Amelie learned to be a proper young lady.

“There is a bathroom down that hall,” she said. “You will get out of those clothes, wash your face and come back here to this office when you are finished. Is that clear?”

He expected she would be laughing. Certainly she would have a suggestion for where Ms K could get psychiatric help, but what Amelie did was say, “This is stupid,” got up from her chair and walked to the door. With mouth open, Reed watched his obedient girlfriend leave the room, then listened to the echo of combat boots on wood flooring as they clattered down the hall.

“Are you okay?” Ms K’s attention was now on Reed. Her eyes had softened. “Amelie tells me you’re not sure about this.”
“About what?” He didn’t want to sound confrontational. “Are you guys playing some kind of game?”
“You can think of it that way if you like. It is not going to be a game for your friend.”
Reed didn’t understand. “Can I ask you something? Why did you get into… what you do?”
“I enjoy everything about it.”
He just wanted to be sure Am was going to be alright. Ms K assured him that she would be fine. She said, “Throughout history, countless boys and girls have not only survived this form of discipline, but were better off for having experienced it.”

His mind abuzz, he noticed that Amelie had slipped back into the room and was standing behind the chair next to him. Her silent entry was aided by the fact that she wore no clothes to rustle, no shoes to clatter. She had nothing on but a pair of small, white underpants and her silver and turquoise bracelet.

“Come with me, young lady.” Ms K had Amelie’s upper right arm firmly in grip and was marching her back out the door she had just entered. In a trance, Reed followed behind. Down the dim hall they went, silhouettes against the light ahead. Was his girlfriend resisting? He couldn’t tell for sure. Her feet were reluctant, as if she were being forced to keep up with the quicker pace Ms K was setting. The sight of Amelie under the control of this powerful woman stunned his senses. He saw a girl exposed and fragile. He was aroused.

His girlfriend had been marched into the kitchen, a clean, ordered room filled with yellow sunshine streaming through a large bay window. In the corner next to the stove was a thigh-high wooden stool that Ms K dragged scraping the floor into the center of the room. Resting on the seat of the stool was a hairbrush. Reed described it as old and worn. The bristles appeared to be backed by a substantial amount of dark, solid wood. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do, so he sat at the small breakfast table facing the scene to be played out before him.

If you had seen Reed sitting at that kitchen table, I don’t know what you’d have been thinking. The best I can describe it is he looked confused, like all sound he heard was coming from an old radio, where everything around him had suddenly turned black, white, and grainy. As Ms K, seated on the stool, was guiding Amelie up and over her lap, and then tugging down the little white pants, pasted on Reed’s face was a bewildered smile. “Where do bad girls get punished?” Ms K asked. If Amelie knew, she did not care to answer. Reed knew. As you might expect, he was a big fan of his girl’s body. He loved her butt. Her ass… her booty… you know, the words used to identify that area of the anatomy. That wasn’t the word Ms K used. Reed could not help but grin because this girl’s discipline was going to be a spanking on her bottom. Her bare bottom.

A spanking? The more specific term for what Amelie was to receive that afternoon is a hairbrush spanking. Her boyfriend had no time to think about what that could mean before Ms K was in the process of administering the punishment. Before Reed could be fearful of the potential for pain, he recognized that Amelie’s disciplinarian was taking it easy. He was relieved to see that the inherent weight of that hard round object was being applied with only quick snaps of the wrist, what looked to be no more than a child’s punishment, though the reaction from Am indicated that she was feeling the effect, a stinging to inspire a string of breathy exclamations and some restless squirming. Reed was loving it. He thought she was just as cute as she could be, a naughty little girl over her Mommy’s cupcake decorated knee.

When the spanking stopped, Amelie was sporting two bright red spots on her white skin, each reflecting the shape of the hairbrush. Ms K scolded her again for her very bad behavior, making certain the reason for this old-fashioned lesson was clearly understood. Proper young ladies are well-mannered. They are modest. They do not use foul language. They are not excessively self-indulgent. They do not smoke or drink or ingest harmful substances. They respect other people’s property. They obey all laws, and above all, they are kind and considerate of others, especially their boyfriends.

Reed was enjoying this immensely. That was about to change. Amelie’s disciplinarian informed the room that when girls have been very bad, they lose their sitting privileges. The hairbrush was raised, and in the blink of an eye, a girl was getting her first real spanking, the one she would never forget. Reed was startled right out of his complacency, his notion that he was witness to a charming little game. The color in the kitchen had turned cooler. The sunflowers watching from the window sill were grim. Ms K had warned him. No game. She was entirely focused, peppering a spoiled brat’s upturned nakedness with snaps of wrist much sharper than before, the sound of hard wood to delicate flesh now lush with corporeal resonance. His girlfriend quickly wanted no part of what was happening to her as evidenced by the yelping, the kicking, and what appeared to be the sincere effort to wriggle and twist off of her disciplinarian’s apron. Ms K simply held fast, her assault on that raised behind relentless. Reed didn’t know what to do. He was being pushed and pulled by two opposing forces. One insisted that he yell for it to stop, and if that didn’t save his sweetheart from her agony, then he must get up from his chair and stop it. The other was Am’s own voice. Whatever happens, he must not interfere.

We can never read her mind, but Amelie was probably hoping her boyfriend had forgotten any promises made since leaving their apartment that day. She was acting like she needed to be rescued. The way it worked out is that the spanking ended without the need for heroics. Ms K was soon satisfied, and that was that. Reed watched his wet-faced girl helped down, two palms all consumed with rubbing as if they might smother a fire. The color inflicted could have inspired a Baskin-Robbins flavor of the month. Reed remembered to breathe. His heart was tripping, but all that remained were the hugs. Amelie was forgiven. Her slate was clean.

On the passenger side in Reed’s pickup, she was more uncomfortable on her seat going home than she had been on the way to see her disciplinarian, but that’s not to say she was unhappy. On the contrary, Am was giddy. Once they got over some initial embarrassment, an awkwardness they felt when finally alone after what had happened, she was more relaxed and talkative than he could remember her having been in a long time. I’m not saying she was a different person. I’m not saying that in the days ahead she would behave like Ms K’s proper young lady. Amelie was created by nature a brat, however, she was no longer an unaccountable one. She would make a better effort at being good. After all, there were consequences to consider because very naughty girls got taken back to see Ms K, who always had ways to induce sorrow and shame for misbehavior. It was during this time that the lightbulb came on for Reed. One evening in a fit of inspiration, he provided his cranky, ill-mannered girl with his own attempt at sound traditional discipline.

It was soon after that, I was standing as best man at their wedding. Aside from the groom himself, I would bet I was the only person in the over one hundred gathered who knew the whole story behind Amelie’s bracelet. The bride with neon pink hair and matching pink sneakers was the girl everyone expected, but I understood that the vows taken were more than just platitudes. You may not be buying it, but I watched the exchange of rings and the groom kissing the bride. I listened to the judge’s reading of the Navaho Wedding Blessing.

Now you have lit a fire and that fire should not go out.
The two of you now have a fire that represents love,
understanding and a philosophy of life.
It will give you heat, food, warmth and happiness.
The new fire represents a new beginning –
a new life and a new family.
The fire should keep burning; you should stay together.
You have lit the fire for life, until old age separates you.

I saw it in their eyes. Reed’s one wish had become the best of luck for both of them.

 

Spanking story entry #20 : The Resort

 

Boys and Girls,

The next time I decide to give a whole bunch of stuff away, remind me how long it took to edit and post all the  ‘Spanking Wish’ contest  entries. Wow, you guys and gals can write!

Enjoy~

– Dana

 

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“The Resort”   

Looking past the canopy bed, its beautiful peach satin drapes neatly placed over all four posts and towards the babbling creek running throughout property, Karen began imagining herself at The Resort. Not a resort, The Resort.

Every night for the last month Karen pictured herself at a fictional specialized private resort nestled in the Santa Monica Mountains just passed Malibu and only a few miles from its famed Pepperdine University. The Resort she imagined herself at wasn’t a spa or family vacation spot, it was one strictly for adults; adults with a very special kink….spanking. The Resort was an all inclusive spanking venue, a small piece of heaven for the most discerning true spanko.

Hearing the creek babble outside her window, looking out the bedroom balcony sliding glass doors, closing her eyes and wishing as hard as she possibly could, “Please, please, please make The Resort real and my home away from home!” Karen’s eyes closed as she began to drift off to sleep.

_________________________
Awakening, Karen found her bottom to be sore as she rolled over from her side onto her bared backside. She recognized her own canopy bed and the peach satin draping she’d selected for it two years ago, however, everything else was different. She wasn’t in her condo at all.

Getting out of bed she found herself completely naked, but that’s not how she went to bed. A glimpse in the mirror confirmed her suspension; she’d been spanked. “What the…….?”

A soft plush full length robe and sleepers were set neatly across the arm-less chair in the bedroom. Karen quickly put on the robe, noticing a gold monogram with the initials TR on the upper right side. Sliding on the slippers she began walking towards the door of what most certainly was a small hotel suite, wondering where could she be. Nearing the door to the suite, Karen began to hear familiar sounds, those of a bared bottom being spanked; actually, more like a few bared bottoms being spanked.

Opening the door to confirm her suspicions she found a woman, spread over a man’s lap getting a full and powerful spanking. Little moans of och, ohhhh and apologizes came from the woman. Her legs kicking wildly and her light brown backside was rapidly turning a very bright pink. The man was seated in an arm-less chair identical to the one in Karen’s room. She began looking down the hallway and noticing the art work on the walls, they were all of men and women in various spanking poses and positions; all receiving spankings. This was just as had pictured The Resort in her dreams, exactly what she’d wished for before closing her eyes to sleep.

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A few doors down was a fully naked man over the knee of another man and receiving what seemed to be a long hard and extended paddling. Karen was becoming fascinated by the paddling and the man’s near silence, other than a few moans and grunts as his naked bottom took smack and smack. She nearly began to cry, almost feeling the pain he must have been experiencing. Placing her hands over her bottom, Karen began rubbing her sore backside as it seemed to be getting warmer and warmer just from watching two very deliberate spankings.

“How can this be? How can this possibly be?”

“Karen Welten!” A stern voice from the man spanking the woman just outside Karen’s door yelled out.
“What are you doing? I spanked you and put you to bed for the night, but it looks as though you’ve not quite learned your lesson yet, have you young lady?”

Startled Karen shot back, “What are you talking about, and who on earth are you?”

Looking at the spankee draped over his knee the man stopped spanking her, gave her now bright red bottom a few rubs and assisted her off his lap. They smiled at each other.

“Wow David, you’re still the best.” The woman then headed a few doors down the hallway and into a room.

“Karen Welten, you don’t recall being rude and disrespectful towards me and the staff when we arrived?”

“When we arrived? What are you taking about? What’s your name, David?”

David stood up and began walking towards Karen. “I guess you’re being silly now, aren’t you Karen? Okay, I’ll play along. I’m David Sterns Jackson and we’ve been dating for the last six months, as if you didn’t know. Remember our chatting from the Spanking Personal site for nearly 2 months, meeting and hitting it off right away?”

Karen looked puzzled.

“I think this should refresh your memory.” With both a command and gentleness in his action, in what seemed like one quick move, Karen’s robe came up and David had her bent over and secured in his grasp. His hand came down on her exposed bottom with ten quick and commanding smacks to each cheek.

“Now that I have your attention, lets see if I can get your memory back.”

David Sterns Jackson began leading her to the spanking chair and Karen was in full submission, nearly gliding herself across his lap.

“I’m sorry I acted naughty when we arrived, David. I’m sorry for playing that foolish little game with you just now. I won’t act this way again.”

“Well, I’m just going to make sure you don’t, young lady.” His hand began rubbing her bottom as he
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viewed the results from that earlier spanking with pride for his skills and a growing excitement from the view of Karen’s bared bottom and her ease in getting right into place.

“You’re going to be here a little while, you under stand that don’t you.”

“Yes, sir.” Her mind was now beginning to wander and a slight bit of embarrassment brushed over her as she lay exposed to anyone who should pass their way. The two men were now standing to the side of David and Karen, with the spanked man dressed in a resort robe, like the one now in a puddle at Karen’s side. David had her in a very modest position, legs together right across his knee. However, he knew very well, when the spanking gets harder and her legs get going she won’t stay that way.

Over and over and over and over David’s hand began to land swat after swat after swat. First a round of ten swats to each cheek and a nice soft rubbing of her soreness. Next a round of twenty to each cheek with more rubbing. As David was beginning the round of thirty to each cheek, Karen could no longer hold herself back and began crying out loud, spreading her legs for all to see her womanhood and kicking profusely. Though it all, David remained on task.

At this time the hallway was filled with resort guest taking in the show David and Karen were providing for them. Some people attempting to move in for a closer view, however, as The Resort rules stated, they were careful not to fully obstruct others.

By the time David assisted Karen off his lap nearly eight minutes had passed. He placed Karen’s head on his chest, allowing her to cry out the pain, embarrassment and joy from her experience.

Kissing him and then beginning assisted into the robe he’d removed from her, Karen began to notice the crowd she managed to have attracted and a bright smile came to her now tear stained face.

“Alright, into the room so I can lotion that sore bottom of yours.”

“Yes, sir. Sorry folks, as you hear I have to go now.” As Karen walked into the mini suite applause began to ring and echo off the walls of the resort.

Spanking story entry #19 : Wish Upon a Star

 

Everyone,

It’s obvious that none of us is going to get a thing done today, so let’s just read all these great entries to the ‘Spanking Wish’ contest  .

Enjoy!

– Dana

 

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“Wish Upon a Star”

“Catch a falling star, and put it in your pocket. Never let it fade away. Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket. Save it for a rainy day.”
The lyrics from the old song by Petty Como ran through my head as I sat by the lake behind my aunt’s cabin watching the meteor shower. It was early August and my father had sent me to my aunt for the last month of summer before I returned to college. I often felt unwanted by my father since my mother had passed away in a car accident a few years before, and my aunt and I had hardly talked since I arrived.
I hugged my knees to my chest and finally let a few tears fall. I was tired of feeling alone. I took a deep breath and whispered “I wish there was someone who loved me and who wasn’t afraid to show it, even if that means being disciplined when I deserve it,” into the stillness as another meteor fell to earth. As I looked up into the night sky, the stars appeared to wink at me. “That’s weird,” I thought, and curled up in my blanket, falling peacefully asleep under the stars.
~
Several hours later I awoke to the sounds of the birds chirping and the sight of the sun rising over the lake. It was breathtaking. I slowly stretched and sat up. I hadn’t meant to stay out all night, and slept better than I had in months. I brushed out my wavy, auburn hair with my fingers and pulled part of it back, securing it with the elastic band from around my wrist. My hair fell a few inches bellow my shoulders. I stood, brushing off my white sundress, and shook out my blanket before folding it. It was early, but it was already 75 degrees at least.
I walked towards the cabin and went in the side door, closing it quietly behind me. I walked quietly up the stairs towards my room. I wasn’t trying to sneak in, but didn’t want to be responsible for waking my aunt up. As I reached the top of the stairs, I saw that it was too late for that.
“Where have you been, Rebecca Noel?” It had been years since anyone had used my first and middle name, and I instantly felt nervous.
“Hi, Aunt Kate,” I said swallowing and forced myself to smile, “I was down by the lake. I fell asleep watching the meteor shower. It was amazing!”
“Do you have any idea what time it is?!”
“No, I don’t. I left my phone in here. I woke up to the birds singing and the sunrise.”
“It’s a little after 7,” she said coolly, “and you are just now coming home after being out ALL NIGHT!”
“So? I’ve been here the whole time, just outside is all. What’s the big deal?” As soon as the question was out of my mouth, I realized I’d walked directly into her trap. I was in trouble, and there was no way I was going to talk my way out of it.
“What’s the big deal?! I didn’t know where you were! I have been worried about you since I saw your door open and that you were gone late last night!”
“Why would you be worried about me? You’ve barely talked to me since I’ve been here!” I snapped bitterly. A look of pain crossed Aunt Kate’s face. I hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but wasn’t sorry I had either.
Aunt Kate stood, and at 5’6” towered over my 5’2” frame. She was petite with shoulder length auburn hair and piercing green eyes. After looking at me evenly for a minute she walked over and hugged me. I wanted to get away from her, but found myself relaxing into her arms after a minute.
“Oh, Becca. I’m sorry. You coming here brought back many memories of your mother…my sister. You are so much like her! It’s been hard for me to process that. I didn’t mean to shut you out.”
“It’s fine. I’m used to it. Dad always finds a way to get rid of me since mom died. Boarding school, college, going away on business when I’m home from school…” I hadn’t talked about what happened at home since Mom died and couldn’t stop myself from crying. I had long since buried my emotions and learned to always put on a happy face around others. It was what was expected of me.
“No, it’s not okay, Becca. You need family, and so do I. It’s not okay for me to shut you out after you bring back so many wonderful, and a few painful memories.” She stopped hugging me and held me and held me at arm’s length, “and it’s not okay for you to put on a happy face all the time. It really is okay for you to just be okay.” I nodded.
Aunt Kate guided me to the couch and we both sat down. “I have an idea. You don’t have to say anything now; I just want you to think about it.”
“Okay,” I said nodding again.
“When school starts again in the fall, you can live with me at my house in the city instead of student housing. It’s only 10 minutes from campus, and I think it would do us both a great deal of good to be with family.”
“I’ll think about it,” I said nodding. I couldn’t help but smile a little. I liked the idea. I was used to living with roommates, but wasn’t sure how much I wanted to be with family. I liked my freedom, and wasn’t sure I was ready to give it up.
“Now about last night and this morning…I was really worried about you! I had no idea where you were, who you were with, or what you were doing. It wasn’t until the sun started to come up that I saw what I thought was probably you sleeping by the lake.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know I needed permission when I was still here,” I just barely stopped myself from rolling my eyes. “I would have asked permission if I had planned to go somewhere.”
“First of all, be careful with your tone, young lady. I’m going to tell you right now that being sarcastic with me is a very poor life choice. Second, if you go anywhere at night you do need to ask, and I probably would have said yes if you had asked. This is a fairly safe area right now, but there are often times when coyotes roam and there are times when it isn’t safe for you to be out at night alone.”
“Yes ma’am,” I said nodding. “I understand.”
“Good girl. Now, since you did stay out all night without permission. I think it’s only fair that you are punished for it.”
“What? You’re going to ground me?” I said incredulously.
“No, I’m going to spank you.” My mouth dropped open in shock. “Close your mouth. You’re not a fish.” I quickly closed it again. “It’s going to hurt, but will be over with a lot faster than a grounding. It will also allow you to really cry and release those emotions you’ve bottled up for far too long, but only if you’re open to that. You’ll feel a lot better after it’s over than you do now.”
“But I’m too old to be spanked…” I said weakly. I really didn’t have a good argument as to why I shouldn’t be spanked, and I knew it.
“Oh, honey. You will never be too old or too big to be spanked. Now, over you go,” Aunt Kate said, grabbing my left arm, and pulled me over her lap. My upper body rested comfortably over her lap while my legs dangled behind me, my toes just barely brushing the floor. I took a deep breath. I couldn’t explain why, but this felt right. Aunt Kate firmly rubbed my bottom for a minute, and then raised her hand, bringing it down quickly with a sharp smack on my right cheek. She raised her hand and brought it down onto my waiting bottom over and over again. The sting was only mild at first, but after a few minutes my entire bottom was warm and stinging.
Aunt Kate paused as she raised the lower hem of my white sundress and draped it over my back. She firmly rubbed her hand over my pale blue cotton panties for a minute before resuming my spanking. The swats felt more intense than they had over my dress, especially when they landed on the bare skin bellow my panties, but I still felt relaxed. A few minutes later, Aunt Kate put her hand in the upper waistband of my panties and began to pull them down. Without being told, I raised my hips to make it easier for her. Although my bottom was stinging, the whole thing felt right to me.
“Good girl, Becca,” Aunt Kate said, firmly rubbing my bottom. Without saying another word, Aunt Kate raised her hand and resumed spanking me. I thought my dress and panties hadn’t offered much protection, but quickly found out how mistaken I was as the first swats landed on my now exposed bottom. She alternated fast and slow hard swats. It hurt, but wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. My bottom was red and warm when Aunt Kate finally stopped.
“Alright, let’s get down to business,” Aunt Kate said picking up a thin wooden paddle from the table next to her. It was about the size of a ping pong paddle, and was lavender with purple violets painted on one side.
“That’s pretty, how bad can it be?” I thought, as the paddle made its ascent. A second later the paddle hit my bottom with a loud SLAP! There was an intense sting on the surface of my right cheek where the paddle landed.
“Ow!” I cried out, inhaling sharply.
There wasn’t time to dwell on it though as the paddle was already making its rapid descent and hit my left cheek with another loud SLAP.
“Ah!” I said and grabbed the couch cushion. I wanted to reach back and protect my bottom from the paddle, but instinctively knew that was a bad idea.
“Keep breathing,” Aunt Kate said bring down the paddle onto my waiting bottom again. I nodded and forced myself to take a few deep breaths.
Aunt Kate started slowly at first, but quickly picked up the tempo. Just when I would get used to it, she would change her angle or intensity. Within a few minutes my bottom was on fire, and a few tears stung my eyes. She landed a few dozen swats on my sit spot, the point where the lower curve of my bottom meets the upper thighs, and I squirmed and kicked my legs involuntarily.
“Stay still,” Aunt Kate said, delivering a stinging swat to my right upper thigh.
“I’m trying!”
“Uh huh,” she said smacking my left upper thigh.
I yelped. “Please stop! It really hurts!”
“I know,” Aunt Kate said with a laugh. “It’s supposed to. That’s how I know I’m getting through to you.”
“Okay, one, that laugh was scary, and two, you are! I won’t go out without your permission, especially at night!”
“Good, I’m glad to hear it,” she said putting down the paddle and picked up the round wood-backed hairbrush that was resting on the table next to her. “But I will be the judge of what you deserve, and when you’ve learned your lesson, young lady!” She punctuated her statement with a dozen hard swats from the brush. I cried out as a fresh set of tears stung my eyes.
“Yes ma’am,” I said softly.
Over and over the brush landed on my already sore backside. I couldn’t decide whether I preferred the brush over the paddle. In ways it was better, as the sting didn’t just stay on the surface of my bottom, but went deeper. In ways it was worse, as the pain was concentrated in a much smaller area than when she used the paddle. Aunt Kate delivered dozens of stinging swats from the brush in rapid succession. I squirmed and tried to get away from the relentless brush. She was clearly experienced in giving spankings though, and held me tightly against her. She thoroughly covered every inch of my bottom with the brush, and after a few minutes I stopped struggling and let the tears come.
“Good girl, Becca,” Aunt Kate said without letting up. She continued to spank me hard for several minutes before finally putting down the brush. “Good girl,” she said as she spanked me with her hand again. After several minutes of slow, medium hard swats she stopped and rubbed my back and bottom. I took slow, deep breaths and noticed how relaxed I was.
“I’m proud of you, Becca. You handled that very well.”
“Thank you,” I said quietly.
“You’re welcome. Unfortunately for you though, we’re not quite done yet.”
“What?”
“That was the spanking for staying out all night without permission. We still have to deal with your sarcastic tone, and snapping at me.”
“But…”
“Don’t argue with me unless you want to make things worse for yourself.” It was clear from her tone that she meant it.
“Yes ma’am,” I said quietly.
“Good girl. You’re learning fast. Stand up and bend over the back of the chair with your hands resting on the seat.”
“Yes ma’am,” I said pushing myself up from the couch, stepped out of my panties, and did what I was told.
Aunt Kate stood and picked up a belt that had been sitting on the table next to her. I had been spanked a few times before, but never with a belt. I knew it was going to hurt, and was really nervous. “I’m going to go easy on you this time. As long as you stay in position, and don’t try to avoid the belt, you’ll get 10 for each offence,” she said folding the belt in half.
“Yes ma’am,” I said quietly as she folded the bottom hem of my sundress over my back again.
Aunt Kate moved over to my right side and gently rubbed my low back. “This is going to hurt quite a bit. Grab onto the edge of the seat if you need to.”
I grabbed the front of the chair. There was an audible whoosh as the belt sailed through the air and hit my bottom with a loud SLAP! There was an intense pain covering my bottom where the belt landed and I inhaled sharply. It felt like I had just stung by dozens of bees.
“Ow!” I cried out, and kicked my left leg involuntarily in an effort to cope with the pain.
“Keep that foot down if you don’t want extra,” Aunt Kate said tapping my foot.
Again the belt sailed through the air and hit my bottom with a loud SLAP that was terrifying to hear. The intense sting that followed wasn’t any better.
“Yes ma’am,” I said quietly after taking a deep breath. I gripped the chair hard and focused on breathing.
After 10 strokes Aunt Kate moved over to my left side. The belt landed hard on my bottom and I barely resisted the urge to kick my foot up in an attempt to stop the barrage. After the next hard stroke of the belt I started crying softly. I didn’t stop crying until after she had delivered the last eight strokes.
“Good girl, Becca.” Aunt Kate said rubbing my back and bottom gently. She set the belt down on the table, put some lotion in her hand and rubbed it into my now very sore bottom. She helped me stand up slowly, hugged me and rubbed my back until I stopped crying.
“Are you going to go out without my permission again?” she asked looking at me.
“No ma’am,” I said, shaking my head. I thought it was a little ridiculous that I had to ask for permission to leave the cabin, but also knew I wasn’t in any position to argue the point.
“Are you going to be sarcastic with me again?”
“Probably…but I’m going to try not to.”
A look of amusement crossed Aunt Kate’s face. She laughed as she pulled me close to her, raised the back of my dress, and spanked me with her hand five times. “I certainly can’t fault you for being honest, but I will let you know right now, if you get sarcastic with me when we’re talking about something serious, there will be serious consequences! If we’re messing around, feel free, but you’ll still probably find yourself facing the floor for awhile.”
“Fair enough.”
“How do you feel?” Aunt Kate asked sitting down on the couch and pulled me down next to her. I squirmed uncomfortably. She laughed.
“Um, I don’t know. I think it’s the first time since mom died that I haven’t been in control of or responsible for anything that was happening to me. It was scary, but was kind of a relief at the same time. I don’t know if that makes sense.”
“It does.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Why did you decide to spank me?”
“Intuition mostly. I wasn’t sure if I was going to spank you, but when you snapped at me, that showed me that you’re really just a hurt little girl who was forced to grow up too soon. You’ve be too strong for too long. There are many just like you who find it relaxing to not be in control of things for a time, and I had the feeling that was exactly what you needed.”
“Is it going to happen again?”
Aunt Kate took a deep breath and looked at me. “If you do something dangerous or stupid, absolutely. Other than that, only if you want me to.”
“Yes ma’am,” I said with a small smile.
Aunt Kate reached out and hugged me. “I love you, Becca.”
“I love you, Aunt Kate, and thank you.”
“You are very welcome, Becca.”

Story Contest Entry #18 : Sister Dana and the Leprechaun

Everyone,

Here’s another batch of fun and original  ‘Spanking Wish’ contest  entries – quite possibly the best thing you’ll read all day…

Enjoy~

– Dana

 

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“Sister Dana and the Leprechaun”

Once upon a time, in the Island of emerald green, dwelled the most lecherous leprechaun that ever could be. This tiny terror haunted a trail that ran through a glen between the village of Limerick and St. Katherine’s Parochial School for teen girls. He’d hide among the green fauna, till a young Coleen would come skipping by on her way to school, then ambush her. With the speed of a green bolt of lightning, he dash between her legs and take a picture up their skirt. Before the poor girl had a chance to realize what had happened, he’d be standing on a log mocking them as he jigged to a song.

“I took me a picture

Of your panties

To show all the boys

At St. Thomas Academy

There’s nothing you can do

But cry “boo hoo hoo”

And run like a fool

All the way to your school”

So in tears they’d run to St. Katherine’s to tell their beloved teacher, Sister Dana, as to what happened. But though the good Sister was understanding of most of the girls problems her tolerance for female submissiveness when confronted by sexist men was quite limited.

“Why didn’t you catch the little shit,” she’d say. ”And make him grant you a wish.”

“Because Sister Dana,” they’d cry, “he’s between our legs and out the other side, before you can bat an eye. So if you could please just petition the Arch Dioceses to buy us new uniforms with ankle length hemlines, so he doesn’t have room to zoom between our knees with ease.”

This troubled Sister Dana felt terribly. For indeed the girls were in desperate need of new school uniforms to replace their old ones so worn. But with St. Katherine’s School in such desperate need of repair she it would be foolish to ask for money when the Arch Dioceses didn’t have the funds to spare.

So after a day of prayer and contemplation, the good Sister Dana decided she would take matters into her own hands. In the morning she planned to confront that perverted little man all by herself.

The next day the detriment Sister Dana set out on her mission, without the slightest fear or hesitation. For the good Sister Dana was no run-of-the-mill nun. She was a member of the Vatican’s elite order, ‘The Sister of Dominia,’ known for their strength and courage. Besides, even though the leprechaun had magic, she possessed a bit of her own. For she carried a very old rosary that had been blessed by no other than St. Patrick himself.

Making her way down the trail she made a sharp turn at a bend. There, standing on a log, was the mischievous leprechaun. “Top of the morning to ya Sister,” he greeted her.

“So you’re the little rascal who’s been scaring my girls. Well Mr. Leprechaun let’s see you try your magic speed on me,” Sister Dana replied.

“Oh I’d never do such a thing. Not that I’m not able to slide under your ankle length hem with the greatest of ease, but because I have too much respect for the Holy Sea to be taken a picture of a Sister’s panties,” he said with a laugh.

The sister realized she’d need to offer him more of an incentive. “I rather doubt your speed is too much for me. So let me up the ante. How about I take off my panties to make this more sporty?”

Surprised at her offer, his pipe nearly fell from his mouth, “That dear Sister is an offer I cannot resist, but are you wearing your undies at this minute?”

“No, but if you turn around, and give a little privacy I can slip them off in a second,” she assured.

The leprechaun immediately turned around as she requested. So Sister Dana quickly lifted her habit, and slipped off her knickers. But in the same motion she also did something else. She looped her rosary around her ankles before dropping her hem. “I’m ready!” She then said.

With a mischievous jig and a laugh, and a puff on his pipe the leprechaun said, “faster then lightning I’m coming!” And he burst into a green ball of light and shot underneath the Sister Dana’s habit. But the light did not burst out the other side. Instead there was terrible ruckus underneath the sister’s habit followed by some muffled cussing. Sister Dana lifted her hem a bit to examine the Leprechaun’s predicament. “Stars and moons,” he yelled, “what’s got a hold of me?”

“You little nasty leprechaun you’re all tangled up in my rosary, and now I’ve caught you fair and square,” she answered. “So you know what that means.”

“Okay, okay,” he plead with disgust. “Just get me out of here and I’ll be granting ya your one wish.”

“After all what you put my girls through, you think I’m going to let you go for one wish,” she sternly replied? “Well Mr. Leprechaun you’re going to get something from me that you’d never wish for.”

Picking the Leprechaun up by his belt, the stately good Sister Dana sat down on the log and placed him over her lap. “I’m going to show you what I do to my students when they’re misbehaving.” Snapping off a nearby sapling branch the sister held it high, then, with swift arm lashed it across the leprechaun’s little behind.

“Ouch! In the name of Saint Gallagher, that hurts,” he cried.

“Whack…Whack…Whack! Jesus, Joseph and Mary. Please Sister stop,” he pleaded!

“Why you little green goblin, how dare you use that language with me. Obviously you’re not understanding. Maybe if we drop your pants it will improve your comprehension.” And the Sister unbuckled his britches and pulled them down over his wee knees.

Upon seeing his smooth rosy blush bottom, Sister Dana paused to comment. “So that’s where you guys came up with the idea of putting pink moons in cereal. I’ve always wondered why you did such a thing.” Then the Sister resumed her task. “Whack…Whack…Whack!”

“Oh Please Sister, your almost hitting me precious blarney stones and rainbow.” But the leprechaun’s pleas did not deter the good Sister Dana, “Whack…Whack…Whack!”

“Please stop Sister. I wasn’t a cussing. I was praying for divine intervention.”

“Okay, I’ll stop, but I’ll need six wishes,” she said pausing.

“Sorry Sister but by the sacred oath of the clan of the leprechauns I can only grant you,…Whack…Whack…Whack!” Before he could finish the Sister had resumed her parochial duties. “Whack…whack…whack!”

“Okay, okay Sister,” the sobbing leprechaun pleaded. “I’ll grant you two wishes.”

Sister Dana paused to concentrate on the matter, and then said. “Make it four, and we got a deal.”

“No Sister I…Whack-Whack-Whack-Whack-Whack!” Sister Dana replied with a vicious flurry of strikes while saying so matter of fact, “I can do this all day long.”

“STOP! THAT’S ENOUGH SISTER,” the crying leprechaun screamed. “I can’t takes no more. Three, three, I beg ya. Let me give ya three wishes. But I can’t give you no more,” he said between sobs. “That’s all my magic’s good for.”

Sister Dana paused and said out-loud to herself. “Now that’s what’s called “the art of negotiation.”

“Alright Sister. Will ya be letting me go?”

“Not till you’ve granted my wishes,” she insisted

“Okay, what will they be,” he asked?

“Of course the first one will be for a pot of gold.”

“Granted!” The leprechaun confirmed. Instantly there appeared a cast iron pot filled with coins at the Sister’s side.

“Second, you must swear by your honor never to bother any of my girls ever again,” she demanded harshly.

“Yes Sister, I swear by all the Saints in heaven I’ll never bother a one of them again,” he answered. “Now what will your third and finale wish be?”

“That you appear at this very place, on this very log, next Monday morning without wearing any pants or underwear what so ever,” she said curtly. “So my girls can humiliate you like you did them.”

“Oh please Sister, we leprechauns are a shy lot,” he begged. “Don’t be forcing me to show me blarney stones and rainbow to those young ladies. Besides the Holy Sea would never approve of them seeing such a sight.

“Your right,” she said slapping his little ass in agreement. “Tell you what, remember what Adam wore in the Garden of Eden for modesty’s sake?

“Yes Sister, he wore a leaf from a fig tree,” he answered in a desperate voice.

“Well you can wear a leaf too, but not one from a fig tree, but a shamrock instead,” she added.

“Sister, a shamrock will barely cover me leprechaun bits,” he answered.

“Trust me little man,” Sister Dana reassured, “a shamrock is all you’ll be needing to cover those little things.”

So the little leprechaun reluctantly agreed. After suffering the humility of the taunting teen Colleens, he disappeared never to be seen in the glen again. And St. Katherine’s Parochial School got a grand remodeling with the leprechaun’s gold. And there was enough left over to purchase new school uniforms for the girls of St. Katherine’s.

Funny thing though, when Sister Dana allowed them to pick out the style, they didn’t choose longer hemlines like they had asked previously for. In fact, they picked skirts that were even shorter than the ones they had before.

The End

(0f the rainbow)

Story Contest Entry #17 : Be Carefull What You Wish For

 

Readers,

More and more and more  ‘Spanking Wish’ contest  stories – aren’t we lucky to have such talented fellow spankos?!

Enjoy~

– Dana

 

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“Be Carefull What You Wish For”

Cynthia or “Cyndi” as she liked to be called came from a very well to do family and to say that she was a spoiled brat would be considered an understatement. Rich, lazy and full of a sense of entitlement Cyndi
waisted what should have been her college days on sleeping, partying and watching TV endlessly with no real purpose in life except to spend her parents’ money. Unlike her older sister Beth who graduated Suma cum Laude from the University Cyndi just sat around the house with no ambition to be anything except perhaps a “socialite”. Her own college career was brief, dropping out midway through her first semester after failing grades and spotty attendance. The only regret Cyndi had was the fact that she never belonged to a college Sorority and to enjoy the fun her sister Beth said she always had at Sorority events. There was a big party planned at the Sorority House that very evening and Cyndi envied her best friend Alice who was still enrolled at the very preppy Ivy League University and was excited about attending the event. Cyndi gazed out from her front window at the full moon that was glowing in the night sky and wished that she could go to that party at Phi Beta Kappa House. She knew that she wouldn’t be allowed admittance since she wasn’t a student anymore at the University. Cyndi envisioned lots of music, drinking, and smoking taking place at the party and would do anything to get herself invited. If only she could find a way to go. Just then she received a text message from her best friend Alice and was surprised since Alice was already supposed to be at the party. Alice texted her that she had come down with the stomach flu and could not go. Immediately Cyndi got the idea that she could attend in place of Alice and asked her friend for permission to use her name. Alice texted her back saying it was OK but only if Cyndi was completely SURE she wanted to go. Cyndi thought that a bit odd that her friend asked that question since she knew that Cyndi always liked a good party. Soon Cyndi got dressed and made her way to the Phi Beta Kappa Sorority House. Better late than never she thought!

As she approached the front door of the house Cyndi could hear the sounds of all kinds of merriment coming from inside. She walked up the porch and rang the doorbell and was greeted by the doorkeeper, a big blonde athletic type young lady who gave the impression that you wouldn’t want to mess with.
“Can I help you” asked the doorkeeper? “Oh yes, I’m Alice and I know I’m late but now I’m here!” “So you are my dear, so you are. We were expecting you a lot earlier. I will inform the President. Better late than never. Come on in” said the Big blonde young lady. While Cyndi was waiting in the foyer she noticed a rather big wooden paddle with a long handle inscribed in Greek letters. “You guys don’t ever use that thing do you?” she asked the doorkeeper. “Oh no silly, that is just for show. A conversation piece” she laughed loudly. Cyndi chuckled at the comment and was then introduced to Ann who was the President of the Sorority. “Hello there Alice, the sisters have been expecting you. Sorry you missed out on a lot of the previous fun but now that you are finally here ,we all can have even more fun!” “Sounds good to me” Cyndi confidently replied. Just then another sorority sister came up to her and announced “but first you must put this on”’. It was a black blindfold and Cyndi was a bit puzzled by the request but once she was handed a beer to drink she was completely at ease and happily obliged to wear it. Cyndi was then paraded through the house and could hear the sound of laughter and giggling coming from the other sorority sisters who were watching.

As soon as the blindfold was removed Cyndi squinted through the bright lights and could make out the banner that was hung up on the far wall behind the bar. It read in big bold letters: WELCOME TO PLEDGE NIGHT!
Just then Ann appeared again and announced to the sisters that new pledge Alice had finally arrived and it was time to give her a “warm” welcoming to the Sorority! Whistles and cheering could be heard from the crowd and now it finally dawned on Cyndi what was about to take place. “Sisters,take your postions” barked out Ann . More catcalls and whistling followed. At that the sorority sisters lined up standing single file across the room bent half over with their legs spread apart. Addressing Cyndi the President said” Alice, you have pledged to this sorority and soon you will earn admission to this House. But first you must endure the ritual of passing through “the old mill” which will teach you humility and respect towards your new sorority sisters. Each one of them had to endure the same initiation and so must you. Now take your position on all fours and begin to crawl through and under your new sorority sisters until you get to the end of the line. Understood? There is no backing out now that you’ve come so far” Cyndi now understood why her best friend skipped this particular party and could see that the door was very far away and that she couldn’t escape the inevitable. She was going to get her ass spanked but good she thought. She figured she could crawl as fast as she can and escape the worst of the looming assault on her backside. “Let the fun begin” shouted out Ann to more cheering and catcalls. With that Cyndi slowly crawled under the first sister who began to flail her bottom with both open hands. “ow,Owwww Cyndi cried out as she tried to move as fast as she could though the “mill” of hands of the sorority sisters. Somewhere in the middle Cyndi found herself caught in the clench of 2 strong legs which in effect locked her under the one sister who like a machine continued to rain down the spanks so hard that Cyndi could hear herself cry out among the laughter in the room. After what seemed like an eternity she finally broke free and continued on until her hot and stinging bottom made it through the last sister. A cheer went up as did Cyndi hopping up and down and rubbing her now very sore butt. More cheering and laughter from those watching. Glad that’s over with Cyndi thought. Just then Ann re appeared and spoke to Cyndi once again. She said “ Alice, I see you’ve gone “through the mill”
but now because you were late to the party there is one more thing you must endure. We here at this House take punctuality very seriously and now we will do you a favor and make sure that we “impress” upon you it’s importance”. Cyndi gulped and took a deep breath not knowing what to expect next although she had a good idea. “Off with the jeans and panties” someone shouted. A huge cheer went up again. Staring at Cyndi was the big blonde doorkeeper she had met earlier and she looked like she was going to make sure Cyndi or “Alice” wasn’t going anywhere. Sheepishly Cyndi took off those tight fitting designer jeans and slowly lowered her frilly panties much to the delight of the throng. More catcalls rang throughout as Cyndi’s sore bottom was on display and was a nice shade of deep red. Almost as red as her face from the embarrassment. “Let’s see if we can match the shade of her panties”! someone else yelled out. Cyndi was so humiliated but was too busy worrying about her sore bum and what was about to happen next. She continued to rub her sore rear in hopes of taking out the sting from her trip through the “mill”. In front of her were about 20 sisters standing there half naked from the waist down holding what looked like medium sized wooden ping pong paddles. They of course were not for the game of ping pong but for these special occasions. She also noticed the look of glee in their eyes and the fact that their bare asses were of a nice red color. Before she could surmise what that meant President Ann spoke again. Addressing both Cyndi and the young ladies with the red bottoms holding the paddles she said” I am proud of all you newly inducted Sorority sisters tonight. You all have taken your initiation well and as a reward, I as President will allow you all to give new pledge Alice a very special “warm” welcome. A night of “fun” she will never forget. Alice, with each “Kiss” of the paddle you are about to receive may you remember this night with fond memories.” By the look on their faces Cyndi knew she was going to feel their wrath as they seemed eager to extract whatever revenge they could from their own earlier initiation. The blonde doorkeeper spoke up with the instructions. “OK Sisters here are the rules. Pledge Alice will walk through the gauntlet and stop before each one of you. She will then bend over and you will be given the honor of giving your new sister one well placed swat on her bare bottom. If you are charitable you may take it easy on her. (Catcalls from the crowd) Otherwise, spank her as hard as you like”. More cheers went up. “Let the fun begin” shouted Ann over the din. SPLAT! WHACK! WHUP! Splat! Whack! And so it went as Cyndi yelped, cried and hollered out as each paddle found its mark. Her backside was on fire and Cyndi knew she wouldn’t be sitting for quite some time. Owwwwwww……she screamed at each swat of the paddle. Turns out the young sorority sisters were none too charitable at all and in fact a little over zealous in their efforts to kiss Cyndi on here now battered and blistered butt. As tears streamed down her face she had only one thing in mind and that was to make a bee line for the door as soon as the last paddle smacked her tender rear. CRACK! and crack it did as the last swat broke the paddle in half that was being wielded by the last sorority sister. Cyndi, whimpering and disheveled grabbed her jeans and scurried out of that god forsaken house as fast as she could oblivious to all the laughter and cheering that followed her out the door. As she noticed the moon up in the early morning sky she thought about her earlier wish and wished she had never wished it! At least the cold night air gave her extremely sore bottom a little respite as she hurried on home. She wouldn’t sit comfortably for days.

The end

Story Contest Entry #16 : Nellie’s Wish

 

Readers,

I wasn’t kidding when I said that the  ‘Spanking Wish’ contest  garnered a lot of entries…

Enjoy!

– Dana

 

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“Nellie’s Wish”

Nellie was looking forward to seeing Becky and her Mum today. She had met Becky but not her Mum but had seen them on occasion at the shops. They seemed to have a wonderful mother daughter relationship, always smiling at each other and never seeming to argue. That was so different to her own daughter, Becky, who was always snapping at her for one reason or another.
So Nellie made a wish before meeting Becky and her Mum. She wanted Laura to be more like Becky.
Laura showed Becky in to the living room. Nellie, was sitting on the sofa. Becky’s Mum must still be in the hallway, Nellie assumed.
Laura was eighteen-years-old like Becky. Laura had only recently met Becky and had hit it off with her very quickly. Both girls went to the same dance class and were both still in their matching sleeveless dark blue dresses finished off with a white belt. It was summer and both girls had bare legs.
Nellie was thirty-nine-years-old and wore a sleeveless blouse and short skirt. She gave Becky a friendly smile as she came over and sat down on the chair opposite. Nellie said happily, “It is so nice to meet you at last, Becky. I have seen how nicely you interact with your Mum and I go on and on to Laura about it.”
“In what way?” Becky asked.
Nellie explained. “I see how you smile at each other, give each other a hug when you say hullo or god-bye to each other, and you never seem to argue.” Nellie gave Laura a sideways look and continued, “Laura though argues a lot and rarely hugs me.” Again Nellie paused before adding, “I just wish Laura was more like you. What’s your secret?”
Becky smiled. “I guess being strict has made all the difference. Setting boundaries definitely helps. Then if the boundary is broken there is no getting out of a sore bottom.”
“Really?” Nellie replied sounding interested. “What kind of boundaries?”
Becky explained. “Oh, all the usual. Tidy bedroom, timeliness, doing what you say you will do, not snapping. You know, all the usual.”
Nellie gave her daughter a half smile and then turning back to Laura said, “So if the rules get broken it’s an automatic spanking? No second chances?”
Becky shrugged her shoulders. “Mum and I found that it works out better if there aren’t any second chances. That way we each know where we stand.”
Nellie was open eyed when she asked, “How often are you spanked then, Becky?”
Becky spluttered, making it sound as though she was surprised. “Me spanked?” she gasped. ”I’m not the one who gets spanked. I spank my Mum.”
“Oh,” Nellie gasped in surprise.
“Too right,” Becky continued. “Mum used to be dreadful. She would forget to pick me up from town for my Saturday job. Tea and dinner would regularly be late. She just didn’t have an idea. Then one day she told me how sorry she was and wanted to be a better Mum and we agreed what would happen. She told me she was spanked when she was younger and regretted that was not continued by her parents as she grew up. We had a chat and she asked if I would spank her when she earned one. So I agreed. We set the rules between us and when she breaks one she gets the order, “Down to your knickers.”
Nellie asked still in wonderment, “You mean take your knickers down?”
“No,” Becky replied firmly. “I mean take everything off except your knickers. I then make her stand on her naughty spot with her arms folded behind her back. I yank her knickers down to her knees, give her three hard spanks on each bottom cheek, and then leave her facing the wall for ten minutes or so before put her across my lap for a good hard spanking.”
Nellie swallowed hard and looked physically queasy. “When was the last time you spanked your Mum?” Nellie asked weakly.
Becky replied firmly, “Just before she took me to the shopping centre today for my Saturday job this morning.”
Nellie was confused. “But she smiled at you and hugged you so lovingly this morning. I saw her.”
Becky was very direct. “Of course. She meant it as well. She had a sore bottom though but had learned her lesson. She was happy enough though as she had been dealt with and we were friends again. That’s why she is so ready to accept my discipline. Because she knows I am fair and she knows where she stands.”
Nellie bit her lip. “What did she do to earn the spanking?” she asked in a whisper.
“She didn’t get up when her alarm went off. I had to get her up and she had to take me to the shopping centre without breakfast. I used that time to give her a spanking although without naughty spot time. She will get that tonight when I get home together with another spanking before an early bedtime. It will be eight o’clock in bed with a sore bottom for her.”
Laura said sternly to her Mum, “Hey, Mum. You overslept this morning and only just got me to work on time.”
Becky interjected looking at Nellie, “So really you earned a spanking if the same rules applied to you as applied to my Mum.”
Nellie bit her lip again and looked from Becky to Laura and back to Becky again. She was flustered.
Laura said seriously, “Look, Mum. You kept asking for me to be like Becky and now you know that if you were Becky’s Mum you’d get a spanking for oversleeping.”
“Would I?” Nellie asked unconvincingly, knowing the answer already.
“Yes, for sure,” Becky replied firmly, adding, “Together with an early bedtime after another spanking for good measure.”
Laura stood up and looked intensely at her Mum. “You heard, Mum. So do what Becky said. Get down to your knickers.”
Nellie blushed but seemed overwhelmed by the two eighteen-year-olds. She could not deny how often she had told Laura how much she wished she was more like Becky. Little did she think that Becky actually spanked her own Mum. Not only that but it seemed her Mum actively encouraged Becky to spank her. For her own good. Mind you, Nellie reckoned she could understand that though. Almost anyway. She was regularly spanked when growing up and was better behaved for it. Then when she became a teenager her Mum stopped spanking her. She got in with a bad lot at school and her marks fell away and she went in to a downhill spiral, getting pregnant at seventeen-years-old. She often wondered what might have been if her Mum had continued to spank her during her teens.
So now faced with two very bossy eighteen-year-olds Nellie swallowed hard as she stood up, licked her lips, and undid the buttons of her blouse. She slid the blouse down her arms, folded it and placed it on a chair. She then put her arms behind her, unclipped her bra, and that followed the blouse on the chair. Finally she unzipped her skirt, pushed it down to the floor, stepped out of it, and it too was folded and placed on the chair.
Laura had smiled to Becky as they both watched Nellie get undressed.
Becky winked and nodded her head telling Laura to impose her control over her Mum.
Laura took her Mum by the upper arm and ordered, “I’ll take you to your naughty spot, Mum,” and a few steps later she gently pressed her Mums head until her nose touched the wall.
Nellie remembered to fold her arms above her waist behind her back but still gasped as she felt her knickers being jerked down to her knees. She gasped again as she felt Laura’s hand rub her bottom in circles and proceeded to gasp after each of the six spanks landed on alternate bare bottom cheeks.
“Stay still, Mum, until I am ready for you,” Laura ordered.
Nellie grunted in to the wall a, “Yes, dear,” as she thought about the slight stinging in her bottom.
Laura made pretence of discussing with Becky what she already knew. “So Becky, I need to give Mum a hand spanking?”
“Yes,” Becky replied. “You should spank your Mum for several minutes with her across your lap. I’ll stay and give you some pointers. Then, you need to give her quite a few spanks with a wooden backed hairbrush. They make great spanking paddles. I keep a few at home as they sometimes crack with use. I get Mum to buy new ones when they do break.”
“Ok, I’ll get Mum to buy some for me,” Becky said pointedly.
Nellie listened to the exchange as she looked open eyed at the wall just the length of her nose away. She knew she had already agreed to be spanked but now it was almost taken for granted that this won’t be her only spanking.
Becky added, “I’ll email you a copy of the rules I have set my Mum. Maybe you can use the same ones?”
“That will be a great start. Thanks Becky,” Laura said happily.
Nellie groaned. As much as she realised her daughter disciplining her would be a good thing for them both she knew she was losing all control over her situation. Still, on balance she knew that needed to be spanked and probably more than once. So she decided to remain obedient and do as she was told.
The two girls discussed rules and spanking for a while knowing Nellie was listening and taking it all in. The driving force of making Nellie obey was the fact Becky spanked her own Mum. A now accepted fact.
Becky announced after a while, “I think your Mum has faced the wall long enough to have thought through her bad behaviour, Laura. You can spank her now.”
Nellie knew the dreaded yet deserved moment had arrived as Laura stood behind her, held her by the arm, and pulled her towards the chair now facing in to the room. She watched as Laura sat on the chair, straightened out her dress, looked up at her and with a stern look on her face commanded, “Step out of your knickers, Mum.”
Nellie licked her lips as she did as she was told and moments later stood to the side of her daughter now fully naked.
“Get across my lap, Mum,” Laura ordered.
Nellie nodded as she eased herself across her daughter’s lap and soon saw the floor come up to meet her face. Not as close as the wall, she realised, but more humiliating as she felt her daughter rub her bare bottom. She looked at her daughter’s feet and reminded herself how she used to have the same close-up of her own Mums feet before a spanking. Not so different she realised, albeit she was about to be spanked by her own daughter.
“Give her a dozen or so spanks, Laura,” Becky ordered.
Nellie tensed her bottom but knew that was not going to help her as the first spank landed. It wasn’t as hard as she had expected though. Nor was the next spank. Nor the ones that followed. Maybe as she was now an adult she had overestimated the pain she would get from a spanking, she wondered?
A moment later her optimism was shattered. Becky said forcefully, “No, no, Laura. You are spanking an adult. You can spank much much harder than that. I suggest you literally spank your Mums bottom as hard as you can. Don’t worry if she cries out and most certainly do not worry if she actually cries. The harder you spank her the better she will learn. That is what my Mum says works for her.”
Nellie knew that Laura must have taken the instruction on board as soon as the next few spanks landed on her bare bottom. They were much harder than the first few spanks and more in line with her own memory of being spanked. It wasn’t long before she was squirming around on her daughters lap and she felt the tears welling up in her eyes.
Laura spanked her Mum for several minutes, spanking first one bottom cheek and then the other.
“Try lots of spanks on the same bottom cheek, Laura,” Becky guided.
Sure enough Nellie’s bottom stung even more as Laura followed Becky’s advice, spanking each bottom cheek a dozen times or more before doing the same to the other bottom cheek.
“Now up and down the backs of her legs,” Becky directed.
Nellie was crying out as her legs quickly started to sting.
Even through her tears Nellie heard Becky say, “Time for the hairbrush, Laura. Give your Mum good firm spanks.”
The first spank had Nellie crying out loud. Even so she heard Becky say, “Ignore it, Laura. Don’t forget, the more tears the better the lesson she is learning.”
How could an eighteen-year-old be such a hard spanker, Nellie wondered as the spanks continued to rain down on to her increasingly stinging bottom? The spanks kept on landing all over Nellie’s bottom and the tears ran down her face. She was wondering how much more punishment that she could take.
Nellie felt her arm being shaken and her eyes opened with a start. She looked up and saw Laura looking down at her.
“Come on, Mum. Becky and her Mum are here.”
Laura turned and went back out of the bedroom leaving Nellie in a state of waking up wonderment. A quick hand to her bottom discovered her knickers were on. As she got up and turned to look in the mirror she saw that her bottom had no spank marks.
Nellie took a moment to realise that it had been a dream. She quickly straightened her clothes and ran a hairbrush through her hair, smiling to herself as she realised it had a wooden back to it. She then went downstairs to meet the visitors. She had met Becky before but not her Mum, Amanda.
Amanda was thirty-eight-years old and in a summery sleeveless floral dress with a black belt. She had bare legs and wore low heeled shoes.
“Hullo, Becky, hullo Amanda,” Laura said happily to the two visitors. “I’m Laura,” she added giving Amanda a kiss on the cheek.
“Hi,” both Amanda and Becky replied.
Laura blushed as she thought about her dream. She said happily to Amanda, “I’m so pleased you could come over for tea. Laura likes Becky so much.”
Amanda replied, “Becky keeps telling me how you say such nice things about us,” Amanda said enthusiastically.
Nellie was embarrassed but covered her embarrassment by saying, “Well, Amanda, the two of you certainly have a great relationship.” Nellie replied smiling, although blushing as she played over in her mind her dream.
Laura said with a sarcastic tone, “Yes. Mum keeps saying how she wishes I was more like you, Becky.”
Becky smiled at the comment.
They all sat down at the table. Nellie had prepared a tea for them all. Soft drinks with some cake. Although Nellie realised that Laura must have laid the table as she slept.
Part way through the tea Amanda excused herself and went upstairs to the bathroom. Nellie also went upstairs to her bedroom and passed the bathroom and realised the door was ajar. She peeked in as she passed by and saw Amanda looking at her bottom in the mirror. It was bright red. Nellie managed to suppress a gasp and quietly carried on to her bedroom. When she heard Amanda go back downstairs she waited a few moments and went back downstairs herself.
When Nellie walked back in to the dining room she realised that Amanda was now sitting on a cushion.
Amanda caught Nellie looking at the cushion and blushed, saying, “I hope you don’t mind me using one of your cushions, Nellie.”
“Not at all,” Nellie said thinking madly about her dream.
Laura broke what was an awkward silence with, “Hey, Mum, you wanted to discuss how I could be more like Becky.”
Nellie saw that Laura was looking very seriously back at her and that Amanda was blushing as she squirmed around awkwardly on the cushion. She swallowed hard, certain that Amanda had been spanked. If so, was it by Becky though?
“Did I?” Nellie asked sheepishly …
Laura continued, “Yes, Mum. You keep telling me how you want me to be like Becky. Now you know how that can work.”
Amanda blushed as she said, “It really does work out for the best, Nellie. I reckon that you saw my bottom upstairs. Well I know it looked bad but I deserved the spanking.” Amanda smiled and sounded more upbeat as she added, “In fact getting spanked by Becky has worked really well. I am a far better Mum than I was and I do learn from every spanking.”
Nellie looked at Amanda. “Your bottom did awfully sore.”
Amanda still smiled, “Yes, and Becky sure does spank hard. I do dread it when she tells me to undress down to my bra and knickers and face the wall. She usually leaves me there for ten minutes but that is long enough for me to understand what I did wrong. So when she pulls my knickers down and I bend across her lap I know she is doing the best thing. For both of us.”
For Nellie it was now so clear. Laura snapped at her so often because she let her down so often. She too had thought she would have turned out better if her parents had spanked her well beyond when they stopped. So maybe she was now going to get what she needed. In fact what she had wished for. A spanking when she needed it from the one person who she really cared for her. Her daughter, Laura.
Nellie had made her decision, stood up, looked at Laura, and asked, “So down to my bra and knickers?”
Laura stayed seated on the high backed chair and replied firmly, “Yes, Mum. I’ll spank you first and then you can face the wall. This time.”
Nellie nodded and unzipped her dress, letting it fall to the ground. She scooped it up and put it neatly on a spare chair before standing obediently to Laura’s side, looking down at her lap.
Laura quickly yanked Nellie’s knickers down and taking her arm gently guided her Mum across her lap.
As the floor came up to meet her face and Laura rubbed her bare bottom Nellie realised a great weight had been taken from her. The weight of responsibility that went with being a good Mum. Hopefully she would regain that responsibility in time but until then she was happy Laura would have disciplinary control over her. She was sure she would suffer many many spankings, all of which would be fully deserved.
Nellie was just so happy that now she was going to get what she had wished for.

Contest Entry Story #15 : A Spanking Wish

 

Readers,

Here come more great reader-submitted entries for the  ‘Spanking Wish’ contest  !

Enjoy!

– Dana

 

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“A Spanking Wish”

With a frustrated sigh, Maggie shut her laptop a little more aggressively than she had intended. Despite being twenty-one years old, she could feel the beginnings of a temper tantrum brewing inside her as she stalked across her bedroom and gazed out the window into the dark night, her eyes searching the stars that were twinkling above. She located the brightest one and stared at it, curious.

Don’t be stupid, she told herself. Wishes don’t come true. They’re not real.

But still, despite her best efforts to talk herself out of it, she thought about her wish all the time. She woke up in the morning, wishing, and went to bed at night, wishing still. And the videos she had been watching, and the stories she had been reading, did nothing to help her. In fact, they made her wish stronger and harder to ignore. And so she was frustrated.

She wished for a spanking.

Not any spanking; not the playful spanking she had tried with her last boyfriend, which she found enjoyable but unsatisfactory. She wished for a real spanking, like the ones that were scattered on blogs and fiction sites all over the internet. She was jealous of the people in the videos and stories who got spanked, not because it was sexy or arousing, though it certainly could be, but because they needed it and deserved it and wanted it.

Maggie wasn’t quite sure why she wanted it so badly, but she knew that she did. She watched the videos of the real punishments; the ones that helped people modify their behavior and held them accountable for their actions. She read the descriptions and stories of people being disciplined by caring, concerned spankers. And she wanted it with every fiber of her being.

Maybe it was the fact that she lacked the structure, discipline, affection and attention that she needed as a child. She was well behaved, never causing any trouble, and therefore never needed it. But as a young adult, she was running herself into the ground, putting herself through an intense university degree, working as many hours as she could manage, and struggling with anxiety and bouts of depression that made her feel isolated, unloved and unlovable. She didn’t take good care of herself, prioritizing her classes and job over her health, and she didn’t have anyone to look after her either. She wished that someone would help her hold herself accountable, and that someone would care and love her enough to take her in hand when she needed it most.

And did she ever need it now. She knew she was temperamental when she was sick, and felt the early warning signs of yet another cold coming on. She chalked it up to poor eating habits, not enough exercise and too much stress. Again, she sighed.

“I wish,” she said aloud, laying her hands on the windowsill and finding the brightest star again, “that someone would care enough about me to spank me.”

She almost laughed at herself, pulling the curtains across the window and sitting down on her bed. Wishes don’t come true.

With that thought, however, the curtains rippled gently as the window opening of its own accord. Startled, Maggie stood to close the window, but before she got a chance a wisp of silver…something…floated through the open window and into her bedroom. She could do nothing but stare, confused, as the wisp twirled around and around, growing in size until a tall woman in a sparkly silver dress with layers of crinoline appeared in its wake. Maggie swallowed hard.

“Hello, dear,” the silver-glitter-magic woman said, smiling softly. Maggie didn’t answer, too dumbfounded by the sudden apparition of this stranger in her bedroom. The woman laughed. “Don’t be afraid. I’m your Fairy Godmother. I heard your wish.”

Maggie pushed a lock of her wavy brown hair behind her ear and glanced at her bare feet. She whispered a quiet, “Oh.”

The Fairy laughed again, reminding Maggie of a wind chime. “Oh indeed. I’m sure you thought no one was listening. Well, here I am!”

“I-I…Oh,” Maggie answered, unable to think or speak for shock. Suddenly, it occurred to her that if this woman…fairy…had heard her wish, then she was here to…

“Spank you, of course,” the Fairy finished Maggie’s thought. “I’m sure you’ve heard that you ought to be careful what you wish for. I certainly hope you haven’t changed your mind.”

I guess it’s now or never, Maggie thought to herself. “No, ma’am.” She wasn’t about to back out. She had been wishing for this moment for as long as she could remember, and it was here, however unreal it seemed.

“Perhaps we should have a little talk first,” offered the Fairy gently, taking Maggie’s hand and leading her to the bed. They sat side by side, Maggie alternating between gazing at the Fairy’s elaborate silver dress, and staring at her lap, nervously pulling at the strings on her purple and white cheetah-print pajama pants. She suddenly felt self-conscious and underdressed. “No need to be nervous, dear.”

“So, I have a Fairy Godmother,” Maggie stated incredulously, finally regaining her ability to speak.

“Mhm,” answered the Fairy, laying a comforting hand on Maggie’s thigh.

“How come I’m only finding this out now?” asked Maggie, the temper-tantrum feeling creeping slowly back into her belly. “Where have you been all along?”

“You never called for me before,” was the Fairy’s simple answer. “You didn’t wish.”

Maggie was upset. “All I had to do was wish?”

“That’s all.”

Maggie felt a tear roll down her right cheek, and moved to brush it away but the Fairy’s hand got their first. Her heart leapt at the affectionate action. She wasn’t even sure why she was crying.

The fairy returned her hand to its place on Maggie’s thigh. “I’ve been watching you, Maggie. I’ve always been here. And I know how hard you push yourself, how much you do, and how poorly you look after yourself in the mean time. I also know how badly you need my help.”

Nodding, Maggie scooted herself a little closer to the Fairy. “I feel kind of stuck,” was her response.

“I’m here to help,” the Fairy assured her. “I think this is exactly what you need. Just so we are clear, you’re going to get a spanking. Then we’ll have another little chat.” Maggie nodded again. The Fairy patted her lap gently, and Maggie swallowed hard as she moved to lower herself across the silver-dressed legs. She was nervous, the anxiety bubbling up in her stomach as her breath quickened.

The Fairy began by rubbing the small of her back in a comforting gesture. “Alright, Maggie. Can you tell me why I’m about to spank you?”

“I don’t look after myself,” Maggie answered in a small voice.

“That’s right,” replied the Fairy. She moved her hand to Maggie’s bottom and patted it lightly. “You don’t eat nearly enough, you stay up extraordinarily late and you don’t make any time to exercise.”

The Fairy began to spank Maggie, alternating between the left, right and centre of her bottom. A chill ran up Maggie’s spine and she shuddered. She couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

“You procrastinate,” the Fairy continued lecturing, “and you let yourself get behind which makes you anxious, and then you procrastinate more. You’re incredibly hard on yourself and you treat yourself poorly. You think badly of yourself.”

The warm glow that had begun in Maggie’s bottom was quickly becoming more intense. She felt the tears already coming to her eyes; it wasn’t so much the pain as it was the stern words coming from the Fairy, which Maggie knew were all too true. She was so hard on herself, and felt badly about herself all the time. She sniffled quietly, squirming over the Fairy’s lap as she pulled firmly on the waistband of Maggie’s pajama pants.

“No,” Maggie pleaded, registering that the Fairy intended to remove her clothes.

“I think so,” answered the Fairy, and Maggie resigned to her fate. She lifted her hips slightly as her pants and panties were pulled down to the middle of her thigh. The Fairy continued to spank her on her bare bottom.

“This spanking is to remind you that you are cared about,” the Fairy said, her voice stern but her words kind. “You are smart, you are sweet, you are beautiful, you are capable and you are important. You are loved. Do you understand?”

“Y-yes,” Maggie sputtered,

The heat had turned into pain. It was getting past the point of tolerable now, and Maggie began to cry in earnest. She sobbed and cried out as the flurry of spanks got faster and harder. She kicked her feet and wobbled unsteadily on the Fairy’s lap until a firm hand went around her waist and held her in place. It was the first time in a very long time that Maggie had truly cried, and she continued to do so, barely even registering it when the Fairy stopped spanking her and instead began to rub more soothing circles on Maggie’s back. When her sobs had slowed and calmed into hiccups, the Fairy took her arm and assisted the still-teary girl into standing and helped her return her clothes to normal. She then patted the bed on her left side and Maggie sat, gingerly.

“How do you feel?” the Fairy inquired. Maggie hiccupped again, not answering and instead wrapping her arms around the Fairy’s neck. She buried her face in her shoulder and allowed the tears to fall onto the sparkly silver dress. The Fairy took Maggie into her arms and rubbed her back up and down, whispering comforting words into her soft hair.

“Thank you,” Maggie murmured, enjoying the feeling of the hands on her back.

“Of course dear,” replied the Fairy. “Perhaps it’s time to get you to bed.” Maggie nodded and untangled herself from the Fairy’s embrace. She moved to the top of the bed and pulled back the covers, sliding in and settling her head on the pillows. Her bottom stung a great deal and she winced.

The Fairy smirked and moved to pull the covers up under Maggie’s chin. “Best to sleep on your belly,” she said with a twinkling laugh. She smoothed Maggie’s hair. “Good night, dear.”

“Good night,” Maggie replied sleepily, completely exhausted from her spanking and crying.

“Let’s try and look after yourself from now on,” the Fairy instructed, sitting on the edge of Maggie’s bed. Maggie turned her face on the pillow and gazed up at the Fairy. “Eat properly, get lots of rest, and be kind to yourself. You’re a wonderful girl and you deserve to treat yourself with much more kindness and respect. We have much more to deal with, but we will leave that for another night. Now get some sleep.”

“Mhm,” Maggie breathed, closing her eyes and pulling the blankets close to her face.

The Fairy moved to the window. “And remember, a good spanking is only a wish away!” Maggie was already asleep, breathing heavily on her stomach, face down in the pillow. The fairy twirled in place, exiting the room in a silvery wisp and magicking the window shut behind her.

Contest Entry #14 : My Spanking Wish

 

Readers,

Another great entry to the  ‘Spanking Wish’ contest   – get ’em while they’re hot.~~

Enjoy!

– Dana

 

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“My Spanking Wish”

One day while walking along the shore of a pristine mountain lake feeling rather alone and unloved I came across the perfect skipping stone and thought that this stone would make a perfect object to make a wish with. I thought that if I could get this stone to skip across the water my wish would come true and the more skips it made the more likely my wish will come to pass.

So I picked up the rock and made my wish:

I wish that I had a strong mother figure in my life who cared enough about me and my emotional health to put me across her knee and spank me soundly and frequently.

I took a deep breath, rolled the rock around in my hand until I had the perfect grip, got into the perfect stance and let the stone fly with all my might. It struck the water at the perfect angle and bounced high then skipped across the lake until it went out of sight. My heart leaped out of my chest and I yelled with joy. I hoped with all my being that my wish would come true.

The next day I received a call from Sue a female friend of mine. She asked what I had been up to and if I had some free time. I said I was not up to much and currently out of work, and asked why. She said that she had an old friend who just moved into town and needed someone to help her unpack, and do some work around her house. I said I could do that. She gave me her name and number and told me to call her friend and let her know that she referred me.

I immediately called her friend. A pleasant well-spoken voice answered the phone and introduced herself as Mary. I introduced myself and said that Sue had told me to call. She said Oh! Yes, she mentioned you and said that you and I would get along nicely. She gave me her address and told me to come by the next day at 7 am. I thanked her and said I would be there.

The next morning I got up, showered, and got ready. I left a few minutes before 7 am and arrived about 15 minutes late. A very beautiful woman dressed in professional attire answered the door. I introduced myself and her look turned stern. She said, “You are late.” I apologized and made up some excuse, which I could tell she was not buying. She said that this is not going to work if she cannot rely on me at all times, and if I cannot follow simple instructions. She started to close the door and I stopped the door with my hand and begged her to give me another chance. I told her I needed the job and that I could follow her orders and would do anything to show her I can be a good worker.

She gave me a long stern look as though she was looking into my sole. She said fine but your tardiness must be punished do you understand. My heart leapt into my trout and I swallowed hard and said yes. She gave me another hard look and said, “Very well then come in. She led me to the kitchen, pointed to the table and told me to strip and place my clothing folded neatly on the table and then stand with my nose against the refrigerator door until told to move. She then left the room.

I nervously undressed folding my clothing, and walked over to the refrigerator and placed my nose on it and waited for her to return. I found myself shaking with nerves and anticipation. I wondered to myself if my wish was coming true and to some degree hoped it was.

After it seemed forever, she came walking back into the kitchen. She was talking on the phone. As she came over to me, I felt her hand rub and squeeze my bottom and herd her telling the person on the phone that I was late but might still give me a chance depending how well I handle my spanking. I could feel my face turning red with embarrassment that she was telling this to the other person. When she finished the call, she told me that was Sue on the phone checking on how I was doing. Mary asked, “You don’t want to disappoint Sue and make her look bad do you?” I said No!

I could hear her moving around the kitchen, and papers shuffling. She was apparently going about her day without regard for me standing there naked up against her refrigerator. After the longest time she said, “So are you ready to get this over with so you can get started with your work?” I said “Yes Ma’am. I heard a chair move and she told me to come over to her. As I turned, I could see her sitting in a chair in the middle of the room within arm’s length from the table. On the table was a thick wooden paddle with a rope attached to the handle and a glove.

She instructed me to stand in front of her and open my legs. As I stood there, she inspected every inch of my body with the intensity of an inspector looking for any imperfections. She looked up into my eyes and gave a very hard stare. She told me to place myself across her lap

I got into position. Without notice, she started spanking me with her hand. I could feel the sting as her hand landed firmly on my bare bottom. The strokes delivered at a steady pace and continually became harder and hurt more. It did not take but a few minutes before the pain was becoming unbearable. I started to kick and move. She struck the tender flesh of my upper leg with a very hard swat and told me to be still or my punishment will last longer and be more severe.

After what seemed like forever, she told me to get up on my knees. I knelt next to her rubbing my ass. She got up, got herself a cup of coffee, and came back and sat down. She sipped on her coffee and looked over some more paperwork, not saying a word, just enjoying her coffee. She set her coffee down, picked up the glove, put it on her hand, and then picked up the paddle and slid her hand into the leather string. She gave the paddle a spin and cinched it up to her wrist. She then got a firm grip on the paddle with her gloved hand, looked me with a smile on her face, and said get back in position.

As I settled into position she stated that the spanking I had just received was just a worm up and now she was going to see just how devoted I will be. If I do not take my spanking, our relationship will end and I will not get the job. The first swat landed on my right cheek and stung so bad that I jumped. Before I could recover, the next landed on my left cheek with as much force and pain. I could not believe how much the paddle hurt. I was not given much time to thank as each swat landed with force. My mind was going frantic. I wished it would stop but could tell that she was very skilled and was enjoying herself. I found myself trying to get away and kicking. She put her leg over mine, grabbed my right arm pulling it behind my back and pushing it hard toward my upper back. She had me locked in and I could not move. Once in this position the spanking became faster and harder. She was laying into my bare ass with the paddle like a maniac showing me no mercy. I started to scream, beg for mercy, and starting balling. This only made her increase speed and force. I finally clasped over her knee and balled uncontrollably.

The spanking finally stopped. She put the paddle down on the table, released her grip on me, and instructed me to stand up and turn around so she can examine her work. I complied and tried to regain my composure and some degree of manliness. After examining my butt she got up, left the room, returning shortly with a blue ribbon. She set back down and instructed me to turn around.

She looked into my eyes and said that she was pleased with my performance and has decided to, give me a try, but that I was on probation for the next six months. She said that the job was to be her personal attendant. She explained that I was to attend to her needs whatever they may be, that any substandard performance will be dealt with in the same manner as it was today, and asked if I understood. I said yes.

She then asked if I was familiar with the practice of tying a string around your finger if you wanted to remember something. I said yes I had herd of that. She said good then this ribbon would act as a reminder that you are to be on time and that you work for me. She then tied the ribbon around the base of my penis and balls synching it tightly. She then brought the ribbon around the top of my sack and again synched it up tight and finished it off with a bow. She stated that I was to leave the ribbon in place for the next six months.

She then told me to get dressed and start unpacking the boxes that were stacked in the corner. I dressed and started working, thinking that my wish had come true.             

                     

Story Contest Entry #13 : Vienna Waits for You

 

Wow!

I don’t know about you all, but I’m really tickled at the work gone into these entries for the  ‘Spanking Wish’ contest  .

Enjoy!

– Dana

 

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“Vienna Waits for You”

Vienna Waits for You

I wish I could just find something that could get through to this girl, Emma thought, but she wasn’t holding her breath. She was looking at Dev after she’d gone through the breakfast line in the cafeteria, her once good mood crashing straight through the floor. Dev was sitting in the same spot Emma had left her last night, poring over a bunch of books and papers which were threatening to spill off the table at any moment. Emma might have given her the benefit of the doubt, might have thought she’d just woken up early to study, if she didn’t have a tall stack of used paper coffee cups sitting across from her. When she walked closer, the bags under Dev’s eyes and the harried look as she scrawled notes only confirmed her suspicions.

Dev Kaplan had come crashing into her life like a bull in a china shop over four months ago, and Emma had been stuck with her ever since. It started simply enough – Emma had found Dev one morning, delirious with sleeplessness and laying about on one of the footpaths on campus, and ushered the Sophomore back to her dorm room and ordered her to sleep. Emma was just making sure she didn’t cause trouble for any other students, but Dev had spent the next few days incessantly hounding her, wanting to get inside her head and wanting to know most of all why Emma was so straightlaced and why in the world didn’t she ever have any fun?

Dev was everything Emma was not: Loud, boisterous, and chaotic. That made her fairly popular around school, another trait she did not share with Emma. After Emma’s Freshman year at Oregon City Institute of the Arts, she mostly kept to herself and slowly found everyone around her pulling away. She wouldn’t call herself lonely, though. She enjoyed solitude. Dev, on the other hand, was a people person to the first degree and seemingly collected people wherever she went, just on the merits of existing in that space and being herself. They flocked to her as naturally as birds did to trees. Emma didn’t understand it and she suspected she never would.

Perhaps the only trait Dev and Emma did share was perfectionism. It was almost a must for their school, which was considerably difficult to get into, no matter your area of study. Emma controlled her perfectionism, harnessing it into self-discipline strictly applied to every area of her life. She slept at precisely the same time each night, studied hard in all of her academics classes, and practiced alone during studio time until her feet were numb. Dev’s perfectionism presented in much the same way all of her other personality traits did: obnoxiously and eccentrically. She would stay up for three days, barely feeding herself, to focus on a single painting. She would buy endless books with money she didn’t really have, to study arts principles she was already taking classes in. She turned in late nearly every single assignment she was given, not because it was difficult for her but because she would obsessively check over her work to make sure it was exactly right.

It was this total lack of self preservation that made Emma agree to Dev’s proposal when they were first getting to know each other. Dev was determined to teach Emma how to have fun, and Emma would in return advise Dev on how to take care of herself. Dev agreed readily to that, not having any idea how seriously Emma would take her task. Dev mostly expected for Emma to tell her what to do and leave it at that, but Emma got fully into her business and either made her do the things she asked of her, or taught her how to do them. Dev was an extra project and, really, a friend that Emma found herself enjoying a lot.

Emma set her tray down on a stack of Dev’s papers, considering there was no clear spot on the table. Dev looked up to protest, but her gripe was cut short when she saw the look in Emma’s eyes. Emma could sure be stern when she wanted to be, and it cowed Dev a little. She held up one hand.

“I know what you’re going to say,” she started, talking a bit slower than usual with obvious exhaustion. “But Em, it’s midterms. Midterms are coming up and I have all this math to do,” she said, gesturing at the table. Emma picked up papers randomly, quirking an eyebrow.

“Oh really? I guess you also have all this english to do, and all this science and all this history.” She cut a sharp look at Dev, taking in once more her wild curly hair, spilling out of a ponytail after probably having run her hands through it all night. “None of these papers are even finished, Kaplan.”

“I know that,” Dev said irritably. “What do you think I’m doing here?”

“I think you’ve spent the night racing to do all this studying which you could have done just fine today, during your free time. I think you’ve been up all night starting papers, fizzling out on them because you’re too tired to be doing this, and going on to the next one. This isn’t good studying and you’re not even going to retain any of this. On top of that, you’re going to eventually get some sleep, read over these, and realize they’re terrible because you did them when you were like this.” Emma gestured at Dev for effect.

Dev snatched the few papers out of Emma’s hands and slapped them back onto a pile somewhere on the left side of the table.

“You don’t even need to cram like this, Kaplan,” Emma sighed, leaning over and gently closing the heavy textbook resting just in front of Dev. “You study just fine for your academics classes, you nearly always get As on tests, and when you manage to turn things in on time you get good marks on those, too. I don’t understand all of this.”

“But I do have to cram,” Dev insisted. “It’s midterms. I have midterms for all of these classes in the next two days,” Dev said, a whine creeping into her voice.

“That’s not how that works when you study regularly. That’s what the rest of these yahoos do because they ignore their academics in favor of their arts classes,” Emma said, gesturing to the greater cafeteria where a disproportionate amount of students were also reading or scribbling on papers and ignoring their breakfasts. “The only thing that’s going to make you do badly is if you keep pulling all-nighters and you’re too tired to think by the time the tests roll around.”

Emma cut into her egg white omelet, which had gone cold over the course of their arguing, and took the first bite to give herself a moment to think while she chewed.

In the moment of quiet afforded to her, Dev had reopened her history textbook and was scanning the pages in a haze. Emma really doubted she was reading any of it at all.

“I’m going to finish my breakfast,” Emma said finally. “And I suggest you go get something to eat as well. When we’re done, you’re going back to your dorm and going to sleep,” she said, her tone entirely non-negotiable. “And no, I really don’t care that sleeping now would make you miss your oils class, so don’t even try to argue with me.”

Dev looked up at her, scowling. It was half-hearted and that only made her look entirely more burnt out.

“Well?” Emma prompted. “What are you waiting for? Go get something to eat,” she ordered, pointing at the breakfast line with her fork. Dev shot up angrily, a mess of papers falling to the floor as she turned and stalked off to do what she was told. Emma sat at the table, waiting for Dev and running her hand over her hair, smoothing what was already perfectly in place in her severe bun.

Both Emma’s parents were military, with high-ranking and successful careers, and she knew how either one of them would have dealt with her or her three brothers behaving in such a way. Sometimes, Emma felt like Dev’s friend: a normal friend, who hung out and chatted with her. But sometimes Emma felt responsible for her, and it almost worried Emma how often she found herself wondering how her parents would handle a girl like Dev Kaplan. Even growing up on army bases all over the place, Emma noticed that her parents were stricter than most. Her and her brothers would never have dreamt of doing something as stupid as staying up when they weren’t supposed to, or turning in school assignments late – but when the rare snotty attitude cropped up, someone usually found themselves bent over the back of the couch getting their backside tanned.

Maybe that was the right course. Emma certainly cared about Dev, that much was for sure. She didn’t like watching the girl needlessly self destruct, and, Emma being a senior, she wouldn’t be here next year to help Dev take care of herself. That worried her more than anything.

Dev sat back down, a tray of pancakes in hand, and did a very good impression of a five-year-old sulking while she ate. She pointedly ignored Emma’s eyes boring into her. Dev was very used to Emma studying her by now.

“We’re not going out tonight,” Emma finally said after a pregnant pause. “I want you to come to my room tonight instead.”

The first half of her sentence infuriated Dev. They had an agreement, and Fridays and Saturdays were her nights to finally get to boss Emma around and get her to open up a little. However, she could think of plenty of fun things to do alone in Emma’s room, and wondered if Emma was coming on to her. Her interest was piqued.

“Oh?” was all she answered, and Emma nodded.

“Yes. You and I need to talk. You’ve been slacking off on taking care of yourself a lot lately, and you’re breaking our agreement, so I’m breaking it, too. We’re not going to have fun tonight, we’re going to have a heart-to-heart.”

Well. That idea was squashed, and Dev was in a bad mood again. The girls finished their breakfasts and Emma bussed their trays while Dev collected her things, feeling very sour about the whole situation.

The walk back to the Sophomore dorm seemed interminable to Dev. Her feet dragged, her breathing was slow, and her rucksack was full of books and assignments that suddenly seemed to weigh as much as boulders to her. She entertained the idea that maybe she was really as tired as Emma told her she was, but never would she admit such a thing.

Emma, for her part, was simply glad to find Dev’s roommate gone when she opened the door. The last thing she wanted to deal with was Lauren. That girl was bad-tempered on her best days, and even more so when Emma woke her up by dragging Dev in early in the mornings.

Dev seemed to melt into her desk chair, and her bag slumped from her arm to the floor in a great heap.

“Up,” Emma ordered shortly, snapping her fingers at Dev. “Pajamas, then bed.”

Dev didn’t even have the energy to look angry, and Emma watched as she changed and then wilted like a week-old flower onto her bunk. Emma pulled the covers up over her.

“If you wake up before three, just go right back to sleep,” Emma instructed, her voice softening a little in the wake of Dev’s ever more obvious exhaustion. “Got it, Kaplan?”

Dev nodded, and Emma was satisfied enough  to leave the room and turn the lights out. She had to go get ready for her own classes, and after that she had a little planning to do.

Dev blearily blinked her eyes open and breathed deeply. She looked around, feeling very disoriented. She felt like she was meant to be doing something… Studying? Or sleeping? She couldn’t even tell anymore.

She threw off her blankets, which felt damp and clingy after sleeping in them in the stale air of college dorm heaters. After sitting up and staring at her alarm clock a while, her faculties had returned enough for her to start remembering last night and this morning. She groaned, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms.

Emma was so ticked off at her! Dev hated upsetting Emma. It had taken her quite a bit of finagling to get into her good graces in the first place, which was wholly unsurprising. Emma was a senior, a very aloof and private girl who had always seemed very sophisticated and unforgiving in Dev’s eyes. When they’d struck up an agreement to help each other, Dev had been ecstatic. It was one thing to get some kids in her classes to like her and hang out with her, they were all forced to be together all the time – it was entirely another to get someone like Emma to voluntarily spend time with her. She wasn’t sure why Emma seemed so keen on getting her to take care of herself, because Dev figured that was her own business, but if that was the price she paid? So be it.

Well, the price was a lot worse than she’d expected when she let Emma down. She’d been subjected to lectures the likes of which she had really never experienced before, both her parents having been bohemian types who tended to let Dev do whatever she liked. It was unusual and uncomfortable having anyone hold her really accountable, and care about how she was doing in that regard.

The door to Dev’s dorm opened, and she fully expected it to be Lauren. When Emma walked in, Dev bit the inside of her cheek.

“Hey,” she mumbled, reaching up to run her hand through her hair. It snagged on her hair tie, which was on its last legs, and Dev tugged it out of the curls.

“Hey, Kaplan,” Emma sighed. She watched Dev fidget with her hair for a moment more, then picked up her rucksack where it had landed on the floor earlier that day and had not been moved since. She threw it over her free shoulder, the other one being occupied by her own gym bag, and she nodded at the door. “Get some shoes on and don’t bother to change. We’re going to my room now.”

Dev seriously considered arguing. She had plenty of better things to do than go and get yelled at for a while. But the last thing she wanted to do was disappoint Emma any further, or continue to break their agreement.

She shoved her feet into her Vans and pulled on the hoodie that had been slung over the back of her desk chair, then followed Emma out of the room. ‘

“Why are you bringing my stuff?” she asked after a moment of silent walking.

“Because you’ll be staying over in my room tonight,” Emma answered simply. Dev didn’t remember agreeing to that, but she wasn’t about to contest it. She wanted to simply let Emma be angry, get through it as quickly as possible, and get things back to normal.

Sunset was just creeping up on them as they walked through campus grounds, avoiding deep puddles and muddy patches of grass from what was obviously a heavy rain earlier. Winter here didn’t usually afford snow, but the rain was cold and plentiful. It smelled lovely to Dev, and she wished she could stay outside just a little longer, but Emma was not quite so fond of the Oregon weather and she ushered Dev through to her dorm at a fast pace.

Dev was quick to remove her shoes once in the confines of Emma’s room. Emma was very neat and orderly and would have been quite incensed if she walked through the room in wet shoes, though Dev did that in her own room all the time.

Emma went about putting things away wordlessly. She was a little more nervous than she cared to let on to Dev, and when she was nervous she cleaned. Ballet shoes got put into her closet and sweat-soaked towels and leotards into her hamper. When her bag was hung on its hook on the back side of her door, she turned and looked at Dev, who was fidgeting and restless, herself.

“Okay.” Emma’s voice was a knife, cutting through the palpable tension in the room. “Kaplan, I’m not going to yell at you. Not today,” she said, and Dev looked at her with considerable confusion, her brow crinkling.

“You’re not?” she asked, not quite convinced.

“No, I’m not,” Emma confirmed, smoothing her already wrinkle-free skirt over her thighs. “Talking, yelling, planning, advising… None of it has quite worked yet. Not on your most prevalent problems. That’s why I want to try something different, and a little unorthodox,” she said, adopting a more serious tone.

Dev looked at her blankly, wondering what else there was supposed to be. Emma’s arsenal of ways to get her to take care of herself already seemed intimidating enough to her.

Emma closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“What I’m trying to say, Kaplan, is that I think you would benefit from more structure. I’ve been trying to help you as a friend, mostly hands off–” she was interrupted by Dev scoffing. Emma’s meddling didn’t feel so ‘hands off’ to her at all. Emma went on as if the interruption hadn’t happened. “–But I think it’s time to step it up a level. I’m going to give you a choice, Kaplan. One, you can either take a punishment from me, which will include a spanking with my hand and a hairbrush; or two, we can terminate our agreement and be more like regular friends. I’m leaving this entirely up to you. All I know is, I can’t help you with what I’m doing currently, and you can’t help yourself if you don’t take me seriously.”

Emma’s heart was beating fast after Emma wrapped up her speech, and she entertained the idea that Emma looked a little nervous. It was nothing compared to what Dev was going through. She really couldn’t believe Emma’s suggestion was serious. To her, the idea of spanking was something seen in old movies or comic books, not exactly anything to do with real life. But Emma was very serious. Emma was always serious, it was simply her nature.

She considered the other option, and found that one even less pleasant. While she didn’t enjoy Emma nagging her every five minutes and telling her what to do all the time, she did enjoy getting Emma out of her comfort zone and getting her out a little more. She enjoyed Emma, period. And she felt if they ended their agreement, Emma would have less reason to seek her out quite so often. They would probably be a lot less close, and Dev didn’t want that at all, even if ‘close’ meant ‘irritating’ sometimes.

“Will it hurt a lot?” Dev asked finally, lifting her eyes to meet Emma’s.

Emma let go of the breath she didn’t realize she had been holding, and nodded. “Yes, it will hurt a lot. You’ll very likely still feel sore tomorrow when you’re sitting. You’ll probably cry.” Emma was trying to be as candid and blunt as possible. She knew the nature of Dev’s hippie parents and wanted to make sure she knew what she was getting into, as much as she possibly could know without having experienced it.

Dev’s eyes darted to her rucksack, then back to Emma. “What about after?”

“Let me walk you through this,” Emma said, getting more into her element as a guide to Dev. She had been for a while now, and it was a comfortable role to her. She sat down on the bed and patted the spot beside her, and Dev didn’t hesitate to sit next to her. At least she wasn’t scared of her, Emma was very glad of that.

“If you agree, you’ll lay over my knee. I’ll spank you with my hand first–”

“What about my clothes?” Dev interrupted, biting her lip.

“I’ll pull down your pajama bottoms and your underwear,” Emma answered immediately. “I’m not about to spank you without seeing what I’m doing.”

Dev’s face heated up considerably. The idea embarrassed her, but she guessed she could see the point to that. She nodded for Emma to go on.

“I’ll start with my hand,” she reiterated. “And once I’m satisfied, I’ll use the hairbrush to end things as a deterrent to you staying up so late next time.”

“Once you’re satisfied?” Dev asked, shaking her head. “What does that mean?”

Emma shrugged. She couldn’t quite explain it, but she knew from her own experience that there was a point in a spanking where you were done, when you’d gotten the point and you’d given up. But she wasn’t sure how to articulate that. Emma wasn’t the best with feelings, that was Dev’s territory.

“You’ll just have to see,” was the best answer she could give. “After I’ve spanked you, you and I can talk about it, and about how you can avoid it happening again in the future – or if it’s even something we think we should consider for the future.”

Dev weighed her options, falling silent for once. It wasn’t a state Emma saw her in very often, and she could see the cogs turning in Dev’s head.

“Fine,” Dev said, nodding. “I’ll do it. I trust you.”

Those three little words alleviated a lot of Emma’s nerves. She had been so worried Dev would see her as some kind of sadist who just wanted to hurt her for her own pleasure, or an abuser who would look for any little reason to hit her. But Dev trusted her, and Emma would treat that trust like the solemn privilege she knew it was.

Emma sat up straight and squared her shoulders, and Dev felt rather small and childish even sitting next to her tall and elegant friend when she looked so imposing.

“Alright, then. If we’re going to do this, let’s do it. My hairbrush is on the righthand side of my desk, in the middle drawer. Bring it to me.”

It was almost surreal, Dev thought, to hear those words from Emma and know she was going to be spanked. A sheen of sweat surfaced down her back, and she walked over as if in a haze. Then she was once again standing before Emma, and Emma took the implement from her and set it behind herself to use later.

To make things a little easier on Dev, she simply pulled the girl over her knee. Emma didn’t waste any time making a big show out of disrobing her, instead pulling down her flannel pajama pants and her lacy underwear matter-of-factly.

As quick as the whole process was, It still had an effect on Dev. She could feel Emma’s strong thighs beneath her tummy, and her bottom was suddenly bare… When did Emma’s room get so cold? Her heart thundered in her ears so loudly she almost didn’t hear the first sharp slap hit her skin. She sure felt it, though.

Emma faltered a little when Dev whimpered at the first swat, but she reminded herself that there was definitely going to be more of that to come. She was doing this to help Dev, and she had to be strong about it.

She smacked Dev’s left cheek first, then her right, in approximately the same spot. Then she kept going in a rhythm just like that, swatting the very middle of Dev’s cheeks for a while before moving a little lower.

Dev was already squirming a little, and whimpering, but most of it was just out of pure shock that this was happening at all. She moved a little harder and protested a little louder when it really started to sting, though, and she found it much harder to stay at all composed when Emma swatted the same place over and over again. Her skin was really starting to sting and she wriggled more than she really intended to.

Emma was expecting that, though, and she secured her free arm around Dev’s waist, angling herself to get a better aim. Her own hand was feeling the burn, so she was sure Dev was having a much rougher time of things.

Dev grunted, scrambling for purchase and finally coming to rest with one hand grabbing Emma’s ankle and the other fisted in the bedspread.

“Em,” she said, voice finally breaking through the jarring sound of the smacking echoing off the walls in the room. “Em, please, don’t you think this is enough?” she asked.

“No,” Emma said, shaking her head. “I decide when we’re through here, Kaplan, and we’re not even halfway done.”

Dev was filled with a new sense of dread, and she stared at the carpet and tried to block out the stinging pain in her rear, which was slowly morphing into a steady burn even in the spots were Emma wasn’t currently swatting.

Emma covered her territory thoroughly, reddening every inch of Dev’s cheeks and dipping down onto her lower thighs as well. It was harder work than she had expected it to be, and she had a new appreciation for the times her father had threatened her and her brothers that he would ‘wear his arm out’ spanking them.

Dev’s eyes started to water a little, and she blinked back tears as they threatened to fall. Her legs kicked seemingly of their own volition, as she was hardly aware of them. Suddenly, Emma stopped swatting altogether and Dev heaved a sigh of relief. It was short lived.

“I’m going to use the hairbrush now,” Emma warned her, and Dev didn’t try to fight it anymore. She let her head drop and she let the tears fall. This spanking was totally endless to her and it felt as if Emma would never let up on setting her bottom alight.

Emma was a bit distraught over Dev’s sudden opening of the floodgates, but she supposed it was all part of the process. She adjusted Dev’s position once more and started with medium force swats, paying special attention to Dev’s sit spots. She was well warmed up, so now it was time to instill a little more long-lasting discipline. It was during these that the talkative girl Emma was so familiar with seemed to emerge, and she babbled over and over again about how sorry she was and how much she wished Emma would stop.

By the time it was over, Dev was a kicking, crying, disheveled mess over Emma’s knee, and Emma felt a good deal of sympathy for her. She laid the hairbrush aside and gently rubbed Dev’s brilliantly red skin.

“It’s over?” Dev asked, her throat thick with emotion and tears.

“Yeah, Kaplan, it’s over,” Emma said, her voice gentler than Dev had heard it all day. Dev’s tense muscles finally released somewhat, and she let Emma guide her onto the bed on her tummy. She hugged Emma’s pillow with one arm, crying into it, and used her free hand to rub her behind. It didn’t seem to help much at first.

Emma went ahead and laid down beside her, snuggling close rubbing her back. That calmed Dev somewhat.

“Do you know why I get so frustrated with you?” she asked after a moment, sighing.

Dev shook her head into the pillow.

“It’s because I really want you to be kind to yourself. You deserve it,” Emma said seriously. “And as much as I’d like to say I will be here for you forever, that’s not true. We both know that. I’m a senior, and I’ll be trying to get my career off the ground in less than a year. You have to learn how to help yourself. I’m really not yelling at you and bossing you around for my own amusement, I promise.”

“Will you still come see me, though?” Dev asked, dismayed and upset all over again at the thought of her friend disappearing so soon. Dev didn’t like to think about it, but Emma was right. She’d known all along that they wouldn’t have much time together here.

“Of course,” Emma said, nodding. “You know better than anyone that I really don’t have a copacetic relationship with much of my family. I’d love to use my breaks to come see you.” She moved on from Dev’s back and carded her hand through her hair, her fingers catching in a few knotted curls here and there. “But just because I’m going to come back here and see you, and maybe knock some sense into you if you need it, that doesn’t mean I enjoy or approve of watching you self destruct, for absolutely no reason,” she said, her tone stern once more.

Dev heaved a shuddering breath and nodded. She could understand that, much as she didn’t wish to admit it.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t want to worry you. I just want to get As on my midterms.”

“Dev,” Emma said, her first name spilling from her lips as a frustrated breath. “You don’t need to run yourself ragged to do that. You’re smart and you already study hard. I’ve seen your reports, and you know what? You can do really, really well. You know that. When have your student reports been the most outstanding?” she asked, expectantly awaiting an answer.

“When I’m doing what you tell me?” Dev answered, sniffling through her words.


“Right. And since we’ve known each other, sometimes those reports look pretty awful. They’re the aftermath of the days when you didn’t sleep for three days straight, or got so drunk that you were too hungover to go to any of your classes, or not sleeping. We’ve talked about this one a lot, haven’t we?” she asked.

Dev frowned sullenly into the pillow. But she nodded.

“I guess we have. I didn’t realize.” She let her eyes drift closed and Emma noticed her breathing slowing. “I’ll try harder,” Dev sighed finally, her speech a little slurred with sleep deprivation. “I really will. I’ve been trying to do what you tell me to do, because of our agreement and just because I don’t like it when you’re angry at me. But I’ll start trying for real, so you don’t have to worry about me when you’re gone.”

“It’s not really about me,” Emma reminded her in low tones, reaching up and brushing a few stray tears off Dev’s freckled cheeks. “It’s about you, doing what’s best for yourself. That’s all. Okay? I don’t want you to be more concerned with worrying me or making me angry than you are with taking care of yourself. I want that to be your primary concern.”

Dev was already mostly asleep and Emma knew she wasn’t getting an answer out of her at the moment, but this was a conversation that could easily be had tomorrow morning instead.

She got up and got into pajamas, herself, then turned out the lights and climbed into bed beside Dev.

Emma really did care about Dev a lot, and that scared her a fair bit. She was used to being alone and only having to look out for her own interests, so this was uncharted territory for her. But she thought it was probably good territory to explore, anyway. ‘

She whispered goodnight, and was answered only with soft breaths. The events of the day seemed to sweep over her like a wave, and before she knew it, she was deeply in sleep right alongside Dev. As taxing as it had been on both of them, Emma had found a way to make her wish come true.

Contest Entry #12 : A Wish Come Through

 

Readers,

We’ll all be up to our ears (thank goodness!) in new reading material thanks to the   ‘Spanking Wish’ contest  .

Enjoy!

– Dana

 

**********

“A Wish Come Through”

IT WAS Anthony’s 60th Birthday. As he blew out the candles he made the two-part wish he always wished on birthdays, when the first star appeared at night, and even when he received the larger piece of the wish bone.

Turning 60 years old, 6’5,” just a bit over weight, good looking, intelligent with a fantastic sense of humor. Anthony never looked his age; in fact, most would guess his age to be under 50. Anthony lived alone in a 4-room apartment in a very prestigious location surrounded by students, few good friends and some very wealthy people. Anthony was divorced 18 months ago after being married fourteen years. Since his divorce, he had met three different ladies.
Anthony was normal in every way with one exception; he was turned on by spanking and domestic discipline. He had enjoyed this from the age of 18. He introduced all his girlfriends to a stinging red hot sore bottom. Anthony scolded his girlfriends for anything he would consider punishable by a spanking. The very first girlfriend he spanked was four years older than he, but if she didn’t “toe the line” she found herself across his lap like a naughty little girl being soundly spanked until tears flowed, she begged for the spanking to stop and humbly apologized. Almost every time they went out Anthony found a reason to spank her. It was the era of miniskirts and hot pants. He made sure her hot pants were always hot. She lived with her parents so most of the spanking took place in the car while parked in her parent’s driveway. Her sister walked up to the car late one evening and she quietly watched her sister kicking her legs, crying like a child as her bare bottom went from pink to a deep red. She really teased her about it. Her mother also knew she was getting spanked on a regular basis. She took Anthony aside and claimed there was a change in her behavior and thanked Anthony for disciplining her daughter. After about nine months Anthony broke up with her. He was very happy but felt something was missing. She wanted to marry but he wouldn’t.

The next ten years were basically the same. If his girlfriend misbehaved she was spanked. He made sure they were well spanked. He loved when they had their own apartment. He initiated corner time, mouth washing for cursing or talking back and other humiliating punishments. Anthony wasn’t an angel; in fact, one of his girlfriends expressed belief that his behavior was just as bad if not worse and he needed to be spanked.

After she made this comment on two different occasions he took his belt off and offered to take a strapping. She took the strap but flung it on the chair and said she couldn’t do it. Anthony, very curious about getting spanked, was disappointed.  He had hated getting the strap when he was a child but having to submit to a lady somehow stirred his imagination. He had heard about ladies spanking their man and he was curious to experience as well as give them.
Anthony started to become more interested in females spanking males. He read stories, watched movies and checked out magazines. He wondered what it would be like to have a relationship with a lady that would stand up to him, be determined and unrelenting and give him a sound spanking when she decided he needed it. Anthony would always wish to meet a lady like that. At the age of 36 he was hanging out at discos, he didn’t have a steady girlfriend but did meet lots of ladies at the club where he would talk, dance a bit and offer them some cocaine. Anthony was a heavy user. Most ladies he met would take him up on his offer. They would go to a motel and after a short time he would convince her she needed a spanking; he spanked her and then they would have sex.
It was a regular Sunday night, and, as usual Anthony was at the disco drinking, partying and everything else. He met a young lady who was with her friend. They started to talk, dance, and Anthony bought a few drinks for both of them. He didn’t offer them any drugs. Afterward she asked him to come back to her apartment. Anthony saw an opportunity and accepted.

When they arrived at her apartment the lady changed into a very sexy skimpy outfit. Anthony was sure she would be across his lap in due time.  She sat on his lap and a minute later jumped up and ran to the bathroom. She had too much to drink and was sick.
Anthony was disappointed but he figured he would hit on her friend. They started to talk and she claimed she was engaged to be married in less than a year. Anthony spent about three hours in conversation. Naturally he brought up his favorite subject. She said she was turned on by hand spanking. Her fantasy was to be made to strip naked be taken across a man’s lap and be spanked. Anthony offered to spank her but again she reminded him that she was engaged and that she also said she didn’t want to wake anyone.  Her fiancé didn’t know of her spanking fetish. They talked and talked. Anthony confessed to her his fantasy about being taken over the lap of a lady and given a good spanking.

Anthony had to be at work in three hours. He went home, slept a bit, got up and went to work. He thought about this lady all day. She was 5’10” and muscular.  He could really picture himself across her lap.

Two weeks went by and Anthony was at his favorite disco. It wasn’t very crowded. About a half hour after he arrived the lady who had occupied his thoughts for two weeks walked up and kissed him. She said she was thinking about what they talked about and really wanted a spanking. She suggested they leave and go to a motel. Who could resist?

They each drove their own cars. Anthony rented the room. As soon as they walked in Angela stripped and pulled out the straight back chair that was in the room. She lay across Anthony’s lap. Anthony knew what to do. He gave her a long hard spanking, she cried and cried. After they didn’t have sex but did “play around.” She told Anthony she would see him again soon. Anthony was beaming with delight.

The following Sunday, same time, same place he meets Angela. Anthony brought a paddle with him. As soon as they were in the room she stripped nude and lay across his lap. About half way through Anthony produced the paddle and really burned her bottom. Anthony could tell she was upset and that her bottom really hurt. Her bottom was almost blistered it was ashen white. She had emphasized that it was imperative no marks were left in fear that her fiancé would see them. Anthony lay on the bed while Angela went into the bathroom. Several minutes later Angela came out of the bathroom and without saying a word she proceeded to bind Anthony’s ankles to his wrist. Anthony was shocked it happened so fast. Angela was determined nothing could stop her. She got Anthony’s belt from his pants she whipped the front of his legs and his bottom down to the back of his knees. By the time she was finished he had welts from his waist to his knees front and back. She gave him a couple of minutes respite while she explained to him that from now on she will not be the only one being spanked. She sternly told him he was never to use more than his hand on her bottom. She advised him he would never be spanked by hand. She picked up the paddle and started to spank his bare bottom unmercifully until it was bruised and blistered and red and purple. She untied the rope and escorted him to the corner. She told him not to speak or move and to keep his hands on his head. He obeyed without question. While he was in the corner she left.

The next day Anthony was driving to work his bottom burned and sitting was quite painful but he was aroused, he couldn’t understand it. He called Angela to apologize and she told him to meet her on Wednesday.
Wednesday night Anthony was standing at the disco bar having a cocktail when Angela came over to him and whispered into his ear: “I know you were a naughty boy and you need a spanking.” Anthony was excited but a bit apprehensive; his bottom was not quite healed from Sunday. She put a small package in his pocket, pointed to the bathroom and told him to put them on. Angela had placed a plastic bag with pink frilly panties in his pocket. He was nervous but took off his underwear and replaced them with the panties. He had his underwear in his pocket, Angela took his underwear out and disposed of it in the thrash.

Once at the motel Angela stripped naked, had Anthony sit in the straight back chair and she eagerly went across his lap. Anthony gave her a sound spanking but dare not used more than his hand. He could tell by the way her body shuddered while across his lap she was thoroughly aroused. Anthony let her up and she scurried to the bathroom. He was nervous when she told him to strip down to his underwear. She came out wearing leather pants, boots and a leather bra. She led Anthony to the corner, she placed a small circle on the wall and told him to keep his nose in the circle, his hands on his head and his mouth shut.

Thirty minutes later she took him out of the corner, told him to keep his hands on his head and not to speak unless she asked him a question. She now sat in the straight back chair. There was a wicked looking wood bath brush in her lap. She told him when she patted her lap with the brush he was to lie across her lap hands flat on the floor, legs stretched, with toes touching on the other side. She lowered his panties and she took him across her lap. When Anthony was adjusted to her satisfaction, she had him look in the full-size mirror. He was so embarrassed at what he saw–a fully grown man over the lap of a lady who was 10 inches shorter than him’ waiting, pink panties at his ankles, bottom bare for a spanking. She spanked his bare bottom nonstop for thirty minutes, one cheek to the other. Concentrating on one cheek for ten spanks and then to the other. She let him up and instructed him to go back to the corner with his nose in the circle. She informed him any movement and she would start again. Anthony bottom was burning hot and very sore but he obeyed without question.

He noticed on the bed two pillows, one on top of the other. There was a heavy leather tawse resting on top. He knew his bottom would be beaten severely and hurt for several days. He knew he would not be sitting comfortable. He started to say something and she grabbed him by the arm taking him into the bathroom. There were the small bars of soap they provide in the Motel. She opened one briskly, soaping it up she made him hold it in his mouth for the thirty-minute stay in the corner. After the corner time she made him rinse the soap from his mouth. She instructed him to lie across the pillows so his bottom was higher than the rest of his body. She picked up the tawse and went to work.

Anthony had welts sores and blisters to his knees. When she finished she had him lie on the bed. He was extremely embarrassed and his bottom very sore.  This went on at least twice a week. Anthony’s bottom always showed evidence of being
severely beaten and he had to take care at the gym that no one saw his belabored bottom. He always had to wear the pink punishment panties. She taught him the proper way to worship and service a lady.

Anthony and Angela got together right up till two days before she was married. It always ended up where she was hand spanked and Anthony was severely spanked. She always introduced different instruments. Anthony’s bottom felt various paddles, straps (leather and rubber), some small whips and even the cane. One evening he received 100 strokes of the cane after a strapping. That was probably the most severe spanking he received.

Anthony kept looking for someone like Angela. He mostly met ladies that would accept a spanking but would not reciprocate. He met a lady that he fell in love with and eventually married. He told her from the beginning what turned him on. She tried but she always ended up spanking his lower back, not good when you have a bad back. Her idea of getting a spanking was quite unusual. Anthony tried to stay content in this vanilla marriage. He showed her books, movies, etc. He finally decided he would try to forget the lifestyle and become vanilla. There was always something missing. They lasted 14 years together. They finally divorced.
Anthony was now fifty-eight and he still longed to meet that special lady. He ran ads and joined clubs. The first lady he met was a switch. She could take a moderately severe spanking. She could really give a good sound spanking. The problem, she was married. Anthony met two submissives that he played with quite a few times. One was half his age. Something was missing. Every birthday and every time he received the larger end of a wish bone or saw the first star in the night sky he always wished for the same thing. That special lady who could take a spanking but also reverse the role and give a sound spanking. He wanted a sincere relationship that included spankings and domestic discipline. Six months went by everyday he checked the kinky personals, but no luck.

It was a month before his birthday. He needed to do some bank business. He went into his bank and his eyes immediately caught this most beautiful lady. She was 5’11” and she wore a very severe looking business suit. She was the assistant branch manager. He sat and waited to conduct business with the bank officer. Thirty minutes later this most remarkable lady walked to where he was sitting and he followed her to her office. He was intoxicated by her perfume. She was ten years younger than Anthony and was recently divorced. They seemed to “hit it off” like they knew each other for years. Anthony decided to ask her out.

He asked her to dinner that weekend and she quickly accepted. He dressed in his best suit and went to his hair dresser for a trim. He picked her up, she looked ravishingly. He took her to his favorite restaurant had a great dinner, a bottle of wine and great conversation. They had a lot in common. Anthony didn’t mention anything about his fetish for fear of scaring her away. The next week they spoke almost every day, sometimes twice. After three weeks they were very close and talked about everything. Anthony still didn’t mention what he really wanted. She did have a certain air about her and could be bossy. Anthony gave her a set of keys to his apartment and told her she was welcomed to come over any time. She did. On occasion she would stop by for lunch. She worked only a mile from Anthony’s apartment. Several times Anthony came home and Lorna would be making dinner or watching television.

They had been together about six weeks and they did have sexual relations, but Anthony really wanted some kinky play.
Anthony’s birthday was coming up in two weeks. He would be sixty. He looked about 45. Lorna said she would see him later in the evening, she had to work late. Anthony went to his Mom’s for dinner and the usual ice cream cake with his brother, his girlfriend and aunt. He made the same wish he always made when he blew out the candles.

He pulled in his driveway about nine o’clock. He noticed Lorna was at his apartment. She claimed she had a special gift for him. He walked in his door and although, dark but he could see a bit of light coming from the bedroom. He could smell Lorna’s intoxicating perfume. He noticed his kitchen was cleaned. He had a bad habit of stacking things on the kitchen counters. They were all clear. Lorna called from the bedroom,”Anthony would you please come in here.” It was a bit strange because she usually would greet him at the door. He walked into the bedroom and Lorna was sitting on the bed dressed in her business clothes. Anthony sat beside her. She seemed different in some way. She proceeded to explain that she didn’t have to work late. The times she came to the apartment when Anthony was not there she saw several movie clips Anthony had saved on his television. The majority of them showed grown men being spanked and disciplined by women.  She always had the attitude that a man’s place was across her lap when he didn’t listen to her. She realized that Anthony was her type of man. He needed a strong woman to keep him in line and this was confirmed when she looked in his closet and found a gym bag with several spanking implements and several canes deep in the far corner of the closet. Without saying another word she sternly ordered Anthony to stand in front of her hands, at his side.

She unbuckled his bel, loosened his pants and slid his pants and under pants to his ankles. He started to say something and she smacked him across the face and said “silence”! She produced the wood hair brush that she found in his bag. She ordered him across her lap and when in position she raised the hairbrush above her shoulder and began to earnestly spank his bare bottom. She stopped briefly and said “Happy Birthday”.

   age. Something was missing. Every birthday and every time he received the larger end of a wish bone or saw the first star in the night sky he always wished for the same thing. That special lady who could take a spanking but also reverse the role and give a sound spanking. He wanted a sincere relationship that included spankings and domestic discipline. Six months went by everyday he checked the kinky personals, but no luck.

It was a month before his birthday. He needed to do some bank business. He went into his bank and his eyes immediately caught this most beautiful lady. She was 5’11” and she wore a very severe looking business suit. She was the assistant branch manager. He sat and waited to conduct business with the bank officer. Thirty minutes later this most remarkable lady walked to where he was sitting and he followed her to her office. He was intoxicated by her perfume. She was ten years younger than Anthony and was recently divorced. They seemed to “hit it off” like they knew each other for years. Anthony decided to ask her out.

He asked her to dinner that weekend and she quickly accepted. He dressed in his best suit and went to his hair dresser for a trim. He picked her up, she looked ravishingly. He took her to his favorite restaurant had a great dinner, a bottle of wine and great conversation. They had a lot in common. Anthony didn’t mention anything about his fetish for fear of scaring her away. The next week they spoke almost every day, sometimes twice. After three weeks they were very close and talked about everything. Anthony still didn’t mention what he really wanted. She did have a certain air about her and could be bossy. Anthony gave her a set of keys to his apartment and told her she was welcomed to come over any time. She did. On occasion she would stop by for lunch. She worked only a mile from Anthony’s apartment. Several times Anthony came home and Lorna would be making dinner or watching television.

They had been together about six weeks and they did have sexual relations, but Anthony really wanted some kinky play.
Anthony’s birthday was coming up in two weeks. He would be sixty. He looked about 45. Lorna said she would see him later in the evening, she had to work late. Anthony went to his Mom’s for dinner and the usual ice cream cake with his brother, his girlfriend and aunt. He made the same wish he always made when he blew out the candles.

He pulled in his driveway about nine o’clock. He noticed Lorna was at his apartment. She claimed she had a special gift for him. He walked in his door and although, dark but he could see a bit of light coming from the bedroom. He could smell Lorna’s intoxicating perfume. He noticed his kitchen was cleaned. He had a bad habit of stacking things on the kitchen counters. They were all clear. Lorna called from the bedroom,”Anthony would you please come in here.” It was a bit strange because she usually would greet him at the door. He walked into the bedroom and Lorna was sitting on the bed dressed in her business clothes. Anthony sat beside her. She seemed different in some way. She proceeded to explain that she didn’t have to work late. The times she came to the apartment when Anthony was not there she saw several movie clips Anthony had saved on his television. The majority of them showed grown men being spanked and disciplined by women.  She always had the attitude that a man’s place was across her lap when he didn’t listen to her. She realized that Anthony was her type of man. He needed a strong woman to keep him in line and this was confirmed when she looked in his closet and found a gym bag with several spanking implements and several canes deep in the far corner of the closet. Without saying another word she sternly ordered Anthony to stand in front of her hands, at his side.

She unbuckled his bel, loosened his pants and slid his pants and under pants to his ankles. He started to say something and she smacked him across the face and said “silence”! She produced the wood hair brush that she found in his bag. She ordered him across her lap and when in position she raised the hairbrush above her shoulder and began to earnestly spank his bare bottom. She stopped briefly and said “Happy Birthday”.

Contest Entry #11 : Power Exchange

 

Spankos,

I hope you have a full cup of coffee, because there are a LOT more entries for the  ‘Spanking Wish’ contest  . Here’s another.

Enjoy!

– Dana

 

**********

“Power Exchange”

She answered the door to a completely unlikely couple. Certainly not your grandpa’s appliance repair service.
The young man was full of blond and bluster. He wore a black leather belt with every assortment of gadget on it. She was tall, with long, loose red hair and she carried a toolkit. She was smiling meekly now.
“Ms. Kan” he started, “It’s Adam and Ashley, we’re from Well-Grounded Technical.”
“First of all,” she corrected, “it’s not Ms. Kan. It’s ‘Kane’ – pronounced like an aid you might say…walk…with.”
“Ms. Kan, can…” He paused and dug an elbow into his mortified partner’s side. “Kan, can,” he giggled.
“Ms. Kan, can you tell us what happened to the equipment?”
She looked at the young man. It was the same familiar pattern. How many times had she seen it? They were always brave at a distance. And brave in packs. She knew from experience that his fair skin would redden quickly. She guessed that tears weren’t unlikely.
She reached out and gently touched his arm, staring into his eyes. “Make it ‘Kane’ please,” she purred. “We’ll talk about this.”
She explained the power outage to them. “I don’t pretend to understand the technology. I wish you could just get all this stuff running again.”
“Have no fear, ma’am.” He winked at Ashley. “We’re here to make your wish come true!”
“Ashley,” he said, “if you can double-check that junction box down the street, I’ll have a looksie here at Ms. Kan’s, I mean Ms. Kane’s setup.”
He closed the door behind Ashley and turned back. “Have no fear! The difficult we accomplish immediately. The impossible takes a little longer.”
She moved two steps closer to Adam. They were the same height. Her eyes were level with his.
“What did your mother do when you were disrespectful?”
“My mother?” His eyes flitted away and back several times. “I don’t really remember. I’m sure they can’t do that kind of stuff anymore, anyway.”
“Was it on the bare bottom?”
His face reddened. “What? No, I don’t know if I know what you mean. I mean…” He sighed and looked away. “Maybe, yeah.”
“So, there’s hope. Follow me,” she said, cheerfully. “I’ll show you where all technology comes to a grinding halt.”
When he saw the extra bedroom, he just stopped in the doorway and shook his head.
“Good grief! Your server rack is next to a six-foot cat high-rise. It’s no wonder you’re having problems.”
“Not only is it on the rug of that tower thing,” he said in awe, “but I can see hair on the cables and in the ports, covering the fan exhaust, dangling from the server rack.” He sighed. “I’ll need to clean all of this up first. Did you change anything in here before it stopped working?”
“Not really,” she said. “I did add one more level to the cat tree and the VGF (Very Good Feline) likes to be able to see the doorway. So I had to turn it and rearrange some of the cordage to make that happen. But nothing significant.”
Adam scanned the room, appearing to pause momentarily at the metal container in the corner of the room which held a dozen or so of her canes. He didn’t comment, but asked her instead for a vacuum.
As she left Adam and his dark technology arts in the room with her upright, she said “Let me know if you need help turning it on.”
An hour later, Adam and Ashley were preparing to leave. Adam had done marvelous housecleaning and the electrons or photons or whatever were now flowing at high speed to the internet, to and from her hungry audience of fans. The problem had turned out being one of sheer simplicity.
“Thank you both so much for your excellent work. You’ve certainly made my wish come true.”
“Adam,” she added, “I’m sure your mother valued punctuality.”
Soon it was evening, and as he had answered her wish earlier, she was now making a wish of his come true, even if he wasn’t appreciating it at the particular moment.
It had taken him a long time to request the follow-up call, but here he was. He knew the rules, knew he could leave at any time, but she knew he wouldn’t.
A good while back, after many minutes of strong spanking on fabric, she’d lowered his clean, white briefs. Down they’d slid over the curve of his muscular, rounded bottom, and she was now slapping that bottom a darker shade of pink with her palm. She knew it hurt him and that he was desperately looking for diversions. Moving his hand back to cover his bottom hadn’t been successful. That never worked with her, but he had needed to try. Just as he had needed to joke about her name.
Over the years her hand had toughened with experience, and she now enjoyed the good solid connection of hand and bottom. It was a very direct connection between her and someone that craved that sharp pain and correction that she could bring. It felt like her hand was reaching past, through, that sore, trembling skin and grabbing hold of something deep in his soul.
His jokes about her Red Room had stopped awhile back. As had his wriggling around. It wouldn’t be long, she thought as she paddled Adam, before he started pleading with his momentary mother to stop the punishment (“Please Mom, please it hurts. Oh, it hurts so much Mommy.”) But his real mother wouldn’t have, and neither would she, herself.
“The Can-can is an old dance where they wore long skirts,” he started explaining, between deep breaths, “and they kicked their legs in the air…”
She interrupted, never stopping her vigorous spanking, “I know what the Can-can is – I’m surprised you do. You’ve obviously progressed nicely beyond The Twerk.”
She spoke in his ear. “I think you’re experiencing a different sort of dance now aren’t you, Adam?” She chuckled softly. “It’s called the Lap Dance, and many of the participants kick their legs in the air too!”
After she had punished him, after his eternity had ended, after she had soothed his bottom with a light massage, after she’d applied cooling lotion, she had waited for him to dress and given him a sincere hug. Below his soft and respectful gaze, his cheeks were still damp and red. She knew that the spanking had stirred memories, and that his bottom would be a sore reminder of this evening for several days.
Before turning, he looked at her and suggested with extreme politeness: “Really, you could avoid future outages if you plugged the power strip into the wall instead of into itself.”
“And if I did that,” she said, smiling, “how would you have your wishes granted in the future?”
“Thank you again so much,” he said as he went out the front door, rubbing his bottom gently. “Oh, Ms. Kan, can Ashley make a followup call some day soon?  She mentioned to me how she’d hate to see interruptions in your work.”