Tag: spanking stories

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

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“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.

Here we go!

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

Enjoy~

– Dana

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“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.

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.”

Readers,

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

Enjoy~

– Dana

**********

“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

Readers,

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

Enjoy!

– Dana

**********

“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.

Readers,

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

Enjoy!

– Dana

**********

“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.

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

**********

“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.