Winner of the ‘What the Camera Saw’ spanking story contest!

January’s story writing contest, ‘What the Camera Saw’ was a bit tricky, implying that the story should be written from the perspective of the author, and our writers rose well to the challenge. While not all entrants delivered their stories in first-person format, I know you’ll agree that all the entries (which you’ll read here throughout the month of February) are excellent additions to our ever-growing collection of reader-submitted spanking fiction.

And as always, though all the stories are great – only one can win. (I’ll admit that this choosing was among the most difficult yet – there were several exceptional entries.) 

This month’s spanking story winner and recipient of a personally-delivered spanking ‘prize’ from me, is:

I was initially drawn to the open abandoned farm field behind my house to take some pictures of a crazed flock of crows I had been observing all morning from my home office window. I was positioned along an old fence line taking shots of the fighting, squawking birds with my camera, when I suddenly noticed someone off to my right on the edge of a small island of overgrown brush and trees. Once I had a chance to focus in, I realized it was Jane, the young lady that lived in the house that abutted the back corner of my property. She appeared to be trimming branches with pruning shears and collecting them in a bundle. She didn’t notice me, and I didn’t seek her attention; I was still trying to get some good shots of the crows, who were now gathering very closely to where I crouched.

Suddenly I heard another voice call out rather harshly, “Hurry up Jane! Quit dawdling!!” I couldn’t see her, but it sounded like Mary, the lady that lived with Jane in that old secluded house. I had met the two of them a few months prior at a local zoning meeting at the church around the corner.  They seemed at the time an odd pair to me. Jane was young, probably in her early 30s, very attractive. Mary seemed a bit older, mid-to late 40s, maybe even early 50s. She struck me as rather matronly, very austere looking. And she spoke that way too, very proper, like a strict schoolteacher. I wondered at the time what their story was; were they just roommates, or something more?

I was snapping pictures of the birds when I thought I heard someone cry out. Not loudly, but a subdued squeal. I couldn’t see anyone, but noticed that Jane was no longer on the edge of the tree line where I had seen her earlier. Again, I heard a distressed voice, it sounded like a female yelling “OWWW.” I began walking down the fence line in the direction of the voice. Suddenly, I saw the two of them in a small clearing, completely surrounded by brush and trees. It looked like a little hollow where deer might seek cover during the winter. I could only see their heads. Jane’s back was to Mary, and Mary appeared to be tying something across Jane’s mouth, a bright blue scarf or something similar. She then turned Jane around and began speaking to her in a very animated fashion. I couldn’t make it out, but it sure sounded like Mary was scolding Jane, she looked angry about something.

I crept slowly and quietly further down the fence line and tucked myself in front of a big old hackberry tree. The two of them were now in full view to me, but I was somewhat hidden from them behind the brush. They were standing next to a large fallen oak tree lying flat across the ground. A picnic blanket was spread across the trunk of the tree. Suddenly, Mary turned Jane around to face the tree and pushed her head forward, causing Jane to fall gently across the blanket on her stomach. To my astonishment, Jane’s pants were down around her knees! Mary then reached down and pulled Jane’s panties down, met the crumpled pants already gathered around her knees, and pulled both down to the tops of her boots. I could hear Mary clearly now:  “The next time I instruct you to trim the azaleas properly, Jane, that is exactly what I expect you to do!  I warned you last week what would happen if you sass me when I offer constructive criticism about your work around the house, didn’t I?” Mary nodded her head up and down; the scarf was tied tightly across her open mouth. Her eyes were wide and she looked kind of terrified. Mary then dropped her head down, hanging low over the side of the wide log. Her bare bottom was completely exposed across the topside of the log.

Mary bent down and picked up a bundle of sticks – it was a tightly bound bundle of thin, wispy looking branches, reddish and purple in color. She swished the bundle through the air several times. I could hear the hissing sound of the branches as they cut through the air. Without another word, Mary positioned herself next to the log, and grasping the branches in her left hand she raised the bundle high in the air and brought it down swiftly across Jane’s bottom. Jane let out a muffled cry. Mary was facing my direction and I could see a glimmer in her eye; she was almost smirking as she looked down at Jane’s exposed bottom. Again she brought the switch down in a fluid rapid motion. Jane jerked and cried out again, the sounds muffled well beneath the scarf. Mary then began to methodically strike Jane over and over, again and again, in a very slow, controlled fashion. She appeared to relish it.

Without giving it a thought, I had begun videotaping what I saw before me with my camera. I zoomed in and framed the two of them perfectly. I could now clearly see the look of delight on Mary’s face as she laid the switch across Jane’s bottom again and again. Jane was clearly distressed, bobbing her head up and down, her muffled cries sounding more and more frantic. Her firm toned bottom was crisscrossed with red stripes and angry welts. Tiny specs of bright red appeared here and there. Mary held her determination and continued laying the strokes on, each one harder and more deliberate than the last.

I have to admit, watching this through my camera was turning me on. It seemed like it had gone on forever, but in reality I was probably watching them for not much more than 5 minutes. My knees were starting to ache as I crouched there behind the bush. I tried to adjust my position when suddenly a loud “SNAP” cracked across the field. Damn! When I shifted my weight I stepped onto a dead oak stick and it cracked in two…loudly! Mary immediately looked up, directly toward my position. I could see her steely eyes through the camera; she was looking right at me.

“Who’s there?” Mary called out, in her haughty indignant tone. I was paralyzed. If she took two steps toward me she would spot me behind the bush. I decided to make my presence known. I tucked the camera in my pocket and sheepishly came out from behind the bush. Mary looked me square in the eye from 20 yards away across the opening. She did not look uncomfortable, as if she were caught doing something embarrassing – she looked angry, intruded upon. Jane’s head was up now; I could see her eyes were red and teary.  She dropped her head back down and remained exactly where she was positioned over that log. “I’m sorry; I was taking pictures of the Crows. I didn’t mean to disturb you,” I finally offered. “I’m sure you didn’t,” she replied sarcastically.  “Michael, isn’t it?”…



… Mary led the way, followed by Jane and then myself, as we wound our way from the field into a denser patch of woods toward their house, which was rather secluded on a 5 acre wooded plot. I couldn’t believe I was actually willingly following these two. What was Mary planning? Why did she threaten to tell my wife about my voyeurism if I didn’t do what she asked?  Watching Jane walk along in front of me, I kept envisioning that tight little ass of hers stretched across the log. She had to be feeling that thrashing that Mary had given her.  But she seemed happy, chatting jokingly with Mary as we walked along.

We reached the back door of their house a few minutes later. Mary asked me to come in and make myself comfortable on the couch. I heard Mary and Jane whispering in the kitchen, and then Jane disappeared somewhere in the house without a word.  Mary came into the living room a moment later with a glass of lemonade, handed it to me, and then sat down across from me in a leather recliner. She had a very determined look on her face, and stared directly at me, piercing me with her cold eyes. “So, did you enjoy what you saw back in the field, Michael,” she finally said.  “I wouldn’t say I enjoyed it,” I stuttered, caught off guard. “I think you did,” Mary retorted. “Why else would you have been hiding behind that bush?”  “Clearly, you could have walked away and minded your own business.” I said nothing; I didn’t know what to say. I did enjoy it, I was thinking to myself, it was freaking hot!

“Would you mind showing me some of the pictures you took of the Crows, Michael?  I am so fascinated with those creatures.”  I sat paralyzed, sensing that she suspected me of filming her switching Jane earlier.  “Come now, show me,” she urged, with a slight grin forming on her face.  She abruptly stood up and walked over to the couch and sat next to me to view the pictures along with me.  I pulled the camera out of my pocket to switch it to picture view mode, but she was at my side too quickly. There it was, clear as day, a close-up of Mary, with the switch raised in the air, and Jane’s bare bottom exposed over the log – frozen in time on the video view screen.  “Interesting,” Mary murmured, staring at my camera without expression, “very interesting.” She placed the camera in the front pocket of her skirt.

A lengthy lecture from Mary followed.  In short order, she informed me that she knew my wife rather well, they had talked a number of times about the zoning issue. And Mary also took my wife’s yoga class at the Y three times a week.  They had actually had lunch several times!  I was baffled; my wife had never mentioned any of this to me.  Mary also described in elaborate detail how it was well known amongst the ladies in the neighborhood that I was somewhat of a flirt, though harmless for the most part. Everyone thought it was cute, yet they also felt I acted disrespectful toward my wife.  “She’s much too lenient on you Michael,” she said. “I would handle you much differently if you were my husband.” On and on she went, while I sat in silence, feeling more and more uncomfortable with each passing minute. Does she think I’m still a teenager or what?

“I’m telling your wife about this Michael,” she suddenly blurted out. “Every detail: sneaking around in the woods behind our home; spying on Jane and I like a peeping Tom; invading our privacy; and your perverted videotaping of our private encounter. I promise you I will deliver the message to her in such a way that you will be sleeping on the couch for a month.” She could see the panicked look in my eyes, and before I could get a pleading word out of my mouth, she threw her hand up as if to say “STOP.” “But,” Mary went on, “I’ll be willing to reconsider under one condition: “You, Michael, MUST be held accountable for your pathetic, juvenile behavior. If you concede to being held accountable by me, right here and right now, Jane and I will let bygones be bygones, and forget that you intruded on our privacy with this camera of yours.” She calmly patted the camera in her pocket, and then folded her arms across her chest.

“Of course, whatever I can do to make amends,” I quickly blurted out, without giving any thought at all to what it would take to satisfy Mary and Jane.  I just knew that I could not, under any circumstance, let this get back to my wife.  She was already on edge about the way I had flirted with some ladies from my office at a business dinner earlier in the week. I thought it was harmless, but she didn’t, and had made that clear to me later that night -she was pissed.  Mary’s story would send her over the edge.  They’re going to ask for money, I thought, so be it…

“Very well, Michael.  As you observed earlier, I am a firm believer in the positive effects of corporal punishment. That switching I gave Jane was not for fun and games, as I’m sure you perceived it. She was sassy, and careless, and in our relationship that is not tolerated. Likewise, I do not think your behavior should be tolerated, so to make amends, you will accept whatever punishment I deem necessary. Is that clear?”  I’m thinking to myself, lady, this is ludicrous. But “yes, whatever it takes, Mary,” is what actually came out of my mouth.

“Follow me please,” she commanded. I followed Mary through the living room to the bottom of the stairs in the front foyer. She stopped, and ever so casually picked up a large, wooden-backed hairbrush off the side table next to the front door. Without a word she then proceeded up the steps, and I followed behind. She was a tall, trim, strong looking woman.  She wore a long gray snug fitting skirt, which came to the top of her meticulously polished black boots. A tight green turtleneck accentuated firm high breasts, and the sleeves were pulled up taught around her powerful looking forearms. She was waving the brush back and forth in an exaggerated fashion with each step, and her hips swayed methodically back and forth as she slowly ascended the steps in a very deliberate manner.

She opened a door at the end of the hall and led me into a rather dark room. The shades were drawn, so only filtered light came into the room. After a second or two my eyes adjusted and I could see Jane, completely nude, standing very erect, hands clasped behind her back, with her nose pointing to the corner. In the middle of the room, all by itself, there sat an antique straight backed chair. A small, single bed hugged the wall opposite. On a nightstand, rather prominently displayed, laid a black leather strap-like instrument, about 2.5” wide by 20” long, with a wooden handle grip attached to one end. It looked old, and very well-worn. Next to it laid a light maple colored paddle, about 4” wide by 18” long, with small holes drilled through the middle area.  Mary watched me intently as I took it all in. Her lips formed a subtle grin; she seemed to enjoy my stunned expression.

“Jane, come here!” The sudden command jolted me out of my worried haze. Mary removed my camera from her skirt pocket and handed it to Jane, who now stood obediently before her. “Jane, you will use Michael’s camera to video the punishment he is about to receive. Since he thought it was cute to tape you getting switched, I think it only fair that you return the favor.  But do not think that I am through with you yet, young lady!  When I am finished blistering this young man’s bottom, you are getting a long hard strapping for your earlier behavior.” “Yes, Ma’am,” Jane murmured, eyes downcast. She then took the camera, fumbled around with it for a bit, aimed it toward the chair in the middle of the room, and said, “OK, I’m ready.”

“Are you ready, Michael?”  I couldn’t speak; nothing came out of my mouth. A feeling of deep dread overwhelmed me and I stood still like a statue.  “Well, it doesn’t matter whether you are, because I am,” Mary said cheerfully. She walked over to the chair, sat down very carefully, laid the brush on the floor next to her, and casually smoothed her skirt over her lap. Then she looked up, directly into my eyes. There was no sign of a grin now, she had a very strict and determined look, as if she meant business, and it was now time to get down to business. “Michael, I want you to stand directly in front of me and remove all of your clothes – everything – and lay them neatly on that table behind you.”  I stood motionless, unable to move.  “Immediately, young man!” I began fumbling with the buttons on my shirt; my hands were trembling and didn’t want to function. “If I have to repeat myself one more time, Michael, you will regret it, I assure you” In what seemed like minutes, I finally laid my folded pants on the dresser and turned to face Mary with only my underwear left on.  She stared intently at me, unblinkingly, as if to say, well, what are you waiting for?  I slowly pulled my black briefs down passed my knees, they dropped down to my ankles, and I slowly stepped out of them. Why did I think it possible to put off indefinitely what was about to happen if I prolonged the time it took to remove my underwear?

I stood before her now completely naked, shivering not from cold, but from nervous tension, from embarrassment, from shame. Here I was, a grown man, standing naked before this lady, a virtual stranger to me, waiting to be punished like a little boy for hiding behind a bush and videotaping a private act between two of my neighbors. Really?  How on earth did I get myself into this?? 

“Come over here and lay across my lap, Michael.”  Just like that, she’s actually gonna do this? Thinking about her earlier threat I complied, and laid myself across her warm, firm lap. She easily held me there, as if it were completely natural to have a grown man across her lap. WHACK! She struck my left cheek with her hand. WHACK! The right one. It stung slightly, but was more of a surprise than anything. WHACK! WHACK! …WHACK! WHACK! The swats were firmer now; I was starting to feel a sting.  WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Her hand began striking my bottom in a steady rhythm now. Over and over swat after swat, up and down the full of my left cheek, then my right. She began to really start laying into me, repeatedly smacking the area where my cheeks meet my thighs, one side and then the other. I began squirming and kicking a little, it really started hurting. Without even realizing it, I was making a lot of noise, “OOOWWWW” and “JEEEEEZZZZ”, and “MARY PLEEEAAASE!” “I’M SOORRRY,” I eventually squealed. But Mary was undeterred. She reached down and picked up the brush and without pause began popping the back of the brush across every inch of my bottom. Several times she laid the flat of the brush across my upper thighs and I howled in pain. I kicked and squirmed but she easily held me in place, at one point throwing her leg over both of mine to hold my feet to the floor.  I tried to reach back to protect my bottom but she quickly grabbed my wrist with her free hand and firmly pinned it to my back. She was strong and relentless, bringing that brush forcefully down over and over again. She continued swatting my burning cheeks in a steady rhythm, her intensity building, each swat harder. I was about to completely lose it, when suddenly she stopped and ordered “Get up Michael, and go stand in the corner, hands at your sides.” I did just that, and didn’t even think about questioning her.  I then realized just how sore my ass was, it was throbbing and burning…a sensation I had never felt before.

I stood in silence for what seemed like 5 minutes or so, but I really had no perception of time. I could see Jane over my shoulder aiming the camera at me in the corner, kneeling down low and focusing in on my bare bottom. Just as my heartbeat started returning to normal, I heard Mary’s heels approaching from the other side of the room. She was at my side, then suddenly grabbed my ear with her right hand, forced my head around, and dragged me by my ear across the room to the foot of the bed. “Young man, I’ve just started with you. Now lay flat across that bed and grab ahold of the rungs in that headboard…DO NOT even think about letting go, is that clear?” I couldn’t even form words before the leather strap slapped hard across both cheeks and a searing pain shot down to my toes. ”OOOUUUCCHH” I yelled. “Yes, I understand!” Mary then instructed Jane to focus the camera on my face.  “You keep your head up and look into that camera, Michael. You’re getting spanked like a naughty little boy, but you’re going to take it like a man.” With that, she laid another hard stroke across my quivering bottom. She was swinging from my right, and the strap bit into the side of my left cheek harshly. I didn’t yell, and kept my head still, but it hurt like hell. Another hard stroke. And another. The small room reverberated with the loud collision of that warn leather meeting my taught ass. CRACK! SMACK! The pain was building. Without a word, Mary then began laying on stroke after stroke in rapid succession. She brought the strap up and then swung back down full force, snapping her wrist at the end of the stroke and following through for full affect.  Each stroke landed perfectly flat, and with devastating results. I began kicking and screaming for her to stop, but managed to keep ahold of the headboard. I sooo badly wanted to reach back and protect my burning ass. Finally, she stopped, and I gasped for breath, almost in shock with the pain she was causing me. With three quick steps, she appeared on the other side of the bed, raised the strap, and then brought it down harshly, biting into the side of my right cheek. “OWWWW!!” I howled. Without pause, Mary then proceeded to lay a dozen swats across my ass from that side. After the 5th stroke I was literally screaming, kicking and squirming, promising I’ll never do it again, crying out how sorry I was. It fell on deaf ears. She continued on, hard stroke after hard stroke, at full force the strap bit into my sore bottom. I had completely lost control by the time she brought the 12th brutal stroke down. I was in a state of panic, not sobbing, but crying to some degree, tears forming in my eyes. I was breathing heavily, and my cheeks were numb. I heard her footsteps cross back to the middle of the room, and she sat down in the chair. I dropped my head down to the mattress, tried to regain my breath, and felt the searing heat building across every inch of my bottom, from the start of my crack down to my thighs. I was stunned.

Jane had filmed the whole thing. How humiliating. What if someone were to see this?  Me, lying across a bed, completely naked, being strapped to tears by my neighbor! Did Jane feel the same way when she learned that I was filming her? As I lay there, thinking about Jane’s naked ass being switched by this same woman, I found myself becoming aroused. I slowly started grinding my hips in a circular motion against the bed. The pain in my bottom was present but subsiding, and I felt relaxed in that moment, not in the least bit conscience of the two women who were watching me squirm on that bed, admiring my red, sore bare bottom.

Mary’s heels again rang out across that wooden floor.  “OK, Michael, get up and come back over to this chair.”  I complied, but rather slowly, aware now that I was indeed in a somewhat aroused state. I saw Jane grinning when I stood up, and then I turned to face Mary. “Oh my,” Mary laughed. “I assure you, THAT will not last long young man. Come now, over to this chair.” She had the paddle in her hand, and was tapping it across the palm of her other hand, staring me straight in the eye as I approached. “Bend over the back of this chair and grab ahold of the seat, Michael.  I want that naughty bottom of yours displayed proudly.” She adjusted me meticulously over the chair; hand on the small of my back urging me to bend further over, spreading my feet slightly, and pushing my head down. “Now, Michael, to be sure you learn your lesson, I am going to administer 12 very hard swats with my antique Spencer Paddle. If those hands move, I’ll start over. Understood?” “Please, Mary, I begged, I can’t take this!!” “You can take it, and you will take it.” Before I could object further, the first swat connected solidly across the very center of both cheeks. A loud crack bounced around the room. “OOOUUUCCCCHHHH!!!” I yelled. I heard Jane giggling from somewhere behind me. I could see Mary out of the corner of my eye, her hips twisting slightly, her shirt pulling up as her right arm raised up and back, and then the swift twist back and …WHAAACCKK!   “EEEWWWW” I moaned, “please Mary!!” The pain was incredible. Tears were already welling up in my eyes. The next swat connected with my left cheek, the next met my right, the next low across both.  I was approaching hysteria, yelling louder with each subsequent swat. The pain was building, each swat hurting more than the previous. Mary was silent, completely focused on her task at hand. She was determined to make each stroke count, and that she did. The next six swats came in rapid succession. Sometime during the last few, I began sobbing uncontrollably. After the final swat, I dropped to my knees and covered my face with my hands. That damn camera was still rolling.

I could hear Mary and Jane behind me mumbling to each other. A second later I heard a loud CRACK, and then my own voice screaming out like a schoolgirl’s. They were playing back the video of my paddling! I got myself dressed; feeling humiliated having to gingerly pull my underwear back up over my swollen sore behind. Both Mary and Jane watched attentively.” Well, are we square now Mary?” I asked. “Yes, Michael, you took your punishment, and we will keep our end of the bargain.” Jane handed me my camera. “I assume you’ll think twice before intruding on other people’s privacy with that thing again?” Mary asked. “I believe so,” I said, shaking my head slightly with embarrassment. Mary walked over and opened the door. “Please see yourself out, would you?” 

I descended the steps to the first floor, feeling every movement acutely in my sore bottom and thighs. When I reached the foyer, I could hear Mary’s raised voice coming from the room upstairs. I couldn’t make out what she was saying, but it sounded like she was scolding Jane again. I paused out of curiosity. A moment later I heard a loud “SSLLAAAPP” followed by Jane’s unbridled squealing. Then again…And again.  Jane was getting the strapping she had been warned about earlier. Wow, that Mary is something else. The thought of Jane’s naked bottom stretched across that bed excited me, and I was about to stay right there and keep listening in on her punishment. Are you crazy?? I quickly opened the door and left the house without looking back…