Remember, what happens in Supermac’s stays in Supermac’s!
Have a good time, everyone, and enjoy the craic (and the buttcraic, in this case!)
Is breá liom sibh go léir!
Remember, what happens in Supermac’s stays in Supermac’s!
Have a good time, everyone, and enjoy the craic (and the buttcraic, in this case!)
Is breá liom sibh go léir!
Crime never pays!
Melany had had enough. It just had to stop, and it would stop tonight. She had spent an hour or so getting ready, putting her makeup on, straightening her long, dark hair, changing her outfit three times before settling on the first one that she had tried. The usual. She hadn’t been out in ages and she was intending on having fun. What she was not intending on was her mum coming along for the ride. Again.
It had started in the summer. Her parents had gotten divorced (for the best, really), and her mum had needed a chance of place (her words). Therefore, she had decided to join her daughter Melany in California, where the young brunette was attending college. At first, Melany had been quite happy to have her mum around, as Michigan was too far for regular visits. Her mum worked from home, and she offered to move in together, even do her laundry like when she was still living at home in the Great Lake State. It was cute, and the two had always gotten along. So Melany had said yes.
Then her mum had started feeling lonely. To Melany’s horror, she had downloader Tinder, and even gone on a few dates. Thankfully, none that had gone so well that she’d brought a man to their cosy flat. But the thought made Melany shiver. Still, she was supportive. Her mum deserved to be happy, that wasn’t the issue. No, the issues had started when Sheila —her mum— had suggested they go out together.
“You want to go have diner some place?” Melany had asked.
“No, go out out,” her mum had answered.
And so they’d done just that. Once, twice, five times. Now every time Melany got herself ready, her mum ran to the bathroom and started doing the same. Not only that, her mum partied hard. After a few weeks, she was already getting a reputation, and not a particularly good one. The shots of tequila and the borderline grinding on boys at the club had forced Melany to drag her mum home the last time they’d been out.
So tonight, it would stop.
Melany admired herself one last time in the mirror —long legs clad in a short skirt, hair and eyebrows on fleek, revealing but-not-too-revealing top, she was ready for a fun night. She stepped out of her bedroom. Her mother was in the corridor, putting her heels on. She was wearing a short dress that was way too tight for Melany’s comfort. To be fair to her mother, Sheila had kept herself in shape, and was a beautiful woman still. The milf jokes in college had been relentless.
“Mom…” Melany started.
“Oh please, sweetie! I know you said last time that I embarrassed you, but I promise I will be on my best behavior tonight!”
“Mom… I love you, but maybe I could have one night out on my own, for a change?”
“Oh but sweetie, I got myself all pretty and…”
“I’m not dragging you out of the club again!” she said,
“No no, I promise! Best behavior, nothing embarrassing,” her mum replied.
“You remember what would happen when I misbehaved as a kid?” she asked, innocently.
“When bratty Melany came out?” her mother said with a smile.
“Well, I…” her mum stuttered
“You spanked me, right?”
“Well, hum, yes…”
“So, if you don’t behave tonight…”
“Oh, you can’t possibly mean…” Sheila said, blushing.
Melany crossed her arms.
“Either you agree to it or I’m going alone.”
It was Sheila’s turn to pout, blushing hard.
“I’m not going to embarrass you…” she started.
“Mom! Promise me,” the young girl insisted.
“And if you do embarrass me?” asked Melany again.
“Then… you can s-spank me…” her mum stammered, a nervous finger on her lips.
Melany nodded, “I’ll hold you to it!” she said, then went to the door, and they both left for the club.
Not two hours later, the door opened again, and a furious Melany was dragging her mother in by the wrist.
“But sweeeetie!” the older woman was saying, “It was just a couple shots and…”
“You were GRABBING his BUTT in middle of the dancefloor, MOM!” Melany yelled.
“Well, it was quite firm, really…”
“Mom, you’re drunk!”
“Oh, maybe, but it’s so fun!”
“That guy is in my class, mom!”
“Well, you didn’t tell me they had nice asses in your class, you know!”
“Whaaat?” Sheila asked, smiling.
“You remember what we said, right?”
“About you embarrassing me again!”
“Oh that… You didn’t really mean it, sweetie, did you?”
“Oh, didn’t I?” Melany said with a glare.
“You wouldn’t spank your own mother…” Sheila said, shaking her head with a grin. “Now if that boy was to put me over his knees…”
“MOM!” Melany yelled again, and still holding her mum’s wrist, she pulled a chair. Sitting down, she forced the older woman over her lap. Drunk as she was, it took Sheila until the first slap landed on her firm behind to realise what was going on.
“Oww!” she cried out, “Melany? What are you doing?”
“What I should have done a while ago,” her daughter said, landing five slaps in quick succession on her mother’s rear. The woman wriggled her bottom, trying to escape or avoid the heavy slaps somehow, but Melany was holding her firmly in place, and slap after hard slap landed with only the thin fabric of the dress and panties to shield her bottom.
After twenty more, Sheila was feeling the warmth growing in her behind. “All right, okay!” she cried out, “You’ve made your point! I’ll be good.”
“Really, mom?” Melany frowned. “I think I remember my spankings being a lot more bare.”
“Oh no ifs or buts, mom,” said her daughter with a vicious grin. How she had dreamed of this as a teenager when her mum pulled her over her lap. This was payback, she thought, for spanking her in front of her friends that one time. The dress came up, and her hand fell down hard again, and again, and again. By then, her mother was clearly sobering up, and feeling the pain and humiliation much more clearly. The amused comments became little cried, became pleas, became tears.
“All right! I’m sorry! Melany, please…”
The pink cheeks were turning red, much to Melany’s delight, but she wasn’t done yet. The panties were still covering most of her mother’s round, toned bottom, and there was no way they would stay up. “If you’re really sorry, you’ll agree that your panties must come down as well, right?” she asked.
Her mother gasped. “No, please…” she said, “this is so humiliating already…”
“Oh is it?” Melany said with a frown, “And you think my mom groping boys in the club in front of me isn’t?”
“Men your own age from now on, Mom!”
“And don’t even think about bringing one in here!”
“Y-yes, sweetie” her mother sobbed.
“Am I taking your panties down?”
“Do you deserve a good, bare bottom spanking?”
Sheila didn’t answer but didn’t protest further when her daughter grabbed her panties’ waist band and lowered them to mid-thigh. From then on, there was nothing but raw pain and the sound of hard slaps filling the room, punctuated by Sheila’s sobs and sniffles. She knew her daughter and how she always achieved what she set her mind to. This spanking was going to end when Melany decided it would, and not a second before. Sheila’s bottom and thighs were burning, probably bright red by now, and she wondered if she would be able to sit at all come the morning. At the very least, she would be sleeping on her side tonight, she knew.
Still, she thought, that boy in the club had had one hell of a cute ass.
I’m not saying that she was asking for it, but as I closed the door to our tiny apartment, she was lying over the back of the sofa, her tight skirt-clad bottom gently swaying up in the air, enticing me, beckoning me over. Next to her, precariously balanced on the back of the sofa was a hairbrush, a silicon spatula and a belt, waiting for me. From the tightness of her skirt, I could see that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. She didn’t say a word and shook her bottom a little more, as if a taunt.
Not one to go against her wishes, I uncuffed my shirt and rolled up its sleeves. I appreciate comfort, you see, and I didn’t want to give her a subpar performance. After all, she had gone through all that trouble to… lie around waiting for me, I guess. There probably were a hundred reasons for her to deserve a spanking, and, truthfully, I didn’t really need to know which one had brought that about right then and there.
Instead, I put the tip of my fingers in the small of her back, and felt her shiver. A small moan escaped from her lips, and I noticed that she was wearing a blindfold. One hand still on her back, the other slid across the skirt and cupped her round cheeks. She shook her bottom a little more, pushing it into my hand. I went down to her thighs and caressed them, seemingly at random, losing my hand between them. Her breathing was getting harder already, and she spread her legs a little.
Bending down, I laid a soft kiss on her right cheek, then immediately followed with a hard slap that pushed her hard against the back of our sofa. She cried out, but said nothing more. I spanked her left cheek just as hard, and she pressed herself against the sofa again. She raised her bottom up, tiptoeing in her heels, wordlessly begging for more. Being a gentleman, I obliged.
Slap after slap, she cried and moaned and heaved. At some point, her skirt had come up, revealing that I had indeed been right and that no underwear was to be found underneath it. Her pearly white cheeks had gone to pink, to red, to bright, deep crimson. I could see that her blindfold was getting wet, and that she was biting her lips not to cry harder. Between her thighs, the pearling wetness was an invitation and I couldn’t help but slide my fingers over it, caressing, probing, and teasing her. She pressed her legs shut and pushed her bottom out. Clearly, it wasn’t time for that yet. I grabbed the hairbrush.
Later, finally satisfied, she ripped the blindfold off, panting. On trembling legs, she got up. Without looking at me, she started walking towards our bedroom. Then, looking back over her shoulders and with her tongue licking her lips, she asked:
“Well? Is that all you’ve got?”
We were having a conversation about M/F spankings in other parts, so here we go!
Though I personally prefer F/F scenarios, I do try to keep some variety around here ^^
Had fun colouring that bottom, too 😁
Anyway, tell me what you’d like to see in the future!
Apparently, the day after V day is Slap Day to some people… Seemed fitting!
It’s also singles awareness day, so if you are single and would like a hug, come over here and get a big one!
As always, I love you all!
If I take you over my knee And punish you mercilessly Will you be mine? Will you be mine? If I spank you with hand and brush And make both pairs of your cheeks blush Will you be mine? Will you be mine? If I cane your trembling bottom The colour of leaves in autumn Will you be mine? Will you be mine? If I promise I’ll make you cry While telling you exactly why Will you be mine? Will you be mine? If I promise to hold you tight And hold you close throughout the night Will you be mine, will you opine? Love, will you be my Valentine?
I think she is!
Well? Are you ready? ❤️
“Quiet down, please!” the teacher said to the class. The boys stopped chatting as they saw the pile of papers that she was holding.
“Are these our tests, Miss?” a boy named Ryan asked.
“They are. Now, please take a purple pen and go through the annotations as I hand them.”
There was a rustle as the boys dutifully looked into their pencil-cases for the necessary pen. As post-16 students in one of the top grammar schools in the country, all of them were used to weekly tests, and needed little reminder of what to do. Discipline and behaviour had never been an issue.
“Got it!” Ryan said, holding his pen up. “First?” he looked around. “Boys, always competitive…” Miss Moore thought.
With a tut, she put the paper down on the boy’s desk. He gasped.
“What is this?” he asked.
“That’s your test, Ryan,” she said.
“I can see that, but it seems you’ve given me a… C minus?”
“Indeed, Ryan, that’s quite disappointing… Did you revise before this one?”
“Of course I revised,” he said with a frown. “Not that I needed to, this was ridiculously easy. There must be a mistake.”
There was a snicker behind him. “Is that a C, Ryan?” another boy asked.
“No way!” Ryan said, “Miss has made a mistake.”
She huffed. “There is no mistake! I do not make mistakes. Maybe you need to reconsider the amount of effort you should put into your work, young man.”
Ryan frowned and turned the page, quickly scanning through the answers. Miss Moore gave the next boy his test.
“Miss!” Ryan called.
“Not now, Ryan,” she replied tersely, and kept handing out the tests.
“Hey, Ryan!” the boy behind him called, “Look, an A!”
“A plus!” another called out.
“Quiet, boys…” the teacher warned.
“But Miss!” Ryan called again.
“That’s enough, young man!” she snapped. “I can see that you are disappointed with your grade, but it is merely a result of your own complacency. No one else in the class is complaining. In fact, no one else did quite as bad! Maybe next time you will check your work before handing it in, and make sure that you didn’t make silly mistakes that end up costing you dearly, yes? Now I don’t want to hear one more word about it, understood, Ryan?”
“Ryan?” she asked again.
“Yes, Miss… But…”
“Not another word! I’d rather not have to discipline you. Though if I’m honest with you, a result like that should be reason enough for a good spanking!”
There was a OoooooOooooh from the other boys. It had been a long time since any corporal punishment had been needed, and Miss Moore was well fit. More than one boy had dreamed of being pulled over her lap… or the opposite.
She looked at the rest of the class and lifted a finger in warning. “That’s quite enough, boys. You only have twenty minutes to do your corrections, then the lesson’s over. And as for you, Ryan, I would use my time wisely if I were you and try to understand what went wrong so it doesn’t happen again.”
For the next ten minutes, only the rustling of papers and pens could be heard. As the minutes ticked by, Ryan’s frown only deepened, until he couldn’t hold it in anymore and rose his hand.
“Miss?” he asked.
Sat at her desk, she slapped it with the tip of her fingers and rolled her eyes. “I thought I made myself clear, young man?”
“Yes, but can I show you something, Miss, please?”
“Yes, yes, if there’s something you don’t understand, I can help you, of course.”
“Poor little Ryan can’t even correct the mistakes himself…” said a voice behind him.
More snickers behind his back, and Ryan felt his cheeks blush in shame and anger.
“Shut up!” he said, turning around.
“Ryan!” Miss Moore said.
“I’ve had quite enough of your attitude, young man!” she hissed. “I think you and I are going to have a talk at lunch.”
More ooohs and aaahs.
“But you got it wrong!” he said, “Look!”
He held his test up.
“You’ve marked each question as if it were the next,” he continued. “See? The first one here? It’s correct, right? And this one, look? It goes A, C, D, but you circled A, C, D on the next one. And then the next, and then the next!”
Miss Moore snatched the paper off his hand and started leafing through it, blushing. “I-I…” she stammered.
“Well?” Ryan asked.
“I think…” she started.
“Did he get it right?” one of the boys asked.
“Legend!” another yelled from the back.
“It’s all correct, isn’t it, Miss?” Ryan asked with a smile.
“Y-yes… It appears so…”
“So what you’re saying is…” Ryan continued, grabbing his chair and dragging it in front of the desks. “What you’re saying is that you made a silly mistake?”
“I… Hum, well…” she stuttered again.
“Are you telling me you didn’t check your work before handing it in?” he grinned, “I think you’re the one who needs a lesson, Miss…”
The other boys in the room were gleefully looking at her, arms crossed, a smile on their face. One of them, Ian, went to the door and casually leaned against it. A few already had their phones out.
“I don’t know what you’re saying, Ryan, but…”
“What I’m saying, Miss, is that we expect a high standard of work from you, just as you do from us. That’s only fair, right?”
“Yes. I-I suppose?”
“And you said it yourself, such silly mistakes are reason enough for a good spanking.”
“I… Did I say that? I… Hum…”
“You said it, Miss…” said another student with a wry smile.
“Yup, you did,” chirped another.
“What’s my grade?” Ryan asked.
“A… A plus…” Miss Moore said, hesitantly.
“What was it out of? The marks?”
“One… One hundred and ten…”
Ryan looked around with a grin. “What do you think, guys? One hundred and ten, sounds fair?”
All of them nodded, some of them mouthing “Yeah!”
“I… I don’t think that’s appropriate…” Miss Moore tried, but Ryan was already pulling her over his lap.
Quickly, he landed a series of slaps over her dress. It was clingy enough that he could see the patter of her lacy panties underneath. As she wriggled and protested, he held her firmly in place and only spanked her harder, encouraged by his classmates, several of which were pointing their phones at them.
“Maybe next time you won’t be so quick to dismiss questions, Miss?” he said with a grin, and kept landing hard, open-palmed smacks on her curvy ass.
“Oww!” she yelped in pain, “Please! You’ve made your point!”
“Lift her dress!” one of the boys called. Many others approved. Not one to disappoint his audience, Ryan quickly pulled it up, revealing a white pair of lace knickers under which creamy-white buttocks were turning pink. After a second of admiring the view, he went back to work, much to the delight of the other boys. As more slaps poured down, Miss Moore was blushing from both ends, and tears had begun rolling down her cheeks. She was begging and crying out with every other slap, knowing that a classful of boys were staring at her rear, and that a frilly pair of lacy lingerie was all that protected her dignity —the little of it she had left, anyway.
“Have you been counting, Miss?” Ryan asked as his hand hit her wobbling bottom once more.
“The one hundered and ten slaps?”
Ryan tutted and shook his head, “Were you not paying attention, Miss? I thought the task was quite clear… Such a silly mistake… Should we start again at one, then?”
“N-no! Please! Ryan!”
He nodded to another boy. “Joe. How many?”
“Sixty four,” the other boy said.
“See? We do pay attention, don’t we miss?”
“Y-yes, I-I’m sorry!”
“You said it yourself, you should make sure that you don’t make silly mistakes that end up costing you dearly…”
“Yes… I’m sorry… I…”
“Only forty three to go!” Joe said with a grin.
“No, please!” she moaned.
“Oh yes…” Ryan said with a grin, “But first…”
Pinning her arm behind her back. he grabbed her panties and slowly, almost delicately pulled them down to her thighs, revealing bright red, clenched cheeks. She kicked her legs in protest, but there was nothing the could do. There was palpable excitement in the room, and none of the boys said anything, as if stunned by the view. Big, ugly tears were running down Miss Moore’s cheeks and she screw her eyes shut.
A sudden massive slap made her open them wide again, and she cried out in pain and surprise.
“How many more?” Ryan asked.
“Forty two!” she moaned.
“Well done!” he said and slapped her ass again. And again, and again.
“T-ten!” she sniffled a few minutes later.
“Six! Six! Oww!”
He held his hand high. “Anything you want to tell us, Miss?”
“Will you make any more silly mistakes?”
“No! No! I will check my work! I won’t make silly mistakes again! Please”
Just as the final slap landed, the bell went off.
Ryan let his teacher go and got up.
“There you go lads, class dismissed!” he said. Behind him, one hand on her desk, Miss Moore was rubbing her red, painful, punished bottom.
f/f spanking stories/ 18 and above
Happy to Submit
Your guide to the marital discipline of wives and other advice in heading your home.
My BDSM adventures and accounts as a kinky sadomasochist
Keep Looking Back Over your Shoulder
Mature audience only, 18+ NSFW...kinky sex & spankings ahead!
Alternative Lifestyle Writing
Married submissive: The love, the kink and the connection.
[No cats were harmed in the making of this blog. They all love to be spanked.] Exploring the psychology 'behind' spanking through fiction and poetry. Because, nothing says 'I love you' better than a red, sore, bare bottom. Comments welcome and discussion encouraged. I believe spanking between consenting adults leads to closer and more intimate relationships. Spanking is not a kink, not a fetish, not a lifestyle, but rather, a healthy and honest means of communication. Let your mind free and respect will follow. Contact me firstname.lastname@example.org
NSFW; F/F Spanking Stories