Advent 5 – Christmas Party

It was the day of the Christmas party at the office, and Helen had come dressed for it in a short, red dress and Santa hat. She liked to turn heads, and the dress clung to her curves, plentiful as they were. She had decided that the dress was too tight for a bra or panties, and she was only wearing a pair of tights underneath it, much to her delight. Office life could be dull, and she liked to spice it up.

She was having a flirty conversation with John from accounting (or was it sales?) when she heard her name being called. She turned around to see her line manager, furiously coming towards her, holding his phone to his ear and a wad of papers in his other hand. She excused herself and mouthed ‘What?’ to Ben, her boss. He lifted a finger, telling her to wait, and pressed mute on his phone.

‘In my office. Now.‘ he said, ominously.

She blushed at the tone, and followed him in. There was another man there, waiting for them. He turned around, revealing himself to be the CEO of the company. Her dress suddenly felt very short, and she tugged on it. The door closed with a clack that sent a shiver up her spine.

‘Mr. Jacobs!’ she said, ‘it’s a—

‘Take a seat, Helen,’ Ben interrupted. He pointed to one of the chairs in front of his desk. Mr Jacobs remained standing, eyeing her up and down. She blushed and did as she was bidden. Suddenly, the hat felt very silly. This didn’t look like a merry occasion. She didn’t dare move to remove it, and she felt her cheeks blushing to match the stupid hat’s colour.

‘Do you know why you’re here, Miss Clemens?’ Mr Jacobs asked. His voice was soft, gentle even, but she could tell by the steely gaze of his blue-grey eyes that he was anything but.

‘I…’ she hesitated, trying to think of what could have landed her in such a meeting. Ben, her manager, turned from the window where he was finishing his phone conversation, and put his phone on the large, glass desk that throned in the middle of the room. The view outside was gorgeous, and she noticed none of it, flinching instead as the phone thudded on the glass.

‘I… I have no idea, Mr Jacobs, S-Sir,’ she stammered.

He rolled his eyes and tutted in annoyance. He waved a hand for Ben to take over and went to the window to admire the view, his hands joined behind his back.

‘Helen,’ Ben said, ‘You’ve been here what, five years now?’

‘Six…’ she said, sheepishly.

‘Six years. That’s a long time, isn’t it? That shows commitment, that shows loyalty.’

‘Y-yes Sir…’

‘And in turn, you have been treated well here, wouldn’t you say?’

‘Of course, Sir!’

‘We are a forward-thinking, modern company, with values we’re proud of, wouldn’t you agree?’

‘Yes, Sir, I agree…’ she said, completely lost as to where he was going with that.

‘And one of these values,’ Mr Jacobs said, still looking out, ‘is a zero-tolerance policy towards sexual harassment in our offices.’

‘Sex-sexual harassment? Sir?’ Helen blushed, and tugged on her dress, biting her lip.

‘Four colleagues, Helen! It’s all in there!’ Ben said, loudly, shaking the papers. ‘How long did you think you would get away with it?’

‘But… Sir..’

Spanking the members of your team, Helen? Is that what you consider acceptable behaviour in this company?’

She said nothing, staring at the floor.

‘And taking pictures as well! You thought they wouldn’t dare report you! Well! HR has a pretty clear-cut case!’

‘B… b-ut…’ she stuttered, ‘they all agreed to it in… in writing when they joined my t-team and…’

‘You can’t make them sign a piece of paper and get away with something like this!’ Mr Jacobs said, his tone icy.

Chewing her lip, Helen’s gaze stayed down.

However,’ Ben said, ‘Given your track record, and given that you seemed to treat them well in every other respect, they have accepted to drop their complaint under one condition.’

‘One con-condition, S-sir?’ she said, looking up.

‘Unsurprisingly,’ Ben continued, ‘They want what happened to them to happen to you. They are willing to drop the claim if you submit yourself to a spanking of your own.’

Her eyes opened wide. ‘But… Sir…’ she said, her voice trembling.

‘Mr Jacobs and I will administer it. Your other option is to be fired for gross misconduct, with no severance pay and possible civil lawsuit. Your choice, Helen.’

‘I would say I’m sorry, Miss Clemens’ said Mr Jacobs, ‘but you clearly brought that on yourself.’

Helen thought of her skimpy dress, and the panties that she was not wearing. Surely there was another way. She looked at them in turn. She felt her world crumbling.

‘And… And if I accept?’

‘Then you will keep you position. With a different team, of course, and a year on probation.’

‘That… That’s it?’

‘We reward loyalty, and results, Miss Clemens,’ Mr Jacobs said with a dry smile.

He shoulders dropped and she nodded.

‘Do you accept the terms?’

‘Yes…’ she said, tears in her eyes.

Having signed a waiver without even reading it, she bent over the desk as Mr Jacobs instructed. She could feel her dress riding up and had no doubt the two men would soon be able to appreciate how little she was wearing underneath her already skimpy dress.

The first slap got her by surprise, and she let a little cry out. More soon followed, and she grabbed the other end of the desk, screwing her eyes shut not to yelp with each heavy slap. Soon, her bottom was warm, burning, and she was having a hard time trying not to kick her legs. Both men stayed silent, letting the noise of the barely muffled slaps fill the office. She knew people outside could hear them. She just knew, and her shame was instantly multiplied.

After what felt like an eternity, the slaps stopped. Her bottom was on fire, and tears had long ruined her make-up, pooling on the glass desk. She heard Ben say, ‘I think you should have a go, Sir…’ The relief she had felt at the pause vanished when she heard the sound of a belt buckle being undone. No no no no no… she thought. All of a sudden, she felt like a child again, like the bratty teenager she had been, coming home late to find the belt waiting for her. She shivered. Right when she thought things couldn’t be worse, she felt a hand grabbing the end of her dress and pulling it up to her waist.

There was a silent instant when time seemingly froze as the men realised quite what they were looking at. She felt a pang of desire and knew that she was wet as could be. Mortified, she buried her head in her hands, sobbing.

If she thought that would mollify the CEO, she thought wrong. The belt came whipping down a few seconds later, and she couldn’t help but yell loudly. A second smack of the belt fell down on her crimson bottom, and a third. By the fourth, she wasn’t trying to stifle her yelling anymore, and she was panting, trying to catch her breath between each agonising strike. She clenched and unclenched her buttocks, hoping to attenuate the pain, but the belt bit like a firebrand every time.

After twenty lashes, her tights were torn, and she felt like she had cried every tear in her body. Ten lashes later, she could barely stand on her trembling legs, and she was repeating ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry’ between sobs.

Finally, it stopped. She stayed down on the desk, her legs spread, her lips parted, dripping. She didn’t even care anymore. It was finally over. And it hurt, It hurt more than she thought it could. Her bottom hurt, her eyes, her thighs, the shame hurt. But at least it was over.

‘Now,’ Ben said, ‘as stipulated in the document you signed earlier…’ he unzipped her dress and passed it over her head, ‘You are going to stand in the corner of the open space for the duration of the office party.’

‘Merry Christmas!’ Mr Jacobs said.

Company Policy

To be honest, Lana had fantasised about that moment. She had dreamt of it; she had imagined how it would play out. So when the day came, she was beyond ready. It started with a very polite smile and one simple sentence:

‘Oh but ma’am, I am the manager.’

That stopped the harpy in her tirade. The coupons were strewn on the counter. The superior air was instantly deflated, and the older, short-haired, haughty woman started to stutter.

‘Wh-wh-what?’ she said, eyeing 22-year-old Lana up and down, ‘Don’t… Don’t lie to me, you stroppy brat!’

Still smiling, Lana slammed her ID badge on the counter, hard enough to make the woman flinch and look at her, worried. The woman hummed and hawed, looking at the ID with wide eyes. It clearly stated Manager in bold, red letters.

‘So,’ Lana begun, ‘like I said, we don’t accept expired coupons.’

The woman huffed. ‘Typical…’ she muttered, ‘You young people have everything handed to you…’

Lana pointed to a sign taped to the till that read ‘Staff abuse will not be tolerated’.

‘I suggest you stop, ma’am, or I will be forced to take action.’ she said, simply, pleasantly, never dropping the smile.

‘Or what?’ the older woman snapped, ‘You’ll force me to listen to another of the horrible songs that always play in here? Probably your boyfriend’s shitty band!’ She looked around at the few other clients in the store, hoping for support. All she got were raised eyebrows and shaking heads. Undeterred, she continued ranting.

‘I’m not surprised there are so few clients anyway, with such poor service, and your shitty attitude! Young people shouldn’t be in charge, they always mess it up! You should be ashamed!’

Lana walked around the counter. ‘I’m going to have to ask you to leave, ma’am…’

‘You can ask all you want, you little trollop! The customer is always right! Don’t you know the first thing about following store policies?’

Lana pointed to the sign again. She tapped the small prints.

‘Oh I do; in fact I was hoping you would bring it up. Look here: per company policy, any abuse will be met with corporal punishment.’

The woman blanched, and probably for the first time in her life, fell silent. It lasted a few delicious heartbeats, during which Lana’s smile only grew wider.

‘You… You can’t!…’ the woman tried.

‘Sorry ma’am,’ Lana said with relish, ‘it’s company policy!’

Without giving the woman time to argue, Lana grabbed her wrist and dragged her over to a chair that lay innocently in a corner by the counter. Having dreamt so much about it, she felt like she was just performing a role she had rehearsed many times before. Stunned, the woman only started to resist too late to change the outcome.

Lana liked to finish her day with a workout, and she was much stronger than the Karen in her grasp. Sitting down, she forced the tyrant over her lap and wasted no time in landing the first hard slap over her tight jeans. The woman screamed.

The few other customers in the shop didn’t move a single muscle to help her, and more slaps rained down, sharp and loud. The woman pleaded. She screamed more. She threatened. Nothing made Lana stop. Again and again, she slapped the woman’s ass. For an older woman, it was quite firm, shapely, bouncy. Truth be told, Lana was enjoying this immensely.

The threats slowly turned to sobs, pitiful and quiet, until Lana grabbed the jean’s waistband and started to pull down.

‘No!’ the woman pleaded with what was left of her defiance. ‘Not on the bare! People… people will see!’

‘You had no problem with people being there when you were yelling at me, did you?’

The woman said nothing.

‘You have no issue with witnesses when you humiliate store clerks, do you?

Still no answer, but the woman wriggled uncomfortably.

‘Now, I think you know that they’re coming down no matter what, so I’d advise you make it easier on yourself, ma’am….’ Lana said, menacingly.

With a defeated sigh, the woman reached for her jeans and managed to undo the button. With the woman’s jeans and white panties down to her thighs, Lana could finally admire the results of her handiwork. The round buttocks were already a dark pink, and the trembling woman had given up all hope of resisting what was to come.

The other client had long ago stopped browsing, and only pretended to look at the merchandise on offer, instead darting eyes over to the scene playing out. The smiles and nods were all the encouragement Lana needed to raise her hand once more.

With a loud SMACK!, she sent the bottom wobbling again, and the conceited woman cried out once more. More slaps came down, leaving marks and prints every time, turning the arrogant ass a bright crimson. Tears were running down the woman’s cheeks, and she was mumbling apologies in a tearful voice.

Lana continued spanking her for long, humiliating minutes, until the woman’s ass was red throughout and burning to the touch. The tears had not stopped rolling, and the sobs were a pleasant music to her ears. Then she spanked her some more, until at last she was satisfied.

None too gently, she got the woman up and dragged her to a corner of the shop. The woman kept her head down and didn’t protest. When Lana told her to put her hands on her head, she obeyed. Her jeans stayed down; so did her panties. In the following hours, the store got busier than it had ever been, as clients seemed to come in but not leave. In fact, most of them seemed to find every article in the store very interesting and made a point of checking each an every one of them in detail. As she prepared to close the store down, she tapped the woman’s shoulder and pointed to the door. With a sigh and a shameful nod, the woman pulled her jeans up and ran away.

Family business

The girl’s screams echo across the large, mostly empty room, a perfect counterpoint to the rhythmic, sharp noise of the slaps raining down on her ass. Again and again, her tormentor’s hand falls, delivering heavy slaps that make the girl’s tender bottom wobble and redden a little more with each blow.

Once more, she begs, begs for mercy, begs for it to stop, begs, wails and promises. It will never happen again, she cries; she has learnt her lesson, she swears; there is no need to continue, she pleads.

Time and time again, her pleas fall on deaf ears, or on ears that don’t care for her empty promises, at least. Without pausing her spanking, the stern disciplinarian says, “I’ve heard all of this before, Ella. And not just once…”

Only a wail answers. More slaps, more cries.

“I’ve warned you,” the spanker continues, “I’ve told you what would happen.”

Only sobs answer back. She carries on, matter-of-factly, “And yet you chose to take my car… Again…”

“But…” Ella manages between two sobs

“But nothing, young lady!” the other woman snaps, punctuating it with a nasty slap down between Ella’s legs. The young, curly girl howls in pain. Her skirt up, panties dangling off her leg, there is nothing to cover her bottom, or her dignity. Nothing to protect her from the wrathful slaps either.

Her mother continues, “You took the car; you took it and you got caught speeding… Again…”

The heavy palmfuls continue to rain down.

“I’m sorry muuuum!” Ella whimpers, “Please, mummy…”

The begging, as before, does nothing to attenuate the regular explosions of pain in her backside.

“You thought I wouldn’t find out, huh? Whose name is on the ticket, do you think? Who’s got to pay a fine?”

“Mum, please!” she wails.

“Wait until your father comes home…” her mother says, menacingly. Ella doesn’t think it could get any worse, but she knows better than to answer. Her father, whilst strict, usually softens up when she cries and sobs. Her mother… not so much.

As if to prove her right, a series of hard slaps come down on Ella’s thighs, making her kick her legs in agony.

“All of that for what, huh?” her mum asks.


“To impress your boyfriend? Is it?”

“Mum, pleaaaase! Pleeease stoooooop!”

“Is that what this is, Lucas? Are you impressed right now?” the mother says, turning her head to the right.

Sat on the sofa, straight in front of Ella’s spread legs and exposed intimacy, Lucas shakes his head, not daring to say a word. Eyes open wide, his blushing cheeks are almost as red as Ella’s bottom. His mind is racing, his cock as hard as it’s ever been, painful against his tight jeans.

To be honest, he doesn’t know what turns him on more, Ella’s crimson ass and shamefully dripping pussy, or her stern, dominatrix of a mother.

The Dance – part two

Read part one here

Cindy pressed her round bottom against her locker, pushed her chest up and bat her eyelashes at Brad as he came down the corridor. The spaghetti top and tight, short denim shorts she was wearing didn’t leave much to the imagination and accentuated her round hips and full breasts.

“Heyyy, Brad…” she purred, “I heard Susanna cancelled on your for the dance… That’s too bad…”

Brad came to a stop in front of her and put let his rucksack down on the floor. Taller than she was, lean and toned, his hair cropped on one side, he was everything that that made her bite her lips with desire. She often thought of him at night, alone in her bed, when her hands started to wander.

He stared. “Yeah… You wouldn’t have anything to do with that, would you Cind?” he said.

“Me?” she said in her most innocent voice, “Why would I do that?”

“I heard you were pretty pissed at her…”

“Oh yeah? Who told you that?!”

“It doesn’t matter who. Did you do it?”

“Do what?” She raise an eyebrow.

Brad put his hands on his hips and frowned.

“You know what!”

“No!” she pretended “I don’t.”

He blushed and continued in a hushed tone, looking up and down the corridor.

“You spanked her? What’s wrong with you?”

She laughed. “What? Who told you that?”

“it doesn’t matter who told me!”

“I never… spanked… her. What the fuck, Brad? Are you a pervert or something?


“That’s your fetish, huh? Girls spanking each other?”

“What? No! I…”

“Oh I’m sure it is… Naughty, naughty girls getting punished… Is that what you like, Brad?” she smiled wider while he blushed.

“You’ve got issues, Cind…” he muttered

“Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it? Are you going to take me to the dance or what?”

He took his bag from the floor and grabbed Cindy by the wrist, not too gently.

“Come on, not here,” he said, and pulled her towards and empty classroom.

“What are you doing?” she asked, half smiling, half panicking. Maybe she had taken it a little too far? Surely not. She knew how boys thought, manipulating them was one of her favourite things. A little teasing, a little waving her hips around, and she had them wrapped around her finger.

He closed the door behind them as they entered the empty classroom and let go of her wrist.

“Well?” she asked, hiding her misgivings behind another grin.

“I know you did spank Susanna, and don’t you even dare deny it!”

She shrugged, “Yeah, and? That slut shouldn’t have been strutting around, that’s all…”

“Don’t call her that!”

“What? A slut? I call a piggy a piggy, that’s all!”

“All right, that’s enough,” he said, grabbing her arm and dragging her to the nearest chair, “You think you can spank someone just because you don’t like them? Well I’ll show you how that feels.”

He sat down and swiftly bend her over his knees.

“Hey! No! Stop!” she yelped, but he didn’t listen. Without another word, he raised his hand and smacked her bottom, a loud, painful slap that immediately made her eyes water in surprise, pain, and delicious shame. Not wasting a second, another slap fell, and another, and another until the sound of them filled the room in a steady rhythm punctuated by whining, barely contained cries. She kicked her legs

“Brad!…” she pleaded, tears rolling down her cheeks. This wasn’t going as planned, not at all. “Brad, please!…”

Unmoved, he continued to rain spanks over her round, denim-clad bottom. Already he could see her sit spots turning a satisfying red. After a dozen more slaps, he grabbed the waistband of her shorts and dragged them down, panties and all, to her knees despite her outraged protest.

“No! No! Stop! You can’t!”

“Did you give Susanna a choice?”

“No but… Please! I’m sorry, all right! You can go with that bitch, I don’t —OWWW!”

“Don’t call her that,” he said, punctuating each syllable with a hard, painful slap on her now naked bottom. As he kept on spanking and smacking her round, bouncing bottom, her shorts and panties fell further down her legs until they were at her ankles, then on the floor. All the whiles, her tears were flowing openly, her cries getting more desperate.

“Braaad! Please! I beg you! I’m sorryyy! Please! Please! Someone will come! Someone will see…”

“Did you think of that when you were doing it to Susanna?”

The slaps were getting harder and harder. Cindy was sobbing, bawling, unable to articulate her begging anymore. Finally, satisfied, he relented. His hand resting on her burning, bruised cheeks, he said, “If I hear that you said anything to Susanna, if I hear you’ve been anywhere near her, I promise you you’ll end up in the same position for round two. Is that clear?”

She sniffed, “Y-yessir…”

All the while, shaking from the sobs, the pain, the humiliation, and the scolding, she was thinking. Only three people knew what she had really done the day before. Only three people knew that she’s spanked Susanna on the bare. Three people: herself, Susanna of course —but she wouldn’t have dare admit it to Brad— and Abi. That bitch Abi. She had told Brad, she was sure of it. That. Bitch.

She was going to pay.

Sneaking Out

Simple enough, Lilah figured, to just climb back up the side of the house by the pipe and get back in. It was the way she’d gotten out of the house once her father was asleep, and it was how  the teenage girl would got back inside and pretend she’d been asleep and in bed the whole night when the sun rose.

So, she made her way up. She was only 5’2 and her height didn’t help her in the slightest, but it wasn’t exactly difficult to climb up either. What she had to be most mindful of was noise. If she woke him up now, she’d be done for.

She got back inside through the bedroom window with seemingly no fuss, and after shutting the window quietly behind her, she let out a deep sigh of relief.

With a heavy sigh, Michael, her adoptive father, fully opened the bedroom door behind which he had been standing and turned the light on. He’d been waiting, anxious, angry, worried, furious.

Lilah, his adoptive daughter, was… complicated. Draining. His pride and joy. A real brat.

Sometimes, he didn’t know what to do with her. But it usually ended with her apologising through her tears, her bottom a dark crimson. Tonight might be one of those.

He glared.

“Well? Anything to say?” he said.

“Daddy!” She smiled, fakely, nervously, and began putting on her ‘I’m just a little kid, don’t be mad at me!’ voice, even though she was far from being one anymore.

“I was just going outside to see the stars! What are you doing in here?”

“I’ve been waiting, Lilah,” he growled, “I’ve been waiting for hours. I’m sure you’ve seen many stars on this overcast night…”

He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Do you want to try that again?” he continued.

“Well, y’know, um, I went for a walk to see if I could see them anywhere. Like, around the clouds you know?” Shit. He was totally on her trail, and that was bad.  “Buuut I really should be going to bed now, so-“

He raises an eyebrow

“For three hours, huh?” he shook his head, “Lilah, I think you know better than to lie to me, don’t you? It’s bad enough that you disobey, it’s bad enough that I was worried sick, don’t lie to me on top of it!” His voice was getting louder and louder as he went. She winced at that. It was always a sign that he was getting fed up, and perhaps it was better to just come clean… though she hated it when her adoptive father was cross with her.

“U-um… I went to Emi’s house because they were having hum… a ‘get together’.” She explained, her cheeks heating up in embarrassment. “Honest, That’s where I was…”

He sighed. “A get together, huh? Just hanging out, sipping orange juice? Yes?”

He closed the bedroom door behind him with and ominous ‘clank’.

“I-it was really just a couple of close friends!” she said, backing up when he closed the door. She wished he would just leave her alone to go bed, but the chance of that happening seemed smaller and smaller.

“I swear daddy, it was just like, six of us, and we only had like, soda and stuff! Really! You can smell my breath if you want, I wasn’t drinking!”

“Soda and stuff” he said, dismissively, “Oh, Lilah… Why… Why do you keep doing this? Do I not treat you well? Are you really so fed up with your old man that you simply don’t care? Is that it? Because frankly, I can’t see why you’re doing this…”

He shook his head again.

“You know what needs to happen now, don’t you?” he said again.

“No! Dad, I just- I just wanted to go and you said I couldn’t but… I should be able to! It’s not fair!”

Her friends always got to hang out no problems, and Lilah was always stuck getting told no, or negotiating with the stern older man.

However, she could predict his next move. “A-and I won’t do it again! I’m sorry, I know I should’ve told you…”

“I said you couldn’t. And you still did, didn’t you?” he asked, his tone ice-cold. He went and sat on the bed

“Now, I’ll ask you again, Lilah… What’s going to happen?”

He rolled up his sleeves, keeping his gaze on her.

The teen whimpered, and tears gathered in her eyes at the prospect of having to go over his knee or over anything to be smacked. Not again…

“Y-you’re going to spank me- please don’t spank me, dad, please-!” She whined, backing up to the wall. “I-I’m 17! I’m too old for that! I just wanted to go with my friends, you’re being unfair!”

“If you behaved, there would be no need for a spanking. And if you behaved, I would be more inclined to let you hang out, as you put it” he said, and gestured her over. “Come nicely, own up to it and it will be over soon, all right? The more you argue, the worse it’ll get, you know that…”

“Daaad…” she whined again, seeing that he wasn’t going easy on her. “I’m sorry, I know I made you worry, but I didn’t mean to!”

Still, she knew how his rules were, and she slowly came to stand in front of him. “I’ll behave from now on, I promise…”

He closed his eyes and sighed “Now where have I heard that before?”

He smiled, sadly “I believe you, my little butterfly…” he said, “But I’m not letting you get away with it. You need to learn.”

He pointed to her worn-out jeans and said:

“Take them off”

Her face was blushing bright red at the prospect of being this age and still being subjected to a spanking, but at this point, there really was no getting out of it, was there?

“Yes sir…” she murmured, a tear running down her cheek. When she’d been adopted, she’d never expected this, and every time It happened, she always swore it never would again, but it always did. She undid the button and pushed the trousers down to her knees, thoroughly mortified.

“What are…” he started, seeing the lacy, pale pink panties that she was wearing. He blushed. “You know what, I don’t want to know…”

She wasn’t even sure how to explain that one had to wear sexy panties when they went to hang out with friends and their boyfriend of course, because what if things had gone further? That night, Lilah was glad that they hadn’t.

He took her wrist and gently brought her down over his lap.

Sometimes, he forgot how grown up she was now. Even if she ended up on his lap with her bottom bared more often than her card to remember, she was nearly an adult now. Where had the time gone?

He cleared his throat.

“This could have been avoided, you know. All you had to do was stay in your bed, be on your phone, anything… But you had to disobey…”

He wanted to scold her, but his heart wasn’t in it.

“Let’s get this over with…” he said, finally.

With a loud SLAP!, he let the first blow fall on her barely covered bottom

“You never let me hang out with my friends!” She whined, a tear already falling from her eye. She always felt horribly guilty in this position. “You’re being unfair daddy!!”

The slaps keep coming, one cheek, the other, hard, fast. SLAP! SLAP!  SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!

“I am not! Other kids have earned the right to go out unsupervised! I can’t say you have…”

SLAP!  SLAP!  SLAP!  the hand keeps falling, quickly turning the pale white of her cheeks a pale pink, then to red.

“Again and again you disobey!”

“Daddy!!” Lilah yelped, whimpered, gasped and cried out in pain, and still the hand was relentless. It hurt badly, so badly that she couldn’t help but bury her face in her hands and sob.

She’d only disobeyed because she felt he was always so unreasonable with her! He couldn’t control her forever, she was practically an adult! Or so she thought, at least…

“I’ll be good! I’m sorrryyy!” she sobbed.

After a dozen more hard slaps, he paused. Her bottom felt burning to the touch and he knew that there was a very wet patch of duvet where she’s been burying her head to muffle her screams and sobs.

“I really want to believe that you are, my butterfly… I really, really do…”

Still, he grabbed the waistband of her lacy underwear…

“Daddy no! P-Please!” She rarely ever referred to him as such anymore, and for her to be doing it so frequently meant she was truly upset.

Her hand flew back next to his, also taking a firm hold on the waistband to keep it pulled up over her cheeks. “I promise, daddy, I swear! Please, please not on the bare. I’ll never leave the house again! Please!”

“I…” he hesitated “Maybe you are a little old for that…” he said, unsure. He could feel his cheeks blushing. Taking her hand off the undies, he wedged them up instead of pulling them down, revealing her burning red globes but leaving her intimacy covered.

Swiftly, the slaps began raining down again, harder now, intent on giving her a proper lesson.

“I do hope you will obey, Lilah.. I do…”

Lilah could swear that her skin was raw, and possibly even starting to bruise. She felt she had a good pain tolerance but this… this was all too painful and not to mention, humiliating. It was embarrassing to be put over his knee like she was still a little girl!

“I will!” She whimpered, tears dripping from her face onto the bedsheets her head was above. “I’ll be good! I’ll obey, I w-will! No more, please n-no more!” Her legs kicked somewhat involuntary, and her hands gripped tight onto his pant leg.

With a loud, harsh final SLAP!, he let her catch her breath and gently stroked her hair as she sobbed quietly.

“There, there… It’s over now… It’s over…”

He helped her up and sat her on the bed next to him.

“I love you, my sweet butterfly…” he said with a sad smile, and offered his arms to her, hoping she would forgive the pain and hold him like she used to when he’d first adopted her.

“H-hurts…” Lilah cried, her hands under her to rub gingerly at her sore, abused cheeks. Heat radiated off them, and she fell into his arms. If he was going to spank her like a child, then she’d accept the comfort that came with it.

“I’m sorry…” she whispered

He held her tight and stoked her hair.

“I know, butterfly, I know…”

He closed his eyes and sighed

“Daddy’s here, it’s all going to be all right…”

This story was written in collaboration with Lia 🙂

The Dance – part one

‘WHERE IS SHE?’ Cindy roared as she entered the communal area of her college dorm, ‘Where is that fat German slut?’

Her friend, Abi, came to her, puzzled. ‘Cind,’ she said, ‘what are you talking about?’

‘The German brat! yelled Cindy, ‘That girl that joined at the start of the year!’

‘You mean Susanna?’, asked Abi.

‘Yes! That kraut slut!’

‘Hum, I think she’s in the study ro—’

Cindy was already running towards the room. She all but kicked the door and stared at Susanna, who had nearly jumped out of her chair, her book falling down to the floor.

‘There you are!’ said Cindy, triumphally. She planted her hands on her hips.

‘J-ja? Here I am? W-why?’ said the plump German student, readjusting her glasses on her nose.

Cindy crossed her arms. ‘You fat slut, you know why!’

Susanna looked more puzzled than ever. ‘W-what? How am I a… a s-slut?’ she mumbled.

‘Well it’s obvious! With your big tits always showing and your nerdy glasses, I’ve seen how you strut around! I bet you’ve been giving all the boys BJs in the toilets as well. That’s it, isn’t it? Is that your big fantasy? Coming abroad and fucking as many men as you can?’

‘Was? Nein! No! I never did any of this!’ said the German, blushing hard.

‘Yes you did! There’s no way Brad would go to the Dance with you otherwise!’

‘I… I… He just asked me if I wanted to go with him, und-and… I said I would, that’s it!’

‘Well Brad is not going to go with you, you disgusting pervert!’ yelled Cindy, ‘He’s gonna go with me.’ She closed the study-room’s door and continued, ‘And I’m gonna show you how we deal we German sluts around here…’

Rounding on Susanna, she grabbed her hair and forced her up. The exchange student yelped and Cindy took her place down on the chair, then pulled harder on her victim’s hair and forced her to lie over her knees.

‘Nein! What are you doing?!’ cried Susanna, finding herself very vulnerable all of a sudden, her bottom up in the air over the crazy blond girl’s lap. She had seen her lot of hazing and mean pranks since arriving from her homeland but that seemed entirely different.

Cindy’s hand fell down on her rump with a loud noise that made Susanna jump. A split second later, she registered the pain and whimpered. ‘Nein! No!’ Cindy didn’t let up, and spank after hard spank fell down on the German’s bottom, making them bounce and burn even through the jeans she was wearing. All the while, Cindy was scolding her, yelling invectives and accusing her of a whole spectrum of inappropriate acts. Tears welled up in Susanna’s eyes, and rolled down her cheeks as she tried to explain that she had never, would never do such things. Her English, ordinarily virtually flawless, was unravelling, and she found herself using more and more German as she sobbed.

After what felt like an eternity, Cindy forced her up again and grabbed Susanna’s jeans and started to undo the button. Stunned, Susanna barely resisted, rubbing her bottom and sniffling hard. ‘Bitte… Please, C-Cindy… Please… I… You can go mit Brad, I don’t mind. Es… Es tut mir leid… I’m sorry…’

Cindy sneered, ‘Least you can do is speak English, you stupid cow!’

‘I’m sorry!’ cried Susanna, feeling Cindy pulling her trousers and panties down to her mid-thighs. She didn’t even know what as happening anymore. All she knew is that her ass was on fire, and that she wanted to be back home, were people weren’t crazy. Cindy pulled her hair again and she found herself on the blond girl’s lap once more, her bottom naked and throbbing with pain.

The slaps came as she knew they would, hard, fast, utterly humiliating. She couldn’t stop the tears, she could barely articulate little ‘Neins’ in between all the sobs and sniffles. Thankfully, Cindy had stopped yelling, instead focusing on inflicting as much pain as possible to her victim, it seemed.

After a few more interminable minutes, the door of the study room opened, and she heard a gasp. Looking up, she saw one of the other girls —Abi, she thought— a horrified look on her face.

‘Cindy, what the fuck?’ the other girl said, ‘Stop it!’

‘It’s all that brat deserves,’ Cindy said with a merciless grin, and she slapped Susanna’s ample bottom once more, making it wobble while the girl cried out.

‘Stop it! You’re gonna get in trouble!’ Abi pleaded.

‘She won’t say anything, will you, Slut-anna?’

‘N-no, ma’am…’ the German girl managed between sobs.

‘See?’ Cindy said, still grinning.

‘Come on…’ Abi said.

Rolling her eyes, Cindy pushed Susanna off her lap and left with her friend, leaving the German girl sobbing on the floor and rubbing her burning hot bottom. They were all crazy, she decided, all of them. Should she tell Brad? The tall, muscular boy had seemed really nice, but it might have been a prank as well. She was lost. Truly, there was no place like home.

Landlord visit

Claire whistled as she came down the stairs. The 22-year-old student was in a good mood, and was ready to go out with her friends, global pandemic be damned. She jumped over a pile of random boxes and glanced at the kitchen sink as she passed it in the corridor. It was full —had been for a week, really. But who cared? Sure, there was an ecosystem developing in there, but wasn’t like she was getting visitors, and doing the washing-up was boring anyway.

She slipped-on a pair of trainers and was about to open the door when somebody knocked. She jumped. As far as she knew, she wasn’t expecting any delivery. Startled, she adjusted the glasses on her nose and hesitantly unlocked and opened the door. In the corridor stood her landlord, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Ah, Claire, there you are!” he said, “I’ve been trying to reach you for weeks!”

“Hum, err, I…” she mumbled, blushing. Yes, there was that little issue of the rent not having been paid for the last two months; that had totally slipped her mind.

“Can I come in?” he said, his tone making it clear the question was purely rhetorical. She moved away from the door to let him in.

He looked around and raised a concerned eyebrow gazing at the absolute mess, the old pizza boxes, the dirty socks, the empty bottles, and more besides. Claire was looking down at the floor, twisting her hands together as her cheeks burned with shame.

“I…” she started, not finding anything more to say. The pink-haired student, normally so bubbly, couldn’t see a way to justify how she had let herself go so badly. Blame it on COVID, she thought, half-heartedly. She knew it wasn’t that. She was a procrastinating slob at the moment, and she could only blame herself for it.

Her landlord, Mr Dawson, seemed at a loss for words just as much as she was. He was slowly shaking his head in disbelief and making his way towards the kitchen. Panic settled in Claire’s gut and she blurted out, “Wh-what can I do for you, Sir?”

He turned around, his hands on his hips. “Well, I came to check you were all right, since you weren’t answering your phone, or emails, or texts…”

“Hum… Yes… I was, err, I’ve been very busy you see and…”

“I can see that…” he said, looking around in dismay. She nodded nervously and looked down, her blushing showing no sign of going away. He continued, “Mostly, we need to talk about your unpaid rent…”

She looked up, shyly, then down again. “I know, I’m sorry…” she mumbled.

“I know things are tough at the moment, Claire,” he started, then pointed at all the delivery food packages strewn around, “But I’m not sure you have your priorities straight…”

“No Sir…” she whispered.

“What was that?”

“No Sir,” she said again, louder.

“Do you think this how you should keep your flat?” he continued, gesturing at their surroundings.

“No Sir…”

“And about the rent?”

“I will pay it, Sir…” she said, her head still bowed.

“In full and on time?”

“Y-yes, Sir…”

“All right, I’ll give you until the end of the week…”

“Thank you, s—”

“I’m not finished!” Mr Dawson interrupted, “I will be back on Sunday to check that you’ve cleaned this mess, and for the rent. And before I go, I’m going to give you a taste of the consequences, should either not be done by then.”

“Con-consequences, Sir?” she said, looking up at him worriedly.

He cleaned an old Domino’s box off a chair. “You are going to come over my lap, and I’m going to spank your bare bottom, young lady.”

Young lady? She thought. He was not a decade older than she was. Wait, that wasn’t even the point, she corrected herself. A spanking? What was he talking about?

“I… I don’t think you can do that…” she said, looking away.

“No? Don’t you think you deserve one? Look at this place! It was just re-done when you came in. I remember your mother telling me how you were a very neat and ordered student…”


“Do you want her to know about this mess you’ve done?”

“No! Please…”

“And I can only guess at how your university work is going…”

She said nothing. Tears were welling in her eyes. She was a mess, she knew it. She missed home, she missed rules, she missed being held accountable. Yet… a spanking?! Like a misbehaving brat?…

He sat down on the chair, waiting for the cogs to stop turning in her head. Finally, she bowed her head and shuffled her way to him, walking around a mouldy curry tupperware and what looked like the rest of some Chinese. He pointed at her jeans. “Pull them down”

“Please, Sir…”

“Pull. Them. Down.” he said, unmoved by the tears of shame that already had started rolling down her cheeks. She bit her lip and undid her belt buckle, then pushed her tight jeans down, revealing a tiny pair of white panties. He was gracious enough not to comment further and indicated her over with a shove of his head. She approached, closed her eyes, and went to lay across his lap. She felt his firm hand holding her side and she shuffled slightly, trying to find some comfortable position despite the shame and humiliation. Her comfort, however, was the least of Mr Dawson’s concerns, and he made that very clear when the first of many heavy slaps landed on her perky, offered bottom.

“Owww!” she yelled out in pain and surprise. Sure, she’d been spanked before, but he was clearly not going easy on her. Each slap made her wince in pain and kick her legs. After a dozen slaps, she was already crying openly. “Please! Sir! Mr Dawson!” she cried, trying to wiggle her way off his lap. He held her in place, unwavering. Clearly, he had done that before. “That’s enough! Owww! I’ll clean up! Please!” Relentless, the slaps came, hard and fast, a staccato of pain on her rump.

“STOP!” she yelled and tried to protect her burning cheeks with her hand. He paused. For a moment, she thought he had listened, and that her nightmare was over. she lowered her shoulders and sniffled. “Let me go, Sir… I..” Then his hand grabbed the elastic band of her panties, and she panicked.

“No! Nonononono! Please!”

“I told you I was going to spank your bare bottom.” he said, matter-of-factly.

“No, please! I’ll clean! I’ll pay the rent on time! I’ll do anything you want!”

With one pull, her panties were down to her mid-thighs and her bottom bared for him to admire and punish as he willed. She clenched her buttocks, foolishly hoping to hide her intimacy and to make what she knew was coming hurt less. With the first slap, she knew it wouldn’t work.

The thin fabric of her panties hadn’t protected her much, she knew, and maybe it was all psychological, but the flesh-on-flesh slaps felt ten times worse. Maybe it was that her bottom was already burning, maybe it was the sheer humiliation of having her ass bared for a man —pretty much a stranger— to see. She wailed with every merciless slap, knowing that there was nothing she could do to stop them. Through her tears, she looked at the mess around her, and knew that it was what she needed. I will change she thought with every stroke of Mr Dawson’s large hand, I will change, I will change, I will change, I will change…

Finally, after an eternity of pain and tears, she found herself standing in the corner, her hands over her head, her burning cheeks on display. Her phone on the coffee table was counting down 45 minutes, and even though she knew that Mr Dawson had left, she dared not move away from the corner. The mantra kept repeating in her head, I will change, I will change, I will change, I will change…

She would make him proud on Sunday. Her burning bottom was a dire reminder of the consequences if she didn’t. But mostly, she knew that she would make herself proud.


“It’s not faaaaair!” she yells as the slaps rain down on her bottom. He doesn’t listen, his hand coming down hard and making her cry out in pain once more. Her bottom, red even before he pulled her panties down, is throbbing with pain. Added to the pain is the humiliation of knowing that her pussy is on display, wet with desire, all but begging for his cock. And he won’t give it to her.

“Please!” she pleads once more. He ignores her, the slaps steady and merciless.

“It’s extremely fair,” he says between two hard slaps.

“But…” She bites her lips, stiffling a moan as his hand spreads and caresses her burning cheeks.

“What was the rule?” he asks, punctuating the question with a sharp slap.


“What was the rule?” he asks again, spanking her harder.

“Oww! No… Oww!! No porn during working hours…”

“And what were you doing?”

“I… Please…”

“What *SMACK!* were *SMACK!* you *SMACK!* doing?”

“I was… watching… naughty things, but…


“Working from home is so boooooring! It’s not fair!”

“You know how you get…” he says, his hand lightly brushing her dripping pussy, sending shivers up your spine, “You get yourself crazy excited, and then you come and distract me… I have to work too…”

“Mmmmhm… Yes… Distracting, yes…” she says, moaning. She feels his hard cock against her belly and his fingers linger, caressing, probing her. She closes her eyes. He finally realises that ending over his lap was her plan all along. “You’re not even sorry, are you?” he says.

A rhetorical question.


It was when food started to mysteriously vanish from his cabin that Captain Flintsworth became suspicious. Knowing his crew, there was little chance they would be drawn to fruit when there was plenty of jerky and ale below deck. The HMS Exultant was a 3rd rate ship of the line, and boasted a crew of nearly six hundred sailors, none of which, he thought, would risk being caught in his cabin just for some taste of aging fruit. That, and the fact his prized bottles of fine whisky and rums had been left undisturbed left him unsettled. Yes, he thought to himself, the case of the vanishing fruit was most suspicious indeed.

In more busy days, he would probably have forgotten about it, or, more likely, wouldn’t have noticed in the first place. A ship this big was like a little village, and there was always something to do, orders to give, people to supervise, courses to plan. The 70 guns that adorned the Exultant weren’t for show, and he had pirates to hunt for the glory of Britannia.

Still, the seas were calm, and they were a long way yet from the pirates’ most frequented routes. Smooth sailing so far had meant that the Captain had had time on his hands. One evening, after noticing that, once more, somebody had been in his cabin in his absence, he decided to catch the thief in the act. Insubordination was better dealt with while they were in untroubled waters. Who knew what could happen later… The next morning, he put a new display of fresh fruit —well, as fresh as he could have them— in evidence, and, having given discreet orders not to be disturbed for the day, he lay in wait, hidden behind a carved panel that cleverly concealed a little nook in the side of the cabin.

The hours passed with monotonous boredom. He could hear his first mate yelling at the sailors, the rush of the waves against the ship, and the wind blowing in her sails. Still, the food lay undisturbed. Maybe, he thought, this was just his mind playing tricks on him. Maybe he had just been eating the fruit himself, distracted by one of his many tasks. Maybe he had caught some illness of the mind… No! he told himself. He was sound of body and mind, he knew he was. That nagging doubt, that gut feeling was enough for him. He had risen to captaincy by trusting his instincts, and they wouldn’t let him down this time either.

Noon came and went, and he wished he had taken food with him in his secreted alcove. Yet, he prided himself for his self-discipline, and didn’t relent. He would catch the thief, and he would see to his punishment personally.

Another hour went by, and another. Finally, as he was about to give up, eyeing the dark brown rum bottle on the side to drown his sorrow, there was movement. To his surprise, it didn’t come from the cabin’s door, but from the windowed gallery that lined the stern. Someone was getting in through the narrow windows. Someone small and remarkably nimble. Young, for sure, one of the ship boys.

The intruder looked around, suspiciously, and got to the table where the fruit awaited. Quickly, he pocketed an apple, grabbed another and took a huge bite out of it. The Captain, triumphant that his instincts had been right, but confused as to who that ship boy was, all but lept out of his hiding place and grabbed the boy’s wrist.

“Now I have you, little thief!”

The boy let out an anguished cry that seemed an octave too high and tried to escape. As he did so, the Captain’s suspicion got stronger, and he grabbed the thief’s oilskin jacket, pulling it off.

Underneath it was, clearly, not a ship boy. Wearing a leather corset and a puffed-sleeves shirt that used to be white over a pair of leather breeches, the thief was a young woman.

“Let me go!” she pleaded, terrified.

“Who in the heavens are you?” he asked, sternly.

“No one! Let me go!”

“No one, huh? I don’t think so. I think you’re a stowaway, young lass, and a thieving one at that.”

“I was hungry, I was!”

“Why are you on board? Answer me!”



“I want to sail the seas! I want to fight ’em pirates!”

“You… What?”

“For England! For the Queen!”

“Yes, yes, Glory to Britannia and all. It doesn’t explain how you got on my ship, and how you think you’re going to defeat pirates if you’re a thief, no better than them!”

“I… I was just hungry!”

“You will adress me as Captain, understood?”


“Yes Captain!”

“Yes Captain…” the girl said, hesitantly.

“Better. Sit.”

He forced her down on a chair.

“What is your name?” he asked.

“Is-Isabelle, Sir, Captain, Sir.”

“Captain will do.”

“Yes, Captain, Sir.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Right… What am I going to do with you, Isabelle?”

“I… I don’t know Sir, I mean, Captain.”

He rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“I can’t have a woman on board.”


“It’s bad luck.”

“You don’t—”

“But more importantly,” in interrupted, “there are 600 men on board, who haven’t seen a woman since we set sail. How did you stay hidden for weeks?”

“I know my way ’round ships, Captain… My da is a shipbuilder, he is.”

“I see… Well that doesn’t help me, does it…”



“Maybe I could… Be your servant? Keep your room—”


“…Your cabin in order and such things?”

“A maid?”

“I would serve you well, Captain, been a maid since I was 6, me.”

He eyed her up and down.

“Were did you find these breeches? And the oilskin?”

“Nicked them from my brothers…”

“And the corset?”

“… A wench at the tavern…”

He shook his head.

“The shirt was mine!” she said with a warm smile. “Ma would have tanned my hide if I’d lost it”

“She would have, would she?”

“Oh for sure, Captain. ‘Never too old for a spanking’, my Ma says.” She nodded, gravely.

“Well, I agree with that!” the Captain said with a dry smile. “Get up”

She obeyed and he took her place on the chair.

“I cannot in good conscience let you out of the cabin, it is far too dangerous out there for a young lass. Maybe keeping you as a servant could work…”

She nodded enthusiastically and opened her mouth to say something, but the Captain lifted a finger up.

“However!” he continued, “thievery is a crime, and crimes must be punished. Your Ma is a wise woman, she must have had the measure of you.”

“What… What do you mean, S-sir? Captain!”

“I mean I’ll be the one to tan your hide, Isabelle, and you better believe I won’t go easy on you!”

“Oh but… Ca-Captain…”

“Pull your breeches down,” he said, his voice commanding.

She blushed and looked at the windows, then at the door. Finally, she looked back at him, his arms crossed over his chest. Her shoulders sagged and she sighed.

“Y-yes, Captain…”

Her leather breeches pulled half-way down her thighs, she came to lay upon his lap, a thin piece of home-sewed undergarment barely covering her pearly white buttocks. He wasted no time asserting control and pulled them down to her thighs as well. She let out a pip of embarrassment but said nothing, fully aware that her fate was, quite literally, in his hands.

Immediately, his large, callous hands fell down on her rear, making her yelp and scream. She kicked her legs as more slaps rained down, accompanied by the Captain’s scolding. Theft, lies, deception, hiding herself aboard his ship, there were countless things to atone for. Her bottom jiggled and bounced under the slaps, and tears streamed down her blushing cheeks. Both the heavy slaps and her cries were covered by the waves, the sails and the creaking of the boat. Still, she expected the door to barge open at any point, letting in countless sailors to witness her humiliation and exposed intimacy.

The door stayed closed, mercifully, but the punishment only gained in intensity. Large, broad slaps were falling down on her burning ass, and she begged the Captain for mercy, for leniency, for respite. She promised him everything she could promess, she said again and again that she was sorry, that she would make it up to him. She wore it on her Ma, on her Dad and on the Throne of England. She cried, and moaned and begged again until, at last, he relented and let her catch her breath.

Getting her off his knees, he led her to the hitherto hidden alcove and had her stand in it, her hands over her head, her bruising, fire-red bottom on display for his enjoyment. Bad luck or not, he thought, she was there to stay. He found that he didn’t mind. He was sure Britannia would understand. Call it a gut-feeling.

A bet is a bet

The ping-pong ball landed in the cup.

“Whoohoo! I won!” Juliette announced triumphantly.

“Oh come on…” Nina answered, dejected.

“A bet’s a bet!” the winner said gleefully.

“I guess…” Nina said, looking away.

“What? Are you going to pussy out?” Juliette grinned.

“You won, can’t that be enough?” pouted Nina.

“Well you would say that…” Juliette said, crossing her arms over her ample chest.

Juliette looked around at the twenty-odd people having fun and drinking in the living room.

“Come on, please… You’re not really going to… spank me, are you?”

“Oh I definitely am! You lost the bet! No backsies,” said Juliette.

“Nobody likes a gloater…”

“Or someone who chickens out…” Another grin.

Nina blushed, looking down.

“Fine… Can we at least do it… Privately?” she asked, timid.

“Well, then I get an extra.” Juliette said after a pause.

“What sort of extra?”

“No panties!”


“You heard me.”


“Or we can do it here in front of everyone, I don’t mind!” Juliette said, her hand firmly planted on her wide hips.

Nina looked around again. She was wearing a short skirt, a little crop top… Why had she chosen to wear stockings underneath it tonight? Sure, there was a chance that she would get in bed with Tom, but still, it was turning out to be a bad decision. Then again, so was taking that stupid bet. Bad decisions were her specialty lately, it seemed. She looked up at Juliette, who was preparing to make a scene and alert everyone.

“Fine, fine! Let’s go to the bedroom…”

With a wide smile, Juliette took Nina’s hand and let her guide her upstairs. Juliette, if she was honest with herself, had had her eyes on sweet little Nina for a while. She was exactly the type of girl she liked, a little shy, but with a wilder side underneath the bookish veneer. Well, that and her cute round ass, of course. They got to the bedroom, and she closed the door behind them.

Giggling slightly, Juliette pulled the chair from under the desk and sat on it. Nina was looking at the floor, a finger to her lips.

“Well?” asked Juliette.

“Well what?”

“I can’t see any panties on that floor…”

Biting her lip, Nina slid her hands under her skirt, and slowly pulled her panties all the way down her long legs. She hooped it over her heels and held it in her hand, unsure of what to do with them. Juliette whistled.

“Nice! The boys downstairs would have liked that!”

Nina said nothing. She bit her lip.

“You coming?”

Nina nodded and came to rest over Juliette’s lap, throwing the panties on the bed. She was shaking slightly. Juliette didn’t wait a minute to pull her skirt up, revealing that ass that she’d been eyeing all semester. The garters framing it made it all the cuter. She purred.

“It won’t be that bad, you’ll see!”

“Easy for you to say!”

Juliette laughed, and her hand fell on Nina’s bottom with a sharp *SMACK!* The poor girl moaned a little cry, and the hand fell down again. She clenched her buttocks, vainly trying to soften the blows that kept coming and coming. Juliette peppered her round ass with slaps, randomly hitting right, left and centre. Nina kicked her legs, trying to escape, but the other girl was holding her firmly.

The slaps got harder, they got faster. It hurt. It burned. *Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!* Juliette’s hand was relentless.

“That’s enough! That’s enough!” she cried, tears starting to roll down her cheeks.

“Do you want me to invite people in to watch?” Juliette said, sternly.

Nina moaned a litte, pitiful “No…” and finally resigned herself to the pain. As her tears flowed freely, she stopped kicking, stopped resisting, and found that… she enjoyed it. The tension leaved her shoulders with every slap. She blocked the world outside. There was only that bedroom, Juliette’s lap, her bottom exposed and sore. She could feel a ball of warmth in her stomach, and suddenly realised that she was very wet, in full view of Juliette. She didn’t even care. She moaned again, not in pain but in pleasure. She noticed that Juliette was taking more and more pauses to caress and massage her burning ass. She reached back to guide the other girl’s hand down between her legs.

Maybe that bet hadn’t been such a bad decision after all. Maybe she had just won.