Out for a jog

Two more laps, she was thinking. Two more lap and she would be done. She closed her eyes and exhaled, concentrating on her rhythm, her breathing. She could feel her heart beating fast, she could feel every muscle in her legs begging her to stop. Two more laps. Just two more.

She opened her eyes and gasped as she ran into the back of another jogger, making them both fall to the ground on the dew-covered grass.

“What the hell ?” she yelled as she got up, getting the grass off her small shorts. “Watch where you’re going, dumbass…”

He got up as well, he was tall, a good head taller than she was. Square jaw, dark hair, freshly shaven, grey eyes… Grey eyes that were glaring at her.

You ran into me, lady”

She rolled her eyes and made a gesture with her hand.

“Whatever! Leave me alone, you creep.”

“Excuse-me ? Are you blind or something ? You hit me from behind !”

“Oh yeah, well I’m sure you’re used to that…” she said with a hauty smirk.

“Oh, so bratty and intolerant? Well you’re a treat, aren’t you ?”

She blushed instantly and looked down without even thinking, chewing her lips. She knew she had a temper, and sometimes the stupidest things would come out of her mouth before she even thought about them.

“Okay,” she blurted, “That was uncalled for…”

“Is that all?”

“What more do you want?” she said, aggressive once more. She didn’t like his tone. Patronizing and shit, who did he think he was, that Bruce-Wayne wannabe?

“An apology would be the least you could do?” he said in disbelief. What an arrogant brat, he thought.

She laughed. “Oh, the least I could do, huh? What, do you imagine I’ll blow you behind the bushes or something, you goddamn perv?”

He frowned and took a step towards her, pointing a finger

“That’s enough!” he said, menacingly.

She crossed her arms “Oh yeah? Or what? What are you gonna do, huh?”

“Obviously your parents never showed you what happens to disrespectful brats!”

She hesitated for a moment, and blushed under his glare. She felt a shiver running down her spine. Not only that but, looking at him, handsome, well built, and… very angry, she felt something else.

“W-what? You… You wouldn’t…” She felt very confused. How… dare he? How… Surely, he would not…

He didn’t answer and simply grabbed her arm and started walking her towards the bushes she had mentioned earlier. She barely protested. The thought that he would actually go through with it was ridiculous at best. She blushed as she realised she was imagining it. Her, draped across his lap, her bare bottom on display for him to punish like a little misbehaving brat… The sound of harsh slaps echoing through the woods… He would pause and caress her ass while she would sob and beg him to stop….

Her face was already as red as she’d ever been when he stopped and sat on a stump. He crossed his arms.

“Get your shorts off”

“What? Are you crazy?”

“You heard me. Get them off.”

“But… No!”

She was twisting her wrists. She got a finger to her mouth and nervously bit her nail.

“I… I don’t think that’s appropriate…” She was losing all her countenance. There was something about the steely gaze, that stern look.

“You don’t think you deserve it?”

“…”

She looked down and wordlessly pulled her shorts down to the ground, then stepped out of them. She crossed her hand before her white knickers. He indicated for her to come over his lap. She did, tears already forming in her eyes. What was she doing ? What in the name of… *SMACK!* The first slap caught her totally off-guard, and she cried out as much in surprise as in pain. The next one wasn’t far behind, and the next one, and the next. Before long, heavy tears were rolling down her cheeks, and, just as she had envisioned, she was begging him to stop.

sports

For a first time, he gave her the full experience. The panties came down, the slaps kept coming until he was certain that she had been properly chastised. Finally, he got her up and wiped the tears away with his thumb.

“I’ll be waiting for you here next Saturday,” he said, sternly. “If you haven’t behaved during the week, you’ll get another one. Clear ?”

She nodded. “Y-yes, Sir…” She didn’t know where the words had even come from, but she knew one thing: she would be there.

With a nod, he turned around and started running, leaving her to put her shorts back on, rubbing her bright red behind and wondering what she had gotten herself into. Her bottom was so warm she couldn’t believe it. As she stood there, rubbing it, she bit her lip and smiled. Well he was handsome, after all, maybe… Maybe she didn’t need to behave all that much…

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The belt for Becky

Her bottom already crimson from the warm-up spanking over her master’s knees, Becky walked to the glass desk and put her hands on it as instructed, her legs slightly parted at her knees. Standing on the tip of her toes, she pushed her bottom up, a perfect target for what she knew was coming. The glass was cold to the touch under her palms, and she wished she could sit on it and cool her sore bottom.

She shivered; she hated the belt. She hated its burning touch, she hated how it made her cry out uncontrollably, she hated how it meant she had pushed him too far. He would not hold back, how ever few times he would strike her. She screwed her eyes shut as she heard her master’s belt buckle coming undone. He caressed her offered bottom with the cruel piece of leather. She softly moaned.

WHACK!

One lick for her attitude that day.

WHACK!

One for talking back.

WHACK!

One for unfinished chores.

WHACK!

One for snacking.

WHACK!

One for disappointing him.

WHACK!

One to make sure she learnt her lesson.

34

Caned

She looked back at me, her crimson bottom almost glowing in the subdued lighting. Tears were still rolling silently down her cheeks, even now that the sobbing had stopped.  She had her hands against the wall, her tender, round, and bruised bottom on display. The cane strokes had left clear marks on it, straights line on the curves of her buttocks, whiter at their center where the rattan had struck. I could almost still hear the dry, cruel crack of it against her pale skin, a fraction of a second before her cries of pain.

She had not protested when she had been told to bend over the back of the sofa, her hands flat on the cushions, her pale orbs high up in the air. She had shivered and moaned as I had caressed her with the cane —a prelude to the pain to come— but she hadn’t said a word.

The cane had risen and fallen again and again, coming down hard, criss-crossing her behind in fiery lines of pain. She was in tears by the second stroke, bawling by the sixth, stomping her feet in between each hard stroke in the vain hope that it would make the burn go away. She had clenched her cheeks, shut her eyes, gritted her teeth, and withered the storm like the good girl she knew I wanted her to be.

Biggirl

A letter

It had started very simply, with a letter. It was a simple, white envelope among all the others that had come that day. She had paid it no mind and it had sat on the pile of letters waiting for him when he got home.

The afternoon had been pleasant; she had baked cupcakes, spent an hour reading her favourite book for the tenth time, browsed Pinterest for a while in search of inspiration for her living-room decoration. Dinner had been simmering on the stove when he’d come home, filling the house with a delicious smell. Five minutes before he came home, she was waiting by the door, her hands behind her back, head bowed subserviently, as she knew she had to be.

He had kissed her, deeply, complimented her on the spotless state of the house, on the mouth-watering smell that came from the kitchen, and had asked her how her day had been. He was in a good mood, tender and loving. She had a happy sigh as she went and fetched him a drink.

Then he got to the letters. He opened the first one and his smile instantly turned into a frown. She came back from the kitchen with a glass of martini in hand and was about to say something when she saw the expression on his face. She froze.

“Ashley?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, “Can you explain what I’m looking at?”

“I… I… I don’t know, sir, wha-what is it?” she stammered, red in the face.

“It’s a very formal letter from our credit card company, Ashley.”

“Oh…” she said, her eyes widening.

“Maybe you’d care to explain to me how we are maxed out on it? I don’t remember any purchases lately?”

She bit her lip. “Well…”

“Well?”

“Well I was… I was on the internet and…” She was still holding the glass, and the ice cubes tinked as she shivered with dread. “I’m sorry, sir,” she tried.

“You were on the internet and what, young lady?” he said, getting up, the letter still in his hand.

“I might have… bought a few things?” Tears were gathering in her eyes and she bit her lip harder than before.

“That’s more than a few things, Ashley!” he yelled, holding the letter up to her face.

She started crying, “They were nice and… I didn’t want to wait for my birthday and…”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled deeply. He took the glass from her hand and gently set it down on the nearby coffee table.

“Well, whatever it is that you bought —handbag, shoes, tablet, believe me, I’ll find out—, you’re sending it all back.”

“No, ple…” she started.

“And!” he interrupted her, grabbing her ear like a scolded schoolgirl, “I’ll give you a taste of what you’ll be receiving every night for the next two weeks.”

“Nooo! Owww… Please!…”

Ignoring her pleading and muffled cries, he dragged her to the sofa and across his knees, pulled her jeans down and started generously slapping her round bottom, quickly turning it from creamy white to bright pink, and then from pink to a deep, warm red. She begged and pleaded at first, bawled her eyes out, then gritted her teeth, held tight to the sofa as her punishment went on.

33b

The food in the kitchen started to smell like burning when he finally relented, after he got a long, sincere and heartfelt apology from her in between her sobs. He pulled her jeans all the way off and sent her to save their dinner with a final slap on her bruised bottom. She would have to plan it better for the coming two weeks ; her evenings were going to be a lot less pleasant.

Payback for Corinne

She closed the door to the chief’s office and sat in the offered seat. The desk was a mess of papers, pens, empty coffee cups and napkins. There was a plaque on display, it read : Capitaine Ballanger. He was looking at her, his fingers joined at the tip, his lips pursed in a moue of annoyance.

“Corinne, ” he said, “do you know why you’re here?”

The young policewoman shifted uncomfortably in her seat and scratched the back of her neck.

“I don’t know, monsieur, did something come up about the Durier case?”

“No, no, nothing yet, that’s not why I asked you here.”

“Oh,” she said simply and waited. The captain was a patient man, and he liked to take his time. He would get to the point eventually.

“There were… troubling reports about you, Corinne…”

“Troubling, monsieur?”

“Troubling indeed,” he said, and got up from his chair. He walked around the desk and went to the window overlooking the open space in which the policemen were all at their busy work. He closed the venetian blinds and turned back to her. She hadn’t moved.

“There were calls, quite a number of them,” he continued laconically.

“Calls? About what?”

“About a policewoman spanking a young woman on the roadside!” he boomed, “Apparently, you put on quite a show. Do you have anything to say about that, lieutenant?”

“I…” she hesitated, unsure what to do, “I don’t think hearsay is…”

“Heresay? Do you think twenty people coordinated to call us and invent such a tale?”

“Did that… ‘young woman’ call you? Was there a formal complaint, monsieur?”

He didn’t answer, raising one finger up. He went to his desk and pressed a button on his phone. “She’s here with me now, Vincent,” he said, and let go of the button without waiting for an answer. A few seconds later there was a tap at the door and one of her colleagues entered, a very familiar young German girl in tow.

“Now, Corinne, do you recognise her at all?” he said with a mock grin.

She bit her lip, blushing. The other woman didn’t seem much more at ease.

“What were you trying to accomplish, lieutenant? Start a diplomatic incident with Germany?”

“I think you’re over-reacting a little…” she muttered,

“I beg your pardon, junior lieutenant?” he said, frowning.

“But sir… she was speeding, she had no papers and…”

“Do you have any record of that? Did you file any report? Any paperwork?”

“No, I mean… Huh…”

“Did you see anywhere in the law that you could just… Spank people at will? Is that your vision of justice?”

She was silent, head bowed. The captain went on:

“Thankfully for you, mademoiselle Fischer here doesn’t want to fill any claim against you…

Corinne kept looking at the floor, nodding shyly.

“However,” the captain continued, “I thought it was only fair that she would be present for this.”

She raised her head up at him. “This?” she asked.

“You thought there would be no consequences?”

“I… I suppose an official reprimand in in order, Capitaine but…”

“A reprimand?”

“I…”

“You’re getting a spanking, just like you thought fit to give the lady here, ” he gestured to the other policeman in the room, “Vincent, leave us.”

“But… but…” the young lieutenant said, her mouth agape with incredulity. The blond German, Emma Fischer, couldn’t help a cruel little smile.

“Get up, Corinne,” the captain said as he moved to clean a portion of his desk. “I think you know how these things go!”

She slowly rose, panic numbing her. She had never thought she would end up on the receiving side of a spanking… Especially not like this, in her boss’ office, in front of a total stranger… Well, maybe she was a little more than a stranger, but the reversal made it all the more humiliating.

“Hurry up, Corinne, I have other matters to attend to,” the captain growled, and she lay her arms and torso upon his desk as ordered. The fabric of her standard uniform trousers stretched over over round bottom, leaving little to the imagination as unflattering as they were said to be. The blond German was offered a seat, and she took it, wincing a little as she sat down and made herself comfortable for the show that was put on just for her.

The captain put a hand on the small of Corinne’s back and pinned her down on the table. She clenched her teeth and sore she wouldn’t give that mademoiselle Fischer the satisfaction of any cries or moans. Her boss patted her plump bottom a few times and *SMACK!*, he gave her the first real slap. Instantly, pain exploded in her bottom, her eyes widened, her fingers curled up into fist. *SMACK!* another, right on the same spot, and then another, and one more, *SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!*

There was barely a pause in between them, and she could feel the heat and pain building up. Then he switched side and *SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!*, proceeded to give it the same treatment. Her legs were trembling already, and it was all she could do not to try and cover her bottom. She felt her cheeks blushing more and more as her bottom was covered in slaps going from side to side now, setting her bottom on fire and shaming her with each blow. Everyone in the precinct could hear it, she was sure of it.

“Is that what you did to mademoiselle Fischer, Corinne?” the captain asked, pausing a moment. She was breathing heavily, trying not to let the tears flow.

“I… Y-yes, monsieur…”

The other girl cleared her throat. “You didn’t let me keep my trousers on…” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “That filthy little…” Corinne thought, but said nothing.

“Well?” the captain said, slapping her hard on her right cheek

“Aaaah! I…”

He slapped her again, on the left, harder.

“Ooow… It’s true, it’s true, I…”

“Right…” the captain nodded, “Trousers down, lieutenant.”

“But monsieur…”

“No arguing, Corinne, you know what you deserve.”

“Yes…” She closed her eyes and a tear rolled across her blushing cheeks. She got up with a moan of pain and undid her belt, put her equipment on the floor and slowly slid the trousers to the middle of her thighs. She had put on a simple white thong that wouldn’ t protect anything at all, and leave everything on display for the captain and their… guest… Her two large globes were a bright pink already.  He was quite a muscular man, and quite evidently didn’t hold up his slaps. She got back into position over the desk.

She had always been a little hot-headed and she could clearly feel he was enjoying putting her back in her place. He was a nice enough superior, always polite and understanding, he seldom raised his voice. But he was clearly angry this time. She could feel a tingle of excitement between her legs and buried her face in her hands, trying not to think of her intimacy on display, barely hidden behind that tiny thong.

The captain rummaged in a cabinet and she felt something hard and cold patting against her buttocks. Was that…

*WHACK!*

“OooooOOooow!!” She couldn’t help it. The paddle had taken her completely by suprise and God, it hurt

*WHACK!*

“Aaaaaaaaaaah!” she cried out, and tapped her feet on the ground, trying in vain to get the pain to go away. “Please…”

*WHACK!*

The captain was not holding back.

“Please mons—”

*WHACK!*

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaïe… Please, please…”

*WHACK!*

payback

The tears were streaming now, and all she could do was beg for him to stop. She held the position, knowing that it would only get worse if she didn’t.

*WHACK!*

She clenched her teeth and buttcheeks.

*WHACK!*

She closed her eyes, breathing heavily.

*WHACK!*

She could feel the warmth between her legs. She knew she was wet as a fountain. She had never felt so much pain and yet…

*WHACK!*

She moaned and cried even more. The German girl wasn’t missing any of it, she was rubbing her thighs together, one hand over her chest that was rising and falling quickly. She was blushing too, looking at the furious captain dispensing justice. There was something about those French uniforms…

*WHACK!*

“And that’s ten,” the captain announced.

Corinne was bawling over the desk and he got her up and led her into a corner of his office. She instinctively put her hands over her head, still silently crying. The captain was talking to mademoiselle Fischer. She didn’t listen or care, all she could feel was her poor, bruised, crimson bottom. Somehow, she wondered what it would be like to be laying over the captain’s lap… His hands falling rhythmically on her bouncy bottom… She had a little smile through the tears. It was just like her to think about that in her situation.

She heard the door open and close behind her. Papers being put away. Plastic cups falling in the bin. The captain was cleaning up his desk. Good, that meant she wouldn’t have to get back over it. But… Why did he have a paddle in his office?

In the thirty minutes that she spent in the corner, she had many such questions pop into her head. Vincent had come to talk to the captain, and Ludovic too. A third person had come as well but she hadn’t known who it was. Maybe Sophie? She knew that she would never hear the end of it now. Finally, the captain allowed her to put her trousers back on. She did so and turned around, biting her lip a little.

“I’m sorry, monsieur,” she said in a little voice.

He nodded. “Good. I hope you’ve learned your lesson today.”

She nodded back, “Yes, Capitaine Ballanger, I have…”

“Next time an idea like this pops into your head…

“Yes?”

“At least do it away from the public’s eye…”

 

Claire’s training

“S… Stop…” Claire panted, her face red with exhaustion. She bent over, putting her hands on her knees, and tried to calm her breathing.

The other woman turned around and came to her, still jogging. “What, now?”

“I… I just can’t go on!” she said, still catching her breath.

“Are you kidding? It hasn’t been half a mile yet!” the other woman frowned.

Claire kept looking down, biting her lips, tears forming already.

“No…” she said timidly, “I just can’t… I’m not fit at all, you know that.”

“Yes, I know, that’s why you hired me, Claire,” the personal trainer said, “I explained to you how we would proceed, yes?”

“Yes…”

“You want to fit in your wedding dress, correct?”

“Yes… I do…”

“How much longer do you have?”

“F-Five weeks,” she stuttered.

“Five weeks,” the trainer repeated, “Do you think you’ll reach your goal in five weeks if you abandon after 600 yards?”

“But I can’t breathe! I’m exhausted already… I’ve tried, right? I’ll do better tomorrow.. I’m just a little tired, it’s early and—

“I don’t want to hear it,” the other woman snapped, and Claire was silenced immediately, “Again, we agreed on how things would go, Claire.”

She used her name as if she were admonishing a misbehaving little girl, and she felt shameful at the idea. She straightened up, her breathing a little calmer now. The blush on her round cheeks hadn’t receded, quite the contrary.

The trainer spoke again, “I guarantee you will fit in that dress in five weeks, but for that to happen, we’ll have to do things my way.” She pointed at a nearby bench. “Come with me.”

“No!” Claire protested, “You’re not really going to spank me…”

“You agreed to it, didn’t you?”

“No… I mean, yes but…”

“But what, Claire?”

“I…”

“Do you want to fit in that dress or not?”

“Yes… of course I do…”

The woman took her by the arm and started to walk towards the bench, Claire in tow.

“Please… It’s… it’s right on the road… I… We can do it back home, okay?”

“Oh no, young lady” —there was that condescending tone again— “We’re not done running, we’re continuing right after I’m done here.” Her tone brooked no arguing.

Her eyes full of tears, Claire followed, shamefully. “Please… Somewhere out of the way… Please…”

Rolling her eyes, the trainer got them through a little bush and into a little clearing. It would hardly shield the noise, but at least they were out of view. There weren’t many people jogging at this hour, and even then, the lesson would all the more fruitful if someone happened to discover them.

Claire was sniffling, unable to contain the tears. The mere thought of her, a grown woman, being spanked over someone’s lap… It made her shiver. What an idiot she had been, what kind of trainer threatened to spank her trainees? Why had she accepted that at all? And yet… She really wanted that dream wedding, that beautiful dress, she wanted to do everything right and to look the perfect bride. She knew she should have tried harder.

The stern woman sat on a low branch, still holding Claire by the arm. She unceremoniously pulled the curvy young woman over her lap and started spanking her round, bouncy bottom over her tracksuits. The sound disturbed a couple of birds that flew away in a flutter. She kept on slamming her hand on Claire’s bottom, faster, harder, drawing out little cries of pain and shame.

Not daring to speak up, the young woman tried to keep her lips sealed. The noise was bad enough, her bottom was burning already. Tears were rolling down her cheeks. She finally let out a sigh of relief when the trainer stopped spanking her.

“I..” she started, then felt the woman’s hand on the belt of the trousers, grabbing them and pulling them down. “No no no no no…!” she pleaded in a tearful voice, “Don’t! Please! I’ll run! I’ll do everything you tell me to do; I…”

Her white, unflattering panties came down next, and she felt the cool morning air on her bottom and thighs. She broke down in sobs as the slaps rained down again, harder than before, on her sit spots, down her thighs, covering her large behind in red handprints. She begged with every breath, biting her lips, sniffling, crying.

otk5b

After what felt like an eternity, the woman relented and ordered her up.

“Now,” she said in a more gentle tone, “we’re going to take it slow and we’ll go to the end of the planned run, all right?”

Claire nodded quickly, pulling her panties and trousers back up, too ashamed to speak. The woman thumbed a few tears away. “It’s always hardest the first day,” she said with a little smile.

“Yes ma’am,” Claire said in a tiny voice, rubbing her burning bottom.

As they came out of the bushes, the young woman still wiping tears off her cheeks, a jogger ran by with a wave.

“Hey Katia,” he said with a grin, “New client, huh?” Running on, he winked at a mortified Claire. She could feel the warmth in her derrière and pouted. No way she would be punished again, she firmly decided.

In fact, she was, but it was all worth it when, five weeks later, she stood resplendent before the priest and finally said “Yes”.