Story - Aunt Mary

If you have been reading the blog then you will know I wrote a post called Joint Spanking a few weeks back. The inspiration for that post and my desire, still unfilled, to be spanked with my partner comes from this story I found on the web years ago. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did when I first came across it.

Aunt Mary

My wife Sara and I play spanking games. We take turns spanking and getting spanked and after a spanking, or sometimes a pair of spankings (one for each of us) we always make love. I think I enjoy the spanking play more than my wife does.


She plays though, and sometimes she is the one who suggests a spanking. When it is her idea, I am usually the one who gets the spanking. Our spankings are not very painful. I spank her with my hand. She spanks me with a paddle, because I can hardly feel her hand spankings. When she uses the paddle the spanking stings, but just enough to be exciting.

That has been fun, but last weekend we had an experience that was the most intense and exciting I have ever experienced.

Sara's friend Mary was visiting us for a few days. Mary lives out of state, but was in town on business. Of course, Sara insisted that Mary stay with us. Sara and I both enjoyed having her there. It is more fun to enjoy your home town, when you have an out of towner to show around.

During dinner Friday night, Mary mentioned that she was going to buy a copy of Secretary. "It is an independent film from last summer that got a lot of attention at the Sundance film festival. Did you guys see it"

"Yes" I said "Sara and I saw it last summer. I thought it was really well done. Funny and kind of sweet"

"I agree" Mary looked at my wife I thought the spankings were kind of sexy too, Do you and Robert ever of think about spanking each other"

I could tell my wife was a little embarrassed, but Mary had already said it was sexy and Sara wouldn't mislead her good friend. Sara didn't provide any details, but she smiled and "fessed up" to how we give each other "love taps" from time to time.

Mary turned to me and asked "Just a little slap on the hiney, or is it over the knee or grab your ankles stuff?" I explained that we weren't abusive, but that sometimes we did a bit more than just a slap on the hiney. Mary seemed kind of impressed, but let the conversation drift to other things. I was a little relieved to be off of the subject as Sara and I had never discussed our spanking games with any one.

Although we enjoyed having Mary visiting, a house guest did add stress. By Saturday night Sara and I felt like snapping at each other. We were trying to keep it private, so while Mary was showering we exchanged some sharp words. Of course, we quit paying attention to our surroundings and were still picking at each other when Mary came into the kitchen.

"What is this?" She asked "Are you two having a spat?"

"Oh it's nothing" Sara answered "He just gets like this sometimes"

"Well, I heard childish bickering from both of you. You both deserve a spanking. This is my last night here, so I am going to take this opportunity to give it to you"

I saw Mary's smile and guessed she was joking. "We deserve one, but I don't think you are really serious" I said, and met her smile with a smile of my own.

"Sara, what do you think?" Mary asked. Sara, unusually quiet, just shrugged.

"Ok then, you will see what serious is Robert. You two go up to your bedroom, remove your slacks and wait for me." Sara and I had been sniping at each other just minutes ago, but now Sara took my hand, squeezed it, and walked upstairs with me.

I couldn't believe anything was really happening. After I entered the bedroom, I stalled for a moment to see what Sara would do. To my surprise, she removed her heels and began to pull down her navy blue slacks.

I was starting to get a funny feeling in my stomach. This was something new, exciting and scary all at the same time. I took off my loafers, slipped out of my trousers, hung them over a chair and set next to my wife on the bed. I had those "principal's office" butterflies in my stomach. I asked Sara, in a hoarse whisper if Mary would really spank us.

"I don't know"

"If Mary wants to, will you let her"

Sara took my hand. "I will if you will" she said.

Mary walked in still wearing her beige skirt and jacket with a white blouse. Sara and I were sitting knee to bare knee, holding hands, fully dressed from the waist up, but just underwear from the waist down.

"You seem to be behaving yourselves now, why do you suppose that is?" Sara just shrugged. I didn't know what to say.

"Well Robert, get the paddle." There was no way Mary could have known that we had a paddle, and I was embarrassed about walking to the nightstand to get it. I was in my underwear for one thing, but was most embarrassed by the erection that clearly tented out my thin underwear. Nevertheless, I obeyed. I walked quickly to the nightstand and pulled out my home made paddle.

Mary took it, patted her palm and said "nice". I am pleased with my paddle. I had re-sawn a piece of oak to make a 3/8" board 20" long by 3 ½" wide. I had cut out a comfortable handle, rounded all of the edges, sanded and finished it with rubbing oil.

"Now then", Mary said. "Each of you go to your side of the bed and bend over it to receive your spanking."

I went to the right side of the bed, while Sara went to the left. Our bed is high enough so that my knees were just touching the floor and I knew that Sara's knees would not quite touch the floor. Mary walked behind Sara, bent over, and pulled down Sara's panties. I could see the surprise on Sara's face.

I was looking across the bed into Sara's face and could see past Sara to what Mary was doing. Sara could see my face, but she couldn't see what Mary was doing.

What Mary was doing was moving behind and to left of Sara's bare bottom. Mary removed her jacket and unbuttoned her cuffs. Mary stood at a right angle to Sara's buttocks, lifted the paddle to shoulder height and brought it down HARD on Sara's butt. Sara gasped. I did too. I saw Sara's mouth make a little O of surprise and her eyes widened with the shock and pain. Sara had never been spanked with a paddle, just by my hand. Before Sara hardly knew what had happened, (maybe she thought it was over) Mary had the paddle shoulder high again and slammed it down onto Sara's defenseless bottom a second time. This time I saw Sara wince. Her eyes squinted shut, her lips separated to show teeth, and her hands flew back to cover her sore posterior.

"Sara", Mary scolded. "You are NOT to cover your naughty ass with your hands. What if I hit your hand by mistake. If you don't want me to finish, I will stop this spanking now and go back to my room. Do you want me to stop" Nothing has ever surprised me more than my wife's answer. She muttered that she didn't want Mary to quit. It put a lump in my throat. I didn't know if Sara was sharing my fantasy now come true, or if she just wanted to make sure the spanking didn't end without me getting my punishment share.

Mary made sure that Sara was willing. "Sara, you will answer me again and you will address me as Aunt Mary" I hadn't thought of Mary as Sara's aunt, but actually she is. Sara and Mary were almost the same age, but Mary was the youngest daughter of Sara's grandmother.

"Please don't stop the spanking Aunt Mary"

"Fine, you may reach across and hold Robert's hands so that you don't cover up again. That lapse is going to cost you an extra stroke." With that, Mary's hand went up again and SPLAT the paddle came down on Sara's upturned bottom. Sara squeezed my hands in hers but didn't move.

"Very good, here comes the penalty stroke and then I will go to Robert" She raised the paddle higher than before and brought down the hardest swat so far. Sara cried out and winced but didn't let go of my hand. I felt love and pity for my darling. Her face was puffy and red and there was a trickle of a tear at the corner of her eye.

My feeling for Sara didn't lessen the concern for myself though. I knew that this spanking was going to hurt. I was determined to take my three swats without covering myself and without shaming myself in front of Sara.

Mary walked behind me and pulled my underwear down. I felt shy and defenseless without my shorts between Mary and myself. Mary took position behind me. I was cheating. I could watch Mary's preparation. There is a dressing mirror in the corner of the room and unnoticed by Mary or Sara I used that mirror to watch Mary raise the paddle to above shoulder height, AND bend from the knees AND twist at the waist. She had put the full strength of her shoulder and arm into Sara's spanking. She was adding the weight and strength of her legs and torso into my spanking.

WHAM, the paddle hit my bare butt harder than I could have imagined. I grunted/gasped and looked across at Sara. Her red face and wet eyes were right in front of me. She held out her hands and I grasped them.

"Do you think you should hold Sara's hand to avoid covering up"

"Yes Maam", I replied. She wasn't my aunt, and my response satisfied her. She blasted my bottom again with a second swat. I squeezed my wife's hand so hard I might have hurt her, but she didn't complain. I took a deep breath just in time to expel it with the third swat. I would have liked to reach back and rub my bottom, but I didn't know if Mary would approve. In addition, I was too proud to show how much it hurt. It burnt like fire. I was glad I had taken my three, but I was a tiny bit disappointed that it was over.

It wasn't though. Mary walked around the bed to Sara again. Without letting Sara know what was happening (poor Sara, not able to see what was coming) she gave Sara another swat. "Ohhh" Sara gasped and grabbed my hands. Another blow came down and Sara started twisting on the bed. By the time the third spank hit Sara's round bottom she was whimpering and tears flooded her eyes.

I was so proud of her. She was holding my hands. I wasn't holding hers. At any time, she could have just stood up and said stop it. Soon Mary was back in position behind me. Obviously, it wasn't just three hard blows, but an unknown number of sets of three that we were getting.

Before Mary had completely walked around I had reversed my grip to hold Sara's hand. POW, the paddle hit my already sore butt with all the force that the athletic woman could put into it. I couldn't help making noise. Before I was prepared, the second SPLAT hit the soft part of my bottom right above the thighs. I confess that I cried out, closed my eyes tight, and held my wife's hand as hard as I could. When the third blow landed I couldn't hold still. I had enough control to keep my hands still, but I arched my back and kicked my feet a little.

That had to be it. I felt I could not handle another set. Consequently, when I saw Mary move back behind Sara for the third set I almost begged her to stop. I kept my teeth clenched though, and I think Sara could tell what to expect from my face. She grabbed my hands, put her face down in the bedspread and waited - bottom up. She didn't wait long. That incredibly loud smack hit just an instant before Sara twitched and wrung my hands. Two more SPLAT SPLAT landed on Sara's hind end and by this time Sara was crying and sniffling out loud but still not asking Mary to stop.

It was my turn again. I don't think I would have stayed in place if not for Sara. Sara had never experienced anything more intense than a hand spanking and she was taking this paddling. I had to too. By the second swat I was squirming. In fact, my back was arched, by butt was clenched and pressed into the side of the bed. I felt like a little boy trying to keep his little bottom far away from a spanking hand that inexorably follows his arching twisting attempt to move his bottom away.

By the third swat I was in tears. I don't think I made sobbing noises but I couldn't control my tear ducts. I couldn't believe it, when Mary walked around the bed again and took her place behind Sara. This had to stop. I was about to say enough when Mary spoke.

"Sara, have you learned your lesson"

"Yesss, Aunt Mary" she sobbed.

"Very well, your spanking will be over with one more swat, IF you ask for it
nicely"

"Please Aunt Mary, will you please give me one last spank" (I appreciated how Sara asked nicely AND got the ONE LAST spank part into the contract)

"Are you sure?"

"Yes Aunt Mary"

Mary wound up like she had for my spankings and let Sara have it. The hardest one Sara had felt yet. "OWWW", Sara shouted in pain but kept her hands on mine.

Now Mary came back around to my side of the bed. One more, I had to do it.
Sara had.

"Same deal for you Robert, have you learned your lesson"

I took a deep breath to acquire control over my voice "Yes Ma'am I have learned my lesson, but please Ma'am give me one last spank to make sure" Mary chuckled. I could see her in the mirror, but I couldn't stand to watch.

I closed my eyes. It seemed like I waited and waited. I was just about to lose my nerve when POW the last swat hit my blistered buns. My eyes watered so much that everything blurred, but I held my position.

Mary leaned over and kissed my cheek. "I want you to two to get up and go to bed after I leave. You have been wonderful hosts. Sleep in tomorrow morning, I will cook you breakfast. Be good to each other" On her way out she stopped and kissed Sara's cheek.

When Mary left, Sara and I finished undressing and slid under the bedspread. I reached over and touched Sara's damp cheek. "You were so brave, I love you so much"

"I love you too. Mary hit you so HARD, I don't know how you could stand it."

I reached across and caressed Sara's right buttock. It was hot to the touch.

I asked her if her bottom was on fire like mine. She giggled and asked me if
she could touch mine.

"OOOH, it is so HOT she giggled" I put my mouth on her nipple, gently rubbed her hot ass, and then kissed her lips. In return she lightly touched my sore butt and touched me in other places I liked. Her attention to my well-punished ass was deliciously erotic.

Soon, she was lowering herself on my blue steel erection. (I was a gentleman and suggesting she be on top). The smooth sheets irritated my sore buns. She was hot and tight and slippery as warm oil, I reached around her to caress her hot hind end and we slowly made love.

Story - The Ritual

One of the authors whose stories I have loved reading for sometime is by the late Alex Birch who passed away a few years ago. He was a lovely man by all accounts and a great writer and you can still find some of his works on the web if you care to look. Here is an example of his writing for you all to enjoy and the ritual of a spanking is something I really enjoy.

As she entered the bedroom, her throat tightened and the trembling began. It had always been the same, would always be the same, and there was no point in fighting it. She stared into the full length mirror as always before slowly unfastening her dress, letting it drop slowly down around her ankles. She stepped out of it, her eyes never leaving the mirror as she performed the same operation with her slip and then her pantyhose. She looked at herself in the mirror once more contemplating her body as she stood like a statue in just her bra and knickers.

 

Swallowing hard she reached behind and unfastened the clasp of her brassiere, then slid it off and put it on the chair, all the time staring in the mirror at her large breasts with the pale pink nipples, breasts now heaving in time with her excited breathing. Slowly she pulled her knickers down and stepped out of them, kicking them to one side as she gazed almost critically through the mirror at the sparse covering of hair protecting her sex .

Five minutes he always gave her. Five minutes to get herself completely naked and in position before he walked through that bedroom door, cane in hand. If he walked in and found her unready, and it had only happened once, the punishment would be doubled. She had never wanted to repeat that experience. It was usually twelve strokes anyway.

Swallowing hard once more she turned and knelt up on the bed, her bottom towards the mirror, then pulled forward the two pillows over which she would lie, raising her bottom higher for punishment. Before taking up the position she reached into her bedside cabinet and took out a hand mirror which she placed beside her on the bed.

Imagining she could hear his footsteps on the stairs, she rested her stomach across the two pillows bringing her knees up as far as she could so that her bottom was fully elevated then she reached for the hand mirror beside her and looked at the reflection of her rear through the tall mirror behind her. As always she found the spectacle exciting and very lewd, bringing her knees just a little further up so that the angle widened her bottom cheeks. She gasped aloud as she gazed at the view that he must have seen every time he punished her and wondered if it had ever aroused him. Between the plump,stretched cheeks of her bottom, the tiny wrinkled button of her anus was offered up and, underneath, the tight salmon pink slit of her vagina seemed to almost demand attention. She felt her heart begin to beat even faster. She had taken about four minutes so far and there would normally be one minute for her to lie in this demeaning position as she contemplated her wickedness and her humiliation as every private place a modest girl possessed was graphically displayed. She put the small mirror away and lay forward, her head resting on her arms as he had always demanded.

She thought about what always happened next. He always walked into the room quietly without knocking and cast his gaze over her as she lay there with her bottom raised, trembling with fear and anticipation. Nothing was said unless he found fault with her posture or state of readiness and then it was one terse word... 'double!'. She would tense her buttocks as she felt the cold rattan laid against the cheeks of her backside and then, seconds later, she would try to suppress a scream as a line of burning fire raced across her bare bottom. He would pause then for maybe half a minute as she absorbed the full pain and terror of that first stroke before revisiting his target with the second. She never knew if he would lay the next over a the first weal or on a new patch of virgin skin which added to the fear and torment in her mind. As the caning continued and the pain began to mount it was all she could do to hug the soft coverlet, burying her head into her arms in order to suppress the wild scream that was striving to be released. Screaming was not permitted and usually led to additional strokes. Woe betide her too if her self discipline failed and she rolled over onto her side for then the punishment would begin again. She had trained herself to bite into her wrists and absorb the dreadful, sickening agony of the caning, almost crying with joy when she heard him sit down on the bedside chair having spoken just four words 'Five minutes crying time!' for now she knew it was over.

This meant she now had five minutes to lie, unmoving, in this degrading position as he sat and watched while the pain and humiliation of her beating sank in. Five minutes where she was allowed to open her heart and her lungs to cry out all her shame and her naughtiness as he watched in silence. It was five minutes which she always put to good use, weeping her heart out at the pain and indignity she had suffered and was suffering. Five minutes while she reflected on the misdeeds which had brought her to this state. Five minutes too where the violent agony of her caning began to diminish slightly, becoming a pervasive warmth which spread like a forest fire across her buttocks and into her loins where sudden, shameful and unexpected feelings began to vie with the dreadful pain and embarrassment. She would cry and blush in her shame and agony before he said tersely 'Get up!'

Then she would climb painfully from the bed and dry her eyes for now she was expected to be back in control and attentive. She would stand facing him with her hands on her head, still completely naked, as he lectured her on her misdeeds and tell her that even worse would follow should she misbehave again. Then, the lecture over, she would get into her night clothes as he watched impassively and clamber into bed regardless of the time of day. She would stay in bed until the following morning with no meals. Tomorrow he would kiss and cuddle her with a tear in his eye but tonight, content with proceedings, he would rise from the chair and leave her room without a word.

She lay still as she contemplated his arrival. There would be about ten seconds now and she could almost hear his footsteps on the stairs ...nine, eight, seven... then brrrrrrrr!!! ...the doorbell rang!!

She nearly had a heart attack as she clambered from the bed and looked at her watch. 11am ..Oh God, they were early. She shouted down through the bedroom window and, flustered, began to climb back into her clothes. Through the open window she heard her son's cheerful reply and the lively giggling of her two young granddaughters. Her face lit up with delight for to see her son and daughter -in-law and the two beautiful girls brought warmth into her lonely life. How times had changed, she thought, for the two youngsters had grown into lovely children without experiencing even a punishing hand in their lives. Spanking to them was some word in history books from a bygone age. .

Before finishing her dressing she reached into the bedside cabinet once more and found the creased sepia photograph of a slim stern man with swept back hair and a neatly waxed moustache. She kissed it tenderly as she always did, a tear not far away, as she replaced the photograph of her father in the drawer. Still tense with excitement and before replacing her knickers, she explored betwen her legs and found as always after these re-enactments that despite her sixty eight years she was extremely moist. She reached for a tissue and dried herself before replacing her underwear. Moving now to her bedroom door, she allowed herself a guilty smile. Perhaps those wonderful little girls standing on her doorstep had everything going for them but they WERE missing something exciting in their lives which could never be explained logically.

Perhaps they would find out for themselves one day across the lap of a lover or husband but they sure as hell weren't going to find out from Grandma!

Story - A Late Caning

This story is years old and was written by someone known as Mike and posted onto the internet. It is one of those stories that has just stuck with me through the years. The one thing that I remember is the shop scene where the young man is taken into the shop to buy a cane. I must remember to do that someday.

A LATE CANING

It was the late spring 1989. One Saturday morning after getting up quite late - about 11.30 - I had an argument with my Mom about using her car all the night before. As I was 21, I felt old enough to stay out all night - and so did Mom. But what I didn't realize then was: It was HER car and she leant it to me for going to cinema, not for driving around with it all night. She didn't appreciate this, as I hadn't asked.


There was nothing more to say as Mom said she won't tolerate this a second time: I wouldn't get her car again for the next weeks. With this our argument could have been over, but somehow I lost control over what I said:

"Alright then. Keep your fucking car, old nut!"

Mom didn't replie. Her only reaction was a long stern look into my eyes.

Immediately I felt ashamed for what I've said and left for my room. I laid down on my bed and thought about me insulting my Mom this way. Only two years ago, she would have spooned my naughty bare behind for this - there was no question about that.

Today she didn't - and I didn't feel convenient with this fact, because it made me feel guilty: I had no right at all to insult Mom! My behavior had to have some consequences - or I could never look into Mom's eyes again.

The longer I pondered about this, the clearer it came to my mind: I deserved a real severe punishment from Mom. I thought about the possibilities.

Should I ask her for grounding me? Mom never had grounded me without spanking me before and it was no appropriate punishment for my misbehave today.

Should she cut my money? No punishment that really would last. It was clear: Mom had to punish me physically as shew had always done in the past until I was nineteen.

But would Mom give her 21-year-old son a good spanking? I prayed she would: After an hour of thinking I took a heart, stood up, left my room and seeked for Mom. I found her in the living-room reading a book.

"Mom?"

She looked up. I still could see the angry expression in her face. "What is it?"

"I'm so, so sorry for what I said, Mom."

"I hope so."

"Well, ahmm,..." - I uttered.

"Please return to your room. I can't stand your presence now, I don't want to see you anymore today!", Mom said in a quiet but firm voice.

"I know you're disappointed by me: So am I! Couldn'Ät you do anything to change this?"

"Me? It's your turn to do better!"

"I, I mean haven't you considered to punish me as you did all the years?"

"How shall I punish a 21-year-old man? Take you over my knee? Well, it's right I gave you some spankings during all your teens - but would you still accept being spanked by your mother?"

"Yes, Mom. I see no other choice. I'm feeling so sorry and I really know I need a reminder."

"You realize, that you ask me for a spanking?"

"Yes, please, Mom, give me a spanking!"

Mom paused. She put down her book and finally said: "You're sure? It won't be fun!"

"No fun. Shall I get the spoon?" ( Mom had always punished my younger brother and me with a 15-inch wooden spoon, which she kept in her dresser)

Mom paused again: "No wait. I'm really proud of you showing this understanding for your misbehave. And I'm really going to spank you. But as you're no longer a child, I think you need a very spanking today. One, that you were not used to in the past. I guess, it's two years now that you got the wooden spoon, isn't it?"

"Yes. Two years. The last spanking I got over Anne's knee almost two years ago. You remember?"

"Yes, I do. She did a great job, didn't she?", Mom asked slightly grinning.

"Yes, I won't ever forget."

"It was supposed that you'd never forget it! It's the same reason that we take a trip to the florist's. Come on, take on your shoes, they'll close in some minutes!", Mom said looking at her watch.

"To the florist's?" I didn't understand yet.

"I guess they sell some canes there for people who want to stabilize their plants - or punish their naughty boys. Come on!"

"You really want to cane me? The spoon hurts enough and always taught me to behave!"

"You'll have the chance to compare."

My Mom now swatted the seat of my jeans with my shoe: "Take it on, now!"

I obeyed and accompanied my Mom to the florist's shop.

We entered and Mom headed for the corner with the canes. They had some made of green plastic - Mom wasn't interested in these ones. But there were others made out of rattan. Without a word Mom took one of the longer ones - about 30 inches - out and tested it's flexibility.

Suddenly Mom adressed one of the assistance girls: "You sell some longer ones? About three feet?"

"Let me see, ma'am."

The girl, probably younger than me, went to the stockroom and returned after some long moments with about a dozen very long canes - all over 30 inches, some even about a 40 inches - in her arms.

"How thick should it be, I mean how big is the plant you need it for?"

"Well, quite tall.", Mom said grinning at me: "In fact taller than me. Nonetheless I need a very long but also very flexible one:"

Of course I blushed. The girl asked a bit confused now:

"Maybe this one?" and gave Mom a thin, 40 inch long cane.

Mom took it, tested it's flexibility by bending it almost into a circle: and turned to me: "Well, I guess it'll do the job it is required to do. What do you think, Mike?"

"Ahmm, well, I..." I fell through the floor as I looked at the 20 or so year old assistance now grinning at me.

"Okay, let's see then. Turn around to the wall!"

Mom helped me by taking my wrist in a firm grip with her left. Then she pulled my pants tight and swatted my clothed behind with the cane.

WHACK!!! - "Ouch!!!"

"I guess, it's perfect. I'll take it!", Mom said to the assistance, who couldn't believe what she just saw. "This young man will pay the cane!", she said handing the cane to me.

"It's 4.95 then.", the girl said grinning. She took it from me and removed the price label from the cane. "Shall I wrap it up?"

"N...no, th...thanks.",I uttered with my red face and gave the girl the money with uneasy hands.

"Thank you!" The girl gave me the cane asking: "Will your Mommy make your naughty bottom match the color of your face?"

I took the cane avoiding any look into the girl's eyes.

"You're right Miss! It won't be fun and there's no reason to laugh about, young lady! Maybe your Mom should give you a good spanking sometime!", my Mom said angrily to the young assistance, which was too perplexed to answer.

We left the shop. I had to carry the cane up to our appartment. No more word was spoken. I hoped we won't meet anybody on our way. I had luck. Mom opened the door and we finally entered our flat. I closed the door.

"Wait in your room for me. I want you to be dressed in your pajama when I'll follow in some minutes. And have your cane ready for me!", Mom said firmly.

"But..."

"Stop it. You asked me for a spanking - well you'll get it and a good caning extra."

I rushed to my room, the cane in my uneasy hands. I put the cane onto my bed. I undressed: I took off my shoes, my shirt, my pants, panties, socks, T-shirt. I laid these clothes onto my bed next to the cane and retrieved from under the coverled my blue pajama. I stepped into the trouser and took on the top.

In this moment my Mom knocked at my door.

"You're ready, young man?"

"Yes, Mom, come in, please!"

She opened the door and entered. As she closed the door I realized her carrying the good, old wooden spoon in her right.

As I stared at the spoon, she said: "I said, you would get the chance to compare this spoon with our new cane. This means, before being caned you will get spooned first!"

She sat onto my bed next to the devices I deplored there, including the cane.

"Come to me!", she ordered.

"But you want to take over your knee, Mom? You didn't do this since I was fourteen! Please let me bend over my chair! It's so humiliating being bent over your knee!", I protested.

"One more word and you'll get extra, young man!" She pointed at her left knee with the spanking spoon. "It is supposed to humiliate. Over my knee!", she ordered patting the spoon at the palm of her left hand.

I obeyed and shuffled towards her lap. Then I took a heart and bent over my Mom's knee. In this moment I remembered my trip over Anne's knee two years ago.

In fact I was too tall and to heavy for a woman's knee, but somehow Mom managed to stand my weight - as Anne once did in this hotel room.

I smelt Mom's parfum and tried to lay as convenient as possible: My face almost touched Mom's black slippers, I could see her left ankle and the hem of her blue jeans; finally I got a grip of Mom's leg. Now I could feel Mom's finger nails on my still cold flesh as she lowered my pajama's trouser.

"Okay, you know why you are punished, young man?"

"Yes, Mom."

"Fine. I want you to keep still on my knee during the spanking. Otherwise you'd get extra. Is that clear, young man?"

"Yes, of course."

"As this is your first encounter with this wood for quite a long time, I want you to be concentrated while receiving the spanks: You're no longer used to this pain I'll spank into your buttocks and I do not want you falling off my lap!"

"I'll do my best, Mom."

"Okay then. Let's get it over with."

Mom drew back the wooden spoon and began:

WHACK!!! - "Ouch!!"
WHACK!!! - "Ahhh!!"
WHACK!!! - "Ohhh!!!"
WHACK!!! - "Pleaaa...!!"
WHACK!!! - "Ahmmm!!!"
WHACK!!! - "Ouuhhhch!!!"

After waiting a long moment Mom said:

"Okay, get up!"

I got up and turned around to look into my Mom's eyes.

"This was some childhood remembrance, wasn't it? Now you will get the real punishment." With this Mom put down the wooden spoon and picked up the fearsome long cane from my bed. She again bent it into a circle and tested it's hissing sound.

"It sounds good, doesn't it?"

"I'm scared, Mom! I'll prefer two dozen more strokes with the spoon tan a single one with that cane! It'll hurt awfully."

"This cane is supposed to hurt. It will you remind to behave and never ever insult me again. As this cane is to long for an over-the-knee-use take out your chair, please!"

With my pajama trousers round my ankles I walked over to my desk and took out the chair and placed it in the middle of the room.

"Okay, stand behind the chair!", Mom said standing up, the cane in her right pointing to the floor.

As I stood where I was supposed to stand, Mom walked to my left. "Bend over!", she commanded.

As I had bent over, Mom pressed the cane against my already hot bottom cheeks.

"Because this cane will terrible hurt, you'll have to concentrate for each swat. So I want you to get a firm grip of the chair and to count every one of the twelve swats loudly! Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Mom!", I replied grabbing the legs of my chair.

Still pressing the cane onto my posteriora, Mom said: "Let's get it over with!" She drew back the cane. During the long moments of awaiting the cane, I suddenly felt Mom's left hand touching my back: She held me softly in position.

I heard a hissing sound and in the same moment an awful sting in my buttocks:

WHACK!!! - "One!"
WHACK!!! - "Ouuoh, two!"
WHACK!!! - "Ahh, three."

By now I began to squirm: Mom had to get a tighter grip of my back. Again she drew back the cane, again a hissing sound was heard:

WHACK!!! - "Four!"
WHACK!!! - "Five. Mom, pleaaa..."
WHACK!!! - "Ahhh!!Six!"
WHACK!!! - "I'll be...seven!"
WHACK!!! - "...good! Eight!"
WHACK!!! - "Aaaoohhh!!!...nine!"

My bottom was set under fire. The unbelievable sting made me bawl and squirm around on my chair. Mom paused saying:

"There is no need in bawling. If you do not stop at once, you'll get extras!"

I concentrated and bent over again properly. Mom drew back the cane.

WHACK!!! - "Ahhh!! Ten!"

I felt the sting in my thighs: Mom had decided to give them a taste of the cane, too.

WHACK!!! - "Ooooohhh!!! Eleven!" WHACK!!! - "Ahhhohh!!! Twelve!"

With this last stroke, Mom had returned to my buttocks.

"Stand up!" came the command.

I stood up, sobbing.

"I hope this will be a lesson for you!!

Still the cane in her hand she hugged me saying: "I hope I never ever have to use this cane again! Now take on your clothes!"

I walked over to my bed, Mom observed me taking off the pajama and dressing again. As I had finished, she said handing the cane to me: "I don't think I need it again, but nonetheless keep it in your wardrobe for me. I want to know where to get it, if necessary."

"Yes, Mom." I took the cane and put it into my wardrobe.

Mom picked up the wooden spoon from my bed and left the room.

As I was left alone with my stinging behind, I fell into my bed and now really had the chance to think about my mischief...

THE END

Story - Spanking My Naughty Boy

After yesterdays post I thought it would be nice to include a story about a more erotic sort of story so I have included this one from someone called KatieBadGrr. It comes from the days of the newsgroups, and in particular a group call alt.sex.spanking that is sadly full of spam these days. 

Spanking My Naughty Boy

The last time I spanked my naughty boy I made him strip naked for me, while I leaned back against the headboard and watched. He blushed so charmingly as he slid his boxers to the ground, giving me just a peek at his long, lean back.
He was still blushing when he stood, his hands dropping to cover his erection, but only for a moment. He knows better than that. I crooked my finger just a bit, beckoning him closer, and he stepped to the side of the bed. He was nervous, I could see, very nervous. But he was excited too - that was impossible to miss.

I reached out my hand and stroked his cock lightly with my fingers, delicately, just along the under side. He shivered but didn't try to stop me. Ahh, such a good naughty boy.

His attention was fixed on my hand until I looked up into his eyes. He held my gaze a second or two, then looked down. The heat was coming off him in waves.

I drew my hand away, and slid my long silky slip up past my thighs. I patted my bare lap lightly, without saying a word.

I smiled as I felt the bedsprings compress, and he climbed awkwardly up to kneel at my side. Then my lap was warm and full, his weight pressing down on my thighs. His skin was almost hot to the touch, and I could feel his pulsing cock between us.

I ran my hands over his body, rubbing his cheeks, his thighs, and his bare back until he began to relax. I murmured soothingly to him, trailing my fingers up his spine, then letting my nails tickle down his back and over his bottom. He shivered uncontrollably and tensed, the muscles along his back and shoulders hardening before my eyes. I grinned. My naughty boy is helpless when I tease him.

I dug my fingers into the flesh of his ass, rubbing and massaging, until he unwillingly relaxed again. Resting my hand on his cheek, I asked if he was ready for his spanking. He nodded his head against the bed, but I wasn't satisfied. I asked again, scratching my nail lightly against his skin.

"Yes," he whispered in a strangled voice. I smiled.

I brought my hand down hard on the bottom of one of his cheeks, and then another right in the same spot. It stung, as I knew it would, and he jumped. Pushing him back down on my lap, I continued spanking - not too hard, but not softly either. His skin began glowing pink very quickly; my naughty boy has very delicate skin. I enjoyed watching the handprints form red, then fade into the background.

Once or twice I slapped his thighs, making him kick and gasp - he didn't like that at all, but I did. That's why I did it again.

Some men have buns of steel, so my hand gets tired very quickly trying to make an impression, but my naughty boy can't take all that much. He squirms and ouches over my lap, hating and loving it as my small hand crashes down over and over again on his tender behind. I can spank him for a very long time if I want to.

I could feel his hard cock pushing against my warm thigh with every blow now. "Don't come," I warned him softly. He whimpered but nodded, and I could feel him straining to keep himself from rubbing against me.

I fired off a few more smacks, but then took pity on him, and pushed him further over my lap so that his cock fell between my thighs instead of touching my skin. I let him rest for a few seconds, caressing his back and the back of his neck, running my fingers through his hair. I soothed his stinging bottom with my hands, hearing his whimpers turn into appreciative hums.

But I couldn't let him become too comfortable, now, could I?

I reached across the bed for the wooden hairbrush he had bought me but never felt. He stiffened as I rubbed the bristles over his sore, red skin.

"No," he whispered. I ignored him, trailing the bristles over his thighs, and back up to his ass. I tapped his cheeks lightly with the bristles.

"No," he said again. "I can't."

"Yes, you can," I told him, flipping the brush over so that the cool, smooth wood rested against him. He protested just a little bit, fidgeting over my lap until I tapped him softly with the brush. A few light spanks, then a few more, then a few just a little harder. Then a few very hard.

I let the brush rest again, and nudged his thighs apart with my hand. Slipping my fingers down beneath him, I let my nails play lightly over his balls. His entire body went rigid, and gasping moans escaped his mouth. Ahh, yes. I scratched at the insides of his thighs and rubbed between his legs, feeling his cock growing and straining between mine.

Then the hairbrush again, harder this time, and just a little faster. His bottom turned a glorious red, and I knew he couldn't take much more, my poor naughty boy. I tossed the hairbrush aside, spanking him with my hand again, much harder now, enjoying the sizzling heat coming off his inflamed skin. He bucked hard against my thighs, and I scraped my fingernails against his sensitive bottom.

Then I tangled my hand in his hair, and pulled. He came up easily off my lap, and I pushed him down onto his back on the bed. He was breathing hard as I kissed him, trailing my lips and tongue and teeth down his chest and belly. He groaned aloud as I reached his taut, aching cock.

I closed my lips around him, sliding his cock inside me, tasting him deep in my throat. Even a naughty boy deserves a reward sometimes.

The End

Story - A Shoplifter Caned

Another of my favorite writers from way back is Mike from London and the story spot features one of his stories todat.  He mainly writes school scene spanking stories that fit in with the role play post of a few days ago, however he write the occasional adult based story to. If you would like to read some of his other stories they can be found a Laura Spanking Corner by following this link. 

Shoplifter Caned 

I own a small bookshop in Ilford and, as I am generally serving alone in the shop, there is quite a problem with shoplifting. To prevent this I have a system of mirrors so that I can see what is going on in the shop while I am in the backroom. 

About a fortnight ago a young lady about twenty years old came into the shop and started looking at the books. I asked her if she was looking for anything in particular but she said she was just browsing. As she was the only customer and I had to go through some orders I left her looking at the books and went through into the back. After a minute or two I glanced up and was surprised to see her slipping a hardback book into her bag. I came out and asked her if she had found anything she wanted, but she brazenly said she hadn't and started to walk out.

I stepped into her way and grabbed hold of her bag. I said 'Oh no you don't! You haven't paid for that book in there!' 

I opened the bag and took out the book. At first she said that she had brought it with her, but when it was opened it still had my shop's marker inside it. I told her that I was going to telephone the police as I always prosecuted shoplifters.

I was surprised at the response. I had expected the 'couldn't care less' attitude I had come across on most similar occasions but instead she was very distressed and obviously near tears (though I suppose she may have put this on to gain my sympathy).

I told her that what she had done was against the law and that she was a criminal and that the law must take its course. She begged me not to phone the police; she was training to be a solicitor and her parents had spent hundreds of pounds on her to get a degree and pass the Law Society Examinations. If I reported her it would all be wasted as she would not be allowed to qualify as a solicitor if she had just been convicted of shoplifting.

I said that was her fault and she should have thought of that first, but she kept on imploring me. She said that she knew that she had done wrong but that her whole life and future career would be ruined if she had to go to court, and that she would not be able to face her parents.

It was only then that I thought of the obvious. Several years ago when my son, Richard, had been a mischievous schoolboy I had occasionally used a few quick whacks from a regulation school cane on him when he was exceptionally naughty. I was almost sure it was still upstairs. Looking at this girl admitting she had done wrong and begging me not to go to the police reminded me irresistibly of Richard aged twelve begging me not to give him his first ever caning.

I said to the girl, 'Well, you admit that you attempted to steal the book which was a crime, so you must be punished. I will only agree not to go to the police if you agree to take your punishment from me.'

She asked hesitantly what I meant, but I think she guessed by then. I told her that I thought I still had a school punishment cane upstairs and that the choice was hers; so far as I was concerned I would phone the police that minute. She asked what her punishment would be if she agreed.

I said that there were two elements to a caning - pain and humiliation. If anyone deserved a sound caning she did and I would give her nine strokes on her clothed bottom and a final tenth stroke on her bared backside. I knew that this would add greatly to the punishment. Richard had always hated taking his trousers down and presenting his already wealed bottom to receive yet another stroke - and it would obviously be very much more humiliating for a twenty year old girl to have to show her naked caned bottom to a strange man.

When I explained my proposals to the girl she didn't speak for a while and then she started to cry. She said she couldn't make up her mind. She didn't want me to go to the police, but she couldn't stand the idea of taking her clothes off in front of a stranger. I said that my only interest was that she got the punishment that she deserved one way or another. I suggested that she go off and walk around a bit to make her mind up and come back at six o'clock in the evening. I would keep her handbag as a safeguard and I told her that if she wasn't back by then I would telephone the police.

I took a good look at her. She was an very attractive young lady, about twenty as I said, around 5'4" tall and slimly built. She had long, light blonde hair and was wearing a blue cotton top with the words from a Coca-Cola advert written across it. It was quite tight and showed off her breasts very well - she didn't seem to be wearing a bra. She also had on a figure-hugging pair of white trousers and a pair of chunky sandals. I could see that she wasn't wearing pantyhose as her toes were free.

The material in her trousers seemed quite thin and I was quite satisfied that she would really feel the effects of a caning if she decided that way. I told her not to change her clothes in any way or put on pantyhose or another pair of panties if she decided to be punished by me. If she did she would get the entire punishment on the bare.

After she left I checked in the handbag to get some information in the intervals between serving customers. I soon saw that she had been telling the truth about training to be a solicitor and she had an orange card saying Law Society Student's Card. I saw that her name was Michaela Peterson and also noted her address. The shop closed at 5.30 and I went upstairs to find the cane. It didn't take me long and I practised a few experimental whacks and left the cane lying on my bed.

I had suggested 6.00 as both shops next to me would be closed by then and no-one lived above them. Should Michaela elect for a caning there would be nobody to hear if she yelled out during the punishment.

Just before 6.00 the bell rang and I opened the door. Michaela was there with a determined look on her face. She said that she had decided that it would have to be the caning and that she wanted to get it over with as soon as possible. I asked her if she wanted to go to the toilet but she said no. So I led her to my bedroom and then left her for a few minutes, telling her to wait. I did this as I knew that waiting would make the punishment worse. When I came back Michaela was holding the cane, obviously trying to imagine what its effect on her bottom would be. At last it was time for me to show her.

I told her to stand by the bed, about two feet away, and bend down, placing her hands on the bed. The tight white trousers stretched themselves over Michaela's lower curves, displaying her bottom cheeks to perfection. I could see the shape of her panties through the thin material. The broad feminine bottom was a real contrast to young Richard's schoolboy backside in his dark grey trousers! I swung the cane lightly on to her bottom and away again to check that I had enough room for a free swing. Then I said 'Right. This is your last chance - shall I phone the police?'

She said in a choked voice, obviously between gritted teeth: 'No!' So I said that as the idea was that no-one should know what she had done, or that she'd been caned it was up to her not to shout out as otherwise people might come in to ask what was going on. I told her I would give her an extra stroke for each time she cried out loudly. Actually, of course, there was no chance of anyone hearing but Michaela couldn't know that and it would not be a very satisfactory punishment if she yelled and shrieked and struggled at every stroke - after all she had, literally, asked for it.

I kept her waiting for the first stroke and swished the cane in the air a few times so as to take her by surprise, watching that pert bottom flinch expectantly each time. Then I lifted the cane as high as possible and brought it down with all the strength of my right arm, putting all my weight - 12 stone 4 pounds - behind it. It landed exactly half way up the target area and there was a very satisfactory Whack!

Michaela gave a convulsive leap upwards and her hands went to her bottom. She could not restrain a high-pitched note of pain, but cut it off short. I admired her courage as she immediately bent down again ready for the next stroke. I counted 'One!'.

Once again I took my time over the next stroke, relishing the sight of Michaela's delectable rear. Then I whipped the cane down again, landing it slightly lower. It was as hard as the first one but she took it well, apart from some involuntary squirmings. I said 'Two!' and slashed down the next stroke almost simultaneously. It had the desired effect and took her by surprise; she yelled out blue murder. So I didn't count that one and gave her another in as near as possible the same place.

She jumped and I heard the gasp of her sharp intake of breath, but she restrained her yell. So the punishment was one third over so far as the over-trousers caning was concerned. I took stock of the situation. Michaela had begun to cry and she was breathing heavily, her breasts wobbling through her teeshirt, she was still in position but couldn't help moving all the time. Her long fair hair was all over the place and right over her eyes.

I released stroke four which landed just on the lower curves of her buttocks - again her hands went to her trousers and away. The next stroke landed in the same place and Michaela yelled loudly again. So I didn't count that one and whacked another one in, just as hard, in the same place.

Stroke six was an experiment. I aimed it just to the left buttock so that the tip of the cane dug in hard halfway across her trousers. She was by now sobbing continuously, but it did not evoke a yell. The remaining three strokes I aimed low, below the pantie-line. I hit as hard as I could, but although she certainly felt them, as she showed by jerking violently each time the cane collided with her drum- tight trousers, she didn't yell out. I was getting tired.

After the ninth stroke (actually, of course, the eleventh!) had reverberated round the room I stood there watching Michaela's trousered bottom and listening to her whimperings. Although I had counted nine she still remained in position.

I told her to get up and she did - slowly and unsteadily. She put her hands to her trousers, stretching out her long, delicate fingers to cover the whole devastated area and tenderly caress it. When she seemed in command of herself I told her to pull down her trousers.

At first she started to protest and refused, but when I insisted and told her it had been her choice she started to undo them. All resistance was gone. With her back to me she very carefully and slowly began to draw her trousers down. I didn't blame her for being slow about it. It clearly hurt like hell sliding those trousers over her swollen and wealed buttocks. She'd been wearing white panties which were almost transparent and the marks showed clearly through them as her trousers fell to her sandals.

Then I told her to drop the panties too and after a while she did. This was an even more careful operation and she was constantly squealing to herself. When they reached her ankles I told her to bend down again and she did so hesitantly, trying to keep her shaky legs as close together as she could.

I stood for almost a minute looking at the pattern of weals on her arse and then suddenly let loose with the hardest stroke I could muster, aiming it diagonally so as to cross the biggest, most raised weals. This time her yell was frighteningly loud even though I knew no-one could hear. So I said 'That's another one then!' and waited for her to position herself again. when she did so I just tapped her bottom lightly with the cane and said 'Ten!'. She didn't deserve any more, she'd been really brave.

I told her she could stand up now and as she did so I saw some blood seep out from that last punishing stroke - no wonder she'd screamed. I told Michaela to get dressed and said that it might be an idea for her to put her trousers back on without the panties, and this is what she did. I also suggested that she washed her face and tidied her hair and then come downstairs, where I would be waiting.

When she finally reappeared I said that she had taken her punishment well and that so far as I was concerned it was all forgotten. I offered her a cup of tea and suggested she stayed indoors for a while till the worst of the pain went and only then went back to her flat. Otherwise her flat-mates would probably guess more or less what had happened. Surprisingly enough she accepted and I quite enjoyed sitting down to my tea watching her drinking hers, standing up and still crying quietly.

Afterwards we went into the sitting room and I switched on the telly. We watched until after News at Ten and by then she had stopped crying and dried her tears. During the news she made an attempt to sit down. Very carefully she lowered herself onto a chair. But as soon as her trousers made contact with the seat she jumped up again with a stifled 'Owww!'. She hopped from one foot to the other and then turned to me and said with a tight smile 'I don't really feel like sitting down at the moment. I'd rather stand!'

After the news Michaela made up her face and managed to control her expression so that no-one would guess what she had been through. She still walked stiffly, though, and could not help an occasional grimace of pain. She told me that if her flat-mates noticed anything she would tell them that she had banged her leg and bruised it badly. I handed her back her handbag and she put her panties in it. Finally, just before 11.00, she left, and I wished her luck in her profession.

This was the last I saw of Michaela until yesterday when she walked back into my shop again. This time she was wearing a printed summer frock. There were other customers, but when they had been served and had gone she walked over to the counter. I was rather surprised but pleased to see her. I asked her how she was.

She knew what I meant and said that she was still sore and bruised though she rubbed soothing cream in every night. She told me that it still hurt to sit down and that she had had to take two days off work. She said, though, that she knew that she'd deserved it and that she'd come back to say that she was very sorry and would not ever do anything like it again.

I told her that she was a brave girl but that she had probably needed a good spanking. She replied, 'Well, if so, I certainly got one!' and ruefully rubbed her bottom. She told me that she had not worn trousers or jeans all that fortnight as they rubbed so painfully but had worn loose skirts and dresses all the while.

In the end she got out her purse and gave me £4.95. She finally bought the book it had all been about! And then Michaela went out again and I watched her bottom wiggle through her frock and thought about the marks that I alone knew were on it.

So far no-one else has tried to shoplift but I think now that I'll offer anyone I catch the same choice. The cane has probably been a more effective punishment for Michaela than a fine would have been, and she didn't deserve to have her whole career ruined.

Story - The Resort

Stories involving men and women being spanked together seem to be rare and old ones are getting harder to find. The search engine to Google groups was seems to have been crippled years ago and lot of the original websites by spanking authors who use to post in the newsgroups have sadly closed down. I did, however, mange to find this old story by Wintermute for you to enjoy.

The Resort

The resort was set in the redwood trees and medows, with a view of the ocean. The rooms where large and set in small groups in buildings scattered around the grounds.



Like most resorts of this kind, there was a pool and tennis courts, you could get a seaweed facial or a Shiatsu message. But this resort offered services of a more private nature as well. At the customers request, after the whole body message, a spanking would be administered, leaving a glow on the bottom in addition to the muscles. The resort had what they referred to as a "full disciplinary staff". Guests might hear the sound of a paddle being applied to the bare bottom of an exhibitionists, taking a spanking over a spanking horse in the garden, only partly shielded by a hedge. For those with more private tastes, an appointment could be arranged with a staff disciplinarian of the customers choosing and the spanking would be administered in their room.

Cimarron and Debbie had found out about the resort from friends. It was the sort of place that did not advertise. Walking through the garden after checking into their room they saw a woman wearing only a bra and a pair of sheer panties, bent over a spanking bench being paddled.

The next day, in the late afternoon they were walking by the tennis courts. They stopped and watched a tennis game. A man and a woman were playing and another woman was sitting in the raised referee's chair. The man scored a point by hitting the ball into the far corner and the referee called "match point". The man and the woman went to the net, kissed and the referee got down from her chair. She was wearing a pair of spandex bike shorts that showed off the round curve of her bottom and a tee shirt with the resorts name on it. Her hair was in a pony tail, threaded through the back of a baseball cap.

The tennis players moved to the side where the referee stood. Debbie and Cimmeron noticed that there was a spanking bench behind the referee's chair. The woman tennis player drank from a bottle of water and wiped the sweat from her face with a towel. She was wearing a short tennis skirt with a matching top. She put the water bottle and the towel down and bent over a spanking bench. As her male tennis partner watched, the referee fastened the young woman's hands with straps attached to the spanking bench. The referee flipped up the woman's short pleated skirt and removed her tennis panties and the white bikini panties that were underneath. She then fastened the woman's legs to the spanking bench. Positioned this way, the womans bottom was pushed up, her thighs spread exposing lips of her vulva. The young woman's legs and thighs gleamed with sweat from the tennis game that she was about to pay the price for losing.

The referee took a paddle down from where it hung on the back of the chair. She knelt down beside the bound womans head, caressing her hair. The referee she said something to the woman that Debbie and Cimmeron could not hear. The woman nodded her head. The referee stood up and moved behind the woman, and brought the paddle down hard across the womans raised buttocks. She gave a stroke ever few seconds, spanking the bound womans bottom and upper thighs. It looked to Debbie and Cimmeron that the strokes were harder as the spanking progressed, as the woman started crying out with each stroke. The referee spanked the tennis player's bottom and upper thighs until they were crimson.

She hung the paddle back on it's hook and took down a spanking strap. She caressed the womans bottom and said something again. When the woman answered she raised the strap and brought it down hard across the bound woman's buttocks. The referee spanked the woman more slowly this time, her body rocking forward slightly with each stroke. The man stroked his partner's hair while the she was spanked with the strap. It looked like the woman was crying. They counted twenty strokes before the spanking stopped. The womans bottom was a deep crimson and lined with wide welts from the strap. The referee unfastened the woman's arms and legs, speaking to her softly as her partner caressed her. The woman got up from the spanking bench, rubbed her bottom and and wiped away some tears. She winced slightly as she dressed, putting her white bikini panties and tennis panties back on. The couple got their rackets, towels and water bottles and left the court with the referee. The crimson blush on the woman's upper thighs could be seen under her tennis skirt as she walked away.

The next day they returned to the tennis courts to watch another game, between another man and a woman. A different woman was refereeing this game. The woman player was very good and this time the man lost. After the match he bent over the spanking bench to take his punishment. His partner removed his shorts and bikini briefs while the referee fastened his arms to the bench. The woman tennis player then fastened his legs to the bench. She bent over and wispered in his ear while she caressed him between the legs. The referee waited behind them, holding a rattan cane. When the woman moved out of the way, the referee raised the cane and brought it down hard across the man's ass. The cane left a dark red welt against his the pale skin of his lean muscled buttocks. She caned him until his bottom and upper thighs were heavily lined with welts. Then the referee exchanged the cane for a strap, while the woman tennis player caressed her partner between the legs, moving her fingers over his hard cock and his balls. The woman tennis player moved aside to allow the referee to spank her partner with the strap. The strap cracked loudly across his ass and his thighs and he cried out after each stroke.

After watching the tennis court spankings they had very hard, very intense sex. They had both asked for spankings along with their messages, but they both wanted more, the images of woman and the man being punished after losing their tennis matches fresh in their minds. As they were passing the front desk Debbie asked "Why don't we sign up for a spanking session?"

Cimarron agreed and they went to the concierge desk. Debbie told the woman at the desk what they were interested in. "Have you had a spanking session here before?" she asked.

"No", Debbie answered

The concierge gave them a book of photos, with short paragraphs describing the kind of session each disciplinarian specialized in. One of the women was named Julie. The paragraph said that one of Julie's specialties was governess style punishment spankings for "naughty boys and girls". That made them both shiver. "Is Julie available?", Cimarron asked.

The concierge pulled out an appointment book, and turned to a page labeled "Julie". "You're in luck. Julie has a 'bedtime' session available tonight at 9:00. Will that work?"

The looked at each other and both swallowed mentally. "Yes, that would be fine", she answered.

The concierge pulled out three sheets of paper. "I'll need you to fill out these forms. On the first sheet you need to put your names and room number down, I'll fill in Julie's name and the appointment time. The second sheet describes the kind of sessions that are available. You will need to answer the questions on that page. The last page is the concent form for the spanking. You will both need to sign that.

Debbie filled in their names and room numbers and gave the top sheet to the concierge who completed it and wrote their names and the time on Julie's page of the appointment book.

On the second page was printed:
The Resort has an experienced disciplinary staff that is available to provide spanking sessions. Several issues should be understood before signing up for a spanking session.
Spankings are administered on the bare buttocks or over sheer panties, depending on the spanking session. This allows the disciplinarian to properly gauge the effect of the spanking.
Although the sessions are intimate in nature the disciplinary staff does not provide any sexual services.
During the session the customer is expected to explicitly obey all requests from the disciplinarian and address them as Sir or Ma'am. Failure to address the disciplinarian properly during a session or to follow the disciplinarian's requests may result in extra punishment or an end to the session, at the disciplinarian's discression.
Spankings are painful and will result in soreness. Depending on the person and the severity of the spanking selected, there may be marking or brusing.
To help the disciplinarian give you a satisifying session, please indicate a level of severity that most suits you.
  • Moderate
    The spanking will consist of between sixty and eighty strokes given with the hand and a light or medium paddle, leaving the buttocks a deep pink and resulting in short term soreness. Extra punishment strokes will only be assigned after a warning has been given first. The spanking may be taken over sheer panties.
  • Hard The disciplinary session will consist of between eighty and one hundred strokes, given with a paddle, strap and cane. No more than thirty storkes will be administred with the cane. No more than twenty strokes will be administered with the strap. Some extra punishment strokes may be assigned for disobedience or moving out of position. Punishment strokes will be administered with a paddle. The spanking will leave the buttocks red, with some mild brusing or welting. There may be some soreness the next day. The paddling may be taken over sheer panties. Strokes with the cane or strap will be administered on the bare bottom.
  • Severe
    This is a punishment session that will consist of between one hundred twenty and one hundred and fifty strokes, administered with a paddle, strap, bath brush, cane or whip. At least forty strokes will be given with the cane and/or whip and a minimum of twenty strokes will be administred with a heavy punishment strap. Extra punishment strokes will be liberally assigned for any disobedience, clinching of the buttocks while being spanked or failure to maintain position. Punishment strokes will be administered with a cane or whip. The spanking will leave the buttocks and upper thighs lined with welts over a deep crimson blush. Brusing will be visible the next day and sitting will be uncomfortable. The client will take the spanking naked.
If a couple is spanked together, any extra punishment strokes earned by one person for disobedience, clenching or moving out of postion during a spanking will be administered to both.
During a session, the client may request an end to the session, but once a severity level has been selected it cannot be changed.
Cimarron looked at her. "What do you think? Hard or severe?"

Debbie looked down at the paper and then back up. "Severe, I think. What about you."

"Yes, severe"

She checked the box next to "severe" and passed the sheet to the concierge.

"Are you sure that this is what you want?" asked the concierge. "Julie is a beautiful, kind, warm, sweet girl. I think that comes across in her photo. Some people don't think that Julie could administer a severe spanking. From personal experience I can assure you that if you ask for a severe spanking you will get a long hard punishment session."

"Yes", Debbie said, "that's what we want. I'm glad that Julie can be both warm and strict."

"Ok. You're down for 9:00. An hour is scheduled for the session. You need to be ready and wearing only panties. If you change your mind or want to change the severity of the session you can do so anytime before 7:00."

They thanked the concierge and left. Talking to her about the spanking and reading the descriptions made them both very hot, but they did not want to make love until after Julie spanked them.

Waiting was hard, as they both kept thinking about the spanking they had coming. They both wondered more than once whether they really should have signed up for the "hard" session instead of the "severe" session. They both ate lightly that evening, and were back to their room at 8:00.

"Maybe we should get undressed", Debbie said nervously glancing at the clock, which read 8:30. They undressed to the panties, Cimarron wearing only a pair of cotton bikini briefs and Debbie in a pair of sheer string bikini panties. She remembered that she would have been allowed to keep her panties on when she was paddled if they had selected "hard", instead of severe.

Debbie went to the cabinet next to the clothes closet and opened the double doors. Hanging on the doors and in the back of the cabinet were a variety of paddles, canes, whips, spanking straps, a hair brush and a bath brush. She looked at them thinking about how each would feel applied to her bare bottom.

At exactly 9:00 there was a knock on the door. Cimarron opened the door to find the tall dark haired woman from concierge's photo. She was wearing a tan trench coat, closed to her collarbone, her long dark hair cascading over the shoulders of the coat. He moved aside to let her in.

"Are you Debbie and Cimarron?" Julie asked. When they answered yes, Julie said "I always confirm names and room numbers. One of the disciplinarians once gave a severe spanking to the wrong person and did not find out until it was over. I'm Julie and I'll be your disciplinarian this evening."
Julie took off the coat and hung it on a hook near the door. She was wearing a black boned corset, giving her figure an hourglass shape, her breasts pushed up by the top. The corset flaired out above her hips, emphasizing the small black lace string bikini panties she was wearing and the garter belt, holding up a pair of seamed black stockings that ended small feet inserted into black stilletto heels.
Julie sat on the couch, her legs tucked up under her. "You are my last clients for this evening, so I can take a little longer to get to know you" she told them.

At first they were both very nervous, intimidated by this beautiful woman who had come to give them a spanking. Julie started asking them a little about themselves and in a few minutes they were at ease with her. She moved the topic to their experience with spanking, asking if this was part of their relationship, who got spanked and how hard spanking were given.

"Its important that I know a bit about you and your background to help me decide what kind of spanking you need." Julie looked from one of them to the other and said with a bit of sadness in her voice "I'm afraid that you both need to be punished. I'm going to have to give you are very hard spanking."
Julie did seem like a very nice sweet, even gentle girl and it occured to Cimarron that Julie really might be sad that it would be her job to punish them. A spanking is supposed to hurt and they had asked for a severe spanking.

"I'm going to have to punish you, but I have some leeway in deciding the severity of your punishment. I'm going to have to give you between one hundred-twenty and one hundred-fifty strokes. Forty with the cane or whip and twenty with the heavy punishment strap. That leaves sixty to ninety strokes, plus any punishment strokes, at my discression. You are being punished, so the final decision is up to me, but I would like to get your input.

I think that you both need a spanking that leans toward the severe side, so I think that one hundred-forty strokes would be appropriate. You will get a warm-up paddling of forty strokes over my lap. Then I'll bend you both over the end of the bed and give you twenty storkes with the cane, followed by a thirty stroke whipping with ten strokes across the thighs. After you take the whipping I'll give you the required twenty strokes with the heavy spanking strap. I'll finish your punishment back over my lap with thirty strokes with the bath brush, the last ten given extra hard.

I have to give you most of this spanking, but I can leave out the whipping and add strokes with the cane and the bath brush if the spanking is too severe.

"No, Ma'am" Debbie said. "I don't think that the punishment is too severe"

"Young man?", Julie asked.

"No, Ma'am. It's not too severe"

"In that case, I think that its time to give you a spanking." She turned to Debbie. "Do you need to go to the bathroom first, honey?"

"No, Ma'am"

"Come with me", Julie said as she walked into the bedroom. They followed her, Cimarron looking at Julie's bottom as she walked, her buttocks moving under the sheer lace of her panties. Julie went to the cabinet of spanking implements, took down a ruler paddle, went to the bed and sat down on the end. "I'll start with you

Debbie. Please take off your panties and lie across my lap".

Debbie pulled her panties down to her thighs, letting them slip down to her ankles and stepped out of them, leaving her naked when she lay across Julie's lap.

"I'm going to start with twenty strokes across your bottom and then we'll give Cimarron his turn under the paddle."

Cimarron stood to Julie's right side, watching as she paddled Debbie with the thin paddle, bringing the paddle down across Debbies buttocks every few seconds. Debbies legs were slightly spread, giving him a view of her pussy between her thighs. When it was his turn to take his panties off and like naked over Julie's lap, he had a very stiff erection. Julie ignored it as she settled him over her right thigh.

The pain of the first stroke of the paddle was a bit of a shock and soon the smacks of the paddle across his bare buttocks took his mind off his erection which was pressing against Julie's bare thigh.

"You can get up now, honey", Julie told him. He got up and Debbie returned to Julie's lap to finish her paddling. Julie was spanking harder now and soon each stroke was eliciting a faint "ow" from Debbie. Her bottom was blushed a deep pink when it was Debbies turn to watch as Julie's paddle redden Cimarron's bottom.

After Julie finished paddling Cimarron's and he had gotten up from her lap, she put the ruler paddle back in the spanking implement cabinet and took out a rattan cane. The cane was about three feet long and 3/8 inch in thickness.

Julie held one end of the cane in each hand, across her upper thighs. "I want you both side by side over the end of the bed. Please move move those two ottomans to the end of the bed." Julie told them. "Then put two pillows on the end of the bed, kneel on the ottoman and lie over the end of the bed, with the pillows under your hips."

Julie stood watching them as they moved the pillows and the ottoman. When they were both bent over the end of the bed, Debbie on the left and Cimmeron on the right, their bottoms pushed up by the pillow she told them "I'm going to cane you now." She moved to Debbie, patting her right thigh "I want you to spread you legs a bit, honey. Good girl." Bent over the end of the bed in such a submissive position Debbie felt very exposed, her thighs spread showing her pussy, her bottom pushed up, presented, waiting for the first stroke of cane.

"You asked for a punishment session. The paddling I just gave you was a warm up. Your punishment is going to start with twenty strokes of the cane. I'm going to cane you hard and it is going to hurt. You both need to stay in position, with your bottoms up and your buttocks relaxed. If there is any squirming or clenching of your buttocks after a stroke, I'll have to give you both two extra punishment strokes."
Julie tapped the cane lightly across their buttocks "Bottoms up", she told them. Debbie raised her bottom a little higher. She heard the whistle of the cane and felt the first stroke burn across her bottom. Debbie's buttocks quivered a bit, but she stayed in position and did not clench.

A few seconds later Julie administered another stroke across Cimmeron's bottom. She alternated strokes between then, drawing the cane behind her and whipping it forward fast and hard every few seconds. Each stroke left a red welt across buttocks that were already reddened from the paddling. Soon each stroke was followed by a cry of pain.

After giving them each ten strokes with the cane, Julie let them catch their breath for a couple of minutes, before administering the last set of ten strokes. The curve of their buttocks where lined with ten welts. When she started caning them again she gave the strokes lower, across the lower part of the cheeks and the upper thighs. Cimmeron was the first to squirm and clench after she gave him a hard stroke across the upper thighs.
Julie caressed his bottom. "I know that it hurts honey, but you need to stay still. I'm going to have to add two extra punishment strokes". Debbie began to cry as the caning continued and both of them clenched and squirmed under the painful cane strokes.

"I'm going to have to punish you both for not staying still during your spanking" she told them after she finished giving them the last ten strokes. "I want to see those bottoms raised while you wait for your punishment."

Julie returned the rattan cane to the spanking implement cabinet and took out a black carbon fibre cane. Julie used this cane to administer extra punishment strokes because strokes from this cane hurt more than those from the rattan cane. When she moved back to the couple she was happy to see their bottoms raised as she had ordered. Julie thought that Debbie looked lovely, her welted bottom pushed up, her thighs spread exposing her pussy.

Julie caressed the welts on Debbies bottom. "I'm going to give you each eight strokes with the punishment cane. This time I will not give you extra punishment for squirming or clenching, but I do expect you to stay in position and take your spanking." Julie drew the cane back and brought it down hard across Cimmeron's upraised ass. Julie quickly followed with a stroke across Debbie's bottom. She gave the strokes fast and hard and Debbie was crying when the spanking was over.

Julie went back to the cabinet and exchanged the black cane for a spanking whip. The whip looked like a riding crop, but where a riding crop would have a flat leather slapper, the spanking whip tappered down from the handle into a rod-like end. She returned to the end of the bed, where Debbie and Cimmeron waited for their spanking to continue. Their buttocks and upper thighs where crimson and lined with darker red welts, which on Debbies bottom where shading toward purple. Julie caressed Debbie's bottom and thighs. The skin was hot. "Do you want to continue, honey" she asked.

"Yes, Ma'am", Debbie answered. "I've been a naughty girl and I need to be punished."

"Well then, I'm going to have to give you both a whipping", she told them. Even though they had asked for the spanking and they could stop it if they wanted, Julie always felt some reluctance to inflict the pain called for in a severe spanking. But she reminded herself that it was what they needed and it was her job to whip the soundly.

"You will get thirty strokes with the whip, ten across the bottom, followed by ten across the thighs and finally ten on the bottom. The whipping is going to hurt, so I hope that you will remember the lesson with the punishment cane and resist squirming and clenching so I don't have to give you extra punishment strokes."
Julie began whipping them. The whip hurt as much as the cane, but with a deeper more penitrating stroke. Julie was pleased that they both stayed still, although the both cried out after each stroke.

Julie caressed their inner thighs with the tip of the whip. "Put your legs together so I can whip you across the thighs" she told them after giving them the first ten strokes. The whip strokes across their thighs burned like hot metal and they both cried out as Julie slowly whipped them. The pain made the whipping seem to last a long time. When it was finally over, she told them to spread their thighs again and she whipped them across the buttcks.

After Julie finished whipping them, she sat down on the bed between them. She rubbed their backs and caressed their bottoms and thighs. Debbie was crying, but stopped under Julie's caresses. "You both took your whipping very well. I know that it hurt a lot and it was hard to stay still." Julie spent a few minutes rubbing their backs, feeling them relax under her touch. If she had to cause pain it was nice to give comfort too.

"Your spanking is almost over" she told them. "I have to give you twenty strokes with the punishment strap. Then I'll take you each over my knee and finish your spanking with the bath brush. Can you take that for me?"

After they had both answered "Yes, Ma'am" Julie got up and put the whip back in the cabinet and got the strap. It was about two feet long, with a wood handle attached to a heavy leather blade.

"Lets get those bottoms up" Julie ordered. Cimmeron heard the strap crack loudly across across Debbie's upraised ass, followed by her cry. A few seconds later he felt the strap burn across his buttocks. The heavy punishment strap had a penitrating stroke which rocked them forward slightly as they where spanked across the ass or their thighs. They were both very sore from the caning and the whipping Julie had given them and they barely managed to stay still, with their bottoms raised, as Julie punished them with the strap.
After she finished strapping them, let the catch their breath for a few minutes. They both lay limp over the end of the bed as she put the strap back and got the bath brush.

"You can get up now", she told them. Julie sat on the edge of the bed, in the middle. "Cimmeron, honey, please come over here. I'll take you over my knee first."

Cimmeron went over to Julie's right side. She patted her lap, "Almost over honey, you just need to take a paddling over my knee and it will be all over." He lay across her lap. Debbie watched as Julie spanked Cimmeron with the brush, alternating cheeks. When Julie had given him twenty strokes on each side, she stopped for a few minutes and let him rest. "The last ten are going to be extra hard, honey. I want you to take your punishment for me and then it will all be over." Julie spanked him slowly and very hard as Debbie watched, knowing that she would soon replace Cimmeron over Julie lap.

"You can get up, honey", Julie told Cimmeron. Without being told, Debbie lay over Julie's lap to take her spanking. It brought back memories of being a girl getting spanked on the bare bottom over her mothers lap with the heavy ebony hairbrush her mother kept on her dresser. The paddling Julie gave her with the brush hurt exquisitely and soon she was crying like a she had when she was a girl. As Julie gave her the last ten strokes on each cheek, very hard and slow, memory fused with the present. She was a girl again, with her panties aroudn her knees and her dress pushed up. As she cried while Julie spanked her, she promised her mommy that she would be a good girl. When the spanking was over Julie held Debbie in her arms, stroking her hair, telling her she was a good girl, until she stopped crying.

"You can put you panties on" Julie told them, as she handed Debbie her panties which were lying on the bed. Julie hugged them both and told them that she was every proud of them for taking such a hard spanking.

"It has been a pleasure and an honor to be your disciplinarian and I would be happy to spank you both again if you want another session." Julie put her trench coat on, buttoning it to the neck, slipped into her spike heels and left.

As Cimmeron kissed Debbie he cupped her bottom in his hands. Her bottom was hot through the sheer material of her panties. He slipped his hand down the front of her panties, caressing her pussy, which was very wet.

"Will you do something for me, my love?" Debbie asked.

"Yes, of course"

"I want you to pile the pillows in the middle of the bed and lie face down over them."
As he did as she asked, she got a pair of sheepskin cuffs from the cabinet.

"Hold out your hands" Debbie ordered as she attached the cuffs. She clipped the rope from the cuffs to the head board. She got two more cuffs and removed his panties, attaching the cuffs to his ankles and clipping them to the sides of the bed. His bottom was pushed up by the pillows, his legs spread. He was totally helpless and she could do to with him what she wanted.

Debbie went to her bag and removed a silicone dildo, a condom, a dildo harness and a tube of lube. She put the condom on the dildo, put the dildo through a hole in the harness and slipped the harness on. The welts on her thighs hurt as she tightened the harness straps so that the dildo was held firmly, pushing out from her mons.

Debbie got a paddle from the cabinet and went to where Cimmeron lay and knelt between high spread legs. She caressed his bottom. His buttocks and thighs were still red and hot from the spankinig. She ran her fingers over the raised welts left by the cane, whip and strap. "Does you bottom hurt, my love".

"Yes", he said, raising his bottom in response to her caress.

"Spankings are supposed to hurt", she reminded him. "But your punishment is not over. I'm going to finish punishing you by raping you with the dildo. I want you to be a good boy and take a good hard fucking. If I get any resistance, I'm going to have to spank you."

She put some lube on her right index finger and spread his buttocks with her left hand. He was helpless to move away from her probing finger, but he tightened as she pushed her finger inside him.
"Naughty boy!", she told him.

She picked up the paddle and started spanking him, alternating cheeks. His bottom was very sore from the spanking Julie had given him and each smack with the paddle elicited an "ow". When Debbie had given him ten strokes on each cheek, she put the paddle down. "Have you learned your lesson, naughty boy? Are you going to take your fucking like a good boy?"

"Yes, Ma'am" he answered.

She put lube on her finger again and spread his cheeks. This time when she pushed her finger into his anus there was no resistance. She put more lube on the dildo and guided the tip to his lubricated anus. Spreading his buttocks open with the fingers of each hand, she pushed the dildo inside him. She moved on top of him, supporting herself on her arms, pushing the dildo deeper inside him with her hips. When she pushed the dildo all the way inside him, she could feel his bottom, hot against her loins. Debbie started fucking him, using shallow strokes, pushing hard against his sore bottom. The dildo felt good as it pushed aganst her mons. She loved punishing him with the dildo, fucking him and the feeling his hot freshly spanking ass beneath her.
As she fucked him she wispered in his ear "Are you my boy?" "Yes, Ma'am" "Raise your ass and take it for me." He raised his hips as much as the cuffs allowed, taking the dildo a little deeper. "You like being raped up the ass, don't you nasty boy?" "Oh, Yes Ma'am"

After fucking him for about five minutes she slowly withdrew the dildo and took it out of the harness. She unbuckled the cuffs on Cimmeron's hands and ankles. He got up and she moved the cuffs out of the way and replaced him over the pillows, leaving the lub beside her. She reached back, cupping a buttock in each hand and spread her cheeks, pushing her bottom up. Cimmeron used his index finger to put lube in her anus and then put more more lube on his cock. He started fucking her ass, moving just the tip of his cock in and out, then gradually moving deeper. She moved her right hand to her clit and fingered herself as he fucked her. She started to move against him, pushing him deeper and he started to fuck her harder. He also loved the feel of her hot punished ass as he fucked her. She came first and he came a few seconds later.

When they went to breadfast the next morning they found that the concierge had informed the breakfast staff that they would have two sore bottomed guests and their chairs had thick pillows on them.