« Spanking Stories

"Good afternoon, ma'am," Amy said, shaking Alice's hand.

"Oh, please!" Alice said. "I can't become ma'am until I'm at least eighty. I'm Alice, this is Harry."

Amy grinned. "Amy," she said. "I'm the chief stewardess and responsible for your happiness, Alice."

Amy admired her team as they slipped into greeting the guests by first name. They were top-flight stewardesses. She'd discovered such an experienced team needed little management.

Alice liked Amy. The younger girl and her team had performed a seamless switch of gears and begun addressing them all by first names. It boded well for the week ahead.

Harry said, "I'm looking forward to a peanut butter and cucumber sandwich."

Alice smiled. Her man had eaten everything on the plane and was still hungry.

"I'll take care of that," Amy said.

In the corner of her eye, she got a gentle nod from Valerie, confirming Harry's peanut butter and cucumber sandwiches would arrive in his stateroom before he did. She noticed Valerie fall away from the greeting line and whisper to herself, the bone microphone inside her subtle earpiece carrying Harry's desire to the galley.

Amy took Alice and Harry on the long route to the owner's deck, showing them key areas of the yacht on the way, and passing on the warning about the effects of alcohol in high latitudes.

"Oh. I'm going to love you, Amy," Harry exclaimed, walking across the expansive owner's stateroom to the table in front of the windows. He'd spied the array of peanut butter and cucumber sandwiches, edges cut off, and chilled Fiji water in an ice bucket worthy of champagne.

"We're at you service, Harry," she said. "Please, ask for anything."

Amy got a drink of water in the crew mess and sat for a moment, still in her formal uniform. The three silver stripes on her shoulders denoted her senior rank. Apart from the extra stripe, her uniform was the same as always. Black miniskirt, tight white blouse, black pumps, white bikini panties and bra. The crew manual stipulated white underwear for females. She was used to it. Crouching in a short miniskirt could offer an unintended glimpse of panty, so smart white was professional.

She wore white most of the time beneath her crew skirt, too. Reaching into a cupboard or crouching in front of a washing machine, she still preferred to be in smart white underwear, if it were to show.

She'd got off to a good start. Alice and Harry were delightful, and her confidence in her interior team was high.

When a newspaper had revealed Alice's actual identity, she'd had her head stuck in her phone like most of the world gripped by the unfolding drama on Alice's own front lawn. Alice's real last name wasn't North, which was why she hadn't recognized it on the profile sheet. But to her, and hundreds of millions of Modern Girls, she would be the heroine who had faced down the world's press on her own front lawn and declared, "I'm Alice North."

It was her strict duty to respect Alice's privacy. She didn't think the crew had worked it out. Maybe they hadn't read Blazing Trails. She'd love to talk to Alice about it, but that could never happen. She was a professional.

Amy stood on the foredeck in her Canada Goose Arctic Jacket, a smile all over her face. The fur-lined hood wrapped her in safety. The freezing, clean air in her nose was still a novelty. She could only remain outside for short periods, but the natural light radiated into her core and inspired her zest for life.

From the aft deck, Alice stared at the polar bear roaming along the top of the iceberg which towered above the yacht. Yesterday they'd floated beside hundreds of seals in one of the yacht's tenders. The sheer magnificence of the landscape was beyond words. It had stopped her thinking about her future. She was in the moment. It would never come again, so she was lapping it up. Gigantic whales had swum with the yacht like dolphins. It was like sliding through her own private nature film with surround sound, genuine air in her nose and true natural light in her soul.

They'd all climbed onto their own iceberg, big enough to walk around and small enough to own. Their friends were as immersed as they were while food and drink appeared with no effort alongside nature and silence.

Harry and the other guys had just returned from jet-skiing between icebergs, the yacht's drone checking the path ahead of them and feeding the data to their guide.

She watched as another polar bear laid down in the sunshine on one of the few rocky areas, its head settling exhausted on its paw. Soon, she must settle too. She couldn't remain restless forever.

Warm again in the main lounge, Alice was alone, watching the landscape. The others were enjoying the complex job of navigating the ice flows. Five hundred miles from the North Pole, they'd just climbed onto the ice surrounding the yacht. She'd run further and faster than everyone else to stand as far north as she would ever stand.

She'd got drunk last night, maybe the high latitude had made it worse, but she'd woken up this morning with a headache. Harry had confirmed she'd been very drunk at the end of the evening. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Amy enter the lounge. She'd recognized the subtle looks from the Chief Stewardess. She knew those looks well by now. Turning from the window, she said, "Do you know what I do?"

"Yes. I recognized you," Amy replied. Looking around to check they were alone, she said, "I was a Modern Girl, before you gave it a name."

Alice smiled. "I thought so. You give me that look sometimes. Lots of girls do. I've got very used to it."

"Sorry," Amy said, worried she'd made her primary guest uncomfortable.

"Don't be silly. It's fine. Can I ask you about your own story?" Alice asked.

"I'd like that very much," Amy said. She couldn't believe she was having this actual conversation.

"Let's go to my room," Alice suggested. She had a vague vision of her future and an inkling Amy was the start of it.

Amy confessed to being paddled hard on a thin dress in college for a dress code violation and articulated the potent emotions being given official discipline had evoked in her.

For Alice's benefit, she brought her life story forward to meeting Dan on board super yacht Serena, which took more than a little telling, including explaining Vista was not her permanent home.

Amy explained why she'd received the cane and why she'd got a belting. She expressed the hurt and the need in her own words, even telling Alice about her close friendship with Christina and their trip to see Christina's old headmaster.

She ended by telling Alice how even her panties were subject to the rules when she wore her formal uniform.

Alice liked that. Such strict personal obedience thrilled her. She looked at the professional stewardess, and said, "I have a problem. It's pathetic, but real. I have nothing to do. I can spend money for the rest of my life, but I need a reason to get up every day. A purpose. I don't know how to be idle or rich."

Amy nodded. It wasn't a problem she was familiar with.

"I get tons of emails from girls every day. Some of their stories would make fabulous books, maybe even better than Blazing Trails. But it's an enormous step to engage with someone I don't know and discuss their deepest feelings. I've been having this conversation with myself for months. I'd like to write your story because I can talk to you. There would be no names, nothing identifying. Would you let me?"

"Is it that interesting?" Amy asked.

"Getting punished while living close to your co-workers makes it fascinating," Alice grinned.

"It's a challenge, and it enhances the pleasure," Amy returned the knowing grin.

Alice relaxed. She had a project packed with passion. Someone else's passion, but Amy wouldn't flake on her. It took strength to open up like she had.

"I want to plan it right away," she said, thrilled to be on a mission at last.

"How can I help?" Amy said, giving her consent.

"I'd like to try on a formal uniform and feel the strict obedience you mentioned."

Amy returned to Alice's stateroom, her arms full of uniforms in laundry covers to hide what she was carrying.

"Shall I change in the bathroom?" Alice asked.

Amy laughed. "We've discussed my intimate sex life, a pair of panties is the least of our worries."

Alice smiled. It had been a test. She'd wanted to be sure Amy could handle her next request. Amy had described being caned in front of her friend. Harry had never punished her in front of anyone. To write about it, she needed to feel the embarrassment and humiliation, both during it and afterwards when she must face the other girl again, knowing she'd witnessed her shame.

"I've brought my uniform as well," Amy said. "It will make your experience more authentic."

They changed in front of each other, sharing occasional glances, enjoying their shared secret.

Standing in full uniform in front of the Chief Stewardess, Alice said, "Give me an inspection." She'd loved this bit of Amy's story. The strict rules extended all the way to her underwear. As her plan had formed, she'd changed into plain white cotton bikini panties while Amy had been fetching the uniforms.

Amy walked around the very new stewardess, checking the tucking of her blouse, the straightness of her skirt and the alignment of her epaulettes.

Returning to face her again, she said, "Lower your skirt."

A frisson of forced obedience spiraled down Alice's spine. She must obey and expose herself at the command of her boss. With quivering hands, she unzipped her skirt and lowered it a few inches as Amy had described to reveal her crisp white cotton bikini panties.

Amy walked all the way around the stewardess, to make sure she wasn't wearing a string, and said, "You've passed. Get dressed."

"That was awesome," Alice gushed, zipping up her black uniform miniskirt. "You were so strict."

"I love the formality of having my panties checked," Amy confessed with a smile. "I checked all the girls before you arrived and even lowered my skirt for an inspection by the most senior girl. They appreciated the show of respect."

"Could I take this uniform home? It will put me in the right frame of mind to write."

"Sure. I'll sort it," Amy promised.

Alice sat opposite Amy in the armchairs, watching the world through the panoramic windows. She crossed her legs, allowing her uniform miniskirt to rise. The short skirt felt sexy and obedient.

"Are you allowed to drink?" she asked.

"Never when guests are aboard. The captain would fire anyone who did."

"I got more drunk than I'd have liked, last night," Alice said. "The high latitude affected me. You warned us about it, but I didn't pay enough attention. It was irresponsible and I'm going to ask Harry to cane me. If I was in this uniform for real, I'd have lost my job. I want to bend over for a formal caning in my formal uniform. There's no doubt I deserve it."

"You'll feel better at dinner tonight," Amy said.

Alice smiled. It was a fresh feeling to be understood by another girl. "Would you stay? I've never had to take my punishment in front of someone. To write about it, I need to go through the embarrassment and shame. The authenticity of Blazing Trails made it great, and the pressure to write another bestseller is enormous."

"Are you sure?" Amy asked.

"It was your polite advice I disregarded," Alice said. "It's fitting I should have to take my caning in front of you."

Amy understood the need to be punished once you knew it was due. "I can get Harry for you," she offered.

Alice nodded.

Amy squeezed the radio clipped to her waist and tilted her head out of habit. "All crew, Amy. Alice would like Harry to come to the owner's stateroom."

"Amy, Natalie. Copy," poured into her ear a moment later.

"He's on his way," Amy said.

Two beautiful stewardesses greeted Harry in the owner's stateroom, but no girlfriend, until he stared at them both for a moment.

"What are you up to?" he asked, confused and excited by his girl in a smart uniform.

"I have a future," Alice declared, brimming with excitement.

"As a stewardess?" he asked.

"No. Meet Amy, a Modern Girl, before I even created the term."

Amy grinned. Being introduced as a Modern Girl, by Alice, no less, was the highest compliment she could imagine.

"The stories girls tell me in their emails would make wonderful books. I'm going to write the best of them, and admit they're based on a true story, like Blazing Trails. It's difficult to determine from an email which girls will give it their heart and soul, but this afternoon Amy's already given me more than enough material for a book."

"And you're getting the full experience?" he asked, pointing at her uniform.

"Yes. I drank too much last night. Amy warned us. A stewardess would lose her job for any drinking at all. I deserve to be sore at dinner to remind me. Please be strict. I'm dressed to obey."

While she explained why she wanted Amy present, Harry went to the dressing room and brought back their regular cane. A firm man holding a cane brought both girls to order. They stood in unison.

Heat plunged into Amy's sex. She wasn't getting caned, but the vicarious thrill of watching Alice bend and obey was poignant and hot as hell.

"Stand over there, Amy," he commanded, pointing to the side wall.

He turned to his girlfriend. "You should have controlled your drinking last night. You know we're at a high latitude. It's your responsibility. Tonight you'll hurt at dinner. It will remind you to behave."

Contrite and sincere, Alice lowered her head in shame. "I'm sorry."

Amy felt guilty by association. Her sex was molten and desperate to dive her hand into her panties.

"Remove your skirt," he ordered.

It was all Amy could do not to reach for her own zip. Alice stepped out of the black miniskirt and placed it on the bed. Being reduced to her underwear in front of Amy pumped pleasure into her white uniform panties.

"Bend over," he commanded.

Alice placed her arms on the bed, presenting her white cotton panties for the cane. She hoped Amy liked her bum. It was embarrassing to be punished like a young girl in front of the Chief Stewardess, although appropriate. The deep humiliation had her hot and moist.

The rattan rod scorched furious fire across her cheeks. She let the pain flood her brain, conscious of Amy's gaze and wanting to earn the Chief Stewardess's respect.

She was the role model for Modern Girls. He had to be hard on her. She held her arms on the bed, focused on the white sleeves of her uniform blouse as eight more strokes burned harsh punishment into her disobedient bottom. Amy would serve her tonight, knowing Harry had beaten her. The humiliation enriched her pain.

He gave her the last three in a tight band, building the pain right where she'd sit, baking harsh hurt into her soft skin in a burning band which would still hurt in front of their friends.

"Stand up," he commanded.

She turned and held her arms by her sides. "Thank you for my caning. I deserved it."

She turned to Amy and said, "Thank you for watching. I'm ashamed I needed punishment."

"You took it well," Amy said. It was obvious the experience had been deep for Alice.

"Get dressed," Harry ordered, taking command again.

Alice stepped back into the tight black miniskirt, wincing as it pulled tight over her sore bottom, and sat back in the armchair again, enduring her pain with grace, while they discussed how they might work together.

Amy got her set up on the Signal app for encrypted messaging.

"I'll send you stuff to read, as I get under way," Alice said. "Be ruthless and critical. It has to be perfect."

As they stood, Alice pulled Amy in and hugged her. "Thank you for giving me a future."