« Spanking Stories

"Wipe that smile off your face," Harry said to Alice.

Desperate to escape his criticism, she'd tilted her head, pressed her index finger to the side of her mouth and struck a coquettish smile. Adding 'You know you love me.' had been the ultimate stupidity.

"I'd love you more if you took responsibility for your ignorance, instead of taking it out on me for three miserable days. I told you the police would be in that exact spot. You chose not to listen." His tagliatelle finished, he scrapped back his chair and left the room.

Since Sunday, she'd been sulking with him, blaming him for her mistake. She'd thought she ought to ask where the police speed checks would be, but had brushed her hair in the hall mirror rather than pay attention to his answer.

She'd bought a brand new Mazda MX5 convertible after her promotion to Financial Administrator last month. Her previous car, inherited from him, had been too old, too big and too gray. She'd sped the cute, red two-seater around the fast curve on the avenue where he'd warned her the police speed check would be, and had got a ticket.

In her two years at Block Building Supplies, she'd become a slick negotiator, evaluating creditworthiness and negotiating payment terms with their biggest customers. But she'd approached this situation the wrong way. The lie she'd constructed for herself had come apart over dinner. She'd been foolish to imagine she could keep him at bay forever. Blaming him for her mistake had been nonsensical.

In the spare room he sat at the desk and opened his laptop, pleased to have discovered the cause of the problem. He'd been sure it wasn't anything he'd done.

They'd met at a summer camp he was leading. She'd been an eighteen-year-old instructor, precocious, beautiful and dangerous. A few years older than her, he'd avoided danger until after the camp, waiting a whole two weeks before calling and asking her to dinner.

In the years they'd lived together, she'd only built up a major sulk with him a few times. But this was as unjustified as it could get. She could stew until she figured out how to be honest with herself and him. Far from abating, his anger with her increased as he replayed their conversation from Sunday morning. He hadn't proffered advice, she'd asked for it.

She cleared up, stacked the dishwasher and sat back at the empty table. Her guilt had spewed out all over the table and ended dinner on a sour note. A large fine was on its way in the post. The name on the envelope would be hers, not his. The points were an embarrassment on her spotless license, and it had been her foot on the pedal.

She would receive her official punishments in the next few days. She deserved them. There was no need to speed along that fast curve. It had been pure thrill seeking. There were open roads for fun, she'd only been going to yoga.

She sighed, put her elbows on the table and her head in her hands. The police published where they would be on their website. She'd thought she ought to ask about speed checks, but brushing her hair in the hall mirror, she hadn't bothered to listen to his reply. Ignorance was too kind. It had been pure contempt. She'd been the one to ask him where the police would be. Blaming him because he'd given her the information she'd asked for was lunacy, but that was what she'd done since Sunday. She'd constructed a narrative in which he was to blame. If he hadn't told her, it would have been an oversight, instead it was her fault, so she'd blamed him.

With the truth laid bare, she couldn't believe she'd pulled that cute girly stunt. No wonder it had made him so angry. He was right to be. Her behavior had been pathetic and disgraceful for a grown-ass woman.

Next day, she arrived home from work determined to regain his respect and trust. He'd messaged in the afternoon to say he'd be working late. A Corporate Investment Manager, it wasn't unusual for him to work late into the night attending to the needs of clients across global markets.

This morning they'd managed polite interaction over breakfast. He was protecting himself from her damaging influence, but she hated how he'd closed himself off.

At their desk in the spare room, she opened the envelope and paid the fine. It hurt. There would be no new clothes for a while. Society had rules. She'd broken them and taken her punishment.

The same thing had happened back at summer camp. Her supervisor, only a few years older, had brought her down to size with a gym shoe applied to her panties in front of the other female staff in the dormitory they'd all shared. Shameful though it had been, the sound spanking in front of her peers had been a fair punishment. She'd put students at risk by not paying attention to her supervisor and respected the older girl for not taking her crap. After her spanking, her fellow instructors had hugged her and welcomed her back into their fold.

The following morning, the camp manager had hauled her in front of him, but her supervisor had supported her, putting the whole matter to rest. Harry didn't know she'd stood in front of him with a spanked bottom under her shorts. She'd never told him what had happened in the dormitory the evening before.

Rules worked. Her relationship with Harry had rules. They weren't in writing, but she'd broken several. She respected him for being harsh with her when she'd tried to escape criticism by making light of the situation. His strict telling off had made her feel small. She loved him and she didn't deserve to get away with her attitude or her cute attempt to wriggle out of it.

It would take courage to ask him to be hard on her. But it would work. She was sure of it. The idea held some appeal. The firm smacks on her backside at summer camp had blown away her guilt. Bending over had taken courage and would again, but it would also convey the depth of her remorse.

She grabbed her laptop, took it to the kitchen table and approached the problem like a credit negotiation. He needed a meaningful apology, and she needed him to punish her. She'd ignored his advice, blamed him for her mistake, treated him like crap because she'd invented a pack of lies in which he was the villain, and then compounded it all by trying to be cute instead of accepting his criticism.

Typing each point on a fresh line, she edited them, numbered them and added one last point - a direct request for him to spank her, hard. It was a measured, proportionate and reasonable request. It would hurt, but not as much as losing his respect already had. She'd right every wrong and put their relationship back on solid ground.

Hope flooded her veins. Leaving her laptop on the table, she grabbed one of the kitchen chairs, carried it into the lounge and placed it in the center of the cream carpet. The hard wooden chair in the soft room felt appropriate. She closed the curtains and faced the side of the chair.

She bent down over the chair seat, imagining his solid thighs under her. Her shoulder length brunette hair veiled her face as she planted her hands on the carpet. Her toes touched the floor behind her, but her tight jeans were uncomfortable and provided a level of protection she didn't deserve.

Rising, she jogged upstairs and swapped her jeans for black yoga leggings. Soft jersey tight on her skin, she returned to the chair. Taking a moment, she imagined him seated there commanding her to bend. Her mind in the right place, she bent over and offered her jersey clad bottom in deep apology for her appalling behavior.

Pushing on the chair seat, she rose, shoved her leggings to her knees and bent back over the wooden seat. Her white cotton bikini panties offered scant protection, but bending in her underwear felt more appropriate. Washed in humility, she held herself still and imagined the pain. If she was right, her man was going to bend her over his knee and give her a sound spanking for each separate offense.

Clambering back onto her feet, she shuffled to the pale blue velvet couch, fell backwards into the soft cushions and slid her hand into her panties. She reminded herself it was punishment, but the thought only inflamed her sex.

Her clit rigid under her finger, she circled herself as she imagined his smacks. The more his spanks hurt, the harder she rubbed. She couldn't escape the deep humility of having to obey him. She moaned as her sex throbbed against the edge, threatening her control. Desperate to feel his hard hand, she imagined his spanks as they tested the limits of her courage. Her gritty resolve held strong against the deserved onslaught. She came hard and fast, writhing on the velvet couch as a slew of orgasms plunged through her sex.

She lay back, drained. Sex had been nonexistent this week. Her fault. Relaxed and recharged, the power of what she was going to do boosted her pride and the thought of being naked in his arms again strengthened her resolve.

At breakfast next morning, she glanced at her neat note, now synced to her phone. Her practice had pumped her with confidence. Putting down her toast, she caught his eye. "Will you be late again tonight?"

"No, early. There's a training session I don't need to attend, so I should be home by 4pm."

"Good," she said. "Can we spend the whole evening together, please? I need to apologize to you and it will not be a quick sorry."

This was the girl he knew. He wanted her to clear the atmosphere between them.

"I'll be all yours," he said.

She closed the note on her phone. There was no turning back.