« Spanking Stories

"You said - I'll take care of it," Tom declared.

He faced Hannah, his back to the lounge window, annoyance written all over his face.

Hannah hung her head in shame. "I'm sorry."

He was right. It was indeed what she'd said. Wheeling the trash can to the curbside was a minor job. Taking it to the dump in the car was a massive and unpleasant one.

"I offered to do it myself last night. Now, I wish I'd ignored you and done it, anyway."

"I promised to take care of it, and didn't, I'm in the wrong here. Big time," she said.

Her straightforward admission calmed him. It didn't remove the smelly job of fixing her carelessness. He would never make her do it, but it didn't seem unreasonable.

They both had today off work, her to recover from team-building, him to spend time with her. He'd missed her in bed for two nights. Now he only had a nasty job and a shower in his immediate future.

She admired his tight butt as he came through from the bedroom. He had patches on his jeans; they were so old. They still fit him and went well with the worn out heavy metal tour tee. Her man, dressed to fix her mistake.

Guilt ripped into her. She'd blown out her brain, playing with herself for two nights, come home and fucked up a simple job. Now he had a nasty one to do on their day off, and it was all her fault.

"I'll get lunch ready," she said. It paled into insignificance next to his job, but it was all she could contribute.

"I'll have to shower first, when I get back."

Her screwed-up face showed clear agreement.

He went out the side door and walked down the path beside the garage of their end-unit townhome. It was a quiet cul-de-sac, so nobody noticed him as he took the trash bags out of the can one at a time and put them in the trunk of his blue Audi A5 Sportback on the driveway. At least it was a sunny morning.

On top of an old rug, he got all the bags into the trunk. Putting down the rear seats would have brought the smell right inside the car, so the minor success felt like a triumph.

She cleaned and tidied the house as penance for letting him down. A very different penance occupied her mind as she wiped surfaces and vacuumed.

Two days of team-building at Landon Lodge had exhausted her. When he'd asked about her experience, she'd had plenty of material to give a suitable answer, but her passionate nights had dwarfed her daytime activities. Reading Blazing Trails and her endless masturbating were the real reason for her exhaustion.

She'd intended to ask him to punish her. Maybe not today, but someday. She'd planned to build up to it. But this was a genuine opportunity. She'd accepted responsibility for taking the trash can to the street and it had slipped her tired mind. Exhausted by twin nights of sensual pleasure, it was no surprise, but it was also no excuse. She vacuumed the carpet far too hard, picturing herself bent over the kitchen table, the searing sharp agony of cane strokes being applied with force to her negligent bottom.

She prepared Caesar salad for their lunch. Taking the chicken from the oven, she flicked on the radio for company and to distract her mind. A Garth Brooks song was just ending. The DJ said, "Tomorrow never comes, so put off everything you don't want to do until tomorrow."

She flicked it off again, irritated. It wasn't the right attitude at all. There was no point in putting off her future. She'd resolved to become a modern girl. Fate had only brought the moment forward to today.

The cane was still in her suitcase. She'd intended to store it in the attic, but hadn't got there yet. Maybe fate was giving her a message.

She heard his key in the front door and whispered to herself, "Be strong."

He went straight to the shower.

A crisp, clean hunk returned for lunch with her in black jeans and a black tee.

"How bad is your car?" she asked.

"Not bad at all. I opened all the windows on the way home and the smell didn't linger. No harm done."

She studied him as she placed two plates of caesar salad on the table. He seemed happy now he was clean.

Regular glances at his chest did nothing to ease her fear of how he would react to her request. Studying his black tee provided no answers, and she tasted very little of her salad.

Nervous like she never was with him, she went over her lines in her head. Cleaning had been a therapeutic way to construct the conversation she intended to have. Her planning wasn't at Alice's level. She didn't need it. She had the book to do the explaining for her. But it couldn't open her mouth. That was up to her. She tried hard to focus on their conversation.

"You're distracted," he said.

She only half heard him. His black tee kept her attention. She couldn't look him in the eyes, or open her mouth.

"You're not still worrying about the trash, are you?" he said, "I've forgiven you."

"That's just it. You shouldn't, because I haven't," she blurted.

It wasn't the beginning she'd planned. She was way off script.

"Why not?" he asked.

"I forgot the trash because I was so exhausted, but it wasn't the team-building. I stayed up late both nights reading a book I found. It's changed my life. You're going to need to read it," she said, "perhaps even today."

"What's so urgent?" he asked.

She licked her lips. Her mouth was dry. "I want you to punish me for my thoughtlessness," she said. "I'm serious, I want you to be too."

None of this was coming out as planned.

He studied her serious face, wondering what had happened to her in just two days away.

"What is this book?" he asked.

She went to the bedroom, to her suitcase, and brought back Blazing Trails. It gave her time to calm herself and return to her plan. Arriving back at the kitchen table, she held the burned orange cover tight.

"I'm asking you to give me physical discipline. A punishment for my behavior. I need it and I deserved it," she said.

She handed him the book, and he took it.

"It will make me happy," she said, "and help us both to feel better about my negligence last night."

He studied the book cover, turned it over and read the back.

Her hands now empty, she fidgeted. He lifted his gaze, and she said, "I'd planned to ask you soon, but events have taken over. Please read the opening chapters. You'll want to read it all, but we don't have all day," she smiled for the first time, remembering the pleasure it had brought her.

"OK. You need me to read it right now?" he asked.

"Yes. Please trust me. It's a good read."

"Can I lie on the bed?" he asked.

"Yes. I'll leave you in peace. Come and find me when you've read enough to understand. If you take all day and night, I'll wait for you."

He got up, the book in hand. "I'm not sure about this."

"I know," she said. "Keep one question in mind. Why not?"

Tom didn't know what to expect from the book, but he was smiling in moments. Alice was such a typical girl. Ignoring advice she'd asked for, transferring her blame on to her man for her own mistake, getting annoyed with him for something he'd never done and, to top it all off, trying to get out of her bad behavior with a bit of cuteness.

He could imagine Hannah getting herself into the same sort of mess. His mind put Hannah in Alice's place, giving a detailed apology. He got hard. Her deep contrition was gut wrenching. In his mind, he did a decent job of scolding her and spanking her. Undoing his dark jeans, he rubbed his manhood while she got a sound spanking. He loved the way she obeyed and gave herself over to his command.

He hadn't foreseen how disappointed Alice would be with her spanking, or how fast that would happen. She sure didn't hang about. He could see her point. She had momentum. Harry was onside. She'd been right to move straight on and get a cane.

He was right with her when she got annoyed with herself for taking her first stroke with such a fuss and loved her when she asked to be told off and given a proper caning. He stroked himself as she got her two serious cane strokes, and came hard, grabbing a tissue from Hannah's side of the bed to tidy up.

When Alice said, 'It's good to hurt,' he understood her. He read the next chapter where Alice got a caning in front of her shopping list, but he already understood what Hannah wanted and he could feel why. It was tangible and meaningful. Sharp punishment exploded a girl's guilt and resolved conflict.

He wondered if she'd played with herself while reading the book. Then he realized how stupid the thought was. Of course she had, that was why she was too tired to remember to take the trash out.

He put the book down and thought about his own situation. She could have let him take out the trash last night, but she'd taken responsibility for it. He hadn't made her do it, nor had he made her forget. It had been her fault, fair and square, and he'd had to clear up her mess. She didn't need reminding, she needed caning. He'd forgiven her, but so far she hadn't forgiven herself.

He thought back to the stink in the car. It had been awful in his clean Audi. There should be consequences. He felt able to punish her. She was right. She deserved it, and it would do her good.

He was going to hurt his girlfriend and not in a small way, but it was short-term pain and she wanted to receive it. It was clear from the book it must hurt and be tough to take.

He thought of her downstairs waiting for him and remembered her parting question - 'Why not?'

He had no appropriate answer.

It was a long two hours before he re-appeared. She'd abandoned the kitchen in favor of the couch. All she could think about was his reaction.

He was firm with her most of the time. But could Alice make a man feel the way she'd felt?

Expecting to have the guts to carry out her plan, she'd changed while he was out this morning. Black yoga leggings encased her long, slim legs. Beneath, she wore white cotton bikini panties. They felt innocent, suitable for a girl who must bend over. It had worked for Alice.

Her long legs lay over the plush arm of the white chenille couch, her head on a cushion. She'd read a magazine and flicked through more. The TV was silent. Only her thoughts filled their lounge room, her fear off the charts. She'd thrown her hat in the ring. What would she do if he laughed at her and thought her silly?

She couldn't handle that. He must respect her and be firm with her. She wanted to be a Modern Girl.

He walked into the lounge, carrying Alice's book. She sat up. Her fears surrounded her.

He stood in the middle of the room and said, "I've read the first five chapters."

His face gave nothing away.

"I like Alice," he said, "but..."

Ready to counter his objection, she said, "But what?"

He smiled at her and said, "We need a cane."