« Spanking Stories

Hannah dipped her finger in the cream and licked it with lascivious delight. Her team mates egged her on in the hotel kitchen. The master chocolatier, teaching them truffle making, appeared a lot less amused.

The balance of cream and melted chocolate had to be precise for the ganache, from which all truffles were born.

She was told off in a heavy French accent and strict voice. Wearing her white cotton bikini panties under her jeans and apron, her sex went moist at his strict scolding. In her mind, she was being bent over the shiny aluminum kitchen bench for the cane from the master chocolatier.

"What are you grinning at?" one of the other girls asked her.

"I enjoy being told off in a sexy French accent," she whispered. It was the truth.

"I know, he's lovely. He can take me over this bench anytime," her co-worker agreed.

Hannah doubted their uses for the bench were the same, but either would have calmed her raging libido.

As team-building exercises went, making chocolates was miserable. They had to eat everything they made and judge all the other groups. Amongst such dreadful hardship, morale flourished.

Before changing for dinner, she fitted in another quick chapter.

Alice described Harry's feelings about caning her. Her obedience turned them on. He didn't punish her when angry. If she asked for punishment, he'd cane her even if he disagreed. She'd burned his eggs at breakfast. Civilization hadn't ended. Despite his relaxed view, she'd insisted he punish her. Reading the news on her phone, she'd felt dreadful about his burned breakfast.

She had needed to exercise her right to ask for it. They'd agreed he would never refuse a direct request, even if he disagreed. She could rely on him. He treasured and respected the courage it took to ask for punishment.

She'd bent over the dining table in their open-plan kitchen. She'd only been wearing a black cotton string underneath her leggings.

"Bare your bottom," Harry had ordered.

Alice had obeyed. She'd explained that sometimes she needed tough love for something she'd done. The poor breakfast was upsetting her. She wanted to put it behind her and not spoil their day. He had put it behind her with two scorching cane strokes, low on her bare bottom where she'd feel them every time she sat down.

That did it for Hannah. She kicked off her white cotton panties and bent over the little desk, imagining a kitchen table. Bare-bottomed, as Alice had been, she imagined asking for a painful punishment. It sent her into orbit, her fingers doing overtime on her obedient clit. The idea of sharp pain right where she sat drove her over her limit. She brought herself off hard, her legs trembling as pleasure rocked her nakedness.

Lightheaded from the Ruinart champagne at the closing dinner to celebrate the end of their team-building, Hannah hung her black Ghost shift dress back in the wardrobe.

Stuck to the rear of the shelf where she'd found 'Blazing Trails' was another notecard. The book had obscured it before. 'If you love the book, look on top of the wardrobe.'

She wasn't tall enough. She dragged the desk chair across the room and climbed up. Her champagne legs didn't agree with her determined plan, but her heart told her what she was touching before her fingers lifted down the golden rattan cane. Carrying it across the room, she stroked its length, feeling the natural imperfections.

She balanced a pillow on the edge of the bed, drew her finger across it in a line, just as Alice had done to advise Harry the first time. She imagined her naughty bottom in the pillow's place and flicked the cane down along the line she'd prepared. Her perfection thrilled her, so she did it again, this time aiming to punish herself a little lower and blazing the cane across the pillow as the comforting impact resounded around the room.

Despite playing both parts, in her mind Tom had given her two hard strokes of the cane. They'd hurt. She knew because she'd heard them herself. She plunged her hand into her black g-string. Flinging herself onto the bed, she brought herself off fast, imagining the sound caning Tom had delivered.

There was a label on the handle of the cane, 'Take home. Charged as room service.'

She removed the label and put the cane in her case. It was a firm decision. She had the courage to be a Modern Girl. Although she didn't know how she was going to ask Tom, she had a book full of knowledge.

Exchanging her tiny g-string for navy string bikini panties, the comfortable flat elastic of the Victoria's Secret cotton panties felt wonderful and appropriate. They were panties to be punished in.

She admired her bottom in the long mirror. The cut was skimpy. If she got the cane right now, it would cause fair pain. Nobody was going to cane her tonight, but she wanted to feel ready to take her punishment. She opened the book where she'd turned down the corner.

'Maintenance' was the unrevealing chapter title.

Alice didn't want to act out to get punished. She liked the rush of deep obedience and the intense sex. But it was wrong to act out just to get phenomenal sex.

It had been six weeks since her last punishment. She was missing the reminder to behave. She'd brought it up with Harry over dinner. He'd smiled and admitted he'd missed the heavy sex and the subtle honesty of her humble obedience.

He'd asked her a beautiful question, "Do you want it regularly?"

"Yes, to maintain my exemplary behavior," she'd said.

He'd called it 'Maintenance' and declared it should happen on the first Friday of every month, which was three days away.

He'd already booked them for a romantic weekend at the elegant Landon Lodge estate. Hannah gasped. It all made sense. The book in the room. The cane. She read on, eager to understand the significance.

Harry had brought their cane. They'd agreed her maintenance was an honest moment of respect for the rules they lived by. Alice had bent over the hotel bed in her white cotton bikini panties despite having done nothing to deserve it. He'd given her six fiery strokes which had tested her courage. It was harder when there wasn't a specific reason to hold in mind while the cane scorched her cheeks, but in her mind, his command to bend was reason enough.

When she'd taken her reminder to obey, she'd stood and thanked him. She explained it was crucial for her own self-respect, and to show deference to him.

Hannah's hand stretched her blue cotton taut. The thought of obeying Tom, and showing him deference, made her hot as hell. She imagined bending over this bed, in this hotel room, at Tom's command, and thanking him afterwards for caning her.

Alice had been proud of the sex that followed. Her seeing-to had been as hard as her caning. Their togetherness and trust wrapped up her pain, her obedience and their pleasure in a neat package of love. Alice described how Harry had driven her to ecstasy after he'd dominated her. It had blown her mind and delivered a cataclysm of orgasms. Hannah rode right on top of Alice's orgasms. Rocking the bed, she thrust her legs out and twisted herself tight to enjoy every pulse of pleasure in her navy panties, alone on the bed.

Alice's weekend had been soft and wonderful. She'd given the spa a miss and had found the self-denial pleasurable. An honest choice to go without because she had a greater need to be kept in line.

On their last afternoon, Harry had gone for a round of golf with a guy they'd met the previous day. Alice had enjoyed private time in the well-appointed hotel room on the top floor. They provided everything a girl could need, except a cane. Alice revealed it was here, on the day after her first maintenance, that she'd written the first words of her book.

She'd written the opening paragraphs on her phone, lying on the bed, on the top floor of Landon Lodge. Out the window, she'd seen a trail leading into the distance and thought of the trail she was blazing through her own life since embracing discipline.

Above her words, she'd tapped, 'Blazing Trails'.

Hannah put down Blazing Trails and looked around the room. It could have been this room. 'What a magnificent book and a fabulous two nights,' she thought, on the way to the bathroom. It was late. She needed to sleep before driving home tomorrow, but there was one more chapter. She would honor the book and finish it where Alice had conceived it.

Every book had to end, and Hannah intended to give this one with her complete attention. She turned out all the lights except the lamp beside her, slipped under the comforter in only her navy panties to read the last chapter, 'Be Sore'.

Alice told how her painful pleasure lasted for several days after being caned. It hurt, and it should. She wanted to be sore for a while. The private reminder in public made her feel special. Having to see friends or go to dinner soon after a punishment was a salutary lesson. She had to maintain her dignity, despite being sore. Sitting with grace, when her bottom hurt was as much a part of her punishment as the strokes themselves.

Alice mentioned a dinner with her sister and boyfriend. Her attitude had been poor all day. She'd known it and couldn't flick out of her funk. Harry had told her off and delivered four strokes on her bare bottom before she got dressed to go out. She'd accepted and respected his decision, and felt better straight away. A smile on her face, while her bottom burned against the chair in the restaurant, she'd sparkled, her punished state a constant reminder to be her best.

Hannah imagined being caned by Tom for a poor attitude before dinner. She plunged her hand into her panties and pictured herself bent over their bed in her smart underwear, being scorched by the cane. He laid heavy strokes where she would sit, a stiff reminder to behave from her firm man. She came with a vengeance, picturing having to handle her private discipline in public. She rolled, carrying her orgasms with her, and pounded her body against the sheet.

Alice ended her book with a simple summary:

Hannah wanted to be held to account and disciplined by Tom. She wanted to be a Modern Girl and Alice had given her permission, permission to blaze her own trail.