« Spanking Stories

Zoe owned Landon Lodge. It had been in her family for generations. She doubted her parents would recognize the hotel today. It was a destination for events, conferences and weekends away. She'd opened all the wings to increase capacity and added a spa. The wing she'd grown up in now contained more guest rooms, so in the remodeling she'd designed an expansive fourth-floor owner's apartment.

Sat at her desk, looking out over the grounds, she read the hotel management accounts with a smile. Family circumstances had forced her to drop out of her marketing degree course when she was eighteen. The lack of formal learning had left her mind open. Ten years later, her marketing strategies spoke for themselves. Casual stays were up fifteen percent this year, while competitors were struggling. She accredited much of that to Alice North and her book 'Blazing Trails'. The day Alice had asked to see her, armed with her manuscript, had become etched into her memory.

The convincing brunette had left her to read an advance copy of 'Blazing Trails', asking for permission to mention Landon Lodge in her book because she'd written the opening lines on the fourth floor and named it while looking out at a trail blazing its way into the distance across the 270 acre estate.

Looking out at that same trail now, Zoe was proud of her gutsy move to put Alice's book in her hotel rooms, along with a cane. Over one hundred articles had appeared in the press mentioning the hotel's association with the book. Many enamored guests returned to relive their first encounter with 'Blazing Trails'.

Her contribution to the book's global sales was irrelevant, but its contribution to hers was satisfying. No hotel had ever got their name in the biggest bestseller in the world, but Landon Lodge had.

She'd read Blazing Trails in two days. Alice had warned her the contents were racy. Anytime a pair of cute cotton panties had graced her hips, she'd felt beautiful, and plain white ones had always felt innocent. Now, at twenty-eight, Alice's book had brought home to her why she felt this way, and she'd brought herself off hard over every chapter.

With a brief explanation, she'd given it to her husband to read. When Ryan had finished, he'd asked two questions. 'Did you imagine being punished by me?' and 'Did you masturbate while reading it?' Placing a cane he'd bought that day on their bed, he'd demanded honest answers.

At the time his strict tone had made her quiver, now it turned her on every time she replayed it in her mind. She'd denied imagining him with the cane and refused to say if she'd pleasured herself. She remembered the look of deep satisfaction on his face when she wouldn't answer. He'd wanted her to lie. Bent over their bed, each repeat of her lies had brought a fast pair of fierce cane strokes. She'd defied him for as long as she could while her blue and white striped panties had got a good roasting. Each time the pain soared, she'd taken the heat to heart. She'd wanted him to challenge her defiance and refuse to accept it. Her tumultuous pleasure during every chapter of Blazing Trails had embarrassed her. She'd felt like she'd cheated on him. After six painful pairs, she'd confessed.

She'd asked permission to stand. Punished and in pain, she'd stood before her husband in her cotton panties and said, "I'm sorry I lied. I dreamed of you wielding the cane and I played with myself through every chapter."

Two answers to two questions and a new hard-edged sexiness had thrust into their relationship. He'd taken her over their bed and given her a thorough seeing to. It was the best sex they'd ever had, her guilt eradicated by his cane strokes and her mind cleansed.

Her fresh welts on fire, she'd called Alice and given permission for Landon Lodge to appear in 'Blazing Trails'. Alice didn't know she'd just changed Zoe's life, but Zoe knew Alice was going to change the world.

Looking up from the accounts, she gazed over the estate. Alice's article in Cosmopolitan, yesterday, had inspired her. A few minutes ago, she'd given it to Ryan to read.

Sat in the green armchair behind her, he said, "She bent over even though she didn't feel she should. Isn't she amazing?"

"Her utter obedience in the face of doubt turned me on. I want you to be strict with me for a while. Do you remember how Josh made Sam wear only her white panties in 'Clear Lines'?"

They'd read all of Alice's books together.

"I do. Is that what you'd like?"

"Yes, for a month. I'd like the pressure of constant obedience and the ever present guarantee of hard punishment if I disobey. If you catch me in any other panties, whatever my excuse, you must give me a severe hiding."

He stood and stared across their office at her, his face firm. "Zoe, I expect you to wear white cotton bikini panties for the next month, no matter what difficulties it presents you. If you wear incorrect panties, you must report yourself and ask for the cane. If I catch you, I'll cane you on the spot, no matter how embarrassing. What are you wearing now?"

"Navy panties," she said, breathless at being ordered to describe her underwear.

"Change now," he commanded.

She left the room, drenched in delicious pleasure at his strict instruction.

She returned, obedient under her tight jeans. In white cotton panties by order of her husband and under the threat of the cane for the slightest disobedience, her sex was red-hot for him.

"Zoe, I can inspect your panties without warning. Stand here and drop your jeans."

Her sex fired hot rockets throughout her body. Being commanded to show her panties and prove her obedience was rich fodder for her playful imagination. She unsnapped the button on her jeans and pushed them down her slim legs. In her navy blouse, jeans around her knees, her white cotton bikini panties were on display to her husband.

He circled her to check her panties. Humility drenched her as he checked her for compliance. As he returned to stand in front of her, she expected to be told to pull up her jeans again, but he studied her instead.

"When did you last check the guest rooms?"

She checked them most days. She didn't need to. Her management team were excellent. But they knew she checked, so it kept them sharp. She'd been busy preparing for the financial year end.

"Three days ago," she replied.

"It takes less than fifteen minutes to do a few random rooms. Is there any reason I shouldn't cane you for laziness?"

"No. I'm sorry." Her gaze fell to the floor. "I deserve it."

He walked over to the small modern oak conference table, pulled out a dark wood chair and placed it facing the desk and window, far enough back for privacy.

"Bend over," he said, pointing to the positioned chair.

She hobbled, jeans around her knees, to the chair and bent over the back. Her hands gripped the front of the seat, her white cotton panties stretched tight across her perfect peach of a bum. Her blonde wavy bob fell forward, hiding the shame in her eyes.

She was proud of how she looked. Even with her bottom on shameless display, she knew her curves were sensational. They thrilled her in the mirror. It was her behavior which sometimes didn't. He'd proved capable the first time he'd caned her, not accepting her lies to his two questions. These days he was skilled in delivering necessary pain to her behind.

The cane tapped against her fresh white cotton.

"Four sharp strokes to remind you. I know you've been busy, but there's always time to check the guest rooms are perfect."

Pain bit into her bottom and her mind as the cane blitzed her cheeks. The first stroke always shocked her. Somehow she always forgot just how much it hurt to get caned, but there was no escaping the sudden suffering. She imagined herself entering a guest room, running her finger over the hidden surfaces to check for dust. It was her duty as owner. A duty she'd shirked.

The cane burned through her thin panties and pain blossomed in her bottom. As owner, she could never dodge her duties. She held her team to high standards and herself to higher ones. Proper punishment had been a relief when it had entered her life. It was her way of keeping herself in check, as she did others.

The flexible stick scorched a fresh ridge lower. She wouldn't sit in comfort with the accounts. He laid the last mark hard across her disobedient bottom. The burn forced its way deep into her behind and ignited her sex, launching a cascade of comfort as the sexy pleasure of being an obedient, thrashed girl traversed her body.

"It's over," he said.

She released the chair seat and stood up. It always felt virtuous to apologize and thank the man who'd just punished her.

"Thank you for caning me," she said. "I'm sorry I've been lazy. I'll check the guest rooms now with my sore bottom."

"Not until I've had you."

He undid his belt and blue slacks. His tight white underwear showed he loved caning her. Kicking away her jeans from around her ankles, he steered her back to the conference table and lifted her onto it. Unbuttoning her blue blouse, she ran a hand under her fresh matching white bra, eager to tease her straining nipples. He forced aside her obedient panties and filled her sex.

He held her on the table, his warm hands gripping her hips.

"I got caned," she said, her voice unsteady as she pulled off her blouse and bra.

She rubbed her nipples with abandon, the intensity of her punishment consuming her mind. "You ordered me into white panties and made me display them."

"What happens if you're disobedient?"

"I get a severe hiding."

"Even if it has to be at an embarrassing time," he gasped, thrusting his hardness deep inside her.

She took him to the hilt, gripping his erection as he thrust up into her. The conference table was rough on her sore bum, intensifying her lust.

"You punished me for laziness."

"And I'll continue to," he breathed in her ear, while he thrust deep inside her.

She flung her hands back to keep her on the table as she came hard. Furious cascades of pleasure pulsed down her core, her sex in total control of her mind and her nipples abandoned. Her desire drove him over the edge and he came, ramming his hardness deep inside her.

Calmed and refreshed by his firm hand and hard manhood, she jumped down off the table.

"You're a good girl," he said.

"I try to be," she smiled.

He was a kind man, a firm and sexy one too. She'd chosen well all those years ago.

She checked the guest rooms, proud to feel her pain as she bent to check the surfaces for dust. She had the right to demand high standards of everyone, because she demanded them of herself.

The vaguest of notions was forming. It was far from an idea yet. The accounts had spurred it. She'd taken a chance on Alice's book, and the payoff had been enormous. Alice's Cosmopolitan article had reminded her how lucky she was to have a man who punished her. Not everyone had the chance.

Having exchanged her shoes for walking boots, she set out across the hotel grounds to the highest hill on the estate, enjoying her tight jeans. They contained her obedient panties and packed in the heat of her punishment. Both the fresh air and the evidence of her strict obedience thrilled her as she climbed the hill to the old tea room. There was no tea, and these days it wasn't even a room. It was old. Old and in total disrepair. But it had a separate access road.

You could walk, as she had, from the hotel. It was pleasant, and if she built a path, it would be more so. But you could also arrive by car and never have to visit the hotel. For her idea to work, both were crucial.

She sat on the edge of the stone terrace, looking down over the hotel and the acres she owned. She used to come here often after her parents had died. Driving home from a local awards dinner, her dad had lost control of the car. She'd only been eighteen when she'd inherited the estate and hotel. She hoped they'd be proud of the success she'd made of the business and the woman she'd become.

Standing, she strolled around the old tea room. It would cost a small fortune to restore to its former glory. She had the capital. But she didn't want to relive its glory years. She wanted to deliver a whole new kind of service for young women. The only thing she would keep was the name.

When she'd given Ryan 'Blazing Trails' he'd seen straight through her. With his two questions, he'd given her a subtle way to ask for punishment.

In her twenties, she'd got punished for the first time in her life and wished it had been sooner. Without Alice, she may never have unlocked this native desire. She wanted The Old Tea Room to provide reliable punishment to girls in need. It would be firm, kind punishment with lots of strict telling off and goal setting. She wanted to give the rich sense of obedience and goodness to other girls.

Girls could choose to be punished or to be mentored as well. Being given a program to follow from The Old Tea Room would give their lives structure. They would have to report their own disobedience in the certain knowledge they'd receive painful consequences, but consequences were what girls needed. And wanted.

The hotel spa offered massages and spa treatments, but you couldn't book a spanking. The Old Tea Room would operate as a separate business. Guests coming from afar would find the hotel a benefit, but its biggest clientele would be regular customers from the surrounding cities.

There was no shortage of single girls in need of a firm hand. They didn't even have to be single. Sometimes it took another female to listen and understand. Without thinking, she'd decided The Old Tea Room would be for girls only. They were the ones who carried the burdensome weight of guilt around with them. She would hire excellent female disciplinarians. They would need the perfect balance between a firm hand and a kind word. She'd assemble the team herself. Those who passed the initial screening would have a hands-on interview. Her bottom would hurt like hell, but she had to know they could offer kindness and still cane, belt or paddle hard.

It would create a strange dynamic. All her team would have punished her. But it would also instill deep respect. The Old Team Room would provide ultimate service.

She could advertise The Old Tea Room with notecards alongside the books in the rooms. When 'Blazing Trails' sparked interest in a girl, she'd have somewhere to try it out. It turned her on to think about it. She imagined having a stern female mentor tell her off, bend her over and belt her silliness out of her.

Racing back down the hill to find Ryan, she crashed into their apartment brimming with enthusiasm for her idea. She knew it would work. The success of Alice's books proved it.

He was in their kitchen. Looking out over the hotel's vegetable garden, she told him everything, painting her vision with passion as she paced back and forth.

He said, "I have two questions."

She grinned. His last two questions had launched a lifetime of passionate punishment.

"If you don't follow your heart, what should I do?"

"Cane me."

"And if you don't launch the Old Tea Room in six months?"

"I will."