« Spanking Stories

« Alison, Sam and Nina


11. Hot Pink

Spanking Story


Knowing the consequences, a personal trainer tests her new boyfriend's boundaries

«Beginning Part 12»

Sam glanced across at the finance wiz running on the treadmill beside her. Her client's figure was as lithe as her brain, without a drop of sweat, as their pre-programmed journey kept them in perfect step. She'd have to design a tougher run for next week.

As she'd extended her stride, her string bikini panties had risen under her soft black shorts. Skimpy and hot-pink, they defied Josh's order to wear white. At bedtime, her disobedience would be unmistakable. She had white cotton and a fresh pair of identical hot-pink panties in her bag in the changing room. She could switch to white panties, but her guilt would nibble away at her conscience if she deceived him.

With a beep, the treadmills leveled out and slowed for the cool-down. She smiled at her client. She planned each routine with immense care, but there was no harm in enjoying it too.

In white boxers, Josh watched from the bed as she undressed. She'd asked him to move in after four days. There was nowhere to run or hide. She was already obeying him.

For ten days, her obedient white cotton panties had felt sweet, young and innocent. She'd delighted in knowing her underwear was compliant as she went about her day. Under her workout shorts, they sometimes showed when she stretched, but her obedience remained discreet. Only Josh, and - of course - Alison, knew he had instructed her to wear white.

On several nights, she'd pointed out her panties to remind him she'd complied. Every time it had resulted in a swift celebration of her obedience. He knew she was teasing him, but he'd resolved to wait her out for as long at it took. A spanking was certain, and a hard one at that. He wouldn't let her get away with deliberate disobedience. He'd make it meaningful for them both.

She hadn't known today was the day until her hand had hovered over her panties this morning while he'd been downstairs. In seconds, she'd completed her disobedience and hidden it beneath black leggings.

His gaze on her as always, her heart pounded as she slipped her fingers into the waistband of her leggings, pushed them down and revealed her hot-pink panties. Leaning against the chest of drawers, she pulled her leggings off.

"Come here, Sam."

Her heart rate rising, she blushed as she obeyed.

All day, delight had teased her sex at the thought of what would happen. He'd been clear. He would punish her. Anxiety had eroded her delight for brief moments as she wondered how much it might hurt, but her sex had drowned out any doubts. She wanted this to happen.

"Why are you wearing bright pink panties?"

She'd wondered herself. During the day, her sub-conscious had admitted responsibility.

"Yesterday I was moody and difficult with you. There was no discernible reason. This morning when I chose my panties, my sub-conscious chose these. I think on some level, I knew I needed to be dealt with."

His tone hard, he said, "I won't tolerate willful disobedience."

Good, he shouldn't. Her mind absorbed his words; she'd been willful and disobedient.

"I will not let this go."

Fear flowed and her nipples hardened. She turned away and went to her dressing table. Her crisp white blouse skirted her waist, advertising her hot-pink panties to the mirror, the same mirror she'd so often bent in front of, to redden her own bottom. She picked up her Aveda wooden paddle brush.

The large brush did a brilliant job of de-tangling her hair and delivered decent discipline. She returned to him and handed it over. "Don't go easy on me."

He looked at the reddish brown wood in his hands. He'd only planned to spank her, but weighing the brush in his hand, he smacked it hard against his palm and understood what she wanted.

The loud crack filled the room and stung her mind. She quivered. It had never, ever, sounded that loud against her bottom. She watched as he got up, took the chair from the dressing table and placed it in the middle of the room facing the window. Grabbing a pillow from the bed, he balanced it across the top of the chair back.

"The pillow will stop the back of the chair digging into your hips. I want you in a comfortable position, you're going to be here for a while."

"Bend over," he pointed to the chair with the hairbrush.

She looked at him and held his gaze with the deepest respect. She'd imagined this moment many times. Not the chair. She hadn't known how he would punish her, but he was more commanding than she'd ever dared hope.

The delay caused him to repeat himself, "Bend. Over."

She stood behind the chair and faced the window. With extreme grace, she bent forward, easing the pillow under her hips as she placed her forearms on the seat and gripped the front edge. Her blouse rode up at the back and presented her disobedient panties stretched tight over her firm cheeks.

"Your attitude yesterday was repellant. When I left the salt and pepper beside the stove, you'd have thought I'd started world war three."

She'd overreacted. It was one moment in a day full of them. She wasn't used to someone else in her space, but she wanted him in her house, in her bed and behind her when she needed it.

"You've brought this on yourself. Take it with respect. It will hurt."

The hairbrush rested against her bright cotton. Its hard promise dripped liquid pleasure into her hot-pink panties.

The room exploded with the sudden impact of wood on cotton. Her right cheek erupted in fierce fire. She gripped the seat edge, determined to honor the pain. He'd outclassed every smack she'd ever given herself. As burn spread into her bottom, she eased her powerful grip.

The hairbrush crashed into her left cheek. Heat blossomed into pain. She fought the sting and resisted its spread, before remembering her decision to let it hurt.

"An obedient girl would wear white panties when told. Are you an obedient girl?"


"What color are your panties?"

"Hot pink."

"What are you?"

"A disobedient girl."

Shame eased the heat in her bottom. She'd disobeyed him. He must thrash her. It was his only choice. She deserved it.

The wood burned everywhere it touched. Hard spanks covered every inch of her disgraceful pink cotton and reddened her bare skin where her panties didn't reach. She gripped the edge of the chair, a little less hard, and let the pain wash over her. Willful and disobedient, she needed it to hurt.

Her man had judged her, found her unworthy, and was bringing her to heel. Respect for him burst, flooding her with satisfaction and sweet, hot pleasure. The pain in her behind built, but she met it with honor and acceptance. She'd let herself down with her attitude yesterday, and her disobedience today.

Her sex accepted her capitulation and rewarded her with kind heat. Lost in reverence at his hard handling, she didn't notice the smacks had stopped.

"You're taking your spanking well. Stand up."

Pushing up from the chair, she faced him, her hands by her sides as her bottom stung.

"Get the correct panties."

She stepped over to her drawer and selected a fresh pair of white cotton bikini panties. Thinner than the others, she fingered the fabric as she returned to face him.

"Look at me. Don't let your gaze leave mine for a single second while you change your panties."

Locking eyes with him, her hands slid into the elastic of her disobedient panties and dismissed them to her ankles. Her eyes never wavering, she kicked them off and stepped into her innocent white panties. Locked under his gaze, she pulled them up. The familiar twang of elastic filled her ears as her obedient panties snapped into place.

"Better?" he asked.

Her smoldering sex appreciated being forced to change under his hard gaze. It was punishing, well-deserved and right.

"Much better," she said. "I'm sorry for my attitude yesterday, and my disobedience today."

"Good. Bend over."

She obeyed, honoring him with her white clothed curves.

"Good girl. Let's complete your lesson."

The hairbrush landed ten solid spanks as she held herself still. Pain soared as he roasted her through her soft cotton, hard on her, right to the end. Tears welled as he laid a last flurry of fury which ensured she'd hurt whenever she sat for days.

"It's over," he said.

She rose and faced his open arms. Stepping forward, they pulled her tight and wrapped her safe.

"Thank you for not letting me off," she whispered.

"You took it very well."

"You need to be hard on me, it's just how I am."

"I know. I will be."

His promise enveloped her as his manhood pressed hard against her.

"Now go to the bed," he growled.

She obeyed. He followed. His warm fingers teased her hot skin as he unbuttoned her blouse. She ripped down his trunks and stroked his manhood. Her sex rampant, she tore her arms out of her sleeves, flung her blouse behind her, unsnapped her bra, freed her rock-hard nipples and lay back ready for him.

His finger probed the swollen lips of her sex as he eased her panties aside. She groaned as he buried himself deep inside her. Encased in her obedient panties and impaled on his manhood, she grazed her nipples with her fingertips as he forced her to the brink of pleasure and ordered her to delay her delight.

She froze her fingers and her hips, falling away from the edge. He lifted her a second time, thrust her to the peak of pleasure and made her wait.

Testing her obedience, he propelled her onto the edge, held her in ecstatic agony and flung her down the other side. Her body erupted as he detonated deep inside her. Wave after wave of crashing orgasms spilled and tumbled through her sex, delivering utter bliss as she writhed in exquisite pleasure beneath his weight.

"That's the best sex of my life."

He smiled, "And mine."

"You're incredible. I've never come like that. I'll still feel it tomorrow."

"You'll feel something else too."

"That, I deserve. You were perfect."

Next morning, Alison opened the door to Sam. Her friend's message had only said 'coming over'.

They took stools at the kitchen island. As soon as Alison had settled, Sam stepped off her stool, faced away and pushed down her leggings and panties.

"Wow," Alison said. "You got it good, babe. What did you do?"

"Wore hot-pink panties. I had to know if he'd give me a proper punishment."

"Well, you got your answer. Talk about all-out defiance, hot-pink wasn't subtle."

"I didn't want to leave anything to chance."

"I'm so glad for you," Alison said. Josh had sounded promising. Now, her friend's marked bottom eradicated any lingering doubt.

"I came harder than I've ever come in my life."

"Oh babe," Alison stood and wrapped her friend in a hug. It was the best news ever. She'd tried to help Sam, but finding a man who would discipline you was as much art as science.

White panties still around her knees, Sam returned the hug, extra hard. "Thanks for helping me. It might have cost us both the cane, but Josh is worth every single stroke."