« Spanking Stories

Adam moved his laptop to the shelf behind his desk and walked back around to where Nina stood. "Face the desk and drop your sweatpants."

She deserved to be here. Her bottom would reflect the epic size of her failure. Her prescribed punishment, eighteen hard strokes of the cane. Arrogance, laziness, and carelessness had all shone through her investor presentation, undermining her projected confidence.

She faced his empty desk, small sculptures, photos and books back-lit on the shelves behind it. The mirrored backing reflected her fingers as she fiddled with the drawstring on the front of her sweatpants.

He waited. This was an unfamiliar experience for her. She was a smart girl. He would give her time to comply.

Her hands left the mirror, slid into the sides of her sweatpants and pushed them down. They fell to her ankles, revealing black boy shorts complimenting her tight black cotton vest top. She stood, humbled by having to unveil her panties.

He knew the power of waiting and remained silent.

In the place of her sweatpants, the flat front of her thin boy shorts stared back at her in the mirror. She kept her hands by her sides and let shame wash over her. Compared to holding out her hand, being stripped to her panties for her spanking was mortifying.

"Bend over, Nina."

She lowered her arms onto the charcoal-black wooden surface. Her boy shorts rose and stretched tight, revealing her lower bottom. Alison had described the position to her. She wasn't unaware of how harsh spankings got delivered, but it was the first time she'd ever been bent over.

The cane leveled against her black cotton.

"Arrogance is not a virtue."

Arrogance had screwed her presentation. Her arrogance. Aware of her thin panties, she still agreed. A terrifying swish warned her ears. She tensed as the cane cracked into her panty clad behind. Savage sting burned a ridge across both cheeks. The pain intensified to an unbearable level as the heat sank into her bottom. She gave an anguished yelp as she reached the peak of the pain.

As the pain subsided, the cane tapped her bottom above where she hurt the most. She splayed her fingers on the desk and concentrated on managing herself. The rattan ripped another ridge high on her behind, spreading the area which hurt.

He spoke as her suffering settled. "Nina, being caned is a serious punishment. It's going to hurt far more yet. You've done well to take your first strokes, but your compound mistakes mean you must take three painful punishments this afternoon. Right now, that must seem unbearable, but I expect you to maintain your dignity and accept what you deserve."

"Yes, sir."

Surprised by her natural formality, she pressed her arms into the desk and held still. Her mistakes had cost her future. It called for serious repentance. She relaxed her body and let it hurt. Her bare curves erupted in searing pain as he laid the next stroke low on her bottom. The pain soared after the initial impact, forcing her to address her arrogance. Her throbbing bottom burned as he laid on her strokes, delivering the full six agonizing lines her arrogance had earned.

"It might seem kind for me to give you a break between your punishments, but I won't because the pain will settle and make the next strokes more punishing than you deserve."

"Yes, sir," came unbidden from her lips again. He knew best. He'd caned her friend many times. Her admiration for Alison soared as she panted hard over his desk, bearing her punishment with increasing fortitude. Her friend got caned often. Honor demanded she take it too.

"Your out-of-date stats were because you're trying to do so much, but it conveys laziness and there's no room for excuses."

He was right. She had to be perfect all the time. She'd been lazy. No excuses. She pushed her bottom out for a sincere scorching blow and suffered with only a brief cry. She took her pain to heart as the cane lashed her cheeks, attempting to accept it in disciplined silence as the shocking punishment delivered fresh torment with every stroke.

Concentrating on her breathing, she didn't notice he'd caned her laziness out of her.

"Your carelessness was just that," he said. "If you're asking for money, say how you'll spend it."

His scolding hit hard. She nodded, even though he was behind her.

"I must give you six more strokes. I'm sorry it's going to hurt so much, but you deserve it, Nina."

"Thank you," she said, trying to sound brave and nodding. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize to me. Apologize to yourself while I deliver your strokes," he commanded.

She obeyed, making a heartfelt apology to herself for her carelessness as agony built in her throbbing bottom. Heat sank into her backside as each impact shot to its peak and receded before the next stroke multiplied her pain. He kept her sore through five determined strokes.

"Last one," he said. "I want you to remember this punishment for a long time. I'm going to make sure it hurts whenever you sit for the next few days."

The warm cane tapped the vulnerable skin where her bottom met her legs. Almost collapsing in on herself at the thought of the coming pain, she tensed her legs. So sensitive to even the lightest tap of the cane, she couldn't contemplate the agony of being struck right there.

"Relax and let it hurt you. You need this," he said, his voice firm and kind.

He was right. She deserved painful days of sitting. Trusting his judgment, she relaxed. Vicious pain flashed across her tender flesh. Furious burn overtook her soft skin. She flung her hands forward and grabbed the far edge of the desk to stop herself from leaping up as devastating pain rampaged her body and stormed her mind.

"Well done. You may stand up."

She didn't. She couldn't let go of the desk.

He waited. It could take some time to come down from the traumatic place she'd been. After a minute, she stood, using his desk to help her. She was so sore she didn't notice the shifting pain in her bottom. Everywhere hurt.

He handed her the cane. She took it and slid her hands along its warm surface, holding the smooth rattan which had beaten her with the utmost reverence.

"I'm guessing you now have a profound respect for it," he smiled.

"I do." She looked up at him as she handed back the cane. "And for you too. I'm devastated about letting myself down. Thank you for reprimanding me and caning me. I deserved it. In time, I'll feel better, but right now I just hurt."

"It was a serious caning. You took it with such excellence, I'm surprised it was your first time. Well done. I'd tell you to recover, but I think you should capitalize on our conversation while you're sore."

She looked at him.

"The next hour will be agony for you, but go back to your chair and write what you think and know in one neat page. Forget about how to build a presentation. You were far better when you talked about your game. Write about the psychology report which drove you, quote current stats, describe your competitors with respect and don't forget to say how you'd spend the cash."

She didn't want to see a chair, let alone sit in one, but pulled up her sweat pants and obeyed his instruction. Her caned bottom would ram her lesson home while she wrote. Getting it all down and making a perfect pitch would recover some good from this dreadful day.

It was the most painful and perfect document she'd ever written. She'd needed the brief hug Alison had come and given her, but she didn't need the entire page to state her case.

While she'd been writing, he'd been back at his desk tapping away on his laptop at the other end of the office. He looked up when she handed him a single page, fresh off the printer, and stood while he read it. Placing the document on his desk, he pointed and said, "Check your email."

She went over to her desk, leaned over it, her spanked bottom berating her, spun her laptop and read the new message from DocuSign. Double clicking to open the accompanying document, it spread across her screen. The title read Term Sheet. It detailed an investment by a company with a weird name in Bermuda. They would invest $30 million dollars in BattleWeek for 30% of the business, reducing their share to 5%, if she repaid the original money within five years.

It was ten times what she'd hoped to get and would take her further, faster than she'd ever dared dream. She scanned down the simple terms. Finding nothing fishy, she clicked at the bottom and signed.

As she stood, his email pinged with her signature.

"Don't you want to read it again before you sign?" he asked.

She smiled as she walked back across the office. "You've signed my bottom. What more will I ever need? Thank you, Adam, it's the most generous thing anyone's ever done for me. Why?"

"You may be guilty of mistakes, but you're far from stupid. You accepted your spanking straightaway and with goodwill. It was very severe, but you took it with fortitude and grace, even thanking me after I'd just thrashed you. Your one-page pitch is perfect." He tapped his finger on her one-page document on his desk. "You know what you're doing. Like you, I'm sure it's going to be a hit."

"Why did you let me make a fool of myself in front of those other investors?"

"You might have got the investment, and the lesson did you no harm."

"You're right. It hurt, but it did me no harm at all," she grinned. With a sudden shock, she realized she'd made it. She had the money to succeed. "Thank you for caning me and giving me no room to regret it."

"That's okay, partner. Tomorrow we'll talk details and start planning."

She rushed down the stairs, ignoring her sore bottom, and found Alison preparing dinner. "Adam just invested in BattleWeek."

Alison looked surprised, even though she wasn't. He'd commented on Nina's focus and the speed with which she produced imaginative new game levels. She'd seen it coming, just not tonight.

She put down her chopping knife and gave Nina the hugest hug. "I guess you'll be staying a while."

Nina grinned. "Indefinitely."