« Spanking Stories

"Three more," Sam said.

She and Carrie lifted their blue dumbbells above their heads, holding them steady for a count of ten. Twice more they lifted their arms before placing the weights on the matching blue mats in the weights corner of the Riverside Club.

Carrie's security had approved the hired venue years ago. They always blocked the main entrance with vehicles and parked an SUV in the rear driveway to prevent approach and aid escape.

As they stood catching their breath, Sam said, "Break?"

"Yes," panted Carrie. "You're working me harder than a full stage set."

Sam smiled. She wasn't, but she'd upped the weights elements to help Carrie's arm muscles handle her now signature cartwheels.

Grabbing their drinks bottles from the window ledge, they leaned back against the wall and drank healthy amounts of water.

"Do you deserve discipline today?" Sam asked.

"Yes," Carrie said without hesitation. Since she'd first tried Sam's extra service, she'd chosen discipline most weeks. At first, they'd called it meditation, but as time went on, she'd called it what it was. Discipline. Strict, punishing hurt to correct her errant behavior.

"What have you done?"

Carrie loved the question. The chance to unburden herself and talk about things she was ashamed of, had enhanced her workouts. She'd been building up to today's confession for some time. She'd almost mentioned it last week, but a bout of serious attitude had come first.

"I'm embarrassed," she said.

"Don't be," Sam said. "Do you remember when I first talked about this?"

Carrie nodded.

"It embarrassed me, telling you my boyfriend had caned me for my inappropriate behavior towards you. I didn't know how you'd take it or what you'd think, but the embarrassment was part of my punishment. So is yours right now. Tell me and accept it must be uncomfortable."

Carrie took a breath. "I've been masturbating. Not just a little, I mean, like it's going out of fashion."

"There's nothing wrong with that."

"I know, but this has been happening for weeks. I did some research after you first punished me. It's easy to find stories about girls getting spanked at school. I've read lots of them. It makes me hot as hell, just like your actual canings do. They hurt like hell. Don't worry, I'm always sorry afterwards and it works because I feel free and forgiven. But I've been imagining official spankings at school, bent over a desk. I get hot at the mere thought of being ordered to accept my punishment and all the embarrassment it entails."

Sam smiled. "You realize, I don't find this odd."

"Oh, thank god," Carrie said. "I've gone way too far. In one of my earliest videos, I wore a smart school uniform for one scene. I went and fished it out of my costume store. It's still a fantastic fit. I keep putting it on and pretending the headmaster has sent for me."

Sam laughed. "You, and every other girl, although I doubt they have a flawless uniform to hand."

Carrie looked at Sam, "For sure?"

"Yep. You're just not that special," Sam grinned.

Carrie smiled. "Does it turn you on?"

"Yes. While I'm told off, anticipating it and always afterwards. During my spanking, I'm too focused on why it has to hurt to be turned on, but afterwards I'm crazy hot."

Carrie relaxed and smiled at Sam. "Sometimes I imagine it's you doing it."

"I'd better not be some old frump, even in your imagination," Sam said.

"Oh no, a fit gym mistress," Carrie grinned.

"Given I deliver your discipline, it's not surprising. Even if you find some pleasure in your punishment, it's still effective."

"That's my conflict. It hurts and I'm always well-mannered when I've had the cane so I know it's good for me, but I also get turned on by the experience."

"There's no harm in enjoying what you have to take, but I think this calls for a little extra today. A reminder your punishment can always get worse if it needs to."

Carrie smiled and put down her water bottle on the window sill. Whatever it was, she wanted it.

"Today, you'll strip off your shorts and do your push-ups in your panties."

Alarmed and excited, Carrie looked down at her skin tight white Reebok shorts. Her sex clenched tight as she said, "I'm only wearing a string."

"Then your caning is going to hurt a great deal and be an enormous embarrassment. Suitable, don't you think?"

Carrie's sex flushed with heat and shame. Being made to strip or just lift her skirt and reveal her panties had been the devastating, but delicious, element driving her imagination.

Sam watched Carrie' expression. The promise of embarrassment and pain had gone down well. "Back to the weights before we move on. Concentrate on placing your arms, not thoughts of what's coming up," she smiled.

They were back on the blue mat, their arms straight up beside their heads, when there was a loud pounding on the main gym door. Never in all the years had anyone disturbed their session. Putting down her weights, Sam went to the door and opened it, Carrie close behind.

Her manager slipped in, followed by her bodyguard.

"The press are descending en masse," her manager said. He turned his phone to Carrie. The newspaper headline read 'Carrie in Lurid Sex Video Scandal.'

Her face fell, her heart and her hopes with it. She recognized the private video. "How bad?" she demanded.

"Not good. We have to keep you out of view while we figure this out. PR is on it."

"Do nothing until I decide. Don't dignify it with any response," Carrie instructed. "Make sure everyone gets the message."

The manager nodded.

"Get ready to leave," her bodyguard said. "How long do you need?"

"Five minutes," Carrie said.

"Make it two."

Carrie ran to the changing room while Sam listened to the manager and bodyguard discuss strategies. It was clear getting her out of here would be hard, but just as hard was where to go and how impossible it would be to keep her location secret.

Sam spoke up. "I have a very wealthy friend who lives on a private estate. Nobody gets within two miles of the house."

"Where?" the bodyguard demanded.

"Walton Hill."

"It's viable," he said to the manager. The estate was renowned for its privacy.

"We keep it to just us," the manager said, "not a word to anyone. You guys guard her home, keep up the pretense she's there."

The bodyguard looked pensive. "What are these people like?"

Sam pulled him aside and explained who Adam was and how she knew Alison. "Okay," he said. "This is unusual, but might work because it's so insane. The press won't expect us to respond this fast either."

They stepped back to the manager. The bodyguard said, "Here is how we play it. There's an admin girl with blond hair. We put her in Carrie's hoodie and swarm around her, head down to the car and make a big show of whisking her away." He turned to Sam, "You put Carrie in the back of your car, face down in the footwell, and leave via the back entrance right after us. The second you see the SUV pull out of the back drive, go straight to the location. Call nobody. Say nothing. Call me when she's safe."

He took her aside again and gave her a code word to slip into a sentence if she or Carrie were under duress.

Carrie returned, stripping off her hoodie and handing it over while they briefed her. One of her guys braved the reporters to bring her laptop and go-bag from the SUV. The extra clothes and bathroom gear had been useful when an event had overrun, but for this genuine emergency she was never more glad to have the right stuff in hand.

Sam's black Mini was right outside the back door. "Go first," Carrie said. "Check there's nobody around and leave the rear door wide-open for me to dive in."

Sam slung all their bags in the trunk, opened the nearside rear door and got into the driving seat. As she snapped her seat belt in place, the door slammed behind her.

"Okay?" Sam whispered.

"Just. Don't talk, someone might see. I'm uncomfortable, but okay down here. I've practiced this drill," Carrie said.

Sam looked across the lawn at the black SUV down at the rear entrance. Without warning its lights came on and it pulled out, turning right into the traffic. She started her engine, drove down the drive, turned left onto the bridge and drove away from the Riverside Club.

Alison had added her Mini's license plate to Walton Hill's security list long ago. The luxury of driving straight through security while they inspected other vehicles was never move valuable than today. Even a bored security guard couldn't miss a pop princess lurking behind the seats.

At Alison's gate, she lowered her window and pressed the intercom buzzer.

Recognizing Adam's voice, she said, "Adam, it's Sam. It's an emergency. Let me in."

The gates swung back and closed behind her as she drove into Adam and Alison's private sanctuary. Pulling to a stop by the front door, she said, "We're safe. You can get up and out."

Sam explained her crisis to Adam, while Carrie extracted herself from the back of the tiny car.

"Come in," Adam said to Carrie, introducing himself. He took them upstairs and showed them the four available bedrooms. "Take your pick."

Carrie chose the largest available with a rear view. "Thank you, Adam. I'm very grateful."

"You're welcome. I'll make lunch around noon. Cold meats and salad. Will that do?"

"Yes, please," Carrie smiled, ravenous.