« Spanking Stories

Carrie put her emergency go-bag on the floor in Adam's guest room and placed her laptop bag on the small desk.

As Adam was leaving the room, Sam asked, "Is anyone else here?"

"No, just me. Nina and Alison will be home tonight."

She'd met Nina the weekend she arrived to stay with Alison. Ultra focused on her work, Sam understood her. They'd shared an intimate girls' night. Nina had recounted her and Alison's strappings as roommates at college and even given her a full stroke of the strap across each hand to show how much it hurt. Her stinging palms had made her part of their club. She'd recounted how Alison had tested her caning skills and how her extra discipline services were going over well with clients. Nina had been a lovely addition to her profound friendship with Alison.

"I'll leave you to it," Adam said. "Explore where you want. The perimeter is trees and walls. Nobody overlooks any section of the property. You're safe to go outside."

Carrie relaxed and smiled. Most people weren't as security conscious as her. It was refreshing to have someone think the same way.

Sam closed the door behind Adam and Carrie perched on the end of the bed.

"You'll be safe here," Sam said, "Adam and Alison are discreet. They don't live on social media. Alison markets pens for a living. Adam built and sold Zang."

"Oh, wow," Carrie said. "I've bought loads of clothes from them. I didn't know who was behind Zang."

"Well, now, he's obsessed with a new online game called BattleWeek."

"Who's Nina?"

"She's the creator of BattleWeek and Alison's roommate from college. She's great. You'll love her. The game is growing. She spends her entire life at the office or here."

"Why does she live here?"

"Good question. She came to stay as a guest when she was raising money and has been too busy to leave. Plus, now Adam's invested, they're always working late into the evenings together."

"Does Alison mind that?" Carrie asked.

"Not at all. I think she's pleased he has a project to get his teeth into. She and Nina are solid friends."

Carrie went over to the window and looked out while Sam reported their safe status to Carrie's bodyguard as promised.

Incensed, Carrie said, "I can't believe he leaked it. Total shit. I bet he got paid well for it."

"You know who did it?"

"For sure. I only ever filmed myself once, and I recognized it straight away. It was years ago. A month back, he came asking for money and I turned him down."

"Bastard," Sam said. "Were you singing back then?"

"Yes," Carrie said.

"You should have known better. That was irresponsible."

"I know. Plus, I'm already due punishment from our earlier conversation and now I'm stuck here."

"That isn't a problem."

"You'd cane me here?" Carrie asked.

"Of course," Sam smiled. "As long as you're quiet, Adam won't hear. But even if he did, it wouldn't matter."

Carrie's eyebrows shot up.

"Alison and Adam introduced me to the cane before I met my boyfriend, Josh. Alison is a well-behaved girl."

"Does Nina know?"

Sam laughed. "Nina introduced Alison to a leather strap across her hands when they were roommates. Their friendship has passed the test of time."

"Does everyone get punished?" Carrie asked.

Sam smiled. "You're in good company, the very best."

Carrie looked at Sam and said, "I'm going to learn more about you, Sam."

"You're staying with the girl who knows me the best. Ask Alison anything. Now, will you take your punishment?"

Laden with guilt from their earlier chat, Carrie couldn't bear the agony of waiting. She shifted her stance. Her sex fluttered at the risk of being heard. "Okay," she nodded.

"I'll get the cane," Sam said, opening the door.

She didn't go down to her car but across to Alison's bedroom. There were two canes above the wardrobe. She borrowed the thicker one.

Carrie noticed the darker rattan when she returned, "That isn't the usual one."

"It's Alison's," Sam smiled. "I told you she was well-behaved."

"I would be too," Carrie said, looking in fear at the thick dark-gold rod in Sam's hand.

"Making a sex video," Sam counted on her fingers. "Inordinate masturbation." Another finger joined the count. "Using me in your fantasies." She allowed a wry smile as she raised the third finger.

"Please treat the last one with the special harshness it deserves," Carrie said.

Sam assessed Carrie. In skinny black jeans and tee, she looked smaller than she did in her workout kit.

"Strip to your underwear," she commanded.

Shocked and thrilled by the unexpected order, Carrie unbuttoned her jeans. Pushing them down each leg, she stepped out of them and raised her tee over her head, keen to show swift obedience.

Changing in the gym, flooded with a sense of obedience from her earlier conversation with Sam, she'd slipped into white cotton underwear. She'd worn white cotton panties under her school uniform in the original video shoot in case they showed. Now, she'd taken to wearing them under her jeans too, liking how virtuous and innocent they made her feel.

She shivered as Sam walked around her, cane in hand, inspecting her white cotton bikini panties and plain white bra. The atmosphere was as thrilling as it was strict.

Satisfied, Sam said. "No push ups. Today is proper punishment. I'm going to cane you, Carrie. You've put your career at risk, taken pleasure without control and disrespected me."

Carrie looked up at Sam. This was better than any scolding she'd dreamed of. Guilty of each offense, they all warranted severe discipline.

"To be clear, Carrie," Sam said, looking at her, "this is strict punishment which you deserve. You need it, and it's going to hurt beyond belief. Do you wish me to take anything into account?"

"No, Sam," Carrie said. "I'm sorry and I understand why you must be hard on me."

Sam pointed to the end of the bed. "Bend over."

Carrie had seen it in pictures. An obedient girl bent to be punished, her bottom on display. Now she must assume the position too. Bending from her waist, she rested her arms on the crisp white comforter, leaning her weight forward until her arms pressed into the mattress. Her tight panties stretched as she bent, baring more bottom and adding to her already rich shame.

The shocking departure from their normal collaborative roles wrought fierce pleasure through her. Many times, she'd imagined receiving official punishment and being ordered to bend. But this was brutal and intense.

The cane rested against her underwear, reminding her how exposed she was. Shivers coursed through her body, lighting up her sex.

"Look down at the bed and think about your wisdom in making that video," Sam said.

The reality of her position came home to her. She stared at the Egyptian cotton as the cane cracked into her white cotton panties. Fierce sting erupted in her backside and burn spread through her cheeks as the stroke tormented her taut skin.

Determined to be dutiful, she swallowed the pain in silence. The sex had been awesome, but the video unwise. At least she looked good in it. Realizing the inappropriateness of the thought, she held still as the cane seared her skin, adding deep burn to her lower bottom.

"You can't trivialize your three appalling offenses. You've had the first two of twelve strokes."

Carrie's sex dripped liquid approval at the stiff sentence. A full twelve strokes of pure punishment. She could handle it, but hell, it would hurt.

"This thicker cane should penetrate pain deep into your bottom and mark you for longer. Is it working?"

Sam didn't need the answer. The marks creeping from Carrie's panties made it clear how hard she'd caned the girl. But being made to answer the person punishing you was humbling.

"Yes, thank you. It's tons more painful than usual."

"Good. You deserve it," Sam said.

Forced to thank Sam, wild heat pulsed into Carrie's sex. Fierce pain slashed across the peak of her bent bum. Agony flooded her behind as her skin burned. She swayed her hips from side to side, hoping to ease the fresh sting.

"Keep still," Sam said.

Corrected, Carrie held herself in position. She'd deserved this for weeks. It had been presumptuous and inappropriate to imagine Sam as a strict gym mistress. As it should be, the reality was far worse. The cane rewarded her contrition with sharp shocks. As she got used to each vigorous stroke, the next built her agony, lifting her spirits as she handled each bout of suffering with increased pride. Every time the rattan rod struck her taut panties, severe distress ensued. She handled it with respect, accepting her disgrace and the need to have it marked upon her.

"Last one," Sam said. "Muster all the shame you should and stay still. This is going to hurt for days. You'll not enjoy sitting. When it's causes you discomfort, let it."

Carrie slowed her breathing as the cane tapped the soft skin right below her bottom. On almost any day, she couldn't get strokes there because they would show in short shorts, but they both knew she wouldn't be performing this week.

She summoned all her reserves and thought about how disrespectful she'd been towards Sam. Fire scorched her sensitive skin and blazed a trail across her softness. Her sex flooded her with fierce heat to combat the hurt, but the pain overwhelmed her.

"I'm sorry," she cried out.

"I know you are," Sam said, stroking her shoulder. "You can stand when you're ready."

Using the bed to support her as she stood, Carrie said, "Thank you, Sam."

"You took it very well. How was it to bend over for official punishment?"

Carrie touched the ridges through her panties. "Shocking, and shameful. But I deserved it. You were wonderful and strict. I'm so sorry for disrespecting you."

"Hush," Sam said, putting her arm around Carrie. "I've done far worse in my mind. It's normal, but from time to time needs dutiful correction."

Carrie smiled. "I've been imagining it for weeks. Maybe not like this, but near enough."

"We can talk about it this week, if you'd like. You'll have more time than usual."

"I'd love that," Carrie grinned. "Right now, I've got to talk to my manager."

"Of course, I should go, I've got another client this afternoon. Will you be okay?"

"Yes, very much so. Thank you for everything."

Having agreed to visit tomorrow, Sam left.

In her panties and bra, Carrie lay back on the bed. Her manager could wait. She needed pain relief. She slid her hand into her white cotton panties, swamped in the satisfying sense of innocent obedience they delivered.

Taut cotton over her hand, she replayed every moment in her mind. Sam had made her strip, forced her to bend, and caned her hard. It had been official punishment. She'd had no choice but to comply, despite certain pain. Letting her desperate nipples rub against the confines of her bra, she slid her spare hand under her and fingered her painful ridges. Heat on her fingertips, the startling pain of her touch delivered a vicious climax. She exploded over her hand as an avalanche of orgasms crashed through her body, leaving her relaxed, fulfilled and sore.

She climbed off the bed and crossed to the en-suite. Lowering her panties, she inspected her stripes in the large mirror above the twin-basins. The ridges were darker and thicker than normal. She pulled up her panties and admired how visible her thick cane lines still were through the thin white cotton. Either side they emerged to embarrass her, but through the thin white cotton the livid marks were obvious to anyone. She was a punished girl who'd got the cane for her misbehavior. She imagined someone seeing her marked bottom. Heavy humiliation drenched her and her sex clenched again in excitement at her deep shame.

Turning to the mirror, she smiled and watched herself slide her fingers under the elastic of her panties again. Watching a punished girl masturbate in the mirror, she realized whatever else she was, her twelve thick cane marks and her cute white cotton panties made her a girl well-dressed to meet girls who got punished.