« Spanking Stories

"You've had the cane," Sam blurted out. The vision defied her eyes.

"Yes, I deserved it," Alison said, having no choice.

She'd slipped down her jeans to try on her blue Donna Karan dress. Her light blue Lucky Brand jeans around her ankles and her back to Sam, she'd revealed her stylish green string bikini panties along with six faded cane stripes emerging either side.

Her new home with Adam was on the private estate of Walton Hill, renowned for its privacy. Looking for new friends in her new location, she'd joined a yoga studio a short drive away. She and Sam had exchanged smiles once or twice before the confident, pretty blonde had unrolled her mat beside Alison's and introduced herself.

Over a drink after class, Sam had admitted she didn't want to go to yoga in the evenings. She was a personal trainer and spent quite enough time working out. She'd only joined to meet friends. Few people admitted they were trying to make friends, so Sam's honesty had been a breath of fresh air. Raising her glass with a smile, Alison had said, "Mission Accomplished."

Drinks and coffee had turned into evenings spent together at Sam's house. When she'd first reciprocated and invited Sam over for dinner, she'd worried about Sam's reaction, but her friend had admired her six bedroom mansion and continued as normal.

Earlier in the day, Sam had called in a panic asking if she could borrow a dress for a movie premiere tonight. A client had invited her this morning. She couldn't say no, and couldn't appear on the red carpet underdressed. In all their time together, she hadn't realized Sam was that kind of personal trainer. She never spoke about her clients.

Since the sale of his company, Adam had treated her to a wardrobe full of designer dresses and many occasions to wear them. Excited by the chance to share her wardrobe with Sam, she hadn't intended to try on dresses, but Sam had spotted the fabulous blue Donna Karan and had wanted to see it on the curves it belonged to. Without a thought, she'd pushed down her jeans and opened up a nightmare.

"What did you do?" Sam asked.

Alison had considered someone discovering her secret. Shock, derision and concern had all crossed her mind as natural reactions, but never acceptance.

"I lied. Adam asked me if a co-worker fancied me. I said no, but the guy had tried to kiss me the evening before. I'd just wanted to ignore it, but guilt ate away at me. The next day I told him everything. The cane was the least I deserved."

"Did you have a choice?" Sam asked.

"I suppose I always do, but punishment clears the air and for a deliberate lie, it must be the hardest punishment."

Sam knew she shouldn't pry, but couldn't help herself. She wanted the full picture. "What were you wearing?"

"These jeans and a white blouse," Alison said, kicking off the soft denim and sitting on the end of the bed in her green panties and white tee.

"Did he make you take your jeans down?"

"Yes, I got it on my panties. I'd prepared myself to apologize, explain, and take my punishment. When I know I'm going to be punished, I often like to wear white cotton bikini panties. They feel appropriate for a disobedient girl who must bend over."

"I thought it was only me," Sam gasped. "That's what I do."

She sat down beside her friend. "I spank myself with my hairbrush when I need it." Her private admission filled the room. "I put on white cotton panties because they make me feel young, obedient and in severe trouble. I use my hairbrush as hard as I can to deliver a fair punishment that hurts."

"Does it hurt enough?"

"It stings for a moment. Not like yours. How did you find a man who would punish you?"

Alison laughed. "By almost losing my job." She told Sam about drinking at work, Adam's unexpected arrival and his bold solution.

"Did you have good panties on?"

Alison smiled and nodded. "Yes. Mint green and white striped cotton bikinis. Cute and sexy, but not much protection. My bottom was dark red all over when he'd finished."

"It's hard to spank yourself like that. When I've overspent or had a lax attitude to work, it makes my transgression real and I feel better for having made a formal admission, if only to myself. But it doesn't make me have to suffer with dignity, and I've never made myself hurt beyond what's easy."

"Does it turn you on?" Alison asked.

"Yes, making myself comply turns me on. It makes me horny. I have to imagine being stern with myself, but after I've taken my spanking, I'm hot as hell."

"So am I," Alison grinned. "Being made to be a good girl is hot, horny and hurts. Regardless of the pleasure, it's impossible to receive the cane and not be compliant straight away. Adam and I have never argued, not once. I take the blame, bend over, hurt for a while, and get explosive sex."

"You're one lucky girl," Sam breathed.

Alison smiled and shifted on the bed to face her friend, "Have you always done it?"

"It began a few years ago. I overspent. With no outlet for my disappointment, I was tense. Irritated with myself, I decided there had to be consequences. I denied myself chocolate for a week as punishment, but next day I couldn't resist the bar in the fridge."

Alison smiled, "That's understandable."

"Understandable, but unforgivable," Sam said. "Angry with myself, I searched online for how to punish yourself. The hairbrush stung and left me marked. It felt honorable to accept the pain. Every night for the rest of the week, I stripped, took my punishment and had a sore evening. My self-respect returned, but I was so horny I had to smack myself harder to justify the pleasure."

"Being punished calms me, and for a few days I get a reminder when I sit. The burst of pain and shame reminds me I needed punishment. It's an enormous boost to my pride."

Sam turned to face Alison, "I'm never as sore as you but my punishments provide pleasant shame for a few hours and keep me sweet," she smiled. "Who knew we'd have this chat today?"

Alison leaned in and hugged her friend, "This chat is far from over." Getting up from the bed, she pulled off her tee and, at last, stepped into the blue Donna Karan dress.

"OMG," Sam cried as Alison turned to be admired from every angle. "I knew it. You look sensational."

Alison flicked through the wardrobe and removed a black silk Dolce & Gabbana body-con dress. Handing it to Sam, she said, "It'll ride high, but you've got the legs for it."

Sam flicked open her jeans, pushed the blue denim down and left them with her blouse on the floor. In her black string panties, she shimmied into the D & G silk, flicked her long blonde hair over her shoulder and spun in front of the mirror, grinning from ear to ear.

"Red carpet material," Alison clapped.

"My heels will go with this. Thank you so much." She spun once more and slid out of the dress. Alison took it, placed it back in its carrier and hung it on the wardrobe door.

Stepping back into her jeans, Sam said, "I may never strut the red carpet again, but I can't thank you enough. I'll feel like a star tonight."

"That's what friends are for," Alison smiled. "Not so long ago, I only had one cheap little black dress in my wardrobe. You've made my afternoon. In more ways than expected."

Sam returned the smile, "Talking to you about it makes my shameful little secret feel like no big deal."

"I'm glad. But our chat presents a problem. I have to tell Adam. We don't keep secrets. In telling you about our relationship, I've exposed his privacy. I doubt he'll let my carelessness go. I expect to feel the cane tonight. If I'd remembered, I'd have turned my bum away and slipped the dress on, without you ever noticing."

"I'm glad you didn't."

"Me too."

Sam walked over to the window and took a moment to think. Turning, she said. "It will embarrass me - him knowing - but I'll get over it."

"Thank you. He'll never say a word. In fact, I can guarantee it will impress him."

Thinking about Adam had given her a daring idea. Showcasing the outline of her green string bikini panties under the tight blue dress, she reached above the wardrobe and took down the cane.

Handing it to Sam, she said. "This is the price I'll pay for our chat."

Sam smoothed her fingers along the rattan and flicked it with her wrist. Her sex throbbed as she imagined the hard crack on her disobedient bottom. Fear etched on her face, she handed it back.

"I've never seen an actual cane. That would hurt."

The gleam of excitement and flash of fear in her friend's eyes convinced Alison to proceed. "It does," she said. "One stoke and you are compliant. The rest teach the lesson you need. Would you like to be caned?"

"By you?"

"No, silly. By Adam."

Sam's eyes flashed with fear, excitement and dread. "How?"

"You could have closed down our conversation or never mentioned what you saw. Good manners dictate you should have, although I'm glad you didn't."

"I'm sorry," Sam said.

"Sorry enough to take the cane for your behavior?"

"I deserve it," Sam said, her eyes downcast. "And I still don't regret my behavior one bit."

"Is that a yes?"

Looking her friend in the eye, Sam said, "Yes. I'll regret my manners with every stroke and celebrate our friendship at the same time."

Alison smiled. It was the way she often felt when disciplined; pleased with her mistake and sorry at the same time.

"I'll tell Adam what happened. I'll explain you're prepared to accept the cane, but it's up to him."

Sam held her breath.

"Are you okay?" Alison asked.

"Yes. Sorry. It's a shock. I'm facing the cane for real and I deserve it."

"If it's only me getting it, he'll punish me tonight. But if he agrees to deal with us both, then you should expect to be more sore than you've ever been tomorrow night."

"Thank you," Sam said. "Is it mad to be excited?"

"Hell yes," Alison grinned.

"I won't let you down," Sam said. "If he canes me, I'll take it with good grace, no matter how much it hurts."

Taking Sam's hand, Alison pulled her in for a hug. The afternoon had cemented their friendship in a way she'd never imagined with anyone. She hoped Sam could keep her word, because tomorrow would be a serious upgrade in punishment for her.

"I'm grateful," Sam said, "even if I don't get caned, the fear I might is thrilling."

Breaking away, she lifted the dress from the wardrobe door, "Thank you so much for this. It's gorgeous."

Alison slipped off the Donna Karan and put it away. Her jeans and tee back on, they walked down the stairs together. Sam paused in front of the wide hallway mirror, "I'm not the same person I was a few hours ago."

Nudging in beside her, Alison said, "Me either."

The unmistakable throaty roar of Adam's Lamborghini in the driveway thrilled Alison. Having him come home to her still made her heart race. The house had changed, but they hadn't. She ran to meet him in the hall.

"We have to talk," she said.

Her tone told him the talk they would be having. "Okay," he said, giving her a squeeze.

She led him through to the lounge. The windows looked out over their patio, pool and sprawling garden. But she focused her attention on him. She told him about her mistake, the inevitable conversation and the outcome.

"It might have worked out much worse. You weren't to know. Your carelessness has compromised our privacy. You were careless. I'm going to cane you, hard, to teach you a lesson."

She lowered her head in shame. He was right. She'd let him down, and not in a minor way. She would offer her bottom and take the pain necessary to put things right between them.

"I'm not sure how to feel about Sam, after this," he said. "She has sharp eyes, but lacks decorum. It would have been polite to ignore it or, if essential, make a brief comment and move on."

His reaction was better than she could have dreamed. She met his gaze. "Sam and I discussed this. She realizes she overstepped and is sorry. If you decide to cane her as well, she'll come over tomorrow night and accept it with good grace."

He raised an eyebrow. He couldn't deny the idea appealed. Sam was beautiful. Two desirable girls in need of strict discipline. He'd thought it would never happen again.

Alison smiled, "Bring back memories?"

"Good ones," he said. "I'll make you both strip to your panties and I'll thrash you. Yours will be worse, but Sam is fit. I'll cane her hard so she'd better be ready."

"She won't let you down."

"Then it's agreed. You've got a full day to prepare for it," he said.

Encircling her with one arm, he swept the other under her legs. She flung her arms around his neck with a wide smile.

"This chat has immediate consequences - the good kind," he said.

She held on with one arm, unbuttoned her jeans, slid the zip down and drove her hand into her damp panties.

As he carried her, she rubbed herself, and panted, "Caned together. Thrashed."

He met her gaze, "Hard. You both deserve it."

Her frantic clit pulsed under her fluent fingers as he asked, "What's it like having a girlfriend who gets you?"

"It hasn't sunk in yet."

He smiled, "It will tomorrow night."