« Spanking Stories

Charlotte ended the call and placed her iPhone on the table beside the armchair in her lounge. Still in her suit, she'd plonked herself in the comfortable chair as soon as she'd got in the door. Amelia had called on the way home and they'd been on the phone for over an hour.

Until a few weeks ago, the true story of her first date had remained untold. Explaining the discipline at the core of her relationship had given her phenomenal pleasure, and Amelia hadn't brought it up again until now.

As she stood, her navy suit jacket reflected in the glass door of the drinks cabinet. Formality was appropriate right now. It had been the order of the day at Girl Plan too. She'd spent most of the afternoon watching two of her girls try on suits and offering acres of approval. Both girls had upcoming job interviews. Girl Plan kept a vast wardrobe of donated suits for girls who didn't have one. Given the fundamental need, the process should have been quick, but presented with an array of suits each girl wanted to make a perfect choice since they would keep their precious outfit.

She'd never put David through the pain of sitting around while she tried on clothes. Now she knew why. It was hours of boredom punctuated with moments of intense pleasure as each of her girls had walked tall in her chosen suit. Their confidence had made her proud to give back.

Her mind returned to the predicament Amelia had put her in. She reined herself in with a ruthless mental whip crack. Amelia had done no such thing. The proverb 'Manners Maketh Man' used 'man' to apply to all mankind. That meant her as well. 'Manners make you blame your friend for your failings' had neither neat alliteration, nor truth to it. Knowing and exhibiting proper etiquette didn't just cover saying 'please' and 'thank you'. It covered all aspects of her behavior. How she conducted herself reflected who she was, and at this moment she was an inexcusable liar.

She sighed and went to find David.

She knocked on the open door and entered his study. Behind his desk, the last rays of evening sunlight warmed the floor. He looked relaxed and in control. His white shirt suggested he'd been out today. He invested wealth he'd inherited from his grandfather under the advice bequeathed alongside the money, and it led him towards interesting businesses.

She didn't go around his desk and give him a kiss. She wanted to, but she stood in front of it. "Amelia called on the way home. I've only just come off the phone. She wants to ask a favor, but first there's something I need to get off my chest."

He looked up. In her navy pinstripe skirt suit and heels, she looked delectable. The tight miniskirt skirt promised obedience, the long legs it exposed, pleasurable delight.

"Tell me," he said.

"A few weeks ago, Amelia saw cane marks on my bottom when I tried on a dress she'd bought. I tried to hide them, but the dress was tight and hard to get into. It was after you'd caned me for my behavior with her in the restaurant."

"What did she say?"

"She wanted to know everything. I didn't want her to think you were mean or cruel to me, so I made sure she understood I appreciate being punished."

"How much did you tell her?"

"Everything. I even invited her around the next day and told her all about our first date. It was wonderful to tell the truth to someone. She thought you were fabulous."

He smiled. "I'm glad it went well, but shouldn't you have told me?"

"I'd moved on and forgotten about it later in the day. We haven't talked about it again until just now, which is what reminded me."

"Sounds like an excuse," he said, his tone sharp.

"Sorry, I only meant to explain. I'm here for my punishment."

"Good. You lied. A lie by omission, but still a lie."

She nodded. "I'm sorry. I had no intention to deceive you, but I did."

"We'll deal with it. By the way, your suit is lovely."

"Thank you," she smiled. It was nice to get a compliment from the man about to punish her.

"Take it off," he ordered.

Under his firm gaze, she unzipped her skirt, slid it down, scooped it up, slipped off her jacket and placed them both over the back of a chair.

She stood in her navy lace bra and panties. Her sophisticated underwear had felt sexy under her tailored jacket. The gentle caress of the lining against her bare skin and the private knowledge she was almost naked had delighted her all day.

He looked her up and down, "You look lovely."

Stripped to her panties and bra in front of his desk, humility cast a deep shadow over her. "Thank you," she said.

"Wait there while I fetch the cane."

He rounded his desk and went out of the room. Reduced to size, she obeyed. She'd let him down, and herself. She cautioned herself to take her caning with dignity.

He returned and stood to the side of his desk, the flexible rattan rod oscillating in his hand.

"Bend over the desk," he commanded.

Grateful to begin, she bent forward and rested her arms on his desk. Lowering her weight onto arms, she bent right down in shame, her breasts crushed against the cool wooden surface as she stretched to grip the far size of his desk.

"Amelia is a long-standing friend and if you trust her, so do I. But you had a basic responsibility to let me know you'd discussed our intimate relationship, and in this you failed."

She twisted her head to the side, "I'm very sorry."

"Good girl."

The cool rattan tapped her navy lace. The delicate panties provided no protection. She'd compartmentalized her conversation with her friend. It was so stupid. Anyone could see what she should have done. The cane would inflict harsh pain and she deserved every stroke.

"Maybe it slipped your mind, but it shouldn't have. The result is still the same. You lied."

The cane sliced into her soft flesh. Ferocious agony tore a strip across her cheeks. The heat burned with a vengeance, firing painful pulses deep into her behind as her skin sizzled.

She should have told him as soon as she'd talked to Amelia. The conversation had been so normal between them. Given they'd grown up together, aware of each other's punishments, it hadn't surprised her and it had left her with a soft warm glow. But it had slipped her mind by the evening. It was now clear it had far from slipped Amelia's mind.

The rattan whipped vicious heat into her, pounding punishing pain into the depths of her disobedience. As her bottom burned, she pushed it out. Her light lace slid across her sensitive weals, giving a subtle burst of sharp pain.

The cane seared fury across the middle of her bottom, its heavy impact echoing around the room, emphasizing the shame in her heart. She forced her feet onto the floor and tightened her grip on the desk as escalating pain tested her obedience.

"You admitted your fault without delay once you realized. You don't need a sound thrashing, but make no mistake, I would have given you one if you had."

His compliment made her grateful. She'd made an honest mistake, a serious one, but there had been no intention to deceive. His recognition worked on top of his strokes to rebuild her self-respect, and her pride soared.

"Stand up."

She let go of the desk, her fingers aching almost as much as the penetrating pain he'd planted in her bottom. She flexed them as she turned to face him. Her hands by her sides, she said, "I'm sorry I lied. Thank you for caning me."

"You took it with dignity."

She smiled and looked up at him, "Thank you."

He took her in his arms, "You're an obedient girl. I love you."

His words wrapped around her as tight as his arms. He'd been hard on her without hesitation. He'd made her bend, and he'd caned her. She pressed her sex against his hardness, proof he wanted her.

He pulled her over to the ivory shaggy wool rug in the middle of the hardwood floor. She squealed in surprise as he swept her up and lowered her onto the dense pile. Standing over her, she pictured his view of her pretty navy bra and panties against the ivory wool as she watched him strip, his gaze never leaving her lace clad body. It was in her nature to submit to him, but turning him on was a well-deserved bonus.

He lay down beside her and stroked her inner thigh. Frissons of pleasure stormed her legs and whipped through her sex. She reached into his tight white trunks and released his manhood. Her sore cane stripes were pleasant punishment against the rug as she stroked his hardness.

"The cane is good for you," he said.

Her sex thrust fiery liquid agreement into her panties. He was right. Firm treatment was what she needed.

He pushed off his trunks and plunged his hand into her navy lace. Her slicked sex welcomed his finger as he caressed her clit.

"Take me," she panted.

Pulling down her scrap of lace with less care than it deserved, he lifted over her. She spread her thighs, reached behind her and released her bra. He thrust into her soaking sex, grazing her bottom against the rug. Her firm breasts freed, she flicked her thumbs over her glistening nipples as they burst with pride under his gaze. Gripping his bum, she pulled him deep into her.

"I got punished in my sophisticated panties," she gasped.

"They're beautiful. You're beautiful. But I had to cane you."

He thrust his pleasure deep into her and came hard. She twisted under him as orgasms blasted her core. She gripped his length and plunged into an abyss of stunning pleasure.

Neither of them had taken it slow. As they lay together, he said, "I adore your suit. The skirt is a stunning length, short enough to obsess over but just long enough to be graceful. It's lethal and watching the jacket glide over your sexy curves is painful. As for your sophisticated underwear, you must promise to wear it under your suit again. It's a hell of a prize to find."

She grinned at his detailed praise. "It will get us into trouble, if you can't resist me."

"Bring it on."

"I deserved to be punished, but it was sexy being bent and punished in sophisticated lingerie. I'll never be able to wear these panties or bra without remembering myself bent across your desk getting caned."

He smiled. He loved that her punishment would boost her pride long after the pain. "What did Amelia want?"

"Like me, she got hard punishment growing up. Once we got caned together. That's why she was so cool about you punishing me. You know how wild she is these days. She's been looking for the wrong type of man in all the wrong places. It seems our conversation did her some good."

He nodded.

"She even admitted she might have been looking for the wrong type of man. I asked about the last time anyone had punished her and off the top of her head she knew when it had been."

Staring up at the ceiling, he raised his eyebrows. "That surprises me."

"Me too. But she remembered because she even told me when and why."

"So what's the favor she wants?"

"The cane."

"From me?" he asked.

"Yes. Since I challenged her, I feel obliged to help."

He focused on a spot on the wall. He respected any girl who had the guts to ask for punishment. It showed high self-respect. He was reluctant to let her down, but conflicted. "What does she want to be punished for?"

"She got a double fine and double points for speeding through roadworks. She's annoyed with herself. Because of our conversation, she called to ask if you would have punished me for it."

"You wouldn't speed."

"But if I did, what would I get?"

"Twelve strokes of the cane."

"That's what Amelia should get. It will wake her up."

Still staring at the same spot, his concerns returned. "How would you feel about me punishing one of your friends?"

"I want to help her. It's my fault she even had the idea. Having built up the courage to ask, I'd hate to be left hanging. She can take it. When we broke our curfew at eighteen, we got six strokes over the kitchen table, side by side. With only little strings on, we both got it bare."

The shame of being punished beside her friend had turned her on hard. She'd replayed it for weeks afterwards. She'd had to imagine their exposed and defenseless bottoms as they'd been bent side by side.

"It's different now. Are you sure you want her in her panties bending over the desk in front of me?"

"Put like that, maybe not, but she deserves it and I'd quite like to watch her being all vulnerable and obedient."

"I'm glad you told me that. It helps. Most of all, I want to please you. The sight of a pretty girl bent in her panties will turn me on, and Amelia is attractive."

"I'll forgive you," she said. "You wouldn't be a man, if you didn't enjoy it."

"We must keep it formal to protect all of us. Over my desk is suitable."

"I agree. It can work. Will you do it?" she asked.

He tore his vision from the spot and turned to her. "You're right. Don't leave her hanging. Call her back tonight. Tell her to be here tomorrow at six and warn her I won't tolerate any disobedience."