« Spanking Stories

Kate opened her apartment door as Louise, blushing, handed over her beige canvas tote bag containing her trusted cane.

Kate smiled. Taking the bag, she leaned it against her kitchen bar. "Was it terrible?"

"Brilliant and dreadful," Louise said, recalling her sublime submission to Andrew.

Kate grinned. "Sounds like he did a decent job."

"He was awesome," Louise gushed. "He made me feel awful. Shared with him, my feelings settled. He ordered me to bend over. I was desperate to comply. Silly, considering the pain."

Kate poured two coffees. Reading Louise's message, she'd set her coffee machine brewing. Girl company had delighted her. Ben was improving his hair product in his hired lab. Louise's bright eyes danced in her sweet smile. As a rapid teacher, she gave herself full marks. Andrew had carried his girlfriend over her emotional threshold, delivering effective discipline.

Serving their coffees, she took her favorite stool. She'd educated Andrew in her kitchen, taking a significant risk. Louise's obvious delight rewarded her. "Where did he make you bend?" she asked. 

"He swept a chair aside and ordered me over my dining table. Powerless to argue, I obeyed. He'd already stripped me to my panties."

"Punishment is a powerful force."

"Kate, thank you for whatever you said to him. I'm sure he told you the entire story."

"He did. You screwed up. Nothing a striped backside couldn't solve."

Louise grinned. "I'm still sore. He caned me hard." She'd kept examining her fading marks in her bedroom mirror. Proof of his firm control planted on her cheeks, she'd masturbated with every inspection of his valuable work.

"It's tricky for guys to stay tough," Kate said. "I'm proud of him."

"Me too," Louise said. "We've moved in together."

"Darn, girl. You move fast," Kate said. Her compliment genuine, her surprise wasn't. Ben's promise to cane her had propelled her into his arms. His serious delivery only sealing their fate.

"Does it... mmm." Louise hesitated. 

"Does it turn me on?" Kate grinned, completing the question hanging between them. "I'd never come hard before Ben caned me. Pure, punishing pain proves his macho power. Unafraid to discipline me, he deserves my submission. Humble pride in taking my pain merges with its sensational sting, guaranteeing a magnificent climax."

Louise blushed. "I keep thinking about it."

"Relive it. Enjoy yourself," Kate said. "The cane doesn't strike you less hard because his powerful dominance provides pleasure. You've received a severe punishment. It hurt you as it must. Enjoy your obedience."

She shifted her itchy legs on her stool, glad of her soft black leggings. Ben's personal punishment strokes still teased her tender thighs. "Last week, Ben whipped me for an unreasonable office attitude. He sent me to strip two supple switches from those hazel trees you'll have walked past."

Louise gasped.

Kate grinned. "I'm still enjoying my incredible embarrassment." She'd come hard while waiting for Louise. Her leggings around her ankles, she'd traced each faint impression on her slender thighs, remembering Ben's commanding authority.

Louise's sex clenched, compelling her to change position. She couldn't imagine her neighbors knowing Andrew punished her. She pictured refusing to obey him. It wasn't an option. "I gave Andrew permission to punish me as he sees fit."

Kate's eyebrows shot up. 

"Was that dumb?" Louise begged.

"The opposite," Kate said. "Intelligent and mature. It'll neutralize nonsense."

"He dragged me from my pit of despair, bent me over my dining table and made me feel wonderful."

Climbing from her stool, Kate drew her wise friend into a tight embrace. "I'm pleased for you. I couldn't watch you two screw it up."

Six was too mild. Condemning herself to twelve imaginary cane strokes, Louise's soaking sex thanked her as she rubbed her solid clit. Weekday morning sunshine radiated across her modern four-poster bed. She'd taken paid time off to indulge herself. Kate's conversation yesterday had overflowed her effervescent mind. She needed to stabilize herself.

Slow strokes teased her slicked lips as she returned to her clit, burying herself in bursts of imagined agony, pretending Andrew was caning her for lying. Wide red panty elastic stretched over her hand as pleasure mounted in her sporty string bikini panties. The tight grip of their waistband felt secure, their cheeky cut vulnerable. She had ten red pairs, ten green, ten purple, ten bright blue and an abundance of skimpy striped and patterned panties, but red was her firm favorite. She'd washed this exact pair yesterday. Actual rattan had tapped the red cotton covering her cheeks. His severe stick beat pretend pain for imaginary lying. Pleasure jolted into her panties, forcing phenomenal orgasms over her fingers.

Wandering into her kitchen in her red panties, she discovered coffee ready, a side benefit of having a boyfriend. Pouring herself a mug, she savored it, gazing at her dining table, eating relegated to its secondary purpose.

Discarding her mug, she swept aside the dining chair and bent into position in rapid response to his imagined command. Shoving her hand into her panties, her fingers headed for her hardened clit. Flicking her tender nub, she circled herself, her spare arm pushed into the table, her nipples forbidden pleasure as she held her subservient position.

In her mind, she'd got drunk. Sober for her correction, he'd ordered her over her oak dining table for eighteen severe stokes. Scolding herself, she dreamed of his stern voice. Her thighs crashed into her table, orgasms wracking her body. Convulsing in pure pleasure, she fell onto her firm oak, her hand clamped between her throbbing thighs.

Chiding herself, she remembered she'd granted her restless mind a full day of masturbation to cure her constant excitement. Pleasure was today's purpose.

Returning to her bedroom, she opened her lingerie drawer. Touching different colored panties, she imagined getting caned in them, their thin cotton providing limited protection. Heat grew in her groin. She ignored it. A pile of patterned panties shone from her drawer. Reaching beneath, she unearthed plain black and plain white ones she never wore. With her sales success built on her trademark bright panties, she didn't wish to test her successful strategy.

Extracting a pair of boring white bikini panties, she spread them on her chest of drawers. What if he ordered her to wear them? Feeling fine cotton between her fingers, her sex demanded strict answers. Retreating to her bed, she lay staring across at her white cotton bikini panties, fingering her clit. If he demanded her difficult compliance, she'd step into them, slide them up her long legs, loving their monumental significance.

Leaping up, she shoved off her sexy red, taking her white panties to her en-suite bathroom. Watching in the mirror, she stepped into her undesirable panties, one obedient leg at a time. Sliding up her thighs, plain cotton snapped into place, clamping his authority around her hips. Returning to her bed, her fingers admired her tricky obedience. She imagined walking into a client meeting; her ordered panties beneath her smart suit.

Desperate to feel his forceful authority, she jumped up, snatching her sexy black suit from her walk-in closet. Her thigh-skimming, fierce skirt signed deals. Its matching three-button black blazer teased her hemline, highlighting her long bare legs, only revealing her bottom when she removed it. A move which brought deals over the line at month's end.

Unhooking her skirt from its hanger, she slid the black stretch fabric into place, adding her blazer over bare breasts. Shirtless, she marched across her bedroom, pretending it was a client's office, her disagreeable panties driving distinct pleasure under her tight skirt. Hitching up her fierce fabric, she leaned against her bedroom wall, plundering powerful pleasure from her extreme obedience.

Commanded by her man when he wasn't present, her sex throbbed. In her plain panties, she felt like a punished schoolgirl. Fresh from flagrant disobedience, her tight white bikini panties taught her his tough lesson. Fortified by his cane, her forced restriction thrilled her.

Caned to start her day, her ordered obedience wove a web of fantastic fantasy. Instructed to strip and prove her compliance, shock-waves exploded down her legs. Delicious delirium tore her feet from her as pleasure pulsated from her unexpected source. Squeezing her thighs to contain fierce orgasms, she slithered down her wall, landing on her bedroom floor.

She slept the entire afternoon, her body expunged of orgasms. Tender beef slow-simmering to a stew for dinner, she opened her mac notebook on the white marble kitchen island, flicking through her work messages.

An iMessage from Kate provided a link to where she'd got her cane. Clicking it, smooth punishing rattan filled her screen, lighting fresh fires in her delighted sex. She needed that cane on her bottom and in her home. Adding it to her basket, she explored. A cute reddish leather paddle pleased her. It seemed kind, necessary cruelty built-in. Imagining its impact on her bare skin, she added it to her basket.

Andrew's key in her door surged through her heart, proclaiming her simple girlish excitement at his return. Abandoning her mac, she leaped into his arms, kissing him as he held her high, her legs wrapped around his waist. Light as a feather, she floated. He settled her on her kitchen island, her sleek black leggings dangling to her pretty feet. She glanced up, but his gaze was on her screen.

"I've been researching where to buy a cane," he said.

"That's where Kate bought hers. I've already ordered ours. I also found a cute oval-shaped leather paddle for a sympathetic spanking if I'm less deserving."

"You're fucking hot," he growled, hauling her against his suit-constrained hardness.

"Down, tiger," she grinned, stroking him through his navy pants. "I've made us beef stew."

Slipping off the island, she landed on her pale oak floor, her heart as light as her body.

During dinner, she described the plan she'd dreamed up in her afternoon sleep. Her brain obsessed, she'd awoken imagining a formal list of offenses guaranteed to result in her punishment. Tapping on her laptop, she wrote their agreed offenses, each on a separate line as she ate her stew.

"We won't assign punishments. That's your job," she said.

"Okay. Add rudeness to your list."

Typing his addition, her sex agreed a surly attitude must sting her bottom.

"Lying deserves to be on our list," she said, not waiting for his agreement. Her sex fluttered light pleasure at their shared purpose.

"Excessive drinking," he proposed.

She typed it on a fresh line. "Who defines excessive?"

"I do," he said.

She smiled, his grim tone thrilling her agreeable sex. Twenty unacceptable items on their list, she named it 'Formal List' and hit print.

Returning from her home office, she presented him with their list. "Formal means formal," she said. "We both commit to our list. It's not a suggestion nor exhaustive. You punish me on your terms. Tremendous forgivable circumstances may call for mitigation, but if my offense exists on our formal list, you thrash me without mercy. If we permit excuses, our list loses its significance. That would disappoint me."

He grimaced, but didn't want to disappoint her. "It may require us both to remain resolute."

"I'm committed," she said.

"Me too."

"I'll sign our list," she said. Grabbing a blue pen from the kitchen, she pledged to bend her obedient body, never their rules, passing him her pen.

Beside her penmanship, he wrote his legal signature, accepting her impassioned plea to enforce the sanctity of their rules. He'd cane her or test that beautiful leather spanker he'd seen on her screen.

Placing their Formal List in a kitchen drawer under her recipe book, she dragged him towards her couch. "Play with me. Pretend I've been rude. A hot bottom stimulates us both and my cane lines are fading fast."

Shifting her soft cashmere blanket, he sat on the expansive cream footstool of her couch. Gripping her wrist, he yanked her down over his lap.

Forced over his knee, she planted her hands on the floor for support. Her sex rammed his solid thigh, flooding dangerous heat through her core. Hot palms caressed her sexy bum through her skin-tight leggings.

"That was rude, Louise."

His tough tone buried lust in her bones.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice packed with profound remorse, although her offense imaginary.

His fingers slid into her waistband. She lifted her hips as he glided her leggings to her ankles. Revealing her vivid green panties.

His hard palm burst fresh sting on her behind. Sound spanks followed on both cheeks as she panted through genuine pain. His large palm slammed into her soft flesh, spanking the underside of her bare bottom, where her panties offered scant protection. Panting under his palm, she admired his unrelenting assault on her rude cheeks. Heat spread across her skin, stinging sense into her silliness. Damn. It was a proper spanking.

"You should be ashamed of your choice of words," he said.

His stern scolding plunged into her sex, throbbing through her core as she edged towards a fearsome orgasm. He parted her legs, raining hard spanks on her defenseless thighs. The increased pain blew her mind, rocketing her shame and deepest submission. The personal attack on her private skin triggered an avalanche of orgasms. Thrusting her hips against his hard thighs, she came, an endless cascade of constant pleasure crashing down her punished legs, promising him her soul.

He swept her into his arms and lay her on her red and blue square-patterned rug. She kicked off her leggings, her cycling feet stimulating her recovering sex. He burst from his suit, his white boxers stretched by his solid hardness. Baring his manhood, his solid body crushed her to the floor. Bypassing her panties, he thrust her along her rug towards the window. She spread her hands to arrest her slide, forcing his hardness deep as her spanked bottom stung.

"You spanked me for rudeness," she moaned.

"On your bare thighs," he groaned, thrusting her forward.

His muscular arms rammed into the floor behind her shoulders, keeping her in place as his manhood demanded her body. She gave herself, pressing her desperate hips into him. He detonated her core, releasing a torrent of orgasms as she gripped his bum tight, flexing through her stunning pleasure.

Falling onto her multicolored rug, he relaxed, his fingers teasing her outstretched palm. "Punishment sure turns you on."

"Submitting to you blows my mind," she said. "Damn a spanking stings."

"Fun or formal, I'll always punish you hard."

Wrapped in his warm promise, she exhaled.