« Spanking Stories

Louise lay on her cream linen couch, staring over the central city park's lush green tree line. Bought off-plan with her early commission payments, her sixth-floor luxury apartment testified to her success. At twenty-five, she was the building's youngest owner.

Her head uncomfortable on the rolled armrest, she remained still. Cowards didn't deserve comfort. She'd avoided telling Andrew she'd met Chad before. Leaving her boyfriend unaware had exposed him to Chad's immature stupidity. Reluctant to reveal her past meaningless sex, she'd disrespected their fresh relationship.

Ashamed of her untrustworthiness, she'd overcompensated, exacerbating their stand-off. Brewing since last night, he'd walked out on their explosive argument, ruining their Saturday morning.

She sold commercial packaging to corporate customers, but she couldn't sell herself to Andrew following her mistake. Forearmed, he would have handled his crass co-worker. Floating in the wind, he'd floundered, his embarrassment amplifying his anger at her.

Cracks in her fledgling relationship made her appear incapable of love. She'd already imagined Andrew moving in. His brawny arms, hard abs, brilliant legal brain and emotional maturity had attracted her. His friends had welcomed her. She adored Kate. Driven, Ben was amazing company. At flight school upstate, she hadn't met Diane, however her boyfriend Neil made her laugh.

Six months ago, her sales success soaring, she'd needed a proper hard fuck. Chad had delivered a commanding fucking, but wasn't a gentleman. Removing her red Beats headphones from the bookshelf above, she cued her sad YouTube playlist. The opening lyrics took her straight to tears.

'Tomorrow may never be mine' carried her to depths she deserved. The lilting lyrics by a young country music songwriter, Sarah, spread her tears. Plagued with self-doubt, an unexpected YouTube ad had speared her feeble spirit, delivering Sarah's subtle guitar chords into her phone. Upbeat, sad, soulful, Sarah's hypnotic voice had invaded her music playlists.

Shifting her bare feet onto her hexagonal wooden coffee table, her red skinny jeans looked awesome through her tears as Sarah sang 'Yesterday's gone'. A message from Andrew flashed onto her phone. She read it.

Tears spilled down her cheeks. He wanted a relationship ending talk. It was her fault. She deserved to lose him. She'd lacked courage when it counted. Realizing he hadn't dumped her yet, she blew her nose and wiped away her tears. She was her product. Later, she could wallow with Sarah. First, deliver the sale.

Andrew crossed the north corner of the central city park. Expecting platitudes from Kate, she'd delivered a definitive action plan. Her canvas tote bag felt strange in his hand, its contents dead serious. Kate's smile after he'd caned her had raised his confidence. Far from distressing her, his one severe stroke had instilled respect.

Imagining Louise laughing at him, he wavered. Kate's smile filled his mind. She'd seemed certain Louise would appreciate his tough stance. Louise had earned it. She'd dropped him in it. Prepared, he'd have delivered a cool response to Chad. Unprepared, he'd stumbled, increasing the prick's power over him.

Imagining Louise bent over, he hardened. Kate had warned she might leap on him. God, he hoped so. He'd missed her fit body yesterday. Staring at the blue sky, he tried to lose the vision overtaking him. Watching a long white jet trail, he pictured Diane. Did Neil punish her? Did every decent boyfriend?

Taking her elevator to the sixth floor, he decided whatever Louise's reaction, he'd stand his ground, proud of his mature response. Discipline worked for Kate and Ben. Louise ought to understand his decision to punish her mistake and clear the air between them.

Opening her door to him, Louise retreated past her marble kitchen island to her living room, framed by her gorgeous park view. Turning, she said, "Andrew, I'm sorry."

His eyes rose over her red skinny jeans, skimming her cream sleeveless blouse. Reading her apologetic expression, he landed the question Kate had given him. "Do you feel guilty?"

Her face crumbled. "Yes," she exclaimed, astonished by his targeted strike. She hadn't acknowledged guilt powered her pathetic overcompensation. His bullseye unlocked her bottomless pool. "Your co-worker's shit behavior doesn't excuse my obligation to protect our relationship."

"How will you ever stop feeling guilty?" he asked.

Two, Nil. He'd scored another direct hit. Plunged into her destabilizing pool, she groaned, "I wish I knew."

His confidence exploded. Kate had described Louise's reactions like deja vu. "I know," he said.

Struck to silence by his certainty, she stared at him, willing him to ease her agony.

"I'll punish you," he said. Holding her under his heavy gaze, he measured her response. Like a smooth gazelle landing, her head lowered.

In unrealized agreement, she studied her pale oak floor. "I'll accept anything."

He dug into Kate's canvas tote, resting on a black wooden dining chair. Withdrawing the cane, he placed it on her hexagonal coffee table between them. "Even this?"

Her eyes traveled around the crooked-handle, following its authoritative golden rattan shaft. She'd never received physical punishment. Surfacing in her pool of guilt, she craved his tough judgement. Her head rising, she recognized her guilt wouldn't pass with ignorance. It required pain. His determination to punish her resonated with her conscience. "Yes. I deserve a caning."

"Have you ever received a caning?" he asked.

She shook her head. Ignoring her potential pain, she embraced his verdict. She deserved to bend before him.

"It will hurt. More than you imagine." Holding her gaze, he said, "It needs to, doesn't it?"

His targeted attack landed its final flawless shot. She didn't have to sell herself. She need only bend with respect, taking her painful discipline. Her throbbing sex thanked his stern voice. "I suspect I deserve punishment more than I realized," she said. "Please be kind."

"I promise," he said. "But I'll hurt your bottom. It's necessary punishment, not retribution."

His promise spun her heart. She'd wept over them while he'd been sorting out their relationship.

Glancing past her coffee table, its single stone pillar lacking support, he swept the chair from the head of her oak dining table, placing it beside her white marble kitchen island. Picking up the cane, its implicit authority strengthened his voice. "Come here, Louise."

His strict demand drove her feet towards her stern boyfriend. The cane flexing between his palms, her stomach lurched, sloshing her guilt tank. Its potent liquid urged real repercussions.

Flicking his cane through the air, he fired a definitive whistle through her apartment. She flinched. Shivers shocked her soul as reality plunged through her core. She was getting caned. Serious pain inflicted on her gorgeous bottom. Flicking up her gaze, his eyes burned into her, holding her under his command. Trust bolstered her fear.

"Drop your jeans," he ordered.

Grateful for her task assignment, her fingers unsnapped the silver button on her red stretch-cotton jeans. Unzipping them, she glanced at him, searching for confirmation.

"I expect humble obedience," he said. Unsure from where he'd drawn his commanding authority, his strict control fit their serious situation.

Returning to her task, his firm words drove down her jeans. Standing in her cream blouse and bright-red string bikini panties, she felt humble. He'd demanded her obedience. She'd given it. Overt obedience should have embarrassed her, but submerged in guilt, positive penance felt perfect.

Tapping her dining table with the cane tip, he commanded, "Bend over."

Her sex lunged for his strict command. Pleasurable heat drove her to her dining table. Placing her feet in stable positions, she bent over the cool oak, leaning her soft sleeves on its solid surface.

"Well done, Louise. I'm proud of you."

His praise plunged satisfaction through her body, suffusing her exposed skin. Seeking to regain her self-respect and his forgiveness, her position conveyed the humble obedience he'd demanded.

The cane tapped her cotton. Bright red panties were her favorite. Purple, green, brilliant blue and red accompanied her everywhere beneath her sharp business suits. Brightness guaranteed her confidence. Shunning white or black, unless a discrete string suited a sensational dress, she wasn't certain her sales relied on dazzling underwear, but was reluctant to experiment with her success.

"Your duty was to respect our relationship. You should have warned me."

Her head dipped. Staring at her tabletop, she said, "You're right. I'm sorry. I was weak."

Drenched in sweet humility, she reached back. Sliding her fingers under the tight red elastic at her hips, she slid her panties to her thighs.

Her proud submission cut through his soul. Desperate to hold her forever, he said, "Good girl."

Pride burst through her, spreading pleasurable surrender through her rosy skin.

"Six stokes," he said.

Ten, twelve, twenty. She'd take any punishment, he declared. His compelling voice clenched her sex. His cane tapped her right cheek, settling across both.

She clenched her cheeks, knowing they were about to burst into unimaginable pain. Relaxing, a crisp crack burst through her apartment. Sting bit into her bare backside. Fire sliced across her bottom, her cheeks competing for their prize of piercing pain. Flinging her fingers to their far reaches, brutal heat roared through her burning backside as she struggled to contain her suffering.

Rattan snapped into her skin, challenging her courage. Flames burst above her fire-red panties, blazing a pure track across her bareness. She panted, determined not to cry out. Hissing her pain away, she craved his respect, forgiveness and their future. But fuck, her bottom hurt.

The cane tapped its warning. She met its fury with heartfelt remorse. Waves of profound pleasure stormed the wall of punishing heat from her caned backside. Her sex celebrated his decisive authority. Pain punished, pleasure flourished.

Her poor judgement welcomed his searing strokes. Flaming lines of fiery fury burned into her bare bottom. Heat spread, pain deepening as each stroke escalated her anguish. Panting through her punishing pain, she respected each application of incredible agony.

An hour ago, she'd wallowed in tears, her imagination miles from here. His severe strokes stole her guilt, replacing it with phenomenal pride.

"Stand up, Louise. It's over."

Obeying his direction, her passion surged. "Thank you for letting me apologize. I can't believe you've just caned me. But I'm glad you did." Six burning ridges adorning her bare bottom, she said, "I'm sorry I failed you. Thank you for punishing me."

Her honesty sliced into his soul as she stood exposed, thanking him for thrashing her bare bottom. Pain obvious on her beautiful face, her last apology closed the matter. He drew her into his arms, the cane clattering to her oak floor.

Stroking her back through her transparent cream blouse, he said, "You're forgiven, forever."

"Do we have forever?" she whispered.

"If you'll have me," he murmured into her blonde tresses, his heart melding to hers.

"Stay strict," she said.

"Deal."

Stroking his manhood through his jeans, she said, "Your toughness turned me on."

Feeling him harden further, she shoved her jeans free from her ankles, discarding her panties. Pulling him to her bedroom, she sprawled across her four-poster bed, its empty modern frame defining her pleasure zone.

Touching herself, she panted her pleasure as he shed his jeans and shirt. She spread her legs in shameless exposure before her imposing man. His boxers gone, his hardness demanded her obedience. He unbuttoned her blouse as she freed her breasts. Flinging aside her bra, he rose over her, driving his manhood deep inside her desperate sex.

"You enjoyed it. Didn't you?" he whispered, his accusing voice teasing rich pleasure in her sex.

"Yes," she screamed, his manhood piercing her mind.

"Not too much, I hope," he growled.

"Oh god, no. It fucking hurt," she cried.

"It should."

"You punished me well," she panted. "Kind, but cruel."

He commanded her body, lifting her pleasure inch by desperate inch, making her obey his manhood as her stripes stung against her sheets. Excruciating pleasure intertwined with exquisite pain. She pushed her nipples towards him. His tongue teased them with tiny flicks as his hardness powered deep strokes inside her. Rammed against the edge of her rationality, she grasped for control, losing it as he erupted deep in her body. Yelling his name, she exploded a barrage of stupendous orgasms, each cascading down her long legs, whisking her pleasure away as soft bliss settled over her.

She grinned as he dropped beside her.

"Where did you get that idea?"

"Kate."

She laughed. The cane-carrying tote bag made perfect sense. It hadn't registered during their crucial conversation.

"So, she gets caned?"

He nodded.

Realization struck her. She'd wallowed in misery while an extraordinary girl-friend had saved her relationship. "I owe Kate," she said. "She went beyond friendship for us."

"Maybe you'd enjoy returning her cane."

She grinned.

Placing her delicate palm on his solid chest, she said. "When we disagree, you're in charge. If you order my punishment, I'll obey you. Wait until our unfortunate argument has dissipated. Then, whatever I say, thrash me. I give you unconditional permission."

His heart raced under her soft hand. Her solemn words struck him silent, her respect palpable.

"Thank you," he said. Leaning in, he kissed her, keeping her lips until neither of them could breathe.

His sweet kiss still tingling her tender lips, she said, "Move in with me."