« Spanking Stories

« Rebecca, Melody, Sarah


15. For Girls

Spanking Story


After ignoring her boss, a female architect visits a disciplinarian

«Beginning Part 16»


Sarah ignored her ringing iPhone. It wasn't hers; it was her business phone. She'd purchased a second iPhone for her discipline business and signed up an account with the local paper to advertise online and in the paper edition. But she couldn't answer another call. She hated it. The phone rang until it went to voicemail.

Her first customer had been a guy. She hadn't expected it, but her ad hadn't specified who the service was for. In fact, she'd struggled so much to write her ad that it hadn't crossed her mind. He'd been pleasant enough. In his thirties, clean and of moderate height, their discussion beforehand had been her first warning. He hadn't wished to engage over what he'd done, just get punished for it.

She'd dealt with him. The next guy hadn't wanted to discuss his actions, either. Not knowing the reasons behind their offenses, or even the offense itself, left her unable to deliver decent discipline. After each session, she'd felt wretched. Her customers had left content, but they'd left her distraught, uncertain if she'd been fair to them, certain she hadn't been fair to herself. She couldn't do this.

The small stack of cash on the kitchen shelf beside the window, just above where she'd stuck her list of skills, showed she hadn't been a total fool. She had a skill; the money proved it. She'd already covered the cost of the ad with just two customers, but she couldn't face a third.

Wandering into the study, she opened the window to let fresh air in and clear the memory of her customers. Opening both doors of the implement cupboard to air it too, she saw the cane and paddle she'd used. She'd executed the punishment well in both cases.

Making a peanut butter sandwich for lunch, she took it out into the garden, leaving both her phones in the kitchen. The pile of cash was modest, but she'd produced it. She was still proud of that. She'd survived on the streets. The comforts of the house had made her soft. She could close her mind long enough to deal with each customer. It didn't have to satisfy her, she just had to do it.

Her mental whipping complete, she washed up and set some french fries cooking in the fryer. A bowl of fries was just what she needed. The business phone rang. She braced herself and answered it. A soft, female voice soothed her ear.

"Good afternoon. Do you see girls?"

"Yes," she replied, her enthusiasm almost getting the better of her.

"I misconstrued the instructions my boss gave me, you see. He wanted a concept drawing for a bridge. It's for an elegant lakeside home and I thought he was asking for a bridge over the river for the entrance, but he required me to imagine and draw the wooden walking bridge over the garden stream. I misread the brief, and when I showed my designs in front of the client, I made my boss and myself look stupid."

"What's your name?" Sarah asked.

"Scarlett," the girl said.

"And what do you do, Scarlett?"

"Oh, sorry. I'm a trainee architect. I should have mentioned that."

"It's no problem. No problem at all. When would you prefer to visit? I can offer you this evening or tomorrow afternoon."

She didn't have any clients. She could offer any time, but it seemed better to sound busy.

"Oh gosh. Could I come tonight please?"

"Of course, 5pm or 7pm?"

Scarlett chose 7pm, and Sarah told her how to find her.

Putting her phone down on the kitchen table, she raised the basket of fries from the machine and tipped them into a bowl. She felt altogether better about Scarlett. She understood the girl's predicament, and she hadn't even had to ask.

Changing an hour before Scarlett arrived, she put on the tailored black pants she'd bought for her job. Paired with a white blouse, they gave off an air of authority which felt appropriate.

Answering the door, she found a beautiful blonde girl in her twenties in a black miniskirt suit. She steered her into the front room and offered her the couch.

Taking the armchair, she said, "It's nice to meet you Scarlett."

Her warm welcome seemed to put the girl at ease.

"Will you punish me hard?" Scarlett asked.

"I don't have to punish you at all. We can just talk it through, but to get the desired effect, it needs to hurt."

The blonde nodded. "It took courage to come here."

"I know," Sarah said. "Believe me, I know. But you're here now. Tell me about this bridge."

"Oh god," Scarlett groaned. "I'm such an idiot. I was so eager to see what I imagined the brief said, I assumed facts not in evidence. My boss was so annoyed with me. I checked afterwards, read the brief again, and it said none of the things I'd read into it."

"Was the bridge concept you drew, suitable for the entrance?"

Scarlett perked up. "Yes. That made me feel worse. He's going to use it. He declared it striking and unique."

"So some good came out of this?"

"Yes, but I still caused my boss and I to appear incompetent in front of the client. My excellent work should only make you punish me harder for my inattention."

Assuming the tone she'd first tried with Kirsten, Sarah said, "Scarlett, you need punishing because you rushed ahead assuming, instead of reading the brief with care."

"Yes," Scarlett said, appreciating the older girl's stern manner.

"And you made your boss look like an idiot in front of his client."

On the edge of the couch, Scarlett straightened her posture. "Yes, I did."

"I'm going to punish you, Scarlett. It will hurt and leave you sore for a few days."

"H-how will you punish me?" The girl asked.

"Six strokes of the rattan cane across your panties."

"Oh," Scarlett said.

Sarah watched her client process the news. She couldn't force the girl to take it, but knew for certain it would rid her of the guilt weighing her down.

"Are you prepared to accept your punishment?" she asked.

Scarlett pictured the meeting room and the consternation on her boss's face. Ashamed of how arrogant she'd been, the cane felt deserved. She'd imagined maybe a spanking, but she should get a meaningful punishment. She might struggle to handle the cane, but a bottom so sore it hurt while she worked felt appropriate.

"Yes. I deserve it," she said.

Standing, Sarah said, "Come with me."

Scarlett followed as she led the way to the study. She liked the trainee architect. Her angst was obvious, guilt pouring off her. It was a problem she could fix.

"Stand in front of the desk," she instructed, her voice clear and firm.

Scarlett obeyed.

Sarah opened the cupboard door and pulled out the thin cane. The thick one was for serious transgressions. Applied to Scarlet's butt, the flex in the slender rattan would deliver plenty of pain. Closing the cupboard, she handed the cane to the younger girl.

She wasn't that much younger. Maybe four or five years.

Scarlett asked, "How much will it hurt?"

"More than you wish, but not more than you can handle," Sarah assured her. "It must be difficult, it's punishment after all, and you deserve it."

Scarlett nodded, giving back the cane. "I feel sorry, just looking at it, knowing it has to hurt me."

"That's good," Sarah said. "Facing up to your punishment is half the battle. You must obey me and stay in position until I instruct you to stand up."

Scarlett looked around her. "Will I bend over here?" she said, pointing at the desk.

"Yes," Sarah said. "But first take off your suit jacket and pop it on the chair." She waved towards the straight backed wooden chair to the side of the desk.

Jacketless, Scarlett returned to her spot in front of the desk.

Sarah said, "Instructions from your boss deserve to be read with care." She was rather proud of that. It was a perfect opening.

Scarlett lowered her head in shame, showing the admonishment had achieved its goal.

"Completing the drawings without checking you were on track was negligent and arrogant."

Scarlett nodded. She'd felt the same. Guilt at her ego had been weighing her down when she'd seen the helpful ad buried in a local news article she'd been reading on her phone.

"Take off your skirt," Sarah commanded. She didn't want the girl to crease her lovely suit.

Reaching to the side zip, Scarlett obeyed, stepping out of the short skirt and placing it on the chair with her jacket. Exposed in her white blouse and brief black panties, embarrassment at her diminished stature washed over her.

"Your work didn't go to waste, but that piece of luck doesn't mitigate your arrogance. It only illustrates it." Sarah said.

Scarlett met Sarah's hard gaze. The humiliation of standing in her panties and being scolded like a young girl sent rich shivers down her spine.

"Bend over," Sarah commanded.

Scarlett obeyed. Facing the desk and lowering herself right over it, she clutched the far edge. This was awful, as awful as it ought to be. Fear and shame washed in rivers through her as she offered her black cotton bikini panties for the cane.

Sarah leveled the cane across the girl's bottom. She appreciated how embarrassing it felt to be bent over and how vital it was to deliver a tough punishment. She'd ensure Scarlett remembered this for a long time.

Giving her wrist an extra flick, she snapped the cane into the center of Scarlett's cheeks. The younger girl let out a yelp and panted as the pain shot into her bottom. Sarah gave her a full minute to experience all the intensity of the stroke and fear the next before tapping the cane in warning.

Scarlett stilled. Sarah gave her wrist an extra firm flick as she brought the cane in to land right below the previous stroke. Her precision pleased her. She'd spent hours with the pillow, getting her strokes accurate. Scarlett's mute response pleased her far more. It was proof of the utmost maturity. Taking a single stroke of the cane in silence took immense inner strength. Inside the girl's mind, she'd be tormenting herself and the struggle would consume her instead of her guilt.

"Picture your boss's face in that meeting," she scolded. She knew the value of being forced to examine your offense while you suffered.

Laying on the strokes with ever harder power, she admired the blonde girl as she took her punishment with grace. She considered if Scarlett's offense warranted tough strokes where she'd sit and concluded it did. An uncomfortable reminder while at work was the exact medicine.

Tapping the cane against the sensitive crease between Scarlett's bottom and legs, she said, "These last two must hurt the worst. You're going to regret your actions every time you sit for a few days."

Scarlet's black panties pushed out to meet the cane as Sarah rested it across the girl's bare skin below them. Sarah raised her arm and whipped the flexible rattan into Scarlett's sensitive skin. The girl cried out, but stayed in position.

"One more," Sarah warned. She thrashed the stroke into the same sensitive area, just above the last.

The burning band of heat tore across Scarlett's rear as she held onto the desk for all she was worth. The searing pain in her backside drove sorrow through her mind. She regretted her impetuous attitude and embraced the excruciating pain.

"Stand up," Sarah directed.

Scarlett stood and turned to face her.

"I expect you to take your lesson with you this week. Let it do its work. You earned your caning. Endure the discomfort of your office chair with a healthy dose of self-respect. You earned a severe punishment, but you've taken it. Well done."

"Thank you," Scarlett said. "I can't believe I just thanked you, but I feel so much better."

Sarah smiled. It was how it should be.

"You took your punishment well, Scarlett. I'm proud of you. Get dressed."

Carrying her cash into the kitchen, Sarah stacked it separate from the other pile. With a brief hug, she'd sent Scarlett on her way. The girl was adamant she would never again rush ahead without reading a brief.

Grabbing her laptop, she logged into her advertising account and altered her ad to specify the service was for girls. The online ad updated right away. The print one would change next time it ran. She'd answer the phone with pleasure and turn down any guys who called. She only dealt with girls.

Over the ensuing weeks, she had appointments every day, sometimes three. She employed a huge cookie tin to hold the cash. When Kirsten came round, she showed her the original full tin and the second one, with a layer of notes already covering the bottom.

Proud of her business, she showed her friend the successful ad in her online account. The screen displayed a powerful example, with the striking blue border she'd chosen with care. Nipping into the lounge to close the curtains, she didn't see Kirsten snap a quick photo of the ad with her phone.