« Spanking Stories

Belle, head of Human Resources, smiled at Hair Air staff, spreading morning greetings. Approaching her CEO's office, she hoped her appraisal would make her smile. It should. She felt she'd discharged bold, contemporary wisdom to their crew, guiding individuals towards success. Stratospheric growth brought tough challenges. They'd onboarded crew at a phenomenal rate.

Entering Ben's office, her gaze darted towards his broad desk. Profound reverence tingled down her spine. Guilty of disgusting voyeurism, he'd punished her for watching Kate's private thrashing in his office. Stripped to her underwear in front of Kate, her atrocious invasion of privacy justified her humiliation. In bubblegum pink bralette and thong panties, she'd stood before him, receiving a fierce scolding. Bent over his desk, her bare cheeks had suffered twelve appropriate cane strokes.

Helpless to share her strict desires with her boyfriend, Brandon, Ben's caning had fueled her fantasies. Last night, she'd cheated on her boyfriend during sex. She'd imagined getting a devastating appraisal, her boss's tongue-lashing whipping her conscience. Brought to heel, he'd bent her over his desk, her bare bottom displayed in white thong panties this time. His imaginary cane strokes had induced an explosive climax, flooding her with sickening guilt.

Waved towards the couches, she sat.

Ben sat opposite. "Belle, your unconventional advice keeps careers on track."

"Any criticisms?" Her guilty sex prayed he'd find fault with her professional performance, something worthy of strict spanking.

"No Belle, none." His savvy HR manager had suggested Jenna request strict discipline. Their entire marketing success rested on that single, smart, human decision. "I'm proud of you. Would you accept the title of Chief Crew Officer?"

"Y.. Yes, please," she spluttered. She hadn't expected public recognition. Her title represented fabulous status.

"Your salary rises to two hundred fifty thousand. I'm giving bonuses next month." He explained the scheme. "Yours will reflect your new salary."

"Thank you, Ben."

"You've earned it. Can I support you better?"

Basking in her newfound status, wallowing in its financial rewards, guilt strangled her satisfaction. She blurted, "You could punish me."

Ben nodded. He'd witnessed the exceptional corrective power of punishment administered to guilty female psyches. His school crush Chrissy had implored him to strap her to escape a worse punishment. Kate had welcomed his rattan cane, her blatant white panties on their train begging for it. Jenna's course correction from his cane had revolutionized their marketing. Belle's humiliation and suffering had accounted for her discordant behavior. "Why would I punish you?" Opposite him, her mat-coated skinny jeans squirmed. He doubted she'd intended to speak her mind. Hovering between them, he wouldn't allow her embarrassment to retract her request. "Spit it out, Belle. Don't hide."

Ashamed, she studied her knees. She should follow through. Her subconscious had dressed her for punishment. This morning, she'd chosen her high-cut g-string, its front black lace panel styled with contrasting cream elastic. Slim cream strings boosted her vulnerability. If ordered to strip, she'd feel her exposure. "Kate advised me to tell my boyfriend I benefit from spanking. Yet, after you'd caned me, I hid my punishment in my pajamas. My shorts cover my bottom. I was too embarrassed to tell Brandon I needed it."

He nodded, encouraging her.

"Last night, I imagined getting caned today for substandard performance."

Hardening his tone, he said, "I wouldn't have hesitated."

His solid threat vibrated her obedient sex. She smiled. "I'd have accepted it."

He fixed her with his stern gaze. "Imagining it isn't a crime."

She met his gaze. "During sex with my boyfriend?"

"Ahh."

She nodded.

He considered her plight, watching her fidget under his scrutiny. "Deceitfulness doesn't suit you, Belle. It's clear you know your behavior was wrong. It's a personal matter. However, your guilt is hindering your professional performance. See me at 6pm."

"Thank you," she said, calm engulfing her entire body. She hadn't planned this, but she needed it.

"Kate will be present. It's appropriate."

She nodded. His beautiful co-founder had hired her. She respected Kate. Failing to follow her advice, she almost needed Kate to witness her punishment.

After her performance review, she messaged Brandon about her new title, salary and bonus, getting fitting boyfriend responses. She improved foreign job advertisements, translating terms, checking their accuracy. Promised punishment, genuine calm enveloped her day. Her bare bottom in her tight mat-coated jeans felt more bare as her punishment approached. She couldn't believe she'd blurted out her thoughts. However, punished for her shameless deceit, she'd feel better.

Five minutes before six, she combed the ninth floor, checking it was clear. Ben and Kate knew her shame. She couldn't bear others' discovering. She'd cheated on her boyfriend. Punished, she'd respect herself again. Her bare girl flesh must pay for her crime. Entering Ben's office, she returned Kate's smile. "I still can't tell Brandon, Kate."

"I understand," Kate said. "It isn't easy. Ben told me about last night. I hope you're ready to show you're sorry."

"Very ready. I feel shit."

"I'm afraid you deserve the cane, Belle." Nodding towards Ben, she said, "Face him."

Turning, Belle's heart thumped. The pale cane quivered in his hand, promising keen speed. Her stomach clenched, loaded with nervous fear. Standing before Ben, she clasped her hands, keeping them still.

"Belle, your cheating deserves maximum shame," he said.

His male criticism sunk into her, eradicating any lingering doubts. She must suffer. Even her boss thought so.

"Strip to your underwear."

Her humble hands undid her tight, mat-coated skinny jeans. He was right. Shoving them down her slender legs, she stepped from her shoes, removing her smooth jeans. Skimming her skinny black jumper over her head, she gathered her jeans, folding both on his couch arm.

Her minimal underwear suited her monstrous transgression. Facing him, her slender cream strings highlighted her nakedness. Her black lace offered only basic modesty. Beneath her delicate lace bra panels, humiliation hardened her nipples.

"You cheated on your boyfriend," Ben said. Kate had urged him to scold Belle hard and thrash her without mercy. "You took a flight of fancy, leaving him behind. It's dishonest. You risk tearing your relationship apart."

Belle flinched. His verbal whipping lashed her bare skin. It was her fault. She'd failed to summon the courage to face her boyfriend and admit she needed punishing.

"You need caning, Belle. Twelve strokes. I'll concentrate your entire punishment low on your bottom, making sitting uncomfortable for days."

She absorbed her stiff sentence. It fit her heinous breach of trust.

He pointed his cane towards a spot on the carpet midway between him and Kate. "Face the window. Touch your toes."

Her bare feet padded forward. She bent, shame cascading down her core. Bending further than his desk had allowed, her tough position humbled her. Touching her toes, her toned thighs tensed. Guilt pooled in her head.

Kate watched Belle, her friend's repentance, plain. She'd noticed Belle's proud nipples. It happened to her too. It wouldn't last. Pleasure couldn't prevent pain.

Belle forgot her tense thighs. The cane tapped her lower butt. She pressed her fingers into her feet, anticipating her pain. The cane hissed, exploding into her tight flesh. Fire chased across her cheeks. She yelled, clamping her cry in her teeth as she pressed her agony into her toes. She remembered Brandon's hardness deep inside her treacherous sex. Desperate shame boosted her bravery.

The cane struck hard below her existing fire, spreading her burn. Heat erupted from her fresh stripe, soaring beside its fellow fire, boosting both. She kept her obedient fingers on her bare toes, agony seeping into her being.

The rattan ruled tight lines across her lower cheeks. Panting into her flaring pain, she welcomed its punishing power. She'd cheated. Brandon deep inside, her mind had abandoned her boyfriend, stealing pleasure from a distant source.

Kate watched her friend. Belle's face scrunched, intense agony written across her beautiful features. Willing her courage, she admired her friend's stringent obedience.

Ben said, "Belle, your bottom hurts because you've been duplicitous."

She shuddered. His chilling words helped. Undeniable truth upheld her dignified agony. The cane slithered down her legs, tapping her thighs. Rampant fear exploded. She couldn't hide her bare legs.

"If you cheat again," Ben said, "I'll cane your thighs. Your pajama shorts won't cover your marks."

She swallowed her narrow escape. "Thank you, sir." His toughness saturated her sex. Sliding back up, the cane leveled off in the crease above her legs.

"Keep still."

Warning received, she strengthened her resolve. The rattan struck. Pain engulfed her. The flexible stick laid another blazing track across her taut, tender skin. Her teeth sank into her soft lip. The cane concluded its cruel trio, searing savage fire. She relinquished her wounded lip, surrendering to her soaring sting. Her flaming threesome would keep delivering exceptional hurt.

Ben watched his Chief Crew Officer hold her dutiful position. "Commendable obedience, Belle. Stand, please."

She struggled upwards. Her stripes tightened together. She gasped.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" he said.

Nodding, she said, "Thank you for punishing me."

"My pleasure. Do you feel better? Sorry, stupid question."

She grinned. "I'd rather my bottom hurt than my heart."

Admiring her spirit, he said, "You'll feel very sore for a while."

"I deserve it," she said. "Thank you, Ben."

She faced Kate, "Thanks, Kate."

Smiling, Kate said, "If he thrashes your thighs, you won't escape your tough conversation with Brandon. Better to choose your timing."

"I know," Belle nodded.

Walking home, her skin-tight jeans rubbed her exposed welts. Walking hurt less than sitting. Passing people, her soreness heightened her self-respect. Unable to soothe her severe discomfort, she atoned in public for cheating in private. By herself, she'd achieved a just outcome. It didn't excuse her obligation to disclose her need to Brandon. Nothing did.

Entering their penthouse, Brandon greeted her. She hurried into their bedroom, snatched her soft baby-blue pajamas from her drawer, and disappeared into their ensuite. Stripping off her sexy jeans and jumper, her black lace and thin cream strings looked vulnerable in the bathroom mirror. She spun. Darkening red ribbons decorated her lower cheeks. A dense collection of serious stripes. Her crease bore a broad welt. Three strokes fused into a single excruciating punishment. Grabbing the basin, humility washed over her. A disgraceful girlfriend, she'd received a severe beating. Skimming her fingers along her worst stripes, powerful pain rewarded her discreet touch.

Skimming her g-string and matching bra, she stood defenseless, cherishing her humble appearance. Her marked cheeks soaked her sex. Her boss had inflicted acute suffering. Cooperation characterized her truest self. Something she still didn't dare share with Brandon. He didn't know his professional girlfriend had received a formal caning. Pulling up her baby-blue pajama shorts, she smoothed the thin, loose cotton over her bottom. Touching her toes, she checked her shorts didn't rise. Her marks hidden, she stood, adding her matching loose pajama tee. Checking her appearance, she saw a soft girlfriend. Kind, beautiful, deceitful, but caned.

Joining Brandon on their couch, tenderness descended over her. Sitting, her thin pajama shorts punished her.

He said, "I love you in pajamas."

She smiled. Thank god he did. "Putting them on is the best part of my day."

Standing, he seized her hand, tugging her towards their bedroom. "We'll see about that."

Commanded by his athletic physique, her delighted sex throbbed, relieving her burning bottom. His sharp black suit crumpled onto their bedroom floor. She climbed onto their bed, hungry for him. Confident in his short black shorts, he defined dominance. She melted at the sight of his muscular legs marching to take her. He mounted their bed, lifting her on top of him. Knees spread over his hips, she bent down, kissing him. Her sore stripes stretched, driving her damp lips in ardent apology.

His massive hands gripped her slim waist, making her feel tiny. His fingers teased at her pajama shorts. Her brain fused. Panic spread. "Fuck me in my pajamas. They turn me on," she pleaded.

He hustled off his short shorts. Gripping her pajama-clad butt, his unwitting palms stung her sore stripes. She slid aside her loose shorts, stuffing his hardness deep into her. His manhood reached her screaming need. She arched her back, groaning.

"I love your pajamas, too. They're cute," he growled.

"Tell me," she whispered.

"Good girl pajamas. Sexy but sweet."

Her sex clenched him, loving his verdict. She felt good, sexy, and sweet. A dutiful, punished girl. Gripping his hardness, she rode him. Pain blended into pleasure. Rising on his hard authority, she plunged his shaft deep into her soaking sex. His massive hands squeezed her tender bottom. She took her special punishment, pleasure surging. He thrust deep, controlling her satisfaction. Held on the apex of her pleasure, she panted, begging him not to stop. Her tight nipples worshipped his rule over her. She froze, holding her lost cause until she burst into glory. Orgasms spilled through her body, swelling into a symphony of submission. He shot his love deep inside her pummeled sex. She slumped forward onto him, sweeping her arms around his head, his muscled biceps wrapping her pulsating body.

He grinned. "You're on fire tonight, Chief Crew Officer."

She grinned. Their naked honesty demanded she summon supreme courage. Her stinging bottom stoked her spirits. She'd dealt with her deceit. It didn't excuse her obligation to tell him her desires. Calming together was a perfect moment. Bravery unfolded deep within. Pulling away to speak, her stomach lurched and her brain seized. Everything might change if she opened her mouth. His glorious control of her could collapse into conflict, their loving relationship never the same, after she'd spoiled it. Parking her resolve, she returned to his lips, swallowing her words.