« Spanking Stories

Chloe stood before Ben's desk, twisted towards him. Ordered to raise her skirt, she'd reacted. Desperate to beg for modesty, his resolute expression advised against it. Bearing up beneath his gaze, she swiveled back facing his desk, her appeal unmade. Two days ago, he'd have permitted her skirt. She'd wasted that chance. Debate was over. Her fingertips lowered themselves, patting her miniskirt hem.

Understanding her hesitation, Ben repeated his command. "Chloe, raise your skirt to your waist."

Her fingers lost their battle with denial. Snaking beneath her hem, they drew her stretchy black miniskirt up over her proud bottom, bunching it around her waist, exposing her black cotton string panties. Bare-bottomed, she stood proud of her integrity. Had he spanked her when he'd chosen, she'd have been wearing the same. Her sex commended her obedience, shame flooding through her humble body.

He appreciated her beautiful bare cheeks. Her cooperation proved her change of heart. "Chloe, you deserve your spanking. Bend over my desk."

His vast desk stood before her, waiting. She stepped forward, bending down, his explicit instruction ringing in her ears. Placing her elbows on his desk, she rested her arms straight. Bent, her bottom felt more bare.

He smiled. The depth of her transformation was undeniable. Belle or Moira must have had wonderful words. He'd thank them later. Stepping forward, he rested the white rubber tennis shoe sole against her bare skin. He didn't want to extend her embarrassment. He'd smack her entire bottom red. If she remained compliant, without serious distress, he'd add a second layer, deepening her hue.

The chilling rubber against her skin defied doubts. She was getting spanked. Its size stretched across her bottom. Positioned on the crest of her cheeks, it threatened a vast area. She stilled her dread. Girls greater than her had bent here for worse punishments. She deserved hers. Hiding her struggles had threatened her job. She needed her salary. She'd risked it. Nobody else. Her bottom should hurt.

"You kept your incapability from me," Ben said. "Deceitfulness isn't an attractive trait."

The broad rubber sole slammed into her right cheek. Hideous burn burst across her cool skin, forcing fast pants. Processing her abrupt sting, she swallowed his criticism. Her left cheek exploded, forcing heavier pants. Fuck. It was awful.

"How does reticence feel, Chloe?"

It hurt. Her cheeks stung, fiery heat sizzling their surface, deeper pain resonating. Desperate to ease her distress, she swayed her bottom, hoping to dispel it. Settling herself, she balanced her rising burn against her deceitfulness, discovering it deficient.

"I'm expecting an answer, Chloe."

Forced to stop panting, she said, "It hurts, sir."

"Not enough."

His decisive opinion struck a solid agreement with her heart. "No, sir." The tennis shoe smashed into both cheeks, delivering its fiery blast lower. Spread across both cheeks, it left a blazing fire behind. She appreciated its simple confirmation of her unsatisfactory behavior. Panting less, she accepted her pain. The heavy rubber fired into her cheeks, criticizing her weeks of struggle. She should have admitted her skill deficiency. Fire spread low, slamming its fresh condemnation of her inadequate performance into her softest skin. Exhaling hard, she handled her wildfire contagion.

"You didn't come to me, Chloe. I'd have helped you."

Misery struck low, erupting above her legs. She clenched her teeth, pressing her palms into his desk. Had she spoken up, she'd have deserved his trust. It hurt to admit she didn't. Bending where she should have stood requesting his help, the hideous sting spread around the curve of her cheeks. Her entire bottom aflame, she croaked out desperate words. Drawn from deep within, unbidden, they rose. "You were kind when I confessed my difficulty."

He paused, recognizing her heavy repentance. "I can fix stuff I understand. Honesty wins."

"I'm sorry, sir."

"I believe you, Chloe. We must cement your certainty."

His unforgiving tone touched her compliant heart. She lowered herself further, making her bare, beaten bottom a better target for him. He should do to her whatever he deemed right. The enormous shoe crashed into her flaming skin. Its unforgiving assault covered every inch of her burning backside. Savage fires relit burning skin. Fierce willpower fired her feet onto the floor, applauding his displeasure, crying out for his respect.

Tears welled. Out of her depth, she'd hidden her inadequacies. Unafraid of him now, extensive hurt proved his commitment to her. His smacks stopped. Amid her fierce burn, she remained bent, unable to form further thoughts.

"It's over, Chloe. Stand when you're ready."

Gratitude grew, praising her poise. She'd taken her punishment. Her confession felt complete. Rising, she tugged down her skirt, smoothing it over her raging butt. Graceful humility soothed her. Facing him, she lifted her gaze, meeting his. Eyes glistening, she said, "Thank you, sir. I'm very sorry I messed you about."

He smiled. "We've dealt with it. You were brave."

"Thanks," she said. "I had help."

"Moira?"

"Also Jenna, Belle and Sasha." She felt worthy of their friendship.

He smiled. Belle had pulled out her biggest guns. "Are you okay getting home? Shall I order you a car?"

A smile glimmering, she said, "I'll get the train. I'd prefer to stand."

"Of course," he said. "Tomorrow is a fresh day."

She grinned at her boss. Total stupidity. Beneath her skirt, her bare bottom bore his painful spanking. It didn't dissipate her happiness. "Ben, thank you."

He smiled.

Beside her desk, she planted her palms on her butt, heat radiating through her thin skirt. The short-lived relief proved futile. Condemned to suffer beneath her skirt, she left Hair Air, welcoming her subtle indignity. Two minutes' walk brought her to the station. Navigating stairs introduced fresh input to her butt muscles, varying her pain. The silver train cars arrived as she did. Stepping aboard, the busy train suited her need to stand. Among commuters, she wondered if anyone else bore a spanked bottom. She couldn't tell, neither could her fellow travelers. Ten sore minutes below the river brought her to her home station.

Expelled into the evening air, she escaped her stuffy confines. Glancing at the bus bay, the familiar white mini-coach waited, Clark Avenue Tower emblazoned on its side. Forsaking her two-minute shuttle journey, she walked her ten-minute journey home. Moving her butt muscles beat sitting on the comfortable coach.

Desperate to bury her palms on her butt again, she walked straight through her building lobby, waving at the concierge. Twenty-seven floors felt further than normal. Resigned to her state on the train, closer to home, desperation forced her forward. Closing her apartment door, she glanced across the open-plan living area towards her sensational view. Her brother didn't appear. She dropped her laptop bag, planting both palms on her blazing butt. Stretched thin, her skirt released rampant heat. Her palms absorbed it, shifting her fire's focus. Moving her hands released a worse sting where she'd lost coverage.

Losing her fluctuating battle, she gave up, kicking off her heels. She deserved her hurt. Padding forward, she stood before her floor-to-ceiling glass, staring at the view she loved. A click behind her announced her brother leaving his bedroom. He sidled up beside her.

She said, "I feel settled in my job. Sorry it's taken months."

"I'm glad. I appreciate everything you give us."

She smiled. "Thanks. I can afford the pool subscription. Would you like us to join?"

"You're sure?"

She smoothed her palms over her blazing bottom, inducing an unexpected grimace. "Certain." Her single word lacked its confident intent.

"You don't sound certain."

"Sorry. I am. I wasn't confident about my job. My boss discovered my lack of experience. He was brilliant. It's sorted. But keeping my inadequacy secret displeased him. He spanked me, Bro."

"Wow. Is it allowed?"

"If I agree."

"You did?"

"I was wrong. I deserved it. He used a huge tennis shoe."

"Was it terrible?"

She nodded. "I'll feel it for days, I expect. My entire bottom is burning." She grinned. "I'm not showing you."

"Didn't expect it. But you can afford our pool membership?"

"I already could. I wasn't certain my salary was reliable. We'll sign up tomorrow."

"I guess you won't swim yet."

She glanced sideways. "I don't need the embarrassment."

"Thanks for telling me. I appreciate you sharing. You're kind to me."

"You're my younger brother. It's my duty to care for you."

"Chloe, you're the perfect sister. I'm sorry your boss spanked you."

"I'm not. It has cleared the air. It's stupid, I feel wonderful."

"Even though your bottom hurts?"

"Because it hurts. I'm paying my penance. It feels honest and wholesome. He spanked me very hard. I'm in tremendous discomfort, but I deserved it. If you find yourself in proper trouble, take the spanking. I needed persuading. Learn from my mistake, accept your spanking. It's embarrassing. You're a guy. You may find it humiliating. But, bro, it fixes everything."

"I can't imagine it, but thanks for telling me."

She smiled. Confessing to her younger brother had brought rich humiliation. However, honesty between them was central to their survival. She couldn't expect it if she didn't give it. He should hear his older sister had needed a formal beating. Her four extra years didn't make her flawless. He knew beneath her short skirt, her bottom was giving her the excruciating soreness she'd earned. Heading towards their bathroom, shame wafted over her, settling into a shroud of exquisite virtue.

They shared the single bathroom, her bedroom nearby. His bedroom required walking past their open-plan kitchen. Gray floor tiles met white walls reflected in the broad mirror over the basin. Closing the door, she skimmed her skirt up. Turning, she presented her bare cheeks to the mirror.

Vast redness dominated her exposed skin. It spread from high on her cheeks over her entire backside, seeping towards her legs, deepening its shade. She'd receive a very thorough spanking. The tennis shoe's shape showed where its red imprint edged towards unspanked skin. Admiring his thoroughness, pleasure surged. She hadn't withstood her indignity in vain.

Scouring her credenza drawer below the sink, she extracted a tube of Kiehl's rich, moisturizing hand cream. Squeezing it onto her fingers, she soothed it into her skin, starting at the edge. The heat reduced, bringing regret. She shouldn't interfere. He'd intended her spanking to hurt her. Furious with her deceitfulness, she replaced her hand cream tube. Lifting her palm high, she swatted her relieved skin, her assault returning its enthusiastic soreness. Pleased by her integrity, she lowered her skirt. She didn't want her brother to see her actual spanking. It was her humiliation to feel.

Retreating to her bedroom, she closed her door. Her basic bed fulfilled its purpose if not delighting her. In social care, private space didn't exist. Gaining hers had allowed her to grow. Removing her skirt, she unbuttoned her white blouse. Her lace-edged white bra didn't match her black string panties. Neither matched her bright red bottom. She held her punished cheeks. Alone, she reviewed her situation. Twenty-two and spanked for her lamentable performance. It didn't offend her. It cemented her importance. Her boss hadn't fired her, he'd spanked her. Hard, too. A no-nonsense proper punishment. She wouldn't know an improper one, but hers felt thorough. She hadn't cried. Tears had glistened, but she'd kept her dignity. She hadn't disguised her undeniable suffering. He'd known he'd hurt her. Respect cascaded through her sex, powering hard pleasure.

Her bare butt held in her hands, her sex demanded its turn. Easing one palm off her punishment, she rammed her fingers into her string panties, stretching her black cotton. Falling onto her bed, she rolled onto her back for free access. Red heat exploded into her cheap black bedding. She circled her clit, celebrating her humiliation. She'd obeyed her boss, raised her skirt, baring herself, and bent before him. He'd thrashed her. A full, formal spanking with his huge tennis shoe. Feeling its true effects, her sex throbbed harder than on her rock. Being beaten bare by her boss had served her a tough reminder to meet his expectations and hide nothing. Her sex stated its significant satisfaction. She couldn't contain it. Rapid orgasms spewed through her, stealing away her pleasure, leaving her sore.

She skimmed off her panties, discarding her bra. Naked, she stroked her sex, cupping it, replaying her formal obedience. Her colleagues had invited her to join their club. Membership painted on her bare bottom, she stroked her glistening slit. Her pride slid sky high. She held herself in beautiful abeyance, denying herself release, remembering his stern words. Pain proved he'd spanked her. Irrefutable evidence. Minutes passed, poised on her pleasure point. She replayed every aspect of her overt obedience. Twenty minutes of repeated rises celebrated his tough treatment. Exhaustion overwhelming her, she released herself. Magnificent cascades followed, slowing, pulsing, landing her in sheer bliss. She'd learned tons tonight. Above all else, she'd learned she loved powerful men. True power lay in their willingness to punish. Distressing discipline delivered dutiful relief. They knew it.

Next morning her sting had diminished. Obvious redness remained. Tempted by sexy jeans, she'd chosen her same stretchy miniskirt. It hid her marks, its thin fabric sustaining her discomfort. Her desk felt hers. She didn't yet understand everything, but she wasn't afraid to ask.

Belle paused beside her. "I hear you followed my advice."

Chloe blushed. Of course, Ben had told her. "Thank you. Ben and I share a solid understanding."

Belle grinned. "Solid. Nice choice of words."

Wriggling in her seat, Chloe beamed, her blush diminishing. She whispered, "I'm still sore."

"It lasts a day. It was only a spanking."

Grateful for her uncomfortable forecast, Belle's dismissive comment didn't match her stunning sense of success.

Later, Moira leaned against her desk. "Feeling okay?"

They both knew Ben had spanked her. Sharing her secret increased its value. She admitted she remained sore, her tone proving she appreciated her status.

Smiling, Moira whispered, "Spankings don't last long."

Proud of her pain, the comment irked somewhat.

Sasha popped over. Her desk was nearby. "You got it?"

She nodded. "Hard."

"Smart girl. The tennis shoe is a fair start."

Well-meaning, the supportive comment rankled. She'd survived an enormous ordeal. Denigrating her experience denied its monumental effect on her.

Her bottom gave constant reminders of her humble status. Unexpected aches offered sympathetic admiration. Self-respect sat her tall in her chair. Ben flashed her a smile in passing. Hard to imagine the powerful CEO had bent her over and spanked her bare bottom last night. Her sex honored her pride, giving gentle throbs in response to her honest aches.

Humble from her impressive soreness, her rosy attitude brought unlimited successes. Nailing down both focus groups, she warned their lab. They needed two weeks to produce a plethora of potential color choices.

Sparkling with positivity, she consulted Moira about invitations to witness their color choice focus group. Emailing each person, she made Nail Air's sensational decision-making process sound like an exclusive, breathtaking adventure, receiving several instant acceptances, including from Evan, their largest investor.