Devon and Sara: the beginning

Devon Wallace was sitting around, chatting with some friends, and sipping on a beer, laughing and having a good time. He was playing poker with the other guys and doing ok, but not all that well. He bet big on his current hand and called first, and was beaten out, losing alot of money. He cursed and shook his head, not believing his luck at all.
Devon was a 27 year old. businessman who was trying to work out a deal to buy a restaraunt, as one of his dreams was to own one of those. He was single, but had a steady girlfriend who had 4 wonderful kids. He took them out to eat, and to ballgames, and concerts, and his life was pretty happy. He even had made arrangements to propose to his girlfriend, Sara Tyler.
He sipped his beer and watched the ball game on the big screen TV, smiling as his team was doing well. His friend, Roman, looked at him, “How is Sara?”
“She’s doing good,” Devon smiled, “I’m thinking of proposing to her pretty soon. And I will offer to adopt the kids if she wants me too.”
“How come you’re not at home?” Roman asked, “She and the kids go out?”
“No, I –” Devon broke off, “In fact, she was going to cook. And I told her I’d be there.” He glanced at the clock, it was 7:45, “Shit. I should’ve been there already. See you guys. Thanks for the poker and the brewski.”
Devonn drove as fast as he thought safe towards Sara’s house, hoping she wouldn’t be too upset at him. He reached for his cell phone, but it wasn’t there. Had he forgotten it at her house that morning? He thought maybe he had and that meant she had no way to get in touch with him. Finally, he made it to her house and pulled in the driveway. He locked the car and walked on inside. From the living room he head CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! and the sound of Sara’s 9 yr. old, Jacen, crying hard. He took his stuff to their bedroom and changed into shirt and jeans. Heading to the front room, where he could hear the belt whipping still, he was waylayed by Sara’s 7 year old twins Jenny and Courtney and 5 yr. old Corky.
“Devo!” They all cried at once and hugged him. Corky looked at him, “Jacen failed a test at ‘chool and lied to mommy ’bout it. She was weally mad.”
“I see,” Devon said, “Has she made dinner yet?”
“No,” Courtney shook her blond, pigtailed head, “Not yet. She wanted to deal with Jacen first.
“Ok,” Devon said, sighing with relief, “That’s good. You three go play, OK?”
“Yes sir,” they all chorused and ran to their rooms. Devon walked to the front room and glanced to his right. Jacen was in the corner, shorts and briefs pooled at his feet, hands on his head, red and striped bottom on display. Sara walked in and Devon kissed her and smiled.
Sara didn’t return the smile, “Where have you been? You’re lucky you didn’t miss dinner but I had that seminar to go to. And you were suppossed to babysit!”
Devon had forgotten about that, “I completely forgot Sara. I apologize to you. I had things to do after work and so I ran really late.”
“Things like going to the bar?” Sara asked.
“No, of course not,” Devon lied, regretting it the moment he said it.
“DEVON KYLE WALLACE!” Sara said in a loud voice, “You smell like beer so I know that’s a lie. And you left your cell phone here. Forgot that too?”
“Yes Sara, I did,” Devon admitted, “I uh… gambled. Lost a bunch.”
Sara sighed, “Devon, I’ve told you not to gamble anymore as you don’t know when to quit and you lose money. And you still do. And you constantly forget things, easy things to. Talking hasn’t helped, so I’m going to do something else and see if it helps. And you’re lying made it worse. You are going to learn consideration, honesty, learn to remember, and learn to listen. Understand?”
“Y-yes Sara,” Devon nodded.
“Good,” Sara replied and grabbed his hear. She pulled him to the corner and stuck his nose in it, “Stand there and think about your behavior. As soon as I get supper in the over, I will be back to deal with you.” Devon stood there, having a fair idea of what was going to happen. But she hadn’t done it before, so he wasn’t sure she’d do so now. He could hear her in the kitchen, rattling the dishes and working on supper. He wasn’t sure what she was making, but it began to smell very good. She bustled about, and made stuff, taking her time. Finally he heard her put the food in the oven and set the timer. He listened as her footfalls receded down the hall, then got louder again, a tapping sound accompanying them. He heard her walk past and sit on the sofa, “Jacen, come here.” Jacen hobbled over to her and she pulled him accross her lap and rubbed lotion on his bottom, then let him up, redressed him, and kissed him, “Go wash up for dinner sweety.”
“Yes mommy,” Jacen said. He ran off towards the back of the house.
The next thing Devon heard was, “Devon, come her to me young man.” Devon turned and walked to the sofa. He looked at her and saw a paddle next to her and his eyes got big. She reached for his jeans, unbuttoned them, and pulled them down around his ankles, then put her fingers in the waistband of his briefs and did the same, pulling them to his ankles. She looked at Devon, “Do you know what’s about to happen Devon?”
“You’re going to spank me?” Devon asked, incredulous.
“That’s correct,” Sara said, “I am going to soundly spank you and when I’m through with you, you’ll be very sorry indeed. I don’t like doing this, but I love you, so I have to teach you. From now on, Devon, if you mess up, this is what you can expect. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes,” Devon responded.
“Yes what?” Sara asked.
“Yes ma’am,” Devon replied, looking a bit self-conscious and embarassed.
“Good boy,” Sara said, “I believe you know why you’re being spanked, so over my lap.” Devon hesitated and backed off. Sara looked at him, “Get over my lap now unless you’d like to add the hairbrush to what you’re going to get.”
Devon didn’t know what all he was getting, but wasn’t wanting the hairbrush added to it, so he walked forward and laid across her lap. She adjusted him, raised her hand and then brought it down as hard as she could.
Devon was kicking his legs and crying hardly. He had gotten some spankings growing up, but none as hard as this and she was covering every inch of his bottom, sit spot, and thighs. He was gasping and crying as the pain increased.
Sara stopped the handspanking and Devon lay there, bawling his eyes out, his bottom very sore. He gasped, “I’m sorry Sara. I’m sorry. No more please. No more.”
“Oh, we’re not done by a long shot Devon,” Sara assured him, “Not by a long shot.” She opened a drawer and pulled out of a ruler, and not one of the cheap, thin plastic ones either, and old fashioned thick and heavy wooden on. She raised it high and brought it down.
Devon thrashed around and covered up his bottom. Sara moved his hand and landed 5 licks to each inner thigh, causing him to buck and yell. Satisified, she continued on the bottom.
By now, Devon’s bottom was very hot and buckets of tears poured out of his eyes. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take of this. She stood him up, hands on his head and kissed him, “I love you. This is killing me, but I have to do it because I love you.” She led him to the chair and bent him over the back of it. He heard her pick up the belt and tap it against his bottom. “40 licks Devon. Brace yourself.” Devon grabbed on tight the chair, his knuckles going white and waited. He didn’t have long.
Devon was screeching and squirming and wiggling and his bottom burned anew with each lick of the belt. He gasped as she continued.
Finally, she stopped and he lay over the chair, gasping and sobbing. His bottom was on fire and he was definitely learning his lesson. She picked up the paddle, “Turn around, hands on ankles.”
Devon protested, “Please no..” but saw her face and did as asked. She tapped the paddle against his bottom then brought it back and slammed it down hard.
She set the paddle down, “You may stand up.” Devon was sobbing and tears gushed down his face as did snot. She cleaned off the snot and hugged him.
“So sorry,” he whispered, “so sorry. so sorry.”
“Shh. I know you are. You’re forgiven sweety,” Sara said and kissed him gently. She rocked him and soothed him and wiped his face, then led him to the corner, “I will call you when it’s time for dinner.”
Devon stood there for what seemed like hours as the food cooked. He even heard little Corky ask, “Why is Unky Devo in the corner?”
“He was naughty,” Sara told her baby son, “So he got punished.”
Devon sighed and stayed there in the corner, until Sara came back in the room. She called, “Devon, come over her.”
Devon hobbled to her and she placed him over her lap and rubbed lotion on his trhrobbing bottom. She redressed him and smiled, “Go wash up Devon.” He went to the bathroom and washed his hands and face and then went to the kitchen.
“I’m sorry sweety,” Devon whispered, “Thank you. I’ve been needing that for a long time. I love you for giving it to me.”
“You’re welcome,” Sara smiled, “And I know. Even big boys need to be spanked sometimes.” They all went to dinner, Devon and Jacen squirming in their chairs as they ate. They all played games after dinner, then Devon helped Sara tuck the kids in bed.
“Jacen,” Devon said, “If you need help in school, ask me. I’m glad to help.”
“Ok, Uncle Devo,” Jacen smiled, “THanks.” Jacen rolled onto his tummy and fell asleep.
Shortly thereafter Devon and Sara went to bed. Devon slowly undressed Sara and climbed on top of her and kissed her, entering into her. “I love you more than anything,” Devon whispered, as he began to make passionate love to her. She pulled him close and they kissed, loving each other. Sara thankful for a wonderful man in her life. And Dylan thankful for a woman who wasn’t afraid to give him the discipline he needed. Sara thought of getting on him for not using protection, but it was a bit late now. Oh well, she thought, I love him and he’s mine. Devon smiled, thinking, she’s mine and I love her. They continued to make love.

Her name was Madison

I stood at the front of the classroom waiting on my youngest student, a very talented sixteen year old girl, still in high school, and one I had bragged on plenty of times to the members of the symphony. Her name was Madison and she was late. I felt my embarassment gather over me. I had bragged on her so much… told them that she would come to and be on time for every practice. I even got her on the symphony team, seeing as she would have been too young and inexperienced if she would have just auditioned. The youngest member on the symphony, aside from her, was twenty years old. There was no way that she could have made it without me busting my ass saying good things about her.

And here she was, late.

I stood irritably in the front of the orchestra as everyone practiced and tuned before me. My hair was fallen into my eyes, they have a tendency to do that when I’m angry. My blue eyes were blazing with anger and no one dared speak to me because they knew how tempered I would get if they said something. After a few minutes of their loud playing and me standing furiously, I cut them all off, to which everyone stopped playing except for one lone violinist too enthralled to realize that he was the only one still playing. His stand partner smacked him softly and the young man flushed with embarassment and put his instrument down on his lap.

“Let me remind you,” I began, taking a deep breath in. The orchestra didn’t care for me too much, seeing as I was only twenty-four, younger than most of their children. They wanted their old conductor back, most of them did at least, although he was retired and they would have to get over it. They didn’t like the way I changed things, making the songs more upbeat and scheduling more concerts in order to make money. Tardiness was one thing I would not tolerate, nor was abscense. “If you are running late for a rehersal, do not bother coming at all. Ever again,” I said sternly, turning towards the other side of the room where the cellists looked at me in utter shock. Apparently, they had not heard these words before. “We shall begin,” I said, flipping through my scores in front of me. “Mendelssohn, from the top,” I ordered, watching everyone shoot their instruments up. I raised my hands up to conduct the orchestra and heard a loud bang at the door way.

Madison sprinted inside the doorway, violin case in arms, swinging from side to side as she hurried to find her seat. “Miss Whittington,” I stated, emotionless, dropping my hands back down. “We have already began today’s rehersal, you are late.”

“Yes sir,” she stammered, out of breath and taking her seat at the back of the room. “I… I was running late.”

“Very well. You are dismissed.”

She stared at me for a moment.

“Miss Whittington, you are dismissed. Pack up your things and go home, we have no need for you anymore.”

“Ex-Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You are late, I do not tolerate that in my orchestra. Pack up your instrument. You have been dismissed.”

I heard the subtle murmur of the people in front of me. They were probably talking about how much they hated me, some probably talking about the irresponsibility of the young girl, but what they said did not matter to me. I would not allow anyone else to be late, and I would not make an exception for her.

“But sir,” she stammered, still staring at me, “I’m sorry… I’m here and… I’m sorry..” I could see the tears in her eyes, but I had to remain firm and strict.

“Very well,” I said, still irritated. “See me after rehersal.” I raised my hands once more and began conducting.

I must say, the practice went genuinely well. They knew how I was when I was pissed off and they probably didn’t want to be snapped at. I applauded each of them after the practice for a job well done then dismissed each of them. I saw a few people go towards Madison and put a hand on her shoulder for support, but I could not make out a word of what they were saying. All I knew is that none of them could imagine what my conversation with Madison would be…

“You wanted to see me, sir?” I heard the weak voice say. I turned to see the young girl standing there, hands shaking as she carried her case and music in her hands.

“Yes, Madison,” I said, stepping down from the podium to where I was a few inches shorter, but still towering over her. “Follow me to my office.” I turned and walked away, knowing that she was following me, but being so short and not as fast as I, she was a few good feet behind me. I reached my office door in time to see her scampering up and then I opened it, bidding her to sit. She did as directed and sat her things down next to her, running her hands down her skirt to flatten it out. I closed the door behind us and took a seat across from her. “Tell me, then, Young Lady, why you were late.”

I could feel her nervousness. Her body quivered a little and she smoothed her skirt again then cleared her throat. “Well, sir,” she began, “I-I…” She was speechless for a moment. “I don’t know, sir,” she finally said then looked at the ground.

“I see. And if I let you off this time, do you realize what would happen?”

She shook her head.

“Everyone else would show up late to the practices and expect to get away with it.” I let those words sink in for a moment. “Madison, you don’t understand what I had to go through to get you in this orchestra. You are a bright young girl and I know that you knew better than to be late today. We do not have many practices and all I ask is for you to come, be prepared, and be on time. Is that too much to ask?”

She shook her head.

“Therefore you’ll understand that I have no other choice but to kick you out,” I stated bluntly.

“But sir!” she said, her head rising to where her eyes met mine. “Please don’t kick me out! I’ll do anything..”

I felt so heartless before I told her that there was nothing I could do. The poor girl was practically breaking down before me, begging to be able to stay, and there was nothing I could do. Except perhaps one thing…

“Very well,” I said. “There is one condition in which I shall allow you to stay.”

Her eyes began to get brighter.

“I will punish you accordingly, as I would at school, and you will apologize to the group next week.”

I could feel the fact that she was taken aback, for she knew what I meant by being punished as if she was at school, and although I had never punished her, she knew that it would not be fun. She had been my student for six years at the private school that she attended, and not once had she gotten herself into any type of trouble that would require the discipline I would now administer to her.

“Is that a deal?”

She thought for a moment. I wasn’t sure if being punished or letting others know that it had happened that was is what bothered and embarassed her most. Finally she came up with an answer. “Yes, sir,” she said weakly, standing.

I nodded slowly letting the idea of a caning sink into her head. “This will hurt, Madison,” I said sternly, her only reply being a slow nod. I stood up as well and walked to the closet on the other side of the room in which the cane hung. I took it and looked at her small frail body, shuddering with fear. She was a small girl, even for her age, long auburn hair and precious blue eyes. I moved towards her. “You were ten minutes late, Madison,” I said. “One stroke for each minute and two strokes for the embarassment. That’s twelve strokes, Madison.”

“Yes, sir,” she muttered, terrified.

I did not speak for a moment. She just stood there, staring at the floor, her knees trembling. “I want you to count them aloud,” I finally said. “Bend over and touch your toes.”

“Yes, sir.” I was appalled at how polite she was when in trouble.

She reached for the floor, spreading her legs a little and finally touching her toes. She stood there like that until I moved towards her and I saw her body wince a little. I knew the fright that she was enduring. After all, I had done this to many students before and they mostly felt the same way. I lifted her plaid skirt up and placed it on her back.

“I am very disappointed in you, Miss Whittington.” I put my fingers inbetween the waisteband of her panties and her back and tugged them down to her knees. Her barebottom stood on display in front of me. The uneasy silence was still present in the room. “Don’t forget to count down,” I ordered to which she murmured a reply, probably the words “yes, sir.”

I held the cane up high with my right hand. “Tardiness will not be tolerated,” I scolded the brought the cane crashing down on the young girl’s bottom.

“AHHHHHHH,” she said then stood up instantly grabbing her bottom.

“Head down, fingers to toes, Young Lady,” I scolded.

“One, sir,” she said moving her body back down into the position it had been.

I cracked the cane once more down on her bottom, leaving another solid red mark.

“Two, sir,” she replied.

The two lines were parallel and I cracked once more right inbetween the two marks.

The quiet girl moaned and cried out, calling “three, sir.”

I concentrated on each of those three spots. The fourth blow landed in the exact same spot as the first, causing a louder cry. By the fifth time I could hear Madison’s voice crack a little, and I knew that she was silently crying. I cracked the cane down for the sixth time, this time in the exact spot that had been whipped twice already. Madison shrieked.

“SIX SIR!” she squeeled, tears streaming down her face and her body shaking more than ever.


“I’m an angel, I wouldn’t dare!”

“I’m going to just be gone for the weekend. Are you going to be okay
here by yourself?” Terrence asked me for the 500th time.

“Yes, Terrence, I’ll be fine,” I said, urging him again to leave.

“Okay, well, the emergency numbers are on the fridge, and..”

“I know, I know, if I need anything call Jacob.”

Terrence smiled. “I don’t know about leaving you here… I mean…”

I sighed loudly. “Terrence… go. Have fun, mmk? I’ll be fine.” He
was going to spend the weekend with his girlfriend in Florida and I
was all for the idea. I didn’t get to spend much time by myself, and
the poor guy was under a lot of stress, with keeping me and all. I
wanted him to get out and have a nice time.

Terrence mock-sighed back at me. “Well, okay…” He hugged me. “I’ll
be back Sunday afternoon and… well, just have a good time. And
don’t do anything I wouldn’t let you do, okay?”

I smiled. “I’m an angel, I wouldn’t dare!”

“Yeah, right…” He walked out the door with his suitcases in hand
and loaded them into the trunk and waved goodbye. I grinned and waved
back watching him drive out of our driveway, down the street, and
turn right onto the highway where he would be going to his
girlfriend’s house, then on a trip miles away from me, leaving me by
myself. Oh yes, this would be an awesome weekend.

It was a Friday night, and I had nothing wild planned. Actually, I
had to work, and I knew whenever I got home that I’d be too worn out
to do anything more than sit in front of the tv and watch hours of
the discovery channel. So I decided that Saturday would be the
perfect night for a party.

I called up my friends and asked if they wanted to come over, and to
invite anyone they wanted for some loud music and lots of alcohol. I
had a friend from work who told me he’d provide if I paid. After
calling everyone I knew, or rather, liked, I got ready for work and
set out into the hot summer air to the local pizza place that I
worked at to waste a Friday night making pizzas for loud, annoying
customers who were never satisfied. I talked to my friend, Nate, and
gave him $40, compliments of Terrence for food, gas, whatever I
decided to buy, and gave him a list of stuff to get us, which mostly
consisted of wine coolers and beer, and a little hard liquor, but not
too much. He came back up there, car glowing in the midst of the
black night, and I shoved them into the trunk of my car and gave him
a huge hug, thanking him a million times.

I got back to my house, put the stuff in the fridge, and wasted the
rest of the night watching F.B.I. Files and stuff like that. Around
2, I yawned and dozed off to sleep on the couch, the tv still talking
softly in front of me.

The next afternoon I woke up at 1, talked to Terrence, who was super
worried, on the phone for about 10 minutes until he was assured that
I was fine, the house wasn’t burnt down, and I hadn’t been in trouble
with the police. I felt kind of guilty after I hung up the phone,
thinking how much Terrence would be let down if he knew what I was
doing, but I pushed the thought away. I had already invited the
people, I couldn’t back down now.

I called it the beginning of summer bash. Yes, it was a bash, even
for an unpopular person like me. Somehow the word got around to
people I went to school with and there ended up being tons of people
on my doorstep at 8 that night. I charged the people that I didn’t
like a fee of $5, not because I didn’t like them, but because they
were high or drunk enough to give it to me. Around 9:30, I called
Nate at work and asked him if he could drop by with more beer, the
guys were drinking that stuff like it was the only thing on the
planet. He agreed, and I promised I would pay him back and if I
didn’t he could kick my ass.

Nate knocked on my door at 11pm, and I gratefully answered so the
idiots who actually paid me could get some more to drink. “You can
stay if ya want..” I yelled over the loud heavy music behind me. He
just grinned slightly.

“Nahhh, I think Ima go on home, but thanks.”

I smiled and shrugged then yelled again of the yell music, “Okay,
suit yourself!”

I, was not drunk. I was drinking, but I could walk straight. My
friends around me were smoking pot, which I didn’t like the idea of,
and anytime I caught someone, I took the joint away from them, much
to their disliking. I wasn’t about to get caught with pot in my
house… Terrence would kill me! What if it had been hiding behind a
doorway or something? He’d think I was smoking it. Nope, not going to
take that chance.

By 12:30 the crowd started thinning out. I guess they thought my
parties were boring. It didn’t matter to me, my friends and I were
having a good time acting like idiots and dancing around my small
living room to KoRn.

“This party is smashing!” some wasted girl told me.

I grinned. “Sure is!” I yelled back.

“I’m Sue!” she said loudly.



Uhoh, I thought. The music stopped and I turned around to see
Terrence standing in the doorway, a very, very angry look on his face.


The people started filtering out of my house, racing to the door,
seeing that the party had been busted. Terrence just stood there,
eyeing me, not a very happy look on his face. He stared me down, but
I couldn’t look at him. I just muttered apologies to everyone who
walked past me until finally, everyone was outside. I looked around
the house. Everything looked trashed… the floor was cluttered with
plastic cups, there were cigarette butts everywhere, beer cans…

“What the fuck are you doing, Brianna!” Terrence yelled at me,
slamming the front door shut with a BAM!

“Uhmmm… just hanging out with some friends,” I said in a small
voice, feeling like a kid with his large frame towering over me like
it was.

“Hanging out with some friends!” he yelled, so loudly it caused me to
jump. He picked up a few empty beer cans and held them out. “You call
THIS hanging out with some friends?!?” He chunked the can to the
side. “I thought I could trust you, Brianna! But you go and have a
party while I’m gone, I know you were drinking, were you smoking,

“But you.. you never said.. I couldn’t have a party..” I stammered.

have to spell it out for you? Do I have to write every single little
rule three feet high and shove it under your face for you to see it!
You know better than this.”

“I.. I’m.. sorry..” I stammered again. I was shaking like crazy, and
his anger wasn’t helping me be any calmer. He finally just
exasperatedly turned around and began picking up the littered floor.
I helped a bit, throwing some empty cans and cups into the garbage
can, sitting turned over stuff back up. “I’m in a lot of trouble,
aren’t I?” I said in an almost inaudible voice.

“Oh yeah, Brianna. You’re in a LOT of trouble,” he said, throwing the
last bit of stuff away. The living room no longer looked like a junk
yard. “Stay here,” he said, me complying as he went to his room for a
minute while I stood there like a bump on a log. Why had I been so
completely stupid? Friday night would’ve been a much better night to
have the damn party… (Obviously I wasn’t feeling any remorse yet.)

He came back into the room carrying a board. It was a good sized
board… looked like it be a good tool for a small child incase they
ever got out of line…. My thoughts broke off there. “No,” I said,
as much of a shock to him as myself…

He didn’t reply to that. “Go bring me every ounce of alcohol you have
in this house.”

My feet were glued to the floor and my eyes to the paddle he was
holding in his hands.

“RIGHT NOW, YOUNG LADY!” he bellowed.

I jumped a bit from his voice and ambled to the kitchen, grabbing the
wine coolers from the fridge, and the beer cans and hard liquor from
the counter. I brought it back to where Terrence was, and then I
handed him a wad of cash, a good $100. He didn’t even question the
money, just said “Anything else you need to give me?” I dug in my
pocket, finding three joints and a package of cigarettes.

“These aren’t mine,” I said, pointing to the joints. “Someone had
them, and I didn’t want em smoking around me..” I was glad he
actually let me speak.

“And these cigarettes?”

“Those.. well, I smoked some of them…”

He nodded. “You know the procedure,” he said, quietly, amazingly calm.

“Terrence.. I feel really bad…”

“You’ll feel even worse whenever I get finished with you,” he

“Can’t… can’t you just do it over my pants?” I asked, knowing that
a barebottom one was in store, but it was worth a try.

“Yeah, right, Brianna. You’re going to have a huge party, loud music,
people smoking and drinking… yeah, I’ll do it over your pants,” he
said sarcastically.

I groaned but pulled my pants and panties down letting them fall to
the ground. I gave a puppy face, but Terrence ignored it and instead
took me by the arm and pulled me over the end of the couch.


“I cannot believe you, Brianna,” he scolded.


“Having a party…”


“Drinking alcohol..”


“And smoking..”


“I’m VERY disappointed in you.”


By this time I was kicking and screaming and pleading and whining…
anything you could imagine to come from a well spanked 16 year old.

“I’m sorryyyyyy,” I pleaded. I lay across the couch, in so much pain,
my bottom throbbing, me crying like a baby.


“I don’t want you to EVER WHACK! do this again WHACK!, do you
understand me? WHACK!”

“Yesssssss,” I cried, jumping up and down on my feet. I heard the
paddle drop to the floor through my sobs and then felt Terrence lift
me from my position. He took me into his lap. “Shhhh, it’s okay,
Brianna. It’s okay hon..” He wrapped his arms around me and we sat
there on the couch, me crying and he comforting me in his soothing
voice, allowing me to bury my head into his chest.

“I’m sorry..” I muttered, as if he didn’t already know already.

“Shhhh,” he said in a hushed voice. “It’s all over, Bri.. it’s okay..
I’m finished.”

I nodded softly and lay there until I regained my composure and vowed
to myself never to drink or smoke or party again.


A oiled belt

Chapter one

Had you been a bug on the wall of the bedroom of this couple’s small rented cottage, you would have seen Ed sitting morosely on the edge of his bed, seemingly fully clothed. On closer examination, you may have noticed that the belt loops on Ed’s pants were empty, a brown leather belt lies on the bed next to him. Being only a bug, you would have no way of knowing that Ed’s brown belt is scheduled to be used as a tool to perform a very special job. In one hour and 55 minutes, Ed is to carry that belt out to his wife where he will contritely request her to thrash his bare bottom with it.

While sitting there, Ed thought of his spanking contract with his wife of one year. In that year he has spanked her three times, but until today, has successfully avoided violating the contract’s rules, and so hasn’t been spanked himself since his teens. Before their marriage, Ed and his fiancée, Janet, negotiated a mutual discipline contract similar to the famous Spencer Plan. Their contract features two lists of “spanking offenses” that apply equally to both of them. The first is a long list of “normal” offenses that rate a routine spanking; the other is a much shorter list of more serious offenses that would earn a “special” spanking. Because of the difference in their strengths, the implements to be used for their spankings differ. A “normal” spanking for Janet would be with Ed’s bare hand, but Ed would feel a hairbrush for the same offense. For “special” spankings, it would be the hairbrush for Janet and the belt for Ed. Since they were to be a married couple and nudity should not be an issue between them, they agreed that spankings would always be given with the recipient totally bare.

Through the bedroom door, Ed heard the rattle and splash of Janet doing the dishes out in the kitchen and it brought his thoughts back to his present predicament. He wished he could be standing next to her, as was their normal evening ritual, her washing dishes and him wiping them as they compared workdays. Dejectedly, he kicked off his shoes and stripped off his socks.

Ed could easily have gotten out of the strapping he was about to receive, he had not actually failed the sobriety test. It had all started innocently enough. One of Ed’s co-workers retired today and the whole group stopped on the way home for a planned “quick one” at a local bar. Ed had even warned Janet that he was going to be a bit late getting home. Just as Ed was finishing his beer and was preparing to say his goodbyes and go home, he looked up and found a full glass sitting on the bar in front of him, someone had “bought a round”. By the time he got out of the bar (bustling a bit because he was late for dinner), Ed had consumed several quick beers, and felt just a bit fuzzy (he wasn’t one of the world’s great drinkers). With just a bit of concentration, Ed found that he could navigate in a perfectly straight line across the parking lot towards his car. Surely he could drive OK as long as he was very careful! It was just Ed’s bad luck that a police officer was watching when he tore out of the bar’s parking lot on his way home to Janet. The next thing Ed knew, he was standing beside the road blowing into a tube. At a reading of .08 he would have been arrested, but the meter only registered .075, so the officer let him off with a warning but insisted that he not drive the car away. Sitting in the back of the patrol car, Ed swallowed hard and called Janet on his cell phone. She said she would be right there. Ed sat dejected. Even through his alcohol fog; Ed understood fully the seriousness of his gaffe. He knew that Janet would not let him off easily, but he even more worried about the wrath of his most severe critic, the one who would not soon forgive him…himself.

Ed was a very “straight ahead” type of guy. He had willingly signed the spanking contract with Janet, because it seemed to be something she needed. She had some “issues” with financial self-control and she needed the structure that came with the agreement, yet was independent enough that she did not want a man dictating rules to her. The ides of having definite rules that she agreed to in advance, rules that she had helped forge herself, rules that applied equally to him and her, appealed to her sense of justice. Of course, what was the point of having definite rules without some definite consequence should the rules be broken? Ed found the rules to be “normal stuff” and easy to follow, and therefore he never dreamed that it might someday be HIM receiving the sore bottom!

Fortunately, Janet did not keep Ed waiting long. She was still in her office clothes, so all she had to do was turn the burners off on the stove and jump in the car to rescue Ed. A mere five minutes after Ed’s call, she arrived. Ed thanked the officer and sheepishly slid into the passenger side of Janet’s SUV as the officer locked Ed’s car and handed Janet his keys. From Ed’s hurried phone call and from what she could see (and smell) Janet had pretty much figured out what was going on, but as they drove off she asked for Ed’s side of the story. He told her the truth, holding nothing back and offering no excuse, and waited for her reaction. It was not long in coming: “You know that you should get the strap for this” Janet said, only half seriously. Ed’s stomach flipped; and he swallowed hard. She had voiced exactly what he was thinking! Ed sat silently until they were almost home, his heart gradually beating faster and faster as he tried to work up the courage to say what he knew he must. He took a deep, breath and cleared his throat. He had a feeling in the pit of his stomach that was exactly the same as that time when he had taken a parachute jump on a bet. Finally, he started speaking before he had time to change his mind, “if it were you that got stopped for DUI, I would give you a spanking with that hairbrush that you would never forget, so I guess we know what you have to do”. Janet pulled the car to the curb so she could stare into Ed’s eyes. “You’re serious aren’t you?” Janet said. Ed scrunched his buttocks as he realized there was no turning back. “Yes Janet” he said, “I know that I did not violate the letter of our contract, but I feel that I came close enough that the rest doesn’t matter” “If it helps your decision, were the situation turned around, I would insist on spanking you.” She stared wordlessly at Ed for several heartbeats before saying simply, “OK”. Finally condemned, Ed slumped into his seat, his heart thumping furiously. When they got to the house, Janet insisted that they have a normal supper before they had “their discussion”. Supper was a little dry from the delay, but they both made a valiant attempt to pretend like nothing had happened and to be friendly to each other and engage in their usual dinnertime chatter.

Chapter 2

The thought of exactly what was ahead of him brought Ed back to the present. He anxiously looked at the alarm clock on the dresser for the tenth time; he had an hour and 50 minutes to go. There must be something wrong with that clock he thought. Without enthusiasm, he reached down to his beltless waist; unbuttoned & unzipped his pants, and then lifted his bottom off the bed so he could strip them off.
It had been several years since the last time, but Ed had felt the sting of a strap twice before in his lifetime, both times at the hands of his father. Each session had made its own lifelong impression. Even today, he could still clearly remember the lesson that went with each punishment. His father reserved the strap for only the most serious of offences. “Oiling the Belt” was a phrase that Ed’s father used throughout Ed’s upbringing as sort a family “code phrase” for the family’s worst (though rare) physical punishment, a hard strapping on the bare bottom. For example he might say; “If you come home after midnight one more time, you will oil my belt”.

The phrase makes immediate sense when you learn about a peculiar family punishment ritual. Before being spanked with father’s wide work belt, one was expected to spend up to an hour sitting at the kitchen table working Neatsfoot oil into that old leather until it was heavy and supple. When the belt finally passed father’s minute inspection, the person to be punished was offered a quick trip to the bathroom before being escorted to the privacy of the master bedroom, made to strip naked, and bent across the parental bed for a memorable session with that old belt.

There was no doubt in Ed’s mind that the “oiling of the belt” procedure was primarily a psychological device to make his father’s rare belt spankings more memorable, (and perhaps also to give his father time to calm down and confer with his wife before the event) but he also had no doubt that a strap made supple and heavy with oil will do a more effective job of punishing a bare bottom. Especially that evil tip! A microsecond after the main part of that belt slammed against his bare buttocks, itself producing a nasty welt, that tip accelerated to nearly the speed of sound as it curved around to make a tiny but painful triangular bruise on the side of his hips, or, depending on exactly how the blow was placed, perhaps curling its way up into the most private of places to do its painful work. It was these tiny bruises that lasted longer than any other damage caused by the spanking, reminding the recipient up to two weeks after the event that he or she had been well punished.

Twice, Ed had heard that phrase “oil my belt” used as a command. Once was for “borrowing” the family car without permission, and the other was his reward for underage drinking. Both punishments were sufficiently memorable that they never needed to be repeated. Now it was alcohol that was bringing Ed to the third strapping of his life, this one at the hands of his lovely wife.

Chapter 3

The mental vision of that belt in his wife’s hand again jerked Ed’s thoughts back to the present and to his grim prospects for the next few hours. Those earlier thoughts of Neatsfoot oil reminded Ed that he had a bottle of the stuff right next to his shoe-shine kit in the base of his nightstand. Thankful for something to occupy his time, he retrieved it, put an old towel across his lap, and began to oil his own belt. Yes, it would probably make his strapping hurt a bit more, but that was the point wasn’t it?


As he worked there on his bed, Ed worried. He KNEW getting spanked with the belt was going to hurt, and that certainly worried him, but other concerns came first. He worried that his wife would have difficulty doing the job right; difficulty punishing him like a man who had driven drunk deserved to be punished. Is she really strong enough? Will she get squeamish when she sees that she was causing her man real pain and stop before the job is truly complete? If she does, will he be man enough to ask her to continue? Most of all Ed worried about his own bravery. Will he beg her to stop? Wheedle her to not hit so hard? Will he stay in place for her? Will he cry or howl or even scream or otherwise make a childish scene? Would he lose control of his bladder? (There was a bad precedent) Will he embarrass himself by getting a giant erection? (Many, many precedents) Ed was worried about all of these things and a lot more.

To Ed’s credit, he was determined to ensure that he be thoroughly punished for his crime and not let off from his punishment in any way. After supper, he had openly discussed the above issues with his wife and together they had worked out solutions to the best of their ability. First of all, Janet reminded Ed of her years on her college softball team, she was petite, but hardly a weakling. There would be no certain number of swats. They agreed that the strapping would continue without letup until BOTH agreed that Ed had been satisfactorily punished. “Satisfactory” was defined to mean not only a thoroughly scarlet bottom, but also plenty of welts and bruises that Ed would feel for days to come. Janet had an additional criterion in mind that she did not mention to Ed. While Ed only seemed to be thinking about the spanking in terms of is physical effects, Janet wanted to be sure that Ed’s lesson had really “sunk in”. There was no way to articulate how Janet would know when this had happened, but she was confident that she would know when the time came.

As their conversation progressed, Ed confessed to his wife that he did not trust himself to behave “like a man” when that belt started snapping against his bottom. She should disregard (and later forget) any shameful, childish, sounds or words heard during his spanking. They even agreed that Janet should insist on restraints if necessary to keep Ed in place long enough to get the job done properly. Ed would be feeling the belt “cold turkey” with no warm-up. They discussed the merits of a “warm-up” spanking with the hairbrush, but decided that it would be best is Janet saved all of her strength for the belt. Finally, they propped a pillow up on the arm of the couch (where Ed’s strapping was to take place) so that Janet could practice her swing. Ed removed his own belt and handed it to her. After a few minutes of coaching and adjustment of range, position, and technique, that belt was landing on the pillow with a sharp “whistle-thwack” that made chills run up and down Ed’s spine, made him far less concerned about Janet’s ability to use that belt to take him far past his limits, and frankly, gave him belated second thoughts about the whole affair..

Their preparations apparently complete, Janet gathered her husband into a hug and tenderly told him that it was perfectly OK to cry and even scream while he was being spanked; “let it out” she said, “I won’t think any less of you, and it will sort of tell me how I am doing”, “It is supposed to hurt and you are doing a very brave thing to insist on this spanking, but I agree that you DO deserve it, and I intend to deliver!” Finally, after taking a deep, nervous, breath, Janet handed the belt back to Ed and suggested pointedly that he go in the bedroom to spend some time by himself contemplating the reason for his coming punishment and preparing himself for it. “I want you to think about everyone you know who has ever been hurt by drunken driving. I will be asking you about that part! I don’t want to see or hear you until 7 PM, and then I want you promptly out here, belt in hand, bare, and ready in all respects for your punishment” she instructed him “I want you to hand me that belt and ask me to please strap your bottom with it and then explain exactly why I should do it and why I should do it hard!”. Ed’s mouth opened to protest, but then he shut it, remembering almost too late that he could not be in charge of his own punishment. Further, even though it is not specifically allowed by their contract, he had given Janet serious corner time before and after her most recent punishment, which had featured a brisk and memorable application of the back of a hairbrush to her bare tush.

Ed was disappointed; he would really would much rather have gotten his punishment over with immediately, and was certainly not looking forward to such a long time contemplating it. In the end, he gulped and accepted his wife’s complete, though temporary, authority over him. Looking down at the floor, Ed said two words that he had never before spoken to his wife “Yes Maam” “Do you have any questions about what you are supposed to do or about what is going to happen?” Janet asked. “No Maam” Ed said, still looking down at the floor. “Go then” she said gently, “I expect you at 7 PM sharp”. Wordlessly, Ed turned and went to his temporary exile in their bedroom. He would have nearly two hours to stew and worry before finally being allowed out of the bedroom to submit to the strap.

Chapter 4

While Ed sat nervously in the bedroom watching the clock, Janet sat in the living room doing much the same. She looked at the end of the couch, where it was all going to happen. Ed had left the end of the couch pulled away from the wall where he had earlier moved it to facilitate her practice session. She realized that he had left it that way to give her plenty of room to swing that belt at his bottom. The pillow was still there, he would need that one to pad his hips and help raise his bottom, and perhaps another to hug and bury his face into while the belt was doing its job.

Sitting there watching a clock that seemed to have stopped all motion, Janet thought back to her own first spanking over Ed’s lap. Both Ed and Janet had been brought up in the same small bible-belt town where spankings were an unquestioned part of their growing up process. So when Janet agreed to their spanking contract, she knew exactly what she was getting in to. During her bachelor life, Janet had screwed up her finances enough to know that she needed some order, rules and authority in her life. Although Janet had a good education and a good job, until she met Ed she had always managed to spend more money than she made. When Ed married Janet, he also married her debt. The couple spent the first 6 months of their marriage sacrificing to pay off Janet’s credit card debt. With her debt now finally paid off, they were saving for the down payment on a house…the house where they planned to soon make children.

Unfortunately, they had only been married a few weeks before Janet forgot the rules and made a large, forbidden, impulse purchase on her credit card that earned her first spanking from Ed. A woman of her word, Janet gave no argument and willingly submitted herself to the sanction prescribed in their agreement, a “regular” spanking. She found the experience of being scolded, stripped naked, and made to place herself across her new husband’s lap to be not only sobering and embarrassing, but also a bit of a secret “turn on”. Ed was too inexperienced at marriage to really tell, but things had been building up inside Janet since the day of their marriage. The dual pressures of the first frugal weeks of their marriage and uncertainties caused by an unfortunately-timed reorganization at work had probably been responsible for pushing her close enough to the edge to cause her to briefly regress to her former irresponsible financial behavior. With her emotions closer to the surface than those of her husband, the process of being scolded, bared, and spanked triggered an almost hysterical emotional release that Ed mistook for the actions of a well-spanked lady. Unfortunately, Ed ended the spanking entirely too early that first time. Oh sure, that spanking put a healthy blush on her bottom, and triggered all those tears, but Janet actually got off very lightly compared to the parental spankings she remembered so well. Ten minutes later, they were in bed “making up” to each other. Her “punishment” and the emotional release it triggered, and the sex that followed actually left her feeling much better than before. Unfortunately, the totality of this first experience of being “taken in hand” by her young husband felt more like some sort of reward than the punishment it was intended to be.

Janet chuckled to herself, remembering Ed’s first attempt at spanking her. Thinking of Ed, she looked at the clock; he had an hour and 45 minutes to go before he was to come out of that bedroom door and request his strapping. She wondered what he was doing and almost gave in to the temptation to go in the bedroom and be with him.

Chapter 5

On the other side of the door, Ed was diligently oiling his belt while remembering Janet’s second spanking, which, not surprisingly, took place only three weeks after the first one. Janet’s lesson obviously had not been learned in that first spanking. This time, Ed did a much more careful job. He had a long “discussion” with Janet about things like personal responsibility and “growing up”. Finally, he directed her to stand between his knees so he could strip her for her punishment. He could have simply told her to prepare herself, but he never got tired of undressing his sexy young wife, even if it was for a punishment session. Shortly thereafter, Ed directed Janet to place herself face down across his lap. This time, Ed made a much better job of it. He spent a full twenty minutes delivering a truly memorable spanking. He started by spanking her bottom until she was bawling and nearly bucking off his lap. Then he gave her a short respite, followed by a short question-and-answer period (punctuated with the occasional spank) and then another bawling, squalling, spanking session exactly like the first. He repeated this entire cycle twice, leaving her bottom a bright scarlet color, tastefully splotched with darker areas that might later turn into bruises. He left her across his lap for a further ten minutes, leaving her in suspense, not knowing if more spanks were to follow. Finally he let her up, thoroughly spanked, thoroughly impressed, and thoroughly forgiven, and hopefully with her lesson finally learned. She immediately curled up on his lap to be hugged tightly by him why she gradually calmed down. During the first part of her spanking, Janet had distinctly felt something hard against her belly, evidence that Ed was as turned on as she was. As the spanking progressed, the hardness either went away, or was drowned out by the sting in her bottom and her own sexual excitement was soon forgotten as Ed built a memorable sting in her bottom. Now spanked, forgiven and ensconced in the arms of her husband/lover the throbbing in her bottom eased and her tears dried enough that she again became aware of a delicious itch between her legs. Minx-like, she slid to the floor and unzipped Ed’s fly. She quickly found the source of the hardness she had noticed earlier and then put it to good use.

Although neither was ready to admit it to the other, they were both finding out that spousal spanking is far more complicated than it first appears. Janet was discovering that being spanked involved measures of both pain and pleasure, and Ed was discovering that spanking his wife was far more than just a solemn, sad duty; in fact, it was a secret turn-on for him.

Chapter 6

Back in the bedroom, it was now 5:40 and Ed had dragged out the belt-oiling job as long as possible. Deciding that being “ready in all respects” for his strapping could logically include being freshly showered, and since their bath was accessible from their bedroom, he stripped off the rest of his clothing and stepped into the shower. Although the steamy, though solitary, shower was a good diversion, and felt good on his skin, it also reminded him of his situation, because Janet normally joined him for his after-work shower and he sorely missed her feminine presence.

Janet heard the water running in the bath and again started to weaken and consider joining him in the shower. She dearly wished she could be with Ed. She knew that two hours was a long time for him to wait for a spanking, but she wanted to be sure that Ed was stone sober for his punishment, that is why she made sure that he had a good meal when he got home and delayed his spanking for those extra two hours. She was glad that he had decided to take that shower; it would help ensure that he was fully sober and it would wash the bar smell off of him.

“Delay”…”spanking”…those thoughts lead her to remember her last spanking; she ended up waiting a whole day for that one! It all started on Columbus Day, a day that was a holiday at Janet’s office but for Ed was a normal workday. Staying home by herself, Janet gave the house a good cleaning and then sat down to relax in front of the TV. Never one to watch soap operas, she turned to the shopping channel. She couldn’t believe her eyes; she knew that ring that was glittering on her screen. She had seen it selling for much more money! They were selling a $999 genuine diamond ring for only $399 and only two were left at that price! Feverishly, she picked up the phone and dialed the 800 number. She held her breath, hoping that she would get an answer before it was too late. Se was relieved when an operator picked up the line on the second ring and took her order. She was just in time to get the last one. As Janet recited her credit card number from memory, she was thinking how impressed Ed would be at her shopping acumen. Her quick action had saved $600.00!

Amazingly, it took a full 60 minutes before sanity started to return. As she got over her excitement, she began to realize that Ed might not be quite as thrilled as she was. Instead of seeing that $600 savings, Ed was probably short-sighted enough to only see a $399 impulse purchase. Finally, she realized that was exactly what Ed would think and that her butt was in big trouble. She picked up the phone and redialed the 800 number to cancel her order. This time it seemed to take a long time for someone to answer the phone. After dealing with their automated attendant for what seemed like an hour, she finally got a human on the phone who was finally able to find the record of her transaction in the computer. “Sorry” the clerk said, “that order is in the shipping department and it is too late for it to be retrieved”. The clerk assured Janet that the Shopping Channel had a liberal return policy and all she had to do was ship the ring back within 30 days for a full refund. Janet felt a strange chill that seemed to start somewhere in the vicinity of her buttocks.

Janet’s musings were interrupted momentarily by the sound of Ed turning the water off in the bathroom. Ed’s shower was over. It was now 5:55 PM, more than an hour to go before Janet must discipline her husband for drinking and driving.

Janet continued to relive her last spanking from Ed. (Perhaps she was combing it for clues on how to handle today’s situation.) By the end of the afternoon, Janet had decided that it would be best if she leveled with Ed about her “near purchase” as soon as he got home from work. Finally, he came in the front door, and kissed her passionately. She just couldn’t bring herself to ruin that moment, so she waited. Somehow, she just couldn’t bear to bring it up during their usual after-work ritual of supper, dishes and shower, so she continued to procrastinate. Her confession was further delayed when their mutual toweling-off after their tandem shower turned into a torrid lovemaking session. Finally, when they were settling down in the living room for the evening, she brought it up; “honey, I almost did something stupid today”. Ed quietly extracted the entire story from his suddenly contrite wife and then boiled it down to two questions. “So you are telling me that there is a charge on our credit card for $399?” “$399 plus postage, handling and insurance” Janet admitted. “And this ring that you bought is being shipped to us right now?” “Well, I didn’t really buy it, I am going to send it back” she said reasonably. “The simple fact is that you have violated our agreement” said Ed firmly. “In any case, we would be returning the ring because it is not in our budget.” Can’t you let me off just this once?” she whined, “I already said I am going to fix it.”

Ed stood, went to the closet, and retrieved their agreement from the simple plastic crate that served as their file cabinet. “Read this and read the parts out loud that apply to this situation Ed commanded.” Janet read in silence for perhaps five minutes, scanning the entire document for some loophole that would save her bottom. Finally she read softly; “I understand that I will be spanked without fail if I commit any of the offenses on these lists” Janet read. After another pause, she finally concluded bravely; “Impulse buying is on the list and I guess I did that and I guess I have no right to ask you not to spank me”. “Correct” said Ed, “now keep reading, there is something else; under “special” spankings.” Janet looked puzzled for a moment. When her eyes grew wide, Ed knew she had found it: she read in a flat voice, “for three or more like offenses from the “regular” list within any consecutive 12 month period, the ‘special’ punishment will apply.” As the words came out, tears came to her eyes.

Ed gave her a kiss and a hug. “I know that you obviously did not think this all the way through, but that is exactly your problem that needs correction”. “Now you have to ask me for a spanking with a hairbrush and I have to deliver”. Choking back her tears, Janet asked her husband to please give her a hard spanking with a hairbrush. “Let’s get dressed and go shopping” Ed said in his most offhand manner. This floored Janet for a moment until she realized that obtaining a suitable spanking hairbrush was a detail that they had so far neglected.

Finding the perfect spanking brush was not as easy as either one of them expected. Their trip to the mall was a complete waste, as was their search of the largest drug store in town. The local beauty supply store may have been a real possibility, but it was closed for the evening. Almost on a lark, they stopped as a small country “general” store on their way home. They were almost too late; the clerk was in the process of sweeping the wooden floors in preparation for closing time. There, sitting on a shelf was exactly the brush that they were looking for. It was obviously made to resemble one of those old fashioned ivory hairbrushes that one sees in pictures, but was made of some sort of white, indestructible, plastic material. It had just the right shape and heft for the job, with nicely rounded curves and no sharp edges. Amazingly, the price was less than ten dollars. As Ed paid for the brush out of the meager cash in his wallet, the proprietor asked if they had any kids. “No”, said Ed, “why do you ask?” “Because I don’t think too many of these are actually used to brush hair” he remarked, “they get lots of use on another part of the anatomy. The word has gotten around and parents drive for miles just to come here and buy one of those.” At this, both Ed and Janet blushed, but Janet’s face turned a deep scarlet; probably tipping the wise old man off to the brush’s intended use and to its intended target.

When they finally got home with their new acquisition, it was nearly 9 PM. “Janet, you have a tough decision to make.” Ed said. “You have a very hard spanking coming with corner time before and after, and I refuse to rush the process. You can have your punishment right now if you wish, but tomorrow morning I will expect you to get up and go to work regardless of how your bottom feels. Your decision is this; do you want to start your punishment right now or do you want to wait until tomorrow?” ”Since tomorrow is Friday, you would have all weekend for your bottom to recover if you wait”. Janet anguished for a full five minutes before she finally decided to wait for her punishment.

The next day was hell for Janet, trying to be productive at work while knowing that hairbrush was waiting for her at home. She found herself wishing desperately that she had gone ahead and gotten her spanking over with the previous evening, even if it did make sitting down at her desk a problem.

Finally it happened. After work, after supper, and after their early evening shower, Janet found herself naked in the corner, holding her new hairbrush, sniffling back tears and wondering how long Ed was going to make her stew before leading her to the straight-backed chair he had placed in the middle of the room for her spanking. It turned out to be about 20 minutes before she was taken out of the corner, but then she had a scolding to endure. Without laying a hand on her, Ed’s lecture had Janet crying real tears. His words finally all said, Ed’s voice trailed off into silence.

He stared silently into his beloved wife’s tear-streaked face for what seemed to her like an hour, but was probably only two minutes. Finally, Ed stood and gathered the trembling lady into a lingering full-body hug. He mumbled into her ear “you know I have to make this a good one?” She nodded miserably. “You know that I love you don’t you?” She nodded emphatically. Taking his seat again, Ed held out his hand for the hairbrush and motioned his naked wife across his knees. He placed the hairbrush beside the chair, adjusted Janet’s position so that her bottom was at just the right angle, and without further delay started hand-spanking her bare bottom.

Intending to warm her up gradually to prepare her for a real scorching with the paddle, his first few spanks were little more than love pats. Ed spanked tiny blush spots on her buttocks and gradually nurtured and spread the blush until it was expanded evenly all over both cheeks and well down past the crease where bottom stops and thigh starts. Given the lightness of this, first, portion of her spanking, Janet’s squirming movements started surprisingly soon. Perhaps it was nervous energy, or perhaps the spanking stung more than one would think, but more likely her first movements had more to do with a familiar itch between her legs.

Ed luxuriated in this part of the experience, frankly enjoying the touch, the feel, the aroma, and the feminine presence of this perfect woman squirming and bouncing across his lap. With all his heart he loved this wonderful woman who somehow needed him to keep her on the “straight and narrow” and who now so willingly and trustingly placed herself totally at his mercy.

Ed’s left arm tightened around Janet’s waist and she instinctively knew that it was time to move on to the next, harder, portion of her spanking. Ed carefully placed 10 scorching spanks on each buttock while Janet bounced, jiggled, scissored her legs, and howled in protest. Ed paused, giving her two or three minutes to calm down and contemplate the impending next part of her punishment. By now, Janet had been spanked almost as much as she could expect in a “normal” spanking, but this time the hardest part of her punishment was still ahead of her. All too soon, Janet felt Ed reach down and pick up something from the floor; she knew what “that something” must be. Ed threw his right leg over Janet legs, pinning her in place for what was to come. Seconds later, she felt a momentary breeze, and then her right butt cheek exploded in impossible pain. Before her brain could register what was happening, her left buttock received the same treatment. Two more similar blows followed before Janet’s shocked lungs could fill enough to properly energize her vocal cords into an appropriate shriek. Ed continued spanking that firm, kinetic, bottom at a relentless pace. She kicked, she twisted, she bucked, but Ed was ready for her every move and easily kept her in position so that he could continue his duty. After a very few more swats, her right hand came back in a futile attempt to defend her bottom, but Ed only missed one beat with the hairbrush as he grabbed the wayward hand and pressed it into the small of her back. This part of the spanking did not last too long. It couldn’t; that hairbrush propelled by the full strength Ed’s arm could quickly do serious damage. But it lasted plenty long enough to leave Janet bawling, thoroughly spanked, and totally spent across her husband’s lap. That hairbrush left a bright patina of color across Janet’s bottom that fascinated Ed. He had no doubt that she would be feeling this spanking for several days to come.

Ed helped the spanked, still sobbing lady to her feet and firmly propelled her back to her former corner to for another 20 minutes of solitary contemplation time before finally declaring her punishment over and leading her to the bedroom. There, she laid belly down on the bed and Ed gently applied soothing cream onto her bottom. As he rubbed down past her sit spot, she brazenly pulled her knees up under her and spread them wide apart, wordlessly inviting him to probe further and further down between her legs. As he worked, her former ardor returned with a sweet vengeance. Moments later the lights were out, Ed was naked next to his wife, and Janet was working diligently to find a comfortable position to do those special things that contented, loving, couples do together.

Chapter 7

Thoughts of the bedroom suddenly brought Janet back to the present, reminding her of Ed. What was he doing? All she could hear was silence. She decided it was time to plan what she was going to say to him before his strapping.

On the other side of the bedroom door, Ed was through with his shower and all of the activities that went along with it. With no point in putting clothes back on, he simply wrapped a towel around himself. There was nothing left to do but stop procrastinating and use the remaining 50 minutes to sit down and think of the people he knew who had been affected by drunk driving, just as Janet had directed him to do. Naturally, the first person that he thought of was his uncle Sammy. Sam, his father’s oldest brother, had been a bit of a “problem drinker”. Nobody really thought of him as an alcoholic, just a guy who always seemed to have a beer in his hand and sometimes drank way too much. The whole town was shocked when Sam met his solitary end by smashing his car against a roadside tree at the edge of town. Sam died halfway between the bar where he had drunk away the evening and his home. The tree still bears the scar. Even sadder than Sam’s case, were the two families in Ed’s church that were innocent victims of drunken drivers one lost a child and the other its breadwinner.

Just as Janet intended, these thoughts were putting Ed in a proper frame of mind for his coming correction. There were even real tears forming as Ed thought again of his dangerous, stupid actions of today and how he never wanted it to happen again. Now that he was really beginning to dread his coming punishment, he looked up and was amazed at how fast the clock seemed to be running. He now had only 20 minutes to wait; suddenly 20 minutes was not nearly long enough! He was starting to get that feeling in the pit of his stomach again. A true dread of what was about to happen seemed to settle in his throat and form a knot, making it almost impossible to swallow. He had to jump up to take a nervous pee and his towel fell off in the process. He did not bother picking it up. He needed to be naked for what was going to happen to him in just a very few minutes.

Perversely, Ed picked up his belt and stared at it as if he had never seen it before. It suddenly seemed amazing to him that this very belt was shortly going to turn his bottom bright red. The oil treatment had made the leather distinctly less stiff, the better to spank him with. It seemed ironic to Ed that Janet had bought him that belt for his birthday. He suddenly wondered for the first time; did she pick it out with this purpose in mind? After all, it was perfect for the job. It was fairly wide for a dress belt, and made of two strips of genuine leather stitched together back-to-back so it had two smooth sides. Although it was not like the heavy, wide work belt his father had used on him, Ed had no doubt that this belt was plenty heavy enough to do a memorable job on his bottom. He scrunched his buttocks and tried (unsuccessfully it turned out) to imagine what the first strokes would feel like.

Suddenly Ed looked up and saw that it was 7:01. He jumped up and literally ran out of the door to his fate. He did not want to risk Janet’s ire by making her wait. Halfway across the living room, he realized that he had dropped the belt on the bed in his haste; he spun around to retrieve it. “Grab another pillow” Janet called out behind him. Ed re-emerged from the bedroom with the belt in one hand and the pillow in the other. His heart thumping desperately, he stood expectantly in front of his wife’s chair. All kinds of thoughts and emotions were competing for attention inside Ed’s head. Sexual stirrings were swirling around mixed with remembrances of childhood spankings. His penis was at half-mast and he was horribly afraid that it would snap to attention, betraying the sexual images in his head. I didn’t help that Janet was still dressed in her business clothes, giving here a severe look that suddenly evoked a vision of his elementary school principle, (a lady who had spanked him a time or five). Ed struggled to push his emotional baggage aside and concentrate on what Janet was saying. Janet started to deliver the scolding that she had mentally rehearsed, but suddenly stopped. She was sitting on a dining room chair, next to the couch where the spanking was going to happen, and a nude Ed was obediently standing in front of her with the tool of his correction in his right hand. She quickly realized that this arrangement left them at different levels. It just felt too funny to be talking to Ed’s penis, which just happened to be pointing right at her as if it were a microphone! She decided that they both needed to be at the same level for their talk. “Go get a dining room chair and sit down in front of me so we can talk” she ordered. Ed obeyed.

The “talk” that followed took over 30 minutes. It was actually quite productive and unusually “2-way” for what was supposed to be a pre-spanking scolding. Their contract only specified “DUI” as a spanking offense and they now realized that was not quite sufficient. While they left that part in, they decided to add a more specific rule to their contract to forbid driving after more than two drinks. After questioning Ed about the results of his “homework” Janet brought the talk to an end by telling Ed about how much she loved him and how barren her life would be if she ever lost him. At that, Ed actually broke down and sobbed a bit. Finally she said without the slightest rancor, “It is time for you to hand me that belt and get into position so I can spank that bare tush of yours so we can be sure that you will never drink and drive again.” She held out her hand for the strap and received it. Noticing something different, she sniffed and felt it. “You oiled it for me?” she asked. “Yes” he said, his voice wavering a bit, “I want this to hurt” “Don’t worry” she said “it will”.

The couch (a “hand-me-down” from the in-laws) had rather high, narrow, and uncomfortable arms that were little more than slightly padded boards. At least they would offer a convenient place for Janet to restrain Ed’s waist in place in the unlikely event it became necessary. Janet had thought of that; two of Ed’s old neckties could secure his waste and another could bind his wrists together. It sounded terrible to think of this sort of thing, but Janet knew that she would never have been able to stay in position for her own hairbrush spanking if Ed had not been able to pin her down into place. There was no way she could do the same for Ed because he would be bent over the couch, not her lap. Anyhow, he is stronger than her and Janet doubted that she could ever hold him if he really wanted to move. Ed was only human and she intended this spanking to hurt!

Chapter 8

Janet escorted Ed to the end of the couch. “Before you get in place, remember what I said before; ‘let it out’, it is perfectly OK to make noise. If you can’t stay in place or if you can’t keep your hands out of the danger zone, I will understand and I have a plan to deal with that. You may tell me when you think you have been spanked enough, but this spanking does not end until I also think you have had enough, and I think you need a lot!” Ed nodded his understanding. Janet placed one pillow where Ed’s face was going to be, and held the other on the narrow arm of the couch. Ed got into place; his hips supported and raised high by the pillow-topped arm of the couch, his arms hugging the pillow and his face buried in it. His toes were digging into the carpet; his feet seemed to be in constant motion, perhaps seeking a non-existent comfortable position. Janet grabbed his hips and carefully adjusted him outward a bit so that his knees bent slightly, presenting his firm bottom at just the right angle to intercept the strap.
Janet stood back and surveyed her target. Ed’s legs were just far enough apart that she could see the back of his scrotum. That seemed dangerous so she told him to keep his legs together for his own safety. Neither one of them wanted that belt tip to find the family jewels! Ed reached down and adjusted himself so that the pillow was protecting his privates, pulled his knees tightly together and resumed his death grip on the pillow. He was as ready as he was ever going to be.

Janet wrapped the buckle end of the belt around her right hand, moved to Ed’s left side and judged her range. Ed’s still unmarked bottom clenched and relaxed, clenched and relaxed. She timed herself, raised the belt, and made it snap down on her husband’s bottom just at the moment when he unclenched. Perhaps Ed had been expecting Janet to give some sort of warning before she started, but that first stroke caught him entirely by surprise. He heard a “whistle-snap” sound which he at first did not connect with the unexpected blinding pain across both buttocks and around to his right hip. Ed bucked, snapped his neck back and howled in protest. Ed’s plan to demonstrate his manhood by remaining stoic for at least the first part of his spanking was immediately foiled. Janet now had complete control of the situation and she had no plans to relinquish it until Ed’s punishment was complete. By the time the fourth stroke fell, Ed’s bottom was in constant motion, moving both in reaction to the swats and in a futile, involuntary effort to avoid that terrible belt. Ed’s bottom was being “bad” and not staying still for the belt, but his top part was still desperately trying to be “good” and stay in place so his punishment could continue. As if this spanking were some terrible mistake, Ed was sobbing “wait, stop, wait, stop”. As she had promised to do, Janet ignored Ed’s pleas and continued her work with surprising power and accuracy.

The first set of four swats delivered with a relentless, but measured pace, Janet changed sides and changed hands so that she could land the next swats from Ed’s other side. These left-handed swats, not quite a hard nor as coordinated as the right-handed ones, were a bit easier for Ed to take, until the last one, when Janet backed off a bit too far and the belt hit only his right cheek, allowing the tip to dig directly into his cleft. Ed howled in agony but barely managed to remain in place. One hand started to come off the pillow, and reach back, but Ed caught it just in time and wrapped it back around the pillow. By now his shoulders were shaking and sounds were filtering through Ed’s pillow that sounded a lot like sobs. “Watch those hands!” Janet warned as she changed sides for the next set of four swats. Janet started this next assault faster and (if possible) harder than the others. This created a reaction from Ed that neither one of them expected; he panicked. Ed jumped up and took three whole paces away from the couch before he realized what he was doing. Before Janet could say anything, Ed sobbed out an apology and quickly got back into position, sneaking a rub or two on his bottom in the process. “If you do that again I am going to have to restrain you” Janet said, not totally unkindly. “You won’t have to”, Ed promised, “I will stay in place…somehow.”

“This one is sort of extra” Janet said, giving him a wicked upward swat that contacted virgin territory at the intersection of leg and buttcheek, literally lifting Ed’s feet off the ground and making him howl as he experienced an entirely new level of pain. Ed was desperate to find some way of enduring what was happening to him while still retaining some tiny shred of his male dignity. He tried mental distraction, thinking up synonyms for what was happing to him, “spanking, punishment, strapping, whipping, belting, getting ‘it’, whupping, thrashing, beating, flogging”, and finally the family favorite “oiling the belt”. It didn’t work for long, those last, harder, belt strokes broke through his reserve and he found himself laying there seemingly absorbing his punishment like an adult, except that he was sobbing like a child.

Janet stopped to appraise her work. “Tell me again why you are getting this punishment” she demanded. At first Ed didn’t seem to hear, and Janet repeated the question. Finally he croaked out an answer; “because I drove drunk.” “Tell me more” Janet demanded. “…and that was a stupid, thoughtless, dangerous thing to do” Ed continued. In a softer tone, Janet changed the subject. “Ed, we agreed that you were going to tell me when you thought that you had been sufficiently punished. I think we are about 80% there; what do you think? Ed groaned, but agreed. The truth was, he would have been perfectly happy to end it now, but some part of him still remembered that he needed this spanking

“The last part is going to be hard and fast” she warned, “but it will be over in just a minute or so if you can stay in place, otherwise it might take a lot longer” Ed nodded his understanding, and braced himself for what was to come, resolving to stay in place so that his punishment could end. Janet wanted this punishment to really “mean something”, and she knew that she was close to taking Ed exactly where she thought a hard spanking should take someone; it should be well past their comfort zone and just enough to push them a bit “over the edge”.

Janet stepped to the left, took a deep breath, wound up like a pitcher on the mound, and snapped the belt at her husband’s already red bottom. Ed’s bottom reacted by bucking, clenching and trying to move as far away as possible from the last location of that hurtful belt. Ed himself reacted by screaming and hugging his pillow desperately. In a matter of seconds, Janet repeated the stroke five more times, paused momentarily to inspect her work, and then changed sides and began to deliver another set of six fast swats.

In our culture, it is not usually permissible for a man to cry, but that is exactly what Ed was now doing as he absorbed this last flurry of swats from his wife…and why not? The last time that Ed’s father had spanked him with the belt, (at the age of 18) Ed had reacted just like the time before, he had bawled unashamedly. Now, at 22, there was really no reason to think that things should be any different. That belt hurts! As Janet continued her work, she saw that the fight was just about gone from Ed, and she could also see that Ed had “lost it”; he was bawling his hurt, his embarrassment, and his guilt into that pillow.

Changing hands and sides yet again, Janet delivered yet another set of six belt strokes to Ed bottom which had not ceased most of its former movement. These spanks were not quite as fast or hard as those that preceded them, they were intended to be just sufficient to keep Ed in that same mental place for a few more moments.

Janet decided that Ed had been sufficiently punished and told him so, laying the belt next to him on the couch. Ed did not seem to notice what Janet said to him, nor did Janet expect him to. She knelt down next to the couch and gently stroked her husband and murmured calming, forgiving words in his ear as he slowly calmed down and gradually returned to awareness. Finally he seemed to understand that his spanking was over and that is wife was near him. He turned a tear-wet face to her and kissed her on the cheek. He looked at her expectantly, wordlessly asking what was next. She invited him to get up off the couch. He stirred, stiffly and wobbly, finally gaining his footing and reaching back tentatively, accessing the damage to his bottom. She thought about corner time, but decided that “enough is enough”. She gathered him in a full-body hug, being careful to not touch his bottom. “I think we need to go in the bedroom and doctor you up a bit” she said.

Janet grabbed the pillows and accompanied her husband to the bedroom, where he flopped down on his belly in the middle of the bed. Janet took a moment to undress and grab the lotion, and then dimmed the lights and joined her husband on the bed. She kissed her husband and gently applied lotion to his bright red tush. She never expected that a man experiencing such pain could possibly be interested in, or physically capable of, sex but she soon discovered just how wrong she could be.

That belt was officially retired from its old duty of holding up Ed’s pants. From that day on, it was stored in a special drawer along with the couple’s hairbrush. Next to the belt, one could always find a bottle of Neatsfoot oil. That drawer accumulated a few spanking “toys” over the following years and the couple discovered and mutually explored that portion of their sexuality, but the hairbrush and belt were always reserved for the few “real” disciplinary spankings that occasionally continued to result from their agreement.

Drinking and driving was never again a problem for the couple. Having experienced the belt, Ed had a new understanding and respect for their agreement. He now understood exactly what it felt like to be spanked by a spouse and, now that he had misbehaved and been corrected himself, he had a new tolerance for his wife’s shortcomings. But especially, he appreciated how their agreement defused what could be so many opportunities for conflict between them, by having behavior expectations and consequences for misbehavior previously agreed upon.

Copyright (c) Guy Spencer 2005


“Don’t you talk to me like that…”

“Look,” my friend said, showing me three IDs in her hand. I looked
closely, seeing one in which my picture was placed and a fake named
was next to it.

“What’s this?” I asked, taking a sip of my Dr. Pepper.

“It’s a fake ID, dummy,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I got one for
me, you, and Amber. I figure we can sneak into the club tonight and
nobody’ll find out.”

“But I have to work..” I said, not exactly wanting to try to sneak
into any club. I really am a good kid, no matter what anyone says.
As a 17 year old, I have only drank once or twice, never smoked, not
that I cared to, and I didn’t do any drugs. I was a good kid.

“That’s why we’re going after work. Come on, Jenn.. Just go with
us, please? It’ll be more fun with you.”

“I highly doubt that,” I said. “You know how much I have anxiety. I
just don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Come onnn,” she begged. “Please come with us. It’ll be fine.
Nobody will catch us or anything. Besides, these look real, don’t

I looked over the ID again.

Chelsea Nicole Williamson Birthdate: 2/24/84

Maybe I could pass for being 19. I didn’t know though. “Do I
honestly look 19?”

“They’ll never know the difference. I’ll pick you up after work. We
can leave your car there. Tell your mom you’re staying the night
with me.”

I sighed as she walked off. It was a Friday afternoon, and I was
antsy for school to end. That’s how all Fridays are. That night,
one of my favorite bands was playing at a local club downtown at
midnight. I wanted so badly to go, but I didn’t honestly think that
Hillary would go so far. I mean, come on… the band wasn’t that

“Jennifer… why aren’t you paying attention?” my English teacher
asked. I knew good and well why I wasn’t paying attention, but I
wasn’t saying that aloud.

“Awww, come on Mrs. Jones. It’s a Friday afternoon, the last class
of the day. Can’t we chill out for a little wihle? It’s been a long

The class agreed, nodding their heads up and down, chanting, “yeah.”

“Well,” she said, looking at everyone. “I guess.”

I grinned as did everyone else in the class. That was the advantage
of being in a small class. A better relationship with the
teacher. “But we will discuss The Grapes of Wrath Monday. Be
prepared for a quiz…”

By this time, no one was listening, but instead carrying on their own
conversations within the small groups. I, on the other hand, took
this time to lie my head down and just think for a while. Think
about how I could pull off going to this club tonight. I mean, I was
almost 18… it wasn’t too illegal. And the cops wouldn’t know if I
was really 17 or not. I could leave my real ID at home, or in my

Hillary met me after school. “So, I’ll meet you tonight at Pizza
Palace?” she asked, a huge grin on her face.

“I reckon,” I said in my best country voice, grinning back. Pizza
Palace was the place I worked at.

So I did just as planned. I told my mom I’d be staying with Hillary
that night, and we were going to go downtown to a concert for a
little while. Hey, it was partly true. I found some of my best
raver clothes so I could change whenever I was finished at work. I
dressed myself in my ugly khakies and Pizza Palace shirt, though, and
headed off to work before I could even think about having a fun
filled evening.

I practically danced around the kitchen at work, making pizzas,
giving people their change back, listening to complaints about
someone having not enough cheese, or too much sauce, or anything
riduculous that one could complain about. Friday nights were always

Around 9, two hours before I should be heading out to the club, my
driver buddy, Terrence, had this huge order.

“Where the hell is that going to?” I asked, raising my eyebrows as I
made a medium thin crust extra pepperoni pizza.

“Some church,” he muttered, obviously not enthused.

“Ohhh,” I said, grinning. “To a church, eh? I’m glad I don’t have
to go to a church… I’d…”

“Jennifer..” a manager called.

“Yes?” I said in my most polite voice.

“Will you take that order with Terrence? There’s a lot of pizzas to
hold and stuff, and it’ll just be easier with two people.”

Terrence smirked at me as I scowled under my breath. “Yes, ma’am,” I
said, trying to maintain that politeness.

“So what would you do if you had to go to the church?” he asked,
mockingly, grinning from ear to ear.

I just glared at him. Well, at least if I had to go with someone, it
was Terrence, the coolest person I worked with. He was a 21 year old
college football player, about 6’1, probably 215 pounds. He could
lift me up without straining the least bit… probably even bench
press me, but I wasn’t going to try that. In fact, he was so strong,
I had learned not to even playfully punch him, cause his playful
punches back seemed to be much more than playful, you know… kinda

I helped Terrence pack his shit up and carried it out to his beat up
old car, placing some bags in the backseat, then sitting in the
passengers seat myself, putting some in my lap. I buckled myself in
tightly, almost fearing for my life. Terrence didn’t look like he’d
be the greatest driver in the world…

Needless to say, we made it there safely, and back safely, he making
fun of me the entire way cause I had popped off something to him
about having to go to a church and I ended up having to go myself. I
still glared at him, partly because of him making fun of me, but also
cause I hated the music that he was playing.

Finally my evening at work was finished.

“All right, everyone!” I yelled, loud enough so the entire store
could hear me. “I’m gone. See ya tomorrow!” I said cheerfully.

I heard a few scattered “bye”s around the room and then I looked at
Terrece, playfully punching him on the arm.

“Later,” I said, smiling big and cheesy.

He punched me back. “Later.”


I slammed open the door and arrived outside where I met Hillary.

“Hillareee!” I squeeled. I launched myself into her car and we sped
off to the club, a dim lit place with a cheap sign that read “the

The three of us, Hillary, Amber, and me, arrived around 11:30 to this
club. We got in without a problem, and walked around for a little
while, hoping to catch a few people we knew, but to no avail. I
wasn’t worried about it though. There were plenty of hott guys there

At midnight sharp the band began playing, and the three of us danced
together, even started our own little mosh pit, trying to get some of
the 20 year-olds to join in with us. Of course we were immature, and
we definitely didn’t fit in.

“Want a drink?” I heard a voice say as the band finished up one of
their songs and I cheered loudly. I turned to see this really sexy
guy behind me, holding two drinks in his hands. I didn’t know what
they were, and honestly didn’t care to try them, but this guy was
super hott.

“No, thanks,” I said, nearly kicking myself for being so dumb.

He just shrugged and muttered, “suit yourself,” then walked off,
probably trying to find another girl to get wasted and rape. I
wasn’t going for that tonight.

As the night progressed, the crowd thickened, and the band still
played on. I lost track of Amber and Hillary for a while, but always
found them back. That is, except when the time came that I needed

“Hey, baby,” I heard an older voice say, and felt a man’s body
pressing against me. I turned around and stared directly into the
face of a man, probably in his 30s, only an inch or so taller than
me. I said nothing, just turned back around and inched away from
him. “What, did you mother never teach you any manners?” he asked in
a slurred voice. He had apparently had too much to drink… I just
ignored him though, still listening to the band. “Listen here,
little missy,” he said, grabbing my arm and turning me around.

“Let me GO!” I shouted over the music.

“You’ll respect me! I’m your elders!”

“Leave me alone.”

“I think I need to teach you a lesson…” he slurred once more, not
letting go of my arm, attempting to drag me out of the room.

“Let GO!” I shouted again.

“Don’t you talk to me like that…”

I tried to break free but his grip was too strong. What was this
creepy guy going to do to me?

He dragged me away from the crowd to one of the bar stools where he
shoved me down on it. He slapped me across the face. My eyes began
to tear up. “Now you lissen to me..” he said. “Drink this.” He put
a beer in front of me.

“No,” I said, wanting to get out of here, but he was all on top of me.

“Now, now, don’t be fiesty!” he said, moving his face closer to
mine. I was getting disgusted.

He began trying to kiss all over me and I tried to push him off and I
was muttering obscenities, trying to back away whenever I
heard.. “Leave her alone.” The man stopped what he was doing and
looked behind him. I looked up and saw a large familiar person, his
huge frame towering over ours. He had his hand on the man’s
shoulder. “Now, this young lady here doesn’t want to be around you,
so I suggest you leave her alone, or you can leave.”

The man just glared at the figure and stumbled away.

The figure turned back to me. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Terrence nearly shouted.

“Uhmmmm..” I muttered. “Just coming to see this band.”

“You’re not even old enough to be in here! How the hell did you get

“I uh… I am old enough..” I said, trying to sound convincing. “My
birthday was yesterday.”

“Like hell it was yesterday. Where’s your ID?”

I dug around in my wallet that was in my back pocket and dug out my
fake ID, then handed it to him.

“Fake ID, huh? Do you realize how much you put yourself in danger,
Jennifer?” he asked, giving me that same glare I had given him the
entire rest of the night. I didn’t speak, just looked down at the
floor, it becoming more interesting by the moment. “Look at me!” he
said, putting his fingers under my chin and lifting my face up where
my blue eyes looked directly into his. “It’s late. You’re at a club
where you’re too young to get in, and it’s really dangerous. You
could get hurt or raped. Any weirdo in here could get you a drink.
You shouldn’t be here.”

I nodded.

“Come on,” he said, taking my hand and kind of forcing me to hop off
of the barstool and walk with him. For the first time that night I
noticed that he was wearing khakies and a white undershirt that
showed off his muscles well, and he was wearing a nametag, evidence
that he was indeed employed here. I knew he worked at a club, but I
didn’t know it was this one…

We finally arrived in the back of the club, in a tiny room that
resembled an office. There was a desk with a chair sitting behind it
and two chairs in front.

“Jennifer,” he said sternly, “what you did tonight was very
dangerous, and very stupid, too, might I add.” I nodded, feeling
pretty stupid myself. “And, you had a fake ID,” he said, holding the
plastic up in his hand to prove that it was true. “And that’s
illegal.” He threw my ID into the trashcan. “I have to punish you
for this.”

“Please don’t call the cops,” I begged, instantly thinking of the
worst thing he could do.

“Well, it’s either that or I can…” his voice trailed off.

“Can what?” I asked.

“Spank you.”

My heart stopped there and I blinked at him. “Ex.. excuse me?” I

“I can either call the cops or I can spank you.”

“But… Terrence… I’m 17… that’s too old..”

“Then I’ll call the cops,” he said, moving towards the desk.

“No,” I said. “It’s okay… I’ll..” I gulped, “take the spanking.”

He nodded. “Have you ever been spanked before?”

I shook my head. My parents never really believed in that kind of
stuff… besides, I never really needed it…

He nodded and sat down in a chair beside me. “Well,” he began, “you
definitely deserve it for doing this, Jenn… I can’t believe you.
You’re a great kid… you shouldn’t be sneaking into clubs like this.”

I nodded.

“First, I want you to pull down your pants…”

I blinked again, not certain that I honestly wanted to do this. I
was frozen in place, my hands dropped by my side, staring at
Terrence. He wanted me to do what?

“Jennifer… pull down your pants..”

“I… I uhmm…”

He waited patiently for a little bit then said, “I’ll pull them down
if you don’t…”

I think that was a pretty big threat, but a tear slipped down my
cheek and I let out a whine. “Please, Terrence…” I begged.

“I can call the police if you want me to..” he said, sticking with
his spanking or cops deal that he had made with me.

I wiped more tears out of my eyes, then unbuttoned the baggy jeans
that I was wearing and let them fall to the floor. I sniffled then
waited to see what I’d have to do next.

“I’m going to spank you on your bare bottom, okay?” he said in a calm
voice. “And it’s going to hurt, a lot. That’s the point, okay?” I
felt so young again… so much like a 7 year old than a 17 year

But I nodded as he grasped my left arm and led me closer to
him. “And I’m going to put you over my knee and you’re going to
remain there for a long time so I know that you learned your lesson.
Is there anything you want to ask me or say before I begin?”

“I… I’m.. sorry,” I said, still shocked that the night would have
to end this way.

He nodded. “I know, Jenn.” He pulled me over his lap and I stared
at the floor for a moment.

I felt a cool breeze as he tugged my panties down and it took all of
my inner strength to only blush instead of kick and scream.

“Getting a fake ID isn’t a good thing, Jenn,” he said softly.


His first spank landed sharply across my right cheek causing intense
pain to creep through my body.

“Owwww,” I said, being taken by surprise.


The second spank was on my left cheek, causing the same amount of
pain. Now I knew what he meant whenever he gave me playful punches,
cause those were nothing compared to this.

“Owwwww,” I whined again.


He alternated from cheek to cheek, causing my bottom to warm up and
no longer feel that nice cool breeze..


“Owwwwwwwww, owwwieeee,” I whined, kicking and screaming as the pain
being inflicted on my bottom increased. “Owwwwwwww, Terrence… I’m
sorrrrryyyyyy,” i whined, allowing a few tears to flow from my eyes.


“Arrrrrrrrggghhhhh, owwwwwwww, ahhhhhh, owwwwwwwwww.” My legs kicked
like crazy, and I squirmed and wiggled over his lap, but he had a
firm grip on me and I didn’t move too far.


He landed 20 sharp smacks on my sit spots and I was at this point
kicking more than ever.

“You sneaked into a club, young lady,” he scolded. “You’re only 17
years old, you still have another year. You could have gotten
arrested, or even worse, raped by some old sick guy. I don’t think
you understand how serious this is.”

“I doooooo,” I whined, tears freely flowing down my face.


“I don’t think you do.”

My legs kicked more and more and I cried harder and harder. “But I
doooooo,” I whined, no longer paying attention to the floor, but
instead paying attention to the stinging in my bottom.


“And I’m sure you lied to your mother about where you were going.
Surely your mom wouldn’t allow you to go to a club like this.”


“Ooowwwwwwwwwwwwww, owwwwwieeeee,” I cried out, trying to block the
smacks from my bottom, but Terrence had pressed my hands down to my
back and held them there.

“Did you, Jennifer? Did you lie to your mom?”




He stopped spanking for a moment and rubbed my bottom a bit, taking
some of the sting out. “I’m sorry I have to do this,” he said
softly. “But I have to impress upon you the dangers of what you did.”

“But I knowwww,” I said, still crying heavily.

“I’m almost finished,” he assured me, then lifted his hand back up.


“Owwwwwwwwww… Terrence it hurtsssssss,”

“It’s supossed to hurt.”


“Owwww…. owwwwwwieeeeeowwwowowowwwwwww…” I whined crying like
crazy and bouncing up and down on his knee.


I cried and cried, finally too worn out to kick anymore, and I lay
limply over his lap, just crying and bawling like a baby.


Terrence rested his hand on my bottom one final time. “Okay,
Jennifer… I’m finished,” he said in a soothing voice. “Shhh,
shh… don’t cry anymore little buddy, I’m all done.”

He let me lay there for a little while and regain my composure before
he lifted me up and hugged me tight, letting me lie my head on his

“I’m sorry,” I muttered through sobs. “I won’t do it again.”

“You’re a good girl, Jennifer,” he said, patting my head and stroking
my hair softly. “I know you won’t do it again. Shhh, shh…” he
said still holding me in his arms.

After a while I pulled my panties and pants back up, wiped my face
off with a wet papertowel, then went back to the club to find Hillary
and Amber and go home.

“Where the hell have you been!” Hillary said. “We’ve been looking
all around for you.”

“Oh, I was just… talking with an old friend..” I said, blushing a

The three of us left, me hobbling out of there, still feeling a sting
in my bottom. I even winced a bit whenever I sat down in the car,
avoiding the looks that I was getting from Amber and Hillary.

“That wasn’t worth it,” Hillary finally said.

“Sure wasn’t. I’m not going clubbing again til I’m 18.”

The girls silently agreed with me.

Daddy’s Twins

Suzy put down the book she was reading. It was Mark twain or samuel
clemens if you would rather have his real name. Anyway she was reading
his book “Tom Sawyer” and quite enjoying it. She had gotten to the
part where Tom Sawyer got a switching at school even though it was his
gf Becky who had done it. Tom had taken the blame because Becky had
never gotten the switch before. Suzy thought back and daydreamed for a
little bit about how cool it would be if someone ever did a thing like
that for her, but all she had was that no good loser of a sister Tory
(short for Victoria) Tory was a couple minutes earlier then she was
because for you see they were Twins Suzy and Tory were. but not just
any twin they were as identical in appearence as you could get.
However in behaviour and personality they were as different as night
and day. In fact at this moment in time Tory was laying on her tummy
face down crying into a pillow and rubbing a sore bottom because she
got an F on a paper and thier dad blistered her bottom with the
hairbrush. Anyway it was time to go to bed, so Suzy got up and turned
off the bedroom and tried to sleep despite Tory’s loud sobs coming
from the bunk above her. from the way she was crying one would think
thier dad came close to killing her but he didn’t he gave a nice
suitable punishment. The Next morning as they were
getting ready for school Suzy reminded Tory about the spelling test
they had that day. Tory started moaning, I forgot to study I wonder if
I could cheat off of someone’s paper. Suzy tried to convince her not
to do it because who ever let her cheat would get in trouble when it
was found out and then thier dad would really give it to her. They
argued about it for a couple more minutes before Suzy ended it by
simply walking away and going down for breakfast. Tory joined her
after a couple more minutes and sat down gingerly on her chair at the
table to a nice breakfast of Bacon and Eggs. Dad turned to her and
reminded her to get good grades or next time it will make yesterday’s
punishment look tame.. Tory gulps and says yes sir and then turning to
her sister reminded her they needed to get going so they could get on
time for school.. scarfing down the last of breakfast they pick up
thier school bags and run out the door giving a kiss to their parents
before jumping on bikes and riding away. When they got to school they
went to thier seperate classrooms. it was a big school so even though
they were twins they went to different rooms. The spelling test was a
breeze and she got an A as usual. She hoped that Tory would get at
least a C that way she could escape another spanking on top of the one
her sister got yesterday. After school she finds her sister and asks
her how it went. Tory looked aweful sick and simply handed her sister
a nite that basically told her parents that Tory failed the spelling
test and because of some grade issues there needed to be a parent
teacher’s meeting at school and if her parents could call the teacher
to set it up. Suzy asked Tory what she was going to do and Tory said
she didn’t know and to let her think about it. they got home and
nothing was said until after dinner. Tory simply put the note on the
kitchen table and waited for her parents to see it and went off to
watch t.v. with Suzy. Her father’s voice bellowed out though after
about 5 minutes and practically shouted out to Tory to get her sorry
butt in the kitchen that instant. Both Suzy and Tory went into the
kitchen. Thier dad asked Tory what the meaning of the note was and
before she said anything Tory shouted I did it!!!! Dad turned out and
said Huh???? I flunked the test and I have been fixing grades not to
get into trouble. the principal since I am a twin simply got confused
and put the wrong name down I am sorry. Tory looked at her with this
shocked expression but remained silent. Dad Ordered Tory to leave the
two of them alone and then turned to Suzy and told her to march
herself into the parents bedroom and get prepared for the spanking of
a life time. Suzy started to cry and simply walked to her parents
room. upon entering she grabbed the hated hairbrush and put it one the
bed. then she unbuckled her pants and took them off along with her
panties. she then folded both into a bundle and put them next to the
bed. Then she went to the corner and kneeled their with her hands on
her head and her nose pressed up against the corner. about 5 minutes
later Dad entered the room and told her she could get up. She stood up
and stood by his side. I am deeply deeply shocked that my sweet little
girl would do this. but since you did and you know that what you did
was wrong I have to punish you. you know you did wrong right? Suzy
could only nod and start to cry as she blubbered that she would never
do it again. I know dear but I must do this to teach you a lesson. Dad
took her hand and guided her across his lap as he picked up the
hairbrush. Suzy felt a woosh of air and then SMACK!!!!! she had never
been punished by the brush before so the first one took her breath
away with how much it hurt. before she got much relief the next ones
continued to fall SMACK!!! SMACK!! SMACK!!! SMACK!!! the fire that
started on her backside with the first swat just seemed to build and
build and build. Suzy really started to cry as the brush continued to
rain down and her father lectured her, SMACK!!! you SMACK!!!! know
SMACK!!!! that SMACK!!! all SMACK!!! we SMACK!!! is SMACK!!! that
SMACK!!! you SMACK!!! trySMACK!!! at SMACK!!! School SMACK!!! and
SMACK!!! you SMACK!!! cheat? SMACK!!!!! Suzy beyond words now just
bawled and bawled.. SMACK!!! SMACK!!! SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!!! as her
bottom started to bruise.. finally it was over and her dad told her to
go straight to her room and that she would get no supper…. Suzy ran
cry naked from the waist down to the room and fell on the bed and
rubbed her bottom for all she was worth… she just layed there for
the longest time before her dad came in and told her it was time for
bed. he gave her a hug and a kiss and then told her to get some sleep.
just before he walked out the door and turned off the light he turned
around and said. I know your secret. I know it was your sister. I read
the book too when I was a kid. giving her a wink he turned off the
light and closed the door. at the sound of the door closing Suzy woke
up with a start.. wow that was a strange dream she said. I got to get
some rest there is a test tomorrow. rolling onto her back she drifted
off to sleep again…..