Friday, March 15, 2013

Groundhog Day at Jefferson Arms F/M

© Guyspencer 2013
Groundhog Day at Jefferson Arms

1970, Classroom 305 Jefferson Junior High:
Miss Newby had finally reached her fill with young Sam Walker. He had just disrupted the class for the third time! She couldn’t figure him out. The boy had a perfect record. All of the other teachers loved him. Yet he was a constant problem in her class! What she didn’t understand was that young Sam was simply stricken with her and was constantly vying for her attention.

It was Miss Newby’s first year as a teacher, so perhaps she was to be excused for missing the symptoms of male teenage infatuation. Unnoticed by her, Miss Newby also kept half the school’s male faculty in a condition of perpetual heat. Their balding heads always swivelled when they saw her click-clacking down the hallway in her needle high heels. They always admired the perfectly straight seams of her garter-tensioned stockings. Her high heels made her bottom jut out, straining the tight skirts that the young, single, teacher favored.

It happened to be the end of the last class period of the day. In frustration, she dismissed everybody but Sam. Stealing a trick from her own elementary school, she drew a small chalk circle on the board that was exactly nose-high for Sam. Then she made him stand with his nose in the circle.

She left him there for 15 minutes while she caught up on her grade book. By then, the school was very quiet. Likely only a few staff remained. She locked the classroom door.

Then she stood behind Sam and lectured him, not allowing him to turn around. Frustrated and unhappy with his monosyllabic responses, she decided that sterner measures were required. Reaching around his waist, she unbuttoned his pants, and then jerked them down to his knees. Accidently, his briefs followed. She decided to just leave them down!

As she carelessly raised her hands after completing that task, they contacted something solid. Only then did she realize that young Sam was sporting a rampant erection. She blushed bright red! She reconsidered for a moment, but having gone this far felt that she must continue. Not quite knowing how else to react to the situation, she simply ignored Sam’s tumescence.

So she dragged the suddenly very compliant Sam over to her desk chair, sat down, pulled him across her lap, and started furiously spanking his bare bottom. Sam had never even dared touch Miss Newby, the main object of his sexual fantasy life. Suddenly he found himself not only alone with her, but pants-down, in full contact with her, and enjoying her full attention. His bare and still-erect penis rubbed against her skirt as he squirmed in response to her sudden assault on his bare bottom. This spanking was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to the young man!


Next door in classroom 307, Senior Teacher Ted Osmund looked up in consternation at the sudden sounds of a spanking. It took only a moment for his ears to notice a crucial difference; this was a bare-bottom spanking! Teachers had spanking privileges at Jefferson, but were not allowed to remove clothing from any student. For that reason, most used the standard school paddle. Unless it was the Principal giving the spanking he was hearing, somebody was breaking an important rule.

Out in the hall, he quickly ascertained that the sounds came from Miss Newby’s room. Now he was especially concerned because he was her first-year mentor, making him somewhat responsible for whatever happened in her classroom. He tried the door and found it locked. By the time he used his master key to enter, the spanking was winding down.

He found the bare-bottom boy sprawled across Miss Newby’s shapely thighs. At this point, Mr. Osmund was desperate to keep this somewhat illegal spanking from escalating into a major incident. The first thing he noted was that the lady was a rather ineffective spanker. The boy’s bottom was pink, but not even close to being bruised. So there would be no visible damage for the parents to complain about. Sam hadn’t been making a lot of noise, further evidence that he wasn’t really hurt. His face was actually redder than his bottom and he seemed to be nearly out of breath. At first Ted thought that it was embarrassment that had so flustered the boy, but then he noticed the erect penis, which Sam ineffectively tried to hide.

Ted guessed, correctly, that Miss Newby had come very close to having a messily stained skirt. This spanking had stopped in the nick of time.

Carefully putting on a stern face, Ted ordered Sam to pull up his pants, and then asked Miss Newby what her problem had been with Sam. When told that Sam had disrupted the class multiple times, he scowled at the boy. "OK, you’ve been spanked, but you got off lightly just this once. I’m going to do you the favor of not telling the Principal this time, but if I hear of any more problems with you, you will be meeting him and his big paddle. Understand?"

"Y...Y...Yes Sir" Sam stammered.

"In that case, you will apologize to Miss Newby, and then get yourself out of here."

Sam did as he was told and then fled.

Ted was pretty sure that Sam had been cowed enough that he would never mention his bare-bottom spanking to anyone. So he felt that he had safely defused the incident. Now it was time to deal with Miss Newby! "What the hell do you think you are doing! You know that you aren’t allowed to remove any student’s clothing, and you certainly aren’t allowed to spank any student on the bare bottom! You know I must report this; right?"

Suddenly realizing the depth of her error, Miss Newby begged for Mr. Osmund to not report her. Together, they figured out another way for the young teacher to learn an indelible lesson.

Having agreed on a "lesson plan", a contrite Miss Newby rang Tom Osmund’s doorbell that evening. It was a classic win-win situation; Miss Newby got to keep her job, while Tom got to satisfy an old fantasy. As ordered, she appeared in slacks. After a short corner time, she found herself imitating Sam’s earlier pants-down adventure, except she endured a bare-bottom spanking that was considerably harder than the one she had given Sam.

That evening turned out to be the beginning of a beautiful relationship, but that’s a story for another day.

As Young Sam walked home, the sting and itch in his bottom rapidly evaporated, but that was his only regret about what had happened to him. He wanted that "just-spanked" feeling to last forever! Sam had a million thoughts bubbling and churning together in his head. Like flavors mixing in a stew, these thoughts all became forever blended together. First, he had finally found a way to win Miss Newby’s undivided attention. Then came the memory of that chalk dust, and then the shock of his sudden exposure. And then...did she really caress his penis? Finally there was the frenzy of that nearly orgasmic spanking! Never before had his mind connected spanking and sex, yet now the two subjects seemed seamless. What did this all mean? Where could it lead?

One thing that Sam was sure of was that this was terribly private. Of course, he wouldn’t dare tell his parents that he had been spanked at school, because his father would take him out in the garage for a session with his belt! But this was something far more than just a spanking. This was a life event! ...albeit a very private life event.

Sam went straight to his bedroom, locked the door, and dealt with his sexual feelings in the way that teen boys usually do; except that he did it repeatedly until soreness forced a stop. Each time he ran the story through his head, it got a little better. For example, now instead of merely brushing his penis by accident, Miss Newby stroked and caressed it until he nearly climaxed before gently leading him to her chair, and taking him across her bare thighs to spank his naked bottom.

His idealized, sexualized version of that spanking would feed, inform and guide his sexual fantasies for the rest of his life.

Naturally, Sam tried in subsequent weeks to goad Miss Newby into a repeat performance, but it was hopeless. Mr. Osmund had ordered Miss Newby to send Sam to the Principle whenever a verbal warning failed to immediately yield good behavior. After his second meeting with the Principal’s paddle, and the resulting belting from his father, Sam gave up on Miss Newby.

But he never gave up the memory of that one wonderful eye-opening spanking in room 305.


News Item: Jefferson Junior High to Close
December, 1982: Due to decreasing enrollment and budget limitations, Jefferson Junior High will close at the end of the school year. Jefferson’s students will be divided between the other two county junior high schools. Opened in 1922, Jefferson is the school system’s oldest building. The school board hopes to find another governmental use for the building to save the historic landmark.

News Item: Old Jefferson Junior High Building Listed in National Register Of Historic Places
July, 1984: Thanks to a massive effort by a coalition of Jefferson School alumni, the Closed Jefferson Junior High School building has been listed in the National Register Of Historic Places. According to Samuel Walker, a spokesperson from the group, this is the first concrete step towards preserving the historic and beloved building. The school board had funds in the 1985 budget to raze the building, but this new historic status will stall any plans for demolition. 

News Item: Old Jefferson Junior High Building Sold
April, 1986: A consortium of local real estate developers has purchased the historic Jefferson Junior High Building for an undisclosed sum. The exterior of the building will be renovated and restored to its 1922 appearance. The interior will be developed into luxury apartments. This promises to be an innovative way to preserve this landmark building and it’s heritage for future generations. In honor of the building’s heritage, this "new" apartment building will be named "Jefferson Arms".

There were delays, years of delays, while financing and an incredible amount of permitting and paperwork slithered slowly through various governmental agencies. Although the official historic status of the building had rescued it from demolition, now that same status served to greatly complicate and delay the project because every change in the building must be approved by some reluctant bureaucrat. By 1990, construction had finally advanced enough for the consortium to quietly open a business office in a temporary building on the site.

They were surprised when Samuel Walker appeared on the very first day and demanded to lease apartment 305.

"But we haven’t even numbered the apartments yet, and they won’t be ready for occupancy until next year" they explained carefully. Sam didn’t care. On the blueprint he pointed out the former Room 305.
"That’s where Apartment 305 must be, and I insist on renting it. And by the way, is the blackboard still in the room?"

Since Sam had been instrumental in saving the building, they humored him. He donned a construction helmet and toured room 305 for the first time in nearly 30 years. His heart soared when he saw that the room was empty, but virtually untouched. He walked to the old blackboard. He could still smell a bit of chalk dust on it, and he felt himself swell in a private place. It would take a year, but Sam would eventually live in the place that still held a very special place in his fantasy life. Naturally, the blackboard stayed. He also worked several pieces of real school furniture into the decor of his new home.


1991, Apartment 305, Jefferson Arms:
It was a very special day, their first evening in their new apartment. Today, history would finally repeat itself, only better! It had taken Sam 20 years to find the perfect woman, and now he had finally found the perfect love nest.

Sam sat in an old student desk while his beautiful wife berated him for "disrupting the class." Finally, she ordered him to the blackboard, where she drew a circle on the board and ordered him to stand with his nose inside the circle. Sam was already hard, but the chalk dust still had its usual aphrodisiacal effect on him. His heart rate reached a record high as the lady scolded him, and then reached from behind to undo his pants.
She pushed down Sam’s pants and underpants until they puddled at his feet. But then, instead of simply brushing his penis, she reached around and gently massaged him while still scolding. Just as he neared the point of no return, she abruptly turned him and led her "bad boy" to an old but sturdy armless chair. Her needle heels click-clacked as she walked. She sat. As if in a dream, Sam floated across her thighs. She guided his bare bottom into exactly the right position, and started work. The lady was a master at the art of the spanking! The ensuing tanning was easily vigorous enough to be "real", but not so severe as to kill his ardor. As she spanked his quickly reddening bottom, he squirmed himself deliciously against her tight silken skirt. Propelled by his kicks, his pants and briefs flew across the room.

For Sam, the effect was indescribable! He sobbed cleansing tears. His bottom stung as if it had been attacked by a thousand hornets. At the same time, his wife’s expert ministrations brought him near orgasm for a second time. Although her skirt separated them, he had never felt so close to the lady, nor happier that he had found her. She was a real find! For her, spanking "bad boys" wasn’t just a sexual accommodation, it was a lifelong passion. She found herself nearly as aroused as her husband by this reenactment of Sam’s boyhood fantasy.

As always, the lady knew exactly when to stop. She allowed her sobbing husband up. They immediately embraced, passionately kissed, and "made up." It was only a few steps to their new bedroom, where they celebrated their new apartment in the way that happy and sensual couples have forever privately celebrated. They "celebrated" enthusiastically, athletically and repeatedly.

At last Sam Walker felt truly fulfilled. He knew that history would continue to repeat itself at Jefferson Arms again and again, and that each repetition would be fresh and exciting for him and his wife. It was truly Groundhog Day in Classroom/Apartment 305.

© Guyspencer 2013

Thursday, March 07, 2013

A Sister’s Practice Spanking

© Guyspencer 2013
A Sister’s Practice Spanking; Part 1

Ed was in serious trouble.  Since there was no corporal punishment at Ed’s school, he had only received detention and a lecture from the Principal as punishment for his cruel prank.  But that didn’t stop the Principal from calling Ed’s mother.  And that, of course, ensured that Ed would get spanked after all.

On his way home, Ed had plenty of time to contemplate all this.  The prank, an opportunistic playground romp that featured a found water bucket and two drenched girls, had seemed brilliantly conceived at the time.   Now, after facing his Principal and having time to contemplate the fallout from his hasty action, it was feeling increasingly stupid.


At home, Ed faced his mother’s wrath, her lecture, and finally her judgement.

It could have gone better for Ed.  His mother might have decided to simply spank him rather than switch him.  Unfortunately for Ed, she had decided on the switch.  But things could still be worse, so he had to tread carefully!  His mother could always make him wait bare bottom in the corner until his father came home.  In that case, he could expect the belt!

So Ed complained only softly when his mother sent him out to the willow tree in the front yard clad only in his pajamas.  That tree was famous in the neighborhood because neighborhood parents knew that it grew the very best switches.  So it wasn’t unusual for some tearful child to knock on the door to ask permission to cut branches from the tree.  Usually they wanted to be left alone, but sometimes Ed or Mary (Ed’s older sister),  had to fetch the family’s pruning sheers to help the poor kid select and cut the instrument of their own soon-to-be correction. 

But today, it was Ed selecting switches for himself.  For the umteenth time, Ed wished that tree was in the back yard rather than the front.  Since his mother had made him don pajamas, everyone could see what he was doing, and could easily guess why he was doing it. Even worse, Mary had been sent out to supervise the selection. 

Perhaps unusually for teen siblings, Ed and Mary were close friends and rarely fought.  Still, Mary took this job seriously.  She didn’t tease her brother, but she did make sure that he selected good switches; switches that would make his bare bottom blaze!  Helpfully, Mary even climbed up into the tree to weigh down a branch so that her brother could reach some particularly promising specimens.

The family rules for switch selection were fairly specific.  “No part of the switch could be thinner than the miscreant’s little finger, and the switch must be long enough to reach from the tip of the fingers to the elbow.  The genius of that specification was that the switch would always be perfectly sized for the intended recipient.  Further, Ed knew to gather four switches.  His mother would select the best two and discard the others.

This activity attracted some of the neighbor kids.  Before the poor boy was done, he had several “helpers” standing around the tree giving suggestions.  Red-faced, Ed selected and cut his switches as quickly as possible.  After gaining his sister’s approval for his selections, he quickly retreated back into the house with Mary following.

There, Ed’s mother discarded the largest switch, and another that was a bit crooked.  She handed the other two switches back to Ed for further preparation.

Knowing that his punishment was inevitable, Ed opened the kitchen’s “junk” drawer, replaced the pruning sheers, and found a paring knife.  Then he sat at the kitchen table to strip the bark from his switches and to shave away any protrusions.  This left them thin, slick and whippy.  Different from the traditional English school cane, these would impart an intense sting but no deep flesh trauma, leaving only thin welts.    Unfortunately for Ed, “six of the best” wouldn’t do with the switch.  His mother would cover Ed’s bare buttocks and upper legs with those stingy little welts.

Mother picked up the switches and tested them.  They whistled through the air.  One switch would likely be sufficient for the job.  The other was simply a spare. 

Mother looked at her miscreant son purposely, “You know what to do.”

Ed did know what to do.  Right there in the kitchen, and with a nervous sigh, he stripped off his pajamas and underpants.

This might sound like a highly degrading and embarrassing procedure, but you need to understand Ed’s family.  Ed and Mary had been brought up to be comfortable with the sight of each other’s bodies.   Although they had separate bedrooms, they shared the upstairs bath and daily saw each other in undies, or even wearing much less.  Spankings, though relatively rare,  had always been a bare-bottom event in this family.  So it was the actual spanking that Ed dreaded, not undressing for it.

Before his punishment started, Ed had one choice to make, “Should we start right out with the switch or do you want your bottom prepared first?”

The answer was easy for Ed.  A warmup spanking hurts, but he had discovered the hard way that a switching on an unprepared bottom is infinitely worse! “I’ll take the warmup spanking please Mom.”

As always, she warned him, “It’s the same switching either way.”

“I know Mom, but I’ll take the spanking.”

Then both Ed and Mary got a surprise from their mother, and it was a particularly unpleasant surprise for Ed, “I’m glad you said that Ed.  Your sister needs to learn how.”

Mary looked truly startled, “Huh?” she said, quickly echoed by her brother’s shrill  “WHAT?”

In a tone that told both kids that they really had no choice in the matter, Mother explained.  “Mary will be a mother eventually, but first she will start babysitting.  She must never spank a child without a parent’s permission, but some parents will want her to know how.  This is a perfect chance for her to learn.  Mary will just do the warmup spanking.  The switching will be my job”

Relieved that she wouldn’t be required to switch her brother and realizing that any argument might make things worse for Ed, Mary wisely nodded her agreement; but to her brother, her eyes told a story of reluctance.

Ed opened his mouth to protest, but then thought better of it.  First, no such protest was liable to be helpful once his mother had made up her mind.  Second, it occurred to him that his sister might go easier on him than his mother would.  So Ed decided to meekly obey.

Following her usual pre-spanking routine, Mother sent Ed to the bathroom with instructions to “do whatever he can” and to return quickly.

When Ed returned to the kitchen, he found his sister sitting in a chair that had been moved away from the dining table.  Reluctantly, and with the first tears glistening in his eyes, Ed went to his sister.  “It’s OK” he whispered as he kissed her on the cheek.  Then he put himself across her lap and adjusted himself into position for his warmup spanking.

It’s odd how the mind works at times like this.  Mary’s first thought was that she was happy to be wearing long pants.  Otherwise, Ed’s male parts would now be dangling between her bare thighs.  Somehow the thin cloth of those pants provided an important psychological barrier.   

Ed had other thoughts.  First, he was hopeful that a spanking from his sister wouldn’t hurt as much as one from his mother.  Second, was an imperative that he not “lose his cool.”  When his mother punished either him or his sister, there was no shame in crying or begging for respite.  But this was his sister!  Especially since this was just to be a “warmup” spanking, he desperately hoped to take it quietly.  Later, when his mother whipped him with the switch, it would be OK for him to “let it out”, but he didn’t want his sister to break his reserve.

As you would expect under the circumstances, Mary started out tentatively.  She slapped the palm of her hand against her brother’s bare nates, but had little effect.   Ed’s hopes unreasonably soared.  But then he heard his mother’s voice coaching Mary and urging her on to greater efforts.  Ed knew what that would mean, but still he didn’t blame Mary.  He knew his mother was the puppeteer.  Besides, he had earned this punishment ‘fair and square”.

Obediently, Mary increased the force and speed of her spanks, and immediately felt her brother squirm in response.  This made her realize that this was something that she could really do.  Emboldened, she spanked a bit harder, ignoring the sting in her palm.  Ed groaned and kicked involuntarily as he struggled for control.

Mary had seen her brother spanked enough times to know what was supposed to happen.  His bottom was changing color nicely, but she was puzzled at his muted reaction.  Usually he was louder and his movements much more vigorous.  Again Mary increased her efforts.  Now his movements became more urgent, and he failed to choke back his sobs.

It was when mother coached Mary to spank the hitherto untouched back of Ed’s upper legs that he totally lost control.  His mild sobbing turned to outright bawling, which morphed to piteous begging, which devolved to frantic shrieking, and twisting.

Finally Mother deemed Ed’s bottom properly prepared for his ‘real’ punishment.  She told Mary it was OK to stop.  As poor Ed bawled across his sister’s lap, Mother complimented Mary on her work.  “See?  It isn’t that hard.  Just a little more practice and you’ll be ready to do it on your own.”

While allowing Mary to process that thought, she urged Ed to his feet.  The boy obviously wanted to dance and rub his livid bottom, but Mother thought it kinder to start his punishment while his nerve ends were still in overload.  Firmly but not harshly, she took the naked boy by the arm, propelled him to the dinette table, and bent him over it. 


Mother had kept a careful poker face throughout this entire incident.  When the Principal had explained the nature of Ed’s mischief to her, it had been all she could do to keep from laughing.  Even now, she could clearly see the humor in the situation.  She was secretly pleased that her son had the imagination and spirit to engage in the occasional prank.  Unfortunately, she couldn’t ignore her son’s behavior.

The results of Ed’s prank had been two wet gym outfits, two drenched hairdos, two outraged teen girls, and a disrupted PE class.  This was hardly the end of the world!  Still, she realized the need to keep order in school, and saw it as her parental duty to support the school’s staff by properly disciplining her son for his unacceptable behavior.  So she had met her son with a serious face, lectured him on the need to not disrupt school activities, and was about to stripe his bottom and legs with that wicked switch. 
Still, she didn’t plan to deliver a truly severe switching.  It would be just enough to make the boy truly sorry, but also enough so that everybody in tomorrow’s gym class could see that Ed had truly been punished.   So she used her left hand to firmly hold Ed down on the table while her right hand used a switch to paint a cris-cross pattern of welts across her boy’s bottom while he bucked and shrieked.  Sooner than normal, she switched her attention to the boy’s upper legs, the part that would show under his gym shorts.  Ed sobbed piteously as his mother put several welts right where the girls in tomorrow’s gym class wouldn’t be able to miss them. 

Then she stopped.

She had done the minimum possible.  Tomorrow it would be clear to anyone in his gym class that he had truly been punished for his prank.  Mother’s duty was done.  All she had to do now was to comfort her son and to contact the gym teacher to ensure that Ed didn’t try to beg off from dressing for tomorrow’s gym class.


Mary had watched her brother’s switching with understandable interest.  She realized that her bother had earned his punishment “fair and square” but felt slightly guilty for her part in it.  She didn’t feel guilty for long though.  She had thought up a way for her brother to “get even” with her, at least theoretically.

It was more that a week before Mary drummed up enough nerve to approach her mother.  She caught her mother alone in the kitchen one afternoon, steeled herself and asked, “Can we talk mommy?”

Those words are guaranteed to catch any mother’s attention.  She quickly wiped her hands and sat down, half expecting to hear bad news.

Mary stammered and blushed.  She had rehearsed this in her head, but now it felt silly and trite to actually say the words.  “Mommy, at what age will you and daddy stop spanking us?” 

She thought before she answered.  She really didn’t have a clue where this conversation was headed. “Well I could give you a long answer, but the short answer is we will spank you two as long as you need to be spanked.  There is no certain age.”

That was the answer that Mary expected, “So it’s reasonable to expect that I haven’t had my last spanking yet?”

Mother was a bit taken aback, but the answer was obvious, “Naturally that’s up to you.  As long as you obey your father and I, there is no reason for you to ever be spanked again.  But still, since you asked, at your age it’s very likely that your bottom hasn’t seen it’s last spanking.”

“That’s what I thought you’d say,” Mary mused.  Then her face reddened as she prepared to spit out what was really on her mind,”I feel a little guilty about having ‘practiced’ on Ed’s bottom.  I’m planning to try to never get spanked again, but if it should happen, errr...”

Finally she dropped her bombshell, “I think it’s only fair that Ed gets the same deal you gave me.  He’ll be a father someday, and fathers need to know how to spank.”  Mary’s stomach turned flips as she waited for the answer.

“Be careful what you wish for young lady.” she replied.  “Your brother is no weakling.  Are you sure that’s what you want?”

Marry nodded her agreement.

With a bit of relief in her voice that the conversation hadn’t led to something more serious, mother said decisively, “Then that’s how it’ll be.  Let’s hope it doesn’t happen anytime soon though.  I’ll leave it up to you to decide if you wish to tell him in advance.”

Mary managed a tight smile.  Unbidden, that old saying popped into her head. “What’s good for the goose is good for the gander.”
To part 2

© Guyspencer 2013

The Date, Part 4

© Guyspencer 2013
                                                              The Date: Part 4

It was a heady time for the young couple.  A few weeks ago, Jim had spanked Sara for the second time.  That second spanking had been with a hairbrush.  Both spankings had produced real tears, and mutual arousal, although the couple still pledged to avoid intercourse.  That second spanking, done with a hairbrush, had also left Sara with some mild marks on her bottom, but they were long since faded.  Because of Jim’s previous strapping at the hands of his father, punishment for his drinking and (almost) driving on their only “car” date, Sara had insisted that they couldn’t be “even” until she had also been strapped.  Since convincing a parent to do the job seemed unlikely, that responsibility would fall to Jim.   

To his credit, Jim had mixed emotions.  Spanking Sara had afforded him his very first glance at, and the first touches of, her bare bottom and other feminine charms.  Having a beautiful and scantily clad young lady squirming on his lap was one of the most exciting events of Jim’s life.  But there was much more to it than that!  Spanking had long been a subject of very special interest to Jim.  Now he was discovering that the same was true for Sara.

On the other hand, Jim really didn’t want to hurt Sara, and he surely didn’t want to do anything to drive her away.  By now, he was deeply in love with this beautiful young lady and knew that she felt the same.  So Jim wanted to proceed carefully.  Balanced against this was Sara’s insistence that she receive a real strapping. 

Unfortunately they had real problems finding privacy, except for those two dangerous evenings when Jim had sneaked over to Sara’s house.  Sara’s parents tolerated, even welcomed, Jim in their home.  However, for several weeks following that disastrous date they wouldn’t allow him to date their daughter.  The best they could do was to sit together on Sara’s front porch, where at least they could talk in relative privacy.  And talk they did!  Forever after, their relationship was blessed with enviable communication.

Finally, they were allowed very limited dating.  Driving was still forbidden, so Jim and Sara would ride their bicycles to the movie, and then share a pizza before riding home together.

In the theater, they would seek the darkest corner, and spent little time actually watching the movie.  As young couples do, they learned the sweet terrain of each other’s bodies through feel.  Soon, they had progressed to moderate petting.   This was a fairly safe activity because the theater was always too crowded for anything “serious” to happen.


Perhaps it was best that it took several weeks before an opportunity arose for them to find privacy for Sara’s strapping.  That gave the young couple the opportunity to learn a bit about controlling their hormone-driven urges.  They had agreed that they would eventually have no boundaries except actual intercourse.  To this end, they had solemnly agreed on a simple rule: Only one of them could be exposed at a time.  If his penis was to be allowed out of it’s cage, then she must be firmly dressed.  If he stayed dressed and zipped, then it might be possible for him to intimately explore the exciting world under her panties.  It wasn’t a perfect plan, it wouldn’t be easy to live by, but it was better than no plan at all!  

Finally the perfect opportunity came.  Sara’s parents had been given tickets to a performance at a Fine Arts Center that was nearly a two hour drive away.  Her parents wouldn’t be home until well after midnight!  Since there were only two tickets, Sara didn’t even need to invent an excuse to stay home.

It was a dark, moonless night.  They purposely waited until after Jim’s normal bedtime so that his father wouldn’t notice his absence.  By then it was pitch dark, a perfect time for sneaking out of one’s home and skulking around the neighborhood without fear of prying eyes.   Jim found Sara’s house totally dark except for one dim light in her upstairs bedroom window.  That single light was the “all clear” signal that they had agreed on.  Confidently, Jim knocked on the back door.

The door quickly opened, and Jim found himself pulled into the dark kitchen and ardently embraced.  His tingly fingers quickly ascertained what his eyes couldn’t; Sara was naked!  Jim’s physical response was sudden and painful.  She giggled as he groaned and reached down to rearrange himself inside his pants.  Then he resumed the embrace.  With their lips locked together, he let his hands roam freely and ardently until they finally settled on cupping each of her nether cheeks.  The strapping temporarily forgotten, he pulled their groins tightly together. 

The unmistakable feeling of Jim’s erection so close to her “target area” coupled with Jim’s increasingly heavy breathing had a sobering effect on Sara.  Gently, she eased him away, and spoke in a firm voice that sounded nothing like a girl who was about to humbly submit her bare bottom for correction.  “Can you safely do this Jim?  We need to be sure that we are both under control before we go up to my room.  Getting pregnant would ruin everything!  If not, I have a ‘plan B’ that still would be fun, but it wouldn’t get my strapping over with.”    

To his credit, Jim didn’t immediately demand that they go up to Sara’s room.  He, of course, was fully cognizant of his own arousal, but he had learned just enough from their theater fumbling to detect the physical manifestations of Sara’s arousal.  A warm dampness, coupled with her heavy breathing, told him they were in dangerous territory.  It was hard, but the young man did the responsible thing; he suggested that they “wait until we calm down a bit”.

Feeling his way around the dark kitchen, Jim found two dinette chairs and pulled them into the middle of the kitchen.  There they sat, facing each other, knee to knee.  Their hands wandered a bit, but Jim desperately tried to avoid pawing and deep kissing.  Instead, he led her into conversation, as if the two were fully dressed sitting openly on Sara’s porch.  They finally succeeded in defusing the situation. 

Twenty minutes later, the situation had de-escalated enough that Jim asked, “Are you ready to get your punishment over with young lady?”  In the profoundly dark kitchen he sensed, rather than saw, her solemn nod.

He fumbled at his side to work a large item from his hip pocket.  Sara felt it pressed into her hand.  It was a tightly rolled up belt. “Then carry this upstairs young lady.  First I’ll warm your bottom up for you, and then you will hand that back to be and ask to be whipped with it.  Understand?”

“Yes sir” she replied contritely.

They rearranged the chairs to hide the evidence of their meeting.  Then Sara handed Jim a flashlight.  “Light my way up the stairs, I don’t want to turn on any lights down here.”

She led him to the staircase and then preceded Jim up the stairs with him shining the light upwards.  In the process of lighting Sara’s way, Jim naturally lighted up Sara.  He gasped at this first view of her nakedness.  Jim soon forgot about lighting Sara’s way!      

The upward-shining flashlight accentuated the curves of her pale buttocks.  The tiny hairs that lined both sides of her nether cleft lit up like miniature candles.  One clever beam of light slipped up through her cleft, illuminated the length of her spine, and then splashed into her yellow tresses.  The effect was pure art!  Spanking momentarily forgotten, Jim stood open-mouthed at the erotic beauty of the sight.

Momentarily irritated because Jim wasn’t lighting up the stairs for her, Sara stopped and turned, providing young Jim with a whole new set of visual distractions. 

Finally they made it to the top of the stairs, and into the forbidden and dimly lit territory of Sara’s bedroom.

Jim looked around the semi-familiar room.  He noticed immediately that Sara had cleaned off her small desk as he had previously instructed her.  He gave Sara a quick peck on the cheek, and then lifted the desk and moved it to the center of the room.  They had previously agreed that she would bend over that to receive her thrashing.  She placed the belt on the desk.

Then he took her hand and led her to the bed.  He sat, positioned her in front of him, and started to deliver the lecture that he had mentally prepared.  To his surprise, Sara gently put her fingers over his lips to stop him. 

With tears in her eyes, she spoke.  Jim was at first irritated that she had taken control, but soon lost his anger, forgot his prepared lecture, and even momentarily forget that his beautiful girlfriend was standing before him naked.  In rapt silence, he listened as she apologized to him for everything, told him that she had been at least 50% responsible for everything, and was terribly sorry that Jim had endured so much punishment for something that she could so easily have prevented. 

“I’m sorry Jim, I’m really sorry” she sobbed.  “Will you please make us even so we can start over?  Please don’t hold back.  Warm up my bottom and then strap it.  Strap me just as hard as you got strapped, or this will never go away.”
With a lump in his throat, Jim simply croaked “OK” and then patted his lap.

Soon Jim felt the now-familiar and not entirely unwelcome pain of Sara’s weight pushing down on his erection, which was rigidly pushing back at her.

He sat at a bit of an angle so that her torso rested on the bed, but her toes dug into the carpet.  She reached for a pillow and buried her face into it to muffle her cries.  He adjusted her position, and then firmly wrapped his left arm around her waist.  Without further drama, he delivered the first few spanks.  They were scorchers, intended to take her breath away and to firmly establish that he was now totally in charge of this correction.

Sara’s pear-shaped buttocks bounced, rippled, and colored from the force of the spanks.  Although modesty was hardly one of Sara’s goals tonight, her legs were soon thrashing and offering her boyfriend devastatingly tempting glimpses of her most intimate feminine charms.  As her bottom took on a deeper shade of red, her voice blossomed into a full shriek, thankfully muffled by that pillow to avoid alerting her nosy neighbors.

They had talked about this, and they had agreed that Sara would wear slacks for a day or two after this spanking to hide her legs until all redness disappeared, but that Jim would confine any bruising to the area concealed by a full pair of panties.  That meant that this spanking could include Sara’s “sit spots” and thighs, but her strapping would involve a much smaller area.

Therefore Jim bravely moved his target area down to Sara’s thighs, which increased her already-shrill response to her spanking.  After he had turned her “sit spots” and the backs of her thighs a brilliant red, Jim briefly considered ordering her to open her legs so that he could pepper her tender inner thighs, but decided against it (this time).  Instead, he returned to her buttocks to give each of them a dozen parting spanks.  In unhappy surprise at this new assault, her hand shot back, but Jim neatly intercepted it and held it as he applied the finishing spanks. 

Still over Jim’s lap, Sara bawled into the pillow as she gradually regained her senses.  She definitely felt like a well-spanked girl.  She knew that she could likely beg off from her strapping, but she really didn’t want to put Jim into that “Catch 22" position.  Well aware that the belt and the desk awaited, Sara painfully pushed herself up from Jim’s lap and gave him a wet kiss.  He started to pull her into a cuddle, but she resisted.  Instead she whispered, “Let’s get this done before one of us loses nerve.”

On wobbly feet, she stood and went to the waiting desk.  She picked up the belt and offered it to Jim, who soberly accepted it.

He positioned her carefully.  He positioned one pillow under her hips to raise her bottom and to pad the edge of the desk.  She buried her face in another pillow to muffle her cries, and her hands had a death grip on the far edge of the desk. 

Over previous days, Jim had practiced his aim and perfected his swing.  But the accuracy he had gained, combined with his fear of striking outside her “panty line”  was about serve to Sara’s detriment.  After due thought, Jim had settled on the traditional “one swat
 per year”.  So Sara would receive 16 serious blows from Jim’s belt.  The problem, not fully appreciated by either of them, was that all those strokes would land near the center of poor Sara’s tush.

Once he had Sara perfectly positioned, Jim stepped back slightly, raised the belt high, and slashed it into her delectable mounds.  A white streak instantly appeared across her pink cheeks, which quickly morphed into bright red.  Sara shrieked and tried to raise herself from the desk, but Jim was ready for that move.  He used his left hand between her shoulder blades to firmly urge her back into place, and then quickly applied the second stroke.

Fourteen more strokes followed.  Sara took them as bravely as possible, but that isn’t saying much.  At least she kept her face in the pillow, or Jim might have had to stop to avoid the neighbors hearing her shrieks.  Sara’s bottom was livid and bruised.  She would need to be extremely careful for the next three weeks to be sure that nobody noticed.   Fortunately, she didn’t have a physical education class that semester, so she wouldn’t have occasion to shower in school. 

Feeling like a bully, Jim helped his sobbing girlfriend to her bed.  She laid face down, and he held her as she cried out her pain.  Although Sara had promised differently, Jim was terribly afraid that she would never speak to him again.  Finally she calmed down enough to return his kisses and snuggle up against him.  This gave Jim hope that perhaps all would be well, but now he was again dealing with an acute tightness in his groin. 

At last she spoke,” Oh wow!  You really did a job on my bottom!  It’s hard for me to say right now, but thanks.  Now we’re finally even, and I promise I’ll try to keep us out of trouble from now on.”  (The fact that she was saying this as she was naked in her bedroom in the company of her boyfriend seemed temporarily forgotten.)

“Just remember though,” she continued, “as long as my pants are off, your pants stay on and your zipper stays up.  Promise?”

“Yes, I promise,” he said breathlessly as his hands wandered freely.

“The lotion is on the little stand in the bathroom.  Will you get it please?”

Tom was thankful for the temporary distraction created by her request.  He easily found the bottle and brought it to her bed.  She raised her bottom and sighed at he gingerly applied the soothing balm to her ravaged bottom.  At some point her legs opened, and Jim gladly accepted the unspoken invitation.  His hand slid between her inner thighs.  From their theater groping sessions, he knew the import of the slickness he now found in her most private place.  The sting in her bottom temporarily forgotten, Sara groaned and wantonly pushed herself against Jim’s probing fingers.   
He was clumsy at the job, and Sara had to remind him twice to be gentle, but finally Jim brought Sara to her very first non-solo orgasm.  It was wonderful, it was a bit scary, but it was an experience she would never forget.

They kissed and fondled on the bed.  For the first time ever, Jim had the opportunity to explore every inch of his girlfriend’s body.  For him, it was simultaneous heaven and torment.  He delighted in the sight and feel of his girlfriend’s bareness, but was scarcely in control of his own raging hormones. 

Sara found a solution to Jim’s dilemma.  She pointed to a tiny pile of clothes.  “Jim, will you please find me a pair of panties and my pajama bottoms?”

Puzzled, and a bit disappointed he asked, “W...why?”

She caressed the lump in his pants, “Remember our rule?  If you put my pants on, we get to take your’s off.  And then we can...”

 Jim instantly agreed, and the thing was quickly done.  Sara winced as her panties came up over her raw bottom, but the loose pajama bottoms weren’t a problem.  She remained bare from the waist up.  Later, Jim wouldn’t remember if he tore his own clothes off or if Sara helped, but soon he was naked and enjoying Sara’s full attention.  She kissed, fondled and nuzzled him, but quickly zeroed in on the focus of his desire.  In their earlier petting sessions, Sara hadn’t yet made Jim “go off”, but she had learned enough from other girls gossip that she knew how to proceed.  She slathered lotion on his rigid member, wrapped her fist around it, and soon had Jim panting and kicking his way to an orgasm.  He ejaculated quickly.  This being her first time, Sara was quietly appalled at the mess.  

Their passions temporarily slaked, they finally thought to check the time.  It was 11:30, and Sara’s parents were due soon.  They cleaned up the bedroom and moved the desk back to its proper place.  Reluctantly, Jim dressed, but Sara elected to remain topless.

They walked downstairs and embraced in the dark near the kitchen door.  Here, they were somewhat safe because they could easily disappear in opposite directions if they saw headlights turning into the drive.

Jim pulled the back of Sara’s PJ’s and panties down and used the flashlight to take one last glimpse of her bottom.  He gulped at the damage.  “I’m, I’m sorry” he started, “I know that’s really going to hurt for the next few days.”

She stopped him, “You did exactly what I wanted you to do, so don’t apologize.  Are we even now?”

“We were even before.” Jim insisted.

“It didn’t feel like that to me.” Sara replied. “But it does now.”

Then, with her heart pumping in double time she asked, “So now that we’re even, can we start that deal we discussed the other day?”

Now it was Jim’s heart rate that accelerated.  “You mean...?”

“Yes, I mean that deal where we make rules to keep us both on the ‘straight and narrow’.  If I break the rules, you spank me.  If you break the rules, I spank you.”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Jim breathed, “Do you really think you’re strong enough? “

“I’m just as strong as my mother, and she did a pretty good job on your bottom that night.”

It was dark, so Sara didn’t get to enjoy the deep blush on Jim’s face.

Jim paused before answering.  He didn’t want to seem too eager.  “OK.  I guess that’s only fair.  We’ll discuss the rules tomorrow.”

After a lingering embrace and one last breathless kiss, Jim reluctantly slipped out the back door.  Sara locked the door behind him and returned to her bedroom.

They both had much to think about, and lots of talking to do.

© Guyspencer 2013