Spanking Sandra – a fragment

Angela examined Sandra’s bottom with a critical eye. The 20 strokes that she had given her crying girlfriend had resulted in a lovely blush; no single hand print stood out on Sandra’s naked bottom. Instead, the spanks blurred together into a uniform pink of near perfection.

“Up!” Angela said sharply, smacking her girlfriend’s bottom again. “Off to your corner, while I try to sort out the mess that you’ve made.”

Still sobbing, Sandra pushed herself off of Angela’s lap and bent to retrieve her skirt from the floor.

“Leave it,” Angela said, pointing Sandra to her corner. “You won’t need your skirt to think about how you’ve overspent your budget again.”

“But-”

Angela’s glare cut Sandra off in mid-sentence. “Now,” Angela snapped, as she picked up their shared checkbook from the sofa cushion. “I can’t believe what a mess you’ve made of this!”

Sandra snuffled back a sob and hung her head. Her long, blonde hair obscured her pretty, blue eyes. “I’m so sorry,” Sandra said, dragging a toe across the carpet. She sniffed again. “Really. I don’t know how it happened!”

Shaking her head, Angela pointed once again at the corner across the room. “Go,” she said. “Now.”

Sandra walked slowly to the corner, and stood facing the familiar walls for what seemed like the better part of an hour. She sniffled. She sobbed. And she wanted desperately to rub her sore bottom, but Sandra knew that it would only infuriate her girlfriend. Sandra wasn’t allowed to touch her bottom after a sound spanking until Angela gave her permission.

The problem was that Sandra had no mind for numbers and no control when it came to spending money. The skirt that lay rumpled on the floor was the reason the young blonde had been spanked and was now standing in the corner. Short and plaid, the skirt was perfect for showing off Sandra’s her fine legs. She couldn’t resist the purchase, and it seemed such a bargain at only $200.

Sandra sniffed again. The burn in her bottom was finally beginning to fade, and she hoped that Angela would forgive her soon. The corner was becoming all too familiar, and Sandra was worried that someone could pass by and look through the window to see her naked bottom.

Finally, Angela broke her silence. “Sandra,” she said lowly.

The young blonde turned at her name. She had a properly penitent look on her face, though Sandra’s lips were quirked in a smile.

“Yes,” she said, hopefully.

That’s when Sandra saw the hairbrush in Angela’s hand. Fresh tears spilled over her cheeks when she realized what was about to happen.

“Do you want to tell me about the blouse you bought at Macy’s last weekend?”