Tag Archives: f/f

Spanking Meg

She slapped the girl hard across both ass cheeks and Meg squealed. It wasn’t a cry of pain or outrage, but something more something deeper and primal. Alice knew that even though Meg seemed terrified, she was enjoying her helpless situation. Alice spanked her bottom hard again, and two red hand prints slowly criss-crossed Meg’s perfect, white behind.


Spanking Meg

Tell me Meg,” Alice said, licking her lips. “When was the last time that you were spanked?”

Meg shut her eyes, and a fine tremor shook her frame. “Please, Mistress Alice,” she moaned. “Please don’t spank me again!” But even though Meg seemed to be begging to be released, Alice noted that Meg didn’t struggle to get away; she actually clawed deeper into Alice’s lap as thought to become a part of her.

Alice spanked Meg’s bare ass hard again. Smack! Smack! Smack! Then after those three beats Alice spanked Meg again a little harder.

Ooh,” Meg growled kicking her legs. “Please, Mistress Alice!”

You haven’t answered my question,” Alice said again, spanking the girl’s cheeks slowly and firmly. They blush so beautifully, Alice thought.

Meg didn’t responded, but arched her butt into the spankings.

You are going to tell me,” Alice said, gritting her teeth. “I will make you say the words.”

Bitch!” Meg squeaked, shaking her head.

As a matter of fact I am,” Alice said, smiling wickedly. “But you would likely know me better as the Evil Queen.” Smack! Smack! Smack! Alice punctuated the statement with three rapid swats. Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! After only a moment’s pause, Alice delivered five more rapid-fire spankings her palm to Meg’s burning ass cheeks.

Meg burst into tears, but still she clawed at Alice’s lap as though she was trying to be one with the woman. “Please, Mistress Alice! Please! Please!”

Alice’s wicked smile widened, and she whacked the poor girl’s bare ass. Smack! Smack! Smack!

Spanking relationships – keeping them interesting


Keep Spanking interesting

Keeping things interesting in a spanking relationship can be a challenge, both in real life and in spanking stories. I mean, how many times can I write SMACK and still keep a reader’s interest? Likewise, how many times can I swat my girlfriend Sophia’s behind before it descends into a wallow of punishment that’s nothing more than pain?

Spanking stories, as well as relationships, need variety. I pay attention to my partner and to my readers. Certainly, I can vary the instruments that I use to deliver a spanking. That keeps both readers and Sopia interested. My favorite way to spank my girlfriend is my bare hand to Sophia’s bare butt. I think I’ve said that often enough. I love the feel of her skin under my hand. She has a nice butt – round and full, a true Hispanic girl, with cheeks that demand to be touched. Yet, we experiment with different spanking implements and toys just to add a little spice to our relationship: paddles, a wooden ladle, a slipper. We’ve tried a belt – a little too much sting until we’re whipped into the proper passion.

And we have our toys. The insertables include butt plugs, vibrators, anal beads, a butterfly, love eggs. A little bit of everything. Clothing varies. We play some games. Both of us have our school uniforms, and Sophia’s still fits. The naughty Catholic school girl is a favorite game, and I have a nun’s habit. One day, I hope to get a latex habit, but that’s just not in the budget at this point. But I do have a catsuit!

So that’s spanking instruments, toys and clothing. A bit or role playing. But even that would get boring, if all I did was SMACK SMACK SMACK Sophia’s behind. There’s more to our spanking relationship than that, and “paying attention,” to my partner, as well as my readers, is what keeps things interesting.

I rarely deliver more than one SWAT at a time to Sophia’s cute butt. Ocassionally I’ll slap in a quick group of three, but that’s not the norm.

Most spankings start with a tease. Sometimes Sophia waits in the corner, till I’m ready to spank her butt. If she’s in the corner, Sophia is naked, with her hands on her head, while I watch for any forbidden moves. Sometimes Sophia is playful, and she’ll try to sneak a finger down to masturbate while she’s waiting for a spanking. Other times, she waits quietly, trembling in the corner, until I’m ready to begin.

When it’s time, I take Sophia over my knee and gently stroke her full, round bottom in advance of the first impact. I play with her skin – run my fingers up and down the cleft in her behind. Only when she’s completely relaxed and distracted do I let loose with that first WHACK.

But the second impact doesnt come right away. Once I’ve landed that first strike, I let my fingertips trace the red hand print I’ve spanked into her butt. I listen to her breath and pay attention to whether she’s rigid and stiff in my arms, or relaxed, like she should be. Sophia is an experienced sub, and I’ve Topped in our relationship for a long time. We know our roles, and yet there are still surprises – so long as I pay attention.

The second WHACK is the one that gets Sophia’s attention, and at that point, she grinds her pubic bone into my lap, scrubbing her pussy against my skirt. We haven’t settled into a rhythm at this point. We’re still exploring the level of pain that she wants, and that I care to deliver.

Between the impacts, my fingers are not idle. I use my nails to lightly scratch her thighs, her butt cheeks and the opening to her pussy. I tug on her pubic hairs; Sophia gets impatient whenever I do that, and she raises her ass for the next SWAT. I can tell that she’s ready to get on with the game.

The third and forth WHACKS will be quick, one to each cheek, spanking in a sweet glow. By this time, I know that Sophia is wet. I slip my fingers down the crack of her butt

Jennifer Spanks Lacy – a fragment

“Your panties.” The command was abrupt. Yet those two words carried the weight of everything that had gone before. Our argument. My tears. By now, I was nearly naked, except for my bra, panties and knee-length stockings. My throat was dry. My hands shook. Bending, I slipped my white cotton panties to my ankles. I kicked them free, as butterflies swarmed my insides.

“I’ve always loved you,” Jennifer whispered. “But sometimes, you try my patience.” I dropped my head and nodded. My bottom lip trembled. I couldn’t meet Jennifer’s eyes.

“All right, Lacy.” She smoothed her skirt and patted her knee. “I want you to lay across my lap.”

I bent to remove my stockings.

“Leave them,” Jennifer said.

Still wearing my bra and stockings somehow made me feel more vulnerable – as if my bottom cheeks were about to be the sole focus of Jennifer’s attention. A bright flush raced through my body. My gaze flickered up to Jennifer’s chin, and I saw the firm set of her lips. I wanted to remove my bra. Take off my stockings. But that quick glance confirmed my fears. I would be spanked while partially dressed. And I found that more humiliating than total nudity.

Yet there was nothing else for me to do but shuffle forward.

Jennifer held out her hand to help me kneel at her feet. I caught her fingers in mine and was momentarily taken by the coolness of her flesh. As I held Jennifer’s hand, I lowered myself to the floor and studied her smooth, strong legs. As I did so, a tear rolled down my cheek and splashed on the toe of her shoe.

“Are you going to lay across my lap, or do you need help?”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. It was a rhetorical question. Jennifer expected me to find my own way. Slowly, I inched forward and then stood to lay across her lap. I held onto the edge of the couch with my left hand. As I settled myself, Jennifer slipped an arm round my waist and pulled me into her so that my pubic bone rested on her right knee. On contact with her knee, I reflexively jerked my ass upward; my hand slipped off the couch and onto the floor. My long hair was a puddle around my head.

I lifted my hand from the hardwood planks and settled into Jennifer’s lap. My bottom was vulnerable, and my tears started afresh.

“Just so you know,” Jennifer said as she patted my upturned bottom, “I don’t enjoy this.” With those words came the first of many bare-handed smacks, hard and full, right on the curve of my bottom cheeks.

Marie Earns a Switching – a fragment

Marie took a deep breath. “Please, Gloria,” she said. “I didn’t mean it. “Last night was a mistake.”

“I’m disappointed in you, Marie.” Gloria silently shook her head. “I thought what we have together means more to than a quick, one night stand with some bimbo.”

“It does, Gloria!” Marie pleaded.

Gloria pursed her lips. This was the second time in as many weeks that Marie had stepped out of their relationship for a quick and meaningless fling. If Gloria didn’t punish her girlfriend, it would happen again. Wistfully, she gazed out the kitchen window at the huge willow tree in the backyard. Then Gloria nodded once to herself as if making up her mind.

“All right, Marie,” she said. “You want this to work? Then go outside and cut a switch off that willow tree.” Marie looked up in surprise. “I’m going to give you a spanking.”

Marie’s eyes widened with fear. “Gloria, please!” she begged her girlfriend. “Please don’t switch me! I promise I’ll never cheat again.”

Marie was still pleading even as Gloria pulled a butcher knife from the knife block on the counter.

“I’m not going to say it again.” Expertly, Gloria flipped the knife around so that she held it by the blade, then handed it to Marie.

Tearfully, Marie accepted the knife. She opened her mouth to beg again, but saw Gloria’s rigid stance. There would be no arguing her girlfriend out of this. Marie hung her head and shuffled out of the kitchen. She paused long enough at the door to look back at her girlfriend; Gloria had her arms folded across her chest, a stern look on her face. A single tear fell on Marie’s cheek as she pushed the door open and walked like a doomed girl to the tree outside.

Marie knew what was expected of her. She cut and trimmed a switch about four feet long. It was an inch thick at the base and tapered to a thin whip of a switch. Keeping her eyes firmly on the switch in her hands, Marie walked as slowly as she could: across the lawn, up the back porch stairs, and finally to the back door. The teary-eyed girl shook as she pushed the door open and handed the switch to a still-fuming Gloria. It was then that Marie noticed that a straight-backed chair had been pushed into the middle of the kitchen floor.

Gloria examined the switch. “Yes,” she said, swishing it through the air several times. “That’s perfect.” Marie cringed at the evil hiss of the switch as it cut the air. “All right, Marie. Take off your pants, and bend over the back of the chair.”

“Please, Gloria,” Marie pleaded. “Don’t do this.” But Gloria’s silence spoke volumes; There would be no reprieve. Tearfully, Marie unzipped her jeans and pushed them down to her ankles, baring her milky-white thighs.

“Your underwear,” Gloria said. She pointed the switch at Marie’s silky undergarments. “Pull them down.”

By now, tears streaked Marie’s red face, but she obediently turned her back and pulled down her panties, exposing her pale, well-shaped buttocks. With the silky panties at mid-thigh, she shuffled to the chair and bent over its ladder-back.

“Grip the seat tightly,” Gloria said.

Marie, her bare bottom thrust high in the air, whimpered.

Gloria raised the switch high above her head. “Don’t let go of that seat, Marie,” she said lowly, and then swung with all her strength.


Would You Cane Zoe? – a fragment

“Zoe!” Gloria shook her head. “You can’t mean this.” Gloria’s voice was low, and she was still shaking with anger. Zoe had betrayed her – gone to a bar with another woman while Gloria was away at a conference. Guilt got the better of Zoe, and she confessed.

Now she wanted to make it right.

“Please,” Zoe said. She removed a cane from a long, silk bag. It was made of rattan, easily three feet long and about a quarter of an inch thick. One end was bound in leather for an easy grip, and the cane itself was smooth and free of knuckles.

“Zoe, this is crazy. I can’t whip you.” Some of Gloria’s anger bled away as she stared at the cane in her girlfriend’s hand.

“You have to do this, Gloria,” Zoe said, holding the cane at arm’s length. “I love you. I really do. I can’t lose you. Not over a stupid mistake.” Tears glittered in Zoe’s bright blue eyes. It is the only way that you’ll ever really forgive me.”

“Do you you hear yourself?” Despite her confusion and incredulity, Gloria took the cane from her girlfriend. “You’re asking me to beat you!”

“I know forgiveness is a lot to ask.” Zoe’s lower lip trembled. “I betrayed you, and I deserve to be punished. I just don’t want you to leave me.”

“But a whipping?”

“I’m doing this for us,” Zoe said. “Sometimes I do stupid things, and I need correction.” Zoe dropped her head again and put her chin to her chest. Dark hair obscured her face, and her voice was choked with sobs. She fiddled with her fingers, twisting them together. “We have a real relationship,” Zoe muttered. “I just don’t want to lose that.”

Gloria considered the cane. It was long, thin and whippy – easily flexed and solid in her grip. She thought carefully about what Zoe said – that their relationship mattered. Gloria had never even paddled a girl before, and she’d certainly never caned a young woman’s ass. But Gloria also knew that Zoe was right; Gloria would have a hard time forgiving her girlfriend’s indiscretion. Betrayal hurt, and if they didn’t find a way to deal with Zoe’s one-night stand, it would be a wedge that forced them apart.

Gloria swung the cane experimentally, and it cut the air with a fine swish.

“I can take the pain,” Zoe whispered, her voice barely audible. She turned and raised her skirt baring her bottom for Gloria. “But I can’t take losing you.”

Zoe bent over and waited.