A Spanking for You

A Story of Anxiety and Humiliation

You have been warned on several occasions and now you lower your head in shame as you are instructed to report to the administrator's office. At first, you refuse to accept your fate and put on your best apologetic face, but you soon surrender hoping that your charm will save your ass from a beating.

The passageway is long and vacant and you labor each step forward. Your mind races searching for excuses, but nothing but fear comes to mind. You open the door and walk in. The office is empty so you take a seat and wait. It is the anxiety of waiting that is the hardest. You bite your nails nervously listening, watching, waiting, and then you hear his footsteps. The are fast and heavy and depict anger and anticipation.

Then as his shape looms in the doorway you look towards the floor ashamed to make eye contact. "So you have been sent to me for punishment?" he asks in a despicable tone of voice. "Yes Sir," you answer. Raising your head, you try to smile as you stumble for words. "But Sir . . . ."

"No. There is no buts now. It is too late for apologies. You were given opportunities, but you failed. Do you know what happens when you fail?"

You consider the question carefully. You know the answer, but your mind is still hoping for leniency. You pout and beg with your eyes, but it is to know avail. "You are to be spanked. You understand that don't you?" Your face flushes with blood and your breath quickens. A lump in your throat is keeping you from answering. "Answer me, young lady!" His voice booms through your ears and you jolt. "Yes Sir."

He stands and walks over to where you are sitting. His hand grabs your lowered chin and jerks it up. You look into the eyes of your disciplinarian still pleading with remorseful eyes looking for mercy and leniency but only heartlessness reflects back from his cold scowling eyes. "You will learn a lesson here today. I am going to spank your bare bottom until you have learned not to break rules in this establishment. Stand up!" You stand and watch as he moves around the room closing mini blinds that darken the room. Your last bit of hope is fading like the sunlight from the windows. "Come here," he says as he pulls out a chair. He grabs your arm and pulls you over his lap. You shutter inside knowing that all hope is lost and a tear is welling up in your eye. You are embarrassed when he lifts your skirt. You look back over your shoulder as he tightens your lacey panties across your vulnerable bottom. You quickly turn away and shake your head in regret as his arm raises high above your butt. You are surprised when the first slap crashes against your young meaty skin.

Shock waves of pain wash up your spine and you barely have time to compose yourself before the next one cracks down harder. Again and again and again the merciless swats come. You give way to your emotions and cry out, "I'm sorry!" You fight back tears that are burning in your eyes. Your breath shudders. You begin to squirm and kick to break free of his grasp, but he has you locked in tight in a scissors grip.

You've lost count now as more hard smacks torture your soft ass. Suddenly he jerks down your panties and you feel him twist as if he is reaching for something. You look back just as he produces an old ping pong paddle. Stubborn tears begin to run down your cheeks as he blisters your bottom with a volley of hard smacks. Tiny blood vessels in your buttocks have surfaced and your whole backside is pulsating with stinging pain. "Stand up," he commands. You stand and rub your burning bottom. You look at him expecting a good chewing out but you are disappointed when he motions toward his desk. "Lay across my desk and raise your skirt.!" Your lacey panties hang at your knees as you hesitantly walk over and position yourself on the desk. Your bottom feels exposed as air from a ceiling fan blows down on it's nakedness.

You wonder if he can see your vagina and you tighten your legs together in shame. Grabbing the edge of the desk you pull yourself up higher on the desk and lay your head to the side. He is holding a thick leather strap in his hand and you whimper as tears stream from you eyes. Then you tighten your buttock muscles as you anticipate the first lash.

You barely have a chance to take a shuddering breath as two and three and four more strokes crack down on your tender ass cheeks. The stinging pain is turning to pleasure, emotional pleasure. Your brain squirms as harder well-positioned licks of the heavy strap shock you into submissiveness. You suddenly love this man who is disciplining you. You want to stand and throw your arms around him a release a river of penitent tears on his shoulder.

You are beginning to feel a new emotion, a sexual emotion that is contrary to your situation. Your modesty is lost as your legs flail wildly exposing your wet pussy. You find yourself lifting your bottom in eagerness of the next whip of the strap. You have a strong urge to touch your vagina. When you wiggle your hand under your belly and find your magic button your hand fills with creamy secretions.

Impervious to the constant whips of the leather strap you concentrate on your wetness and gratification. Your belly swells with ecstasy and your whole body stiffens as a pleasurable wave of tingling sensations rip through your body. At last the punishment ends. You are made to stand facing a corner and to keep your skirt lifted up. Your bottom is throbbing from the whipping, but you feel wonderful all over. You feel refreshed. You feel forgiven. You feel disciplined and you feel loved.