Spanking Story: See if I Care (M/F)

Yeah... I wish...
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See if I Care

“Honey, turn the light off,” he said, checking his watch. “I’m trying to sleep. It’s almost twelve”.

She went on pounding at the keyboard, deaf at his request. Something had clicked wrong in her head while she was reading the last story. Her rebellious self unfolded, triggered by her mind’s answer to the main character’s actions. She didn’t understand it, but she embraced the feeling.

“Please turn off the light,” Mike said again. He didn’t raise his voice, but even if the tone was matter-of-factly she read the annoyance and the frustration lying underneath.

“No.” – she said simply.

“Do you need it?”

“No.” – she said again.

“Then please turn it off.”

“No.”

She had a vague feeling that she was provoking him on purpose; she was pushing it, very aware of the discomfort she was causing him. And she also was aware that this scene would not have taken place before she had asked for rules to be established in the house. He did not refuse to take part in the project, but she hadn’t been spanked either. She felt guilty for some of her actions. And her guilt raised the frustration in her, which lead to deliberate disobedience.

Mike stirred in bed for a few minutes, as if trying to consider his next move. She knew he was. He was most probably debating on what to do next. And she knew his thoughts, the moment she saw him standing up: he wanted to end the argument; he didn’t want to confront her. He switched the light off. Without even looking up, Jas continued to type madly at her computer.

As he lay in bed again, she went for the switch and the light was on once more. Her statement read “you can’t ignore me forever”. She made it clear. Mike grumbled. A real grumble. An angry grumble which caused her to pray that he would finally do something; if not, this would become an argument, and they would be at each other’s throats till morning.

“Do you need the light on?” – He asked once more, popping his head out from under the blanket. She didn’t reply. She could bend the keys on the keyboard with the fury she was typing.

She heard him sigh and could almost hear the internal fight he was trying to control. Without a word, he stood up and went for her, yanked her up by the arm.

“Common,” he said.
This wasn’t right. A spanking should not happen because he was annoyed; a spanking should happen because she needed it and because he would understand that need. Because he loved her and he knew there was no way around it. It wasn’t the case now. It made her furious. She snapped her arm free.

“Let me be,” she said.

“I’m spanking you, even if I have to drag you and fight you,” he added, grabbing her arm again. “Up!”

Jas looked up at him, with all the defiance she could muster. And there was plenty of it in her eyes, in her face. She stood up. “I’m not running. You don’t need to grab me like that.”

For a second he seemed to consider, trying to understand what she was at. Was she playing some kind of game again? He grabbed his jeans from the chair and slid the belt out of the loops. He looked at her expectedly.

“Yeah, spank me,” she said. “See if I care. See if I give a damn.” The rebel teenager buried deep inside was desperately pushing to come out. The association was perfect in her mind: teenager, used to get her ass tanned, but pretending not to care. She was so good at pretending she believed it herself.

Mike raised his eyebrows at her. She unzipped her pants, pulled them down. It was the first time he didn’t ask her to do it. She gave him a defiant look then pulled down her panties, to her knees, and, without a word, she bent over, hands on the bed.

“See if I care,” she repeated. It was more to her this time, probably because she started to grow aware of what she was doing.

Mike didn’t reply, but let her play her game. He doubled the belt over, moved to her side. She thought she was in control. Let’s see how you handle this, he mused. He grabbed her panties, yanked them down. Not because they weren’t where they should have been, but because – he bent over slowly, whispering in her year – “You get spanked here because I say so, not because you want to.” It was a strong kick at the first piece of the domino. He was going to break her from inside. She felt it. She felt that illusion of control slip through her fingers, but she fought the feeling back, like a kid trying to squeeze its fingers together hoping for the water not to drain down. She raised her eyes, fixed them stubbornly on the white wall in front.

Mike watched her reaction. He hadn’t been determined to break her before, but now he was. Without further ado, he moved to her left side and raised the belt. He raised it as high as he dared to. It was a challenge and he would not be beaten at it. The belt came down hard. She winced only. The belt snapped again against her bottom, but she kept looking forward, trying to detach herself from the pain.

It would take some work to get to her, but he didn’t mind. He went on spanking her, not having time to watch the welts build on her white skin. He wished he could see her face. But he watched her knuckles instead, turning white with the strength she was putting into grabbing the blanket tight into her fists. He also heard a muffled sob, which she couldn’t control anymore. The belt fell, this time, on the curve under her butt. She yelped; fists tightened even more on the blanket; her bottom went forth and it took her more than usual to bring it back into position.

He could be mean, if that’s how she wanted to play. He cracked the belt again, on the same spot. Jasmine yelped. He didn’t wait for her ass to come baak; he gave one more lick on the same spot again. And then again, and again. He watched her small body starting to collapse slowly in front of him, as she began to refuse to present her bottom again for punishment.

He bent over her small body again, whispering in her ear: “Do you give a damn now? Hm?” She didn’t answer, but tears dripped from her nose to the blanket. He played the bastard card in response. “Are you crying? See if I care.” She sobbed out loud. “Bring your ass back. We are not finished when you want to; we are finished when I say so.”

She complied, but slowly, as if trying to find her way out of it in the meantime. Again he didn’t wait for her to finish her thoughts – the belt landed hard on her upper thighs. Her arms shook and she let her torso rest on her elbows. Her forehead touched the pillow in front of her.

Mike kept her on ‘ignore’, but his eyes traveled many times from her behind to her position. He could tell what was going through her mind. Now he could read her like a book.

“Please.” – She whispered, between sobs.
“Come again?”
She didn’t repeat it. He didn’t wait for a reply. He went on spanking. The welts built to an angry red.

“Enough,” she said. Her hand flew back. He had reached her. Finally. Past the arrogance, the rebel wall, straight into her mind.
“Take your hand away.”
She did. He went on. She cried, quite loudly. She started twisting, hoping he would miss the spots that hurt so badly. He didn’t.
“Please… Enough…”
He stopped for a moment, giving her false hopes. Mike raised her wet chin, forced her to look up, into his eyes. “This is punishment, just like you wrote in your letter. This is not playing. This is you and me, not me and your alternate ego. And I decide when you had enough. Is that clear?”
She nodded.
“Good,” he added. “Now bring your bottom up again, please. *I* am not finished with you. I know you wanted to make your point. Now I am making mine.”

She complied. The rebel teenager was gone. He whipped her ass even after it had collapsed on the bed. The strokes were not hard anymore, but they felt horrible to her. He stopped and put away the belt. She didn’t move but continued to sob into the pillow.

“Now turn off that light, please,” he said.

A few minutes later she cuddled next to him in bed, arms around his waist, head buried in his back. She could finally sleep.

Spanking Story: Good Intentions (M/f, based on RL)

Let me give you some background first. This was my first M/f story (and the only one really) ever written. SamPast kind of convinced me to try. It was good, because it let some of the deamons out.

The story is based on a real life event, which happened when I was 8. Everything is exactly as I wrote it, only that I did not get a spanking for what I did. I was grounded by Mom. One year later, my Mom transfered me to another school, where I loved to go. It was an even better class (in terms of overall performances of pupils and performances). And I did even better than in my first one. Our teacher was the greatest teacher I've known. I had her only for one year, since starting the 5th grade (11yo) you get qualified teachers for each one of the classes you take.

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Copyright: SK, nov. 2001
M/f, nc, belt


Disclaimer: You know the rules and I am not gonna repeat
myself here. I hate writing disclaimers! +18 will do the
trick.


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"Good Intentions"


Jasmin was always the kind of girl who could get your
attention: always a broad smile on her face, a sparkle in her
eyes, her small and snub nose always wrinkling. She was the one
making the rules in the games, the one everyone would listen to,
even if her group of friends was formed of boys. No one has
ever tried to ridicule her or play pranks on her. She was the
number one girl in her class and she knew it. Until today.


On her way home, the smile had disappeared. Her teacher,
suddenly didn't like her face anymore and blew her an F.
And a 'black dot'. And for what? For a stupid mistake, the first
one she has made in two years. She was only 8, but she knew what
unfair meant. And this *was* unfair.


Last night, before going to bed, she prepared the books
that were to be carried to school with her. Unfortunetely, she
forgot about the Maths book somehow. And she payed a triple price
comparing to others who have done the same mistake before. An F.
No one has ever got an F in that class for forgetting things.
It was so unreal!


She didn't want to disappoint her Daddy. He was used only
to "A"s. What would he say now, about her getting an F? How would
she explain this to him? Oh, he would be so disappointed!


It was barely one in the afternoon when she reached her
home. Three hours left till her Daddy would come. And then what?
She couldn't tell him, he wouldn't believe her!


With shaky moves, she sat herself at the table and
dragged the small report card out of her schoolbag. A brilliant
idea crossed her mind. Since she was very good at immitating
her Dad's signiture, she concluded that the time to put this
in practice, for a 'noble cause', has come.


Without even blinking, she grabbed her pen and basically
'drew' his name next to the grade. There! All she had
to do now, was take the report card to the teacher and show her
that the grade has been signed.


It was only 1,30. The rest of the hours were spent
making plans about the lie that was to be told to her Daddy when
he would ask about the report card. And also, she needed a
good place to hide it for the next days. Under the edge of
the carpet, hidden behind the big closet in the living -
that was perfect!


***


From her room she heard the keys turning in the lock.
Then the door being opened and slammed shut. Then her Daddy's
voice calling for her:


"Jas? Are you home?"
Jasmin's heart boomed in her chest. Meeting him was more
difficult than a little girl like her could have imagined.
However,


"Hey Daddy!" she smiled, kissing his cheek.


Daddy had a hard a day - you could read it on his face.
His eyes were darker than usual and his eyebrows formed a little
frown.


"How was your day at school, baby?" He tried to smile,
his eyes locking hers with a weird look. But she didn't suspect
a thing. How could she?


" 'Twas fine, Daddy..." her reply came as usual.
"Nothing interesting going on..."


Jasmin couldn't believe her ears: she lied without even
blushing, face to face with her Daddy, eye to eye. She felt
guilty somehow and scared. There was a brat within herself, but
this was the first time when it came out, in its full splendour.
Yes, she has lied before, but those were small lies. This was a
huge one.


Daddy didn't say a word, just walked by her into the
bathroom to wash his hands.


"You didn't eat, did you?"
Her head shook a 'no', followed by a 'tsk'. "I waited
for you."He nodded again and headed for the kitchen this
time, to retrieve the food from the fridge.


There was an uncommon silence during lunch. And
the little one wasn't in the mood for making conversation
either, like she used to. She didn't have any nice stories
to tell, nothing to brag about. When Jon asked her about the
report card, she blushed furiously. He wasn't watching her,
making himself busy with the dish-washer. Her hands were
clasping together desperately, and she could feel her wet
and perspired palms. She knew she was nervous.


"I don't have it, Daddy" the trembled voice came, very
insecure. "The teacher took them all so she can write
something, but I dunno what... I mean she just took them...
like a week ago and now again... I dunno" The remarks were
made without any concern. Jon only saw her shrugging.


There was a long pause after. Jasmin, pretty sure that
she has made her way out of trouble, was getting ready to ask
him to let her out, play a bit before her homework, but his
sudden interruption didn't allow her to speak her mind.


"That's quite unusual, isn't it, Jasmin?"
Her eyes froze on him. There was a knot in her throat,
and a shiver traveling fast, down her spine.
"I dunno, Daddy..." she mumbled. "Guess so..."


Oh, if only this discussion would come to an end! She
wanted to run out of the room and hide herself in her bedroom,
as fast as possible. She couldn't stand his glare. Did he know
she was guilty? This was so unfair and so frustrating...


She wrinkled her nose. She always did it when she was
nervous. It was a reflex, something she couldn't control.


"You know what's weird, Jas? " he spoke with an amused
but also serious tone. His back rested against the counter.
"It's weird 'cause you see, I met your teacher on the street
today, and she hasn't told me anything about any report cards
being held by her..."


Her eyes flew open and her head rose to stare at him.
She coudln't help the tears that emerged in her eyes. He knew
all along that she's been lying to him, and didn't say a word.
Yes, Jon only wanted to see how far she could go. And now, he
was playing his cards, in a manner which she didn't enjoy one
bit.


"Daddeeeeeeeee...." he heard her whine. The corners of
her mouth were slowly coming down. Stopping herself from
crying was a visible effort.


But he didn't answer her cry, simply went on:
"And she also mentioned something about your Math
book...Quite amazing, eh? " His fingers tapped the counter.
"I mean, you told me a quite different story, haven't you,
Jas?"
Jas couldn't answer. Her lips were sealed and the only
sound she could make was a little whimper.


Once again he ignored her tear stained face. He knew
how to get her, to make her tell the truth on such occasions.
She was so proud and so stubborn, that screaming at her or a
negative approach, would have harmed her mind forever.


"Now, you see... I'm very puzzled, sweetie... From
the two of you, only one can be telling the truth. And I
wonder if that one is you?"


Jasmin couldn't hold it any longer and she broke into
a pitious cry. Her small body started shaking, her sobs choked
her and she didn't have enough hands to wipe the ever-flowing
tears from her eyes.


"Daddy, I'm sorreeeee..." she exploded. She didn't know
why she was crying, but probably she knew she was in trouble.
Big trouble. Besides, she was scared bacause her Daddy wasn't
caring about her cries this time. When she looked at his face,
Jasmin could see only his frown, his seriousness. He was too
stern right now and bareing it was impossible.


"Bring me the report card, Jasmin!" She shook her head
"no". She had forged his signature. She wasn't allowed to. That
was a big mistake. Oh, God, he would be so mad at her now! Ever
worse than before.


"Young lady, don't you make me take out my belt and make
you bring it! I wanna see that report card, right now!"


Desperate moment. Hands shaking with fear,
choking at each word, she'd say: "Oh Daddeeeee... no,
pleaaase...I'm sorry... I won't do it again! I promise!"


That's because she knew what to expect. She had a
feeling that that belt would come out today anyway. She was
crying and begging for forgiveness for what had happened and
for what *will* happen. She wanted him to know she was sorry,
now, since later, after seeing the signature, he wouldn't
listen anymore!


"It's so unfair Daddy!! I didn't deserve the 'F'!
Everyone got only a 'black dot' but I got the F!" she
whimpered, very hurt by her teacher's unfair decision.


" I don't care about the F, Jasmin... I care about you
lying to me. Now stop the fuss and bring me the report card!"


Finally she stood up. If only she could have glued
herself to the chair! She didn't want to do this! She didn't
want him to see. No no no! But she did took him to the hidden
place. She managed to get her small body behind the closet,
in the corner, and retrieve the stupid report card from under
the carpet.


Jon could only watch his daughter with stupour. He was
shocked this time and felt as if the whole blood was
rising to his head. No, he didn't care about the F. He knew it
was unfair. He cared about his daughter lying and hiding things
from him.


When Jasmin offered him the card, more whining came.
Since standing up was an effort now, she hid her face in her
hands and went on crying there, while being on her knees.


"Daddy, I'm sorry.. I'm sorry, Daddeeee... I won't do
it again..."


Jon's eyes laid on the grade.. and then he saw it: the
signature. His signature. For a moment, he didn't have words.
He simply felt the anger taking over him, and keeping that under
control was the hardest task ever.


"You ... forged ... my signature?" Cut words, matching
his fury. His look froze on the sobbing little girl, sittig on
her knees next to him. No pitty in his heart whatsoever, this
time. "You dared to lie to me, hide your report card AND forge
my signature?!"


"Daddeeee... noooo... it was so unfair!" she managed
to let out from between sobs. "It won't happen again... I'm
sorreeee..."


"We'll see to that!" he grumbled, as he set away the
card on the table and his hands went to unsnap his belt.


The noise scared her even more than his voice. She
pleaded again, but she was only repeating herself and the
words were falling anyway on death ears. When he asked her
to stand up, she didn't move, just tried to hide herself closer
to the closet. She wanted to run. She wanted someone to get her
out of trouble. But there was only him and her, as always.
She wondered if, if her Mom had been there, she would have
helped her. But her Mom belonged to the past. It's been only
him and her since she learnt how to walk.


Jon grabbed her arm tightly and yanked her up. She was
too scared to comply, so she kicked back, trying to escape. Of
course, there was no escape, but in her mind, even hiding in the
closet would have provided some delay.


"Stop your kicking right now, young lady! Don't make me
punish you for this too!" he growled. But she wouldn't listen.


Somehow he managed to carry her to the couch. And there,
he sat himself down pulling her in front of him. One hand was
holding the belt, the other one had a good grip of her arm.


"Pull down your pants and panties..."
She shook her head 'no' once more, not being able of
actually pronouncing the word. Jon didn't reply, just started
unbottuning her jeans. Then, ignoring her protests and kicks
and cries, somehow he managed to yank them down to her knees.
And when her panties joined the trousers, he didn't waste any
time in placing her over his lap and locking her legs under his.


"Daddddeeeeeeeee....! Noooo...pleaaase Daddy!! I'm
sorreeeeee! DADDEEE?!" her voice intensified. Her hands were
brought to the small of her back and his hand reached one more
time the belt.


"First let's get rid of this bad attitude of yours!"
he snapped back and rose his arm.


The blow was hard and she screamed from the top of her
lungs. It took her ten strokes to calm down and stop fighting
back. But she did try to wriggle off his lap, she tried to kick
her feet, free her hands, avoid the searing pain.


"Now, young lady..." Jon paused for a bit, listening to
her sobs."Let's take things in cronological order, shall we?
About you lying to me..."And the belt made its way down again,
making Jasmin's cries rise.


"I'm sorreeeeee... Daddeee, no more pleaaaaseee..."
"You knew *lying* WHACK WHACK was wrong... Didn't you?!"
"Yes Daddy, pleaaaseee... I won't do it again. I swear!"
More strokes fell on her already red behind.
"Am I making my point, young lady?"
"Yes Sir, please Daddy!..."
The agony was unbearable. Not the pain itself, but the
humiliation of being spanked. She couldn't stand that! It was
too much for her ego.But when the spank reached the 'hiding the
report-card sin', she didn't care anymore about her proud.


He spanked her for that too. Ten fast strokes against
her flesh. And then the signature... Another ten, but milder ones
this time. He knew she wouldn't do it again. But he didn't want
to let her up without punishing her for that, too.


The moment he sat the belt aside, she didn't move. He
pulled up her panties slowly, and carefully put her on his lap,
kissed her forehead and stroke her hair. Her funny pig tails were
a mess and those cute eyes were all swollen and red.


"Shhhhh...shhhh... my little baby..." he whispered.
One finger pushed her chin up. "Look at me, sweetie..."
She did. She wanted to. She wanted her Daddy's hug and
she felt the need to be pampered and spoilt a bit.
"You know that I love you more than anything else,
don't you, sweetie?"


Wiping her eyes she tried to cover her sobs. She only
nodded.
"But the F *was* unfair, Daddy!"
"I know, sweetie..." he smiled. "That's why I wasn't
mad at you for that, but mad at you for hiding it from me..."


"Yes Daddy..." she cringed. Her little head burried in
his chest. For five minutes no one talked. The light was getting
dim inside the room. It was already evening...


"Okay, baby... How about first you promise me never to
do anything like this again, and then me and you watching
something nice together? And then I will help you with the
homeworks, hm? How does that sound?"


She smiled, the sweetest smile ever.


"I'll always be good, Daddy.. I promise!"


~The END~

Laughing at Spanking

Here is one more funny clip related to spanking... and sausages. :D

Spanking Story: A Rough Evening

A Rough Evening

I am dead meat, Alex's first thoughts were when he reached home, two hours later than usual. He had been wandering outside, trying to postpone the inevitable. He did his best at trying to find excuses why he had been found smoking and having his hands all over this girl in the girls' restroom, but he was quite sure that his suspension would not make his parents happy. He could already picture his Mom having a fit; as for his Dad, he refused to picture anything.

Six months since his last spanking and it seemed like yesterday.

His heart pounded harder against his ribs when he pushed the door open.

Dad's voice came booming from upstairs: "Young lady, open this door this instant. You hear me?"

What the heck was going on?

"Honey, please open the door..." - his Mom's voice trailed right after his father's. Bad cop, good cop, Alex thought.

"I don't want to!" Alright, that was Ashley, echoing from the bathroom upstairs.

"I will count to three. If you don't open it, I will break it down. You hear me? And if you make me break down the door, I swear to you, you will not be sitting for a month! ONE!"

"Honey?... Just open the door..."

Alex threw his jacket on a chair, unsure of what to do next. He got himself a coke from the fridge (TWO - Dad's count continued from upstairs) and took the letter out of his school bag. He wasn still unsure if to show it to his parents or not. He could have saved it for later... for some day when they would be on vacation, when his Dad couldn't spank him and when he stood a chance of getting away with only being grounded.

"THREE!"

The lock was opened.

It was going to be quite a show. He felt sorry for Ashley. Honestly. Probably because she was a girl and he thought she couldn't take a proper spanking. Also because she didn't know much about spankings, since Dad had rarely whipped her. She feared his words and threats and stayed out of trouble. Unlike him...

There was a big commotion upstairs, with the door being slammed open and hitting the wall. Then Ashley's pleads reached him. They scratched his nerves. He swallowed hard. Soon it wil be his turn - with his Dad's mood today... God help me, he thought.

"Daddy, don't spank me,pleaaseee..." Ahsley was bawling upstairs. More screaming, more crying. "Not my panties. Daddy, no!" Then, the spanking started - hairbrush, from what Alex could tell.

He saw his Mom coming down from upstairs. He would have expected to see sorrow on her face - but no, it was anger this time. No crying, no nothing. Ashley's weeps echoed from the bathroom though, filling the room. His Mom passed him, without a word, heading towards the kitchen. Oh, shit, she knew! How could they know? How was it possible? Did Mrs Brown call home? He was screwed.

"I won't do it again... Daddy... Owe!" - Ashley's words rang again from upstairs.
"You surely won't. I can promise you that!"

Chopping sounds were coming from the kitchen, as his mother had started cooking dinner.

Alex mustered his courage to go to her.

"Mom, I'm sorry..."
No reply came.
"Mooom? Please. It was a mistake, I know it. I don't like seeing you mad at me." That was the truth. "Mom, please... You know Dad's gonna spank me for it..." He was begging. His only ally was gone.
"He'd better," were her words.
He looked down, sighed. She went on chopping the carrot, so focused as if her life depended on chopping it right.
"I'm sorry," Alex whispered one more time. He walked away. As if on automatic pilot, his steps took him upstairs, to his parents' room. As he passed by the bathroom, he didn't turn to look at a screaming Ashley getting her ass whipped loudly by her father. He felt his Dad's eyes upon him, for a second, and, even though there were no words, he felt the anger. Without switching the lights on in his parents' bedroom, he opened the closet and reached for the black belt. In his eyes, tears started forming. In slow motion, he doubled the belt over, hung his head down and walked the long mile towards his Dad's office. He was slightly aware that the commotion had ended in the bathroom - the spanks had ceased for awhile and between his sister's sobs he could here his Dad lecturing her. He also passed his Mom, and he caught her shocked look; but that lasted for an instant, as long as it took her to put on her stern mask again.

This is a first, he thought. They also know it. I'm not running away from the spanking. Yeah... because I know I will end up with a tanned bottom anyway.

His father's office was dark. He switched on the lamp on his desk, folded the belt, and placed it next to it. He pulled out the envelope from his pocket and laid it next to the belt. Then the jeans came down. And the boxers, at his knees. Sighing again, he lowered his torso over the arm of the sofa, reached for the nearest cushion, and burried his head in it. He was on the verge of crying. His eyes sparkled with tears. There was a chill up his spine and it made him tremble.

Behind the closed doors he could still hear the chopping knife on the cutting board, but Ashley's cries had subsided. His Mom's voice coming from the other side of the door startled him:

"In your office, dear. He's very contrite. I know you're very angry but please don't be too hard on him."
"You're kidding, right?" - Dad said, and yes, the tone was that of an angry person. "I promise you, he will have only what he deserves."
"He's very sorry though..."
"Yes, sorry he got caught. Sorry he's getting a whipping."

There was a long pause, but no one entered. Alex tensed. Then his Mom's voice came again: "Honey, don't spank him with that. Jack, please..."

The door opened. Alex raised his eyes to meet his Dad's stare. The man paused for a second, looking at his son. Alex got the glimpse of what the man had brought for his imminent spanking: the ratan cane, the piece of antique crap from the garage. It was never used but it was never thrown either. Unfortunately. Panicking, Alex tried to beg his way out, but his mind decided against it, and he let out a sob, as he couldn't control his tears anymore. The corners of his mouth went down, his chin trembled, but he still tried to pull a straight face. His face hid in his arms.

Jack walked to the desk, opened the envelope and took his time reading the letter. It wasn't necessary, but he did it anyway.

There were no words. He put down the letter, rolled up his shirt's sleeves. By the looks of it, he didn't have time to change his suit. Jack simply picked up the belt, cracked it once against his desk, for emphasis, then moved to Alex's left side. Alex tensed, teeth biting hard in his sleeve.

It landed hard across his bottom. His mind collapsed. His crying, building up inside, had been waiting for this moment to come out. His face screwed in a grimace, but no sound came out of him. The whipping was faster in the beginning, then, by the time Alex sharted shaking and hiccuping, it became slow and more determined. It gave him time to gather himself each time. And then, the disaster started - the swats came pouring down, overlapping mercilessly the previous bruises. Alex jumped. His hand went back to cover the seat-spot, but Jack was there to catch it and bring it to the small of his back. "Oh, I don't think so," Jack said, when Alex tried to push himself up desperately. "Give me your other hand also, Alex..." Bawling like a baby, Alex obeyed. "Normally, this spanking would be over by now. But not this time. This time you really crossed the line!" Alex cried but he felt he had no air left for crying. The belt continued to fall. It was all over his butt and his legs. He was kicking, arching his legs, begging for forgiveness. Then he stopped. He gave up. He didn't have the strength anymore. The spanking stopped. Alex tried to reach down for his boxers.

"Have I told you to stand up?" His hand collided soundly with Alex's ass. "Have I?"
"No... Sir..."
"You still have the cane coming. Don't worry, the moment I am finished with you tonight, I am sure I won't be hearing any more complaints from your teachers anymore."
"Dad... no... I promise... I swear... it won't happen again... Not the cane, Dad..."
"Count them for me and make sure you don't miss any."
"Oh, Daaaad..." Alex managed to gather his forces to start crying again.

The cane sliced his flesh almost - or at least that's how it felt.
"Alex?"
"One, Sir..."
The next one felt even worse.
"Two Sir!"
"Three Sir!"
"Four... Dad, please..."
"Five...Sir..."
The sixth one came delayed and Alex gasped a "six" before collapsing back on his cushion.

"Will I have to spank you again Alex? Skipped classes, drinking, girls, smoking... Have you finished with all of these for now or do you thik you need a reminder every week?"
"I'll behave..."
"You're still getting a reminder next week. And this cane", Jack said swishing it through the air, "will remain into your room for as long as it takes to teach you how to behave."
"YesSir."

"Look at me!"
Alex tried to stop his hiccuping and to look at his Dad.
"I don't want to ever spank you like this again. Do you understand that?"
Alex nodded.
"But I will do it again if necessary. It's up to you to stop it. And what time did you get home today?"
Alex didn't answer but started crying again, tryin to lower his eyes from his Dad's.
"Two hours late."
"Six with the cane tomorrow evening," Jack said flatly.
"But I am sore Dad..."
"So you are..."
"Just ground me. Please... Anything, just don't spank me again."
"The cane. Tomorrow." His Dad bent over and kissed his forehead. "I'm sorry I had to do this, but you know better."
Alex nodded.
"You may pull up your pants now. And you are grounded for a month. Don't even think about breaking any of the rules!"
"No Sir..."

Jack tried to smile. "Take the belt and the cane with you when you go upstairs..."
"Yes, Sir. Dad..."
Jack turned around.
"What did Ashley do?"
Jack smiled.
"She threw a tantrum about going out tonight, without doing her homework, then ran away from me and locked herself in the bathroom."
"Yeah, she should know better than that by now..." - Alex added. He felt more spiritual now that he was off the hook, but he let out a cry when he pulled up his jeans over his bottom.
"It seems to me that at sixteen you are still learning."
"At least I didn't run."
"No, you were just two hours late, thinking of a way out, and when you found none, you decided upon behaving. Because you knew that you were gonna get spanked anyway. Or else you would have still negotiated your way out. Smart move though, I'll grant you that."
Alex picked the belt and the cane. He wiped his nose again, and picked the cushion.
"Mom won't be happy with this," he said, staring at the snort and the saliva on the fabric. He paused for a second. "Dad, you weren't serious about the cane tomorrow,right?"
Jack raised his eyebrows as if saying, 'Excuse me? Are you negotiating with me? This is incredible.'
"Upstairs, Alex. Now. I am not kidding."
As Alex passed by, he swatted his butt soundly again. Alex screamed. "See? You don't want to feel the belt again tonight, do you?"
Alex flew up to his room.

Spanking Clip (Domestic Discipline)

I don't remember the name of this movie, but it was on HBO and I loved watching it.

Fans of M/M and M/m, here is a clip worth watching, I promise you!

Great Snippet 2

Here is a couple that turns me on even before I reach the actual spanking:

When they entered the front doors of the school, Drew took a deep breath. He was totally out of his element and felt almost as if he was in a foreign country. He hated schools, and it all came back to him the minute he walked through the doors. People were already giving him startled looks. He was wearing his black leather jacket and grease covered jeans. His dark fuzzy hair and unshaved face only made him look even more formidable. Alex looked like a young teen rebel, with her semi-gothic style of dress and angry expression. It wasn’t that difficult for a casual observer to see that in an odd sort of way Drew and his daughter Alex seemed to go together.

A hot Dad and a rebel teenage daughter. *grin*

Story unfolds slowly to:

“For starters you’re going to bring home all your current homework and do it every single day. Then you can start making up all the work you are missing, one class at a time. You are going to be a very busy girl.” He mused.

Alex tightened her jaw in anger. “And if I don’t?”

“I think you know the answer to that.” He said looking at her sternly. “You will get more of what I’m about to give you.”

Hot is not enough to describe it. If you want the whole story, try out Jujubees' place here.

Last Night

Talking to Paul is therapy. hehe Initially I wanted to post a reply to comment but I gave up when i realized I was writing novels in my reply. So, Paul advised a very normal thing if your mind is sound:

"Kay, the only thing that I can advise, is ask. Dom/Tops can't read minds. If you really need a spanking, and Jack isn't picking up on you, copy and paste this post and email it to him. It would be so much easier if we could read minds.
I've added another comment to the previous post.
Warm hugs,
Paul."


Paul, I ain't asking anything! Not dirtectly, at least... Yesterday I managed to tell him (cuz my brain was on fire): "How come I am such a bad baby and I always get away with it? Am I just lucky?"

He grabbed my arm and dragged me to the couch - but it was the couch with the window open and the curtains open and I whined about it - "No... the neighbors can seeeee..." And then he wanted to change the bed without letting go of me, but I started hugging him and kissing his neck and spoiling myself. And he was laughing by that time and only said: "Hugging gets you out of trouble, that's why you do it, hm?" And I giggled and we huggled some more.

Truth is, Paul, my Mom was coming over last night - I finally called back after 7 missed calls (I was out!! Can't hear phone in restaurant and traffic.) and asked her - see how rude I am - if she went crazy calling like that. It seems she didn't go crazy, she was just 2 hours away from us, coming to the ministry for an urgent meeting. It was really nice that she came, but I got to see her last night briefly for 2 hours and in the morning I only got to kiss her good-bye.

Thing is, I haven't taken my vitamins for a few months now. And I *know* what that means when I am very stressed and tired...

Last week we wanted to eat out but when we reached the place it was very crowded, and hot, and it smelled like food. My stomach went instantly bad, I got dizzy - I was on the verge of both throwing up and fainting. So I told Jack that I needed out right then, because I can't stand anymore. I couldn't breathe. I had a knot in my throat. I am not claustrophobic. But my Calcium or Magnezium dropped a lot recently, it seems. Next day I refused to eat until five in the evening and I was again almost fainting. All week I've been eating nothing almost - I am not hungry -, went to bed at 1-2am and woke up at 7, smoked like a chimney... so last night, on our way home from the restaurant, my heart went crazy. I would have arrhythmia now and then for a few minutes... but last night, hell, it kept going from 8 through 12. I hadn't bought vitamins or calcium either lately, and I refused anything sweet to boost the sugar in my blood... I refused food when my Mom asked me... Ten years ago I would be that stubborn that only when I was already in the worst condition and the whole house was alarmed I would take something to get over my problems. "I can do it. I can get over it without help" - is my motto.

Honestly, I think that for this I deserve a good spanking. Any Top in his right mind would do it. But instead, Jack pampers me, going on with the phylosphy that spanking would not help, since I like spanking?! Honestly, I think it would.

Great Snippet

Oh, you gotta love this (thanks to Iris who brought a great writer to my attention - Ranger):

>>>
"I'll behave." Jamie said with charming contrition. I fixed him with a stare that finally managed to disconcert him.

"Believe me, I can damned well make you."
>>>

To the point. Dialogues like these are hotter than the spanking itself.

Going... Berserk Here

If Jack doesn't spank me really good one of these days, the whole company will know I am into spanking. Spanking thoughts are oozing out through my pores already! And the terrible thing is that my partner is making crazy comments on spanking, without any visible problems. I swear that one day I won't be able to hold it inside anymore! :( I need to yell it out loud!

Guys, has this ever happened to you? Am I mad or something? I feel like calling one of my new friends and just.. confessing. And I know I cannot afford that. I mean... you cannot trust people, you know. *sigh*

I have so many things to worry about in real life right now and spanking is the only thing keeping me... ticking. If only my best friend would call now! If only! *sigh*

What's in a Name?

It takes me 15 minutes to get to work the moment I get on the subway. And usually, after the 3rd of 4th stop only a few people remain on. I usually get to sit and think.

Let's say you've been together for a while (or not) with this guy and you decide to sleep with him. While being a perfect gentleman in everyday life, he turns out to be dominant in bed. Girls, a dominant in bed is a safe bet - from the spanking point of view.

I mean... dominant. What is dominant? It's someone who likes to have control in bed - because we are talking about sexual things here. It's only a way of being. But a way of being needs to have something beneath - something deeper. Like a submissive in bed. How do you become submissive? When you let yourself being tied down... when you let him grab your hair and slap your butt... when you let go. So, ok, you are dominant, but how do you show it? It's hard to explain, but there has to be a cause. And from liking to grab someone's hair to slapping some butt and then spanking, is not a long road.

Take my guy for example... He liked to have control. Ok, he's not the obsessed spanker, but hell, we have some good sex and spanking around here!

-----------

Paul asked:

"Kay, what, exactly is your point!!?
Warm hugs,
Paul."

I knew I wasn't clear enough when I closed the damn comment. I was going to excuse myself and say: "sorry, I can't explain what the heck I mean?" Because, you know how it is when you get a 'flash' of something - an impression. The synapsis is so fast that your mind can't understand what it means, however, you are very clear about what the 'thought' implies.

Anyway... I was thinking again about Paul's question today. I think I meant that when you look for a guy who could become a spanko in the future, a dominant in bed - even if he is not a spanker - is a pretty safe bet. Because domination has to be achieved through something. (Do you understand what I mean by 'domination has to be achieved somehow?") And if domination will turn him on, spanking could also, more or less, since it is a form of domination.

Need to be Under Control

I was wrong... I need to be under control or else my life becomes chaotic. It's what Paul mentioned on someone else's blog: dominant in real life, ok, but I need someone to temper me. I could do without someone - I could do perfectly fine even - but I need someone to control me.

Meme Again... The Four Things

Found it on a few blogs lately:

Four jobs I have had in my life:
1. can't mention any; if someone comes on my site and reads these two, they know from the start who I am. Sorry guys...


Four movies I have seen more than once:
1. Maverick
2. The Others
3. What Women Wants
4. Duets

Four places I have lived:
1. Where I grew up
2. Where I went to school
3. Where I went to university
4. Where I got married (now I moved again hehe)

Four Shows that I watch (not necessarily regularly)
1. Merge
2. Location.. location...location...
3. Anything on BBC Prime when I get the chance... everything they have on is fine with me.

Four places I have been:
1. London
2. Vienna
3. Egypt
4. Italy

Four People who e-mail me (regularly):
1. Masters Friend #1
2. Masters Friend #2
3. Best friend
4. Does spam mail count? lol

Four of my favorite foods:
...generally speaking I like...
1. chocolate
2. chestnuts
3. pizza
4. ?

Four places I would rather be right now.
1. Abroad
2. In a nice house
3. In the corner, with a spanking on its way
4. My grandparents' house

Four things I am looking forward to this year
1. Getting a new appartment and having more rooms for my pets
2. Getting a promotion
3. Saving animals or convincing people about animal rights
4. Writing my damn book already

Happy times
1. Christmas with my family (never to be the same after both my grandparents passed away but that's life)
2. 'No work today' the kind of day
3. Chatting with Jack

Spanked...

Not today and not this week. But I got a few minor spankings over the past month. After a long break, even a minor spanking seems 'hard'. But you know it's mild since you only get a pink bottom.

So Jack decided to spank me 'just 'cause' a few times. It was fun. But also pathetic because it makes you crave more.

Ihave nothing else to add. I am too tired to think and my eyes are hurting. And again, I have too many things on my mind...

Funny...

I have my badge from work on the desk and while I was staring at my amused face in the picture I was wondering - "what are the chances of a spanko recognizing another spanko on the street?".

How should a spanko's face look like? Well, not like my picture on the badge, that's for sure. I look like I have no worry in this world - a big fat smile, shiny eyes... Yeah, it was my 1st day there, that's why I was so bright! hehe

Take a pic now to see two hollow eyes, dark in their orbits, and my smile would probably be a grimace. :)

Yeah, nothing to do with spanking I guess. But that's normal. It's 10 o'clock sharp here and even though I wanted to write a little today I ended up playing American Football on my PS2. And time flew. Flew... my head got mixed for a second with the spelling. Does it ever happen to you? I mean sometimes I have to write the word down to remember how to spell it - and it always happens when someone asks you how to spell something, you know? And while you normally type it unconsciously, you cannot spell it when you're asked. hehe

Other Memories

I am on a roll today with posting...

Writing a post causes me to remember other things.

I remember that when I was small, until the age of 15-16, even though I had boyfriends and so on, I liked to be around boys. I had only two girlfriends - one because we were in the same class, the other because our parents were friends and we were neighbors. But I would play with them stupid girlish games only if the boys were 'unavailable'. This behavior drove my parents crazy - as in they cut all my soccer balls thinking that that would stop me from playing soccer. They grounded me - to no avail. They slapped me - nothing. I had climbing trees and construction buildings in my blood. Playing 'Cowboys and Indians' was also in my blood... action figures, cars (they had to buy me cars because I wouldn't like dolls - I spanked them, so go figure! hehe), soldiers, train sets, lego, games related to sports, etc. And my favorite - soccer. I would play soccer from the moment I got home until I had to do my homeworks in the evening. That's how I managed to cut my leg and have it stiched at 8.

Anyway, when my soccer mates weren't out, I was hanging out with the boys in my building - who could not play soccer (how weird is it for a guy not to play soccer? Soccer still seems to me a very manly thing. If you can't play a manly game, you're not a man in my eyes. Sorry. :) ) One of them was the craziest kid there was - the climbing on everything type and who breaks his teeth at my birthday party; the other - the silent type, whom we would always get in trouble. We were not allowed to wander around the construction site and climb on those buildings for obvious reasons. But we never listened. We were also supposed to be home before dark. This time we managed to drag this boy with us until it was quite dark. His parents went mad looking for him. We heard his Dad calling him home - he was very pissed. And my crazy friend said then - let's go their door and listen to him getting whacked. Which we did. But we were interrupted by him coming to the door, eyes in tears, very embarassed, asking us to leave. I know - we were evil.

The other kid - the crazy one - also got a good whacking once, because he threw potatoes out of his balcony to the people down, and he managed to hit an old man who did not understand the joke. So he went right on to the kids parents. His Dad really spanked his ass. hehe

Reasoning...

Going out to buy cigarettes seems to be extremely inspiring for me.

For example, for the past weeks I have been writing M/m(t) stories and I argued that M/f(t) is something that I cannot write. Previously, I have also mentioned that I like writing 'real' stories, those that can happen actually. I am not much into fantasy, really... I also tried to find out why I think M/f(t) could not be real - because, as we all know, they are. And my conclusion was simple: a father spanking his own teenage daughter seems the wrong kind of father figure to me. A father should spank when necessary, for guidance, and... well... maybe I am into the posh stuff I have mentioned in my previous post. Anyway, here I talk about spankings, not about beatings - where he grabs the belt and whacks her over her jeans on her legs and so on, because he is mad and he cannot control his child.

Such a case was one of my highschool classmate's. At 16, her father would still grab the belt and whack her ass and legs. He had reasons, trust me! I don't know what I would have done with such a daughter myself! Her crimes: skipping school (like most of us, and which was not considered a reason to be spanked, in our view), dating weird guys, running away from home, throwing tantrums, and being very rude to teachers. Sometimes she would come to school and, in front of everyone, she would say that her father spanked her again for running away with a guy or getting poor grades. As a proof, she would show us the tanning she still had on her legs. And she would give us all the details, with us all gathered around her. And then the guys in our class - because she was very crazy (read "popular") - would huggle her for confort. Now and then she would get the slipper - another familar instrument used in disciplinary sessions. Sometimes he would slap her - which I also thought to be wrong.

However, a guy getting slapped is something that turns me on instantly - and obviously, I cannot grab the reason of that...

Teaser from Teenage Years

They were teasers or startles back then. Since I know the people involved and since I don't sympathize with them I cannot use the plots for my own stories or fantasies; but maybe you can.

I was visiting this city with my best family friend and his mother, and obviously, we were invited to a family for dinner. It was one of those posh families, respecting traditions and crap. In this country, a family with a good background (grandparents having a university degree or similar, taken in 1920s-1930s) is a posh family. And their family friends are also coming - mostly, at least - from other posh families. And such a family holds onto traditions. The tradition says you spank your children and you don't raise brats, or else you are seen as a 'black sheep' among your family friends - that would be my case, since my Granma never hold onto this much and raised, without wanting to, a very rebelious child - that being me. The thing is - these families love talking about educating children, and many times, when your family has friends over or when you go visiting, you can always hear such discussions. You might argue that most of the children of the 70s and 80s were raised with spankings; and I agree. But the difference between a normal family and a posh one is that the latter would follow a 'spanking ritual'. Which is our case.

So this posh family I haven't seen before had a daughter who was at the time 17-18 years old. Over dinner, the discussion has reached educating children. Both me and my friend were 14-15, if I remember correctly. The mother of my friend said that spanking wasn't happening much anymore in their family, since my friend was already old enough not to receive crazy spankings anymore, but occasionally his Dad would still whack his ass. Besides, she complained, her spankings had never had a great impact on her son (another subject worth mentioning in another post). The other mother disagreed - to the point of arguing - that I child should be spanked for as long as the child lives with his parents. Disobeying should always be punished. For example, if the daughter would be late home - even ten minutes late - she would ask her to lie on the couch and she would spank her with a rod on her bare behind. And she would cry like a baby. She mentioned this to her boyfriends even, and proved it in front of one of them. The mother of my friend thought it to be a crazy thing to do and explained why, but the dinner was over and we had to leave and the argument was left in the air. Needless to say that I felt embarassed because I wasn't spanked. Oh -trust me - I would have felt even more embarassed if my parents were part of the discussion!

Raging Brat?

I had to change the name of the page. Of course, "Brat Under Control" still remains my fav; it's just that it does not describe me anymore. It used to - for a short period of time, but it was a temporary thing.

I have never been under control. And I will never be under control. Pretending to be is fun, of course. But I am tired of pretending. And honestly, I do not want to be under anybody's control.

Yes, ok, maybe you would say that this is just something temporary - because I am fucking mad right now, you know? Angry people do stupid things. But no... this is me. I don't want anybody to haver authority over me in any way. I want to get spanked when I want to get spanked. I could never obey any rules - I can pretend to, like many, but it's not real.

I am pissed also because I cannot drink anymore. Don't get me wrong - I was never a heavy drinker. I am a heavy drinker at parties only, and I attend parties extremely rarily. Why? Because I am not for drinking. But right now I am pissed at myself and my body that I cannot drink sufficiently to knock myself out. I cannot drink at all. Impossible, you say? Not really. Last time I had a glass of champagne I got a headache. When I had wine - I felt sick for two days in a row.

I miss my best friend. I really miss her. She was the only friend I could rely on - fully. You know... like when you want to go out and stuff. I could drink if she were here.

I guess I feel lonely. And bored. And exhausted from work. And... frustrated.

Anyway... don't leave comments, guys. I complain like in a diary here. I don't want pity or extra questions, you know...