Older Spanking Story: The Way I Want it to Happen (RL, M/F)

Hello again... tonight.

I don't usually post two stories in a row, but I've been thinking about this one lately. It was written more than seven years ago for A.S.S. It's not my best, but it gives me a feeling which no other story of mine does. Maybe because it was based on real events, which have happened to me and Jack. Maybe because back then I cared less about style and more about mood. Maybe because, being about us, it is more personal to me. And most probably because I love the thrills I still get when I read it.

It focuses on anticipation - still my favorite part of a story. I have editted it - just a bit, but here it is. You can still find the txt format in which in was originally written. Hope you enjoy it.

The Way I Want it to Happen

Copyright: SK (now KayleyBlue), April 2001

M/F, anticipation

The plane landed. Rushing to the 'passport control', I can't
take you out of my mind. I waited for almost 4 months to see you
again and now that I am here, I just can't believe it. The call last
night was short due to the high phone bills we always get, but you told me
you already emptied a shelf in your closet for me. Yes, soon I will
be outside, I will see you... I will kiss you. You have no clue how
much I missed you.

The flight was crap, but I'm getting used to them. Those 3
hours spent in 'transit' were the worst 3 hours of my life. It always
gets worse: the anticipation, the boredom when you are all alone and
have to entertain yourself. I spent the last night at home
cleaning my computer. It took me some time - 'Favorites' folder,
'My Pictures', 'My Documents', the trojans I'm keeping, the cookies,
the 'History' folder, the 'Temporary Internet Files'. When you are hiding
something from your parents or friends (like my kink) then you gotta
make sure no trace is left. Then in the morning, calling for the cab
and waiting for it to come... smoking all the time... worrying about the
weather up there... Not being able to eat just drink water and coffees.
Your mouth dry, your pulse racing... Trying lots of clothes until you
KNOW you look the best today. All that, you know? It's really enough to
build stress and a huge blood pressure. And then finally in the
airport, counting the hours: I will see you in less than 5.
Then 4; then 3, and so on. And when you check-in for your last plane,
then it really goes crazy: reading magazines but not being able
to focus on them. But this is always better than the leaving point which
involves too many tears.

So here I am, in the line. I can claim my baggage in 10
minutes. The New York or Vienna flight is always landing before mine.
I just hope they haven't lost my luggage this time!

"Hello..." I smile, giving my passport to the guy in front
of me. I could say it in (language specified) now but I don't want to show them that I speak too
much of it so I can avoid the crappy questions.

"Coming from?..."
Why do you always ask that? Can't you see the stamps in my
passport?

"...Cape Town..." The guy nods, checks my picture, my face.
I smile sweetly. Then he smiles back and I have a new 'stamp'.

"Thank you..." I murmur and, grabbing my hand baggage,I
head out.

It didn't take long for my blue baggage to come. I'm happy
I bought one with wheels because if not, I think I would go crazy
carrying it. Always 20 kilos. Not even once less or more... But
also 3 months of staying outside of your country requires lots of
clothes.

Heading for the sliding door, I get to look outside. I can't
see your face but I know you are there, somewhere among all those
people. The terminal is kind of small comparing to the one in *location deleted*
but I like it better this way. I read the signs "Declare and Nothing
to Declare. I don't have anything worthy with me except for my cell
phone, which isn't much anyway. The guys don't ask anything. I look
too innocent to carry bad things with me.

Finally outside! Where are you?... And while I turn my head
around in all directions, I realize you are standing right in front
of me, smiling... Oh, you are so cute! I get to hear yor voice next
to me again, the sexiest voice in the world.

"Babyyyyyyyy!!!" - I jump kissing you.
"Hey little baby," you welcome me in your arms. One kiss... Two
kisses... You want to take my luggage and get out of that crowd but I
won't let you. "More more more!..." - I ask, not getting enough of your
lips. You chuckle and give me some more soft kisses. "Ok, let's go,"
you whisper in my ear. "Cab or bus," I ask, knowing that a taxi would
be my favorite right now. "Cab," you grin. I'm already playful,
jumping around you.

The taxi driver is indeed waiting for us: some young guy who
doesn't understand English hopefully. I'm getting inside the car, waiting for you
to place my luggage in the trunk. I'm smiling at myself. Finally here,
finally seeing the city again. I do love this place! I'm always happy here.

Turning my head I see you getting on. Then the doors close and
here we go. Home sweet home! Bet your room is clean, isn't it, baby?
Lucky for me to come and make it a mess again! The image outside this cab
doesn't interest me. Only you can have my full attention now. Hands in
hands - you smile at me and carress my face. I kiss your palm.

"How was the flight?" - you ask - always the first question
when we meet. I answer by rolling my eyes. Laughing, you drag me closer
so I'm almost lying down now. Then - "how are your parents, how is your
cousin, how was Cape Town when you left, are you SURE you are done with
your exams, have you been sick lately?". I give half-hearted answers to these
questions: they are not my main concern right now. Your
fingers run through my hair and suddenly I feel you tightening the grip.
This means only one thing - we won't unpack tonight, I guess!

"So have you been a good girl?" Hiding my face in your chest and
blushing furiously, I nod.
"Uhmmmm..." I can't say much. The driver is intimidating me...
and I know from previous experience that you won't miss the occasion to
turn me on right there, knowing how embarassing it is for me. As a matter
of fact, it's always a question of who is faster in turning the other one
on. If you weren't the first one to try and do it, then I would be the
one starting it. Who's controlling who in this cab? This time it is your
turn.

You're pushing my chin up with your forefinger forcing me to look
into your eyes.

"Are you sure?" Oops! I missed a heart beat! Boom boom boom - my
heart against the ribs. Your eyebrows raised, your eyes into my eyes, your
little incredulous smile, the whole attitude makes my face flush again. I
open my mouth but no sound comesg out. Mind racing, I turn my eyes on
the landscape outside, knowing full well that your gaze won't help me give
the right answer.

"Ummm...", I try, "I... I mean... I was MOSTLY a good girl.. you
know."

"Mhm..." You don't fall for it. "Well... " I come back
trying to convince you, "Well, I was good 99% of the time..." Your face
shows me that you still don't believe me...

"Maybe 90 per cent of the time?" I grin a bit amused.
"Try again," you suggest, hand pulling my hair a bit harder.
"Ok ok... " I give up. "I was good... less than 90%. 89??"
I can't help myself and I start chuckling. You're just watching me.
"I hope you won't lose your humor when we get home," you pass it to
me sweetly, big smile on your face. As suddenly as I started laughing, I stop.
Puzzled by your remark I look at you: "Ummm... why?"

Three loving taps on my thigh give me the answer:
"You will see why, baby... You will see!"

OK. You are cooking something it seems. The back seat is not
comfortable anymore. I wriggle a bit and get closer to you.

"I've been a good girl... Really... "
"Well... What do I know? Except for the skipped classes and
the huge phone bill?..." I catch you grinning. "Or the teasing on the
phone when I was on guard... knowing full well that I can't get you
back... " I suddenly frown and pout. "Pretty impressive list, huh?"

I raise my head and look at you; you turn your face towards me,
still smiling. I'm trying to understand if you are serious or if this is
just teasing.
"Rings a bell?" - you query.
"More or less..." - I sigh in reply.
With the corner of my eye I'm looking outside again, pondering the next idea that popped into my mind. "Umm," I start, while you play gently on my cheeks. "What iiiiiiiiiif...What'f I promise never to do it again?" I'm crossing my fingers behind my back. I see you shaking your head and laughing, as if this was my best joke ever.

"I heard this promise before. I hear it each time your phone
bill comes and then, after you pay it, you call again or stay online all
day long... And then you call me very upset - "oh, baaaaabyyyyy... my bill
came... what am i gonna dooo? fucking bill and fucking phone and fuck
this and fuck that"..."
I whine and slap you softly. I couldn't help myself. I just
hate it when you immitate me. I hate it. And you know that. "There!" -
I declare on such a tone as if I won the big war.

Your eyes widen, then your face darkens.
"Bad girl! You'll get your punishment for this when you get
home, don't worry! Brat!" Sulking and protesting, I hide my face in
your lap.

"Are you gonna be a good girl and obey me, little one?"
"No!"
"Well then," you go on, "I will put you over my lap and spank your
ass until you will." I groan.

My face burns with shame, and I pray to all Gods that the driver
doesn't understand English. "Ok ok.. I will!" - I give in, very scared that
you might actually go on explaining everything in front of him.

"And are you gonna be a very good little girl, young lady?"

Murmuring and trying to hide lower - if only I could get under
the back seat! - I reply in a very soft voice: "Yes..."

"Yes WHAT?" The game started, I think for myself and my mind
starts racing, looking for a way out, trying to demonstrate that I can
be good. Scared like never before, anticipation killing me, I close
my eyes.
"Yes, Sir", the soft answer comes. I'm nervous.

"I couldn't hear that... " - you tease, pushing me to face the same
shame again.
Trembling, I grab your t-shirt in my fist. You feel my arousal,
my embarassment, and I think this turns you on. You have total control
over me, over my mind or my body. I finally manage to speak up:
"Yes, Sir!"
I'm sure I missed a smile there...

"That's my good girl! I won't have to spank you for this at least,
little one. But we have some unfinished business to take care of... Your nice bottom and I will have a little conversation."

The car is driving fast. I finally sit up and look to check
where we are. 10 minutes left. There are more knots in my stomach now.
Twisting on my seat, I stare at you. Your demeanour should give me clues
about your next plans. Do you still want to punish me? Rubbing my hands, I
realize how wet they got. The closer we get to the house, the stronger my
fear grows. I smirk. You smile, carressing my face with your fingers.

"What... what if I will be very good? Very VERY good? Are you still
gonna spank me?"

You nod. I panic even more. I need to find the way out NOW, before
we get home!

"What... what if... ummm... I promise never to do anything bad
again? I mean it! I can promise that! I will be very good!"

I feel the eyes of the driver fixing me. He's probably puzzled by
my whines, by the tone of my voice, by my mimic.

"I don't think that a promise will help you now, baby..." You tap
my hand comforting me. Anyway, there's nothing else I could promise.
The only thing I can do is beg. And I do. Then I switch to impressing you
with my miserable face. I fail. I finally resume to being silent.

"First I'm gonna bathe you and wash you very nicely..." - you start. "Then, I'll put your baby pijamas on and take you to the room.
I'll put you nicely on my lap, lower your panties and spank you with my
hand until I make sure you are going to obey."

I smirk one more time... Corners of my mouth are coming down, tears
are gathering into my eyes. "Please, you don't have to spank me for thaaaat...
I will be goooood!"
"We will see!... And you'd
better behave. If you hesitate for one second, I'll spank you again with
my belt! If you misbehave or back talk... or if you smirk, you will
get a double dose with the strap. And when I am done with you, you will
never think about talking for hours on the phone or using the net or
skipping school or teasing me again... Is that clear, little girl?" With
my eyes cast down and a huge knot in my throat I finally manage to mutter:

"Yes, Sir..." - I choke.

You stroke my hair and kiss my palm, my lips and my forehead.
"We're home," you announce, while I dive deeper into my seat.

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.

-------------------------

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.


----------------------------------------------------------------------


"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~

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...

Stupid Forum, Stupid Spanking

So I was brain-washed and tired enough to call his forum 'stupid'.

It started from Jules' (my best friend's) statement that she hadn't had time to read a book for her own pleasure for almost two years. She was enjoying one now. At this remark, Jack thought he'd put his two cents in: "Like me. I haven't read a novel for more than a year..."

"But that's not because you're too busy, hon; it's because you spend all day on your stupid forum," I concluded dutifully.

It wasn't a pissed off remark. It was a statement. But who cares what it was since I got spanked for it? And I laughed my ass off while he hauled me by the hand, turned me around, and went on swatting my bum mercilessly. And all I did was wriggle my bum and laugh my ass off.

"Stupid forum? I show you stupid forum!"

Ha! He showed me a good time, that's all.

Peace!

Spanking Vids are Healthy Choices

Let me thank everyone who took the time to post comments on my site, especially since I've been gone. Guys, even though I don't have time to reply, I do check each and every one of those comments. Ok, not every day like I used to, but in bulks. :) And I enjoy them. So thank you guys! :)

Tigger, Lessa, Spice - love you girls! You should know that! And there is Paul who is always nice and who always passes by. Thanks mate! :) And all those people whose blogs are listed on my site, with special preferancies - obviously, since we are human... Thank you! :) And those ones whom I do not know normally or didn't get the chance to chat with but whose comments are so sweet to read. So, guys, people, dear friends and posters and lurkers, I love you and thank you for your patience.

Today I am back with a fresh account. I will post because my brain is too mixed up from my exam to be able to do other stuff. hehe

I donwloaded things that I needed for school and, since I was at it, I typed in 'spanking'. I got 69 clips zipped. 69 is a lucky number. hehe Mostly caning. So when I woke up, Jack announced me that my download was complete. "Mostly caning," he said watching, "but the girls are pretty." These aren't the best clips - certainly not better than those of PunishedBrats, but they are new vids, you see? We watched together a couple and he was quite excited about them. Then... the procedure: draw the curtains, search for God knows what in the drawers - turned out to be the brush, - a fast shower, and spanking over some matresses we have been carrying around since we needed them last. The matresses, resting against the wall, are as tall as a table, and really nice and soft.

He really spanked. Like a professional. hehe Hand and hairbrush. He stopped to caress my butt with the hairbrush - it's the first time he was doing it. It was... it was like a first spanking for me from many points of view. It felt good because he was also extremely horny at this point. He positioned and re-positioned me, used his smart comments to make me feel more vulnerable. He was damn good! And I know I say this each time - but he really was at his peak this morning.

Then we had sex. Over the edge of the matresses, with my hands on the bed, with my hands on the floor, on the chair, back on the matress, back to the bed... I was swimming in my own juices. I can't believe he made me feel so great on the day of my exam, and at a time when my brain is filled with so much shit that I cannot enjoy life anymore. :) He's good. :)

That's all for now, folks. Holiday starts next Thursday but it's not a real holiday for me. So, anyway, keep in touch. hehe

"Don't worry, you will get spanked!"

"Don't worry, you will get spanked!"

I heard those words today, as I was waking up from my nap. I wasn't quite sure why Jack was announcing a spanking. Maybe because I had a hard day and he wanted to do something nice for me; maybe because my behavior was threatening to become thunderous.

I was yawning and grunting, in a general state of mental disconfort.

"Ok, you're getting spanked."
"What? I don't want..."
He was already on my bed, kneeling, pulling me over his knees.
"Once again it's not about you wanting. You don't get to make the rules around here. I do. Period. And you get to write about it too!"



PJs, panties down. And a slap that seemed to crush, not land, on my bottom. He reached ten slaps extremely fast. I had problems once more with keeping my hands away from my bottom, simply because it hurted a bit too much.


"How many times do I have to tell you about those hands?" Spanks. Grabbing my hands, bringing them to the front: "Haven't you learnt anything yet?" More spanks. "Put your hands over your head."
My mumbles.
"Put your hands over your head or I'll spank you to tears! I'm not kidding!"

That's a bit scary. Such comments rarely escape Jack's mouth so when they do, better watch out. It was in my best interest to obey.

"I'm gonna make you do corner time. You need it." And carried on with his spanking.

But you can't expect me to behave for long, not with that kind of pain. So Jack had to grab my hands again and place them over my head, while I was sliding from bed, head down.

"You're falling... get up!" My butt, dragged over his knees again, had another rendez-vous with his hand. I kicked so much that he even had to trap my legs. But two minutes later, and another twenty swats into the spanking, I was again head down on the floor.

"You want to be spanked like this?" *very hard slaps* "Up. Get back on the bed!" He adjusted my position again, including my hands on top of my head. I argued, commented, protested...

"Oh, that's it, young lady! That's it! You've earned yourself a really hard spanking! Grumbling, hm?" He took out his belt, grabbed my hands and tied together my sleeves aga'n, and started his job, building a fast fire in my butt. I think I have some marks, because I felt that damn belt overlap a few good times in the same spot. And yet, I still felt bratty. He had to go on with his hand again for another five minutes or so, until I managed to answer his questions without a grumble.

This was followed by blow job and sex and more spanking.

Funny enough, I still have energy.

Jack has already a plan on his next post this weekend. It's gonna be a surprise. hehe