A few weeks later, things seemed to be going well for Ashley. I ran into her a few times having a smoke outside the building, enjoying the warming weather, and she seemed in good spirits. She was busy with end of term exams coming up before summer, and her drumming seemed to be taking off. Each time that I ran into her, she had another gig about which to tell me. Our visits at each other’s apartments became fewer and shorter during that time, but as much as I enjoyed spending time with her, I didn’t mind. I was proud that she was putting her time into her education and her talent, and if that meant less time with her upstairs neighbor, that was perfectly understandable and ok. We never did discuss her discipline that first night. She didn’t bring it up, although I noticed that she seemed to look at me in a different way now and then, and was eager to share how well she was doing keeping up with her work. Given that, I saw no need to bring it up either. As far as I was concerned, mission accomplished.
One Thursday evening, while working through some meditation, my solitude was broken by the sound of Ashley’s familiar knock. I opened up and invited her in. She told me that she couldn’t stay – studying to be done – but bouncing on the balls of her feet in her flip flops, excitedly asked if I’d like to come out and see her play with a new band the next night. I was surprised and flattered; she had never invited me out before, and I had assumed that she didn’t consider me “cool” enough to hang out in whatever was her scene. (I also figured that she probably was right.) “Sure – I’d love to,” I said.
“Great! I’ll text you the name of the place and put your name on the list so that you can get right in. Maybe you’ll actually have a drink with me after?” she asked, making puppy dog eyes and then just as quickly grinning.
“Ok, ok,” I laughed.
“Awesome – see you tomorrow!” She bounced away, waving over her shoulder as she turned the corner to the stairs.
The next night, I spent an embarrassing amount of time figuring out what to wear. Ashley had played me a few clips of her drumming – she was great – but I realized that I didn’t know anything about this new band and what kind of music they played. I finally decided that jeans and a tee shirt couldn’t be wrong anywhere. If something fancier was required, then I’d just have to catch the next show.
When I stepped out of the Uber just down the street from the club, it immediately was clear that I’d be fine; at least my jeans weren’t ripped from top to bottom like everyone standing around the door to the place. I headed straight for the door, gave the enormous bouncer my name, and he glanced at a list and waved me in. Apparently my face was too grizzled to require age identification.
Once inside, it was obvious to me from the lighting and the set up that whatever Ashley’s new band was playing, it was heavy. The restless energy in the gathering crowd told the same story. I – politely, sort of – pushed my way to the bar and ordered a shot and a beer… might as well get in the mood. Realizing that I had good real estate there, I tipped the bartended with a twenty and turned to face the stage, leaning my back against the bar.
As the crowd continued to push inside and the bar began to fill in, I was jostled a bit, but nothing untoward. Folks wanted drinks, and I didn’t blame them. Nearly everyone said “excuse me” or the like, except for one greasy looking guy who shoved his way in and said, without looking at me, “You could fucking move.” I turned to face him and pushed his shoulder hard, forcing him face-to-face with me.
“You could fuck off.”
“Yeah ok, calm down, bro.” How quickly an asshole wants to deescalate when he runs into someone willing to be a bigger asshole – it never fails.
“I’m not your bro, bitch. Get your drink and move along.”
He looked at me for another second, thought better of whatever he was considering, and turned to the bar. A minute later, drink in hand, he moved off through the crowd, shooting a pissy look back at me. Whatever.
The lights faded even further then, and the band began to take the stage, first a bassist who headed to the microphone, then the guitarist, and finally Ashley, looking serious and wired, taking her place behind the drumkit. So they were a three piece… I felt myself getting excited now, wondering just how much noise they could make. I found out quickly, as Ashley hit a huge opening salvo and the bassist/vocalist let out a howl. It was a good minute or two before I, or anyone else in the place, caught a breath, and then the place exploded, finally catching up to the band’s energy. The sound was dark, incredibly heavy southern sludge; I had had no idea that Ashley was into this stuff, but she clearly hadn’t picked it up yesterday, as she was locked in, her transitions and fills driving the songs forward as much as the riffs and vocals.
A half dozen songs in, I was having an awesome time. I’d turned back for a new cold one twice since the first beer, and the alcohol was barely affecting me as I was sweating it right back out. The band themselves were drenched in sweat, the guitarist and bassist swigging from bottles of whiskey between songs, Ashley with a water bottle. I wondered what else might be in it, until she poured it over her head and shook her hair out, eyes blazing in an ecstatic moment.
Before I knew it, the set was over and the band took a bow together, the bassist and guitarist taking final swigs of whiskey as they stood, and the guitarist pouring a shot into Ashley’s waiting mouth. She took down half of it, the other half spilling as she grimaced and laughed. I waited by the bar, enjoying my little piece of real estate and grabbing another drink, as the band spoke with members of the crowd and took pictures. Finally, a manager gave the signal that the next act would need to warm up, and Ashley and her bandmates began breaking down their equipment. As she worked, she glanced toward the bar, saw me, and waved with a huge smile. I gave her one right back.
Once everything was packed up, the band disappeared into the back, and I waited patiently. After fifteen or so minutes, as the members of the next act began their set up, Ashley and the guitarist came out, with a third person who I first assumed was the bassist but then realized, to my irritation, was the fucker who’d tried to start with me at the bar earlier. As they moved toward me, the guitarist and his apparent friend stopped a bit short, Ashley coming in for a quick hug. I raised my chin to the guitarist – “You all were incredible tonight,” I told him, and he nodded and raised a fist with a smile, his friend looking sour.
“You really liked it?” Ashley asked. “I wasn’t sure if this was really your thing.”
I laughed. “It’s very much my thing. I guess we haven’t spent nearly enough time talking music. Anyway… you were amazing. I’m super proud to know a legit rock star.”
She beamed, but then her face became tentative. “I’m so, so glad you came. The only thing is… the guys wanna head to another late night spot and kinda decompress from the show… I know I said we’d hang out, but I… I sorta need to hang with them and build the relationship. Would you hate me if we rain checked our drink?”
I was surprised to find that I was actually disappointed, but I made sure not to let it show. It was important that Ashley get close with her bandmates, far more so than having a drink with her neighbor. “No problem at all,” I said. “I’ve been putting you off for so long, I think it’s fair that you get to put me off one more night.”
“Promise you’ll still have one with me?” she asked, giving me those puppy eyes.
“Yes, I swear. Go have fun and hit me up when you’re free. Maybe I’ll take you for a few drinks after your finals.”
“A few drinks now? I’ll remember you said that.”
I laughed and squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll deny it. Go ahead now, have a great night. I’ll see you soon.”
She gave her little bounce and then joined the guitarist and his friend. The guitarist gave me a parting horns, making me grin, but his friend looked back at my with a smirk. I gave him my hard stare, thinking how I’d like one shot at his rat face, and then they were gone out the back. I gave the bartended a last tip on top of the others that I’d left, and thanked him for letting me hang out up there.
Outside, the cool night air felt great. I kept the window down in the back of the Uber heading home, the several drinks and the fading endorphins from the show finally combining to have me ready for some quality sleep. Back at my apartment, I didn’t get two steps in the door before I was shedding clothes and heading for the shower. Not ten minutes later I was passed out…
…until I woke with a start, at an insistent banging a few feet from my head. I flailed at the sound, my hand closing on my phone, vibrating on the night table. “Fuuuuuck…” I moaned, propping myself up. It was 3:30am… and it was Ashley. I tried, hopefully successfully, to shake off any aggravation and put a hint of humor in my voice.
I definitely didn’t get any humor in return. Ashley’s voice sounded pitiful and scared.
“…. It’s Ashley… I’m really sorry… did I wake you up?”
“Yes, but don’t be sorry – tell me what’s up.”
“… I’m… I’m outside… I left. Everything got fucked up and I just left.”
“Outside our building?”
“No… outside the place we went after. I’m… I’m a block away on this side street… maybe an alley? I dunno…”
“I don’t know what you’re doing in an alley, but it sounds like you need to come home right now, and then we can talk about whatever happened.”
“I can’t… I only brought out cash tonight and I don’t have any more…”
“I was gonna try to tell a cab that I could pay when I got home… but I’m scared.”
“Why would you need to pay a cab. Can’t you get an Uber?”
“Um… no… that credit card is maxed out.”
I looked up at the ceiling, perhaps for a little divine intervention.
“Ashley, do you need me to come get you?”
“… I didn’t wanna ask… but if you could… I’m so sorry. This isn’t me… I’ll explain. I just wanna go home.”
“I can send an Uber for you.”
“I know… I’m really really sorry… but could you just come? This neighborhood is really shit and I’m even scared of getting into an Uber alone.”
Still keeping my aggravation in check, now with an absolutely mighty effort, I told her to text me the name of the place, that I’d be there as soon as I could, and that she should call 911 immediately if anyone accosted her. I rolled out of bed, pulled on sweats, a tee shirt, and sneakers, and headed downstairs to grab the Uber.
The drive was well over a half hour, to an area of the city that I’d never been to before. It was a typical run down, formerly industrial area, not the worst I’d ever seen, but I could understand why Ashley was worried about being alone on the street. I texted her as we approached, finally pulling up in front of a dive bar that must have been there forever, dilapidated and with all of its lights broken or out. If not for the little light escaping a front window off to the side of the door, I’d never have thought that the place was open.
Ashley came walking quickly from the next side street (and she was right – alley was probably a more accurate word), hugging herself and looking at the ground and then glancing up at me. Just as she reached me, the door to the bar swung open: it was the prick from the club earlier. He understandably seemed surprised to see me, but quickly lapsed into what must have been his trademark smirk. He stuck his chin out at Ashley: “Where’d you run off to, sweetheart? I scare you?” He reached his hand toward her face as he said it, and my reaction was instantaneous. I punched him in the solar plexus, whipping the blow around with my hips before he could touch her. He collapsed with an “Ooooof” as he lost his air. Ashley’s eyes went wide, and with a hand on her back I turned and steered her to the car. “Let’s go,” I said. “He’ll be fine when he can breathe again.”
The ride home was silent. I of course was curious as to what on earth had occurred after Ashley had left the club, but I felt that it was none of the Uber driver’s business. By the time we got back to our building and had climbed the stairs as far as Ashley’s floor, I had shaken off all vestiges of sleep. “Do you want to tell me what happened now or in the morning?”
“I guess now? You can come in?”
“Sure – I’m up now.”
She let us into her apartment, poured waters for both of us, and went to change out of her rock star clothes. A minute later she reappeared, barefoot in a pair of sleep shorts and tee shirt, and curled up on the couch, legs tucked under her.
“So you left the club to go to some late night spot… that place was the spot, in the middle of nowhere?”
“Um… yeah. I guess Bill’s friend likes it cause he goes there a lot and can do whatever?”
“Oh… the guitar player. And the bassist is Jeff. I dunno if they really wanted to go there either, except cause Bill’s friend wanted to.”
“And why is Bill’s friend’s opinion so important?”
“Cause he’s their dea…um…”
I frowned. “Because he’s their dealer, you were going to say?”
She scrunched up a bit tighter. “Well…yeah. I guess they wanted to party a little so we kinda had to go where he wanted?”
“And what exactly is he dealing?”
“Uhh… stuff? Like different things?”
It now was nearly 4:30am and, although I’d woken up, my patience was not exactly at its peak.
“Ashley, I asked what exactly he was dealing. That was not an exact answer.”
“…Ok… so, the guys wanted coke. And he had pills that he said were ecstasy?”
“And did you take any of it?”
She blushed now, hugging herself even tighter still. “Um… yeah. I did a little coke… and I took a pill…” And then the words coming faster: “… and the pill I don’t think was ecstasy cause I felt super fucked up and not good. Like sick. And that guy, Clay, he got like all on me while I was trying to deal with it.”
Now I felt my temperature really rising. “All on you?”
“He was trying to kinda hit on me, but like not nicely… he said I was hot and… uh… things he’d like to do, and he kept putting his hand on my leg and I kept moving it and he wouldn’t stop and I thought I was gonna puke so I ran outside.”
“And neither of your bandmates did a goddamn thing about any of this?”
“I mean…no… I don’t think they meant it… they were just fucked up.”
I was steaming now, but trying to temper myself, given that I’d certainly been in situations in the past when I was fucked up and might not have noticed a freight train going by. I just felt so protective of Ashley that the whole situation infuriated me. I was becoming more unhappy with her own behavior by the second as well.
“What did you think of Clay when you first met him?” I asked.
“That he was a piece of shit.”
“I had the pleasure of meeting him earlier this evening myself, by the bar. Confirmed: he’s a piece of shit. But let me get this straight – you went to this place in the middle of nowhere, with said piece of shit, and drank and did several kinds of drugs not only with him, but that you got from him? That could’ve been anything for all you knew?”
Her blush deepened now, and she seemed to push back further into the couch, consciously or not hiding her bottom. Smart girl, I thought.
“I guess… yeah. I mean I dunno… the guys thought it was safe?”
“Come on, Ashley, do I have to ask what you’d do if the guys jumped off a bridge? Really? The question is whether you thought it was a safe situation, and I’m guessing you knew damn well that it wasn’t.”
Looking down now: “Yeah…”
“You’ve got so many good things happening for you right now – you’re doing great in school and your drumming is taking off. I was honestly blown away by the show tonight. You were so good. Do you want to risk all of this for one bad decision?”
“No… I just… I guess I just wasn’t thinking.”
“I know you weren’t,” I said, sternly, and after a pause: “Is there something that would help you remember to make a better decision if you end up in a similar situation?”
I rather expected that she’d known where this was going for awhile, and yet still her eyes widened and her blush spread.
“And what is that?”
She struggled for a few moments, squirming in place, before finally admitting it: “If.. you know… if, um… you gave me a spanking,” the last word barely whispered. And then nearly wanting to take it back, “But do you have to do it now?”
“You do need to be punished, and I am going to give you a spanking, and one that you won’t forget. We can take care of it tomorrow after you’ve had some sleep.” I let that sit a moment, and then: “However, I am going to warm your bottom a bit right now, so that you’ll have something to think about when you head to bed in a minute.” I moved toward the center of the couch. “Please come here and over my lap.”
“We both need to get to sleep. Now, young lady.”
She slowly uncurled herself, coming to her knees and then forward, draping herself over my lap, face down with her bottom raised over my knee. I slipped my fingers into the waistband of her shorts and gently told her to raise her hips. After a moment’s hesitation, she did, and I slid her shorts down to her knees. “Again,” I said as gently, and again, after a slightly longer hesitation, she lifted her hips, burying her face in the cushion in embarrassment at what was about to happen. I slipped her panties down to meet her shorts at her knees and rested my hand on her pale bare bottom. After giving her a few seconds to settle, I raised my hand and spanked her firmly across the lower center of her behind. She gave a little cry, and over the next minute continued to squeal and cry out as I spanked her hard, in a fast, steady rhythm, right across that same spot, stinging both of her tender cheeks and swiftly reddening them. After a minute, her shoulders trembling as she began to cry, I moved down to her sit spots, from side to side, my palm burning as I spent another minute setting them on fire, and then finished the brief bedtime spanking with a dozen extra stinging swats. The spanking over then, I softly rubbed her lower back as she calmed herself, sniffling while her hips pushed against my knee, trying to relieve the heat.
Finally, she lie still, and I patted her red bottom. “Time for bed, little girl.”
She rose slowly, her face pink and tear streaked, and threw her arms around me tight for a long moment. After a last back rub, she finally stood and replaced her panties and shorts, wincing as they settled over her hot rear end, and then seemed to pause uncertainly.
“Are you ok, Ashley?”
“Um…. yeah… I just…” Looking down now: “… I’m just really embarrassed that you gave me a spanking.”
“I’m sure you are. A bare bottom spanking is a punishment for a young girl who’s misbehaved, but you earned it.”
“It really is time for bed now. When you wake tomorrow, you can shower up and relax a bit, and when you’re ready I expect that you’ll call me. I’ll be in the gym early, but then around late morning and early afternoon.”
“Ok…” she whispered, and then, “My hiney really hurts. I’m sorry…”
“I know you are, but unfortunately your bottom is going to be much more sore after your real lesson tomorrow. Go to bed now.”
I stood, hugged her, and let myself out, glancing back to see her watching me, wiping her last tears with one hand and rubbing her behind with the other.
* * *
I woke up later than I intended the next day, for obvious reasons given the events of the night before (or, more accurately, the very early morning), which got me in the gym later than intended, and home even later. I had kept an eye on my phone, and hadn’t missed anything from Ashley, which wasn’t entirely surprising, but as the day moved into early afternoon I began to wonder. I resisted calling her myself – I wanted her to reaffirm her own decision to accept old-fashioned discipline when it was needed. Finally, at nearly 2:00pm, my phone rang.
I picked up: “A little late for good morning, huh?”
“Ummm… yeah.” Silence then.
“Have you showered and gotten settled?”
“Yeah, I’m just… kinda sitting? I, uh… don’t feel so good?”
“I’m not surprised, being that we have no real idea what you took last night and went to bed so late. I’m sure you’ll be fine, especially after a day of eating and hydrating.”
“I dunno… um, maybe you could come by… like not this afternoon?” I let that sit, and she nervously kept talking. “It’s just, I mean… I’m really sorry and I think I’m really sick so maybe I learned my lesson last night?”
I didn’t know whether to laugh or be angry. She’d done a very unsafe thing that I suspected she’d done before, and had personally inconvenienced me getting her out of it at 3:30 in the morning. I knew that the latter issue wasn’t really relevant, but it had to count for something, didn’t it? On the other hand, it was such a transparent, little girl’s attempt at testing me and maybe avoiding being punished that I couldn’t help but smile. I quickly settled on how to handle the situation: I would make very clear that testing me when she’d misbehaved was a very bad idea. If she resisted, that was ok – in that case, it might be that she wasn’t really accepting of discipline in the way in which she’d thought. I’d still be her friend and biggest supporter in all of the other ways that I could be.
“Ashley, I’m going to come down now. If you’re really sick, I won’t stay long.” I waited for her to argue, but after a moment she said, “Ok…” in a small voice. “I’ll see you in a few minutes,” I said, and hung up. I headed into my bedroom and then my bathroom, picking up the items that I’d need along the way, stepped into a pair of slip-ons, and let myself out and down to Ashley’s apartment. I knocked, heard her hesitantly call, “It’s open…,” and stepped inside. She was curled up on the couch in the same spot that she’d been in the night before until I’d had her come over my lap, in a short nightgown, legs and feet bare, her hair up and wet from the shower. She looked… beautiful, and I had to catch myself and hold my stern face and bearing. I sat down on the coffee table across from her, my gaze piercing her, saying nothing for a moment while she took in the belt in my left hand, and watching her eyes widen and her face pale as she realized what I held in my right.
“Noooo… please noooo…” she whined. However, she stayed put, a deer in the headlights perhaps, but also seeming to actively let go of any control of the situation just by her protest coming with a “please.”
“Young lady, I told you that if you really were sick, I wouldn’t stay long, and if that’s the case I won’t, but we’re going to find out.” She wrapped her arms around herself, her toes curling, as I moved to the couch, setting the thermometer and vasoline down beside me. “Over my knee.”
“Please I don’t wanna…. ok I’m not sick! I know I was bad and you can spank me really hard….” Her eyes welled up with tears.
“I’m sorry, but it’s too late for that. I am going to give you a long, hard spanking, but I may or may not do it right now. You said that you were sick earlier, and even though you’re now claiming otherwise, we’re going to make sure. I won’t spank you if you’re ill. Now bring yourself over my knee – every second that you don’t cooperate is going to mean an even more sore bottom when you get your spanking, whether now or later.”
Blushing now from her forehead down to her chest, mortified and with tears starting to fall, she slowly moved forward, and I firmly but carefully drew her into position. “This will be over soon. Be a good girl and cooperate – raise up, please.” She moaned but complied, and I took her nightgown up to just under her breasts, folding it over. “Again, please.” She drummed her feet on the couch and squeezed her fists, a small tantrum, and I drew her tiny panties down to her knees. The color from her bedtime spanking had faded, other than just a bit of pink over her sit spots where I’d given her the extra stinging swats.
As she lay trembling, scrunching her feet and hiding her face with her hands and pushing it into the cushion, I removed the top from the vasoline, dipped two fingers in, and took a generous amount. With my other hand, I gently spread her bottom, revealing just a bit of the pink folds of her smooth pussy and her little bottom-hole. As sensitively as I could, I spread the vasoline around the delicate skin, hearing her breathing get deeper as, knowingly or not, she drew her legs in just slightly, raising her behind and further exposing herself. I coated the tip of the thermometer in vasoline as well, and, as gently and slowly as I possibly could, eased it into her bottom-hole. She gasped as the cold tip first made contact with her skin, moaning in humiliation and tensing. “Relax, honey,” I said, rubbing her back. With another moan, she did, and I finished slipping in the thermometer.
For the next minute, all was silent except for her breathing. I wish I could deny it, but I couldn’t help in that minute seeing how perfect she was, from her pretty toes and feet, to her soft legs and painfully cute bottom, to her delicate back and shoulders. I only wished that I could see her sweet face, and mentally hit myself, looking away and across the room, forcing myself to look at the wall rather than her exposed body. I just hoped that she couldn’t hear my heart beating. These thoughts were not why I was here and damn it I was going to remember that.
Finally, the minute up, and whispering to her to just relax and keep still, I gently slipped the thermometer from her bottom. “98.6, young lady. It seems you’re perfectly healthy. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
“Nooo… I’m sooorrrrrryyy…..”
“Were you lying when you said that you were sick?”
“Nooo… I mean a little… I was just really nervous and the spanking hurt so bad last night…”
“Ashley, I don’t ever want you to lie to me, even when you’re scared to tell the truth; in fact, especially when you’re scared to tell the truth. Do you understand that?”
“Yes, I’m reeeally sorry…”
“I’m your friend, honey. I’m also helping you as a big brother figure because you asked me to. We always can talk through when you need discipline. You might even talk me out of spanking you now and then,” I teased, rubbing her back. “But if I’m going to help you this way, avoiding it isn’t the way to handle it. Ok?”
“Ok… I promise I won’t again.” Whispering now, “I want you to take care of me…”
“And I promise you that I always will. Right now, though, that means giving you a very well-deserved and sound spanking. Do you agree that you earned that by doing something so unsafe last night?”
“Yes… I really am really really sorry.”
“Ok. I won’t like doing this, and you certainly won’t like getting it, but it’ll be over soon and everything will be better. Lift your feet up towards me, please.” Looking back questioningly, she did, and I slipped her panties from her knees and up her calves and over her toes and off. She reburied her face as I scolded her, “Little girls who’ve been very naughty don’t get to wear their panties when they’re getting spanked. The next time you even think of doing something that could lead to you being sick or hurt or worse, I want you to think back to this moment, all bare over my knee, about to get a spanking that’ll leave your little hiney burning for the rest of the day. Exactly what a naughty twelve-year old would get from her big brother figure if she did something dangerous.”
She felt my hand leave her bottom and pulled her arms in tight, hands still over her face, as I spanked her across the center of her behind, down low where it was most sensitive, just as I had the night before. After a few hard swats to relight the fire there, I spent several minutes spreading the heat all over her tender rear end, starting low on one side just under her sits spots and working up to the full of her behind, and then down the other side, always taking extra time to spank long and hard under the curve of her reddening cheeks, on her sit spots, and again just below. I spanked with my full, flat palm, stinging her bottom like a paddle. The result was the same: Ashley squirmed, kicked, drummed her feet, twisted, and thrust her hips, losing control of herself as her hiney was blistered and she could think of nothing other than how to escape the relentless sting, soaking the cushion with her tears as she pleaded that she would be a good girl and never be bad again.
Finally I began to slow the rhythm of the spanking, giving her extra hard and stinging swats to the underside of her bottom, each one sounding like a pistol shot as my palm scorched her already fiery skin over and over. She wailed, “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry…” but I noticed that she was squirming less now, almost imperceptibly raising her behind to accept the punishment. When her bottom was brick red and clearly very, very sore, I rested my hand, setting off a new round of sobbing and thrusting of her hips, as she tried hopelessly to relieve the burning sting, crying, “It hurts, it hurts, oh god it hurts….”
Eventually she subsided, and I scolded her: “Now you know what happens to little girls who put themselves in danger, young lady. If you ever misbehave like this again, you’ll know that you’ll be turned right over my knee with your panties down, crying your eyes out while I spank your bare bottom as red and sore as can be.” I briefly rubbed her back to comfort her, telling her that she’d taken her hand spanking well. “Please stand up now… you know what to do.”
She did know. With a sob, she slowly stood, at first shamelessly clutching her aching behind, and then padding around to the back of the couch. With another cry, she bent forward and, to my surprise, flipped her nightgown up high on her back, fully exposing herself, her flawless pink pussy in contrast with her deep red, scalded bottom. As she prepared herself, I unfurled and then doubled over my stiff belt.
“Ashley, what is about to happen to you?”
Her voice ragged, she answered now without hesitation: “You’re gonna spank me with your belt.”
“How am I going to spank you?”
“Really hard… on my bare hiney.”
“And why am I going to give you a hard whipping on your bare hiney?”
“Because… because I could’ve gotten hurt and you don’t want that.”
Hearing her say that, I felt my own eyes tear up. “Yes, that is exactly why. I never, ever want that.”
I placed my hand on her back then, both to steady her and to comfort her, and lashed the belt across the most sensitive part of her bottom. Her howl broke my heart, but I pressed on with what had to be done, scorching her raw behind with three dozen lashes, with no pause. She could only cry, her sobbing punctuated only by a wailed “I’m soooooooorrryyyyyyy!” When the whipping was finished, she continued to lay there, forgetting briefly to be ashamed as her crimson bottom throbbed, still raised high as she twisted her hips uncontrollably and drummed her feet.
Unable to bear seeing her that way, I helped her up and lifted her in my arms, carrying her to the front of the couch where I sat, her tear streaked face buried in my chest. I rubbed her back and shoulders for several long minutes until, at last, her sniffling and small sobs had nearly petered out.
“Did you learn your lesson, honey?”
“Yes…I really really did…”
“I hope that I don’t have to do that again, but you know that I will if it’s necessary.”
“I know… I hope not… Can, um, I ask you… something?”
“Of course, anything.”
“Would you…please…um… rub my hiney? You, uh… rubbed it last time… and it really helped.”
I thought that I understood. “Of course.” I lowered my hand to stroke her sore bottom, but she stood, saying, “I’ll be right back.” She disappeared into her bedroom, and reappeared a moment later to hand me a tube of soothing cream. Blushing deeply even with her already red face, without a word she laid herself over my lap, flipping up her nightgown and hiding her face. Saying nothing as well, I squeezed the cream into my hands and ran them over her beautiful, hot, and aching bottom, as gently as I could, massaging extra amounts into her sit spots and the sweet spots just at her lowest curves, where the belt had punished her most severely. We stayed like that for what seemed a long time, me gently kneading her burning skin and she hiding her face and, after awhile, softly moaning. Feeling myself stirring and worried that this could go somewhere that it shouldn’t, I gave her a last caress and lightly lowered her nightgown.
“Honey, I know this was an intense punishment and that you’re probably still tired from last night. I want you to go to your room and try to take a nap.”
She sat up, embarrassed and vulnerable. “Ok… do you forgive me?”
“Of course. I was never mad at you. I was mad at what you did, because I care about you. It’s all over now… but I do want you to leave your panties here. You can sleep on your belly with your bottom bare and think about what happened this afternoon. I know you’ll be a good girl after this. You can get up in an hour or whenever you wake after that. Ok?”
She stood, more embarrassed now, clutching the front of her short nightgown as if to be sure she was covered. “Ok… thank you… you know… for spanking me. And, um… also for, uh… soothing my hiney. It really really hurt after the spanking… it still really does but I feel better…” Blushing, “I’ll always remember all of this.” I saw her eyes mist over again and, unthinking, I squeezed her arms and kissed her forehead. “I know you will. Go to bed now, little girl.”
She padded to her bedroom door and, as she closed it, suddenly stopped, looked back at me and, to my surprise, raised her nightgown to bare her scarlet bottom and stuck her tongue out at me. She closed the door and, stunned and shaking my head, I let myself out and locked up behind me. She was really something else, but she was mine to care for, and as I headed back to my place I felt an overwhelming gratitude. I was never going to forget this day either.