The Boyfriend

by Jenny

My little sister, Jenny, tells how a good spanking caused her to realise how much she loved her childhood sweetheart.



I first ‘married' my husband when I was seven years old. He lived a few doors up and was eighteen months older than me. I was playing some game with him and his friends. As I was a tomboy I liked playing with boys and used to tag along with them. I don't know whether Tom minded but he always used to accommodate me, his ‘little Jenny', which looking back on it was sweet of him.

This particular day we were playing a game of a Western movie that Tom had seen on the TV, which involved the hero getting married in the end. Well, as the only girl, I was the obvious choice for a bride, especially as none of the other boys wanted to play a female part. There was just one point where the minister said, ‘Kiss the bride,' where I shrunk away in embarrassment. But Tom, even then, was pretty uninhibited and he kissed me on the cheek before I knew what was happening. I tell you, both our faces were red afterwards!

Tom and I remained friends for years, probably as our families were also friends. Also, because my own brother, Mark, is eight years older than I am, Tom played the part of an older brother to me. Mark was everything a much older brother could be, but Tom was my playmate. I loved him because, even as a young boy, he was always so much fun. I was much more comfortable with boys than girls, and we would play, wrestle and fight together, even when there was no-one else to play with. Then we would go off on adventures based on books we had read.

Of course, like most kids, we also got into trouble together. On one occasion we went off with a box of matches I had found in our kitchen with the purpose of making a fire to roast some marshmallows over. Unfortunately, we inadvertently set a hedge on fire and the owners had to come rushing out with pails of water to put the fire out. They told our parents and our backsides needed a few pails of water by the time our mothers had finished with us!

The friendship continued even in our teenage years, although I never thought of Tom as anything but a friend. In fact, I treated all boys as friends and never thought of dating one until I was 14. I did have a few dates but nothing serious until an event that nearly put me off boys for life.

When I was 15, I dated a lad called Darren, who was two years older than me. My parents did not approve but I think I was trying to push the limits somewhat and I started seeing Darren secretly. Better still was when he borrowed his mother's car and we went out for drives together and ended up kissing in the back seat.

It was nothing really serious until my parents went away one weekend and left my sister, Trish, who was then 20, in charge of the house. Mark had just gotten married but was living locally at the time.

Trish and I went to the church together that evening but, while she had a choir rehearsal, I was meant to go to the young people's group. However, after saying goodbye to Trish, I snuck out and met up with Darren. I had a key to the house and we were going to watch some TV together (I thought) and then I'd get back to meet Trish when her rehearsal finished.

Sadly, like many clandestine relationships, it started to go badly wrong, at least from my point of view. Darren suggested we went to my bedroom and naively I let him come in with me. We lay on the bed and started kissing and then one thing led to another. I knew it was wrong as Darren was fondling me in places I knew he shouldn't touch. I was getting quite excited but at the same time was desperate for this to finish.

Darren had almost undressed me and had actually started pulling my panties off when suddenly I heard a noise downstairs and then heavy footsteps ascending the stairs three at a time. My brother, Mark, had arrived just in time to save me from a really bad situation of my own making. I learned much later that Tom had seen me go off with Darren and, knowing what Darren was like (which I didn't), had gone into the choir rehearsal and told Trish. She had phoned Mark, who drove straight to the house. When he saw Darren's car parked there, he guessed what was happening.

I have never seen anyone look as angry as Mark did on that occasion. He was really protective towards his sisters, me in particular as the youngest. Darren looked scared stiff at the sight of him and bolted from the house, doing his pants up as he went. Mark caught him at the door and warned him if he ever came near me again, he would personally break his neck. When the lad started swearing at him, Mark simply picked him up by his collar and threw him out the house. Darren landed on the lawn and scooted as fast as he could. After all, my brother was a big guy and a pretty good football player.

Due to my brother's intervention, I kept my virginity, but the whole experience put me off dating boys for quite some time. I thought I couldn't trust them. I also had a very painful interview with my parents when they got back, especially with my dad who gave me a right good spanking (one of the few he ever gave me) and grounded me for ages. They were really hurt because I had betrayed their trust and I felt really ashamed of myself for being taken in by a boy. And, of course, my parents – especially my father – kept a very close eye on me after that.

But there was still Tom, my trusted friend. We continued to be pals and have fun together until he went away to college. My parents really liked him and Mom had even asked me why I didn't date Tom. But I thought he was just a friend I could have fun with. As I got older I used to love to tease him unmercifully, sometimes acting the flirt without realizing Tom's feelings for me.

It all came to a head, however, a few days before Tom left for college. Mom invited him round for the afternoon to say goodbye and, as Dad was out on business and my sister, Trish, was also away, Mom and I had Tom to ourselves.

That day I had gotten it on me and was really showing off in front of Tom. I was reveling in my naughtiness and trading on his good nature by teasing him and winding him up. I could see – as always – he didn't quite know how to handle this, that is, until Mom came into the room and sat with us. She quickly sized up the situation and suddenly said: “Tom, Jenny's being a brat. Put her over your knee and smack her bottom!”

Hearing this, I jumped up to run, but Tom grabbed me, turned me over his knee and gave me a couple of light smacks on my butt. Of course, I couldn't take the warning and lay over his knee giggling. “Didn't hurt!” I sang and stuck my tongue out at him as I kicked my legs playfully. Funnily enough, it really felt good just lying across this handsome guy's lap. I didn't anticipate what was coming next, however!

Clearly annoyed by my antics, Mom spoke out: “Can't you see how she's playing you up, Tom? She's just asking for a good, hard spanking. For goodness sake, give her one right now or I will!”

“That's more than you dare do!” I giggled, but my giggles turned into shrieks of anguish as Tom's hand came smacking hard down on the back of my thin sundress. I squealed and wriggled but Tom held me tightly over his knee as he dished out twelve good spanks to my rear. He told me later he'd waited a long time to do that! When he finished I got up clutching my stinging butt, red-faced with shock and rather embarrassed.

Mom laughed: “That's the way to do it!” she said approvingly. Then to me: “You've been asking for that all day, young lady!”

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry so I ran upstairs to my bedroom, no doubt leaving Mom to tell Tom how he could improve his spanking technique! She should know as she was an acknowledged expert at spanking naughty girls. My butt smarted a bit but the main effect on me was a deep fluttering in my stomach. The physical contact had made me suddenly realize just how much I fancied my friend.

I washed my face and put on some make-up. I then went down stairs where Tom was sitting on his own, reading a magazine while Mom was getting the meal ready. I looked at Tom, who hadn't seen me yet. He was my best friend, but now the awakenings of love had come to me, could our relationship be the same? Would he love me or was I just his old playmate?

There was only one way to find out. I decided to be bold and went straight and sat on his lap: “You rotter,” I said, smiling. “I didn't think you'd do that. That really stung.”

“Well, little playmate,” he grinned, “I was only obeying orders”

The closeness and warmth of his body were making me quite excited. I wanted to kiss him and sensed he was feeling the same. So I just grabbed him and kissed him long and gratefully for all the years of friendship that were now blossoming into love. Tom was a bit taken aback, I think, but he soon returned my affection. I looked at him and said, “Tom, thanks for your friendship over the years. But I think I love you.”

He chuckled and said: “I've waited for a long time for you to say that. If I'd have thought a spanking could have done it, I'd have given you one years ago!”

“Well,” I said. “I've been such an idiot not realizing my true feelings for you. Will you forgive me?”

“Forgive you?” he said. “Why not you forgive me for being such a hopeless suitor?”

We kissed again, at which point Mom walked in. We started and both blushed, but she merely mumbled, “Praise the Lord! At last!” before tactfully walking out the room.

The next three days were bliss and I saw Tom as much as I could, helping him get everything ready for college. But when at last we said farewell, I was fighting to hold back the tears. In fact, I felt so miserable and empty without him that I at last realized how much I loved him. I just moped around the house to an extent that Mom threatened to take the paddle to me if I didn't snap out of it.

Well, we solved the problem by me going to the same college and we got married as soon as Tom graduated. We just couldn't wait. We were really hard up financially for the first few years of marriage but are gradually working our way up into a better situation.

On our wedding night, to celebrate the fun we'd had together, and because Tom rather likes it when I'm naughty, I played a series of practical jokes on my husband before we went to bed. Trish had helped me plan them in anticipation. Tom was puzzled at first, wondering what was happening, but my giggling finally gave the game away, and when it finally dawned on him that his newly married wife was responsible, he chased me round the bedroom in my nightwear before putting me over his knee and administering justice while I squealed and giggled. I only hoped the walls of the hotel were soundproof!

I went to my marriage bed with a warm bottom but it seemed poetic celebration of what brought us together. And although having sex for the first time showed our inexperience (a fact that I thanked God for!) it was wonderful to feel the naked strength of my husband's manliness. As we joined together my heart quietly gave thanks. I was no longer a virgin but had saved myself for the man I loved the most.

Of course, we got better at having sex – but that first night was something special. It was fun and celebration combined. As I lay there after such a big day, I thanked God for preserving me and keeping me for this most wonderful man who had come into my life. My boyfriend had become my lover and was now my husband. What more could a girl want!

Birthday Tradition

by Chrissie

My friend, Chrissie, tells how birthday spankings have always been a tradition in her family and her husband has continued it!










After sharing the story ‘Embarrassing Moment', I thought I might tell the story behind how my husband got to giving me birthday spankings and why we have continued the tradition, because it's part of our story together.

Apparently, birthday spankings were originally based on superstition. Hundreds of years ago, spankings were given for each year of the birthday child's life. Beyond that number, a child received another spank to grow on, one to live on, one to eat on, one to be happy on, and yet another spank to get married on. At one time, it was believed to ‘soften up the body for the tomb.'

Well, I've sure had my body softened over the years! Birthday spankings were part of our family tradition. On my birthday, after the presents, I would be bent over Dad's knee while my friends smacked my panties. They were always fairly light slaps, apart from the ‘one to grow on,' which was firmer and was traditionally given by Mom. The ‘firmness' probably related to how much of a pain I'd been at my party!

We got them at school as well. My second grade teacher would give us a birthday card which all the children had written their names on, then give us a fun spanking over her knee, which the rest of us hugely enjoyed watching as we counted the smacks. When it was my birthday I remember being surprised at how much it stung and wondering whether she spanked me a bit harder than the other kids because I had been so naughty that year! When it was finished I stood rubbing my butt with a surprised look on my face as the class laughed. But it was all in good fun, even though my face was red.

The birthday spankings at my party ended when I was twelve years old. I had a spanking on my thirteenth birthday, but that was a special one over Mom's knee which marked my ‘graduation’ as a teenager. I thought that now I was a teenager I could sass her and not get spanked. She was quick to disillusion me. I had problems sitting down at my party!

I started dating Dan when I was eighteen. He was the most wonderful guy I had ever met and we quickly fell in love. The day before my nineteenth birthday, I showed him some old photos of birthday parties, including one of me getting a birthday spanking.

He jokingly asked: “Will you be getting one tomorrow, Chrissie?” to which cheekily I replied in a wild moment, “Not unless you give me one!”

I then looked into his eyes, fluttered my eyelids naughtily, and said, “I dare you!”

Rather to my surprise he said, “Right! You're on! When shall I do it?”

Of such words are traditions made! I had dared him and was far too spirited to back out. The question was when and where. I certainly didn't want it done publicly and, as we wouldn't be able to see each other until the evening, I told him to come an hour before my party was due to start. We kissed and he left.

I wondered what I'd let myself in for. Dan had never spanked me (or any other girl) before (although I'd had a few playful slaps on my butt from him), and I wondered what it would be like. And where could we go that would be private? I thought of the annex to my parents' house, a room which we now used only for storage. I secretly borrowed the key and put a chair in the middle of the room for Dan to sit on while he did the spanking.

The next day before he arrived I must admit I had butterflies. I was nervous about getting the spanking yet knew I would somehow be disappointed if Dan chickened out. It was perhaps the thrill of the unknown that attracted me. Also, I must admit I fancied going across this good looking guy’s knee! But would I be able to get through it without the embarrassment of tearing up? I thought of some of the spankings I had got from Mom over the years and was reassured! I put on a pair of jeans rather than a dress. I thought I could trust Dan but wanted some protection!

He arrived at the agreed time, looking very handsome, and kissed me. He had a present for me in the car – would I like it before or after the birthday spanking? By now I just wanted to get it over with so I told him ‘after'. I led him into the annex room, made sure all the windows were closed and locked the door.

He surveyed the room, kissed me and said, “Are you ready?”

I said nervously, “Yes!”
“Sure you don’t want out?” he asked.
“No!” I said, recovering a bit of spirit. “Make it a good one!” And I stuck my tongue out at him, with which provocation Dan led me across to the chair, sat on it, and pulled me over his knee.

“Nineteen smacks?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said sassily. “And don't forget the one to grow on!”

I giggled as I squirmed over his knee but the giggles soon turned into squeals as he started spanking me on the seat of my tight jeans. It wasn't that hard – Dan has never been cruel – but it certainly stung a bit! He counted off one to nineteen as I squealed and giggled and wriggled. I hoped no one in the house could hear what was going on, but the annex was fairly sound proof. It needed to be!

After counting nineteen Dan paused, caught his breath, and then said, “And here's the one to grow on,” and gave me the traditionally firmer slap which caused me to yell louder than ever.

He then helped me up and we kissed. He sat me on his knee but I got up quickly! My butt was very warm and rubbing it was preferable to sitting on it! I must admit, however, that I’d enjoyed the experience!

Dan then gave me a lovely present and a wonderful bunch of flowers. “Happy birthday,” he said. “I think you're a great sport. You're my dream girl and I really love you!”

At my party I felt the happiest girl in the world. I thought birthday spankings were great if they produced this reaction in a man! I rashly told Dan afterwards he could give me one every birthday from then on. Foolish mortals that we girls are!

We got engaged a short time later, although we knew we couldn't get married for about another three years due to various training commitments we had. On my next birthday we had arranged, as promised, for me to have a birthday spanking as the year before. I was again waiting in nervous but happy anticipation, so I was taken aback when Dan rang and said he'd been delayed at work and couldn't come till my birthday party was about to start. He'd given me a few fun spankings (always chastely over clothes and never too hard) since our engagement, but this was supposed to be special!

So I moaned somewhat insincerely, “But what about the birthday spanking you promised me?” Don't worry, he said, he'd thought of a way to do it during the evening.

Not with the party going on, surely! But he assured me we would keep it private.

Dan arrived as promised just before the party got going. Halfway through the evening he gave me a nudge and we slipped out for a few minutes. I didn't know where we were going but he drove me to a picnic area he knew about ten minutes away. It was dark and deserted, so I got my twentieth birthday spanking by moonlight under the stars. Very romantic! The only problem was we had to drive straight home afterwards so we wouldn't be missed. The seat in Dan's car was quite hard and he would insist on me wearing my seat belt!

My twenty-first birthday saw us back in the faithful old annex. By now I think Mom had twigged what was going on but didn't let on. She probably thought I needed it! I wore a mini-skirt (which I made sure just covered the subject when I bent over) to give Dan a thrill because I knew I could trust him. However, this proved to be a mistake as I had talked to one of my girlfriends about the birthday spankings I had had when I was younger. The girls had got together and decided, as I was 21, that they should give me one at my party just like I had years before. They held up a large, blown-up photo of me getting a birthday spanking when I was little (I realized later that Mom had been a collaborator) before leading me up to my bedroom (no boys allowed), bending me over the bed, and spanking me hard on my panties!

I should have worn my jeans. Two birthday spankings in one day! They didn't know Dan had given me one a couple of hours before, so my bottom felt it needed an ice pack afterwards. When we came out of the bedroom all the boys cheered, as they knew what had been going on. Dan was grinning all over his face at my discomfort. But he was wonderfully tender and attentive the rest of the evening and gave me a wonderful goodnight kiss in compensation.

The wonderful day we got married happened a few days before my twenty-second birthday. We had a great, romantic honeymoon and Dan arranged a special birthday evening for me as it fell on the last day of our honeymoon. In the morning (when we finally got up) Dan gave me some lovely presents, including some from the family which they'd given him to bring.

We spent the afternoon sunning ourselves by the pool in the hotel. I was wearing a rather small bikini, which obviously gave my husband ideas. I had forgotten all about the birthday spanking, but as we came back to our hotel room, Dan kissed me and said, “Happy birthday, Chrissie! Let's not forget the most important part of your birthday!”

With that he flipped me across his knee and counted out the requisite number of slaps for my birthday spanking. My bikini was still wet and it stung like anything, but I was glad afterwards we had kept the tradition alive. I mean, what great lovemaking we had before we went out! My man – as well as my bottom – was on fire!

The next year was our first anniversary (recalled in ‘Embarrassing Moment') where for the first time I wrote a message for Dan on my panties. The next year, remembering what had happened the previous year, I wrote, ‘Love me tender!' I was a little bit more tender by the time Dan finished!

I feel I can let Dan do things like this because I trust him not to take advantage. Unlike some women I hear of, I don't myself get aroused by the spanking itself, but I do love the thrill of feeling at the mercy of my man, though all the time knowing he would never really hurt me. I know he would stop anytime I wanted him to. Maybe I'll ask him when I'm 80!

I also love the pleasure Dan gets out of it and the way it really turns him on. He is a wonderful husband and deserves his fun. And although I'm on the receiving end, I find it fun, too!

So here's to future birthdays……….

Bobby's Kiss

by Katie

My friend, Katie, tells how she first fell in love with her husband when they were at school together and he was the boy next door.

The first time Bobby kissed me I was just eight years old and standing outside the senior mistress' office awaiting my fate. I had, of course, been very naughty in class all day (not unusual for me) and my teacher, a lovely lady called Mrs. Carr, had finally lost patience and sent me to Mrs. Bowden with a note detailing my misconduct. Mrs. Bowden was busy at the time so told me to wait outside her office and she'd deal with me when she'd finished what she was doing.

Of course, that wait is the longest in a child's life – it seemed like hours. And everyone who passed guessed that I was destined for one of Mrs. Bowden's ‘specials' – a good, old fashioned hand spanking she reserved for naughty little girls. In anticipation of this happy event, my knees were knocking and tears were making their way down my cheeks.

That's when Bobby came along. He was my hero. Bobby lived next door and was just a year older than me. Perhaps because our houses were away from the main street, we nearly always played with each other, and he was very protective of me. He'd just been sent by his teacher on an errand to the school office and he stopped when he saw my distress.

He asked me what was wrong and I tearfully whispered what I thought was in store for me. He put his face close to mine and said: “Well, I hope it doesn't hurt too much. I think you're too nice to spank. I'll walk you home after school.” With which he gave me a comforting kiss on the cheek.

I realized after that he took an enormous risk doing that. If anyone had seen him kissing me he'd have been sharing my fate or worse! But even at aged nine I thought him a miniature knight in shining armour, tending a damsel in distress. I was still dizzy when Mrs. Bowden called me in and didn't hear much of her fearsome lecture on how naughty I'd been – my mind was still on my hero. I did, however, wake up enough to penetrate Mrs. Bowden's office walls with my howls as she put me over her knee, pulled back my skirt and gave my poor butt the most thorough spanking it had ever had! It seemed to go on for ever. Mrs Bowden didn't need a paddle – her hand felt just like a piece of wood!

After Mrs Bowden had finished her ministrations to my rump, she let me up and sent me to stand in the corner of her office for ten minutes. This gave me a bit of time to recover, but I was still suffering so much when I went back to class that Mrs. Carr – who really was a very nice lady – felt sorry for me and leant me an old blue cushion to sit on. Even then I spent the rest of the lesson kneeling on the cushion, as I simply couldn’t bear to sit down. I was glad school was nearly over for the day.

After school, all my classmates teased me about getting spanked but there was Bobby at the school gate to rescue me from their taunts. When we got out of sight, I showed him the damage Mrs. Bowden had done to my bottom. It was flaming red and felt as if it needed the attention of the whole fire department. But Bobby is always resourceful. He went into a shop and got some ice. We found a quiet spot and I lay over his knee while he held the ice to my burning rear. I don't know who enjoyed it the most – him or me – but it all seemed very innocent at the time. He then kissed me again before we started back home.

When I got home, Mom, who'd heard from Mrs. Carr about the spanking, gave me a good telling off and sent me to bed early. Thankfully, she didn't believe in punishing me twice, as I don't think my bottom could have stood another spanking that day, even after Bobby's well intentioned ministrations! I slept on my tummy that night, dreaming of Bobby’s kisses. They were almost worth getting spanked for! I just hoped it wouldn’t be the last time he did that!

Bobby and I remained close for some years. However, as we got into our teenage years we tended to drift apart, although we remained friends and often talked on the way to school. But it took another act of real friendship on his part to bring us together when I thought he'd be ashamed of me.

I was 15 and going through a somewhat rebellious stage and had fallen in with a sullen crowd of equally rebellious schoolmates who I thought were ‘hip'. Bobby had warned me that I'd be in trouble if I associated with them but I told him he was a boring old square and told him to get lost. Looking back, I realize I had no regards for his feelings whatever – the boy who'd been my steadfast friend.

Anyway, my three ‘friends' that day decided it was time for me to learn to smoke. I was uneasy about this but peer pressure prevailed and we gathered behind a shed in the school grounds. I was nervous – smoking was something unheard of in our house – but somewhat excited at the prospect of the forbidden unknown.

My friends all lit up and I put my first cigarette to my lips – and exploded in a fit of coughing! I thought I was going to throw up. My friends told me to shut up but I couldn't help it. Unfortunately for us, my coughing and spluttering was overheard by a teacher who was passing and, seeing the smoke, came and caught us red-handed with cigarettes in our hands. Our hearts sank. We knew we would be reported to the principal, which would probably mean a paddling.

My friends were furious with me for getting them into trouble (as they saw it) and did not speak to me the rest of the day. We were told to report to the lady principal, Mrs. Kelly, during the last lesson. Mrs. Kelly was a fierce lady who had the reputation of being a ‘good paddler' by those who had experienced her painful ministrations. I was so frightened that I was in tears throughout that afternoon's school at the thought of it.

As I made my way to the dread chamber where I knew my butt would again suffer great agonies at the hands of a heartless woman, I bumped into Bobby. History was repeating itself! He asked me what was up and, feeling I hadn't a friend in the world at that moment, I tearfully confessed to my old mate. He gave me a somewhat reproachful look and said: “Well, Katie, you've been very silly and broken the rules. Now you've to take what's coming to you. But I do hope it doesn't hurt too much.”

I told him that was a forlorn hope, but he told me to be brave. Then (incredibly) he again gave me a comforting kiss on the cheek and said he'd wait for me at the school gate to see me home.

My knight in shining armour (much bigger now) had come to comfort me again in time of need! My heart was singing as I walked up the corridor, only to be brought once again down to earth as we were shown into Mrs. Kelly's office. The other girls listened to her lecture in stony silence but I was bubbling my eyes out. I just couldn't stop myself – a mixture of shame at what I'd done and fear of the consequences about to happen.

When the lady principal finally brought the paddle out, even my companions' façade crumbled and they howled like babies as she laid into them, one by one. Unfortunately, I was the last in line and had to watch this performance. When my turn came, the other girls had gone. Mrs. Kelly said what a poor choice I had made in associating with that group but I was now going to find out the hard way what it meant to mix with bad company.

I tearfully bent over the desk and squealed and shrieked as she gave me six terrific swats on the back of my thin skirt. They made Mrs. Bowden's spanking of six years before seem like fly bites! My butt felt as if was on fire as I ran, clutching it, from the office. I was glad it was the end of school, as nothing would have induced me to sit down!

My erstwhile friends had vowed to get me after school for, as they saw it, getting them spanked, but when they saw Bobby waiting for me they melted away. He was a very good athlete and they and their little gang didn't want to mess with him. I ran to him and he held me tight. I said, “Thanks for waiting, Bobby, but please mind my butt!”
He smiled faintly and said; “I don't think you'll want to show me the damage this time, will you? Shall I get you some ice?”

I told him that I thought my butt would melt the whole of Antarctica at that moment, but he bought some ice and this time I applied it myself to my butt as we walked home. I had to smile, however, through my tears; at the way history was repeating itself. This indeed, seemed like destiny.

I was more concerned, however, as to how to tell my mom before she heard from the principal I had been paddled. Bobby advised me to make a full confession to her and take what punishment was coming.

I said to him: “Thanks for being such a good friend. I'm sorry I've been so stupid. When my butt recovers from what Mrs. Kelly has done to it (and maybe what Mom is going to do as well), you can spank me yourself if you like!”

He laughed and said he might just take me up on that if I ever did anything like that again! Then we kissed and I realized how much he meant to me. I kissed him again and realized something else – I had just fallen in love with the boy next door!

Mom was very cross with me but I think my prompt and tearful confession saved me from another spanking from her. When I showed her my flaming red bottom, she said I deserved to have been punished severely, that Mrs. Kelly had saved her a job, and that she hoped I'd learned my lesson. However, she grounded me for a month for associating with the wrong people and said that any infringements of the rules she'd laid down would bring rapid retribution to my long-suffering hindquarters. She did, however, make an exception for church on Sundays and also the youth group, which I'd somewhat allowed to slide in my short-lived teenage rebellion. I realized it was her way of making an opportunity for me to get back in line.

Bobby came round that evening. He'd been working at his job at the store and came in with a bunch of flowers. I was in my dressing gown about to go to bed early (one of Mom's new rules) and sitting on three cushions, but I got up to hug him. Mom muttered something to Bobby about naughty girls not deserving flowers, but I could see she was smiling in spite of herself. She was cross with me but not cross enough deny me my moment of young love.

At youth group that week some of the other kids were stand-offish with me as they'd heard I'd been naughty, but Bobby was by my side to act as my protector. I soon got integrated back into the group and my romance with Bobby continued to grow. We were now not just best friends – we were in love and dating regularly.

Well, you can guess the rest. Bobby and I got married quite young and have had a great – though not perfect – marriage. One of the people we invited to our wedding was Mrs. Carr, my old teacher, who I'd kept up with because she didn't live very far from us. I sometimes used to go round for tea and we'd become friends.

Just before the wedding she invited Bobby and me round to wish us well. Then she gave us a parcel, to be opened when we came back from honeymoon. In it, we found, was the old blue cushion from school she'd kindly leant me years ago, with a note that said: ‘Katie, if you are as naughty for Bobby as you were for me in my class, you may be needing this!'

Bobby laughed, looked at his hand and patted my butt. “I should keep that cushion, Katie!” he said.

So I did. But of course, I've never needed it. Well, not very often!

Seeing Pink!

by Jenny

My little sister, Jenny, always was very naughty. She has carried that naughtiness into her marriage, much to the delight of her husband!


I am an incorrigible tease, as my husband, Tom, well knows (and loves). Well, this particular evening, quite early in our marriage, we were coming home from church in our old car. I was wearing a short pink dress I'd just bought and, glory be, Trish had given me a pair a pink panties that exactly matched the dress.


I knew the effect of the dress and the panties would be a great turn on for Tom so, feeling sassy that evening, I plotted just how to arouse my hubby's desire for an evening romp. The evening was warm and my legs were brown from sunbathing. I'm not usually confident about my looks (the result, perhaps, of having a very glamorous older sister) but that night I knew I looked a million dollars, at least to my husband.

I hitched up my dress a bit to get his attention and started to tease him as he was driving. After a short time I could see he wanted to attack me so I stuck my tongue out and said, “You can't get me – keep your eyes on the road!”

Tom, as he always did, rose to the bait – I could see he was trying to be stern but he couldn't help grinning. After a bit he said, “When we get home, Jenny, I'm going to put you across my knee and smack your pretty little butt!” (Just to say, this is not serious – it's pure fun and sex play.)

Having got him in this position – I mean, a big strong man who can't get at you – I couldn't resist continuing the teasing. So Tom said: “Right! That's two smacks you've got coming!” More sass – “Three smacks!” But now I was carried away. Making this big, strong, loving, slightly pompous creature mad! We'd got up to seven smacks by the time we'd got home.

When we got home, Tom went into the living room, drew up a chair and sat on it. Putting on his sternest look (he was having a job to stop himself grinning at my antics) he thundered in his deepest voice: “Come here, young lady, and bend over my knee!”

Usually teasing and naughtiness was followed by a chase round the house before retribution was given by a few fun slaps to my (often inverted) rear. However, this time I could see Tom wanted to make the spanking more ceremonial. So I decided to oblige him – just this time. I put on my cheekiest grin and strutted round the room (showing as much leg as possible) before draping myself across my husband's knee. I wiggled my behind into what I judged to be a suitable position for the spanking and waited.

As I hoped, Tom pulled what was left of my dress back and gasped in admiration at my pink-clad derriere sticking up at him. He spent some time gently stroking the pink panties and I felt a warm glow come over me. I had achieved my objective and had my man now in the full flow of desire.

However, I suddenly realized that there was a certain price my upturned backside had to pay for this attention. Seven smacks with only a thin piece of material for protection! Tom was a big guy with a hard hand – and like most young men didn't know his own strength! Why couldn't I have stopped at two? However, what was done was done, so I shut my eyes and waited for the imminent assault on my long-suffering butt.

I didn't have to wait long!

SPANK! Tom's hand came down with a resounding thwack, causing me to squeal. It was a good job the old lady at the side of us was deaf!

Spank! Spank! “Yowwwwwwwwwwww!” I yelled and instinctively put my hand across my stinging butt.

I turned my head and said very pointedly, “Owwww!”

“Did that hurt?” asked my husband, innocently.

Did that hurt? What did he think my butt was made of – asbestos? As I say, these young men don't know their own strength!

Thankfully, Tom took the hint, and after removing my hand from the target area, he completed the spanking with four more well-directed, but far less hard, smacks to my squirming posterior. I contributed to the proceedings with vocalizations like ‘Ow!' and ‘Wow!' and ‘Yow!'

He then sat me on his knee, which is a far better position for a woman to enjoy even though my bottom was tingling. We kissed passionately and deeply for I don't know how long, as he fondled me beneath the dress. Our position was probably a passable imitation of Rodin's famous statue ‘The Kiss'! The only problem was that I kept wriggling my bottom to try to keep off the spanked part!

I felt Tom's heart beating close to mine and, despite the fact my butt was now positively glowing in the aftermath of the spanking it had received, loved this big strong hunk I'd married. Then he picked me up in his arms and carried me to the bedroom. Tom loved to see me in that pink dress but it was amazing how quickly he wanted me to get it off!

What followed was hot – like my bottom! After we'd finished I looked at my bare backside in the mirror and found it was almost as pink as the panties I'd had on. But it was worth it!

Red cheeks all round!

by Chrissie

My friend Chrissie tells us about a birthday celebration that didn't go quite according to plan!

Celebrities are often asked when they are interviewed what their most embarrassing moment was. Mine happened on my 23rd birthday. As it was not long after our first wedding anniversary, my husband, Dan, and I decided to go away for a romantic weekend. We booked a small hotel in a remote place that had woodland walks nearby.

In the afternoon of my birthday the weather was great so we decided to go for a romantic walk in the woods together. I knew that a birthday spanking - 23 smacks plus 'one to grow on' - from my husband was on the agenda so I wrote the words ‘SPANK ME’ on the back of a pair of white panties which I wore under my short skirt.

We had walked about half an hour when we came to a small clearing. No-one was around (we thought!) so Dan said to me, “Time for your birthday spanking, Chrissie!” He sat down on a tree stump and pulled me across his knee. I pretended to resist but it was a feeble effort! He then pulled back my short skirt and noted the instructions I had written. He laughed and said, “Right, you little minx! I’m sure going to do as I’m told this time!”

He started spanking me – not that hard but it did sting a bit – while I squealed and wriggled. He counted out the number of smacks and had just reached 23 when he stopped and pulled me up.

I was wondering where the final ‘one to grow on’ had gone when I saw the reason for Dan’s sudden abstinence – a middle aged man had come from nowhere and was walking across the clearing near where we were. He must have been on an afternoon ramble and had been day-dreaming when he suddenly came upon us. He was obviously as embarrassed as we were, but when he saw we were only playing he smiled pleasantly before hurrying on his way.

At that moment our faces were as red as my bottom probably was. We looked at each other and then fell about laughing, wondering what the dear man could possibly have thought of us. We had thought about a romantic time in the woods, but decided that discretion was the better part of valour and went our hotel where we had a couple of sizzling sessions before morning came.

That morning we decided to go to church, as our custom was, and found a small country church not too far from the hotel. That’s where the real embarrassment started, as when the pastor came in to take the service we recognized him from the day before! He obviously recognized us, and I wondered whether we might get publicly rebuked for our behaviour in the woods, but he just smiled and nodded at us. I think at that moment that our faces were even redder than in the woods the previous day!

I didn’t hear too much of the service – I was too busy thinking how we could slip out without meeting the pastor. However, at the end of the service he stood at the door to greet people and we saw there was no escape.

Dan decided to face the music by apologizing to him for any embarrassment we had caused him the day before, but he laughed and told us that the Bible says that even the patriarch, Isaac, was caught sporting with his wife, so we young people ought to be allowed to do the same. He told us he walked in that part of the woods as it gave him a chance to think about ideas for his sermons. I don’t know whether he got any inspiration on that occasion!

Much relieved we had lunch and made ready to leave the hotel. As I was changing my clothes, I was bending over the bed to get something when Dan slapped my behind hard. I squealed and jumped up, clutching my behind, and said, “What was that for?” He said: “That was the one to grow on! Sorry I forgot when we were interrupted!” He then kissed me and we fell on the bed together. We were a little late before we finally checked out of our room!