Spankers Justice

by Aishling Morgan

  Something told June she could be in even more trouble than she thought. This might need some serious cajoling. Putting her arms round Mark’s neck, she offered him her cutest smile. ‘Oh honey, I’m sorry. You know how it is when us girls get together. The time just went. I never noticed.’

  ‘You’ve been at the restaurant with Cathy and Sue, all this time?’

  ‘Why sure, honey, I told you that’s what we were doing.’

  Unwinding June’s arms from round his neck, Mark took a step back. Anger was now definitely the expression that was winning out. Lightly and delicately, a few butterflies started performing a stately dance in June’s tummy. ‘June, that restaurant closes at midnight. I called them at 12.30. The staff were just heading home.’

  She gulped. ‘Oh, er. Yeah, well, we went on somewhere. Just for a bit.’

  ‘Somewhere, just for a bit?’ Mark repeated grimly. Taking her hand, he led her towards the living-room. ‘Come in here, young lady. I think we need to talk.’

  ‘Oh honey, it’s awfully late,’ she protested, trying to resist. There was something about the phrase “young lady” that made her feel strangely apprehensive. ‘Can’t it wait till the morning?’

  ‘No, it can’t. And tomorrow’s Saturday. Or rather, today is. Plenty of time to sleep in, if we want to. Or for anything else that needs doing.’

  Normally, the prospect of a long lazy Saturday morning in bed with her boyfriend would have filled June with delighted anticipation. She and Mark had only been living together a couple of months, and their love-life was still firing on all cylinders. But it crossed her mind that for once Mark – this new, grim, rather scary Mark – might have other ideas which might not prove quite so alluring.

  In the living room Mark sat down on the couch, motioning June to sit opposite him. ‘OK, my girl,’ he said, ‘time for some straight answers. Just where did you go after the restaurant?’

  ‘Oh, just to a bar, honey. It was no big deal, honest.’

  ‘No big deal, huh? June, you told me you’d be home well before twelve. Didn’t you think I’d worry? Didn’t it occur to you I’d be phoning round, frantically trying to find out where you were? Calling the hospital, even. Did you never even think of calling me? I tried your cellphone. But it’s switched off.’

  ‘Oh honey, I’m so sorry!’ exclaimed June, genuinely meaning it. She went to give Mark a hug, but he held her off.

  ‘No, stay where you are, June. I know you, and you’re damn good at being all sweet and cute and loving, and getting round me that way. Well, not this time, my girl. Straight answers, I said. You went to a bar. Which one? And the truth, now.’ he added, seeing June hesitate. ‘Remember, I can always check up if I have to.’

  ‘We, we went to Smokey Joe’s,’ June stammered.

  Mark gazed at her, appalled. ‘Smokey Joe’s! That dive?’

  ‘Oh, it’s not that bad, honey, honest! Cathy knows one of the guys that work there. And people were pretty friendly. Let us play pool and everything.’

  ‘Oh yeah, I just bet they did.’ Involuntarily, his mind’s eye conjured up a picture of his cutely curvy girlfriend leaning over a pool table in her form-hugging jeans, while the crowd of drunks and deadbeats that frequented Smokey Joe’s feasted their eyes on her temptingly rounded rear end. ‘I bet they just loved that. Three attractive young women, on their own, way past midnight. I’m amazed you three didn’t get yourselves raped in the parking lot.’

  ‘Oh, Mark honey,’ wheedled June in her most melting tones, ‘we were just fine. But it’s so sweet of you to worry about me. And I’m really sorry I forgot to let you know.’

  Again she went to hug him, and this time he didn’t push her away. But as they kissed he suddenly froze and held her at arm’s length. ‘June, have you been drinking?’ As she dropped her eyes he held her by the chin and lifted her face, obliging her to meet his gaze. ‘The truth, now, young lady. Have you?’

  ‘Er, well. I just had one …’

  ‘One?’

  ‘Well, maybe two …’

  The look in his eyes was now sheer anger. ‘On top of all this, you were drink-driving?’ Mark’s jaw tightened. ‘OK, Mary June Macarthur. That’s it. You are in deep trouble, young lady. Stand up.’

  Nervously, June obeyed. There seemed to be a lot more of the butterflies, and now they were dancing a tango. Mark’s use of her full name sounded decidedly ominous. ‘Mark, what are you …?’

  ‘Going to do? Something that should have been done a long time ago, my girl. I’m going to put you across my knee, take down your panties and give you a damn good spanking on your bare bottom. Now get those jeans down!’

  ‘A spanking ? But, but you can’t. I mean, I’m 22. I’m much too old to be spanked!’

  ‘Think so, do you? Well, young lady, this is where you learn different. No girl is ever too old for a good spanking, and certainly not you. Now if those jeans aren’t down in five seconds …’

  Reluctantly, June started to undo her belt. ‘But Mark, I’m not a little girl any more. No one’s spanked me since I was ten!’

  ‘Haven’t they now? Well, maybe that’s just the trouble! Your mom and dad are lovely people, but you twist them round your little finger and they let you get away with murder. If you’d spent a bit more time across your dad’s knee as a teenager, maybe you wouldn’t be in so much trouble now. As it is, my sweet, welcome to catch-up time!’

  Reaching out, Mark pulled June’s jeans down to her knees, then taking her by the hand drew her down across his lap so that the upper part of her body rested on the couch, with the plump curves of her bottom uppermost and perfectly positioned for his hand.

  June’s mind was in a turmoil. Part of her accepted that a good sound spanking was the least she deserved for the way she’d behaved this evening; and besides, she couldn’t deny that there was something rather exciting about this new, masterful side to her boyfriend. But at the same time it was humiliating that she, an adult, an intelligent young woman, should be treated like this. And if the look on Mark’s face was anything to go by, this was going to be no lenient spanking. A tingle of alarm quivered though her upturned bottom-cheeks; alarm that intensified when she felt his hands at her waist, and realised that her panties were being deftly lowered.

  ‘Oh no, Mark, please!’ she begged. Twisting round on his lap she gazed imploringly at him, her blue eyes filling with tears. ‘I’m so sorry. Really I am! I’ll never do it again, I promise! Please don’t do this to me!’

  Mark laughed scornfully. ‘Oh come on, honey. This is me, remember? How often have I seen you pull this tearful, penitent act on traffic cops and people like that? Then two minutes later you’re laughing at them for having been such suckers. Well, young lady, you’re not suckering me.’

  ‘Oh but please, Mark. At least not on the bare! It’ll hurt. And it’s so embarrassing!’

  ‘These little panties wouldn’t be much protection, honey,’ retorted Mark. ‘As for embarrassing, that goes with the territory, wouldn’t you say? In any case, I promised you a bare-bottom spanking, and that’s just what you’re going to get!’ So saying, he drew down the skimpy garment till it dangled around her thighs, well clear of the target area.

  And as target areas went, this one was a peach. Mark had often admired the shapely contours of his girlfriend’s rear. And more than once, in her more wilful moments, his palm had itched to administer the treatment those ripe curves so temptingly invited. But now, as he prepared to give the sweet, spoilt girl the first real spanking of her life, he was struck as never before by what a superb bottom she had. Pale, full and beautifully rounded, the girlish mounds positively cried out to be spanked – long, lovingly and often. Enchanted, he stroked the cool globes, squeezing them gently. They felt deliciously soft, trembling at his touch as if anticipating the punishment they’d soon be enduring.

  ‘You know, June,’ he said, ‘you’ve got a gorgeous bottom. Really beautiful. Only one thing wrong with it. It hasn’t been spanked anywhere nearly
enough. But that, young lady, is something I intend to put right. From now on you can count on getting this treatment whenever you deserve it. Starting right now.’

  ‘Oh!’ cried June as, out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed Mark raising his right hand high in the air. The next second –

  Smack.

  ‘Ow!’ she yelped, as much from surprise as from pain. Never would she have guessed just how sharply a hard male hand can sting a soft, unprotected female bottom.

  Smack.

  ‘Ow!’ A second swat, just as hard, connected with her other cheek. Mark paused to admire the two pink hand-prints now adorning the pale mounds, then settled down to spanking her hard and steadily, smacking now left, now right, and taking care to cover the whole expanse of her ripe rearward curves. After only a few spanks, a warm pink blush suffused the pretty bottom-cheeks, deepening steadily to a rich glowing red. With each spank June gasped and squealed, kicking and wriggling frantically. But Mark had her in a secure hold, and there was no escape for the increasingly penitent young woman.

  ‘Ow!’ she wailed. ‘Oh, Mark, no more, please! It hurts, it really hurts!’

  ‘You bet it does, honey,’ retorted Mark pitilessly, as his hand continued to rise and fall. ‘It’s a spanking, remember? They’re meant to hurt!’

  There was another reason for June’s discomfort. It was humiliating enough, in all conscience, for a bright, independent-minded 22-year-old to be turned over her boyfriend’s knee and soundly smacked on her bare bottom like a naughty child. But even as the heat built up in her spanked rear end, she was embarrassingly aware that adjacent parts of her anatomy were also becoming heated. Her spanking was stinging like hell, worse than anything she’d ever known, but at the same time, she couldn’t help realising, it was turning her on.

  ‘Oh please stop, honey,’ she implored tearfully. ‘That’s enough! Oh! Ow! I’m sorry. I’m really so, so sorry!’

  ‘Are you, June?’ asked Mark, pausing. ‘I wonder. Are you sorry for what you did. Or just sorry because you’re getting spanked for it? Do you know what you’re being spanked for?’

  ‘For drinking and driving?’

  ‘Oh no, not yet. We haven’t even got to that yet. This is for being so selfish and thoughtless. For staying out way past the time you said, and not letting me know. And then trying to lie about it when you got home.’ He leaned over and stroked her hair. ‘And also, honey, you’re being spanked because I love you and care about you, and couldn’t bear it if anything bad happened to you. So next time you’re tempted to act so irresponsibly, I want you to remember two things: first, that I love you, and second, just what it feels like to be put over my knee and spanked good and hard on your bare bottom.’

  He caressed the roseate curves. ‘Your bottom’s a lovely colour, my sweet. All hot and blushing. Makes it look even more beautiful. But it’s going to be a whole lot redder before we’re through here tonight.’ He helped her up off his lap. ‘OK, young lady, that’s it for this stage. Now go into the bedroom and fetch me the hairbrush. The black one with a handle.’

  June pouted tearfully, stamping her foot. ‘That’s not fair. Not the hairbrush. It’ll be agony!’

  ‘Oh, like my hand wasn’t?’ asked Mark, grinning. Reaching out, he landed a swat on June’s burning rear that made her yip. ‘Go get me that brush if you know what’s good for you, my girl. If I have to fetch it, you’ll be even sorrier. And no, you needn’t pull up your jeans and panties. Take ’em right off!’

  Resentfully, June stepped out of her jeans and panties and stomped off to the bedroom. Mark watched her go, relishing the sight of her rosy spanked cheeks peeking pertly out beneath her T-shirt, jiggling charmingly as she walked. She looked so adorable that he was tempted to follow her into the bedroom to cuddle and soothe her and make love to her. Quite apart from anything else, spanking his pretty girlfriend on her bare bottom was proving to be a highly erotic experience, and he had a rampant hard-on. But he repressed the impulse. Time enough for that when this sweet, spoilt girl had thoroughly learned her lesson.

  In the bedroom, June couldn’t resist checking her rear end in the mirror. ‘Wow.’ She gingerly stroked her fiery bottom-cheeks. The mirror also revealed a telltale gleam of moisture between her legs. How could something that hurt so much be such a turn-on, she wondered in bewilderment.

  ‘June! Get that brush here now!’ came Mark’s voice from the living-room. This was a whole new side to her boyfriend, a man usually so gentle and easy-going. She ought to resent it, she knew, but somehow she was finding it exciting. Scary, sure, but exciting.

  She trotted back into the living-room and held the brush out to Mark, pouting imploringly. ‘Please, honey. Not too hard,’ she begged.

  ‘No harder than you deserve, my girl,’ came the inexorable response. ‘OK, back across my knee with you.’

  Reluctantly, June let herself be drawn back down into prime spanking position. Mark stroked the bristle side of the brush across her glowing curves a few times, making her wriggle, then turned it over and rubbed the wooden side over the same area. It felt cool against June’s hot, spanked rear, but very soon, she reflected apprehensively, it would feel anything but.

  ‘OK, my girl,’ said Mark, ‘the hand-spanking was for being thoughtless and selfish and not telling me where you were. The hairbrush is for going to that crummy dive and putting yourself in danger with all those lowlifes.’

  ‘And – and the drink-driving?’ she asked nervously.

  ‘We’ll get to that.’

  Yikes, she thought. And then ‘Yikes!’ she yelped out loud, as the hairbrush landed with a sharp crack on the already tender and ultra-sensitive curve of her right cheek. The hand-spanks, she now realised, had been mere love-taps in comparison with the brush’s burning kiss. ‘Oh stop, honey, please. It hurts! It hurts!’ There was nothing phoney about June’s tears now. After only a dozen swats with the brush she was crying for real, with helpless convulsive sobs.

  Yet strangely enough the pain of the spanking wasn’t the main reason she was crying, although that was the catalyst that was allowing the tears to flow. As her spanking continued June found herself experiencing a strange mix of emotions – uppermost among them a sense of release. For the first time since infancy she had totally ceded control to another person. In allowing Mark to spank her – for she hadn’t physically resisted him at all – she had handed over responsibility, giving him all her trust. In return she felt deeply loved, cared for and protected, even while the stinging spanks rained down on her blazing bottom, and this confused medley of emotions found vent in a flood of tears.

  Hearing his girlfriend’s sobs, and recognising how different this was from the easy tears she could call on to manipulate situations to her advantage, Mark was tempted to stop spanking her. But it was vital, he felt, that her lesson should be well and truly learnt, and that this spanking should be one she’d never forget. So, hardening his heart, he brought the brush down a few dozen more times on her scarlet, squirming cheeks, paying particular attention to the sensitive sit-spot: that delectable under-curve where bottom meets thigh.

  To June, gasping and wailing, it seemed as if her bottom was on fire and swollen to twice its regular size. But at last Mark paused, and stroked the fiery mounds. ‘OK, honey,’ he said gently, ‘we’re nearly there. Up you get.’

  Awkwardly she rose and stood tearfully rubbing her burning rear. ‘Nearly there?’ she gulped. ‘Oh, Mark, haven’t I been spanked enough yet?’

  Mark stood up and hugged her. ‘Not quite, honey,’ he said. ‘There’s still that drink-driving to take care of, remember? Now just lie over the arm of the couch like a good girl, with your bottom nice and high. You’re going to get two dozen good licks with the belt.’

  ‘No,’ said June, but her voice was mostly just breath and all her independent willpower seemed to have deserted her. Obediently she draped herself over the couch’s padded arm, buried her face in the cushions and awaited her fate. There came to her ears a swish
ing noise which, she realised, must be Mark drawing his belt through the loops of his jeans. The sound was intensely scary, yet strangely thrilling.

  How sweet she looked lying there so submissively, Mark thought, her plump round bottom upraised and defenceless, its vivid blush contrasting exquisitely with the whiteness of her back and thighs. Never had she looked more feminine, nor more adorable. But at the same time her well-spanked cheeks presented an irresistible target. Doubling the belt in his grip, he took careful aim.

  Thwap.

  ‘Ah!’ yelped June, as the supple leather lit a trail of fire across her already blazing rear end. And she continued to yelp and squirm as the belt descended two dozen times in all, deepening the blush on her bouncing flesh-cushions. The pain was intense, but at the same time it seemed to lift her and take her to some place she’d never been before. She hardly registered when Mark stopped spanking her, but lay shuddering and whimpering, lost in the turmoil of her senses.

  Gently Mark lifted her from the couch and hugged her closely in his arms. ‘It’s OK, honey,’ he murmured, stroking her incandescent rear cheeks. ‘It’s all over now. You’ve had your spanking and you took it very well. You’re a sweet lovely girl and I love you very much.’

  Lifting her tear-stained face June kissed him passionately, pressing her body against his. ‘I love you too,’ she whispered tremulously, ‘and I promise I’ll never do anything so silly again.’ Mark kissed her back, letting his hand stray down between her legs. Her cleft was dripping wet, and at his touch she moaned deep inside her throat. ‘Oh please, yes, come inside me now,’ she murmured urgently. ‘But I’m too sore to lie on my back.’

  So moments later June once again found herself bent over the couch, her blushing rearward curves presented to her lover as he drove deep into her from behind, feeling the heat of her well-spanked bottom against his belly until, within seconds, they exploded together in a gasping, simultaneous climax.

  Later still they lay closely entwined in bed together, drifting into warm post-coital slumber. June’s bottom was still very sore, but she was aware that the sting had transmuted itself into a deep radiant glow that was much closer to pleasure than to pain. She felt cleansed, released, and very much loved and cared for.