The following week I’d just got home from school when Phil arrived on my doorstep. “I noticed your mum’s car wasn’t here - is she out?” My heart missed a beat, and for a moment I lost the ability to think or speak. “Um… yeah… she’s working, won’t be home till six… um…” “Are you going to invite me in?” “Right. Yes. Yes, come in.”
Phil smiled at my confusion, closing the door behind him as he entered. But for all his confidence, I suddenly realized there was something else in his face - a hesitation, a hint of uncertainty. With a jolt I realised that though he was 17 to my 13, this was just as much an adventure into the unknown for him as it was for me. With that insight, my confidence came flooding back. I wanted to be Phil’s girlfriend, and I was willing to take a few spankings to get there, but I wanted to make sure I was more than just the girl he spanked….
I put on my best demure little girl voice, looking down at his feet, “I’ve been a naughty girl again, haven’t I?”. “Yes Susie, you have.” “Are you going to spank me?” “I’m afraid so. Go to your room.” I walked slowly up the stairs, feeling his eyes on my back, hearing the excitement in his breath. In my room he sat down on the bed, and I stood in front of him, eyes still cast down. A pause. A breath. “Take the shorts off.” For a moment I wondered how he knew I had cycle shorts on under my dress, then realised he must have been looking up my skirt as I walked up the stairs.
I hesitated for a moment, then reached up under my skirt and pulled off my shorts, stepping out of them and kicking them across the room. Another pause. Then Phil reached out and took hold of the hem of my skirt and lifted it right up, pulling me down over his lap as he did so, so that I ended up with my bare belly resting across his knees, my dress scrunched up under my armpits, his left hand in the middle of my back, his right hand resting on the seat of my knickers. “You know, Susie, you are a very beautiful girl. Very beautiful, very sexy,” he lifted his hand up away from my bottom “and… very… naughty…”. With each word he brought his hand back down sharply onto my knickers, sending three sharp jolts of warmth flooding through my buttocks.
"You’re pretty naughty yourself, you know." Taken aback by my sudden interjection, Phil paused, his hand raised to deliver another spank. "What?"
"Looking up my skirt, pulling my dress up, getting turned on by putting me over your knee and spanking me on my knickers - not to mention touching me up in the car the other week," I was choosing my words carefully, sensing his reaction and playing to it. "Does it feel good to have a naughty little girl on your lap with her dress pulled right up, ready for a spanking? Do you like looking at my knickers, and smacking my bottom? It makes you all hard, doesn’t it?" A pause. He didn’t need to answer that last question, the evidence was pressing against my belly. "Does it turn you on, Phil, pulling my dress up and spanking me on my knickers?"
"It really turns me on."
"What does? Tell me."
"I like looking at you. I look at you in you school dress and imagine having you across my lap. I love it when you say that you’ve been naughty, and that you need a spanking. It really turns me on to put you over my knee and pull your skirt up, to see your knickers, and then to give your bottom a good hard spanking."
As I hoped, talking about it seemed to turn Phil on as much as actually spanking me. “Do you think about me when I’m not there?”
"When you’re in your bed at night, do you imagine having me over your knee in my knickers? Do you play with yourself thinking about pulling my skirt up and spanking me?" On the words ‘play with yourself’ I slipped my hand up into his lap and started to stroke the bulge in his trousers. A long ‘aaah’ escaped his lips. "I bet you imagine other things as well, don’t you? What do you fantasize about, Phil? Inside your head, do you take my dress off and imagine me in my bra and knickers?" My stroking continued, firmer and firmer. "Would you like to do that? Would you like to take my school dress off?" A moment’s pause, in which I could hear his breathing, almost panting, as I continued to rub his erection under the palm of my hand. "It just unzips down the back"
For a moment I thought that even that wasn’t going to be enough for him. What would it take to get him to take my dress off? But with just a bit of a fumble he took hold of the collar of my dress with one hand, and with the other pulled the zip down. I slid off his lap, stood up, and shrugged my shoulders out of the dress, letting it fall in a pool around my feet. And then I just stood there, in my white bra and knickers, letting him enjoy the view. Unconsciously, I’m sure, his hand dropped to his lap and squeezed the bulge in his jeans. “Oh God, Susie,” he breathed, “you are so beautiful.”
"Here," I smiled, "let me help you with that." I knelt down in front of him, leaning forward to take his hand out of his lap and reach for the button of his jeans, pushing my chest out to make the most of my young breasts. I pulled down his zip fly, and then with a daring I didn’t know I had, tugged the front of his briefs down. I’d never seen a grown up penis before, and though I’d done my online research, and knew more or less what to expect, nothing quite prepared me for the intense rush I got seeing his member standing out to attention. As I took hold of it, faking more confidence than I felt, I was suddenly overtaken with a wave of disbelief. I’d worshipped Phil from afar, but so had every girl I knew, and here I was, kneeling in front of him in my bra and knickers, my school dress discarded, holding his erection in my hands.
It only took a moment of stroking before he came, spreading a warm, white, sticky mess across my hands. “How was that?” I smiled up at Phil.
"Oh Susie, that was amazing. You are amazing." He leaned down to kiss me warmly on the lips, but there was no tongue, and I could feel from the sagging of his penis in his hands that for him, at least, we were done. But that was ok. "I’d better go before your mum gets home." He smiled "And you’d better put your dress back on!" He grabbed a handful of tissues from the box by my bed and disappeared into the bathroom, and I climbed back into my school dress, and pulled my shorts back up over my knickers. Phil emerged from the bathroom, still flushed, and was about to run down the stairs when he turned back into my bedroom, put his arms around me and kissed me on the forehead. "I love you, Susie."
"I love you, Phil"
"I’d better go. See you soon!" and he was down the stairs and out of the door, leaving me alone. I lay back down on my bed, hitched my dress up, and slipped my hand down the front of my shorts and rather damp knickers. I wasn’t really very experienced at masturbating - I’d only started a few months before - but thinking of Phil looking at me in my underwear, and about holding his erection in my hands, and him kissing me, and saying "I love you", it wasn’t hard to bring myself to a bigger orgasm than I’d ever had. Only when I heard mum’s key in the lock did I jump up, smooth my skirt back down, and trot down the stairs to meet her.
I think this may have been the first spanking photo I saw on the internet, many years ago…
It was Emily’s fourteenth birthday sleepover party. The movie had finished, a bottle of wine that Claire had sneaked in had been drunk, and the four girls were in a giggly, talky sort of mood when Anne suggested playing “What’s your kink?”.
"So the way it works is that we each take it in turns to tell the others about something kinky - something sexy you’ve done, or that you fancy doing, that turns you on. And then all four of us have to tell if we’ve ever done anything like it. Only rule is its got to be true, and we all promise never to say anything about it outside this room."
Emily giggled. She’d never drunk alcohol before, and the small glass of wine she’d had had gone right to her head. “You go first!”
"Is everyone in?" Anne looked around the room. The other three girls nodded. "OK, here’s mine. I like fooling around with girls more than boys." "Lesbo!" Jane sang out playfully. "Seriously?" asked Emily, her eyes wide. "Sure. I mean, seriously, girls have much nicer bodies than boys - wouldn’t you rather cuddle up to another girl than some boy? Besides, boys just don’t have a clue - they just fumble around, trying to get their hands on your breasts or up your skirt, they don’t have any idea how to touch, or how to take their time. Girls get it. Just logical really - girls know how to touch your body because they’ve practiced on themselves!" A pause. "So, have any of you three ever made out with another girl?".
Jane and Claire looked at each other and burst out laughing. “What?” asked Emily. “Oh, when we were little - like eleven or twelve - we used to practice kissing with each other. I used to stay over at Claire’s house, so after lights out one of us would pretend to be whichever boy the other one fancied, and do a deep voice, and then kiss them and feel them up. But we were always pretending it was a boy.”
"What about you, Emily?"
"No, I’ve never done anything with a girl. I’ve hardly done anything with a boy either, for that matter… thought about it a lot though!"
"Your turn then. If you’ve never done anything kinky, what is it you’ve imagined doing?"
"Well, this probably sounds really weird, but I like… you all promise not to tell?" The girls nodded. "I like spankings."
"Yeah. Just the idea of it, of a boy putting me over his knee and pulling my skirt up, and my knickers down, and then spanking me…"
"You ever done it?" Anne was curious.
"No. I mean, I remember being spanked by my mum and dad when I was little, and there was a babysitter I had when I was eight or nine who sort of spanked me. She’d threaten, in a sort of joking way, and I’d play up, and sometimes she’d give me a slap on the seat of my pyjamas, but never more than that. I really wanted her to, but I don’t think she thought she was allowed."
"So it wouldn’t matter that it was a girl doing the spanking," asked Anne, with a smile.
"What - oh, I see what you mean! No, it wouldn’t."
"So girls - anyone got a spanking story?"
Claire hesitated. “Well, my first boyfriend spanked me once or twice. He never took my knickers down, but he’d pull my skirt up and slap me on my butt. I didn’t really like it, but it turned him on.”
"I don’t get this one. I mean, I get spankings from my dad, and there’s nothing sexy about it at all."
"Your Dad still spanks you?" Emily was shocked.
"Sure. Probably once a month or so. My parents are the old fashioned type, you know. If I piss my mum off she’s like ‘go to your room and wait for your father to get home’. And I have to go and get undressed and ready for bed, ‘cause my Dad comes home late. And when he does he comes up and sits on my bed, and he makes me stand in front of him in my nighty while he scolds me. Then it’s over his knee, nighty up, knickers down, and he gives me a pretty hard spanking. Nothing sexy at all, it just hurts, and is embarrassing as all hell. What about you, Anne?"
"No. I mean I still get the odd spanking from my Mum - but she just bends me over the arm of the sofa, pulls my skirt up and gives me three of four on the seat of my knickers with her slipper. But I wouldn’t mind giving a spanking…"
"Great idea," laughed Jane… "Go on, Anne, give Emily a birthday spanking!" Claire joined in "Spanking! Spanking!"
"Well, if Emily wants to know what her kink is really like…"
Emily looked around at the other three girls. “OK…”
Anne jumped out of her sleeping bag, pulled up a chair and sat on it. Her nighty was more like a t-shirt, barely even reaching down to the top of her knickers, and certainly doing nothing to hide her long legs. “Emily,” she said, trying to take a serious tone but with a giggle creeping through, “your behaviour tonight has been unacceptable. As your babysitter your parents told me to spank your bottom if you were naughty. So come here, young lady.”
Jane and Claire were rolling around laughing as Emily got out of her sleeping bag and stepped across to Anne. “Take off your pyjama bottoms.” Emily hesitated for a moment, then pulled her yellow striped pyjama trousers down off her hips and let them drop to the floor around her ankles. She didn’t take her eyes off Anne as she stepped out of them to stand in front of her in her top and knickers. “Now, get those knickers down.” The laughter stopped and Jane and Claire watched wide eyed as Emily obeyed, pushing her white knickers down to her knees, her hands shaking slightly as she did. Anne’s breathing had got a little bit faster as she looked at the half naked girl standing in front of her. For a moment, she hesitated, and quietly asked in her own voice “Are you sure you want to do this?”. Emily just nodded, not trusting her voice to speak. “OK, I’m going to give you twelve. If you want me to stop, just say.”.
Switching back to her low voice, Anne reached out to take Emily by the arm. “Right. You are getting a spanking,” she intoned as she pulled Emily down across her lifting her pyjama top up as she did so that her bare tummy lay across her thighs, and Emily lay naked from the small of her back down to her knees. She rested her hand on Emily’s bare bottom for a moment, and then lifted it up and brought it sharply back down with a loud smack. Emily gasped, but said nothing, so Anne repeated the smack, and again, and again. Jane’s eyes grew wider and wider, and Claire covered her mouth with her hand as they watched the spanking progress. After twelve she stopped, resting her hand on Emily’s pink bottom. Emily’s gasps took on a deeper tone. “Oh, that feels so good.” Without a word Anne slipped her hand down between Emily’s thighs. It barely took a touch to send Emily into a shivering, moaning orgasm.
Claire and Jane looked at each other, and burst out laughing. “Happy Birthday Emily!” Claire sang out. Anne joined in as Emily jumped up in sudden embarrassment, pulled her knickers up, grabbed her pyjama trousers and burrowed back into her sleeping bag, her bright red face buried in her pillow. A few moments passed, and then she suddenly joined in the laughing. “Oh wow, that was even better than I thought,” she blurted out, sending the girls into a fresh round of laughter.
"Now, who’s next?"
Continuing my fantasy…
Getting off with Phil in the back of his car might have ended rather disappointingly, but that was nothing to the disappointment I felt over the following weeks at school, when he continued to treat me as if I didn’t exist. I thought that touching me like that would make me his girlfriend, I guess I sort of felt like that was the deal. But if anything it was worse than before - I didn’t know if he was embarrassed or feeling guilty about what had happened, or if he just didn’t want all his friends to know that he had got off with a thirteen year-old girl. Whatever the reason, the more I tried to hang around him at school, the more irritated he got.
But I wasn’t going to give up easily… the memory of the way he had looked at me, my shirt half off and my jeans around my knees… the memory of the feel of his hand on my breasts, my thighs, my stomach, my knickers… the taste of his tongue in my mouth… I’d do anything to have him touch me again.
And, thanks to my time with Tom, I’d discovered spanking. A little bit of very careful web searching had convinced me that this was a common fantasy, that lots of guys were turned on by the idea of spanking a naughty schoolgirl. So with a lot of thought, I wrote a note…
"I’m sorry I’ve been irritating you at school recently. I feel like I’ve been a naughty little girl - someone needs to take me in hand and give me a good spanking. My mum will be going out after school today, so I’ll be home alone until about 6. S."
As I left school I saw my chance - Phil was alone for a moment. I rushed up to him, pushed the note into his hand, and then ran around the corner to where I knew Mum would be waiting in the car.
Mum dropped me home and headed off to her meeting. I dashed inside, ran up the stairs to my room and pulled off the cycle shorts I wore under my school dress. Then I sat on the edge of my bed and waited, heart in mouth. I didn’t have to wait long. A couple of minutes later there was a ring at the door. For a moment I wanted to pretend I wasn’t home, but then I pulled myself together, walked down the stairs, and opened the door. Phil was there, my note in his hand. I stepped back to let him in, and closed the door behind him. He looked around, as if to check we were alone.
"You know, Susie, you’re right. You have been acting like a spoiled little girl." His words were stern, but there was smile on his lips and a flush on his face.
"I’m sorry, Phil. Should I go to my room?" I tried to look and sound demure, every bit the little girl, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice.
Phil nodded, so I walked quickly back up the stairs, and pushed open my bedroom door. As Phil walked in behind me and pushed the door closed I stood quietly in the middle of the room, looking at my feet. Phil looked around the room, and then sat down in the only obvious place, the edge of my bed.
"You’ve been a very naughty girl, Susan, and you know it. I’m afraid you leave me with no alternative but to spank you."
"Oh no, Phil, I’m sorry, I promise I’ll be good from now on."
"It’s too late for that. Come here." He reached out his hand and I let him take mine, and draw me across to stand next to him, and then pull me down over his lap. "You’re going to be very sorry by the time I’ve finished with you." There was an edge to his voice now that made me slightly uncomfortable. He took hold of my wrists with his left hand and held them firmly, then reached down and lifted the skirt of my school dress up. I suddenly started to wish I hadn’t started this, or at least I had left my cycle shorts on, so that I would have more protection than my white cotton knickers. "I’m going to give you a spanking you won’t forget in a hurry."
With those words his hand landed on my buttocks with a crack, and I gasped with shock. It was nothing like spankings I’d had from Mum or Dad, nothing like the teasing, playful whacks that Tom gave me. Even the one smack hurt, and it was followed by another, and another, and another. Within moments I was kicking and bawling my eyes out like a little child, but the smacks continued to fall in relentless rhythm, the burning heat in my bottom growing and growing.
And then, without warning, the spanking stopped. My bottom still throbbed with heat and pain, but I could feel something else, too. The hand that a moment before had been delivering the blows was now stroking up and down the inside of my bare thighs, brushing, as it did, against the thin layer of cotton between my legs. And I realised that my bottom was not the only part of me that was hot, and that the tears on my cheeks were not my only wetness. “I finished before you did the other day,” Phil said softly. “Now its your turn.” And with those words he started to rub his hand more firmly and purposefully on the narrow strip of knickers between my legs. I couldn’t believe how close I was - within moments my cries of pain and protest at the spanking were replaced by gasps and moans.
As I shuddered to a conclusion I just lay there across Phil’s knee, feeling the aching of my bottom merging with the deep warmth of orgasm. Phil continued to gently stroke the back of my thighs for a minute or two. Then he spoke quietly. “I’m going to have to go now. Listen, people at school can’t know about us. We’d get in all sorts of trouble, and your parents wouldn’t let us see each other. But don’t worry. We’ll find times we can be together. I promise.” Then he lifted me gently off his lap, kissed me on the forehead, and walked across to the door.
"Thank you" I said quietly as he stepped out of my room. "Hmm?" he turned back, not hearing. "Thank you. For spanking me. Properly. I needed that."
"Yes. You did. And I’m sure you’ll need another one some day soon…"