Spanking Storybook

One More Account - Conclusion

By Christina

The walk from the living room to our bedroom was the longest journey I have ever taken. I’m sure that’s how the people on death row feel as they are taking that last walk down the corridor before meeting their fate.

I walked into our bedroom and headed straight for the closet.  Shaking as I opened the closet door I reached up, got the wooden paddle off of the shelf and carried it to the bed where I laid it.  It hurt just to look at it, and I shivered at the memory of the feeling it has on my bottom.

I took my shirt off, folded it and laid it on the chair nearby.  Started to unfasten my jeans and stopped to think of what would happen if I chose to keep them on.  Last time that happened, Keith decided to give me two spankings: the one I had previously earned and then one for not obeying him that night.  With that thought going through my mind, I hastily pulled my jeans and panties off and also placed them in the chair with my shirt.  I sat on the edge of the bed and waited for what seemed like forever.

I jumped as I heard the door open.  He slowly shut it behind him and walked over the bed where I was still at.  I was too frozen to move.  As he towered over me I could feel his disappointment in me.  He reached for my hand pulling me up as he nonchalantly switched places with me and before I had a chance to react I found myself pulled down over his knee.

“I don’t see the big deal, Keith.  It’s only a couple hundred dollars.  I can get a job and pay it off later.”  I began to plead my case again. Really I didn’t see the issue. Yes we have always had money problems but seriously I can handle it.  And we are better off now.  So what’s the big deal?

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! My thoughts were quickly interrupted as his hand began to spank my bottom.  Obviously he didn’t agree with my point of view.  He continued to spank; I continued to be my usual bratty self.  I was not going to cry.  I was not wrong here.  At least I didn’t think so.

“Caroline, you can not go off and do your own thing.  We are a couple. We are in this together. And when rules are set you will learn to follow them.  Or I will assist you in learning this lesson”.

He spoke so calmly to me.  Yet I could still hear the frustration and disappointment in his voice.  I shivered just knowing that his stopping to say those words meant the he was also using this time to switch to the paddle.  I braced myself for it.  And I waited.

And then it happened.  The one thing that was worse than having him paddle me.  He slid me off his lap as he stood and exited the room, leaving me right where I was.  He’d never done this before.  Was he really that mad?  Would he come back?  Am I to move?  Does he not love me enough to punish me?  Too many thoughts running through my head.  I couldn’t even see straight.  The room had gone hazy, and I was shaking so fast.

I don’t know when, but sometime later I realized that I was still sitting on the floor.  Only now Keith’s arms were wrapped around me as he held me tight.  The blurriness of the room was caused by my own tears as I was crying uncontrollably like never before.  I knew he loved me.  Even through his disappointment I felt that love.  But the tears just couldn’t stop.  Even without a good paddling, I felt his forgiveness as he continued to hold me, rubbing his hands on my back and lightly kissing me.  His not spanking me was a worse punishment than I ever would have imagined.  Yet I still felt freed somehow…

The End

Christina loves to hear from her readers.  Be sure to leave a comment and give her some feedback on her story.

New at Discipline and Desire!

Honey-Do List

By Maren

“Has someone been feeling a little neglected here lately?” he countered, grinning.

“Not neglected, per se,” she hedged.  “But you’ve got to admit, I am sitting wa-a-ay too comfortably for my own good.”

“You have been getting a bit big for your britches.”

“Yes, I have.  But can you blame me?  There hasn’t been a hint of pink anywhere on these cheeks all summer long!” she declared, as if it were the crime of the century.  And to her, a bonafide, fun-time spank-a-holic, it probably was.

Read More at Discipline and Desire

Love’s Labor

By Belle

The salty air and sound of people on the beach woke Brenda. She stretched, smiling. She’d never slept so well in her life. Must be the sound of the waves and the smell of the ocean.

She sat up to slide out of bed and, for a moment, was puzzled by the soreness in her skin, as if she’d taken off her bathing suit bottom and gotten sunburned.

Then, she remembered, and it brought a smile to her face.

Read More at Discipline and Desire

I met Christina on the DD Forum yahoo group, and I’m just thrilled to tell you that she’s going to be sharing her spanking stories with Spanking Storybook!

One More Account

By Christina

“You opened another credit card account that we don’t need” Rick exclaimed!

Our credit debt had increased drastically the past year. I’m not really sure where the money all went to.  Just a little outfit here, a couple new pairs of shoes there, and it just seemed to add up faster than I kept track.  Oops!  I guess I just did a little overspending.

I knew how Rick felt about overspending.  We have talked about it for a long time.  Before he set the spending limit six months ago, I did a lot of frivolous shopping.  But when we didn’t have enough to make the car repairs because I had maxed out all our cards, Rick decided it was time for a change.

He decided that it was best to cut up most of our cards.  We did keep one for fun stuff, and one for emergencies.  And then he also put a limit on how much we could spend each month on frivolous activities and items.  I did really good at staying on track for a while.  Of course I would have this urge every once in a while, but I knew my husband meant business so I never went overboard on anything.

But I always really wanted to shop.  I was an impulse shopper by trade.  So when I got the pre-approved card offer in the mail I jumped on it.  Besides, I would just take one quick shopping spree and then pay it off before Rick every found out…no harm, right?

I thought it was a brilliant plan, until today.  He got home long before I did and started going through the mail.  To my surprise …and his…there was the credit card bill in the stack; a bill for a card that he didn’t approve, much less say that we could open.

Rick stood there glaring at me, waiting for an answer or an explanation, or something.

“I um, well I,” I stood there looking between my feet and the papers he was waving in his hand.

“I’m waiting, Caroline.  Did you open a credit card account without my permission?”

I opened my mouth to speak but all that came out were a couple of sounds.  I wasn’t sure if I was more shocked that I actually disobeyed him or that I got caught.

“I’m still waiting for an answer and I don’t plan on having to wait to long.”  Rick was getting more ticked as I just stood there avoiding his question.  He knew the answer already, so why did I have to answer him?

Yet the look in his eyes told me I should spill it.  “I’m sorry. I was good for so long and I felt I just needed to release and shop.  I was going to pay if off before you found our, I just…” I trailed my voice as I watched his face darken.

“So not only did you disobey me with opening another account, but you also were planning on deceiving me and lying about it. I see…” Rick walked over to me and placed his hands on my shoulders.  Looking at me squarely in the eyes so that mine met his he softly spoke.  “Go to our room, get undressed, and have the paddle out waiting for me.  I’ll be there in a few.”

- To Be Continued -

Anna and Her Dog - Part 4 - Conclusion - by Mark Cepillo

Her note read as follows:

“Mi querido Rogelio—each time I receive a gift from my ‘secret admirer’ I imagine that it comes from you. Still, if it is so, I am deeply puzzled, for I know you must disapprove of my conduct with the innocent men whose lives I’ve disrupted. Indeed, I am a mystery to myself, and my guilt is as profound as my inability up to now to change my behavior. Here then, is my wish—please punish me as you see fit, and then do with me as you want…I am yours.”

I found her in the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed, face buried in her hands. I had to practically pry her hands open before I could kiss those lips that had filled my reveries for months. When she started to stammer something I put my fingers to her lips, feeling that this was no time for talking, and quickly turned her over my lap.

She was quiet now, only sighing as I slowly slipped her skirt up to reveal the thong I knew would be there. The sight of her voluptuous buttocks, essentially naked and turned up for me so invitingly, was more intoxicating than the rum I had consumed that afternoon.

I began by scolding her, and I meant it—I reminded her of my friend Magdalena, who became so distraught after Anna lured her lover away that she withdrew in the middle of the semester and returned to Puerto Rico. The things I told her she already knew, but hearing it from me, in that vulnerable and exposed position, seemed to have a strong effect on her. She began to tremble slightly, keeping her face hidden from me so that it was impossible to tell if she was already crying, and all she could say was “Yes, Rogelio,” in an uncharacteristically soft voice.

Then I began to spank her, but not like the playful spankings I had sometimes given those former girlfriends who took such delight in provoking me. I spanked her purposefully, hard and rapidly, as a husband might spank a wife found gambling away the rent money, or a father with a teenage daughter arrested for reckless driving. It was with a feeling of great satisfaction that I felt her defenses starting to crumble, and before very long she was crying openly in what must have been a moment of profound catharsis for her. She no longer turned away from me, and seemed to be not at all embarrassed that I could see large tears tracing their path down her beautiful face.

We had been so focused on the moment that I do not believe either of us had heard Fidel’s incessant yapping during the entire duration of the spanking. I let her up then, with no clear idea of what would come next. Anna, however, was much clearer. She locked Fidel in the bathroom and went off to compose herself in the other room, returning with two tall cuba libres. She sat on my lap, apparently having lost none of her taste for taking the initiative, so that I could feel the warmth of her buttocks on my legs. We began to kiss passionately, after which it seemed very natural to spontaneously turn her over my knee again.

This time the tone was completely different. A subtle but unmistakable squirming of her hips told me that it was time to remove her thong, which slipped easily over her pink bottom. In another moment she was gasping and moaning, her derriere rising rhythmically to meet the palm of my hand—in short, a romantic spanking, segueing smoothly and inevitably into the most intense lovemaking of my life.

So that is how it began, two years ago, although it seems like yesterday. As for tomorrow, it is not easy to say. Anna wishes to return to Nicaragua someday soon, so we have a long road before us, and the most complicated and difficult part of it is only just beginning.

Oh, you ask, what did I write in my envelope on that fateful day? I leave that to your imagination.

The End

(Mark loves comments and feedback on his stories : Zorro7usa @ yahoo.com.)

Anna and Her Dog - Part 3 - by Mark Cepillo  (zorro7usa @ yahoo . com)

She greeted me the next day wearing a short burgundy dress that showed her slim legs to advantage, a white shirt with gold cuff links, and the hoop earrings, which I complimented.

“Yes, they’re from a supposed ‘secret admirer’.”

She smiled her enigmatic smile—did she suspect?

“Whose numbers, I’m sure, are legion.”

“Oh Rogelio, you sound like a character from a Jane Austen novel.” But I could tell she liked it.

While she prepared cocktails in the kitchen of her charming, understated apartment, I examined her bookshelves. Along with the expected psychology texts and Latin American novels I spied a volume which immediately led me to reformulate my plan—it was “Story of O,” by Pauline Reage. Clearly there was more to Anna Natalia Chamorro than I had dared to imagine.

She returned with the cocktails (designed, I’m sure, to cloud my judgement), and the little dog, who regarded me balefully, its beady little eyes barely visible through a tangle of white hair.

“Say hello to Fidel,” she said, indicating the little cur, who sniffed my pants leg and took it upon himself to growl ominously, as if he could intimidate anything larger than a hamster.

Without further ado Anna seated herself at the chess board, again taking the white pieces.

“I have a suggestion,” I said. “To make the game even more interesting, I propose we play for secret stakes.”

She looked at me inquiringly.

“Each of us will write a wish on a piece of paper and seal it in an envelope. When the game is over, the winner will receive his or her wish.”

Now she eyed me with amusement, but, as I had calculated, her self-confidence led her to agree. She took a while to write down her stakes, we each sealed our envelope, and it was time for the game to begin….although truth to tell, it had been underway for some time already.

This time around her attention was focused, and her attack as subtle as it was ferocious. Forty five minutes and three cuba libres later I was still parrying her moves, and while we were playing on relatively even terms, something strange and unexpected began to occur. I found myself consumed with the desire to learn what she had written in her note, that note which she had so carefully composed. My instincts told me that the only way to gain a decisive insight into Anna’s carefully guarded soul was to read that note, and it seemed there was only one way to guarantee that. Thus I decided that, my competive nature be hanged, I would lose, but so cleverly that she would not suspect my complicity in her victory.

Her reaction upon winning the game was a study in contrasts—at first an unmistakeable exultation in her eyes, quickly replaced by every sign of confusion and nervousness. She stood up suddenly, startling Fidel, and drained her cocktail glass. Then she pushed her envelope toward me, her hand shaking, saying:

“Please read this, but I have to wait in the other room. If I have misjudged you, please leave and never mention it to me again, or to anyone else. All will go on as before. Otherwise…”

But she could not continue. She practically ran from the room, followed by Fidel, and slammed the door behind her. Her note read as follows:

- To Be Continued -   I know I know that was a mean place to leave you hanging like that.