Layla had an enjoyable evening. Mr Larson didn’t relax much, but she loved Mike and his wife, Sarah. Most importantly they seemed happy to broker a larger deal with Mr Larson’s company despite his common and unrefined staff. Mike and Sarah also invited Layla and Mr Larson to a golfing picnic the following weekend, and Mr Larson had agreed they would go. Karen was on her tummy. She was sniffing now, not crying, and trying to understand the lovely feeling she has in her most intimate area, as she gently pushes up and down on the bed, her bright red bobbing up and down, which she can see, in the mirror, if she looks over. Which of course she does… So, this one is definitely on the same street, very close to where the real one was, and quite likely looks pretty much the same. Mrs Walters and her girls would have walked by here daily, the scene is set, you can now visualise the area. The next Wednesday, Mr Larson gave Layla a hard beating, since her bruising and soreness had faded. She moaned loudly as she became aroused, but Mr Larson made no attempt to pleasure her this time. He paddled her hard and used a strap like he had used on her first spanking. The first time he had used it, she had cried, but now she moaned. It still bit her skin, but she found the sensation thrilling. When he had finished, Mr Larson made her perform oral sex on him before shooing her out of his house. For winter break, I went up north to learn how to snowboard, and it turned out that my instructor was a major cutie, so I was even more excited! But just when I started to do well, I fell on my butt in the middle of the snow. I started crying because it hurt so bad, but to make everything worse, the cute instructor came up right behind me and smiled at me in a 'You're pathetic' kind of way."

There was not a doubt in my mind she meant what she said, and I scurried off to Lucille’s study, where her wooden paddle hung behind the closet door. I had no problem finding it; I’d been sent to fetch it often enough by my late wife. And I realized I was shaking with dread and the slightest dawning of sexual arousal that often accompanied these situations, at least in the beginning moments before the reality of a spanking took over. Mr Larson led them from his car to the picnic area and carried a hamper with him. He met several people he knew. Layla burned with shame as she felt the moistness between her legs. She was laid over a desk receiving a beating from her boss, but she found the experience intensely erotic. She cursed her body its betrayal. Yes, sir.” She obeyed his command and positioned herself over his desk. She lowered herself slightly onto her elbows with her palms flat on the desk. This story is based on the true recorded events of a finishing school in Bristol, England in the late 1800’s.

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The journey to the end of the day was like some heroic trek in a fantasy novel. Long and arduous. The lunch time collection of the ‘death sentence’ sent a cold shiver to her tummy. The words left the slip and ran amok in her brain. There before her the words threatened her bottom. a.m. Wake early and intend to write. Arse about online instead. I swear the only way I get something done is if I’m procrastinating over doing something else.

Layla was thrilled to have left the bar job. She had hated it. She had hated how she never got a day off, she hated that she was always exhausted, and she hated that the penny-pinching Aaron took every error in her till—even when she confirmed she had added items by mistake and the money was right—from her wages. She felt no guilt in leaving Aaron down a member of staff, though she hoped it would not make life too difficult for her colleagues. Her husband reacted surprisingly well too, suggesting that they enrol in therapy to help both of them exit their long-standing relationship. I took this as my cue to make a commitment and said I would move to the suburbs to be with her and her three children, once her husband had moved out.

Slight of stature Vera may be, but she is what would be called “wiry” in a man—strong and athletic in a compact frame. I managed to stifle further outcry for the next dozen spanks, but Vera was applying the paddle with at least as much authority as Lucille ever did. Eventually I could no longer keep my distress under control, and I began to beg and plead for her to stop. When this had no effect, I cried out and promised to mend my ways. The paddling proceeded unabated. I ultimately surrendered completely and lay sobbing in submission as Vera continued to apply spank after burning spank to my naked and defenseless bottom. He was dressed in a designer suit, which no doubt cost a month’s salary. He looked very handsome, but did he really expect her to spend that kind of money on an outfit for one dinner? From historical fiction to contemporary romance, to genre stories featuring lesbian protagonists, you’ll find all manner of sapphic short stories here. Whether their sexuality takes center stage or is merely a character trait, any lesbian story is welcome!. Looking for fresh new lesbian short stories? Not a piece of paper, no,” he said sternly. “I mean the type of discipline that you will feel every time you sit down for a week. The type you will remember.” Something I read made me think this was it. But, now, after a few letters to the right people, I do not think that is the house we are looking for. But it gives you a good impression of the well to do area.