Spanking Her New Boss

Spanking Her New Boss was my first published story back in December 2011. It is a CFNM Spanking story.

Available as a slim paperback. Buy it!
Or get it for the Kindle or as a paperback from Amazon.
Also available from Kobo, Barnes & Noble, Smashwords, and more.

"Arrogant, cocky, and rude. Susan's young new boss is also a cute hunk. When she catches him giving away store merchandise, she comes up with a plan to get him right where she wants him - over her knee for a pants-down spanking!"

Please enjoy the first few chapters:

Spanking Her New Boss

Susan Donato sighed as she wiped the counter with a wet rag. Thirty nine years old, soon to be forty, and here she was working at  Fuel Mart.  She shook her head and began readying another pot of coffee for brewing.

It hadn't always been like this.

She had held a good teaching position at a nearby junior high, but times were tough. The school district had been forced to close the school she worked at, and merge the students there with another junior high across town.

Susan found herself out of a job; her years of experience, rather than helping her find a new one, were making it harder. Each school she had interviewed with more or less told her the same thing: they would love to hire her, but they needed her to take less money. In fact, the amount they were offering her was the salary that a brand new teacher, fresh out of her studies, would be making. Susan refused.

A new school year had begun, and Susan still hadn't found a job. She even put her name out there, looking to be a substitute, but before long she had to get another job in order to pay her bills.

Now, here she was brewing coffee at Fuel Mart.

It wasn't really so bad; she was hired in as the assistant manager, and the pay, although less than she was accustomed to, was adequate. The job was easy and the hours, unlike teaching positions, were stable. An eight hour day was never a twelve or fourteen hour day, as could sometimes happen at the school, when grading papers and other activities were added in.

In fact, she thought, Fuel Mart would actually be a great job, except for one thing: her boss.

When she was hired several months ago, the manager was a very nice man, older than her, named Robert. Unfortunately, he had received a promotion several weeks ago, and was now working in the Corporate Office.

The manager who was brought in to replace him - Susan's new boss - was a total nightmare.

His name was Dan Wilson, and just by appearances, one might not think things were so bad. He was actually a pretty attractive guy; Susan had thought so when she had first seen him.

Dan was young, lean and athletic; he had a cute face and (when he turned around) an even cuter butt. Tight and round and packed into those khaki pants, Susan remembered blushing that first day, when Dan turned around and caught her staring at his behind.

But then, he opened his mouth.

All those thoughts about firm buns and good looks went out the door when she realized that her hot new boss was actually a crass, arrogant jerk; he would hit on the female customers, and make rude and often sexist remarks around Susan and the other employees.

The worst thing of all, thought Susan, as she returned to her position behind the front counter, was that her new boss, Dan - this obnoxious pig - was only twenty-five years old. She was nearly old enough to be his mother!

Gosh, it made her depressed. What had begun as a nice, comfortable job was turning into a place that she dreaded coming to.

Now, Susan stood beside the cash register, watching as a woman in a blue van filled up her tank at one of the twelve regular gas pumps outside.

Dan should be arriving any moment; she watched for him out the window. An end to peace and quiet for another day.

She wished she could go back in time to that first day, to that handsome young man with the tight ass and the cute smile. Before he had opened his mouth and ruined everything.

Oh, but how she wished there was some way to just shut him up - to transform the arrogant pig into a quiet, respectful young man! A hot young man!

Perhaps then, she could once again enjoy the fantasy that she had begun forming during that very first encounter: the one where the two of them walked together to the back office - him leading the way, of course, so that she could watch those sexy buns of his move inside his pants while he walked.

They would enter the office together, and close the door behind them. Without saying a word, he would peel his shirt over his head, revealing a toned, tanned chest and sexy abs; he had just the right amount of hair - light around his pecs and continuing all the way down into his khakis.

His hand would move down to his waist, undoing the button on his pants, lowering the zipper. This was about the time she would step forward, take hold of the pants on either side, and pull them down over his hips.

The automatic door jerked Susan out of her trance.

It was the woman who had been filling up her van. "I was on pump 3," she said. "I didn't get a receipt."

Susan forced a smile and printed out a copy for the woman, who took it and left.

Sighing, she returned to watching out the window for Dan to arrive.

* * * * *

It was shaping up to be an ordinary day at the Fuel Mart.

Dan arrived and was his usual, obnoxious self almost immediately. Susan was ringing up customers, and Dan was rattling on about some girl whom he had met at a bar the night or the weekend before. Susan wasn't really listening.

It was one of those stories that Dan would often tell, but Susan was never quite sure why. She couldn't be less interested in what he was saying, yet somehow he never noticed, or else he noticed but didn't care.

What guy talks about his almost-sexual exploits to a female co-worker who's nearly forty, and then expects her to be interested rather than offended? And for a manager to act that way?

A little later, he was standing up front again with Susan, gathering money from the safe. A young woman, probably around Dan's age was in the store, browsing by the soda coolers. Dan nudged Susan and gestured with a flick of his head towards the woman. "There's a nice one," he said, under his breath.

Susan wanted to smack him - did he think that she was one of his buddies? And he did that all the time - pointing out the attractive customers, and making rude remarks about the ones he felt weren't as attractive.

When he finished collecting the money from the safe, Dan announced that he was going to the office. "Tell that hottie to join me back there," he whispered to Susan, with a wink.

"I'll tell her," she replied, pretending his remark had been humorous.

After the exchange, things grew quiet again while Dan was in the back office, but Susan knew that inevitably he would return to the sales floor. A little before two in the afternoon, Dan returned from the back office. "I'm going to the bank," he announced.

Susan watched him walk to his car, wishing that the cute ass that he had in his pants was attached to someone else. It was impossible for her to deny - if his mouth and his attitude didn't spoil everything, her young, cocky boss was actually quite a hunk.

After thirty minutes had passed, Dan still wasn't back, even though the bank was less than five minutes away. When a car pulled into the far end of the parking lot, it wasn't her boss, but rather, her relief, Alyssa.

Susan watched the girl walk across the lot towards the store and smiled - she couldn't wait to get out of here. If they hurried their exchange, she might be gone before Dan returned.

Alyssa entered the store waving to Susan, and went to the office to clock in. Susan rang up another customer while she waited; a moment later, Alyssa returned from the office and came to stand beside her.

They chatted for a couple of minutes while Alyssa signed on to a register. As usual, Alyssa began talking about boys.

Susan had to remind herself that Alyssa was still just a girl - just three weeks ago, she had celebrated her eighteenth birthday. She was still a senior in high school, and probably very popular, thought Susan.

Alyssa was very pretty, and she had the kind of knock-out body that Susan herself had once had. She still kept fit and in shape, but oh to be eighteen again, Susan thought, and all smooth skin and curves!

The men definitely noticed Alyssa here in the Fuel Mart, even in her unflattering uniform. Just now, an older gentleman paying for his gas flicked his eyes quickly across the teenager's body while she rang him up. Boys closer to Alyssa's age were always in the store chatting her up, trying to figure out how to land her in bed, no doubt. Even their pig boss, Dan, was often eyeballing the teen's shape when he thought no one was looking. Such a pervert, Susan thought, shaking her head. The girl only just turned eighteen!

As if made real by her thoughts, she saw that Dan was now back from the bank and was on his way into the store. A second guy, around the same age as Dan, Susan figured, entered the store with him.

"There's my lovely ladies," Dan called out, as he joined them behind the counter. Susan watched as his eyes darted to Alyssa's backside.

The teen finished with a customer and then greeted Dan, smiling in a way he no doubt took as provocative. Susan frowned, and Dan as if sensing her thoughts, turned to her.

"Still here, Susan?"

Without waiting for an answer, he put a hand on Alyssa's shoulder. With his other hand, he indicated the customer approaching the counter. It was the man he had entered with.

"I've got this one," Dan said, taking Alyssa's place in front of the register. "Can you go make a pot coffee, sweetie?"

Alyssa nodded, removing Dan's hand from her shoulder, and left the front counter area. As she passed, she met the older woman's eyes and Susan could read the meaning there. Their boss grossed her out and she hated it when he touched her. Susan smiled reassuringly as the teen passed, but inside she fumed.

Dan began ringing up the man who had entered the store with him. Judging by the way they spoke, they were clearly buddies.

As Susan watched, her boss rather blatantly failed to ring up the case of beer that the man had brought to the counter. Taking the man's money for only a bag of chips, Dan gave him some change.

Both men were laughing, acting like nothing had happened. She heard Dan say, "...yeah, if you get enough of these beers in her," and then begin laughing harder. Susan couldn't believe the guy's nerve.

After his friend left, Dan turned towards Susan. "Still here?" he asked, again. "Go home." He smiled.

Unable to let what she had just witnessed pass, Susan came closer to Dan and lowered her voice.

"You didn't charge that guy for his alcohol," she said.

"What? That guy?" he asked, seeming oblivious. "Yeah, he's just a friend, that's all - I told him I'd take care of it."

Susan frowned, knowing he aimed to do no such thing.

"If I did that you'd fire me," she said.

"I wouldn't fire you Susan," he grinned, joking. "I might just punish you a little."

"But you just let him walk out without paying!" She couldn't let it drop. "That's stealing."

"Stealing? Don't be so dramatic. Stuff gets taken all the time - we can't stop it all. And a corporation like this? Fuel Mart just writes that shit off. No one cares about another thing or two of beer going missing."

"What about Pam?" Susan spoke without thinking.

Pam was the District Manager - Dan's boss. The name came out of her mouth before she could stop it. Hopefully Dan wouldn't think she was trying to threaten him.

Dan, however, didn't even blink.

"Pam?" He snorted. "Pam's not gonna find out. Things always get stolen - there's always a shortage. The store I was at before was running almost three hundred dollars shortage every month - and it was mostly all alcohol. Of course, that place was a shithole, but still..." He paused to chuckle. "I'm not afraid of Pam." He laughed a bit more.

Susan wanted to shake sense into the man, tell him he was stealing, but Dan wasn't done, yet.

"Pam needs to loosen up. She's so serious all the time - as if that scares me? She's like my mom or something." He grinned wide. "What's she gonna do if she finds out, spank me?"

Susan's eyes widened. Now that, she thought, imagining her cocky boss laid across the lap of the district manager and getting a good, pants-down bottom thrashing, was something she would like to see! She could almost hear the sounds of the smacks as they landed on that delicious, bare ass of his. Suddenly, she felt faint!

In front of her, Dan was still talking: "Of course, nobody here should be stealing." He looked at Susan. "Do as I say, not as I do and all that."

Susan thought he was finally done talking, but after a moment he continued. "I'll tell you what Pam needs." He smiled wide. "Pam needs the spanking! That would loosen her up."

Laughing, he turned and walked away, leaving Susan gaping.

A moment later, Alyssa returned from making coffee and stood beside her. "What was that all about?" the teen asked.

Susan didn't answer right away. Her mind had returned to the image of a moment earlier. Their boss, Dan, with his pants and undies pushed down around his ankles, laid out across the lap of the stern district manager, and receiving the spanking he so rightfully deserved.

Suddenly, another thought came into Susan's head. What if it wasn't Pam delivering the spanking? "What if it was me?"

"What if what was you?" Alyssa asked.

Susan shook her head, trying to clear the beautiful image forming there. She was beginning to get an idea. A wonderfully devilish, delicious idea. She turned to Alyssa.

"That guy that was just in here - the one that came in here with Dan. Ever seen him before?"

"Yeah, he comes in sometimes."

"Does Dan always wait on him like that?" Susan needed to know - if this wasn't just a one time thing...

Alyssa thought for a moment and then nodded. "Yeah, actually. He's done that with other people he knows, too." The young girl nodded. "Yeah, he does that a lot, actually. Why?"

"Hmm? Oh, no reason."

Susan smiled at Alyssa, but inwardly, she was grinning ear to ear. In her imagination, she was already seated on a chair, rubbing the quickly reddening, bare skin of her boss's ass, as he lay helpless across her lap. And he was pleading.

Dan Wilson, her boss, was laying across her lap, pleading with her to stop spanking him.

Suddenly feeling very horny, Susan quickly said goodbye to the pretty teenager, and rushed out of the store.

Later that night, she began to work out the details of her idea - hopefully, she could turn that image in her mind into the real thing!

* * * * *

That weekend, Susan was ready to put her plan into motion.

As assistant manager at the Fuel Mart, she was responsible for coming in Saturday and Sunday mornings - Dan's days off - to do the daily reports and count the money. It was boring work, but easy.

More important, she had total access to the back office - including the store's surveillance system - for as long as she needed without disruption.

The previous store manager, Robert, had been quite thorough in his instruction, and now, as she fiddled with the surveillance program, she was thankful. For instance, she knew that the system was set up to cache thirty days worth of footage at a time. She also knew the password needed to access that footage and how to use the software.

That Saturday, after she finished her work for the morning, she reached into her purse and pulled out a portable hard drive. After a little fussing, she had it hooked up to the computer that ran the surveillance cameras, and began downloading the entire cache of daily recordings.

Since Dan had only been at the store for a little over three weeks, his entire tenure would still be in the computer's memory. If Alyssa was right, and Dan had been letting his friends walk off without paying for things, then this downloaded footage would show it all.

That night, in the comfort of her home, she began going through the downloaded footage from the store's security cameras. She was able to fast forward through large chunks and entire days, looking only for those periods when Dan was in the store. During the hours when Dan was in the store, she would run through the video slower, watching for any instances when Dan was working at a register, ringing up customers.

It was tedious work, but she slowly made her way through the footage. Every time she found a spot where Dan was making a sale, she would note the timestamp on the video.

Armed with a list of transaction times, she could go into the store's sales history, and bring up receipts for each of those sales. If any items visible on the security video were missing from the receipts, such as the case of beer that she had watched him give away, Susan would find them.

And when she did... Her cheeks reddened as she let herself imagine what she could do once she had that information. She had a variety of naughty ideas involving things she might do to her young, arrogant boss. Susan smiled - mostly, she imagined what she might do to the young stud's tantalizing buns.

It took Susan almost the whole week, but finally she made it through all the long hours of video. Now, she had a list with all of Dan's transactions, which she was eager to check against the sales history.

* * * * *

On Friday, as she worked her shift at the Fuel Mart, she could barely contain her excitement for the weekend ahead. Once she was alone in the office, she would be able to go through the transaction histories. She just KNEW she would find the evidence she needed to nail her arrogant boss.

Speaking of...

"Someone's in a good mood, today," said Dan, coming to stand by the front counter.

Susan blushed, realizing that she had been humming to herself as she stocked the cigarettes.

Dan leaned over the counter towards her, lowering his voice. "Did someone get a little action last night?" he asked, grinning. "Good for you, Susan."

Susan grimaced, but forced herself to chuckle at her boss. "What? Me? I'm just in good mood is all."

Dan nodded, and smiled wide. "I'll bet you are," he said, and winked. "Don't worry - it's our secret."

He indicated the bag in his hand and said, "I'm headed to the bank."

"I'll be right here," she told him.

Inwardly, she grinned - the unsuspecting pig couldn't know it, but she would be getting some hot action very soon indeed - from him!

She watched him leave, eyeing the tight, round butt tucked into his pants.

Susan felt the excitement in her rise to a fever pitch - tomorrow she would start to dig through those receipts, and she was confident she would find more than just the single instance of Dan giving away store merchandise. Once she did, she would have her boss right where she wanted him. A simple phone call to the district manager, Pam, and Dan would be finished.

Of course, that's not what she wanted to happen.

Hopefully, he would try to bargain with her, to stop her from calling Pam, and to save his job.

The blush returned to Susan's face as her imagination started up again. She didn't want Dan to get fired - at least, not right away.

What Susan wanted was her cocky, young hunk-of-a-boss laying across her lap, with his bared, round tush sticking up in the air. Asking for a spanking. Asking for her to spank his ass.

Then, she wanted to turn that cute, little butt of his a lovely shade of red.

That was her hope.

* * * * *

Saturday morning, Susan counted the money and finished the report as quickly as she could. She spent the rest of her shift alone in the office, logged into the store's sales records. Armed with the list of Dan's transactions, which she had gathered from the security videos, she printed out the corresponding receipts.

She also fast-forwarded through the security footage from the week which had just passed, to search for more of Dan's transactions. After zipping through those five days of video and noting the times of the sales Dan had made, she printed up more receipts and downloaded the matching video for comparison.

When she returned home, she would compare what Dan had actually rung up through the register, with what was actually being purchased. If he was giving things away, those items would not be listed on the receipt, but would appear in the video footage.

Spurred on by the images in her mind of the pants-down spanking she would give her boss, she breezed through the monotonous work. By the end of the weekend, she had gone through every single transaction Dan had made at a cash register, checking the receipts against the video.

Right away, she had found a discrepancy - another case of beer. Then, she found two bottles of wine.

Her heart began pounding in her ears.

Another case of beer! Some car care products! Her face felt flushed. Next, was the case of beer which had started the whole affair.

Looking closely at the image of Dan in the video footage, a huge grin came over Susan's face. She had him right where she wanted him.

Oh please, she thought, let him end up right where she wanted him!

Finally, from the most recent week's footage, there was another bottle of wine and a small case of beer. Susan was stunned - this was even after she had confronted him about giving away store product!

The poor, deluded jerk, thought Susan. He must really believe he could do whatever he pleased.

She rubbed her hands together like an evil genius. He might have brushed her off before, she thought, but he wasn't going to brush her off now!

In a way, Susan thought, he had helped choose his own punishment: when she had confronted him about stealing - and what he was doing, she believed, was a form of stealing - it was Dan who first mentioned spanking.

Susan smiled - it wasn't his boss, Pam, who would be spanking him, however. She licked her lips, as she imagined running her hands over Dan's sexy, bare butt - it would be her.

Then, Susan remembered, in that same conversation, Dan had also mentioned a spanking for Pam. Such disrespect!

Perhaps, she considered, Pam deserved a crack at his hot ass, too. However, the district manager's reaction was difficult for Susan to gauge - she may just fire Dan. Then, Susan would lose this amazing opportunity, and Dan would escape his bare-assed spanking.

Susan couldn't risk letting that happen. She would just have to give Dan a few swats on Pam's behalf!

And Pam wasn't the only one Dan had talked about giving a spanking to. Only a few days after he had arrived at their store, he learned that Alyssa had just celebrated her eighteenth birthday.

As Susan stood nearby, counting the money in her register, she heard Dan exclaim, "You mean, I missed it?"

"Yep. Sorry," came Alyssa's short response. Susan smiled, remembering - the teenager had disliked Dan right away.

"That's okay," Dan said. "It isn't too late to celebrate. Come by the office and I'll give you your birthday spanking." He laughed. "Eighteen swats?"

"Um, no thanks."

"Hey, we can do it right here if you prefer." He glanced at the customer, a middle-aged man, whom Alyssa was ringing up. "What do you say, buddy - sound good?"

The middle aged man shrugged; Alyssa blushed.

Susan was disgusted, but she held her tongue. Dan laughed like the whole episode was hilarious, and then strode away from the front counter, towards the office.

Susan decided Alyssa would love a chance to give her pervert boss a spanking.

Of course, Alyssa was only eighteen and still in high school. She was a nice girl, but if Susan let her participate in Dan's punishment, she may end up gossiping with her high school friends, and that could lead to all kinds of trouble.

No, Alyssa must be kept in the dark, as well.

That would be the tricky part, since Susan wanted the spanking to happen in the back office at the Fuel Mart - how much more humiliating would it be for Dan, she thought, then to have one of his female employees give him an over-the-knee, bare-assed spanking, right there in his office?

Susan was getting horny again, when she suddenly remembered something else. Dan had once even suggested that SHE receive a spanking!

It was about two and a half weeks ago - she had finished counting the money in her register after a shift, and she was five dollars short. Dan, trying to unsuccessfully to flirt with Alyssa, looked over.

"Stealing cash again, Susan?"

"I'm missing five bucks," Susan admitted.

"If you need five dollars so bad, you could just ask me," he laughed. "I'd lend it to you. Otherwise, you know, I'll have to punish you. I am the boss around here."

She ignored him, and began going over her numbers again - she knew she wasn't missing money.

"I think a spanking would be a good punishment for theft," Dan was saying. "Maybe a swat for every dollar missing - that seems fair."

"Found it!" Susan announced. "I forgot to include my coupons." She breathed a sigh of relief - she hated making mistakes.

"The offer still stands," Dan said, grinning.

That moment hadn't made much of an impression on her at the time - Dan was always saying perverted, obnoxious stuff - but suddenly, as she sat in her living room, with all of her research into Dan's mis-deeds complete, that conversation took on new meaning.

A swat for every dollar, Dan had said. Susan liked the sound of that.

She looked back over the list - all the items Dan had given away - and she grinned. He might try to say he never stole anything, but he was responsible for these missing items. And missing items meant missing money. Pam certainly wouldn't make a distinction - Dan was responsible for missing money, period.

A swat for every dollar, then, Susan thought.

She felt her face becoming flushed again. She would have to check the prices in the store to be sure, but it looked like Dan had given away close to one hundred dollars worth of merchandise!

That was one hundred swats on her boss's bare ass!

She lay awake in bed Sunday night for a long time, too horny to sleep.

 * * * * *

Want to Read More? Please Check out these links to purchase the rest of the story!

Available as a slim paperback. Buy it!
Get it for the Kindle or as a paperback from Amazon.
All other electronic formats (pdf, epub, & more) available from Smashwords.
Also available from Kobo, Barnes & Noble, and more.

The String Bikini Spanking

The most embarrassing moment of my life happened when I was a senior in high school. I received a spanking in front of my younger brother and two of his little, creep friends. They saw me practically naked—wearing nothing but a tiny, string bikini—as I lay across my father's lap. They ended up seeing even more than that.

The worst part was, it was all my own fault.

I had just turned eighteen. In a few months, I would be finished with high school forever. But of more immediate interest: in just a week I would be headed down to the Florida panhandle for Spring Break.

My parents, in a huge change of attitude, had given in and allowed me to travel with Cindy and Stephanie, two of my best friends, down to the coast for an entire week. Normally, my parents were very strict about letting me do anything—let alone going unsupervised to Spring Break—but I had made a deal with them. Keep all my grades up and they would consider it.

My straight A's made it impossible for them to say no.

"Alright, Lindsey," said my mom. "Your father and I are going to trust you, and let you go on the trip. But you have to promise to be safe and to be smart."

"Yes, Mom."

"No drinking."

"Yes, Mom."

"No drugs."

"Yes, Mom."

"No boys."


"I mean it, Lindsey. Don't make us regret this."

But before I ever even left to go to Florida, I had let my mother and father down. They were disappointed in me, but I was the one who regretted it. Big time.

It was all because of the bikini.

I wanted something super hot and sexy to wear while we were in Florida. I had been working out and watching my diet for the whole year, and I was really beginning to feel good about my body. My belly was flat, my breasts had filled in nicely, and as I stood looking at myself naked in the mirror—wide hips, long legs, round butt—I thought, not half bad, Linds.

Guys told me I was cute all the time. I didn't even wear much make-up. I had long blond hair, which I was just as happy wearing down as I was tying up.

I ran my hands over my curves, cupped my breasts, enjoying their perkiness, patted my tight ass. The only thing was, I hadn't been able to get rid of my tanlines. I knew that the tiny bikini I wanted would show them off, but I hoped that I might get a day or two before we left to hit the tanning salon.

But first, I had to get the bikini.

I had ordered it online. It was super cute and daringly tiny. Red and green, barely more than strings. Tiny patches of fabric for the breasts, for the crotch. Almost a thong in the back. I'd never worn anything like it, but I daydreamed about slipping it on, feeling extra sexy, turning heads on the Florida beaches.

Every day, I was the first one home—my mother and father both worked until the early evening—and my little brother, Billy, never paid any attention to the mail. No one sends thirteen-year-olds mail.

So I was pretty confident that when the package with the bikini came, I would be the one to get it. Apparently, the universe wanted to teach me a lesson.

Mom had a half day from work.

I came home from school, checked for the mail. There wasn't any. I walked in the house and Mom greeted me with a package in her hand.

"Looking for this?"

I tried playing innocent.

"What's that?"

"It's a package for you."

"Oh, thanks," I said. I reached out for it.

"Care to tell me what you ordered?"

"Hmm? Oh, just some new socks."

"New socks?" I didn't know, but I'd already sprung the trap. I was caught.


"New socks from Sexy Swimwear? Sexy with three X's?"

My mouth was suddenly dry. I swallowed.

"Why don't you open it right here," my mom said. It wasn't a question.

I tore open the package and pulled out a plastic bag. I reached in, pulled out the bikini. It was hard to see the shape of the thing. It was practically all strings.

My mother kind of lost it. She grabbed the bikini out of my hand, held it up, looked at it from a variety of angles.

"You were going to wear this? Lindsey. I'm shocked."

"I didn't realize it was so small," I said. It was actually true, but she didn't believe me. I had ordered the bikini with the expectation that it would be tiny. But actually seeing it was something else. Anyway, my mother wasn't buying my denial.

"You ordered a bikini from a place called Sexxxy Swimwear. What did you expect?"

I opened my mouth, but there wasn't anything to say.

"To your room," said my mother.

Her face was an angry mask. I wanted to ask if I was still going to be allowed to go to Florida. I mean, she seemed that mad. But I didn't even want to bring it up.

I went to my room, cheeks burning from embarrassment. My mother must think I'm a total slut, I thought. And the trip to Florida. If she wanted, she could tell my father and once he saw that bikini, I might not even be allowed out of the house again until I went to college in the fall, let alone Florida. But the hotel was already paid for, I thought miserably.

I sat on my bed and texted with Cindy for while. Mom is so pissed, I told her. Dad home soon. If I'm still alive, will talk 2 u later.

Eventually my father did get home. I would still be alive after he was done with me, but I would be wishing I were dead. The shame and humiliation about to be heaped upon me was still in the future.

In the meantime, I lay on my bed and closed my eyes.

I woke up to my father rapping on my bedroom door.

"Lindsey. Come downstairs. We're going to have a talk."

This was it, I thought. I waited until I heard his footsteps going back downstairs, then I got up. Looked at myself in the mirror. On my way to the gallows.

I opened my door and stepped out into the hallway. I heard obnoxious giggling from the neighboring room. My little brother's room. When I walked past, I glanced inside. My brother was there, along with two of his friends from the neighborhood: Mark and Scott. The three boys looked at me as I walked past, grins on their faces.

"Someone's in trouble," said my brother Billy.

Mark and Scott watched me with perverted eyes, studied my tanned legs, their gazes not so subtlely moving across my ass and up to check out my breasts. Creeps. I was wearing a T-shirt and shorts, but somehow I felt naked.

I hurried downstairs, found my mother and father waiting for me in the living room. The plastic bag from Sexxxy Swimwear which contained the micro bathing suit was in my father's hands. He was sitting on the couch. My mother stood near the sliding door to the patio, looking at me with those disappointed eyes.

"Looks like we were wrong to trust you, Young Lady," said my father. He shook his head as he reached into the bag, pulled out the tiny, string bikini. "Care to explain this."

"I didn't think it would be that small." I saw his eyes narrow, as my mother's had earlier. "I didn't. I knew it was a little risque." His eyes narrowed further at that word. "I mean, it’s not too risque. I mean—"

"Not too risque? I'd hate to see what you do consider risque." He shook the cotton strings. "This is beyond inappropriate. You should be embarrassed to even think about wearing something like this. I thought we taught you better."

"Dad . . ."

"Clearly, you need to be shown what is and isn't appropriate to wear. Your mother and I talked about it and we agree." He held the bikini towards me. "You're going to go upstairs and put this on. And then take a good long look in the mirror."

"You want me to put it on?"

"Take a good look in the mirror at yourself. And then you're going to come down here and apologize for buying it. Apologize for thinking so little of yourself that you would even consider prancing around a public beach in such a thing. And then you're going to tell us why you think it's inappropriate. See if it's getting through your head. Understand?"

"You want me to put the bikini on?"

"That's what I said. And then look at yourself in the mirror. Really look. And after you come downstairs and apologize, we can talk about your punishment."

"Punishment?" I knew it. They weren't going to let me go to Florida. Hundreds of dollars—tickets and hotel—down the drain.

"Fine," I said. I snatched the string bikini from his hand and stomped up the stairs, past my brother's room and his friend's leering eyes, and into my room. I slammed the door behind me and then looked at the bikini in my hand.

Everything was screwed up and that pissed me off. I felt sick. But looking at those little bits of string and fabric, I found myself becoming strangely curious. I wanted to try the bikini on. I couldn't wait to see myself in it.

Because despite what I had told my mother and father, I knew it was going to be small when I bought it. That's why I bought it.

Suddenly excited, I tossed the bathing suit on my bed, began tearing off my clothes.

*     *     *

Once I had the bikini on, strings tied and all the fabric(and there wasn't much!) covering the correct spots, I looked at myself in the mirror as I had been instructed to do.

My God, I thought. I looked really, really hot. I felt sexy. I felt amazing. The bikini top strained against my young, full breasts, just barely concealing my nipples and areola. The pale skin of my breasts spilled out on every side, peeked out underneath the fabric. It made my boobs look even bigger, held them up, lifted and centered, with a wedge of sexy cleavage. I'd never felt so impressed by my chest.

And the bottoms. Wow. The pale tanline of my old bikini was visible all around, a white shadow around my hips, wider than the tiny string bikini I now wore. My round ass, barely covered by the new bikini, looked fantastic. I ran my hand over my bottom, lifted and let bounce the tight cheeks. The bare cheeks. The only covering, hardly more than a thong, rode up between them, disappeared to almost nothing, plunged into my crack.

It looked exactly how I imagined when I bought it. Better even. I felt sexier than I ever had before. So hot. My cheeks felt warm; there was a tingling between my thighs, which I longed to soothe with my fingers. Except—

"Lindsey." Banging on the door, my father called in to me. "That's long enough. Have you put it on?"

"Yes," I called through the door.

"Good, then get downstairs. It's time for us to discuss your punishment."

I hung my head. I couldn't believe the trip was all messed up, that today of all days my mother had come home early and the package had arrived. Like the universe was conspiring against me.

"Alright," I called. "Gimme a minute to change."

"Don't change. I want you downstairs wearing that abomination. Understand?"

"Dad!" I couldn't wear this outside my room. I was practically naked. "I can't. I mean, I have to put on some more clothes."

"Downstairs! Right now. As you are."

"Dad, I—"

"Not another word, Lindsey. Your mother and I will be waiting."

I heard him walk away down the hallway, then his footsteps loud on the stairs. I stared after him, looking blankly at my bedroom door.

I couldn't go out there looking like this. My reflection in the mirror caught my attention. I suddenly didn't feel as sexy. I felt naked. Almost completely naked. And my brother, I thought. Horrified, I realized that Mark and Scott, his two friends, those two little pervs that were always staring at me like they were picturing me naked, were here.

If they saw me like this, I thought, wildly, they would barely need their imaginations. My entire body was very nearly on display. I thought I might die right there if they saw me wearing so little. The times they had seen me in my much more modest bikini, I felt dirty long after they were gone. Now, this.

I couldn't go out there like this. But my father and mother were waiting downstairs. I suddenly understood a little bit why they were angry. I was embarrassed to be seen wearing my new bikini.

My eyes scanned my room quickly, fell upon a towel hanging from the hook on the wall behind my door. The towel from my last shower, big enough to wrap around myself. It would cover me from my chest down to my knees. I grabbed it off the hook, wrapped it around my exposed body. Tucked under my armpits, it covered everything completely. Still sort of embarrassing, especially knowing that I would have to cross in front of my brother's room. Maybe they wouldn't be looking. It would be only a second.

Taking a deep breath, my near-nudity covered by the towel, I opened my door and stepped out into the hallway.

*     *     *

My luck wasn't good. Just the way this day was going, and it was only going to get worse. Much worse.

I crept down the hallway—I should have just hurried along—and as I reached the open door of my brother's room, I peeked in. The three young boys were seated on the floor in front of my brother's television, video game controllers in hand. Except their eyes were all up and focused on me as I passed the doorway.

I lingered long enough to see the eyes of those two little pervs, Mark and Scott, grow wide. How much had they heard of my father's angry speech downstairs and then a moment earlier at my door? Did these two creeps know just how little I was wearing underneath the towel? I felt so naked.

Their eyes never leaving my body, I rushed past and down the stairs.

As I entered the living room, my father was back on the couch and my mother was still standing near the sliding door to the back porch. They had been talking but when I appeared they broke off their conversation. My father looked at me, eyes narrowing.

"What are you wearing, Lindsey?"

"I'm wearing the bikini. Geez, Dad. I had to put a towel on. Billy has friends over."

"Take that towel off right now."


In the privacy of my own room, with the door shut and locked, that was one thing. But he was asking me to drop the towel right here in the living room, with nothing on but this micro string bikini. How could I? With two little horny boys in the house with my brother?

"I said lose the towel, young lady. Now." He stood up, as if he intended to come over and remove the towel physically.

"But . . . " I lowered my voice, because I didn't want the boys listening to what was going on. "But Billy's friends are here."

"What's the matter?" asked my mother. "Feeling a little shy in your new bikini? Do you see why we're upset?"

"I do," I told her.

"Remove the towel, Lindsey," said my father. "Do it now."

"But Mark and Scott."

"What about them?"

"What if they see me?"

"They're upstairs. Besides, how many people would have seen you in that bikini on the beach in Florida?" asked my mother.

"But that's different."

"How is it different?"

"It's . . ." I couldn't think of anything.

"The only difference," said my mother, "is that those would have been strangers seeing you. Boys you didn't even know. Boys who had a lot of bad ideas in their heads. Getting the wrong idea from your slut suit."


"You know your brother's friends, and yet you're embarrassed. Those strange boys would have seen your whole body and that doesn't even bother you? I'm afraid we raised you poorly."


"Lindsey." My father was growing angrier. "Don't make me tell you again."

"Fine," I said. I was getting angrier, too. Slut suit? Raised poorly?

I reached down and undid the towel, tossed it onto the floor. I stood there before my parents, wearing the tiniest of string bikinis. My mother actually gasped and put a hand to her mouth. My father simply shook his head.

"There's absolutely no way you're stepping outside in that," he said. "Look at yourself."

"I did, Dad."

"Your mother and I are very disappointed in you. We need to hear an apology. Come on."

"What should I apologize for? I'm sorry that I bought this bikini?"

"You can apologize for that, and for letting us down. We agreed to let you go on this trip. We trusted your judgment, but I guess that was a mistake."

"Geez, you guys. It's just a bikini. And I am sorry I bought it. Now everything's messed up. I assume I won't be going to Florida?"

"We can talk about that later," my father told me.

"Just a bikini?" my mother said. "Just a bikini? You're apparently ashamed enough of that bikini that you have to wear a towel over it in your own house."

"That's because of Mark and Scott."

"What about them?" asked my mother.

"What about them? I don't want them to see me like this."

"And why not?"

"Because . . . " I wanted to say because they're perverts. But I suddenly thought, I'm the one wearing the bikini. If they stare at my body, it's only because I'm displaying it. Was I actually starting to see my mother's point of view?

"I shouldn't have bought the bikini," I said. I looked at my father. "I'm sorry."

He stared at me for a moment, and then nodded. "That sounded sincere. Apology accepted." He turned to face my mother. "Ruth?"

"I think she's starting to understand."

"So can I go back upstairs now?"

"There's still your punishment to discuss."

"My punishment? Can I at least put the towel back on?"

"Consider this part of your punishment," my mother said. "You have to wear the bikini that you bought. Terrible, isn't it?"

"Ok, then," I said, trying to sound confident. I felt horribly exposed standing there in the tiny bathing suit in my living room. The string was riding up my crack and the air all across my nearly nude body was giving me goosebumps. "What else? Am I grounded? I assume I can't go on the trip. Anything else?"

"This is important," my father said. "You broke your trust with your mother and I; and you buying this bikini, your wanting to wear this crude thing out in public is disturbing. We need to make sure you understand that this is completely inappropriate behaviour for a young lady. Which is what you are now. So we have to make sure you get this through your head. Not acceptable behavior."

"Alright," I said. "So what? No phone, no internet?"

He shook his head.

"What? No car?"

Instead of answering, he turned and walked to the couch, and then sat down. From there, he returned his hard eyes to me.

I looked from him to my mom and then back again.


"Come here, Lindsey. Lay down across my lap."


"Right now, Young Lady."

I used to get a spanking sometimes when I did something really extra terrible. I probably hadn't gotten one since I was twelve or thirteen. I was eighteen now! My father couldn't seriously be—

"Lindsey, get over here right now and lie down across my lap. You need to be taught this lesson. Right now. Over my lap."

My father's stern voice, the most commanding and angered tone he ever used, pulled me across the room, moving my feet almost without my input. The towel lay discarded where I dropped it. I approached my father, stood before him wearing nothing but the tiny bikini which had gotten me into this whole mess. Like the little girl who still remembered having her bottom spanked, I stood with my head down in front of my father. I crossed my arms over my nearly bare body.

He patted his lap.

"Let's get this over with," he said, impatient. "Come on."

He reached a hand up towards me. I let him take ahold of one of my wrists, pull me forward and then down.

My mind reeling, I found myself laid across my father's lap, wearing nothing but a tiny, string bikini. My bare behind, covered by little more than a thong, stuck up in the air. I felt like a guilty little kid lying there, not an eighteen year-old high school senior, only a couple months from finishing school.

"Alright, Lindsey," said my father. "Here's how this is going to work. I'm going to—"

Only he didn't get a chance to finish.

"What's going on?" The worst sound I could imagine.

My little brother's voice.

"Is Lindsey getting spanked?" He sounded excited and amused. And then I heard a noise fit for my worst nightmares. The unmistakable giggle of my brother's friend, Mark. I glanced over my shoulder, saw all three thirteen-year-old boys—my brother, Mark, and Scott—halfway down the steps, mouths open, eyes wide, staring at me.

My God, I thought, I was nearly naked! Lying across my father's lap, my almost-bare ass up in the air, wearing practically nothing.

I began struggling, which unfortunately drew my father's attention—and his anger—away from my brother and back on to me.

"Lindsey!" His voice was a harsh bark. "Stop that this instant."

I was kicking my legs and trying to scramble off his lap, to hide somewhere. Find some place to disappear, hopefully forever. This was beyond humiliating.

Only, it was just beginning.

"I said, stop," my father ordered, and then SMACK! His hand came down on my exposed bottom and I let out a yelp and an indignant curse.

"Such language," my mother said, and I could hear the shaking of her head, even if I didn't see it.

One of the watching boys snickered. Oh God.

"Dad, stop," I cried. "I need to cover up. Dad, please."

"That," he said, "is exactly the lesson you need to be learning."

And then SMACK! Another spank landed. SMACK! Another.

"They're watching," I cried. "Please!"

But I was being ignored.

At least, by my father I was being ignored.

I glanced back over my shoulder, then squeezed my eyes shut, immediately wished that I hadn't looked.

My brother was watching with his mouth open in disbelief.

His two friends were standing right there with him. Eyes wide, mouths split into enormous grins, watching as I—their friend's older sister, eighteen year-old Lindsey Malone, whom I know they lusted for, drooled over, fantasized about—lay across her father's lap wearing nothing but a red and green string bikini and received a spanking on her thong-exposed bare ass.


I kicked feebly. I grabbed a hold of my father's pants. I cried out in pain and humiliation with each blow that landed on my delicate backside. SMACK!

"Dad, please!"


"Make them go upstairs!"


He answered, "What's the matter?" SMACK! "Embarrassed to be seen in your new bikini?"


Young boys giggling.






And my father's hand SMACK! came down again and again SMACK! on my jiggling, reddening, fully exposed cheeks.






*     *     *

After two dozen or more hard spanks had landed on my exposed bottom, I noticed with growing horror that after all my squirming and struggling, the tiny bikini top had shifted and my bare breasts were hanging out, jiggling and bouncing.



"Dad, I need to fix my top. Please, they can see everything."

"That's what happens," he said, "when you wear such revealing things."


Then, instead of helping me fix my top, or giving me a chance to cover myself back up, I felt my father grip me tightly around my waist with the hand which had been spanking me. Suddenly his other hand was pulling at the strings on my back and at my neck which tied my bikini top.

"What are you doing?" I shouted.

But with a few quick yanks, the suit was untied. It dropped off my body, landed on the carpet at my father's feet. I reached out and grabbed it, but I was still laid across my father's lap and there wasn't anything I could do besides lay there, holding the discarded bikini top.

Now instead of my breasts partially exposed, I was completely topless.


I knew my brother's two friends, Mark and Scott, were getting a good eyeful and my face was turning hot and red to match my sore, spanked butt.

Once more, my father adjusted my positioning, switching me from one arm to the other, and then I felt the horrifying sensation of his big fingers working at the strings holding my bottoms together.

I began kicking furiously. "What are you doing? Not with them here, please! You can't! I'll be naked! Don't let them watch, please!"

"For someone who was planning to prance all around a public beach with hundreds of strangers watching, you've certainly gotten awfully shy."

I felt the knot on my left hip come undone, the strings dropping limp against the skin of my thigh. His fingers moved to the other side. I struggled trying to keep the tied strings away from him. I must have been putting on quite a show for the little perverts watching, twisting and sticking my spanked round ass up in the air.


"Stop squirming," my father said, momentarily pausing in his attempt to untie the bikini.

"Please," I said again, "I'll be naked."

At last, my mother spoke up on my behalf. Addressing my brother, she said, "What exactly are you boys doing down here, just standing there?"

"W-we were just coming down to get some ginger ale," my brother stammered, perhaps sensing that he might be getting into trouble.

"I don't see a refrigerator in here," my mother said, sternly. "Get in the kitchen if that's what you're after, and then go to your room." Thanks, Mom, but a little late, I thought.

"Yes ma'am."

I glanced over my shoulder, cheeks burning with shame as the boys began moving the rest of the way downstairs. All three kept stealing quick peeks in my direction. I knew they could see almost everything. My spanked, red cheeks. My bared breasts hanging beneath me. Practically every inch of my young, tanned body was naked before their probing eyes. And my father was working on the last bit of covering I had.

As the three boys disappeared into the kitchen, my father's fingers yank the knot at my right hip loose. I felt the strings drop uselessly against my skin, and then a second later, the untied bikini bottoms were pulled right off my body and tossed onto the floor near my head. I could see them, a few feet away, and felt air on my naked body.

My naked body.

Oh God, I thought. I was now bare-assed naked, across my father's lap, and being spanked like a bad little girl. Even though I was eighteen! And my brother and his two little creep friends had seen it all. Almost. At least they hadn't seen—




It began again, my father punishing my already reddened backside with more spanks. This time, my jiggling cheeks were completely bared, my naked breasts swung free. My kicking and squirming no doubt was flashing my most private spot for all to see.

I reached back with one hand, trying to shield my aching bottom. My father took ahold of my wrist, pinned my arm behind me.



And right then, the three boys came back into the room. I saw them, each carrying a can of ginger ale, eyes wide as they now saw me stripped fully naked, an arm pinned behind me, my humiliating spanking continuing.


Every single inch of my body. On full display.


I squeezed my eyes shut.

I could still see the leering grins of those little creeps behind my eyelids; I would never hear the end of it. SMACK! I would never be able to look them in the eyes again. SMACK! I was utterly humiliated.


"Billy. Boys." My mother's stern voice. "Upstairs. Now."

"We're going," I heard my brother say.


I felt my ass shake with each blow landed. Felt the naked scarlet flesh burning under the searing gaze of the boys, where I knew their eyes lingered. And between my legs, where I couldn't help but flash them everything as I kicked and struggled with each—


Oh. My. God.


Bare-assed naked. Spanked. Tits bouncing. Pussy out there. SMACK! Everything out there for my brother and his two friends to see.


I wanted to die.


Finally, footsteps disappearing upstairs.


Thankfully out of sight.




It went on.

*     *     *

After the three boys had gone, I just laid there, hardly struggling anymore at all. I kept my eyes closed, thought about going somewhere and just disappearing forever. I didn't think I'd be able to face my brother and his friends ever again.

I had nightmares that weren't as horrifying as those boys seeing me stripped completely naked and spanked like a child.

And yet, they'd just seen exactly that.

My cheeks—the ones on my face—were burning with the shame of it. They felt as red as my ass must surely be from the spanking. Which had paused for the moment.

My father was no longer spanking me.

Was my ordeal finally over?

"Stand up, Lindsey." He released my arm, the one he'd pinned across my back.

Obediently, I slipped off his lap and kneeled on the floor, not even caring about my bared breasts, or that I was sticking my spanked ass out. I reached one hand around, rubbed the sore, tingling flesh.

"Up," my father said.

I stood, becoming more aware of my complete nudity. I was standing in the living room of my house, in front of both my parents, without a stitch of clothing. I covered my chest with one arm, shielded my pussy with the other. Absurdly, I felt embarrassed that I hadn't yet shaved my bikini line and was a bit fuzzy down there.

I stared at the floor, my ass aching.

"Look at me," my father said. When I raised my eyes, he said, "I hope you learned your lesson today. This was a very important one. Tell me, did you learn your lesson?"

"Yes," I said.

"What did you learn?"

"I shouldn't have betrayed your trust. You and Mom. By getting the bikini."

I looked at the discarded halves of the bathing suit. Just strings.

"It was inappropriate. I should have more respect for my body." I sniffled a bit. "I didn't . . . I mean, I shouldn't enjoy showing it off."

"Anything else?"

"Just that I'm sorry," I said.

My father didn't say anything for a while. He sat with his arms crossed, looked over at my mother, back at me. I shifted uncomfortably, very aware my nakedness. What if my brother and his friends came back down, I thought, and saw more of me. A part of me screamed out, they've already seen more than enough. Still, I shivered.

"Alright," my father said at last. "I think you can go up to your room and spend the rest of the night thinking about this."

I nodded, eyes down.

"Lindsey," my mother said. "I'm sorry but this was for your own good."

I nodded. Risked raising my eyes. "About the trip . . . I mean, the hotel and everything . . ."

"We'll discuss it later," my father told me, and his tone suggested I shouldn't bring it up again until they were ready.

"You're excused," he said. "Upstairs. Think very hard about what happened here this evening. About why we're mad."

"Okay," I said.

Still covering myself with my arms, I moved forward a few steps, scooped up the long-ago discarded towel. I wrapped it around myself, thankful to hide my over-exposed body.

I left the bikini lying in two pieces on the carpet.

Holding the towel tight around my body, I ascended the stairs. My parents silently watched me go.

When I reached the top of the stairs, I hesitated.

My brother's door was open. Somehow, I was certain that the three boys were just waiting to see me dash humiliated past the door.

I swallowed hard, tightened my grip on the towel, and forced myself to walk unhurriedly past. I kept my eyes straight ahead.

Crossing in front of the open door, I knew without looking, that three sets of eyes—my obnoxious brother, and those two leering friends of his—were watching me.

I knew that despite the towel I now wore over my nude body, that the three boys had seen every inch of me naked, fully exposed. The two perverts, Mark and Scott, would no doubt replay my humiliating nude spanking over and over in their minds. I shivered with disgust as I walked.

My body covered by a towel. Underneath, my punished bottom blazing red, the same as my blushing cheeks.

And then I was past.

I hurried the final few steps, ducked into my room.

Just as I was closing the door, I heard that noise from my brother's room. The noise I would hear over and over as I sat and played back the most embarrassing moment of my young life.

The three boys—the wide-eyed witnesses to my naked spanking—were laughing.

Even after I closed my door, laid on my bed with my eyes closed, I could see them grinning, Mark and Scott salivating. I could hear them snickering.