Rich Student

 

Naughty Little Kartoffel

Belinda Comes out of the Closet

Rita Garcia, thought she heard her hall closet door closing when she entered her apartment. Approaching the closet cautiously, holding the baseball bat she always kept by the front door, in her right hand, she threw the closet door open. To find a young girl hiding in there. The blue-eyed girl was wearing tight blue jeans and a even tighter long sleeved t-shirt, cut low in the front, revealing the deep valley between her snowy white breasts. She had long blonde hair. The girl introduced herself, speaking with a thick German accent, “Guten Morgen, my name is Belinda.”
Rita, waving her bat in the air, shouted, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY CLOSET, BITCH?”
The pretty blonde replied, “I am not a bitch. I’m German. I thought this was the door to your bathroom.”  
“It’s not”, Rita snarled angrily, “How did your get into my apartment. And why are you here?”
“I am …. how you say in Englisch? This apartment building’s new superintendent. I am here to fix your pipes.”, Belinda lied. Belinda thought she was an expert at lying. In fact, she was horrible at it. Lying was why she was due to get another spanking in just a few hours. Last month Carol, the girl who shared her dorm room with her, had returned home late from a fraternity party to find Belinda, sleeping on her stomach, her bottom resembling two overripe tomatoes. When Carol asked Belinda what had happened to her, she was too embarrassed to tell her she had been paddled by a mall security officer for shoplifting, so she lied, and told her, her history professor, Dr. Manning, had told her she was failing his class, but if she would allow him to spank her, he would give her a passing grade.
That lie had spread like wildfire all across the campus. When Dr. Manning finally heard it, that lie became a reality. He had ordered Belinda to join him in his office, where he threatened to have her expelled and returned to Germany if she didn’t return to his office, once a week, before his class for the rest of the semester, where she would be caned, or paddled or strapped with a belt, or .. well, she never knew what punishment he had in store for her, she only knew she would spend the next hour and a half in his class, feeling like she was sitting on a red hot griddle.
Rita knew she was lying now, too. “There’s nothing wrong with my pipes” she told the German brat.
“NEIN? Then I must be in the wrong apartment. Auf Wiedersehen.”, Belinda said as she hurried towards the door.
Noticing for the first time as Belinda rushed past her, the locket, hanging from a golden chain between Belinda’s breasts, Rita stopped her, shouting, “WAIT A MINUTE, that’s MY locket!”
Belinda froze. Fear rising within her. She had been caught stealing many times in the past, with her bottom always paying the price for her thievery. And she was due across Dr. Manning’s lap in just three hours. Could she lie her way out of this predicament?
Thinking fast, Belinda replied, “YOUR necklace. NEIN. My husband gave me this locket. For my birthday.”
Snatching the necklace from Belinda’s neck, Rita showed her the inscription engraved on the back of it, “To Rita From Maria. Love Always.”  
“Oh, you are right then. I … have a necklace just like that one. I … wore mine to work today. And lost it .. here .. in your apartment. When I saw that one, I thought it was mine. I am so sorry. If you find mine, can you send it to me? Danke. I must return to work now.”, Belinda said, inching towards the door, before Rita took her by the hand, and said, “Please don’t go, yet. I have something I want to show you. In my bedroom.”
“Oh, you want to make love to Belinda, yes? I can not blame you. I was voted the most beautiful woman in Berlin last year.  I have made love to many American women. I am what you call a lesbian.” Belinda never told the truth, if she saw a chance to lie instead. She had never been in bed with an American woman before. But the idea intrigued her. It sounded wicked and devilish to her. She loved being naughty.
“Oh, you’re a lesbian? But I thought you just told you were married. To a man?”, Rita said, smiling sexily at Belinda.
DAMN IT! Belinda had forgotten she had told that lie, “ Yes, but he left me … when he caught me in bed with an American woman.”   
“Oh, OK, I’m sorry to hear that.” Rita said, as she led Belinda into her bedroom by her hand. “Here, you undress first. And then I’ll show you MY surprise.”
Belinda felt butterflies dancing in her stomach. She wasn’t sure she wanted to do this. But if was better than being arrested. Or spanked. Especially since she was going to be spanked again later tonight. By a man who was an expert at setting a girl’s ass on fire. Belinda stripped slowly, with her back to Rita. Sitting on the bed, Rita watched her closely. Belinda’s big bottom was as white as snow, except for a single pale pink stripe, located where her full bottom curved into her chubby thighs. That was the last fading welt from the six strokes of a cane given to her by Dr Manning the week before.
Turning towards Rita, Belinda said, “Is Belinda not beautiful? Now where is my surprise?”  
Expecting to see Rita undress, she was shocked to see her reach into a drawer of her nightstand and pull out a huge right-angled…
PADDLE! Belinda had heard the song of the paddle played many times on her backside. That concert always left her bottom black and blue. And she still had a appointment with Dr Manning tonight. Belinda knew she needed to escape this trap as quickly as possible. “ This … this is wrong. I am married. To a man. Ja, he left me, but I still love him. I must go.”  
Rita grabbed Belinda by the wrist, telling her firmly, “ The ONLY place you’re going, you little thief, is across my lap.”

Once the wiggling blonde was secured, Rita raised her paddle high above her head telling the trembling German, “I caught you red handed trying to steal my locket. But when you leave this apartment, my pretty little fraulien, that won’t be the only part of you that’s red. Very, very red.”
Twenty minutes later Rita escorted the bawling brat out of her apartment. Belinda was furiously rubbing the seat of her tight jeans, which now felt two sizes too tight, complaining that her ”popo” was on fire. For the first time that day, Rita believed her. her paddle had blistered every inch of Belinda’s plump posterior. Giving Belinda one final hard swat with her heavy paddle, Rita told Belinda, “Bye, Bratty. I hope you enjoyed your visit here today. I sure did.”
Turning to go back into her apartment, Rita saw Angela, her next door neighbor was standing in the hallway. Rita asked the ravishing redhead how long she had been standing there.
“For about ten minutes, “ Angela explained, “I was in my apartment when I heard what sounded like someone being murdered. When I came out here to investigate, it sounded like … you were … spanking someone. Did you just spank that girl?”
“I sure did.” Rita said, with a big smile. “ I caught her in my apartment, trying to rob me. Don’t you think she deserved a spanking for that?”
Angela had to agree with that, that thief may had broken into her apartment next. “Yes. Yes, I do. It sounded like you spanked her really REALLY hard.”
“As hard as I could. With this.” Rita said showing Angela her paddle, “I hope that’ll teach her a lesson, and she’ll be too afraid to ever try to rob anybody else. Well, I worked up quite a sweat spanking that blonde bitch. I better take a shower now.”

Seriously?

 

Early Morning

There was no denying it, Belinda had screwed up. Big time. Worse than that, she had been caught. That was really the issue. Her roommate Alicia had been waiting for her as she had opened the door to their shared flat, arms crossed over her chest, eyes blazing with anger.

“Well, well,” Alicia had said, “Look what the cat brought in…”

“We are not allowed pets in here, you know that…” Belinda said, trying to deflect with humour as she usually did. It didn’t go well, and Alicia’s glare only intensified.

“Care to explain where you’ve been?” her girlfriend said, icily.

“Just a little walk…” Belinda replied, eyes looking everywhere but at Alicia.

“At two in the morning?” Alicia asked.

“Well… Hum…”

“You thought I wouldn’t notice?” Alicia continued, not bothering to wait for the lie that was sure to come.

“I thought…”

“Yes?”

“I thought you would still be asleep…”

“Oh, so that makes it all right, then, yeah?”

“I just do not want to fight…”

“So maybe, just maybe you should stop lying to me?!” Alicia hissed, trying not to outright yell. As sweet as their elderly neighbours where, she doubted they would take kindly to being woken up in the middle of the night by a shouting match.

“I am sorry…” Belinda said, her cheeks blushing. Shit. She really was sorry, but she knew that it didn’t look that way at all. She hated disappointing Alicia, but she always had had a defiant streak in her.

Alicia extended a hand, palm up. “Give it to me,” she said, and her tone brooked no argument. A pause.

“G-give you what?” Belinda said, innocently.

Alicia flicked her fingers. “Don’t make me ask again, Belinda Krüger…”

Oh god, the full name. Now she felt like she was twelve, being scolded by her parents for yet another bad school report. She sighed.

“Please…” she said, “Just this once…”

“You made a promise, Belinda,” Alicia said, “Hand. It. Over.”

Another sigh, more blushing. Belinda finally reached into her bag and slowly took out a pack of smokes. She held it up for a second, then reluctantly placed it in her very cute, but very irate friend's hand. Alicia curled her lip.

“Well that explains the 10 quid I’m missing from my wallet, doesn’t it…” she said, dismissively.

“But Alicia…”

“No 'but', missy.”

“I just…” Belinda started.

Alicia cut her off; “You just broke your promise, and stole some money from me too…”

“I did not smoke any!” Belinda protested. “I promised I would not smoke anymore, and I did not!”

“So you bought them just to look at the packet?”

There was little to defend, here, really. Belinda knew she was being stubborn, but in for a penny, in for a pound, she might be able to salvage this. Surely…

“Well, no, but… I could have smoked one on the way back and…” she tried to explain, stumbling over her words a little.

“And why didn’t you?” Alicia asked, an eyebrow raised.

“I…”

All right, she hadn’t thought this one ahead, had she…

“Yes?”

“I did not have a lighter,” Belinda confessed, defeated.

Alicia rolled her eyes. “Perfect. Just perfect…”

“Alicia, please…”

“Please what?”

“Do not be angry…”

“Oh, all right then. What should I be?” Alicia asked, not as quiet as before.

“Well… Hum…”

“Tell me how I should feel, Belinda?” Alicia asked again.

Without waiting for an answer, she went to the kitchen bin and slammed the packet of cigarettes down into it. She had her back to Belinda now, and had Belinda looked at her, her anger would still have been plain to see in the tension of her posture, the slight trembling of her arms, the shallowness of her breathing. Belinda would have also thought that she was beautiful in her anger and would have wanted nothing but to hold her tight and tell her how sorry she was, how stupid she felt. She would have begged for another chance and promised to do better.

But Belinda saw nothing, and said nothing, her eyes fixed on the floor. Pride, defiance. She couldn’t help herself.

“Disappointed? Hurt?” Alicia pressed, loud and angry now, “How should I feel?”

“I do not know…” was all that Belinda could say.

“Right, well, I am all of these things” Alicia said, turning around. “Come here.”

“Wh-what for?” Belinda hesitated.

“You made a promise, yes?”

“Yes… I am not deny…”

“And you broke it, yes?”

“Well…”

“Yes or no?”

“… Yes… I broke it…”

“Right. So, I think it’s fair that you should be punished.”

“P-punished?” Belinda said, wide-eyed. She already had suspicious, what is waiting for her.

Sandra pulled a chair from under the kitchen table and sat down. With a finger, she pointed to her lap. “Come here,” she said.

“Is this really that necessary?” Belinda asked. Alicia rolled her eyes.

“Yes, Krüger, I’m telling to come over my lap. Because I’m going to spank you, and you’re going to be sorry. And this is that necessary!” She said the last words with what sounded like absolute certainty.

Fear. Panic. Belinda didn’t know what to say, what to do.

A split second later, Alicia clapped her hands. “I’m waiting, young lady,” she said, “And my patience is running dry.”

Had she just called her young lady? She took one step. Was she really going to spank her? Another step. No… She… She deserved it, didn’t she? But a spanking? Surely, that was ridiculous, she wouldn’t…

And then, she realised that she already was over Alicia’s lap, and her skirt was already being lifted and… oh no.

“Wait!” she said, but the first slap was already falling, and when it connected, her mind went blank. It hurt! Well of course it hurt, but it hurt hurt! And more slaps were already raining down on her barely covered cheeks. Curse these lace panties, and these stupid cigarettes and her stupid promise and…

Sandra’s hand fell harder.

And harder.

And faster.

And it hurt.

And she cried.

And she begged.

And she promised.

And she was forgiven.

Wolfie birthday to you!

Horoscope

“Is it… Is it really necessary, Herr?” Belinda asked, her panties only slightly pulled down, the elastic band taught in her fingers.

“Down they go, Belinda,” he said firmly. Mr Wright was not in the habit of repeating himself.

“But it’s so… humiliating,” she pleaded, “I’m in my underwear already, surely that is...”

“Did I ask for an opinion, or did I ask you to take your panties off, young lady?” came the reply, cutting her short.

“Ja, Herr,” she mouthed, and she felt the caress of the fabric on her long, shapely legs as the panties fell to the floor. She shivered.

Without another word, he indicated his lap and, blushing red, she shuffled towards him and her impending punishment. “This can’t be happening”, she thought. And yet, it was. A spanking, she was going to get a spanking like a misbehaving child, her bottom bared for her boss to see and punish as he saw fit.

This was not how she had pictured the day going. In fact, according to the horoscope that she was reading with her breakfast that morning, it was going to be “a day to try new things”. That had sounded exciting then! On her way to work, she had decided to take that advice to heart and instead of her usual black coffee, no sugar, no milk, thank you very much, she had even ordered a fancy, multisyllabic, sort-of-Italian-sounding monstrosity of a drink. Sipping on the surprisingly tasty sugary drink, she had wondered what else she might discover she liked that day.

The morning had been her usual mix of boring admin and exciting gossip with Samantha, who always had the tea to spill. Mr Wright had fired his assistant; she had told him. Apparently, said assistant had made a mess of a big client’s account, and Mr Wright had had to spend two days patching things up. But that was not the juicy part! According to Samantha — who had a reputation for embellishing the truth for dramatic effect, in all fairness — Mr Wright had given her assistant a choice: being fired on the spot, and possibly sued by the company, or receiving a punishment and being let go with a generous severance package. Giggling like a schoolgirl at a sleepover, Belinda had asked Samantha what she meant by “a punishment”, to which the latter had answered, lowering her voice conspiratorially, “A big ol’ fashioned spanking!”

Belinda had laughed out loud at the absurdity. Samantha really had a wild imagination, but she was good fun.

Later that day, a company-wide email had been sent, advertising the position of Mr Wright’s assistant. It came with quite a few benefits, flexible hours, and a big pay increase. Belinda remembered the horoscope. “A day to try new things.” Maybe that was the opportunity she had been waiting for? After all, there was nothing to lose. Gathering her courage, she had gone and knocked on Mr Wright’s door.

She estimated that he was in his early 40s, with dark hair just starting to turn grey. Tall, athletic, she had never seen him in anything but smart clothes, even on casual Fridays. Mr Wright was someone who took pride in his work, and who expected a lot of those under him. Samantha had told her that she had tried to invite him on a date — such a Samantha thing to do — but he had told her that he had, quote, “no time for dating.” Not that that had stopped Samantha trying again several times, but to no avail.

“Ah, Belinda, is it?” Mr Wright had said as he opened the door to his office to let her in. She had been pleasantly surprised that he even knew who she was. “Ja, Herr,” she’d said, feeling like a schoolgirl in front of a headmaster. “I would like to apply for the position…”

“Of course, of course”, he’d said, sitting down behind his impeccably kept desk. In fact, the entire office was tidy. There was not a scrap of paper out of place, the books on the shelves were organised alphabetically, the plants symmetrically arranged on the windowsill. “Well,” he continued, “we can certainly give it a go today and see how it goes. But I have to warn you: I have high expectations. If you are not prepared to give this your all, then I would not bother trying.”

She had nodded, “Of course, Herr, I wouldn’t expect anything else!”

“I can assume you have read the job description and all its conditions?” he asked.

“Yes of course.” She hadn’t, really, not all of it. It was a PA job, nothing too novel, and the tasks and duties were the normal fare. Or so she had thought.

“Perfect, let’s sign your contract and you can begin your trial period, shall we?”

And just like that, she had become Mr Wright’s assistant. That had been four hours previously.

The memories still rushing through her mind, she lowered herself onto his lap, trying to ignore the shame, the mere idea that she was laying over her boss’ lap, her bare bottom on display… All that she was wearing now were a pair of high heels and her bra. Her skirt and blouse were on the desk, neatly folded. Her panties were still on the floor where they had fallen off her legs. Somehow, it was worse than being naked. She shivered again. His hand felt warm against her waist where he held her in place. She could smell his cologne, and she caught herself thinking that it smelled quite nice, like Samantha had said it did. “What the hell is wrong with me?” she thought, “Of all the things to be thinking of…”

Her train of thought was immediately interrupted as his other hand tapped her perky bottom a few times, surprisingly gentle. “Was that it, then? Had it all been a big joke to see how far she would go? That was quite..." His hand slammed into her bottom, and she let out a loud cry. The pain was as immediate as it was searing. Without giving her time to catch her breath, another slap came down, targeting her other cheek, then came another, and another, and one more, relentless, heavy, painful slaps that made her kick her legs and brought tears to her eyes.

The new job had started easily. Her task had been to get acquainted with the accounts that her new boss was handling personally. Belinda an eye for detail, numbers, facts, and she was eager to please. Within the hour, she had written a memo detailing the most important aspects of each client, and he had praised her on her diligence. She had even found an error that the previous assistant, Clara, had made. He had muttered something about Clara getting off easy, but she had not dared enquire further. Belinda was positively glowing. This was going to be a great career move; she was sure of it. Then things had started to get more complex, and she had made a few mistakes. Nothing big: typos, files in the wrong folder, or in the wrong order. Mr Wright hadn’t said anything bad to her then, but simply tutted as he had rearranged the pages or pointed the mistakes. Blushing, she had made all the changes immediately, of course. Thinking back, the blushing had been foreshadowing, it seemed. From then, it had only gotten more complex, and she found herself struggling to keep up with the amount of detail that she was expected to remember. But all would have been fine if not for the email. The one email that clearly said “confidential”, the same email that had now been forwarded to the company’s entire mailing-list. The problem with working for people high up at a company was that mistakes came with a lot more consequences, as she had been about to painfully find out.

The moment the send confirmation sound had pinged off the computer, she had known that she was in trouble. Blushing still, head bowed and eyes wet with incoming tears, she had knocked softly on Mr Wright’s door. He hadn’t raised his voice. He hadn’t needed to. She knew that she was going to be fired, that was clear. Not even half a day into the job, and she had made the biggest blunder of her career.

“You know what your contract says,” he had said, an affirmation rather than a question.

“A-about termination?” she had said, sheepishly.

“About dealing with grave misconduct or severe mistakes.”

“I…” she had hesitated, “I don’t…”

“Let’s have a look again, shall we?”

And there it was, black on white, with her signature right underneath: “In case of gross negligence, the employee acknowledges that they will submit themselves to corporal punishment, namely one (1) bare bottomed spanking taken over the knees of their direct line manager.”

Her eyes had widened as she had read and re-read the passage several times. It couldn’t be true. And yet, that was the contract that she had signed. She had swallowed, not daring to look Mr Wright in the eyes, and thought of Samantha’s silly gossip. Not so silly after all…

“I think that is pretty clear, yes?” he had asked.

“I-I…” she had stammered.

“To be clear, you are not being fired, miss Krüger.”

“I… I’m not?”

“No, but you understand that mistakes must have consequences.”

“Yes but… A spanking, Herr?”

“A time-tested method, absolutely.”

“But Herr…”

“It’s your career and your reputation on the line, Belinda. I would rather shoulder the responsibility for that mistake and keep you as my assistant, but I cannot tolerate mistakes going unpunished.”

“Is that… Is that what happened to Clara? Did she choose not to be punished like… that?”

“Clara was… How could I put it… Clara kept a tube of soothing cream in her desk drawer.”

“For…”

“For her bottom, yes… That’s how often it had to happen. I do not think you will need it quite as much…”

“Ich…”

“Unless you’d rather walk out the door and pack your things, that is entirely up to you…”

“No I…”

A day to try new things, the horoscope had said. That was all bollocks, right? Stars didn’t really control anything… And yet, here she was, pondering whether a spanking was so bad after all…

Without a word, she had nodded.

“Right!” he had said, slapping his thigh and getting up from behind the desk. “Your skirt and blouse, if you please,” he had continued.

“Ex-excuse me?” she had stuttered, getting more flustered by the minute.

“It’s standard procedure… Blouse and skirt off.”

She hadn’t even thought of protesting further. She had already accepted her fate, what more was that now? With trembling fingers, she had unbuttoned her blouse, and folded it on the desk. Her pencil skirt had been next, and within a minute, she was standing in her underwear in front of Mr Wright, her boss. “What would Sam give to be in that position?” she thought. It almost made her grin. Almost.

Then he had said it. “Your panties too, Belinda. It’s a bare bottomed spanking.”

“Is it… Is it really necessary, Herr?”

The slaps kept coming and coming. The tears were freely rolling down her blushing cheeks now, and the burn form her bottom was overwhelming all her senses. Seeing that the only effect kicking her legs had had was to make him spank her harder, she had stopped struggling within minutes of the spanking starting, and had now fully submitted herself to his discipline.

“I expect you to learn from this!” he was saying, and in her mind, she was answering “Yes! Yes, I will!” But all that came out of her mouth were sobs and little cries of pain. She couldn’t see, but she imagined her bottom was crimson by now. She didn’t think she would be able to sit in days.

“With Clara, I had to resort to using a wooden paddle…” he continued, half-comment, half-warning.

She couldn’t even imagine what that would be like. That alone had her promise herself to never have a slip-up that bad again. There were mysteries that were best left alone, and the feeling of a paddle on her bare cheeks was definitely one of them.

After a few more interminable minutes of agony, shame, tears and a good deal of pleading for it to stop, Mr Wright finally did so. She didn’t dare get up, in case he was just taking a break, but a few gentle taps gave her the go-ahead. She got herself up, then let him guide her to the corner of his office were she naturally found herself, hands on her head. A moment to reflect and gather herself while her bottom cooled. As she would later discover, Clara had left her cream in the desk, a fact that she would be forever thankful for.

After Falling

Customer service

It was a quiet day, it seemed, and the shop was empty. After the festive rush, it was no surprise. People had had their fill of shopping and crowds for a while. That, or they were all still in a food coma. Bliss, Liam thought. He walked towards the back of the shop and found the till, behind which stood a very bored young blonde woman, staring at and twiddling on her phone.

Liam came to stand in front of the now-ubiquitous plexiglass screen and made a little polite wave.

“Heya,” he said. “Happy New Year.”

“Yes? Can I help you?” the young woman said, a practiced look of indifference on her face.

“Hum, yes, it’s for a return. I bought this for a gift and it...” the man started.

“Do you have a receipt?” she interrupted him.

“Pardon me?”

She rolled her eyes. “A receipt. Piece of paper with the price on it. Proof of purchase, ja?”

“Hum, I’m not sure, I…” Liam hesitated

“Next!” she yelled, looking behind his shoulder.

“What?”

“No proof, no service. Next!” she yelled again.

He turned around.

“… There’s nobody else here…”

“Right, guess I get a break, then.” She smiled and looked back at her phone.

“And my return?”

“Can not help you.”

“Could you just take a look?” he asked, ticked.

“Did you find you receipt?”

“No but…”

“Can not help you.” She cut him.

“Please? It’s unopened.” He showed her.

“Nah.”

“Listen, I’m not trying to be a pain here. I have a customer account here, you can probably...”

“Like I said, nah,” she cut him again

He looked around again. “Can I speak to someone else?”

“What is it? You want to talk to the manager?” she grinned.

“That’s not what I said. Listen, I’m really not trying to be difficult. I’m just trying to return something and, quite frankly, you’re just being rude, you know?”

“Oh, I am sorry. The customer is always right, is he not? And I, the poor little employee should so whatever you want. Is that it?”

“That is… Not what I said either? I’m fine with just an exchange. See? It’s in perfect condition.” He showed her.

“Nah, you see, I am very busy, I do not have time to deal with stuff like that.”

“You… don’t look very busy?” Liam said through gritted teeth, his patience wearing thin.

She waved her phone. “Uh, yeah? I am talking to people?” she said, dismissively. She looked him up and down. “Yeah, it is probably not a problem that you’d have…”

He frowned, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means leave me alone, you creep.”

“Right, where’s the owner then?”

“On hols. It is just you and me. And I am busy.”

“You’re rude is what you are.”

“Whatever.”

“No, not whatever!”

“What, what are you gonna do, big man? Bore me to death?”

“Clearly, someone should have taught you some manners…”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Can you bitte leave me alone, danke. Is that polite enough for you?”

“I would have been gone already if you’d just had a look, you know?”

“Good grief, you just can not take a hint, can you?” she sighed. She put her phone up and looked at the screen, pouting, “Hey guys!” she said to the phone, “This is the creep that is harassing me at work! Say hallo, creep!” She turned the phone around to face him, and Liam could see himself on video.

“What the hell? Are you filming me?”

“Yeah, say hallo!”

He shook his head and shrugged. “Unbelievable…” He turned around and started to walk back out. She came out of her booth and followed him, her phone still held high.

“And there you have it, you guys, that is how you deal with rude-ass custom...”

Suddenly turning around, he grabbed the phone out of her hand and looked into the camera.

“You think I’m rude? I came here to ask politely for a return”

“Hey! Give it back!” she yelled.

He moved it away from her grasp, still talking to the camera. “This young lady is anything but polite, she thought that tapping away at her phone was more important than actually doing her job.”

“Give me my phone!” she yelled again.

“So I think I’ll give her a piece or my mind…” he continued.

“Give me my...”

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward what looked like a footstool. With the girl still protesting and trying to get away, he placed the phone on a shelf, camera still recording. He sat and pulled her over his lap in one fluid movement.

“What are you doing?!” she cried. The camera was pointing at her bottom, perched as it was over his knees. He turned to the camera once more. One of his hands was holding her tight by the waist, his other hand went up.

“And this, you guys, is how we're dealing with the rude shopgirls back in good old USA!”

With a resounding ‘SLAP!’, his open palm came down on her rear, making her jump and yelp instantly.

“Stop!!” she cried, but it was much too late.

The smacks, slaps and spanks began pouring down one after another over her short dress, and it wasn’t long before she was crying and wriggling, hopelessly trying to get away from his firm grip. She hurled insults and invectives at him, from comments on his mother’s proclivities to questions about his manhood and what he could go do to himself with an impressive diversity of objects. Through it all, he said nothing, hitting her bottom, her thighs with the satisfaction of someone who’d been dreaming of it for a while.

He grabbed her dress and lifted it up to her midriff, exposing a little pair of white knickers.

“No! What are you doing you fucking pervert??” she yelled.

“What someone should have done a long time ago…” he replied with a grin and pulled the underwear down as well. Without missing another beat, the slaps resumed. Twenty more hard slaps and the pale pink had turned bright red. Thirty more, forty, and she was begging him to stop, kicking her legs, grabbing and holding to his leg. He held her firmly in place, relentless.

“So, do you have other comments to make?” he asked.

“N-nein…” she said and sniffed.

“I thought so…”

His hand came down again slammed against her tender, hurt bottom. She cried out and whimpered. “Bitte…”

“Oh I don’t think so,” he said, the slaps falling without a pause. Left-right, left-right, evenly covering her naked, throbbing cheeks. She moaned and protested, tears rolling down her cheeks. He carried on without a word, enjoying the spectacle of her ass jiggling and bouncing under his undivided attention. Little by little, as her bottom became a darker and darker shade of red, her invectives died down and she started crying more. The insults became begging, became pleading, became apologies.

“BITTE! I’M SORRY!” she yelled at last. He did pause at that.

“Are you going to do your job?” he asked, punctuating the question with a slap.

“Ja! Yes, please!”

“Was it so hard?” Another slap.

“N-nein…”

“No sir” Smack!

“Au! N-no sir!”

“There we go… Get up!” he said with one final slap.

“Aua! Yes, sir…”

As she did so, he reached for the phone and, pointing it to her bruised bottom first, brought it up to her face.

“Something you want to say?” he asked, nodding towards the phone.

“I… I am sorry… I will be m-more professional…” she mumbled

“How should you treat your customers?”

“R-respectfully?”

“And?”

“K-kindly?”

“And?”

“P-p-politely?”

Liam turned to the camera one last time.

“And there you have, you guys! A lesson well learnt!” he said.

Palm. Jane Palm. And Rotermond. Ursula Rotermond

Last Warning

"AUTSCH!!! Mein Popo! AUA!!!"

"Shut up and listen! If I'll ever see you flirting with my boyfriend again, I'll spank this fat cul allemand of yours right in front of him!"

"AUTSCH!!!!"

The Curse of the Ancient Tomb

 

Toleration

"I don't care, who started it! In our city all sentient races are welcome, and I won't tolerate any insulting or bulling by race! If I will ever again hear any more about 'flea-infesteds' or 'snake-heads' or 'bloodsuckers' any of you will make a public apology! Fully naked!"

 

Happy Birthday, Fräulein!

 

Weighty Argument

 

Teacher Learns a Lesson

 “Quiet down, please!” the teacher said to the class. The boys stopped chatting as they saw the pile of papers that she was holding.

“Are these our tests, Miss?” a boy named Ryan asked.

“They are. Now, please take a purple pen and go through the annotations as I hand them.”

There was a rustle as the boys dutifully looked into their pencil-cases for the necessary pen. As post-16 students in one of the top grammar schools in the country, all of them were used to weekly tests, and needed little reminder of what to do. Discipline and behavior had never been an issue.

“Got it!” Ryan said, holding his pen up. “First?” he looked around. “Boys, always competitive…” Miss Krüger thought.

With a tut, she put the paper down on the boy’s desk. He gasped.

“What is this?” he asked.

“That is your test, Ryan,” she said.

“I can see that, but it seems you’ve given me a… C minus?”

“Indeed, Ryan, that is quite disappointing… Did you revise before this one?”

“Of course I revised,” he said with a frown. “Not that I needed to, this was ridiculously easy. There must be a mistake.”

There was a snicker behind him. “Is that a C, Ryan?” another boy asked.

“No way!” Ryan said, “Miss has made a mistake.”

She huffed. “There is no mistake! I do not make mistakes. Maybe you need to reconsider the amount of effort you should put into your wok, young man.”

Ryan frowned and turned the page, quickly scanning through the answers. Miss Krüger gave the next boy his test.

“Miss!” Ryan called.

“Not now, Ryan,” she replied tersely, and kept handing out the tests.

“Hey, Ryan!” the boy behind him called, “Look, an A!”

“A plus!” another called out.

“Quiet, boys…” the teacher warned.

“But Miss!” Ryan called again.

“That is enough, young man!” she snapped. “I can see that you are disappointed with your grade, but it is merely a result of your own complacency. No one else in the class is complaining. In fact, no one else did quite as bad! Maybe next time you will check your work before handing it in, and make sure that you did not make silly mistakes that end up costing you dearly, yes? Now I do not want to hear one more word about it, understood, Ryan?”

Ryan frowned.

“Ryan?” she asked again.

“Yes, Miss… But…”

“Not another word! I’d rather not have to discipline you. Though if I am honest with you, a result like that should be reason enough for a good spanking!”

There was a OoooooOooooh from the other boys. It had been a long time since any corporal punishment had been needed, and Miss Krüger was well fit. More than one boy had dreamed of being pulled over her lap… or the opposite.

She looked at the rest of the class and lifted a finger in warning. “That is quite enough, boys. You only have twenty minutes to do your corrections, then the lesson is over. And as for you, Ryan, I would use my time wisely if I were you and try to understand what went wrong so it does not happen again.”

For the next ten minutes, only the rustling of papers and pens could be heard. As the minutes ticked by, Ryan’s frown only deepened, until he couldn’t hold it in anymore and rose his hand.

“Miss?” he asked.

Sat at her desk, she slapped it with the tip of her fingers and rolled her eyes. “I thought I made myself clear, young man?”

“Yes, but can I show you something, Miss, please?”

“Yes, yes, if there is something you do not understand, I can help you, of course.”

“Poor little Ryan can’t even correct the mistakes himself…” said a voice behind him. 

More snickers behind his back, and Ryan felt his cheeks blush in shame and anger.

“Shut up!” he said, turning around.

“Ryan!” Miss Krüger said.

“But Miss!”

“I have had quite enough of your attitude, young man!” she hissed. “I think you and I are going to have a talk at lunch.”

More ooohs and aaahs.

“But you got it wrong!” he said, “Look!”

He held his test up.

“You’ve marked each question as if it were the next,” he continued. “See? The first one here? It’s correct, right? And this one, look? It goes A, C, D, but you circled A, C, D on the next one. And then the next, and then the next!”

Miss Krüger snatched the paper off his hand and started leafing through it, blushing. “I-I…” she stammered.

“Well?” Ryan asked.

“I think…” she started.

“Did he get it right?” one of the boys asked.

“Legend!” another yelled from the back.

“It’s all correct, isn’t it, Miss?” Ryan asked with a smile.

“Y-yes… It appears so…”

“So what you’re saying is…” Ryan continued, grabbing his chair and dragging it in front of the desks. “What you’re saying is that you made a silly mistake?”

“I… Hum, well…” she stuttered again.

“Are you telling me you didn’t check your work before handing it in?” he grinned, “I think you’re the one who needs a lesson, Miss…”

The other boys in the room were gleefully looking at her, arms crossed, a smile on their face. One of them, Ian, went to the door and casually leaned against it. A few already had their phones out.

“I do not know what you are saying, Ryan, but…”

“What I’m saying, Miss, is that we expect a high standard of work from you, just as you do from us. That’s only fair, right?”

“Yes. Ich-I suppose?”

“And you said it yourself, such silly mistakes are reason enough for a good spanking.”

“I… Did I say that? I… Hum..."

“You said it, Miss…” said another student with a wry smile.

“Yup, you did,” chirped another.

“What’s my grade?” Ryan asked.

“A… A plus…” Miss Krüger said, hesitantly.

“What was it out of? The marks?”

“One… One hundred and ten…”

Ryan looked around with a grin. “What do you think, guys? One hundred and ten, sounds fair?”

All of them nodded, some of them mouthing “Yeah!”

“I… I do not think that is appropriate…” Miss Krüger tried, but Ryan was already pulling her over his lap.

Quickly, he landed a series of slaps over her dress. It was clingy enough that he could see the patter of her lacy panties underneath. As she wriggled and protested, he held her firmly in place and only spanked her harder, encouraged by his classmates, several of which were pointing their phones at them.

“Maybe next time you won’t be so quick to dismiss questions, Miss?” he said with a grin, and kept landing hard, open-palmed smacks on her curvy ass.

“Aua!” she yelped in pain, “Please! You have made your point!”

“Lift her dress!” one of the boys called. Many others approved. Not one to disappoint his audience, Ryan quickly pulled it up, revealing a white pair of lace knickers under which creamy-white plump buttocks were turning pink. After a second of admiring the view, he went back to work, much to the delight of the other boys. As more slaps poured down, Miss Krüger was blushing from both ends, and tears had begun rolling down her cheeks. She was begging and crying out with every other slap, knowing that a classful of boys were staring at her rear, and that a frilly pair of lacy lingerie was all that protected her dignity —the little of it she had left, anyway.

“Have you been counting, Miss?” Ryan asked as his hand hit her wobbling bottom once more.

“Aua! C-counting?”

“The one hundred and ten slaps?”

“W-what?”

Ryan tutted and shook his head, “Were you not paying attention, Miss? I thought the task was quite clear… Such a silly mistake… Should we start again at one, then?”

“Nein-no! Please! Ryan!”

He nodded to another boy. “Joe. How many?”

“Sixty four,” the other boy said.

“See? We do pay attention, don’t we miss?”

“Y-yes, Ich-I am sorry!”

“You said it yourself, you should make sure that you don’t make silly mistakes that end up costing you dearly…”

“Yes… I am sorry… I…”

“Only forty three to go!” Joe said with a grin.

“No, please!” she moaned.

“Oh yes…” Ryan said with a grin, “But first…”

Pinning her arm behind her back. he grabbed her panties and slowly, almost delicately pulled them down to her thighs, revealing bright red, clenched cheeks. She kicked her legs in protest, but there was nothing the could do. There was palpable excitement in the room, and none of the boys said anything, as if stunned by the view. Big, ugly tears were running down Miss Krüger’s cheeks and she screw her eyes shut.

A sudden massive slap made her open them wide again, and she cried out in pain and surprise.

“How many more?” Ryan asked.

“Forty two!” she moaned.

“Well done!” he said and slapped her ass again. And again, and again.

“T-ten!” she sniffled a few minutes later.

“N-nine…”

“Autsch! Eiiight!”

“Se-e-ven!”

“Six! Six! Aua!”

“Fiiive!”

“F-four, please…”

“Three…”

“Two-Aua!”

“One! One!”

He held his hand high. “Anything you want to tell us, Miss?”

“Ich… I…”

“Will you make any more silly mistakes?”

“No! No! I will check my work! I will not make silly mistakes again! Please!”

Just as the final slap landed, the bell went off.

Ryan let his teacher go and got up.

“There you go lads, class dismissed!” he said. Behind him, one hand on her desk, Miss Krüger was rubbing her red, painful, punished bottom.

Monsterball

 

Bet is Bet

 

All Wrong

"When I said, I won't tolerate any mistakes, I mean non at all, Señorita Krüger!"

"Ja, Herr Álvarez! But I am sure, your wife will like the flowers just as much, as your mistress would have... AUA!!!"

Is the Cake a Lie?