Author:
Ginger
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Date Posted: 17:13:56 01/06/26 Tue
I sit down in the kitchen and open up my weekly planner, reminding myself of everything coming up for the next few days. Tennis lessons again in two days, but nothing tomorrow. I think I might take you to that new mini-golf course I saw off the highway. You just had a metaphorical bomb dropped on you, and it seems like just the prospect of a spanking is making you straighten up a bit. So, maybe doing something fun will help your mood.
I'm jostled out of my musing by some odd muffled thumping coming from the other side of the house. I quickly go to investigate and find you, clad in only your boxer shorts, creating a huge mess in my bedroom. You yank out another dresser drawer, dump my clothes on the ground and then drop the drawer with a thud. You stand there for a moment looking around the room as if searching for the next thing to spin into chaos.
You're either furious, or you don't believe I'll actually spank you. Probably both. Well, you're about to find out how wrong you are.
"Are you quite finished?"
You spin around, looking shocked to see me, though you have no reason to be. Your little tantrum was clearly designed to get my attention. You look wrong-footed for a moment, then cross your arms over your chest and glare at me. I don't bother having a conversation at this point. In one smooth motion, I grab ahold of your upper arm, and use one foot to snag the little stool out from under the vanity table. I sit down, bend you over my left leg, and put my right leg over yours to forestall too much kicking. Then I unceremoniously pull your boxers down to mid thigh. I put my left forearm against your back, to keep you down, and land the first sharp spank on your bottom.
You are jack-knifed over my knee with you bare bottom pointed up at me, in the perfect position for your very first spanking. I spank your other cheek, so that you have a matching pair of handprints, and you manage to break through your shock, and find your voice.
"Nooooooo! Ginnnngeeeeer! You can't do this!"
I don't bother arguing with you, because I quite clearly CAN. I dive straight in with medium hard spanks, peppering them all over your upturned bare bottom.
You continue to yell your displeasure, but your shouts of anger are quickly becoming expressions of actual pain.
"Ow, Ginger, stop! Ow ow, that hurts! Owwwwwwww!"
I pick up the pace, not spanking harder, but going a bit faster. It's surprisingly satisfying to spank your naughty little backside. You really have had this coming for far too long. I hear you catch your breath, and I can tell that tears are on the way. I concentrate my smacks on your sit spots on the undercurve of your bottom cheeks and that's enough to get you crying properly. I keep the spanking going for about another thirty seconds, but I slow the pace of the smacks way down. Finally, I'm happy with the color I've achieved, a uniform light red. You are one well-spanked little boy. I pull your boxers back up, cover your bottom, and gently help you stand up. You immediately throw your arms around my neck and cry into my shoulder. After letting you cry it out for a bit, you catch your breath, and I take it as a sign to turn you around and propel you into the corner.
"You're going to spend a few minutes in the corner, thinking about how you got yourself in trouble, and how you could have avoided it. Then you are going to clean up the mess you made."
I place your hands on your head.
"Your hands stay right there. If you try to rub your bottom, then you'll go back over my knee."
You shake your head frantically, and unconsciously clench and unclench your bottom, trying in vain to alleviate the sting.
I sit back down to watch and see if you can avoid going right back over my knee.
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