Fiction: Like a Naughty Girl

When I first started blogging and joining online spanking spaces, it was specifically to read, write, and share, spanking fiction. I was young and inexperienced so I am not saying it was good fiction, but there it was. Until a few months ago, I hadn’t written much about spanking or kink for years – part of that was being absorbed in school and part is because although I love to write, I find it very difficult to arrange what I’d like to write. Writing a research paper for school involved a lot of reading, note taking, and thinking before I would sit down and often write thousands of words in a single evening. This is probably the product of a bit of undiagnosed ADHD, but I’ve always worked well under the pressure of a deadline or some sort of external structure. Internal structure exists, but it’s more complicated for me. So writing spanking stories is similar – I spend a lot of time thinking of a scenario or story and it doesn’t get written down until it feels like it’s positively going to explode from my finger tips. Sometimes that’s at 4am and sometimes it’s in the middle of my work day. This one was written in the Notes app on my phone, as I groggily lay awake before my husband and daughter roused in the bed next to me.

Anyway, I’ve been dabbling back in fiction a bit and wrote down one of my most common and recurring spanking dreams. I have had this dream – or a variation of it – for as long as I can remember. It is the absolute core of my kink: a hard OTK hairbrushing that I don’t want, but is good for me, and is not about it being my choice – in fact, it’s better if I don’t want it. Now, this particular variation is heavily influenced by recent discussions and negotiations for potential real life play, and a lot of conversations about those earliest and most core fantasies. The uniform is a more recent addition to these dreams/fantasies so this variation is quite new to me.

It also explores a concept I intend to write about more and that is the concept of being an inherently good girl and not wanting to misbehave simply to get spanked hard. Hence the title.

I hope you enjoy it.

o0o

Like a Naughty Girl (M/F, semi-cons, spanking)

She panted, trying to catch her breath. The smacks were falling hard and much too quickly for her to compose herself. If he didn’t stop soon, she was going to cry and she did not want to do that. As she kicked her feet against the hardwood floor, she suddenly felt his legs move, then his weight shift, then her own, and she gasped as her feet were cleared completely from the ground. She felt unstable despite his arm tightly circling her hips, her body pulled snug to his. Her fingers no longer reached the floor either and she gripped the chair rung with one hand and his left ankle with her other. The spanking with the ebony hairbrush barely slowed while he had adjusted her across his lap.

“Wait! Stop! It’s too much! I can’t take it!”

He was quiet, landing two particularly hard smacks on her sit spots, her breath catching as the last word left her mouth.

“Why are you across my lap, young lady?”

He continued smacking only her sit spots and she squealed.

Panic and habit kicked in and she yelled, “I’m really sorry!” Embarrassing. She knew she had nothing to say sorry for.

“What did I tell you? Why am I currently giving you a very sound hairbrush spanking on your bare bottom like a naughty girl?” He emphasized the last four words with smacks to her thighs.

She began to sniffle. She didn’t want to say it but there was no way she could get through it if he spanked her thighs, too. Not when she was feeling like a naughty girl, dressed for punishment in an otherwise complete uniform but without a skirt, wearing ankle socks, and spanked with the hairbrush with no warm up.

Frustrated, she kicked her feet, still refusing to cry.

“I am NOT a naughty girl! Please stop! It’s too much! It hurts!”

“Good. I can see this is a very hard spanking for you, isn’t it? You are a very good girl, which is why you’re being spanked like a naughty little girl and I am going to continue to smack your thighs until you can tell me why.”

She broke a bit. Her head dropped, her grip slackened a bit, and her nose began to run as the tears finally spilled over.

“Because it’s good for a good big girl to be spanked like a naughty little girl sometimes, even if she hasn’t misbehaved.”

She paused to catch her breath, “so they know what would happen if they were naughty, without having been naughty.”

Her thighs were burning from the time he spent spanking them with the hairbrush as she talked but as soon as she finished, he returned to a more well-rounded approach to walloping her bottom – continuing to whack everywhere else including her sit spots.

Soon, she gave up kicking all together and simply cried. It was a minute or two before she realized he had stopped and was gently rubbing her back.

She caught her breath and sniffled, wiping tears off her face. She squirmed, she thought she could to get up. She wanted to get up.

But he wasn’t finished. She felt him twist and heard the hairbrush deposited on the desk. Soon, his hand was firmly landing on her bottom. She knew it was marked, could feel the stinging outline of the hairbrush all over. The hand spanks weren’t heavy but they weren’t soft – just enough. She quietly began to cry again, but not the big gulping sobs the hairbrush elicited.

As he spanked, he talked.

“I will always spank you soundly. You do not have to misbehave or be naughty to get the kind of spanking you need or the kind of spanking you want. I will never stop until it has been enough or sometimes, until I want to – not even if you kick and wriggle and beg. Promising to be good won’t make a difference because I already know you’re a good girl. That just makes you especially in need of having your bottom dealt with so you know someone is paying attention.”

He moved to her thighs and landed a flurry of hard smacks all over them, expanding on the territory he had used the hairbrush on. She felt the sting all the way to the backs of her knees as he continued, “You cannot hide from me.”

And then I woke up, aching for exactly that kind of spanking. Like a naughty girl, but without the naughtiness. Like a punishment but without the misbehavior. Just because he could.

Whoever he is.