Fiction: Bedtime for an Impertinent Girl

I wrote this story in the Fall of 2023 when I was quite sick for several weeks with a bad asthma exacerbation and bronchitis. I had a lot of time to fall into my head and fantasize, daydream, think about spanking, etc. At the same time, a green sweater I found on eBay from Flynn & O’Hara, to match a black watch plaid kilt, tie, and green knee socks I’d already purchased, arrived in the mail. A complete uniform, from a school in a neighboring state. I put the whole kit on one day when I had a bit more energy, and took some photos, admired myself in the mirror, and allowed myself to fall into a fantasy about it. After the jump is the photo that inspired the story here, and the story itself. It’s only ever been shared with one other and I hadn’t re-read it nearly since I wrote it, but I’m rather fond of it. Uniform feels even further away than kink more generally right now, and has for months, so I am re-reading old personal writings in an attempt to feel that connection again. As for the title, it is a pre-bedtime story, so don’t expect pajama spanking here. There are three photos here – the original one that inspired it plus two bonus ones at the end. The story has some daddy vibes, those being some of my favorites. I hope you don’t mind.

It is M/F, semi-cons, includes uniform, line writing, and temperature taking.

Inspired by this photo of me bent over the bed in my new green tartan kilt…and other things.

Bedtime for an Impertinent Girl

Marie squirmed, shifting on her toes, as the side of the bed dug into her hips despite the added thickness of her skirt. She had been waiting, obediently, bent over the side of the daybed for what felt like forever, but was probably less than fifteen minutes.

What is he doing?! She thought. At least she had a pillow. As she shifted, attempting to adjust her collar and tie but careful to leave her hands well in front of her face, she let her foot come down in a bit of a stomp.

‘Oh, that’s quite enough of that, I think.’ His hand fell quickly onto her bottom, not hard but firm.

She squeaked, startling, her bottom clenching. She hadn’t heard him come in and had no idea how long he’d been watching her. Long enough, probably. Her stomach dropped a bit as his hand settled on her lower back, sure the other one was headed for her pleats.

‘I think since you’re feeling well enough to have an attitude, you’re well enough to spend some time in this uniform, feeling very disciplined. Don’t you?’

Ugh

‘Yes, sir, but I am sorry.’ He had taken good care of her all week while she was sick, her boredom with being stuck in bed and in the house was not his fault, but she’d grown a bit snappy. Now that she was feeling better and she was no longer coughing, she’d been smacked, in bed, rather hard after her last cranky whine, and promised more later.

–

After she’d taken a bath, she found her new uniform waiting on her bed. The expectation was clear but she wobbled anyway. 

Uniform meant discipline, not just a spanking. After toweling off, she slid her arms into the shirt, wondering who’d dropped it off to be starched and if it had been her. She buttoned all but the top two and then put on the kilt, the formality of the dark navy, green, and black feeling very heavy suddenly. Socks next, but she noticed instead of the green knee socks she was expecting, they were white ankle socks. She sighed. Ankle socks always made her feel even more like a child compared to knee socks! 

She pulled them on and cuffed them, next carefully working the matching tie under the stiff collar of her shirt then buttoning the last two buttons, the top requiring a bit of maneuvering. Okay, four tries and she thinks her tie knot is snug and passable. She smoothes the edges of the collar over it one last time and glances at the bed. Only the sweater, panties, and shoes left.

‘Don’t forget to put your hair in a ponytail.’ He had popped his head around the doorway. She glanced up, scowling a bit.

‘I’d rather braid it…’

‘That would look nice. I want it in a ponytail. A high one.’ 

Her face flushes. She’s already feeling very much like the little girl intended. Quickly she slips the sweater over her head, comforted by its warmth, slides the white panties over her hips, and begins to smooth her hair – badly in need of a trim, into the required ponytail. That done, she suddenly realizes there are saddle shoes next to the bed, not her black school t-bars. 

Little girl shoes.

Of course, they’re the right size but their stiff newness hugs her feet as she ties the laces. After giving herself an appraising look in the mirror, at least I look cute…she bends herself over the firm metal of the end of the bed, needing to go onto her toes to be positioned properly, bottom high.

–

‘Now, since you’ve been sick, I want to make sure – before and after – that you’re well.’ He lifted her kilt. She clenched her bottom.

‘I don’t have a fever! I’ve been a lot better for a few days!’ 

‘There’s only one way to check that properly and precisely isn’t there, Marie?’

She groaned, ‘Yes, sir.’

He folded the neatly pressed pleats of her kilt up into her lower back and left the room just long enough.

When he came back he was sitting in the chair. Any hope that she might get to stay over the bed for this, was quickly dashed. Though she wasn’t sure either position was preferable and simply knew moving would bring the inevitable.

‘Come here and put yourself over my knee young lady.’

Her face burned and her hands began to sweat. She hated being required to participate in her own discipline like this. Which is why it was so effective. She pushed herself up and practically dove across his lap, not giving herself time to make eye contact or even see his face. 

He adjusted her position so her feet were clearly off the floor and her skirt was moved back out of the way and she kicked, feeling the waistband of her panties being tugged down to her hips. She stopped herself from protesting, not wanting to be spanked before that.

‘Now, if you hold still, this will be nice and quick. If not, it won’t be accurate and will take longer.’ He patted her bare bottom as she squirmed. ‘I know you can be a good girl.’

She relaxed a bit at that, very much trying to be a good girl. She heard him taking out and preparing the thermometer and her resolve wavered as she felt him gently part her bottom cheeks to slide it inside her. She whimpered and squirmed as it entered gently, but with a firm push to make sure it was positioned properly. After that, she held very very still, so as not to prolong. 

But then he started talking.

‘I don’t appreciate an impertinent girl, no matter her state of health. Is that clear?’

‘Ah, yes sir! I’m sorry!’

‘I am sure you are. That’s why I am going to remind you what a good girl you are. Once we know for sure you’re better, I am going to give you a very sound bare bottom spanking right here over my knee.’ He was rather gently patting her bottom through all of this and she relaxed into it, despite the anticipation of what was coming next.

An hour later – or maybe 3 minutes – he removed the thermometer, cleaned it off, and declared her fever free. He moved the items rather quickly out of the way and started spanking – straight to the bare!

‘No warm ups today I’m afraid – I think you need to feel this.’

She kicked and grasped the legs of the chair, realizing she was going to be very thoroughly smacked and there was very little she could do about it. She couldn’t even fake cough at this point, but the smacks were building in intensity. 

‘Ow! I won’t be impertinent! I promise!’

‘Not when I’m through you won’t. I know you just need a reminder that you’re a good girl who’s bottom is the best place for discipline. Isn’t that right?’

She hated having to answer questions while being whacked. If she focused on each smack, she could steal herself, but talking made that difficult. Because of this, she practically yelled ‘yes sir!’ as a volley of very hard smacks fell onto her sit spots. 

He stopped.

Oh no. No no. No stopping. Stopping wasn’t good for her bottom. She felt his upper body twist slightly and knew.

‘No no! Please!’

She began to panic. All too quickly he had the hairbrush and she wanted no part of it. She could feel it’s deceptively cool back sitting across her bottom.

Her voice cracked, ‘Please, I’ll be a good girl, I’m sorry I was cranky!’

His voice was very gentle and low as he spoke.

‘You’re already a good girl. That’s why you’re here. Being a good girl already is why I am going to wallop you with this hairbrush.’

And he did. There was nothing gentle or relaxing about the first spanks that fell on the fullest part of her bottom and the scolding that came with it.

‘A good girl, of your age, across my lap, like a child. Tsk. I hope you know I see when you need discipline and that I will always oblige – even if – perhaps especially when – I have to use the hairbrush.’ It felt like every word was punctuated by a hard smack.

She gasped at the heavy sting of the hairbrush. It really didn’t take much to get her attention and this was a hard spanking. It felt like it might never stop.

Before she could respond, he moved to the lower part of her bottom and her upper thighs and she began to cry and kick frantically, reaching her hand back only to have it quickly and tightly pinned in the small of her back.

‘It seems a bit undignified to be here with your panties down, after having your temperature taken, having your bottom throughly punished with the hairbrush, doesn’t it?’

He expected an answer this time and through her tears, she said ‘yes sir…v-very undignified,’ before putting her head down and crying. She didn’t quite stop kicking but it wasn’t enough to warrant restraining her – she suspected he enjoyed it when she was kicking and crying over his lap in fact, and only restrained her legs if it felt very necessary.

After another minute or two of hard spanking, he stopped and began to rub her back, whispering soothing words. Normally, he’d let her up once she calmed down enough but he wasn’t done. Retrieving the thermometer from the side table, he set back to work.

‘That was very thorough. We’ll just make sure you’re still well, and then you can spend some time in the corner thinking about not being impertinent.’

She began crying anew when she felt the thermometer slide again between her, this time very sore, bottom cheeks, but again held still. He didn’t rub her bottom this time, and she could feel the sting settling in. She was sure it was very red and likely a little purple, the tops of her thighs feeling particularly tender. 

Moments later, he eased the thermometer out slowly, and helped her to her feet. Knowing the urge would be hard to resist, he reminded her to put her hands on her head, and not rub. He guided her, sniffling, to her corner, and tucked the hem of her skirt up, realizing he’d forgotten the pins in the study.

‘Feet together young lady. Show me you can be still.’

She shifted into the appropriate position and continued to cry softly as her bottom – on clear display – burned and itched and throbbed.

She heard him leave the room but was feeling far too contrite to move or disobey. By the time he returned, her crying had slowed significantly and she was much calmer, peaceful almost, resting her head on the walls, breathing slowly. Very thoroughly chastised. She heard him moving things around behind her.

‘I want you to step out of your panties and then I am going to pin your skirt up.’

There was no protest as she lifted her feet out of the panties that were already nearly at her ankles and then she felt his light touch as he expertly pinned her skirt to her shoulders, ensuring it stayed clear of her bottom.

Taking her by the ear, he lead her firmly over to her desk where he’d placed her notebook and pen.

‘And to make sure you don’t forget, we’ll have a bit of reinforcement before you put on your pajamas for the night. You’re going to sit here on your sore bottom, and write I will not be an impertinent girl, twenty five times.’

She nodded and sniffled, knowing this was less a consequence and more a finishing touch. 

‘Yes, sir.’ 

He encouraged her into the chair as she winced, and moved a box of tissues into her view. She smiled through her tears, blew her nose, and numbered the first line in crisp black pen.

1. 

o0o

For this story, I sat down and wrote out the lines described at the end here. I’m also sharing a photo of me in the full uniform with tie – the skirt is literally off kilter, so don’t laugh.

-M