Andrea, a Spanking Story

I had been dating Andrea off and on for the past 3 months. She was attractive with brown curly hair, blue eyes, long legs (a runner) and a svelte physique. I was attracted to her physically; who wouldn't be. In addition to her beauty, her personality was effervescent, perky and spontaneous. Often, I'd hear her giggle and say "come on, lets do it!". Her enthusiasm was childlike and constant. I, by contrast, was the adult; often moderating her excesses and trying to let her know when she was "over the line". Being reserved, this was a constant chore for me. A chore until she leaked a secret.

We had a memorable dinner and, amid the candlelight she confessed a small secret "John, sometimes I can be a brat. Does that bother you?". Nothing I can't handle" I assured her in a lighthearted way. "Andrea, I love your spontaneity but there are times when you try a man's patience." I remarked, continuing "Still, I love you the way you are". Andrea looked into my eyes and I could tell that she was leading somewhere. Speaking with genuine sincerity she noted that, as a brat, she needed guidance. "What sort of guidance" I queried. "I dunno" she sighed, continuing " my daddy always knew what to do". "Don't leave me hanging. What did he do?" I asked. "This may sound strange" Andrea stated, her voice trailing off. "No, please. What can I do?" I asked, reaching across the table taking her small hand in mine. "Well. No, never mind. You really wouldn't like it" Andrea stammered. "Trust me" I answered. Tentatively, Andrea answered "He used to spank me" and, continuing added "I used to hate it but I know that he loved me...". I would have let it lie but suspected that it really meant something to her. Sensing a need to fill this vacuum I added "Could I pick-up where your daddy left-off". "Perhaps" Andrea said, shrugging it off as though unimportant. I sensed that it was important; that she needed the occasional spanking. But when and where?

We had a normal relationship and I enjoyed the nuances of Andrea. Still, I was tentative about giving her the paternal correction which she needed. I'd leave it at arm's length until a better opportunity afforded itself. That opportunity came, quite unexpectedly, and sooner than I had expected.

"Where's my pipe?" I asked after having failed to find it. Normally, I'd treat myself to this one smoke; I'd given up cigarettes long ago but still looked forward to a pipe after dinner. My normally perky and responsive friend pretended to ignore me. Again, I pressed my enquiry. Again, no response. Rising, I took Andrea by the arm and patiently asked her if she had seen my pipe. "Oh, I threw it out. You know I don't smoke" she quipped in a bratty sort of way. "I know you don't smoke. Generally, I don't either. But I like my after dinner pipe", I explained growing cross. "Too bad" Andrea quipped. "Andrea" I firmly stated, now holding her by both arms "look at me!" "Andrea, that pipe was expensive!". "So?" she petulantly remarked. "Andrea, what you did was very naughty and since you don't appreciate just what you've done, I'm going to bring the matter home to you". I was upset, not really mad, but resolved. "Wha, wha, what are go going to do" Andrea stammered. Holding her tight and looking deep into her blue eyes I calmly stated "Andrea, you've behaved like a child and I'm going to spank you like a child. Now come with me, young lady". Having said this, I turned and headed in the direction of the bedroom pulling a reluctant Andrea by the hand. I dragged her protesting all the way. "John, let's talk about this. John! You can't just spank me. I'm not a child..." Her protests fell on my, now deaf, ears.

I sat down on the end of the bed and picked Andrea up easily. I was considerably stronger and soon had her lying face-down across my lap. I cut short her protests with a sharp slap to her rump, generating a muffled "whap". "That didn't hurt" she sneered. "You're right." I said and, grasping the waistband of her shorts, yanked them down below her rump. Andrea's skimpy panties came down next revealing the most beautifully formed bottom I had ever seen. Andrea, sensing that I was serious began begging "John, you're not going to spank me on the bare bottom are you?" Taking a deep breath, I brought back my hand and rapidly brought it down. "Smack!" echoed through the room. Andrea let out a short squeal. I paused then brought down my hand again "Crack!", "ouch, John please. John no, pleeeease…" Gritting my teeth, I delivered a succession of swats to alternate cheeks. The sounds of my hand striking her bare bottom soon merged with her protests "Crack!" "Ow! Crack!, Splatt! Whap! "Ow, please no, ow! ouch! Aiee! I'm sorry please". "Crack, crack, crack" resounded. I was in a rhythm now and giving her what we both knew she deserved. I continued smacking those beautiful cheeks for about 5 minutes. The sound of my hand contacting her bottom brought back memories.

The formerly white cheeks were now a rosy crimson, decorated with my hand-prints. With each swat of my palm those beautiful orbs would jiggle sending shock waves down her legs and, probably, to her sex as well. Watching those beautiful globes and having her buck and squirm on my lap certainly was having an effect on me. Andrea's anger, her petulance, her brattiness and saucy self-righteousness were gone. The cries became weaker. I stopped and gently asked "Andrea?" "Yes" she responded, her lip trembling. "Are you sorry?" I queried. "Yes, John. I'll be more considerate in the future" she said with a sniffle. Slowly I ran my fingertips across her reddened bum. Gently, I cupped her right cheek in my large hand. It was really warm.

Picking her up, I held her close. Her head buried in my chest she was sobbing quietly. "I love you, baby" I said, reassured her. "I know" Andrea meekly replied, adding "I deserved it, every bit". Reaching back, she began rubbing her tender bottom. Slowly she looked up, tears welled-up in her eyes and softly she said "I love you, John". We joined in a long, wet kiss. I knew that she was chagrined and had learned a long-needed lesson. Yet, I sensed that it might not be the last lesson she would learn across my knee.

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