An Invitation

The invitation landed in Peachie’s inbox with a picture of what seems to be an old restaurant/bar called “Spanky’s”. The text simply says that to celebrate the holidays, please come to this establishment deep inside the Village greens at 8pm on Christmas Eve. Though a long-time resident of the Village, Peachie has never seen the building in the picture before. She’s never heard other residents mention it either. Huh, weird, she mutters.

Picking up her phone, she shoots a quick text message to the Mayor of the Village. Surely, the Mayor would know. “Hey Alyx, what do you know about this invitation I got? And what’s the deal with this Spanky’s place?” But Peachie knows that our beloved Mayor is not a big fan of texting and as a result her cell phone is always switched off. As predicted, by the early evening of Christmas Eve, she hasn’t heard anything back. There’s only one way to find out, Peach snorts, what’s there to lose? After a quick snack, she puts on a snowflake sweater, jewel-dotted tights and Ugg boots, jingle-bell earrings dangling as she saunters towards the directed location.

To her delighted surprise, she sees a small crowd of women gathered in front of the building. Moving closer, she recognizes some of her fellow Villagers, others are new faces. Everyone wears festive attires, and their red cheeks show intrigue and excitement. “Hey Peachie, glad you’re here!” one of the girls greeted Peachie warmly by giving her a big hug. “Me too,” she returns the embrace.

“What is this place?” Someone asks. “It looks like a restaurant or a bar,” another girl offers. “Or both!”

I’ve never seen this place before. How about you guys?” Peachie looks around. No one makes a nod, and everyone murmurs “no, not me,” looking a bit puzzled.

A long time Village brat steps forward and says, “What are we waiting for? Let’s go inside!” She takes the lead and the group follows. Once inside the waiting area, it looks just like an ordinary bar/restaurant. Another door faces them, temptingly ajar. The Village brat gingerly pushes it wider open, and they all poke their heads in a little to take a peek. Peachie catches her breath, followed by very audible collective exclamation.

The girls step into the Spanky’s …

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

To a brighter & happier 2023!!!

Dear readers: I took this picture sometime this year in Savannah, GA. Today is Christmas Eve of 2022 and here’s my invitation to you to participate in this little story. In the comment section, feel free to write one sentence, one paragraph, or a whole story! Let your creative juice flow abundantly and imagination soar freely. Whatever you write, just make it worth the dear old “Spanky’s” name. LOL

My little gift to Alyx’s Holiday Exchange:

Posted in Stories: Yearly Holiday Exchange | Tagged , , | 6 Comments


It’s been pouring the whole day. Standing in front of the window, Vik is debating whether to go to the holiday party or not. Though she looks calm, her mind is not. She finds her resolve see-sawing with each crack of the thunder and each flash of the lightning.

This is not an ordinary Xmas party. This is the coveted annual F/F spanking event catering to women spankos from her new city and the surrounding areas. It took Vik quite a bit of time searching online to find out if there’s an f/f spanking community in the city where she moved to a few months earlier. After learning about this event, she immediately signed up and paid her registration fee lest she changed her mind.

Moving back to the small kitchen, Vik makes herself a cup of chamomile tea. The subtle fragrance soothes her nerve as she takes a sip.

It’s been a long time since “Mia,” her spanky alter ego, left the scene when she was a 21-year-old college graduate. It seemed a lifetime ago, in a city over 2000 miles away, Vik reflects, when Mia was a fresh faced, high-energy bubbly spankee with a cute peachy bottom, a familiar presence in the community.

Cradling the warm teacup, Vik mouths “Mia, Mia.” Taking a deep breath, she whispers: Is this what you want, Vik, to return to the spanking community?

The answer comes more quickly than she intended: YES. I’m ready now. Her face breaks out into a smile as Vik puts the teacup down on the counter, her hand reflexively moving to gently touch her soft bottom cheek.

This will be the best Xmas present I give to myself.

Vik peels off her wet coat and hangs it up on one of the clothes hangers lying in a row at the entrance of the building. She takes a tentative step into the building. There are colorful Xmas decorations everywhere. Quickly fluffing her short hair with her fingers, Vik takes a deep breath and walks into the large room.

A familiar comforting warmth immediately embraces her.

A Xmas tree nestles by the window, golden and silver lights flickering on and off, accentuating the pretty ornaments on the green needles. Vik comes closer and her eyes widen at the little cute spoons and paddles dancing with the winking lights. Soaking in the sweet scent of the Douglas fir, Vik giggles quietly, her body and mind eased, her face slightly flushed and eyes turning brighter.

This feels like home!

“Newbies, please come with me.” A playful and friendly voice calls out. Vik turns around and sees a middle-aged woman directing traffic in the room. She is guiding several women towards a table where another woman stands holding some pamphlets.

Vik starts to follow them, then her feet slow down. A soft chuckle escapes her throat as she realizes that she’s not exactly a “newbie.” Turning around and walking toward the opposite side of the room, she joins a group of women chatting to each other excitedly. Judging by the ease of their body language, Vik knows instinctively these women are “old hands.”

“Hi there, my name is Aurora,” she extends her hand, liking the sound of her new name

“Aurora,” the Roman goddess of dawn, signifies a new beginning.

“Hi Aurora, nice to meet you,” the women are all very friendly and they exchange pleasantries.

A tall dark-haired woman introduces herself as “Dory” and says: “Are you new here, Aurora? Haven’t seen you around before.”

“I just moved here a few months ago.” Vik replies. “So yeah you can say I’m new. But I’m not new …” she pauses, feeling a nice and warm blush stroking her face, “you know, to this, to … spanking.”

There, I said it! When was the last time I said “spanking” out loud to another person?

“I see.” Dory says, noticing Vik’s pinking cheeks. “When were you eh… active last?” The woman winks.

Vik shifts her feet a little and takes a deep breath. “Ten years ago.”

“Whoa,” Dory exclaims. “Ten years!” She fixes an inquiring gaze at this newcomer but does not pry.

“Yeah, it’s been a while,” Vik’s answer is short. Then the group proceeds to join the festivities of the night.

The main event tonight is, of course, the mini spanking Marathon.

A row of three straight-backed chairs is set in the middle of the room with three tops sitting down, ready for the spanking relay.

After everyone receives their safeword, a line forms. Vik waits in the middle of the line, her heart fluttering. The room is noisy with women’s laughter and exaggerated shrieks and banters, rhythmic slapping sounds, and the familiar Xmas music booming in the background. But Vik’s mind is so focused on the relay she only hears deafening silence. It’s almost like watching a silent movie of swinging arms, wiggling naked bottoms, and kicking legs. Such a beautiful picture. Vik is transfixed.

“Your turn, young lady.” A sing-song voice brings Vik back from her reverie.

The first spanker is a middle-aged matronly looking lady, olive skin and shoulder length black hair. She flashes a friendly smile at Vik and waves.

Vik introduces herself to the top as the woman guides her to lie across her thighs.

A familiar sensation washes over her as Vik settles into her favorite position.

Ah, OTK, long missed.

“Aurora, such a pretty name,” the spanker says, her voice smooth.


The top gently pulls down Vik’s leggings followed by the VS lacy underwear, revealing a plump yet shapely globe.

“My, you’ve got a pretty bottom too, Aurora,” the woman marvels, delivering a few lazy smacks on both cheeks.

“Aw, thanks.” Vik lets out a long breath, her body relaxing.

Good to know nothing much has changed in the backside region.

The spanker raises her arm and brings down a resounding slap on the crown of Vik’s right cheek, followed by a similar one on the left cheek. They sting, more than they should be. Vik quips silently, her bottom must have gone back to its virginity due to inactivity.

The woman is quite chatty while delivering sharp slaps. She asks Vik if she likes hand spanking. “Yes, it’s my favorite type!” Vik replies enthusiastically, swaying her bottom side to side to diffuse the sting.

Mia always loved a good hand spanking.

After a few minutes, a small fire warms up Vik’s buttocks, sending heat to the rest of the body. The top stops smacking and gently pats the sore pink cheeks. “There, nicely warmed up.” She helps Vik stand up and be ready for the second spanker.

“That was great, thank you.” Vik beams, rubbing her backside, leggings and underwear bunched around her knees.

The second top is a younger-ish woman, blonde ponytail dangling in the back of her head.

“Hello Aurora.” She speaks with a hint of a slight Euro accent. “I love your name! When I was growing up in Iceland, we used to go to our cabin for Xmas and watch the northern lights dancing across the sky.” Her excitement is tinged with a sliver of nostalgia. “Have you been to see the aurora?”

“Not yet, but it’s on my bucket list.” Vik can’t help but feeling the contagious excitement from the Nordic lady, “Soon I hope.”

Vik settles into a comfortable position across a soft pair of thighs. The spanker slides her hand over the pink bottom, enjoying the view. It’s one of the many perks of being a spanking top, she quips.

Vik can hear the woman pick up an implement and she reflexively clenches her bottom cheeks bracing herself. “Relax,” the woman coos.

A quick sharp blow landed on Vik’s tender cheeks, WHAP! Ouch, Vik immediately recognizes the impact of a wooden ruler. Several more stinging smacks followed. Vik kicks her legs.

“Too much?” The top checks.

“It’s fine. Thanks for asking.” Vik replies.

Before long Vik’s bottom is burning. The top is thorough in covering every inch of the globe with her ruler. The ample derriere is now glowing a bright rosy hue.

“There, ready for the finale,” the Nordic spanker declares proudly, giving the bottom over her lap one last sharp WHAP.

Vik’s hand flies to the throbbing sore bottom cheeks and rubs vigorously. Thrilled, she stands up and shakes hand with the top, thanking her for the thorough attention paid to her buttocks. Both women have a broad smile on their faces. “Hope to see you around more, Aurora.”

“Same here,” Vik nods.

Continuing to rub her burning backside, Vik eyes the third top and the implement in her hand. Has Aurora’s bottom had enough for today? Vik ponders.

The last spanker looks a few years older than Vik, stylishly cropped brown hair, intense gaze, friendly demeanor. Vik scuffles to the chair, clothing now clustered around ankles. She presents herself.

“Nice to meet you, Aurora.” The woman has a rich and deep voice. “My name is Destiny. Please call me Des.” She helps Vik lower herself onto muscular thighs.

“Are you having fun?” Des examines the well spanked bottom.

“Oh, yes, I am.” Vik answers in earnest. “It’s been a while since …” Vik adds, overcome with emotions. Eyes becoming moist, Vik keeps her face down, staring at the floor.

“You okay there?” Des asks.

Vik takes a breath to calm herself down. “Yeah I’m fine. It’s just, … been a long time.”

Des nods. She understands that people will share their stories when they are ready. No need to push them. She picks up a short leather paddle and gives Vik a few trial whacks on the meatier part of the cheeks.

“Leather,” Vik blurts, excitement in her voice. “One of my favorite implements.”

“Mine too,” Des chuckles. Mimicking a top’s persona, she uses a stern tone, “Though I bet you won’t like it as much once I’m done with you!”

An electrifying current hits Vik’s core first, then spreads to the rest of her prone body.

Mia always craved for sternness in a top’s voice.

“I highly doubt that.” Vik murmurs, her brat side peeking out.

“Excuse me? Did you say something, young lady?”

“Nah.” Vik giggles and wriggles her hips.

Des does not waste any time. She lifts her arm and swings the leather paddle down in a perfect arch and it lands right in the middle of Vik’s bottom, covering both cheeks. The smack is authoritative and sharp.

“Ouch.” Vik’s head lifts upward involuntarily.

A volley of strong whacks hits the bottom in a rapid succession. Vik loves the feel of the smooth leather. But her bottom is getting really sore, so she tries to twist her hips to avoid the punishing paddle, but it lands exactly where Des intends each time.

An amused grin appears on Des’s face. “So, Aurora, have you been naughty lately?” Des asks in a playful voice.

“Um,” Vik plays along, “nah. I’ve been very good.” Then she adds “Too good actually.”

Des raises her eyebrows. “Why is that?”

“Well,” Vik remembers her Mia days like it was yesterday. “I used to be a real brat. But I haven’t been for … a very long time.”

Hm, Des thinks to herself, many spankees have laid on my lap tonight, but this one is a little different. This woman has a story she’s not quite ready to tell.

There are still several women waiting in the line, so Des continues to paddle the bottom for a minute and then brings the spanking to an end by aiming the last five blows to the sit spot on each cheek.

“Ow ow ow,” Vik yelps.

Des helps Vik get up and pull up her underwear and leggings, making sure to be gentle around the backside. A surge of happiness fills the heart and mind of the soundly spanked woman. She gives Des a heartfelt hug and whispers “Thank you,” a grateful tear trickling down her face.

“Hey, you’re welcome,” Des gently pats the well-taken-care-of bottom. “Listen, let me give you my number and maybe we can grab coffee sometime and talk, eh?”

“I’d like that,” Vik feels like she’s choking up.

The night is crisp and clear, the sky cleared after the rain. Fresh and moist air gently brushes Vik’s face. It’s almost midnight but Vik feels energized and giggly. She skips up the stairs to her apartment with easy strides.

I have returned home!

Vik is sure that someday soon she will call Des and tell her the story, the story of a brat named Mia.


This story is part of Alyx’s Annual Holiday Exchange here:

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Posted in Stories: Stand-alone, Stories: Yearly Holiday Exchange | Tagged , , , , , , | 14 Comments

In the Time of COVID-19

If you would like to know how Rosie and Dr. Ponsonby met, check out the story here: Another story on these two is here:

It was scribbled in bold black ink on the wall calendar: Week 9 of lockdown in her state. Rosie had just finished face time with her Top, Dr. Ponsonby, aka Dr. POP. It was always a highlight of her day to talk to Dr. P, albeit only virtually, during these trying times. They would exchange information on their favorite Netflix shows, LGBT books, free streaming concerts and the like, and lately, even recipes for dishes, breads, and pastries. All the chitchat helped distract them both from this surreal, dire situation unfolding in the country and the world.

Thinking back, Rosie Young firmly believed that the somewhat dramatic meeting with Dr. P at that spanking party a few years prior and subsequently becoming her Brat was absolutely the best event that had ever happened to her. Over the years, her attachment to her Top grew stronger and their bond tighter. She felt she’d been thriving ever since, in every way possible.

Though the situation in their city was not as grave as say, New York or the Midwest, the social distancing order was issued by the authorities and enforced by stiff penalties. Rosie and Dr. P both adhered to the safety guidelines and were vigilant about shelter-at-home recommendation. They did regular face time, but the hardest part for Rosie was that their bi-weekly maintenance session was gone. She missed it terribly. “Gone with the wind,” Rosie chanted with a dramatic gesture of sadness as she stood on her balcony, taking a break from work.

Most days Rosie was doing fine. She worked online full time, and in her extra two-hour spare time saved from commuting, she had plenty to do. Other than her favorite shows and readings, she took up sewing. Her grandma’s old Singer proved to be very useful as Rosie started making cloth face shields after seeing a FB post. Apparently, the local health workers needed homemade masks to put over their regular surgical ones. Rosie felt proud of herself for making a tiny contribution to the fight against COVID-19. So far she had made at least two dozens and dropped them off at the local health clinic. One day she found some old fabrics with pictures of children’s kitchen toys. She carefully cut out a couple pieces with little wooden spoons on the cloth and made two face covers for Dr. P. After she dropped them off in Dr. P’s mailbox, Rosie giggled in the car all the way back, imagining Dr. P’s reaction when she saw them.

Some days were tougher though. Too much doomscrolling made her feel irritable and weepy. And not having her TTWD maintenance routine was making things worse. This was an unusual circumstance, Rosie reminded herself on those days. Besides, Rosie Young was a mature adult with a responsible job, was healthy, and lived a productive life, she just needed to will herself to be strong and brave, and wait out this terrible period. However, she yearned for the over-the-knee position staring at the patterned carpet in Dr. P’s living room, the warmth of her Top’s hand on her bottom, and the happy rhythmic sound of stinging smacks, POP POP POP. She would give anything to be able to experience Dr. P’s loving care in administering a spanking, the care she took in choosing an implement, understanding Rosie’s body language, and especially the tender after care she offered. Rosie knew the hiatus was temporary, fingers crossed, but the yearning was so strong that sometimes she became restless and aimless. In the meantime, parallel to feeling sad, she also felt a tad embarrassed for being so needy and not tough enough.

Once, when the longing got ever so overwhelming, she blurted it out during their face time that perhaps it would not be too bad if they met for maintenance. “Let’s face it, Dr. P,” she had argued, “you and I are both healthy, and we’ve been staying home mostly, so the odds ….” But before she finished her sentence, Dr. P uttered a resounding “NO, I don’t think so, Missy,” accompanied by a firmly furrowed brow. However, Dr. P did bring up an alternative for Rosie to consider. How about virtual sessions? But Rosie vetoed it right away because she did not fancy spanking herself. “But I’ll give you detailed directions,” Dr. P gently coaxed, “it would be just like I’m right there, spanking you.” Rosie would not be persuaded though. “I know other people self spank and that’s fine, but me? Nah, it just doesn’t do anything for me!” So that was that. Rosie Young did not do self-spanking.

Sighing, Penelope Olive Ponsonby logged off her laptop after face time and stood up from her desk. These were terrible times for everyone. She tried her best to convert all her classes online, learning the technology along the way. Students needed a lot of support during the transition and Dr. P had been extremely patient and compassionate with her students. Off work, she did long overdue chores around the house like changing the tires on her bike and painting the deck. But it was getting harder to concentrate because her thoughts often drifted to her brat Rosie, and how she could better support her needs during this devastating social distancing period.

Thinking back of how they met, Dr. P chuckled. After that fun meeting at the spanking party, the professor and the student grew to know each other well. After Rosie finished her class, they officially started a Top/bottom TTWD relationship. As things progressed the two women had developed a strong bond with each other. The professor had grown to be truly fond of her former student. Tucking at her heart was how the brat lived with authenticity, and she really appreciated Rosie’s good heart, playfulness and perkiness, and her independent streak with a hint of vulnerability that popped up now and then. Right now, she knew Rosie was trying very hard to deal with not having their bi-weekly sessions during this difficult time. As an experienced Top, she was fully aware how important maintenance spankings could be in a brat’s routine under the normal circumstances, let alone the current situation.

During their face time today, her brat put on a brave face, but Dr. P was observant and noticed that Rosie’s eyes were not sparkling as they usually were, which meant that her brat was feeling out of sorts. “She really can do with a bottom-warming to lift her spirits,” the Top quipped to herself. Besides, the Top’s palm was also starting to get itchy for some slapping action. It had been nine weeks since their last maintenance session. “I’m so out of practice,” lamented the Top. How much longer before they could get back to the normal routine?

With a heavy heart, Dr. Ponsonby stepped out into her small garden and was immediately embraced by the roses in full bloom: a palette of red, pink, and fuchsia. The output this spring and early summer was truly extraordinary. Dr. P felt her spirits lifted somewhat by being outdoors, and the colors and fragrant scent of the roses mixed with the earthy freshness from next door neighbor’s neatly cut grass put her in a relaxed state, one she hadn’t experienced for a while. Despite what’s going on in the world, her little garden offered a quiet oasis, a place of solace. I must remember to pick some red roses and drop them off outside Rosie’s door, Dr. P said to herself. If taken good care of, these flowers could easily keep for a week or two in a vase. It might brighten Rosie’s day. The thought put a smile on the Top’s face. It was also to thank Rosie for the homemade face masks, yes, the ones with pictures of little wooden spoons on them. The Top chuckled affectionately.

As she was tending to the roses, a delivery truck pulled up to her driveway and the driver left a large box outside her garage door. Dr. P waved at the young driver as he backed out and drove away. Oh good, the new curtain and fixture had arrived. Lately, her two cats, Lady and Nico, had been extremely boisterous, tearing up the place while chasing each other. “Maybe they are thrilled that I’m home all day,” Dr. P reflected. “Or maybe exactly the opposite,” she snorted wryly. Anyway, one victim of the cats’ acting up was the curtain in the living room. It was pulled down, the thin material torn apart in several spots and the curtain fixture bent.

That evening, Dr. Ponsonby opened the box. The light yellow color of the new curtain offered a calm feeling, and she really liked the silky, smooth texture of the material, perfect for the summer. And in the second plastic bag, a silver colored adjustable curtain rod was packed snugly. Staring at her purchase, the Top grew quiet as her thoughts started to drift to something entirely different.

After she finished for the night, the new curtain was not up but Dr. P let out a satisfied chuckle and rewarded herself with a glass of her favorite Quarantini: a lemon honey martini.


On the following Saturday, Rosie found herself driving on an almost empty country road, her GPS showing her destination at five more miles up north. During their face time the previous day, Dr. Ponsonby told her to be at the Peachy Farm, owned by Dr. P’s former brat Carmen and her wife Raven. “Meet me at the parking pad and we can take a walk together around their property, 6 feet apart of course,” was how her Top put it.

The Peachy Farm was an impressive expanse of luscious farmland, with cow fields and chicken coops, nestled between a lake and a small forest. The air smelled of sweet fragrant pines, fresh and earthy. Juncos and blue jays and cardinals darted around chirping happily. In the distance a herd of cows mooed like choir practice.

It was a gorgeous sunny day. Both women wore t-shirts and shorts and of course donned face masks. With their sunglasses on, their faces were completely invisible, but Rosie did manage to giggle when she saw little toy spoons dancing around her Top’s face shield. Dr. P led them along a neat gravel trail. Though it was hard for them not being able to hug each other, they were very happy just to be out together, surrounded by nature. 

Half way into the 2-mile trail, Dr. POP slowed her pace. “Let’s take a break, Rosie.”

“Already?” Rosie said briskly before quickly adding “Sure thing, Dr. P,” suppressing her urge to tease the Top about being out of shape.

Dr. P let out a little snort. She pointed at a big tree branch that was down in a clearing and walked toward it.

“Look, there’s a red ribbon tied to the tree,” Rosie pointed out.

“Yes,” Dr. P nodded, her eyes smiling. “I told Carmen to leave a mark for us.”


“I want you to go and bend yourself over the branch. Got a treat for ya today.” Removing her dark shades, Dr. P retrieved a plastic bag from her backpack and took the curtain rod out. She pulled and adjusted it to its full length.

Rosie also removed her shades, her eyes growing wide.

“This baby is six and half feet long,” Dr. P announced triumphantly, eyes twinkling.

“I-i-is this …?” Rosie stuttered.

“Yes!” The Top took out a leather paddle, the one Rosie was very familiar with from past encounters, and securely attached the handle to the end of the rod with big, fat clear tapes.

Transfixed, Rosie stood agape, a warm feeling washing over her as the brat realized what her Top was planning to do.

 “Ok, this is an experiment, Rosie. I practiced in the garage a few times on a pillow and it seemed to work,” Dr. P flexed her wrist and parted her feet to position herself. “Please get yourself ready,” she instructed.

Rosie glanced around the clearing instinctively. A couple of cardinals, one orange and one grey, had come to rest on a branch nearby, curiously watching her and waiting. Blushing and giggling, Rosie lowered her upper body down and put her hands squarely on the sturdy branch.

“Leave your shorts on for now.”

Dr. POP held the rod with both hands, moving her feet to gain the best angle for the intended target. Once the aim was perfect, she swung her arms back and forth a couple times before whacking the leather paddle into Rosie’s bottom cheeks.

“Ouch” cried out Rosie. It was harder than she had anticipated.

“Oh, I’m sorry Rosie. Was it too hard?”

“No, it’s ok. I just didn’t expect it would work so … eh effectively.” Rosie rubbed her rear end.

Firmly gripping the rod, the Top swung again. Whap! a sharp whack landed on the meatiest part of Rosie’s bottom, causing another “ouch” from her.

Grinning, Dr. P felt relieved. This little creation of hers might just work wonders. Sure, the long rod wobbled a bit and she needed to think of a way to reinforce her grip. But that’s for later.

“Alright, time to pull down your shorts, kiddo.”

Rosie obliged. The leather paddle rained down blow after blow on her eager bottom. The whacks were sharp but Rosie the brat embraced them with her customary aplomb. The bottom cheeks jiggle with each spank.

“Please raise your bottom a bit more, Rosie,” Dr. P’s voice echoed in the clearing. The brat happily complied. The familiar stinging sensation brought such a relief to her that tears started to roll down her covered face. Rosie lay her head down on the branch, whimpering turning into guttural sobbing, the tension from the last nine months quietly dissipating from her body and soul.

Before long, Rosie realized the spanking had stopped. She turned around to see Dr. P rubbing her eyes, the silver rod lying on the ground, glistening in the sunlight.

Dr. POP so wished she could give her brat a big hug and hold her. Waving and blowing kisses at her, the Top knew that release was what Rosie had needed. Dr. POP was glad this little experiment had turned out pretty successful. Okay, there were a few minor technical issues to be fixed but the Top was confident this was a promising beginning.

After Rosie pulled her shorts back up and dried her eyes, Dr. P told her the story of how her inspiration came to be. Rosie cherished every word the Top relayed, how Dr. P’s eyes lit up when the curtain rod was unfolded, how she held it in her hand, swinging a few times and it felt light but sturdy, how Dr. P took a measuring tape out of the drawer, how many times she tried different tapes to secure the leather paddle handle onto the rod and finally decided on the industrial strength tape, and how she called her former brat and Carmen and Raven immediately offered their farm and even recommended a secluded spot, and voilà, here they were.

When they got back to the parking pad, the women found a basket sitting between their cars. Neatly arranged in it were two paper bags of a dozen fresh eggs each, two slices of peach pies wrapped separately, two bottles of home brewed beer, and a little jar with a note “For Rosie’s you-know-what. LOL” attached to it. “Ah, Arnica,” Dr. P noted wryly, “from Carmen the Brat of course.”

If happiness had a voice, it was Rosie singing along with the CD in the car. Her bottom was sore from contacting the hard seat but the smile on her face was the wildest since the beginning of the pandemic. Maybe Carmen and Raven would let them use the farm again, Rosie thought. Dr. POP did mention she was going to order another rod for her new curtain.

I’m so lucky to have Dr. Ponsonby in my life, Rosie reflected with gratitude. Feeling rejuvenated with new hope, she hit the gas pedal hard on the empty road. “Damned COVID-19, you’re not gonna stop me getting my bottom whacked,” giggled Rosie the Brat. Things would get better from today on, she was sure of it.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Peach’s Corner is a proud participant of Alyx’s Annual Christmas Exchange:

Posted in Stories: Rosie and Dr. P, Stories: Yearly Holiday Exchange | Tagged , , , , , , , | 17 Comments

Dancing on Ice

Christmas is undeniably in the air in our apartment, what with a freshly cut Douglas fir tree installed smack in the middle of our cozy living room, and festive music softly playing. My toppy girlfriend Tessa is stirring a garlic infused tomato sauce in the pan, a pot of hot water standing by ready for linguini, my favorite type of pasta. Tonight, after dinner, Tess and I are gonna decorate the tree with our respective ornaments, collected over the years by each of us. It is the first Xmas holiday after we moved in together last fall.

“Smells so good, Tess!” I skip into the kitchen and exclaim. Trying to peel off my tight, glittering skating attire, I almost lose footing before grabbing my girlfriend from behind.

Admittedly I’m a bit pumped up right now ‘cause the college ice skating team just finished our last performance of the year, and it was a smashing success. I mean, the applause from the audience was, to use a cliché here, deafening.

“Hey honey,” Tessa turns around and wraps me in her arms, a beaming smile on her lovely face. “I’m making your favorite clam sauce. How was the show?”

“It was great!” I gush and continue to remove all my clothes.

“Quick shower,” she gives me an encouraging pat on the bottom. “Dinner soon.”

Tess is a fantastic cook, particularly with Italian food. The pasta dinner today is a real treat. I finish quickly.

“Ok, let’s get started on the tree,” I stand up from the table, smacking lips and rubbing a full stomach. “I’ll clear the table and do the dishes later.”

Tessa’s eyebrow rises as she looks at me, her eyes slightly narrowing. “Not so fast, Molly.”

“Whatcha mean?”

“We have unfinished business, remember?” Her look is only semi-serious, a tint of amusement flashing in her eyes.

I swallow. Oh darn, right.

“Aw, but you didn’t say it’s tonight.” I pout: “You only said ‘another day’.”

“Well, I’m saying it now!” Tess casts a firm glare in my direction, but I can detect a small mirth around her mouth.

“But we’re supposed to decorate the tree tonight,” I continue to stall.

“We are still doing that,” she stands up from the table too, scoffing: “after our discussion.”

I sigh, resigning myself to the idea that I would have to work on the tree with a sore bottom tonight.

“Come on, Mo.” She moves closer and quips: “You clearly didn’t learn your lesson PROPERLY yesterday.” She shakes her head and winks at me, giving me a playful whack on the butt: “Go fetch that spatula, would you? You know where it is.”

Of course I do. Trotting to the kitchen somewhat reluctantly, my thought goes to last night and I start to giggle.

Well, yesterday I had a serious rehearsal for today’s performance, a special holiday show for the local Girl Scouts troops and their families, and residents and staff of the senior centers in town and their families. The university women’s ice-skating team was on fire, partly due to the relief we all felt now that the final exams were behind us and partly due to the upcoming holidays that we could now properly look forward to celebrating. I was practicing solo on ice, doing all kinds of spinning, even the fancy ones that I hadn’t been successful in accomplishing before. Born and raised in Michigan, I’ve been ice skating for as long as I can remember. It’s hard to describe in words the thrilling sensation I experience on ice, maybe something like “flowing” or “floating” would be the closest to an appropriate way to accurately express the freedom the mind feels while the body is gliding across the ice.

Taking a break, I sat down on the bench and checked my phone. There was a text from Tessa. The message was simple and short: When you coming back? It was sent an hour earlier.

I pressed her number. Tessa picked up right away, “On your way, Hon?”

“Not yet, Babe.” I was still panting. “Another hour or so. What’s up?”

A very slight and subtle pause, followed by a restrained casual “Nothing, never mind. See ya when you get back.”

I knew her well enough. Something was up all right.

But I was called back to practice right after the phone call. Any curiosity or misgiving I may have entertained was swept away by the music and the energy engulfing me in the rink.

When I finally came home, Tessa was on the phone ordering Chinese.

“Hey Tess!” I whispered and planted a kiss on her cheek.

“How was the rehearsal?” She mouthed.

I formed a circle with my thumb and forefinger.

“Singapore noodle ok for you?” Tessa asked. She knew it’s one of my favorite Chinese dishes.

I nodded. “Thanks. Gonna shower now. Be down soon.”

After my shower, I put on comfy clothes and we sat down to eat. I dug in the yellow mound of tangy noodles before taking a big swig of ice-cold beer. The cool smooth liquid washed down the spicy food perfectly.

I looked up at Tess, “So how was your day?”

“My day?” She slowly twirled her fork on the Moo Goo Gai Pan while staring at me intensely.

I remembered her voice on the phone.

“Um, you worked from home today, right?” I asked tentatively.

“Right,” her eyes continued to rest on my face. “I worked on my dissertation for a while, and then I had to go to the bathroom.” Her eyes narrowed a little and focused on mine exclusively.

“You had to go to the bathroom?” Utterly confused, I repeated slowly. “So … what happened?”

“What happened was I had to sit on the toilet for … quite a while.” She stopped moving her fork: “A lot longer than I intended to actually.” The fork was thrust into a piece of chicken before she added an emphatic: “Unnecessarily!”

“Huh? Why? You got tummy trouble?” I truly had no earthly idea what my girlfriend was getting at!

Tessa stood up and went to the kitchen. A drawer was opened loudly and after some busy rustling, my vanilla-turned-toppy-spanko girlfriend came back, holding a wooden spatula in her right hand.

WTH? My stomach tensed.

“Come with me, Molly,” she said calmly, steering me to the couch in the living room. She sat down and skillfully coaxing my body over her knees.

“Hey!” I protested and flailed my legs, “What’s going on?!”

“Don’t worry, Mo. I’ll explain to you while I have your full attention.” She started to pull down my sweatpants: “Do you know why I texted you?” Her voice was calm but carried a little bit annoyance.

“Yeah, ‘cause you wanted to know when I’d come home.” I wriggled a little trying to balance my body into a comfortable position.

“True, but there’s more …” she drew out while rubbing my panty-clad bottom. It felt nice, really nice. I could get used to receiving a nice rubbing after a hard rehearsal.

“Tell me already, Tess!” I begged, half pouting. What kind of game was she playing?

“You know why I stayed in the bathroom longer than needed?” Her voice was raised, almost to the level of indignation. Whack, a sharp slap landed on my butt cheek.

“Ouch.” I fought the instinct to reach for my assaulted rear end. “Why?”

“Because … you didn’t do your job properly!” Whack, a second slap landed on the other bottom cheek, sharper than the last one.

“Ouchyyy! Wait, whatcha talking about? What job?” I turned my head back to look at her inquiringly.

She stared back and said slowly, in a clear voice, “The. Toilet. Paper.”

Comprehension hit me like a bolt of lightning from the Christmas red and green lights bursting out in their fullest and riches colors. Ah, my job indeed! Refilling and restocking the toilet paper in the bathroom was one of my designated jobs, always.

No wonder she was annoyed. Imagine how awkward …!

My first reaction was to ask her about all the details surrounding the incident, like what exactly was she doing and how the issue was resolved, or not resolved. But given my precarious position at the moment, I chose the wiser course of action and didn’t let myself indulge in vivid imagination, not just yet. Instead I wanted to remedy the situation fast. Slinking off her knee, quick as a little fox, I apologized: “Sorry, I got new packages in my car. Forgot to bring them in last night.” I made to run towards the door, “Let me get them.”

Tess put up a hand to stop me: “Get back, Molly, NOW.”

I paused. Tess pointed at her knees, “Back to your position, Mo. I didn’t say you could leave.” She sounded almost irritated.

I lay myself down obediently over her thighs. “Sorry Tess,” I groveled. “I’ll get them later then.”

“No worries, I bought some already, in case you haven’t noticed.” She added, “Had to make a trip to the store, unplanned.”

I again tried to make myself comfortable on my girlfriend’s firm thighs. For some reason, I felt particularly chatty at that moment to defend myself. “See it’s not really my fault ‘cause I had bought a large packet. It’s just been sitting in the car.”

“That may have been the case,” snickered Tessa, “however, the outcome was the same, wasn’t it?” WHACK! WHACK!

“Ouchy.” I conceded the point, “Okay, point taken. I’m sorry.”

“You know how awkward it was, huh? Sitting on the toilet and realizing there was no darn toilet paper anywhere in the bathroom?!” Tessa interjected her questions with indignant slaps on my poor bottom. “Or anywhere in the entire apartment for that matter!” She delivered an especially hard smack to match the grave nature of the said situation that had just been described.

Here’s a chance to find out what happened, down to the last detail! I perked up and asked: “So … what did you do?” As the question popped out of my mouth, I was overcome by an imagined scene in which my toppy girlfriend sat on the toilet seat, seething and perhaps cursing me, frantically trying to figure out a decent solution after she’d finished what I could only assume, um … a serious business.

Despite my true remorse, and against all the strength I could possibly muster to suppress it, a hearty chuckle managed to escape my throat.

Not a desirable situation for me.

“You think it’s funny?!” Tessa snorted and her hand slapped my bottom with deliberate, loud, hard smacks, repeatedly.

“Ow ow ow.” I wriggled my hips left and right, trying to avoid the whacks raining down. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it.” I pleaded lamely.

After a flurry of sharp blows on my poor backside, Tess stopped spanking and pulled down my panties. “Ah, a red bottom already.” She picked up the spatula and declared menacingly: “But not red enough!”

My heart sank ‘cause I needed to keep my bottom in pristine condition for tomorrow. I resorted to appealing to her common sense: “You can’t really spank me hard ‘cause remember the show tomorrow? For the kids and senior citizens?”

“Nice try.” The spatula struck down on my buttocks, three times on one cheek and another three on the other. “But that’s not until tomorrow afternoon. By then your bottom will look perfectly normal. We both know that!”

She’s right, my butt recovers fast from a spanking, almost too fast. Sometimes I really wish the color could stay a bit longer.

“Although,” Tessa slowed down on walloping, “your point is well taken.” I always knew she was a reasonable top! “We’ll continue with the hand tonight and then finish it up another day with the spatula.”

“Thank you for your thoughtfulness,” I stuck out my tongue knowing she couldn’t see it, although my gratitude was sincere.

SLAP, SLAP, she proceeded to whack my naked bottom with her strong hand, the sound carrying a delightful rhythm.

“You know there are consequences if you don’t do your job correct, right?” Tessa lectured while keeping up the stinging smacks. I noticed she was spreading the smacks evenly all over, from the top to the sit spots.

“I know I know.” I kicked my legs.

Tessa’s hand was amazingly strong and the smacks forceful.

I clutched her legs tightly, backside on fire. “Owi, enough already. It hurts.”

She paused and patted my spanked buttocks, admiring her handiwork, “Ah, a perfect red bottom. What a beautiful sight.” Then she burst into a delighted chortle while continuing to rub my cheeks. “I bet a spanked bottom would be a welcome view on ice, like a special holiday treat, don’t you think, baby?” Though I couldn’t see her face, I could easily tell the wicked amusing smirk in her voice.

“Meanie,” I grumbled.

Tessa’s words stuck in my mind though. Slowly they began to flow together and became human-like forms dancing and twirling, shaping into a colorful visual in front of me. I could feel Tessa’s hand still rubbing my sore backside but my mind was adrift. Then my body soared, levitating to the ice rink where, like watching a slow motioned silent film, I could see a skating performance unfold. Squinting my eyes, I could make out a petite skater, could be me in fact, gliding across the ice skillfully with abandon. She bent her knees and moved around rapidly in circles with aplomb, the short mini skating skirt barely covering her bottom. And when the golden skirt flared up during a twirl, a perfectly round, well-spanked peachy bottom was on display, shining brightly under the fluorescent lights. Folding and unfolding, the crimson-colored floating glory of a globe was spellbinding, and the audience loved it. Though there was no sound, I could sense the palpable rhythm of the clapping and roaring approval from the audience, threatening to bring the place down.

A tingling started in my nether area, then a shooting tension amid rising warmth pierced my lower body. The muscles in my hips contracted. Butt cheeks tightly clenched, I closed my eyes ready to brace the cascading waves. Whoosh, here they came, cradling my body up and further up until the tides carried me over the crest, and landed me above the clouds. I opened my eyes and looked down at the ice rink. All I could see was a red bottom peeking out of the golden flaring skirt, getting bigger and bigger until it covered the entire ice rink. I blinked and thrust my head upwards. The surge was slow and liberating through the clouds. I rode with the avalanche, dangling in the air for a few seconds, and then my body descended with a gentle and soft landing. The release was complete, the moaning long and primal. My body went limp, my breathing heavy with whimpering.

I heard Tessa’s voice calling me. “OMG, Molly! Did you … did you just …?” I opened my eyes and found myself face to face with Tessa who was holding me in her arms, an incredulous expression on her face.

Eyes widened, I nodded excitedly, letting out a deep breath, my limp body still shrouded in the incredibly pleasurable sensation of the climax.

Tessa pulled me deeper into her chest, “Whoa Mo. That’s a first!” She grinned and touched me down there before showing me her dripping fingers. “Can’t believe you just came over my knee, baby!” She chuckled and added: “We didn’t even have sex!”

A flush rose to my cheeks: “You’re the one who made it happen, Tess! I guess it must’ve been the combination of what you said and ya know, the spanking. Especially what you said.”

“I always knew you were such an exhibitionist! But still.” My girlfriend patted my bottom playfully, shaking her head.

What can I say? Public display of a spanked bottom has always been a favorite fantasy of mine.

I gently kissed Tess on the lips. “Love you, Tess.”

“Love you too, Mo.” She opened her mouth and ushered me in.

My toppy girlfriend held me as I snuggled and burrowed into her, giggling, “Does this mean the spanking is over?” Yawning, I suddenly felt exhausted.

“For now, I guess.” She lifted me up and took my hand, steering me into our bedroom. “We will finish this discussion another day.”

I barely heard her before falling into a slumber.

“Give me the spatula,” Tessa has followed me into the kitchen and her commanding voice brings me back from last night. “We need to make sure that you take your chores seriously.”

Especially when it comes to The Toilet Paper, I wanted to add.

I reluctantly hand her the implement, trying to look serious. Let’s admit that the whole toilet paper thing was funny.

Tess must have detected the grin on my face that I’m trying so hard to suppress, because she waves the kitchen tool at me, warning: “Molly!”

“I AM taking it seriously. I said I was sorry.”

She directs me to place my hands on the edge of the counter and my feet apart to support my upper body. My backside finds itself displayed in a vulnerable position, perfect for Tess and the spatula, obviously.

Satisfied with my compliance, she pulls down my sweatpants to rest around my ankles. A few trial swats land on my panty-clad bottom as Tess adjusts her grip on the handle.

“Now Molly, you know why you’re getting this spanking right?” SMACK! SMACK!

“Ow, yeah.”

“Yeah what?” More smacks follow.

“Yeah I know why, Tess.” I follow her lead and show my obedience.

Any toppiness from Tess must be encouraged!

“I want you to promise me it will never happen again,” Tess delivers a few sharp blows.

I pledge: “I solemnly swear, from this day forward, the toilet paper will never run out in our house.”

We both burst out laughing. Tessa catches her breath and leaves the spatula on the counter. She bends down a little to peel off my underwear: “Time for bare bottom.”

The darned implement manages to zero in on the meatiest part of my rear end and makes my cheeks jiggle. I ow loudly and alternately curl up my legs.

After Tess lights a small fire on my bare butt, she stops spanking and gives my sore bottom a nice rub.

I bend down to pull up my clothes but Tessa stops me. “No need for those tonight, Mo,” she says with a wicked glint in her eyes, “’cause we are decorating the tree with your red bottom uncovered.”

Wow I didn’t see this coming. My toppy girlfriend is such a quick learner!

Complying without hesitation, I do have enough decency to blush a little and double check that all the window drapes were closed.

First, I’m ordered to stock the bathroom cupboard with packets and packets of toilet paper, neatly. Then I am asked to bend down to open boxes and boxes of Xmas ornaments. Of course I had to stand drinking eggnog and eating ice cream while Tess took a break on the couch.

Life is so unfair!

All through the evening every time we cross paths, Tess gifts a few teasing swats, loudly, on my bare bottom cheeks. The ensuing giggles from both of us threaten to drown out the soft Xmas music playing in the apartment.

It’s a perfect holiday night.

Though I never did find out the details of the toilet paper crisis!

Happy Holidays!

This story is part of Alyx’s Annual Christmas Exchange here:

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Happy Easter y’all!

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Happy Slappy Boxing Day

This is the 4th story in the Molly and Tessa series. It follows immediately after the third story. Enjoy! 🙂

First story “An Early Xmas Present” here

Second story “Quantum of Solace” here

Third story “Rosy-Cheeked Christmas” here



I glance down at my phone. “Hi Molly, this is Diana, Mag’s mum. You girls up for a visit tonight?”

I blink, before recognition hits.

“Who’s that from, Mo?” Tessa asks, seeing my temporary puzzlement.

“Remember that cute kid?”

“Which cute kid?”

“The kid on the beach from yesterday, ya know, Mags.”

“Oh, yeah.” She blushes, subtly. I know exactly why.

“Her mom, the spanko woman, remember?” I wink. “Diana. She wants to know if she can come over.”

“Wait, what?” My girlfriend’s greenish gray eyes grow wide, brow raised.

“We, well …, I … did invite her, kinda.” I remember exchanging our phone numbers after she told us they were in Room 388.

“You think that’s a good idea, Mo?” Tessa asks, the hint of a small frown between her eyes.

Is she kidding?! I am ELATED.

“Oh c’mon Tess. How often do we get to meet another spanko woman?” I plead. “Di was really nice and friendly on the beach, remember?”

“That’s true, she was,” Tess agrees. “The woman seemed normal enough.”

“So shall I reply and say yes?” I beg hopefully.

“Yeah fine, go ahead.” She adds, with a touch of intrigue, as if to reassure herself, “Why not?!”


Doorbell rings. I open the door and Diana breezes in.

“Happy Boxing Day, girls!” Crisp British accent rings out as we hug each other.

Tess and I exchange a look. What’s up with Boxing Day?

Seeing our puzzlement, Diana explains cheerfully, “Boxing day comes from the old days when upper-class families let their servants have a day off after Xmas, and they go home with ‘Christmas boxes,” meaning gifts from their employers to their families.” The British woman has a pleasant easy-going demeanor as she continues, “The Commonwealth countries all celebrate Boxing Day. I know you lot don’t in the States.” She chuckles, making her face look soft and warm.

Our guest stands at about Tessa’s height, which is to say 4 inches taller than me. However, she is more round with soft shoulders to Tessa’s muscled body. She looks slightly older now in regular clothes than on the beach, maybe early 40-ish I’d say. Clad in beige shorts and a light brown tank top, short dirty blonde hair neatly tucked behind ears, Diana looks casual and unassuming. Her open face is warm and friendly, pale golden brown eyes shining and freckled nose gleaming.

“Thank you for the explanation. That was very interesting, Di.”

“Not at all, Tess. My pleasure.”

“Where’s Mags?” I ask, remembering that adorable little girl.

“She’s with her other mum, sound asleep after a busy day.” Diana replies as she is led to the small sitting area of our Airbnb apartment.

“So …” Tess draws out after we are all seated. “What do you guys usually do on Boxing Day?”

“Oh, just lounging around doing nothing really, eating left-overs mostly.” Diana shakes her head. “However, if you google Boxing Day, it also says and I quote, ‘Boxing Day is also a time when the British show their eccentricity by taking part in all kinds of silly activities.’” She winks at us meaningfully, a mischievous smile perching on her lower lip. “I thought today we can do something special, if you girls are up to it.”

Wow she’s pretty direct. I like that.

Tessa is intrigued. “What do you have in mind?”

Di reaches into a small clutch bag and retrieves a …

What in the world in that?

“Ta-da,” she makes an up and down motion with a … stick, a thin stick.

“Never go anywhere without my baton.” She then clarifies. “I’m a

choral director at the college.”

A baton! That’s a new one for us.

I eye the thin stick in her hand. It’s about 10-12 inches long with a nice Rosewood handle. To tell the truth, it looks rather tiny and harmless.

“So … are you like a … a traveling …?” I stammer under breath, suddenly remembering Alyx’s super top story.

“Huh?” Di looks at me inquiringly.

Good thing she didn’t hear me.

“Nothing,” I mumble.

“Well,” Di smiles at Tess encouragingly. “What do you think eh? Want to try my baton?”

“You mean as a spanking implement.” Tessa states the obvious.

“Yes,” Di answers emphatically. “And I would say that you and Molly are both in trouble.” She waves the baton in half circles like she’s conducting but keeps her golden brown eyes on Tessa.

“What do you mean?” Tessa’s question comes before I pipe up with my own. “Yeah, what are we in trouble for?” Somehow my voice carries a higher pitch than usual.

I’m so in!

I think Tess has caught my hidden brat excitement ‘cause she glares at me with a familiar smirk.

“For the rosy bottom on the beach yesterday, of course!” Di exclaims, using an exaggerated tone and expression, freckled-nose wrinkling. “Imagine little Mag seeing that!” She shakes her head, mocking disapproval.

Boy, we got ourselves a top!

I shiver and steal a glance at my girlfriend. Tess looks surprised, but there’s a tiny bit of curious playfulness in her eyes too.

I start to play along.

“Well ma’am,” I clear my throat.

Diana’s face breaks into a big grin at my use of the deferential term.

“You see, not my fault cos I had wrapped a towel on my um … “

“Spanked bottom?”

“Yeah, she did. But the wind really picked up,” Tess chimes in to my defense.

Good for her to play along. I’m so proud of my girlfriend.

“Well, you should’ve wrapped it tighter then, shouldn’t you, Molly? And you Tessa, as Molly’s top, tsk, tsk, should’ve kept a better eye on your brat!” She looks at Tess intently, her eyes smiling playfully.

“Yeah well. Blame Ruth Ware.” Tess retorts, all smirks.

OMG, my toppy girlfriend has reduced to a brat!

“Huh?” Diana is confused. “Who’s that?”

“She’s the British author who wrote The Woman in Cabin 10, the book I was reading.” Tess holds Di’s gaze, her eyes twinkling. “Great book by the way. You should read it sometime.”

Diana narrows her eyes and twirls the baton in the air. “I see, argumentative, are we? Looks like I’ve got the work cut out for me.” She says slowly, enunciating each word clearly and her eyes are inquiring.

I nudge Tess and whisper, “C’mon, Tess. Let’s play.”

Tessa straightens her body upwards and laces her hands behind her head. “Well, I’m pretty sure Molly here is more than happy to oblige, isn’t that right babe?” she gives me a wink and pokes me in the rib.

“You know I am,” I poke her back, eyeing Di shyly.

Di gives me a big grin and nods. “What about you, Tess?”

“Me? Honestly Di, I’m not sure. You know I’m the spanker, you guys call it a top, in this relationship.”

“I know,” Diana nods, ruffling her short tress and leaning back on the chair. “Molly got you into this whole top/brat spanking business, didn’t she? You girls don’t switch, I reckon.”

“How did you know?” Tess and I ask in chorus, attention drawn.

Di chuckles. “Yesterday after I talked to you, I thought the names Molly and Tessa sounded familiar. So I checked on the blogs and bingo, found Molly’s stories on Alyx’s Christmas Gift Exchange.”

Dang, she’s right. I’ve got three stories about me and Tessa on the Gift Exchange. So she knows I practically bratted my perfectly unsuspecting girlfriend into a top!

I’m speechless and blushing profusely. Tessa leans in, planting a kiss on my cheek. “Yup, that’s my brat. She did turn me into a top, a top with a constant itchy palm no less.” Tess says affectionately. “She’s a good writer though, isn’t she?”

“Yes, the stories are brilliant!”

I’m buzzed.

“Well then,” Di says cheerfully and moves to sit down on the edge of the sofa.

“Look Tess, I understand. No pressure, ok? Just promise to think about it. If you’d like to try the receiving end, just say the word and I’m here to oblige.” Diana’s lower lip bends into a grin.

“Thank you so much, Di, for your understanding. Let me think about it and see how it goes, and thank you for the OFFER.” Giggling, Tess pronounces the last word emphatically.

“Trust me, it would please me no end spanking two naughty bottoms, but honestly, I’d be just as stoked to settle for one willing brat at all.” Di situates herself and then looks in my direction expectantly.

Tess nudges me up towards the sofa with a swift swat on the bottom. “Off you go, Mo.”

Di flexes her wrist and rests the baton on her palm. “This baby is ready. Are you, Molly darling?”

She pats her knee, her eyes glinting. I sashay my way toward her.


I’m staring at the faded pink carpet with roses woven all over it, my mid-section supported by two sturdy knees.

“How about a warm-up with my hands?” Diana’s soft voice rings out.

“Sure.” The upside down position turns my answer into a mumble.

“Pardon me?” The voice is sharp now, followed by a crisp slap on my bottom cheeks.

I quickly correct myself. “Sure Ma’am.”

I hear Tessa chuckle. “My Mo is a quick learner.”

I turn my face to my girlfriend, winking.

“That’s better, thank you Molly. Before we start, I’d like you to choose a safe word.” Diana instructs, her left hand resting on my lower back.

Tessa and I don’t have a safe word. I try to think of a clever word. Failing that, I just blurt out “Tim Tam.”

Laughter erupts from both women.

“We’ve got ourselves a sweets lover here, haven’t we?” Diana quips. “I didn’t know you have those in the States, to be honest.”

Before I reply, Tessa offers. “Molly orders those from Amazon. Freshly imported from Aussie, we are told.”

“Very well, Tim Tam it is.” Diana’s voice beams. “Feel free to use it anytime Molly. Here we go, missy.”

I feel her palm come down and hit the seat of my shorts. The impact carries no sting at all initially. After a dozen or so slaps, I can feel the pleasure of my bottom becoming warm. She stops. “Time to get rid of these shorts.”

I arch my hips and my shorts are duly removed, revealing my new VS thong that Tessa gifted me for Xmas.

“Ah, I see. No need to remove the knickers.” Diana sounds amused.

Tessa teases me. “Sweetie, you are wearing the perfect panties today.” Then she marvels in awe, “And guess what, your cheeks are already pinkish, Mo.”

I stick out my tongue at her.

“Yes, they are. Pretty eh? Another dozen or so should do to get you properly warmed up.” So saying, Diana’s palm starts descending seriously on my exposed backside, one cheek at a time. I can hear the crisp POP POP sound and feel my cheeks jiggle at the impact. The sound seems to get louder with each smack, bouncing off the wall and echoing through the room. Each slap brings a little more sting than the previous one, nothing I can’t handle though.

Heat is starting to build, making me imagine there’s a small bonfire building on my upturned buttocks.

A pause. “I must admit it feels so good to have a brat draped over my knee!” Diana gushes. Then she sighs, “I haven’t played for a long time. You see, Sara, my partner, was a complete vanilla when we first met in the university, like you Tessa, I suppose. I managed to turn her into a spanko, a somewhat reluctant spanko, mind you.” Diana’s voice carries a dreamy tone as she travels down the memory lane.

“Are you always a top?” Tessa asks.

“Pretty much, most of the time. Although we do switch occasionally when her toppy side strikes her fancy.” Diana sings out and laughs. “But since Mags came along, we really haven’t had much chance to play at all.”

“I bet.” Tess nods in sympathy.

Di resumes her attention on me. She delivers a flurry of stinging smacks to my bottom, covering both cheeks. SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!

My bottom starts to feel a bit sore. My body shifts slightly.

Diana catches that and stops smacking. “You doing ok, Molly?”

“Yes, ma’am. All good.” I reply gallantly.

“Fantastic! Now tell me why you’re over my knee and getting spanked.” Her voice is still smooth, but her tone turns stern.

I roll my eyes. Here we go. I’ll play.

“Ma’am, I showed the whole wide world my red bottom.” I almost can’t contain my mirth, and I hear Tessa’s muffled snicker too.

“That’s right missy! It’s called lewd conduct or indecent exposure in public. I reckon my darling Mags is scarred for life because she can’t un-see your spanked bottom now, can she?” A sharp smack on my sit spot. Dang, that hurt.

“I guess she can’t, ma’am,” I try to sound repentant. “And I’m sorry.”

“What if Mags turns into a spanko because of this?” Diana follows the question with another brisk slap on my other sit spot. Ouch. My hand wants to fly itself to cover my cheeks, but I know better.

“Well, ma’am,” I huff. “If Mags indeed turns out to be a spanko, it would be more likely because of your genes.”

“Oh?” Her hand stops slapping and rests on my bottom. “I’ll bite. Tell me how so.”

I lift my head up and turn towards her. “I read that spanking proclivity is a genetic thing, ma’am. We are born with it, seriously.”

A pause, and then she raises her hand and smacks my bottom again. “That may be the case; however, I also read that although one might be predisposed by the said gene, it would still need to be activated by some external stimuli. So I reckon your red bottom could very well be a trigger, if indeed Mags has a spanko gene.” SLAP! SLAP!

Dang, she knows a little about genes. I’ll give her that.

“Well I dunno ‘bout that, ma’am. Ask Tessa.” My girlfriend is a graduate student in a related field.

Tessa slips into her lecturing tone. “In theory, yes, you are both right. However, there’s no empirical evidence to indicate that there’s in fact a spanko gene, as in say, genes for certain types of cancer or a particular mental disorder.”

“But there’s a lot of first hand testimonial evidence, isn’t there?” Diana inquires.

“Yes, I suppose so,” Tessa concedes. “All you need to look is spanking blogs and forums on the internet. Most people, women especially, seem to claim they were born like that.”

“Me me. I’m one of them.” I turn my body around to join in the conversation.

“Hey missy, stay where you are.” Diana turns me back and plants a loud slap on my cheeks. “We’re not finished.”

“Sorry, just sayin’,” I screech.

“Seriously though, I’ve got no concerns about Mags at all. That was just play.” Diana is semi laughing. “I mean if she does turn out to be a spanko, it would be a blessing I reckon! I mean life’d be more interesting and richer, as we all know.”

I agree enthusiastically and so does Tessa. “Yeah we knew you were kinda joking, Di. But imagine how much more fun y’all can have if Mags IS a spanko!”

“For some reason, that thought makes me shudder!” Di quips, putting on a trembling voice.

All three of us dissolve into a hearty laughter.

After another dozen or so sound smacks, my bottom cheeks feel properly lit up and the heat gives them a steady stinging sensation.

“There,” Diana swoons, “nice and smooth, beautiful color. I do enjoy a brat’s red arse. A top’s privilege, you reckon, Tess?”

Tessa cackles. “Mo does have a gorgeous bottom, a ripe peachy really.” She proceeds to put her hand on my sore spots like she’s inspecting a piece of artwork. “Mm, you did a really good job, Di. The whole area is evenly covered and so smooth, the color is perfect too!”

“Why thank you, Tess. I try my best to please.” Di intones.

“I’ve still got a long way to go eh, it would seem.” Tess is half joking, expressing her signature self-deprecation.

I pipe up. “But you’ve come a long way from when we first met, Tess!” I lift my head so they can both hear me clearly. “I love you, my toppy girl.”

“Yeah, well, that is true, and I love you too, my bratty girl.” My girlfriend replies affectionately.

Diana gently pats me on the back. “Time for the baton then.” She guides me off her lap, my shorts bunched just above my knee. “Molly darling, would you mind bending over the back of the sofa please? I’m going to need more room to swing my arm with the baton.” She stands up too and helps me shuffle over.

I bend down resting my body all the way until my hands reach the sofa seats. Luckily my feet can still touch the floor. Diana adjusts me so my bare bottom is displayed prominently, at a perfect angle for her, I assume. Then she positions herself behind me, measuring the distance while rubbing my burning cheeks.

“So how many strokes shall we have eh?” Not sure it is actually a question for me, I keep my mouth shut.

“Half a dozen, a dozen, Molly dear?”

“I dunno, ma’am,” I mutter.

I’ve never had to answer this question before. Tess always figures it out herself.

“How about half a dozen to start with and we’ll see how you do?”


“Right then, let’s get started.” Diana whips out her phone. “Let’s play something nice for this special Boxing Day eh. You guys have any favorite Christmas carol?” She can’t contain her merriment and is practically humming already.

I roll my eyes and Tessa quips, “You are really enjoying this huh, Di.”

“Oh YES.” She cues up her playlist and puts her phone down. A soft voice croons slowly: ‘Do You Know What I Know?’

“Celine Dion.” Di purrs and hums along: “A Brat, A Brat Shivers in the Behind.”

Tessa is right. Di is enjoying this too much!

The wooden stick is touching my bottom, moving around. It feels cool and comforting on my hot skin.

“This is going to sting a bit, Molly.” Diana warns me gently. “You ready?”

My body tenses up. Butterflies fluttering in my heart, I clench my cheeks tight and squeeze my eyes shut. “Yes, ma’am.” I say softly.

“Unclench your cheeks, darling,” Diana pats my bottom trying to make me relax.

Tess moves to stand next to me. “Babe, you need to unclench your butt.”

I give a small whimper but oblige.

“Do You Hear What I Hear” Di sings in a gentle croon then WHAP! I hear the sound before the pain sears into my flesh. “Owww.”

“A Thump, A Thump, High Above the Rump.” Di belts out her own lyrics.

Yeah I hear that alright!

Tessa giggles and leans over to take my hand. “You ok babe?” We’ve never tried anything similar to a cane or any kind of sticks before. If my memory is correct, other than her hand, Tess has only used a ruler and hairbrush. Maybe she’s right about having a long way to go. The thought makes me snicker.

The pain lasts about five seconds before it recedes and I recover quickly. “I’m fine. Just didn’t expect that little thing to be so lethal,” I explain with a wry giggle, wiggling my hips to diffuse some sting.

“Remember your safe word, Molly.” Diana rubs the spot the baton hit a minute ago. “Use it anytime you want please.”


Diana adjusts my position a little, I assume to give herself a better aim. She continues to hum along with Celine Dion, “Do You See What I See?”

WHAP! The second whack comes down un-ceremonially on the other cheek and it feels more bearable ‘cause I’m better prepared for its impact now. “Ouch.” I shuffle my feet.

Diana hums along: “A Peach, A Peach, Dancing on the Beach.” She moves her hand around my cheeks and says sympathetically, “Most people, myself included, tend to underestimate this little implement here.”

No kidding, Ma’am.

WHAP! WHAP! Two more strokes landed on my cheeks, one on each. I shuffle my feet more. “Ow ow.” Rubbing my bottom cheeks, I can feel slightly raised lines forming.

“So … you do this for a living, Di?” Tessa asks, her voice betraying a touch of wonderment.

“What? Spanking naughty bottoms?”

“Very funny. No, conducting with that baton. You said you are a conductor.”

“Yes, whipping brats, I mean students into shape.” Di jokes. Sounds like she quite likes her job.

“I know whacha mean.” Tess replies in empathy. “Trust me, I deal with undergrads on a daily basis and sometimes I have to say my palm gets really itchy.”

I put in and tease Tessa. “Really? I thought most of us students do not dare to mess with THE soon-to-be Dr. Tessa Blackwell.”

“I wish!” Tess shakes her head and swats my bottom playfully. “Though I gotta admit most students do behave well for me. No need for the whip!” Sounds like she quite likes her job too.

“Speaking of which,” Di rests the baton across my cheeks. “Would you like to give it a go, Tess?”

“What, the baton?” I can hear excitement rising in her voice.

“Sure, why not, if Molly here has no objection.” Diana says in a sincere tone.

“Knock yourself out,” I smirk, feeling delighted in my heart.

“There.” I hear Tessa positioning herself behind me, her hand tracing the trail left by the previous four strokes. “Nice straight lines, Di.” She raves.

“Thank you.” Di gushes back.

Celine Dion’s silky voice floats in the room and Diana croons along intermittently.

Tess shifts her feet. “Here it comes.” THWACK!

“Ouch,” I yelp, curling my leg upwards.

She puts a hand on the sore spot. “You ok?”


“Now let me ask you Mo.” Tess slips into the top mode, using a mocking stern tone. “Do you agree that it was solely your responsibility to make sure that red bottom of yours is properly covered on the beach, um?”

I play along. “Bu-but you can’t expect a sleeping person to know that the wind had picked up and blown off my towel, can ya?” That particular retort earns me another THWACK with the baton. I yelp again.

“Such a brat. Always has an excuse ready. See Di? What I have to deal with every day!” Tess feigns indignation but I can tell she’s trying hard not to laugh and break her toppy persona.

Diana chuckles. “Yes I see. That’s a typical brat logic. Mind you, I hear these kinds of argument from students all the time. One time a student missed a rehearsal in the morning and he told me later it was because his alarm hadn’t gone off. Turned out that HE had forgotten to set it up the night before!”

I hear Tessa nod in agreement. “Yeah, brats tend to blame anything or anyone other than themselves.” She chuckles and touches my sore bottom. “We studied that in class, didn’t we Molly? What is this behavior called eh?”

Luckily I have excellent memories about these things. “It’s called attribution errors, Tessa ma’am.”

“Very good. Can you explain what it means please?” She is grilling me like I have a test tomorrow!

“It means we, er… brats tend to overestimate situational or external factors to cover, er… to explain their less than desirable behavior.”

Haha I’m good at retaining useless information.

“Very good babe.” Tessa bends down and plants a kiss on my lower back and examines her handiwork. “Wish my lines were straight like yours, Di.”

Di comes over and rubs my bottom. “They look great, Tess. You’re such a natural. Molly darling, that was half a dozen done.” She asks me, “Now tell me, young lady, have you been properly disciplined or would you need more licks?”

Her question sends a tingling shiver that rises up along my spine.

My bottom is sore, but will I pass a slappy golden opportunity like this?! Not in a million years.

Tessa knows me well. “More of course, right Mo?”

I want to feign reluctance but it’s too hard. So I simply squeal my delighted consent.

Tess measures and fusses over my bottom. “Got to line them up parallel to those.”

THWACK! THWACK! Two quick blows hit in succession on one cheek each. I hold my breath until the searing pain subsides. “Phew.”

A thankful pause. More measuring and fussing over my backside by my toppy girlfriend. THUMP! THUMP! Two more swift strikes land on my cheeks. I stamp my feet to disperse the searing pain. Tess rubs my burning orbs.

“Okay, last two. Let me try to make them 90 degrees to the others. What do you think, Di?” Tessa is moving the stick around on my cheeks, gauging her aim.

“Brilliant idea!” Diana encourages enthusiastically. A bit too keen, in my humble opinion!

I prepare myself for the last two smacks. Head down, eyes shut and breath held in.

They come in quick succession, mercifully.


“Wow, beautiful strikes, Tess!” Diana gently touches the spots. She reaches for her phone and aims it at my quivering behind. A quick snap and she shows it to me.

“See how stunning the lines are, Molly.” She enthuses, enlarging the picture for me to see.

Staring at me is a ripe peach and on each side of the crack, there are horizontal raised red lines crossed by a vertical one. Stunning, yes, and picture perfect, if I may say so myself. Grinning ear to ear, I slowly pull myself up.

Best Boxing Day ever!

Tessa’s adrenaline seems to run high, her face flushed. She helps me stand still, draws up my shorts and ruffles my hair lovingly.

“Thank you so much Di.” She buzzes, handing the baton back to Di. “It’s an amazing implement, so light and easy to swing.” She flexes her wrists a few times.

Diana takes the baton, “You’re very welcome.” She then points it at Tessa’s backside. “Speaking of which, have you decided? Here’s your last chance if you’re interested in trying the receiving end.” Her light brown eyes are sparkling, and I can see she’s sincere in her offer.

Four eyes are fixed on my girlfriend’s face.

Tess slowly licks her lower lip, her greenish gray eyes gleaming with a whiff of curiosity and adventure. After a minute, she flings her hair back over her shoulder, both thumbs raised, and declares, “Fine, why not?”

I throw myself into my love’s embrace. “Really? That’s awesome!”

Diana nods, eyes crinkling with approval. “Smart choice, Tess! I’m chuffed. Come on then.”

“Just a couple whacks though, ok? And on my shorts only.” Tess clarifies though her voice shows she’s quite excited.

“Come and bend yourself on this chair then, will you please?” Diana moves the chair closer and points at the seat.

Tessa complies. Her long arms easily reach down to let her hands rest comfortably.

“Very well, thank you. Let’s play this properly, shall we?” Diana teases and swings the baton a few times. “Now Miss Tessa?”


“Uh-uh, try again.” The tip of the baton swiftly touches the back of Tessa’s bare thigh, a reminder and a warning.

“Okayyy I’ll play.” Tess huffs. “Yes, MA’AM?”

My girlfriend is such a quick learner!

“That’s better.” Di ignores Tessa’s dramatic exaggeration. She clears her throat. “Now when you said to Molly a while ago that she was solely responsible on the beach, I beg to disagree.”

I know what’s coming.

“How so?” Tess grunts out a question of her own.

“Because you also contributed to the red bottom on the beach, wouldn’t you say?” Diana still sounds playful but her tone takes on a more serious note than before.

“I … um” Tessa bites her tongue.

“Um is exactly right.” Diana points out. “Now please tell me why you’re also responsible, Miss Tess.”

“Can’t think of why I AM, ma’am.” Tess winks at me. She can be bratty, my Tess. She always claims she learns from the best!

Diana narrows her eyes, moves to Tessa’s side and raises her arm. WHACK! It hits the meatiest part of both cheeks.

“Holy f**k. That hurt!” Tessa’s hand flies back to rub her bottom.

“I know right?” I chime in sympathetically. “And you have shorts on too!”

Diana plays the top persona perfectly. She orders in a mock stern tone. “Now try again, Miss Tessa.”

“Geez, alright. Because I’m the one who spanked Molly, with a good reason I might add, and then let her go to the beach with only a dodgy towel to cover her red bottom. Happy now?”

“Correct answer,” Diana confirms delightedly. “But wrong attitude! And that calls for another jolly good whack.” She moves to the other side of Tess and swings her arm upwards. The baton then comes down in a straight line covering the same spot as the first one. WHACK!

Tessa whips around, rubbing her bottom vigorously. “God, that baton IS lethal. You were right Mo.” She pulls herself upright. “All right I’m done.”

“Not so fast, missy!” Diana gestures for her to stay put. “That swearing has earned you another lick.” Di’s voice is playful but firm. “You wouldn’t allow Molly to swear during a spanking, would you now?” She winks at me and the freckles on her nose dance merrily.

“No, she wouldn’t,” I try my best to be helpful, grinning to myself.

“Haha, very funny, both of you.” Tess glares at me and Di, but complies and returns to the proper position.

Di carefully aims and delivers the last WHACK!


Tess rises to stand straight, rubbing her bottom. The seats of her shorts are creased from being massaged so vigorously. She gives Diana a big hug. “Thanks, Di. That was a first for me, very memorable.”

“My pleasure darling. I’m glad you decided to try. It wasn’t too bad, was it?” Di’s mouth turns upwards into a big grin.

“Are you kidding me?” Tessa snorts and continues to rub her bottom. She addresses me teasingly, with a big smirk on her face, “Looks like we are NOT gonna switch anytime soon, sorry Mo.”

“Fine by me.” I glare at my toppy girlfriend with a big silly smirk of my own.


Soft Xmas music is still playing. Tessa sits down on the couch. I’m sprawled next to her in prone position with my chin resting on her thigh and my feet curled upwards dangling. Diana is sitting in the loveseat across from us. She reaches into her clutch bag and magically retrieves three small little flasks.

“Now for the post spanking tipple.” Di hands two over to me and Tess.

We inspect the little bottles. They are the kind that airlines serve on international flights.

“Haha, naughty of me, I know.” Di explains, her golden brown eyes glinting with a flicker of mischief. “I asked for extras on the plane.”

I open the teeny flask and take a small swig, the tart liquid waltzing down my throat, refreshing.

“Don’t have Tim Tam with me, sorry girls. BUT here,” she produces a packet of Jaffa Cakes.

“Oh I love those!” I whoop. The quintessential British cookies are featured by a round soft cookie covered by a layer of orange jelly on one side, that is further layered by a thin coat of chocolate. One of my favorites.

The music has picked up volume. A male voice is belting out: “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town.”

“Ah …” Diana sips from the little flask and relaxes her body. “This is one of the best Boxing Days I’ve ever had!” She leans into the back of the loveseat and puts her feet up on the ottoman. “Thank you heaps for letting me play, ladies. Sara and I haven’t had much chance to play since Mags was born.” Her soft face is animated, brimming with genuine feelings.

“You are very welcome, Di. We had so much fun too, didn’t we, Molly?” Tess reaches for my backside and pats gently.

I nod vigorously.

Tessa clears her throat and her signature intense gaze falls on Diana. “Um so … Di, you said you lifted those drinks from the aircraft?”

“What? How do you mean?” Di asks, a small furrow around her eyes.

Tessa narrows her gaze. “Well, you said yourself that those drinks were taken from the plane.” Her tone is even but her gaze is unyielding.

I realize what Tessa is doing before Di does. I wink approvingly at my toppy girlfriend and she returns with one of her own.

“Yep, so?” Comprehension descents on Di’s expressive face. Her pale brown eyes roam Tessa’s face slowly and expectantly.

“Gee, Di. I dunno. Maybe it’s a spankable offense, would you say?” Tessa says playfully.

Diana’s eyes turn into two sparkling moons.

I perk up and put in helpfully in a squeak. “Oh yeah, absolutely ‘cause it’s like shoplifting, right?” My excitement is palpable.

Diana’s face breaks into a wide grin, showing a few creases in the corners of her eyes. “What do you have in mind, Tess?” She pulls herself away from the back of the loveseat and plants her feet on the floor, returning Tessa’s gaze with curiosity and expectation.

Grinning from ear to ear, Tess replies, “Well, I thought I’d return the favor. Where’s that baton?”

Di gives it over to Tess with a quivering hand.

“Thank you,” Tess places it next to her on the couch.

“I say we start with a nice warm-up and then move on to the baton, what do you think, Miss Diana?” Tess slips into her authoritative tone.

“Your call, ma’am,” Di replies meekly in a low voice, her eyes looking down.

Wow, the woman can act all right!

Tess nudges me and helps me get off the couch. “Would you please swap places with Di? Thank you.”

I’m now perched on the loveseat watching the two adorable tops play.

“Tell me why you are over my knee getting a bare bottomed spanking, Miss Di.” Tess orders.

The prone woman wiggles her upended plumpish derrière. “Um, for the tipple, ma’am?”

Tess tries hard not to laugh. “Yes, what about the tipple? Please be more specific.”

“Em, for illegally obtaining it from the airline?” Di teases.

“Exactly! It was akin to shoplifting really.” Tessa raises her hand and lands a sound whop on Di’s behind.

“Ow, that hurt!” Di rubs her bottom. “What, you’ve got hands of steel?”

SLAP! A second sharp spank is expertly delivered.

I cringe and Di yelps.

Tess flexes her hand. “Yes, you’re lucky Di. I play volleyball and my hands, let’s just say your bottom is in for a sound … treat … correction I mean.” She turns to me, “Isn’t that right, Mo?”

I love it when my girlfriend flaunts her tough hands.

Diana shivers. “Yes, ma’am, I was very naughty stealing alcohol from the plane. I deserve a proper correction.”

“Okey dokey, here we go then.” Tess shifts her legs, slightly raising the bare bottom on her knee and starts raining down sharp smacks earnestly.

“Santa Clause Is Coming to Town.”

Tessa’s slaps and Diana’s squeals are in perfect sync with the music.

My eye lids start to feel heavy. The mixed sounds, cool liquor, rich and sweet starch, and delightful aching of my spanked bottom, they all threaten to lull me to sleep. The last thing I remember dancing in front of me is Tessa swinging her arm and her hand landing on Diana’s jiggling bottom, both women giggling hard.


In my blissful slumber I hear Diana bend over and kiss me goodbye on the forehead. She quietly lays down something on my chest, “Keep it Mo, my Boxing Day pressie to you both.” Her voice floats away.

I yawn and rub my eyes half open, catching a sliver of the rosewood handle winking up at me.




This story is part of the Annual Christmas Exchange on Alyx’s blog here


Posted in Stories: Molly & Tessa, Stories: Yearly Holiday Exchange | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 24 Comments

Happy Lunar New Year!



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Rosy-Cheeked Christmas

Woohoo, my first Christmas away from home, alone with Tessa, in sunny Cancún to boot. A spectacular holiday break from the frozen Midwest.

“You’ve been grinning ever since we got here, Mo.” Tessa observes, eyeing me with an amused expression.

“I know!” I hug her and kiss her. “Thank you for bringing me to this awesome place, Tess!” I gush. The hotel room is spacious, not to mention a mini Christmas tree by the window and a pot of bright red poinsettia on the coffee table.

Christmas morning, I wake up at 7 o’clock sharp. All is quiet but the excitement is winding its way over my body making it impossible to get back to sleep.

I turn to look at my sleeping beauty of a girlfriend. She looks so angelic and peaceful, her breathing rhythmic and content.

Against my better judgement, I poke her and whisper in her ear, “You awake honey?”

“Huh?” Her eyes barely open, “No. What time is it, baby?”

“Umm … time to wake up and open pressies!” I kiss her softly on the nose.

“Another hour, sweetie.” Tessa turns to her side and falls back to sleep.

Ah, the empty champagne bottle on the night table reminds me that we did stay up late last night, playing with each other’s body. But still.

“Another hour?” I get into a pouting mood. “What am I supposed to do?”

Tessa is snoring ever so slightly.

I sigh and grab my phone and start texting Merry Christmas to my family and friends, just to kill time. Then I go to Youtube to watch my favorite Root and Shaw love scenes for the 20th time. I watch the re-runs just to see these two hot sexy women.

An hour passes. Time to get Tessa up.

“Tess,” I straddle her legs, shaking her a bit. “Time to wake up.”

She stirs but her eyes are still closed.

“C’mon Tess.” I beg.

She’s motionless.

Clearly she needs help waking up.

I look around the room and my eyes catch the little bucket sitting on top of the fridge. I smirk.

Crawling off of her, I grab the bucket, and quietly slip out of the room.

The ice machine is at the end of the long corridor. The place is deserted at this time and I can hear my flip-flop on the floor.

I come back to the room with the bucket full. Picking up one single cube of ice, I gingerly toss it into Tessa’s PJ top before tiptoeing into the bathroom and locking the door.

Let the show begin!

Less than two seconds later, a screech pierces the room and I’m afraid it’s gonna shatter the glass windows.

I, of course, am doubled over on the bathroom floor, holding my breath.

A firm knock on the door. “Molly, open this door RIGHT NOW.”

“Aw sweetie,” I manage to stop laughing and catch my breath. “Merry Xmas to ya too.”

A groan. “Merry Xmas, honey.” A sigh and a pause. “And now I’m gonna count to three, … ONE-”

I’m pretty sure she’s rolling her eyes too.

I slowly unlock the door. Tessa looks wide awake with pursed lips, no trace of sleepiness on her face. Great, the ice did the trick! I act completely innocent and delightedly fling myself into her arms.

“Pressie time?” I ask with the cutest puppy face I can muster.

She hugs me and then peels me away to an arm’s length. Looking at me with an incredulous expression, Tessa snorts, “Uh-huh,” shaking her head.

Instead, she grasps my hand and walks over to the bed. She sits down and pulls me easily over her knee. I pretend to protest by wiggling my hip and kicking my feet. “Hey, whatcha doing, Tess?”

“You asked for it.” She says in a mock exasperated tone and flexes her hand.

“Aw, isn’t it too early for a spanking?” I tease her. “You haven’t had your coffee yet.”

“It’s true I need my coffee.” Tessa concedes. “But I better take care of your naughty bottom before it gets itself into more trouble!” She says emphatically while pulling up my over-sized t shirt, revealing a bare bottom.

Don’t remember what happened to my underwear last night.

“But it’s Christmas! You can’t possibly spank me on Christmas!” I kick my feet some more.


“Settle down,” Tessa gives a sharp spank to my cheeks, “Stop kicking.” She rubs my bottom in a circular motion. “This is exactly what we need on Christmas morning! Painting a pale bottom red,” SPANK! “to match the poinsettia over there!” She smirks.

“Ouch, that hurts.” I whine and wiggle my butt.

“Good. That’s the point.” SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT!

I can feel my cheeks bounce at each formidable smack. The sting starts to build. I try to wiggle myself off her knee.

“Don’t even think about it, Mo.” Tessa warns sternly, holding me fast. “Besides, you asked for it.” She leans down and purrs in my ear.

“Bu-but how else was I going to help you wake up?” Despite my precarious position, my cheekiness gets the best of me.

Tessa bursts out laughing. “You are such a naughty brat, Mo.” SMACK!

What can I say? Maybe I’m a natural, born that way. Haha.

A volley of stinging swats land on my tender buttocks. “This is what you wanted, Mo, isn’t it?”

“Um … no.” I smirk. “You are lucky I didn’t dump the whole bucket … Ouchy.”

Two particularly sharp smacks hit my sit spots, one on each. I arch my back, howling.

“If you did that, my dear brat,” Tess asks, “do you know what would happen?”


“There wouldn’t be a bottom left on you after I was done!” SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! I holler some more.

That’s an image I don’t really fancy to see, but I love it when my girlfriend acts this way, stern and toppy.

“Ok, ok. I’m sorry, Tess.” My butt is smarting a tad more than I can handle now.

“How sorry?”

“Very.” I move my hand to rub my sore bottom. She stops me.

“You promise to behave from now on?” Her question is followed by repeated palm blows on my sore backside. “Never, ever do that again, you hear me, Molly?”

“Ow. Yes, I’ll be good, I promise.” I start to sniffle.

She delivers another dozen or so hard swats before slowing down to small pats. She fondles my cheeks, clearly pleased with her handiwork. “Nice color,” she chuckles.

She pulls me up and says, “Go stand next to the poinsettia, bottom up. Let me take a picture.” She whips out her cell phone.

I comply obediently.

“Here, Mo.” She shows me the picture of my red bum next to the red flower. “What do ya think? Close enough?”

Before I can give my opinion, she announces, “I think we need to make your bottom a bit more red.”

“Noooo.” I’m groaning and whining as she pulls me over her knee again and gifts my smarting bottom another round of hard smacks, spreading them evenly on both cheeks.

“Now there.” She stops. “A perfect match, I think.” She takes another picture.

“Gee thanks, Tess.” I rub my butt vigorously. “Can we open pressies now?”

She pauses. “Well, you’ve already received your first pressie,” she massages my tender cheeks emphatically. Then she stands me up and tells me we’ll go to the beach first and then come back to open presents.

Ostensibly not to reward bratty behavior, I guess.

I want to argue but seeing her determined expression, I keep my mouth shut and nod my compliance. My toppy girlfriend smiles approvingly.

I walk over to the ice bucket and scoop out two cubes, one in each hand. They feel so good on my stinging cheeks. Tessa chuckles and kisses me on the nose.

After a quick cup of coffee, we change into our bikinis, wrap some towels around and pad to the beach.

It’s a crisp clear morning but the sun is already half way up. The ocean breeze is gentle and soothing, and the water is as blue as the sky so when you look out into the horizon, you almost can’t tell them apart. I pick up a handful of sand and it feels so soft and silky like it could melt in my hand at any time.

Looking around I see a few tourists here and there, but the crowd is clearly not out yet.

I lie face down on the soft towel and make sure to put another towel on my back covering the middle section all the way down to my thigh. Tessa snuggles into a beach chair with “The Woman in Cabin 10” by Ruth Ware. My lovely girlfriend is such a fan of the British author that I in fact got her Ware’s new book “The Lying Game” waiting under the tree.

The quiet and gentle ocean waves make me drowsy and I close my eyes.

“Excuse me.” A high pitched voice brings me back from the throes of a deep snooze. Rubbing eyes, I reluctantly lift my head. Wow, the sun is fully risen and the wind has picked up a lot. It blows a damp, sweet and salty ocean scent into my face and neck. There are a lot more people now on the beach, families sprawling out everywhere.

Tracing the voice, I turn to see a little girl tugging on Tessa’s arm. Her golden ponytail sways gently in the bright sun.

“Yes sweetie?” Tessa lays down her book.

“What’s your name?” The girl looks about 5 or 6, and has a cute freckled face.

“I’m Tessa. What’s yours?”

“Maggie. You can call me Mags.” She has an accent I can’t quite place. British? Australian?

“Hi Mags.” Tessa offers her hand, all smiles. “Nice to meet you, Mags, and Merry Christmas.”

“Same here, Tessa.” Mags points at me. “Is that your sister?”

“No, that’s my girlfriend, Molly.” Tessa waves at me and I wave back, squinting.

“Was she naughty?” Mags demands to know, her button nose wrinkling.

“Huh? Naughty? Um…” Tessa suddenly starts to stutter. “Wh-why did you ask?”

“Cos she’s got a red bottie! Did she get spanked?” Her tone shows she’s very intrigued.


I whip my head around discovering my blazing red bottom glowing gloriously in the shining sunlight, half of the towel blown off my body by the wind obviously. Oh God! How many people have seen my rosy bum on display?! Now red-faced as well, I hastily pull the towel over my bottom before turning back to see my toppy girlfriend caught off guard, her face almost as red as mine. I cross my arms in front of my face and rest my head down on them.

Good luck Tess, I snicker.

“Um… yes, but, well, see Mags, …” Tessa is trying really hard to answer the curious little girl’s question. “Sometimes … um-”

“Darling,” a woman’s voice rushes over. “Are you bothering this young lady?”

“Mummy,” Mags sounds excited. “Molly got spanked. I saw her red bottie!” I have no doubt she’s pointing right at me and so I stay face down, motionless. After a few seconds when I’m sure they are not looking at me anymore, I open one eye and watch through the gap between my arms. The woman looks like in her mid to late thirties with a pleasant open face, freckles dotting her nose. She seems surprised by her daughter’s explanation and turns to Tessa with an inquiring look.

“Um I’m very sorry,” she apologizes. “But Mags here does have a very imaginative mind sometimes.”

“Well,” Tessa stutters again. “Mags didn’t … well, she didn’t exactly imagine …”

I’m enjoying this moment tremendously.

The woman’s eyebrows rise, making her eyes look like from those anime characters. She looks in my direction again and back to Tessa, and slowly her face takes on a fascinated mirth and her lips curve up into a knowing grin.

Turning her face away from her daughter, the woman ventures in a whisper, looking Tessa in the eye. “Spanko?”

I pipe up. This is unbelievable!

Tessa locks her eyes with the woman and nods shyly. Mags looks curiously at her mom and then Tessa. She probably realizes that something has transpired between them and an understanding of sort has been reached.

“Me too,” the woman tilts her head, her face growing animated.

I slowly pull myself up, making sure the towel is securely tied around my middle section.

“Hi, I’m Molly. Nice to meet you.” I extend my hand to the woman and then to Mags.

“Oh hi. I’m Di, Diana. Nice to meet you and Happy Christmas.”

Yeah, the British say happy Xmas instead of merry Xmas.

Before Mags can open her mouth and ask me any questions that are tricky to answer, Diana takes her daughter’s hand and makes to leave. She turns back and waves at us, her face flushed: “Hope to see you ladies around. We’re in Room 388. What’s yours?”

I look at Tessa and she nods. “We are in 918. Come visit if you wanna.” I wink at Diana with an inviting smile.

“Ya bet!” She blows us an excited kiss before disappearing into the crowds.

I cuddle up to Tessa and burrow myself into her neck. She wraps her arm around my waist and gently pinches my bottom.

Pretty sure this is not the end of our encounter with Diana.


Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

This story is part of Alyx’s Christmas Gift Exchange here. There are more stories there!

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F/F Spanking Anthology is here!

News Flash: the baby is out! 🙂

A total of 14 f/f spanking stories in one book! Full of sizzling romance and stingyly hot spanks including my little story “Hotel Sakura” featuring Neela. Weekend can’t come sooner so I can curl up and enjoy reading all the stories in the book!

More good news: the ebook only costs a paltry $2.99 and even better, all the proceeds will be given to charity. Trust me, if you’re into f/f spanking, you would want to get a copy! Please hop over to Amazon and purchase it today: Fourteen F/F Spanking Stories. 

Thank you always for your support and feel free to comment.


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New F/F Spanking eBook!

Hello dear readers:

Alyx Rancher, the veteran writer of ff spanking genre and our beloved mayor of Global Village, has published a new book Super Top. It features a formidable ENGLISH professional Top who goes around helping other tops deal with their brats! *bg* Sounds wonderful and delicious to any spankos right? IT IS. There are THREE stories in the series. You can get it here on Amazon:



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