For a very special la chica.
Happy birthday “Rosie!”
The ballroom of the Carmines Hotel downtown is bubbling with Sapphic energy tonight. The fairer sex of all ages, colors, and shapes, from all walks of life, are wandering about the place, excitedly anticipating another spectacular Annual Sapphic Spanking Party.
A woman with neatly coiffed bobbed chestnut hair saunters in, expectantly looking around for familiar faces. She looks lithe in her cropped denim jacket and tight jeans.
“Rosie!” A diminutive woman spots her.
“Hey Lily!” Rosie is glad to see her spanko buddy.
“Happy birthday, Rosie.” Lily gives Rosie a big hug, “Did you have a good day?”
The birthday girl’s all smiles. “They had a homemade chocolate cake for me in the office, nice huh.”
“I like your new hair style.” Lily exclaims, admiring Rosie’s short tresses.
“Oh, thanks.” Rosie’s face glows with giddiness under the crystal chandeliers.
Looking around, the two friends notice that the entire ballroom has been partitioned into different smaller cubicles with elegant oriental wall screens. Red colored signs on the door indicate its availability by a picture of a smiling woman holding a paddle that says ‘Welcome.’ On the flip side, a picture of a woman sitting on a chair spanking a bottom over her knee indicates occupancy.
Rosie and Lily can’t help but giggling as they take a peek inside a room and see a comfortable sofa by the wall as well as a straight backed chair in the middle. They exchange a knowing look, having both attended previous parties. Outside these spanking rooms, small open areas are available for people to congregate and mingle around.
People are wearing different color coded bracelets and name-tags. Blue for tops; red for bottoms; and purple for switches. Rosie quickly picks up a purple and Lily wears a red. Then they both pin the tags on their shirts with ‘Rosie’ and ‘Lily’ in big prints.
“C’mon, let’s get started,” Rosie says excitedly, bobbing up and down like a 6 year old. She’s more than ready for the fun to begin. Being a switch, her palm feels itchy as she can’t wait to have some lovely woman draped over her knee. But today is her birthday and her bottom feels very itchy too. Imagine that!
“Hold on a sec,” Lily grabs Rosie’s arm. “Let me ask you a quick question about the City University.” Lily owns a landscaping business and is considering doing an online MBA. “So how’s your class going? You like it?”
“So far so good. I’m really liking it. The class is really informative.” Rosie says enthusiastically, referring to the Critical Strategies in Management class that she’s taking for her job as a project manager in a large company.
There’s a pause, “Well, except oh my gawd, there’s a ton of work, way too much. This instructor is killing me!” Rosie accompanies her exclamation with dramatic hand gestures. “Oh, get this, this prof. has a weird last name, P-O-N-S-O-N-B-Y. I mean what kind of name is that?”
“Huh, Ponsonby? It does sound pretentious.” Lily nods and chuckles.
“Plus, I don’t even know if it’s a man or a woman, just Dr. P. O. Ponsonby,” Rosie snickers, “P-O-P! Prof. POP. Hahhahaha.” She starts laughing out loud.
Unbeknownst to them, about six feet away stands an attractive, broad shouldered woman with a glass of red wine in hand. She is of medium height, athletic and muscular, shoulder length black hair, wears a crisply pressed white shirt with a suede vest tightly over it, and black slacks with flare legs. Her feet sport a pair of brown Dansko Desiree shoes, fashionable yet comfortable and sturdy. The woman’s intense gaze has never left the two chatting women ever since they came in.
On her wrist dangles a blue bracelet, and her name tag reads: Flo.
Flo sips her red wine slowly while focusing her attention on the two laughing women in the distance. The room is too noisy for her to hear them, but she concentrates on their faces. With an expression of amused annoyance, the straight backed sturdy woman raises an eye brow in a slow motion as Rosie and Lily are roaring with laughter.
Once they’ve managed to stop laughing, Rosie continues, “But I’ve figured out a way to cut down the workload.”
Rosie looks around sheepishly to make sure no one can hear them. “Well, we are supposed to post in the discussion board, right? You have to post your own comments first which I actually quite enjoy doing, but then you have to respond to other people’s posts. It can be a mega pain in the ass because ya know, some of them are just stupid, and others, all they do is trying to show off for the professor. It’s so irritating!” Rosie is getting indignant.
“So what did you figure out?”
Rosie whispers, “I just copy different parts of my original post and paste them into my different responses. Takes about, uh… five minutes top.” She winks at Lily triumphantly, so proud of her cleverness.
“You are such a genius,” Lily claps her hands. “You have to teach me all these tricks once I start next semester.”
“Of course Lily, my pleasure,” Rosie promises as only a brat can, tilting her head proudly: “I’ve got a whole bunch more tricks up my sleeve.”
As the pair is about to leave to join the activities, Flo the Top is strolling steadily towards them. She flashes a seductive smile at the two petite women, extending her hand, “I’m Flo. Nice to meet you girls.”
Flo is a good 5 inches taller than them. Rosie and Lily look up in unison to greet the Top, awestruck.
“Hiii, Miss Flo,” gushes Rosie, eyelids fluttering.
“Heyyy there,” glows Lily, grinning from ear to ear.
The two women shake hands with the Top. It’s a very firm handshake, Rosie notices. They feel flattered this elegant Top has noticed them but they are also a little intimidated by her steady demeanor and her broad form.
“Well, well,” Flo teases, “Rosie and Lily, been naughty lately?” Her voice is surprisingly soft and carries a musical tone.
“Um, no Ma’am. We’ve been very good,” Rosie pouts, slipping into a bottom’s mindset immediately.
Flo winks, “Hope you girls come see me while you make your rounds, yes?” She looks at Rosie meaningfully, accompanied by a charming smile.
Nodding vigorously, the girls promise they’ll visit Flo’s room.
The two women split at the first availability sign. Lily goes in the room and is warmly welcomed by a blond woman.
“See ya later Lily,” Rosie winks and with a little swagger, takes off looking for Flo.
Around a corner she peeks in a room and is happy to see Flo sitting on a sofa, fiddling with her phone. The top smiles when she sees Rosie as if she’s been waiting just for her.
Beckoning her to come in, Flo rises and gestures towards the sofa. She closes the door and flicks on the ‘Spanking in Session’ picture. Sitting down in the middle of the sofa, Flo points at Rosie’s jeans, “Down please.”
Wow, no chit chat. This one means business, Rosie thinks to herself, quickly unzipping and pulling her jeans down.
Flo smiles and pats her knee, “You see, I prefer exchanging pleasantries with my bottom over my knee.”
Rosie giggles, jeans bunched around her mid thighs, she lowers herself over Flo’s knees. It’s quite a familiar position for her. But Rosie is extra excited because she can tell that Flo is an experienced spanker and knows what she’s doing.
‘Just my good luck,’ Rosie congratulates herself, ‘to meet Flo on my birthday.’
Tummy fluttering, Rosie stares at the flower patterned carpet and wiggles to position herself as comfortable as possible. The thighs underneath her feel extremely strong.
“You know Miss Flo, today’s my birthday,” in a sweet voice she informs the Top, balancing her feet on the floor.
“Oh is it now? Many happy returns of the day Rosie,” Flo purrs.
“Thanks,” the birthday girl coos.
“Well, well,” Flo observes the fleshy bottom presented on her lap, “we shall make sure your bottie gets extra attention then.” The Top gently eases down Rosie’s boyish boxer shorts to join her jeans.
Flo admires the view of the pale soft mound of a female derriere, rather pleased. The soft skin, the perfect angle, and the cheeks are slightly jiggling, sending a warm invitation to the Top.
Flo slowly raises her right arm. Her flat palm strikes down on the fattest parts of Rosie’s round peachy bottom, repeatedly. The cheeks wobble at the impact.
Rosie squeals, squirms and whimpers.
Flo appears to be in no hurry. Her swats are delivered leisurely. Slap, pause, slap pause. The room grows quiet as the POP POP sound becomes rhythmic and almost musical. Flo spreads the smacks evenly over Rosie’s pinkening backside, from the top of the thigh to the crown, making sure the color shows on all the surface area.
It is such a pleasurable session for Rosie. Flo not only chit chats to her but also occasionally touches her short hair with a brush of her soft finger amid the steady slaps lazily delivered.
“Been a good girl, Rosie?”
This woman has a very seductive husky voice with a crispy accent that Rosie can’t quite place. The British Isles? Australia perhaps? Or South Africa?
“Yes, I’ve been an angel, Ma’am.” Rosie wiggles her hips, squeaking like a little girl.
Flo increases the pace and the smacks are a little harder too. Rosie feels the heat slowly building into a small fire on her rear, warm and comforting. She squirms and writhes, totally immersed in the enjoyment of this fantastic birthday treat.
“This is the best birthday spanking I’ve ever had!” Rosie swoons. She can’t believe her luck.
“Oh really? I’m very glad.” Flo purrs in a silky voice, brushing the back of Rosie’s head with her fingers.
After a few more minutes of the brisk hand spanking, Flo pauses. Watching a content birthday girl draped over her knee, thoroughly enjoying the moment, she tries not to chuckle before asking, “You like the POP POP sound, Rosie?”
“Huh?” Rosie is momentarily confused by the question, then she chuckles, “Oh, the slapping sound. Hahaha. I LOVE the POP POP sound! It’s enchanting!” she exclaims in her usual exuberance.
“Brilliant! I have a special treatment for you, my birthday girl.” So saying the Top reaches into her handbag, retrieving an old hairbrush. She holds the dark mahogany up and marvels at the sturdiness of the antique grooming tool.
“My beautiful Mason Pearson. It belonged to my dear late granny in the old country.” Flo firmly grips the handle and shows it to Rosie, “See this beauty, my darling? Granny used to take this to my little … er, never mind.” Flo blushes slightly and gently caresses the shining surface, “See the polish? I’ve sanded it down and re-polished it a few times.” She affectionately runs her fingers up and down.
Rosie’s heart skips a beat. Boy, that’s a thing of beauty indeed. However, fully aware of its pain inflicting function, she slightly flinches imagining what Flo has in mind.
Flo notices Rosie’s reaction. She grins and starts tapping the hairbrush on Rosie’s tenderized cheeks. Then she flips it to the other side and moves it in circles. “See how soft it is?” The soft fleece soothingly massages the spanked bottom.
“Genuine alpaca from Peru. The best kind. I had it put in last year in Lima by a very fine craftsman.”
Flo skillfully taps the brush on the pink bottom, alternating the wooden and the bristle side, slowly and gently. Rosie exhales with a sigh of relief and starts to relax. She quite likes the ever increasing slight stings from the wood and then having the sore bottom caressed by the soft feather.
In the middle of this intoxicating dance, Flo announces in her sexy husky voice, “Well Rosie, this beauty is now going to produce louder POP POP sound and perhaps even more enchanting ows too.”
Whack! A brisk thud lands on her right cheek, shocking Rosie into bouncing her upper body and pushing her palms into the floor for balance.
“Ow, that hurt!” she blurts out.
Whack, another swift one, on her left cheek.
“Ouch!” Rosie’s hand flies back to protect her backside.
Flo stops and eases up Rosie’s underwear. Then she lifts the petite woman to stand in front of her, her emerald gaze met Rosie’s dark brown irises.
Rising from the sofa, Flo extends her hand, “We shall properly meet before continuing, Ms. Rosie. I am Penelope Olive Ponsonby, or Prof. POP as you and your friend so elegantly called me back there.”
“Wha? Who?” Rosie blinks as she shakes the taller woman’s hand. “Penelope Olive Ponsonby?” She repeats slowly as her brain registers the meaning of it all, “Dr. P-O-P from the City University?”
“Guilty as charged. So glad to meet you too, Rosie Young.” Penelope sits down on the straight backed chair in the middle of the room.
“Bu–but your name is Flo!” Rosie’s heart starts to sink. “An-and how did you know m-my last name?”
“Oh, that’s my kitty. She’s such a darling.” Penelope smiles affectionately, her fingers slightly touching her name tag. Then she tilts her chin towards the phone and winks, “Well, I was on our course site. There’s only one Rosie in the roster.”
Blushing, the birthday girl lowers her head wishing the floor would open up so she could jump right in.
Penelope pats her knee, “Now back you go Rosie. No, no need to pull up your jeans. We are not done yet, oh no, not by a long shot!”
Once again Rosie is staring at the carpet, but this time with a beet red face. And because she’s short and the chair is fairly high, Rosie realizes neither her feet nor her hands can touch the floor. Dang, as a matter of fact her limbs are dangling hopelessly three inches from the floor, making her feel like a little kid.
Rosie tries to make her brain work. Wait, what did Flo just say? That I called her POP? But she couldn’t possibly have heard me, Rosie reassures herself. It was pretty noisy, besides she was whispering to Lily.
“Um, Dr. P, ho-how did you know I called you POP?” Rosie asks in a tentative voice, turning her head back to see Penelope’s face, heart pounding.
“Simple. I read lips.” Dr. Ponsonby states casually, winking.
Rosie puts a hand over her mouth. A sense of foreboding slowly washes over the upturned woman.
“Wow, lip reading huh? Impressive.” She blabbers, trying to sound nonchalant and hiding her panic.
“Yes, it’s quite handy at times,” the Top smirks, gently peeling Rosie’s underwear down just above the knees. She rubs Rosie’s pinkish bottom, “especially when naughty brats make fun of their professors’ names and things.” She chuckles, “Mm, you know Rosie, today being your birthday and all, I shall make extra sure your cheeks match your name perfectly.”
Rosie’s face cheeks turn even redder. “Sorrrry, Ma’am. That was rude of me, but I didn’t think anybody would hear,” Rosie pauses, “or ya know, read.”
Whack, Whack, the antique hairbrush lands efficiently on each cheek in a quick succession, not extremely hard though. Still, the impact makes Rosie kick her dangling feet repeatedly.
“Yes well, one just has to be careful of what one says in public, isn’t that right?” Penelope’s voice becomes a little stern.
“Yes Ma’am. Bu-but, P-O-P is your initials. I-I only stated a-a fact.”
“Ow indeed, young lady. Okay, I concede Ponsonby does sound a bit pretentious.” The Top breaks into a broad grin and flips the brush over gently making circles on the bare buttocks, “It is an old aristocratic Anglo-Irish name by the way. One of my ancestors followed Cromwell all the way to Ireland back in the 17th Century during the Wars of the Three Kingdoms. And boy, did I get teased in school for my family name.”
“Sorry about making fun of your name, Ma’am,” Rosie says meekly.
“Actually Rosie,” a flip of the brush followed by a firm smack, “it’s not a bad idea that from now on if you associate POP sound with me.” POP, a smack. “I think that’ll give you plenty of motivation to behave, huh?” POP, another one.
Despite her current precarious position, Rosie giggles. “Ow, yes, Dr. POP.”
“Now young lady,” the Top’s voice takes on a steely tone, “You will be very sorry and sore after we deal with, um… by your own admission, your inexcusably naughty behavior in the discussion board.”
Rosie’s head explodes at Penelope’s words. She sighs deeply, resigned to the fact that Dr. P most likely heard everything, read everything that is.
“Dr. POP, I mean Ma’am, sorry about my, um… shortcut. I’ll stop doing that. I promise.” Rosie grovels.
“Yes, you WILL, my dear.” The Top swings her strong arm and the hairbrush is applied to the rosy bottom, more vigorously this time.
POP POP of the cracking mahogany against the tender flesh rings out in the cozy room, crispy and rhythmic. Within a minute or two, Rosie’s pink bottom is set ablaze.
“Owwiiii” Rosie hollers. The blows start to sting for real though Rosie realizes that Penelope is only using mild to medium force. Against her will, a tear slowly slips out of her eye and trickles down her face, followed by another and another. Instinctively she tries to wiggle her bottom out of harm’s way but Penelope is far stronger and holds her in place with little effort.
“Now listen carefully.” The formidable Top pauses and gives the naughty bottom a much needed reprieve. The soft alpaca gently touches the burning flesh as Penelope instructs, “About the discussions, you will go back and redo all your previous responses. 300 words per response. Is that understood?” A quick smack follows.
“Ouch, yes, Ma’am,” Rosie’s answer comes quickly. “Bu-but,” she hesitates, “it says 150 words per response in the syllabus.”
“I’m aware of that,” Penelope replies, followed by another thwack. She is a little amused that the naughty woman is still trying to attempt an argument. “It’s being doubled as part of your punishment. May I ask if you have a problem with that, Rosie?” She asks calmly.
The heavy wood rests on the sore bottom, as a warning.
“No, no problem, not at all, Ma’am.” The reply comes forth instantly.
Funny, the top muses, how swiftly a naughty and argumentative brat can transform into a compliant angel once she is laid across a firm knee, her bare bottom in close contact with a piece of wood.
“Bu-but …” Rosie starts and then her voice trails off.
“But what, Rosie?” Penelope flips the hairbrush over and moves the feather bristles very slightly in a circular motion on Rosie’s burning cheeks. The tickling sensation feels so good that Rosie almost forgets what she was trying to say.
“Um…, oh, it-it’s kinda irritating when some of them just want to show off in the discussion board,” Rosie snorts.
Penelope stops her movement, “Oh, you think so? You think other students are showing off for me?”
“Uh-huh, I know so.” Rosie wrinkles her nose, putting on a pouting face.
“Ah,” the professor pauses and the hairbrush is lifted off of Rosie’s bottom.
“See Rosie,” Penelope’s voice is soft, “I quite enjoy it when students try to show me what they know. It’s rather endearing actually.” A big grin appears on her face.
Rolling her eyes, Rosie growls in her throat but bites her tongue.
“Would you like to come see me every fortnight through the rest of this semester, starting next week? I think we have plenty to discuss, including your attitudes toward other students, don’t you agree?”
A thrill shoots down her spine and the birthday girl quickly acquiesces with a demure “Yes, Ma’am, I’d like that very much.”
“Now about the discussion board …” Penelope’s palm rests on Rosie’s warm bottom cheeks.
“No problem, Dr. P. I’ll try-try to respond politely, okay?” Rosie’s bottom enjoys the cool feel of the hand.
“Good girl. Do try to be professional in your responses Ms. Young.” Penelope slightly raises her voice, “You know I’ll be reading every single word of what you post, you understand? I hope you take it seriously.”
Penelope’s sturdy hand moves up and down on each cheek in a soothing rub, a quick squeeze here and there.
“Yes Ma’am?” Rosie is relieved that the wooden implement is gone. Swinging her legs and moaning, she quite appreciates the leisurely rubbing.
Penelope clears her throat, “You know I’m not just an expert on management strategies, right?”
The question is followed by a slap of the palm on the buttocks. “I know plenty strategies on how to deal with misbehaving brats as well. Who knows, I might be tempted to start a POPfest on your bare bottom right there in my office.”
Another slap lands on the roasting rump, “What do you say, Rosie?”
Rosie shivers with glee, “Hehe, POPfest. You are a funny prof, Dr. Ponsonby.” Rosie coos amid uncontrollable giggles. “Um…, I’m sure you’re an expert on-on ya know … heehee,”
“Very well.” the Top’s face breaks into a satisfied smile. She finishes up with a few more brisk hand swats in quick succession, covering both cheeks.
“We are done missy.” Penelope rubs Rosie’s burning crimson bottom with one hand while retrieving a tube of Arnica with the other. She generously applies the cream over the soundly spanked glowing globes.
“Happy birthday, Rosie.” The Top gently and skillfully massages the sore bottom cheeks, one at a time. “By the look of it, you’ve had enough of a birthday spanking I reckon?” Penelope playfully squeezes the fleshy bits of the cheeks.
“Yes, Ma’am, I have. Tha-thanks.” Rosie wiggles her hips, thoroughly enjoying the attention on her backside. She closes her eyes for a while.
After a few minutes of gentle aftercare, Penelope lifts Rosie to her feet and winks, “Right, I shall expect to see you next week then?”
“Oh yes, absolutely!” Rosie can hardly contain her excitement.
Pulling up her underwear and jeans gingerly, Rosie cringes a bit when her sore bottom touches the clothing, but her body feels nice and warm and her heart full of joy. She turns to the bigger woman and they embrace. “Thanks Doc for uh… making my birthday so … memorable.”
“My pleasure, darling.” A pleased Penelope playfully tousles Rosie’s short hair and then swats her on the buttocks one more time, “Run along then, young lady. Your friend must be wondering why you’ve been in here for so long.”
“Yes, Ma’am. Ciao.” Rosie’s departing swagger is as expansive as when she came in despite with a stinging bottom, notices Penelope with a big grin.
‘Ah, and to think I almost didn’t come tonight!’ The Top shakes her head delightedly while flipping the sign on the door to ‘Available’ again.
Rosie spots Lily rubbing her bottom at the cash bar, drinking a root beer.
“There you are, where you been?” Lily turns around and takes a big swig.
“Um…, I was with Doc … ya know, Flo …” Rosie feels a bit giddy, rubbing her sore bottom.
“This whole time?” Lily’s eyes widen, “Did she give you a nice birthday spanking?”
“Oh yeah, the best.” Smiling from ear to ear, Rosie’s face glows and glistens under the soft light.
Lily looks more closely, “Wait, what’s that on your face? Oh my gawd, were you crying?”
“Um…, no … yes … maybe.” Rosie wipes her face with one hand a bit self-consciously. She rubs her throbbing bottom vigorously, “Long story. I’ll fill you in later, after I get me a large Cosmopolitan!”