Untitled @northernspanker - Tumblr Blog

Quand ton beau-frère - à la demande de ta soeur - te donne la fessée pour la première fois : t’es sûr, Béa ? on peut pas faire autrement ? et en plus fesses nues ? je le connais à peine, c’est très gênant ! je ne suis plus une petite fille, tu sais ?

albertfr9212

Aucune importance, en plus cette salope prend une vidéo qu’elle a l’intention de diffuser !

aveonifpfs

Procrastination Punishment

Sometimes all it takes is a soft little sound. Like a key turning in a lock unexpectedly. You instantly feel your stomach drop to your belly and look around you frantically realizing there’s no time to do anything but stay put and look at his figure walking into the living room and zeroing in on you. You see the pleasant expression melting away and giving its way to suspicion but there’s little you can do. You know you look like a deer caught in the headlights and he knows it too. “You’re home early,” you try pleasantly. “I didn’t expect you back until six!”

He quirks a brow now, “You don’t sound too happy about it,” he notes as he leaves his briefcase on the closest chair and uses a hand to relax his tie, before removing his suit jacket.

Your hands suddenly remember how they work and they attempt to close the laptop’s screen, but his “Freeze,” halts you completely.

You watch him closing up at you. You know he doesn’t need to. When you’re studying you’re always behind your desk. He knows that too well. That’s where he expected to find you. When you’re lounging on the couch you’re always relaxing. That’s not where you should be at this time of day. You feel him walk behind you and leaning over you, his cheek inches from yours, his hands on either side of you. You don’t need to look to see his gaze travel to the screen of the laptop. You don’t need to look to know his eyebrow will be raising even more by now. You hear one finger tapping on the leather of the couch.

You bit your lip. You think about finding an excuse, but you know there’s no use.

“Open your google doc,” he instructs.

Your fingers tremble slightly as you open a new tab and type away, the open social media tabs on the left of the new one taunting you. As the page loads your eyes focus on the small sentence underneath the document indicating the last time you edited it was two days ago.

You feel him nod. You feel his lips brushing against your temple for a second, before his hands close the laptop and remove it from your lap. You see him walking in front of you, folding his shirt sleeves up. You gulp.

“What were you supposed to be doing?” he asks simply as he sits on the empty spot on the black leather couch.

“Working on my thesis,” you say quietly.

“And what were you supposed to be doing yesterday?” He prompts again, finished with his sleeves and with his undivided attention to you. “Working on my thesis,” you repeat quietly.

“And have you?”

“No, sir.”

“So yesterday, when I asked you if you got any work done, and you said you did, you lied?”

“Yes.”

“And you’ve been procrastinating for two days now to do any of the work you need to be doing?”

“Yes…”

He nods again. And you gulp again. You don’t need an instruction. You slowly maneuver yourself over his lap and bury your face in one of the throw pillows of the couch. You shiver lightly as your bottom is bared. And then you slightly jump when the first impressive swat lands on the center of your bare ass.

As the spanks start falling faster and harder you start whining. You rarely cry no matter how hard things get but not vocalizing is impossible. Soon staying still is also impossible. As his hand smacks down hard and fast you’re practically dancing under the burning pain. And this keeps on for a long while. A much longer while than you’d have liked.

Then, you feel him patting your cheeks and you raise, panting slightly. Your hands immediately travel to your ass, but his sharp, “No!” startles you. He has never before instructed you to not rub after punishment. You look at him perplexed and draw in a sharp breath at his next words.

“Fetch the spoon!”

You simply stare at him for a second, “But you’ve never used the spoon for this before,” you say quietly.

“It’s the third time I caught you procrastinating in the last month. And judging by your lying to me yesterday, it might have happened even more times than that. So, you’ll bring me the spoon and I’ll make sure this won’t happen again, at least for a long while.”

His tone is dead serious. And you’re not used to such stern a tone from him. So you walk out of the living room and down the hallway, into your shared room. You move to the nightstand and open its drawer, where the spoon, that you’ve up to now felt only during playing, lays. You take it in your hand and slowly make your way back to him. As you pass the full body mirror of the bedroom you glance at your already dark pink ass and wince. Not wanting to make him wait, you continue to the living room. You hand it over quietly, eyes downcast. You feel a surge of surrealism. A few years back you’d never expect any of these to be part of your life, no matter how much you wanted it. Be careful what you’re wishing for. How many times had you heard that before?

He grabs the spoon along with your wrist. Before you know it you’re back over him, but this time he leads you over a single knee, legs spread on either side of his leg, your buttocks and upper thighs presented and offered to him to punish.

“Hands,” he instructs, and you immediately place both of your hands on your lower back, where he pins them by clasping his left palm over both wrists.

You don’t have to wait at all after that. The first swat of the wooden spoon lands smartly on your right cheek, one, two, three, four times. You yell and jump but he holds you down securely. The spoon moves to the other side falling multiple times, you can’t count any more, as the tool descends vigorously all over your ass, sit spots, and upper thighs, in unpredictable patterns. He concentrates on your upper thighs for a while and you howl, your feet kicking wildly. He turns his attention to the crease where your ass meets your thighs for what feels like forever. The pain is too intense and you feel drained. It burns and smarts and aches deeply in a manner it never had before. You realize this might be the harder spanking you’ve received up to this day and you squirm helplessly under the unrelenting spoon, which now falls even harder all over your ass and thighs.

You scream and beg and apologize. And he doesn’t stop. And you can only lay limp and take in the burning pain. Your hands are pinned on the small of your back and his hand keeps yielding the wooden implement hard and fast. When he finally stops you’re panting and can’t believe how much this hurts.

“Will you procrastinate again?” He asks, his tone stern.

“No, sir!”

CRACK!

“Will you work on your thesis like you’re supposed to?”

“Yes sir!”

CRACK!

“For the next two weeks, you will be sending me daily reports of your progress.”

CRACK!

“Once you’re done with writing, or reading articles, or doing whatever else you need to be doing, you’ll be hand-writing a synopsis of your work.”

CRACK!

“You will also share your document with me, so that I can check at any moment whether you’re working or not while I’m out of home.”

CRACK!

“And so help you God if I catch you slacking off, again. If you need a day off, you’ll ask for it and have it, if I grand permission.”

CRACK!

“Am I clear?”

You nod eagerly, “Yes sir,” anything for this punishment to end.

The spoon rises and falls again not once or twice, but many times, all over your throbbing ass and you whimper desperately. And then it stops. He drops it to the carpet and his hand starts rubbing soothing circles on your back.

Once he feels your body relaxing over his knee he lightly taps on one of your well spanked thighs. You move to your feet and he stands up as well. He hugs and kisses you lightly.

Then he stirs you to the desk. He removes the cushioned desk chair, and replaces it with a wooden one that usually rests on the side of the desk. He tugs you to it and gently presses your shoulders until you sit down on your sore throbbing bottom. You hiss and whimper but obey. He then brings you the laptop and places it in front of you.

“Begin working. I’ll check in on you in half an hour and I’d better see some progress,” he instructs. Before he leaves the room he places a kiss on your head.

You look at the screen pouting and biting your lip as you squirm, vainly trying to sit in a way that won’t hurt so damn much. You force yourself to focus to the task at hand and sigh as you reread the last part you had written. Before starting typing you remember to add him as an editor on the document. Cringing at the thought of what another spanking for the same reason will feel like you find the motivation you lacked and start typing away.

yn50

paleskinluvr

Them leggings. Wow! 💣🔥

lucy-cd

Lucy-CD | Boy to Girl Transformation Video

Hey everyone! I decided to have a go at making a Transformation Video yesterday as well as taking a lot of photo’s for you all. This has been asked for by a few in the past and I’m so happily I managed to make one. I’m thrilled with how this turned out, the end specifically puts a huge smile on my face. You may even learn a thing or two about makeup from this, either way I hope you enjoy <3

Also for those who may be interested the video was made using around 30mins of footage and edited with an App called Splice.

spankherbottomhard

True short story about two high school senior girls in Tennessee being paddled at school for discharging a stink bomb in the school hallway.

girlspyjamaspankings

The story of a typical bedtime spanking for Chriisy .(No words required)

retromanretro

Lesley was usually very well behaved. It had been over a year since she had last got in trouble. But dire school report combined with insolence directed toward mother was something not be tolerated. She knew she had pushed things too far and was genuine with her apology. Which was accepted. But with that her father explained that the very fact she knows how dire her attitude has been that he has no choice but to give her a severe and he meant severe thrashing with the rattan.