It was Saturday morning and I needed a break from studying so I thought I would try to round up a friend or two to go out and do something. I didn't have far to travel to my first stop since it was the apartment next to mine. I didn't know two of the women that lived there very well but the third was in the same graduate program as me and we got along together pretty nicely. When she answered the door I said, "Hello Sweetheart. What do you say we get the rest of the gang and check out the zoo? Come along quietly and nobody will get hurt."

It got a smile but the lightness quickly faded and she appeared pretty dejected as she spurned my offer. I couldn't just leave with her looking like a lost puppy so I closed the door behind me and asked her what was wrong. I was too late to stop the tears. She started crying as she turned away from me and sat on the sofa. I plopped myself next to her and she fell into my arms.

After a few minutes she composed herself and I dabbed under her eyes with my handkerchief. She asked if I remembered the test we got back the day before. Of course I did and she said that was the problem. Not that I remembered it but because of the grade she got. I tried to be sympathetic and encouraging as I said, "Don't worry about it. I know you didn't study for it but I'm sure it was just a temporary lapse. You're very smart. One bad grade isn't going to ruin your chances for graduating and you'll do much better on the next test."

She sniffled and said, "I got an `A'"

With just the teeniest bit of sarcasm I answered, "Oh, now I comprehend your dilemma. Getting the highest mark you can receive would get me upset too. I just hate it when I get good grades. I got an `A' once and I felt bad for weeks." My humor wasn't getting the response I hoped for so I gave up and said, "I'm afraid I don't understand why you have a problem with the grade."

He short response left me speechless. "I cheated."

This was not the girl I thought I knew. She was unbelievably honest. We would tease her every time she drove us somewhere because she wouldn't go one mile an hour over the speed limit. And then there was the time we went to get lunch and she drove back into the fast-food drive-through because they gave her a dollar more in change than they should've and she wanted to return it. Now she's telling me she cheated on a test? But if she got her test back what was she upset about? I asked if she got caught.

She broke into tears again just after she said, "No."

O.K. I'll admit it. I was stumped. "Then what's with the crying. You're safe. It was a stupid thing to do but you got away with it."

She said, "That's the problem. I cheated and that wasn't right. I should've gotten caught. Now I'm going to feel guilty. It's just like last time."

Ever insightful I said, "Last time? You mean you've cheated on tests before?"

She stopped crying but still sniffled as she explained. "It was when I was in junior high and the teacher caught me. I failed the test and she wrote a note about it that I had to have signed by my parents."

I interrupted, "That doesn't sound like the same thing. This time the professor didn't find out."

She looked down and continued, "I didn't take the note home. One of my friends forged my father's signature and the teacher never questioned it."

Still a bit confused I asked, "And this was a bad thing because..."

"Because it was wrong and I felt guilty about getting away with something as horrible as cheating and lying about bringing the note home."

I offered some of my great insight. "But you were just a kid. Doing stupid things is required at that age."

She smiled. "I know that now but at the time all I knew was that I had done something very wrong and hadn't paid my penance."

I asked, "In that case, why didn't you just tell your folks about the test? They were young once and they understand mistakes."

She nodded. "I could be very noble and say I was trying to save them from being disappointed in me but at the time all I could think of was myself. My real concern was my ability to sit comfortably for the next couple of days which is something I wouldn't have been able to do if they saw that note. In retrospect I think that taking my punishment and getting it over with would have been better than feeling guilty for weeks. I've always tried to do the right thing and accept responsibility when I screw up but who can I confess to now? If I tell the professor he'll flunk me and there goes my degree. I'm too old to claim childish foolishness as the reason and now it really would be a great disappointment to my parents. So I'm stuck with the guilt. I'm sorry for being such a wet blanket. You want to go out but I'm not going to be much fun as company today. Go and have a good time. Don't worry about me, I'll get over this thing in time."

Somehow, going to the zoo didn't seem very important right then. Not when I had a friend in need. Suddenly I had an idea. Maybe it was a stupid idea but at least it was something and to help her, anything was worth a try. I asked where her roommates were and she said they had gone out shopping at a large mall. They asked her to go with them since they were planning on making it an all day trip but the turned them down for the same reason she didn't want to go with me. However, she didn't tell them why and then added, "It would have been too embarrassing. I didn't mean to cry in front of you but I couldn't stop myself. I still feel just as guilty but I had to tell somebody even if it didn't do me any good."

I was more eager than ever to try my idea. I said, "Maybe it did. You said you wanted to confess to someone and you just did. If it'll make you feel any better, I'm very disappointed in you. I really like you and would hate to think of you as the kind of person who would stoop so low as to cheat on a test. I have a solution to your problem if you're willing to try it."

She asked what I had in mind but I didn't answer. That is, I didn't answer in words. I had a feeling if I told her what I planned she would immediately refuse but if neither of us had to say anything out loud maybe she would go along with it. Fortunately, she was sitting on the right side of the sofa and I was in the middle so there was no need for either of us to have to get up and move. I had been holding her during our conversation so I already had my arms around her. I gently pulled her towards me and there was plenty of room for her head on my left as I led her to a face down position over my legs. Although I was hoping for her acquiescence, I was also half expecting her to speak up and either demand to know what hell I thought I was doing or since her new position made it fairly obvious, to get off the sofa and slap my face.

Neither happened. I slid her forward so her rear end was directly under my right hand which came down as soon as it could. I waited for her to explode in indignation now that there was no doubt about my intentions but instead she rested her head on her hands and although she turned her face away in what I assumed was embarrassment, it appeared I had gotten her permission to continue. I repeated my feelings of shock and dismay at her lack of discipline in not studying and then to risk her whole career in order to pass one silly little test. I punctuated my lecture with numerous spanks and they were getting harder and harder with each word.

She was crying again but it couldn't have been because the spanking was hurting her. I think she was letting her guilt have an outlet through her tears. I was just providing the excuse. She was getting what she thought she deserved to cleanse her soul.

Maybe I should've kept the spanking at that level but it didn't sound like her parents limited themselves to only a few hand slaps over her clothes. If she truly wanted to be absolved of her crime it would have to be something more than just a token punishment. I stopped both the lecture and the spanking and guided her to her feet so she was standing directly in front of me. It was now an established fact that I had taken it upon myself to see to her proper chastisement so I felt safe in speaking about it. "Your parents would be extremely disappointed in you and since they're not here, I'm going to see that you get the kind of spanking they would have given you if they knew how their daughter cheats on tests." Hearing no objection to my decree, I lifted the bottom of her sweatshirt and told her to hold it up so I could get to the snap on her pants. She took it in her hands and even pulled it a little higher as I undid the fastenings and the pants came down. I leaned over and she lifted one foot after the other as I removed them entirely.

When I came up again I noticed she had the sweatshirt high enough so I could see the bottom of her bra. I don't know what came over me but I said, "Take it off." In one sweeping motion it went over her head and fell to the floor. Since she was barefoot when she answered the door she was now clad only in her underwear. I always thought she was pretty but now she was beautiful. She was blushing and there were still signs of tears so it was time to get back to business.

I put one of the throw pillows over my lap ostensibly to raise her bottom a bit more but actually to try and hide the effect that spanking a partially clothed and very good looking girl was having on me. When she was over my lap again she turned her face towards me and gave me a nod as if to say she was ready for the next phase. I returned her gesture and accentuated my concurrence with my hand many times. During this portion of her spanking the waterworks started again and additionally, she was giving out little grunts and quiet sounds that led me to believe she was really feeling the effects of my rising and falling hand. Actually, I don't think she minded the hand going up, it was the coming down hard and fast that she acknowledged most vocally. Anyway, her bottom was bouncing with each impact and the skin outside the boundaries of her panties was getting pretty red. We were finally getting somewhere but although it was obvious it was really hurting, we weren't anywhere close to infringing on her ability to sit comfortably for more than an hour or two at the most.

I was taking my role as her parent in absentia seriously but I wanted to make sure I was doing it right so I slowed the pace of the smacks and asked about how they spanked her. She said it would be too humiliating to talk about but a few more well placed and very hard swats helped her overcome her shyness. As I said, I was not striking as fast as I was earlier but I didn't stop completely so her explanation was often interrupted by some little cry or yelp. I won't try to accurately reproduce what she said but in essence I discovered that she was subject to corporal punishment at their hands (and other things I found out about later) until she was sixteen. However, it must be said that, for the most part, her feelings about honesty and clear definition of right and wrong were deeply ingrained and the need for external discipline was a very rare event. But when it was necessary, they were not adverse to seeing it applied in a manner to make a lasting impression.

Although this was enlightening I still was in the dark as to their technique. An interlude of very hard swats got her to tell me more. Their method of choice was a stern lecture while she was over their laps getting her first spanking. That was the prelude to her real punishment which was usually with her wooden hairbrush. I asked if that was what they used all the time and she admitted that on one occasion she tried to hide the brush when she knew she was in for a spanking but she only did that once. Her father was upset but not deterred and used his belt as a suitable substitute. Additionally, he felt this method would have limited effect if she was on his lap so he made her bend over a chair. She learned more than one lesson that day and always made sure the hairbrush was available after that. That's not to say she particularly liked getting spanked with it but given the alternative of receiving the belt when he could get a full swing prior to impact, she choose to be over his knees and letting their favorite implement drive its message home.

As you can imagine, it took a lot of effort on my part to elicit this history and it was getting harder for her to speak clearly but I had one more question. Did they spank her on the bare bottom? She must have had trouble remembering since I had to encourage her at least ten more times before she admitted to receiving all her punishments on unprotected skin. At that point she started sobbing so hard it was impossible to elicit any more information but I had heard all I needed to hear.

I stopped swatting and gently rubbed her until she calmed down. She turned her face towards me and asked if the spanking was over. Her voice was a little shaky and her cheeks were still damp so it was hard to read what she was really saying but I thought I detected a note of disappointment. I couldn't be sure and since the primary reason for this whole affair was to assuage her feeling of guilt, I would let her decide. I sent the question back to her by saying, "I don't know. Is it?"

She turned her head to stare straight ahead and after a few seconds, whispered, "No."

I had only part of my answer so I asked, "Do you know what I'm going to do next?"

Again I waited. She seemed to feel the need for more punishment but I don't think she was comfortable declaring her own fate. She shook her head and then contradicted herself by offering a suggestion. "You're going to spank me again."

I said, "Right. Where am I going to spank you."

She looked back me and not without a little bit of impishness, said. "Right here on the couch."

I clarified my question. "Where are you going to feel the punishment?"

She didn't hesitate this time. "My bottom."

I corrected her. "Almost right. Same question but tell me what your bottom is going to be wearing."

There was a catch in her voice as she said, "Nothing. You're going to spank me on my bare bottom the way my parents used to do."

I was slowly taking the initiative in deciding how and what was going to happen next. "Good. You got that one correct. Now what do you think I'm going to use to spank that bare bottom?"

She didn't answer which ironically was all the answer I needed.

I asked if she still had the hairbrush and this time she answered both this and my earlier question. "You're going to spank me with my old hairbrush. It's in my room. If you let me up I'll get it."

We stood up together and when she turned away and started to move I stopped her. "Stay here. Tell me where it is and I'll bring it out. In the meantime, I want you to stand here and think about what you did to deserve this and contemplate how that brush is going to feel on your bare bottom. And speaking of that..."

I pulled her panties down to her knees and told her to keep them there until I returned. Then she would take them off completely before going back over my lap. She was starting to cry again but she nodded and said the brush was on her dresser. In order to keep the panties from falling any further she had to open her knees and I was looking at more than she wanted me to see.

The old hairbrush was a formidable object. Thick wood with a wide head and I returned to find her as I left her. I sat down and said it was time to continue. I got the feeling she was glad to put her legs back together while not really being very happy about doing the final preparations for the sort of spanking she remembered as the reason she had her friend forge her father's signature.

She had to bend down to finish the job and when she stood upright again I got rather bold. She had shown no reluctance to remove her sweatshirt earlier and she looked silly dressed in nothing but her bra so I pointed to it and said, "That too."

I'm sure she had never had a punishment quite like this one. Not only was her rear end going to pay for her sins but she was going to be totally nude in front of one of her friends who just happened to be of the opposing gender. Her face became even redder but she obeyed. When this last garment fell to the floor with the rest of her clothes she did a September Morn stance with one hand covering her privates and the other arm across her chest. I could see she was getting impatient for me to get on with the next spanking and get it over with but I kind of liked what I saw and felt I was in the position to demand more.

I told her, "You're being punished and part of that includes the loss of your rights to modesty. Put you hands at your side and push your shoulders back." Without a word, she did as I commanded and I and spent a few minutes looking at her lovely form. When I woke up this morning I never guessed that I would shortly be gazing at a lovely and totally naked girl and that she would voluntarily put herself across my lap for a hard spanking. She had done so once already and I had complete confidence that she was it going to do it again. The tears were streaming down her cheeks by the time I put the pillow back on my lap and patted my thigh as a sign that I was ready to continue with the physical part of her penance.

Yep, she reluctantly but of her own free will moved to my right and then stretched herself over me for more punishment. Not only was my target raised by the pillow but her muscles were firm and well formed so even laying flat, the twin hemispheres were rising above the rest of the territory like a couple of rounded plateaus. Although the area covered by her underpants was not quite as red as the areas where my hand contacted directly against the skin, it definitely showed signs of the spanking so far. It was a most enjoyable sight but she had an appointment with an old friend.

She buried her face in the cushion to muffle her cries as the brush landed. She vocally noted receipt of each swat and I gave her ample opportunity to repeat herself again and again. My hand got this area to bounce around but it was obviously no comparison to the actions the object I was using now was producing. Those breathtaking globes flattened out under the wood and quickly regained their form only to jiggle and wiggle delightfully as they anxiously and fearfully awaited the next visit from her faithful hairbrush.

I figured I would let her give me some indication when she thought she had enough. Aside from her screeching at each contact she was apologizing for her behavior and promising to be good in the future whenever she could form the words. What she wasn't saying was that she wanted me to stop. No plea for mercy or even for a few minutes respite and not once did her hands attempt to cover her bottom for protection. The brush continued to inflict its special brand of discipline and she submissively endured all it had to offer. Eventually, she seemed to collapse and the tension that I felt in her up to that point was gone. Except for the involuntary jump her body was forced to do in order to properly acknowledge the arrival of another impact, she was a limp target and totally accepting blow after blow. Even her cries of pain were losing steam. We had reached the point where further punishment would be of little benefit and besides, my arm was getting tired.

It was quite a while after I stopped before she was able to speak clearly. During that time I was doing my best to soothe the battered skin and telling her it was all over and she was forgiven. The important thing was if she forgave herself. Her face was a mess but still managed to have a look of contentment when she looked back at me and thanked me for being her friend and for giving her the punishment she needed. I was glad to hear her say she no longer felt guilty when we stood up.

We hugged each other and then I picked up her clothes. As I gave them to her she thanked me again and asked if I would mind waiting while she got herself cleaned up so she could go with me to the zoo after all. I smiled and gave her another hug.

The spanking had gone far beyond what I originally intended and had lost some of its erotic appeal so the reason for the pillow on my lap had subsided. I was holding a beautiful girl who was totally naked in more ways than just the lack of clothes but the desire to explore the delights of the flesh with her was not present. My arms were wrapped around a good friend and I was happy just to have been there to help her.

We decided not to gather any of the others and spent the day together. Luckily, the zoo was within walking distance so she didn't have to sit in a car enroute. She also choose to remain standing while we ate lunch. We had a lovely day and when I dropped her off back at her apartment I got a very sweet kiss.

I didn't see her on Sunday and waited till after class on Monday to mention her almost imperceptible squirming on the seat in the lecture hall. She blushed ever so slightly but smiled coyly as she whispered, "I hope nobody else noticed. I haven't had a spanking like that in years. In fact, I would have to rate it as the second worst one I ever got. I guess I should thank you. It hurt like hell and as you have noticed, I'm still a little sore but it made me feel better and believe me, I'll never even think of cheating on a test again."

I told her she was welcome but couldn't let that comment about being only the second worst one pass without comment so I asked her if the top honors went to the time she felt her father's belt. She shook her head and said it was not something she wanted to talk about on campus but if I would spring for dinner she would give me all the gory details. What an offer. I accepted.

I wasn't sure where I was going to take her to eat but when my roommates announced their plans to play poker with some friends I knew I had the place to myself till the wee hours of the morning. She might be uncomfortable relating her spanking experiences in a restaurant but things might be different in the privacy of my apartment. I made my world famous spaghetti and put an extra cushion on the chair.

After dinner we sat on my couch and she snuggled into me. She said, "That was delicious and now I'll fulfill my part of the bargain. I should be embarrassed to talk about this but after what we did Saturday morning I feel I can tell you anything."

She gave me a kiss and it was a little more romantic than the quick peck I got after our outing. Then she settled back and began, "I told you how I can't keep a secret when I do something wrong. Well, as you can imagine that got my rear end in trouble a few times but usually my folks would say they were proud of me for telling them what I did before they had to find out from someone else and didn't feel the need to punish me too much. But as I said, not always and occasionally my bottom paid the price for my sense of honor even if there was no way they would have ever found out what I did unless I told them. The incident I'm going to tell you about falls right into that category."

"Your guess about the time my father put me over the chair and used his belt was pretty close. That one really hurt. I remember telling you I never neglected to have my hairbrush available when they punished me after that. It was the worst spanking he ever gave me but didn't hold that number one spot for long. I should tell you more about that first spanking so you can appreciate what came next. I knew I was in for a well deserved session over one of their laps and as you can imagine, it was not something I was looking forward to very much. I don't remember what I did but whatever it was, I didn't think it was worth getting the hairbrush for it. It was useless trying to argue with them but I thought I still could have some say in how I was punished so I told them I left my hairbrush at school. They didn't question my story since they had complete faith in my always telling the truth. For the most part, they were right. I still can't lie very well. Anyway, that night I learned that the hairbrush was not the worst implement they could use and that I was foolish to think I could have any control over the severity of my punishment."

"The other thing about that night was when I thought about how I had betrayed their trust and how they completely accepted my tale of the missing hairbrush. That gnawed at me all night and even though I was reminded of the belt every time I sat down the next day I was still feeling remorseful. After dinner I couldn't stand it any more and told them the how I had the brush all along and had made up the story about leaving it at school. To top it all off I added that I thought the spanking with the belt was a suitable punishment for my earlier misbehavior but I deserved nothing less than the original spanking I should have received with the proper tool. Although I normally did not engage in the practice, I knew they hated lying. Anytime they caught anyone telling them less than the absolute truth they would be furious, especially with politicians. But this was not some outsider, this was a member of their own family whose lips had been defiled. They agreed with my idea of repeating the spanking of the previous night and sent me for the hairbrush. When I returned and handed it to my father he said he would give me my first spanking. At the time I assumed he meant the lecture and hand spanking before the second portion with the brush. Boy was I wrong but I didn't realize it yet."

"I did get to hear him recount his disapproval of my actions while his hand prepared me for the real spanking and then he laid into me with the hairbrush. Let me tell you, getting that thing applied to my bare rear end after what it had been through the night before was no picnic. But that was only the first part of my punishment. My mother shoved a bar of soap into my mouth and sent me to stand in a corner. My crying just made me suck on it even more but I had been ordered to keep it in there until they said I could spit it out and there was no way I was going to disobey them. I was feeling sick to my stomach and I thought the pain in my ass would never go away but after about a half-hour it diminished to a dull but consistent ache. That's when I was told I could finally get rid of the soap but I was not allowed to rinse my mouth. Then they lowered the boom. My father had given me the original spanking I had been foolish enough to request and now Mom was going to give me another one for lying. I was dragged over her lap while she and her hand gave me her views on prevarication and then she let the hairbrush finish the conversation. It had a lot to say and took a long time saying it."

"Can you imagine? In less that 24 hours I got six spankings. Three with their hands, one with a viscous belt and now two with the hairbrush. I might add that they were both the longest ones I ever remembered. I was sent to bed and cried most of the night. I didn't sleep very much but they still demanded that I go to school. I hated sitting in class after they spanked me but I think I was usually able to hide my discomfort pretty well but not that day. I'm sure every one of my classmates and all the teachers could tell I was still subject to corporal punishment and had received a better than average dose in the recent past. I was embarrassed to tears every time someone made fun of the way I gingerly sat down for the next three days."

"Well, there you are. The story of my absolute worst spanking. The one you gave me was right up there but you'll have to go a long way to top the amount of punishment I took those two days. Actually, it was more than two days if you consider the humiliation I felt afterwards as part of it and they did."

I said, "I hope I never have to spank you like that but you let me know if and when you need a small refresher."

She laughed and said, "Next time I'm feeling guilty you'll be the first to know."

Neither of us said much for the next few minutes as our lips were otherwise occupied and when that embrace finished we decided to try another. Somehow my hand slid around to caress the front of her shirt which magically became unbuttoned. Now if I could figure out how to get that contraption around her breasts undone I'd be in business. She provided assistance and soon the shirt and bra were tossed to one side. More kissing and groping and then she pulled back. With an obviously false smile of complete innocence she put her hand on my crotch and said, "By the way, what was it you were trying to hide with that pillow? Were you getting turned on by spanking me?"

I probably blushed as I sputtered something but she save me from embarrassment by adding, "There was something about being almost naked and feeling your hand on my bottom that made it totally unlike any spanking I ever had. In some way it was sort of sexy. I tried to push those thoughts from my mind and concentrate on the punishment and you were a big help. What I needed right then was a really good spanking and you were kind enough to see that I got it. Long before you even started with the hairbrush I wasn't thinking about anything else except that I was sore and it was going to get a lot worse. It did. But I have to wonder. If you didn't spank me too hard and only used your hand on my bare bottom, how would I feel about that?"

This was an offer I couldn't refuse. I gave the only answer I could. "There's one way to find out."

She stood up and in a moment every stitch of her clothing was in a pile on the floor. There was no embarrassment this time as she put her hands to her side and moved her feet apart to let me stare at her. Part of me wanted to carry that lovely body to my bed but that would have to wait, at least for a little while. I patted my thigh as I did Saturday morning and soon was entranced by that gorgeous bottom under my eyes. There were still a few bruises from the hairbrush but there was plenty of room for the pale skin to turn red. In time it did but not a very deep shade. As requested, my palm landed relatively softly but repeatedly and without the pillow under her, she was well aware of how I was reacting to our game. I could only judge by her sounds that she was not finding our activity too unbearable either.

She was nice and pink when she rolled off my lap and knelt between my legs so her hands could free what needed to be out in the open. It did not stay exposed very long. While her mouth was working wonders I got rid of my clothes above the waist and she managed to stay wrapped around me as I stood up and let her remove my shoes, socks and pants. To be honest it was more comical than outright sexy but that did not diminish my enthusiasm. She had to let me swing in the breeze to get my underpants off and then she lay on her back and offered me another place to find refuge.

I'll save you all the details but we're much more than classmates now. On our wedding night I sat on the edge of the bed and got that wonderful bottom bright red before neither of us could wait any longer to consummate our marriage. It was a chore but one we felt the need to repeat numerous time that night and many nights since.

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