Reading Time: 7minutes Hi there ! My name is Sue-Anne and I want you to know right off that I'm not a bad girl. Honest I'm not. I'm a good girl. Sweet 18 and almost never been kissed. I get straight A's at college and I'm like *the* most popular girl in my college class.
Hi there ! My name is Sue-Anne and I want you to know right off that I’m not a bad girl. Honest I’m not. I’m a good girl. Sweet 18 and almost never been kissed. I get straight A’s at college and I’m like *the* most popular girl in my college class. But I had this little bit of bother yesterday. I was doing some chores for our neighbor, Mr Grosch. He’s this grumpy old guy who lives by himself. He’s got this totally incomprehensible German accent, like Arnold Schwarzeneggar chewing super-glue. Anyway, I’d sweet-talked him into letting me work around his house because I need to make money. I’ll be able to drive soon and mom says that if I can prove I’m saving hard she’ll help me buy a car. Kewl ! So there I was after school that fateful summer afternoon, flicking a feather-duster over Mr Grosch’s grungy abode, when I just happened to glance into his desk drawer.
Wow ! There was like a whole bunch of money just laying there in crumpled up old $5’s and $10’s. It didn’t look like he’d miss a few, but I sure needed a boost to my car-savings plan. I was just stuffing a measly few bucks into my bra when I heard this loud roar of.. “THIEF”.. behind me. Ohmigod .. it was Mr Grosch and he’d caught me ! Well the old miser was royally pissed for some reason best known to himself. He was going to tell my mom, which would’ve meant no car and grounding until the next millenium. I batted my eyes and begged him not to tell mom, which was about when the word ‘spanking’ came up. Spanking ? Good lord, which century was this old nazi from ? Did people still do primitive stuff like that ? My mom and dad had never spanked me but how bad could a few swats on the ass be ? So I agreed.
He shut the blinds and closed the door, at which point I started to get a little nervous. Well you would, wouldn’t you ? He sat on the couch and pointed a stubby finger down at his lap. Eh ? Crikey, I hope he didn’t expect me to do something rude to him ! “Get over my knee bad girl and I give you spanks” .. he growled in his stupid German accent. Phew ! Major relief ! Thats OK then ! So I kind of meekly sidled over and stood beside him, fingering the hem of my little school skirt. He’d been gardening and he had on this sweaty old under-shirt and baggy khaki shorts. Grisly grey whiskers too. Yuckity yuck ! I lowered myself gingerly across his lap and tried to settle down in the unfamiliar position. I felt his hand rest on the back of my legs, then he was lifting my tartan skirt right up over my waist. Major embarrassment ! I gritted my teeth. Thank god no-one would ever know about this.
The first smack made me jump like I’d sat on a hot stove. God damn it hurt ! I wriggled around to look at him and said politely “Is that it Mr Grosch ?” . He just laughed. Well it was more than enough for me, so I started to get up but he pushed me back down over his lap and held me there while I fought to get free. Then the spanking really started. The little white cotton panties I was wearing were totally no protection at all. All that gardening must’ve toughened his hand up or something because it felt like a great big old hard wooden paddle. He whacked my bottom again and again, muttering “Bad girl learn lesson” in that thick German accent as he did. Thank goodness the door was closed, because I was wailing like a banshee.
Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse Mr Grosch yanked my panties down. The nerve of the guy ! How dare he ! But when I tried to protest he just grabbed me by the hair and pushed me back down. “Not finished yet little bad girl” he said. Oh dear ! It was really hurting now. I mean *really* hurting. Worse than when that bitch Jennifer pushed me over in dance class and I skinned my knee and broke a nail. I was like biting the cushion to keep from screaming.
I could feel my ass glowing red-hot and sore. Every swat made me jump and cry out. I was begging him to stop ..”Please Mr Grosch .. I’m so sorrry .. I’ve learned my lesson..I’ll never do it again”.. but he wasn’t taking a blind bit of notice. However hard I struggled he just kept me pinned down. However I wriggled, his hand still made contact with the same sore spots on my ass with increasing severity. I was starting to think that old Mr Grosch was some kinda expert at this, trained in the deadly ancient art of spank-fu or some such shit. I had cheer-leading practice on Monday and if my butt was bruised in the changing room, enquiring minds would wonder what I’d been doing over the weekend. This kinda thing could ruin a girls reputation !
It was a tussle, but old Mr Grosch was real strong. Perhaps he really was Arnies grandad. I squirmed up off his lap a little but he just kept on spanking. In all this unseemly wriggling around my blouse had pulled up out of my skirt and the buttons had come undone. “Hey, you can cut that right out Mr Grosch”… I yelled tearfully, but he just carried on. His hand was whacking my burning ass. Rub.. smack .. rub .. smack. And you know what the absolute worst thing was ? I could feel my nipples starting to get hard….and so could Mr Grosch !
My ass was like totally on fire by now. I was sobbing and crying, laying there over his lap. His hands were tugging at my blouse, unfastening my bra, pulling my clothes off. Then he started in spanking me again. I was truly howling with the pain as he smacked the hot, sore parts all over again. As I wriggled about on his lap I could feel my bare tits rubbing against his fat hairy thighs. And I could feel something hard stirring under me and poking up into my tummy. I may be a good girl, but I had my suspicions about what that was ! Mr Grosch ! You nasty man !
This was much worse than I thought it would be. Right then I didn’t think I’d ever be able to sit down again. My ass was on fire and his big hard hand was fanning the flames. But something else was going on too. Mr Grosch was still muttering gibberish about ..”bad girls need the spanks”.. as his punishing palm searched out the sore places on my behind, but the bulge under me was hard as a rock now and I noticed he groaned a little every time I pressed my tummy down on it. How odd !
It was only when I felt his fingers on the inside of my thigh that I realised my legs were wide apart. Good Lord ! I guess modesty takes a back seat when some German pervert is torturing your ass. I tried to close my legs in a ladylike way but Mr Grosch wouldn’t let me. “You be good girl”.. he wheezed, rubbing his thick fingers up the insides of my thighs and cupping my pussy in the palm of his hand. I couldn’t help but think that his idea of a good girl right now might be a bit unconventional !
This is the hard part to tell you. Remember, I’m really not a bad girl but this might make you think I am. It seemed like Mr Grosch’s spankathon had stopped at last. My ass was .. well .. I can’t describe how sore it was but just think extremely, totally, un-sittable-on. I was still crying, but I was suddenly very tired. I felt like I was drifting off on a big pink cloud. Mr Grosch was rubbing my ass gently with his hand and it was just lovely. Rubbing ..mmmm… and stretching . Stretching ? Yikes !
I could feel his big gnarled old hands stretching the hot cheeks of my ass apart, feeling me up, exposing my pussy. He kept gently pushing my hips down so my tummy rubbed his big bulgy thing. I guess I should have maybe lodged a protest, but what could I do ? And you know it felt kind of dreamy just laying there now the spanking had stopped. I was totally helpless. Everything below my waist was just this lovely tingly glow. Maybe he bent down and kissed my hot ass, or maybe I just imagined it. Like I said, I was floating in this pink fuzz of sensation and everything seemed incredibly warm and slowed down and spaced-out. Yummy !
The next thing I knew Mr Grosch had tipped me right across his lap so my head was down near the floor and my ass was right up in the air. I just lay there across his lap, butt in the air, legs wide apart. My ass was still on fire but Mr Grosch’s careful rubbing of the sore places funnily enough made it all right after a while. When he finally let me get up off his lap I could hardly stand, but I had this big woozy grin on my face. He had to help me put my bra and panties back on, and point me in the direction of the door. Oh Boy !
So now I’ve got this regular part-time job lined up to help me save for my car, and I think its going to work out real well. Mom is amazed. She says I’m a very good and industrious girl. Every Saturday afternoon until the end of term I’ll be going around to old Mr Grosch’s place to do house-work and stuff for him. The pays pretty good and he’s not such an ogre when you get to know him. He says he’s going to be very strict with me though. He says that if I don’t do the job properly or if I’m the least bit naughty, then I know what to expect. He showed me this leather paddle he keeps in a drawer, so I think I have a pretty good idea of what he means by that ! He says he’s going to make me into a good girl, but I’m a good girl already. I am, aren’t I ?
Coleen is a writer, photographer and film maker at Wasteland and Sssh.com.
Here at BDSMCafe.com, she is editor and curator of this comprehensive library of BDSM fiction, informational articles and other educational features that date back to the early days of the internet in 1996 when the site was first launched.
