Here is an excerpt from The Scarlet Society and Other Stories that illustrates what I'm talking about.
The Amazon link is HERE
Over the following week Christine pondered whether to do this or not. She wanted to join the society, but did she have the courage? It was chilling to contemplate. Positively medieval. The Blanchettes might as well be The House of Usher. As a child she’d had no experience being physically punished. Her parents didn’t believe in it. Besides she was a good girl.
Except when it came to Johnny Burke, she reminded herself. They were an odd couple, she and Johnny. She was the good girl, studious, polite and refined. Johnny was a bad boy. He was rough around the edges, a bit rebellious, and had an aura of dangerousness about him. And that made her heart race whenever they were together. Naturally her parents didn’t care for him, but she was eighteen now. The thought occurred to her that maybe Johnny could help her make up her mind about the Scarlet Society.
For some time things between them had been moving in the direction of more intimacy. And while Christine was still a virgin, it was not her intent to remain that way much longer. Johnny’s hands had been all over her body and under her clothes, touching her, thrilling her. They frequently ended their dates out on the levee near the Mississippi River Bridge where they would repair to the back seat of Johnny’s car for some serious petting.
Tonight was no exception.
“So what if I was a real naughty girl, Johnny? What would you do?” asked Christine with a giggle as they snuggled in the back seat of his Chevy.
“Hmm,” mused Johnny smiling. “Real naughty? Well, young lady,” he said, affecting mock sternness. “Oh, I guess maybe I’d have to turn you over my knee and give you a good spanking.”
“Oh,” she said, pretending to be shocked. “But I’m too old for a spanking.”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” said Johnny with a light laugh. “A real naughty girl is never too old.”
“Well,” said Christine slowly, “I have a confession to make. I have been real naughty.” She said the last in a throaty whisper. “So I guess you’ll have to spank me.”
What game was this? Johnny didn’t care. It was quite delicious. He pulled an unresisting Christine across his knee. He smoothed her skirt down and rested his hand on her firm backside. For a long-waisted girl she had an exquisite and rather prominent bottom. He brought his palm down square in the center of her behind with a loud smack! Then he gave her another. Then another.
To Christine it just kind of tingled. He was spanking her through her skirt. Not a good test. Taking a deep breath, she brought her hands back and gripped the hem of her skirt. Slowly she raised it until it cleared her bottom cheeks and rested in the small of her back.
Johnny could not believe his good fortune. Christine’s lush bottom was now exposed in all its glory. Her lovely seat was encased in flimsy French cut nylon panties with white lace trim. The panties covered about half of her bottom leaving the lower portion of her bottom cheeks quite bare.
“I’ve been real naughty, Johnny,” she said in a husky voice. “You have to really spank me. Do it hard. Pretend I did something to make you mad.” Christine had decided that if she were going to find out what punishment felt like, who better than her heartthrob boyfriend to dish it out?
“Ok, Chrissy. I hope you know what you’re asking for. Here goes, girl.”
For the next five minutes she found out what a real spanking was all about. Johnny’s hand cracked down on her nearly nude bottom, smacking the wobbly cheeks in a measured tempo. His hand alternated cheeks, covering the expanse of her satiny behind. The sound of sharp cracks in the closed confines of the car was loud. She was glad they were alone. Someone might have thought firecrackers were going off. Christine gasped at the intense burn created by his smacking palm, but she let it continue as long as she could stand it. She found herself clenching and unclenching her buttocks, gasping at the steadily mounting sting and fluttering her legs.
When it reached a point where she could stand no more, she yelped frantically, “Ooooh! Stop. Stop, Johnny. That’s enough.” Johnny, not wishing to displease his sexy girlfriend, complied.
“Sure, baby,” he said, turning her over and sitting her up. Then he grinned. “I don’t know what you did, but do you feel better now?”
Christine got on her knees and reached behind her to rub. “Oooh, wow,” she said. So that was a spanking. When it was happening she had wanted it to stop, it stung so bad. Now that it was over, her bottom glowed and she felt sexy as hell. She let Johnny unbutton her blouse, then reach behind her and unhook her bra. When her tits popped out Johnny’s eyes lit up. “Gorgeous, baby,” he said, and proceeded to suck on her nipples. She swooned, holding his head between her hands as his eager tongue swirled around the tips. But he was just getting started. Her panties were already down so her vaginal opening was within easy reach of Johnny’s fingers. When he put his hand there and ran his finger in and out she shuddered at the intense pleasure of it. Then she did a daring thing. She pulled back and unzipped Johnny’s pants, pulling out his rock hard erection. It stood straight up, a thick fleshy pole. Johnny moaned as her hand traversed its length, up and down, over and over. They both began to buck, making the car rock. Christine decided that tonight was it. She moved, draping one leg over Johnny’s lap so she could lower herself onto his erect penis. She was ready, she told herself. The impaling hurt for a moment, then pleasure began to build. Their bodies pounded together, fused in an ancient rhythm. There was no stopping now. It felt too good. Christine’s climax surprised her in its intensity when it hit, welling up like an erupting volcano. Johnny came in great gasping thrusts, like a wild stallion.
After the date, in bed at home, Christina marveled at what had happened. If a spanking could do that, she’d be naughty for Johnny anytime.
Later she talked it over with Jane and Anne. They shared some experiences that each had had at some point in their lives.
“I got spankings from mom up until I was fourteen,” admitted Jane. “If I sassed her I got sent upstairs to wait. That was the worst part, knowing what was coming. Then she’d come in with her hairbrush. After that it was over her lap, skirt up and panties down while she spanked my bare behind until I was in tears. Let me tell you, it hurt. It just builds and builds, one smack piled onto the next until the sting is just too much. Your eyes water up and you know you’re going to cry, but you can’t help it.”
“I usually didn’t get spankings,” said Anne. “But one summer I was with my cousins out on their farm in Lafayette. We all got caught smoking. My aunt took us all out to the barn and one by one we had to drop our jeans and bend over a saw horse for a good licking with a leather strap. We each got a dozen. I watched my cousins get it first. That strap popped on their fannies and it sounded like firecrackers. Then it was my turn, and let me tell you, that strap stung. It was over an old sawhorse and panties down, an it burned something awful. I never smoked again, that’s for sure.”
Despite these tales, they nevertheless agreed. “One for all and all for one, girls,” said Jane as they placed their hands out, stacking their palms. That same day they announced their decision to a grateful Headmistress.
After that it was pins and needles for the trio. A date had not been announced, but all knew it had to come soon. Christine tried to put it out of her mind but the thought intruded daily. What would it be like? She looked up “birching” in the encyclopedia. It showed woodcuts and old artwork of youths under the rod--- bared buttocks and headmasters wielding switches. Her own buttocks twitched with the memory of last Saturday night. With Johnny it had been sexy. The tactile sensation of a lover’s palm smacking her tender bottom. But this birch rod? She shivered at the thought.