LSF Publications: spanking fiction ebooks

The Payment for Uniform Infractions
by Sarah Thorne
The house was quiet... too quiet. A good thing, really. It meant she could concentrate on her work for a spell before everyone got home and began to tear through the house.

Her mind wandered, however. Where was he today? She really did have the itch to get frisky and be spanked, as it had been several weeks. Amid juggling two very hectic schedules, kids' soccer practices, orthodontists, and simply just family time, it was difficult at best to find time for their favorite (or next to favorite) activity. She had thought he had said that he was taking the day off, but he was nowhere to be found.

The tip of her pencil broke.

"Damn!" she swore under her breath, pushed back her chair and got up. She made her way out of the dining room down the long hallway to his study to use the pencil sharpener. She stopped when she saw him behind the desk.

"Oh! There you are!" she said in surprise.

He looked up, his expression one she couldn't quite make out. "Young lady!" he boomed and she jumped slightly, astonished.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"What? What? Is that how you are to address me, Ms. Rayna?"

She stood there dumbfounded, not exactly sure what he was doing. Was he drunk? She backed away when he got up and made his way toward her authoritatively.

"Young lady, uniform infractions will not be tolerated at this school! Your parents pay good money for you to dress and act like a proper lady! Do you have an explanation why you are, once more, out of uniform?"

Still in shock, she looked down at herself and the way she was dressed, clad in an oversized t-shirt and cut off shorts, hair haphazardly pulled up in a clip.

"I... I..." she stuttered, thrown completely off guard.

"SPEAK UP, GIRL!" he boomed. "This is not the first time! I suggest you return to your dorm and put on the proper attire, fix your hair appropriately, and then return for your punishment!"

"But I have work to do..." she said as the wife to her husband.

"It will wait, young lady. Now do as you are told!"

Crazy. He was crazy; this was crazy. She hadn't time for games. "Kyle..."

He moved so swiftly that she barely had time to grasp what was happening as he turned her around and bent her over the desk, delivering several very hard blows to the outside of her cotton shorts. "Owww... Kyle..."

"Young lady! Do you dare be so insubordinate as to disrespectfully call me by my first name?" he demanded, still smacking her bottom, her legs raising from the knee down, one at a time.

Okay, she finally caught on. Obviously, he was in the mood for this and she would not get any peace until his need was satisfied.

The Performance Review
by Luna Austin
I didn't hear my boss come up behind me as I stacked my edited performance review on top of my outbox.

"Ruby, it's time for your performance review." He noticed the copy on my desk. "What's this doing here?" he frowned. "Employees aren't supposed to see these until the one-on-ones."

I shrugged, not wanting to give myself away.

"I'll be taking this." He swiped the paper from the pile.

"I could just shred it," I offered, holding out my hand for it. "It's probably an extra."

"Perhaps. But I'll keep it for now, I want to check something. Come with me."

I trailed behind my boss, a well-muscled man who clearly spent a good amount of his non-working hours at the gym. He closed the office door for privacy and told me to sit down.

"I don't know if you're aware of this, Ruby, but when I first get the reviews, I scan them into each employee's file before sending the whole lot to be shredded. Which means this," he tapped on the sheet he'd removed from the inbox, "should not exist."

I paled a little. But nothing was proven. I'd keep my mouth shut.

"Now, it could be a simple mistake. I'm not sure how it would have ended up in your outbox in that case, but I'll get to that later. For now, let's see if it was a mistake. If it was, there shouldn't be a scanned copy in your file." His eyes never once left my face, and I could tell he was watching for any hint of guilt. I wasn't any good at hiding my emotions, and I knew it. I was screwed. A few swift clicks had my file open, and sure enough, the original performance review document was there.

"Okay, Ruby," he said, voice steady but with a hint of anger behind his eyes. "How far did you go?" His eyes flipped between the scanned copy and the paper one in front of him. "I see you modified your scores."

"Just a little!" I burst out, then covered my mouth as I realized I'd admitted I'd messed with the document.

"That is irrelevant at this point, Miss." I fell silent.

"How did you get the original copy?"

"I... I..."

"They never leave my office after they are scanned in one piece. Which means you, or someone else, came in here and got it for you." I didn't want anyone else to come down with me, if I was going down, which seemed inevitable.

"It was me," I confessed.

"And you are towards the end of the alphabet. This means to get to your review, you had to look through most everyone else's review. Invasion of privacy." He leaned forward, and almost simultaneously, I leaned back.

Hearing the key in the front door as she came home from school, he shouted his usual "Hello!" but instead of going straight up to her room as she normally did, she turned into the living room. It struck him immediately that something had to be wrong; her face was pale and she was dragging her feet behind her.

"There's something I have to show you," she said in a thin, flat voice and handed him an inconspicuous little book. She had stuck her index finger between two pages to make it open in the right place. Only when he looked inside, he recognized the little message book used for notes between school and parents. At first he only saw the small notes in his own handwriting from the times she had been sick or was to be excused from gym, but then he noticed a message in a different handwriting in the bottom corner. It continued on the next page, but he got the gist of it before he turned the page.

"Cheating!" he said, "You have been caught cheating on a geography test?"

With a timid smile she replied, "I didn't mean to cheat, but I had forgotten to put my notes in my bag, and the teacher assumed I had them on my desk to cheat."

"That was quite careless at best," he said, "but this note indicates you were not the only one?"

She swallowed. "Yes, no, not quite..."

"Someone I know?"

"Yes... Margrete also got caught," she said and blushed.

"Margrete? Didn't you go to study with her the night before?" A nod was all the answer he got. "According to the note this will be on your report card, and you will probably get a D in geography as you couldn't answer any of the questions after the test!"

She blushed even more and replied, "I really could, but I was so nervous because of what had happened that my mind just went blank!"

"And Margrete didn't remember a thing either?"

"I don't know. Not much, I think."

He looked closely at her. "So you had really studied, then? The only reason you were allowed to go to Margrete the night before was because you were going to study for the test!" She nodded and looked even more unhappy. He suddenly thought of something. "But that test wasn't today, it was yesterday!" He looked down to check the date on the note. "Shouldn't you have delivered this note yesterday?" She nodded. He said, "But then Margrete's mother must already know. I think I'll give her a call."

"No, no, don't do it!" she pleaded.

"Why not?"

"Because..."

"Because what?"

"Because..." she hesitated. "We weren't at Margrete's that evening. Margrete got a phone call and then we went out to meet..."

"To meet...?"

"Some boys."

"Well, you didn't study then? Perhaps you didn't really know that much geography, did you?"

Judicial Snafu
by Jeff Chadwick
Thirty-two-year-old Brooke slipped on her nightgown, poured a cup of coffee, and sat at the kitchen table. Bleary-eyed, she looked over yesterday's unopened mail. An official looking envelope marked 'Corrections Department' caught her attention. She opened it and read the contents. Then she read again, to make sure the words were real.

To: Ms. Brooke Erica Hoffman (ID# 26630149937)

This letter serves as official notice that Brooke Erica Hoffman is summoned to appear at the Southside Corrections Facility at 9 am on March 7, 20**, to receive judicial corporal discipline as per sentencing in Circuit Court case #4761002. Attendance is mandatory. Petitions for postponement must be applied for at the Correctional Facility at least 3 days (excluding weekends and public holidays) prior to a scheduled disciplinary session. Postponements are granted only for medical reasons. If an emergency situation arises that prevents attendance at a session, an emergency petition must be applied for within 3 days (excluding weekends and public holidays) following the scheduled disciplinary session. Failure to comply with these conditions will incur additional penalties.

The words made no sense. What sentence? Brooke had never been to court, ever. Was this some kind of mistake? Was it a joke? Confused and more than a bit panicked, she called the number listed on the letter.

After twenty minutes navigating phone menus, she finally reached a bored-sounding operator. "Ma'am, you are definitely in the system for a twenty swat discipline session. What for? I'm sorry ma'am, I can't seem bring up the records of your court case. No ma'am, I don't know why they aren't available. They should be. There have been some computer issues lately. You'll need to talk to someone in person, ma'am, there's nothing I can do here."

Obviously it was some kind of mistake. Brooke worked a part-time contract with a PR firm, and was a freelance writer on the side, so she figured she was entitled to take a day off to go deal with it. She got showered, dressed in a simple blouse and skirt combination, and drove to the facility as quickly as she could. But not so quickly that she'd run the risk of a ticket. That would be a bad idea right now, she suspected.

Judicial corporal punishment had been proposed right about when Brooke graduated from journalism school. Her first big splash as a wet-behind-the-ears newspaper writer came with a column supporting the idea. She'd argued it was much more humane to dole out a sound strapping to minor criminals, rather than relegate them to the overcrowded and brutal prison system, which was less likely to reform them than to turn them into hardened criminals. That had gotten her journalism career off to a flying start.

Collective Nouns
by Margaret Jane
Something was different about him that morning. His walking pace was quicker, his tie wasn't knotted to its usual perfection - he was definitely excited. He actually smiled when he greeted her.

"Good morning Miss Moore, no calls for the next fifteen minutes."

He practically slammed his office door and she wondered what exactly was going on.

Did she dare? She thought she did. Company policy allowed her to track his internet usage. He logged on immediately and to her amazement he looked up a website about birds - of the feathered variety! She dared even more by listening in to his first phone call - the dialling code was to a distant city.

"Arthur, have you seen it?"

An unknown male voice answered. "I certainly have, how soon will you be able to get away from work?"

"I can probably manage Friday off. That should give us three clear days; I just hope they haven't flown off by then. Look I'll make my travel arrangements and let you know on Thursday what I've managed to get sorted."

"Brilliant - hear from you then."

The two phones went down simultaneously.

Mr Fitzroy next booked himself into a very plush B&B miles away. Sophia found this very unusual as he would normally ask her to make these arrangements for him. He then rang the CEO and asked for Friday off. Sophie had never heard the CEO laugh before.

"Oh god, you're not off twitching again, Geoffrey?"

"Certainly am, Sir."

Sophia googled 'Twitching'. None of the results made sense until she came to the entries about bird watching.

Sophia thought fast; she'd wanted Mr Fitzroy since she started working as his PA. He barely seemed to notice her and Sophia wasn't used to being ignored. She went back to his initial website search and read quickly. Very rare blue ducks had been spotted on a bleak estuary somewhere in the north. She knew what she was going to do. Mr Fitzroy was nothing if not a creature of habit.

She had a hurried chat with her best friend in Accounts and they held a highly stage managed conversation during tea break when Mr Fitzroy was collecting his coffee and pastry.

"It's such a shame my dad is too ill to travel and I've no way of getting there without him. He'd love me to see the blue ducks; he's been hoping they'd get established again. He used to watch them when he was a boy."

"That's such a shame, Sophia," gushed her friend. "If only you knew someone else who was interested."

Mr Fitzroy paused by her desk.

"Are you talking about the blue ducks that were spotted yesterday, Sophia?"

Sophia looked convincingly taken aback.

"Why yes, Mr Fitzroy, how do you know about them?"

From there she reeled him in hook, line and sinker. He had no idea she'd played him.