Disclaimer: The following story contains spanking themes.  If 
you are under age, or offended by such mattter, read no further.

This story is Copyright (c) 1996 by Don A. Landhill (DAL).  
All rights reserved.


		Next Time

	He was seated behind his desk.  She was standing in 
front of it with downcast eyes, literally on the carpet. A shaft of 
the warm Saturday afternoon sunlight lay across the room.

	“Young Lady, you’ve been impossible this past week.  
Your school report was very bad. You’ve been sassy and ill-
behaved all week. Your room is a disaster, even though I told 
you yesterday to clean it up by noon today. And to top it off, 
last night you came in two and a half hours past your curfew. 
I’ve put up with as much as I’m going to. . . . ”

	The scolding was the same as always.  She let her 
mind drift, tuning out his voice, until she was called back to the 
here and now with a SNAP.

	“. . . . You *pay attention* when I’m speaking to you, 
Young Lady!” You’ve earned yourself a good, sound spanking.  
We’ll see if that focuses your mind.

	“Oh Shit, I’m too old to be spanked. Fuck this, I’ve 
heard it all before.” She turned on her heel and started to leave. 
Instantly he was around the desk.  She was seized by her left 
ear-lobe, and felt a hard swat on her rear.

	“That’s quite enough out of you. Filthy language I will 
*NOT* tolerate, much less direct defiance.  Plainly talking to 
you is no use, so we’ll try something else.  Come along!”

	She was propelled down the hall by his grip on her 
ear, and a series of hard smacks on her bottom.  Soon she was 
in the bathroom, standing before the sink. He had a large bar of 
Ivory and was working up a lather.

	“Open up!” The soap was pressed against her tightly 
closed lips.  She didn’t move.

	“I said, Open UP!” He smacked the back of her skirt, 
hard. His tone promise worse if she continued to disobey. She 
slowly opened her mouth.  The soap was thrust deep, an 
swished back and forth. His other hand was on the back of her 
head, restraining her.

	“Now bite down, hard!” She closed her mouth, her 
teeth holding the soap somewhere near the middle.

	“Bend over, hands on the sink, knees straight.” He 
lifted her skirt and spanked her panties hard, again and again, 
two dozen swats at least. 

	“Straighten up, hands at your sides. Face me. Give me 
the soap.” She extended her tongue, with the soap perched on 
it.  He took it and held it in front of her face.

	“Filthy language, or defiant words, will always get 
you soaped. Next time, you’ll stand for ten minutes with it in 
your teeth, after your spanking.  Now what do you say?”

	“I’m sorry for my naughty language and defiance. 
Thank you for punishing me with the soap as I deserved.”

	“Good girl.  Now come along.”  Again her ear was 
seized, and she was marched down the hall to the beat of a 
swatted rear.

	“Over the arm of  the sofa. Grab the far edge of the 
cushion. Move, and you’ll get extras.” He folded back her skirt 
and lowered her panties. He unfastened his belt, took it off, and 
folded it double. 

	*Whack* “Ow!” *Whack* “Ouch!” . . . . 

	After two dozen hard strokes of the strap she is 
sniffing but not crying. “Now what do you have to say?”

	“Oh! I’m sorry for having been such a bad girl this 
week.  Thank you for punishing me with the strap as I 

	“Good girl.  Now stand up, and get your nose in the 
corner, Young Lady. Don’t bother to replace your panties.  
Hold up your skirt, so that your naughty, spanked bottom is on 
display.  You’ll stand there quietly for an hour.  Then its 
straight to bed for you, Missy. You’ll get no supper tonight.  
And while you’re waiting for me to put you to bed, I want you 
to think about your naughtiness and its reward.  Above all, I 
want you to think about what might happen next time.”

	She stood quietly in the corner. As instructed, she 
thought her actions and their punishment.  But mostly she 
thought about next time. . . .  Next time there was a punishment 

	Next time it would be her turn.  She wondered how he 
would like the taste of a fresh-cut switch.


 August 1996