"Alright, I'm Sorry!"

[ezah]

An extract from And All Things Nice: An Anthology of Very Horny Stories - by K.A. Ryde and available now at all good websites called amazon.com

...

Grace and Hope were an unlikely, if poetically-named, couple.

First, there was Grace – a country bumpkin from Lincolnshire, born as stereotypically as possible to a potato farmer and a social worker, and still living on her parents’ farm as she tried to figure out what on Earth to do now that she’d graduated. She was the tallest of her siblings, of which there were three others, pushing six foot, but like them all her hair, which flowed down her shoulders and to her shoulder blades, was ginger as autumn leaves and her face covered in freckles, with a skinny frame which gave her a thigh gap that she’d never liked and hoped to get rid of. Her mother often told her that she was perfect but, frankly, she’d rather be fat. Curves were cute.

And then there was Hope – a short, curvy Thai-American girl from the edge of the Smoky Mountains, “cute as punch” as Grace had (and immediately regretted) described her to her friends with her glasses and curly black hair and soft face. Appalachia, she often said, coursed as thick in her blood as the islands of the Andaman Sea from which her father came from. It was reflected in her Southern drawl, her love for Bruce Springsteen, and her once-devout (though not so much anymore) Baptist faith. This latter point, it turned out, wasn’t much of an obstacle for her bisexuality. Hope had been as surprised as anyone.

That surprise first crystallised when she and Grace met – Hope had been holidaying in Britain with her family and, while Grace was studying in London, ran into each other at a bookshop. It turned out to be a textbook meet-cute – because I do mean “ran into each other.” Grace dropped her armful of books, Hope helped her pick them up, their hands went for the same one and touched, and as they looked at each other they realised this was too much like a bad romantic comedy to pass up and so got to talking. They were absolute opposites – they shared nothing except very small breasts, Grace pointed out to Hope’s scarlet blushes – and that was why they worked.

What might be called dates followed, with Hope wandering off from her group to meet up with the girl whom she assumed was just a new friend, whether to wander the city, go clubbing with Grace and her friends, or just sit somewhere and talk for hours on end without stopping. Hope hadn’t yet known she might like girls – then, when Grace kissed her outside Liverpool Street station as they said goodbye for the night, she realised it felt different from any Tennessee boy who’d pressed dry lips against her. In fact, she was fluttering – and, though she might be immensely shyer than the girl kissing back.

From then on, with Hope relieved to find herself unbothered by what she’d discovered about herself, the pair took every sn*tched moment they could, though nothing more than kissing ever materialised – but the day when they would have to part was fast approaching. A tearful goodbye outside Heathrow Airport followed, and so too did months of constant Skype calls and the belated realisation that they must be dating. Young and in love, both itched to see the other again – the coming summer Grace would fly to Tennessee, spend a month with Hope and her perfectly accepting family, and, to her regret, fail to take Hope’s virginity. Hope was still too nervous and too influenced by her Baptist roots which told her to save herself. Grace accepted that – after showering, she even got dressed in the bathroom. Grace found it a little odd that, after all this time, she still hadn’t seen her own girlfriend naked. But, again, she accepted it. After all, it wasn’t her priority. Just being with her was – and she had that.

But, during the stay, Hope had gotten a little too drunk and admitted something to Grace – unprompted, she sighed and told Grace that she’d always enjoyed being spanked as a child. Grace had just stared at her, laughing, while Hope obliviously rattled on about how she’d like to do it again some time. Grace offered to do it then and there, never mind that they were in a Waffle House at the time – no, giggled Hope, it would have to be a real punishment. She’d have to do something wrong. And, as she hadn’t, no spanking came. But Grace squirrelled that admission away in her mind.

Months passed.

Hope had made the quite significant choice to come back to Britain to stay with Grace’s family over Christmas and the New Year; they’d spend a few days at Grace’s house in Lincoln, then go with her friends from university to London to watch the fireworks and get appallingly drunk, and then return to Lincoln. Grace wasn’t sure what they’d actually do with all that time in a place as grindingly dull (her words) as Lincoln but, if Hope’s past visit was anything to go by, they’d mostly lay in bed watching TV and talking. That was all either really dreamed of. Each other – that was enough.

On the morning of Christmas Eve, the fields outside a carpet of white snow, Grace woke with Hope in her arms. Her girlfriend still snoring, Grace tried not to move even though her arm was growing numb, savouring Hope’s warmth and how she pressed her plump butt against Grace’s groin. Hope wore pale blue pyjamas but they were thin enough that her softness was easy to enjoy – Grace wore a vest and white underwear but, for now, Hope wasn’t even ready to go that far. Grace wondered if that day would ever come but she did all she could to avoid becoming one of those angsty partners who thought themselves owed their partner’s body. That was one thing she never wanted to become.

Eventually, Hope woke – after spending a bit of time talking through an odd dream she had about snowploughs, they showered, dressed (Grace in a hoodie and jeans and Hope, thinking the occasion was worth more effort, in a black knee-length dress dotted with pink and purple flowers), and went downstairs for breakfast with Grace’s family. What followed was a pretty conventional day – they walked the dogs with Grace’s mother, who was almost as in love with Hope as Grace herself was, before going into town to get coffee and finish buying gifts. More than once, when Hope was walking ahead of Grace, she would look at her girlfriend’s bubbly rear and almost feel a longing to reach out and smack it. She didn’t, of course, but the urge was becoming everpresent.

That evening, sat together in the lounge, drinks were soon opened and Uno was played and a silly romantic Christmas comedy was watched – Hope, perfectly in character even had she not had too much red wine, teared up at it. At one point in the film a female character was seen escaping her lover’s bedroom by climbing out of the window and, in nothing but her underwear, sprinting across a snowy garden and down the street.
“Hey,” said Hope, suddenly, patting Grace on the thigh. “That’s like what happened to you!”
“What?” asked Grace – and both of her parents. Hope grinned and dread built up inside Grace.

“Grace told me that happened to her one time,” she said, almost gleefully. Grace glared at her – Hope was ignoring all the very hard ‘stop it right now’ pinches she was applying to her leg.
“Wait, so…” Grace’s dad looked back at the screen. “When was this?”
“Never,” snapped Grace – she was as bad a liar as they came.
“Yeah it did,” teased Hope. “When you were at uni – you said. She hooked up with some guy and then his girlfriend showed up so she had to run naked out of the dorm and get dressed in the car park.”
“Are you kidding me?” laughed Grace’s mum. “Grace! I raised you better than that!”
“You didn’t – but I did!” her dad laughed, as Grace’s face turned red as a strawberry.
“Someone had an eventful time at uni,” sniggered mum.
“There’s a LOT of stories,” prodded Hope, over the giggles. “A lot.” The trio teased her for a good five minutes and, every now and then, someone would bring it up out of nowhere to provoke another round of laughter. Grace, meanwhile, silently fumed with embarrassment – but also excitement. She had her excuse.

With the film over and a lot of wine having been consumed – Grace was finding the room more than a little spinny – her parents put the dogs to bed while Grace and Hope wandered upstairs with the intent of maybe sleeping or maybe finishing a couple episodes of Doctor Who. Or, rather, that was Hope’s intent.

With the door closed and Hope stumbling to retrieve Grace’s laptop from the desk, Grace leaned back against the door with her arms crossed and her heart thundering. This was going to be a big risk. She bit the side of her cheek to keep herself from giggling.
“I bet you think that was really funny, don’t you?” she asked. Hope turned and looked at her with big, brown eyes.
“Huh?”
“Don’t ‘huh’ me, you know what you did.”
“Oh.” Hope smiled. “Yeah. Well, I just assumed you’d told them.”
“Why would I ever tell them something like that?”
“I dunno.” She shrugged. “Does it matter?”
“Well, a little bit, yeah. You embarrassed me.”
“It’s not that bad – come on.” Hope was ungainly on her feet – she put her hand against the wall to steady herself.
“I disagree.”
“Disagree all you want. See if I care. Are we watching Doctor Who or not?”
“I think…” Grace took a couple of steps forward and Hope’s expression shifted to something more nervous. “...you need to take this a bit more seriously.”
“Okay, fine,” sighed Hope, taking hold of Grace’s hips. “I’ll run naked down the street to make it up to you. Better?”
“Or you could apologise.”
“I’ve got nothing to apologise for.” She stuck out her tongue. “I’ll apologise when I’m sorry. And I’m not sorry – cause it was funny.”
“I see.” Grace fixed Hope with a dark look. Hope just grinned back – until Grace took hold of her wrist. “Well then, I guess I’ll just have to punish you.”
“What’re you talking-” Hope would have finished the sentence had she not instead squealed with surprise as Grace yanked her towards the bed. She followed, involuntarily, as Grace sat.
“Wait, wait, wait,” protested Hope, as she was pulled over Grace’s lap. “You can’t be serious.”
“Don’t I look serious?” Grace asked, as she held Hope tightly by the hip, keeping her pinned against Grace’s body even as she vainly (but, Grace noticed, not that energetically) struggled, her skirt flapping at her knees.
“Oh my God, are you really gonna spank me over this? I can’t believe you!”
“You better shut up unless you want everyone to know,” Grace hissed, excitement fizzing between her legs as Hope lay helpless across her, a bit heavy but not so much that it became uncomfortable, her curled hair pouring over her face like a black waterfall and her hands reaching for the floor to steady herself. This Grace took to indicate, on some level, cooperation.

For a moment, Grace wasn’t quite sure how to get started. She just stared at her girlfriend, restrained and perhaps just as drunkenly excited as her, her plump bottom inviting even when still covered by the dress. Tentatively, Grace rested a hand on a firm cheek and Hope mewled some vague, hopefully fake, protest. This, alone, was something of a landmark – Grace could count on her hands the number of times she’d been daring enough to touch Hope’s rear and she remembered each one. From the first time – when, on their very first day together, she’d slapped Hope’s bum when she bent down to pick up a dropped bus ticket and her girlfriend’s startled expression told her not to do it again – to the last – when, while making out in bed a few nights ago, she’d held her rear with both hands, inviting all kinds of approving purrs, but went no further lest she frighten Hope. Each was saved in Grace’s mind for next time she played with herself. She was definitely more of a butt person, she thought.
“You embarrassed me tonight,” Grace whispered, improvising the master-slave talk as best as she could from the erotica she read far too often, “so now you have to be punished, don’t you?”
“I guess,” mumbled Hope, her butt already feeling tense under Grace’s hand. Then she asked, hopefully: “Just not too hard?”
“I think I’ll decide that,” said Grace, before lifting her hand away and bringing it back down, light enough to be merciful, on Hope’s rear.

Hope flinched and let out the tiniest of yelps as Grace’s flat palm met her bottom, her skirt’s fabric bouncing up, and Grace bit her lip as she sent several more strikes, each just a little harder than the next, gauging Hope’s reaction. All Hope did was murmur indistinct noises, her eyes slammed shut, occasionally moving her hand to her face to push her glasses back into position – Grace wanted to snigger ever time she saw that but tried to keep the vibe authoritative.
“This is what happens to bad little girls,” Grace whispered, delivering another smack to one of Hope’s cheeks. This must have gone over a line because, then, Hope reached back and gingerly rubbed at the cheek.
“Doesn’t hurt,” she muttered, nonetheless.
“Oh, well if you wanna play it like that…” Grace smiled and, then, took the hem of Hope’s skirt.
“Wait!” Hope protested, looking over her shoulder with big eyes, and Grace paused.
“What is it?” she asked, impatiently.
“You can’t lift up my dress!”
“But it’s a punishment,” said Grace, smoothly. “It’s not meant to be comfortable.”
“I know, but…” She closed her eyes and looked away, back to the floor. “Oh, okay, just…”
“Good girl.” Grace rubbed Hope’s bottom reassuringly and, with fireworks going off in her tummy, took her dress’ hem once more. This time she lifted up, over Hope’s rear, and laid it out over her back. Hope’s plump bottom was, more or less, safely hidden behind pale pink underwear, and Grace couldn’t help but stare for a moment.

Once Grace was done with her staring, almost overcome with excitement that she finally had her girlfriend over her lap like this, she went back to the spanking.

Each smack, alternating from one cheek to the other, inviting a soft yelp from Hope, as if she was surprised every time. From under her panties, Grace could see the faintest of pink marks forming on her skin, while Hope’s bottom stayed tense and firm as she took her punishment.
“Ow,” she hissed at one point her sock-clad feet starting to kick, just a little bit.
“It’s not nice, is it?” teased Grace.
“No,” Hope whimpered. But Grace wanted more of a reaction than that – she picked up the pace and the force, though conscious of not making too much noise, striking Hope’s bottom with firm, confident whacks. Each one brought a little clapping sound when they connected and, too, a growing whimpering from Hope, who gritted her teeth and tried to ride it out. Grace knew she didn’t want to submit so humiliatingly by whining like a little girl – but, one way or another, Grace would get it out of her.

After perhaps twenty or thirty smacks, Grace paused, stroking Hope’s pretty bottom again while her girlfriend again mewled little protests.
“That really stings,” she complained, looking back at Grace again, her eyes carrying more than a little pleading.
“I know,” Grace replied, enjoying the feeling of Hope’s panties under her hand, how they clung to her sore bottom, and how at her mercy this cute girl was. The excitement between her legs only grew stronger – it would take a lot of effort not to start rubbing her thighs together as she worked on Hope.
“Are you done?”
“Hmm…” Grace studied Hope for a moment as if she didn’t already know the answer. Then, just to surprise her, she threw another THWACK onto Hope’s bottom and her girlfriend squealed in pain and outrage. “I don’t think so.”
“Okay,” Hope whimpered, looking away again. “But this is really embarrassing.”
“That’s what you deserve,” muttered Grace, as she slipped her fingers beneath the waistband of Hope’s tight panties. She had expected protests, even resistance, but Hope just lay there and didn’t make a sound as her underwear came down to expose her bare bottom, plump and soft and just as pretty as Grace had always hoped it would be. She navigated her underwear down to her knees, then ran her hand up her bare brown thigh and along her bare bottom. Without a word, but a cautious glance towards her bedroom door, she began spanking again.

Hope was whimpering again from the first strike, now twisting about a little on Grace’s lap, as she slapped the girl’s bare rear with enough force to make her feet kick. She watched, almost transfixed, at Hope’s bottom bouncing under her hand and being painted pinker and pinker to match the panties which, by now, had slipped off her knees and were falling to cuff her ankles together.
“Ow… ow…” Hope whined, starting to struggle, and with her free hand Grace again took her by the hip to keep her restrained. Her own hand starting to sting quite painfully, Grace kept going, trying to commit to memory every second of this wonderful moment. She loved Hope’s butt – so tight, so cute, so firm. Looking to alternate things, she paused and, enjoying the sound of Hope’s sniffling, with one hand spread open one of her cheeks.
“What’re you doing?!”
“I told you – punishing you.” She aimed a few smacks at the inside of Hope’s cheek, the sensitive skin turning pink almost immediately, admiring how spreading her like this exposed not just her cute little asshole but her slick shaved girlhood. Grace had never seen any of that before and she delighted in it.
“It really hurts,” Hope whimpered.
“I know it does,” said Grace with a smile, still staring at what Hope had hidden between her legs.
“My mom never spanked me on the bare,” Hope then said, as if it would make a difference.
“Well, get used to it,” Grace replied, squeezing Hope’s cheek – her girlfriend whined in pain as the nails dug into her skin. “Because I like your ass and if I want to spank it, then I will.”
“Oh…” whined Hope in surrender. “Can you see my…” She trailed off.
“Your pussy?” asked Grace. “Yeah, I can. And your little arsehole, too. They’re both so cute.”
“No,” whimpered Hope. “That’s private. Nobody’s meant to see!”
“I’ll do whatever I want,” said Grace, letting go of Hope and returning to spanking her, causing her girlfriend to yelp – at the first, she clasped her hands to her mouth to muffle it. Her underwear, Grace saw, had now come off one ankle and dangled off the other. “You belong to me.”

Grace kept going, kept alternating, not letting up even as she felt Hope sobbing into her hands and her feet kicked almost furiously.
“Alright, alright, I’m sorry!” Hope finally wailed – but Grace ignored her apologies.
“If you can’t keep quiet,” Grace hissed, her hand pulsating with pain, “I’ll make you be quiet.”
“What?” whimpered Hope, and Grace reached towards her feet to retrieve her underwear. She pulled it off her foot, gathered in her hands, and formed it into a ball.
“Look at me.” Hope did – she’d lost her glasses and her face was flushed with her cheeks stained by tears. “Now open your mouth.”
“But…” Hope stared at what Grace held in her hands. “But that’s not fair… you can’t…”
“Do as I say.” Humiliation across her face, Hope opened her mouth and Grace stuffed her panties inside, gagging her. Hope moaned with embarrassment before, her panties still dangling from her mouth, looking away again and back to the floor.

Grace picked up where she left off, spanking one cheek and then the other, with Hope’s muffled whines the soundtrack. After just a few more, Hope was no longer yelping – just quietly sobbing and laying still, taking her punishment like a good girl, her bare bottom pink and warm to the touch. Mercy, eventually, took over, and Grace stopped.
“Okay,” she said, quietly. “I think you’ve learned your lesson.” She reached for Hope’s face and pulled out her gag – Hope spluttered and cried openly, sobbing like a child, and Grace stroked her hair and bare bottom to help her calm down.
“I’m sorry,” she whimpered through her tears. “I’ll be good from now on.”
“I hope so,” said Grace, softly. “Otherwise it’ll just be more of this.”
“Yeah.” Hope nodded energetically.
“Come on – get up.” She patted Hope’s bottom and, slowly, her girlfriend pushed herself up and to her feet, her dress falling back into place.

There followed silence before, suddenly, Hope turned and vanished from the room – Grace had the tiniest moment of panic before she heard the bathroom door close and the sound of the taps. Hope must have been washing her face. Given a moment to breathe, Grace fell backwards onto the bed and stared at the ceiling, the images of the last five-or-so minutes on repeat in her head.

When Hope returned, with a freshly washed face, Grace regarded her with some nervousness.
“You okay?” she asked, standing up slowly. Hope replied by almost launching herself at Grace and gripping her in a hug.
“I love you so much,” she whimpered into Grace’s shoulder, still a bit tearful, and Grace held her too.
“I love you too,” she assured her. “It wasn’t too much?”
“It was a bit scary,” Hope admitted. “But I really liked it. It was so fun. It’s exactly what I’ve fantasised about.”
“Well,” said Grace, pulling away so they could look each other in the eye. “No reason why it has to be the last time.”
“No,” said Hope with a shy smile, “guess not.”
“Hey,” whispered Grace.
“Yeah?”
“Merry Christmas.” Hope laughed.
“Merry Christmas, Grace.”

...

Like it? That's funny, because I actually have a whole-ass book out now full of F/F spanking stories. It's called And All Things Nice: An Anthology of Very Horny Stories - and it's fourteen short stories of sapphic sex and kink which I am very, very proud of. I hope you take a look!

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CJQK4ZJQ

- K.A. Ryde