Bare Bottom Spanking Stories
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Bare Bottom Spanking Stories
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Growing up, most of my spankings were given over my underwear. However, my dad didn’t shy away from spanking my bare butt every now and then.
One of the last bare bottom spankings he gave me happened when I was 12 years old. By that age, I was scared to death of my friends finding out that I still got spankings, and the idea that my dad would still consider administering one with my panties down was a complete nightmare to me – this was actually something I thought I had outgrown by then.
The night prior to this particular spanking, my mom had caught me in a lie and to top it off, even after she presented the evidence to me I still clung onto the lie, in the stupid hope that if I didn’t admit it, I might still come away unscathed.
That night, my mom tucked me into bed, and she was still very upset with me. “You can expect a sound spanking in the morning from your father,” were her last words before she switched off the bedroom light. I knew she wasn’t joking – tomorrow was a Sunday morning, Dad would be home and he would have plenty of time to discipline his errant daughter.
The next morning, there were butterflies in my stomach as I got up, dressed and went downstairs for breakfast. Dad soon joined Mom and I at the table, and he looked me straight in the eye.
“Kelsey, your mom told me what happened yesterday. Can you tell me why you kept lying, even though you were caught out fair and square?”
I mumbled back some lame excuse which didn’t impress him at all. He said bluntly: “What you need is a sore bottom, and you can come right upstairs with me to have it, just as soon as breakfast is over.” After that, I didn’t have much of an appetite and before I knew it, Mom was clearing away the dishes.
Dad rose from the table. “Right, Kelsey, let’s go upstairs and teach your bottom a lesson.” I reluctantly stood and he shepherded me up the stairs to my bedroom. Of course, I was scared but I thought I knew the drill – I would have to take my pants down, then expect several stinging slaps to my underwear-covered bottom.
When we got to my room, Dad gave me a brief but on-point scolding about lying to my parents. “Right, let’s get this over with, Kelsey,” he said. “Pull your lower clothes down and bend over the bed. This is going to hurt you very much indeed.” I obediently unbutton and unzipped my pants, easing them down to my knees, then bent over the bed. Then, to my horror, Dad said firmly: “Panties too, Kelsey.”
“No, Dad – please! Why does it have to be on the bare?” “Because I said so, to make sure you feel this properly and to make sure you listen to your parents in future. I reluctantly, slowly pulled down my panties and began to cry. “This is so embarrassing!” I gulped. “It’s only you and I here,” Dad replied, “and I’ve seen everything you’ve got down there. Remember, I’ve changed your diaper plenty of times!”
Well, of course, this was true but things are somewhat different by the time you’re 12. The fact that by bending over, I was showing Dad not only my bottom but also my genitals was really humiliating.
I bent back over the bed, grabbing a fistful of my bedspread with each hand, and waited for the first smack. Dad’s spankings always followed a pattern – two smacks to the lower part of my butt, one on each side and then two elsewhere on my backside, on both sides. This pattern was then repeated until my father decided I had learned my lesson.
After this, he would pause and then say something like: “Four more very hard ones, and we’re done.” I would close my tearful eyes tightly, steeling myself for four more super-hard spanks on my already sore behind. Don’t get me wrong – Dad was a serious spanker and all the swats beforehand stung, but these last ones always hurt so much that I would cry out involuntarily after receiving each one. This time was no exception.
Dad finally let me stand up, gave me a brief hug and left me to sort myself out. I was a mass of emotions and feelings. I was a bit angry at Dad for having done me bare-bottomed, and of course my butt hurt and stung incredibly. The spanking had also left me exhausted.
After Dad had gone, I didn’t even bother pulling my clothes up for quite some time – instead, I just flung myself face down on my bed, crying into my pillow and the cool morning air playing around my bare legs and bottom.
All Maman stories are copyright, unauthorised reproduction may lead to legal action.
Maman is an adult website containing recollections of corporal punishment experienced during the contributors' childhoods. By proceeding, you are asserting that you are over the age of majority for the country in which you reside, and you further agree to the use of cookies on this website. Note that although this website contains only legal content, Maman is nevertheless a fetish site and should be considered Not Safe For Work (NSFW). Maman does not advocate corporal punishment for today's children. If you are a minor or likely to be upset by the subject matter, please do not proceed any further.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1 (v.1) - Prelude To a Spanking
Chapter 2 (v.1) - A Humiliating, Unexpected Stripping
Chapter 3 (v.1) - The Spanking and Aftermath
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Genre: General Erotica |
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Miss Davenport wrote the words “NICKY BALDINI'S PUNISHMENT” on the blackboard, underlined it, then turned and
faced the cowering sixteen-year-old.
“Miss Baldini, when was the last time you were administered a good spanking?”
Nicky Baldini squirmed nervously in her seat. She blushed slightly while her fellow classmates giggled with amusement.
“I-I don’t know, Miss Davenport. P-Please, I’m sorry…”
“It’s much too late for ‘sorry,’ I’m afraid,” interrupted Miss Davenport. “You embarrassed a member of your class and now you shall be embarrassed in turn. Nothing like an old-fashioned,
over-the-knee spanking to cure little girls of their naughty behavior.”
Nicky Baldini’s transgression had occurred just a few minutes before. It was in the courtyard during the morning recess when she whispered to one of her few friends, “Watch this. You’re about to
see something you’ve never seen before.”
Pammy Gardinstock was a few feet away with several of her friends. At the time she was leaning over to tie her
shoes. Nicky slithered up behind her, and to the astonishment of all witnesses, she lifted up the back of Pammy’s blouse with a pair of scissors in hand.
“Pammy, look out!” screamed someone in her group.
But it was too late, as before Pammy could defend herself, Nicky had snipped her bra strap clear through. Nicky
turned and shared a grin with her friend.
Why did Nicky carry out this most unusual act? Because she was a bully, and because she could. She particularly enjoyed picking on Pammy Gardinstock, since she was always too timid to fight
back.
But unfortunately for Nicky, she had taken it a step too far this time. As fate would have it, Miss Davenport just happened to be looking out her window as Nicky was performing the dirty
deed.
She raced outside to rescue the besieged Pammy Gardinstock. She put an arm around her and began whisking her
away.
“Come, let’s get you a sweater to put on over your blouse,” she said.
She stopped momentarily to address Nicky, who was looking the other way, feigning innocence.
“As for you, Miss Baldini, I’ll deal with you appropriately after recess.”
As Miss Davenport and Pammy Gardinstock disappeared indoors, all eyes turned to Nicky Baldini, whose demeanor
had suddenly changed from celebratory to apprehensive. Her apprehensiveness would prove to be well founded.
* * * * *
Nicky sat anxiously while contemplating the possibility of an over-the-knee spanking at the hands of Miss Davenport. Her anxiety was about to be considerably exacerbated. Her teacher was in the
process of adding four words just below her previous entry on the blackboard: “A BARE-BOTTOMED SPANKING.” As she set the chalk down on the ledge and faced the class, she was barely able to curtail
her smile. Twenty-seven girls did not bother curtailing theirs. The twenty-eighth girl was not smiling, and her now bright red face betrayed her considerable discomfiture.
“Miss…Miss Davenport, please,” Nicky pleaded. “I’m…I’m much too old for that….that sort of thing. I promise I’ll…I’ll be a good g…I mean, I promise I’ll be good.”
The giggling persisted, and it was not lost on Nicky that she sounded like a little girl after a scolding. But
her attempt at damage control would be fruitless, as Miss Davenport now was fully resolved to carry out the embarrassing punishment. She simply turned without answering and added to her script on
the blackboard. When she finished, it looked like this:
Nicky knew at that point that there would be no way to talk her teacher out of the punishment. She looked up at
the clock (collectively with all of her fellow students) and noted that it was only 10:30. She would have three and one half hours to mull over her impending humiliation.
The waiting and extreme sense of dread would prove to be almost as excruciating as the punishment itself.
Of course, this was not lost on Miss Davenport. When she decided to implement the shame punishment on Nicky Baldini her first inclination was to carry it out right on the spot. But as she was
writing on the blackboard, she considered that to postpone it until the afternoon would certainly add to her subject’s apprehension. Plus, it would open up the opportunity for her to be teased by
the other students, especially during the lunch hour. Also, the three and one half hour buildup would add flavor to the whole experience. Yes, she thought, she would turn it into an event, and
teach the young lady a lesson she’d never forget.
* * * * *
The atmosphere throughout the tenth grade classroom in Emma Winslow’s Boarding School for Girls changed considerably at 10:30 that morning. With less than two weeks remaining before the end of the
school year, most of the students were looking ahead towards the summer break. The daily grind of the school days had become rather humdrum. But the anticipation of Nicky Baldini’s humiliation had
certainly rekindled their enthusiasm.
There were two reasons for Nicky’s classmates’ delight in her upcoming dishonor. For one, it is widely believed that it is human nature to take pleasure in another’s misfortunes, or in this case,
another’s humiliation. There is no better word to describe this phenomenon than the German word “schadenfreude.”
Second, the girls derived considerable glee in the fact that the victim would be none other than Nicky Baldini.
You see, Nicky, though very popular in her little clique (comprised of two or three of her fellow snobs), her supercilious, arrogant attitude and occasional penchant for bullying helped gain her
quite a few enemies. Truth be told, most of her classmates were reveling in the expectation of Nicky Baldini getting her comeuppance.
The hour and a half before lunch moved painfully slowly for Nicky, who at that point was resigned to her dreadful fate and just wanted to be done with it. The text on the board seemed to scream out
at her. She looked up at the words “bare-bottomed spanking” for the umpteenth time and cringed. She conjured up the image of herself laid out over Miss Davenport’s lap with her skirt hiked up and
her panties pulled down to her thighs. She felt the heat of her face flushing at the prospect.
It was a few minutes before lunch when Miss Davenport excused herself and left the classroom. She returned shortly and, to the curiosity of the students, carried with her a large piece of white,
high-grade art paper. She laid it on her desk, and with a thick black marker began writing on the paper. When she finished, she laid the paper over the top portion of her yardstick and fastened it
securely with tape, which apparently was the finishing touch of a makeshift sign. Without a word she held up the sign and displayed it for her students, an action that elicited a chorus of giggles,
and caused Nicky Baldini to flinch and blush noticeably. The sign read:
ASK ME ABOUT MY BARE-BOTTOMED SPANKING
“Could you please come up here, Miss Baldini?” asked Miss Davenport when the giggling subsided.
The beleaguered Nicky timidly approached her teacher while her amused classmates keenly looked on.
“I’d like you to keep this with you during the lunch hour,” directed the teacher while handing it off to the
chagrined student. “I think it might be nice to share your upcoming experience with the rest of the student body.”
She paused, and the speechless girl stared dismally at the sign.
“I’ll give you fifteen minutes to eat your lunch, during which time you may set your sign down. But for the
remaining forty-five minutes you are to parade up and down the cafeteria and the courtyard while holding the sign straight out in front of you.”
Nicky’s jaw had dropped, and Miss Davenport wasn’t even finished.
“Further, if anyone asks you about your bare-bottomed spanking—and I suspect you will have that question posed
to you quite a few times—your response will be, ‘I have been a naughty little girl, and at 2:00 today Miss Davenport will be taking me over her knee and spanking my bare bottom in front of the
whole class.’”
While her classmates’ giggles accelerated to laughter, Nicky Baldini held back her tears and stared
downwards.
“Good. Now, let’s review. Tell us what will your response be when you are asked about your bare-bottomed
spanking.”
After a moment of silence, Miss Davenport pressed on.
Nicky knew full well that her teacher would not loosen the figurative noose until she complied.
“I have been a naughty girl…I mean a naughty little girl…”
Giggles were abounding, as Nicky blushed brighter.
“...And at 2:00…at 2:00 today Miss Davenport will put me over her knee and spank…my bare bottom.”
“Aren’t you forgetting something, Nicky?” asked Miss Davenport.
Nicky looked perplexed, so her teacher prodded her.
“In front of…?” she said while motioning with an open hand towards the students.
“In front of the whole class,” she answered quietly.
“Not bad, Nicky. Not bad. But it looks like you might need someone to help you along. Class, may I have a volunteer to escort Nicky throughout the lunch hour to ensure that she remembers all the
words?”
Not surprisingly, several hands shot up in the air. One of them belonged to Pammy Gardinstock, making Miss
Davenport’s decision an easy one.
“Pamela, you’ll be shadowing Miss Baldini over the next hour. I’d appreciate it if you’d make sure she has a
chance to visit with as many of the girls as possible. If she gives you any trouble, or if she doesn’t answer the question about her bare-bottomed spanking properly, be sure to let me know. We can
always arrange for her to stay after school for some extra bare-bottomed discipline if we find it necessary.”
“Yes, Miss Davenport,” replied the grinning Pammy. “I’ll make sure Nicky behaves like a good little girl.
“Very well, then. Off to lunch now, class.”
As the energized students filed out of the classroom, Pammy Gardinstock sidled up to Nicky Baldini in the hallway.
“I’m really looking forward to bonding with you during the lunch hour, Nicky,” she giggled.
Nicky wanted to whack her with the stupid sign she was carrying.
“I’ll get you back for this, Gardinstock,” she warned.
“Well, whatever you have in mind can’t be nearly as delicious as watching you laid out over Miss Davenport’s lap with your big naked ass on display for everyone.”
“The snobby bitch is finally getting her just desserts,” she said merrily as they entered the cafeteria.
Suffice to say, Nicky had quite the miserable lunch hour. She sat nervously, nibbling at her sandwich but unable to eat even half of it.
After exactly fifteen minutes, Pammy Gardinstock rousted her from her seat and began parading her throughout the
cafeteria and the court
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