This story is about a spanking that took place in a large clothing store in a mall near where I live. I have decided not to mention the name of the store to protect those who helped make this happen.
It was mid-afternoon when Chelsea and I arrived at the mall. We were planning to walk around and chat about her life and the projects I was working on. Chelsea is a bright young woman, nineteen years old, currently attending community college and trying to figure out her future. I met Chelsea through a popular online dating site, but we are just friends. Occasionally, when her life gets hectic or she makes a series of poor choices, we meet so I can give her a sound spanking.
While we were chatting in the food court, she mentioned she had been feeling a bit depressed. She tried to fix it with a shopping spree, but ended up spending about three hundred dollars she didn’t have. Chelsea had used a credit card meant only for emergencies and told her parents she had a car emergency to get them to wire her the money. When I asked how she planned to pay it off, she admitted the truth.
If looks could kill, the glare I gave her would have melted her on the spot. I quickly let her know how irresponsible and immature that was. Instead of spending all the money, she should have called friends, a student counselor, or even me. She also lied to her parents who trusted her. As my lecture sank in, Chelsea began to look more ashamed. I asked her which store she did the bulk of her shopping in. She gave me the name, which happened to be in this very mall.
I knew a floor manager at that store, so I called to see if she was working. Chelsea began to look very nervous, fidgeting with her napkin. I found out that Bridget was indeed working and she had a private area we could use because part of the store’s women’s department was being remodeled and the workers were only in at night. The dressing rooms were still intact.
After ending the call, Chelsea and I walked to the department store. We were greeted by Bridget, who had a knowing look in her eye. She escorted us to the dressing rooms, away from the hustle and bustle of customers. Once inside, I seated myself on the bench across from the mirror and looked up at Chelsea.
“Do you know what I am about to do to you, young lady?”
She nodded, averting her eyes towards the floor.
“Well then, we had better get this taken care of right now. Unzip your jeans and take them down.”
She hesitated before her hands found their way to the buttons of her jeans. It would be a lie to say I didn’t enjoy the sight of her jeans making their way down her slender legs, revealing her deliciously round bottom. Chelsea really has one of those asses that you’re not sure if you want to spank or take a bite out of. She stood frozen in front of me, her jeans in a pile on the floor. Her white cotton boy shorts gave a teasing glance of her peach-colored cheeks. I undid my right cufflink and rolled up my sleeve.
Her face flushed with embarrassment. I wasted no time and guided her over my lap. I saw goosebumps rise on her legs and ass.
“Are you cold?”
She nodded again, her voice still lost.
“Well, I will warm you up then.”
I brought my hand down hard on the center of her ass, her soft cheeks recoiling under my hand. She clenched her cheeks. I repeated the blow on her left then right cheek, settling into a rhythm of left cheek, right cheek, center. She began to squirm and let out soft little ouches and ows. I grew tired of her stoicism and slid my fingers into the waistband of her panties, taking them down below her ass.
I was pleased with myself. Her ass was a uniform red, not an angry red but more of a warm crimson shade. She and I both knew this was just the start of her discipline. She breathed in sharply, glancing back at me with tears forming in her eyes. I began to bring my hand down again, finding the same rhythm as before. She began to scissor her legs frantically, giving me a pleasurable view of her glistening womanhood. I reminded myself there was no time for pleasure in this; she must be taught a lesson.
Chelsea began to cry out in anguish, tears flowing down her face. I stopped her spanking and slowly began to rub her bottom. Moments later, I let her up and gave her a stern look in the eye.
“I don’t ever want to hear that you have been taking part in this sort of behavior again. You humiliate yourself and those who trust you.”
She nodded, sniffling. I wrapped her up in a hug, holding her for a few more moments. I then helped her get dressed and gather her composure. We walked out to a waiting Bridget, who smiled gently at Chelsea and showed her to the ladies’ room. While Chelsea cleaned up, Bridget began to tell me about her lack of play and discipline lately.
I would go into more detail here, but that is a story for another time.
