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Author: LolaLane
Title: Bad Girls
The shrill, plaintive howls echoed down the hallway, reaching a wounded
crescendo in the pitches of the cathedral steeple. A passing nun crossed
herself and offered words to the Heavenly Father on behalf of the cries.
Two giggling teens in plaid jumpers shuddered and hurried out of the
building, not wanting to be caught by Mother Superior and given a dose
of the same. “Mary Therese,” they could hear her firm voice scolding,
“Our Lord can see you every minute of the day. You can not hide from
Him. You are a wicked, wicked girl.” The girl was wicked indeed and she
grinned inwardly, bending deeper over the large, bare desk that had been
lacquered so many times that the grain had disappeared entirely. She
pressed her wet cheek against its cold, smooth surface and gripped the
edge harder, waiting for the woman with her spitefully thick paddle. “In
the confessional, no less,” Mother Superior continued, striking the
flat, punishing wood soundly against the girl’s plum cheeks. Mary
Therese gasped and yelped again, the butterflies in her stomach
plummeting down to her naughty parts and tickling her more cruelly. She
whined and rubbed the top of her foot against the back of her knee sock,
gritting her teeth. “That is a revered, sacred place, Mary Therese,”
Mother Superior added, bringing the paddle back again. “Yes, Sister,”
the girl nodded, returning her feet to the floor. “It is not a place for
you to sneak away to, to…,”she was at a loss for words and slapped the
paddle down firmly on the extraordinarily punished cheeks, extracting
new moans and pained bouncing, “To DEFILE yourself!” Mary Therese
wailed, again… When Leslie walked into the room, it was dark with only
the blue light from the computer illuminating the girl in front of the
desk. She was sitting on the hardback chair in her blue sorority hoodie
and a short, flowing white skirt. Her legs were spread wide and she was
reading eagerly. Her fingers worked feverishly over both the mouse and
her soft, damp folds. She was bucking rhythmically against her hand and
unfolding her legs farther. Murmuring quietly, she petted herself with
fanatic abandon. Leslie shut the door silently and approached her
roommate, setting her purse down and reading over her shoulder. Her eyes
grew wider and she clamped her long fingers over the mouse, locking the
girl’s hand in place. “Noelle!” she gasped, making the girl jump and
smack her pony-tailed head into Leslie’s chin. Leslie stood up cradling
her jaw and Noelle rubbed the back of head, groaning. “Uh, Leslie,” she
started, desperately trying to close the window and dispose of the
evidence, “I had no idea how late—” “Oh, no way,” Leslie declared,
pushing Noelle out of the way and reading more. Noelle was neither
stronger nor longer; she wrung her hands in embarrassment, and went to
hide in the bathroom. “Leslie,” she called from behind the door, “I
swear it was just up and I was peeking….” “Sure, Noelle,” her roommate
called back, “And you just happened to start playing with yourself, you
slutty slut?” Noelle peeked her head out, wincing with humiliation.
Leslie was grinning, one eyebrow raised in superiority and willowy arms
crossed over her slender frame. She was a Dance major and had just come
home from ballet, sweaty and exhausted, but this might be the chance she
had always wanted to mess with her lately uptight, perma-anxious friend.
Finals were fast approaching and they could both use the stress
reliever. Leslie turned and headed toward their bedroom and plunked down
on her bed, pulling up one long leg and removing her slip-on Vans.
Noelle followed her, eyeing her uncertainly. She folded her small frame
onto the opposite bed and played with her fingers, watching Leslie throw
off the matching sorority sweater and strip of her leotard. “Les,”
Noelle began, her voice shaking as much as her hands, “You won’t tell
Chad, right?” Leslie thought about this and smiled, peeling the tights
from her graceful legs. She grinned, selected some clothing from her
bureau, and strode over to the bathroom, her bra covering small, firm
breasts and her panties twisted at the hip. She left the door open as
she ran the water in the shower. Noelle followed her to the door jam and
watched her take her long, dark hair from the topknot and brush it
thoroughly, as she did every night. “Leslie,” Noelle repeated, anxiously
as her roommate unhooked her bra and tested the water. Leslie turned and
looked Noelle over. She was a small girl, petite really with gorgeous
curves and a deep tan. She had that cute look to a tee, with the button
nose and perpetually puckered lips. Her top lip was bigger and the pout
on her face right now was irresistible. Leslie put on her best We’ll see
face, kicked off her panties and stepped into the shower. Noelle groaned
and paced outside the door, her high blonde ponytail slapping her neck
impatiently. She popped her head back in. “Leslie, you can’t tell him!
You’re my roommate, for Christ Sake!” she pleaded into the steamy room,
“He won’t understand. He’ll think I’m a weirdo.” Leslie snorted; she had
always thought that Chadwick Albert Frederick Wright Jr. generated far
too many anxieties in her generally light-hearted and bubbly friend.
Noelle knew about Leslie’s opinions. “I know, I know. But you have to
promise,” she begged, thumping her head against the door. Leslie laughed
and pulled the curtain aside, soap tumbling down her stretch of hair and
onto the bathmat. Her eyes were sparkling. “All right, all right,” she
giggled, flicking bubbles at Noelle, “Your secret’s safe with me—”
Noelle sighed bodily. “On one condition,” Leslie continued, beginning
her rinse. Noelle swallowed, apprehensively. “What condition?” she
asked, her lips dry and trembling. Leslie shrugged and began lacing
conditioner into her brown curls. “Take it or leave it,” she replied,
combing through her hair with her fingers. Noelle couldn’t think of
anything worse than having Chad know about what she had been doing. He
would definitely think she was a total pervert, she imagined,
remembering how standardized their sex life had become. She pulled her
ponytail, nervously and leaned back into the perfumed fog, nodding
quickly. “Okay, I agree,” Noelle whispered, as Leslie glanced over at
her from beneath the shower head. Leslie’s smile disappeared and she
turned the water off. She gave Noelle a cursory nod and wrapped herself
with a large, pink towel. “All right, Noelle,” she glanced at her
roommate, flipping her wet hair to the side and sponging it dry with
another pink towel, “You’ve been a bad girl. And now you’re asking me to
lie to someone you love.” Noelle whimpered and nearly protested, but
Leslie threw her a silencing scowl and continued, “You, my dear girl,
need to pay for this childish behavior. You need a good, old-fashioned
spanking and I’m going to give it to you.” Noelle’s jaw dropped. “That’s
right, my girl, so you can just head back out to the bedroom and strip
down to your underwear and wait for me. Not one word,” she began, seeing
that Noelle’s lips were about to form another objection, “You can do
this or I can tell Chadwick.” Noelle snapped her mouth shut, her eyes
wild. She shook her head furiously and turned around, tucking her small
fingers under her sweatshirt and lifting it over her head. Leslie
watched her go and grinned into the mirror, shaking her loose, damp
curls free. She toweled herself, listening to Noelle’s skirt hit the
hamper on the back of the door and the creak as she perched nervously at
the edge of the bed. Leslie pulled on her lacy, apple green panties and
matching camisole, and hung her towels, considering her bizarre
opportunity. She wished that she had a paddle like the nun in the story,
but she remembered the thick ruler that her old roommate, an
Architecture major, had left behind. She turned off the light and went
to rummage through her closet for it. Noelle followed every movement
with her big, honey brown eyes. When Leslie turned, holding the ample
ruler, Noelle’s pink cheeks paled significantly, and she began to
babble. “Now, w-wait, Les,” she squeaked, scooting back on the bed and
tucking her small knees up to her chin. Leslie glanced at her and
thwacked the ruler down on Noelle’s low bureau, making a sickeningly
loud sound. Noelle’s words evaporated and she gaped horrified. Leslie
put the ruler down and approached Noelle with more confidence than she
felt. Leslie had never spanked anyone before. As a girl, she had been on
the receiving end until she turned thirteen and her mother decided she
was too old. She could remember waiting for her father in her bedroom as
he mounted the stairs two at a time, with the same long frame that she
had. She had been pulled across his lap and given a sound hand spanking
over her panties until she cried—and he seemed to know which tears were
real and which tears were meant to prematurely end a spanking. And those
tears were punished further, when he would make her go get her hairbrush
so he could “give her something to really cry about.” Leslie motioned
for Noelle to stand, and she did, though reluctantly. Noelle crossed her
small arms over her large breasts that peeked decadently over her baby
pink bra; in her typically childish way, her boy shorts were stamped
with Strawberry Shortcake characters. Leslie sat on the bed, her feet
firmly planted on the ugly dorm carpet. She patted her lap. “Bend over,
Noelle,” she instructed, as Noelle hugged herself. Noelle looked from
Leslie to her lap and nodded, leaning forward and placing herself
delicately across Leslie’s legs and shivering slightly. Because Leslie
was so tall, Noelle’s fingers barely reached the ground and her ponytail
bounced helplessly against her face. Leslie’s breath caught as she
surveyed the two chubby cheeks sliding down into smooth, brown legs that
were already fidgeting anxiously. Leslie placed a hand on Noelle’s back
and skimmed a finger lightly down her vertebrae, hearing her friend sigh
quietly. Leslie traced the bottom edge of Noelle’s panties from her
outer hip to where it tucked into her crease. “Noelle?” she asked,
cupping her bottom cheek and giving it a light squeeze. “Mm hm?” came
the muffled reply. “Have you been spanked before?” she continued, firmly
stroking down Noelle’s thigh. “Yes,” she answered, “when I was a kid a
couple of times.” “Did you like it?” Leslie asked, pulling the blonde
ponytail away from Noelle’s face. Noelle glanced back, self-consciously.
“Not at first,” she admitted, hiding her face again, “but you know….”
Leslie nodded and let go of Noelle’s hair, “I want you to ask me for it,
Noelle. The right way. You know you deserve it and that you even want
it, so ask me for it.” Noelle became more fidgety, and could not even
think about the matter in which those words could ever escape her lips.
But the way that she was feeling right now, the way that Leslie was
making her thighs hum with her touching, and the way that she was
scrumptiously agitated at the idea of a thrashing made her not want it
to end, made her focus on the words. She cleared her throat nervously.
“L-Leslie, I am putting you in an awkward position asking you to keep
something from Chad, and I should have been more aware of the time and
our communal space. Please give me the spanking I deserve because I am a
bad girl.” Leslie nodded and raised her hand, smacking splayed fingers
over Noelle’s plump backside. The first slaps stung Leslie as much as
Noelle, but Leslie quickly cupped her hand and Noelle began to moan. It
didn’t take long until Noelle’s tan butt was warmed toast and Leslie had
to plant a palm on her back to keep her in place. “Ow, ow, ow,” Noelle
chanted, frowning. Leslie continued with the hand spanking, slapping her
harder and more erratically. She wanted Noelle’s backside to ache as
hers had done when her father punished her and decided that the panties
would have to come off. Noelle was not happy about this and rocked
fretfully when Leslie slipped a finger under her waistband and began to
tug. “Noelle,” Leslie chided, smacking her roughly on the thigh, “Bad
girls get spankings on their bare bottoms. You know that.” Noelle
whimpered and kicked her feet. Leslie pulled her up and yanked her to
the left of her lap, grabbing the edges of Noelle’s panties and tugging
them straight down. Noelle stomped her foot, and Leslie gave her a sharp
smack to her newly bare tush. Noelle gasped. Leslie hauled her back over
and began to assault her flushed cheeks a second time. Noelle was in
tears shortly, pleading for Leslie to stop. Leslie gave her one more
smack and then paused. Noelle was in pain, but Leslie was sure it was
the panic pain. She decided to wait it out and held Noelle in place,
gliding her hot hand over Noelle’s even hotter skin, and shushing her.
Noelle stopped crying quickly, when Leslie tucked her fingers between
Noelle’s parted thighs and grazed her delicate skin. Noelle relaxed and
purred as Leslie stroked two long, elegant fingers over her. She was
wet, like Leslie, and hungry for more. Leslie nodded to herself and
slapped Noelle hard on her inner thigh. Noelle yelped and jumped,
cursing her roommate. “Bad girl,” Leslie scolded, shaking her head, “Get
up now.” Noelle glanced back, confused but she stood obediently. “Go get
that ruler,” Leslie instructed, nodding toward the bureau. Noelle peeked
at the thick wooden strip and her lip trembled. She toddled over, her
bottom snuggly warm but not in any hurry for more punishment. Leslie
stood and crossed her arms, waiting but no longer patiently. “Bring it
here or your ten strokes can be twenty,” she warned in a hushed frown,
her dark hair hanging like a shadow around her shoulders. Noelle picked
it up quickly and felt it with her other hand. It was smooth but thick
and wide, more like a T-square in size than a ruler. Noelle wondered
where Leslie had gotten it. She took one final long, hateful look at it
and handed it to her roommate, who brought it immediately down on her
tender butt. Noelle shrieked. It was like nothing she had ever felt.
Granted, she was only familiar with her mother’s hand and once, her
father’s belt, but this had much less give. It punished her cheeks
unyieldingly and without caution. She rubbed her backside instantly, the
sting settling deeper than the surface smacks she had warmed up on.
Leslie shook her head, “You touch your ass again before I’m finished,
and I’m starting over. You have been warned. Do you understand?” “Yes,”
Noelle squeaked, dropping her hands to her sides. “Good, now bend over
and put your hands on the bed,” Leslie continued, pointing to the
mattress with the ruler. Noelle nodded and leaned over, her beautifully
golden back forming a perfect bow and ending in a burnt, red ribbon of
pain. She gulped. Leslie stood behind her and raised the ruler, striking
Noelle low. Noelle howled and bounced on her toes. She grabbed harder at
the quilted comforter and winced. Leslie could see the rectangular
pattern emerging on her roommate’s upper thighs. She raised the ruler
higher and brought it down on the crease between Noelle’s legs and
bottom. Noelle gasped and bucked. Leslie knew that Chad was going to
need some explaining after he saw her work. She smiled to herself and
stroked a firm palm over Noelle’s backside. Leslie slapped the ruler
down abruptly over Noelle’s meatiest spot three times in a row and
Noelle began crying pathetically. The ruler was going to bruise and this
made Leslie smile. She worked it over Noelle’s left side as viciously,
until Noelle was bent over and sobbing onto the blanket, begging her to
stop. “Two more, bad girl,” Leslie grinned, giving her a mean pinch to
one of the angry red welts. Noelle yelped and pounded her fists on the
bed, helplessly. “Three more, then,” Leslie said, shaking her head.
Noelle wailed and calmed her fists. “Get back into position for these,”
Leslie ordered, waiting for her to lean back up and place her palms flat
on the bed, “Good.” Leslie snapped the ruler twice over Noelle’s thighs,
less brutally than the previous few. Noelle cried and waited for the
last one. Leslie raised her arm high and brought it wickedly down on her
aching backside. Noelle howled and shook; she hopped from foot to foot
trying desperately not to touch her scorched backside now. Leslie laid
the ruler down, turned to her friend and nudged her onto the bed,
shoving her against the cold wall. Noelle pressed her backside against
it, still crying and Leslie scooted in with her. Leslie turned Noelle
onto her stomach and patted her bottom, gently. “There, there,” she
crooned, “It’ll be okay.” Noelle sniffled, but let Leslie rub her
punished backside expertly. She moaned softly and she snuggled close
when Leslie kissed her wet cheek. “How’d you even find that stuff?”
Leslie asked, tucking Noelle’s bangs away from her puffy eyes. Noelle
could smell the clean soap on Leslie’s skin and breathed in absently.
“What stuff? The stories, you mean?” Noelle asked, glancing up at her.
Leslie nodded. “I told you. They were up when I came home,” Noelle said.
Leslie shook her head. “They couldn’t have been. I’m always so…” “What
do you mean? You were reading them?!?” Noelle shrieked, leaning up on an
elbow. Leslie grinned, mysteriously. “No,” she said, “I wrote them.”
Noelle shook her head, with a wickedly indignant grin. She eyed Leslie’s
pale bottom with new interest. “You bad girl,” she said, considering
some delicious payback.
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