Even Good Girls Need Spanking — An Erotic Story

A college girl gets some punishment [FM][light domination][spanking]

This is the first story I?ve written that is loosely based on a video as inspiration. The details of the main character?s appearance, the spanking sequence, and the title, notably. The rest of the story is purely my creation. I have no relation to this excellent video. I link it here for your entertainment. You could watch it before or after reading the story.

[NSFW links!! ]https://shooshtime.com/videos/babe/sometimes-the-good-girls-need-a-spanking_138513/ or https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5cdc8396dc3c8

See more of my stories on literotica.

Dating Nick was all-consuming. I had never known anyone more intense before, or since. He was a tall and athletic junior majoring in ?business administration,? but I didn?t know what that meant, as a freshman. Whether he was preparing a class presentation, or with his buddies playing basketball or hanging out at the bar, or just with me in our private time, he was always 100% on and in your face. He had no off switch. I never saw him relax the entire time I dated him.

That was a big part of the attraction, I?m sure. His intensity. Because when he was 100% focused on me, it felt like the whole world was paying attention. I was center stage. Was I making up for a childhood with two sisters and distracted, travelling parents? Maybe. All I know was that holding a captive audience was a treat for me. Even if some of the attention got uncomfortable.

And I should also mention: he was drop dead gorgeous. It was a bold move in my first year of college to date an upperclassman ? to the jibes of my hallmates ? but he was so mysteriously handsome that I fell hard for him. I was powerless to avoid it.

This story begins on a stormy east coast night at the end of January. We?d been on three or four dates by that point, and had fooled around under the blankets in the dorm rec room at the end of the hall, and then again and more in my room, but we hadn?t gone all the way yet. I was a more reserved about sex than the average college freshman girl, I supposed, and even though he was forceful about many things in our relationship, he was respectful and hadn?t pushed me for that.

I suppose I would have been introduced to Nick?s darker interests one way or another, but my mistake was confiding in my fears of French Literature 108. It was a tough class known for weeding out freshman from the honors program that I was so proud to be a part of.

The term had gotten under way and I was already behind and worried about the big mid terms creeping up on me. He had holed up at our dorm during the storm and we were in the rec room, alone on the big couch there with the TV muted so we could make progress on our homework. I?d been kvetching vaguely to him about my worries over school and grades, which I should have known would set him into problem solving mode.

?Why do you think you won?t do well in that class?? He asked, in his deep and direct voice. I thought with dread about the volume of work I faced this next week and beyond.

?Because I know myself too well,? I said honestly. ?And I know I can procrastinate. Like really put the work off. I?ve usually gotten away with it ? maybe always gotten away with it, since high school ? but I have a feeling this time with French Lit it?s going too fast and I?m getting over my head.?

He pulled himself up on the couch and looked at me seriously.

?Chris, you are very smart, you know. You just need to develop your discipline.?

?Sure, sounds easy. All of the sudden I will just start doing everything I need to, every day. On time.? I said sarcastically, and laughed.

He remained serious. ?Yes, exactly that. You can train yourself. You just need the proper framework.?

I raised my eyebrows in surprise at this comment. ?What does that mean?? I said back to him with a little heat.

?I?ll show you,? he said. ?We?ll write up a contract for the work you need to do for your French Lit class, and we?ll both sign it.? He looked at me with unmoving eyes. ?You?ll authorize me to manage your behavior.?

?Nick,? I said, dropping my voice to match his tone. ?That?s a little weird. What are you going to do if I don?t do my homework, put me over your knee and spank me??

?Well, in fact, yes, that?s one appropriate penalty that could be given.?

?Oh my God, Nick!? I looked around the empty room to make sure nobody was within earshot. ?Are you serious? You want me to sign one of these bondage contracts that says I?m your slave or something??

?It would be a program to ensure your performance for this one class. You would be amazed how having real consequences will teach you self discipline in a hurry. Your grade is directly determined by the choices that you make and you have plenty of time. You have full control over it?

?No way! I?m not up for that.? I looked back down at my textbook, nervously. It freaked me out a little, seeing how stern he got just telling me about this idea of his. I was already scared enough of the work in the honors program, without being worried about having my boyfriend judge me and enforce some vague penalties. Maybe even smack me around.

Well, I dismissed that conversation and for the next week went back to school as normal. As things would go, and not really a surprise knowing myself, I did goof off on Thursday with two girlfriends from the dorm ? we skipped our last class and went shopping downtown and ended up catching a movie and some dessert afterwards, coming home late. It was therapeutic to hang out with friends and de-stress. I needed it.

However, there was a surprise quiz in the dreaded French Lit the very next morning, and I hadn?t prepared at all. I bombed it badly. We score the quizzes in class on the spot, so it gave me a wake up call. I left the class shaken, again unsure if I would survive this term in the honors program.

That night Nick took me out for a late pizza dinner. I shouldn?t have disclosed what happened, but I was glum and he wormed it out of me. I can never hide my emotions, and he?s quite perceptive, and persistent, and once he grabbed hold of this he wouldn?t let it go.

?Chris, you need to ace this class. You want to stay in the program, right??

?Yes, yes.? I said reluctantly, and looked up to see him staring directly back at me. ?Oh no, you?re going to bring up the slave contract again, right? You actually want me to sign that??

?Yes, I do. And look, it?s not a ?slave contract?. Trust me on this. Let me show you what it would be.?

Right there in the restaurant booth he pulled out his notebook and started intently writing on a blank page. I leaned back and sipped my coke, wondering if this was real. I looked at all the other couples making small talk with their dinner dates, smiling and laughing with each other. At one table, a joke?s punchline sent a foursome into loud guffawing. One girl couldn?t stop snorting.

And here I was, being given a slave contract from my new boyfriend saying, yeah sure, tie me up and spank my ass if I failed French Lit.

?There,? he said, proudly as he pushed the notebook towards me. Rows of his neat handwriting filled the top half of the page and there were two signature blanks at the bottom.

?This isn?t actually legally binding, right?? I ventured.

?No, not in a court of law. But you can bet that I will enforce it.? He looked at me without any trace of humor. It sent a little shiver through my spine. ?Without that, it?s a meaningless piece of paper. You would just ignore it.?

I thought that over. He was right. If I knew it didn?t matter, that he wouldn?t follow through, then I wouldn?t take it seriously, and I would just put off my homework as I?d been doing.

I sat up and read through the text carefully. It didn?t specify any specific punishments. It just said that I, Christina, would empower him, Nick, with all the means he deemed necessary to ensure my performance in the French Literature class this semester.

I thought about the situation carefully. I was in trouble. Nick was right about that. I needed something bold to jar myself out of the complacency pervading my second semester. My parents were paying a shitload of money for college tuition, and I didn?t want to let them down. Maybe ? well hell, yeah definitely ? this would keep me focused and working hard.

I looked over at Nick. He was so serious. I smiled, though. Handsome bastard. I know from our long discussions that he cared for me and wouldn?t hurt me. But he was intense enough that this would scare me. I wouldn?t want to find out what punishment he would enact.

?Do you have a pen?? I asked.

?I do,? he said, ?but think just a second. This is real. If you sign this, I will be your partner in making sure that you perform in this class.? He stared at me with his dark eyes.

?Shit, Nick, you?re scaring me a little.?

?Yes, just a little is the right amount. You need to have some skin in the game for this to work. And I do mean skin.? He raised his eyebrows.

?What the fuck!? I said in a half laugh and half incredulous. ?You wouldn?t spank me on my bare ass? Would you??

?I very well might,? he said. ?If that?s the only way to get you to focus on your classwork.? He paused and attempted a sympathetic smile. ?You need to do a lot of work, Chris. You?re failing this class and you need to turn that around to an A. In very short order, like this weekend. You need powerful motivation.?

?Oh my God, maybe I need to think about this,? I said.

?Yes, you should. Don?t sign it now. Go home tonight and think on it. You need a deadline. That?s a good start to your discipline lessons. Tomorrow, Saturday, at noon, this paper must be signed and returned to me at my house, in a sealed envelope, if you wish to proceed.? He signed the blank by his name and folded the paper back to me, but he put the pen back in his own pocket without giving it to me.

We said goodnight stiffly and I walked back to my dorm, confused. One moment I would think, this is fucking crazy, I know this guy from only a few dates, do I trust him to manage me like some schoolgirl? The next moment I would think, yes, I know myself well enough that I was in real trouble, as he had pointed out. I could ? would ? fail this class if I didn?t change my behavior, and I wasn?t sure that the fear of failing alone would be enough to cause me to change.

Would it even work? I tried to imagine having signed the contract, and knowing my French Lit homework was due Monday. Would I go work on it right this weekend knowing that he was getting ready to spank me if I didn?t?

Yes, I would. Damn straight I would. It would be the first thing I would go do. I?m not going to let him get his hands on my bare ass. At least not in this way, and I smiled at the image of him on my bare ass in a very different way.

He was right that it would be a most powerful motivator.

In the dorm hall, I stopped at the rec room, which was empty of people but someone had left out a tall bottle of cheap tequila, what they make margaritas out of. But in the dorms, like college students everywhere, we just mixed in Kool-Aid with any alcohol available. I poured myself a paper cup of it over crushed ice and thought.

Damn it, I need the discipline. I signed the paper right there and went back to my room and crashed, fast asleep. I set my alarm for 11 am in order to be a good girl and turn in the form to my boyfriend by noon.

The rest of that weekend, and in fact that whole next week, I was a good girl. I was amazing. A model student. I did all my homework plus the extra credit. I even found that having put the work in, the class was more enjoyable, and by Thursday I felt on top of the world. And it wasn?t just for French Lit ? I got my head back into all of my classes. I had to admit, the slave contract was a strong motivator. Even if Nick insisted it wasn?t a slave contract.

On Friday we had the French Lit quiz and it was a breeze. I got a perfect 100%. Take that, Nick, I thought smugly as I looked over the marks from my classmate. You?re not getting your hands on my ass.

We planned to meet at his place to start the evening, so I stopped by my dorm on the way over. I had the urge to look sexy tonight. I was in the mood to let this man stretch my sexual boundaries just a little bit more than I?d let him so far. I picked a comfortable long-sleeve grey top and this cute black skirt, and looked at myself in the mirror.

I?ve got long straight blonde hair, a light complexion and a tight, athletic build. An old boyfriend said that my tits were too small and pointy, what an asshole, but I think they are cute. I ran my hand down my skirt over my butt. I was a touch thick down there, I had to admit. But I can tell you one area where I am unsurpassed ? I?ve got a babe face. No doubt. And I know how to do my make-up on fleek. Mascara, liner, lip gloss, eyebrows. I could be a model, I?ve been told.

When I arrived at his place, he got down to business right away. He had the only single room in this shared college house of boys. It was quiet. I think we were the only ones there.

?Okay, Chris, let?s see the quiz.? He held his hand out wanting proof, knowing that we graded them in class. I proudly dug the paper out of my backpack and showed him my 100%.

?Nice,? he said. ?You?ll be glad you got that 100%.? Then he paused and looked at me seriously.

He added, ?But you know, even good girls need spanking.?

?Nick,? I said, surprised and shaking my head, ?No way, I worked hard all week and I aced that quiz.?

?And you should be glad. But here?s the way a discipline program works. At first, it?s the fear of the unknown. You worked hard this week motivated by that fear. But you may easily get complacent if you avoid all consequence this week. Knowing what could happen is necessary to learning discipline.?

?What the fuck. That doesn?t make sense.?

?It does,? he countered, then point in front of him, ordered, ?Go to the table.? Still shaking my head, disagreeing with him, I somehow felt myself walking over to the table, anyway. Why did he control me so absolutely? He positioned me to bend over the edge of it.

I turned my head back to him. ?Nick, you?re really going to spank me??

?I am. And there are some rules you need to follow. You are not to speak unless spoken to, and you must call me ?sir?. If you do not, I will repeat and increase the punishment.?

Jesus Christ. I was getting a little scared now. I got quiet and held my head down.

Maybe he felt my mood go dark, because he lightened up just a little and said in a softer voice, ?Chris, this isn?t going to be so bad. And this whole thing will work. You can trust me.?

He paused and resumed his role with a commanding voice.

?Did you study hard this week??

?Yes.?

?Yes what??

I paused. What the fuck? Oh, that.

?Yes, sir,? I said meekly.

?And did you get a 100% on the quiz today??

?Yes, sir.?

?Good girl. You will be spanked but it will be a light session.?

He bent me over at the waist, resting my elbows on this flimsy card table. I hope it didn?t collapse with my weight pressed on it. He stood behind me to my left, with his hands resting on my waist.

I looked up and could see myself in the mirror on Nick?s bedroom door. I was looking fine, although this wasn?t the pose I had dressed up for. Was he really going to spank me? I couldn?t believe it.

?Take your bra off.? He ordered.

Oh, whoa, ? now I got the idea. He had a control fetish and this was all part of making love this afternoon, and the spanking?s just a big tease, I thought. I admit I was also getting horny following his orders, and I wanted to let off some steam after my classes, so I played along.

?Yes, sir,? I said back to him, more eagerly with my new understanding of the game, and slipped out of my bra while keeping my shirt on. I pulled it out one sleeve and tossed it on the floor. He kept his hands on my waist the entire time. It was sexy, feeling his hold there.

Then I felt him bring his hands to my shirt, which he pulled up to expose my tits. He was behind me, but he could see me exposed in the mirror. We?d fooled around enough already that this wasn?t new for him, and it was a turn on. I thought about reaching down to unzip his pants with one hand, but something about his quiet behavior kept me tense and unmoving.

Then he pushed down firmly on my upper back.

?Ready.? It wasn?t a question, it was a command.

He was going to spank me after all? Shit. I thought we were about to start rolling around in the bed after my bra came off.

?Yes, sir,? I eked out, and waited, looking nervously down at the table, and then glancing to my left where he was standing behind me. His left hand still held onto my waist. I figured his right hand was up in the air about to come down on me.

SLAP. Ouch! His hand slapped my left butt cheek through the skirt. Hell, that hurt more than I thought it would. I wanted to cry out, but I had enough sense to stay quiet.

SLAP. He hit me again, on the right cheek. Now that I knew what was coming, it wasn?t so bad.

SLAP SLAP SLAP. He hit me repeatedly. The last two were both on my right cheek, and milder. I think I even cracked a barest of smiles down at the table. Not pleasant, but I could stand this well enough. Think you?re a tough guy, do you, I remember thinking.

I didn?t realize at the time, though, that he was just warming me up.

SLAP. Back on my left side. That one hurt, and I winced. Shit. This was for real. He was really spanking me. My boyfriend I?d known for less than a month was spanking me, like it was the 1950?s. Or 1890?s. And I hadn?t even done anything wrong. I was going to have to summon some courage and determination to get through this.

SLAP SLAP SLAP. He started a long sequence and these hurt. Some of the blows popped my mouth open to gasp for air, but I didn?t make any noise. Sometimes there was a longer pause and I knew the next one was going to be harder.

SLAP SLAP SLAP. I could feel my eyes tearing up. I licked my lips and stared down at the table. I could feel my tits bounce when his hand made contact on a hard blow.

Without any hesitation, he pulled up my skirt to expose my panties. Before I could say anything, and he would have barked an order at me if I did, I?m sure, he started hitting me again. It was a sharper pain, only a light fabric between his hand and my sensitive skin.

SLAP SLAP SLAP. In between the hits, I felt him adjust my panties. It was humiliating to be managed like that. I swallowed and endured it.

SLAP SLAP SLAP. He rained down some hard ones in a fast sequence and I just about lost it there ? I almost yelled out then but he stopped just in time. I think he could tell when I flipped my hair that I had too much. Then he rubbed me on the ass gently in circles. I couldn?t decide if I liked that or hated it.

SLAP SLAP. These were softer, almost a caress, and he started tipping my hips back and forth with his left hand, to push one cheek towards him. SLAP. Then rotate for the other cheek. SLAP. And back again, repeated, growing in intensity. I didn?t mind it at first, but then he started going harder.

SLAP SLAP SLAP. I was a good girl, I thought. I didn?t deserve to be spanked.

Then the part came that I was dreading. Before I could comprehend what was happening, with both hands he pulled my panties right down to my thighs. My bare ass was hanging out there for him. I had the notion earlier that I wouldn?t let him do this, but then before I knew it, he was doing it and I didn?t stop him.

I had to be a good girl now.

SLAP SLAP SLAP. Right on my bare ass. I squirmed. It was more than the pain. It was the embarrassment. I knew he could see my pussy as he slapped me red.

SLAP SLAP. He started a fast sequence of a whole bunch, maybe twenty or thirty. These were harder, and without any recovery time I made little noises on every hit. At least he didn?t punish me extra for the noise. After one that really hurt, I let out a little muffled cry and he stopped.

I hoped that was it. That was enough. And if that was for getting a 100% on my test, I couldn?t imagine what I?d get if I bombed one.

I could see myself in the mirror with tear-stained makeup and tousled hair. My tits were sticking out prominently below the shirt, which he had pulled up mid-way across my chest. I have puffy pink nipples and I saw they were engorged. I was looking hot, I must say. Some part of me must be enjoying this, I wondered.

?Christina, you will now count to fifteen for me, on each stroke.? He never used my full name before. It was hot.

SLAP. He hit me, hard. I didn?t say anything, then I realized what he wanted.

?One,? I said, and quickly corrected to ?One, sir.?

SLAP.

?Two, sir,? I said meekly. Damn, this hurt. These were a lot harder then the warm up blows.

SLAP. And on we went. Every time there was a long pause, he rubbed my ass like he owned it, which I suppose at that moment he did. Then I knew the next hit was going to be extra hard.

I made it to fifteen.

But I had one more challenge. He bent me over again with my hands at the sides of my hips, and rained down an endless parade of slaps. These weren?t as hard, but he didn?t stop. I started blinking and almost crying. I could feel my body reaching towards an orgasm. If he didn?t stop, he was going to push me over the edge.

It kept coming over and over. I squirmed and moaned on each slap. Then all of the sudden I came, in a rush, and he stopped slapping. I let out a guttural sound without moving.

It was over.

He must have reached to a nearby shelf where he had some lotion, because the next thing I know he?s rubbing it all over my ass where I must have been red from all the slaps.

?What do you say?? he had the gall to ask me.

Oh my God, I thought, he wants a thanks for this.

?Thank you, sir,? I choked out, still not looking at him. I wasn?t sure how to get out of this roleplay, or whatever it was, and back to normal conversation. He made it easier by stepping out of the room without looking at me.

I slumped over the table and looked at myself in the mirror. One hand wandered down to my pussy and I rubbed in a small circle, remembering the orgasm. Then I reached back to my ass and rubbed it with both hands. I twisted to look at it in the mirror, and sure enough, it was bright red.

I imagined Nick standing over me, commanding, ?You?ve been a good girl, but even good girls need spanking.? I lightly slapped my own butt and could feel a little squirm in my pussy.

What the hell, I may as well really go for this experience, I remember thinking.

He knocked gently on the door and stuck his head in. I opened the door and pulled him to me.

?Please fuck me, sir.? I whispered right to his face. He was surprised by his shy girlfriend! But pleased.

I turned around and bent down to the table, holding my ass with both hands and gently rubbing it. I didn?t hear anything behind me. I spread my feet wider so I knew he was getting a great look right at my wet pussy. I didn?t want any more spanking but I did want him inside me.

Then I heard his pants unzip and a moment later felt him lean against me, entering me. His hands reached around pushing up my sweater and I felt him knead my tits. It wasn?t gentle, he was holding and squeezing me roughly. The whole experience had me primed, and I came again readily, before he did. And then even once more after him.

Nick and I didn?t end up together for the long haul. And maybe that?s just as well. His intensity was a once-in-a-lifetime experience for me.

But he was sure as hell right about one thing. I got an A in French Lit that semester.

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