Susan was prettier than usual that morning. Her
neatly-brushed silky blond hair just brushed her shoul-
ders with a slight wave. My downstairs neighbor had
dressed for comfort in running shorts, a tube top and
sandals. Her clothing hugged her lush figure tightly,
just as I wished I could.

She seemed preoccupied, however, as we shared
our customary cup of Saturday morning coffee. Her blue
eyes stared absently at her hand slowly stirring the
spoon in her cup. Twice, she had inhaled as if about to
speak, looked up at me, hesitated, then returned to her
stirring, letting the breath out as a sigh.

“Something’s on your mind,” I said, stating the
obvious. I let the silence grow as she stared and
stirred.

“I got a notice from the bank yesterday,” she
explained. “It seems that I overdrew my checking account
and they had to bounce a number of checks, including my
rent check and one to the grocery store.”

“Ohhh,” I moaned, “that is trouble.”

“It sure is! I’ll have to pay the bank ten dol-
lars for each one and another charge to the landlord.
The store won’t take my checks any more, so I’ll have to
pay cash there. I’m so mad at myself! Last time I did
this, I promised myself that it would never happen
again.”

It was clear that she was really upset. “I’d be
happy to do anything I can to keep you from overdrawing
your account,” I told her.

“You said that last time, too. I made myself a
promise about what would happen if I did it again.”

I was intrigued. “What was that?” I asked.

I could see her struggling with herself for a
moment. When she spoke, her voice was so soft that I
could barely hear her. “I want you to put me over your
knee and give me a good, hard spanking.”

That wasn’t what I expected her to say. I asked
her, “Why do you want a spanking?”

“When I was a little girl and I did something I
wasn’t supposed to do, my Dad used to put me over his
knee and spank my bare bottom with my Mom’s hairbrush. I
hated it when he did that, but I sure didn’t repeat
whatever it was that got me spanked! I don’t know what
else to do. I’ve tried all kinds of things, but here I
am with my account overdrawn, and I simply can’t let
that happen again. I’ve been thinking that maybe the old
solutions were the best solutions.”

“Why am I the person that you’re asking to spank
you?”

“We’ve known each other for some time now and
you’re one of my closest friends. I trust you. I’ve
seen some books in your apartment, y’know, the ones with
the pictures of women getting spanked on their bare bot-
toms, and I thought you’d understand what I wanted. I
thought that you’d probably know what you were doing and
could give me a really good spanking. I can’t spank my-
self, and, after all, you did offer to help.”

“I thought I was offering to help you make a
budget and balance your checkbook.”

“I know you did, but that’s not the kind of help
I need from you. I have no trouble balancing my check-
book, when I finally get around to doing it. I’ve also
made lots of budgets, thousands of them. The problem is
that I just can’t stick to any of them. No, what I need
from you is the kind of help that involves a hairbrush
and my bare bottom.”

She rose from her chair and walked to her bed-
room. Her bottom cheeks squirmed under her tight satiny
running shorts. I could hear her moving about her bed-
room, then she called to me, “I’m ready for my spanking,
now.”

I stopped in the bedroom doorway transfixed by
the sight that greeted me. Susan stood next to the low
bench that she had pulled out from her vanity table by
her bed. Her running shorts were gone and she was bare
from her tube top to her sandals. She stood facing me
with her hands demurely folded in front of her pussy.
Her slender arms framed her gorgeous breasts as they
strained against her form-fitting tube top. Two little
bumps in the stretchy fabric told me that her nipples
were erect. She hung her head and kept her eyes on the
floor. Once in a while she would look to her right at
the object sitting on top of the vanity bench and
tremble. It was a large, heavy, oval-backed, wooden
hairbrush.

“Are you sure you want me to spank you?” I asked.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Turn your back to me and show me your bottom,”
I told her. She looked up at me apprehensively, then
turned slowly, bringing her nether cheeks into view. Her
bottom was sheer perfection, the most beautiful and
spankable I had ever seen. At first I hadn’t been sure
that a spanking was a solution to her problem, but, at
that moment, I couldn’t wait to get her across my lap.
She looked back at me over her shoulder. “Please,” she
said, her blue eyes just beginning to fill with tears,
“Don’t spank me too hard.”

I walked over to her and, putting my hands on
her shoulders, turned her to face me. Her breasts heaved
with her labored breathing. “I’m going to spank you hard
enough to make you sorry that you bounced those checks,
and I’m going to spank you hard enough to make you care-
ful never to do it again.”

I picked up the hairbrush and sat down on the
vanity bench. “This is it, Susan,” I told her. “Either
lie across my lap so I can spank your bare bottom with
this hairbrush, or put your shorts back on and go back
to the kitchen and finish your coffee.” Indecision
flashed across her face, then determination, then re-
signation. With a choked sob and a sniffle, she draped
herself across my lap.

I clamped my right leg across her calves to
control her kicking and wrapped my left arm around her
waist to hold her body against mine. Her bottom was per-
fectly presented in the classic spanking position. Even
before her spanking began, she started to cry. I
ignored her crocodile tears, gripped the hairbrush,
raised it over my head, took careful aim, and brought it
down on the base of her right bottom-cheek with a re-
sounding CRACK!

“OW! Oh, wow, that really hurt!” she cried.

“Of course it hurt,” I told her, “You’re being
spanked.” I smacked the hairbrush against her other but-
tock.

“Ohhh, please (WHACK) I’m sorry. (WHACK) I’ll be
good! I’ll (WHACK) Ow! I’ll never let it (WHACK) OWW!
Ohh, let it happen again! (WHACK) OHH, please, I’m
SORRRYYYY! (WHACK) OWW! OHHHHHHH, OWWW!!

She writhed on my lap and wiggled her bottom
back and forth, trying to escape the brush. She tried to
kick her legs, but my leg held hers so firmly that she
could only pound the carpet with her toes. The gyrations
of her body were so intense that her ample breasts fell
out of her tube top. I tightened my grip around her
waist as I continued to spank her.

“Indeed you won’t (WHACK) let it happen again.
(WHACK) It’s going to be a while (WHACK) before you
bounce another check (WHACK) because it’s going to be a
while (WHACK) before you sit down (WHACK) to write
another (WHACK) one.”

Her writhing got weaker and her crying got
louder as I continued to spank her with that hairbrush.
She finally stopped struggling and just lay across my
lap, her body wracked with sobs. Her hanging breasts
swayed gently with her sobs and each impact of the
brush. Tears streamed down her face and dropped onto the
carpet. Her bottom was as red as a desert sunset, and
her cheeks involuntarily clenched and unclenched between
each smack.

Finally, I stopped spanking her and set the hair
brush down on the floor next to me. I unwrapped my arm
from her waist, released her calves from the grip of my
right leg, and turned her over to sit on my lap, her
flaming bottom hanging over the left edge of my lap. She
put her arms around my neck and, holding my head to her
soft breasts, she rested her head on mine as she fin-
ished crying. The light caresses that I gave her bottom
almost set off a new round of sobbing, but, after a few
minutes, she regained much of her composure.

I looked sternly into her tear-stained face.
“Are you sorry that you overdrew your checking account?”
I asked her.

“Yes, sir.”

“What did you get for overdrawing your checking
account?”

“A spanking.”

“What kind of spanking did you get?”

Her voice was almost a whisper. “A hard spanking
with a hairbrush on my bare bottom.”

“Are you ever going to overdraw your checking
account again?”

“No, sir.”

“What are you going to do if you overdraw your
checking account again?”

She paused. “Ask you for another spanking,” she
finally said.

“What kind of spanking are you going to ask for?”

She leaned back on my lap and looked at me with
a tearful but devilish grin. “Whatever kind of spanking
you decide to give me.”

“You brat,” I said and gave her bare bottom
another smack, “get up, put your breasts back into your
top, put your shorts back on, and, when you’ve finished
collecting yourself, come back to the kitchen and finish
your coffee.”

After that spanking, Susan was much more careful
with her checking account. Eventually, I did have to
spank her for overdrawing it again, but that wasn’t un-
til a long time later.