by Flatfish

 Kate stepped into the shower and closed her eyes. The steaming water peppered the smooth curves of her body, washing away the tension of the day. It was her birthday. She was twenty-one and she was looking forward to a great party tonight. She had spent a hectic day preparing and everything had gone well, everything except that argument with the old gypsy woman. 

Thinking back, she regretted her actions. The old woman had stopped her in the high street and tried to sell her some flowers. She hadn’t really listened. She just told the old crone to get out of her way; she was in too much of a hurry. The gypsy had persisted and in the end Kate had lost her temper and had shouted at her, calling her an old hag and telling her to get it into her thick head that she didn’t want any flowers. It had come as quite a surprise ten minutes later when Kate returned to her car and found the old woman waiting. 

“Hello again dear. I see it’s your birthday.” The old woman had a deceptively sharp mind, well used to observing everything about a prospective customer and drawing conclusions from a few meagre clues. In this case it had been easy. Kate had left a birthday card on the passenger seat of her car, the envelope revealing her name and address. “Twenty-one eh? Old enough to know you should show some respect to a poor old woman. Well I might have a little present for you myself.” The old woman had pressed a note into Kate’s hand; a gypsy curse! In the moment it had taken to read it, the old woman had vanished. Kate remembered the words now. 

A lesson taught is a lesson learned

For your rudeness,

a spanking you have earned. 

Kate’s shower drowned out any noise from downstairs where she had foolishly left the backdoor unlocked. She didn’t hear the old woman now quietly moving about her kitchen, sprinkling a potent concoction of herbs over the carefully prepared party food; herbs with a powerful aphrodisiac effect. Nor was she aware of the special gift that the old gypsy hid behind some of the party bottles. 

At 8.00 the first guests arrived and were welcomed by Kate and her partner Samantha. Alcohol flowed and food was eaten. By 10.00 the party was in full swing and the sexual tension from the gypsy herbs was boiling. When one of the guests found the extra present in the kitchen, Kate’s fate was sealed. 

Kate’s friends gathered around as she quickly opened the mysterious gift. No one knew where it had come from. She ripped away the wrapping paper, revealing a small box, a little smaller than a shoebox. When she removed the lid her stomach tightened. Trembling a little she removed a solid wooden hairbrush, and read the gift tag that hung from the handle.

A little gift

for your

 Birthday Spanking

“Wow!” laughed Samantha, reading the gift tag over her shoulder. “We’ll have to give this a try.” 

“No way,” said Kate. But the word was out and with sexual tension so high; the cries for Kate to take her birthday spanking became overwhelming. Alan, one of the guests who had lusted after Kate for years and longed to get his hands on her firm and sexy bottom, volunteered to do the honours and dragged an upright chair into the centre of the room. Samantha and another friend Jenny grabbed Kate’s arms and pulled her to her feet. Jenny took the hairbrush. Kate pretended to protest but she allowed the friends to lead her over to Alan, who sat waiting, patting his thighs and relishing the task. 

Kate allowed herself to be laid face down over Alan’s knees. She was acutely conscious of her delectable bottom, now prominently positioned with her jeans stretched tight. Her face glowed red with embarrassment but she had no idea how much redder her bottom was about to become. 

Jenny handed Alan the hairbrush. He felt its solid weight and allowed the smooth back to rest against Kate’s skintight jeans. “Now young lady,” he said. “I hear you have been a naughty girl.” He raised the brush and let it drop with a quiet Thwap! on Kate’s firm bottom. She squealed and giggled. “One,” he announced. Raising the brush a little higher he let it fall on the other cheek, stinging a little. “Two,” he said. Samantha and a few other guests around him joined the chant. Spurred on by the crowd he delivered the third smack with force. The sharp crack sounded over the voices of the guests as they unanimously chanted THREE! 

“Ow! Ow! That really hurt,” cried Kate. “Not so hard!” 

Alan raised the brush higher and brought it down faster and harder. Smack!!

“FOUR!” cried the guests, laughing, driven by the gypsy herbs and now lustfully glued to the erotic sight of the beautiful twenty-one year old being seriously spanked. Samantha winced, as the hairbrush clattered against Kate’s tender bottom with a force that she knew must have really stung. But she too was drugged by the gypsy potion and caught up in the lustful excitement. 

Kate swore and struggled to get to her feet but Alan held her in place with a firm grip around her slim waist. He raised the brush again and this time brought it down repeatedly, in rapid succession against Kate’s lower cheeks, four whacks on the right and four on the left. Kate screamed. 

“FIVE, SIX, SEVEN, EIGHT”, “NINE, TEN, ELEVEN, TWELVE”, shouted the guests. 

Kate’s bottom burned with an unbearable fire and tears rolled down her cheeks. She struggled helplessly and begged Alan to let her go but Alan, Samantha and the crowd were now in a sexual frenzy, oblivious to her pleas. 

“Wait, wait,” cried Samantha excitedly. She leaned over and whispered in Alan’s ear and a wicked grin crossed his face. 

Kate choked back the tears, relived that Sam had come to her rescue. Alan released his grip and allowed her to struggle to her feet, clutching and rubbing her stinging bottom. Her long blond hair stuck to her damp face where the tears and makeup had made grey rivulets. 

“I think we can do better than this,” announced Samantha to the expectant audience. Grab her arms.” 

“No! Please! Oh my God!” cried Kate as two girl friends took hold of her arms while Samantha reached for her jeans, tugging at the button and zip then yanking them down to the floor. The three girls then dragged Kate back over Alan’s Knees so the spanking could continue, now with renewed enthusiasm on the thin white panties that offered little protection to her scarlet bottom. 

Alan raised the brush high and whacked it down hard on the cotton-covered curves. 

Whack! “THIRTEEN!” 

Kate screamed and bucked her hips up and down. She could no longer kick her legs as they were now tangled in her jeans, binding her ankles together. “Let me go, let me go you bastard!” Alan paused for a moment as if considering her request then, “FOURTEEN!” he laughed and slapped the hairbrush down harder than ever on the tender target. 

“FIFTEEN”, whack! “SIXTEEN”, Smack! “SEVENTEEN”, Splat! Kate cried and cursed with each blow as the relentless spanking scorched her stinging bottom. 

“Maybe these should come down too,” said Alan, pulling back the waistband of Kate’s panties and peeking at her scarlet bottom. 

“No!” cried Kate. “Please, no, don’t.” 

“Pull them down!” shouted one of the guests. 

“Yes, bare her arse.” 

“Down!” said another, starting a chant. 

“Down! Down! Down!” 

“Nooo!” Kate pleaded. But it was no good. Alan gripped the panties and roughly dragged them down to the middle of her smooth, bronzed thighs. Her naked bottom clearly showed her bikini lines, but what had once been white un-tanned skin, now blazed a fiery crimson. 

Alan took a moment to drink in the sight of Kate’s beautiful bare bottom and feel the heat of the merciless spanking. Then raising the hairbrush again he slammed it down with a resounding crack that echoed around the room, catching the lower curve, just above her thigh. Kate screamed and struggled madly to escape. She longed to rub her right bottom cheek, which now raged with a much deeper red mark where the hairbrush had struck, but her arms were trapped in Alan’s vice like grip. She could never have imagined the intensity of the sting that now built to a crescendo in her poor tortured bottom. 

“EIGHTEEN,” shouted the crowd. 

Whack! The hairbrush cracked again, this time against her left cheek. 


Kate struggled and cried but could do nothing to escape. 

Alan rubbed the hard wooden back of the hairbrush over Kate’s stinging bottom, delaying the last two smacks that would end his moment of ecstasy. Then raising it high he delivered that final two strokes with as much force as he could muster. “TWENTY”, WHACK! “TWENTY-ONE”, SMACK! 

The crowd cheered and clapped. Alan helped Kate to her feet and took a bow. Kate, crying uncontrollably pulled up her panties and jeans in an attempt to cover herself and ran from the room. Samantha followed her. 

With the spanking over the guests began to calm down and a few started to wonder if they had gone too far. The party started to break up and Kate’s friends called their thanks and good byes as they left, heading home to release their sexual tension with wild lovemaking and with many planning what they would soon be doing to their partners scantily clad bottoms. 

Up in the bedroom Kate threw herself face down on the bed, crying into her pillow, pushing down her jeans and pants and gently rubbing her stinging bottom. Samantha followed her and sat beside her. Samantha lifted Kate’s hands away from her bottom and gently stroked the scarlet flesh, soothing the pain with her cool hands. Kate winced and thrilled at the touch. Wild sexual desire flooded her emotions. 

“I, I’m so sorry Kate,” said Samantha. “I don’t know what happened. It was supposed to be fun.” 

Kate rolled onto her side and smiled, sniffing back the tears. “It’s not your fault Sam.” She told Samantha about the gypsy curse. “I don’t know how she did it. Magic maybe. She somehow brought that hairbrush to the party and made us all go mad.” 

Sam stood up and moved towards the door and Kate lustfully watched the lithe movement of her bottom through her tight party dress. 

“Where are you going?” said Kate. 

Sam looked back over her shoulder. “I’m just going to throw that brush away.” 

“No! Wait. Bring it up here,” said Kate, her eyes glued to Samantha’s bottom. “I’ve got an idea. I think the gypsy’s present might not be such a curse after all.”