For the first few weeks working at Joelle’s, my feet never really touched the floor. This was everything I had dreamed of, and more. In case you don’t know about her - though I’d be curious if you didn’t - Joelle’s the woman who turned makeup into a true art. Where others only “applied” lipstick, rouge and eye shadow, she painted with an artist’s skill and turned the plainest women into goddesses, into true artwork. Nobody knew her surname, and nobody needed to. All the big stars flocked to her and grovelled to get appointments. In just a few years, Joelle had made her way from a small town makeup artist to the number one in the country. For her staff, she only picked the best. I had been picked by her.

I had been wide-eyed and full of adoration when she met me in person on my first day. And my eyes had grown even wider after she asked about my living arrangements. I told her about commuting one and a half hours in each direction and she just clucked her tongue, told me that she’d have none of that and offered me a room at one of the houses she owned in the best part of town.

That’s how I got to live with Becca, a friend of her and just a few years older than me. Becca was a freelance writer and worked from home, which was a nice, modern three-bedroom cottage complete with garden and pool. I immediately fell in love with its chalked, white walls and its high windows with folding shutters. Entering the light-suffused living room with my suitcase trailing behind me, I felt like a princess.

When tall Becca greeted me with a soft, “You must be Miranda. Welcome home!” I immediately liked her, and the hug she gave me was warm and affectionate. She didn’t wear makeup, but she was beautiful without it, with her tight, red-blond curls, high cheekbones, huge green eyes and millions of freckles.

She was easy-going and intelligent, and it was fun to be around her. We quickly settled into a comfortable rhythm of who was doing the cooking and cleaning, and I just loved her lasagna. We spent a few nights in the wooden gazebo in the back garden, playing cards, drinking Chardonnay until we went cross-eyed and getting to know each other.

Life was perfect. Until, that is, one Friday afternoon when I was called into Joelle’s office. I wasn’t aware of anything I had done wrong, but I wasn’t told what it was about, and my heart beat hard when I entered the modern, expensive room with the shiny chrome and almost black wood.

“Miranda!” Joelle greeted me from her comfy chair behind the writing desk. “Good that you could come that quickly. I have heard a lot of good things about you so far.” A weight fell from my shoulders. “How are you settling in?”

“It’s brilliant, really!” I gushed. “Becca’s great, and the house and garden are a dream!”

She suddenly looked less relaxed, and the knot in my tummy was back. “I’m happy to hear that. But,” she said with emphasis while she stood up and went around the desk to stand close to me, “there is a little problem that we need to take care of.”

“Problem?” I choked and felt the worry drench my hands with sweat.

“I’m sure we’ll get it under control with a little effort, don’t worry.”

“I’m sorry!” I told her, my voice trembling. “But I don’t understand…”

“The problem is your smoking habit.” She sniffed and wrinkled her nose. “Yes, you smell of smoke. We can’t have that. We want to give our customers the perfect experience of looks and scents. Burnt tobacco doesn’t go with that at all.”

“Oh.” I had never thought about that when I slipped out for the short breaks we were allowed to take and smoked a cigarette. I had found it strange that I was the only one, but given it no second thought.

“You need to stop smoking.” She fixed me with a hard look. “You have two weeks.”

Oh my god! I didn’t know if I could do that. But I’d try my hardest. I couldn’t lose my job over this! “I will, Joelle. I promise!”

Her eyes kept gazing into mine a little longer, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that she doubted my sincerity. “Very well. See that you do. I’d hate to lose you, you’ve received nothing but praise from your co-workers up to now.”

It was a dismissal, I knew that, and mumbling my thanks and promising once more that I’d quit smoking right away, I retreated.

* * * *

Becca had gone out, so I went to bed early that evening and managed to quit smoking for all of four hours. By then, I was nervous like hell, and the only thing I could think about was to get another fag. I had thrown away my pack of cigarettes right away, but now I found myself walking the mile to the gas station for replenishment.

My gut was in a twist, but the first drag soothed my nerves like nothing else, and I smoked two over the short walk back.

I stepped into the living room to find Becca spread out on the leather couch and watching a movie, wearing comfy white shorts, a tank top of the same fabric and cute white ankle socks, and I somehow couldn’t suppress the wave of guilt that welled up, feeling like a child caught with the hand in the cookie jar.

“Hi, Miranda!”

“Ugh, hi! You’re home early.”

“I had to visit a friend’s gallery opening, but her abstract art is not something I can warm up to. I left as soon as I could. What have you been up to?”

“Oh, I, uhm… I was just out for a short walk.”

She sat up and tilted her head, then sniffed the air. “You were out smoking, weren’t you?”

“Uhm, yes,” I admitted with blushing cheeks.

“Joelle told me.”

I gulped.

“If you need help, just tell me. I’ve grown to like you, and I want you to stay around.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, relieved. “I will. I’ll go back to bed now.”

Her eyebrow went slightly upwards when I said “back”, but then she relaxed back into the couch. “Sleep well. And I mean it. Tell me if you need help.”

* * * *

I tried. I really did, all Saturday long. But I only managed a few hours without before the need to have another smoke got overwhelming, and Becca caught me sneak outside each time. Over dinner, she confronted me.

“You’re not coping well.”

“No,” I admitted. “I’m really trying. But after a few hours…” Suddenly, the reality of my situation crashed down over me. “Oh god!” Unstoppable tears shot into my eyes. “I’m going to… to lose my job!” I wailed and buried my face in my hands.

“Hey, honey,” Becca’s voice suddenly soothed from right next to me, and her hand rubbed gently up and down my back. “I told you I’d help you.”

“But… but how?” I sniffled.

She smiled at me, brushing my tears away with a thumb, then gazed into the distance. “I wonder… hm… I’m not sure…”

“What?” I asked, my voice pleading. “If you have an idea, please tell me!”

“Well,” she replied hesitantly, “I’m no psychologist, but…” Her voice trailed off again.

“Please, Becca!”

She sighed. “You know, I just thought that smoking is quite an intense habit. Perhaps something equally intense would help, seeing that you’ve only got two weeks.”

“I’ll try it!” I quickly agreed. “Whatever it is, I’ll try it!”

“You sure?” She looked doubtful. “You don’t even know what it is.”

“I don’t mind.” Then, calming down a bit from the quick switch between desperation and exhilaration, I inquired, “What exactly do you have in mind?”

She bit her lip, looking deep into my eyes, searching. The word she said made me shrink back and stare at her. “Spanking.”

“What?”

“See.” She shrugged, standing up. “I knew it was crazy.”

“No, wait!” I gripped her arm. “Please,” I begged, my voice sounding thin and vulnerable, “explain it to me.”

She sat on the edge of the desk, took my hands in hers and looked deep into my eyes. “I thought that smoking works heavily on the reward system in the brain. To keep you from smoking, perhaps you need something that’s even more intense. Something…” She weighed her words. “Something painful and embarrassing. Something you’ll think twice about.”

I could see the logic and nodded softly.

“Something like a bare-bottom spanking.”

“Bare-bottom!” My head shot up.

“Remember. Embarrassing.”

“Oh god!” My cheeks flushed. “Do you really think that’s necessary?”

She nodded. “I do. I can’t thrash your bottom until you’re unable to sit or walk, so we need something else to make it uncomfortable for you.”

“But…” My voice grew weak. “Isn’t that inappropriate?”

At that, she giggled. “Perhaps. But it’s still loads better than losing your job, don’t you think?”

I caved. “I guess so, yes.”

“Promise me that you’ll tell me instantly when you’ve smoked one.”

I swallowed. But I knew that I would be lost without her help. “I promise!”

She smiled brightly at me. “Good. I’m sure we’ll get that sorted, and you can keep your job. Just come to me if you couldn’t resist temptation, and I’ll give your backside a little reminder.”

“Thank you!” I gushed. “Oh god, I wouldn’t know what to do without you, Becca! Thank you so much!”

“You’re welcome, honey.” She squeezed my hands and stood up, and I could finish dinner in a much happier mood.

* * * *

I made it until shortly before Lunch on Sunday, keeping myself on needles and pins all morning, but while Becca was bustling away in the kitchen, preparing her specialty beef roast, I succumbed to the addiction, snuck out and allowed myself a dizzying smoke in the garden.

The reality of what was going to happen now didn’t hit home until I had stubbed out the cigarette in an old, cracked flower-pot saucer. My fingers began to tremble. My knees wobbled when I made my way into the kitchen and stood nervously just inside the doorway.

“Becca?”

She looked over at me from her position in front of the stove, and one look at my guilty face was enough to discern why I was here. She sighed, moved the pot she was working with away and switched off the burner, then wiped her hands with a towel and went over to me.

“I guess it’s time for your first spanking.”

I nodded weakly. “Can you… can you go easy?”

She laid her arm around my shoulders and steered me into the living room. “That wouldn’t work, we both know that, Miranda.” She pulled out one of the high-backed chairs from the dinner table and sat down in front of me. “Take off your shorts.”

I froze. My heartbeat started to race. “Oh god,” I murmured. “Fuck. I’m not wearing panties. Can I just go and…”

I turned to sprint to my room, but her hand caught mine. “No.”

“No?” My cheeks flushed.

“No. This needs to be embarrassing, you know that. Now drop these shorts and stand here like the naughty girl you are. Or… no, even better. Just stand here and don’t move!” Something in the way she talked to me, treated me like a naughty teenager, made me freeze again and do just that.

And then I felt her fingers on the waistband of my shorts, and ever so slowly, she pushed them down my hips. My heart wanted to explode from my chest when they slipped over my bum cheeks and my pussy was exposed just inches from her eyes. Heat spread over my skin, and I felt light-headed.

She let them slide to the floor and sat back. “Tell my why you need to be spanked.”

“Because,” I answered after a moment of hesitation, “I’ve smoked.”

She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “No, that won’t do. You need to tell me in detail, and in full sentences, why you’ve earned a spanking.”

This was utterly humiliating. We were both grown-ups, but she treated me like a naughty girl. But the stare she sent me told me that there was no way around it. My voice trembled. “I need to be spanked because I couldn’t keep from smoking.” The sentence came out in a rush, but her eyebrow prompted for more. And I suddenly knew what to tell her, and the blush on my cheeks deepened. “I’m a naughty girl, without self-control, and I need to be spanked so I remember not to smoke, or I’ll lose my job.”

It felt crazy. But there was a small buzz of warmth deep inside me when I said these words, something I couldn’t put my finger on. It appeared to please Becca though, because she unfolded her arms and crooked a finger at me. “Very well. Lie across my lap.”

My legs shook, but I draped my body across her thighs and put my hands on the floor. God, what an image I had to give like this, with my bum up in the air. My breasts pressed against her leg. I gasped when her hand touched my naked buttocks. “Becca!”

“What?” she asked with amusement in her voice. “My hand’s going to touch much more of your naughty bum. I’d say it’s a bit late for modesty, naughty girl, isn’t it? Now ask me for the spanking.”

She was making this as hard as possible. My breath grew ragged. But I had agreed to that, hadn’t I? “Please spank me, Becca!”

“Spank what?”

Oh my god! “Please spank my naughty, naked bum, Becca!”

“And how hard should I spank it.” She squeezed my buttock and made me yelp. “Think before you answer!”

My breath got stuck in my throat. I remembered our talk from the evening before, and her words about intensity left only one valid answer. I bit my lip, but there was no way out. “As hard as you can.”

“Good girl.” The nice, warm buzz was back.

The slap came unexpected, and it echoed in the small room like the clapping of thunder. My body rocked forward, fierce heat shot through my behind and my legs kicked out. “Owww!” I wailed. It fucking stung like hell, and I reached back and covered my poor bum protectively. “Please, not that hard!” I whined.

Becca clucked her tongue. “This has been nothing. But it’s your choice. Would you rather have a hurting bum or a job?”

A lovely warmth spread through my abused buttock. “The job,” I admitted with a small voice.

“Then put your hands back on the floor and keep them there.”

“Oh god!” I did as I was told.

The spanking started for earnest. Swat after swat rained down on my backside, each one at least as hard as the one before. Becca took her time though, waiting a few seconds between strokes, and soon my whole body trembled and tears trickled down my cheek.

Sting after sting shot through my bum cheeks and made me wiggle and kick my legs uncontrollably, but I forced myself to keep my hands on the floor while I yelped and sobbed.

Suddenly, she stopped. I feared she might just be pausing, but a few soft taps on my bum were followed by the order to stand up. So I got awkwardly back to my feet and stood before her, both of my hands on my bum and rubbing it gently.

“Have you learned your lesson?” Becca inquired.

“Yes! Yes, I have!” I hastily told her, nodding furiously.

“We’ll see.”

* * * *

Lunch was uncomfortable for me, to say the least. I was constantly shifting my weight and groaning. That Becca had a hard time containing her amusement didn’t make it any better.

Finally, she started to giggle, but soon she was guffawing with tears in her eyes. “Sorry,” she apologized with a somewhat choked voice, “you look so cute when you wiggle around like this.”

“It’s not funny!” I protested with a pout. The moment the words left my lips, I felt incredibly silly, and Becca had to wipe tears from her eyes.

“Really, I’m sorry. I just can’t help it,” she once more ensured me.

I huffed and continued eating, slowly shifting my weight from one side to the other. The warm buzz was still there, but I didn’t want to think about that.

You’d think that having your bum thrashed like this would have made me seriously reconsider my smoking habits. Well, it did for a while, and I managed to stay away from the cigarettes all afternoon, keeping myself busy with doing the dishes, reading and surfing the internet. After dinner, though, the urge became all-encompassing once more, and I found my self in the garden with a cigarette in my fingers.

I shuffled into the living room with my head low and biting my lip.

Becca, already in pajamas and snuggled into a corner of the couch, groaned. “Does it have to be now?” she asked exasperatedly. “It’s my favorite show!”

“I’m sorry. I can come back later to…”

“No. It has to be instantly, or it won’t work well.” She got up from the couch and pulled out the chair once more. “But I think, for keeping me from my program, we should add some embarrassment. Strip! Everything!”

My eyes grew to saucers. “Everything?”

She tapped her fingers impatiently on her thigh. “Everything.”

“But…”

“You want me to help? You’ll do as I say. It’s easy.”

“But, naked? Are you into… you know, girls?”

She let out a huff. “This isn’t about me, this is about you. But I told you, we can stop this any time.”

It was awkward. It was embarrassing like hell, but that, I surmised, was the goal of the whole experience. A minute later and with racing breath, I was standing in front of her stark naked, and her eyes roamed over my too small tits.

“I thought they’d be bigger,” she commented.

My cheeks exploded in color. “I - I tend to wear push-ups.”

“I see. Cheating. Now get into position!”

With my bottom already tender, the slaps were twice as painful. Within seconds, I was dancing on her lap, legs kicking, and bawling for all I was worth. The heat grew into a burning inferno, and once, when she hit close to my thigh, she had to admonish me to keep my hands on the floor again.

I sobbed and wiggled, but she spanked my bum just as thoroughly as she had before lunch. Swat after swat fell with just enough pause to let the pain really hit home. My bum cheeks shook with each impact, and my body rocked on her lap.

Yet, even though I wanted nothing more than for her to stop, the buzz was back, even turning into a heated, swirling sensation between my legs.

I froze. I was becoming aroused!

Two fierce swats fell in quick succession and made me arch my back and shriek.

“There, all done,” Becca proclaimed to my relief. “Get up and stand in front of me.”

I climbed to my feet and stood where she pointed at, right before her. The realization that some part of me was getting aroused was still resonating in my mind, and I wanted to cover my pussy with my hands in case there was evidence of my state. But I didn’t dare to draw her attention there.

“Turn around and bend over. I want to inspect my handy-work. I don’t want to do any lasting damage.”

My face heated up, but I was getting so used to her orders that I complied without thinking, bending down as far as I could so my bum was lewdly on display in front of her face.

When her fingers lightly brushed over it, I gasped, though.

“Shush.” She roamed all over my backside, and my heart beat like mad. “This looks fine. Quite hot, but no deep bruises. You appear to have a very spankable bum.”

A soft swat made me yelp.

“You can dress again. I hope for your sake that this was the last time today.”

“It was!” I quickly ensured her while I slipped on my shorts.

* * * *

Monday morning at work was luckily busy enough so I wasn’t plagued with temptation all the time. Alisa, one of my co-workers, had called in sick, so I took on most of her work to keep myself from slipping outside.

Lunch break was a wholly different thing, though. I went to the small cafe right next to our building and had a chicken salad. At first, everything was okay. But then I noticed all the smoking people around me. Wherever I looked, someone was lighting a cigarette or taking a drag, and the last few bites of salad tasted like cardboard.

If the waitress had arrived at the moment I had finished, I might have made it back to work unscathed. But I wasn’t the only one on lunch break, and by the time she arrived, my internal struggle had been won by the enemy.

As soon as she handed me back the change, I picked up my purse and raced down the street and into the narrow alley next to the shoe shop.

“Fuck!” Why had this stuff to taste so good? I got slightly dizzy from it, and leaned back against the wall. I was in deep shit, and I knew it.

I made it through the afternoon, albeit barely. But when I about to leave, Joelle caught me in the locker room. She didn’t look pleased.

“Joelle?” I greeted her, and my voice couldn’t hide my nerves.

“I’m sorry, Miranda,” she said, and panic tightened its tentacles around my chest. “We’ve had a complaint today.”

“I’m sorry! It was just once, over lunch break. I swear, I’ll manage!”

“I know. Still, I can’t have you working here until you can go through the day without smoking. You know what?” She looked me up and down, and felt like shrinking under her calculating gaze. “Stay home for the rest of the week. Be here on time next Monday, and if you’ve made it, we’ll not talk about anymore.”

The threat was left unspoken, but it was there nonetheless. And my two weeks had just been cut in half. Still, it was better than getting booted. “Thank you, Joelle!”

“Don’t disappoint me. I’d hate to lose you.” She turned around and walked away, and while the sharp clip-clap of her heels faded down the corridor, my heart wouldn’t slow down.

* * * *

Becca was already waiting for me. “Well?” she prompted from her place on the couch where she sat with folded legs and her laptop on her thighs. She could stay like this for hours, and I had no idea how her legs didn’t fall asleep.

I lowered my eyes. “I failed once. Only once! But…”

“But?”

When I looked up, the tears ran hotly down my cheeks. “I’m not allowed to work this week. And I have to be clean by Monday, or…”

I didn’t need to say it. “Oh my. Come here, honey!” She put the laptop on the table, unfolded her legs and held out her arms.

I jumped into her embrace, and her arms wrapped tightly around me.

“I’ll lose my job!” I sobbed. “It’s only one week!”

“Shush.” Her hand rubbed soothing circles on my back. “We’ll get you smoke-free. Perhaps we’ll have to change the way a bit, but I’ll think of something. You’ll not lose your job.”

“Thank you!” I sniffed into her shoulder. “Do you… do you really think I can make it?”

“You will.”

“I’m so glad you’re here, Becca. I couldn’t do this on my own.”

“Oh Miranda,” she whispered into my ear, stroking my hair. “I told you I’d help any way I can. Now get showered and let’s make dinner together.”

* * * *

We made pasta with salmon and cream sauce and had a glass of light white wine with it, and we talked about anything but smoking and work.

We had a good time. Becca told a few funny tales from her trip to the Caribbean a few months ago which involved far too many drinks, and we giggled and laughed.

We cleared away the dishes, and suddenly her laughter stopped. I turned around to find her leaning against the table and studying me thoughtfully.

“What are you thinking?” I inquired.

“Hm? Oh, nothing.” But the faraway look wouldn’t leave her eyes completely, until she stood upright and clapped her hands. “Time for your punishment.”

I took a step back. “But I haven’t. Smoked, I mean. You were here all the time!”

“And what about lunch break?”

“But that was at work!”

She tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. “And that doesn’t count why?”

I searched for a rationale. She kept looking at me. My shoulders slumped.

“Oh come on, you’re not being slaughtered. It’s just a little warming of your backside.”

“It hurts though,” I complained but followed her into the living room nonetheless.

“It needs to.” She pulled out the chair, just like the day before. “You know the drill.”

I swallowed. “All of it?”

“All of it.”

My cheeks grew warm, and my clothes landed in a small pile next to the couch. Standing naked before her felt just as embarrassing as it had yesterday. Then I realized that, different from last evening, she only wore shorts.

“Stop dawdling!” she commanded, and so I draped myself hesitantly over her naked thighs.

Her skin was warm, and the moment my chest touched it, that strange buzz was there too. I closed my eyes, but they sprang open when she ran a hand down over my bum cheek but didn’t stop, stroking the top of my thigh and then even trailing inwards. If she kept on, she’d touch my…

I gasped, “What are you doing?” Her fingertips were touching my pussy lips!

“Does this feel embarrassing?” she asked softly, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Fucking yes! It does!” I protested.

“Good. If we have less time, we’ll need to make it more intense.”

“But… but like this?” My skin burned. Her nails softly trailed over my pubes, and it felt incredibly embarrassing… and nice. I closed my eyes. This couldn’t feel nice!

But then her hand left, if only for a short moment, then it was back with a loud slap, and my world rocked. She didn’t wait between swats either. Like summer rain, they poured down on my poor bum in a torrent, cracking loud and shooting heat through my backside in waves.

“Owwww!” I whimpered, and at about the tenth swat, my cheeks were wet and my eyes blurry.

She didn’t let up. On and on the swats fell, shook me, made spots of pain explode on my bum. My body rocked forward and backward in a fast rhythm, and suddenly I was intensely aware that my breasts were still pressing down on her thigh, and every rocking motion made them rub against them. I felt my nipples grow hard, and the heat spread from my bum down between my thighs.

“Noooo,” I whimpered between wails of pain.

She stopped. Her hand started to softly stroke my bum cheeks, and I sniffled.

“There, all done,” she declared and pinched my bum softly.

“Thank god,” I groaned and righted myself.

“Thank whom?” Becca asked with a slightly mischievous undertone.

“Thank you, Becca.” A fresh blush shot into my cheeks, because I suddenly felt the moist, heated state of my pussy. She hadn’t seen this, had she? “I’ll… I’ll go to bed early tonight, I think.”

She smiled at me. “Perhaps that’s a good idea. And give your bum a bit of time to cool down.”

I nodded eagerly. “Yeah. That. Have a nice evening, and sleep tight!”

“You too.”

I was glad that I could finally turn around, and I just picked up the pile of discarded clothes and traipsed hurriedly across the living room and up the stairs to my room. When the door fell shut behind me, I dropped the clothes again and leaned my back against the it. My breath flew. This couldn’t be happening!

But it was happening, and the heat in my pussy didn’t want to recede. I had gotten horny like hell from being spanked by my female roommate!

“Fuck!” I declared to the room and hurried across to close the drapes. I switched on the small lamp on the nightstand and extinguished the ceiling light. Sitting down on the bed drew a pained groan from me, but the small twinges from my backside at the contact shot directly into my pussy too. I had to do something about it, and I had to do it now.

I lay back and spread my legs. Normally, I’d tease myself slowly, starting at the tops of my thighs, then work my way up over my pussy lips until I gently teased a finger in between.

Not tonight. Tonight, I simply reached down, spread my lips, coated my index finger with the copious juices already glistening there and started to rub my clit in circles.

“Fuck! Yes!” It was like a button to start the engine, and I felt it growl and tremble between my legs. I stuck a finger inside, not in the slow, gentle way as usual, but hard and fast and all the way.

My back arched. I pistoned my finger in and out, felt my slick walls try to grip it. “God!” I moaned. “Fuck, fuck!”

Images of myself appeared in my mind, draped over Becca’s lap, wiggling and kicking and sobbing, but my face wasn’t in agony, no, it was contorted in bliss. I pushed a second finger inside and felt wonderfully stretched. I groaned with pleasure.

I could see my buttocks shake under every swat in my minds eye, I could see the red color spread all over it, and it had to look fucking sexy. I was getting closer and closer and started to flick my clit hard and fast.

There it came, that delicious, tightening pull in my nipples, that clenching in my pussy, and my fingers flew faster and faster, and the image in my mind… was one of Becca completely naked as well, her beautiful, firm breasts shaking with every swat she delivered.

I came. I think I cried out loud, but I couldn’t care. My hips rocked upwards, again and again, and I rode the waves of pleasure all the way.

I felt wonderful, dizzy, like flying. And I had just had one of the best orgasms of my life - while I had fantasized about my female roommate.

I clenched both hands over my pussy and rolled up into a ball on my side. I couldn’t think about this now. I closed my eyes, focused on the lovely, warm tingles between my legs and dozed off.

* * * *

At breakfast, my cup of coffee was the most interesting thing in the world - or at least, that was how it had to appear to Becca. I couldn’t look her in the eyes, because as soon as I did, my naughty thoughts from last night sprung up and made me blush and stutter. So I sat silently, slurping my coffee and trying not to think that thought.

“I’ve thought about it,” Becca suddenly stated.

I had to look up at her, and my cheeks exploded with color. I hoped that she wouldn’t notice in the dim morning light. “Yes?”

“I don’t think spanking you after you smoked is going to work.”

“Oh.” There was a bit relief, but strangely, the idea of not received her painful, embarrassing swats to my bum was disappointing. I shouldn’t have worried.

“Yes. But tell me, did you feel the need to smoke after I spanked you?”

No, I felt the need to rub my pussy raw instead. I swallowed hard, feeling close to sweating. “Uhm, no.”

She clapped her hand, and I nearly spilled my coffee. “Perfect. Then I know what we’ll do.”

“Yes?” I asked cautiously.

“It’s easy, I’ll give you preventive spankings. We’ll get your bum heated up every, let’s say, two hours, to keep you from smoking.” She grinned brightly at me.

I flinched. “Every two hours?”

She nodded sagely. “Every two hours sharp. You’ll come to me on your own, undress without prompting. I’ve got work to do too, so it would only be courteous not to waste my time, don’t you think?”

“Uhm, of course,” I had to agree. Oh god! Every two hours! My bum would be a constant well of pained heat!

Her eyes traveled upwards, to the spot above the door where the clock hung, and I got a sinking feeling. “We can start now.”

“Now?”

She glared at me. I hadn’t even finished my first cup of coffee and was still half asleep, but here I was, slowly shedding my pajamas and walking around the table on shaky legs to drape myself over her lap.

She walloped my bum thoroughly, or at least so it felt. It was burning hotly and stinging like a bitch by the time she was done, and when I stood back up, her face was flushed and her hair tousled.

“Ten sharp,” she reminded me while I slipped back into my pajamas, “don’t forget it.”

“I won’t,” I replied with a small voice.

* * * *

I don’t think I ever had so many orgasms as this Tuesday. Every two hours, I’d traipse downstairs, undress in silence and place my body over Becca’s thighs to get my naked bum swatted until I cried.

And every time afterwards, I had to control myself to keep from racing back up the stairs, but as soon as I was in the safety of my room, my fingers danced through my already wet folds and gave me the most intense, wonderful feelings.

Wednesday was mostly the same, with a small - or not-so-small - change. When I was about to receive my ten-o’clock spanking, Becca suddenly looked at me with a thoughtful expression. “You know, Miranda,” she said slowly, “why don’t you undress before you come down? It would save me a little time, and it would help drive the point home.”

I wasn’t sure what point she was talking about. But the pleasant buzz, now a constant companion, made me agree hastily. “Of course, Becca. You’re right.”

“Perfect. Now get over my lap!”

* * * *

It was for my four o’clock spanking when I entered the living room, completely starkers as we had agreed, when I froze in my tracks.

Next to Becca sat a blonde woman her age and looked at me with wide eyes.

“Oh god!” I gasped and hastily covered my tits and pussy, and I prayed that the ground would open up and swallow me whole.

But, to my mortification, Becca just gave a soft giggle. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. Jenny, this is Miranda, my roommate. She has a little problem which needs a bit of an, uhm, unorthodox cure. Miranda, this is Jenny, my editor. Don’t be rude, come over and greet her.”

“But… but… I’m…” I stammered.

“What did we talk about embarrassment?” Becca hissed.

I started to tremble. She wasn’t expecting me to expose myself to her guest, was she? She was. Her eyes narrowed to slits.

My skin exploded in prickling heat, but I slowly lowered my arms and took a hesitant step towards the couch. Two pairs of expectant eyes followed my every move, and my knees wobbled.

Jenny was pretty. She had a nice tan and wore a light, white summer dress. Her black curls shimmered in the light, and on a finely chiseled nose sat dark rimmed glasses which made her look sophisticated. In comparison with her, I felt clumsy and insignificant.

My arm shook when I held it out to her. I managed to croak, “Hello, Jenny,” before my voice gave out.

She gripped my hand and smiled at me. Her eyes roamed up and down my body with unconcealed interest. “Nice to meet you, Miranda,” she greeted back, but she didn’t seem inclined to let go of my hand. “You’re working for Joelle, aren’t you?”

I nodded. Yes, I was, at least until Monday. I couldn’t tell her that, though.

“I love the things she does with makeup. You have to be talented, she only hires the best.”

I blushed. “I’m… I’m still learning.”

“I’m sure you’re quite good yourself.” She let go of my hand, but her fingertips trailed over my palm.

The buzz got stronger.

“Miranda.”

I ripped my gaze from Jenny and looked at Becca. She was impatiently patting her lap. My breath started to fly. She really wanted to spank me in front of Jenny. “Please?” I whispered imploringly.

She answered with barely perceptible shake of her head and tapped her thigh again.

I groaned quietly, and the flush on my skin intensified. I could have run back up to my room. But I hadn’t smoked a single cigarette since Becca had established these “preventive spankings”, and I couldn’t afford to fall back into my habit.

I bent over her lap, caught my weight on my arms, closed my eyes and tried to forget that my naked backside was lewdly sticking up just an arm’s length from Jenny.

“You’re going to spank her?” Jenny’s voice was full of wonder.

“Yes, she has a bad habit, and this appears to be the only thing that works in keeping her from it.”

I realized that she didn’t say what my habit was. It could be anything. I suddenly felt dizzy. I was stark naked, spread over the thighs of my beautiful roommate. The conclusions Jenny would undoubtedly come to weren’t hard to imagine.

But it was too late. A mighty slap echoed in the room, and my body shook forward. A long, drawn-out protest left my throat, and fiery heat shot through my backside.

Becca spanked me long and hard, as if making a show of it for Jenny’s sake, whose eyes I could feel on me and add to my embarrassment. I whined and sobbed and wailed when particularly hard swats rocked my backside, and the forbidden buzz between my legs grew stronger and stronger. I panted hard, and I feared that I would come from the spanking alone. I almost sobbed with relief when Becca stopped, glad that I didn’t give them that spectacle, but when I tried to get up, her hand on my lower back stopped me.

“Stay like this a little longer,” she instructed. “We’ve discovered that both the pain of the spanking and the embarrassment of the situation work in tandem in keeping her from her habit.”

“And you spank her every day?”

“Every two hours.”

Jenny gasped. “Really? And it’s not doing any damages?”

“None at all. Here, you can feel for yourself.”

I froze.

“I don’t know if I should…”

“Nonsense. I told you that embarrassment is a part of it. It’ll even help in curing her.”

“Are you sure? She won’t mind?”

Becca giggled. “She will mind, but she knows it’s for her benefit. Touch it - in fact, touch everywhere you like.”

I couldn’t believe this! But then cool fingers were on my bum, and - they felt wonderful. My breath hitched. They roamed all over my backside, gently stroking, pressing a little, and I couldn’t contain the pleasured gasps. This seemed to encourage her, because her fingers roamed dangerously close to the cleft between my buttocks, then lower and lower.

My legs stiffened. She wouldn’t?

“Yes, that’s okay. Like I told you, everywhere,” I heard Becca answer an unspoken question.

Then the fingers delved unashamedly between my thighs, and a sob of embarrassment ripped from my throat when the gently parted my pussy lips.

“Oh.” Jenny’s whisper was quiet, but I heard it, and I knew the reason. Blood rushed in my ears like thunderous waterfalls. “She’s wet.”

“Really?”

The fingers rubbed back and forth. “Sopping.”

I moaned. Shit! A wet, slippery fingertip found my clit and rubbed in teasing circles. My thighs started to tremble.

“You’re getting off on the spanking?” Becca wanted to know, but I couldn’t admit that.

“Tell me!” she ordered sharply.

I tried to stay quiet. Another fingertip pushed against my entrance and found no real resistance. Ever so slowly, Jenny’s thumb entered my pussy, and my breath started to race.

“Yes!” I admitted. “Fuck, yes! I’m horny like hell!”

Jenna’s thumb started to piston in and out of my pussy, and her index finger rubbed my clit faster and faster. I couldn’t resist, it felt so good. I started to moan loudly.

The fingers withdrew, and I mewled in protest. A sharp slap landed on my bum. “Up you get,” Becca told me as if nothing special had happened.

I righted myself, legs shaking and chest heaving. I was so close to the edge, ready to lose myself in a mind-shattering climax. Heated, embarrassed need pulsed in my pussy, and I felt my juices trickle down my thighs.

Becca and Jenny both grinned at me.

Jenny turned to Becca. “So that’s where you get your material!”

Becca giggled. “It’s a first - but, yes, this is going to make one hell of a story.”

“Story?” The wheels in my mind finally started to turn again. “Story! You’re going to write about this?”

“Why yes, it’s what I do.”

“Write stories about your roommates?”

“Oh, calm down. I write spanking stories.”

My breath hitched and my eyes widened. “So it’s all been a ruse? You used me to get a kinky story?”

I tried to take a step back, but Becca’s hand shot out and gripped mine. “Don’t be silly. When was the last time you smoked a cigarette?”

I stared at her, hard. “Fuck.” She was right. It had been almost two days by now.

“See?”

I relaxed, as much as you can when you’re standing naked in front of two clothed women, one of whom you don’t even know but who has just recently masturbated you almost to the point of no return.

“God,” I whimpered, “this is so embarrassing!”

This made both of them giggle again, which didn’t help at all.

Becca tilted her head. “You want to come, don’t you? I bet you’ve been sneaking into your room and diddled your snatch after every spanking, haven’t you?”

My cheeks turned crimson. I could only nod.

“Well, go on then.”

“What?” My voice sounded strangled. “Here? Now?”

She nodded. “Sit on the edge of the table and show us what you did with that naughty snatch.”

Her eyes sparkled. Jenny looked at me full of hunger. And when I placed my bum on the edge of the table and spread my legs, a light bulb lit in my mind and I was suddenly pretty sure that Becca’s stories didn’t involve men.

I spread my thighs. I pulled my pussy lips apart. Jenna’s lips formed into a pretty, impatient pout. My fingers knew what to do.

Jenny and Becca leaned forward, and then I felt their fingers roam over my thighs. Sparks exploded wherever they touched. I pushed two fingers deep inside and flicked my clit hard.

“Oh my god!”

“You’re beautiful!” Jenny whispered and trailed her fingernails down the insides of my thighs.

“Show us how you finger-fuck yourself!” Becca urged and did the same.

I exploded. My pussy clenched around my fingers and sent pulses of pleasure through me. My legs gave way and I slid to the floor, shaking and moaning, ending up rolled into a ball at their feet, two fingers buried all the way inside my snatch. I shook with delightful sparks.

When I had caught back my breath and my endorphin levels had gone down far enough to form a rational thought, I wanted to vanish on the spot. I slowly got to my feet, trying not to look at the faces of my roommate and her editor.

“Miranda?” Becca’s voice was soft.

“Hm?” I bit my lip.

“Why don’t you take a seat between us. I think we need to talk.”

I sent her a short glance. “You mean, like this?” I gestured down my naked body.

“There will be nothing we haven’t seen, will there?”

“I guess not.” I sat down. They didn’t shift apart, so I was squeezed in between them, their legs and upper bodies touching me.

“I think we crossed a line,” Becca admitted.

I almost giggled. This was absurd. “A line you had planned to cross all along,” I shot back.

“Not… not all along.” Her fingers touched my chin and turned my face toward her. “At first, I really just wanted to try and scare you away from smoking with the spanking idea. But you reacted so… cute.” Her eyes closed for a moment. “And things somehow just seemed to go from there. If you had asked me to stop, I would have.” She looked hard into my eyes. “You never did.”

I tried to hold her gaze, but she appeared to look right through my self-delusions. I swallowed hard. “I guess I didn’t.”

“And your pussy was dripping every time.”

I blushed. I tried to turn away, but she held my chin and clucked her tongue. I whispered, “It was.”

“And I bet it still is.” She started to lean forward, closer and closer.

My breath started to fly. She was going to… For a moment, my eyes grew wide, but then my lips parted on their own volition, welcomed hers which pressed against them soft and warm and delicious, sending little sparks through mine.

I moaned, and her tongue entered my mouth, hungry, searching, and my arms wrapped around her while hers buried themselves in my hair. I had never been kissed like this before, possessive, intense, and I melted in her arms.

When we had to come up for air, I remembered that Jenny was still there.

Becca read my embarrassed look easily. “Jenny’s not just my editor,” she whispered into my ear. “She’s also my lover.”

“Your… lover?”

“Yes. And we’d like to share you. Would you like that?”

I was speechless. Did I want that? The idea was so forbidden that I instantly felt guilty. But then my mind weaved pictures of Becca and Jenny, naked, on her bed, and myself between them. We were kissing and touching each other everywhere. “Yes!” I moaned.

* * * *

We slept little that night, all three of us. Jenny’s body was just as beautiful as Becca’s, and they were both demanding and skilled lovers. They brought me to the edge time and time again, and they taught me to lick their pussies just the way they liked it. My first lick was hesitant, but I found that I enjoyed the musky taste immensely. By the time we managed to drift off for a short nap before breakfast, my face and upper body, even my hair was sticky with their honey.

We had breakfast in the living room that morning, snuggled up on the couch, each of us in her own dream world.

A thought occurred to me. “What about my job?”

“What do you mean?” Becca asked.

“I… I think I swapped one addiction for another.”

She giggled, and I pouted. This was no laughing matter. I told her so.

“Hey, slow down, honey,” she told me and stroked my cheek. “I think… oh yes, I do think this may even work to your advantage.”

“How so?” I asked, slowly feeling more alert after two cups of coffee.

“Well, Joelle - I got to know her at a reading of my first book. My first spanking book.”

“You mean...”

“She has a thing for spanking pretty girls too, yes. I don’t think she’d mind seeing to your needs.”

“You’d be okay with that?”

“As long as you let me smack your cute backside in the evenings, I wouldn’t mind.”

A dreadful thought occurred to me though. “But what if…” My cheeks flushed deep red, and looked at the floor. “...in the heat of the moment, you know?”

“You mean,” she whispered into my ear, and I felt her hand slide over my tummy and between my thighs, “what if she takes advantage of your dripping snatch and horny state and touched you?” Her finger sneaked into my opening. “Or more? Like making you lick her pretty pussy right in her office?”

Focusing became hard. “Huh-huh. Oh fuck!”

Her finger started to move in and out. Something warm and wet closed deliciously around my right nipple. “Then you’d have to tell me all about it once you get home. If you came at work, I’d spank you extra hard.”

Teeth gently bit my nipple and pulled. I arched my back. Another finger entered me, and the heat in my pussy skyrocketed. “Oh god!”

“She seems to like the idea,” Jenny purred, letting go of my nipple with her mouth and stroking it with her fingers instead.

“You think,” I tried to say, but Jenny’s tongue traveled up the side of my neck, wet and hot, and I almost lost track of my thoughts. “You think she’d like that?”

“I think she would.” Becca started to rub my clit with enough force to send the sparkles deep into my loins. “But why don’t we invite her over tonight, so she can get a picture of our ‘therapy’, what do you think?”

My pussy clenched hard around her fingers and my hips rocked. My head tilted back and I closed my eyes, lost in a sea of pleasure. I moaned and grunted and shook.

“I guess that’s a yes,” an amused voice sounded from very far away.