Outdoor spankings on the Pennines

I don't know about you but I find an out-of-door spanking rather a pleasant experience. I doubt if many of the recalcitrant females who have found themselves upended in a semi-public spot would agree, but it serves them right for behaving badly.

The first time I ever administered an al fresco correction was when I was in my late teens. People matured a lot quicker in those days and I had been working for two years by the time I met Julie, who was about 18 at the time. As I had just got my first car I celebrated by taking her up to the Pennines that separate the beautiful county of Lancashire from the tribal reserve that sits on the eastern side of the hills.

We spent most of the early afternoon in a pub before we left and walked up a pathway that started at the side of the building and ran up over the top of a hill. When we got to the top we spent some time smoking a cigarette each and admiring the view.

Neither of us was dressed for hiking, Julie had on a grey dress with a belt around the waist and low heeled shoes. Still, they were city shoes so I objected mildly when she announced that she wished to continue climbing the path along and then up to a much higher hill. I pointed out that the path was unpaved at that point and much steeper, but I might as well have been talking to one of the sheep that were all around us for all the attention she paid me.

She strode off and started her climb, with me following on shaking my head at the foolishness of it all. Sure enough madam slipped and twisted her ankle so I had to pick her up and carry her the hundred yards or so back to the rock. I sat her on my knee and let her complain about the ankle and the state of the path, before eventually and in some exasperation I remarked that none of it would have happened had she listened to me in the first place.

"Now don't be unreasonable, darling," she purred, twisting her ankle from side to side as it recovered from its twist.

"I am not being unreasonable, I am being sensible," was my reply. "Now stay where you are until you recover and we shall walk back to the car."

You cannot talk to some women. Julie got to her feet, stuck her tongue out at me, and then started walking off back up the path. I grabbed her arm and pulled her back to the rock. "Let go of me," she said in a voice that was quietly wilful. "I can look after myself."

She began to twist and wriggle to free herself from my grasp and then when she realised that this was not going to work she bit my hand, not hard, but enough to cause me to loosen my grip. As soon as I did that she walked off with a look of triumph on her face.

I wan't going to debate this matter any more. Two steps got me just behind her and I seized her arm and marched her back to the rock. Sitting down I pulled her across my knees and gave her two firm smacks to the rump. Then I pulled the dress up to reveal a firm pair of buttocks nicely clad in white cotton panties.

Julie kicked and bucked like a wild bronco, and the only way to hold her in position was to cross my right leg over both her thighs and hang on for dear life. Since she had put both hands behind her back to protect her already smarting rump, I had to jam her left arm behind me and hold her right one at an angle in the small of her back. There wasn't time to get the knickers down - the struggling was so ferocious that I knew that if this young madam was not corrected immediately she would have broken free and I would have been humiliated by my failure.

I gave her about a dozen smacks, alternating one cheek with the other. Each one was well laid on and caused her to yell at the top of her voice as the discipline proceeded. The struggles never abated and I felt that I was losing control of her so having completed a good twelve slaps I pushed her off my knee and onto the ground. It was better to let her think that her spanking had ended because I chose to bring it to a close, rather than give her the victory of breaking free herself.

Julie sat on the ground and rubbed her bottom with a look of fury on her face. I noticed that tears were about to break out so I sat quietly and smoked another cigarette whilst I waited for her to compose herself. Stubbing out the end of my smoke, I stood up and motioned for Julie to rise: "Come along, we are going back to town," I told her.

Julie was quiet on the way home and kept her eyes down throughout the journey. She sat sideways in her seat and as the journey progressed her hands were drawn to her bottom, to rub and stroke it in the hope of easing the fire that I had lit under her skirt. Although I didn’t realise it at the time she was obviously mulling over the day’s events in her mind and coming to a conclusion about me in the process.

I suppose that I must have thought that I would drop her off at home and that would be the end of things, but when we reached Julie’s house she reached over and brushed my cheek with her hand before turning to her left to open the car’s door.

“Let’s go inside,” she said, quietly.


The house was empty and as soon as the door closed Julie put her arms around my neck. I held her close and since she kept her head down I turned it up to kiss her. Then I gently stroked her bottom and as she felt my hand on it again her mouth opened to protest and I saw a look of fear flash across her face.

“Don’t worry,” I reassured her. “So long as you are a good girl your bottom is safe with me.”

Julie smiled: “I want to be a good girl,” she replied, softly.

We were standing in the hallway and I glanced upstairs and motioned to her that we should climb them. She understood and nodded at me, before leading me to her bedroom.

Once there we undressed each other, then she folded back the bed covers and she climbed into bed, to lie there quite submissively until I joined her a moment later.

Lying next to each other I put an arm under her head, and reached down between her thighs with the other one. Julie was wet, and warm, and very, very ready.

“Are you always this available?”

“No,” she pouted; as I pushed her onto her back before lifting myself up to mount her.

She exhaled loudly as my cock slid into her body and I began the slow, steady rhythmic thrusts into her.

“I want to be a good girl,” Julie whispered in my ear. “Tell me; tell me what you did to me when I was bad. Please, tell me what you did.”

So I told her. Quietly, in her ear, as I thrust my hardness into her, I told her how I had spanked her. How I put her over my knee and lifted her skirt, how I had pulled her knickers down and disciplined her. Of course I left out the fact that I only half pulled her panties down and I thought it better to draw a veil over the little matter of only being able to give her a lighter spanking than she deserved because of her kicking, but I don’t think that Julie cared about such minor details:

“I was bad, she repeated, over and over again, until eventually she came, followed seconds later by my own shuddering climax

“But I’m a good girl now!”