Coffee Spanking: Landlord Spanks Clumsy Maid On The Bare Ass
This is a fictional story that is only allowed to be read from the age of 18
Table of Contents
Naughty Maid Drops The Dish
The hallway echoed with the soft click of heels on polished wood. Anna moved carefully, balancing a silver tray with fresh coffee, two porcelain cups, and a small plate of butter biscuits. Everything gleamed. Her employer, Mr. Falkenberg, demanded perfection.
She turned the corner into the grand library, where he sat in a leather chair, reading the morning paper. Sunlight poured through the tall windows. Rows of books lined the walls, the room smelling of dust, wood, and ink.
“Your coffee, sir,” Anna said softly.
He barely looked up.
She bent forward to place the tray gently on the side table—when it happened.
A faint scrape. A soft crash. The sound of porcelain splitting.
One saucer had slipped. It shattered neatly in two on the floor. The cup landed upright, but the biscuit had scattered into crumbs.
Anna froze.
Mr. Falkenberg folded his paper slowly, his gaze finally meeting hers. Cold. Measured.
“What was that, girl?”
“I’m sorry, sir… it was an accident.” Her voice wavered.
She crouched to pick up the pieces, her fingers trembling. She could feel his stare.
“An accident,” he said quietly, rising from his chair. “I think we’ve spoken before about consequences.”
Her stomach twisted. “Yes, sir.”
He came around the desk in a few slow, deliberate steps. She remained kneeling, until he grasped her upper arm and pulled her up.
“We don’t tolerate carelessness in this house.”
Before she could plead, he was already seated again and dragging her beside him. In one swift motion, he turned her and pulled her over his knee.
“Please, wait-” she began, but her voice was cut off as he yanked up her skirt.
Landlord Pulls Her Skirt Up And Her Panties Down
The soft black fabric slid up her thighs, then her hips, revealing the pale sheen of gray tights stretched over her bottom. Her legs trembled.
He didn’t pause.
His fingers hooked into the waistband of her tights, tugging them down with steady force. The material rasped softly against her skin as it slid lower, gathering behind her knees. Her panties, a thin pair of lace-trimmed cotton, followed immediately after, peeled down in a single, merciless motion.
Now her bare ass lay exposed: Smooth, vulnerable, framed by the bunched fabric at her legs and the lifted skirt.
He rested one hand firmly on the small of her back. She felt the warmth of his palm against her skin.
“You know how I handle mistakes.”
His other hand lifted. The first smack landed sharp across her right cheek.
She gasped. Then came the next, on the left—louder, firmer. The slaps came in pairs, then a steady rhythm. Left, right, left again. Her ass bounced under the blows, reddening quickly under his strong hand.
Her legs jerked. The fabric at her knees held her still. She wriggled, her hips shifting with every strike, but he pinned her firmly with one hand.
“You’ve been warned before.” Smack. “Maybe this will help you remember.” Smack.
The sound filled the room, flesh on flesh, sharp, echoing. Her bottom squirmed helplessly, cheeks bouncing under his relentless palm. He aimed lower now, striking the tender crease between buttock and thigh. She whimpered.
Her skin burned, her face flushed. She bit her lip to stifle a moan, or a sob, she wasn’t sure.
Then, suddenly, he stopped.
Maid Bent Over And Bare Ass Presented
She lay still, breathing fast. Her ass throbbed, hot to the touch. The cool air kissed her raw skin.
“Stand up,” he said.
Her legs wobbled as she rose. The skirt stayed up. Her tights and panties remained tangled around her knees.
“Over there.”
He pointed to the large oak table at the center of the room. She obeyed.
“Bend over. Hands flat.”
She bent slowly, palms on the polished wood, hips tilted, feet apart. Her glowing, punished bottom rose behind her, fully exposed.
He stepped away, and she heard it—the soft creak of the cabinet door. The click of wood on wood.
When he turned back, he held a slender cane.
“Ten strokes.”
She gripped the table.
Coffee Spanking: Striping Her Bottom With The Cane
The first stroke sliced through the air with a sharp hiss. It landed across her cheeks with a crack that rang in her ears.
She flinched violently. A red line flared across her skin, the sting piercing.
The second landed just beneath it. More precise, more painful. Her breath hitched. She blinked back sudden tears.
The third made her moan aloud.
Each strike left its mark, thin, burning stripes spaced perfectly across her ass. Her legs trembled. Her knees buckled slightly, but she didn’t stand. She held the position.
The fourth and fifth landed quickly, making her squirm. The sixth drew a soft cry from her throat.
By the seventh, she was gripping the table so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her hips rocked with each blow, unable to stay still.
Whack.
The eighth stroke landed lower. Her toes curled inside her shoes.
The ninth made her whole body jerk. A tear slipped down her cheek.
The tenth was the hardest. A final, punishing line that forced her to cry out, pushing her hips toward the table as she gasped.
Then silence.
Landlord Spanks Clumsy Maid On The Bare Ass
He stepped close, laying a hand on her back again. Warm. Gentle now.
“Well done,” he murmured.
She said nothing. Just nodded slightly, breathing fast, her thighs trembling.
He reached down and slowly pulled her panties and tights back into place, his hands brushing lightly over her swollen, striped cheeks. Her skirt dropped. Everything looked proper again—except her eyes, her posture, the flush across her face.
“Make a fresh pot of coffee,” he said.
“Yes, sir.”
She turned and walked out of the library, bottom sore and glowing under her clothes, heart racing, the taste of discipline still lingering on her skin.
