Spanking In A Retirement Home: Grandpa Spanks Female Intern
This is a fictional story that is only allowed to be read from the age of 18
Table of Contents
The Sexy Intern Gets Caught Slacking Off
Clara was slow today. Not stubborn, just careless. In the tea kitchen, she had missed the checklist Mr. Falk had written for her in neat, clear letters:
“Open the window. Sort the files. Pick up the medication, don’t forget.”
She forgot anyway. And as she wandered through the hallway with an empty look on her face, Mr. Falk saw her from his doorway. Arms crossed behind his back. Eyes calm, but not kind.
“Clara.” She froze. His voice wasn’t loud. But she knew instantly: she’d messed up.
“M-Mr. Falk, I… I was just about to…”
“Save it. Come here.”
“Where to?”
He didn’t answer. He simply turned and walked into his room. Clara hesitated, then followed him with a tight throat. The door was open. He stood by the window. Then he pointed to the low bench in front of it.
“Don’t sit. Bend over.”
“Please… I didn’t mean to…”
“You had clear instructions. You ignored them. I’m tired of repeating myself.”
Old Man Pulls The Intern Over His Knee
Clara wanted to protest, but his look said no. And so did his hands.
He took her by the waist, spun her around, and sat himself down in the wide leather chair. In one movement, she was across his knee.
Clara was light, she fit perfectly over his lap. Her hands touched the floor for balance, her upper body dipped forward, her bottom raised, tense, tight, perfectly presented.
“If you’re old enough for a placement,” he said calmly, “you’re old enough to learn what consequences feel like.”
She was wearing slim gray work pants and a white cotton panty underneath. The fabric stretched tight across her round, soft backside. Mr. Falk placed his large, firm hand on it, warm through the cloth.
Then he pulled her pants down. Slowly.
Clara whimpered softly. The fabric slid over her hips, then over her bottom. Her cheeks popped free… Soft, pale, vulnerable. Her panties stayed up only a moment longer. Then he tugged those down, too. Her breathing caught.
“There. Now you’ll learn what responsibility feels like.”
Spanking In The Retirement Home: Grandpa Spanks Young Woman
The first smack echoed clearly in the room. Clara jolted. Her bottom jumped. Then came the second. Sharper, on the right cheek. Her legs flinched, toes curled.
“Ow! Please!”
“Imagine trying to sit down after slacking off like that.” Smack. Smack. Smack.
The blows came steadily, each one exact. Her cheeks quickly turned from pink to red.
Each cheek got special attention, sometimes alternating, sometimes back-to-back. Clara panted, her fingers clutching the rug. Her breath grew uneven.
“I-I can’t!”
“You can. And you will.”
Her bottom bounced with every swat. His palm was broad, heavy, unyielding. The heat built steadily. Clara began to whimper. Her soft round cheeks now glowed a firm, even red.
Then his eyes drifted to the windowsill. There it lay. A wooden hairbrush. Smooth. Heavy. He reached for it without a word.
Hairbrush Spanking On The Bare Bottom
“If the hand isn’t enough,” he said, “we’ll try this.”
Clara gasped. “Please no… not that…!” But he already had it. The hairbrush fit perfectly in his grip. He tapped it once against her reddened cheek. Then he brought it down.
Crack. Clara yelped. Her legs kicked. Crack. Crack. Crack.
“Please! Please!”
“Too late for begging.” The brush didn’t play around. It hit sharper, deeper, more punishing. Her bottom jumped with each strike, her hips twisting to get away. Mr. Falk was ready and his strong arm held her down tight.
And then her voice cracked. Crack. Crack.
She broke into tears. At first, a whimper. Then a choked sob. Then full, quiet crying. Her shoulders trembled. Her legs gave up. Her bottom was burning. A deep, even red, with darker marks where the brush had landed.
He let the brush rest against her hot skin. Her sobs filled the silence.
“Now you understand what it means to ignore instructions.” She nodded. Again and again.
Spanking And Tears: Naughy Girl Cries Over The Knee
Mr. Falk set the brush down. Ran his hand over her back. Then helped her slowly stand up. Her legs wobbled.
Her pants and panties were still down around her thighs.
“Pull them up. Slowly.”
She obeyed, trembling. Every inch of fabric brushing her bottom made her flinch. Tears still ran down her cheeks. She didn’t wipe them away.
Mr. Falk stood up. Tall, composed, still.
“You’re not here to just be pleasant. You’re here to learn. And you’ll learn either the easy way… or the hard way.”
Clara nodded, voice barely a whisper.
“Yes… I understand.”
“Good. Then you won’t forget.”
She left his room with her head bowed. Her bottom hidden but still on fire. Eyes still wet. And the marks from the brush? They’d be there for a while.
