College Spanking In The Dorm: Student Spanks Cheeky Roommate
This is a fictional story that is only allowed to be read from the age of 18
Table of Contents
Roommate Loses Patience With The Playful Brat
It started like it always does: I was being annoying. Not mean—just too loud, too sharp, too much. Anna was trying to finish her paper. I kept interrupting. First with questions, then with music, then with a comment I probably shouldn’t have made.
“Be useful or get out,” she said at one point.
I grinned, sitting on the kitchen counter, juice box in hand like a kid.
“You sound like my mom.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Then I guess she didn’t spank you nearly enough.”
I just smirked. Thought she was joking. But she stood up, calm and steady. No smile. Her walk was firm, deliberate. I backed away, slowly.
She didn’t say another word. Just grabbed my wrist, spun me around, and guided me toward the living room.
“Anna, come on… wait!”
“No. Enough. You need another reminder.”
I squirmed a little. But not much. A part of me already knew exactly where this was going. And even as I protested, I let her lead me. Straight to the big couch. She sat down and pulled me right across her lap.
Playful Student Ends Up Bare-Bottomed Over the Knee
My belly rested on her thigh, my face down in the cushion, hands braced against the floor. My shirt had ridden up, baring most of my butt, the thin fabric of my panties stretched tight across the center.
I wiggled, tried to push up, but she held me firmly in place with one strong arm wrapped around my hips.
“You know how this goes,” she said softly.
Then the first slap landed.
I gasped. It wasn’t gentle. Not rough either—just firm. Sure. The second followed fast. Then another. A clear, steady rhythm filled the room, each smack purposeful and direct.
She focused first on the right cheek, then the left. Then two right in the center. Heat bloomed quickly. I could feel my bottom warming, stinging. I kicked a little, tried to squirm away but her grip didn’t budge.
“Same story every time,” she murmured. “Too cute to be truly bad. But way too cheeky to let it slide.”
A particularly sharp swat hit just at the curve of my cheeks, right where the fabric of my panties stopped. I yelped. My toes dug into the rug.
Cute Kitten Panties Slide Down A Burning Bottom
Then she paused. I took a deep breath. Thought maybe that was it.
But her hand slid down my back – slow, steady – and found the waistband of my panties.
She tugged them down just an inch before stopping.
“What are you even wearing today?” she muttered. I felt her pinch the fabric lightly between her fingers.
“What?” I asked, breathless.
“Kittens? Pink cartoon kittens on your grown-up little butt?”
I shut my eyes. Right. That pair. Soft cotton, bright pink, covered in little playful cats. I’d worn them as a joke. For comfort. Not because I thought anyone would see them today. And definitely not because I thought someone would be pulling them down.
“How appropriate,” she said flatly.
And then the panties slipped. Slowly. Down over the curve of my butt. They caught for a moment on the warmth of my skin, then she tugged them all the way down, leaving them bunched around my thighs.
My bare butt was fully exposed now. And already stinging.
“Little kittens get little spankings,” she said. “But you’ve been a real brat today.”
College Spanking In The Dorm: Serious Paddle Meets Playful Little Bottom
She stood up for a moment, letting me lie there across the couch, bare and warm and stinging. I heard her open the drawer. I knew what was coming.
The paddle. Smooth, flat leather. Black, wide, and heavy. She didn’t use it every time. Only when I’d really earned it.
She sat back down and pulled me back over her lap.
I held my breath.
The first swat landed deep. Heavy. I cried out softly. The second came lower, right along the crease. I jumped.
Then a pause. Her hand rested on my red skin before the next blow came.
The paddle worked differently than her hand—thicker, slower, with a thudding sting that sank in deep. I could feel my skin swell, heat rising with every strike. I tried to close my legs, to twist away—but her arm held me exactly where she wanted me.
“Do you think I do this for fun?” she asked.
I wanted to answer but couldn’t. A hard swat hit the lower right cheek. I whimpered. Tears welled up in my eyes. Not just from the pain, but the humiliation. That silly kitten print, still wrapped around my thighs, felt suddenly so childish, so embarrassing. So exposed.
“Next time you pick panties like this, you better be ready for someone to treat you like the bratty little kitten you are,” she said.
I whimpered again. The paddle didn’t stop.
Gentle Hands Soothe The Spanked Kitten Bottom
When the last swat landed, I didn’t move.
My bottom burned. Every inch of skin felt hot, raw, sensitive. My cheeks – all of them – were on fire.
I just lay there, limp, breathing fast.
Then she set the paddle aside. Her hand touched me again—but not to spank. Just to soothe. Slow, gentle circles over the sorest spots. Fingertips drifting along the curves, pressing lightly into the hot flesh.
“There. Much better.”
I nodded weakly. Couldn’t speak. Her thumbs kneaded slowly into the lowest parts of my butt, where the paddle had hit hardest. Then lower—where the fabric of the panties still hung, bunched and useless.
She tugged them gently off my legs.
“These,” she said, folding them in half, “you’ll only get back when you learn how to behave.”
I heard the fabric rustle. Then her hands returned—firm now, steady. Holding me. Grounding me.
I lay there, still, exposed, quiet. My skin burning, my breath shallow. Her body so close. Her control so total.
And somewhere deep in my chest, that same slow-burning heat again. That quiet feeling that this… thiswas exactly where I was meant to be.
