F/M Spanking Story Sunday — Coach Ironhand by CS

Once again it’s time for my semi-regular feature, F/M spanking story Sunday. Today I’m featuring a story about a lady coach with a formidable forehand, which might be something to avoid if you are on one of her teams and you ignore the rules. It comes  from a writer known as CS, who sent me this tale and a few others. CS did some writing for SHE whom I mentioned last week. At any rate it’s cracking good story so relax and enjoy.

Art by Redrump, Stephanie Burke, Murlo. Photos by Nu-West, Lina’s House.


“Coach Ironhand” by CS

Jeremy Watson was on the top rung of the social ladder at Shorewood High. A gifted athlete and captain of the baseball team, he could pitch, hit, and field with the best of them. Better yet, with sparkling blue eyes and dark curly hair, Jeremy was already beginning to star in some of the more erotic dreams of his female classmates. In short, he had it made.

With great gifts, however, often goes great pride. As Jeremy began to appreciate both his good looks and his athletic prowess, he also began to believe that ordinary rules no longer applied to him. In particular, he decided to try out chewing tobacco, that standby of baseball players over the decades. He knew, of course, that it was a messy habit and caused cancer, but at his age, everyone lives forever. Besides, none of the other team members dared to try it. They were all too scared of the coach, Amanda Ferris, know by all and sundry (behind her back at least) as “Old Ironhand.”

Amanda had come to Shorewood to teach history right out of college. During her first year, however, the then current baseball coach had a serious heart attack and retired only weeks later. This left Shorewood faced with a problem. The heart of the baseball season was yet to come, and they didn’t have a coach. To everyone’s surprise, Amanda revealed that she had played baseball since childhood, and had only given up going semi-pro when she received an academic scholarship to college. To make a long story short, Amanda got the job and continued as the Shorewood High School baseball coach for the next twenty years.

She picked up the name “Ironhand” from team members who were constantly amazed by her ability to field hot grounders with only her bare hand. She said this made her throws quicker, but no one else cared to risk their fingers even if this was really true. The “Old” part of the nickname came as the years went by and Amanda entered her forties, a decade that is seen as just short of death by most teenagers.

Of course to some, her nickname signified even more than her fielding ability. Amanda was a firm believer is discipline, soundly applied to the seat of the problem. Quite a few of her players over the years (as well as her husband from time to time) experienced her iron hand applied vigorously where it would do the most good. She never used a hairbrush, a strap, or any of the other commonly encountered spanking implements. As any of the men in her charge would freely testify, Amanda’s bare hand, toughened by years of baseball experience, was all that was required to reduce any male to tears of sincere repentance.


Jeremy first experience with Amanda’s displeasure came during his initial experiment with chewing tobacco. One afternoon he filled his lip with a good-sized plug, just as he had seen so many big leaguers do, and proudly marched out to take his place on the pitching mound. Amanda might not have noticed, but the snickers of the rest of the team informed her that something out of the ordinary was going on.

Amanda immediately pulled Jeremy from the game, and ordered him to leave the field and get rid of the tobacco. Turning the team over to her assistant coach, she followed Jeremy into the clubhouse, and delivered a scathing lecture on the dangers of tobacco, and how using it was letting both himself and the rest of the team down. She was very tempted to pursue the point by applying her hard hand to Jeremy’s firm young bottom, but refrained for two reasons. First of all, she was always careful to spank in private. Amanda was happy to provide a hot bottom as needed, but would never embarrass one of her players by paddling him publicly in front of his peers. Second, she was scrupulously fair in passing sentence. Amanda always gave one, and only one, warning before she spanked. Then it was up to the culprit to determine the future of his bottom on his own.

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To this end, she concluded her lecture to Jeremy with the following admonition,

“Jeremy, I don’t care how old you are. If you were my own son and you pulled this, you wouldn’t sit down for a week! And if you ever do anything like this again, I’ll forget that you’re not my son and spank you anyway. This is your one and only warning!”

Although Jeremy tried to look contrite, he didn’t really believe Amanda.

“I’m in high school, for Christ’s sake,” he thought. “If I want to chew tobacco, I will, and no over-the-hill coach can stop me!”

Amanda’s threatened consequence went right into one of Jeremy’s ears and right out the other. He didn’t really know what Amanda would do if she caught him again, and he didn’t really want to know. Jeremy was a firm believer in “what you don’t know can’t hurt you.” Unfortunately for his posterior, he was soon to learn that what you don’t know about Amanda can hurt quite a lot!

About two weeks later, after having taken a certain amount of teasing for being pulled from the game, Jeremy decided the best way to regain his social status on the team was to try out chewing tobacco again. This time he waited until after the game (a victory, by the way) had ended to show off his new skill in the clubhouse.

The rules at Shorewood were simple. With a female coach, stay dressed in the locker room and only get nude in the shower room. Of course, every now and then somebody forgot this and had to scamper for his clothes when Amanda walked through. To avoid the blushes of a bunch of testosterone-laden teenagers, Amanda usually didn’t even enter the locker room until long after the game was over, and everyone was safely showered and dressed again. Today, however, the first baseman had jammed a finger fielding a foul ball, and Amanda wanted to see, as soon as possible, if he required further medical attention.

Amanda walked into the locker room just in time to see Jeremy jam a plug of tobacco into his cheek. As she quietly walked up behind him, the other players present subsided into horrified silence. Jeremy, of course, thought that the lull was simply because everyone was in awe of his daring. To show that he had really mastered the art of the chew, he turned his head and spat tobacco juice casually over his shoulder, unfortunately right onto Amanda’s new white shoes.

If it can ever be said that time stops in its tracks, that is an apt description of the Shorewood High locker room that sunny afternoon. You could have heard a pin drop. Every other young man present paled. Jeremy turned bone white. Amanda, all 5’ 10” of her, looked down at Jeremy with the distaste one usually reserves for cockroaches.

Jeremy began to babble, as he frantically tried to find the right thing to say in the circumstance.

“Coach! I didn’t even see you there! This isn’t what it looks like! One of the other guys dared me! We were just horsing around! Let me clean off your shoes for you!”

Amanda looked at Jeremy silently for a moment, and then walked slowly over to a sink and collected two wet paper towels and a wastebasket.

She held up the wastebasket for Jeremy to spit out his tobacco, and then wiped off his lips with the first paper towel. Amanda then handed the second wet towel to Jeremy and waited patiently while he knelt at her feet and cleaned the tobacco off her shoes.

Amanda spoke in a firm voice. “Jeremy, you and I need to have a little talk about your future with the team. Just now I have to make sure that Bill’s jammed finger is ok, but I’ll expect you in my office in exactly one hour. Don’t be late!”

With that she turned and walked away.

From that moment on, most of the rest of the team acted as if Jeremy had some contagious disease. They hurriedly showered, dressed, and left with scarcely a word for the miscreant. Others, including all those who had previous experience with Coach “Ironhand’s” discipline, just looked at Jeremy and silently shook their heads.

Bill was sent home with an ice pack for his jammed finger, and the rest of the team also departed. Jeremy took a seat outside Amanda’s office, tried to pretend to do his math homework, and waited for the appointed hour of his doom. Precisely on time, Amanda summoned him into her office and motioned for him to be seated across from her desk.

“Well Jeremy,” she began, “Here we are again, I’m sorry to say.”

Jeremy once again began to spew excuses, ranging from “It really wasn’t my fault” to “What right did she have to tell him what to do, anyway!”

Amanda cut him off. “Jeremy, I’ve been a coach for a long time, and I’ve heard it all! I warned you what would happen if I caught you again. You are not walking out of here today without a sound spanking no matter what you do. If you fight it, you are off the team. If you cooperate, you can still play!”

Jeremy tried to bluster. “I’ll tell my parents! I’ll tell the school board! You’ll lose your job!”

“Jeremy,” Amanda answered quietly, “I’ve spanked naughty boys at this school for over twenty years. Do you think there is anyone on the school board who doesn’t know about it? For your information, spanking a misbehaving student is perfectly legal in this state. As for your parents, if you’d like, I’ll call them, and suggest that they come over and give you another spanking when I’m done with you! Make up your mind!”

Jeremy’s mind raced but he didn’t see any way out. Coach had said she was going to spank him no matter what. Worse yet, she was strong enough that he was pretty sure she could do it, no matter how much he resisted. His only chance was to take his medicine willingly, and to hope that no one, not his parents, and especially not his buxom young admirers on the cheerleading squad, ever found out.

“If I cooperate, you won’t tell anybody and I can still play?”

“Yes, Jeremy,” Amanda nodded. “Your spanking, just like all the others I’ve given over the years, will be our little secret. When it’s over, you’ll be welcome back on the team as long as you behave yourself.”

Jeremy sighed and resigned himself to the inevitable. “All right, what do I have to do?”

“For starters,” Amanda’s voice was now very firm, “Go back out to the locker room, strip, and report back here wearing only a fresh jock strap. If you don’t have one, there are some in the back of the drawer below the medical cabinet.”

“Oh my God,” Jeremy was mortified. “I can’t do that. Can’t you just spank me with my pants on?”

“Jeremy,” Amanda’s tone could cut ice, “You, like all naughty boys, are getting spanked on the bare bottom. Now you have exactly one minute to strip, change, and get back here – or I’ll come out and take your pants down for you!”

From the look in Amanda’s eye, Jeremy had no doubt whatsoever that she would carry through on her threat. He fairly scampered back into the locker room and reappeared in the allotted minute, clad only in an athletic supporter that left his muscular fanny entirely bare for the ordeal to come. Jeremy stood with his head bowed, and with his hands clasped in front of him to protect his fledgling modesty.

bad boy

Amanda placed in an armless chair placed in the middle of her office, so that she would have plenty of swinging room. She then took off her jacket, exposing a surprisingly lacy blouse, and seated herself in the chair. Finally, she drew her skirt up just enough for Jeremy to be able to stand between her knees.

“Now, young man, get over here!”

With faltering steps, Jeremy slowly approached his executioner. To him, “Old Ironhand” had always been just an authority figure. Now, for the first time, he also saw her as an attractive woman.

Amanda quickly put an end to these thoughts, however, by pulling Jeremy between her knees and bending him over her left thigh. In this position her right leg prevented any kicking, and Jeremy’s fanny was thrust up into perfect position for the punishment to come. Amanda didn’t start right away, however, as she wanted to Jeremy to have time to consider the full ramifications of his ignominious situation.

“Jeremy,” Amanda ran her hand all over Jeremy’s bottom, “your fanny is even chubbier than I would have thought! And so white too. It will turn nice and red when I spank it!”

Jeremy squirmed across her knee, his face scarlet.

“Aren’t you sorry you’ve earned a paddling just like a little boy? I’ll bet I can make your bottom so hot that you will have to cry like a baby! And I’ll tell you a secret,” Amanda whispered conspiratorially, “I’m not going to stop until you do cry – and wail – and blubber – and promise me you’ll never, never disobey me again!”

By this time, Jeremy would cheerfully have sunk right through the floor rather than listen to Amanda embarrass him any further.

“Oh please, just get it over with!” Jeremy begged.

“Always happy to oblige!” Amanda raised her right hand well above her shoulder level and began to spank.


From Amanda’s point of view, the early smacks were intended only to begin to warm Jeremy’s fanny, and leave a hot pink blush all over his round cheeks. Jeremy, however, immediately realized why they called her Coach “Ironhand.” Even a gentle swat from her hard palm hurt just as much as a solid spank from his mother’s hairbrush, and his ordeal was only beginning.

Amanda spanked slowly, first up one side of Jeremy’s bottom, and then down the other. Much to Jeremy’s continued embarrassment, Amanda pushed the straps of his athletic supporter out of the way from time to time, just to make sure that even the outer curves of his bottom cheeks received their proper reward.

These early spanks stung, but Jeremy knew he could take much worse.

“This isn’t so bad,” he thought, “She can spank all day, but I’ll never give her the satisfaction of seeing me cry!”

Jeremy was basing this conclusion on the spankings he had received from his mother over the years. She also spanked on his bare bottom, and she used a hairbrush and spanked very hard indeed. However, she also only spanked for two or three minutes. It hurt like crazy, and Jeremy always yelled his head off, but he seldom shed more than a few tears. After all, it was over very quickly.


What Jeremy didn’t know, but was about to learn, is that the sting of a couple of minutes of brisk hairbrushing can’t even begin to compare to the fires that can be kindled on a naughty backside by an experienced spanker to whom time just doesn’t matter at all.

Thus, after a couple of minutes, Jeremy expected Amanda to give up and push him off her lap, pink bottomed, but hardly very repentant. Instead, he felt her hard hand continue to paddle him relentlessly, warming again and again areas of his posterior that were becoming more tender by the second. Jeremy tried to struggle against the mounting discomfort, but found that with his legs firmly pinioned and with his face pushed down almost to the floor there was absolutely nothing he could do except take his punishment.

Now Amanda began to spank back and forth across Jeremy’s bottom, first swatting one cheek and then the other. She noted with satisfaction that Jeremy’s rear was turning from pink to a dusky red, and that his nether cheeks were beginning to squirm from side to side in a futile attempt to avoid her chastising hand.


Intent on doing a really thorough job, Amanda now spanked up and down Jeremy’s thighs in addition to continuing to swat his buttocks. She was rewarded by several audible gasps as she soundly smacked that tender area where hips meet thigh.

“Excellent,” she thought, “now he’s really starting to pay attention!”

By this time Jeremy’s bottom cheeks were beginning to glow a bright scarlet. Amanda decided he could do with a few more of her thoughts concerning his unfortunate situation.

“I noticed that little blonde cheerleader watching your last game,” Amanda said. “I wonder what she’d think if she could see you now, bottom up and pants down? I’ll bet she’d like to spank you too. If there’s a next time, should I ask her to help out?”

Despite his intense concentration on the growing burn in his backside, Jeremy found that he could still blush. He was very attracted to that particular little blonde cheerleader, and even the thought of her seeing his bare backside receive such a juvenile punishment while bent over the well upholstered thigh of Coach Amanda was too horrifying to contemplate.

Jeremy began to whimper softly as Amanda’s hand continued to rise and fall.

“Coach! Coach! I’m sorry! This will never happen again!”

Amanda increased both the force and the tempo of her spanks.

Smack! Whap! Smack! Smack! Smack!

“That’s where you’re wrong Jeremy!” she said determinedly, “This will happen again, every single time you break one of my rules! Every – Smack! – single – Smack! – time – Smack! Smack! Smack!”

“No Coach!” Jeremy’s bare bottom was wriggling frantically now. “I mean I’ll never break another rule! Smack! Whap! Smack! “You’ll never need to do this again! I promise!”


“I hope not,” Whap! Smack! Whack! Amanda didn’t stop spanking for a second, “Because this is just a taste of what you’ll get if I ever have to spank you again!” Smack! Whap! Smack!

Jeremy couldn’t believe how hot his bottom was getting. Every square inch, from the very top of his backside to halfway down his thighs, felt as if it had been stung by enraged hornets. And still the resounding spanks continued to land!

“Oh God, will she ever stop?” Jeremy thought to himself, as his scarlet rear bucked and churned under Amanda’s punishing palm. Smack! Smack! Smack!

Jeremy squeezed his eyes tightly shut, and was horrified to feel hot tears begin to trickle down his cheeks. The spanking was incredibly painful, a hot sting that escalated relentlessly as Jeremy felt smack after smack rain down on his bare bottom. Right side, left side. Repeat. The woman’s hand was like a triphammer.

Then, as though a dam had broken, Jeremy burst into sobs.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” Jeremy wailed as he broke down entirely. He was so ashamed to be over Amanda’s knee, and his fanny hurt so much!

Knowing full well that Jeremy was only beginning to learn his lesson, Amanda redoubled the force of her spanks. To Jeremy, each wallop seemed to hit his posterior with explosive force, and contain the roaring heat of a blast furnace.

He had never experienced anything like this relentless burning sensation across his backside. It was agony, all consuming agony, and as one searing crack after another visited his bare fanny he broke down and wailed, apologizing, promising, pleading – anything to make the lady with the iron palm stop paddling his bottom.


Confident that Jeremy’s hysterical crying meant that he had thoroughly gotten the point, with a dozen or so sound swats applied to the tender base of Jeremy’s bottom, Amanda ended the spanking. She stood Jeremy on his feet and admonished him in a firm voice.

“Jeremy, do you know why you got this spanking?”

“Y-Y-Yes Coach,” Jeremy hiccupped, rubbing his bottom frantically, “because I chewed tobacco and because I disobeyed you!”

“That’s right! And do you understand,” Amanda continued, “that you will get another spanking, an even worse one, if you ever disobey me again?”

“Oh God, yes Coach, I understand.” Clutching his flaming rear with one hand and knuckling his eyes with the other, Jeremy looked more like a well-paddled fifth grader than the captain of a high school baseball team.

“Now get back into the locker room, get dressed, and go home!” Amanda gave Jeremy one final vigorous swat that sent him skipping out the door.

Amanda grinned fondly at the sight of Jeremy’s flaming cheeks twinkling down the hall. She had high hopes for his future, but no doubt that he would require many more spankings to guide him along the way.

Five years later, Jeremy stood on a pitching mound in the big leagues, staring down a batter. He no longer remembered just how many times Coach Ironhand had spanked him, but he knew that those frequent bare bottomed sessions across her knee had played a big part in getting him where he was today. As he watched for the catcher’s signals, Jeremy casually shifted the lump in his mouth from one cheek to the other. Thank heavens it was only bubble gum. Jeremy had finally learned his lesson.



One response to “F/M Spanking Story Sunday — Coach Ironhand by CS

  1. I love these kinds of stories – nothing beats a punishing palm smacking down remorselessly on a defenceless bare bottom. Yet another one to add to my favourites.


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