Brigitte

Here is a story about a guy who has a girlfriend with an exhibitionist streak, a real tease. He aims to cure her of this undesirable habit the old fashioned way.

Artwork by Endart, Paula Russell

Brigitte

Saturday was the day of the barbecue. One of Andrew’s oldest friends, Benjamin and his wife Camilla, had organized a get-together at Willows Park. Another couple had been invited, and Brigitte had also invited her good friend Melanie. When Andrew and Brigitte arrived they found Benjamin and Camilla already starting to set up under the large stand of trees near the baseball diamond. Warm greetings were exchanged, and the four of them pitched in to get everything ready. When Melanie arrived half an hour later, the barbecue coals were just about ready. Greg and Sharon pulled up a few minutes later, and by that time, the thin high clouds of the morning had finally begun to disperse, the sun was shining and the temperature had started to rise.

And that was not the only reason it was getting hotter. Today, Brigitte had chosen to wear her favorite cut-off jeans in a Daisy Duke’s style together with a pink and white striped tank top. Years of wear had shaped these jeans perfectly – they hugged every curve, yet were not so tight as to inhibit the natural jiggle of her behind as she walked, a jiggle for which many a man had expressed a fascination. The short cut-offs also displayed a bit of flesh, her bottom cheeks coyly visible where the hem ended.

Sure enough, soon both Benjamin and Greg were having difficulty following the conversation at the table. Brigitte kept getting up to “help out,” and every time she did, she had their attention. As she moved between the table and the ice chest, or between the car and the table, she walked with an exaggerated swing of her hips. On one trip, Brigitte walked out to Andrew’s car and opened her door and got in. Ducking down in the space in front of the seat, she quickly pulled her tank top over her head, then unfastened her bra and removed it. Replacing the tank top, she got out and rejoined the others. Her breasts were much more animated under her top now, and her nipples were quite visible. The men noticed the difference immediately. Catching them staring at her, she grinned knowingly.

Sharon and Camilla were irritated. Their men kept appraising Brigitte’ s body. An annoying distraction, to say the least. Andrew watched his fiancée in disbelief. What the hell? How could she be doing this? Dammit, she knew better. We’d had a talk about this, he reminded himself. In fact, the couple had talked several times about her exhibitionist “habit”, and she had promised to control herself. To say he was he was disappointed was putting it mildly. Angry was more like it. At one point, he caught her eye and flashed her a mute “stop it” warning look, his eyes threateningly dark.

Brigitte stopped, but smiled back. All feigned innocence, like “Who? Me?” But she knew he was aware of her game. She was having such fun, but if he insisted, okay she would tone it down. And besides, she knew he wouldn’t embarrass everyone by making a scene here in front of their friends? Especially not … that way. Her hands fluttered unconsciously to shield her rear end and she gulped, recalling the consequences of her flirtatious behavior on some other occasions.

 

Yes, if truth be known Andrew had, in fact, actually spanked Brigitte – put her across his knee and paddled her backside like a snotty teenager. Andrew was a patient man, but he had learned a couple of relationships ago that there were those times when there was no substitute for setting a feminine bottom on fire. He was older and more mature than Brigitte. She was a delightful girl, beautiful, vivacious, and endearing, but she loved to tease. The problem was she remained blissfully indifferent to the unintended consequences of such behavior. It was a character flaw Andrew figured he had to correct if they were to have a future.

Brigitte’ s first spanking was for, guess what? Flirting. She had enticed a drunk in a restaurant to the point where he got physical with her and Andrew was forced to step in. A short fight ensued, which, thanks to the other man’s inebriated condition, Andrew won handily. They left immediately, and Andrew took her back to her apartment. When they got there, he didn’t say anything, but instead marched her into the kitchen. Brigitte wondered what was up when he pulled one of the chairs out away from the table. Wordlessly, he pulled her to his right side and abruptly yanked her face-down across his knees. That got her attention. In spite of her struggles and pleas, he pulled her dress up and tugged her pantyhose and panties down to her knees. With the decks cleared for action, he applied his palm firmly against her soft bare bottom, meaty sonorous smacks the stung like blazes.

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Brigitte was, predictably, incensed! As a little girl she had been spanked several times by her mother, but no man had ever even so much as threatened her with a spanking. This was entirely too much! She sputtered and fumed, demanding her let her up. Andrew’s response was even harder spanks. His hand really stung, and soon her indignant commands and threats gave way to little ‘Ooooh’s and ‘Wow’s. He was not finished though, and continued to punish the upturned cheeks even after she completely gave in and pleaded for forgiveness.

When he was satisfied, and her buttocks were a vivid angry scarlet, he pulled her up to stand in front of him. He explained to her, as she stood there tearfully, panties and pantyhose still at her knees, that any more stunts like the one she pulled at the bar would be dealt with in similar fashion. Afraid that he wouldn’t hesitate to turn her over his knees again, she nodded in agreement. He then kissed her, told her he would call her in the morning, and left. She wanted him to take her to bed. The spanking had lit a fire that screamed for release, but it was early in the relationship. Even so, once her bottom cooled off, she got angry again and, when he called the next day, she told him that they were through and she never wanted to see him again. She had many other suitors, she informed him curtly, who would treat her like a lady.

“Well, honey, I don’t want to lose you, but last night you were no lady.”

“I’ll decide what’s ladylike and what’s not! And it’s none of your business! I am an adult, you know.”

He took a deep breath. “Listen, Brigitte. When you involve me in your shenanigans, it affects me and my life, and I have to make it my business. You have no right to put me through that kind of turmoil.”

After the call, Brigitte fumed for a while. But the next day, thinking about what he had said, she grudgingly admitted to herself that he was right. If she wanted to play games by herself that was one thing, but it was different if she involved him like that. And, in spite of herself she also had to admit to the fact that she respected him for the way he stood up for her. She was still angry at him for the childish way he had treated her afterwards though! It was a couple of weeks before the couple made up, but they finally did and on that day Andrew extracted a promise from her to never entice a man like that again.

 

Andrew was getting the hamburgers ready for the grill when he noticed the conversation had died out. Turning around, he caught sight of Brigitte bending provocatively over the open ice chest, her hips thrust out. She was lingering, and Benjamin’s eyes were fixed on her rounded ass. She was doing it again! Andrew shot a glance at Greg; he too was staring at the up thrust hips. Brigitte then bent even further forward. Camilla reached over and pinched a transfixed Benjamin hard on the arm, and he jumped and then grinned at her sheepishly. Sharon glared at the bent-over form. Melanie sighed. Thick tension hung around the table.

 

Finally, Brigitte straightened up. She turned and glanced around at the group, eyes twinkling with delight. Andrew’s irritation grew. She was at it again. Enough! He had warned her. Putting down the spatula, Andrew quickly strode over to the ice chest and took one of Brigitte’ s hands in his. “We need to talk,” he said, leading her away from the table. “Hang tight,” he told his friends. “We won’t be long,”

 

Brigitte knew that to resist would only anger him more, so she let herself be led. They walked out towards the baseball field. Andrew’ s mind raced as they reached the diamond. What was he going to say to her that he hadn’t already said? He was busy composing his thoughts as they passed the empty dugout and headed towards the plate. The field was vacant. Suddenly, Andrew had an idea. He changed direction and headed back toward the dugout. Brigitte, her hand held firmly in his, followed as they walked down the steps into the cool shade. Andrew stopped and turned to face her.

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“Now for that little talk …,” he said. He sat down on the bench and gave a good tug on Brigitte’ s arm. Brigitte stumbled forward, surprised. Before she was able to react, she felt herself topple face down across his knees. Using his thighs, he bounced her forward until the well filled seat of her jeans shorts was bent across his right leg.

 

“Whoa … Just a min … Stop this!” she sputtered. As she tried to get up she felt his left hand press firmly down on the small of her back. She flopped back down on her belly against his thighs.

 

“I warned you what would happen, didn’t I?” he demanded as he rubbed an open palm across the taut denim in small circles.

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Another spanking? She thought. “Oh! Please, Andrew, please! Not this!” She turned and looked up at him frantically. He had that resolute face that she had seen just a few times before. She tried another approach. “At least wait until tonight!” Maybe by then he will have cooled down, she thought. Maybe by then she could turn it into something sexy.

 

“This won’t wait, Brigitte. Now you made me a promise a while back and now you’ve gone back on it. And I warned you what was going to happen in that case. You, young lady need something to teach you better manners! ” Andrew figured it shamed Brigitte terribly to hear him say this, to hear herself be sentenced to such an embarrassing fate. And so he punctuated the words very explicitly, and watched her eyes widen and her face flush as she heard them. So saying, he began vigorously slapping the softened seat of her jeans.

 

Whack! Smack! Crack! His palm smacked the soft round curves of her sexy bottom.

 

Ow, yow, it stung! Her legs flew up in back and she wriggled.

 

He spanked in a steady rhythm for a solid minute or more before he stopped.

 

“Okay, I’m sorry,” she said, thinking it was done. “Now let me up!” Her behind burned uncomfortably.

 

“Unh-uh, Brigitte.”  He reached under her waist for the snap on her shorts. She grabbed his arms and tried to stop him, but he had already found the zipper and then the snap. She felt the waistband loosen suddenly and realized the zipper was all the way down. He took a handful of the jeans in each hand and began peeling them off her hips. Feeling his hand leave the small of her back, Brigitte wiggled and twisted, trying to get up, trying to get off his lap. But he worked with quick, strong jerks and now it was too late. She was pinned against his left thigh again, and her jeans were just below her cheeks, where he would finish tugging them down with just his right hand. She felt them being jerked all the way down to her knees, and suddenly realized that now even if she did struggle free she would be going nowhere because her legs were effectively bound in the rolled-down denim. Maybe her favorite jeans weren’t the right thing to wear today after all! Looking back over her shoulder, she could just glimpse the seat of her bright pink bikini panties.

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Andrew looked down at Brigitte’ s beautiful bottom, the roundest, most saucily jutting feminine behind he had even seen. Now we are getting somewhere, he thought. He patted the resilient, tensing cheeks and watched the soft jiggling movements under the panties. Coming out of his reverie, he renewed the pressure against the small of her back and resumed the spanking.

 

”Ow!” Brigitte yelled. This stung like crazy. She struggled against the pinioning left hand even more desperately now. He landed smack after stinging smack. The sound cracked like a pistol shot in the empty dugout. A fear of discovery suddenly flashed through Brigitte’ s mind. What if someone heard them and came by and looked down into the dugout and saw her like this? How embarrassing! She had to stop him somehow. But how?

 

The spanking continued. Andrew’s arm was tireless. The pink pantied seat jiggled, bucked, and squirmed under his hand. The exposed portions of the buttocks around the edges of the panties were now a matching shade of pink. Kicking and twisting, Brigitte reached back with her right hand, trying to fend off the stinging spanks. He deftly caught her by the wrist, brought it up and pinned it where his left hand had been.

 

“Bad girl. Keep that hand down!”. He then inserted the fingers of his right hand into the back waistband of her panties and began working them down.

 

”No! Don’t!” He was going to bare her, but there was nothing she could do, and the underpants were slowly tugged off her bottom and pulled down her thighs until they joined the jeans at her knees.

Andrew surveyed the bright pink bare buttocks, which quivered like jelly as she kicked her legs. She really did have a bottom that begged to be spanked! Two full, round, jiggly globes. No wonder she wore pants that showed it off.  He pressed his hand up against her right cheek and felt the warmth. Then, still holding her wrist up against her back, he raised his right hand high and … stopped.

 

“Well … hello, Camilla! Come on down.” Eyes wide, Camilla stepped down into the dugout, Brigitte jerked her head around and her pulse pounded as her eyes met the other woman’s. Andrew watched the humiliation on his fiancée’s face as Camilla stood silently taking it all in. Brigitte’ s face turned a darker shade than the cheeks of her bottom.

 

“Ugh … I … mum,” she stammered.

 

“Brigitte and I were just having a little discussion about her behavior, weren’t we darling?”, Andrew said, and then delivered a series of brisk spanks that echoed like rifle shots in the confines of the dugout.

 

Overcoming her initial shock, Camilla watched the spanking with satisfaction. She had long ago grown very tired of Brigitte’ s aggressive flirtation and had often wished that Andrew would do something about it. This was certainly doing something about it!

 

Andrew peppered her wriggling fanny with another barrage of brisk spanks then paused. He looked up at Camilla. “Tell you what: will you go and get that wooden spatula I was going to use on the hamburgers? I’m going to make this a spanking she’ll never forget!”

 

“Please, Andrew!” Brigitte wailed in a panic. But Camilla gleefully jumped up and raced off to get the implement. Meanwhile Andrew kept busy, spanking his pretty girlfriend’s now very red bottom with a steady rhythm that made the plump naked cheeks wobble and jiggle feverishly. Tiring, she no longer struggled as hard, but instead jumped at each swat and whimpered softly.

TheresaFeelsTheHeat

Camilla was back in record time, and smiling broadly, handed Andrew the cooking implement. It was about a foot long, and the thick spatula blade was almost as big as his hand. Perfect! Camilla took up a position on the bench to his right, where could see everything.

 

“Well now, darling,” Andrew said ho1ding the imposing makeshift paddle where she could see it, “I think twenty more with this little toy will make sure we don’t have a repeat of your behavior, don’t you?”

 

Looking back at the paddle and at Camilla’ s gleeful face, Brigitte could only wail. “Oooooooh, Please! No. I’m sorry. I’ll NEVER do it again! EVER! Please don’t!”

 

“No, I don’t think you will, especially after I’m done with you.” Raising the spatula, he brought it down swiftly and sharply right on the center of her bottom.

 

“Yeow! ” The broad flat blade of’ the spatula burned a hundred times more than his hand. Brigitte had never even imagined such an intense, deep sting. Slowly and forcefully, Andrew continued to apply the spatula with wrist-snapping strokes. Trying hard to be stoic, Brigitte nevertheless cried out with each one. Brigitte’ s legs pumped up and down, kicking in unison because of the tight shorts rolled around her knees. On the twelfth stroke, she could no longer hold back and burst into tears.

 

Watching this disciplinary display, Camilla felt that Andrew should stop now, but she was too fascinated by it to say anything. This caveman treatment was making her own feminine parts a bit slippery, causing her to speculate about what it might be like if her own boyfriend was ever of a mind to give her a similar treatment. Might be exciting!

TheFlySwatter

Andrew had decided that the count would be twenty, and so it would be. The paddle splatted down on a red and swollen fanny three more times. The twentieth swat had landed and the spanking was over. Brigitte lay weeping over her fiancé’ s knees. Her bare bottom was a deep crimson in color from the tops of each cheek down to the juncture with her upper thighs. And on the lower part of each buttock, crowning Brigitte’ s sit upon areas were two very hot white circles, a testament to where most of the spatula attention had been concentrated.

 

Andrew 1et her 1ay there across his knees for several minutes. Her scorched buttocks quivered and convulsed with an intense heat which would not diminish. Finally, he said, “Okay, my dear. Time to stand up and pull up your pants. We have a barbecue to get on with.”

 

Brigitte certainly did not want to go back to the group. Not after this humiliation. Camilla had undoubtedly, told all of them what was happening here in the dugout, and she couldn’t bear to face them. But she was not to put up a fight now, not with Andrew in his frame of mind, and so she slowly pulled up her panties and then tugged up her shorts. She winced as the tight denim pressed against her burning rump. Then, with Camilla leading the way, they walked up and rejoined the group at the picnic table where someone had thoughtfully placed a padded cushion for her to sit on.

 

 

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