PT 86: The Spanking You Need

“I really don’t,” you say, squirming for the ground. “Just let me go already, so I can do your bidding, ma’am. I really want to follow your orders right now.”

“You think being a sarcastic little brat is a good move, Cadet?” Grisham gives you a little shake. Her expression is stern, her dark eyes narrowed with displeasure. On some level, you’re aware that you’re not acting remotely professionally, but on another, you really don’t care.

“I have to prove myself to you,” you say. “So I do want to follow your orders. I want to follow every order you can think of.”

“Okay,” Grisham says, lowering you back to your feet. “How’s this for an order. Bend over and hold your ankles.”

Dammit. You knew this wasn’t going to end well for you, but that really doesn’t sound good at all.

“Do it, Cadet,” Grisham snaps.

Slowly, you do as she tells you, bending over until your fingers wrap around your ankles. Your bottom is raised taut and high beneath the rough fabric of the overalls, and as she runs her palm over your cheeks you really wish you’d handled things differently.

“We started sleeping with one another,” she says, her hand covering your left cheek entirely. “There’s no unringing that bell. But you need to understand I’m still your superior officer.”

“I do understand that,” you say in a soft whimper. “You hurt my feelings.”


Her palm lands crisply on the cheek she was caressing.

“If you don’t like what I said, you go ahead and prove me wrong,” Grisham says. “Don’t pout and whine.”


Her hand makes contact with the other cheek. Now both of them are stinging, not super painfully, but enough for you to feel it.

“You’re in enough trouble as it is,” she lectures. “You mounted an escape in a stolen craft. You put your life at risk. You put Terra’s professional reputation, and mine, at risk as well. It didn’t look good for any of us. Is that any way to repay my kindness? I could have left you in a cell, Cadet. I took you out, let you sleep in my room…”

“You did that because you liked me!”

“That’s true,” she admits. “I thought you were cute, and I thought you were innocent, and I thought you deserved a chance, but then you turned into a little hellion…”


Her palm lands with a hard whack across both your cheeks, catching your bottom low and hard enough to almost send you pitching forward. Before you fall she catches you by the loose fabric just above your butt and hauls you back, landing a swift flurry of swats to your bottom as you squirm and cry out. You lose your grip on your ankles and simply wriggle in her grasp as she gives you the spanking you both know you need. Her palm is hard enough to make your backside burn even through the thick fabric, and she lands several dozen swats before pausing.

“Do you understand what I’m saying, Cadet?”

“Yes, ma’am.” You don’t have to pretend to whimper. The way Grisham handles you makes you feel small and strangely settled. She has a mixture of strength and stern calm which means you never really get away with anything, and the way she’s holding you, scruffed at the small of your back, still half bent over with the crotch of your clothing acting as a fulcrum against which your pussy is grinding, stimulates you with every move you make.

“I know it’s going to take more than one of these sessions to teach you properly. You’re as wild as they come, and Sarah’s a terrible influence on you, but I expect you to at least try to be obedient, Cadet. And that means talking to me rationally when we get some downtime if I do or say something you don’t like. Not pitching a fit mid-mission.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you sniff.

Grisham hikes you up a little and her palm starts beating against your bottom all over again, hard swats landing steadily over and over until you start to sniffle and whine and then cry out with louder protest.

“Owwwooowww! Okay I get it! I get it! I’m sorry! I get it!” You promise and squeal over and over, but she just keeps spanking, her hand whipping against your butt until tears start to bead in your eyes, then trickle down your cheeks and drip to the floor. She’s spanking you really long and really hard, focusing on your bottom, but also finding the tops of your thighs in a punishment which makes it abundantly clear to you that having made her climax has not earned you any clemency for misbehavior at all. If anything, she’s stricter than before – though that could be because you ran off with Sarah in a stolen helichopter.

“This is a hand spanking,” she says. “This is nothing compared to what you should be getting. It’s nothing compared to what Miss Sarah is going to be getting either, so count yourself lucky.”

“A hand spanking from a super soldier isn’t a hand spanking, it’s a super spanking,” you whimper.

She stops swatting your bottom for a moment and lets your toes touch the ground again.

“I’d say you’d earned a pretty super spanking, don’t you think, Cadet?”


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