Just the spanks

The Dressing Room

Keisha and Kenna had been best friends for ten years. Both were twenty-seven now. One quiet evening, Kenna had shyly admitted that she sometimes wondered what it would feel like to be taken into a ladies’ dressing room and spanked by another woman. Keisha had smiled, filed the secret away, and decided to make it real.

She carefully planned the shopping trip. She chose Kenna’s outfit herself — a red polo shirt, a short red-and-black plaid pleated miniskirt, and Mary Jane shoes — knowing exactly how it would look later.

Inside the busy clothing store, Keisha found her reason. She scolded Kenna in a low, firm voice for “being careless with the clothes” and “needing a proper reminder.” Before Kenna could fully process what was happening, Keisha took her firmly by the wrist and led her into an empty dressing room, locking the door behind them.

Keisha sat on the little bench, pulled Kenna face-down across her lap, flipped up the short plaid skirt, and tugged the panties down. Then she began a thorough, steady hand spanking.

SMACK… SMACK… SMACK… SMACK…

“You wanted to know what this felt like,” Keisha said calmly while she spanked. “So you’re going to feel every bit of it.”

Kenna kicked and whimpered, face burning with shock and embarrassment as her bottom quickly turned a bright, glowing pink. The thin dressing-room walls did little to hide the sharp sounds.

When the spanking finally ended, Keisha didn’t stop there. She reached into her bag, pulled out a thick white adult diaper, powdered Kenna’s warm bottom, and taped her into it snugly. She pulled the little plaid skirt back down over the bulky padding and unlocked the door.

Still holding Kenna’s wrist, Keisha led her friend out of the dressing room and back into the mall. The short skirt flipped up slightly with every step, making the white diaper clearly visible to anyone who looked. Kenna walked beside her with burning cheeks, shopping bags in her free hand, completely humbled by what her best friend had just done.

After the bridge spanking, Ensign Carol walked carefully to a quiet corner of the corridor where Junior Officers Marlena and Keisha were waiting. Her cheeks were still pink and she kept shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

Marlena gave her a sympathetic look. “You okay? Gina doesn’t usually go that hard on a first real mistake.”

Carol let out a small, embarrassed breath. “It wouldn’t have hurt nearly as much if the Captain hadn’t already given me an orientation paddling this morning… with the Lexan paddle.”

Keisha and Marlena both froze.

“Orientation paddling?” Keisha repeated, confused. “No one gets an orientation spanking. Especially not with the paddle. The rest of us only get corrected when we actually mess up.”

Marlena frowned. “Yeah… that’s not standard, even for the Athena. Why would the Captain single you out like that?”

Carol could only shake her head, just as confused as they were.

Meanwhile, in the captain’s ready room, the main viewscreen showed the composed face of Fleet Admiral Hayes — Carol’s mother. Captain Voss stood at ease, the clear Lexan paddle still resting on her desk.

“I gave her a proper orientation this morning,” Voss reported calmly. “Full over-the-knee with the paddle. Then Commander Gina reinforced it on the bridge after a careless console error.”

Admiral Hayes’s expression softened with something that looked almost like amusement. “Good. That girl has been talking back and cutting corners since the Academy. I was beginning to think no one would ever give her the firm hand she needed.”

Captain Voss allowed the smallest hint of a smile. “She was overdue, Admiral. Quite overdue.”

The two women shared a brief, knowing look across the distance of space.

“Keep her on a short leash, Elara,” the Admiral said. “And don’t hesitate to use that paddle again if she needs it. I’ll support whatever methods you find effective.”

“Yes, Admiral.”

The channel closed. Captain Voss glanced once at the paddle on her desk, then returned to her work, already certain that Ensign Carol’s education on the Athena was only beginning.

Captain Elara Voss stood at the front of the main briefing room on the USS Athena. Every woman on the senior staff and a large portion of the junior officers were seated in neat rows, all wearing their short Starfleet minidresses. The clear Lexan paddle rested openly on the table beside the captain.

She folded her hands behind her back and let her cold blue eyes move slowly across the room.

“I called this meeting to review the disciplinary protocols that apply on this vessel,” she began in her calm, carrying voice. “They are simple, and they are non-negotiable.

First: the uniform. Your minidresses are regulation for a reason. They allow immediate access for correction. You will wear them properly at all times.

Second: minor infractions — carelessness, nervous mistakes, or speaking out of turn — will be answered with a firm hand spanking over the knee. Panties remain on unless I or Commander Gina decide otherwise.

Third: repeated or more serious failures will earn the Lexan paddle. It stings longer and deeper. You will feel it through the fabric, and you will remember it.

Fourth: if an officer becomes so unsettled that she has an accident, or if further containment is required after a spanking, a thick disciplinary diaper will be applied under the uniform for the remainder of the duty shift. No exceptions.

Commander Gina holds full authority to administer any of these corrections in my absence. You will obey her exactly as you obey me.

These protocols exist so that this crew remains sharp, focused, and under control. I expect every one of you to internalize them. Questions?”

The room stayed silent. A few officers shifted slightly in their seats.

Captain Voss gave a single nod.

“Good. Dismissed. Return to your stations… and conduct yourselves accordingly.”