Prologue:
It was midweek and Cass was round at Michael’s for the evening. Usually they got a takeaway, or Michael’s favourite, chips, on a Wednesday, because they were both at work all day, so Michael was confused when Cass produced a homemade meal of stew and mash.
“How have you had time to do this?” he asked, curious. She mumbled something. Cass was clearly trying to avoid the question. “Cass?” he demanded, “weren’t you at work?” He looked at her. She was blushing.
“I got sent home,” she confessed.
“You what?” Michael was not impressed at Cass and demanded to know why she’d been sent home by her boss. Cass explained, rather sheepishly, that she’d been caught writing notes for a story. A steamy story. Lucky for her she hadn’t written it out longhand, or knowing the explicit content of Cass’s stories, she would have been fired on the spot. Michael was really cross with her, she had spent ages looking for a job and now she had one this was no way to behave. She couldn’t lose it in the same breath. Cass knew she had sailed close to the wind and the last thing she wanted was for Michael to scold her too.
“Let’s just forget it,” she pleaded, “it’s done with now.”
“We will not forget it!” Michael retorted. “I haven’t done with it yet.”
Cass knew from Michael’s tone and stance she was in trouble. She didn’t feel like being spanked that night, she wanted to snuggle up and relax.
“Please Michael?” A kiss on his ear and a hand on his bum made Michael reconsider. He would like a lazy night himself.
“All right, Cass. You’re safe tonight. But on Saturday, you’re going to pay for this, understand?”
Cass swallowed. She hadn’t escaped then. She nodded and took their dinner through to the lounge.

Saturday came. Michael had devised a whole scenario to deliver Cass’s spanking and he had decided to go to town on it. They had the whole weekend together so they could devote their time to pleasure. It was time to try out a few things both of them had talked about doing. He’d got together all the outfits they would need and laid them out on the bed, ready. Today was going to be about role playing and having fun, as well as giving Cass a sore bottom.
Part 1.  Saturday: Amber stays with her aunt
Amber Jones was always happy to stay with her aunt as she thought she was nice and she let her play outside. She had a large back garden that she shared with her neighbour, a middle aged man called Paul that Amber sometimes saw going to and from the shed in the corner. It was a sunny Saturday and Amber was outside pretending to be a fairy in the back garden. She was just flying from stone to stone when the shed door opened and out came Paul. He was wearing a patterned jumper and jeans, had receding hair and wore glasses. Amber looked up. He smiled at her and she smiled back nervously. Paul went into the house. In his absence Amber wandered over to the shed and peered in through the door. On the workbench there were a number of tiny little figures of people, all in funny poses, some grey, some half painted. Along one wall were hundreds of tiny pots of paint, all different colours.  To one side was a sort of scene, with a rusted car and a garage pump. Amber stared at it, wondering what it was that Paul was doing. Just then a noise made her jump and she saw he had come back outside, carrying a cup of tea.
“Are you being nosy?” he asked her as he pushed past, into the shed.
“No,” she said hurriedly, turning to go away.
“Do you want to look at what I’m doing?,” he said, as he sat down again at the workbench.
Amber nodded and she edged up to the bench. Paul held up a little figure of a woman carrying a gun and explained some things to her about who she was. She didn’t really understand but she did like it when he started showing her the paint pots. He took a tiny brush, no bigger than Amber’s fingernail and started applying paint to the girl’s hair. Amber held her breath. Soon the girl came to life as she started to have some colour.  Paul showed her how he would put the figures into the scene with the car. Then he showed her how you could glue them together from scratch – Amber thought it was funny to see the little arms and legs separate from each other. Paul carefully glued a tiny arm to the figure in his hand then set it down on the side.
“I’ve forgotten the biscuits,” he said to her. “Don’t touch anything. I’ll just be a minute.”
Amber nodded and when he was gone she sat down in his chair and looked at the figures. A curious hand reached out and she picked up the little figure of a man who had just had his arm glued on. The arm fell off. Amber panicked, picked up the tiny arm, dropped it on the floor, and in her haste to pick it up, knocked over one of the tiny pots of paint. Yellow paint spread over the worktop. She went hot and didn’t know what to do. Paul would be back soon. She set the little figure down, now covered in yellow paint, and took a tissue to try and soak up the excess. She managed it until she realised it was on her frilly white dress and she had dripped paint over the figure of the woman and the rusted car.
“What have you done!?” cried Paul as he reached the shed door and saw Amber in the mess she had created. “I leave you for one second…! Didn’t I say not to touch anything!” He moved her out the way roughly and looked at the little figures one by one.
“Ruined!” he said, with disappointment in his voice, “Hours of work ruined!”
Amber felt herself flush hot and she wanted to run but she didn’t dare. After all, where would she go?
“I should never have let you in here!” he went on, getting redder and redder in the face, “I knew it was a mistake. Never mix modelling with kids!” He scowled at her now, not at all pleased. “Are you always this badly behaved?” he demanded.  Amber kept silent and stared at her hands, shuffling nervously. “I’ve a good mind to teach you a lesson!” he snapped, putting the ruined figures into the bin. “A damn good lesson, too!” Amber coloured even more and wondered what on earth he meant by that. She hoped she wouldn’t have to give him her pocket money. But Paul stood up and took hold of her by the arm. He pulled her towards him and sat down again on the chair, moving Amber to his right side. With a quick movement he pulled her body across his thighs, so her head was facing the floor and her legs were stretched out behind her. Her body was over his legs, bottom up. With a lurch to her stomach, she knew what was coming. Paul pulled the skirt of her dress up to her waist and landed the first smack on her knickers.
“Ow!” she wailed, as the smack stung her skin. But it was only the first of many. Paul smacked first left, then right cheek, hard, over and over and over again as Amber yelled and tried to wriggle free. She kicked her legs but Paul moved one leg over the top of hers and held them down. The smacks fell faster now, building in intensity. They hurt! She yowled and cried out but to no avail: Paul was giving her bottom a good spanking, every smack echoed round the shed. As he spanked he chided her, telling her she was a very naughty girl and that her aunt would hear of this and that he was going to spank her bottom until she was sorry.
“I am sorry!” she wailed. It disturbed some pigeons outside and they flew off noisily, but Paul kept spanking without missing a beat. To her horror, Amber felt her knickers being pulled down, the cool air hitting her burning skin, and she braced herself for the next smack which she knew would hurt more. It did, a lot more and she wailed, hoping to stop the spanking.
“Naughty girls get their bottoms spanked,” Paul said to her, keeping up the rhythm, “And you are a very naughty girl.” He kept on smacking the reddening flesh and Amber began to feel he would never stop. She couldn’t take much more, she really couldn’t. She threw back a hand to ward off the smacks. Paul gripped her by the wrist and held the arm behind her back. Now Amber was fixed quite fast across his lap and the hand that kept spanking her was not stopping.
“It hurts!” she cried out, as the slaps fell. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”
This final little cry of apology convinced Paul and he lessened the intensity of the spanking, so that she could just about bear these smacks. A dozen or so more fell on her upturned, sore backside, and he ended the spanking by giving her three sharp smacks across both cheeks.

Once he released her she pulled up her clothes, brushed the tears from her cheeks and looked at him to see if she could go.
“Yes?” he said, expectantly.
“I’m sorry,” she said, genuinely sorry for what she had done.
“You may go, then.”
Amber raced out of the shed and flew into her aunt’s house and up the stairs.
Inside the house, Amber’s Aunt, Penny, had just got in. She heard Amber race upstairs and followed her up, intrigued to know what was going on. She found Amber face down on the bed, rubbing at her bottom.
“Amber! Whatever’s gone on?” Amber turned her tear stained face towards her and sat up. She flung herself into her Aunt’s arms. Her aunt was a broad shouldered woman, tall, with straight platinum blonde hair in a bob. She wore a smart red skirt, white blouse and high heels, as she had been at the office. Amber’s Aunt gave a gasp of horror. She had seen the yellow paint all over Amber’s new dress.
“Amber,” her aunt said in a serious tone. “What have you done? This dress was new!”
In between tears, Amber explained everything that had happened. Her aunt took it all in. She made Amber turn over while she looked at her spanked bottom.
“Well,” she declared.  “I think Paul had the right idea.”
Amber listened in horror. Surely she couldn’t approve of the spanking?
“It doesn’t look very pink though. Are you sure he spanked you for very long?” Amber’s mouth fell open. Her bum stung like crazy! It must be pink!  Her aunt stroked the skin and considered what to do.
“Well, Amber, I’m very unhappy to hear you have been causing my neighbour trouble while I’ve been out. You promised to be a good girl and this is not good behaviour. Not good at all. You don’t go poking your nose in other people’s sheds without permission and you certainly don’t go spoiling their things! And as for your dress!”
Amber looked in shame at her dress. The paint had ruined the nice silky fabric.
“We only got this the other day. It wasn’t cheap either! This paint won’t wash out. You can’t wear this again. Oh Amber, you really are a very naughty thing. I’ve a good mind to spank you myself.”
Amber’s mouth dropped open in horror. Here was her aunt, her normally lovely aunt, promising to spank her too! Her face crumpled as the tears came.
“Oh no, no crying, young lady. You’ve misbehaved and I promised your mother I’d keep order.”
Aunt Penny went to her bedroom and returned with a wide backed wooden hairbrush.
“Get over my lap,” she said. Amber scrabbled over her aunt’s lap, dangling a hand by her leg, and feeling the silky black tights against her skin.  The cool silk calmed her a little as she found herself back in the same position as earlier, this time dreading the feeling of the hairbrush on her already sore skin.

Amber’s aunt set about spanking her niece. She didn’t give a warm up spanking by hand because Paul had effectively done that already. Amber’s bottom was already glowing pink. When she started spanking her with the hairbrush it began to feel as if it was on fire, the brush giving a more intense, wider smack than a hand could, a deeper smack, that resonated around the bedroom. A deeper, duller ache began to radiate from her bottom. She started whining as the pain began to build.
“You’ll be one sorry little girl when I’ve finished,” Aunt Penny promised and brought the brush down firmly on each cheek. She had a different rhythm to Paul, she would smack one cheek five to ten times, then the other cheek, so that each cheek got very sore before she swapped to the other one. Amber felt very well punished for her misdemeanours. She knew she would not be so careless again if she didn’t want to risk another spanking. Aunt Penny laboured on, smacking a bit harder now that she thought Amber could take it. A dozen more smacks made Amber’s bottom smart hard. Her aunt picked up the pace and smacked her niece’s poor bottom until the skin turned deep red. To finish the spanking she brought the brush down hard, three times, on each cheek. It was more than Amber could take and she wailed long and loud. At last it ceased and she was allowed to stand up.
“Get straight into bed,” her aunt ordered.
“But Aunt, it’s tea time!” said Amber, whose stomach was rumbling.
“No tea for you today!” Aunt Penny told her. But luckily for Amber she brought her a little plate of biscuits later that evening, once the soreness in her backside had subsided and the familiar ache that followed a good spanking had begun to set in…

Epilogue
Cass shoved a biscuit into her mouth and finished the last of the milk Michael had brought her. It had been an exhausting evening. Her bottom had been soundly spanked and she was rubbing it tenderly, hoping for some relief. She hoped Michael might rub it for her, to get some circulation back. Michael sat on the edge of the bed and took off his blond wig.
“How are you feeling, darling?” he whispered. “Did you enjoy it?”
In answer, Cass leaned forward, and kissed him passionately. Some of his pink lipstick came off on her mouth. She ran a hand down over his red skirt and up underneath, feeling a thrill at feeling Michael’s legs in the silky nylons.
“You’re so hot,” she murmered, “I want you.”
Michael undid his skirt and kicked off his heels and climbed into the bed beside her. He took one of Cass’s pigtails in his hand and played with it, then slipped a hand under her white frilly dress, now covered in yellow paint, and stroked her skin. He knew when he put his hand down to her little pink knickers they would be wet through.
“I want to fuck you when you’re dressed as Aunt Penny,” she said to him, stroking his cock through the silky underwear he had on. “Please.”
Michael’s cock stiffened. “You will,” he said, “you will. Tomorrow. Tomorrow Aunt Penny will meet a seductive lover.”
But for tonight they were already hot from role playing all afternoon and evening. The evening turned into night and the passions that had been building all day were finally released.