I have already said that I have one of those bottoms that gets me into scrapes. But that isn’t entirely fair. I mean in a way that is just an excuse, I get me into trouble and my bottom just gets me out of it. I mean if some guy wants to avoid sacking me because he can spank me or another will tolerate my smart mouth for much the same reason then it’s an advantage, right? I have often stood in front of a mirror and pondered what it is about my bottom that makes it spankable, but thinking of all those tender memories of laps and corners, I have to say that it is a mixed blessing at best.

But I can think of one time when it was my bottom that got me into trouble and I rather got in over my head.

I was on holiday in Greece and for once I was rather popular. I mean it was almost as if they were queueing up to drive me around in sports cars, take me to dinner or allow me use of their private pools.

It didn’t take me long to realise that the one thing all these guys had in common was a bit of slap and tickle with yours truly and the emphasis was always on the slap.

So okay, a little playful spanking now and then never did a girl any harm and boys will be boys.

The second day there a nice boy called Marcos took me to the mountains in his car. We had a great time but it was obvious there was going to be a pay-off. Needless to say when we arrived at his father’s villa it was more than a kiss and a bit of the other at the poolside he wanted.

I have to say he was rather enthusiastic in the spanking department and I was sore for days afterwards.

“Hey, have you been a bad girl,” he said as he tumbled me across his lap.

I was giggling until he grabbed my bikini bottoms and pulled them down and right off.

“Nnn-nooo, noo,” I think I said as he fondled by tail bumpers as he called them. Cute.

But I am a sucker for this kind of handling and a swat or two in and my resistance was token. He really let me have it too and I was proud when he complimented me on the fact that I could really take it.

My behind wasn’t so proud though. There I was bottomless and drape dover dark-skinned thighs getting a healthy dose of sting until my bottom was red and singing for mercy. After a while I had to wriggle free and dive into the pool to let my tail cool off. But my backside was still a decent shade of red when I emerged and Marcos just had to begin over.

Holidays is hard on one’s moral welfare and even harder on the knees when one is saying sorry and thank you for being corrected in the traditional manner. At least Marcos had stamina enough to treat that as just an opener and see me right afterwards.

Of course that led to more spanking after and so we went around again.

Mr P was another story altogether. I called him Mr P because it made him laugh and because I couldn’t say his full name. He was an older man with an ivory smile and a yacht. We met at a private beach party where wine and ouzo were abundant and I wasn’t the only freeloader flaunting her bikini. Like I said morals are option at such times.

I had had a few when Mr P pointed out his yacht in the bay and I looked at him with renewed interest.

“Can I go on her?” I asked.

He winked and made a maybe gesture.

“Has anyone told you what a spankable bottom you have?” he said casually.

I was still tender from Marcos but it wasn’t as if I couldn’t take it and I definitely knew where this was going. Or I thought I did. So I answered, “Once or twice.”

“I am quite an aficionado of the female behind,” he said, “I can be quite generous if a girl is game.”

“Hey,” I said, “a bit of fun is one thing, but I am not…”

“No of course,” he assured me, “But I don’t like teasers or time wasters.”

I shrugged.

“Tell you what,” he said ponderously as if he had just thought of it. “I dare you to strip off and swim out to my vessel to show how game you are. Then I’ll join you and we can have some fun. If you want out at any point I’ll take you to your hotel.”

“And if I don’t?” I asked.

“Then tomorrow we can go for a little voyage,” he promised.

The swim out was lovely, but it was further than I thought and I was rather self-conscious and not to say vulnerable being completely naked on my way to a strange man’s yacht. But the danger was thrilling and being naughty was what I did best. I mean, it wasn’t as if wasn’t going to be punished for it.

It was dark by the time I got out there and the craft’s lights made me feel less exposed. But I had no sooner got aboard when I heard a small boat approaching. Mr P’s smile arrived long before he did and I saw him standing at the prow of his little motorboat grinning broadly with a glass in his hand.

“You naughty girl,” he chuckled as he stepped aboard, “You have lost your knickers.”

The spanking that followed was tight, to put it mildly and I was quite dewy-eyed by the time he set me on my feet. But fair was fair, I had been warned and I after a good rub of my bottom I made to kneel on the deck in front of him to say thank you.

“My darling girl, as much as I appreciate what you suggest I have a rather more Greek pastime in mind,” he said.

Kneeling on the deck and stared at him blankly even as he began to apply something cream-like to a rather impressive member in the trouser area. Then he told me to turn around onto all fours and the penny dropped.

There are three ways to enjoy a woman, if you don’t count spanking her, and I was treated to each in turn over and over until we slept. But don’t worry if you think this too naughty, because I was very soundly spanked between each little encounter until I was quite certain that sitting down was off the agenda for a week.

I lay off the boys for a few days after that and concentrated on getting some sun. But sooner or later trouble always finds me and that wasn’t the last of my spanking adventures that holiday, but that is another story.