Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Friday, September 21, 2007
The Bad Afternoon
Leigh’s bottom was throbbing as she followed her husband back to his mother’s house. The spanking in the garage had made quite an impact on her backside. Her husband Mark only hoped it had had the same effect on her demeanour. He stepped aside to let her enter the back door ahead of him. She kept her head down and brushed past him, opting to head for the bathroom for a while before facing her mother-in-law, Jane. Mark stared at the closed bathroom door for a moment, shaking his head as he returned to the living room. He feared that things were going to turn out badly.
Jane looked up as he crossed the room and dropped heavily into an easy chair. ‘Everything all right, dear?’ she queried. ‘Yeah Mom, it’s fine. We were just.......... clearing up some stuff in the garage.’ His mother looked at him hard for a moment, but kept her suspicions to herself. ‘That’s good. Always helps to get things straightened out.’ Mark shot her a look to see if her face betrayed any idea of what she was really trying to say, but all she gave him was a warm smile. He decided she didn’t have a clue and relaxed. Now if only Leigh would behave.
He didn’t have long to wonder, and what unfolded over the next couple of hours did not please him. When Leigh emerged from the bathroom, she went straight to the other chair and plopped into it, wincing slightly as her sore bottom made contact with the cushion. She quickly regained her attitude, and sat with her arms folded across her chest and her legs crossed, the top one swinging back and forth in a defiant and aloof manner. Even though she pasted a smile on her face, Mark could see the black cloud behind her eyes that threatened to unleash a torrent at any moment. He knew his mother could see it too – how could you miss it? Both of them tried to draw her out with small talk, but Leigh wasn’t having any of it. She only spoke to answer a direct question, and any attempts to draw her into a conversation failed. Finally, Jane spoke to her son.
‘Mark, I think your poor wife is feeling very neglected. She looks so unhappy. Maybe you need to be paying a little more attention to her.’ ‘Mom, I give her plenty of attention!’ Mark replied. ‘Yes dear, I’m sure you do, but sometimes you need to give people your undivided attention at a specific moment in time.’ Mark gave her a long stare. ‘Are you saying...........’ he asked. She met his gaze. ‘All I’m saying, son, is that an opportunity missed is an opportunity lost.’ Both of them ignored Leigh as she stared at them wide-eyed, her eyes and mouth both open as it dawned on her what they were talking about. But it was too late. Mark slapped his hands on the armrests of his chair and rose to his feet. ‘In other words, Mom, no time like the present!’ He turned to his wife, who was doing her best to shrink from sight in her chair. Taking her hand, he pulled her to her feet.
‘Leigh, please go wait for me in Mom’s bedroom. We need to ‘talk’,’ he ordered. Leigh could feel the blush starting at the tips of her toes and heading north. ‘But honey.....’ she hissed. Mark cut her off. ‘Don’t ‘honey’ me, young lady! You had your chance. Now, if you prefer, I can sit back down and we can ‘talk’ right here.’ Leigh glanced over at Jane to see if she was going to try and save her, but the older woman had busied herself with the TV guide. Leigh gave it one last try. ‘But we shouldn’t just leave your mother, darling. That would be rude!’ Mark snorted – she had a lot of nerve making that comment. ‘Don’t worry about me, dear,’ Jane said idly as she scanned the TV listings, feigning ignorance. ‘You go have a nice chat with your husband. Maybe it will make you feel better.’ A horrified look on her face, Leigh clapped a hand over her mouth and fled the room. Mark sighed. ‘If you’ll excuse me, Mom.....’ Jane picked up the remote. ‘Take your time son. I’m just going to watch a little telly. Oh, and sorry about the volume. My closed captioning isn’t working so I’m afraid I’ll have to turn it up rather loud.’ She aimed the remote and the TV flickered on. Another press on the volume control and the speakers were soon blaring. Mark gave her a grateful smile and headed off to the bedroom to tend to his wife.
He entered the room and found Leigh cowering by the wardrobe. He closed the door and strode towards her. Leigh felt like she was on the tracks and the four-fifteen from London was bearing down on her. She tried to slow him down, but it was like waving a red flag in front of a charging bull. He planted himself in front of her, glaring down in fury as her bravado began to melt. With the last ounce of indignation she had left, she hissed at him. ‘Surely you don’t intend to spank me here! Ok, ok! I know I deserve to be punished – but can’t it wait until we get home?’ ‘I don’t INTEND to do anything, young lady! I AM going to spank you – right here and now! I will also wait until we get home – to give you the other spanking that I promised you in the garage! Didn’t think you were getting out of that one, did you?’ he growled back at her. She tried one more protest. ‘But your mother – she’ll hear.......!’ Mark cocked an eyebrow. ‘You should have thought of that earlier. I warned you in the garage what would happen if you didn’t straighten up. Besides, don’t you hear that TV blaring out there? As long as you control yourself somewhat, she won’t hear much. Now, enough stalling. Drop those pants and bend over that bed!’
She hung back, hoping for a last minute reprieve. He leaned closer to her. ‘If I have to do it for you, little girl.........’ His implied threat was enough to shift her into action. She scurried over to the bed. With trembling hands, she undid her jeans and pushed them down, shivering as they slid to the floor. ‘Panties too!’ he ordered. Groaning softly, she peeled them down also and they joined the puddle of clothing around her ankles. Grabbing a pillow, she threw herself across the bed and buried her face in it.
Mark looked at her bare bottom as it quivered over the bed. He glanced around the room and his gaze fell on the antique wooden hairbrush on his mother’s dresser. Picking it up, he smacked it on the palm of his hand a couple of times and was rewarded with the sight of Leigh’s bottom bobbing up and down as she jumped at the sound. Dropping down beside her, he wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her tightly to him. He tapped her bottom. ‘Ready?’ he asked. No response from his miserable wife. He tapped harder. CRACK! ‘Ow! Yes sir!’ she wailed, her voice muffled by the pillow. Raising his arm, he began the methodical correction of his errant wife.
The smacks sounded like gunshots as the wooden brush made contact with Leigh’s tender bottom. They reverberated around the room as her husband brought the evil instrument of destruction crashing down again and again. Each smack flattened her buttocks and the explosion of pain would be followed shortly by a yelp from Leigh as her brain registered the assault. After only about a dozen swats, Leigh was already wailing and kicking wildly, trying to twist away from the awful implement. Mark was getting tired of trying to hold her in place, so he lifted her slightly and slid one knee under her hips. Her legs were now between his and he was able to place his outside leg over hers and clamp them in place. Now that she was held down securely, he renewed his efforts. Another two dozen smacks of the brush left a blazing trail all over her behind and the top of her thighs. By now, Leigh was in a fog of pain and had forgotten all worries about being overheard. She bucked and howled with every blow. Before he finished, Mark concentrated a dozen more on her sensitive sit spot – that pudgy, meaty area where thigh meets bottom. Six stinging strokes on each side and he was done.
It took Leigh a few moments to register that fact. Mark kept her in place over his knee until she had calmed down, rubbing her bottom gently. When she was no longer squealing and thrashing about, he helped her to her feet. As soon as she was upright, her hands flew back to rub furiously at her flaming cheeks as she danced from foot to foot. Her howls had diminished to quiet sobbing as her brain cleared and she remembered where she was. She shuddered as she struggled to compose herself, her face now as red as her bottom from embarrassment. Mark could see she needed some time on her own, so he took her by the shoulders and led her to the corner of the room. She complied, shuffling along as best she could with her pants still around her ankles. When she was facing the wall, he spoke sternly in her ear. ‘Hands on your head, and keep your nose to that wall. I’ll let you know when you can come out. Now that the sequel is over, you can think about the third part of the trilogy waiting for you at home. Understood?’ ‘Yes sir,’ she sniffed. He left the room, closing the door behind him.
Rejoining his mother in the living room, he saw her gazing intently at the TV screen. Picking up the remote, he lowered the volume to a reasonable level. ‘Ok, Mom, you can quit the innocent act. I know you heard what happened.’ ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, dear. Will Leigh be coming back soon?’ Jane replied sweetly. ‘Yes, she will,’ Mark said. ‘In a few minutes – or about 30 of them, to be more exact. She’s having a bit of a .......... rest. So please don’t go in the bedroom.’ Jane smiled. ‘Of course, dear. I wouldn’t dream of disturbing her................. rest. I understand completely. Sometimes a cranky girl just really needs a good old fashioned .............. rest. Keeps them sweet-natured.’ Mark shot her a look. He could see the twinkle of recognition in her eyes, but she didn’t confirm it readily. She continued. ‘By the way – I’ve been clearing up some things around here. Too much stuff around that I don’t need any more. Before you leave, there is a lovely antique hairbrush on my dresser that was my mother’s. I want Leigh to have it, so would you please take it home with you today?’ Mark roared with laughter. ‘Ok, if that’s the way you want to play it, you evil old woman! Fine, I am sure Leigh would just LOVE to have your antique hairbrush handed down to her. We’ll tell her when she comes out and you’ll get to see for yourself just how pleased she is!’ Jane grinned sheepishly and shrugged her shoulders. ‘All I’m saying, son, is that it is important that things are ‘handed’ down in a family – you should be honoured to ‘take things in hand’ when they are given to you – passing the torch, so to speak, keeping the home fires burning. Carrying on family traditions. You know, you do take after your.............’ Mark sputtered, interrupting her. ‘Ahhhhhh! I get it Mom! No more double talk – Please! And let’s drop this discussion before I get more information about you and Dad than I need to know!’ But Jane couldn’t resist just one more. ‘Just so you know it’s all about what’s in the ‘genes’, dear.’ Mother and son exchanged one final knowing glance, and the topic of conversation was changed by mutual silent agreement.
A half hour later, Mark excused himself and went back to the bedroom. Leigh was still as he had left her – hands on her head, her bare bottom glowing. She jumped when the door opened. ‘It’s ok – it’s just me,’ he assured her. Going to her, he bent down and grasped her panties, sliding them back up her legs. She winced as he eased them over her swollen bottom. She quickly bent to pull up her jeans herself, giving a low yelp as she tugged them up and fastened them gingerly. She stood in front of her husband contritely, head down and fingers twisting together in front of her. ‘Ready to go out and behave now?’ he asked. She nodded meekly. Her eyes widened as he picked up the hairbrush again. ‘By the way. Mom said she was clearing up and she wants you to have this family heirloom. Be sure to thank her for it before we leave - nicely,’ he quipped as he handed it to her. The look of shock and horror on her face made it hard for him not to burst out laughing. He turned and left the room. She followed slowly, holding the brush between two fingers as if it were on fire.
Mark decided it was time to go. Back in the living room, he leaned down and gave his mother a hug. ‘We’re going to make a move for home now. Got a cat and fish waiting to be fed!’ He moved out of the way and motioned to his wife to make her good-byes. Leigh couldn’t bear to look her mother-in-law in the eye. She stammered and stuttered as she stared at the hairbrush in her hands. ‘Um – thank you – I can’t tell you how much I appreciate – I’ll take good care of it – um – thank you!’ Quickly leaning down, she gave Jane a quick peck on the cheek. Her face was flaming as she stood and grabbed her purse. Jane smiled. ‘You’re welcome darling. I just hope you get lots of good use out of it in the years to come!’ Leigh gave a small strangled noise as she kept her head down and made a bee-line out the front door. When she was out of earshot, Mark looked back at his mother, who grinned at him. He shook his head and let out a wry chuckle. ‘You really are evil, you know that? Love you!’ Giving her a quick wink, he followed his wife. ‘Love you both!’ his mother called out as the door clicked shut.
The drive home was sober and tense. Leigh didn’t speak, but sat quietly with her hands folded in her lap. She knew that once the talking started, it would become a lecture. She was soon proved correct. Mark spoke first. ‘You’ve had a bit of a bad day, haven’t you?’ Leigh could only nod as she looked down at the floorboards. Mark continued. ‘And unfortunately, it’s not over. Was it worth all this, young lady?’ ‘No sir,’ she mumbled. The worst part was, she knew it was all her own fault. He had given her plenty of chances and warnings, and she had defied every one of them. Next, she suspected, he was going to remind her of those facts. He didn’t let her down. ‘You know, I gave you every chance to behave on your own, and I warned you numerous times what would happen if you didn’t listen, but you chose to disobey me. You brought this all on yourself.’ If her bottom hadn’t been so sore, the way he echoed her thoughts would have been funny. But neither of them was in a laughing mood. She knew the next part that was coming – he was going to tell her what was going to happen when they got home. Silently, she waited for it.
His voice stayed low and even. ‘When we get home, you will go straight into the living room and into your corner. I want to see your bare bottom and your hands on your head. After you have had some time to think about your behaviour, you are getting a damn good paddling. Then you will go back to the corner for a while, and we will finish up the festivities with six with the cane.’ He stopped when she gasped out loud. ‘Don’t you think you have earned a dose of the cane for being such a brat, missy?’ he queried. ‘I – suppose so,’ she blurted out haltingly. ‘But do we have to – ‘ He raised his hand in warning. ‘Yes, we have to. And I don’t want to hear any whining about it either. Keep it up and I’ll double it.’ Leigh clamped her mouth shut and stayed that way the rest of the way home. As Mark parked the car in their driveway, she jerked the door open and fled into the house, wishing it could be a happier homecoming.
Watch this space for part three.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Lazy Day Gone Bad
He came in the door so quietly that I didn’t hear him until it was too late. Even then, I only sensed he was there as I could feel his breath on my neck as he leaned over me, taking in the full view of the computer screen and the picture I was looking at. The monitor was filled with the image of a woman, bare bottomed and over the lap of a man who was applying a Lucite paddle to her glowing posterior. I had no time to shut it down before he grabbed the mouse and moved it out of my reach. Damn wireless gadgets!
‘Well, I’m glad that while I was at work all day, you had enough time to do all your work and find extra time to surf porn on the internet,’ he said quietly. ‘Welllllllllllllllll............’ I stammered. I hadn’t exactly done what I should have all day. And he was about to find out. ‘What do you mean, ‘well’?’ he asked evenly. ‘Are you telling me that you have been playing on the computer all day instead of getting things done around here?’ I didn’t answer – there was no need. My misdeeds were going to be discovered soon enough. I only hung my head in reply. ‘Ok,’ he sighed. ‘Let’s just get this over with and see what you HAVE done all day.’
I could only watch in despair as, with a few clicks of the mouse, my entire day’s history of surfing was before him in all its glory. It was obvious what I had been up to and this traitorous machine was giving up all my secrets like a twenty dollar hooker! I blushed harder and squirmed in my chair as he clicked through web site after web site, images of one spanking after another flashing across the screen. After going through about 20 sites, he closed the browser and pushed aside the mouse. ‘Well, I’ve seen enough, young lady. I can already see that the downstairs hasn’t been touched. But I think we’ll start upstairs and see what else you HAVEN’T done today. Move!’
He pulled me from the computer chair and pointed me in the direction of the stairs. I rushed to keep ahead of him as he swatted at my butt to keep me moving. Scampering up the steps, I came to a halt at our bedroom door. He looked in over my shoulder and my stomach flipped as I heard him tsking in disapproval. ‘I see the pile of laundry is still on the floor, and the bed isn’t even made! Ok, young lady, this is the situation. I am going to do the chores you didn’t do, even though I have worked all day. You will stand in the corner as I do each one, and you will get a spanking after each chore that I finish.’ He held up his hand to cut me off as I started to protest that I would do the work - he didn’t have to. ‘Hush!’ he ordered. ‘You had your chance. You chose not to do it, and you will be punished for being a lazy little girl. Now, first things first. Since the bed isn’t made, the pillows are in a handy pile in the middle of the bed. Drop your pants and get up there over the pile. Pillows under your hips, bare bottom nice and high. Move!’
I began to moan softly as I pushed my sweatpants and panties down to my knees. Awkwardly, I scrambled on to the bed and threw myself across the pile of pillows. Grabbing handfuls of bedding in each fist, I waited for the sting of the first swat. I jumped when I instead felt him pull my bottom cheeks apart and insert the small butt plug into my tight hole. I squealed and twisted in protest and was answered by a slap to my bottom. ‘Don’t argue young lady! This will help keep your mind on things while you’re spending time in the corner this evening!’ I could only tremble as he pushed the plug in up to its hilt. When it was firmly seated, he gave me six hard swats. ‘Off the bed and into the corner. Now!’ I hurried to obey and stood, barebottomed and shamefaced, facing the wall. I could hear him moving about the room as he straightened sheets and put the pillows back in place. When he was done, he took my arm and spun me around, propelling me straight towards the foot of the bed. With my pants around my thighs, I stumbled forward and fell across the mattress, exactly in the position he wanted me.
I buried my face in the mattress as he picked up the paddle. From the very first whack against my bottom, he had me squealing. They were not light taps and he meant for every one to drive his message, not to mention that infernal butt plug, home. I was reading him loud and clear. He applied twenty steady strokes, each one a buttock flattening scorcher. By the time he finished, I was yelping and drumming my toes on the carpet.
He finally told me to stand and I sprang to my feet, furiously rubbing my bottom as I tried to ease the sting. He picked up the load of laundry off the floor and motioned me to go ahead of him to the stairs. ‘Leave them!’ he barked as I reached down to pull my pants back up. So with my face now as red as my bottom, I shuffled as fast as I could ahead of him as we headed back down to the kitchen.
Next, I was directed to stand with my nose to the wall next to the washing machine. He opened the door to the machine to load the clothes and I heard him chuckle as it swung back towards my bottom. It didn’t take me long to figure out the source of his amusement. We have a front loading washer with a door that opens to the side and the door has a window in it. When it swung out behind me, my red bottom was perfectly framed in the window. I groaned in embarrassment. But that was the least of my worries. The door to the washer clicked shut. ‘Come here, little girl. Time for your laundry spanking.’ I turned around and saw that he had placed a wooden chair in front of the washer. I was instructed to stand behind it, lean over the back, and grab the seat. When I was in place, he picked up my garden sandal that was by the back door. Placing a hand on my back, he placed another twenty rapid, hard swats on my bottom, making me squeal and squirm as the loud slaps echoed through the room. ‘I would suggest you save your voice, missy. You have a long evening ahead of you!’ he warned. Taking my arm, he stood me up and moved me around the chair, plopping me down on the hard seat. My stomach sank at his next order. ‘Now you can sit there and watch the machine. Let me know when it’s done – I’m going to read the paper and watch the news!’ No! This stupid machine took forever – I was going to be sitting there for an hour!
It was the longest load of laundry I had ever seen. My bottom was burning and prickling as I sat on the hard wood. All I could do was watch as the machine slowly progressed through each cycle. Even though I knew I had more spankings coming, I was overjoyed to see the last spin cycle. ‘It’s done!’ I yelled. After a few moments, he appeared in front of me, arms crossed over his chest, one eyebrow raised. ‘Did I hear you correctly? Did you just bellow at me?’ Gulping, I quickly blurted out a more acceptable reply. ‘I’m sorry. The machine is finished ........... sir.’ ‘That’s better. Now please move yourself and your chair over to the dryer.’ I gulped. Was he going to make me watch the dryer too?
Thankfully (sort of), that was not the case. After moving the wet clothes to the dryer and starting it up, I was once again bent over the back of the chair. Twenty more hard cracks of the sole of the sandal on my already hot bottom soon had me crying out and tears forming in my eyes. But I was given no time to compose my self before being jerked upright and told to take my chair over by the sink. Again I had to sit on my sore bottom and watch as he washed up the load of dishes. I tried to blubber out my apologies and beg him to let me finish the work, but was quickly silenced by his stern glare. I sat there miserably as he washed and rinsed each dish. When he was done, he dried his hands. ‘Go get the stool,’ was all he said. I scurried to bring back the stool and placed it in the middle of the room. I saw that he now had the wet wooden spoon in his hand that had just been washed. ‘Bend over please. As far as you can and grab the rung.’
I did as he said, now standing on tiptoe as I grabbed the footrest of the stool and pulled myself as far over as I could. I twitched as the spoon began tapping on my upturned bottom. ‘Young lady, I have counted each piece of dishware that I just washed. There were a total of 38, so I think it is highly appropriate that you get one swat for each piece. And just so you don’t get cheated, I think you should count each one. Ready?’ I could tell the spoon was hovering and I tensed in anticipation. ‘Yes sir!’ I wailed. SMACK! The wet wood of the spoon stung my tender bottom like bee stings. ‘One!’ I hollered. CRACK! ‘Two!’ SWAT! ‘Ow! Three!’ SPLAT! ‘Wahhh! Owowowow! Please, I’ll be good! Four!’ The blows continued to fall, and I continued to squall and count each one. By twenty, I was bouncing up and down, my buttocks jiggling as I danced in place over the stool. As the last loud crack rang out like a gunshot, I was limp, tears running down my cheeks as I called out the last number. ‘Owwwww! Ahhhh! I’m soooorrry! Thirty eight!’
He gave me a few moments to pull myself together before telling me to stand. I did so haltingly, my hands flying back to grip my bruised, battered bottom. ‘Hands off,’ he warned in a low voice. I let them fall to my sides, sniffling as I stood there, looking at the floor. He then gently led me over to the wall beside the dryer. To my dismay, there was not to be any mercy shown tonight. I was told to put my nose to the wall and stay there until the dryer was finished. It wasn’t a long time – there were only about 15 minutes left on the timer, just enough time for the throbbing in my bottom to ebb somewhat. I was grateful for that as I assumed that my punishment wasn’t over for the evening. I was soon proved correct.
I jumped when the buzzer when off, signalling the end of the drying cycle. My eyes grew wide as he came back into the room, the plastic ruler in his hand. Laying it down on the counter next to me, he gave me my next order. ‘I am going to fold the clothes now. I want you to count each piece that comes out, and then you are going to get one stroke of the ruler for each one. Understood?’ I nodded miserably. ‘Yes sir,’ I mumbled. He began to fold, and I began to count. ‘One.....’
Luckily, it was a small load. By the time he was finished, I had reached 23. He even made me count the socks as two items! As he picked up the pile of clothes, he gave me my next order. ‘Go into the living room. I want you to place yourself across my footstool, bottom in the middle so it’s nice and high. When I get back from putting these away, I want to see that naughty bottom in the air so I can paddle it good!’ He left the room and I stood for a moment, trembling. But the sound of him moving around upstairs soon had me scurrying for the living room. I didn’t want to be caught disobeying his orders. I had just thrown myself over the stool and was laying there, arms crossed on the floor with my face buried in them, when he came back into the room. He sat down on the couch and observed me as I lay there in front of him. ‘Good girl,’ he commented as he patted my bare bottom. ‘You remembered to lay facing to the right so I can spank with my left hand!’ My whole body flushed in embarrassment and I tensed as I waited for the first crack of the ruler.
Tap,tap, tap. ‘How many pieces of laundry was it, naughty girl?’ he asked. I sobbed out a reply. ‘Twenty three sir!’ ‘Good. Now be still and take your punishment. No need to count – I’ll keep track of these.’ I heard the swish as the ruler whistled through the air. The pain exploded in my bottom as it made contact. It lifted and then crashed down again. Over and over it fell. I lost count and prayed that he hadn’t. After one particularly sharp crack, my hand flew back to try to protect my bottom. He grabbed my wrist with his free hand and pinned it to the small of my back. ‘You know better than that, missy!’ he growled. ‘That just earned you a dozen extra.’ By the time the last of the now-thirty-five strokes fell, I was bucking over the stool and my legs were flailing wildly in the air. My hips were rocking from side to side and it took me a few moments to realize he had finished. I lay there sobbing into the carpet until I heard him tell me to get up. With no ceremony or reprieve, I was again directed to the corner of the room. ’30 minutes, young lady. And hands on head,’ he commanded softly. I did as I was told, wishing I could reach down and rub the sting out of my bottom. But I knew the consequences of any such action, and I stayed put.
When the time was over, he came and pulled me from the corner, turning me around and wrapping his arms around me. I melted in to his chest, crying my apologies into his shirt and promising to be a much better girl in the future. He smoothed my hair and rubbed my back. ‘Shhhh, that’s enough. It’s ok,’ he murmured. ‘Now pull your pants up and you can sit and watch TV with me for a while before bed.’ ‘Um, what about the............?’ I asked as I looked up at him shyly. ‘You will leave that in for now,’ he said quietly. ‘When I put you to bed in an hour............’ He stopped when I stuttered out a protest and looked at him in surprise. It was only 8pm now! ‘An hour? I don’t want to go to bed at nine o’clock, damnit! You can’t make me!’I stamped my foot and my hands were clenched into fists at my side, my face scrunched up in a dark pout. His face, which had been loving and approving only seconds before, now clouded over in shock and anger. ‘Don’t argue with me, little girl! You have been very naughty today. I was about to tell you that I would take the plug out when I put you to bed. But because of that childish outburst, not only are you going up to bed now, without any supper as well, but you are going over my knee first for a dose of the hairbrush before I remove it.’ He raised a warning hand as I opened my mouth to protest again. ‘Still giving me lip? Apparently you haven’t learned enough of your lesson yet! Tomorrow morning, you are getting the plug put back in and you will wear it all day to remind you to get your work done!’
Grabbing my by the wrist, he stomped up the stairs, dragging me behind him. I was already crying again as he sat on the edge of the bed and flung me over his right knee. Roughly rolling me from side to side, he yanked my pants back down to my knees, baring my still red bottom. He locked his left leg over both of mine and wrapped his right arm around my waist, grabbing my outside wrist and tucking it under my belly. This was not going to be a gentle bed time spanking. Picking up the hairbrush from the nightstand in his left hand, he began to wail away on my exposed backside. It only took a few strokes before my defiant attitude melted away and I became a contrite little girl again, howling and wailing over his lap as I begged him to stop. My pleas became promises, loud guarantees that I was sorry and would never misbehave again. Still the cracking strokes fell, each one making me buck and writhe over his knee. He had me so effectively pinned down that there was no hope for escape. He smacked my bare skin over and over again with the unyielding wooden brush until I was sobbing and limp, all fight gone from me.
I howled anew when he pulled my swollen buttocks apart to remove the plug. ‘Shhhh, easy girl,’ he said quietly as he popped the plug from between my throbbing cheeks. My pants and panties were now around my ankles and he released his leg lock on me so I could kick them off. He let me lay there for a few moments before slowly guiding me to my feet and around to my side of the bed. He pulled back the covers and I threw myself facedown, clutching my pillow to me and sobbing into it. Placing a fat, fluffy pillow on each side of me by my hips, he gently pulled the sheet up over me, the extra pillows keeping it from settling on my aching behind. As he leaned over to kiss me goodnight, I threw my arm around him and told him again how sorry I was and that I promised to be a good girl in the future. He chuckled. ‘Trying to get out of wearing the plug tomorrow, are we?’ ‘No sir!’ I assured him quickly. ‘I’ll take my punishment – all of it – like a good girl. I promise.’ ‘That’s my babes,’ he smiled. ‘Now goodnight.’ I dropped my head to the pillow and soon drifted off to sleep.
I slept deeply and soundly – the sleep of the contented, one who knows she is loved and cared for. By the time I stirred to his early morning ministrations, I had been out for over ten hours. But with what was coming, it wasn’t long enough. It was only 6:30am – he had to leave at 7. I was lying on my side, curled up in a ball with my back to him. I opened one eye as I felt him pull the covers back and expose my bare bottom, the cool morning air on my bare skin digging in to my consciousness. Groaning, I tried to roll towards him, but he stopped me with a hand on my hip. ‘No, baby, lay still. You’re right where I want you. This won’t take long,’ he whispered. I groaned again as I felt his probing fingers work their way into the crack of my bottom, pulling the top cheek up and uncovering my tight hole. I began to whimper as I felt the tip of the butt plug poking its way in. ‘Deep breath,’ he ordered. ‘And no whining.’ He has a very effective method of inserting butt plugs. I have to take a deep, belly expanding breath of air. This also makes your bottom push out and opens the sphincter. As I do this, he applies firm pressure to the base of the plug. As I breathe out, I have to clench my buttocks, which works to draw the plug in. Breath, clench, breath, clench. Soon, the plug had slid all the way in and was firmly nestled between my cheeks. ‘Remember,’ he warned as he sat beside me and stroked my bottom as he lectured, ‘this is to stay put. You may take it out to use the bathroom but then you will put it back in. Let it remind you to get busy and do what you need to do today. I expect to find it in place when I get home, and there will be an inspection. You’re going to get one more short paddling before I take it out, and then this will all be over. Be a good girl today and get your chores done so we don’t have to prolong this punishment, ok?’ I was not thrilled to hear that I had another paddling coming, but I didn’t want to make the situation worse. ‘Yes sir,’ I mumbled into my pillow. Before he left, he kissed me goodbye and pulled the covers back up over my curled body. Surprisingly, I was able to drift off for another hour or so before the intruder in my butt convinced me to get up and start my day. I dressed slowly and went downstairs, only to find that there was one more surprise waiting for me on the kitchen table...............................Shall I continue?
Monday, September 17, 2007
Your Score: SPANK SLUT
You are 93% spankable!
You loved to be spanked, good and hard, with any available object. You will take it as hard as anyone is willing to give it. You are probably guilty of provoking your lover into spanking you, by flagrant misbehavior or verbal challenges. Hell, your ass is probably red right now. We wouldn�t be surprised if you are standing at the keyboard, because it hurts to sit down.
|Link: The How Spankable Are You Test written by bazz22 on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the The Dating Persona Test|
Thanks to AngelBrat for the link!
Well, yesterday was my birthday! We don't talk about which one anymore, we just celebrate the fact that it is. If we go by the age we feel, I just turned 35 - LOL! Had a very nice day. Went out to dinner the night before and my sweet hubby had to give me my birthday present that night. He's worse than a kid at Christmas - couldn't wait until the day to give it to me. I got a Nintendo Wii - wheeeeee! Having lots of fun with that. Got my birthday spanking TWO days before, on Friday night. We had to pick our time for that as his daughter is visiting and she was out for the evening. Anyway, convinced him to stray from the usual over the bed or over his knee scenario. Ended up bent over the stool in the kitchen while he tried out various kitchen implements on my bare butt. Decided his favorite was this rigid plastic thing that you hold across the edge of a saucepan to drain it. Yeouch!!! Of course, I had NO idea that that would make a good spanking implement when I bought it.............. Yeah, right!
So I got quite a few very sharp smacks with that - enough to make my bottom sting. Then that led to 'other' things - right there in the kitchen! Oh my! No, I won't go into those details here. Suffice to say a good time was had by all. Had ourselves all pulled together and innocently watching TV when the offspring came back in. Thanks for the nice comments - I'll post another fantasy picture soon.
Friday, September 14, 2007
We're driving along - probably going some place I don't want to go. I'm sitting there pouting - there is only stony silence from me. He makes attempts at conversation, all of which I ignore as I stare out the window, arms crossed tightly across my chest. Finally, I hear him growl. 'Young lady, if you don't straighten up, I swear I'll pull this car over and spank that mood right out of you!' I mumble a reply under my breath - 'Yeah, right!' Big mistake. I didn't say it quietly enough. He suddenly makes a hard right turn down a country lane. Once out of sight of the main road, he slides the car to a halt in a cloud of dust. I sit there, wide-eyed, as he storms over to my side of the car and yanks the door open. Grabbing my arm, he pulls me out of the car. 'No! Wait! I'm sorry! I'll behave, I promise!' I stutter in protest. Too late. I find myself face down, laying across the warm hood of the car. I gasp as he rapidly dispatches my pants and panties to my knees. Feelings of panic at being discovered bare bottomed on the side of the road are soon forgotten as he delivers hard, fast smacks to my bottom. All worries of being seen or heard are no longer an issue - each loud slap is followed by an equally loud squeal from me. When my bottom is hot and red, and I am yelling out my apologies and my promises to be good, he stops. I bolt upright, rubbing my bottom and dancing in the dirt until I am told to get my pants up and get back in the car. I do so, lowering myself gingerly in to my seat. He gets back behind the wheel, turns the car around, and goes back to the main road. And just when I think my ordeal is over, he informs me sternly that the minute we get home, I am to drop my pants and go straight to the corner for 30 minutes. I start to breathe easier. I can handle half an hour with my red backside on display. But my stomach plummets when he continues and tells me that my punishment is not over! After my cornertime, he says, he is going to put me over his knee and take the hairbrush to my naughty behind until he is sure I have learned my lesson! The rest of the trip is spent in a different kind of silence........................................
So there you go. Pictures like this can really get my mind rolling along. The challenge is to figure out how to make these things happen - LOL! I also really like the handprint that shows up in this picture. Gives it a great reality factor.
Anyone want to hear any more of my picture fantasies?