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?