Story type thing

     Ok peeps. Here's a story type deal. It's more of a glimpse into one long moment of someone's life.
I don't really write stories. I write scenes, moments. So don't expect this one to continue ... although I'm working on more *ahem* happy ending :D

     Thanks go to Alyx for helping with the editing :)

 
      You stand before me ashamed and contrite. I reach forward to undo the button and zipper of your shorts then let them fall to the ground. Your panties quickly follow. I pull you down across my lap and adjust you so your legs and upper body are comfortably resting along the couch. You’re going to be here for awhile. I pat your bottom lightly and adjust you slightly to allow for a comfortable and effective swing of my arm.

     Once I’m satisfied, my palm comes down hard on your naked cheeks. You jump at the impact, I jump at the sound. It’s not often I find myself in this position. It’s usually me who is over your lap being spanked for one misdeed or another but what you’ve done is unacceptable and you need to be punished.

     My hand comes down again and again. Hard and fast. You ball your hands into fists and press your forehead into the couch cushion but you don’t squirm and wriggle, you don’t whine and plead. You’re setting a fine example of how a good girl takes her punishment but I know you don’t expect the same from me. We both know better.
   
     The spanking continues until your bottom is uniformly red and hot, then I focus on your sit spots and upper thighs. Now you start to squirm. Squirm and gasp in pain. You begin to kick your legs. Not much though, just a little, drumming them into the cushion. The pain in the palm of my hand becomes too much and I pause to open and close it trying to work out some of the sting. That’s when I hear you sniffle. You’re not crying but there’s definitely a tear or two that has escaped.

     I look at my red and slightly swollen palm and realize it’s time.

     I reach behind me and pull out a wooden spatula. I rest it on your cheeks and watch as your entire body tenses. I lift the spatula up high and you hold your breath waiting for the impact, but it doesn’t come. I hesitate and rest it back on your scorched cheeks. I know how painful this implement is. You’ve used it to spank me to tears and beyond on more occasions than I care to remember.

     It’s very sturdy, made from bamboo. It’s light weight and doesn’t feel very menacing but it imparts a fearsome sting. Especially when it’s wielded by someone who knows how to snap their wrist just right at the point of impact. I would rather have the fires of Hell dancing across my ass than be spanked with this thing! But we both know you deserve this.

     I lift my arm again and bring it down hard. You arch your back, lifting your head as you cry out at the pain. I bring it down again and again. You grip the cushion desperately as you cry and buck your hips trying to avoid the unbearable burning pain that this implement imparts on your already sore, red cheeks. I’m careful to cover your entire bottom but I focus on your sit spots, carefully watching for bruising. I know from experience that a very long, hard, painful spanking can be endured with this thing and result in little or none but I worry about hurting you.

     I pause again. You’re crying now and breathing hard. I want this to be over now but I know it’s not finished. I look down at the painful scarlet colour painted across your ass and the tops of your thighs. I take a deep, calming breath and give the order “spread your legs.” You want to refuse, to shake your head and say no but you’ve punished me for such behaviour many times and you refuse to be a hypocrite. You slowly spread your legs apart but it’s not enough.

     “Farther,” I order.

     You take a deep breath then obey. Spreading you legs far enough that I have complete access to your inner thighs. You’ve only punished me this way once before and you had to hold me down to do it. I wonder if I’ll have to do the same to you. I decide it would be merciful as I know how excruciating this will be, so I pull my right leg out from under you and press it down firmly across the backs of your legs. I then twist my body around so I’m at a better angle.

     You would have my wrist pinned to my lower back at this point. I’m not very good at keeping my hands out of the way. I wonder if I should order you to give me your hand but I decide to let you be in control of that. I grab a small throw pillow and pass it to you. You give me a small tearful smile, letting me know you’re not angry, you know you deserve this. You grip the pillow with all your strength and bury your face in it. You know you won’t be able to hold it in.

     I bring the spatula down hard on the sensitive flesh of your upper right inner thigh and you cry out into the pillow. I don’t want to draw this out so the next spank follows quickly, just above the first. Two more on the inside of the left and I decide it’s done. You’re crying hard now. I know you’re in pain but you’re also releasing your guilt. You’ve been punished. I wriggle out from under you and curl up at your side, wrapping my arm around you and burying my face in your neck.

     Now you’re forgiven.