And Now, the Spanking

Here’s the spanking that yesterday’s post was referring to:

“Come here, Haley.”

She didn’t say anything; she just turned, let her arms down, and walked over, shaking them out. I knew they had to hurt. Once she got to my side, I pointed to the bed, where I’d stacked all of her pillows. “All fours and over. Now.”

“Lauren…”

I just pointed again, this time with the paddle. “Do it now, or I send you back to the corner.”

She did it. I watched Haley as she knelt on the bed, tucked her legs together, and then arranged herself over the pillows. Her forehead was pressed to the bedspread, hands tangled in it; her pale, rounded backside was the highest point on her body. Clearly she had been in this position before.

I measured the distance with the paddle, swinging it lightly, gently tapping Haley’s bottom, and she whimpered. “Please,” she whispered. “Please, just get it over with.”

She was scared — really, truly scared — and it was me who was scaring her. That was both encouraging and a little sad; we’d really hit it off today. But the intellectual part of my brain said it was just that she was about to get spanked by someone new, and she didn’t know what to expect.

Time for her to learn.

“Why are you getting punished, Haley?”

She looked to me, one blue eye visible and just this side of glistening with tears. “Wh… what?”

I tapped her bottom again, only a little harder, enough to make a tiny popping noise. “Why am I punishing you?”

She let out a long, shaky sigh, and then answered. “I almost hit Kelly. Hitting isn’t allowed.” Haley sounded younger — littler, I suppose. I guess when she was bad, her little side came out. I wondered if all the girls were like that.

I realized she was still looking at me. Waiting for me to play my part. I gave her a nod. “No, Haley. It’s not. You could’ve really hurt her. And now you need to be reminded what happens to bad girls who try to hit.” I paused. “Tell me, Haley.”

“They…” She swallowed hard. “Th-they get p-paddled.”

“Yes, Haley. They do.”

And, before she could look away, I swung, hard as I could.

The thick piece of plywood met the soft flesh of Haley’s bottom with a tremendous CRACK! She yelped and buried her face in the bedspread.

I didn’t give her time to recover. Another swing, another CRACK!, and now there were two large red marks right across the lower part of Haley’s backside.

This being a punishment, there was no way I was going to let her off easy. And the rest of the girls had to know that this was what was coming to them if they stepped out of line.

So I punished Haley. I paddled her hard, and fast, filling the room with the report of wood on flesh and the sound of Haley’s helpless, hopeless cries, cries that quickly became little sobs that even more quickly became huge, body-wracking ones.

I kept count mentally, though, and after twenty-five whacks, I shifted the paddle to my other hand and moved closer to the bed to inspect my handiwork.

Haley’s ass was crimson, turning purple in a couple of places. I’d aimed for the lower part of her bottom, her sit-spots, like I always did. She was absolutely going to remember this for a few days. And, when I ran my palm over the marks, they were hot under my skin. She squirmed when I did, whimpering, still crying, although not as hard as before.

“Haley,” I said, sliding my hand upward to rub her lower back. “Haley, look at me.”

She shook her head, red hair shifting from side to side.

“Look at me, Haley, or I do it all again.”

That got her. She turned her head to face me, her eyes red and swollen, cheeks pink. “I’m s-sorry, L-L-Lauren,” she stammered out.

“I know, honey. I know.” I kept rubbing. “I’m going to give you five more spanks–“

“But Lauren–“

“Stop,” I said, my tone sharp. She stopped. “Five more swats. You’re going to count them, and you’re going to thank me for paddling you after each one. Is that clear?”

I could tell she wanted to protest, but by now I think she knew better. She merely nodded.

“Good girl.”

I got back into position. She mashed her face back into the bedspread.

CRACK!

I don’t do warning shots.

“Thank you for spanking me. I know I deserve it.”

Ten very powerful words that I use to great effect when I have to give a big punishment. I haven’t had to do one in a while, but if you’re told to say those words after each swat, you know you fucked up good.

Another thing I have in common with Lauren: I believe punishments should be “shock and awe” — the intensity and agony of them should shock you into believing I will do it again if needed, as well as awe you at how much pain you’ll be in if you step out of line. I think there’s at least one person reading this blog who knows that all too well.

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