Lauren slapped her alarm clock off, still groggy after a night of bad sleep. She had dreamt all night about her coming spanking; they had not been good dreams. She was a little embarrassed to realize that she had, in her sleep, rolled over onto her stomach and pushed her pillows down under her pelvis as though she was getting into a spanking position. Her nightshirt had drifted up leaving her butt exposed to the cool morning air. It really wasn’t any wonder, she supposed, considering that last night was the first time she had ever gone to sleep knowing without any doubt that she was getting spanked the next day.
That thought gave her pause. How absurd was this anyway? She was about to submit to a spanking . . . and she hadn’t even done anything wrong. She thought about it for a moment, though, and decided that what she had done was lose a gamble. She had bet that the only way to keep Don from giving her a worse punishment was to distract him by ASKING for the punishment that she was now facing. She had, it turned out, bet wrong, but now she had to face the consequences.
She was also embarrassed to realize just how horny she had woken up; she hoped it had nothing to do with her dreams. She thought momentarily about her vibrator, but a glance at her clock confirmed that she didn’t have enough time. She’d just have to take care of it after breakfast.
She stopped at her mirror to make a last check of her pubic region. She had trimmed the remaining patch of hair down to the quarter-inch requirement that Don had laid out. She had to admit . . . it looked kind of classy that way.
Lauren sighed, pulled on a pair of shorts, and went out to the kitchen to start some eggs.
***
Lauren was putting breakfast on the table just as the clock hit 7 and Don walked out of his room. “Good morning, Lauren,” he said, sitting down to his eggs and bacon.
“Good morning, sir.” She sat down across from him with her own plate.
“So, what are your plans for the day?”
Was he serious? He couldn’t possibly have forgotten about the promised punishment . . . not after it had kept her restlessly worried all night. “Well, I have a group meeting at 2:00, sir, so I thought I’d prepare for that until about 9:30 and then get ready for my . . . my spanking.”
Don stared at her for a moment. “I see. So I assume you’ll want your punishment to be over by about 1:00 to give you enough time to get cleaned up and get to your meeting?”
“Um, yes, that would be nice, sir.”
“Lauren, you realize, I think, that what you appear to be doing is trying to retake control of the situation by backstopping your punishment.” She hadn’t thought of that. “Since you’re so determined to have some control, I’m going to give you a choice about your consequences: you may either call all of your group members to tell them that you might be late for the meeting and explain why, or you may accept a paddling right after breakfast. I’ll give you to the end of breakfast to decide which.”
“I’m sorry . . . I . . . I didn’t mean to . . . please—”
“I don’t want to hear it, Lauren. Spend your energy deciding which consequence you’re going to take.” He grabbed his newspaper and began reading it.
Lauren ate her now-tasteless breakfast and considered her options. Not that there was really much of an option, she figured. Don had to know that she couldn’t endure the humiliation of revealing to others this strange arrangement she had agreed to—and once she told a few, she could be sure that everyone in her classes would soon know! But a paddling? And only as a prelude to the longer punishment she’d soon be undergoing? Worse, she realized, the more she thought about her options and the inevitability of some sort of punishment, the hornier she became.
All too soon, Don looked up from his newspaper. “Well, Lauren, what will it be?”
“The paddle. I’ll take a paddling, sir.”
“Ok, then. Pull down your shorts . . . clear the table . . . and go retrieve your paddle and a pillow from your room.” She hoped that it was just a coincidence that her horniness surged with each of his commands as she stood up to comply. She pulled her shorts about half-way down her thighs and then proceeded to clear the table and load the dishwasher. The shorts hobbled her a lot more than her panties normally did, so the table-clearing took some time. Meanwhile, she was nervous about Don commenting on her new look—this would be the first time he would be seeing her with her properly-groomed pubic area—but he didn’t look up from his paper until she came out of her room holding the paddle and pillow.
Don took both from her and folded up the pillow to place it against the edge of the table. “Bend over, Lauren.” She did so. “Your elbows are not to leave the table. I recommend holding on to the edge of the table if that will help.”
With the extra height of the pillow, she was forced up onto her toes to comply. And now she had another fear: the soft pressure of the pillow on her mons pubis. She was sure the paddling would force her to rub against it, and as horny as she was. . .
“Lauren,” Don brought her mind away from that thought. “Does thirty sound fair to you?”
THIRTY?!? With the paddle—and she still had her long punishment later today? “Sir, please . . . I know what I did was wrong, and I’m sorry, but thirty—”
Don placed the paddle under her chin, silencing her and tilting her face up toward him all in one motion. “Let me clarify, Lauren. This isn’t a negotiation. You’re getting thirty.”
“Yes, sir.”
That settled, Don wasted no time getting started.
whistle. . . POP! Even knowing it was coming, the first one still managed to take Lauren by surprise, and she yelled out in pain.
whistle. . . POP! “This is good, Lauren. . .”
whistle. . . POP! “I’m playing tennis later. . .”
whistle. . . POP! “And this is a good warm-up.”
whistle. . . POP! “I can go forehand. . .”
whistle. . . POP! “Or backhand. . .”
whistle. . . POP! “Or two-handed.”
whistle. . . POP! She was already sobbing and lifting first one leg, then the other, but she maintained a firm grasp on the edge of the table and kept her elbows on the table.
whistle. . . POP! Despite the pain, each stroke sent a pulse through her loins and pushed her higher toward her peak.
whistle. . . POP! She was fighting it, putting more effort into that than into holding still.
whistle. . . POP! Closer. . .
whistle. . . POP! Closer. . .
whistle. . . POP! She couldn’t hold it any longer. . .
whistle. . . POP! She bucked wildly and yelled out, vaguely aware of Don admonishing her to hold still.
The rest of the paddling passed in a haze. She must’ve looked like a broken woman as she sobbed limply on the table, absolutely humiliated at what the paddle had driven her to. She hoped. . . she PRAYED. . . that Don thought her thrashing legs and arching back had simply been a reaction to a particularly painful blow. Somehow. . . she didn’t know how. . . she had managed to keep her elbows on the table.
She only became truly aware that the paddling was over when Don walked up to her winding up a kitchen timer. He placed it on the small of her back where she could hear its incessant ticking, patted her reddened behind, and walked around to tilt her tear-slickened face up toward him.
“You will stay here until the timer goes off, Lauren, and while you are here, you will think about why you were punished. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir,” she sniffled.
As she stood bent over the table, butt throbbing, Lauren decided that, being honest with herself, she had, in fact, been trying to exercise some control over her coming punishment. She’d avoided telling Don about her meeting until it would be too late for him to move her punishment up. So, now, without the coercive threat of the paddle, she finally honestly acknowledged that she had deserved her punishment.
Now, though, she was just hoping that the timer would go off soon. Her horniness was returning the longer that she stood there, and she wanted time to take care of it before her punishment. She did NOT want to be brought to orgasm again while being spanked.
Tick, tick, tick. . . damn, every second left her hornier and with less time to take care of it. She tried to think bland thoughts, but her mind kept wandering, understandably back to the burn in her backside and the punishment to come—and somehow the two made her ever hornier.
DING! Finally, the alarm went off. Lauren reached back and pulled it off her back, then pulled up her shorts and practically ran into her room. There, she went immediately to her panty drawer to find her vibrator.
Fifteen minutes later, with no relief forthcoming and frustration mounting, Lauren knew what she had to do. She stood up and bent over with her back to her mirror. Looking back, she saw that her normally ivory butt was already reddened from her earlier paddling—and she still had so much more to go!
She felt tears coming on but fought them back to focus on the task at hand. Pressing the vibrator against herself, she thought, “Mr. Arden is going to spank you. You’re going to do as you’re told, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
She repeated the thought over and over until it came suddenly and intensely. Finally, relief.
Mission accomplished, Lauren hurried to the shower to clean up.
At exactly 9:30, Lauren walked out of her room carrying her paddle, strap, and apology letter. She placed them on the coffee table, then took off her shoes and jeans, folding the latter and placing them on the table also.
She then walked over to the corner she had spent facing for so long yesterday and pulled her panties down, ensuring that they turned inside out and rested halfway between her knees and the fully-up position. It was in one way a little bit of a relief to pull her panties down; with her remaining pubic hair cut so short, it was stiff and caused a lot of itchiness as it brushed up against the inside of her panties. With that thought, she allowed herself a momentary break in position for a quick scratch, then returned her hands to the top of her head and waited.
“Lauren, come over here.” She took a deep breath. This was it. She was going to get the longest, hardest spanking she had ever gotten. She turned and shuffled over to Don, careful to keep her fingers laced behind her head and her panties above her knees.
Don looked her up and down and then reached out to gently brush her tiny pubic triangle. “Good job with your pussy, Lauren.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“How much did that cost you?”
“$120, sir.”
He whistled. “That’s going to be difficult to maintain on $400 per month, huh?”
“Now that it’s done, sir, I think I can maintain it with a razor on my own.”
“Good. The whole point of that rule is an exercise in discipline. If I wanted to make it easy for you, I would have just told you to shave completely. Read me your letter.”
She leaned over to pick up the letter, then began without any introduction.
Sir,
I want to take this opportunity to apologize for my long history of disrespect to men. I think I have always known that it was wrong for me to treat men as equals. I am not under the common illusion that respect is a two-way street. It is one-way—younger to elder, female to male, inferior to superior—and granted in the other direction only at the pleasure of the superior. I need to be spanked for my past transgressions, sir, and I thank you for taking the time to discipline me. I am sure that this will not be the last time that I need to be punished, but I will strive to treat all men with the proper respect in the future.
This behavior is wrong, sir, because it is not proper for me to fail to treat men with their due deference. It is compounded by the fact that I have allowed myself to be placed in positions of authority over men which has created the false belief that it is appropriate for me to give them commands instead of requests and that I do not have to treat their requests as commands. I know now that this is wrong, and I will strive to treat every request from a man as a command from you. I will also address them all properly as “sir” or “Mr.” plus their last name.
I sincerely hope that you will punish me severely for my past transgressions, sir.
Respectfully,
Lauren
By the end, Lauren found that she was already fighting back tears. She waited nervously for Don’s response. He frowned. “Lauren, you had two tasks to accomplish last night. What were they?”
She thought for a moment, confused. “Oh. I had to write a letter of apology and trim my . . . my pussy, sir.”
He reached out casually and traced a finger around the outline of her pus—of her pubic triangle. She was NOT going to start thinking that word even if she did have to say it! “And you did a good job with the second. But what was the criterion for the letter, Lauren.”
She thought again for a moment. “It was supposed to be 1000 words long, sir.”
“Right. That letter you just read to me is nowhere near long enough, Lauren. I guess I know that the only way to get you to do what you’re supposed to is to promise you a harsh punishment if you fail. But don’t worry, you’re going to get an extra special punishment for this failure, too.”
“I—I’m sorry, si—”
“This is absolutely unacceptable, Lauren, and I am not going to listen to any excuses. No, here’s what’s going to happen. You are going to get the punishment that I promised you right now. Tomorrow, at this same time, you are going to read me a proper-length apology letter, and then I am going to tell you what your punishment for this little bit of defiance is going to be. And I promise you, Lauren, you are going to find the punishment humiliating—but no moreso than you deserve for your improperly superior attitude toward men all these years.” Humiliating? She was a grown woman about to be spanked. She was forced to stand here half-naked in front of the man who was about to give the spanking. And she no longer had control over how she trimmed her own pus—pubic area. What could possibly be MORE humiliating? “Do you understand me, Lauren?”
“Yes, sir. Thank you.”
“Then, get over my knee, and let’s get this started.”
She complied without hesitation. As she bent over, however, Don moved his right leg so that she was only over his left leg. He brought his right leg back to pin her legs from behind. As Lauren settled in, Don rested his hand on her left cheek, the tips of his fingers just barely grazing her crack. “As always, Lauren, you will not interfere with the spanking, swear, or tell me that you can’t take any more. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now, it is, of course, important that you understand why you are being spanked. Otherwise, the punishment wouldn’t be as effective. So, tell me, Lauren, why are you about to get the longest, hardest spanking of your life?”
“Sir, you’re about to spank me for my history of being disrespectful toward men and taking a superior attitude toward them. I’m very sorry, sir.”
“I’m sure you are. The question is, are you sorry for being disrespectful toward men, or sorry because you’re about to be spanked for being disrespectful toward men?”
“I’m sorry for being disrespectful toward men, sir. It’s wrong, and I deserve. . . to be spanked.”
“Anything else, Lauren?”
“Sir, can I. . . can I know how many spanks I’m going to get?” She looked back over her shoulder pleadingly.
Don pursed his lips for a moment. “I had intended for your not knowing how long the spanking was going to last to be part of your punishment, Lauren, but I’ll meet you half-way. Today, you are going to get more with my hand than with the paddle and more with the paddle than with the strap. Now let’s get started.”
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Right from the start. . .
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! It was clear that Don had not been exaggerating. . .
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! When he had promised her her hardest spanking ever.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Lauren had sworn to herself that she wouldn’t cry. . .
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! At least through the first session. . .
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! But she quickly realized that that was a promise in vain.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! As the tears turned to sobbing, she acted. . .
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Half on thought and half on instinct.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Lauren clenched her butt cheeks together as hard as she could.
THWAP! THWAP! “Damn it! Knock it off Lauren!”
She ignored him until she felt him prying her cheeks apart and touching the rim of her anus. “Lauren, I’m quite sure I can think of ways to make it uncomfortable for you to clench.”
She unclenched immediately but turned and looked over her shoulder imploringly. “Please, sir, just not so hard. I can’t take much more like this.”
Don stared back for a moment before moving his right leg to free Lauren’s. “Roll over, Lauren.”
She did so, confused and unsure of what to do with her arms now that she was laying on her back on Don’s lap. She settled for using them to keep her t-shirt covering her breasts. Don traced his left index finger around her navel and his right index finger around her pubic hair.
“Lauren, we are barely into the warm up of what is going to be a long, hard spanking, so you had better get any ideas of leniency out of your head. I already warned you once, so consider this your final warning: do not tell me you can’t take any more. Do you understand?”
Lauren gulped, “Yes, sir.”
“Good. Then roll back over.” She did so, and Don restarted without further comment.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! If anything. . .
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! The spanks. . .
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Were even. . .
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Harder now.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! And now. . .
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! He switched from smacking. . .
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Both cheeks. . .
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! At once. . .
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! To striking. . .
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! First one cheek. . .
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! And then the next. . .
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Six times in a row. . .
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! VERY hard.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Despite her best efforts. . .
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Lauren was sobbing. . .
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! And kicking her legs.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! “I’m sorry. . .
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! “I’ll be. . .
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! “More respectful.”
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! And Lauren couldn’t manage. . .
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! To get any more out. . .
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! As Don finished. . .
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! In a flurry. . .
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Of the hardest spanks yet.
SMACK!
“Get up, Lauren.”
She did so, still choking back sobs, and was surprised to discover that her panties hadn’t moved much despite all of her kicking. Don stood with her, grabbed her left arm to turn her around, and gave one more sharp smack to her left cheek. “In the corner, Lauren. I’ll call you over when it’s time for your next set.”
“Yes [sob] sir.” She shuffled over to the corner, grasping her forearms behind her back in what she had come to think of as Position 2, and waited with her nose against the wall.
While she was waiting, Lauren thought about what lay ahead for her. She had tried to keep count during the spanking and was pretty sure that she had received about 100 spanks. At least now she knew the upper limit to how many whacks of the paddle and strap she would receive. “Oh, God,” she thought, “the strap.” She’d never received the strap before and was, frankly, terrified of it.
Thankfully, Don didn’t leave her long to think about it.
“Lauren, come here. Bring your paddle.”
She shivered at the command and murmured a barely audible, “Yes, sir.” He hadn’t told her that that was necessary, but she suddenly felt it proper to not simply do as he instructed but to acknowledge out loud that she was doing things because he had told her to do them.
She shuffled away from her corner, keeping her hands behind her back until she needed to bend over and pick her paddle up off of the coffee table. Then, she shuffled over to Don, presenting him with the paddle and awaiting further instructions.
“Okay, Lauren, now bend over the back of the couch.”
She shuddered again. “Yes, sir.” At least, she thought, she wasn’t combating the terrible horniness from earlier this morning. Just that thought, though, was enough to stir a vague tingling in her nether regions.
As before, Don began without any lecture.
whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! Lauren wasn’t sure . . .
whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! if it was her imagination . . .
whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! or her butt already being . . .
whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! so sore from her earlier . . .
whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! spankings, but it sure felt . . .
whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! like this was a lot harder . . .
whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! than her earlier paddling.
whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! She’d been crying since . . .
whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! the third pop. . .
whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! and now realized. . .
whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! that her tears . . .
whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! were puddling . . .
whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! on the couch cushion . . .
whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! in front of her.
whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! She shifted . . .
whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! from one foot . . .
whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! to the other . . .
whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! but it seemed . . .
whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! to have . . .
whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! whistle. . . POP! no effect.
“Get up, Lauren.” She was shocked. She was sure that had only been sixty, and she had certainly expected more. After the momentary shock, though, she wasted no time in pushing herself up.
Don handed her her paddle. “Go hang up your paddle and then back to your corner.”
“Yes, sir.”
The wait this time had been much longer. Lauren wasn’t sure if Don had decided she needed a longer break or if this was simply his way of stretching her punishment out. Either way, she had had to switch between Position 1 and Position 2 and back three times since her paddling and had maintained firm contact between her nose and the wall the whole time. She could hear Don moving about the apartment; he certainly wasn’t losing his day to this punishment.
She sighed, and she wasn’t sure if Don heard and was reminded of her presence or if he’d already been planning on this time. “Lauren, grab your strap and come over here.”
She turned with a, “Yes, sir,” shuffled over and retrieved her strap. She felt the heft of it as she carried it and gulped, then met Don in the middle of the living room. She handed Don the strap.
“Lauren, bend over and grab your ankles.”
“Yes, sir.” Years of gymnastics made this an easy task, but it didn’t leave her feeling any less vulnerable or embarrassed at the way she was exposing herself.
For the third time, Don began with no preamble.
CRACK! She screamed and jumped up before she even realized she’d felt anything. It had felt like someone had laid a band of hot metal across her butt.
Don had grabbed her arm in an instant. “Bend back over, Lauren! And do NOT do that again!”
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir.” Tears were already welling out of her eyes as she bent over and grabbed her ankles.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! No more than sixty . . .
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Oh, God—how was she . . .
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Going to make it . . .
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Fifty more?
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! She was sobbing now,
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Her nose running.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! “AUUGH!”
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! “Please [sob]”
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! “Stop!”
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! But Don ignored her
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! And moved on to her thighs
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Great—no short dresses for a while
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! She somehow thought.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Now she braced herself
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! For what she was sure would be
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! A flurry of extra hard final slaps
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! But they didn’t seem to be getting harder.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Was Don showing her
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Some mercy?
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Finally . . .
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Wait! Not fair! Lauren stood up.
“Lauren, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“You [sob] said no more [sob] with the strap [sob] than with [sob] the paddle [sob] sir.”
“I said no more today, Lauren. Are you forgetting about your earlier paddling already? Do you need a reminder?”
Lauren paled. He was counting the earlier paddling. That was an extra THIRTY!
“Now bend back over Lauren. You’re going to get five more than I planned on for this.”
She sobbed anew as she bent over, “Y-y-yes [sob] sir.”
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Oh, God, it felt like it would never end.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Yikes, he was definitely hitting harder now.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! “And don’t you. . .
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! “EVER . . .
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! “Get up . . .
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! “Until I tell you to!
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! “Do you understand, Lauren?”
“Y-y-yes [sob] sir.”
“Good. Then get up.”
Lauren slowly unbent and took the strap that Don thrust at her. “Hang it up and go back to your corner.”
She complied, shuffling along with her panties still miraculously at her knees.
Back in her corner, Lauren wondered how long Don was going to leave her there. It was very possible at this point that she was, in fact, going to be late for her group meeting. “Lauren, come over here.”
“Yes [sniff] sir.” She had fortunately managed to get her crying mostly under control in the few minutes that Don had allowed her. She shuffled over to stand in front of where Don was sitting on the living room couch.
“Lauren, I’m making some changes for tomorrow. Since you have to work, we will meet here at 6:30 pm. Go get yourself a pen and a piece of paper.”
She paused for a second, surprised at the command, then murmured, “Yes, sir,” as she shuffled to her room to comply. Back with the pen and paper, she stood again in front of Don, her hands on top of her head.
“I’m not going to have you rewrite that letter, Lauren. There’s no sense assigning you something at which you’ve proven unable to succeed.” Lauren flinched at that. She was perfectly capable of writing a 1000-word letter. She had just forgotten the requirement. “No, instead, Lauren, you are going to write this statement five hundred times.” He gestured to the coffee table. “Write this down, Lauren.”
She crouched down to lean against the table and Don started slowly dictating:
“I will pay careful attention to what I am told to do so that I do not fail to obey the commands of my superiors. Forgetting is not an excuse for failure, and I will always request and accept punishment for failure no matter the reason. My three most important tasks on any given day are: obeying Don and all other men, being respectful to Don and all other men, and keeping my pussy properly trimmed.”
Lauren blinked back tears as the passage got longer. Five hundred times by hand?! This would take her hours to write out!
When he was done, Don had her read the passage back to him—in part, she suspected, to force her to say “pussy” again—and then told her she could pull her panties back up and go get cleaned up. With the latter, Lauren happily complied.
***