Post Number: 7
|Posted on Saturday, January 06, 2007 - 08:45 pm: ||
Adding up to Counting - by Brennarose
I have really been very good lately, no really!!! In fact my poor dear husband has been working so many hours, I have gotten away with murder for over a month now. All good things must come to an end, I fear, and he is back to a normal schedule. While I delight in his being able to spend more time with me, it does not fare well for my poor bottom; I'm afraid to say. And this is how my misbehavior added up to counting.
I have pushed my limits for over a month, knowing full well with my son out of school and hubby's work schedule that at best I would get a little spanking and a scolding. Pish, posh! I can take that with no problem. However, I must have been temporarily insane if I thought he wasn't keeping track of all my little transgressions. Happily unaware, I awoke on a recent day off we had together -- alone -- and started my day with a lovely cup of coffee and some toast. In walks my diligent husband with a look on his face that I know well. Oops.
"Well, young lady, you have been having yourself quite a time lately, have you not?" he asked in his deep voice with a crook of one dark brow.
"Umm, what do you mean, Sir?" I asked in my sweetest, most innocent voice; determining that calling him Sir at this point was a very good idea.
"Would you like to add fibbing to your list of bad behavior, little girl?" he inquired politely.
"No, Sir" I shook my head emphatically.
"Good, I thought not. Come with me please." and he held out his hand. I tried staring at it like it was a snake about to bite, but he merely stood there patiently until I placed my hand in his and then he led me to the bedroom. Now he does not usually do punishments in the bedroom, but I have been having stomach problems and he doesn't want to put extra pressure on the area. How considerate of him.
Once we were inside, he closed the door and adjusted the lighting to his satisfaction before standing me in front of him.
My heart is starting to accelerate since I am very familiar with this little ritual. He pulls me close and gives me a little kiss, then he tells me.
"Now then, young lady, I believe we have a few things to discuss, do we not?" obviously a rhetorical question, so I keep silent. "You have been out of control for at least a month." (six weeks, but whose counting? Oh yeah, I will be).
"You have been sassy, you have disobeyed me and then practically taunted me with my inability to deal with your behavior right that moment and all of that is disrespectful, is it not?" I nod.
"In English, little girl" he snaps.
"Yes, Sir." I say softly.
"And we are going to deal with all of that right now." Before I can even worry about it, I am over his knee. The upper part of my body is braced on the bed and I feel him quickly pulling up my nightie and pulling down my panties.
"You are not going to be sassy with me, little lady." and with that statement, he begins to sear my bare bottom with the palm of his hand. I start to fear that my lack of spankings lately has left my poor bottom more vulnerable because this is really hurting and I am squirming and yelping with each smack which continues for a bit. I am beginning to feel a decided fire in my rear regions, and it is not a pleasant one.
"How many spankings is it going to take before you learn to watch that little mouth of yours?" he asks as he smacks.
Now I ask you, how do you answer that question? There is NO good answer. So I don't. The smacks get harder and I am starting to promise to behave, if he will stop.
"I asked you a question, little girl. How many?" he demanded. Now that sparked a little temper and one should remember not to have temper outbursts when one is over the knee getting spanked.
"100" I yelled loudly with attitude.
"Fine, 100 it is" he agreed continuing to spank my now reddened behind.
"No, I didn't mean it" I yell but he ignores me.
After about another minute, he stops and tells me to stand up and not to dare pull up my pants or rub my naughty bottom. He goes to his implement bag which is not a good sign and retrieves the CB paddle and his big paddle. I immediately start to whine. I have a definite hate for all things wood in the implement line. He brings them back over and pulls me back over his knee. He proceeds to give me 15 ringing whacks of the CB on my already sore bottom. I am frantically squirming and yelping and the tears are in my eyes by the time he finishes. He tells me to stand up again and goes and gets my corner stool and places it next to the bed.
"Brenna, bend over the stool and put your head down on the bed, arms out straight in front of you. I am going to give you 15 with the Big Paddle and you are going to count and thank me for each one, do you understand?
"Yes, Sir" I whimper as I assume the horrible position over the stool. It is taller than the bed so my bottom is sticking way up and very vulnerable. He lifts my nightie clear of his target and begins.
"Good, now if you get up or cover up, I will start over. Do you understand that?"
"Yes, Sir" I whimper again, burying my face in the covers.
"You are not going to disobey me and act like a disrespectful, out of control brat any more, are you? Because it is against our rules, is it not? he asks quietly.
"Yes, Sir" I whisper. He lets it slide as he usually makes me answer in a clear tone.
And then he lines up the paddle which is about 15 inches long and about 3 inches wide and cracks it hard against my bare bottom. Oh my God! I forgot how much that stings.
"One, thank you Sir" I yelp, gasping.
CRACK "Two, thank you Sir" CRACK "Three, thank you Sir" CRACK. The tears start to flow and I start to cry.
"How many?" he asks sternly.
"Four" I sob
"Say it correctly, young lady!" he demands.
"Four, thank you, Sir" And he continues laying down the hot burning strokes across my bottom, each one burning and throbbing into the one before it until I can barely speak for the sobs. Finally, we reach 15. He leaves me there for a minute and then tells me to get up and pull up my panties. I obey him, shaking and crying. He spends some time putting every thing away and then returns to sit on the bed in front of me. He pulls me down to sit on his lap and I yelp as my bottom makes contact with his knee. I am really sore.
"Now, do you understand that I am not going to let you get away with behavior that we agree is not acceptable" he asks me quietly.
"Yes, Sir" I sob into his shoulder.
"I love you, Baby. And I think you need to know that I am here always even if I can't be with you every minute. I think you needed to know that you can't get away with that type of behavior. Am I right or am I wrong?" he asks softly.
"Right" I sniff forlornly.
He stands me back up and pulls me back over his knee. I react in fear as I feel my nightie once again being raised and my panties lowered to my knees.
"Be still." He tells me quietly.
He starts to gently rub my burning, sore bottom. I whimper at first because it hurts to touch and it makes me cry more, but it starts to feel a little better after a minute or two. Then he pulls me back to my feet and lets me pull my panties back up.
"All better, little one?" he asks me, smiling. When I give him a watery nod, he pulls me into his big strong arms and gives me a kiss that makes me start to think about other things than my sore bottom.