I knew my breathing became more rapid and shallow, as I watched him get ready. He had taken the belt to my bottom a few times, in play, but that was done so very lightly, it was almost all noise, little sting, and less residual pinkness after.This, I knew, was going to be horribly different.
I had been on the recieving end of the belt a few times growing up; it was reserved as a final lesson by Daddy, those times I had really overstepped my bounds, or had re-acted up soon after a brush or paddle spanking.
And as I started to scare myself silly, and almost hyperventilated, my emotions weren't helped by the fact that Jack had told me similar stories of how He had taken the belt to his bratty younger sisters, and how they like me, felt that if it wasn't the instrument of last resort, it was darn close.
I also noted that even now, talking only to myself in my head, that my language had cleaned up remarkably after my first spanking....
I watched as he gathered up the belt, buckle and the tip both held in one hand, the belt making one long loop, and I shuddered, sure that he was going to have me bend over the back or arm of the couch, the only position practical for the full arm swing such a length would require.
And I also knew that such a full arm swing, on a fully bent, spread, tight, stretched and open fanny, And one that couldn't really have been said to have survived her earlier ordeal, well, I knew that it was going to be hellish. That sitting would be a distant memory for days, that...
I jumped about a foot at the sharpness of his tone!
"I told you to get across my lap, young lady! What happened to all those promises to behave yourself that you made during your first spanking, hmmm? Where you said that you were going to be good, to behave yourself, to Do what I told you to do!?"
I gulped out a sorry, and practically threw myself across his lap, and while this wasn't going to be great, it was still so much better than what I had already envisioned.
He was considerate and sparing of me, as he always is. He was seated far back on the couch, so my legs and body were resting on the couch as well, instead of being jack-knifed over his lap, bent and ass skin stretched tight. Oh, my fanny skin still felt tight, and it still felt like the highest peak (or would that be peek?) around, over his knees like that, but still so much better than being over the couch.
And, in addition, no matter How bad or how Long the punishment was going to be, there was a not inconsiderable comfort in the fact that I had My husband holding me across His lap, lending me his strength to get through this, even as he was lending me his strength to learn a lesson and become a better woman.
There was a quick, scolding lecture, and my mind was where it should have been this time, and I got all the questions right , right off the bat.
I could feel him nod in approval, and then the handspanking started again, another 'warmup' (where these men come up with terms like 'warmup' for a punishment spanking, just cause it's with his hard hand, is beyond me!) spanking, that, because of my earlier spankings, had me yelping, pleading, and kicking in place before ten spanks, and crying, not tearing up, but crying, before 15.
The 'warmup' lasted far, far longer than 15 spanks, however.My loving devoted husband devoted a lot of his loving attention to my sit spot as he calls it; the lower hang, or underhang, of my plump little fanny, and the crease between poor plump underhang, and tender upper thigh, AND he spanked down to a good one, perhaps two hand widths onto my poor, tender upper thighs!
A concentrated sit spot spanking and upper thigh spanking soon had my vocal protests rising both in volume, and frequency, while at the same time, it seemed to diminish my coherency and vocabulary.After much begging, much promising, much pleading, and much frantic kicking, squirming, crying and bawling, the spanking stopped, and I wept in relief as much as I did from the continued burning down there....my mind amazingly blanking out what I Knew was going to be the next part in this ordeal.
Which was quick in coming. Too quick. Apparently men feel that bottoms of wives and girlfriends, once 'warmed up', shouldn't be allowed to cool down.
I heard a familiar "Thwissshhh", gasped and tightened at the memory of past paternal strappings (as the sound between a strap whistling through the air with punitive intent is substantially different than the sound said strap makes when it is swung for the girls pleasure....) and then remembered, after the hideously loud "Crack!" of impact that tightening a girl's bottom probably wasn't in my best interest, but too late now...
The first stroke went right across both cheeks, about as close to halfway down as you could get, right at the fattest part of fanny.The next four were about as close on top of the first one as he could make it, what with my squirming and twisting spoiling his aim slightly.His left arm was a bar in my lower back, pinning me, and at the same time enforcing an arch to my bottom that kept his reluctant target pretty much where he wanted it, for as Long as he wanted it there, no matter how I or my bottom felt about such things.
Crying and bawling were turning into squealing, bawling and blubbering, but my female histrionics didn't seem to phase my loving husband in the least. Not at all.The next set of five landed Just below the first set, the brute apparently was going to strap me in the same spot repeatedly, and then work his way down my poor bottom!!
I wept, I sobbed, I pleaded, I told him all the things I had learned in my corner time, and yet the strap came down, unrelenting, unforgiving.My face and the cushion under me were Wet with tears, and I thought that perhaps if he could see me as I begged, it would make a difference, so I craned my head around to look, and saw his strong arm in the air, and the dam-, darn strap come down...
He had changed the grip he had originally held it in. It was still doubled up,buckle and tip in his hand, but then he had taken an addtional turn in his hand, shortening it further, leaving a doubled loop of perhaps 10-12 inches (okay, so I took his belt, redid how he held it, and measured!)While being strapped otk was still preferable to recieving said strapping while bent over somehtin over than my husband, it was still horribly painful.His was a workbelt, thick, heavy, and double it simply increased the weight, so not only was I recieving some very good surface fire, there was a depth to the pain that went deep past the soft skin, the baby fat, into already aching bottom muscles.
And was going to stay there, throbbing for some time after. And the dang strap was narrow enough that it was raising, well, not welts, exactly, too wide for that, but there were wide, swollen strap marks covering my bottom! AND it was Loud! The doubled strap, besides the noise it made impacting my bottom (and the noise I made when it impacted on my bottom!) also slapped against itself, further serving to cow it's victim, namely poor me!
AND the downside of Jack's shortening up his belt like that meant that he could, as I found much to my dismay, cover not only both cheeks at once, as he had started my strapping with, working from the middle to my upper thighs, but then also cover each chubby cheek individually!
And when a girl is kicking and perhaps spreading her legs and cheeks more than is especially proper at such times, the Dang belt can wrap BETWEEN her cheeks and visit tender inner cheeks that shouldn't be spanked at all!!!!!!
And then it was done, over, finished. I was spent, limp, sobbing, and I never even realized it was over, the pain in my bottom still seeming to increase in a throbbing pulselike wave...and then the first thing I noticed as I caught my breath a bit, and my sobbing lessened a wee mite, was that I was still safe and held and protected over my husbands firm thighs, and that his hands were petting my back and hair, and lower unspanked thighs....
ps -more coming, so there! you didn't even have to ask! We do have to hear about the after care, the party, the next day, and her decision as to whether or not she wants to continue with spanking as the punishment in her domestic discipline lifestyle....
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