Saturday, June 13, 2009

Problems at work, MF, rl, domestic discipline

"We've talked about this before, haven't we, young lady?"

I blushed, looked at the floor, and nodded in agreement. Although 'talked' wasn't exactly how I would have put it. More like me going over your lap, for a pants down spanking till I was squalling and crying, while you lectured.

"And what did you promise the last time we had to have a talk?"

It wasn't a talk, it was a spanking, why can't you just say spanking? Probably because this way, you can get me so used to squirming at the word, you can make me mind by using it when we are out in public. Maddening, none the less....

"Um, I said it wouldn't happen again..."

You snorted. Men.

"Well, that promise didn't last very long, now did it little miss?"

Fine then! It hadn't , but at the time, over the lap, and fat little fanny aflame, it was a Most sincere promise, let me tell you, as I'm sure that many other women can testify too!

"No sir..." I mumble to the floor.

"And, Angela Lynn Johnson...."

Damn I hate it when they use all three names like that, and not even Anj or Angie, but Angela. Ugh. Like the kiss of death.

"... do you happen to remember what I said was going to happen if this behavior continued at work, young lady?"

My eyes widened, my mouth is dry, I have Big butterflies in my tummy now....

"Oh, I see you Do remember. Well, I'm waiting."

Face red, burning, worried, I try to tell you.

"Y-you said that if I got into trouble at work a-again, t-that you would, Please, just one more chance, I'll be good, I'll do better, you don't have to do it, really! Really really!"

Always the fount of eloquence under duress.....

"Angela...." and in That tone they get.

Sniffle. "You , you said that if it Ever happened again," sniffle, "t-that you would start treating work like it was school..." renewed hot faced blush.... A prompt from him.


"And, and that meant that I would get a school type paddling when I got home, like I should have gotten at work, and, and pleaseeee, honeyyyyyy?"

"Angela Lynn...." More sterness in That tone...

"And that after my paddling and corner time, I would get a second spanking, the 'home' spanking for earning a spanking at school. Pleaseeeeeee"

"Pants off, young lady, now."

Crying, feeling quite sorry for myself, I reach behind, and undo the zipper down the back of my dress slacks, and feel the tight fabric peel away from my soon to be used as a target bottom. I shimmy out of them, and fold them neatly, and place them over the chair. I fold my hands, and nervously place them in front of me, trying to protect my modesty, which is being revealed in my semi sheer white nylon bikinis. I had thought you would like them this morning when I put them on as a surprise for later. Now, I wonder how glowing my bottom will look after my paddling.

"Go and get your paddle, miss, scoot!" And the 'scoot' was accompanied by a rather Firm spank to my jiggly panty covered rump.

I scooted, and went to the closet, and got it off it's hook, a tourist type paddle that says "Board of Education. For best results, Apply Firmly and Frequently to her Seat of Learning."

You point, and I bend over the couch, and you put my hips even higher, and I start to cry as your fingers reach into my panties to lower them.... I sniffle as you slowly peel my tight panties down. Not sexy feeling now, as it would be under other circumstances. Now just that scary dread feeling in my stomach, knowing what is going to be happening.

And you don't just lower the damn things. They had ridden a wee bit up, and were clinging, but insted of simply Pulling them down, you took the waistband, and so slowly pulled them down, turning them inside out, finally pulling them away from tender areas, but leaving them just barely in contact. Which I so hate. I don't know why, I just do. Makes the whole thing worse,which is why you do it for punishments.

I feel you step back, and hear the floor creak as you bend and pick up the paddle. Idon't have to see, I can tell, just from the sound. I blush, thinking of just How much of Me you are seeing, with me positioned like this. And I blush harder. It's not like I'm a prude, and that I havne't shamelessly shown off to you many a time, but this is different, it's punishment, and that makes all the difference in the world. Punishment makes it shameful, embarrassing, and you know that as well.

You talk to me now, a quick lecture, covering all the high points, hitting the usual suspects, keeping my temper at work, not letting myself get sucked into every project out there, blah blah blah... And then you have my Full self pitying attention with your last words.

"....I expect you to count each one. Miss the count, that one doesn't count, and you get it again. Move out of position, and we start All over. Understand, little girl?"

What!? Fuck,no, not counting! Oh god, and I had missed how many! That meant that I had the worst of it, having to count without knowing how many were left, not even being able to say to myself that only x amount were left.... and I couldn't tell you I had missed, you wouldn't be happy I hadn't listened to your lecture and I didn't need more lectures or anything else right now....

"Honeyyyyyyyy, nooooo pleasseeeeeee!" I wailed out.

"Count" you say sternly, ending the subject. I feel cold wood rub on goose pimply bottom skin, pull away, more goose bumps, then Thwishhhh Whack!

"Aghhhh! Oh oh ohhhh O-oneeeeeeeeee"

My hips are already wriggling....

THWACKKKKK! Much more wrist in that one....

"EEEEIIIIIII!!!!! T-tw-twoooooo sirrrrrrrrr."

I manage to sob out. Sirs are always good at times like this. THWACK!

"AWAWAWWIIE Ow OH OWWWW! " Apparently not good enough. I feel the paddle lift again, and manage to remember what I'm to do! "T-three sir, three!!!!!"

"Yes it was...."



My feet are coming off the floor already, one, then the other, a little dance.... THWACK!!!!! A high pitched soundless type of squeal results, you had been a bully that time, and had swung from underneath, catching the chubby little underhang, and oh is that part tender! Both feet left the floor, knees together, feet wide apart, and I'm crying pretty good now.... and also forgetting to count which you point out as the paddle descends again....

"You missed the count, young lady..." CRRRACCCCCKKK!

"Nooooooooooooo OOOOOHHHHH Waaaaaa! F-fiveeeeeeeee that was fiveeeeeeee"

Smack! Feet up again, this time knees apart in a most unlady like pose, restricted only by slightly falling panties....

"SIX THAT WAS SIXXXXXOH GOD please I'm soooo sorrryyyyyyyy!"

SMAAACKKKK! Another underburner!

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Paddle is up and back,

"You lost count, girl"

"NOOOOOO!!!! Seven it was Seven! It was Sev-"



"I'm waiting , " you tell me....

"Se-seven, now it's seven, sir..." My ass is ablaze, I know I must have sat on a stove, and my bottom seems to have magically swollen.... Crack!



"NIIINEEEEEEEE Oh pleaseeeeeee I'll do better this timeeeeeeee"

THWACKKKKK!!!!!! the hardest yet, my panties falling to my knees, and getting stretched out from my kicking.

"T-T-Tennnnnnnnnnn" I manage to blubber out.... And then nothing.

It's done. Your hand is on my back, but not my fanny, and you kiss the back of my head while I bawl, but that is the only comforting I am going to get right now. When my crying slows, not stops, but slows, you help me up, and lead me to the corner. Unbelievably, I actually balk (so much for promises of obedience while getting punished!) and try to beg off from standing there.

You tell me that is okay with you. If I want, I can Sit in the corner instead. I stand.

And I hear the click whirr of your digital camera, another pic for my discipline album. The tears resume full force. When my crying has stopped, except for the occasional sniffle, you lead me, still bare bottomed, to the table, where my journal is waiting. I slowly sit, and begun writing telling what I did, what happened, what is going to happen yet, and what I will do different in the future. And then it's panties back up, somewhat droopy cause of the stretched elastic, but non snug panties were fine with me. I get supper, and do the clean up, while thinking about the hairbrush or strap that still waits before bed....



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