Her Punishment, Part III The Strapping, a tale by HBW (HairBrushWielder)

I hate putting her in the corner, I think to myself, as I walk over to her to let her out. It's at least AS boring for me as it is for her, if not more so. I have made the bed up, put a pillow down for her head, and gotten a bottle of water out of the kitchen. I almost let her out when finishing these few items, but she has to learn that she cannot sass me incessantly with impunity.  She needs to learn that her actions have consequences, and those consequences will not always be pleasant.

The silence is almost unbearable, yet letting her out too soon, would not be conducive to making her think about what she did to earn the spanking she is getting. And if she is not made to think about her transgressions, what is to keep her from repeating them? A spanking by itself, no matter how severe will not change that behavior, for I have spanked her much harder than this, in our normal play.

The difference between punishment and play has to be attitude, not severity, that’s the only way it will work.  If the only difference is severity, to me at least, that would border on abuse. Abuse is not something I am aiming for in our relationship, and neither is she. If she thought I was beating her, rather than spanking her, she would probably re-evaluate the nature of our relationship. And she would be completely in the right to do so.

Anyway, I digress. You are here to 'witness' the last stage of her spanking, not to hear my views and opinions on a domestic discipline matter. If your eyes haven't already glazed over from my mini lecture, please join me for the rest of my part of this story.

I walk up to her and put my hand on her shoulder. She turns towards me, her eyes watering, but not crying.  "Follow me,” I whisper in her ear. She nods and silently follows me into the bedroom.

As we get into the bedroom, I take the strap from her hand. I am not sure how effective this is, making her hold the next implement while she stands in the corner, waiting for the conclusion of her punishment. I am still learning, not being overly comfortable with the entire punishment process. Yet it seems to work for us, as far as I can tell. She seems almost relieved when I take the heavy strap out of her hand and place it on the bed.

I sit on the edge of the bed and motion for her to sit next to me. She does so, still having not said a word since I put her in the corner. I open my arms [for her] and she buries her face into my chest. Rubbing her back gently, I begin speaking, in a tone that hopefully conveys both sternness and comfort.

"I love you darling," I say gently, "I hope no matter what, you never forget that."

She peeks her head out from my chest and nods silently.

"I am sorry that I have to punish you today, baby." I continue, "but you have been overly naughty and sassy lately, and you know that I can't let you get away with that behavior, nor would you want me to."

I am hoping she can't hear my voice crack as I speak, destroying any authority that I am trying to claim with those words. She already knows that it is just as hard, if not harder, for me to punish her, than it is for her to take the punishment. In fact there are times where I cry afterwards, even more than she does. It breaks my heart to have to discipline her in such a serious way, but unfortunately, at times it is necessary.

Again, she answers with just a silent nod. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Standing up, I pat the mattress lightly, her signal to get on the bed. She does so, getting on all fours, and raising her bottom in the air as high as she can.

I begin fairly lightly, warming her up now with the strap, raising it in the air, almost just letting it fall back onto her bottom, not snapping my wrist to generate that extra pop. She moans a little at the impact of each stroke, and I pause and feel her bottom, which is getting very warm indeed. When I take my hand away from her bottom, her body seems to betray her, as she wiggles her bottom at me, possibly signifying that I have given her too many of the 'warm up' strokes, and she is actually enjoying herself.

I lean forward and whisper in her ear that this is a punishment which she is going to remember. Her eyes widen as I speak. After that not so gentle reminder, I step back and place the strap against her bottom, to get the arc right and reach back, pausing with the strap in mid air.

I begin to strap her again, each stroke more emphatic than the last. Her whimpers and groans become louder, her bottom wiggling in the air, struggling to hold position against its own will. Her squirming becomes more urgent, her struggles to keep her bottom raised in the air more pronounced. The usual husky groans of a sensual strapping become uncontrollable gasps. I lean forward a bit, to check on her, and see that her hair is matted to her forehead, her eyes are clenched shut, and she is biting her bottom lip.

With grim satisfaction, I realize I have achieved what I have set out to accomplish. She has been properly chastised. Continuing much longer may prove to be counter productive. I pause in the strapping again, teasing her sit spot with the end of the strap, almost caressing her. I wait while her breathing comes back to normal, her bottom stops wiggling and holds itself in perfect position, then lean forward yet again, and whisper to her, “10 more, and count them, young lady.”

She nods in assent and finds the courage to jut her bottom out even farther, spreading her legs a little bit more, to expose more coverage area. I raise the strap up and stop again, amazed by the way she submits to me when she knows she needs to, as she does not normally see herself as submissive in the least, nor do I consider myself particularly dominant.

I gather myself again, and raise the strap higher in the air, snapping my wrist, landing the blow on the outside corner of the lowest part of her bottom on the cheek farthest from me.  "One," she hisses, her bottom instinctively shrinking towards her, trying to escape the bite of the strap, before she catches herself and raises her bottom back up as high as she can.

The next stroke lands in the sweet spot, the inside of her innermost cheek to me, right at the base, where its the most tender. She squeals out a "Twooooo," and this time she can't help herself, and she collapses flat on the bed.

"Get back in position," I say, as sternly as I can muster, "or we are going to start the count over."

She groans and raises her bottom again, her cheeks clenching tightly.  I lay the strap where I plan on striking next, and tap it lightly, waiting while she unclenches, and pushes her bottom out resolutely.

The strap lands again, and she squeals out a "Threeeeee." This time she keeps position for me, wanting to please me, by taking her punishment well.

Again, the strap lands on her sweet spot and I marvel at her self control as she yelps, "Fourrrrrrrr," but stays in position.

Numbers 5, 6 and 7 land fast, not giving her a chance to breathe or react between them. I wait a minute as she catches her breath, and gives me the count afterwards.

I pause and rub her bottom again, feeling the heat radiating from it. I tell her how proud I am of her for taking this so well, and then remind her that there are three left. She just nods, panting from the effort of taking this hard strapping, and turns her head back away from me, jutting her bottom out again, signifying that she is ready for the end of her punishment.

I give her the last three strokes fast and furiously, seeking out and finding any inch of untouched bottom I can with the heavy strap. She squeals with each stroke, but counts them and stays in perfect position.

As I lay the strap down, and go to help her up, I can only think of two things. First, how much she must love me to accept my discipline, and secondly, how lucky I am to have found her.

She turns to me as I approach her, tears falling from her eyes. When she sees the concern in my face, she finally lets go completely, sobbing, collapsing into my arms, telling me how sorry she is for being naughty and sassy, that she never wants to seem disrespectful, understanding that she went too far with her comments.

I hold her as tightly as possible, whispering in her ear how much I love her, kissing the top of her head and her nose, kissing her tears away. I stroke her hair gently, rubbing her back with my other hand, as she slowly calms down.

She looks up at me, smiling and thanking me for caring enough to correct her. She turns and lays on her side, pointing her bottom in my direction. I lay next to her, feeling the heat of her bottom against my thighs, nuzzling the back of her neck.

The End Copyright © HBW