T i f f s

 

With her legs tucked beneath her she sat quietly on the bed. The heavy silence that filled the air sat upon her shoulders like a massive weight. As his body filled the doorway to the room, the duvet cover instantly became fascinating, requiring her full attention. Without looking up she could feel his eyes focused on her. Uncomfortable with the silence she snuck a glance in his direction only to quickly avert her gaze after one look at the serious expression on his face. He walked to the bed, proceeding to loom over her without a word. Choosing to ignore him she continued to trace a stenciled flower on the cover with her index finger.

Finally, he spoke. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know…” She shrugged absently.

“I’ve really had enough of you,” he said, his voice filled with irritation.

A small, surprised shriek escaped from her lips as she was pushed face down on the bed. His hand landed on her bottom several times with enough force to sting through her heavy jeans. Pinned by his hand on the small of her back, she struggled to no avail. Once let go, she recoiled like a scalded cat, her hands immediately attempting to alleviate the sting. She gave him a pitiful look that conveyed her unhappiness.

With a frown he stood tall, his arms crossed formidably. “Are you ready to tell me what’s bothering you?”

She pouted petulantly, her hands still rubbing her bottom.

“Fine,” he said.

Before she could scramble away, he grabbed her arm and yanked her off the bed. He released his grip as he propelled her into an empty corner of the room with a single swat. Knowing what to do, and wanting to avoid another swat, she hurried into the corner.

“But I...”

Another swat interrupted her complaint. “I don’t want to hear a word out of you.”

She let out a loud, frustrated sigh, earning another harsh hand.

“Since you can’t seem to remember how to behave in the corner...” Still behind her, he began undoing her jeans. “You can stand there with your pants down.” With one firm tug he pulled them down to her ankles.

The sensation of his fingers against her skin sent a ripple of apprehension through her. She stood quietly, her fingers twisting the bottom of her t-shirt. She felt her stomach drop as she felt his hand grip her wrist.

Pulling her behind him, he took on the bench in front of the bed. Unable to move in large steps, she waddled from the corner to stand in front of him.

“Now, are you ready to tell me what’s wrong?” he asked.

“It’s not important,” she mumbled.

“Is that so? If it’s so unimportant, then why have you been in such as snit all day?” The warning in his tone was unmistakable.

Irrational impatience flooded through her. “If you don’t know, then why should I tell you?”

Receiving no reply, she squirmed uncomfortably under his stare.

“Okay then,” he said.

In one quick motion, she found herself flipped over his knee.

“No!” she wailed, covering as much of her bottom as she could with one hand.

A hand landed sharply on the back of her thigh. “Move your hand,” he ordered.

Reluctantly, she pulled her hand away.

The spanks came quick, and she gasped, unprepared for the force behind them. The stinging sensation increased with every swat; the area of her bottom unprotected by her panties even worse. Despite her attempts to remain stoic she squirmed, her body giving into involuntary wriggles.

He began lecturing. “I am sick and tired of your attitude. If there’s something wrong, you tell me.” He stopped and rested his hand on her bottom. “Are you going to tell me?” He punctuated each word of the sentence with a biting whack.

Determined not to give him the satisfaction, she grimaced, biting her lip. More from frustration and anger than pain she kicked the floor hard.

“Ok, you can think about it some more then.” Gripping her panties, he yanked them down to join her jeans. Holding her tighter, he continued the spanking; this time focusing on the sensitive area at the base of her bottom with harder spanks.

She whimpered as the stinging turned into a raging burn, her feet kicking slightly. As a particularly hard swat landed on a cheek, she scrambled forward on his lap and let out an involuntary squeal. Overwhelmed by the pain, she thrust both hands back.

Without breaking the beat, he shifted his focus to the back of her thighs.

“No, no, no, no,” she shriek,

His voice was even and slow. “Keep your hands away.”

When she moved them, his hand returned to smacking her bottom. Unsure of what to do with her hands, she drummed then repeatedly on the floor in front of her. Her resolve broke, puddled on the floor as a pool of tears. “I’m sorry!” she wailed, loudly.

His gave her an agonizingly long flurry of spanks before stopping. He rested a hand on her bottom. “Are you ready to tell me what’s wrong?”

She answered between gasping breathes. “Yes.”

She was quickly pulled upright to a sitting position on his lap. Immediately her hands covered her tear stained face. He put one arm around to hold her, rubbing her back, while the other hand gently soothed her still bare bottom. Feeling subdued, she rested her head against his shoulder.

He waited until her tears had subsided. “What’s the matter?” he asked, patting her bottom.

“You were supposed to take me to the art show downtown this morning,” she sniffed miserably.

“What?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused.

She moved her hands away to look at him accusingly. “You promised.”

A look of comprehension replaced his bewildered expression.

“Now it’s almost over, and you were mean to me.” Her voice sounded muffled as she buried her head once again into his shoulder.

“I wasn’t mean to you. I spanked you,” he replied pointedly. Softening his tone, he continued with his questions. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You were still sleeping, and I didn’t want to bother you,” she explained.

“You wouldn’t have been bothering me.” He paused for a moment before stating, “You could have reminded me like a big girl instead of spending the day having a passive-aggressive fit. Then you wouldn’t have gotten spanked.”

Embarrassed she said nothing, consciously aware that her pants and panties lay twisted at her ankles. She felt him take a deep breathe beneath her.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I should have remembered.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t just tell you,” she whispered.

His knee shifted to gently propel her to a standing position, then standing up himself. “Come on,” he said. “I think we can still get to the show for an hour or so.”

She looked at him surprised. Nodding her head, she fixed her clothes, wincing as the rough denim slid over her bottom.