She sat on the couch, her hands trembling, staring at her purse. Her purse held a little bomb, the clock ticking down. Escape seemed unlikely.
Looking quickly at her watch, she hoped with all her heart he would be late. Please please please... That might save her for a bit. They had dinner plans with several friends, and if he got home too late, the bomb wouldn't go off until after dinner. And then, if dinner ran late, maybe she'd put it off until morning. There wasn't much hope beyond that.
Too nervous to sit, she walked out of the living room, down the hall and into the bathroom. She peed. God, what a day. The bomb had happened on the way to work. She really should have texted him right then. But she just couldn't. All day she'd thought of nothing except the ticking bomb...
She washed her hands and then checked herself in the mirror. After getting home, she'd dressed for him, hoping that would get her some mercy. Please him. His favorite skirt-a black pin-stripe with a nice, high slit that showed off her 'lovely' legs. Her four inch pumps that he loved her in-often making her wear those and nothing else around the house. Stockings and a garter belt. Her hands adjusted her deep blue blouse, no bra, and then she touched the pearl choker around her neck.
Hatch had bought every stitch of clothing she was wearing. The pearls, too. He took such care of her, only asked her to follow a few simple rules...
Her face turned red. She hated disappointing-
His key rattled into the lock on the front door. Her heart leaped up into her throat. Shit. She looked quickly at her watch. It's really too late. There won't be time before someone arrives.
Too nervous, she couldn't leave the bathroom.
"Pet?" Normally his rich, kind voice comforted her.
She tried to speak but nothing came out.
"Baby, you here?"
She stepped out of the bathroom. The big smile on his face faded. He came up close to her, his arms wrapping around her, holding her. "What happened?"
"I'm sorry," was all she could say, barely a whisper.
He helped her back into the living room, near the bomb, and sat her on the couch, still holding her. "It will be okay. Tell me what happened."
God, she didn't want to... Hand still trembling, she reached for her purse. Moving in slow motion, she opened the top snap. Reached inside. Pulled out the blue piece of paper. Handed it to him, tears running down her face.
"Oh...baby..." She could hear the disappointment in his voice.
She nodded.
"Eighteen over?"
She nodded again. Her second ticket in two weeks. She felt his anger-always cool and in control-build up and begin to fill the room. Her knees started to shake. Oh shit.
"I'm sorry," she said again.
"We've talked about this several times. You've been spanked for it several times."
"I know. It..." She almost said it wouldn't happen again, but knew that he wouldn't like that. She was always late, and always speeding. Often she got out of them - played the sweet little innocent girl. It worked more than he knew...
He looked at his watch.
Please say we'll take care of this after dinner...
"We don't have much time. I'm going to give you a few now, so that you're thinking about it through dinner, then we'll finish it when we get home."
"Two spankings? That's not fair." Her brat came out; she couldn't help it. She stood up. "And there's no time. What is someone shows uuupppppp??" Sometimes her whining worked, or at least got him to smile.
He didn't even stand. Instead, he calmly stared at her. She wanted to run from those damn eyes. With utter calm, his voice low, he said, "Take off your clothes, pet. Everything. Now."
She stamped her foot. The corner of his mouth turned up, just a tick, but he didn't quite smile. He stared, waiting, looking like he'd wait all day and not budge an inch. She wanted to run. Turning around, she looked for a place to hide.
"That's extras." Still his voice was quiet; his confidence sent a shiver through her body.
Facing away, she started undoing her blouse. Her heart pounded loud in her chest, and she could feel the sweat on the skin above her ribs. It's going to hurt.
She mumbled, "It's not fair..." She put her blouse on the arm of the couch, and unzipped her skirt before letting it slide down. He loved her ass, though the redder the better. And it was about to be very red.
"Sir, can I leave my stockings on? And my panties?"
He didn't answer. Finally she turned and stared at him. He only stared back. Punishment spankings were always given naked. Completely naked. She unsnapped one garter, slid the stocking down her leg, then stepped out of her shoe and pushed the stocking off her foot. After sliding down the other stocking, she took off that shoe, then undid the garter. She arranged them neatly on the arm of the couch, having been spanked more than once for not taking care of her things.
She looked at him one last time, her best puppydog look. He flicked one finger at her, a bit of annoyance finally appearing on his face. She said, "Please, it's only a thong. It won't protect anything."
"Ten extras."
She whined and danced in half a circle, then slid the panties off and added them to the couch. She stood before him naked. Without her panties, her brat was nowhere to be found. "Please, please, pleeaasssse spank me after dinner? Please Sir?"
His eyes stared past her. Closing her eyes, she knelt next to him. One finger lifted her chin. His eyes bored down into hers, peeling her walls back like a surgeon peeling an apple, until she was naked and vulnerable before him.
"Why do we have your rules?"
The brat almost reappeared,
because you're mean and a tyrant
. She managed to swallow the words. Maybe she was getting better. "To help me be a good girl for you."
"That's part of it. But more for me to take care of you. So you know your boundaries and limitations. Do you remember when we met? Were you taking care of yourself back then?"
Her eyes closed, she said, "No, Sir, not very well."
"Are you doing better now?"
God, yes.
So much better. She was happy. Never felt that before. Didn't even know what it was before she'd felt it with him. She whispered, "Yes, Sir."
"Yes, you are. Much better. An amazing young woman."
Even knowing she would be crying soon, she beamed. Her heart soaked up the pride in his words.
"You are doing better because of boundaries. Rules. And consequences." A scared rabbit in her heart started beating its leg against her ribs. Consequences was a scary word. "Pet, is speeding dangerous?"
Not reeeeeaaaaaally,
thought the brat. No one else was around me. Out loud, she said, "Yes, Sir."
"And you've been spanked for this before? How many times?"
"I...I don't...don't remember. Sir."
"Well at least once in the last two weeks."
"Yes, Sir."
"So clearly that spanking didn't work."
"Oh, Sir, it did. I just wasn't paying attention..." Her words sounded pathetic even to her own ears.
"Go get three of my old ties and the Wicked One."
Her heart plunged. "Sir, pleassssseee not that. Please." The Wicked One was his heaviest belt, soft and thick. He'd only used it twice on her before, and it had been days before she came anywhere close to sitting comfortably. It hurt.
"Now."
Even the brat knew not to argue with the Wicked One so immediately in her future. On her hands and knees, she crawled to their bedroom, past her walk-in closet to his. She picked out three ties, careful not to grab one of his good ones (that had cost her one time, though she'd done it on purpose). Standing on her knees, her fingers ran across all of his belts. She'd felt all of them. Near the back, her fingers felt the weight of the One. It sent a shiver through her, including her pussy.
With the heavy belt in her mouth and the ties in one hand, she crawled back. The hallway wasn't nearly long enough, considering what was waiting for her at the other end, but she knew he didn't have much patience during these moments. All too quickly she was back in the living room. Her hand shook as she handed him the ties. He didn't take the belt from her mouth.
"Move the chair into the middle of the room."
She nodded and mumbled, "Yes, Sir," around the belt.
It was an old banker's chair. During fun spankings, or days when he just wanted to play all day, she liked the chair, being tied over it, helpless and vulnerable, his fingertips playing, his hand spanking, his cock doing what it pleased. Not tonight.
After getting a nod of approval from him, she stood and moved the chair to the middle of the room, belt still in her mouth. She couldn't bring herself to bend over the chair, so she stood helpless next to it.
He stood, then moved close to her. "It will be okay baby. We'll get you spanked, and all will be forgiven." He kissed her ear.
A tear streaked down her face as she nodded.
He guided her over the chair, bending her forward and so low, guiding her hands down to the front legs of the chair. Automatically she went up on her toes. She knew he liked that-her straining and arching up, even when it hurt. Her straining to please him.
Using one of the ties, his strong hands gently tied her left wrist to one leg of the chair, and then her right to the other leg. She tested his knots and knew she wasn't going anywhere until he let her. Her ass would feel much different then...
He spread her legs wider, his head not that far from her pussy. On other days, he might... Still, she was very wet. He tied the right to the back leg of the chair, then the left. She was helpless, exposed, vulnerable. A hard whipping was coming.
His sock-covered feet padded away, leaving her there; she didn't like it. She wanted him close, even when it hurt. She almost said something, but then he came back, a black blindfold in his hand. Without a word, it went over her eyes.
His hand found her lower back, caressing it, then the cheeks of her ass.
"Pet, I'm going to punish you hard. I don't like you speeding. If anything ever happened to you...I don't know what I'd do."
She could hear the pain in his voice. The love. "I'm so sorry, Sir."
"I know, baby. Time to teach you a lesson. Ask for the first dozen."
Like a good girl, she arched up high. "Please whip me, Sir. A dozen. Please."
CRACK.
She'd forgotten how much the Wicked One hurt. It took her breath away.
Oh shit.
CRACK. Low and on her sit spot. He wasn't fooling around - both had been hard.
CRACK...CRACK...CRACK...
Her body came alive, the pain pulling her hard into the moment. Her senses sharpened - she could smell the chair, her own skin, and even Hatch's wonderful scent. Panting, she both struggled against her bonds and arched up for him.
CRACK.
Loudly, she cried out.
The doorbell rang.
He draped the belt over her ass and back.
"Please, Sir, please don't."
"Please don't what, baby?"
God, she couldn't say it. "Please don't..."
"Did the last spanking work?"
"I... I..."
"Perhaps someone watching..."
"Please..." she whispered, but he was already walking away.
She tried to pull free, but couldn't, part of her knowing it would be much, much worse if he had to retie her.
The front door opened.
"Hi Lucy," he said.
"Hi," Lucy answered, always peppy. "You guys ready to go?"
"I'm afraid we have a problem..."
"Really? What's going on?"
Knowing what he was about to say to Lucy, she could feel her face getting red.
"I'm afraid she got another speeding ticket."
"Again?"
"Do you know that when she's bad...that she gets punished?"
Lucy laughed. "What do you mean?"
"She gets spanked. And in cases like this, when she's shown poor judgement repeatedly, she gets spanked hard."
There was a long pause. Bent and tied as she was, she could feel the blush in her face, probably surpassing the red of her ass. At least for a bit.
Lucy said, "Wow."
"She knows the rules and has agreed to them. It is consensual."
"You know, one day she joked about you spanking her, and I always wondered..."
