Long Time Coming

Troy sat quiet in the passenger seat as Megan drove. She was obviously angry, and had good reason to be. Tonight had gone terribly. First he was late getting ready when she came over to pick him up and found him watching a dirty movie. She could tell he had just woken up from a nap and ran around grabbing his clothes and jumped in the shower while she impatiently waited for him in the living room.

She had his clothes ready for him and quickly dressed in front of her. Usually he would be excited when naked with her but this time he only felt nervous and scared. He knew her well enough to know her moods and tonight he was too close to a spanking to not watch how he acted around her.

Unfortunately that was easier said than done. At dinner he told a story she thought inappropriate and rather than apologize continued to antagonize her. When she brought up his being late he seemed more defensive than apologetic. "I don't see what's so wrong," he told her. "I wasn't that late."

"That's not the point," she said fiercely. "We had plans and you had a time to be ready. Rather than be on time you ignored it and had me wait, making us later. It was very inconsiderate."

She was obviously upset yet Troy continued to needle her, unaware of how serious she was. At the end of the meal, as she was bending over to retrieve an earring that had fallen off, he was unable to resist the sight of her rear end in the tight dress and openly palmed her backside. The action took her by surprise and pushed her forward into the neighboring table. She fell awkwardly, spinning into the carpet. Her legs splayed open and Troy had a quick view of the pink cotton panties she wore before she landed with a thud.

There was a time and place for everything and though Megan wasn't bothered by Troy touching her ass, he should know better than to push when she was upset with him. Standing up, she locked him with a glare that could cut diamonds. He felt his heart stop as he knew what they look meant. He only hoped she was calm enough to wait until they got home.

She fixed him with a pointed finger, aware that all the eyes in the room were upon them and trying desperately to compose herself. "The meal is over. I'll be out in the car. Take care of this and come out to see me."

With the color running out of his face, Troy nodded, fumbling over words of apology. Before he could say anything, she had already turned and made her way out the door with a determined stride.

Their waitress watching from the back quickly came over. She had a look of shock and concern. "Is everything ok?"

He nodded, pulling a handful of bills from his pocket. He could feel himself blushing now and only hoped she didn't notice. "Will that be all?" She asked him, almost teasing. Handing her the pile of bills, he turned before she could make change. He was unaware of exactly how much he gave her but knew her tip was more than generous.

"Someone's in trouble." When he turned to look back he saw her grinning at him evilly.

On the drive back she ignored him. Even when he stared at her with the sweetest look he could she only reached between them and pulled on the stick shift violently. Most nights she'd melt when he gave her that look and pull him to her with a deep kiss. Tonight, however, her lips curled into a stern line.

They pulled up and she got out, slamming the door. He followed carefully behind her. As he stepped inside she was sitting in the recliner, her eyes steeling into him. "Go upstairs and wait in the bedroom." Her words were cold and measured.

"Yes, honey." He began the long walk upstairs, head between his shoulders.

"...honey." her voice was dripping.

Her bedroom, which he always thought of as warm and cozy, seemed cold. The pink silk bedspread, where they consummated their love dozens on dozens of times, seemed stiff and uninviting. He knew what he should do- she would expect him naked and laying across the bed but right now he could only sit at the foot of the mattress and wrap his arms around himself. A shiver trickled down his spine and he saw the hairs on his arm stand on end.

Seemingly hours later he stood and began unbuttoning his shirt. He felt like a convicted man on the stand. Maybe he could reason with her? Plead innocence and simple error? No, he shook his head, she'd never go for that. Especially not with the mood she's in, he could almost imagine steam coming out of her ears.

He didn't hear her come in, only felt her. When he turned she still had her hand on the doorknob. The other rested on her hip as she appraised him impatiently.

"You still have your underwear on."

It was true, he did. Despite the anxiety he was feeling, he was aroused and he didn't feel like getting naked in front of her right now.

"Let's go," she glowered. "Completely naked."

Doing his best not to pout, he slipped out of his briefs. He was erect, something that would please her most days. She eyed his cock with anything but excitement this night.

She composed herself and reaced for her purse. He watched, erect and making no attempt to cover himself. Most days he loved being naked in front of his girlfriend. He loved the arousal in her eyes and loved the playfulness nudity always brought out of her. Tonight she was not playful. Her look was stern and, with a pointed finger, commanded him to her side.

She ignored the pleading look on his face, her bottom lip curled in aggravation. Sitting down on the bed, her knees held together primly, she reached for his hand and gently pulled him over her lap. It was such a gentle movement, more a suggestion than a demand, that he could not fight it. Effortlessly he went over her lap into the position he so dreaded but brought him the greatest peace he'd ever known. He loved his girlfriend, he realized that one morning while across her lap, and knew if he had to endure a lifetime of spankings and scoldings he would do it to make him a better man for her. More than anything he wanted to be her mate.

He meekly bent over her lap, realizing all that the posture conveyed. He had taken the position before, more times than he'd cared to admit. Each time it felt solemn, like a condemned man walking to his fate. Megan was more upset than usual this evening. Each time she spanked it stung and hurt his backside but this time he was sure it would be one to remember.

"Please," he begged. "I'm sorry, go easy...."

She'd heard it all before. At the moment of a spanking all men become children, pleading for mercy when facing discipline. She had burned Troy's bottom before, feeling a smug sense of satisfaction as it turned to light pink to scarlet to a deep crimson. If there was any time he'd needed a reminder, this was it. "You know the rules, sweetie. You have this coming to you. Be a good boy and don't fight it."

His face dropped to an immature pout that made her smile in spite of herself. They never really grow up, do they? His ass always excited her. Even at times like these when she was so mad she could shout, the sight of his cute buns naked and bent over her lap caused a swell in her chest and a rush of excitement. She smoothed her hand over his bare skin, feeling his warmth.

"This is going to hurt, Troy but you have it coming to you. You've made me very unhappy, embarrassed me and acted like a selfish child. You need this spanking. I just hope it will teach you a lesson."

He inhaled and held his breath. It was a natural reaction for him. Already she could see him trembling, his cute, pristine cheeks shaking slightly. She held off on the lecture she always gave him. He knew why he was there and knew why he upset her. It was better to get started.

Without another word she raised her hand and brought it down quick on his bare behind. Even though he was no stranger to her spanks and was familiar with the position he was in he still couldn't restrain himself and cried out. The sound brought her a feeling of satisfaction and she laid another two crisp smacks on his quivering cheeks. They were harder than usual. Already she could see the distinct imprint of her small, feminine hand burned on his creamy skin.

He knew better than to complain and grit his mouth and bit his lip to atone for the pain he felt in his rear. She was driven, her hand attacking his bottom with an intensity he never felt. Tears formed quickly in his eyes and the burning shame that always accompanied his punishments hit him tenfold.

Already he had begun to cry and, with her hand mercilessly slapping his bottom to a pinkish red, he let go and allowed himself to wail. He slipped effortlessly into the delicate place where he was nothing more than a child. His girlfriend, his lover, had become the ultimate authority in his life. He bent to her and acquiesced in the only position he could. He was her responsibility, an obnoxious, too-big-for-his-britches child that only got bigger.

She pressed his body to her closely. Even now, when he was so broken and weak, she felt her body warm to him. The sight of his rump reddened by her hand caused her breasts to flush with heat. She caressed him between slaps, admiring the firmness of his bottom and how masculine his rear looked.

He was catching his breath, recovering from the sting so she returned to spanking him. As her palm landed she bent upwards, his head stretching to the ceiling. His lips curled and he cried out, "Oooooooooow!" He was really in pain. His punishment had pushed him beyond the little boy stage where she usually finished to a burning, uncontrolled pain that brought a sense of fear. Seeing this, she stopped and rested her hand against his tortured back end. Heat came off him in waves.

Reaching into her purse, she found her trusty oak hairbrush. She had been keeping it with her for some time. It would be needed when he stepped out of line, which he was bound to do eventually. As he timidly peeked over his shoulder he saw it and immediately began wiggling away. Megan caught him with a firm hand on his shoulder. "You will stay put," she warned. "I think what you did today calls for a lot more than a hand on your backside. You need a dose of what all boys get when they misbehave. Growing up it was called 'Mother's Little Helper' and I think tonight I'll put it to the test on your bare bottom. You'll learn to be more respectful of me and think before you act. The hairbrush will make sure of it."

He trembled. She'd bought it and showed it to him weeks ago. Since then it remained in her purse as a silent reminder of their relationship. Whenever he acted up, just the thought of it so close by made him think twice. It was a fearsome thing; dark, burnished oak with a heavy, sculpted handle. More than likely it would leave a deep imprint. It looked heavy. He could only imagine the swing of it as she raised it in the air.

"Please...., he whimpered.

"Shhhhhhhh." Her voice was almost comforting.

The hairbrush laid a stripe of fire across his tender bottom cheeks. As soon as it made contact, the tears began anew. He was gulping great breaths of air, sobbing fitfully. It was humbling, a grown man crying without restraint, tears rolling down his cheeks, succumbing to the greater power of his girlfriend as she disciplined him to such a humiliating state. He babbled incoherently, pleading for mercy, promises of love and obeisance pouring fourth.

She was touched by his sensitivity. He was a sweet man, and very delicate, but she knew he needed firmness if he was to turn into the man she wanted. It was up to her to take the lead and mold him into such a man that she would be proud to call hers. Such outbursts and disrespect should be seen to immediately. He needs a thorough punishment, one that he remembers for a long time and one that will leave him sore for days.

Inhaling deeply, she began another round. The hairbrush had turned the pink skin to a deep red. His skin was hot to the touch and he had given up resisting. Instead he lay still over her knees, his body expanding with each breath. Each time she laid a slap against his skin he moaned silently, as if he had given up, resigned himself to his fate and waited patiently for the punishment to finish. She slowed to a stop and placed the hairbrush beside her. His legs open slightly, his burned flesh seeking the coolness of the air to sooth him.

She saw his testicles hiding between his legs and rested two fingers on them. Normally very sensitive, such an action would cause him to leap up to seek more attention but now he noticed it not at all. It gave Megan a chance to examine them. She never had the chance to look at them so closely. He seemed naturally protective of them so when he slept they always seemed too sensitive. As she'd touch him there he would wake and push her for more and when they were intimate he never had the patience to just let her look. Now she had her chance.

He seemed small, tiny almost. It surprised her to think that such a little thing could fill to such a size and please her the way it did. Her spanking must have really affected him to make them seem so fragile and delicate. Between her two fingers she sized up his testicles. They were slightly oval and smaller than she'd hoped. They fit comfortable in her closed fist.

Neither knew how long they stayed that way. She merely enjoyed the moment for what it was; a rare moment of complete vulnerability and intimacy. Since she began spanking him she noticed Troy had been changing. He had become gentler and sweeter. He was more compliant and when they made love he was a softer, more patient lover. Good feminine discipline works wonders, she smiled to herself.

As she played with his balls and playfully tugged on his soft cock, she heard him coo happily and caught herself. With a firm swat on his behind she ordered him to stand. Humbly he stood before her, hands at his side, eyes on the floor. She steeled herself and took the posture of the stern disciplinarian and addressed him with a pointed finger. "You are to plant yourself in that corner and put your nose on the wall. You'll stay there until it's time for bed! Do you understand me young man?" He nodded quickly, his eyes never leaving his feet. She was shocked at how genuine she sounded. Before tonight she'd doubted she could take it this far but now it felt natural.

"Now march, mister!" She gave him a quick spank on each of his swollen bottom cheeks before herding him into the corner of the room.

There he stayed while Megan reclined in an easy chair and began reading her novel while sipping a glass of wine. He had taken to his position surprisingly well. There were no pleas to be let off, in fact he hardly moved at all. Every now and then Megan would look over at him to see the crimson of his rear and the strong curves of his male bottom. It was a very cute sight, she had to admit. Slipping a hand beneath her skirt she absentmindedly stroked the crotch of her panties and considered their relationship. Things had permanently changed between them and will never be as they once were. She was more than satisfied as a woman and proud of him. He was perfect for her; sweet, affectionate, intelligent, kind, playful and had the childishness she found irresistible in a man.

That evening, before she tucked him into bed, she would rekindle the burn on his bottom before putting him down for the night. He would cry himself to sleep as he lay facedown, tears drenching the pillow. At the moment, however, she had her own needs to take care of and seeing him obediently in the corner with a bottom the color of an overripe tomato, provided all the inspiration she needed.