As Robert will testify, I always spank, cane and tawse hard and almost always on the bare bottom. It really is the only way, in my opinion. Usually, Robert needs between a week and three weeks to recover from one of my punishments. So when he’d suffered a particularly severe spanking from me with my new ebony hairbrush, he naturally assumed that he would be allowed to recover before being punished again. I was really looking forward to seeing the look on his face when I told him that, on this occasion, his assumption was wrong. He would be spanked again, within hours of the first spanking, and while his bottom was still very sore.
The prospect was made even more exciting for me when he mentioned, about four hours after his spanking, that he was still so sore that it was uncomfortable to sit down. I do believe he was actually fishing for sympathy from me. Stupid boy!
“Is it really that sore?” I asked, faking concern, “Let me see.”
We were in the kitchen. He turned his back to me, then lowered his trousers and boxer shorts. I stooped down behind him to take a closer look.
“I see what you mean,” I said, as I looked at his beautifully decorated bottom. It was now mainly purple, fringed with red. I held my palm against his bottom cheek.
“My goodness, Robert. I think you could fry an egg on that,” I laughed.
“I know. I can feel the heat radiating from it. You can’t believe how sore it is. That new brush of yours is evil.”
“Can you imagine what it would feel like to be spanked again with that lovely brush, while your still sore?”
“I think the agony would be unimaginable,” he replied, blissfully unaware of my plans for him.
“Well, you won’t need to imagine it, because this evening you will find out.”
There was a stunned silence, and I do believe the birds in the garden stopped singing.
“You can’t be serious. I can’t take another spanking, I’m far too sore,” he pleaded, looking down into my eyes and searching for any indication that I was joking.
“I’m completely serious, Robert. You deliberately provoked me by email when you were abroad, where I couldn’t get my hands on you. There must always be consequences for such foolish provocation.”
I stood up to look into his eyes. He was still standing, in shock, with his trousers and boxer shorts around his ankles.
“Oh, please, Annie,” he pleaded. “I really can’t take another spanking. I’m far too sore. Please give me some time to recover.”
“Round two of your hairbrush spanking, with my new brush, will be administered in exactly one hour,” I said, looking at the kitchen wall clock, “So you have some time to reflect on your conduct and mentally prepare for your punishment. You will receive exactly the same spanking as you did this morning, except I will endeavour to make it harder. If you complain, or attempt to hinder the punishment in any way, I will be more than happy add round three to your punishment tomorrow morning. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Annie,” he whimpered.
“You are about to be disciplined, so you know you should be addressing me as Miss. You will receive an extra dozen strokes.”
“Oh, please, no, Miss. I’m sorry.”
“I will be delighted to make that two dozen extra if you want to argue about it,” I said quietly.
He looked close to tears, as he stood with his hands now holding his hands against his bare bottom, as he contemplated his fate.
“Good. I’m pleased that’s settled, then. Present yourself to me in the bedroom, naked, in exactly one hour. That’s five-fifteen. Understood?”
“Yes, Miss,” he almost sobbed.
“Tea?” I asked, cheerfully.
“Er, no thank-you, Miss.”
While I made myself a cup of Earl Grey, Robert pulled up his shorts and trousers, then went to sit in the lounge.
“I’ve changed my mind, Robert,” I said, as I sat down opposite him with my tea, a few minutes later. “I’ve decided to postpone your spanking.”
The relief in his face was a picture to behold.
“It really does make sense, Annie. I really am not fit to take another spanking.”
“I’ve decided to postpone your spanking until six-fifteen. In the meantime, I have a little job I want you to do for me.”
His relief evaporated, and he looked close to tears. What an awful tease I can be. I can’t help it, it’s such fun.
“Come with me to the bedroom. I’ll show you what I want done,” I said, putting down my tea, then rising to my feet.
He followed me upstairs, meekly.
In the bedroom, I sat on the bed, where I intended to spank him later.
“Over my lap, please,” I instructed. “I’m not going to spank you now, but I need to check something.”
I hitched up my skirt, then parted my thighs. He uneasily draped himself over my left knee.
“OK. Back on your feet,” I said, a few seconds later.
“I want one of those eye bolts fitted to the floor here,” I said, indicating the area of the bedroom floor where his feet had been when he had been over my lap. “The same as the ones you fitted to the whipping bench. I’ve noticed you have a few spares.”
He looked a little confused.
“You wriggled around too much. It made my thighs ache, keeping your legs in place, so I’m going to secure your feet to the floor.”
“But I’ll have to make holes in our lovely polished floorboards. The eye bolt will be a tripping hazard.”
“I’ve thought about that. You will remove the eye bolt when I’ve decided that you have been adequately punished, and you will work out how to fit some sort of recessed brass plate to cover the holes. I’ve no doubt that the eye bolt will be needed again. Are you quite clear as to what is needed?”
“Well, yes,” he replied.
“Get on with it, then. It has to be ready for your spanking.”
I left him standing in the bedroom looking at the floor. Ten minutes later, I heard the sound of an electric drill.
It took Robert longer than expected to complete his task. He reported to me that he had eventually finished at six-thirty. He looked very frightened.
“I had to take up part of the floor to get a firm fixing,” he explained.
“Well I hope you did achieve a firm fixing, because I have a feeling it will need to be. You look sweaty. Take a shower at once, then report to me in the bedroom, naked. And don’t keep me waiting too long.”
He looked as if he were about to say something, then changed his mind. He scurried off, and shortly afterwards, I heard the shower running. I left for the bedroom to prepare for his spanking. The eye bolt seemed to be securely fitted.
Robert was shaking with fear as he presented himself to me about ten minutes later. I was sitting on the bed with all the items I needed to hand. I gestured for him to stand by the eye bolt. He complied at once. I secured his ankles with cuffs, then secured them with a locking ring to the eye bolt. I secured his wrists with handcuffs, then ordered him over my left knee. I hitched up my skirt, then scissored him between my thighs.
His bare bottom was a joy to behold. The bruising from the morning’s spanking looked incredibly sore and I was so looking forward to his reaction to another vigorous spanking.
“You do realise, of course, that your late completion of the eye bolt cannot go unpunished, don’t you, Robert?”
“Oh, no. Please, Miss, no. I worked so hard to get it done on time. It’s not fair!” Poor Robert sounded desperate, and close to tears.
“Yes, I agree, Robert. It is a little unfair, but I’m afraid there is no alternative. For me to leave any failure by you unpunished would set a bad president. It would place the disciplinary regime in this house on a slippery slope, and I’m sure you understand that we can’t, under any circumstances, allow that to happen. You will just have to accept that life sometimes is unfair, and that the bigger picture is more important. You do understand, don’t you?”
“Yes, but if we both agree it’s unfair, surely it would be OK to make an exception.”
He was sobbing, now, as he’d seen me pick up my new hairbrush.
“There can be no exceptions, Robert,” I replied, firmly, “and furthermore, you know very well that you are forbidden to question my judgement when you are being punished. I thought I had convinced you of that on numerous occasions. I have obviously been too lenient with you, far too lenient. You will receive an additional twelve strokes for being late with your work, plus another twelve for arguing. If you have anything else to add, I will be very happy to double both. Do you have anything else to say?”
“No, Miss,” he sobbed.
“Good. Then I suggest you take a deep breath. It’s time we got started.”
I allowed him a few seconds to attempt to compose himself, then raised the brush.
Robert’s first hairbrush spanking on an already very sore bottom was a memorable, and deliciously exciting event. His frantic wriggling over my lap was an absolute joy. His gasping and pleading was music to my ears. The integrity of the eye bolt fixing was seriously tested. I paused half way through to continue our ‘chat’.
“So we dealt with your use of the term namby-pamby this morning, Robert. This is to address you referring to my spankings as lacklustre. Think of that word while I spank you. Perhaps you will find, by the time I have finished, that you have permanently disassociated spankings from me with those words.”
“Please stop,” he pleaded. “I really can’t take any more.”
“You need this spanking, Robert, and you know you need it. You would not have sent me such provocative emails unless you did. You wouldn’t be that stupid. You knew there would be consequences, and now you must accept them.”
The eye bolt was put to an extreme test as I continued the spanking. He received his spanking in full. I never exercise mercy.
My goodness. What a colourful bottom he had by the time I’d finished with him! Just as it should be.
How lovely to have things back to normal.
I’m delighted to announce the publication of my latest book, Allure of the Cane which can be found on all the Amazon sites.