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The narrative so far has been more or less chronological. I'm going to interrupt myself a bit and tell you about two incidents that occurred during my stay. I can't say exactly when but that's not really important.
First of all, remember when I told you about the cook spanking me with her wooden spoon? Of course you do. What I'm speaking about is the paradox of lying out of obedience to her script and then feeling that I deserved the spanking for being untruthful. I also mentioned that it wasn't the first time I had my bottom warmed for that little crime and promised to tell you about it. Well, here we are.
A little background is in order. I've not mentioned visitors before but my host was not an anti-social hermit and would entertain once or twice a month. I assumed the role of hostess and was quite charming (if I do say so myself). As you can imagine, there were a few raised eyebrows at a young unmarried woman living in his house. We tried just laughing it off but eventually had to take stronger measures to protect our respective reputations. He brought up the subject during one of our library chat sessions. He said, "The question of our relationship is getting harder to ignore. We need to provide a better explanation. People like the idea of me being a rich bachelor and probably a bit of a playboy so might think of you as my latest conquest or a gold-digger after my fortune."
I had to wonder just what he considered a conquest if what he had done to me and what I had given him didn't count. However, the part about me not wanting to marry him for his money was true. He continued, "I value your reputation more than that so we have to convince them otherwise. I suggest we get you a boyfriend."
I shook my head, "Sorry, that won't work. Nobody in my past falls into that category and I don't see anybody on the horizon. What's your next idea?"
He returned my negative head gesture. "I'm not talking about a real person. We could invent him. Someone you don't see very often but are very serious about. Enough so you are not the least interested in a dirty old man like me."
I laughed at his description of himself as an old man and said, "I'll withhold comment on that. However, I still don't like it. That would involve telling lies."
He seemed confused. "Of course but what's the problem. It would be for a good cause and nobody would be hurt by them."
I answered, "That's not the point. I hate dishonesty in myself and others. Even though I agree it would be in my interest I would feel guilty. It would weigh on my mind long afterwards. It's like waiting for the other shoe to drop. First the lie and then the punishment I need to restore order. Sorry, but that's the way I am. Got any other plans?"
He thought for a moment. "Yes I do but it's an extension of the first one. How about if I promise to provide the punishment? Maybe not as severe as your parents might but a short one; just enough to give you a sore bottom. It could take care of your guilt without being something to fear. After the guests leave I'll take you over my knee and, in your words, restore order."
I took a minute to answer. I finally said, "OK but could we do it in my room?"
He was surprised so I explained, "My folks didn't always spank me in the living room. For something like lying to guests I could expect a visit after I got ready for bed. I can only imagine what a short spanking from you would be like but it would be appropriate for me to be in pajamas. Just like back then, I would go to sleep with a sore bottom."
He agreed and the matter was settled.
Not long after we put it into practice. There was a small group for dinner and our host introduced the subject of my long distance lover. Then it was my turn; I proceeded to describe my fictitious paramour, how we met and things like that. After the guests left we walked upstairs together and at the door to my room he stopped and gave me my instructions. "I'm going to punish you for telling lies. Get ready for bed, pull your chair out from the desk and be waiting next to it with pajama bottoms and panties at your ankles. I'll join you in a few minutes."
I went into my room, quickly prepared myself as directed and waited by the chair. A few minutes later there was a knock on the door. He was also in night clothes and wrapped in a silk robe. He looked at the chair and the half naked girl next to it and smiled. "You look beautiful. A bit childish perhaps but beautiful none the less."
He had never spanked me dressed as he was and I got the idea he was entertaining the thought of joining me in the bed. That thought brought a smile to my lips which I hid by hanging my head. However, it caused me to rethink my attitude towards this punishment. I needed it to pay for my untruthfulness but just maybe a little comforting afterwards wouldn't be out of line. I would wait and see. I raised my face and looking more like a girl about to be chastised for misbehaving I said, "I'm ready to be spanked now."
He took his place on the chair and started swatting without the traditional preliminary gentle caressing. Hard slaps that were meant to teach a lesson although we both knew the lesson would have to be repeated in the future. It wasn't near as bad as it could've been but it wasn't anything to laugh at either. My bottom was quite sore when he stopped.
In keeping with what I had discovered about punishment spankings I did not feel any sexual excitement. At least, not right away. He kept me in place and spoke softly. "There, there little girl. You've been naughty and have been punished. It is over now and you are forgiven."
He almost sounded like one of my parents and it was comforting. Then I noticed something. His normal clothing tended to conceal his level of arousal but during this spanking his robe had opened up and there was only the thin material of his pajamas between us. He definitely found this spanking as erotic as the other ones and the thought of that sexual energy going to waste seemed a real shame. I ground myself against the hard part of him and asked, "Is the spanking really over?"
I heard a chuckle just before his hand landed again. I yelped but could hear the smile in his voice as he said, "Now that you mention it, I think a few more are necessary to achieve the results I'm looking for."
As he suited action to word I felt the familiar stirrings and before I knew it I was thrown onto the bed and he was taking his robe off. His pajamas followed the rest of mine and the festivities were as good as ever.
What I just described was only the start. After that it became a game of sorts. While the subject of my "boyfriend" did not always come up in conversation I would wax poetic about him if called upon. During these discourses I would steal a glance or two towards my host. He would be smiling and I knew he was anticipating the opportunity to punish and comfort me later in the evening. My smile back told him he wasn't the only one looking forward to it.
Needless to say, these were the only spankings I did not fear. As you have read, he humiliated and punished me in many ways and it was only my blind obedience that made me submit to them.
The reason I haven't told you about the other incident is that it was the most embarrassing. I can hear you now, "You mean after all the humiliating things he made you do there was something worse?"
Yep.
Again, the exact date is not germane except for you to realize it was well after he introduced me to the special room. Like the previous incident it has to do with visitors. Not like the ones who came only for dinner; they were my parents. Mom and Dad had flown out to see me and stayed in one of the guest rooms. As you might imagine, they were concerned about my living arrangement. A story about a boyfriend obviously wasn't going to appease them so I convinced them that my work on the book took up all my time and my host and I rarely even saw each other much less had time for any hanky-panky. When I showed the results of my research and writing they seemed almost persuaded. All in all it was good to see them and we enjoyed lounging around the big house and touring some of the local points of interest.
Oddly enough, even though he was much younger they fell victim to his charm and powerful personality. They showed him the same respect and courtesy they would give to a magnate of business their own age. So they were flattered when he engaged them in casual conversation.
The night before they left we were sitting in the library and chatting with our host. He complimented them on what a pleasant and hard working daughter I turned out to be. Dad said, "Yes Sir, we're very proud of her but it wasn't always easy. You don't have children but you can appreciate the difficulties involved. The problem with young people today is they don't have enough discipline in their lives. We made sure our little girl didn't suffer the same fate. From early on she learned that actions have consequences. Basically, misbehavior meant a very sore rear end."
The man I thought of as a friend gave me a quick and slightly mischievous smile as he said, "I've heard that an occasional spanking does a little girl a world of good."
He stressed the word 'little' and Dad quickly responded, "That it does and it's not only for little girls. I'm sure she hasn't told you any of this but spankings were a regular part of her life through high school and beyond. Let me tell you, having to bare her bottom when she was a teenager was probably as bad as the spanking itself but that was not our main concern. I'm sure it didn't take long for any humiliation she felt at being so exposed to take a back seat (so to speak) to the real reason her panties were down."
He looked at me and apologized but that didn't stop him. "I'm sorry Dear; I'm embarrassing you but there's nothing to be ashamed of. You may not have liked the way we disciplined you but we felt it was the right thing to do."
Once again my former friend led the conversation to deeper detail. "I can't say that I disagree with you. There was a story about some teenagers causing trouble in town a while ago. I'm sure your daughter would not have been one of them but it's comforting to know you were willing to correct her when she misbehaved."
It was as if he knew where Dad would go next. "That we were but waiting for misconduct is like locking the barn door after the horse has run away. We also believed in preventative medicine didn't we Dear."
I wasn't the only 'Dear' at the table. It was directed to Mom who looked at our host and answered, "Yes we did. As a parent you can recognize the signs. Every once in a while we could see that she was not giving her schoolwork and chores the attention they deserved. Better to punish before things get really bad. You could easily tell the difference after we gave her what we called a refresher. She would be as good as gold."
The listener probed, "Very laudable. Excuse me if I'm getting too personal but I have a question. You've described how you used corporal punishment for actual misdeeds and the 'refresher' for general slacking off. Were there any other times when you had to resort to those measures?"
I knew what the answer would be and wondered how he knew how to ask about it. Was it just a lucky guess? Either way I tried to slink lower in my chair as Dad replied. "Now that you mention it; there was one incident that comes to mind. I don't remember all the details but it was something about the way she was dressed for a date. Do you remember Dear?"
Mom nodded. "She was about to go out with some boy. Who was that Dear?"
Now I was the object of the endearment. I mumbled out a name and Mom continued, "Yes, that's the one. Anyway, she came down the stairs and we were shocked. Her dress was much too short and her top didn't leave much to the imagination either. In our estimation she looked like a cheap, um, how should I say this, a lady of the evening if you get my drift."
Dad picked up the story. "It wasn't that we were worried about her doing anything improper but she had her reputation to consider. The appearance of impropriety can be just as bad as the action. A lesson on maintaining her public image was called for."
Mom jumped in. "We told her she wasn't going anywhere except to her room to change into proper clothing. Then she had to tell the boy she couldn't go out with him that night. What was it you told him?"
Once again I responded quietly. "I just said something had come up and I had to stay home. Luckily, he didn't press me for an explanation."
Mom supported me. "We let her give him an evasive answer. She knew what was going to happen but didn't want anyone else to know. In that matter we were in agreement. We believed in severe punishment but not public humiliation. Do you remember what happened next Dear?"
That's me again. I know I was blushing bright red as I obediently answered. "You made me go upstairs to change back into that outfit."
Mom prodded me, "And then what?"
I was almost whispering. "I came back to the living room and you spanked me."
Mom chided, "It wasn't me who spanked you but he gets the idea."
Dad added the final details. "We have an old belt that we use as a strap and it danced on her bottom for quite a while. We were not about to have our daughter go around looking like that."
Our host leaned back in his chair and said, "You are to be commended. I'm sure you did not enjoy punishing her but you loved her enough to do what you had to do."
Both parents beamed as they accepted the compliment. Then Mom brought up the subject of my living there. She said, "No offense to you Sir but we are concerned about her staying here. I'm sure she's done nothing improper but it has all the appearance of impropriety. I have to wonder what your friends think of it. Never mind, I know what they have to assume and I'd think she'd be mortified. I know she's been working hard on her book but there's still sufficient time for other things."
He came to my aid (or so I thought). "You have nothing to fear about them. They are convinced that she is in a serious relationship with a young man and has no interest in me."
Mom's eyes opened wide. "She's never told us about a boyfriend. Who is he Dear?"
I blushed, "No one. We made him up to avoid just the kind of talk you're afraid of. I tell them about him and they never question it."
Rather than assuaging their concern it just moved it to a new area. Dad snarled, "Do you mean to tell us that you purposely lie to those people. I thought we brought you up to always tell the truth. I'm ashamed of you. If we were at home I know what we'd do."
Before anyone could say anything in my defense Mom decided to explain another of our traditional punishments to our host. "The first thing we'd do is wash her deceitful mouth out with soap. Then send her to bed."
Dad added, "But not right away. The soapy taste was only punishment for one end of her. My strap and I made sure her other end knew how we felt about lying."
Then he chuckled, he actually chuckled as he went on, "She would be bawling her eyes out and let me tell you; her bottom would be a sight to behold by the time I was finished with it. Yes Sir, a bright red rear end was the only way to tell if the lesson was effective."
I had reached my limit and shouted, "Will you people stop talking about my goddamned ass. I hated every spanking you ever gave and find nothing remotely nostalgic in hearing about them again. Just drop it. I'm sick of the whole damn subject. He's going to think I was raised by a couple of perverts that enjoyed whipping their little plaything."
My little outburst hung in the air but only for a second. Dad stood up and very quietly spoke. I immediately recognized the tone of voice. It was not one I remembered fondly; quiet rage and anger that was going to be appeased. "Just who do you think you're talking to young lady? And what's with this kind of language? First lying and now profanity and shouting at your parents. I have had just about enough."
He turned to our host and said, "Sir, if you don't mind we'd like to take our daughter upstairs where we will continue this discussion in private. I only wish I had thought to bring the family strap."
Mom was ever so helpful. "Don't worry Dear; we can use my hairbrush. It's been a while since it last connected with her bottom but I'm sure it still works."
I was aghast. "You can't be serious. I'm a grown woman and not your little girl anymore."
Dad answered, "We can see that. You're not our little girl but you're still our daughter and some things will never change. You are going to get spanked and that's the end of the discussion."
He turned to his host again. "Sir, I apologize for our daughter's behavior and hope you have no objection to us punishing her. Unless she has learned stoicism I expect you will hear some pitiful sounds, in fact it is my intention to make sure she gets the full measure of what she has earned."
My only hope did not come to my rescue but then again, I really didn't expect him to. "I have no objection whatsoever. I would not think of interfering with family matters. The staff are all downstairs and will not be disturbed. Please, do what you have to do. I have some things to do in my office so you will have all the privacy you need."
With that Mom stood up and just as quietly but sternly said, "Come along Dear. We have business to attend to."
My father was right and it should be no surprise to you that once the decision that I was to be spanked was made there was no profit in disobeying. Old habits die hard and I meekly hung my head and followed them up the stairs.
As we were passing my room Mom said, "Just a minute. We need to stop here first. Don't forget about her lies."
He concurred, "Of course Dear. You take care of one end and I'll be waiting to deal with the other."
I didn't mean to delay when I let her go into the room first but she saw it as such. I yelped a bit as she grabbed me by the ear and dragged me in. She let go and crossed her arms in front of her. "Get those clothes off young lady and into your pajamas."
She had seen me wearing very little hundreds of times so there should have been no reason to be embarrassed when I undressed. Nevertheless, I was humiliated to strip down to panties before putting on my nightclothes. Then she grabbed my ear again and led me to my bathroom. After she got a really good lather on the bar of soap she held it to my lips. I had been defeated so I opened my mouth and in it went. She rubbed it on every surface she could get to and although I gagged once or twice she was not deterred. I was allowed to wipe my face with a towel but of course, rinsing the acrid taste out was forbidden.
Then she led me to their room by the same ear holding technique. It was one I remembered all too well. It was not to make me follow since she knew I would be obedient but that little extra touch that makes a punishment all the more effective.
Dad was sitting on a chair and tapping Mom's hairbrush against his hand impatiently as we entered. I said I was sorry for losing my temper and tried to defend the reason for the lies but he just shook his head. "I don't want to hear it. The discussion is over. Drop your drawers and come here."
I had forgotten that part. Nighttime spankings required me to pull my pajama bottoms down and shuffle to my fate. As soon as I was close enough for him to reach me I was face down and raising my bottom for the last vestige of modesty to be pulled down. Then the hairbrush struck. It was as bad as I remembered and you might think that after all the spankings I had gotten while in this house that I would have built up some measure of resistance to them. Fat chance. Every one of them hurt and this was even worse. Not only did it hurt like Hell but I knew my cries were heard even as far away as the staff's quarters. I had little doubt that they had not been told what was going on upstairs and were probably standing right outside the door to get the most enjoyment out of my suffering.
And suffer I did. I was hoarse when he finally stood me on my feet. I might point out that there was no time for me to rest on his lap; hard spanking and then immediately upright or the best I could manage. Mom led me to a corner and said, "We'll give you a few minutes to catch your breath and think about things. Then I intend to discuss your description of us as perverts. Since you think we enjoy spanking you I'm sure you won't mind me having a shot at it."
Sure enough, five minutes later I was over her lap and you'd think my rear end couldn't take more but you'd be wrong. She didn't spank as long as Dad did but it was plenty long enough to garner new screams of agony and regret.
When I was allowed to go to my own room I stripped off everything below the waist and looked at the damage. None of the spankings my host had given me were anything close to what I saw. My rear end was unbelievably red and had numerous bruises. I left those clothes off and slept on my stomach.
The next morning they were as cheerful as if the previous night had not been anything out of the ordinary. Actually, if you consider how they raised me, it really wasn't. After hugs and good-bys were exchanged I turned to go back upstairs so I could do some reading while laying face down. Before I could go I was commanded to display my rear end to him. He had already seen it and a lot more but I was ashamed to comply. Of course, I obeyed and as soon as he satisfied himself that I had received a severe spanking I ran up the stairs and fell on my bed in tears.
It was a day or two before I could look him in the eye again. A week later things were back to normal if you consider occasional spankings, paddlings and manually induced orgasms normal.
So there you have it. Two unusual and different forms of punishment. Now we can get back to the rest of the story.
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