You hastily put yourself over his lap. Your shame at placing yourself at his mercy was magnified because as specifically ordered and twice demonstrated, you kept your legs apart. The simple positioning was most embarrassing. Now, to your eternal shame, he was actually going to strike. Fortunately, the slight sting of this unnecessary spanking had the opposite effect of a punishment for misdeeds. In a way your mind couldn't completely fathom, it re-ignited your earlier desire. You would shrug later and dismiss this rediscovery of the embers of your lust. You simply could not help yourself.
"Thank you," you murmured, before adding with a blush. "Please take my panties off and spank me again."
He was tempted to increase your frustration by making you change places, so he could take them off as he had your skirt, but his desire to spank you again was as strong as yours was to be spanked. He pulled your knickers down to your knees. A few gentle kicks of your legs would have sent them flying, but , with a touch your movement was still. He wanted you with your undergarments at half mast, appropriately disheveled and readied for the bewildering range of punishments that he was bound to inflict upon you.
There was no appreciable increase in the force of his first dozen smacks. The feeling of his hand landing on bare skin was a significant difference to the hue of both buttocks. He told you to stand while he rose from the chair. You struggled up, one hand clutching at the knickers that tried to escape your grasp down your smoothly shaven calves. You looked towards the arm of the chair and bent over fully to resume your previous position.
"No. Lie on the couch." he commanded. "I don't want you scrabbling on the floor and you can raise yourself higher for me. Clutch those thighs for me and spread yourself. Now."
You appreciated his concern, but wished he would hurry up and get around to continuing what he started. He started at your ankles and ever so slowly traced a line from each one to a point where his fingers would meet in the middle. Your lips moulded a sussuration of protest as you begged him to stop dawdling. He 'punished' you for trying to direct the activity by moving in the opposite direction until your rustlings and whisperings ceased. This duel continued and exacerbated the flush to your features. Eventually you gathered the message that he sought to convey. You suffered in silence as he continued his journey at a snail's pace. You were holding your breath and raising the target as high as you could, when your shameful wish was finally granted.
There was nothing fake about your sighs of satisfaction as he used his fingers to assist your rising tide of enjoyment. He allowed you to let go of your legs as long as you kept them wide open. this posture allowed him to make periodic visits to the breasts and the two peaks on top of them with hands and wickedly pinching fingers. Your emotions were helter skeltering through a haze of confused excitement. You desperately wanted to be taken.....taken to greater heights while being shamed by his reminders that you were encouraging him to touch you in the most intimate places. You were mortified and aroused simultaneously. Every word he said burned in your ears and the heat of them joined the heady scent arising from your earlier spanking and the increasingly languid warmth of your whole body.
As you came back to earth you felt yourself being rolled over. He lifted your waist so you were on your knees. He moved your legs apart so you were still completely exposed to him. A bandana was tied around your eyes to suit his purpose. He watched you wriggle your bottom in anticipation as he described how he could still see a few red marks from his introductory spanking. Your moans took on a different timbre now. They were those of a woman entering the first throes of ecstasy.
"You're going to think of your bottom in a new way by the time I'm finished," he smiled reflectively. He consoled your poor backside with a few gentle pats. This revelling in your discomfiture and in the overwhelming submissiveness as you whimpered, but otherwise accepted your fate, could have been construed as unkind. You twitched when you felt him touch your bottom again. He knew well that you were faintly humiliated at your sexual responses. He could see you would find the spankings coming next to be of great benefit to the erotic tensions building within you. You would also benefit from remembering this experience for more than the few days that would have to pass before you could sit comfortably again. For that very reason that he was going to make sure that the spankings you were going to receive were severe enough to accomplish both goals. And it was time to start.
You were allowed to stand and remove the bandana from around your head. You could not bring yourself to look at him as you lay across his knees. You didn't want to be spanked harder, but it meant the end of your humiliation. As a result you couldn't get over his lap fast enough. Unfortunately, you were a little too hasty, almost knocking over a vase. You lay there and gulped down a sob as you heard it rocking and listened to him tut-tutting above you.
"You know better than that," he chided. "Ask for your spanking before you get into position for it and that's enough of you trying to distract me."
You giggled but regained your feet.
"Keep those legs together," he added in best martinet style, each barked word bringing you to open laughter and bringing a flush to his face. "I need to concentrate on that bottom of yours and not on whatever you'd like me to focus on. You seem to forget that this is a punishment and not some sexy little game."
"Oh no?" You thought and you knew it would be only a brief interlude before further attentions from him. You could barely speak, through your suppressed laughter, so you stuttered the required phrase:
"Please spank my bare b.bottom for as long as you think is necessary for me to learn my lesson."
"Good girl," he responded with a pat on your cheeks, feeling your flesh ripple and quiver. With a sharp inhalation, he pulled you over his lap. Taking his time, he concentrated his attentions on your pink cheeks. A few seconds between spanks gave you the fullest benefit from each individual blow. He knew better than to waste his energy on a flurry that blended into continuous discomfort. Granted, that discomfort was somewhat more than a single spank but not as much as when they were given individually.
He relished the way your eagerness was subsumed to quiet sobs as he basked in the glow of your bright red cheeks. He paused in his musings and remembered himself. There was the rest of your spanking to accomplish. Abandoning the relentless staccato beat upon your rear, he reached down and slowly, yet forcefully parted your thighs, discarding the panties that had by this time gathered themselves around your ankles. The woman attached to the ankles (but no longer the panties) in question knew only too well what chastisement there felt like. You thought to rise, but a cautious instinct held you there. It was the correct reaction, but a little too late for him not to notice your movement.
"Stay right where you are young lady, " came the stern rebuke, holding you there. " You are here to learn something. I have every intention of attending to the detail of your education myself before the night gets too much older."
You felt him rise to the challenge under you as he jabbed your naked crotch in his state of arousal.
"I'm sure you've learned quite a lot already. Haven't you m'dear?"
An answer was required. You could only nod.
"Aren't you glad to be owned by one who's so concerned about you he's willing to go that extra distance in disciplining you?"
You nodded again, knowing that these words were a green light for his attention to the hitherto unscathed skin from the back of your feminine calves to pale hips below that darkening pink plateau directly facing the ceiling. You couldn't help expressing your opinion of his expertise. The eery little squeals emitted so disconnectedly from your larynx came to a halt soon after he stopped. When he pushed you to the floor, you fell with a dull leaden thump. You would have felt like an unappreciated parcel of sensitivities had the wind not been knocked out of you. You had lost the felicitous perch across his erogenous zones, but only for the present.
You lay there breathless, gathering your thoughts in the knowledge that everything up to this point merely constituted preliminaries. A few moments would be allowed for you to gather your clothes and carry them to your chambers. The respite was most certainly not going to last long. It was only a matter of time before you would be face down again. The masterly hand would soon bear down, but this time with a certain additional determination.
The next fifteen minutes allowed him to concentrate on helping you get the most out of the experience. With an arrogance born of male conceit he had the audacity to give you advice on your posture all the while.
"Next time I spank you, I won't spend so much time on your bottom, before beginning on your thighs. I will spread my spanks apart and bring you to a uniform color and level of discomfort. See how I'm giving you a few here, a few there, and then on this area. That gives your skin a chance to recover enough to better appreciate the return visits."
Your squeals indicated that you were an eager student. Your jolting hips jumped in precisely the right responses. Eventually the reality of the present spanking overpowered your ability to think of any future ones. Your befuddled brain was busy regretting every sin you ever committed, thought about committing or heard about someone else committing. When the main spanking was declared complete, he waited for you to regain some semblance of control. He wanted you to be fully aware of the next phase of your punishment. Of course, it started with a brief and amusingly hypocritical exchange.
"I hope you've begun to learn your lesson, young lady," he began supportively.
"Oh yes, Mas...," you began a little too precipitously.
".....Unfortunately for you, it's not over yet. I know that I had you pose in some fairly humiliating and very revealing positions. That was to be expected. I'm not so sure they were as humiliating as they were supposed to be, however. I certainly didn't expect you to act the tramp?"
"Me, Master?"
"Yes "Me, Master," he echoed your soprano tone as you looked at him in alarmed puzzlement.
"Giving me a clear view of your private parts when it was time to get spanked."
You couldn't resist it: "Expect the unexpected, Master."
"It's lucky I wasn't distracted from my duty," he continued, ignoring your remarks and wrapped up in his own pomposity. You looked away and smiled, deciding not to deflate his ego further with any additional caustic remarks....at least, just yet. You rather enjoyed the way his words flowed into you like warm syrup. He brought your attention back by a severe pinch, making you yelp pleasingly.
"Your display gave me the idea of using your desire to open your legs for me as an additional way to punish you. I like this suggestion that you offer me. Indeed, it is most suitable, but I'm going to modify it."
Your mind was blurred and you looked confused again. Perhaps, it was an unconscious defense mechanism, but afterwards you did not remember the details of the idea described to you in such excruciating and intimate particulars. Your thoughts were focused on the overwhelming consideration that you didn't like it one bit, once you had heard it in all its glorious exposure.
"There's really not enough room for you to open yourself while you're on my lap."
"No, Master."
"Get up and pile your pillows on the edge of the bed."
You struggled to your feet. Every motion reminded you of somewhere his hands had landed. The piling of pillows did not portend anything pleasant. You giggled at your thoughtless alliteration. The command to lie face down over them was no surprise but, when he pulled your feet wide apart, you remembered exactly what his helpful suggestion was. By then, alas, it was entirely too late to do anything about it. (Not that you would have done anything to prevent anyway.) The first hard spank to the inside of one thigh confirmed it. Another well swung slap landed on the other leg. After a dozen on each side they ceased.
You were very familiar with your next position. He had made you lie like this on your first visit and again numerous times during the last hour but that was just for humiliation and now you were forced to hold yourself open to further unprecedented punishment. And what a punishment it was. It required a number of your stockings and scarves to tie your ankles to the bed posts and to keep your hands out of the way. This gave him the full access he needed to complete the job properly. He was a perfectionist in this respect and you were thankful for this. So much so, in fact, that you pushed your face into the pillow and stuck your bottom out in a remarkably obliging fashion........
It is always a relief to withdraw from a position of vulnerable exposure and to withdraw strategically within yourself. There, at last you can find yourself. there you can nestle again in the utterly secretive and private enclosure of submissive space. So be it if such delirious withdrawal leaves your flanks exposed to further counter attack. It will only enhance your exuberant cries. You are too lost within yourself to realise that you have merely removed your limbs to a more defenseless and dependent position than ever. Or is this the precise juxtaposition that you always sought. Let him work it out. It is not your concern.
You are replete. You are practically satiated. All artificiality falls away as you find this the embodiment of perfection. The sap of life is oozing from the truth of his lessons. Well, at least a certain perfumed essence garnishes your thighs in all its slippery viscosity. Will he let the accompanying waves of pleasure surge over you as a realisation and embodiment of his mastery? His gentle touch is a token of his permission and you can release that exquisite keening. This ultimate sense of your well being as an example of submissive pleasure can only serve to make any Master proud.
Just as he was the one to take your panties off, so he will be the one to dress you again. Your complaints as he scrapes the waistband and leg holes of your silkies, with a certain sadistic deliberation, elicits no sympathy whatsoever. It may be right over your recently punished skin, but your vexacious objections will only earn you further gratification with that marvellous selection of paddles, canes and other implements gathered for your uniquely execrable feminine flesh. After all, the attention you duly receive and the continuation of his earnest endeavours are not just to satisfy his whim and your need. No, indeed. They serve a higher purpose, that of his intention to create a total experience, just for you.
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