“Why didn’t you tell anyone you were going?” he yelled.
“I didn’t think it mattered. Am I not allowed to go out?”
“Yes, of course you are allowed to go out.” Frederic ran his hands through his hair and sat on the edge of his desk. How to explain to her that he had enemies? His principality was a very important piece of real estate between two warring factions. That’s why Wolfgang and Helmut were both trained in security. But since she did not know his true title, she would not understand why they were in danger.
“It is not safe to go out alone.” Perhaps she would just take his word for it but that was not the case.
“I don’t understand, darling. We live in a very nice part of town, near the best shops. Why would anyone wish to harm me?“
“You are very naïve, Cassandra. You must trust me about this. Promise me that you will not go out unaccompanied. You must take Wolfgang; that’s what he’s for. He will stay by your side and carry your packages. Wouldn’t that be nice?” he asked, pleading with her to understand.
“But if it’s just my girlfriends and I, he would get bored.”
“He’s a servant darling, trained in security. He would be vigilant, not bored. Consider him to be a sort of a bodyguard.”
“Well, I still don’t understand. I think this entire matter is silly. I have no intention of always being chaperoned as if I were a child. ” Cassandra felt it just wasn’t fair. Her husband went out on his own all the time. He just wanted to spy on her. Frederic said no more but stood and took her by the hand and led her to his desk. He ordered her to bend over it and hold on to the far edge. Cassandra turned to him and then saw it – her husband was holding the tan strap in his hand, the one that usually hung on the side of his desk. She shrieked and covered her flanks.
“No Frederic, please. Please don’t punish me. I didn’t know,” she begged. First, to be yelled at in front of the servants and now this - punished in the middle of the day when the servants were about? Why she would never survive the shame!
“Are you refusing to obey, little one? Would you prefer to choose a cane?” He gestured to the collection on the wall.
Cassandra felt tears spring to her eyes. It was all so unfair! Her husband didn’t care about her safety, he just wanted to control her every movement. She didn’t like living like this.
“Undo your drawers, wife and take your place over the desk,” he ordered in a low, dangerous voice. She paused for a moment looking at him as beseechingly as she could, but he was implacable. There was no mercy in his eyes, none at all. She slowly lifted her skirts and then reached underneath and undid her drawers. They slithered to the ground.
Frederic was watching her, not moving a muscle, expecting her to obey. She stepped forward; out of her drawers and lifted her skirts all around, knowing that he required this. She laid herself over the desk, the edge pressing into her upper thighs. Tears came to her eyes as Frederic bent and removed her stockings and then tied each ankle to the legs of the desk. She whimpered; this position gave her too wide of a spread for the strap. She was afraid of where the wicked edge would go. There was no way to protect the area between her legs in this shameful position. She was crying openly now, dreading this second correction from her husband.
Her husband came around to the front of the desk and grabbed her wrists, tying them together with his tie and then affixing the ends to the center drawer knob. He moved behind her and grabbed the back of her skirts, flinging them over her head. Cassandra’s heart sank as she realized that now she was nothing to him, just a bared bottom awaiting chastisement.
“I am applying this strap firmly to your impudent backside to drive home the message that you are to never, ever go out unaccompanied. Do you understand?”
Cassandra sighed. Her voice came out from under her voluminous skirts, muffled, “Yes, Sir. I understand.” Cassandra had been tawsed before. It had been a favorite punishment implement of her Scottish nanny. Her father also had frequently used the strap or his belt; her wedding eve birching had been an anomaly. But she was unprepared for the fire that the slender tan strap ignited. She shrieked as he struck. She knew she was in for it now; her bottoms would be tanned like a piece of hide. As the strap fell, its straight edge cunningly worked its way into the crack between her cheeks. There was an entire series of blows during which the wicked edge kissed her nether lips repeatedly. These blows caused her to squirm as much as she was able and sing out louder. Her little cunny felt like it was on fire! She felt her skin begin to plump and swell wherever it had been kissed by the strap.
And Frederic was just getting started. He began to strike in earnest and as was his way he struck quickly, thoroughly covering her bottom and everything in between. Then he started down her thighs. Cassandra screeched at this. Her thighs were now on fire! She was screeching at the top of her lungs, no longer caring who could hear.
“Please Sir, please... please stop! Owww, Owwww, yeowwww, oh God, please – my Lord, not so hard! Yeooowwwwww!” He didn’t stop until she was on fire from her waist down to the back of her knees. Cassandra continued to react to the falling strap, swinging her cheeks back and forth and showing her husband everything that lay between. Between the tremendous thwacks of the strap on bare skin and Cassandra’s screeches and howls, she was certain that the entire household must have been alerted that the Lady of the Manor had once again needed to be corrected.
Afterwards she was forced to stand facing the wall holding up her skirts, her bright red bottom bare and shiny from the attention of the strap, prominently on display. She felt like a child at home again, a child who had been spanked by her father. Her husband sat at his desk working away, indifferent to her suffering. After awhile she heard a knock on the door and her husband got up to answer it. She heard a male voice; it was Helmut standing behind her talking to Frederic about a caller waiting in the vestibule. She clenched her bottom, extremely humiliated to have it on display to a servant - a male servant at that – the shame! Helmut now knew for certain what her punishment had consisted of. Would the entire staff hear all about it? Then she heard a swishing of skirts as Liesl had entered the study and stood there awaiting Frederic’s command.
“Madam is to hold position for another half hour. Then you may dress her for tea,” he ordered. Cassandra leaned her head against the wall. So this is how it would be, the servants privy to her punishments, even helping to enforce them. She glimpsed the future, in her thirties, forties and fifties - still standing, exposing her well roasted rump to the servants - the mistress of the house, being treated like a naughty little girl.
A childhood memory came to her of standing outside her mother’s room one day and hearing something until she’d been shooed away by a passing servant. It had sounded like a cracking sound and cries. Was her mother spanking one of her brothers she had wondered? But her mother wasn’t the disciplinarian in their family; it was father or the nanny. Now she realized, it must have been her mother being punished by father. Did he make her exhibit afterwards? Had her lady’s maid or the valet or butler ever heard her mother being punished or seen the aftermath? Cassandra wished she could ask her. She suddenly realized how much she missed her mother.
Cassandra stood for tea that afternoon. Hers was placed on the mantle as her husband dined at table. At first she was chastened and ashamed, but her husband only smiled lovingly at her and eventually she ended up on his lap, nuzzling his neck. The wonderful thing about corrections was that afterwards one was immediately forgiven and she herself held no grudge either. She had found that being punished by her husband made her more pliable, malleable, and entirely his. It was a comfort to know that her husband would not let her excesses go without firm correction. He would never allow her to become shrewish and unpleasant. She kissed Frederic’s neck and his strong jaw and he reached up under her skirts and gently patted her bare fanny lovingly. She sighed, knowing that her husband’s lips would follow his hands once she was put to bed with her bottom elevated on a pillow.
She adored having such an affectionate husband.
That night after dinner, Cassandra sat next to her husband on the love seat as they listened to music in the parlor. When the music ended, she reached under the cushion and produced the wrapped book.
“What is this?” Frederic asked, intrigued.
“It’s the reason I went out today. I wanted to get you this book for our trip.” Frederic frowned at this. “Don’t worry darling, I didn’t put it on account, I used my own money.” Frederic opened the gift, the book was gorgeous, with had pictures of various cemeteries and tales about some of the illustrious people buried in them. Shakespeare’s grave even had a statue of the famous bard himself.
Frederic swallowed hard. She had gone out to buy him a gift and he’d disciplined her for it. But there was no taking back what he’d done. She had to learn not to go out alone, even if he appeared unreasonable by insisting upon it. It had seemed unfair though and entirely unwarranted, she so rarely went out – he could not normally find fault with her behavior. Cassandra seemed committed to their marriage. She wasn’t out shopping all the time and running up accounts around town, she didn’t retreat to her family at every opportunity unlike other wives he had heard about. The one time she did go out, it was to get him a gift. And most of all, she didn’t resent him when he disciplined her. If anything it brought them even closer. Yes, his new marriage was going very well indeed. His wife was a bit temperamental and could be hotheaded, but he enjoyed being the voice of calm and reason in the relationship.
He held her closer and asked, “What else did you do while you were out, beloved?” Cassandra was pleased that he was asking about her day. She told him about running into her mother’s friends and how they’d taken her out for tea. Cassandra smiled as she watched her husband again return to the book, enjoying his gift. She truly loved him.
Prince Frederic put the book down and pulled his princess on to his lap. “I truly love you, dear one,” he said, voicing her thoughts back to her. I would never forgive myself if something were to happen to you. Promise me, swear that you will never leave the house without Wolfgang or me.”
“Yes my over-protective husband, I will never again leave the house alone.” She giggled as her husband rose and tossed her over his shoulder. He patted her sore fanny as he carried her to his room promising to rub numbing cream into it. She felt very loved indeed.
A week or two later Cassandra was surprised by her husband returning home early from work on an ordinary Tuesday afternoon. After exchanging pleasantries and a spot of conversation, Frederic quickly found out that Cassandra had not obeyed his order to send a message to her parents. He’d insisted she’d do so, since the lack of communication between his wife and her parents was starting to have a negative impact on his dealings with Cassandra’s father. She thus found herself in her bedroom being stripped naked by Liesl as her husband stood there watching. She was quickly turned over Frederic’s lap and he proceeded to busily dispense a very firm spanking to her plush posterior.
Cassandra wriggled and cried out as he peppered her luscious cheeks with swats. He stopped and rubbed her bottom for a few moments. Cassandra moaned but she did not say that she would contact her family. Frederic wasn’t going to let her off until she did. He began to resume her spanking, enjoying the handprints showing up on her pale cheeks. He wanted to lie her down and mount her and squeeze those cheeks until she came hard. He knew that a little punishment was highly stimulating to his wife. Even now, as he spanked away, he could see a goodly amount of cream gathering in her little cunny.
“What a naughty girl you are,” he tsked, scolding as he spanked. “A simple thing like sending a message, you are unwilling or unable to do. Well, here is the result. I hope it was worth it.”
“My Lord, please, please Sir, you are hurting me!” she wailed. Frederic smiled. These were just love pats and her dramatics were not going to get her off. He stopped spanking and righted his wife until she was standing nude before him.
“Bring me your hairbrush, wife!” She knew better than to argue at this point. Cassandra, kneading her aching bottom, turned and walked to her vanity, crying crocodile tears all the way. She hesitantly picked up the hairbrush and returned to her husband’s side. It was wooden with a handle, the back made a perfect paddle. She had never been spanked with it before.
“Now hold out the hairbrush and ask me to use it on you.” Cassandra sniveled, was he jesting? Frederic grabbed her upper arm and arranged her before him and then pulled down on her arm until she was kneeling between his legs.
“I will repeat myself one more time, Cassandra. Ask me to smack your little bottom with this hairbrush until it is blistered. Say, ‘Please punish me my husband for I have been very, very naughty.’ ”
Cassandra sniffed and looked into his eyes. He wasn’t kidding; there was no humor there at all. He appeared to be very angry as he took the hairbrush from her. A fresh flood of tears came to her eyes as she began to speak, “Puh... please punish me, sir. Please blister my... my bottom with this hairbrush.... for my naughtiness,” she finished, her voice choking with shame.
“Very good. Now kiss the hairbrush that I intend to use on your naughty behind.”
Cassandra leaned forward. Her husband was holding the hairbrush down low, right in his lap. Cassandra suddenly felt extremely submissive being naked before her fully clothed husband, kneeling and bending to kiss the back of the hairbrush he was going to use upon her. And if she knew her husband, he would not dispense it in half measures. Her bottom was in for a long unpleasant session over her husband’s lap.
She pressed her lips against the hairbrush and then, unbidden, pressed them against his hand, the hand he would use to paddle her. She looked up at him through the teardrops on her eyelashes. She could see that her husband was stimulated by all of this; there was definitely a gleam in his eye. Hope swelled within her breast. Perhaps this punishment would not go on too long, as his arousal was clearly becoming evident. To be honest, Cassandra herself was quite excited by this show of submission to her spouse.
He patted his lap, indicating that she was to arrange herself upon it, complicit in her own downfall. She stood and climbed over his lap very gingerly. She squirmed as she could feel her husband’s erection poking into her tummy. She had an overwhelming urge to take him in her mouth and suck on his manhood for comfort. Before she could say so, though, she heard the hairbrush descend. She squealed, the sound of the crack of the hairbrush connecting with her bare cheeks was almost worse than the feel of the actual swat. She groaned and wriggled anew, grasping her husband’s leg, He was sitting on the edge of her bed and she could barely reach the ground, his legs were too long.
He stopped paddling her for a moment. “Assume the position, Cassandra. You know better. Up on your toes now, push that bottom up for its just desserts.” She straightened her legs, raising her bottom up off his lap. Could this punishment become any more humiliating? She obediently shuffled her legs apart, knowing that all was visible to her husband now. He could see right up between her thighs to her very core. She was dripping wet and knew her husband could see that too. She sent a silent curse to her impudent body for betraying her by showing her husband how much this excited her. What was wrong with her? Why was she so wanton? She didn’t care. All she wanted was to be taken by her husband, taken hard. She wanted to spend the rest of the day in her husband’s arms loving and being loved by him.
Frederic brought the hairbrush down with another loud crack. He enjoyed the thought that the servants could hear him paddling his little wife. Soon they would hear much more as he claimed her. He intended to make love to her for the rest of the day and long into the night. He brought the hairbrush down a dozen more times until his wife was truly in distress, sobbing and squealing and then he gave a dozen more for good measure. He was so excited he thought he was going to come in his pants. He couldn’t even remember why he was punishing her at this point. He was enjoying her groans and her moans and the gyrations o
f her fleshy little buttocks as he whaled away upon them.
Finally the hairbrush fell to the floor and Frederic pulled his wife up to a standing position. This put her coral nipples right at the level of his face. He sucked a breast into his mouth and squeezed her buttocks as he suckled at her. She groaned and held on to his shoulders, her knees threatening to give out, but still he continued. He nibbled on one tender nipple until she whimpered and then switched his attention to the other. He suckled away until she again began to whimper. He pulled her breast out of his mouth with a pop.
“Do you wish me to stop, beloved?” he asked with an evil grin, dredging up all the sarcasm he could muster.
“God, no” his wife breathed. “Take me Frederic, take me hard. Please, don’t stop... please...”
She squealed as he stood and picked her up and then tossed her down on the bed. He stripped his clothes off quickly, his pupils dilating as his wife touched herself, right in between her legs and began to move against her own hand! It was the most stimulating thing he’d ever seen.
“Put your fingers up inside yourself, Cassandra. Do it!” he ordered, frozen in place watching as his wife obeyed. She spread her legs as widely as possible and began to impale herself on her own fingers.
Frederic - now unclothed - growled as he climbed in between those thighs. He leaned forward and watched avidly as his wife’s fingers busily played with herself, alternating stroking her clit with slipping them up inside of herself. He spread her nether lips for a better look and then, as she removed her fingers, he replaced them with his own. He pumped inside his wife as she played with her own clit until she stiffened and screamed out her pleasure. It was a glorious sight!
The scent of her arousal was like an aphrodisiac to him and he quickly flipped her over, taking her from behind. He knew his wife; she loved nothing better than to be impaled as her spasms of pleasure were still upon her. This seemed to heighten her excitement and she would scream his name repeatedly, to his great delight. He pulled her red cheeks up against him over and over, slapping them against his pelvis, squeezing and pinching them as she bucked and squealed and pushed back hard against him. This time they took their pleasure together, their cries shaking the very rafters.
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