by Maggie Ryan
"After your spanking, you will again be put in the corner, but this time you'll stand with your panties—if you are wearing any—down at your knees or your ankles and your hands linked together on top of your head. That will help keep your hands off your hot little bottom. You'll display your red bottom for as long as I think is necessary to remind you that hot, swollen, and painful bottoms are what little girls can expect when they have been naughty. I will call you from the corner and hold you until you know you are loved and forgiven. If you need to talk or ask questions, we will discuss it with you cradled in my arms. If it is late or I think you need the extra rest, I will then tuck you into bed, most likely on your tummy, where you will be expected to stay until the morning. Do you have any questions?"
Her head was spinning, every word he said sinking into her mind and her soul, her bottom already clenching. While she had been spanked quite often as a child, the entire spanking had never lasted more than fifteen minutes, and that was if she had received a lecture beforehand. In her childhood household, her father either spanked his children across his lap or bent over their beds. They knew they had been naughty, were told to prepare themselves, and he would then use his hand, paddle, or belt to remind them that it was a better idea to obey his rules. Never had a punishment taken anywhere near as long as what Craig was describing. Remembering he had asked her whether she had questions, she struggled to come up with one, but in point of fact had none; he had spoken slowly and clearly, his intentions perfectly explained in an exact step-by-step process. She didn't have any questions, at least not yet. Craig felt her shake her head against his neck.
"That's okay, sweetie. You can always ask me questions whenever you need to." He paused for a minute or so before he began the process that would start her discipline lesson. "Okay, can you tell me why are you going to get a spanking, Bunny?" She quivered at the use of her nickname. Craig felt it and mentally kicked himself. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I skipped an important step. I need you to sit up a little and look at me, as this is very important." She reluctantly did so, much preferring to snuggle into his arms, hiding her face against his neck.
"Good girl, thank you," he praised when she sat up and forced herself to meet his eyes. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were wide. Her pupils were slightly dilated with expectation, a bit of fear of what was going to happen, and arousal. He bent down and kissed the tip of her nose, and she gave him a quick smile. "This would be a good time to tell me if you don't like me calling you Bunny. I know you told your father that you were too old for that nickname. But, sweetie, I want you to know that I find it absolutely adorable, and you look like a Bunny to me. I will call you whatever you are most comfortable with: Barbara, Grace, Gracie, whatever you prefer, or even a combination of names. I'd like you to tell me what you prefer."
She looked away for just a moment before meeting his eyes again. "I … I like it when you call me Bunny," she admitted. "It … it makes me feel small and … and like you care about me. Maybe not if we go out, I mean with strangers or something, but when we are alone or with the group? I also like it when you call me Gracie; I … I don't want you to call me Barbara."
He smiled and nodded. "Thank you, Bunny. I like your choices and will do my best to remember them. However, when you are being punished or I need to give you a warning, I will use your full name."
She flushed, remembering instantly how she always felt the moment either of her parents called her Barbara Grace Dietrich—it had never been a good sign, most often leading to a spanking. "Yes, Da … Sir," she said, closing her eyes and praying he hadn't caught the slip.
"Thank you, Bunny. I'd like it if you would call me Daddy when we are alone. It makes me happy knowing you trust me enough to take care of you." She didn't answer, but also did not pretend that she didn't understand what he had said. Craig allowed her to collapse against him again, moving one hand to gently pat her rounded bottom-cheek. "Now, tell me why I'm going to spank you."
She flushed, but thought back to what had brought them here to her bedroom, she on his lap, his hand patting against her bottom, having a conversation prior to her first spanking. "I was horrible to Liz and Logan. I was rude to my parents and you. In fact, I was rude to everyone. I … I threw a tantrum like a child. I was awful. I'm sorry, I really am," she said softly.
"That's good, Bunny. That is why you are going to get your little bottom spanked. Now, can you tell me why I'm going to wash out your mouth with soap?" She sat up on his lap, her mouth open. Craig felt her squirm as if to get off his lap, but he held her just a bit tighter and kept his eyes on hers. "I'm not looking for the lawyer to make a case, Gracie. I'm looking for the little girl who knows what she did to earn a mouth soaping, Bunny. If you can tell me, I'll only give you one soaping. If I have to remind you, you'll get another after your spanking, as well."
Stunned at where this conversation was going and then equally stunned that she immediately knew what he meant, she found her eyes welling. "I … I cussed … a lot," she admitted, her bottom lip trembling. "I used some very naughty words and accused Logan of some really awful things."
"Very good. I know admitting that was hard because you don't like it when you act that way. I know it made you feel bad because you know your brother loves you very much and would be very hurt if he heard what you accused him of. I'm here to help you learn not to do things that make you feel dirty and guilty," Craig said, bending to kiss her forehead. He allowed her to relax before speaking again. "Are you ready?"
She wanted to scream that she hadn't made her closing argument yet and wasn't ready for the verdict. However, she knew she'd already had her trial and needed to accept the sentence. If she were really to explore this lifestyle, she would do as he'd referred to earlier. She'd need to put the lawyer away and be that little girl. She met his eyes and nodded. Craig stood easily, as if he weren't holding a grown woman in his arms. He carried her into the bathroom and sat her on the counter. She watched, her stomach flipping, as he opened her cabinet and found a new bar of soap and a washcloth. She watched as he turned on the water and wet the cloth, rubbing the soap across it until there were plenty of suds.
She trembled as he turned to her. "Open your mouth and stick out your tongue, Bunny." She hesitated but obeyed, shutting her eyes and whimpering softly as she saw him lift his hand towards her. "No, little girl, you need to keep your eyes open. You need to see what happens when beautiful little girls use ugly, dirty, vulgar words." He was pleased to see her open her eyes. He placed one hand on the back of her head, holding her gently and yet firmly in position. The moment he touched the cloth to her tongue, she lifted her hands to push him away, the soap seeming to burn on her taste buds. "No!" he said firmly. "You admitted you were naughty. Now, you need to be a big girl and submit to your punishment. I know this won't taste good, but, honey, it will be a good lesson, I promise. If you try to push my hand away again, I'll bend you over the potty, pull down your pajamas and panties and give you a spanking, wash your mouth out and then give you the spanking you already have coming. Now, put your hands in your lap and keep your tongue stuck out and your mouth open for Daddy." Her eyes filled with unshed tears, but she did everything he told her.
He washed her mouth quite thoroughly, scrubbing the entire surface of her tongue, the roof of her mouth, her gums, and every single tooth. He ignored her whimpers and the tears that began to stream down her cheeks. The times when she forgot and lifted her hands to try to push his hand from her mouth, he simply but firmly said 'hands!' and she dropped them instantly. When she was sputtering, suds frothing from her lips, he removed the cloth and turned on the water, filling a glass. "Spit," he said and this time her obedience was instant. She spat again and again, accepted the glass and rinsed and spit for several minutes. When Craig believed she was done, he turned off the water and using a towel, wiped her mouth and chin. He plucked a Kleenex out of the box on the counter and held it to her nose. "Blow," he instructed, and she again obeyed. He lifted her off the counter a
nd patted her butt. "Go to the corner and think about your naughtiness and how it affected not only the people that love and care about you but how it affected you as well. Think about what you sounded like, a beautiful girl who thinks she is tough when she screams out words like 'fuck and shit'."
Her face crimson, her shame intense as she pictured some stranger hearing her speak that way, she nodded and walked back into her bedroom, moving to stand in the corner where he could watch her from his seat in the chair. She was soon thinking about what he had said. She thought about the look on her mother's face when Barbara was saying the awful things about Elizabeth and Logan. She thought about the disappointment she had seen on her father's face when she told him never to call her Bunny again. She thought about the look of embarrassed shock on the other people's faces to be witnessing a grown woman acting like a spoiled, horrid two-year-old. She thought about Craig and how he had simply taken her in hand when she was cussing and screaming, threatening to sue him. She realized she felt awful, though she had apologized to everyone and had been assured she was forgiven. Her corner time told her that Craig had been correct. It didn't really matter if everyone else forgave her; she needed to forgive herself. For that to happen, she needed to go to bed with a hot, throbbing bottom and know that she would be spanked again if she ever pulled such an awful stunt in the future. She never once thought about the fact that Craig had assumed the authority to decide she needed her mouth soaped in addition to giving her the spanking she had requested. She didn't consider how easily he had controlled the events, how he had reduced her to feeling like a naughty little girl. What she did consider was how safe she felt, how warm it made her feel inside when he held her, cuddled her, or just kissed her cheek or nose. He was touching parts of her she had never let anyone see, parts deep inside that she rarely even allowed herself to consider.
It didn't seem like a minute had passed when she heard Craig call to her, though she had been standing, her nose to the corner for a quarter of an hour. She went to him, wanting to climb onto his lap and be cuddled. However, he wasn't sitting in the chair. He had moved to the ottoman and she knew it was time.
Craig drew her between his knees, looking up at her face. She had seemed a bit shocked in the bathroom, but her eyes now showed that she was at peace, accepting fully the need to be punished. Any vestige of the lawyer disappeared the moment Craig reached out and slowly pulled her pajama bottoms down to her knees. She was instantly that little girl standing before her daddy, knowing she had been naughty, knowing she was getting a spanking. Craig turned her sideways and guided her down over his knee. She shuddered but reached down to brace her hands against the floor. She whimpered when his hand patted her panty-covered bottom and his free leg lifted to cross over her legs. She knew it was to keep her from kicking up.
"Try not to reach back, Bunny," he said. "I don't want to hurt your hands. If you do, I'll hold them, but you'll feel more balanced if you keep your hands on the floor or around my leg. Okay?"
"Ye … yes, Sir," she said, almost sounding choked. Craig didn't make her wait. He lifted his hand and began to spank her. Barbara was instantly embarrassed that she was being spanked like a child, her bottom bouncing under each slap of his hand. She felt tears press against her eyelids, but didn't allow them to escape. She was determined to show him that she could submit to a spanking like an adult.
Craig had a totally different plan. He didn't want to have her feel she needed to keep quiet. He wanted her to feel free enough to squeal, beg, moan, cry out, and even scream if she needed. He continued to spank her, his hand moving from the outside of her cheeks towards the middle, from the top to the bottom where her legs met her thighs. He spanked her until he could see a pink glow from beneath the white cotton of her panties. When he stopped, Barbara lifted her head, turning back to look at him, tears shimmering in her eyes.
"Thank you. I won't do it again," she said.
Craig reached out to stroke her cheek. "I'm glad to hear that, Bunny," he said, and she managed to give him a small smile. "Now, lift up so I can take your panties down." Her eyes flew open, her smile disappearing as his words told her that her spanking was not yet over.
"But … I … I … don't want any … any more spanking," she suddenly sobbed, her tears rolling down her cheeks.
"I know you don't, baby girl, but you need one. Daddy promised you a hot, aching bottom, and Bunny, you'll learn that I always keep my promises. Now, lift up so Daddy can pull down your panties to bare your bottom and finish your spanking." His voice never raised, his expression never changed from the concern he showed her, but his tone told her he was absolutely serious. With another sob, she hung her head and lifted her hips. "That's my good girl," he said softly, as he slowly pulled her panties down to her knees to join her pajama bottoms, thoroughly enjoying her soft moan and the slight quiver she was unable to suppress as he bared her bottom.
When he began spanking her again, it felt much harder than before. Even the sound of his hand connecting to her bare bottom sounded crisper, sharper somehow. The burn began within a dozen swats, and she was soon bucking her hips, attempting to twist off his lap and kick her legs. His leg kept her effectively trapped, his free arm wrapped around her waist. When she reached back with one hand, he quickly grabbed it and pinned it at the small of her back. She attempted to pull out of his hold, and he moved to spank her thighs hard and fast as he told her to be still. She felt unbalanced but then grabbed his ankle with her free hand and held on for dear life. Once her entire bottom was burning and throbbing, the color a deep crimson, he tilted her a bit forward, lifting his leg so that her bottom was even higher. He then spanked her sensitive sit-spot under each buttock until she was blubbering, apologizing, and swearing she would never ever be naughty again. He spanked her until she stopped fighting and collapsed across his leg. When he felt her total submission, he gave her another dozen smacks before lowering his leg and letting his hand rest against her hot skin. He gave her a minute before gently guiding her off his lap to stand before him once again. She looked adorable to him, her hair mussed from tossing her head about, her cheeks shiny with tears that continued to slide down her cheeks, her lips trembling. He helped her blow her nose again, loving the blush that flooded her face at the thought of not even being allowed to blow her own nose but grateful he had helped her clear it. When he realized that her hands were behind her, rubbing her scalded cheeks, he pulled them away.
"No, Bunny. You aren't allowed to rub your bottom. You need to let it burn and ache to remind you what will happen every time you are naughty." He reached out and pulled her pajama bottoms and panties down to her ankles, causing her to emit another heart-wrenching sob, as if the position of her clothing allowed her to be even more exposed. "Go stand in your naughty corner and think about what you can do so that I won't have to spank you again for that kind of behavior." She was turned around and released to shuffle to the corner.
This time she felt every second of every minute he kept her nose to the wall. He reminded her to put her hands on her head and then told her to stick her red bottom well out into the room. She was so embarrassed in knowing that her bare bottom … make that her scalded red, throbbing, bare bottom was hanging out in clear view. She knew he would be looking at her, panties and pajama bottoms at her ankles, her legs trembling. She could swear she felt his eyes moving up her body to focus on her glowing globes. Her face burned with shame.
Craig would be looking at his naughty girl as she spent her corner time, but he also took the time to write something on a pad of paper he had found and slip it into her book at the same page as her bookmark. When he had first opened the book, it was to find she had marked the Chapter on discipline. He didn't know if it was simply fate, but he found it ironic. Smiling, he thought she could read that Chapter again, this time able to compare written words to the reality of how it felt to be a subject of those words. He closed the book, placing it back onto her bed table and then sat back to enjoy his little girl as she stood in
the corner.
He had been involved in the BDSM scene for years now but had discovered that he had far simpler tastes. Nothing pleased him more than to take care of a woman that truly needed him. He didn't want some clinging vine without a spine or a voice. He wanted a woman that was not only intelligent enough to engage in conversation, he wanted one that had a strong will, one with a capable spirit but one that would be able to let go of control and bask in his care. He knew that some of the women that seemed to be in total control outside in the workplace or within their social groups were the ones that needed to be babied the most. He had sensed that need in Barbara during the past weekend and had taken a chance from the moment she had asked him for her spanking. So far, she had responded very well to his controlling the evening and he found he wanted nothing more than to continue to explore with her.
He checked his watch. She had been in the corner for fifteen minutes. Her tears had stopped and the only sound coming from the corner was the occasional sniffle. He saw a hand beginning to drift from her head and prepared to instruct her to keep it off her scalded rump but saw that she was only wiping the tears off her cheek before re-linking it with the hand remaining on top of her head. He stood and went to the bed, removed the decorative pillows and put them on the floor. He turned down the quilt and fluffed the pillow where she'd lay her head. He put a box of tissues on her bedside table and turned on her alarm, making certain that it was set to wake her at her normal time. Though it was barely ten o'clock, he knew she'd be very tired, both emotionally and physically. The extra rest would do her good. He returned to the chair and took a seat.