As I sit here writing this post my backside is still so painful that I’m fidgeting about trying to get comfortable enough to sit here and type for however long this post will take me to write. It’s been 24 hours since He hit me and while the pain has lessened and changed my sense of rage at the injustice of my punishment remains. The worst thing about my anger is my complete inability to express it, defend myself and clear my name. He has judged me guilty, sentenced me and forced me to confess to something I didn’t do.
What was my supposed crime? He said I stole £100 from His wallet. I didn’t. I know I didn’t take the money, I doubt the money ever existed. I think He knows I’m innocent too.
Two days ago, He confronted me over the missing money. I denied taking it and thought no more about it. Yesterday, while the baby was at nursery, He confronted me again. He made me sit down then stood over me while He told me that the money had gone and I was the only person who could have taken it. I denied it, obviously, but He told me He knew I’d done it and I should stop lying as I was just making things worse for myself. His tone reminded me of a telling off I got from one of the older male teachers at school. The teacher had taken great pleasure in standing over me while he lectured me about my wrong doing and told me all the ways he would have punished me in the past if he was only allowed to still do it. Yesterday felt the same with the exception that now Richard has the power to actually do to me all those things my old teacher had wanted to do. And, I knew He would.
I felt totally helpless as Richard told me I am a thief and a liar. I was to be punished for my thieving ways with 12 stokes of the cane – He said He was being very lenient and it should really be one stroke for every pound I’d stolen. I stayed quiet for a moment then quietly denied being a thief again.
“Okay,” His voice sounded weary as if He’d had enough of listening to my lies. “I’m going to give you one last chance to admit what you did.”
“I didn’t take the money,” I told Him slowly and deliberately.
“Fine, if you’re going to lie then you’ll be punished for that too. Three strokes of the paddle for lying.” Before the words had sunk in He ordered me to go and fetch the paddle from our bedroom while He got a cane.
“But, I didn’t… that’s not fair… I didn’t take anything,” I stammered.
“You don’t fucking learn do you?” He snapped at me. “Six strokes of the paddle now. You’ve got 60 seconds to get that paddle and I’ll add another for every second longer it takes you to fetch the thing.”
I can tell you that I’ve never bolted up a flight of stairs so fast as I did after he said that. I knew exactly where the paddle was and was back to Him within 40 seconds. “Do I get a reduction for being so quick?” I asked cheekily.
“Nice try,” He smiled, so I wasn’t entirely in His bad books. I felt a little flutter in my belly at that realisation.
I slipped my hands under my dress and pulled down my knickers – let’s be honest, this wasn’t my first spanking and I know the drill – handing them to Him in a sort of silent mini-ritual symbolising that I was now completely defenceless with even the meagre protection of the thin cotton surrendered to the man who would momentarily try to inflict as much pain on me as possible for a crime I didn’t commit and a lie I didn’t tell.
“Do you want to confess now?” He asked. I shook my head, not daring to meet his eyes in case even this defiance increased my sentence. “Okay then, get in position.” I turned, leaned forward and stretched myself across the dining table grasping the far edge. I had unthinkingly bent over with my legs spread apart, partly this helps get my hips to the height of the table top but it also increases that feeling of submission and helplessness which are the things that turn me on about being spanked far more than pain ever will. My feeling that I was being totally controlled rose as His hands touched my bare thighs, slid upwards lifting my dress from my bum and exposing me to Him.
Without warning His hand struck the bare flesh of my backside and was quickly followed by a dozen or so barehanded spanks alternating between buttocks. Now, bare hand spankings definitely sting but on a pain scale out of 10 I’d say that even the most ferocious is rarely more than a 1 compared to a proper spanking with an implement. This wasn’t part of my punishment, this was just warming my backside up before the real spanking started.
“Oh shit,” He said from behind me. “I forgot to get the cane. Stay right there,” with that I felt the paddle being placed carefully on my back so if he came back and it wasn’t how He left it He’d know I’d disobeyed him. Our dining room opens out on to the garden. I heard the garden door open behind me and felt a rush of cooler air on my exposed rear-end. Resting my forehead on the table top I felt more exposed and helpless than ever. He couldn’t have been away more than a minute but it felt longer as I waited there perfectly still for His return.
“Good girl,” He said suddenly from behind. I heard the door close a second later. I felt the thick wood of one of the garden canes I’d bought to grow roses up last week run over the backs of my legs and bum. I gripped the edge of the table that little bit tighter.
Swoosh, swish, crack.
The cane swooshed away from me and a moment later swished loudly through the air landing across my bare bum with a loud crack that knocked my hips into the edge of the table. I grasped the table edge so hard I felt sure my hands would tear the wood in two. The pain hit me a few seconds later while the cane briefly caressed my bare bum gently again.
Swoosh, swish, crack.
The second lash landed even harder than the first and along what felt like precisely the same line as the first doubling the pain.
Swoosh, swish, crack.
Strike number three exploded in what now felt like a trench that had been dug across my backside by the first two strokes. I could hear myself breathing hard and despite my clenched teeth I was sure I let out an involuntary cry that time. Again He caressed my behind with the length of His cane like He was waiting just long enough for the pain to blossom before He inflicted the next batch.
Swoosh, swish, crack.
Swoosh, swish, crack.
Swoosh, swish, crack.
Swoosh, swish, crack.
Four strokes landed hard and fast. His accuracy may have suffered because of the speed of His strokes but I can tell you that when my bum relayed the news about the latest arrivals to my brain it made clear that it was suffering badly by delivering the news in what I would describe as a pain-bomb that exploded upon receipt. There was a brief pause and the cane caressed my exposed, burning bum cheeks again.
Swoosh, swish, crack.
The eighth stroke hit me. It felt like it traced a perfect line across the land site of the first three strokes but in truth my backside was hurting so much it was hard to tell one part from another. He paused again. This time the cane was placed carefully across my back and He caressed my bum with His hands gently stroking all over. I sensed He standing close and imagined Him pretending to fuck me as I laid there helpless and exposed to Him. I didn’t dare look around though. This wasn’t the toughest beating I’ve ever taken but it was the first for a very long time and the last thing I wanted to was to invite additional punishment. When I felt Him gently hold my hips and His crotch press against mine I knew he was imagining fucking me. I realised for the first time that I was quite wet. Maybe he had the same thought as me because almost as soon as I thought it, His hand slipped between us and I felt a finger trace the line of my pussy lips once. Then twice, this time slipping between them then sliding up and into me. I groaned the groan of a girl who just got something she didn’t even know she wanted.
“Am I not hitting you hard enough?” He asked. “You seem to be enjoying it,” as He spoke He gently finger-fucked me. I didn’t answer, instead I moaned quietly wishing His finger was something else, something bigger and thicker. Like a true tease He found my g-spot, rubbed it just enough to work me up then pulled his finger from me altogether. He came to face, crouching down so we were face to face. “Four more to go,” He said tapping my nose and leaving the wet feel of my own juices on its tip. He put his finger to my lips, which I obediently opened and sucked His finger clean. “Good girl,” He praised.
He stood and for a moment I was sure I could see a bulge in His jeans where His cock sat hard, erect, waiting for me. I wished I weren’t mid-punishment so I could reach out and free it right away. I was still dreaming of that cock when He picked up His cane from my back.
Swoosh, swish, crack.
Swoosh, swish, crack.
Swoosh, swish, crack.
Swoosh, swish, crack.
He laid on the last four strokes with such force and speed that I had no time to register them and for a second time a pain-bomb exploded in my head as the reports of multiple strikes were all received at once.
The cane was placed gently on the table next to my prostrate body. He walked around again, crouching to come face to face with me. “Is there anything you want to say?” He demanded.
“I… I… er… Thank you,” I stammered trying to gauge the right response.
“Good girl, but no.” He used his most condescending voice to talk down to me. “Is there anything you want to say about you stealing the money?” He paused a second, “anything that isn’t going to get you in more trouble?”
No, absolutely nothing rang out in my head but my lips answered, “I’m sorry for stealing your money.” This was it, the real punishment. The caning hurt and I knew that the paddling I was about to receive would be worse, but this humiliation of confessing to a crime I didn’t commit, that would stay with me long after the physical pain subsided. Even thinking about it now two days later (yes, I didn’t write the post in one day, so what? Sue me, I’m lazy) I feel humiliated picturing myself laying there prone, completely in His power so desperate to please Him and avoid any more pain than I had to experience that I admitted to being a thief and a liar.
“Good girl, you see it’s not hard to be honest is it?”
I’m not being honest, I didn’t do it. “No, I’m sorry”.
“If you’d just asked I’d have given you that money, you know that don’t you?”
I didn’t take the money. “Yes, I know that. I’m sorry.”
“And if you just confessed when I asked then your punishment would be over now, wouldn’t it?”
Agghhh I have nothing to confess too. “I’m sorry for lying to you”.
“Good, I’m glad you understand now but I can’t help thinking you’re only saying you’re sorry because you’re hurting.” He was gently stroking my face as He lectured me. “I mean after I told you I was going to paddle you for lying you could have just stopped and you’ve have got three smack but now you’re going to get six, aren’t you?”
This is so unfair. “Yes. I’m sorry for lying to you”. I looked away as I spoke.
“Look at me, Emily.” I obeyed. “Tell me why you’re being punished, I want to hear you say it and admit what you did.
I didn’t do anything, I’m being punished for nothing. “I stole money from you then I lied to you and when you gave me a chance I lied again. I’m sorry.”
“Okay, good girl.”
That little lecture was definitely the worst part. I wanted to scream loudly and protest my innocence. But where would that get me? At this rate, probably tied to the table and beaten with every implement in the house for lying. No, that was pointless and futile. I swallowed my pride. I submitted to Him. I accepted His ruling even though I knew it to be wrong, but in this house He is the man, He is in charge and I am obliged to obey Him. All these thoughts rushed through my head in a raging sea of furious but impotent waves. Then my final humiliation. One that for a moment only I knew but He was bound to discover sooner or later: I was horny. My total submission to Him, the degrading lecture and my humiliating confession actually turned me on.
“I think someone likes getting into trouble a little too much,” He declared from behind me. What the actual fuck, can He read minds now? I wondered to myself. Then I felt something move inside me. He’d slipped two fingers into me and I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts I hadn’t even noticed! The fingers left my body and I felt them grasp my hips, the slick wetness of my pussy transferred to the flesh of my right hip while His try warm hand held my left hip. I felt warmth between my legs, something like a fat finger with its cold nail pressing against the lips of my pussy. It wasn’t a finger though. The cold nail like thing was his piercing and it slide into me followed by the welcome length of his cock opening and filling me at once. I gasped, whimpered, cooed and sighed pretty much all at once. Releasing my grip on the table edge for the first time I was able to push myself backwards onto His cock, driving him deeper into my body. I wanted to get up, face Him and lay on my back so I could enjoy watching Him thrust into me but I reminded myself that we weren’t making love. I was being punished to stealing and lying. I was being fucked by my punisher and this was no time for me to do anything but be meek, pleasing and obedient. Even as I accepted that He was in total charge of me and my body the excitement of my situation drove me to cum, which I did loudly. He took a clump of my hair as I came, pulled my head back and promptly came inside me. I felt His cock throb and pulsate then the warmth of His cum being pumped into my unprotected pussy and I was very content right then.
He pulled me off the table. Obediently I went to my knees where I sucked His cock clean of my juices and the last of His cum. He held me there, His cock in my mouth. His hands on my head while he breathed hard, recovering from His orgasm. I teased His cock with my tongue eliciting a heavy sigh of pleasure from Him every time I found a sensitive part.
“Get back in position,” He commanded once He’d recovered enough to speak, although His hands held me still, on my knees, dick in my mouth, for a few seconds longer.
He released me and I pulled myself up and over the table. I waited while he pulled His boxers and jeans back on. He picked up the paddle. “Right,” He began sounding a little dazed still. “Six with this, do you want alternating cheeks or three on one cheek then three on the other?”
“Alternating please,” I figured that the extra few seconds between blows would be better than getting them all at once.
I guess He drew His hand back because I heard air whooshing through the holes drilled in the paddle before an almighty CRACK!! pealed off my right bum cheek throwing me forward with such force that I’m sure I would have hit the wall face first if the table hadn’t been there. The pain was instant, reigniting the reddened areas that the cane had whipped into and firing up a whole new level of agony everywhere it touched. I kept quiet though.
Whoosh, CRACK!!
This time I screamed loudly as the paddle slammed back into my right bum cheek, He had obviously decided to do the opposite of what I asked for. I’m not surprised, after all the point of punishing me is to cause me as much pain as possible within the limits of the sentence not to submit to my wishes. Not that I saw it quiet to clearly at the time.
Whoosh, CRACK!!
I started crying when the third blow landed on my already damaged right butt cheek. Part of me wanted to get up and run away before the same happened to my left bum cheek but I held that table even tighter and promised myself I’d be strong even as tears ran over my nose and pooled on the table top.
“Nearly there, Emmy.” Maybe He sensed my urge to run so soothed me with reassurances that it was nearly all over. “Just be a good girl a bit longer, don’t do anything to make this worse.” It was a warning despite His gentle reassuring tone of voice.
“I’ll be good,” I promised more for myself than for Him.
Whoosh, CRACK!!
Whoosh, CRACK!!
Whoosh, CRACK!!
He delivered all three blows to my left butt cheek hard and fast barely giving me time to registered each one before the next hit me.
It was over. I lay across the table sobbing unwilling to move until I had permission to stand and, honestly, terrified of the pain I’d feel when I did move. “Come on, up you get.” He helped me straighten up. He held my face and looked into my eyes, or tried to at least, I still felt too humiliated to look in his eyes and besides I could barely see a thing through the tears. He wiped the tears away from my eyes – God knows what sort of mess I looked like by then. “You’re so pretty when you’re a mess, you know?” He smiled and I laughed a little at the thought anyone could think I was pretty with tears streaming down my face, no doubt black tears from my eye makeup that was surely running by now.
“I hope I’m never going to have to punish you for stealing again?”
God even now the lecture was continuing. “No, I promise.” I said truthfully.
“What about lying to me?”
I haven’t lied to you. “I’m sorry. I won’t lie again.”
“Good because stealing hurts doesn’t it?”
I didn’t steal anything. “Yes, I won’t do it again.”
“And lying hurts even more judging by your tears and screaming?”
Being hit for telling the truth hurts like Hell. “It sure does.”
“Good girl.” He kissed me on the lips. “Because next time I won’t be so gentle.”
God being humiliated like this turns me on. “I promise I’ll be a good girl for you from now on,” that I definitely meant.
We walked upstairs so I could lie down for a bit. On the way I had to take my dress off. I’ve no idea how such a flimsy thing can hurt so much but it managed it, feeling like it was catching on my swollen rear causing a thousand tiny pricks of agony with every movement.
In the bedroom, I slipped out of the green bra that was the only thing I was wearing and laid down on my side, naked. He helped me get comfortable. “Will you stay with me, please?” I asked.
“Sure,” He replied laying down to face me.
We lay a few inches apart gazing at each other’s faces. I don’t know how He felt, but I felt happy and content in that moment. I felt entirely subservient to Him, completely in His control. I wondered if this is how a mobile phone would feel, if it could feel, when being touched by its owner. I felt like I belonged entirely to Him.
I wriggled closer to Him, kissed His lips and sighed as His arms reached around my body, holding me to him. “Did you enjoy spanking me?” I asked.
“I think you enjoyed it,” He replied.
“It hurt too much.”
“Does it still hurt?”
I nodded in reply, “yes.”
“Well you best not do it again.”
“I didn’t…” I stopped before I finished the sentence. “I won’t, I am sorry,” I corrected myself feeling that sense of humiliation again. I kissed Him again, “I want you,” I told Him.
“Are you up to it?” He asked sounding a little worried He might hurt me, which seemed weird given He’d just beaten me to the point my backside was howling in pain and bruised but people are odd sometimes.
I nodded, “always up to it with you,” I promised.
He rolled me on my back and we kissed, His hand slipping quickly between my legs and into me emerging occasionally to pleasure my clit. The pain in my bum built up despite the soft sheets beneath me. He could tell, “it’s okay, I have an idea.” He helped me to the edge of the bed, my bruised bum hang in the air, my feet on His shoulders and His mouth working hard to eat my pussy. He must have been hungry because He ate his meal fast and before I really knew what had happened He had dined so well that I was rejoicing in my second orgasm. He finished then kissed my tummy right above my still throbbing pussy. I wanted Him so badly right then. “I want you so badly right now,” I gave voice to my desire. “I wanna feel your big dick inside me,” I was really coming clean now. “I want you to cum inside me again, I wanna feel you explode deep in me.” Damn even I thought I sounded a bit desperate. “Please fuck me,” I begged just deciding to go with the whole desperate slut thing.
He did not need to hear me beg him for sex more than the four or five times I’d just done it. He stood up, somehow naked from the waist down – I have no idea how He managed that while kneeling on the floor. I saw His big cock, erect and thick. His piercing gleaming with precum. We looked into each other’s eyes, me once again enjoying that all consuming feeling of being wholly owned by a man. Him no doubt just pleased to be there, which is how I assume all men feel when they’re having sex with a hot girl (yeah I think I’m hot. What of it?? Nah fuck you!).
He practically folded me in half, my bum hanging over the edge of the bed being held up mainly by the energetic thrusts pounding upwards into me. My legs were folded back meeting my shoulders and He felt like he was so deep inside me that He might pierce my heart with His cock if He didn’t ease up. Reader, I can tell you now that He did not ease up for a moment while I came on His dick more times than I can even remember. He finished inside me, filling me with cum for the second time that afternoon.
Afterwards we lay down together again, facing each other. Occasionally kissing but mostly just being together. We lay happy and content until a thought occurred to me, “you never carry money, you always use your cards. So, why did you have £100 in your wallet?” I asked.
“Shhhh,” he replied. We lay together a little longer in silence.
“Was there ever any money?” I asked softly.
“Shhhh, there’s a good girl.” He kissed my forehead and simultaneously spanked my bum, not hard but enough. I relaxed, He’d won. I was His completely now and if He said I was guilty then His verdict was the truth and whatever I thought I knew was irrelevant because I belong to Him.
Then I remembered, the week before I’d taken some money from His wallet to pay for some baby groups I’d joined and forgot to tell Him because He’d gone out with some friends that night.
Oops.
Confessions of a Former Bad Girl 