Readers may like to know that I was given an overdue and very thorough spanking on Sunday evening. Led to the bedroom by my ear, I was given a good talking-to (with lots of yummy finger wagging) and made to confess my various misdeeds from the past fortnight. Needless to say, I felt very small and foolish, squirming on the spot, my jeans round my ankles.
The dreadful litany of crimes duly listed, BH leaned in close and said, in his best authoritative tone, “There’s only one thing to do with naughty little girls like you, isn’t there?”
Head bowed, I whimpered a sorry little “Yes, Sir,” in response.
Without saying another word, BH sat upon the bed and I lay across his lap. He gave me a long warm-up hand spanking, taking my knickers down midway through. (I love that bit!) As my defenceless cheeks were smacked an ever deeper shade of pink, I was told off for kicking my legs (yum), told off again for answering back (mmm) and told that I was grounded for a week (ohhh!)
I already knew that I was in for a good deal more, but I made it a certainty by responding to a scolding remark with a very bratty raspberry. The naughty grin was quickly wiped off my face with the dreaded words, “That does it. It’s the wooden spoon for you, young lady!”
I squirmed and pleaded and bucked and wailed, but I was held firm and the spoon was applied to my bottom just as I deserved it: hard, fast and at great length. My poor cheeks were burning long before the end, and I was a very, very sorry little girl.
My bottom is still a little sore as I type this today. I had better make sure I’m on my best behaviour for a while, hadn’t I?
Image copyright punishedbrats.com.
The dreadful litany of crimes duly listed, BH leaned in close and said, in his best authoritative tone, “There’s only one thing to do with naughty little girls like you, isn’t there?”
Head bowed, I whimpered a sorry little “Yes, Sir,” in response.
Without saying another word, BH sat upon the bed and I lay across his lap. He gave me a long warm-up hand spanking, taking my knickers down midway through. (I love that bit!) As my defenceless cheeks were smacked an ever deeper shade of pink, I was told off for kicking my legs (yum), told off again for answering back (mmm) and told that I was grounded for a week (ohhh!)
I already knew that I was in for a good deal more, but I made it a certainty by responding to a scolding remark with a very bratty raspberry. The naughty grin was quickly wiped off my face with the dreaded words, “That does it. It’s the wooden spoon for you, young lady!”
I squirmed and pleaded and bucked and wailed, but I was held firm and the spoon was applied to my bottom just as I deserved it: hard, fast and at great length. My poor cheeks were burning long before the end, and I was a very, very sorry little girl.
My bottom is still a little sore as I type this today. I had better make sure I’m on my best behaviour for a while, hadn’t I?
Image copyright punishedbrats.com.
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