Or imitating a spanking scribble at least. Just like the girl in my Christmas story, this naughty Penny got her backside tanned good and proper yesterday. (What is it about Sunday and me being spanked?)
To be fair to BH, I had been pestering him for a hiding like an eight-year-old might pester for a pony. Day in, day out, “Can I have a spanking? Wow, I want a spanking. You know, there really is nothing like a good spanking.”
(A slight paraphrase, but you get the idea).
Yesterday was the first day in over a week when we didn’t have to see anyone or go anywhere. And silly Penny got what she asked for and more.
Marched to the bedroom. Stripped down to my panties and ordered onto the bed. Wrists tightly bound and tied securely to the headboard. Baby-pink ballgag popped into my mouth and fastened behind my head. And suddenly I am helpless. Kneeling, face down, ass up, presenting myself for punishment like the most wretched little whore.
Unbearable anticipation, unbearable tingling between my legs.
The tip of the riding crop is traced down my spine and over my waiting buttocks. I moan shamelessly; arch my back, push my bottom out to meet the instrument of my punishment. To signal my submission, my wantonness.
He talks to me as he teases me with the crop, his words an extension of its caress. I close my eyes and feel the truth of his words.
I am a wicked girl. A slut. I deserve to be bound. I deserve everything I have coming.
And then with full force he thrashes me. The strokes come at a deliberate pace; a rhythm that lets me feel the full effect of each, inside and out. I yelp into my gag, I drool, I writhe, dishevelled, disgraced.
I beg for mercy.
I deserve none, and receive none. That frightful crop returns to my backside over and over and over again, scorching it, each and every blow sending lightning bolts of remorse and desire and pleasure coursing through me, overwhelming me. Faster and faster it comes, and I scream into my gag.
My words are meaningless, worthless sounds. His are deeply-spoken, measured, final.
“I will shortly be taking your panties down and inspecting you, bitch. And heaven help you if I find you wet.”
His hand between my legs, caressing me through fabric. Growled words of reproach. Helpless, wanton arousal in the wicked girl kneeling on the bed. There are no other words for it: she is an absolute disgrace. And then she is exposed, humiliated, her sole and most intimate item of clothing taken down and left at her knees.
A disgracefully red bottom; a sure sign of a naughty girl. And, oh – worse, far worse! – the little slut has been enjoying her punishment! She even whimpers with delight as he touches her shame!
He is quite right to take the crop to me again, to thrash my bare ass and legs with it, mercilessly, for my own good, but how it stings! Oh, please, please! I’m sorry! PLEASE!
When at last – when he has beaten me to his full satisfaction – I am given the opportunity to please him I take it gratefully. I am a good little slut, an eager little toy. I know I was wicked and I am grateful to have been punished.
Fuck, I love spanky Sundays.
To be fair to BH, I had been pestering him for a hiding like an eight-year-old might pester for a pony. Day in, day out, “Can I have a spanking? Wow, I want a spanking. You know, there really is nothing like a good spanking.”
(A slight paraphrase, but you get the idea).
Yesterday was the first day in over a week when we didn’t have to see anyone or go anywhere. And silly Penny got what she asked for and more.
Marched to the bedroom. Stripped down to my panties and ordered onto the bed. Wrists tightly bound and tied securely to the headboard. Baby-pink ballgag popped into my mouth and fastened behind my head. And suddenly I am helpless. Kneeling, face down, ass up, presenting myself for punishment like the most wretched little whore.
Unbearable anticipation, unbearable tingling between my legs.
The tip of the riding crop is traced down my spine and over my waiting buttocks. I moan shamelessly; arch my back, push my bottom out to meet the instrument of my punishment. To signal my submission, my wantonness.
He talks to me as he teases me with the crop, his words an extension of its caress. I close my eyes and feel the truth of his words.
I am a wicked girl. A slut. I deserve to be bound. I deserve everything I have coming.
And then with full force he thrashes me. The strokes come at a deliberate pace; a rhythm that lets me feel the full effect of each, inside and out. I yelp into my gag, I drool, I writhe, dishevelled, disgraced.
I beg for mercy.
I deserve none, and receive none. That frightful crop returns to my backside over and over and over again, scorching it, each and every blow sending lightning bolts of remorse and desire and pleasure coursing through me, overwhelming me. Faster and faster it comes, and I scream into my gag.
My words are meaningless, worthless sounds. His are deeply-spoken, measured, final.
“I will shortly be taking your panties down and inspecting you, bitch. And heaven help you if I find you wet.”
His hand between my legs, caressing me through fabric. Growled words of reproach. Helpless, wanton arousal in the wicked girl kneeling on the bed. There are no other words for it: she is an absolute disgrace. And then she is exposed, humiliated, her sole and most intimate item of clothing taken down and left at her knees.
A disgracefully red bottom; a sure sign of a naughty girl. And, oh – worse, far worse! – the little slut has been enjoying her punishment! She even whimpers with delight as he touches her shame!
He is quite right to take the crop to me again, to thrash my bare ass and legs with it, mercilessly, for my own good, but how it stings! Oh, please, please! I’m sorry! PLEASE!
*****
When at last – when he has beaten me to his full satisfaction – I am given the opportunity to please him I take it gratefully. I am a good little slut, an eager little toy. I know I was wicked and I am grateful to have been punished.
Fuck, I love spanky Sundays.
sounds fun!
ReplyDeleteIt was! Lots and lots of fun :D
DeleteOh my. Oh, my. Well, once I'd stopped shaking my head at the thought of any naughty girl having to pester to get a spanking, I very much enjoyed reading about yours.
ReplyDeleteIn fact I might have to read about it all over again now...
xx
So glad you enjoyed it, Underling :)
DeleteThough I think you should be spanked for enjoying it quite so much. xx
An enjoyable tale. Pardon me while I adjust the thermostat. It's suddenly gotten warm in here.
ReplyDeleteAs warm as my thrashed, red bottom? That would be very warm indeed.
DeleteOh, good lord, Penny elf. Oh, good lord. Um. You need to TELL me when you post these things! *spankhug* <3
ReplyDelete*happysquirm*
DeleteI sorry. <3
oh wonderfully hot :) I'm so glad I caught this link today, Penelope. honk :D
ReplyDeleteHONK!
DeleteGlad you came by and that you enjoyed, Joelle :)
Need I tell you how hot I found that, or did the ozone layer just deplete some more as the steam rose out of Ireland and settled over the UK, saying so much more than mere words can.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Tara - you are very kind. Kind and naughty!
DeleteI believe that was Big Penny getting a sound spanking , It had to be Big Penny because lil penny knows better than use such language as the F word . tsk tsk tsk ...... such a naughty girl
ReplyDeleteIt was Big Penny, all right... though she didn't feel too big or clever once she had been finished with.
DeleteAn imma naughty girl, it true. I sorry. Kinda. xx
Sounds the spanking was a long time cumming..but well worth the wait, Penny..) What an erotic tale!
ReplyDeleteIt was indeed a long time - I thought I might pop if I went any longer without having my buns beaten. But oh, BH made them good and sorry!
Delete