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His lips against mine woke me. It was a tender kiss followed by an affectionate chuckle. “Okay, young lady, you are a complete cum coated mess, so I suggest you get straight in the shower. Clean yourself fully, then my office in school uniform including thick navy gym knickers at 9.30 prompt.”
I stretched out in bed and responded appropriately. I knew what was coming; I was incredibly apprehensive but was keen to get on with it.
He didn’t even need to mention no touching, we both already knew that was the case today and I had no desire to increase my punishment.
I washed the lipstick and cum from my body. I took my time dressing carefully in my school uniform and gym knickers, ensuring everything was correctly positioned and as it should be.
Butterflies flitted nervously in my stomach as I made my way to his study. His voice grave as he permitted me to enter.
I took my position in front of his desk.
“It is most unfortunate that I find myself in the situation of having to deliver your punishment this morning,” he began. “Yet I feel obliged to provide this discipline to help you with your obedience.”
He paused and I remained silent and demure.
“You are clear on the wrongdoing you committed, the necessity of a punishment and my choice of punishment?”
“Yes Sir,” I tried to keep my voice from shaking with the fear building inside me.
“Good,” he continued brusquely. “You will receive the prescribed eight strikes with the cane. The two which were additions will be performed first and across your gym knickers.”
He waited. “Thank you, Sir,” I responded appropriately.
“Your knickers will then be pulled down, so the six strikes for the initial brattish behaviour will be on your bare bottom. When we have finished you will spend ten minutes having corner time to consider your behaviour and your punishment. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Sir,” I confirmed. I bit my tongue to refrain from reminding him how much I hate corner time.
“Very good. Then we shall begin. I am keen to get this troublesome matter dealt with.”
I took a deep breath as he moved a few things on his desk. Then he gestured for me to stand before it, bend at the waist and lay my upper body across it. The leather felt cool against my aroused skin.
His hands gently stroked my back as I adjusted to the position. “You will remain still throughout. However, this is a punishment about obedience, so you will be expected to count each stroke and thank me for it.”
He moved around to behind me and lifted up my school skirt to reveal my large navy gym knickers. They are not an item I enjoy wearing but I know that is just part of the punishment and today I was grateful for the padding they may provide.
His fingers moved across the thick material, smoothing the fabric, adjusting the positioning of the knicker elastic slightly, caressing my cheeks through the material. He took his time; it was highly arousing but also allowed the panic to build inside me.
“Perfect,” he eventually announced. He walked around the desk to fetch the cane, allowing me a perfect view of it as he walked past. A wave of apprehension rippled through me.
“I think we are ready to begin,” he finally announced. “You may grip the edge of the desk at any stage if required.” That comment did not calm my nerves.
He stepped in beside me and rubbed the cane against my backside. I fought the urge to wriggle and remained still and composed.
The rubbing moved on to small taps with the cane. He was warming up, building the tension.
I felt the cane move away, sensed the movement of his arm and the implement through the air, and then the first strike landed squarely across my behind. I winced but was grateful for the protection of the knickers. It had definitely awoken my pain receptors but without the intense bite on bare flesh.
He cleared his throat expectantly. “One Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
The second followed quickly. I realised he must have gone easy on me on the first one. I hissed as the pain surged through the flesh on my bottom.
My hands gripped the edge of the desk. “Two Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
“Good girl.” He reached up and slipped his fingers inside the waistband of my knickers, pulling them down to around my knees. Such a humiliating position I always feel, with your knickers half down – exactly why he left them there, I am sure!
He caressed the two stripes across my bottom – gently running his fingertips over them.
Then he picked up the cane again, rolling it over the two welts and starting the tapping again. Preparing himself. Letting me know to prepare. I tried to relax the muscles that were about to be impacted; I knew tensing them would only increase the pain. I breathed out slowly.
The cane moved away.
The noise through the air.
The impact.
The intense burning sensation.
The yelp of pain I emitted.
“Three Sir. Thank you, Sir,” through gritted teeth.
Followed by number four, this time hitting the tops of my thighs. The different position taking me by surprise and making me hiss.
“Four Sir. Thank you, Sir,” the words coming from deep within me.
Five caught me on the exact point where the curve of my buttocks meets the tops of my thighs. Such a sensitive point.
I cried out as the cane caught me there.
The words caught in my throat. “Five Sir. Thank you, Sir,” coming out as a sob.
Sir paused and walked around the table. He bent down so he could look me in the eyes. He could see the tears. He held my gaze. Without him uttering a word, I knew what he was asking. I nodded, almost imperceptibly. He nodded back, acknowledging my agreement to continue. “Good girl.”
He took his position again. He ran a hand over my back, reassuring me. Then across my bottom, feeling the heat of it, judging the intensity of the welts.
“Good girl,” he soothed again.
Yet the next strike showed none of the same mercy. It landed hard across the backs of my thighs, directly on top of the previous lash there. The intensity of the pain was starting to overwhelm me. It burned at my flesh.
“Six Sir. Thank you, Sir,” I managed, half speaking, half crying.
How I wished this was over. How I wished I had not earned an additional two.
It was as if Sir could read my mind. “Such a shame you earned yourself an additional two strikes of the cane. Otherwise, this unfortunate business would now be over.”
He re-iterated the words, “Such a shame,” as the cane landed fiercely across my buttocks. It seared at my skin. I was properly crying now.
“Seven Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
Once again, he walked to the front of the desk and looked at me. I returned his gaze. “Yes Sir,” I nodded. Now I just wanted him to get on with it, to get this finished.
He took his time walking back around. His hands rubbed gently at my burning buttocks.
The wait was driving me wild. I wanted to beg him to continue, but knew it was not my place to dictate the pace.
Finally, I heard the sound of the cane whipping through the air. A huge crescendo of a blow landed on the sensitive crease between buttock and thigh. I howled.
My breathing ragged as I managed, “Eight Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
My skin burned with the pain. My breath coming in gulps and gasps. He gave me a minute to calm myself. Then a gentle hand on my shoulder, just reassuring me he was there.
Slowly, I managed to steady my breathing. To endure my searing behind.
“Get up,” he asserted. “Corner time, facing the wall.”
I wanted to rage against him. I didn’t want to go to the corner. “Please, Sir,” I muttered.
“Now! Remember this is a punishment for bad behaviour. You are meant to dislike it.”
“Yes Sir.”
“Waddle there. I want those huge knickers to remain around your knees.”
More tears prickled in the corners of my eyes. I wasn’t ready for this humiliation, but I did not dare disagree.
So, I waddled ungainly to the corner. My skirt slipped down, brushing my behind and I winced at the touch.
I reached the corner and Sir lifted my skirt back up, tucking the hem into my waistband so my glowing bottom was perfectly exposed.
“Use these ten minutes to reflect on your punishment and how this will focus your behaviour in the future.”
I let the tears slide down my face as I stood there. The punishment had been severe, and I felt meek, submissive, obedient, keen to please my Sir.
Eventually the ten minutes was up. Sir came over and carefully pulled up my knickers. Their first touch flamed the agony, but then the pressure started to almost dull the pain to a throbbing ache.
Sir lead me over to a large armchair. He sat down and carefully encouraged me onto his lap. He held me close and let me finish crying. He patted my back and stroked my hair. He let me dissolve into his reassurance.
When he sensed I was ready he started to talk. “Well done today. You accepted being punished for your misdemeanours and were obedient with your thanks yous. Good girl.”
Despite the pain I still felt, I thrilled at his praise.
“The rest of the day is your own. I suggest you take a little time to rest and recuperate or come and see me if you need further reassurance.”
He kissed the top of my head.
“So far this week, I am hoping you have learnt the importance of being subservient to your Master and only stimulating yourself when permission is given. You are expected to stick perfectly to these rules until our next session tomorrow.”
Another kiss on my head followed.
“If so, then tomorrow will be far more pleasurable. While today has been about the importance of ‘Thank you Sir’, tomorrow will focus on ‘Yes please Sir’, which I am sure you will enjoy much more.”
I smiled. “Thank you, Sir,” I added playfully.
He chuckled. “Good girl. Now run along and recover yourself fully ready for tomorrow’s pleasures.”