A Later Punishment

Kathryn races home from work, as she always has on the evenings he stays at her place, his car is in the drive, letting herself in she is greeted by the smell of fresh coffee from her kitchen, she enters to the sight of him preparing a meal for the two of them. "Are you wet? And have you smoked today?" He asks.

"Obviously I have, I think maybe eight, the vape has arrived, but I don't know how to use it without it choking me."

"So eight cigarettes, and how many times did you message me to tell me you were going to smoke?"

"None sir." She replies pensively.

"Eight cigarettes and zero messages?" He asks.

"Yes sir." Her nervousness growing with his patient words.

"Undress to your bra please."

She sighs; her initial joy at seeing him replaced by shame and fear, "Yes sir." She murmurs and begins to undress right there in the kitchen. She strips off everything, folds it, and then stands in front of him in just her bra, "I'm sorry I just forget."

"Now, why didn't you answer when I asked if you were wet my sweet?"

"Huh?" She responds, taken aback.

" Or was that the 'Obviously'? " He pushes two fingers into her as he asks.

She laughs in response, "Obviously!" then "Mmmmm" as she feels the intrusion.

He squeezes the sensitive point insider her hard, pulls upwards firmly, she moans softly as she rises onto the balls of her feet. "Yes sir. You can feel I was, am."

He withdraws his fingers and then move them to her mouth as was his habit, forcing her to fully acknowledge her own response, and as was her own she sucks them, savouring the intimacy, the decadence and her own taste.

"Am what?"

She pauses in tasting herself, "Yes sir. I am wet sir."

"Good girl." he half smiles, "Kneel please." And without a thought to not obeying she kneels in front of him.

He opens his fly, presents his erection to her.

She takes it into her warm soft mouth, he must have been thinking about her return she realises, as she finds, to her pleasure that its head carries is wet with the sweet taste of precum, her head bobs back and forth, her hand rises to pull his foreskin back and she sweeps the precum delightedly with her tongue. Her hand wrapped around his shaft and she focuses on the tiny lips at the tip of his glans. She purses her around her teeth, applying pressure.

Even as he relishes her mouth he says, "Do you accept that you should be punished for smoking without telling me?"

She responds with a nod as she continues to suck him, his hips are rocking now.

"Fetch the clear bath brush." His words cut through the moment and her rising heat.

Her heart beats quickly, "Yes sir." She feels fearful as she rises and disappears, returning almost trembling moments later. She holds the feared instrument out to him her head lowered.

"Bend over the table please young lady."

She pouts, "Yes sir." And walks to the living room table, laying herself across it as she has so many times before, spreading her feet widely without having to be asked to do so.

He uses the brush as its makers intended brushing her bum with soft long strokes, he continues until her cheeks are lightly rosy and she is purring in response rocking slightly in her turn against the table, taking pleasure in the pressure of the oak on her Mons and breasts, he allows her to do so, there is time enough. He brushes the backs and insides of her thighs. "How many cigarettes?"

"Nine sir," She replied, he isn't certain if she's remembered another, or is making certain she has said enough, or, indeed, if she wishes to increase the severity of her punishment.

"So that is four for each cheek and one..."

Her face pales, "Yes sir." She responded, but did not answer his implicit question.

"Where should the one..." He lets his voice trail off.

"Anywhere but there sir!" She blurts.

"Where should the one go?" He repeats, his voice stern and steady, two fingers of one hand entering her sopping entrance as he asks.

She whimpered, paused, "I don't like it there sir."

"Do you like disobeying me? And do you like being addicted to cigarettes?" His touches her intimately as he asks, keeping her distracted.

"Yes and no sir," She giggles the words, and then wonders silently to herself, "Am I just nervous, or am I trying to provoke him into really laying into me?"

He withdraws his fingers from her wetness, places the brush on the table beside her it makes a light clicking sound as he places it, and his hand slaps her bum hard, once on each cheek, the "crack" in the quiet room loud in her ears. "So where should the one go?"

"Don't make me ask for it sir!"

He repeats the spanks with the same force, but the effect is more painful as each impacts on the red mark from its predecessor. "I am a patient man." He says, pushing his fingers back into her.

"Please sir!"

The fingers depart again, and again he spanks each cheek, the force echoing deep inside her, her fingers clench and her internal voice says, "Oh Christ!" Though she is unsure whether from the pain or her arousal as his pushes his wet digits back into her. "My cunt. Sir, on my cunt." She whispers defeated.

"Good girl." He is gratified by the pulses of pressure on his fingers as she says the words, and surprised by her choice of the word "cunt", he's never used the term to her, or of her, though he may have used it in her presence, it sounded, interesting, on her lips as she lay there awaiting her fate.

He twists his had around with his fingers still inside her and his thumb pushes under her hood, it strokes her clit, and her body softens, tension released, she rests her face down on the table having said it, scared, expectant, a little shocked at what she had said.

She feels his fingers depart, and he slides the handle of the brush into her open cunt, he thinks the word to himself as it is the one she has just used.

She moans in response realises what it is insider her, whinges quietly, wonders as to her body's response, how it freely allows his access to her, his use of her, how it rewards her with pleasure even as she feels humiliation.

After sliding it backwards and forwards for a moment, while making sure to apply slight pressure to her g spot he removes it and swiftly applies a medium swat to her left bum cheek with the back of the brush.

She gasps sharply at the blow, her fingers grip the far side of the table, but her legs remain wide, her bum available for more.

The next blow is to her right cheek, "Count please."

She winces, "Two sir." As his fingers caress her reddened skin, and she moves fractionally foot to foot and back against his ministering hand, relishing his gentle touch.

"The back!" She realised how he is using the brush in this delicious interlude, "It's bobbley!"

"Yes my sweet."

Her response is a low humming sound which leads him to wonder if he has strayed into the space of a fantasy of hers. "Mmmm!" As the sound escapes her lips he strikes her left cheek a little harder.

"Owwwww! Three sir."

As she expects, given the pattern of this punishment the next swat is also a little harder and to her right cheek. "Four Sir." She says quietly, and his hand returns to caressing her, she moans softly again as his fingers skirt the soreness and drift down and back up her inner thighs.

He strikes her left cheek more firmly still. Directly over the previous blows.

"Owww" She shouts and he can tell from her voice that this one really did hurt her. "Five sir." Strain now evident in her voice; he swiftly follows with an identical swat to her right cheek. "Six sir." She responds, her eyes now firmly clamped shut.

He resumes his caresses once more helping her through her ordeal, this time taking more time, his thumb sinks into her two fingers slide either side of her clitoris and swirl the pad of his thumb gripping insider her pubic bone as he so often did, as he knew to do as no other lover's had done before, and as always she melted to the sensation from inside and outside.

Her fingers clench the table as tightly as they had for the blows and she lies open, moaning. "Thank you sir." She murmurs.

He removes his hand, the movement making her purr once more, and she braces herself then whinges barely audibly into the table top in the moment before an even more forceful blow lands on her left cheek.

"Seven. Sir." Louder than she realised, her voice almost a wail, then he delivers the final strike of this part of her punishment.

She cries out in pain, "Eight..." A pause, a sob, "Sir!"

Swiftly his hand returns with caresses, she hears the brush being placed beside her once more, feels him step behind her, he strokes the insides of her thighs, the full length of her sides from knees to breasts, gently holds her shoulders, slides his cock into her. She squeaks in response to the unexpected intrusion as her body welcomes him, he slides easily back and forth for a few moments rests briefly deep inside her, relishing her body, feeling the head of her battered rear even through his trousers, then withdraws, she sighs as he departs.

"Lie on your back on the table please young lady."

"Sir?" She looks round, eyes scared.

He waits, and again she surrenders to his patience and to something inside herself. She rubs her bottom gingerly, stands, turns and lifts herself to sit on the table, wincing as her painful bum makes contact with the hard wooden surface. After a pause she moves back, and lies down.

"Lift your legs and spread them as widely as you are able please."

She lifts legs in response, habitual obedience and arousal overcoming her fear; they sway as she spreads them.

"Hold your knees please." Again she obeys, she closes her eyes against what is about to happen, as his fingers caress her nakedness, he takes his time, slips the straps of her bra from her shoulders, enjoys her breasts, the softness of her thighs, the folds of her vulva, his fingers eventually find their way unerringly back to the centre of her pleasure and he take her to the edge.

She responds to his touch, moaning, striving to hold still, fearful of what is still to come. As she nears her peak he holds her there, his fingers slowing, the pressure he applies easing. His thumb once again slowly enters her, claiming her with the ease he always does, she is even more vulnerable to him in this position than usual and his access even smoother as its pad pressed again at the familiar spot.

She fights her body as it rushes towards orgasm, "Please sir!"

"Ask permission before you cum."

"May I cum sir." She opens her eyes, they are filled with pleading, but his face is static, rapt with attention, he keeps her on the edge.

His fingertips circle. "Please sir!" her voice cracking with frustration. "Please may I cum!"

But his fingers still move in inexorably slow circles; a tear forms in her eye, "Sir! I can't hold out for much longer, I'll lose it!"

His hand withdraws and an instant later the back of the brush slaps hard into her open vulva, the sounds and impact shock her senses, he says, "cum" as she screams and his hand returns to her tortured flesh, fingers circling in earnest. Her back arches, the skin of her legs turns white where her fingers grip, she bucks as waves of pleasure crash over those of pain radiating from her core and her world pauses.

Moments or minutes later her she, aftershocks still passing through her she says in a squeak "Thank you. Thank you sir." As the fading echoes of her orgasm roll on.

His fingers continue to work her expertly, ""I would advise selecting a harsh instrument for your discipline tonight". She is shocked that she cums at his words, his free hand slips under her neck as he kisses her deeply before saying "Good girl." As this second explosion passes, she cries out as he holds her.

Eventually his caresses stop, and reality returns, she sits up, winces and then turns to face him and put her weight on her hip. She recalls his words "...a harsh instrument for her discipline tonight." This wasn't all of it? "Why are you being so harsh sir? I've been better behaved than ever."

"Really?" He asks, his voice sceptical, "You know you have just been corrected for the fifth repeat of not messaging me for cigarettes all day."

He looks into her eyes, "As for tonight, I may choose to just make you cum while I stroke you with the toy, or I may choose to use it to leave marks on your body that will last a week as a reminder to behave. You should know that you have been in poor habits and that so long as you wish to be corrected for them by me I will do so."

She looked down, "I know," then glanced up at him, pleading in her eyes, "But I am trying!"

"You are my sweet, and part of trying is trusting." He continues; his fingers find the softness of the skin under her chin and gently lift her face towards him, he kisses her, "And another is submitting."

"Yes sir." She replies, her eyes lowering once more, as warmth fills her and a tear brims in her eye.