I suspect I may have mentioned that I am a mischievous little slut, I don’t deny it. As such, Master C almost always has some reason for needing to punish me.
Sometimes He will use His hand, sometimes a rolled up newspaper, for more serious transgressions He will use the paddle and, for the very worst offences, He uses His belt.
The reason for my most recent punishment spanking: spending a very fun, sexy Saturday afternoon with “The Girl”.
As usual, on returning home, I was forced to describe my latest indiscretion in full and vivid detail. I described how we explored each other’s bodies with our lips, fingers and tongues. I told Him all about the toys we used on ourselves and each other. I described in intense minute detail every climax that “The Girl” inflicted on my oh so willing body.
Sessions such as this will usually earn me at least six of the best from Master C’s belt, but on this occasion, He was feeling lenient and deemed the blow-job I gave Him to be a suitable act of contrition, so the punishment was downgraded to a paddling.
The paddle is only marginally less painful than the belt but it inflicts itself over a considerably bigger area.
Suffice to say, I was, as usual, required to assume the position, bent over the desk, while Master C dished out my punishment with resounding thwacks against my poor bottom, having me count out each stroke of the paddle.
Have I learned my lesson? Probably not. And, being totally honest, even if I had, I’d still find countless other ways to misbehave that would require the application of Master C’s stern discipline.