Computer Curfew Spanking
Claire got herself a computer curfew the other day so she could get her work under control. Then she promptly and knowingly ignored it, leading to predictable results:
Probably those cracks I made last night about him being a lazy dom when baseball was on didn’t help any. [Oh, I’m sure they helped a lot, actually. — Ed.] He ordered me off the chair and over the desk, yanked my panties down, glanced around for a suitable implement, and settled on some flimsy nylon strap to a camera case. Seeing as though that got little more than a smirk out of me, he soon switched to the heavier power cords – quite a different reaction there. Hopping from one foot to the other and yelling, to be precise. I learned they make an intricate pattern on your hindquarters, like a flogger would, though I’ve never experienced a flogger myself. The burn is intense, both hot and cold, deep and enduring. It’s been several hours now and it’s still burning. Without thinking, my hand continues to fly back there for comfort but does not soothe the ongoing sting. In my limited experience so far, there has only been one implement to exceed the pain of camera/computer cords, and that was a (now-retired) antique riding crop: simply unbearable.
