This Is An Ass Whipping
I had to grin at the excellent lecturing introduced by this punishment spanking description from Bonnie-Jo:
“Come here and get over those pillows.” I lay down, embarrassed again at the picture I made, bottom raised high in the air, completely helpless. He stood to my right, and I squinted up at him as he warned, “You are to stay still this time. No squirming around, back and forth. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir.” I said as I gasped at the reality, the potential for pain that lay ahead. In an attempt to obey well, I placed my hands above my head, held onto the pillow above me, burying my face in it, willing my body to relax, to stay still no matter what. Please be lenient, my mind begged him. But part of it was begging for the opposite—hurt me, please, I want to prove that I’m sorry.
I did a fairly good job at staying still. Some squirming, but mainly up or down, not twisting and turning and attempting to dodge the blows like I knew I had done in the corner. His right hand was light and warm on my lower back. It was merely there to center me, not to hold me there, and I knew it. I had to hold myself still, all on my own.
He was lecturing away as he let the strap fall. I gasped and whimpered, and when asked a question gave the appropriate “Yes” and “No” and “Yes, Sir.”
“Is this serious, Bonnie-jo?”
“Yes, Sir!” I whimpered.
The strap came down on my lower thigh, and I let out a soft howl. “No.” He replied. “No, this is not serious.”
“Yes, it is.” I argued, red-faced, squinting up at him. “This is serious!” If he thinks I’m not taking this seriously, I’m in so much trouble, I thought.
“No, Bonnie-jo.” He stopped the strap. I breathed slower. Confused. “This is an ass-whipping. This is not serious.” He began the strokes again, speaking between and around the sounds of the strapping. “What is serious is what you did…”