Hot Crossed Buns: Spanking short stories of erotic, play and discipline. Susan Kohler
“It’s time for you to pay for your speeding tickets,” he said sternly, “and for not telling me about them in the first place. Did you think you could hide them from me? Did you think I wouldn’t notice? Get in the corner.”
Linda sat up, instantly awake, and instantly dreading what she knew was coming. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, knowing it wouldn’t help her at all. She was shaking as she stood up and walked into the corner. She hated corner time, but she hated what came after even more.
He went to their collection of toys and began to search through, considering and rejecting some, pulling others out. He had a paddle, a strap and the cane laid out before he told her to come over to the bed.
He was sitting on the edge of the bed, and he sternly ordered her to stand in front of him, with her eyes down. In spite of that she noticed he had pulled out the most stinging paddle and strap, not the ones that caused the most deep tissue pain. She puzzled at that even as he began the lecture. And it was some lecture.
“Linda, I love you,” he began, “and my biggest fear is losing you. I don’t know how I’d cope, how I‘d even go on if anything happened to you. That’s why the only time I really get mad is when you take unnecessary risks. Risks like drinking and driving, or driving after having a few drinks, or in bad weather. You can call me anytime and we’ll work out a way for you to get home safely.”
“You can call a cab or find a safe place to stay overnight. Whatever it takes. I do the same thing because I never want to leave you.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said simply, her head hung low.
“I know you are,” he told her quietly, “but speeding is something you can avoid. Just slow down. There is no place you have to be so bad that you can’t take time to get there safely. I lost two family members and one friend to traffic accidents. Do you think I want to lose you too?”
“No, Fred.”
“You were going 20 miles over the speed limit, or more, when you got one ticket. How fast were you going when you got the other?”
“It was written as 45 in a 30 MPH zone,” she admitted softly, “but it was more like 50.”
“So you need to learn a lesson, a very serious lesson,” he said firmly. “You need to learn to follow the posted speed limits. Do you agree?”
“Yes, Fred.”
“And you need to learn this lesson twice over, agreed?”
“Yes, Fred.”
“There’s something more,” he glared at her, “I hate it when you lie to me. It’s the only other thing I get mad about.”
“I didn… ” she began.
“By not telling me and accepting your punishment, that’s just what you did.” There was no compromise in his voice. None in his eyes. “You will pay for those lies as well as the two tickets. I’m afraid it will take more than I can give you in one night. You will be punished tonight and again tomorrow night. Tonight we’ll use the stinging implements, and tomorrow we’ll use the ones that go deeper.”
“Fred.” It sounded plaintive. She paused but knew she had something she needed to say, “Fred, I have to tell you something. I got a parking ticket today.”
“So what?” he said lightly. “Parking badly may be stupid, but it’s not going to put you in physical danger, is it?”
“No.”
“Then let’s get back to the matter at hand.” He was stern.
“Fred, I… ”
“Not one word, unless you want to go for three nights.” She kept her mouth firmly shut.
“And you will get the cane both nights, two dozen cuts,” he added.
Her mouth shot open but he silenced her with a stern glance.
“Over my knees,” he said without emotion.
Once she was in position, he began to spank her without mercy, without warm-up, fast and hard. Each slap of his hand causing a loud CLAP as it landed. Each slap caused her to moan and gasp.
It was a long spanking, a very long spanking. There was no mercy, no easy spanks, no slowing down. Finally he finished.
“Lay face down on the bed,” he commanded.
She put herself in position. He paddled her; again it was very hard and very fast. The paddle made a sharp CRACK, and her gasps became sharp little yelps of pain. She sounded strangely like a puppy that was accidentally stepped on. Finally, after an unbearable amount of time he stopped.
Just long enough to pick up the leather. WHAP! Although she was used to spankings, she had very seldom been punished, really punished. The forty or fifty with the strap were almost unbearable.
Finally, he gave the order for her to put the paddle away and bring the cane. She did, and then he ordered her to bend over the back of a chair and grab the seat. Normally she got half as many with the cane as with any other implement, but he sternly announced two dozen, and ordered her to ask for them, thank him for each one and keep count.
“Please give me the first,” she said softly. Slash!
“Ah! One, thank you. May I have another?” she managed. Slash!
“Two, Ouch! Thank you. May I have another?” Her voice was even softer.
“Speak up clearly,” he ordered her, “or the stroke won’t count.” And so it went, it was the most severe punishment she’d ever received and there was no hint of enjoyment or arousal behind the pain. It was just pain. Pure pain. The full two dozen with the cane almost killed her. At least it felt that way to her.
“Stand in the corner!” he ordered sharply.
Two corner times, two! She thought. I’ll kill him. What she did not see, with her nose in the corner, was how badly his hands were shaking, and how pale his face was. It was a long time before he composed himself and told her she could come back to bed.
For the first time after any spanking, fun or discipline, there was no comforting hugs, no aftercare and no lotion tenderly rubbed on the injured area. Also for the first time, there was no cuddling, no tender lovemaking after the spanking.
As she drifted off to sleep she had one question for him. “Fred, why did you wait until after we made love to punish me?”
“I wanted to get rid of any pheromones before you got the spanking,” he said coldly. “I wanted to make sure you felt no trace of pleasure from your punishment.”
“It worked,” she said, still sounding weepy, “believe me it worked.”
“And I knew you’d be very sore, and badly marked after,” he added.
“When have soreness and marks ever stopped me from making love?” she sighed, and before morning, they did in fact make love again. Still, she dreaded the night to come. The anticipation was almost worse than the punishment.
The next day she stayed home from work. Not only was she sore, but also she dreaded the coming night.
She woke up feeling queasy and unsettled. The feeling passed but it jogged something in her memory.
That night as a grim Fred came it the door, she had a surprise for him. She had cooked a fantastic dinner for him.
“Time to go upstairs,” he sounded resigned.
“I think you might want to change your plans for tonight,” she grinned at him impishly.
“Have you come up with a flimsy excuse to get out of your punishment?” he sounded skeptical.
“A way out, yes,” she smiled at him. “Flimsy? No. I just found another reason to be extra careful.”
She