An English Rose writes about getting spanked for “mithering”, which she helpfully defines for Americans as “pestering, fussing, moaning.” As we join the scene she’s being encouraged to get in touch with her “sub whatever” tendencies:
“Don’t kick your legs, for goodness sake keep still!”
(A short period of leg pinning followed a hefty swat to my thighs and gosh don’t you just hate that).
This last was cheerfully uttered as he applied a few swats with that damn wooden paddle and I squealed and squiggled like a stuck pig, making all sorts of promises that both of us know are very unlikely to be kept, at least not for longer than five minutes anyway.
I am sure the whole thing didn’t take long as he started hard and finished fast.
As soon as he starts rubbing I know he is done and when he remarked on the red butterfly appearing on my ass I knew things were okay and more pleasurable things were soon to follow
“Maybe now you will learn to be a bit more subservient!”
“Say what! That’s the wrong word. It’s submissive and I don’t think I am much good at that either.”
“Subservient – submissive – it’s all the same to me. Are you still arguing here? Because I can have another go, you know?”
“No, no I am fine, done, sub whatever you like.” See, I can manage it, fleetingly at least.