A Hard Spanking For Emma
In Emma’s Surrender by Amelia Smarts, it is Emma’s misfortune (or so she believes in the current moment) to have fallen into the care and custody of a stern sheriff who is very concerned to keep her safe in his home from some enemies that her father made. The sheriff tested her obedience, she failed the test, and now in his view she’s earned a severe spanking:
She rushed to return his clothes to how he kept them and ran out of his room before he caught her snooping. She plastered an innocent expression on her face and walked casually down the hall.
As soon as she saw him standing in the room with his hands on his hips and eyes flashing with anger, her heart skipped a beat and she slowed her steps. His eyes were trained on her as she made reluctant steps in his direction.
She tried to lighten the dark mood that had suddenly filled the house upon his entrance. “You’re home early, Nathan. Did you miss me?” she asked sweetly.
He didn’t acknowledge her comment. His face was a thunderous cloud, and Emma could tell a storm was brewing behind his lightning eyes. She stopped an arm’s length away from him, and he closed the distance by moving forward. “Hold out your hand, palm up,” he ordered.
Emma obeyed slowly. He dropped a penny in her hand. She looked down at it and then up at him questioningly.
“That’s how much I paid the boy to knock on the door.”
Understanding hit Emma in one fell whoosh, and her spirits sank low as her anxiety grew. Nathan dropped another penny in her hand. “I told him I’d give him an extra penny if he could get you to open it. Do you see a problem here? Two pennies bought entrance to my house and to you.”
She stared at the coins in her hand. “That’s not fair. You, you tricked me,” she stammered. “I was worried about the boy—he seemed distressed.”
He caught her chin in his hand and lifted it so he could meet her eyes. “Think if someone with ill intent had paid that boy to do the same thing, and then stood by and waited for you to open the door. Was I unclear when I said to open the door for no one?”
“No,” she whimpered, “but it goes against my nature to ignore a child.” She shook her chin free from his grasp.
“Foolish woman, you are blind to the dangers around you! This is why I make the rules and insist you follow them,” he bellowed. “I knew I was right to believe you wouldn’t mind me!”
“I’m not foolish! It’s not foolish to care about someone’s well-being.” She looked up at him pleadingly, begging him to understand, but no compassion or mercy could be found in his expression, only anger.
“It’s not foolish when it’s justified, such as my concern for your well-being. You’ll vow never to disobey me again by the time I get through with you. It’s clear I’ve been too lenient, but that’s about to change.”
Real fear coursed through her veins. She stared at his giant hand splayed on his hip and was reminded of the brief but very hard spanking she suffered in the corner for failing to respond respectfully. She shuddered to think how harshly he would punish her for disobeying him.
Nathan grabbed her wrist and towed her to the small bedroom. He sat on the bed and drew her to stand between his knees. She kept her eyes lowered but could feel his gaze on her face. It felt like his eyes were rays of sunlight, burning her flesh. She thought of every interaction she’d had with Nathan and tried to comfort herself. Despite being a hard man, he’d never done anything to truly harm her. The opposite was true. He had a soft spot a mile wide for her, and she prayed his anger wouldn’t cause him to veer so far away he forgot about it.
“I’m not used to people disobeying me, Emma,” he said, more gently than she would have predicted. “As marshal, it’s my duty to protect people, and when I order something for someone’s protection, I expect strict adherence to my order.”
She nodded, feeling miserable.
“When it comes to you, honey, I’m particularly interested in safety, not just because it’s my duty, but because I care about you.”
“If you care about me, show me mercy and don’t punish me, Nathan.”
“Once again you misunderstand the meaning of mercy and how much justice has to do with it. One is necessary for the other.” He took hold of her arm in a firm grip and hauled her forward over his left leg.
She knew it was useless to resist, so she allowed him to position her and squirmed to find a comfortable spot when he lifted her legs so they spanned over his thighs. He rested his hand on her bottom, stilling her. She wouldn’t have thought such a simple action would have such a devastating effect on her, but it did. Fear and an added arousal caused all of her muscles to clench in anticipation.
Seemingly oblivious to her confused physical state, Nathan continued to lecture her. “I know you’re innocent and don’t wish harm on anyone. I know you haven’t benefited from your father’s blood money. I also know that some people don’t care. You’re the daughter of their worst enemy. I thought I explained this. I thought you understood.”
“I do understand, Nathan.”
“I’m not convinced. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have disobeyed me. Since my words aren’t working, I’m prepared to let my hand do the talking.”
She drew a sharp breath as the hand in question caught the hem of her dress and petticoat and pulled them up toward her waist. He looped a finger in her drawers and tugged them down to her knees.
“Oh, Nathan,” she cried. “You’re so determined to see me humiliated that you would punish me bare?” It felt so much worse being bared for a real punishment, as opposed to when he bent her over the sofa to perform an act of mutual gratification.
“Humiliating you isn’t my goal. My goal is to inflict a thorough, painful spanking. Any humiliation you feel will be very temporary. Trust me when I say you will soon be more concerned with the pain of your punishment than your hurt pride.”
She shuddered. Cool air fanned her bare buttocks even as her face flamed. His hand returned to her bottom, and he rubbed each clenching cheek gently in circles. The motion felt heavenly, but it caused her anxiety to increase, knowing that the hand that was currently gentle on her sensitive skin would soon be anything but.
“Have you ever suffered a real spanking?”
“Only by you,” she said mournfully.
“Those could hardly be called spankings. I feel I must warn you, this will be a very stern chastisement. If the stakes weren’t so high, I might go easier on you, but I want you to be reminded every time you sit down today of the best possible result of you disobeying me. Having a blistered seat is preferable to being dead. Yeah?”
She was becoming more terrified with every passing second. He continued to stroke her, his hand now firmly rubbing over where her bottom and thighs met, low and inches from her sex. His hand was so large that when it lowered to her thighs, she felt the tips of his fingers curve around the edge of one leg as the ball of his hand massaged her other leg.
“You’re a good girl,” he said, and gave her a mild swat. It was loud, despite only imparting a slight sting, and she jumped with surprise. He swatted her other cheek with the same force. “But you’re also naïve and reckless, and you don’t know your place.” He spanked her again. “You’re a soft-hearted woman in a man’s harsh world, and you’re gonna end up dead if you don’t take my words seriously.”
After that, his hand turned to steel. It left her bottom briefly and returned with a vengeance, catching the low swell of her right buttock. He performed the same motion on her left cheek. The spanking commenced, and she realized he wasn’t exaggerating about how stern a chastisement it would be. She didn’t know that sitting would ever be an option again. He didn’t hesitate between strokes and applied a healthy amount of force into each one.
She remained valiantly stoic until about the twentieth smack, when she began to feel frantic. Every swat was hard, deliberate, and now layered on top of already well-spanked cheeks, deepening the sting. She yelped when he lowered his hand to her thighs and he proceeded to apply the same punishment.
“Please stop!” she wailed, unable to remain quiet any longer. She kicked her legs up and down as he smacked them thoroughly.
Her words did nothing to slow the punishment, and he continued as though she hadn’t said a thing. Desperate for respite, if only a moment, she reached back her hand to block the blows, but he caught her wrist and, without even slowing, pinned the wandering hand to her hip.
She shrieked and squirmed. “I’m sorry,” she said, and suffered two more hard swats on her bottom before she could gasp another breath. “I’ll never disobey you again.”
“Mm hmm, that’s what we’re making sure of,” he said, the first acknowledgment he’d given her since starting the spanking. Still he continued on.
She sobbed, crying loudly in full, open-mouthed wails. She couldn’t recall anything ever hurting so much, and it didn’t seem like it would ever end.
“Go ahead and cry and kick all you like,” he told her, his hand continuing to clap over her punished flesh. “I know it hurts. You’re being punished, and you’re going to be very sorry after this.”
“I already am sorry. I promise!”
Ten very hard swats later, he stopped. She let out a whimper of relief as his hand of steel suddenly became light as a feather and traced along her bottom. “Repeat to me the two very simple rules I gave you,” he said, his voice stern.
She hiccupped and stuttered her answer. “N-n-not to open the d-door and not to l-leave.”
“That’s right. Will you be disobeying either of those again?”
“No.” She didn’t hesitate in her answer, knowing it was the only right one.
“Sure about that?”
She sniffled. “Y-yes.”
He helped her to her feet and pointed at the dresser. “There’s a wooden hairbrush in the top drawer. Fetch it for me.”
She stared at him in horror. Surely he wouldn’t be so cruel. Wasn’t he finished? “No!” she cried. “Don’t keep spanking me. I can’t bear anymore.”
He pulled her back over his thighs to deliver five more very hard swats to the tune of her corresponding shrieks. “Obedience is your only option, young lady. Do as I say. Not another word of argument!” He landed a hard spank before he set her on her feet and pointed her in the direction of the dresser once again. He gave her a gentle shove.
Sobbing, she stumbled to the dresser with one hand clasping a place on her bottom that stung like the dickens. All of her bottom burned with such intensity, she didn’t see how she could stand another lick from his hand, let alone from an implement.
She opened the drawer and picked up the heavy oak brush, the flat portion roughly the size of her own hand. Trying not to think about it too much, she hurried back to him. After handing the brush to him without meeting his eyes, she lowered herself back over his knee for the remaining punishment.
He pulled her forward so that the top half of her body rested on the bed and then wrapped his right leg over her trembling thighs. Her scorched bottom was tilted high in the air over his left leg.
“Reach back and give me your hands.”
She did so slowly. He wrapped his giant left hand around both of her wrists and pinned them to the small of her back. She couldn’t move. She sobbed even harder, knowing he was locking her in place for the worst of the punishment.
“I’m going to give you ten swats with the hairbrush,” he told her, “and then your punishment will be over.”
She felt some measure of relief. She knew it would hurt, but at least there was an end in sight to the pain. Unfortunately, nothing could prepare her for the amount of pain she was about to suffer. The first searing swat caused her to shriek. By the third she was begging him to have mercy and to stop the punishment. Ten seemed impossible to bear by the time he connected the unforgiving wood to her seat for the sixth time. He stopped briefly. She was trembling all over, trying desperately to absorb the pain.
“Four more,” he said. “Doesn’t feel good, does it? Hopefully I never have to do this again.”
Before she could respond, he landed the next four swiftly and firmly, and she wailed her agony. Then it was over, and his hand was soothing her burning seat. He released her hands and trapped legs and rubbed her bottom as she hung over his leg limply.
When her crying had died down, he warned, “I know this was painful, but believe me when I say the punishment will be much worse if I catch you disobeying again.”
“You won’t,” she promised. It was a promise she very much intended to keep. She’d never, ever let him catch her again.
“Good.” He patted her bottom a couple of times and helped her to her feet.
She stood in front of him, wiping her eyes and sniffling.
“I know you think I’m a hard case, but I didn’t want to do that to you. I hated punishing you like that.”
“You didn’t have to.” She looked at him and found herself tearing up again. She felt betrayed. “You’re right. I think you’re a harsh man, but you’ve never been especially harsh with me. I never thought you would hurt me like that, Nathan.”
He sighed and reached out to smooth a lock of her hair behind her ear. “I’m trying to protect you and to make you realize how serious the danger to you is. I’m not sure of a better method than a good old-fashioned licking.”
“You could have just talked to me,” she accused, hiccupping.
“I tried that, if you recall, and you still acted foolishly. There’s no room for me to be patient. One more disobedient act like that could get you injured or killed.”
“My father…” She stopped and looked away.
Silence hung in the air for some time, until Nathan said, “Let me guess what you were going to say. You were going to say your father never punished you.”
She nodded and looked down at her feet. “He kept me safe, and he never hurt me.”
He sighed deeply. “C’mere, baby girl.” He opened his arms and she drew closer to him. He wrapped her tight in his arms. “He sent you away to keep you safe. I want you here with me.”
“But I don’t want a man like you,” she said, even as she softened into his warm embrace and enjoyed how he traced his fingers over her back.
“I know that’s what you think.” His voice rumbled against her head where he’d pressed it against his chest. “You think you want an indulgent man who has never lifted his hand. But that’s not what’s good for you. You need someone who can protect you.”
“I’m not yours to protect,” she reminded him.
“Once again we disagree on that. I will continue to care for you in the best way I know how, even if it means having you dislike me.” He gently dislodged her from his chest and trailed his hands from her shoulders to her elbows. “But as we’ve already determined, you don’t dislike me,” he said softly, studying her eyes. “You want to, but you don’t, and in fact the opposite is true.”
Her lower lip quivered as she tried to remain unaffected by his words. “I dislike you right now. You’ve hurt my feelings.”
He smiled slightly. “I’ve hurt your bottom too. But neither permanently. And I can make both feel all better, you know.” He pulled her back to him and kissed her gently. She moaned into the kiss as he wrapped his arms around her and stroked her from the nape of her neck down to her scorched bottom. His hands were everywhere, undressing and caressing her in slow, careful movements…
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