Reluctantly, i started down the stairs holding the oval wooden hairbrush that i already had a love/hate relationship with. The pink charmeuse slip was tight and short and rode up as i slowly descended the stairs. At the bottom, i tugged it down and took several deep, shaky breaths trying to calm myself. i felt so foolish dressed like this, but also oddly calm; it was as if i had been tranquilized. i had accepted my fate as J's submissive servant and it was a huge relief to me that i didn't have to maintain the standard macho male mask for Her. i could give myself freely.
She was waiting for me, hands on hips, at the far end of the lounge and she looked incredible. Tall, statuesque, and commanding in Her conservative business suit with knee-length skirt and black high-heeled pumps (such a symbol of feminine authority to me). i shuffled across the room to Her, acutely embarrassed. Wordlessly, She pointed to the floor at Her feet and i knelt, handing Her the hairbrush. i couldn't look Her in the face so i bent and placed a kiss on the toes of Her gleaming pumps. She told me to look at Her, and i did meekly. Her face was flushed (with triumph?) and a small smile played across Her lips. She brushed my hair back from my face and praised me for having the courage to submit to Her so completely. i blushed with pleasure. It hadn't occurred to me that submitting took bravery, but of course it did, especially in a macho society like Australia.
i spent the next half-hour learning to walk in a 'less ape-like fashion'. Up and down the line formed by the edge of the carpet, small steps, placing one foot in front of the other, so 'lady-like'. She waited at one end, correcting me with the brush after each trip, until finally She was satisfied. i carefully walked to the kitchen to cook Her dinner, oddly proud of myself, and sat at Her feet as She ate, waiting. i remembered Her comment about not tolerating disobedience and i was sure She hadn't forgotten.
Sure enough, after i had cleared up the dishes, J summoned me to the lounge. She was sitting stern and straight in one of the dining room chairs She had placed in the middle of the room. She tapped the brush on Her knee and curtly ordered me over to Her side. As usual, i felt weak and watery. My mouth went dry and i felt a little sick. She grasped my ear and pulled me across Her knee until my toes were barely touching the floor, my bottom stuck up high and vulnerable. She rubbed the back of the brush on my slip-covered bottom as She praised me for my submissive behaviour. i was shaking, i knew this praise wasn't going to save me from a very painful spanking. i was right.
The praise stopped and the thrashing began, interspersed with scolding. She paused to pull my slip up, exposing my lacy panties. The brush smacked into my taut panties over and over again until i was sure my bottom was pinker than my panties. i kicked and squirmed until She warned me that the spanking would start over again unless i 'took it like a big girl'. i learned later that She had been a prefect at the private school She had attended and had often enjoyed administering discipline to younger girls.
Finally my panties were pulled down to the tops of my stockings, and my bare bottom spanked until i was sobbing and pleading. Satisfied, She put down the brush and finished me off slowly with Her surprisingly hard hand. As painful as this was, i loved the intimacy- the feel of Her warm hand on my humbled bare bottom, thrust up so invitingly, the feel of my swelling cock rubbing against Her warm skirted thigh through the silky luxury of my panties.
By the time She put me in the corner, the front of my panties were bulging. i knelt there contentedly with the back of my panties pulled down and my slip tucked into my garter belt, my reddened bottom on display.
She was waiting for me, hands on hips, at the far end of the lounge and she looked incredible. Tall, statuesque, and commanding in Her conservative business suit with knee-length skirt and black high-heeled pumps (such a symbol of feminine authority to me). i shuffled across the room to Her, acutely embarrassed. Wordlessly, She pointed to the floor at Her feet and i knelt, handing Her the hairbrush. i couldn't look Her in the face so i bent and placed a kiss on the toes of Her gleaming pumps. She told me to look at Her, and i did meekly. Her face was flushed (with triumph?) and a small smile played across Her lips. She brushed my hair back from my face and praised me for having the courage to submit to Her so completely. i blushed with pleasure. It hadn't occurred to me that submitting took bravery, but of course it did, especially in a macho society like Australia.
i spent the next half-hour learning to walk in a 'less ape-like fashion'. Up and down the line formed by the edge of the carpet, small steps, placing one foot in front of the other, so 'lady-like'. She waited at one end, correcting me with the brush after each trip, until finally She was satisfied. i carefully walked to the kitchen to cook Her dinner, oddly proud of myself, and sat at Her feet as She ate, waiting. i remembered Her comment about not tolerating disobedience and i was sure She hadn't forgotten.
Sure enough, after i had cleared up the dishes, J summoned me to the lounge. She was sitting stern and straight in one of the dining room chairs She had placed in the middle of the room. She tapped the brush on Her knee and curtly ordered me over to Her side. As usual, i felt weak and watery. My mouth went dry and i felt a little sick. She grasped my ear and pulled me across Her knee until my toes were barely touching the floor, my bottom stuck up high and vulnerable. She rubbed the back of the brush on my slip-covered bottom as She praised me for my submissive behaviour. i was shaking, i knew this praise wasn't going to save me from a very painful spanking. i was right.
The praise stopped and the thrashing began, interspersed with scolding. She paused to pull my slip up, exposing my lacy panties. The brush smacked into my taut panties over and over again until i was sure my bottom was pinker than my panties. i kicked and squirmed until She warned me that the spanking would start over again unless i 'took it like a big girl'. i learned later that She had been a prefect at the private school She had attended and had often enjoyed administering discipline to younger girls.
Finally my panties were pulled down to the tops of my stockings, and my bare bottom spanked until i was sobbing and pleading. Satisfied, She put down the brush and finished me off slowly with Her surprisingly hard hand. As painful as this was, i loved the intimacy- the feel of Her warm hand on my humbled bare bottom, thrust up so invitingly, the feel of my swelling cock rubbing against Her warm skirted thigh through the silky luxury of my panties.
By the time She put me in the corner, the front of my panties were bulging. i knelt there contentedly with the back of my panties pulled down and my slip tucked into my garter belt, my reddened bottom on display.
As mine are after reading such wonderful prose
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