Chocolate Talks (Part 3)

[goodgirl7]

He makes me wait for a long time. By the time I hear him move again, I have counted all the stripes in the wallpaper in my corner (162), decided that the couch needs upholstering and resigned myself to the fact that I am about to receive a major spanking.

As I hear the springs of his easy chair creak, my stomach lurches with fear. I hear him enter the study, but remain in the corner, not looking around. “Come here, young lady.”, he says sternly. I gratefully lower my stiff arms as I take my hands off my head and turn around. He sits on the straight-backed chair, the hairbrush he had placed onto it earlier lies in reach on the small coffee table next to him. Trying not to fall over the jeans and panties that are still pooled around my ankles, I anxiously shuffle forward until I stand in front of him.

He looks up at me. “I am very disappointed in you.”, he says, and it shows in the look he gives me. I feel my face going red. “The doctor told you to watch your blood sugar level. You asked me to help you do this, and then I find out that you ignore the rules I have set for you. And worse still, you lied to me about it.” He contemplates me for a second while I feel my blush deepen. “Am I right in thinking that today wasn’t the first time you lied about this to me?” Oh my goodness, I can’t tell him, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…

I nod, contemplating my toes.

“I thought so.”, he says. I feel tears coming into my eyes. I try to blink them away, as he continues. “I love you, baby, and that’s why I can’t let this one go. This is also why I can’t let you risk your health.” His voice catches and I feel the first silly tear sliding down my cheek. He clears his throat, and I wipe my face with my sleeve.

His voice is back to normal now. “You will receive two spankings. The first one will be for breaking the rules, and the second one for lying to me.”

“I’m sorry”, I whisper, finally managing to look him in the eyes.

“Not nearly as sorry as you will be.”, he says, as he positions me on his right side and gently pulls me over his lap. I grab hold of the chair legs to stabilize myself as I feel the first sharp slaps of his hand on my bottom. They are not the gentle warm-up kind that I usually receive, no – I can tell he means business. Stinging slap after stinging slap rains down on my bottom and in no time I start wriggling and crossing my legs in an attempt to control the pain. Soon I hear the soft thud as my jeans become dislodged by my kicking feet and drop to the floor.

As I watch the minutes go by on the clock on the wall, I try not to make a sound as the fire in my bottom gets worse and worse. He is now spanking my sit spot – one of my most sensitive spanking areas – and I dig my front teeth into my lower lip to stop myself making a sound, trying to remind myself that it could be so much worse than a hand spanking as the first of the two spankings.

When he finally stops spanking I let out a long breath. I hadn’t even noticed holding my breath, but the sting was unbelievable.

“I think this will do as a warm-up.”, he says. My head flies up in disbelief. “Warm-up?” I gasp. “I thought…”

“You thought you’d get away with just a hand spanking for breaking the rules over and over?” he says, and I can hear incredulity in his voice. Hm. It sounds really bad when he says it like that.

I crane my neck to look at him best I can without falling off his lap. His face is very stern. “Apparently you haven’t understood the seriousness of what you have done, young lady. But you will, trust me, you will.” I sense rather than see him picking up the dreaded hairbrush from the coffee table. “But… but I thought, the hairbrush… for lying…” The fear of the brush renders me quite incoherent.

He leans closer. “The brush is for repeatedly breaking the rules.”, he repeats coolly. “You will wish for the brush back when we discuss the lying.” I feel my stomach drop, but before I have time for anything else, I feel the brush land on my bottom. I gasp loudly as the pain registers in my brain. A second crack and I stop worrying about anything else as my back arches. I so wanted to take my spanking well for him, I so wanted him to see that I understood why I was being punished, accepted it – but just a few spanks on, all dignity is forgotten and I feel like a naughty little girl across Daddy’s knee. That’s what the hairbrush does for you.

My bottom is on fire, my legs are kicking and I am wriggling so hard that I almost fall off his lap.

CRACK.

“Oh please…”

CRACK.

“Please no more!”

CRACK.

“Please – I promise I won’t do it again!”

CRACK.

“PLEASE STOP! I promise I’ll be good, I PROMISE!”

He now concentrates on the sit spot and the top of my thighs. I give up on the coherent begging and simply whimper.

CRACK.

CRACK.

CRACK.

I feel my panties sailing off my kicking legs, but the brush keeps falling. My breath comes in short gasps and I continue begging in a voice that becomes more and more hysterical.

At last he stops. Trying to catch my breath I hear him put the brush back down on the coffee table.

“You may get up.”, he says, gently supporting me as I scramble off his lap. My hands fly to my bottom, rubbing furiously, but he grasps my wrists. “What do you think you are doing? You are not allowed to rub.”, he says sternly. “I worked very hard to get this sting there, I don’t want you to rub it away.”

I open my mouth to complain but, catching sight of the hairbrush innocently lying on the coffee table, I decide against it. I really don’t want to antagonize him just now, so I meekly follow him as he leads me back to the corner. “Stay there, and no rubbing if you know what’s good for you.”, he warns me. I nod eagerly – the hairbrush is still lying there, after all.

[spoiledbrat18]

More please

[sgtjoe]

Good work!