Coleen's Punishment

[jamessc]

“…and she said to me, ‘You must really be a masochist!’” Colleen paused a bit before continuing, “I do have a high pain tolerance, you know.”

This was not the first unusual thing I’d heard Colleen say. She had once asked me how she could lose some weight. I said, jokingly, “I could make you get your exercise by chasing you with a paddle.” She answered softly, “I might not run.”

But this latest comment made me pull into a parking lot, turn off the engine, and turn to her. “All right, Colleen, out with it.”

I already knew, or was pretty sure I knew, how her answer was going to go. She had already told me about her past, and some of the things she’d done. As a result, she was filled with guilt, and her self-esteem was really low.

A tear made its way down her cheek, and she bowed her head in silence.

“Okay, then,” I said. “I think I know exactly what it is. You want me to spank you, don’t you?” At the word “spank,” she lifted her head, looked me straight in the eye, and nodded.

I took her hand in mine. “I thought so,” I said softly. “I think this is something you’ve been wanting for a very long time, isn’t it?” She nodded again, then dropped her head and let out a sob. I knew I couldn’t let her go on this way; it was tearing her apart.

“Look at me, Colleen,” I told her.

She raised her head again, her lip quivering. I touched her cheek gently.

“Then I will.” At those words, her eyes widened, and a faint hint of a smile played at the corner of her mouth. “But there are some things you need to understand, young lady.” She looked at me steadily, but with a questioning air.

“The first thing is that I will be in complete charge. I will determine everything, and you will do exactly what I tell you.” She nodded and whispered, “Yes.”

I cleared my throat and continued. “The second thing is that once we start, we go to the end. There will be no changing your mind or backing out.” Colleen swallowed hard and said, “I agree.”

“The last thing is that I will have the right to spank you in the future when and as I see fit. By taking it the first time, you agree to take it always.” Her mouth dropped for a second, and then she lowered her head again and nodded. “I accept your conditions, Jim.”

I knew I needed two things: an implement, and a place. I pulled into a drugstore parking lot and went back to the hair-care aisle, where I found a lightweight but wide hairbrush. I smacked it lightly into my palm a couple of times. Perfect. I went back to the car where Colleen was waiting. I pulled the brush out of the bag and showed it to her, then placed it on the seat between us. I saw her fingering the back of it as I put the car in gear and drove out.

I drove out into the country, out to the century-old house where my mother and my two uncles had grown up, and where both my grandmother and my aunt had run a little one-chair beauty shop. I went across the road to my aunt’s house and borrowed the shop keys, telling her I had to check on something in there. I went back across the road and opened Colleen’s door; she handed me the hairbrush before getting out. I opened the door and stepped in first, pulling the cord on the light switch.

There was the sink and the chair, the hairdryer chair, and a vinyl covered love seat. I sat down in the middle of the love seat and beckoned to Colleen. She stepped over, slowly and hesitantly. Pointing to her slacks, I said, “Take them down.” “Take them down?” she whispered, blushing. “Yes, Colleen, take them down. I’m in charge of this, remember?”

Slowly, she pulled her pants down and stepped out of them, standing there, obviously embarrassed, in her panties and blouse. I took her arm in my left hand and helped her arrange herself over my knee. Then I picked up the brush.

“Why am I doing this, Colleen?”

She swallowed hard before replying. “Because of those terrible things I did, Jim.”

“That’s right, Colleen, because of those things you did. You deserve this spanking, don’t you?”

“Y-yes, yes I do, Jim.”

“I agree. So I want you to ask me for it.”

She turned her head to look up at me. “Please, Jim, spank me. I’ve done bad things, and I deserve to have you spank me, long and hard. Please spank me now.”

I hooked my thumb under the waistband of her panties. “Raise your hips, Colleen.”

She pushed herself up a little off my lap, and I slid her panties down her hips and down to her knees. I placed the hairbrush on her right buttock. “This is going to hurt, Colleen. It’s going to hurt a lot. I intend for it to hurt, so you’ll remember that you’ve been punished for the things you did. You can beg, plead, say you’re sorry, or whatever else you want, but you’re getting spanked until I think you’ve had enough, young lady. Understand?”

“Y-y-yes,” she whispered hoarsely.

“All right then.”

I raised the hairbrush high and brought it down hard on her right buttock. An angry red spot erupted immediately, and she sucked in her breath loudly.

“You told me you had high pain tolerance. I’m going to put that to the test, Colleen.”

With that, I began raining a flurry of spanks onto her reddening cheeks. Colleen’s grunts and air-sucking noises began to give way to small cries and then to ever louder ones. Soon she was crying like a baby and wriggling on my lap. I held her down tighter and continued to spank, working my way down to her “sit spots” and then to her upper thighs. Her cries increased in volume as her bottom turned deeper shades of red under the relentless onslaught. I could almost feel the heat radiating from her blistered cheeks.

She could no longer beg or plead; her cries were practically incoherent. I could see that she would have some bruises that would remind her of this spanking for the next few days every time she tried to sit down. I put the brush down, reached for a bottle of aloe gel, and began rubbing it gently into the hot, sore skin. She gasped at my touch, then composed herself with an effort.

“There, now, Colleen. It’s over.”

She looked at me and nodded through eyes full of tears. “Th-thank you, Jim.”

I helped her to her feet, and she clutched me tightly, still bawling. I held her, patted her back, and made shushing sounds, as I imagined her father might have done.

In a few minutes, she got enough self-control back to look up at me and smile. “I do mean it, Jim. Thanks for doing that for me. No one else has cared enough to do it.”

I took her face in my hands and looked her in the eye. “I do care, Colleen. Enough to have done it just then, and enough to do it again any time I think you need it—or any time you do.”

She looked up at me again, then smiled, nodded, and lowered her head. I took her outside and opened the door for her. Instead of sitting in the seat, she knelt in the floorboard and put her elbows on the seat. She looked up at me, and I nodded. “I think you’re right there, Colleen.” I returned the keys to my aunt, glad she hadn’t heard anything, and returned to the car. I placed the brush in the glove compartment and drove Colleen home.

Two weeks later, I took Colleen to a Chinese restaurant for dinner. After we finished, I opened her door for her, and then went around to my side. The hairbrush was lying on the seat between us. Our eyes met, and no more needed to be said.

[wazoolie]

mutters one word....perfect

[sortofbehaving1]

I'm jealous of her.

[uncledon_uk]

lovely story ;o)