Covert Cravings by Maggie Carpenter Page B

He would have ample opportunity to warm her bottom for their mutual enjoyment.  This was different.  This was serious.  She was a very naughty girl, and naughty girls get punished.
    He leaned forward and smoothed the back of the hairbrush against her bottom.
    “Are you ready?” he asked.
    “Yes, sir,” she squeaked. 
    “You have been a very, very, bad girl.  You lied, then lied some more, and it took action on my part to finally have you own up.  Now you’re going to be dealt with.  And, Emily, just to be clear, I’m very happy to be doing this.  As far as I’m concerned you’ve needed a good spanking for some time.  Blog or no blog this was inevitable.”
    “ Ooooh, sir,” she whimpered, knowing he was absolutely right.
    When he started he wasn’t quite sure exactly how he intended to spank her, but the question was quickly answered.  The hairbrush seemed to make its own decisions as it slapped across her rump.  There was no target area.  Her entire backside felt the sting of the wood as it smacked down.  She was yelping and ouching but her cries meant nothing to him, except that the paddling was having the desired effect.  She was being soundly spanked and her reactions simply confirmed the fact.  He watched with satisfaction as her skin turned a bright hot pink.  Several minutes passed until he paused and ran his hand across her cheeks.  They were burning hot. He was sure her bottom was stinging significantly.
    “Well, Emily, what do you have to say for yourself?”
    “Ooooh, sir.  I’m so dreadfully sorry.  My bottom is burning.  I know I deserve it, thank you.  I’m so sorry.  It hurts, though.  I mean really.”
    “That is the point,” he remarked.  “Have you learned your lesson?”
    “Oh yes.  Yes,” she cried.
    He didn’t know why but her voice was telling him she needed more.
    “I think you will rest for a minute or two, and then I shall spank you some more.  I’m not sure you’ve had enough.  Do you think you’ve had enough?”
    “ Oooh, sir,” she wailed.  “I – uh – ohhhh…”
    “I believe that means you don’t.  Is that correct?”
    “Oooh, yes, sir.  It’s correct.”
    “Good girl for telling the truth.  I agree.  I think you need more.  Catch your breath.”
    He sat back and thought about it and looked down at the hairbrush.  Standing up he walked to the dresser and opened the drawer.
    Oh no, what’s he getting.  He’s getting something else.  Yikes…
    She heard him walking back and held her breath.  She could sense something... something she was not going to like.
    “Alright, Emily.  I’ve made a decision.  You were right.  You have not been sufficiently punished.  What you did was shameful.  It’s one thing to be messy, not clean up, take off work – all those things – those things are worthy of the hairbrush.  But lying… deceiving me.  No.  The hairbrush was a warm up.  I’m going to give you three strokes with the crop.  I’m very, very serious now, Emily.  It’s going to hurt like hell but I believe it’s exactly what you need.  It’s certainly the discipline I feel you deserve. Do you understand?”
    Emily felt it.  She felt his energy.  His resolve.  And she knew he spoke the truth.
    “Yes, sir.  I do,” she whimpered.
    “Right.  Are you ready?”
    “Oooh, yes, sir.” 
    Scott placed the length of the crop just above the center of her bottom.  He tapped it lightly three times, then lifted it up and flicked it back down.
    “AAARRGGHH!” she cried, and tried to wriggle but it was impossible.  The ropes were tied well and she was firmly secured. 
    He waited a moment until she had composed herself, then placed the crop two inches below the first stroke, right in the center of her cheeks. Tapping it three times, same as before, he lifted it up and flicked it against her skin.  She wailed again, moving her head up and down. 
    He waited, silent, until she settled, then moved the crop two