candy bars carefully in my left hand and wrapped the fingers of my right hand around that still blessedly frigid DC can, wishing fervently I could drain it in one mighty gulp. I couldn’t imagine being averse to the comfort I knew I had my hands full of at the moment. Some less than charitable thoughts about Chandler’s intellect surfaced in my mind in relation to the whole aversion therapy concept. His plan was only making me want the very things he was trying to convince me I shouldn’t want, more than anything in the world.
He interrupted my musing by cupping his hand under my elbow and moving me toward the corner. I wanted to kick off the panties that were keeping me from walking with my usual authoritative stride and were contributing to the image that I was somehow less than I had been only moments before. I didn’t dare rid myself of their ankle-binding power, however, so I sort of shuffled along beside him. I never realized the distance from our bed to that corner before. It stretched to miles before we reached it, and then I entered the space alone. So completely alone. I felt cold — almost everywhere.
“Keep your eyes on the exact spot where the two walls meet and listen very carefully to me. You’re going to become very familiar with what looks like a pretty dull landscape before this weekend is over, because you’re going to be spending a lot of time here. You’re going to think about exactly what I tell you to think about, and you’d better entertain some deep thoughts and try to remember them. That’s going to be important afterwards.
“I want the Hersheys and the DC gone while you’re standing here. Every chocolate morsel. Every last Coke drop. When I think it’s time, I’ll tell you, and you’ll bring the empty can back to the bed and put it down next to the wrappers on a little tray I’ll have all ready for you there. Then you’re going to bend over my lap and put your head and chest down on the bed. I want your trash right in front of your nose. I want it to be all you can see, because I want you to remember that’s what got you over my lap to begin with.
“I’m warning you right now, little girl, what’s going to happen to your bottom will not be any fun at all. It may take a while. It may get noisy and messy. But you’d better try to remember every bit of it. Because when it’s over, you’re going to write down exactly what it was like, and if you miss anything, we might have to repeat the experience. If I were you, I’d pay special attention to thinking about the connection between how you’re feeling now when you’re wanting that candy and drink so bad, and the way you’re going to feel about it when your bottom starts to seem like it’s on fire. And trust me, that’s exactly how it’s going to feel.
“I can guarantee you’re not going to want to sit down to write your essay or eat your lunch, but you’re going to do it anyway. You’re going to sit all afternoon, right up until the time you need to get ready to come back to the corner with two more candy bars and another ice cold can. But when you’re staring at the walls again, you’ll most likely be thinking about a totally new kind of experience. I’m betting you’ve never had your bottom switched before, have you?”
My heart started to pound even faster, if that was possible, and the space where the walls intersected — that space I’d already been staring at for an eternity — sort of blurred.
Of course I hadn’t been switched before. I’d never been really spanked before. Not in the I-mean-business way I knew was all Chandler had in mind for the foreseeable future.
“Would you like to cut and strip a few switches yourself, or do you want me to do that for you before you come back here?” he asked, as though he was inquiring whether I would prefer to fold the towels in the dryer on my own or have him assume that cheery little chore.
I opened my mouth to answer him with a cutting remark, but
He interrupted my musing by cupping his hand under my elbow and moving me toward the corner. I wanted to kick off the panties that were keeping me from walking with my usual authoritative stride and were contributing to the image that I was somehow less than I had been only moments before. I didn’t dare rid myself of their ankle-binding power, however, so I sort of shuffled along beside him. I never realized the distance from our bed to that corner before. It stretched to miles before we reached it, and then I entered the space alone. So completely alone. I felt cold — almost everywhere.
“Keep your eyes on the exact spot where the two walls meet and listen very carefully to me. You’re going to become very familiar with what looks like a pretty dull landscape before this weekend is over, because you’re going to be spending a lot of time here. You’re going to think about exactly what I tell you to think about, and you’d better entertain some deep thoughts and try to remember them. That’s going to be important afterwards.
“I want the Hersheys and the DC gone while you’re standing here. Every chocolate morsel. Every last Coke drop. When I think it’s time, I’ll tell you, and you’ll bring the empty can back to the bed and put it down next to the wrappers on a little tray I’ll have all ready for you there. Then you’re going to bend over my lap and put your head and chest down on the bed. I want your trash right in front of your nose. I want it to be all you can see, because I want you to remember that’s what got you over my lap to begin with.
“I’m warning you right now, little girl, what’s going to happen to your bottom will not be any fun at all. It may take a while. It may get noisy and messy. But you’d better try to remember every bit of it. Because when it’s over, you’re going to write down exactly what it was like, and if you miss anything, we might have to repeat the experience. If I were you, I’d pay special attention to thinking about the connection between how you’re feeling now when you’re wanting that candy and drink so bad, and the way you’re going to feel about it when your bottom starts to seem like it’s on fire. And trust me, that’s exactly how it’s going to feel.
“I can guarantee you’re not going to want to sit down to write your essay or eat your lunch, but you’re going to do it anyway. You’re going to sit all afternoon, right up until the time you need to get ready to come back to the corner with two more candy bars and another ice cold can. But when you’re staring at the walls again, you’ll most likely be thinking about a totally new kind of experience. I’m betting you’ve never had your bottom switched before, have you?”
My heart started to pound even faster, if that was possible, and the space where the walls intersected — that space I’d already been staring at for an eternity — sort of blurred.
Of course I hadn’t been switched before. I’d never been really spanked before. Not in the I-mean-business way I knew was all Chandler had in mind for the foreseeable future.
“Would you like to cut and strip a few switches yourself, or do you want me to do that for you before you come back here?” he asked, as though he was inquiring whether I would prefer to fold the towels in the dryer on my own or have him assume that cheery little chore.
I opened my mouth to answer him with a cutting remark, but
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