02-07-2020, 05:58 AM
Chapter 3
I had no idea where Alan had gone, or when he would be back. I showered and dressed, then set about cleaning the flat. After a while I heard the front door open and heard him return. I was in my bedroom tidying up. He walked in without knocking, as though he had every right to do so, sat down on the end of my bed and watched me as I moved about the room.
"Come and stand in front of me", he said. I walked over to him.
"Lift your skirt up". I lifted my skirt almost to the tops of my thighs.
"Higher, bitch, get it up." I lifted the skirt high above my waist. He looked at me and laughed. "What the fuck are those?" he said, pointing at my poly cotton, leopard skin print knickers.
"They're knickers, what else?" I said.
"Don't get smart with me bitch" he warned, "They're awful, get rid of them, and never let me see you wearing anything so fucking cheap again, right?".
I nodded. He reached out and took hold of a couple of the stray hairs which were escaping around the leg band. He pulled them, making me squeal, "Owww !"
"I thought I told you to get rid of this, why is it still here?"
I started to whine again, like a small child, "Please, Alan, I haven't had time. Please don't make me do that, I really don't want to, I'd feel so uncomfortable. Please, Alan, give me a break, please! There's a lot for me to get used to here. Just give me a bit of time, I'll do anything else you say, just not that, please!".
He smiled back at me. For a moment I thought he was going to agree, then he said, "I told you the rule. You do as you are told, when you are told. If you hesitate, or question me, your arse will suffer for it. I told you this morning to get that horrible beaver shaved, and you've done nothing about it. You've had plenty of time; there's no excuse. I can see I need to teach you a lesson. Get over my knee, NOW".
My heart was beating fast, my brain seemed to have difficulty reacting to my situation, I couldn't speak. As if in a trance I moved to the side of him and leaned over onto his lap. "I'm going to show you what happens when you disobey, you little slut". And with that, I felt my skirt being lifted. Higher and higher, until I could feel cool air on the top of my thighs. I felt him tucking the hem of my skirt into my waistband, then felt his fingers grasp the waist band of my knickers and pull them down, over my bottom, past my hips, and down to my knees. I blushed furiously, my skin burning, as he ran his hand over my bottom, stroked the inside of my thighs.
One of his arms was now holding me firmly around my waist. "Not a bad arse, Alison. I wonder how it will look after it has been smacked?" I groaned, shame flooding through me. "I'm going to give you ten this time, and you're going to count them" he said. "If you don't call the number, it doesn't count, understand?". I was crying now. "Yes" I sobbed.
And with that he brought his hand down smartly on my right buttock. I had never been spanked before, not even as a child, and the pain caused me to jerk up violently. His hand came down again, this time on my left, again causing me to buck violently. "You're not counting" Alan, said, clearly enjoying himself. The next time his hand fell, I was just able to call out "One!"
By the time I reached "five", my bottom felt like it was on fire. In between smacks I was begging him to stop, but he carried on relentlessly. Finally, I managed to count ten smacks, but I must have received about twenty in all, because I kept forgetting to count out loud in my misery and discomfort.
Assuming that the 'lesson' was over, I tried to get up, but he still held me firmly, "Stay still, until I tell you to move", he said. I lay across his lap, his hand stroking my blazing cheeks. I felt his hand move inside my thighs, move up and start to stroke my pussy lips. A jolt of pleasure ran though me, followed my a wave of horror – I was wet !
I had no idea where Alan had gone, or when he would be back. I showered and dressed, then set about cleaning the flat. After a while I heard the front door open and heard him return. I was in my bedroom tidying up. He walked in without knocking, as though he had every right to do so, sat down on the end of my bed and watched me as I moved about the room.
"Come and stand in front of me", he said. I walked over to him.
"Lift your skirt up". I lifted my skirt almost to the tops of my thighs.
"Higher, bitch, get it up." I lifted the skirt high above my waist. He looked at me and laughed. "What the fuck are those?" he said, pointing at my poly cotton, leopard skin print knickers.
"They're knickers, what else?" I said.
"Don't get smart with me bitch" he warned, "They're awful, get rid of them, and never let me see you wearing anything so fucking cheap again, right?".
I nodded. He reached out and took hold of a couple of the stray hairs which were escaping around the leg band. He pulled them, making me squeal, "Owww !"
"I thought I told you to get rid of this, why is it still here?"
I started to whine again, like a small child, "Please, Alan, I haven't had time. Please don't make me do that, I really don't want to, I'd feel so uncomfortable. Please, Alan, give me a break, please! There's a lot for me to get used to here. Just give me a bit of time, I'll do anything else you say, just not that, please!".
He smiled back at me. For a moment I thought he was going to agree, then he said, "I told you the rule. You do as you are told, when you are told. If you hesitate, or question me, your arse will suffer for it. I told you this morning to get that horrible beaver shaved, and you've done nothing about it. You've had plenty of time; there's no excuse. I can see I need to teach you a lesson. Get over my knee, NOW".
My heart was beating fast, my brain seemed to have difficulty reacting to my situation, I couldn't speak. As if in a trance I moved to the side of him and leaned over onto his lap. "I'm going to show you what happens when you disobey, you little slut". And with that, I felt my skirt being lifted. Higher and higher, until I could feel cool air on the top of my thighs. I felt him tucking the hem of my skirt into my waistband, then felt his fingers grasp the waist band of my knickers and pull them down, over my bottom, past my hips, and down to my knees. I blushed furiously, my skin burning, as he ran his hand over my bottom, stroked the inside of my thighs.
One of his arms was now holding me firmly around my waist. "Not a bad arse, Alison. I wonder how it will look after it has been smacked?" I groaned, shame flooding through me. "I'm going to give you ten this time, and you're going to count them" he said. "If you don't call the number, it doesn't count, understand?". I was crying now. "Yes" I sobbed.
And with that he brought his hand down smartly on my right buttock. I had never been spanked before, not even as a child, and the pain caused me to jerk up violently. His hand came down again, this time on my left, again causing me to buck violently. "You're not counting" Alan, said, clearly enjoying himself. The next time his hand fell, I was just able to call out "One!"
By the time I reached "five", my bottom felt like it was on fire. In between smacks I was begging him to stop, but he carried on relentlessly. Finally, I managed to count ten smacks, but I must have received about twenty in all, because I kept forgetting to count out loud in my misery and discomfort.
Assuming that the 'lesson' was over, I tried to get up, but he still held me firmly, "Stay still, until I tell you to move", he said. I lay across his lap, his hand stroking my blazing cheeks. I felt his hand move inside my thighs, move up and start to stroke my pussy lips. A jolt of pleasure ran though me, followed my a wave of horror – I was wet !
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