Chastising Arnold: a domestic femdom novella by W A Whyte

Author:W A Whyte [Whyte, W A]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: LSF Publications
Published: 2017-09-08T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

It took Arnold's bottom several days to recover fully from the rather harsh, although short, spanking it had received. Each morning he'd examine his buttocks in the full-length bedroom mirror. Each morning the colour had faded somewhat and the delicious tingling sensation lessened accordingly. He'd enjoyed Annabelle's paddle, once it had been administered, once it was over. He'd sit down on a hard chair just to sample the burning feeling, then he'd get up to feel it again. It was a mad circle of pain and pleasure he was in, and he loved it.

Annabelle, too, had enjoyed using the paddle on Arnold's little butt. His lovely, cute little butt. She rarely thought of him without also thinking of his cute bottom. The paddle had made spanking it so easy. She wondered why she'd never bought one before. She had spanked enough men - and a few women - but they'd all been passing by. Not one of the men had grabbed her attention the way Arnie had, and not one of them had really stayed long enough to make it worth her while. Sure, Arnie could be annoying, especially in relation to the ogling (always top of her pet-hates though she hadn't seen him do it for a while), his giving up work, and half the shopping he'd bought had been wrong (that was excusable this time) - but in every other way he was her perfect partner: malleable (most important), funny, good looking, polite and so very sexually lively! Super.

For those first few days after the paddling, they got along just fine. Arnold, of course, was temporarily excused duties because of his sore hands, and Annabelle took him to the supermarket and showed where everything was, so there'd be no excuses when he resumed his duties.

That day came soon enough. Annabelle unwrapped Arnold's hands and pronounced them good as new. She put up a new to-do list.

"That'll keep you busy over the next four days while I'm in London."

He examined it mournfully. It had the cleaning and the shopping, of course, and she'd even marked three hours a day when he could study the cookery books, and then the last day was gardening. He hated gardening. He thought all lawns should be replaced by grass-carpets, or even concreted over and painted green, and all shrubs and flowers should be plastic. He was happy with trees, they didn't need looking after. He hadn't informed Annabelle of his aversion to all things horticultural. She might get upset, especially as she'd particularly noted down the mowing of the lawn, the pruning of the roses and the watering of all the plants and flowers.

Annabelle was spending today with her broker, tomorrow at the children's sports club and the following two days with the advertising agency which had recently been given the go-ahead to film a TV and cinema commercial by the multi-national sports firm. Annabelle's print adverts had been judged a sufficient success for her to star in the film and she'd

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