Scenes of Domestic Discipline: Book 2 by Susan Thomas

Author:Susan Thomas [Thomas, Susan]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: LSF Publications
Published: 2015-06-19T04:00:00+00:00

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While they were upstairs making the bed creak, I was downstairs thinking. I began to feel that Amy getting spanked and caned alone was really unfair: I had made no attempt to stop her and really I should have done so. Yes, she was the leader in mischief but I was her willing partner. We had always shared everything, but although I had shared the adventure and the guilt, I had not shared her punishment. I wondered if I had the courage to ask to be punished as well. There was also a 'teeny-weeny' bit of curiosity to know what it was like.

By the time they had finished and were on their way down, I had made up my mind what to do. I was going to be very calm, logical and reasoned. I would explain to Peter that I knew that Amy should have been stopped but that I also wanted to go out in the boat so I kept quiet. I would go on to explain that we had always been friends and shared everything so therefore I should be punished as well. All very well in theory. What happened was that I launched into an incoherent gabble and only Peter's calm questioning brought out what I was trying to say.

Peter accepted my request in a matter of fact sort of way, agreed that I did deserve a "tanned bottom" as he put it, and was happy to oblige. Amy's reaction was odd: she went all quiet and thoughtful before suddenly agreeing with enthusiasm. It was decided that I should be spanked in the sitting room, and Peter sat down on the sofa while I carried out Amy's instruction and pulled down my jeans and knickers. Getting across Peter's lap with my bottom bared ranks as one of the more embarrassing moments of my life, but then came the spanking. Peter asked me if I was ready, and when I nodded he began.

Never having been spanked before I had no idea what to expect, and although the first spanks stung they weren't too bad. "What was Amy fussing about?" I thought. Soon, however, the sting of each spank joined the earlier ones and became quite unbearable. I began to jerk and wriggle and cry. My bottom just got hotter and stingier with every smack. After a while I made a complete idiot of myself by adding pleas to my cries. "Please Peter, not so hard. You're really hurting me. No please. Oh, Peter, no". It was no relief when he finally pushed me off his lap because I knew there was still the cane to go.

I stood holding my bottom very carefully and was still crying when Peter asked Amy for the cane. It was quite thin and whippy with a very small crooked handle. I realised that it was just like the ones in my local party shop. I had gone in there to buy streamers and in the corner was a bucket with about a dozen canes.

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