“Good girl,” he said, and it was obvious he was really pleased. “Come. Over the arm of the chair please, yes, like that.”

She was familiar with this position, draped over the arm of his chair, ass up. He stood at her side. Pulled the ottoman over so the instruments – the wooden spoon, the punishment paddle, the crop, the leather strap, and the hairbrush were all close at hand. He took up the wooden spoon. “Your choices first,” he said.

He rubbed her ass with one hand. There was no point in thinking about a warm-up or not, she was already deeply aroused and halfway into sub space. He adjusted her position a bit so her sit spot was easily accessible. She felt the spoon tap her lightly and then there was a moments pause before it landed on the left cheek.

She bit her lip to keep from crying out. She had decided to accept the punishment quietly, but he whacked her on the other cheek quickly, and she knew she would not be silent long. Then a pause, allowing the pain to settle and spread. He alternated cheeks, being sure each blow landed next to the last one. His careful strokes left her with three red circles on each cheek, like a three leaf clover. He smiled. She was so beautiful like this.

The next two landed on top of the original three, overlapping and she cried out with each one. When she had 5 bright red circles on each cheek, he paused to admire his work. “Beautiful,” he said.

Setting the spoon down, he took up the punishment paddle. Stroked her upper thighs. The paddle would land on both thighs at once, which made it even more effective than the spoon, which covered a small area with lots of impact.

Without warning, the first blow was struck, right below the marks from the spoon. The second one hit its intended mark, right above the circles from the spoon. The third was below them again, but overlapping the first mark on her thighs, which more than doubled the intensity. She whimpered.

He paused after the first three, listening to her breathing, which came in short gasps. “Calm, baby,” he said. “You have seven more of these to go. Breathe slowly. Push your ass up a bit, show me you want this. I know how much you want to please me, and you are doing it. You can take this for me.”

She was able to calm her breath, and pushed her ass up, offering herself obediently.

He slowed down for the next three, allowing her to catch her breath between the blows. Then, “push your ass up a bit,” he said. “Four more with the paddle.” He was covering about an 8 inch wide area of her body – sit spot and upper thighs. He landed the last four in sets of two, each blow landing on top of others – sit spot, then thighs, then pause, sit spot, thighs, then pause.

She cried out and pleaded with him, not asking him to stop, just repeating, “Please, please, Sir.”

But as the last of the twenty landed, he saw her body relax. Her ass raised a bit as she pressed her torso deeper into the chair. She felt herself open, fully accepting her punishment.

He decided to alternate between the crop and the leather strap for the last 10, maintaining the ‘two strokes and then pause’ rhythm. He made the crop whistle through the air, not landing it. Recognizing the sound, she began to cry, softly. But she maintained her position, there was no sign of resistance.

He spread her legs and caressed the inside of her thighs, first with the crop and then with strap. She whimpered, but didn’t pull away.

“Baby,” he said. “Are you with me?”

“Yes, Sir,” she said, sniffing a bit.

“The first 20,” he said, “Were for resisting me when I wanted your ass. These next ten are for resisting punishment for that resistance. Are you ready?”

Her voice was shaky, but clear. “Yes, Sir, I am ready, please.”

The swish of the crop , it landed across her sit spot, then quickly , swish, across her upper thighs. Despite herself, she screamed, but she didn’t move, didn’t try to protect herself.

He paused, waited for her to settle. Then it was a whoosh and the strap landed, twice in rapid succession, sit spot then thighs. Again, she cried out, the shift from the the thin, intense pain of the crop, and then the broader impact of the strap, was hard to absorb.

He let her rest a moment before he switched to the crop.

By the time he was finished, her sit spot and thighs were a bright red with welts, and she was sobbing quietly. “What do you say?”he asked her.

Again, her voice was clear, “Thank you, Sir.”

He opened her thighs and slid his hand between her legs,stroking her hot, wet pussy. Slid two fingers deep inside her. She quit crying and began to squirm, moving his fingers deeper into her. He laughed and withdrew the fingers.

“Come here,” he said, helping her up. He settled into the chair and pulled her into his lap. Kissed her gently, made her drink some water. “Such a good girl ,” he said. He had her open her thighs, knees bent so he had an unencumbered view of her, parting the outer lips of her pussy to access the inner lips and her hard bud of pleasure. With his other hand, he began toying with her nipples and stroking her gently.

She felt the pain receding and began to feel only the pleasure he was allowing her. He moved to her mouth, stroked her lips with one finger, slipped the tip of the finger between her lips.

“Sir,” she said, shyly, “May I tell you what I’d like to do.”

“You may,” he said, pinching her nipples again lightly.

“May I,” and she was embarrassed, but she forced the words out, asked the way he liked to hear, “May I please your cock with my mouth, please, Sir?” And she waited for his response.