Sophie’s Choice
Tag: punished
Anticipation
3:35pm
Aaliyah had been waiting all day for him to come back. The waiting only made it worse. He knew it. He knew it very well, and she knew it was part of her punishment. Every time her phone pinged with one of his messages was a reminder of what was coming. Since the morning, he had drip-fed her instructions. She knew better than to argue or try to ignore him. He would be back at five, after work. She would be standing at the door, hands behind her back. Her head would be bowed; she wouldn’t look up; she wasn’t to say a word. She would be naked.
3:52pm
She had felt pitifully relieved that he hadn’t had her wait at the window, like that one time. She didn’t know that a neighbour had stolen a passing glance, but the possibility was enough for her to cover her face in shame every time she thought about it. The punishment that day had kept her straight for a month. Her phone pinged. She was to gather a paddle, a hairbrush, a belt, a wooden spoon, and the riding-crop. He would pick one, or two, or none, but it was best to be prepared. She didn’t like the sound of any of them.
4:10pm
But of course, she had slipped. And she knew she deserved what was coming. She had been mad at herself, and she had made it worse by being mad at him for no reason. He was a very supportive boyfriend, but he had no tolerance for her misdirected anger. She liked that about him; he made her better, more measured. Her phone pinged. He would be home in fifty minutes. She looked at the time. He would be home at five, like he had said. He hadn’t needed to tell her again but, just as he wanted, she felt a pang of fear. And guilt. And anticipation.
4:38pm
The flat was spotless —there was no reason to make it harder for herself. She sat on the sofa, twiddling her thumbs, unable to concentrate on anything. It had been on her mind all day. They had had the argument the night before. He never punished her in anger, that was not really him. He had let her know that they would deal with it the next day. He had kissed her in the morning and told her to be ready for her punishment later today. Then, he had simply left, without scolding or berating her. That would come, in a calm and measured tone, to the sound of his hand battering her poor bottom. She shivered. Fear? Desire? The phone pinged again. She was to get the big piece of ginger from the fridge and get it ready. She moaned as she read the message, passing a hand between her thighs.
4:57pm
She folded her clothes up on the bed, biting her lip, and straightened the covers. All the implements were neatly laid out, as was the ginger. She caught a look of herself in the mirror and blushed. She tip-toed to the door and looked up at the big clock hanging off the wall. Were her hands supposed to be over her head? No, behind her back. I think? He wouldn’t be too pleased if she got it wrong, but she couldn’t go and check her phone, for fear he would come in at that exact moment.
5:00pm
She looked down. The door clicked open, then shut. He put something down. His bag, probably. She dared not look up. He lifted her head with a finger under her chin and kissed her softly.
“Let’s take care of you,” he said.
Robyn’s friends
Robyn played with one of her curls wrapped around her index. She cast a quick glace around the shop and hurried towards the exit.
‘Wait! Miss? Miss? Where are you going?’ asked a loud, stern voice.
‘I… I…’ the young girl stammered, blushing hard. She kept walking towards the exit, head down, eyes shut, trying to avoid the unavoidable.
‘Hey! Wait!’ the other woman continued. She was tall, lean. With a few long strides, she caught up with Robyn and grabbed her arm.
‘L-let me go…’ the young girl tried, biting her lip. She looked up at the woman. The woman’s eyes were ice-cold behind her glasses. She was looking at her up and down, frowning.
‘All right, young lady, where is it?’ she asked.
‘Where is what?’ Robyn said, trying to be defiant.
The woman pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and sneered. ‘You know exactly what, young lady.’
‘Let me go! You’re hurting my arm’
‘Where did you stuff the clothes that you took?’
‘I… I…’ Robyn felt tears starting to well up in her eyes, ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…’
‘You… Didn’t mean to grab clothes off the racks and stuff them somewhere?’
‘No, I… It… Hum… It was a dare and…’
‘A dare?’
‘Yes…’ she said, sheepishly, ‘It’s my friends, they…’
‘What friends?’
‘They’re over… there,’ Robyn said, her voice dropping to a whisper as she pointed to an empty space outside the shop, in the mall. She didn’t think that she could blush more than she was already doing, and yet… Defeated, she looked down at her feet and tugged nervously at her skirt with her free hand.
‘Please…’ she started, but the tall woman interrupted her and raised her hand, palm up.
‘The clothes. Now.’
Biting her lips, Robyn lifted her blouse and pulled up the stolen tee-shirt half-tucked in the waistband or her pleated skirt. Without looking up and without a word, she put it in the woman’s waiting hand.
‘A ten-dollar shirt… Well I hope it was worth it. Come with me.’
‘Wh-what? Where? It… It was just a dare, I swear… Please…’
‘Oh, it’s very simple… We’re going to go in the back, and we’re going to wait for the police to arrive.’
‘The police? No, no, no, no, no… Please! I’ll do anything; please!’
The woman rolled her eyes and punched a code into a secure door.
‘Please!’ Robyn insisted. ‘Please! I’ll work for you; I’ll clean your house! I’ll do anything!’ Tears were rolling down her cheeks.
Having closed the door behind them, the woman finally let go of her arm, and Robyn rubbed it in silence. The woman pointed at a chair. She sat down without a word, her head down in her hands, sobbing and sniffling.
The woman picked up a phone from the desk that occupied a corner of the room. She typed a number and let her finger hover above the ‘call’ button. She looked up at Robyn, sobbing in her chair. She rolled her eyes again and sighed before putting the phone down.
‘What’s your name?’ she asked the girl.
‘R… Robyn Miller, ma’am,’ she managed between two sobs. ‘I’m so sorry…’ she added, quietly.
‘Okay, Robyn Miller. You should re-think who your friends are, don’t you agree?’
‘Yes ma’am…’
‘Do you have a lot of friends, Robyn?’
‘Not… Not really…’
‘And you think that doing any idiotic thing they tell you to do is going to make them your friends?’
‘I… I don’t know, ma’am…’
‘I think you know… I think you know that that’s not how friends treat each other.’
‘Yes ma’am…’
Sitting against the desk, the woman crossed her arms.
‘Now, what do you think should happen?’
‘I… I don’t know… I don’t want to go to j-j-jail’ she bawled.
‘Don’t you think you deserve to be punished? You think stealing is okay?’
‘No, no, it’s not, I know! I’m sorry; I’m SO sorry, I swear… I’ve never done… anything like this…’
‘What should we do, then?’
‘I… Well… I… I don’t…’ she broke into more tears.
The woman rubbed the bridge of her nose,
‘Right. Robyn. Have you been spanked before?’
‘Have I been…’
‘Spanked, yes. As a kid?’
Shocked, Robyn looked up.
‘B-b-by my mom… But… But… I was little and…’
‘You agreed that you deserved to be punished, didn’t you? Would you rather I made that call?’
‘No! No, please!’
‘Then you’re going to come over my knees, and I’m going to give you a spanking you’ll remember for a long, long time. Understood?’
The woman’s piercing blue eyes pinned Robyn in place. The young girl swallowed and nodded quietly.
‘I didn’t hear that?’
‘Yes… Ma’am…’ she sniffled.
The woman snapped her fingers.
‘Get up.’
Robyn did as she was told, and the woman took her place in the chair.
‘Take your skirt and blouse off.’
‘Wh-why?’
‘No arguing, young lady! It’s not too late for me to make that call.’
‘No, no! I’ll do whatever you say.’
She unbuttoned her blouse and put it down on the desk, then undid her skirt and let it fall to the floor in a ruffle of fabric. She stood there, in her underwear, blushing in apprehension.
The woman tapped her lap. ‘Come over here.’
Again, she obeyed, finding her place over the woman’s knees. The position immediately brought back memories of her previous punishments at home, and she clenched her round buttocks reflexively.
‘Why are you being punished, Robyn?’
‘Hum, because… Because I—
SMACK! The first slap cut her reply short. Another followed immediately, an another, and another. Within thirty seconds, she was squirming over the woman’s lap, her panties barely softening the harsh blows that rained down on her bottom. Her eyes filled with tears and she let out a little cry every time the woman’s hand slammed down.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
Again and again, the stern woman peppered her soft, young bottom with handfuls of scorn.
‘I’m sorry…’ she managed between the sobs that she couldn’t contain. ‘I’m so sorry… I… Oww!’
The first slap on her thigh surprised her. Soon, they were just another area on fire. She felt pain, she was humiliated, she was ashamed of herself. She was angry. At the woman, at herself, and at her pretend friends who’d gotten her in the position.
The woman kept spanking her, a little pinched, satisfied smile on her face. Truth be told, that young girl on her lap was getting punished for all the others she hadn’t caught, and for every disrespectful client to which she’d dreamt she could do the same. Her round globes were bright red, and they bounced adorably with each and every slap.
After what felt to Robyn like an eternity, she was allowed to get up. She waddled to the corner of the room that the woman pointed to. Hands on her head, she waited and sobbed quietly. She had never felt so much pain. She wondered whether she would ever be able to sit again. Another eternity later, she felt a hand gently laying on her shoulder. She turned around, raising watery eyes up to look at her tormentor.
‘What will you do when you get out of here, Robyn Miller?’
‘I… I will go home and…’
‘Robyn…’
‘I… I will find new friends…’
‘Real friends…
‘I don’t know how…’
‘Well, tell you what. If you come back with a resume, I’ll have a spot for you. You can make a little money, and do things that you like, rather than hanging out with people that, clearly, don’t appreciate you.’
‘Oh! I…’ She was so surprised she didn’t know what to say. That woman was clearly evil incarnate, so why would she…
‘And another thing… If you manage to bring one of these ‘friends’ in the shop, I’ll take them to the back and give them a piece of my mind…’ She winked.
Grace and the Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day
Grace was not having a good day. Not a good day at all.
The hand fell on her pert bottom with a sharp *SMACK!* and she let out a pained moan, biting her lip not to cry out.
“Please…” she begged for the umpteenth time, “Please, Brea… Stop… Pl—”
She screwed her eyes shut as another heavy slap landed on her sore bottom. Again and again the vengeful hand went down, fast, hard, smacking one cheek then the other like a merciless metronome. The piece was allegro, most definitely.
“Brea!” She managed as her tormentor paused to rub her hand and readjust her over her knees.
“What?” the other girl snapped, “I’ve heard all you had to say. It doesn’t change anything.”
“Please… I— OWww! Please! Pl— Oowww! I… I’ve learnt my— Ooowww… Will you please stooOowww…”
Her begging was turning to sobs, and she could feel the tears starting to run down her cheeks.
“Brea! It was just a pho— Ooowww!”
“What? Just a photograph?! You’ve gotta be kidding me…”
“Hum… No…?” she said, hesitantly, “I mean, I didn’t… You know?”
“You didn’t what? Fuck my boyfriend? Well, damn, thank you, that’s very kind of you!”
“That’s not what I…”
“Whatever you meant, I don’t want to hear it. What I can tell you, though, is that after we’re done, he’s going to receive a very surprising pic…”
Exchange student
“Stop!” she yelled, “Stop spanking meeeee!”
He didn’t. In fact, it only made him spank her harder. Left-right, left-right, heavy, punitive slaps. Her small bottom was bouncing and wriggling under his painful attentions, and tears were streaming down her face over her blushing cheeks.
“It’s not… oww!… it’s not fair!”
He said nothing, readjusting her over his lap and resuming the spanking impassively.
“I mean… Ooow! Stop!… It wasn’t that bad…”
He rolled his eyes and pulled her skirt up in a swift, sharp move. He couldn’t help but pause, not because of her outraged cries and pitiful attempts at getting her skirt back down, but rather mesmerised by the two perfect little pink globes he had revealed. She was wearing the smallest pair of panties —hardly any protection at all— and her fretting made her bottom wiggle and bounce in a most alluring manner. He lifted his arm up again.
“Oooooow! How dare you! It was just— Oww!! It was just a little prank!”
He clenched his jaw at the memory, and slapped her tight bottom harder than ever. Just a prank… The nerves on this one…
“Okay… Okay! I’m sorry! It was… OoooOoow!!… just to welcome you… Ow, ow, oOOow! It’s tradition ! Don’t you have traditions like that in Europe?”
“Oh we have many traditions in Europe,” he said with a hint of an accent, “Most of which don’t involve humiliating other people…” he landed a couple more swats and went on:
“But first of all, the swastikas are really offensive,” he said, punctuating each word with a hearty slap, “And second of all, I’m not even German!”
“Oow! But Europe…”
“Is a continent, not a country. Consider this your first lesson, the first of many!”
Diner with his boss
He had warned her once: “Watch your language, Nina.”
She had rolled her eyes and nodded. Yes she would, she was sorry. He’d heard it all before, but he wanted to believe her. He had invited his boss and her husband over, and he wanted her to make a good impression; a promotion was not on the table yet, but he wanted all the chances he could get. So Nina had been told to behave. So far, so good.
His boss was sat on the sofa, enjoying a glass of sparkling wine and enjoying a handful of almonds. Nina had gone to the kitchen to keep an eye on the roast and get another bottle of cava. He poured his boss’ husband a glass of red wine —finishing the bottle— and started talking about rugby. Scotland, he argued, was past due for a comeback and—
“Oh shit!” he heard coming from the kitchen with a loud noise of broken glass.
He blushed and excused himself immediately. He got to the kitchen, where Nina was squatting over the broken glass with a dustpan and a brush.
“What happened?” he asked
“What do you think?” she shrugged, “The fu… I mean, the glass fell, and it broke. It’s what tends to happen when glass falls…”
“Nina…” he warned “Watch your tone…”
She said nothing and pushed the last bits of glass in the pan, then got up to empty it in the bin. She adjusted her tight skirt and looked up at him shyly.
“I’m sorry…”
“It’s just a glass… But…”
She lowered her voice “But I’ll watch my mouth… Sir…”
“Good girl. You know what will happen if you don’t…”
They went back to the living room. and resumed the vacuous small-talk as if nothing had happened. The radio was on, some easy listening station, and a pleasant smell was coming from the kitchen.
He looked at her pouring herself another glass of bubbly and raised an eyebrow. She caught his expression and mouthed a “What?” while opening her eyes wide and shaking her head a little. She put the bottle down and emptied half of her glass in one gulp.
Distracted, he asked the husband to repeat what he’d just said when Nina spilled her glass all over her new, cotly dress.
“Shit, shit shit!” she cried, immediately getting up and patting herself down. His boss was looking at him quizzingly. He got up.
“Come here, sweetheart,” he said, “Go to the bathroom, I’ll get you some clothes…”
She did as she was told and he followed her to their en-suite bedroom after apologizing profusely and making sure his guests had all they needed. He got in and closed the door.
“Nina?” he called, softly.
She came out of the bathroom in a tank-top and her panties. She was blushing and kept her eyes down.
“I… I’m sorry, Sir…”
He sat on the bed and beckoned her over.
“No… Please… Sir… Love… Your boss, they…”
“Don’t make me ask you again, Nina,” he said firmly, and with a little nod, she came and wrapped herself over his knees. He immediately grabbed her pink panties and pulled them up in a painful wedgie, revealing the little that they covered. The slaps fell, hard and relentless, and soon she began softly crying and whispering little “sorries” in between sobs. Her bottom turned pink, then red, then a bright crimson as he poured spank after spank on it. Mindful of his boss waiting and the roast about to be cooked, he stopped and grabbed her hair, bending her head backwards and whispering in her ear.
A few minutes later they were both back in the living-room, where no comment was made and the rest of the evening went by with no incidents.
A week later, he received an email from his boss, praising him for his people skill and how he knew how to handle troublesome elements. She praised him over the discipline he had been showing in his work, and the firm hand he showed in negotiation. She was offering him a promotion.
She had added a post-scriptum : Thank your lovely wife for the opportunity she gave me to appreciate your dedication.
A letter
It had started very simply, with a letter. It was a simple, white envelope among all the others that had come that day. She had paid it no mind and it had sat on the pile of letters waiting for him when he got home.
The afternoon had been pleasant; she had baked cupcakes, spent an hour reading her favourite book for the tenth time, browsed Pinterest for a while in search of inspiration for her living-room decoration. Dinner had been simmering on the stove when he’d come home, filling the house with a delicious smell. Five minutes before he came home, she was waiting by the door, her hands behind her back, head bowed subserviently, as she knew she had to be.
He had kissed her, deeply, complimented her on the spotless state of the house, on the mouth-watering smell that came from the kitchen, and had asked her how her day had been. He was in a good mood, tender and loving. She had a happy sigh as she went and fetched him a drink.
Then he got to the letters. He opened the first one and his smile instantly turned into a frown. She came back from the kitchen with a glass of martini in hand and was about to say something when she saw the expression on his face. She froze.
“Ashley?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, “Can you explain what I’m looking at?”
“I… I… I don’t know, sir, wha-what is it?” she stammered, red in the face.
“It’s a very formal letter from our credit card company, Ashley.”
“Oh…” she said, her eyes widening.
“Maybe you’d care to explain to me how we are maxed out on it? I don’t remember any purchases lately?”
She bit her lip. “Well…”
“Well?”
“Well I was… I was on the internet and…” She was still holding the glass, and the ice cubes tinked as she shivered with dread. “I’m sorry, sir,” she tried.
“You were on the internet and what, young lady?” he said, getting up, the letter still in his hand.
“I might have… bought a few things?” Tears were gathering in her eyes and she bit her lip harder than before.
“That’s more than a few things, Ashley!” he yelled, holding the letter up to her face.
She started crying, “They were nice and… I didn’t want to wait for my birthday and…”
He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled deeply. He took the glass from her hand and gently set it down on the nearby coffee table.
“Well, whatever it is that you bought —handbag, shoes, tablet, believe me, I’ll find out—, you’re sending it all back.”
“No, ple…” she started.
“And!” he interrupted her, grabbing her ear like a scolded schoolgirl, “I’ll give you a taste of what you’ll be receiving every night for the next two weeks.”
“Nooo! Owww… Please!…”
Ignoring her pleading and muffled cries, he dragged her to the sofa and across his knees, pulled her jeans down and started generously slapping her round bottom, quickly turning it from creamy white to bright pink, and then from pink to a deep, warm red. She begged and pleaded at first, bawled her eyes out, then gritted her teeth, held tight to the sofa as her punishment went on.
The food in the kitchen started to smell like burning when he finally relented, after he got a long, sincere and heartfelt apology from her in between her sobs. He pulled her jeans all the way off and sent her to save their dinner with a final slap on her bruised bottom. She would have to plan it better for the coming two weeks ; her evenings were going to be a lot less pleasant.
