Tuesday, 25 January 2011

A Fine Spanking For Bernadette, Part Two

As might be expected, Bernadette was in no hurry to leave the car, which was fine because I was in no mood to have a debate with her. I switched off the ignition and climbed out of the car to walk around to the passenger's door. Without further ado I opened it, grabbed Bernadette by the arm, and yanked her out of the vehicle to stand her by my side with her right arm held firmly in my grasp. Then, with her arm pushed upwards in my grasp so that her shoulder was forced up and her whole body was thrown off balance, I started to march her to the door.

"I can walk by myself, thank you very much," she spat, in a quiet voice that was filled with a mixture of fury and helplessness.

"Fine," I replied. "Let's see you do it." I let go of Bernadette's arm and gave her a firm smack to the rump. Trust me she felt that smack through the thin cotton of her dress, at least if the jump she made was anything to go by.

We made it to the front door and Bernadette began to fish in her bag for the house keys. She became flustered and started to grope in the bag, so I just grabbed it from her, got the keys out and opened the door. Then I took hold of madam and pushed her into the hallway.

Bernadette had become not exactly hysterical, but had certainly reached the stage where she was no longer in control of her actions. She cast her eyes around almost in desperation, looking anywhere but straight in front of her where I stood. She hopped from one foot to another, ran her hands through her hair, and then grabbed me by the lapels of my jacket and burried her face in my chest.

"You're frightening me," she said, her voice an octave or so higher than normal.

"You should have thought about all that before you started your antics," was all I said, as I took her hand and led her upstairs. 

Bernadette's shoulders drooped as we walked up the two flights of stairs. It was as if she knew that any resistance would be futile and would have only served to earn her a harder spanking - if that were at all possible as my intention was to administer a correction that she would remember every time she tried to sit down for the next week or so.

We made it to her flat, which was basically one very large room in the old house. Bernadette wanted to fuss over things and tried to hang up her bag over the arm of a chair, and reached down to take off her shoes, but I called a quick halt to such time wasting antics and grabbed her by both shoulders, then holding her upright and forcing her to look into my eyes.

"Young lady, you know what is going to happen, and there is really nothing that you can say that I find even interesting at this point," I told her simply. Bernadette gasped and shook her head from side to side. She tried to lift her arms, but I turned, grabbing her by one wrist as I did so, and marched her over to the bed that stood in the other corner of the room. It was high enough for my purposes, and I sat down and pulled the wretched girl across my knee.

"Nooooo," she wailed, turning her head to look at me as I placed her left arm behind me back and folded the other one into the small of her back. "Please," she continued, a plea that I ignored completely as I flipped up her dress to expose her bottom, fetchingly clad in cream panties that were decorated with small rosebuds and trimmed with light blue lace, to my gaze.
Normally I lecture a recalcitrant female once I have taken her panties down, but I knew that Bernadette  would burst into tears as soon as that happened. Once she was wailing to the high heavens then I could talk until I was blue in the face for all the good it would do, so in her case the lecture always preceded the lowering of her final defences.

"Now then, little girl," I told her. "I have had a day that I want to forget,  but can't, thanks to you and your stupidity. Now I am going to give you an evening that will be just as memorable."

With that I hooked my fingers into the waistband of her panties and calmly, inexorably, I peeled them down to mid-thigh. Bernadette began to cry immediately as I knew she would, but that didn't matter because as I cocked my right leg over her already scissoring thighs, the spanking  of the decade was about to begin.

To be concluded. . .

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