In spite of the fact that my jaw was aching I was not actually all that angry at Cristina. She had tried it on, had failed, and had responded hysterically as women often do when their idiot schemes fall flat. That said, she deserved to be taken in hand and put in her place, besides which she had a nice bottom and I figured that it deserved a nice smacking - and I was certainly in the mood to trim up a doxy that day.
"What are you going to do?" Of all the idiot questions a woman can ask that is probably the most retarded, especially when I have her by the arm and am marching her the two or three paces back to the bed. I suspect that Cristina knew exactly what was going to happen and if she was unsure at first then my sitting down and yanking her unceremoniously across my knee probably answered whatever questions were going through her little mind.
I pulled back the skirt of her dress and left it bunched above her waist. As I did that I grabbed the left arm and jammed it behind my back before taking her right arm and folding it, slowly and deliberately into the small of her back and holding it there with my left hand. Then it was the work of a moment to cock my right thigh over her already scissoring thighs.
For some reason Cristina had not replaced her panties so her bottom was bare under the dress. I spent a moment admiring her firm, rounded buttocks, before raising my arm above my head in preparation for a descent that would culminate, I knew, in a satisfying crack as my hard hand came into contact with Cristina's soft, yielding, female bottom.
"No! Please! I don't want to be spanked!" Of all the idiotic things that a woman in that position could think of to say those remarks were probably the silliest. For a moment I paused whilst I stifled a laugh, but then I remembered my duty as it were and my hand cracked down on that delightful rump to leave a clear imprint engraved upon the wobbling cheeks.
Cristina opened her mouth to protest just as the second slap landed on her unprotected rear end which knocked the breath out of her. By the time she had taken a deep gulp of air into her lungs in preparation for a good old moan smacks three and four had landed on their target. Give her credit, though, because after that the whole spanking was punctuated by her cries, shouts and squeals as my hand rose and fell on her bare bottom.
And she wriggled! I do not know where she learned to squirm like that but it was like trying to hold an eel across my lap. Cristina gyrated her hips frantically to try and avoid contact between my hand and her bottom, but all I did was slow down the rate of delivery to make sure that each smack landed on the target zone. Since she was not getting the awarded number of smacks I increased the severity of each one, bringing my hand down in a great arc from high above my head to land right on on the money, with each smack increasing the redness levels of Cristina's bottom, so that her buttocks went from pink to red and then to a deep, burning crimson. At least that way she received her due measure of correction in severity if not in quantity.
"I hate you! Let me go! Let me go this instant! Can't you hear me? I am telling you to let me go!" Of course I could hear her. Toe be honest I wished that I could turn her voice down as Cristina had a fine set of lungs that allowed her to boom out her demands at full volume. Not that I took any notice, you understand, but I must confess to the fact that I wished that she had been a bit quieter as the sound of her raucous tones did begin to grate on my sensibilities.
Not that it distracted me from my duty - if you are thinking that then put the idea clear out of your mind. No woman will ever throw a heavy object at me and get away with it and I was determined to administer a lesson to Cristina's mind via her posterior that she would remember for a long time to come. Starting with every time she tried to sit down for the next few days!
"Please let me go. Please, I'm sorry, but just let me go and I'll do as you want. I'll do anything if you just let me go, she whimpered. Now that was more like it! My arm was getting tired, anyway, and I did give serious consideration to letting her up, but then I remembered the way the vase had crashed against my chin and I decided that a bottom under the hand was worth two that were still able to sit down and I redoubled my efforts to smack every ounce of sauce out of that insolent young madam.
Cristina stopped struggling and lay whimpering across my knee as the crescendo of smacks continued to rain down upon her bottom. I can remember pausing for a moment to admire my handiwork, which must have led Cristina to think that her torment was over. Alas for her I began again, spanking first one cheek and then the other, each smack delivered with all the force of my arm behind it and each one having its effect on the mind and bottom of the wretched girl who lay helplessly across my knee.
"Please, please, please," she repeated, over and over again. I looked down at her at that point and only then did I realise, in the pause, that my arm was so weary that I could barely lift it. I rested my aching palm on the bottom that I had just corrected and waited for a moment to get back my breath. A few moments later, and without further ado, I dumped her on the floor and left her to blubber to her heart's content.
To be continued.
"No! Please! I don't want to be spanked!" Of all the idiotic things that a woman in that position could think of to say those remarks were probably the silliest. For a moment I paused whilst I stifled a laugh, but then I remembered my duty as it were and my hand cracked down on that delightful rump to leave a clear imprint engraved upon the wobbling cheeks.
Cristina opened her mouth to protest just as the second slap landed on her unprotected rear end which knocked the breath out of her. By the time she had taken a deep gulp of air into her lungs in preparation for a good old moan smacks three and four had landed on their target. Give her credit, though, because after that the whole spanking was punctuated by her cries, shouts and squeals as my hand rose and fell on her bare bottom.
And she wriggled! I do not know where she learned to squirm like that but it was like trying to hold an eel across my lap. Cristina gyrated her hips frantically to try and avoid contact between my hand and her bottom, but all I did was slow down the rate of delivery to make sure that each smack landed on the target zone. Since she was not getting the awarded number of smacks I increased the severity of each one, bringing my hand down in a great arc from high above my head to land right on on the money, with each smack increasing the redness levels of Cristina's bottom, so that her buttocks went from pink to red and then to a deep, burning crimson. At least that way she received her due measure of correction in severity if not in quantity.
"I hate you! Let me go! Let me go this instant! Can't you hear me? I am telling you to let me go!" Of course I could hear her. Toe be honest I wished that I could turn her voice down as Cristina had a fine set of lungs that allowed her to boom out her demands at full volume. Not that I took any notice, you understand, but I must confess to the fact that I wished that she had been a bit quieter as the sound of her raucous tones did begin to grate on my sensibilities.
Not that it distracted me from my duty - if you are thinking that then put the idea clear out of your mind. No woman will ever throw a heavy object at me and get away with it and I was determined to administer a lesson to Cristina's mind via her posterior that she would remember for a long time to come. Starting with every time she tried to sit down for the next few days!
"Please let me go. Please, I'm sorry, but just let me go and I'll do as you want. I'll do anything if you just let me go, she whimpered. Now that was more like it! My arm was getting tired, anyway, and I did give serious consideration to letting her up, but then I remembered the way the vase had crashed against my chin and I decided that a bottom under the hand was worth two that were still able to sit down and I redoubled my efforts to smack every ounce of sauce out of that insolent young madam.
Cristina stopped struggling and lay whimpering across my knee as the crescendo of smacks continued to rain down upon her bottom. I can remember pausing for a moment to admire my handiwork, which must have led Cristina to think that her torment was over. Alas for her I began again, spanking first one cheek and then the other, each smack delivered with all the force of my arm behind it and each one having its effect on the mind and bottom of the wretched girl who lay helplessly across my knee.
"Please, please, please," she repeated, over and over again. I looked down at her at that point and only then did I realise, in the pause, that my arm was so weary that I could barely lift it. I rested my aching palm on the bottom that I had just corrected and waited for a moment to get back my breath. A few moments later, and without further ado, I dumped her on the floor and left her to blubber to her heart's content.
To be continued.
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