Not every day went as great as that one of course. In the month she’d been living with Frederic, Charlotte’s courage had slowly been dwindling. She’d started out self-assured that with Frederic’s help she could find the job she wanted. But after days in her current boring occupation behind the register and endless evenings sending application letters—most of which didn’t even receive an answer—Charlotte was losing hope. She started to look for excuses to cut her work short—like the night with Frederic’s friends—and only the occasional strict glance from Frederic as she was procrastinating again kept her busy most nights.
After they’d finished their woodworking project, it became particularly hard. Finally, a few days after meeting Frederic’s friends, Charlotte snapped. She’d been sitting behind the computer for nearly fifteen minutes when she realised she hadn’t even turned it on yet. She was staring at her own reflection in the black screen.
She wore the blue dress that day, the same she’d worn twice before in the last few weeks; she didn’t have many to choose from. Still, that shouldn’t be enough to explain the tears that were rolling down her cheeks. Frederic hadn’t even noticed yet. For some reason that made her angry.
She refused to work today, she just could not. Instead she got up and turned away from the computer. Frederic, finally noticing her now, got a short glimpse of her face before she ran away, up the stairs to hide in her room.
Frederic followed her immediately of course. He was knocking at her door seconds after she’d dropped into her bed.
“Charlotte, are you ok? Can I come in?” he asked.
This only made her angrier. Why did he need to ask? Of course she wasn’t ok. “No!” she cried. She didn’t want to talk to him right now. She didn’t know why she was so upset and didn’t know what to tell him.
It took a moment for Frederic to respond. “Ok,” he said eventually. “I’ll come back later to see if you’re feeling better if you want.”
She didn’t want him to come back later, she wanted him to come in now and comfort her.
“Go away,” she said. She knew her anger at him was irrational, but if he couldn’t figure out himself that she needed him right now, she wasn’t going to beg him to stay either.
Frederic didn’t respond again, but after a long silence she heard his footsteps retreating down the stairs. Charlotte buried her face in her pillow and cried softly.
She woke groggily when another knock came at her door. Surprised that she’d slept, she wondered how much time had passed. Through the window she could see it was dark outside; it must’ve been at least an hour. “Come in,” she said, slightly embarrassed about how she had sent Frederic away before.
Hesitantly Frederic entered the room and walked to the bed. He sat down next to her and placed a hand on her hip hidden beneath the blankets. “Are you feeling better now?” he asked.
Charlotte blushed. How could she be feeling better? Did he really think a bit of sleep would solve all her problems?
“No,” she said. Looking at him, she felt her anger return. He looked so perfect: well-groomed, attractive clothing, successful. He was everything she wasn’t. How could he possibly understand? “I’m not better,” she said, sitting up on the bed.
“What’s wrong?” Frederic asked.
Charlotte screamed, putting all her frustration in one loud outburst. Frederic winced. “Everything,” she yelled. “This room, this isn’t my room, nothing here belongs to me or says anything about me.” She got up and opened the old wardrobe. “These clothes. These aren’t my clothes.” She forcefully pulled down the dress she was wearing, not even hearing the sound of fabric tearing around the zipper in the back. “This isn’t my dress,” she said, throwing it on the floor. “Nothing here is mine. I don’t have anything.”
She was crying, she realised, tears rolling from her eyes as she stood there in her underwear screaming at Frederic. Why didn’t he get up and hug her, comfort her? Why was he just sitting there? She fumbled at her bra; that wasn’t hers either. Perhaps if she took that off too he would finally realise she wasn’t ‘ok.’
Suddenly Frederic stood in front of her. His hands rested on her shoulders. “Stop,” he said.
Blushingly Charlotte pulled the straps back over her shoulders lest she revealed even more than she already had. Why was he just standing there, holding her at arm’s length? Why was he afraid to touch her, to hug her?
“Please, go away,” she said. She saw in his face how her words hurt him. But she couldn’t deal with him right now. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps a night of sleep would make her feel better. Frederic, as always, respected her wishes and left her alone. Wiping the tears from her face, Charlotte crawled back into bed, trying to sleep again.
The next morning wasn’t any better. Charlotte woke up with a headache and still felt upset and guilty for how she had acted the night before. She knew Frederic would’ve left early for work. She decided to call in sick herself and then returned to her bed.
When she woke again it was early noon. She picked up the dress she had worn the day before, but did not put it on when she noticed how she’d ruined it. Still in her underwear, she made her way to the kitchen for breakfast. When she passed Frederic’s desk she thought of doing some job-hunting, but without Frederic to encourage her she quickly dismissed the idea again. Instead she thumbed through his collection of books until she found one that seemed interesting enough. She returned to her room and crawled into bed with her find. Reading perhaps would be able to finally distract her.
Alone in her room, Charlotte didn’t notice the time. She’d only been downstairs once more to pilfer some food. It was only when her stomach started rumbling again that she noticed Frederic was late. He usually got back before she did.
She was wondering whether she should go downstairs and eat without him when she finally heard the front door opening. She quickly opened the book again, pretending to read—she’d gotten quite far in it lying in bed all day—when she heard him come up the stairs. “Charlotte!” she suddenly heard him call out.
“I’m here!” she replied after a second. She had thought of pretending she wasn’t home, but she still felt guilty for the night before.
Frederic entered her room shortly after. He was carrying a large plastic bag and dropped it beside her bed. “You’re undressed,” he said, surprised.
Charlotte blushed; she’d been sitting in her bed with the blankets covering just her legs, still in the same underwear from the night before. “I ripped my dress,” she said. “I didn’t go to work today.”
Frederic frowned, but then nodded. “I guess that’s understandable. How are you feeling today?”
“Miserable,” Charlotte replied, trying not to sound too petulant.
“Well, I have something I hope will make you feel better,” Frederic said. He picked up the large plastic bag and dumped it on her lap.
Charlotte opened it carefully, finding a rich collection of colours and fabric. “These are my clothes,” she said in surprise. “How did you get these?”
Frederic’s face coloured slightly; it was strange to see him blushing. “I went to your landlord,” he explained. “I had to go through your purse to find his address. I also had to take your ID with me so I could convince him to let me buy your things back.”
New tears formed in the corners of Charlotte’s eyes. “You bought my things?” she asked.
“Yes,” Frederic said. “Well, I guess I paid your debt for you. So now you don’t have to deal with that jerk anymore. I know you’ll pay me back eventually. Most of it is still in storage, I couldn’t take it all with me. But you can go any time and take whatever you need.”
Charlotte was crying softly.
“Are you upset?” Frederic asked. “I hope you don’t mind I went through your purse. I thought you’d prefer to have your stuff back even if it meant I’d own your debt now.”
Charlotte hugged him, kneeling beside the bed while Frederic stood uncomfortably at its edge.
“Of course I’m not upset,” she said, her voice faltering as she cried. Not knowing what else to say, she just hugged him closer.
Frederic carefully slid down beside her on the bed, putting his arms around her.
“I ripped the dress you bought for me,” Charlotte admitted. She could no longer take the guilt she was feeling. All Frederic wanted was to help her, after all the things he’d done for her and given her, what had she done in return? She’d yelled at him, sent him away, ripped one of his dresses.
“I didn’t buy it for you,” Frederic said. “You bought it yourself, with money I lent you. All those things we bought, those dresses, the shirts, that cute blue nightgown,” he smiled, “those are all yours. The cabinet too, you helped me make it, so it’s partially yours as well.”
Charlotte couldn’t look up at him; he was too good for her. With her cheeks wet with tears, she wondered if she would ever be able to stop crying. She had cried enough these last two days to have dried out by now. Sitting beside him on the bed, his strong arms around her, she was reminded of how Frederic had held her before, hugging her closely, nearly a month ago. Perhaps it was finally time to think about what they’d agreed on back then. It was time to ask him.
“I think you should spank me,” she said.
Eric held Charlotte softly. He’d been looking forward to this moment, wondering if it would ever come. Suddenly he felt nervous. “Are you sure?” he asked.
Charlotte looked up at him; her nose was red, just like her eyes, her cheeks wet with tears. Somehow that made her look adorably cute, at least now that she no longer looked angry as well.
“Yes,” she said. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you or torn your… my dress.” She blushed. “I felt so guilty after sending you away, I think I deserve it.”
Thinking back about the night before, Eric knew she was right. He’d felt helpless when she’d been crying and yelling and hurt, and when she didn’t let him help her. In fact, she’d been a bit like a spoiled brat throwing a tantrum, he realised.
“Ok, then,” he replied. “I can’t disagree that you deserve a good firm spanking.” He let go of the embrace he’d still been holding her in. “You’ll want to go to the bathroom and freshen up a bit first, then come back here.” Which would also give him time to think of what he would say to her. He felt that a bit of a scolding always accompanied a spanking nicely.
Charlotte got up obediently and left him behind. He was going to be firm, so he made up the bed they’d been sitting on and prepared what he was going to say. He’d spank her here, in her room. She’d feel more comfortable here, unlike the first time they’d tried it down in the living room.
To his surprise, the idea of being strict with her wasn’t difficult at all. He’d already seen how guilty she felt and how sorry she was. He couldn’t remain angry with her, but still he’d spank her.
The physical pain he’d inflict didn’t bother him, he knew that could be enjoyed even, but the emotional one was different. He didn’t like seeing Charlotte cry. Yet he knew that she might, it would help her deal with her emotions and feel free of any remaining guilt. After he spanked her, she’d be able to start over with a clean slate. He knew that his dominance was what she needed right now.
Looking up as Charlotte returned to the room and seeing her standing hesitantly in the doorway settled his resolve as well.
With her face cleaned and her hair combed back, Eric was suddenly reminded of what an attractive young woman Charlotte was. She still wore nothing more than her underwear, a sexy set of matching bra and panties. Her bare skin looked soft, her eyes were opened large, her face full of anticipation, fear, and excitement.
It would be a pleasure having this naughty girl across his lap and spanking that bare round bottom.
“Come here,” he said, as he remained sat down on the edge of the bed. Charlotte approached him slowly, stopping right in front of him.
“I’ve been very disappointed with you today, young lady,” he said. Charlotte blushed and this encouraged him to go on.
“You really hurt my feelings when you threw that tantrum yesterday. I didn’t expect such behaviour from a grown woman such as yourself.” He paused to gauge her reaction, but Charlotte just blushed and looked down at her feet.
“At least you didn’t bother to put on a dress while you freshened up. After tearing the one you wore yesterday I think it’s fitting that you’ll get your punishment in your underwear. Next time then, you will think twice about being so careless.”
He looked at her and asked, “Well, do you have anything to say for yourself?”
Charlotte finally looked up at him, her red-flushed face unbearably cute. “No, sir,” she said. “Just that I’m sorry.”
Eric swallowed when she called him ‘sir.’ He felt the blood rush to his groin when she used the proper honorific without him telling her to. She stood in front of him with her feet crossed and her fingers entangled in front of her soft panties right in front of his eyes.
“Did you at least work on your applications today as you didn’t go to work?” he asked.
“No, sir,” Charlotte replied.
Eric shook his head. She was making it so easy for him. She really did deserve this spanking. He only hoped he could control his own arousal enough to concentrate on her needs.
“Get on the bed,” he commanded, placing his hand on the mattress beside him to indicate the right side.
“On your knees.”
Charlotte knelt beside him.
“Now, over my lap,” he said, guiding her across his knees.
He breathed deeply when her weight pressed down on his legs, her upper body resting on the bed beside him, her legs on the other side. Her back was arched, her bottom raised, round soft cheeks covered in the thin fabric of her panties, begging to be spanked. He placed his hand carefully on her behind, softly stroking her bottom. He wouldn’t hurry it this time. He would take his time, relax her into it, and then give her the spanking she deserved.
He hooked two fingers behind her panties and pulled softly.
“Remember the rules,” Eric said. Spankings were always bare bottom, even if that meant she’d be left nearly naked, in nothing more than her bra.
Slowly he pulled down her panties, down to her knees, her lower legs, and across her feet before dropping them to the floor. He placed his hand back on her now bare bottom. Bad girl, he thought and then spanked her.
Charlotte kept her eyes closed, biting her lower lip. She’d been extremely nervous when returning to her room. Luckily Frederic had taken full control of the situation and she hadn’t had to talk much.
She was surprised at how guilty and embarrassed she had felt when he’d scolded her. She would’ve rather been anywhere else than standing there, bearing his disappointment. It was a relief when he had finally ordered her across his lap. His words, even more than her own thoughts, had convinced her that she deserved what was coming.
Even when he lowered her panties, baring her completely as she lay helplessly across his lap, she didn’t feel as embarrassed as when he had scolded her. His hands had felt gentle on her bare skin when he touched her. Despite her shame, her embarrassment, and her fear, she was as wet as if she expected him to fuck her, not discipline her, and she wondered if he could see her arousal. When the touch of his hand disappeared, she braced herself. It returned with a soft smack and Charlotte released a long breath; she hadn’t realised she’d been holding it.
He didn’t spank her hard, definitely not as hard as he had before. The palm of his hand smacked her softly, alternating between her cheeks. It felt warm and comfortable, enjoyable even. Charlotte hoped he wasn’t holding back in fear of what happened last time. She wanted him to spank her for real. Still, she dared not speak, but moaned softly as each smack added to the heat in her rear. This gentle spanking felt like she was enjoying it perhaps a bit too much.
Her bottom glowed pleasantly; the soft sting disappeared nearly as quickly as he raised his hand for the next swat. When she arched her back to offer Frederic a larger target, he grunted appreciatively. She felt his other hand encircling her waist, pulling her closer. “You seem to be warming up nicely,” he said. Then spanked her harder.
Charlotte moaned as the harder smacks spread a stinging sensation through her skin. With each impact, the stinging pain built, coming closer and closer to becoming unbearable.
Then Frederic stopped, rubbed her bottom, stroking her sensitive buttocks, and the pain subsided. Then he started again, a bit harder than the previous time, building up the sting.
After he’d stopped three times, and then started again, Charlotte grunted deeply, struggling slightly as the pain each smack brought to her already sore bottom was unbearable by itself. He was spanking her harder now than he had that first time, she was sure.
“Are you learning a lesson, young lady?” Frederic suddenly asked when she kicked her legs up so high she’d almost slid off his lap.
“Yes, sir,” Charlotte replied breathlessly, enjoying the short reprieve from her torment.
Frederic was stroking her bottom, and she looked over her shoulder to see his strong hand massaging her behind. She gasped in surprise at how red it looked.
She really was learning a lesson, she realised. Despite the stinging pain, the embarrassment and guilt she felt, she hadn’t cried this time. She wondered if she’d done all her crying before, or if she really understood she deserved this.
Frederic’s hand on her bottom felt nice however, just like she’d always imagined his hands would feel on her skin. She was afraid she couldn’t hide her arousal from him.
“I hope you’re not enjoying this too much,” Frederic said, as if he could read her mind.
“No, sir,” Charlotte said, a deep blush creeping up on her face.
Frederic smacked her bottom softly. “Don’t think I don’t know when a girl is enjoying a good spanking, young lady,” he said. “Perhaps you need to be reminded why you’re in this situation in the first place.”
Turning away so she could no longer see his hand, Charlotte swallowed. “Yes, sir,” she said. Frederic was right of course. This spanking so far had been as arousing as it had been educational.
“So tell me,” Frederic continued. “Why are you getting a spanking?”
Charlotte hesitated, Frederic’s hand on her sore buttocks having suddenly become a warning that she had better start talking soon.
“Because I’ve been a bad girl, sir,” she said. Frederic continued to massage her stinging backside, waiting for more. “Because I threw a tantrum,” she blushed at admitting that’s what it had been, “for yelling at you, acting spoiled, and tearing my dress.”
“And do you think,” Frederic replied to that, “that a naughty girl like you should enjoy her spanking?”
“No, sir,” Charlotte replied. Her guilt had returned in full strength; she shouldn’t have been enjoying this, she didn’t deserve to. She wished Frederic hadn’t been so soft on her. “Perhaps you should spank me harder,” she admitted.
“Don’t worry,” Frederic said. “We were just warming up.”
Charlotte obediently moved forward as Eric grabbed her by the hips and pushed her so she lay mostly over his left leg. Now he could pin her legs beneath his right one to stop her from kicking as much as she had. He planned on spanking her a lot harder and knew she would not be able to hold still. He hadn’t known beforehand how hard he’d be able to spank her, but her reaction so far had strengthened his resolve. She knew the safeword, so if he misjudged her, she could intervene.
Spanking her so far had been a joy. His hand stung slightly, but Charlotte’s bottom was a beautiful shade of red. Her moans and yelps had sounded wonderful to his ears. He had a full view of not only her lovely bottom, but everything between her legs as well; she was so wet he could smell it.
For a moment he wished he wasn’t punishing her, but just enjoying a sensual spanking or perhaps roleplaying.
They weren’t however. She deserved a real spanking, and he’d known from the start that he needed to give her one. He wanted her to cry and beg, promise that she’d be good and not disappoint him again. He’d make her forget her arousal and make up for her bad behaviour. With a full swing of his arm, he smacked her bottom hard, his hand sending ripples of flesh away from the zone of impact. Charlotte squealed softly.
With her legs pinned beneath his and his left hand pushing down on her lower back, Eric had full control of her struggling body. Charlotte no longer moaned, but squealed and yelped as he spanked her again and again. Her bottom bounced from each smack, constantly in motion, burning red and with no time to cool down before the next smack landed.
It felt good to spank her like this. It felt good to hear her cries of pain and discomfort, knowing she was getting what she deserved. Knowing that she knew it too. When his arm tired and Charlotte’s struggles weakened, he slowed down.
He could hear her sobbing and knew she was crying again. He suddenly hoped he hadn’t taken things too far.
“Are you ok?” he asked. “Do you want me to stop?”
“Yes,” Charlotte said. “I mean, I’m fine. Don’t stop.”
Eric grinned. A woman is never fine when she says she is, he thought. She definitely didn’t look fine with her bright red bottom and her faltering voice. This time however, he wasn’t going to save her, not yet. He raised his hand and spanked her again. Slower this time, each smack hard and aimed precisely where he wanted it.
“You’ve been a really—bad girl,” he said, in between each smack. “You really—disappointed me—and I’m sure you—disappointed yourself—as well.”
He paused for a moment, without stopping the slow measured smacks. Charlotte’s yelps had nearly drowned out his words by the end, but he knew she had heard him.
“I hope you—learned a valuable lesson—today. And—will promise me—to behave better—in the future.”
He paused again, this time resting his arm as well, softly stroking Charlotte’s glowing hot bottom. She was still softly sobbing and he waited for her to catch her breath.
“I promise, sir,” Charlotte said. She meant it, deeply; she was going to try her very best not to disappoint him again. She brushed at her tears, embarrassed that in the end she had cried again. What his hand hadn’t been able to do at first, his words had achieved effortlessly. Still, she felt better now that she’d cried.
“I promise I’ll do my best,” she said again.
“Good,” Frederic replied. “We’re almost done.” He pushed down on her back to reposition her across his lap; she’d been struggling a lot. The pain in her bottom was obvious from her discomfort.
Charlotte winced slightly; she had hoped it would be over now that she’d promised to behave and now that she’d learned her lesson. “Wait, please,” she begged when Frederic raised his hand.
He paused in the motion. “Did you want to say anything?” he asked.
“No,” Charlotte said. “I mean, I’m really sorry, I’ve learned my lesson.” She didn’t know what else to say.
“I promise I’ll do better,” she repeated for the third time. Silly, she thought. He’d heard her the first two times and still decided to spank her more. What was it the rules stated? He decided when the spanking was over. There was the safeword of course, but no, she couldn’t use that. If Frederic thought she deserved more, he was probably right. If only it didn’t hurt so much.
“I’m glad to hear that,” Frederic said, and then spanked her bottom anyway.
Charlotte yelped. She’d felt helpless before, but now she really understood how vulnerable she was, how little control she had over the situation. She’d have to endure until Frederic decided to relent, nothing she’d want to say could stop that. And in the end, she thought, it was all her own fault.
As Frederic no longer scolded her between each smack, each stinging painful hit came quickly after the other. Charlotte couldn’t feel anything but the burning pain in her bottom, Frederic’s hard punishing hand, and his firm grip that contained all her struggles.
Promising to be a good girl wasn’t enough, she realised between cries and sobs. She’d have to be a good girl. But as the spanking continued and the pain became unbearable, all she wanted was for him to stop. She pleaded with him, begged him even. She repeated her promise almost as often as his hand smacked her bottom again and again despite her pleas. It was only when she ran out of words and lay helplessly sobbing across Frederic’s lap that he stopped.
His hand rested on her bottom, not rubbing it, acting as a calm and reassuring presence. “It’s ok,” Frederic said. “It’s over now.”
Charlotte took a deep breath. As if those words had freed her, the pain seemingly started to relent. Her bottom still felt on fire of course, stinging harshly. But it was bearable now, acceptable. She’d gotten her punishment and had endured.
Still, she stayed across his lap for a while longer. Her muscles started to relax, her breathing returned to normal, and as she wiped the tears from her face on the sheets, Frederic released her legs from beneath his. She couldn’t understand why she felt so good right now. Embarrassed that she’d been spanked yes, her bottom sore and aflame yes, but no longer guilty, no longer angry at what her life had become. She was freed, a good girl once again.
A good girl, she realised, that was lying half-naked across a man’s lap, her bottom and more completely exposed, touched even by his hands. She got up slowly, suddenly embarrassed of him looking at her. When he didn’t stop her, she remembered she was free to move. “Can I get dressed now?” she asked.
“Of course,” Frederic said. She saw him hesitate, unsure what should come next. “I’ll wait for you downstairs,” he said. “It’s getting late, you’re probably hungry.”
Charlotte blushed; dinner seemed such a strange, mundane thing to think about after her punishment. “All right,” she said. “I’ll come down soon.”
She picked out a dress from the bag Frederic had brought. It was a bit wrinkled, but she’d love to be wearing one of her own old, familiar dresses again. She pulled it over her head and winced when the fabric slid down her sore, swollen bottom. Even this light touch against her skin felt uncomfortable and she dreaded the panties that would fit her snugly. She decided to leave those off for now.
She didn’t go downstairs straight away, but instead stopped in the bathroom on the way down. In the mirror there she could finally see what her bottom looked like. It was bright red, darker than she’d imagined possible. The colour covered her entire bottom and the upper side of her thighs; it could be seen even below the hem of her dress. A reminder of her promise that would stay visible for quite a while.
Charlotte found Frederic in the kitchen, already preparing dinner. He handed her an apron.
“Wear this,” he said. “You can prepare the sauce.”
Smiling, Charlotte took up the spoon and started stirring the pot after pulling on the apron and tying it behind her back.
“You know,” Frederic said as he moved behind her. “After I spanked my wife, I’d make her stand in the corner. Standing there, with her hands on her head and her sore red bottom exposed, she had time to think about her behaviour, about the promises she made, and on how she would improve in the future.” He placed his hands on her hips and Charlotte gasped. He pulled up her dress slowly, exposing her red bottom inch by inch.
“I think you’ll have time to think a bit while you work,” he continued. “We don’t really need a corner, do we?”
“No, sir.” Charlotte blushed.
Frederic chuckled softly. “I was going to let you keep your panties on this time. But I see you’ve forgotten to put any on.”
Charlotte couldn’t help but giggle herself. She swung her hips slightly, threading a fine line between obediently bearing her punishment as a naughty girl and teasing Frederic like the good girl she’d been so often before and was hoping to become again.
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