Saturday Spankings is where an author posts around 8 sentences of a spanking on their website. My contribution for Saturday Spankings comes from my latest book: His Naughty Little Housewife. Thea is in big trouble for not doing her chores properly, so Trent decides to teach her a lesson:
Thea felt a knot in her stomach as she turned over, so her face was pressed into the pillow. The only place for her arms was above her head, as she waited, still fully clothed, for him to deliver retribution. Before he did anything else, he anchored her hands to the head of the bed once more. He turned the hem of her dress back. She felt the air against the bare skin between her stockings and her garter straps. Two spankings in one day would be bad enough, but she had a feeling this was going to be worse than a hand spanking. If she wasn’t over his knee, he only ever punished her with something scary, such as his belt, the paddle, or the cane, she realized with dread.
“Don’t move. You’re getting twelve.” His voice was calm and measured, and it almost lulled her into a false sense of security. Then the cane whistled down, burning a searing line into her cheeks. Thea bit into the pillow and tried to relax, as her bottom clenched with pain. When the second stroke landed, she wiggled slightly to get the sting out, but it wouldn’t shift. The next one made her bite down on the pillow, hard, and her bottom clenched again, but Trent tapped her with the tip of the cane, and she made her glutes ease off before the next one landed. The strokes came down hard, and before long, Thea was crying into the pillow and fighting to stay quiet. Her ass was on fire, but the neighbors couldn’t know what was happening, and they’d surely be around straightaway asking questions if they heard Thea repeatedly screaming on a Friday afternoon. Oh, but she wanted to scream at the top of her voice. She wished she had just told Trent the truth about the dishes; she could have asked him what to do with them. How many plates had she broken by stacking them up on the side of the dish drainer? Another hard stroke landed on top of her sensitive bottom, and she let out a little whimper.
“I’m sorry, Trent! Really I am,” she said through her tears.
He paused for a moment and stroked her hair.
“You’re doing really well, sweetheart, and I know you can take the last few,” he encouraged, then he resumed caning her.
Lots of Love,
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