Page 330 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 1

“Can I just pee first?” she asked in voice that sounded too squeaky.

He nodded without comment. He still looked so stern and remote. Her thighs trembled as she peed and her breath was coming in quick little gasps. She returned and stood in front of him, her belly doing flip flops. He still held the wooden spoon in one hand. He felt for her hips and then pushed her across his knee, with her head resting on the bed.

There was no waiting in anticipation this time. It wasn't a game. He started immediately spanking hard with the spoon, taking her breath away with the thud of it. She gasped and squirmed. He threw his free leg over to scissor hers so that she was firmly pinned across his knee. It was worse than any spanking he'd given her, and this was just the warm up. As the burn increased, she struggled harder to escape the punishing smacks of the wooden spoon. It seemed he was applying it all over her already burning bottom—smarting every inch until she imagined it was as red as his burnt skin.

“Please, Dom!” she was starting to panic. “Stop! Please!” Fear had welled up in her. She couldn't possibly take any more, she was sure of it. And he was so angry, he was sure to overdo it. And that wasn't even considering his vampire strength. Oh God, were his fangs out? He'd warned her to be careful of him when he was angry. She was flipping out completely. She reached a hand back to block the spoon and felt Dom's body jerk in response. He snatched her wrist and pinned it behind her back.

“Do not reach, Kate! I could break your fingers that way.” Then he gave her five of the hardest spanks she had ever felt. She screamed bloody murder the whole time, trying in vain to get free of his merciless hold.

He lifted her abruptly onto her feet, then and rubbed her bottom. She was completely agitated and confused. “Go stand in the corner. I think you need a break,” he said in the most ordinary tone, as if he hadn't just spanked the living daylights out of her. Please say that was enough, she prayed.

He'd learned these things from the damn blogs. Warm ups and corner times and giving a break. She started to rub her bottom and then stopped abruptly and peeked back at him. That was something that wasn't allowed, according to many “heads of households” on the blogs. But then she realized he couldn't see her anyway. She leaned her head into the corner, sobbing and rubbing her blazing bottom.

“Where is your bag?” he asked her.

She was too confused to even know what he meant. She peeked to see him feeling around on the dresser for her purse. She kicked at the wall. She felt so bad about herself at that moment. She banged her head on the wall a few times.

“Stop that.” Dom barked. She jumped and turned around. He walked over to her and took her shoulders. “Calm down, Kate,” he said sternly.

Her bag was on his shoulder and he turned to it now, and reached into it. She stared at him dumbly, shifting from foot to foot as if she might somehow alleviate the burn she was feeling. After a moment, his hand emerged with her flower essences. He unscrewed the top and held the dropper out to her, blinking rapidly, his eyes trying to focus. She took his wrist and guided it over her open mouth and then made an “o.k.” sound. He squirted a dropperful into her mouth and then another into his own. She couldn't have been more surprised that he would remember the flower essences and think to administer them now.

She looked at the bed and saw he had stacked the pillows in a pile while she was in the corner, and the belt was lying next to them. She felt the anxiety welling up in her again. “Dom,” she pleaded through her tears. “Dom, please. Please don't be angry with me. I'm so sorry.”

The banging of her head against the wall had really thrown him. He realized with a bit of a shock that the reason Kate couldn't calm her emotions was because of his own. He'd been prickly and irritated with her and she was absolutely freaking out. He could feel guilt and fear and agitation radiating from her. He took a deep breath and exhaled, listening into how his body reacted to the flower essences. It really was powerful stuff.

“Kate,” he said in a much gentler voice. “Bambina. It's okay. I'm sorry I seemed angry. I'm not.”

He could feel her resistance to that and he said it again. “I'm not angry. I promise you. I admit that I was irritated, but I've already let it go. I got it out with the wooden spoon.” He reached back and rubbed her backside. He scooped her into his arms and walked to the bed, banging his shin against it despite his efforts to feel with his legs. He sat down and cradled her in his arms.

“You made a mistake. It happens. I'm going to punish you for it and all will be forgiven. And then I will never mention it again.”

She nodded tearfully into his neck. He rubbed her back. They sat that way for a few minutes and her breath started to calm.

“I'm scared,” she admitted in a small voice.

His heart lurched. He kissed her head. “I know you are, bambina. But you can trust me. Yours isn't the first bottom I've whipped in my life,” he said, patting her backside softly.

She nodded. “Okay.”

“Are you ready?”

“Yes,” she squeaked.

He stood her up and got to his own feet. “Lie over those pillows there,” he said, waving his hand in the general direction of the stack. He was starting to be able to make out shadows now, which was a great improvement to the searing white light that had been floating in his visual field.

He heard her obey and he picked up the belt. He blinked at her form, trying to take in the shape. Actually, whipping someone blind was not in his repertoire. What had he been thinking? Spanking with her over his lap had been easy because her body was so close to his that he knew where everything lay. But this position?

He reached out his hand to verify that she was lying exactly as he thought she was. He found the two dimples at the back of her pelvis. He traced lower to find the top of her butt crack. “If I strike you here or higher I want you to say the words 'too high'. Capiche?”

“Capiche,” she agreed.

He brought his hand down past where the butt meets thigh. “If I strike you here or lower you will say 'too low'. Got it?”

“Yes.”

He took a deep breath and held the intent that he would deliver each stroke exactly where he meant to and began. The slap of leather on flesh was loud, and her cries were even louder. It pained him to hurt her. There was nothing sexy about this spanking.

He gave her fifty strokes—enough to make it memorable for the next day or two. He couldn't tell how they colored her skin. She didn't scream this time—the cuddle they'd had had settled her into her punishment. She lay submissively, crying hard, but not moving. She did croak “too low” once but he'd been aiming for the juncture between her bottom and thighs, so he didn't worry. When he finished, he scooped her up and climbed to the head of the bed, leaned back against the headboard and cuddled her in his arms.

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