Covert Cravings (9 page)

“I was.  I am.  I mean, I have always been very happy with you, Scotty,” she sighed.  “Always.”

He smiled.

“Likewise.  But now things are changing and we have rules, don’t we, Bunny?” he asked firmly.

“Yes, sir.  We have rules.”

“You may continue your blog, but I want to see every entry before you publish.  Got it?” he said, tapping her nose.

“Yes, sir.  I promise,” she replied, dutifully.

“Which brings me to...” he paused, staring at her, seeing the expectancy in her eyes. “Your punishment.”

“Oh.  Really?” she asked, wide-eyed.

“Yes.  Really.   Let’s see – it’s almost 7:15,” he began, then paused.

“We’ll have a light dinner.  After we finish you’ll clean up and I’ll come up here.  I have some reading to do.  You’ll stay downstairs until precisely
9pm.  Then you will come up here.  Following me so far?”

“Yes,” she replied, wondering what was coming next, though she knew it had to involve a spanking.

“You’ll go to the bottom drawer of my dresser there where you will find the hairbrush…”

“The hairbrush?” she interrupted, her eyes wider still.

“Yes, the hairbrush,” he repeated.  “Don’t interrupt again,” he added firmly. “You’ll bring it over, kneel in front of me and ask me to punish you for lying and deceiving me.  And I want a full admission of guilt and a request to be appropriately dealt with.  Not all the reasons why. Got it?”

“
Ohhh, yes, sir.”

“One more thing, Bunny.  I may be new at this but I’m very clear about certain things,” he said sternly.  “However, having said that, I also know I’m not perfect.  You absolutely must communicate with me about anything and everything.  It’s the only way this is going to work.  If you think I’m being too hard on you about something, tell me.  If you think a rule is unfair, tell me.  Promise?”

“I promise,” she replied.  “I won’t hold anything back from now on.”

“You better not,” he warned, but smiled as he said it.  “Now let’s get cleaned up and go eat.”

She snuggled him for a moment, smelling his skin, feeling his strong, muscled body, and thought she must be the luckiest girl in the world.

Emily was a nervous wreck.  It was 8:55.  In five minutes she would have to head up the stairs and fetch the hairbrush.  He was going to spank her.  He was going to spank her just the way she had described it in her blog.  That meant – yikes.  That meant he was really going to spank her.  Not just tantalize her bottom. 

In the hour that had passed between having dinner and washing the dishes she had attempted to write another blog.  It was impossible.  She tried to watch television – no go.  She didn’t even know what programs she was looking at.  She paced, then wiped the counters in the kitchen, then went back online and researched, ‘Spanking With A Hairbrush’.  But when she tried to read the articles and blogs she simply couldn’t focus.

She kept telling herself not to be so crazy, but the more she did the crazier she became.  Then suddenly it was 8:55.  Looking back she saw it was now 8:57.  An inspired thought danced through her head and she raced to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator.  Reaching in she grabbed the bottle of Vanilla Vodka and took a swig, wishing she’d thought of it before. 

It was time.

Taking a deep breath she headed up to the bedroom and walked through the door.  He was sitting in the chair reading, and when she entered he looked idly up from his book, then slowly closed it and placed it on the coffee table.  She realized she was just standing there and hurried across to the dresser.  Pulling open the bottom drawer where she saw the hairbrush… And a leather paddle… And a riding crop…  And a flogger.  She gulped.  She had written about all of them in her blog.

Holy crap!  They look much worse in real life,
she thought, picking up the hairbrush.  Then she saw the other items: two blindfolds, several different sized dildos still in their packages, some lube...

Lube?  Why the hell would be have bought... Oh, no!  Damn.  I wrote about that too...

“I’m waiting!”

His voice broke her from her reverie and she jumped.  Closing the drawer she turned to face him.  He inwardly smiled.  He had let her sit there for a minute or two so she could take in all the bits and pieces that he left there for her discovery.  She looked quite shaken.

“Sorry, sir,” she mumbled, then hurried over and kneeled in front of him.

“Please put the hairbrush on the ottoman and stand up and remove all your clothes.”

“Oh, yes, sir,” she stammered, and dropping the hairbrush she rose up and yanked off her jeans and T-shirt.”

“Leave your socks,” he said, as she was about to pull them off.  She stopped and looked at him, waiting for further instructions.  “Now you may kneel,” he finished, and she immediately dropped in front of him.

“Yes?” he asked.

“Oh, I – uh – please, sir, would you spank me with this hairbrush.  I lied to you for several months.  I deceived you. I wrote a blog and kept it secret and didn’t tell you any of the things I was thinking about,” she blurted.

“Emily,” he said slowly.  “Let’s start again.  You were just saying words.  Words you think I want to hear.  And I do want to hear them but they have to come from your heart.  You have to mean them.  Now start over and tell me how you really feel, and what you want me to do.”

Oh Lord.  He’s right.  He’s always right!

“Sorry,” she mumbled.  “It’s just a bit strange for me.  I mean…”

“Take your time.  Just talk to me.  Honestly,” he coaxed.

“Well,” she began, sitting back on her haunches, “I feel really –”

“Kneel back up please,” he said, firmly, interrupting her.  “Leaning back on your feet like that isn’t working for me.”

“Oh?  Yes.  Sorry, sir,” she replied, and as she rose up on her knees she could feel the difference.

“Um, yes.  I see what you mean,” she mumbled.

“Continue, please.”

“Actually, kneeling here,” she began, feeling a blush rise across her face, “I am feeling really ashamed.  I mean, really.  I didn’t trust you.  Not only did I not trust you, I was a coward.  I realize that now.  I don’t think I’ve ever been cowardly like that.  I guess I was just scared that you’d reject me.”

“What have I ever done to make you think I’d reject you?”

“Nothing,” she sighed.  “I was being stupid.  Childish, and secretive, and oh, Scott, sir, I feel so guilty.”

She looked up at him, then down at the hairbrush.

“Please – I really need you to do this.  I’m scared but I need you to spank me.  Just like I wrote except, it matters.  It’s not just a fun fantasy thing anymore.  I need to be punished, properly punished.  Not just for lying and deceiving you, but for hurting you.  I’m really sorry,” she whimpered, and while offering him the hairbrush added, “Please, sir?  Please will you spank me?  I don’t want to feel guilty anymore.  I want a fresh start.”

He took the hairbrush from her hands and rolled it around his fingers.

“Do you understand this is going to hurt? And I mean, really hurt?”

Her face crinkled and she shifted uncomfortably on her knees.

“Yes, sir,” she squeaked.  “I do.”

“And I’ll spank you as long and as hard as I see fit.  If you start begging me to stop, I’ll have to spank you harder – and longer.  Can you control yourself?”

“I uh – I guess I’ll find out,” she quivered.

“I guess you will,” he agreed.  “Last chance.  Are you sure?”

She took a deep breath.

“Yes.  I’m sure.  I deserve it.”

“You most certainly do,” he said, his voice suddenly very stern.

He rose from the chair and walked around her, and pulled the ottoman from its place in front of the fire, placing it directly in front of her.

“Bend across it please,” he said, brusquely.

Emily, thinking she was going to be across his lap, stared at it.

“I’m waiting.  And I’m getting tired of saying that.  Bend over the ottoman.  It’s quite simple.”

Leaning forward she placed herself across the soft, padded seat.  She saw him reach behind the chair and when he pulled his hand back he was holding a black satin scarf and several lengths of rope.

“Oh my gosh.  Scott?  What are you going to do?”

“Gag you if you ask such questions,” he answered, sharply.  “Be quiet.”

Gulping, she stayed still as he pulled the black sash across her eyes and tied it securely behind her head.  Then taking her wrists he tied them quickly around the front legs of the ottoman, then did the same with her knees at the back.  He was fast and efficient.  Within a couple of minutes she found herself completely secured and unable to move.

Settling in the chair he sat back and studied her.   He was very unhappy with what she had done.  It was interesting to feel aroused at the sight of her helplessness and upset with her for her actions.  It was almost a conflicting set of emotions.  But the more he thought about her duplicity the more he understood what he was feeling. He would have ample opportunity to warm her bottom for their mutual enjoyment.  This was different.  This was serious.  She was a very naughty girl, and naughty girls get punished.

He leaned forward and smoothed the back of the hairbrush against her bottom.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” she squeaked. 

“You have been a very, very, bad girl.  You lied, then lied some more, and it took action on my part to finally have you own up.  Now you’re going to be dealt with.  And, Emily, just to be clear, I’m very happy to be doing this.  As far as I’m concerned you’ve needed a good spanking for some time.  Blog or no blog this was inevitable.”

“
Ooooh, sir,” she whimpered, knowing he was absolutely right.

When he started he wasn’t quite sure exactly how he intended to spank her, but the question was quickly answered.  The hairbrush seemed to make its own decisions as it slapped across her rump.  There was no target area.  Her entire backside felt the sting of the wood as it smacked down.  She was yelping and
ouching but her cries meant nothing to him, except that the paddling was having the desired effect.  She was being soundly spanked and her reactions simply confirmed the fact.  He watched with satisfaction as her skin turned a bright hot pink.  Several minutes passed until he paused and ran his hand across her cheeks.  They were burning hot. He was sure her bottom was stinging significantly.

“Well, Emily, what do you have to say for yourself?”

“Ooooh, sir.  I’m so dreadfully sorry.  My bottom is burning.  I know I deserve it, thank you.  I’m so sorry.  It hurts, though.  I mean really.”

“That is the point,” he remarked.  “Have you learned your lesson?”

“Oh yes.  Yes,” she cried.

He didn’t know why but her voice was telling him she needed more.

“I think you will rest for a minute or two, and then I shall spank you some more.  I’m not sure you’ve had enough.  Do you think you’ve had enough?”

“
Oooh, sir,” she wailed.  “I – uh – ohhhh…”

“I believe that means you don’t.  Is that correct?”

“Oooh, yes, sir.  It’s correct.”

“Good girl for telling the truth.  I agree.  I think you need more.  Catch your breath.”

He sat back and thought about it and looked down at the hairbrush.  Standing up he walked to the dresser and opened the drawer.

Oh no, what’s he getting.  He’s getting something else.  Yikes…

She heard him walking back and held her breath.  She could sense something... something she was not going to like.

“Alright, Emily.  I’ve made a decision.  You were right.  You have not been sufficiently punished.  What you did was shameful.  It’s one thing to be messy, not clean up, take off work – all those things – those things are worthy of the hairbrush.  But lying… deceiving me.  No.  The
hairbrush was a warm up.  I’m going to give you three strokes with the crop.  I’m very, very serious now, Emily.  It’s going to hurt like hell but I believe it’s exactly what you need.  It’s certainly the discipline I feel you deserve. Do you understand?”

Emily felt it.  She felt his energy.  His resolve.  And she knew he spoke the truth.

“Yes, sir.  I do,” she whimpered.

“Right.  Are you ready?”

“Oooh, yes, sir.” 

Scott placed the length of the crop just above the center of her bottom.  He tapped it lightly three times, then lifted it up and flicked it back down.

“AAARRGGHH!” she cried, and tried to wriggle but it was impossible.  The ropes were tied well and she was firmly secured. 

He waited a moment until she had composed herself, then placed the crop two inches below the first stroke, right in the center of her cheeks. Tapping it three times, same as before, he lifted it up and flicked it against her skin.  She wailed again, moving her head up and down. 

He waited, silent, until she settled, then moved the crop two inches down from the previous stroke, tapped three times, then let it fly.

She howled and cried out and howled, then finally stopped.  Scott heard her begin to cry softly. He quickly untied her and raised her up, returning her to her kneeling position and sat in the chair.

“Why are you crying?” he asked, reaching his hand out and smoothing her hair.  “Did it hurt that much?”

“Because I was so awful.  What I did was so awful and I’m so sorry,” she wailed.

He took a deep breath and brought her head into his lap.  He had been right.  She had needed the strong discipline very badly.  She had been filled with shame and guilt and his crop had released her.

“It’s ok, baby,” he crooned.  “I forgive you.  You’ve been punished, just as you should have been.  It’s over.  You were very bad, and now you’ve paid for it.  It’s over.  Everything’s ok.”

“Oooh, Scott.  I’m really, really sorry.”

“
Shhhh... it’s over.  Everything is fine.  It’s all fine.”

“I hate that stupid blog,” she cried. 

“No.  You hate that you didn’t tell me about it.  The blog is fantastic.”

“It is?” she sobbed, looking up at him.

“It is – absolutely fantastic.  I told you it’s fine with me if you want to keep going.  I just want to read each post before you upload.”

“Really?  You think I should keep going?”

“Sure.  But whatever you write, you know I’ll...”

“You’ll do?”

“Of course.”

She sighed and laid her head back on his lap.  Her bottom hurt terribly and she wriggled.

“Come on, little lady.  Time for bed.”

“Oh my bottom hurts,” she moaned.

“I’m sure.  As it should,” he replied, and helped her to her feet and into the bed.

Ten minutes later, the lights were out and she was cuddling next to him.

“Scotty?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Emily.”

“Scotty?”

“Yes.”

“I feel different.”

“Different how?”

“Better – like – everything’s going to be ok.”

He sighed.