#670) Not the Answer She Expected, Part II

(I felt that I finished with this tale, but the end was too ambiguous for some readers, who clamored for more, for a resolution. So, here it is; read it if you want the graphic details, a blow-by-blow, as it were.)
Tom patted the spanking bench.
“Now, get up on here and we’ll get started.”
Mary crossed the room and assumed the position desired by her Top, kneeling, elbows resting on the black leather padding, ass high in the air. She did this as if on automatic pilot; her mind was totally preoccupied with what Tom had said a moment ago. It was like she was in shock, her ears were ringing, time was moving in slow motion. Had he really said that, because her misbehaviors warranted it, he intended to give her “a good taste” of every implement in the room?
“Let’s give you a warm up, my dear…” he said in that low key, modulated, masculine voice that melted her. She felt his hand caress her buttocks briefly, then start spanking. The blows were brisk, smartly applied, made Mary start. She was just having to blink back tears when he stopped and rubbed some more.
She no sooner realized that his hand wasn’t on her ass any longer than she saw him cross the room and take the two leather implements down off the wall. Her peripheral vision spied that he kept the paddle in hand and put the short strap down.
Crack! A blow landed on her right buttock. Crack! And a second that made her left cheek sting. Crack! And one right across her ass crack, way down low, right where butt met thighs, so that she felt it in her pussy, in her anus. That really stung, Mary thought to herself…
The paddle was put down and the short strap raised. Crack! Crack! Crack! The exact same targets were bulls eyed with this leather tool. Tom hung them up on the all and opened the cabinet. A thick razor strap and a Scottish tawse were produced. Mary adjusted her position; her bottom already burned, and she knew that these two implements were lethal. She knew because she’d felt both before.
Smack! Smack! Smack! The razor strap cut a swath across both of her buttocks at once, each about two inches wide. The blows were administered parallel to one another, not overlapping, covering the expanse of bottom from crack under-curve, and they really burned. Mary re-gripped the edge of the bench.
SMACK! Damn, that tawse was so much worse! It was cut lengthwise into strips, and every one of those ribbons had edges that felt like they cut into her soul. She knew that the flesh had not been broken, but that it felt like it had been. SMACK! Another, harder stroke made her butt dance, and SMACK! Fuck, I’m glad that’s over with! Mary consoled herself.
Ever the neat-freak, Tom put these implements away, back in the cabinet. Oh hell, he was getting out some paddles!
“Tell me, Mary… do you think you took of your clothing properly?” he asked softly.
She looked across the room at the pile of clothes by the chair. Mary remembered the first time she had visited Tom, in his old dungeon, the one with less space and so many fewer implements, and how Tom had made her fold her removed clothing neatly, stack it in a precise pile.
“No, sir…” she said with a pained expression.
“No, me neither… A wooden paddle is the perfect implement to express my displeasure with you, punish you extra for such negligence…”
Whap, whap, whap, whap, whap, whap, whap, whap, whap, whap, whap, whap, whap! Her buttocks bounced and jumped and clenched and suffered under the tutelage of this light wooden tool with such a powerful impact. Tears were coursing down Mary’s other cheeks by the time Tom put this paddle down.
“Hop down, my dear.”
Whap, whap, whap, whap! “Listen, please! I want you to get down and stand on your feet and bend over this bench. The heavy fraternity paddle will demand that you have a better base of support…”
Dreading what was to come, Mary nonetheless obeyed quickly. She bent over and offered her wounded ass out submissively.
“Good girl,” he said, and Mary managed a slight smile, “now take it like a good girl…”
Mary closed her eyes. She could feel him tap her tush with the huge plank, even though her tush was nearly numb.
Oh fuck, oh fuck! That hurts so fucking much! Everything was trembling, her chin, her boobies, her screaming bottom, her knees; every part of her seemed to be trembling in-synch with her wracking sobs.
“May I rub, sir, please?”
“Yes, thank you for asking, rub for a moment, then lie down on the punishment bench, please.
Mary rubbed, but it didn’t seem to take any difference to her butt. God, she wouldn’t be able to sit for days… He wanted her on the punishment block. That meant he intended to restrain her down, that meant he planned to use implements where she couldn’t be trusted to hold still. The canes were next…
Mary laid down. As he bound her wrists, ankles and midriff, he spoke.
“I won’t use each of the canes that are made of the same material but are different lengths. I’ll be kind, and won’t even use canes of varying thicknesses. I’ll just use three long thin canes, a rattan, a bamboo, and a Malacca, just three strokes with each, the veritable ‘nine of the best.’ But for being so kind, I expect you to take the stripes well… and to learn a lesson from this…”
Yes, sir,” she whispered, her voice unable to speak any louder.
Whttp! THWACK! “Aaaah! Fuck! That burns so…!”
Whttp! THWACK! “Argh!”
Whttp! THWACK! “Mmmmmm!”
And the rattan cane was put back in the umbrella stand, with Mary feeling like a well chastised school girl, her sit-upon striped good and proper. She wished that she could’ve sucked-off the headmaster, maybe let him have his way with her up the bum, and thus be reprieved from the rest of her caning. But no buggering was in the offing. The worst was yet to come.
SWWWT! THWACK! The bamboo cane can cut a tender tush to ribbons unless used expertly. Tom was an expert. This stripe landed just millimeters below the last one, no overlap. Even though Mary’s bottom was nearly worn-out, this stripe hurt so much more than the last set. She sobbed silently but freely, her body shaking with the wracking cries.
SWWWT! THWACK! “OWWW! A moment… please, sir… to absorb…!”
Tom rubbed the welts, Mary gurgled and whimpered in agony, straining against her bonds. No sooner did the muscles in her impressively large and resilient buttocks relax than
SWWWT! THWACK! “Ummmmm… Thank you…!”
“Thank me when it’s over,” he said, and produced the Malacca cane.
The Malacca cane is what they use in third world countries to punish criminals, people who break religious laws, or have the audacity to think for themselves. Its application can make grown men, hardened miscreants cry-out like little babies. Mary only knew it by reputation, and having once seen the buttocks of another client of Tom’s who had first-hand experience with this very rod.
“Only three more… right?” she whimpered.
“If you take them well… If, not, there will be extras. I’d hate to have to use this on the backs of your thighs, or turn you over to use it on your nipples and clit…”
“…I’d hate that, too…” she whimpered earnestly. “I’ll be a good girl… please get it over with…”
SWISH! THWACK! “Mary and Joseph, that burns like motherfu…!”
SWISH THWACK! It was worse, rapid-fire, without time to digest and process the pain, but it was over. Mary lay there, limp as a wash rag, welted, tears still streaming from her eyes, but no sounds coming from her mouth. She realized that her Judas-like body had betrayed her and was spent, but still sexually excited. She would have loved for Tom to part her thighs and take her, right here bound to the bench, take her vaginally, hell, take her anally, just take her, make it human and personal and complete and closed. But she knew he wouldn’t do that, she’d asked before, and she knew he kept it professional, he kept it pure. She ached for it, but the longing desire would pass. She’d misbehaved and she’d answered for it. Until the next time.

5 responses to “#670) Not the Answer She Expected, Part II”

  1. This was an excellent sequel to the initial story. I loved the paddles section! (Thank you very much) That poor girl would be standing all day and sleeping on her tummy at night. I like that thought. Am I kinky or what!
    The wood in this story potentially creates a woody in people like me .
    Thanks bunches for an arousing story. I loved it!!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Jean Marie, I got as far as this… Crack! And one right across her ass crack, way down low, right where butt met thighs, so that she felt it in her pussy, in her anus. That really stung, Mary thought to herself…and could not get it out of my head!

    Perhaps that might be something we would do in that threesome you talked about so wonderfully yesterday?!

    Sophie x

    Liked by 1 person

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