James pulled his car into the driveway, shut the engine off, and let out a heavy sigh. It was good to be home. Finally, after a truly rotten day, of a truly rotten week, and then battling the rush hour traffic for an hour and a half, he was home. Now he could relax.
The troubles of his work day were already being pushed to the back of his mind as he entered his home, his domain, his castle. He no longer had to perform, make any decisions, or take any action. Or so he thought.
The smell of dinner, cooking in the oven, greeted his senses immediately, and led him directly to the kitchen. "Hi honey, I'm home," he called out as he entered.
In his fantasies, he would be greeted by a seductress in a flimsy negligee and stiletto high heels. With luck, he might be met by a beautiful women in a sleek, sexy gown and pumps. Generally, he would be met by a slightly disheveled lady in a sun dress and slippers. He would settle for a harried house wife in blue jeans and tennis shoes.
The female he found there was wearing a Catholic high school uniform; a green plaid skirt, white blouse (that looked like it was a bit too small), white socks that came to her knee, and black and white saddle shoes. Her eyes showed fear and apprehension, her manner indicated reluctance.
"Mia, what is it?" James asked.
Mia bit her lip, turned her eyes to the floor, and thrust the paper she was holding in her hands out for him to take.
"Dear James," the letter, written in his wife's hand, began. Letters that began this way were seldom good news.
"Would you please take care of this naughty girl. She is sorely in need of an attitude adjustment."
James continued to read the note his wife had left, which detailed all the faults that Mia was to be punished for. The list was extensive.
"Mia, do you have anything to say for yourself?"
"No, Sir," she replied.
"You know that this is serious, don't you?" A small nod, barely perceptible, indicated the positive. "This isn't exactly how I wanted to spend my evening, you know." Another slight nod. "I really don't like doing this, but you know it is for your own good." Another nod, slightly more noticeable than the last.
"Okay, Mia! Well, let's get to it!" James pulled a chair into the center of the kitchen, sat down and motioned for Mia to take a position over his knee. She hesitated only slightly, as she knew she was going to end up there regardless, and delaying would only add to her punishment.
James adjusted her position, then raised the skirt up over her buttocks, exposing the plain white cotton panties that were also a required part of the school uniform. He contemplated pulling them down, but decided against it. They offered little in the line of padding, and there was no need to compromise her modesty.
Mia gasped as his hand came crashing down upon her buttocks, sending a shock wave all the way to her brain. As the blows continued, she clenched her ass cheeks tightly together in a vain attempt to lessen the pain, and tried to remain stoic. But as the torrent of blows continued, and various spots on her buttocks were hit for the eighth, ninth, and even tenth times, the pain grew to an intolerable level and she started to struggle.
James had no trouble overpowering her, easily pinning her in place despite the kicking squirming she was doing. Sensing that her attempts at escape were futile (not to mention unwise, should she succeed) she shifted her tactics towards pleading.
"Owwwwwww, Stooooppppp, Plleeeasssee!" Mia wailed.
"Oh, we are far from done!" James assured her as he laid on a quick volley of extra hard swats. "But I am going to give you a while to reflect on the spanking you just got, and to think of the one you will get after I eat my dinner."
"No, please!" Mia begged. "No more, I can't take any more!"
"Oh, you are going to get more, that is for sure," James said as he yanked her to her feet, then propelled her roughly into the corner. "So you just stand there and face that corner and think about it!"
While Mia rubbed her buttocks in a attempt to relieve the sting, James set about serving himself some dinner. At least his wife hadn't skipped out on cooking, as the pot roast that was in the oven was first rate. Too bad Mia wouldn't get to share it.
It wasn't long before Mia's thoughts turned to other things besides just the pain in her ass. Time seemed to stretch out forever, and facing the corner was such a bore. She knew better, and it wasn't as if this was the first time she had been facing that exact corner, under almost exactly the same conditions. But a force that she was unable to control compelled her to turn her head and look back.
"Mia!" James scolded as he jumped to his feet, forcing his chair to slid back several feet.
Mia snapped her head back into the corner, but it was too late. Her heart sank and she nearly burst into tears when she heard the few quick steps across the kitchen, then the "shwink!" as the wooden spoon was pulled from the holder next to the stove. She knew what was coming next, and tried to press herself farther into the corner, as if by doing so she could somehow escape her immediate fate.
The footsteps approached her now, and then there was a hand grasping her arm, yanking her from the corner, thrusting her toward the counter. Mia knew from prior experience that no amount of begging and pleading would prevent the onset of the paddling with that dreaded wooden spoon. Only by cooperating could she lessen the duration and extent of what was surely to come.
James pushed her up against the waist high counter, forcing her upper body down against the cold, hard tiles. James lifted the hem of the skirt, doubled it in half, and tucked it into the waist band.
"Noooo, Please!" Mia wailed as she felt the tug on her panties. She tried to press her hips against the counter, trapping the fabric in place. But it was to no avail, as the material slipped out and her panties were soon around her knees.
She was hoping that he was going to scold her for moving out of the corner, lecture on about how she needs to follow orders, do what she was told, and not to act so foolishly. She would have welcomed anything that would have stalled the inevitable. But it would have just been covering old ground, repeating the same things that had been said many times before. It was not like she could have really forgotten.
"IIIEEEEE!" Mia screeched as the flat of the spoon smacked against her bare buttocks. Any forgotten portions of previous lessons were quickly coming back to her now.
Again and again the spoon struck, resulting in a loud verbal complaint from the recipient. Mia's panties had now fallen to her ankles, effectively hobbling her and preventing her from kicking her legs. James's hand in her back prevented her from rising up out of position.
Her hands were free, and despite her better sense, she used them to cover her buttocks after a mere dozen swats. James simply targeted a spot a little lower, moving down to the crease between buttocks and thigh. Mia moved her hands to cover this even more sensitive area, which simply moved the target lower still.
When her hands could no longer reach the target area, better sense prevailed, and she moved her hands to the side. James accepted the original target again, and renewed his efforts. Alas, searing pain clouds judgment, and after only 5 more swats, Mia covered her buttocks once again.
This time the target didn't move. After three swats had been delivered to the palm of each hand, Mia decided that perhaps it wasn't a good idea after all. When all else fails, she decided, it was time to beg and plead.
"OW, OW, OWWWWWW, PLEASE STOP!" Mia wailed. "Oh please, oh please, oh please!"
"Now, get back into that corner!" James said as he relented to her pleas.
Mia shuffled back into place, careful not to lose her panties as she went. It was likely that she would get to pull them back up at some point, but only if they were still with her.
"Here!" James said, as he thrust the note that started this lesson ahead of her into the corner. "Your nose is to hold this paper in place. If you touch it with your hands, or let it fall, you'll get ten times what you just got!"
Mia pressed her nose into the corner with much more force than entirely necessary, primarily because she was afraid that her involuntary sniffles might cause a more gentle touch to allow the paper to drop. She had failed at this exercise once before, and she knew that the threat was not an idle one.
Time really dragged by slowly now. Once her breathing was under better control, Mia relaxed the pressure holding the paper in place, easing the discomfort in her nose. Her eyes were totally useless, as her entire vision was limited to a blurry image in front of her. As the pain in her buttocks subsided, she became aware of the sounds around her; the ticking of the clock in the next room, the hum of the refrigerator, and the occasional scrape of a fork against a plate.
James ate his dinner at a leisurely pace, while keeping a constant vigil on the miscreant in the corner. In order for the punishment to be effective, it had to be absolute. It was necessary to not only inflict a deterrent, but also to break down any remaining resistance. He could tell that Mia wasn't done yet. Her rebellious spirit would be her downfall, he just had to give her enough rope to hang herself.
Mia knew that she was being watched. She figured that he probably enjoyed staring at her bare buttocks as she stood there. Mia found herself getting sexually excited with these thoughts, and she slowly started moving her hands from her side to the front. She thought that her body would hide her actions, and if she moved slowly, he would never notice.
It seemed like an eternity before she had worked her hands into position over her crotch. At last she was able to spread her labia with one hand, and slip a finger from the other into the moist inner regions. With the smallest of motions, Mia stroked her clitoris, relieving the boredom and turning her thoughts to much more pleasant things.
"What do you think you are doing?" James asked softly.
Mia froze, praying that he couldn't have really seen. "Uh, nothing!" Mia lied. She moved her hands away from her crotch ever so slowly, hoping to avoid any sudden movement that would draw attention to them.
James got up from the table and strode quickly over to her corner. He grabbed her forearm and twisted, forcing her hand up into the middle of her back, then bent over slightly and sniffed at her fingers.
"I thought so!" James exclaimed as he landed a solid swat on her buttocks. "You weren't made to stand in that corner so that you could play with yourself! You were supposed to be thinking about all the bad things you have done, and how much better you were going to be in the future. But now I can see that you need a little more help in your concentration!"
"No, please! I will be good, I promise!" Mia pleaded, while keeping her nose pressed tight into the corner.
"Too late for that!" James replied. "Now, you run to the bedroom and get the hairbrush off my night stand. And for every second it takes you to get back here, you will get an additional lash with the belt. Now GO! ONE! TWO--"
Mia frantically turned from the corner, and immediately fell to the floor, tripped by her panties that were still around her ankles. In her haste to recover her feet, she managed to tangle the fabric around the heel of a shoe, further restricting her motion. After some frantic kicking, she managed to free one foot, scrambled to her feet and ran off towards the bedroom with her panties draped around the other foot.
"ELEVEN, TWELVE," James continued to count, speaking loud enough so that Mia could hear. As he counted, he pulled a chair into the center of the room, and sat down to wait for her return.
"SEVENTEEN, AND EIGHTEEN!" James announced as Mia came sliding to a stop in front of him, holding the wooden backed hairbrush out in front of her. "OK, across my knee."
Mia paused only briefly, for she knew that a severe penalty would result from any form of resistance. She knew that it was going to be bad, but there wasn't anything that she could do that would make it any better. She waited in dreadful anticipation as her skirt was adjusted, providing unobstructed access to the entire buttocks.
"IIIEEEEEE," Mia cried as the first swat landed. The next nine swats brought similar protests, as Mia fought hard to maintain some level of resistance, while James fought equally hard to break it.
"No, please, stop!" Mia begged after the eleventh swat, switching to the tactic that had proven effective in the past. This time, however, it didn't work, as James delivered another ten stinging blows while Mia begged and pleaded for him to stop.
After twenty blows, Mia was getting desperate. She alternated between screaming in pain and pleading for him to stop. She was kicking her legs and pounding the floor with her fists, and squirmed about on his lap so much that he had to fight just to keep her in place.
After thirty swats, Mia started to cry. At first, it was just a small whine in amongst her pleas, but by forty, it was a genuine, tear gushing wail. This was the point that James knew he had to bring her to. He had to break down her defenses, destroy her bravado, and strip away her resistance.
After James delivered the fiftieth swat, Mia laid limply across his lap and cried. Not the false tears that she offered up before, but the breath robbing, deep sobbing, emotional release cry. James set the hairbrush aside and rubbed her buttocks gently until she regained her normal breathing.
"That was for your own good, you know."
"Yes, Sir," Mia acknowledged. "I'm sorry, oh so sorry!"
"There, there. It's OK now," James assured her.
"I'll be good, I promise I will!" Mia assured him.
"I know you will." He knew she would, too. At least for a while. He doubted that this would be the last time an "attitude adjustment" session would be necessary, but it would keep her in line for a while. "Now, stand up and bend over the counter."
"Oh, no! Not the belt! Please, not now!" Mia pleaded as she got to her feet.
"No, you have 18 coming, and you are going to get them. Now, count them out, and don't move out of position or we start over." James knew that this was as important a part of the punishment as the previous step had been. Any last remains of her resistance had to be flushed out.
Mia bent over the counter, and waited for the first blow to land. She could hear James unbuckle the belt, and the soft "thwap" as it cleared each belt loop. Then a "clink" as James wrapped the buckle end around his hand. Then the "Swish", an instant before her buttocks erupted in flames.
"IIIEEEE!" screamed Mia. She danced about for a few moments before responding. "That's one!"
Swish! Another blaze of heat and pain, another scream, more dancing, then "That's two."
Swish! "IEEEEE! Oh, God, NO. Please," Mia wailed, delaying the count for as long as she thought she could get away with. By not counting, she delayed the next swat, giving her more time to recover. But waiting too long could result in a swat that wasn't counted. "Oh, that's Three!"
Swish! "ARRRUGGGH! Oh, that's four. Oh, please, wait, no! ARRRRUUGGG! That's five!"
Again and again the belt was swung, bringing forth untold amounts of pain, a cry, and then a count. After the tenth, Mia buried her face into her arms, which muffled her screams of agony, and made her count barely recognizable.
James was about to deliver the fifteenth blow, but then stopped suddenly. "Shhh," he said.
Mia silenced her crying the best she could, and then she heard it too. A rustling sound coming from the front door, and then the unmistakable sound of a key in the lock.
James quickly pulled Mia's skirt down over her buttocks, and then started threading his belt through the belt loops. Mia stood, glanced around, and grabbed a dish towel to dry her tears. James was just buckling the belt, and Mia smoothing the pleats in her dress, when the front door opened.
"Nikki! We weren't expecting you!" James called out.
"Hi Dad!" the young college student called out as she dropped her bags in the entry way. "I didn't have anything going on, and a friend was coming this way, so I thought I would come home for the weekend."
Nikki rushed up and gave her dad a big hug, then repeated the show of affection with her mother, and then stepped back with a puzzled look on her face.
"Say, Mom, why are you wearing my old uniform?"
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