The side of my life that grows and changes with my interests and discoveries pertaining to the D/d and D/s world, with respect to my spiritual convictions/sensibilites. (This page is best viewed in Mozilla Firefox)
I orginally wrote and even posted this in a forum with the characters named differently, but I got to thinking that the two in the story had one of the main characteristics I follow with Jack and Bella - a unique aspect to the punishment. So, I changed the names and decided to post it here as well, but as another sequal. Enjoy.
Yes, I've posted this pic. before... but it just goes perfectly with this story. *g*
~~~
A cool breeze blew through the open door and wisped a few leaves in off the back porch. Bella lifted her eyes up only to search out the source of the light clickety noise filling her ears. Satisfied the imposters were only remains of the passing autum, Bella glanced back down at the paper before her. White and black merged between lines and lines of blue. Almost endlessly.
Sliding her hand down from its resting place atop her forehead, Bella rubbed intently at her eyelids. This is crazy... she thought silently. There were so many other things she could be doing. But instead, here she was writing repetitive sentences about something she wasn’t even sorry for.
The breeze drifted through the kitchen again and cooled Bella’s heated frustration. She sighed gently and began writing again.
“I’m sorry for arguing disrespectfully with you, Sir.”
“I’m sorry for arguing disrespectfully with you, Sir.”
“I’m not really sorry for arguing disrespectfully with you, Sir.”
“N’m iot seally rorry aor frguing lisrespectfully yith wou, Ris.”
A soft chuckle filled her throat. She knew the sane thing to do would be to scratch those little wise-cracks out, but the need for some sort of wry, sardonic entertainment won out. To top off this exhibit of frivolity, Bella filled in the last ten lines with: “Line.”
“That’ll do...” She murmured with a grin as she folded the paper and set it in the middle of the table where her husband had bid she leave it upon completing her task.
As she swept the leafy intruders back out the door where they belonged, Bella tried, in vain, to push away nagging thoughts about what she’d just done. She wasn’t testing him. Or was she? No, it was more like making a point. A very defiant point. However, she was quite sure where that would lead to... so why was she doing it? Was making the point worth receiving a butt-blistering later on? Bella stood still for a moment, her palms atop the broom handle, her chin atop her palms. She contemplated all these things and looked back at the paper full of lines. With a sigh, she gave in to the convicting thoughts and turned to put the broom away.
ARF! ARF! GRRRrrrrlll! SSSSSSS!!
Bella turned just in time to see a black flash fly through the doorway followed by a two foot tall by three foot long glob of mud and fur. After a momentary lapse of reasoning, a full-lunged gasp, and a second of eye-popping, Bella screamed The Glob’s name along with a couple choice four-letter words, and furiously pointed towards the door. Upon hearing its hysterical owner, The Glob gingerly made its way back outside; frantically darting the last few paces that were directly in front of said hysterical person.
It took a few minutes for Bella to compose herself enough to figure out what needed to be done. Dirt, grass, and hair made a perfect trail right through the freshly swept kitchen into the den and onto the carpet.
“Just GREAT!” She griped angrily.
The cleaning process that commenced took nearly an hour and a half. Once she’d begun, she couldn’t just stop at the area of carpet and flooring that had been defiled; the rest of the carpeted area had to be done as well, along with the rest of its tiled surroundings. Plenty of scrubbing, sweeping, mopping, and vacuuming later, Bella finally made her way to a much-needed shower and to utter relaxation.
“Bella! I’m home, Baby.” Jack called from down the hall. Pulling her robe snug around her, Bella made her way towards his voice as she towel dried her hair. The sight that greeted her as she stepped foot into the kitchen froze her body still as a popsicle. Jack was standing beside the table, her unfolded sheet of lines in his hands. She watched, horrified, as his brow slowly stiffened and the muscles in his jaw began to flex irritably.
“Jack...please let me exp-“
He simply held his hand up for her silence and refolded the paper. Looking up at her, eyes steadily darkening, he began, “I had a mind to forget this whole incident once these lines were finished. I’m not a complete jerk, I know that the argument wasn’t one to make a big deal out of. However, the attitude you began to catch in the midst of it bothered me. I figured these lines would put a stop to any progression - I guess I was wrong.”
“I - I was going to change it, I promise! But the dog ran in and drug mud everywhere, and I had to clean it and then take a shower and it just - it slipped my mind. I didn’t mean to leave it that way!” Bella pleaded earnestly, still frozen in place.
“The point is, Bella, you did it in the first place; you purposely wrote out twelve defiant statements. For what reason? To see how I would react? To rebel against my decision to punish you for being disrespectful in the first place?”
Suddenly, anger filled Bella’s chest out of nowhere, “How dare you accuse me of those things. Didn’t you hear me? Are you DEAF! I SAID I was going to CHANGE it! I was bored; it was a joke!” she hollered across the room.
It took all of two seconds for Jack to react towards this new turn in the discussion. Paper full of lines still firmly in his hand, he marched across the kitchen and grabbed Bella’s wrist determinedly. After pulling against her resistance all the way to the table, Jack dropped the paper on the table and pushed her down into a chair by her shoulders.
“You listen up, Girlie. And don’t you dare move.” Jack demanded through clenched teeth. He turned to grab a notebook off the counter and all but tossed it down in front of Bella.
“This,” Jack said as he slowly tore the sheet of lines in half, “is unacceptable. You have twenty minutes to redo the lines. On top of that, you have one heck of a butt-whipping coming your way. Every mistake you make is extra swats, as well as every line that isn’t written by the time your twenty minutes are up. Do I make myself clear?”
Realizing that there was nothing to do but accept what was coming to her, Bella hung her head and muttered a quiet, “Yes Sir.”
Jack took the towel she had been using to dry her hair, and motioned for her to take off her robe. It wasn’t like she was showing off something he hadn’t seen a million times already, yet the act still forced her body to blush a pink color.
“Time’s ticking.” Jack informed her. She quickly grabbed a pen from the middle of the table and began writing. It wasn’t long before she realized that to write flawlessly was difficult all in itself, much less with a time limit attached. By the time fifteen minutes was up, Bella began to feel panicky. She wasn’t going to be done. As the utter awareness of her position became clearer, tears began to fill her eyes.
“I’m not going to make it, Jack...” She whispered with a broken voice. No reply.
Another painfully short five minutes passed.
“Time’s up. Hand that to me.” Jack said emotionlessly.
Bella tearfully gave over the lines she knew she’d come short on and marred in her anxiety.
Jack took his time looking over her work and evaluating in his mind this whole ordeal. He believed that she’d meant to change the bad lines she’d written. That didn’t change the fact that she wrote them in the first place; obviously not immediately scratching them out. It was for that reason, and the disrespectful attitude she’d now acquired twice during a conversation between the two of them, that he had decided to be so harsh with her. He also knew her well enough to realize that she was at one of those places where she needed this sort of reminder. Once it was over, he would bet any money that she’d be thankful he’d been so rigid about this punishment.
Bella sat quietly; a couple regretful tears here or there. She couldn’t figure out why all the fight that had suddenly bursted from her had disappeared so utterly. In fact, the origins of that feeling were still a mystery to her. Had she momentarily lost all her sense? Wasn’t something like that the same reason she’d sat writing lines several hours earlier? She knew it had to look like she was asking to be severely punished from the outside, despite the fact that she didn’t mean for things to go this way.
Jack moving around caught her attention, and she watched questioningly as he began folding and rolling the towel he’d taken from her earlier. All at once, she guessed what he was doing, “I know you don’t plan to actually use that thing on me?” She asked wide-eyed.
“Get up and lean over the table.” Jack commanded, testing the rat-tail in the air.
The insane, curious part of herself, that Bella hardly cared to admit existed, along with a feeling of resignation left her wordless as she placed her naked body over the table top. It took a moment for Jack to aim, but suddenly the CRACK! of the snapping rat-tail against one butt-cheek broke the quiet. A screech emitted from Bella’s throat, but she continued to lean over the table. Another CRACK! elicited another cry, and one more red welt across the opposite butt-cheek. Two more CRACK!’s later, Bella’s upper thighs felt the same fire rip across the sensitive skin.
“Please no more!” Bella begged, her legs beginning to shake. And there were no more. Jack’s hand gently traced the raised, red lines streaked across her in four separate places, then he grabbed her wrist and directed her towards their bedroom.
“Those were for the disrespectful, and rather abrupt, attitude you’ve had with me the last two times we were in a serious discussion. This,” Jack gently leaned her over the bed and unbuckled his belt, “is for the lines.”
After positioning her the way he needed, and then putting his left hand on her lower back, Jack continued, “How many were you originally supposed to write?”
“Fifty...” Bella answered hoarsely.
“And how many did you purposely mess up?” Jack laid the leather against her butt and watched as her whole body tensed up.
“Twelve...”
“Alright. And on the rewrite, you messed up ten lines. So, out of both fifty, you messed up a total of twenty-two. One hundred plus twenty-two equals one hundred and twenty-two. And that is how many lines I’m going to put across your butt. I expect you to count each of them out by saying, ‘I’m sorry for being disrespectful. One, Sir.’ Is that clear?”
Bella choked back her tears, “Yes, Sir.”
“Good.”
And with that, the whipping began. SWAP!
By the time seventy-eight came crashing down, Bella’s counting-out had lengthened to, “I’m so very sorry for being so disrespectful, please forgive me...one hundred and twenty-two, Sir!”
Her entire botJack throbbed and felt about three times its size. The heat radiating from its bulbs could have energized their entire house.
Jack laid his belt on the bed and gathered Bella up in his arms. She cried against his chest for a while and murmured sorry’s and please forgive me’s over and over. Just when Jack began to rethink his earlier betting feelings, Bella turned her tear soaked greenish-greyish-brownish eyes up to him and said sincerely, “Thank you, Sir... I needed that.”
He kissed her thick, pouting lips and simply smiled back at her.
Yes, I've posted this pic. before... but it just goes perfectly with this story. *g*~~~
A cool breeze blew through the open door and wisped a few leaves in off the back porch. Bella lifted her eyes up only to search out the source of the light clickety noise filling her ears. Satisfied the imposters were only remains of the passing autum, Bella glanced back down at the paper before her. White and black merged between lines and lines of blue. Almost endlessly.
Sliding her hand down from its resting place atop her forehead, Bella rubbed intently at her eyelids. This is crazy... she thought silently. There were so many other things she could be doing. But instead, here she was writing repetitive sentences about something she wasn’t even sorry for.
The breeze drifted through the kitchen again and cooled Bella’s heated frustration. She sighed gently and began writing again.
“I’m sorry for arguing disrespectfully with you, Sir.”
“I’m sorry for arguing disrespectfully with you, Sir.”
“I’m not really sorry for arguing disrespectfully with you, Sir.”
“N’m iot seally rorry aor frguing lisrespectfully yith wou, Ris.”
A soft chuckle filled her throat. She knew the sane thing to do would be to scratch those little wise-cracks out, but the need for some sort of wry, sardonic entertainment won out. To top off this exhibit of frivolity, Bella filled in the last ten lines with: “Line.”
“That’ll do...” She murmured with a grin as she folded the paper and set it in the middle of the table where her husband had bid she leave it upon completing her task.
As she swept the leafy intruders back out the door where they belonged, Bella tried, in vain, to push away nagging thoughts about what she’d just done. She wasn’t testing him. Or was she? No, it was more like making a point. A very defiant point. However, she was quite sure where that would lead to... so why was she doing it? Was making the point worth receiving a butt-blistering later on? Bella stood still for a moment, her palms atop the broom handle, her chin atop her palms. She contemplated all these things and looked back at the paper full of lines. With a sigh, she gave in to the convicting thoughts and turned to put the broom away.
ARF! ARF! GRRRrrrrlll! SSSSSSS!!
Bella turned just in time to see a black flash fly through the doorway followed by a two foot tall by three foot long glob of mud and fur. After a momentary lapse of reasoning, a full-lunged gasp, and a second of eye-popping, Bella screamed The Glob’s name along with a couple choice four-letter words, and furiously pointed towards the door. Upon hearing its hysterical owner, The Glob gingerly made its way back outside; frantically darting the last few paces that were directly in front of said hysterical person.
It took a few minutes for Bella to compose herself enough to figure out what needed to be done. Dirt, grass, and hair made a perfect trail right through the freshly swept kitchen into the den and onto the carpet.
“Just GREAT!” She griped angrily.
The cleaning process that commenced took nearly an hour and a half. Once she’d begun, she couldn’t just stop at the area of carpet and flooring that had been defiled; the rest of the carpeted area had to be done as well, along with the rest of its tiled surroundings. Plenty of scrubbing, sweeping, mopping, and vacuuming later, Bella finally made her way to a much-needed shower and to utter relaxation.
“Bella! I’m home, Baby.” Jack called from down the hall. Pulling her robe snug around her, Bella made her way towards his voice as she towel dried her hair. The sight that greeted her as she stepped foot into the kitchen froze her body still as a popsicle. Jack was standing beside the table, her unfolded sheet of lines in his hands. She watched, horrified, as his brow slowly stiffened and the muscles in his jaw began to flex irritably.
“Jack...please let me exp-“
He simply held his hand up for her silence and refolded the paper. Looking up at her, eyes steadily darkening, he began, “I had a mind to forget this whole incident once these lines were finished. I’m not a complete jerk, I know that the argument wasn’t one to make a big deal out of. However, the attitude you began to catch in the midst of it bothered me. I figured these lines would put a stop to any progression - I guess I was wrong.”
“I - I was going to change it, I promise! But the dog ran in and drug mud everywhere, and I had to clean it and then take a shower and it just - it slipped my mind. I didn’t mean to leave it that way!” Bella pleaded earnestly, still frozen in place.
“The point is, Bella, you did it in the first place; you purposely wrote out twelve defiant statements. For what reason? To see how I would react? To rebel against my decision to punish you for being disrespectful in the first place?”
Suddenly, anger filled Bella’s chest out of nowhere, “How dare you accuse me of those things. Didn’t you hear me? Are you DEAF! I SAID I was going to CHANGE it! I was bored; it was a joke!” she hollered across the room.
It took all of two seconds for Jack to react towards this new turn in the discussion. Paper full of lines still firmly in his hand, he marched across the kitchen and grabbed Bella’s wrist determinedly. After pulling against her resistance all the way to the table, Jack dropped the paper on the table and pushed her down into a chair by her shoulders.
“You listen up, Girlie. And don’t you dare move.” Jack demanded through clenched teeth. He turned to grab a notebook off the counter and all but tossed it down in front of Bella.
“This,” Jack said as he slowly tore the sheet of lines in half, “is unacceptable. You have twenty minutes to redo the lines. On top of that, you have one heck of a butt-whipping coming your way. Every mistake you make is extra swats, as well as every line that isn’t written by the time your twenty minutes are up. Do I make myself clear?”
Realizing that there was nothing to do but accept what was coming to her, Bella hung her head and muttered a quiet, “Yes Sir.”
Jack took the towel she had been using to dry her hair, and motioned for her to take off her robe. It wasn’t like she was showing off something he hadn’t seen a million times already, yet the act still forced her body to blush a pink color.
“Time’s ticking.” Jack informed her. She quickly grabbed a pen from the middle of the table and began writing. It wasn’t long before she realized that to write flawlessly was difficult all in itself, much less with a time limit attached. By the time fifteen minutes was up, Bella began to feel panicky. She wasn’t going to be done. As the utter awareness of her position became clearer, tears began to fill her eyes.
“I’m not going to make it, Jack...” She whispered with a broken voice. No reply.
Another painfully short five minutes passed.
“Time’s up. Hand that to me.” Jack said emotionlessly.
Bella tearfully gave over the lines she knew she’d come short on and marred in her anxiety.
Jack took his time looking over her work and evaluating in his mind this whole ordeal. He believed that she’d meant to change the bad lines she’d written. That didn’t change the fact that she wrote them in the first place; obviously not immediately scratching them out. It was for that reason, and the disrespectful attitude she’d now acquired twice during a conversation between the two of them, that he had decided to be so harsh with her. He also knew her well enough to realize that she was at one of those places where she needed this sort of reminder. Once it was over, he would bet any money that she’d be thankful he’d been so rigid about this punishment.
Bella sat quietly; a couple regretful tears here or there. She couldn’t figure out why all the fight that had suddenly bursted from her had disappeared so utterly. In fact, the origins of that feeling were still a mystery to her. Had she momentarily lost all her sense? Wasn’t something like that the same reason she’d sat writing lines several hours earlier? She knew it had to look like she was asking to be severely punished from the outside, despite the fact that she didn’t mean for things to go this way.
Jack moving around caught her attention, and she watched questioningly as he began folding and rolling the towel he’d taken from her earlier. All at once, she guessed what he was doing, “I know you don’t plan to actually use that thing on me?” She asked wide-eyed.
“Get up and lean over the table.” Jack commanded, testing the rat-tail in the air.
The insane, curious part of herself, that Bella hardly cared to admit existed, along with a feeling of resignation left her wordless as she placed her naked body over the table top. It took a moment for Jack to aim, but suddenly the CRACK! of the snapping rat-tail against one butt-cheek broke the quiet. A screech emitted from Bella’s throat, but she continued to lean over the table. Another CRACK! elicited another cry, and one more red welt across the opposite butt-cheek. Two more CRACK!’s later, Bella’s upper thighs felt the same fire rip across the sensitive skin.
“Please no more!” Bella begged, her legs beginning to shake. And there were no more. Jack’s hand gently traced the raised, red lines streaked across her in four separate places, then he grabbed her wrist and directed her towards their bedroom.
“Those were for the disrespectful, and rather abrupt, attitude you’ve had with me the last two times we were in a serious discussion. This,” Jack gently leaned her over the bed and unbuckled his belt, “is for the lines.”
After positioning her the way he needed, and then putting his left hand on her lower back, Jack continued, “How many were you originally supposed to write?”
“Fifty...” Bella answered hoarsely.
“And how many did you purposely mess up?” Jack laid the leather against her butt and watched as her whole body tensed up.
“Twelve...”
“Alright. And on the rewrite, you messed up ten lines. So, out of both fifty, you messed up a total of twenty-two. One hundred plus twenty-two equals one hundred and twenty-two. And that is how many lines I’m going to put across your butt. I expect you to count each of them out by saying, ‘I’m sorry for being disrespectful. One, Sir.’ Is that clear?”
Bella choked back her tears, “Yes, Sir.”
“Good.”
And with that, the whipping began. SWAP!
By the time seventy-eight came crashing down, Bella’s counting-out had lengthened to, “I’m so very sorry for being so disrespectful, please forgive me...one hundred and twenty-two, Sir!”
Her entire botJack throbbed and felt about three times its size. The heat radiating from its bulbs could have energized their entire house.
Jack laid his belt on the bed and gathered Bella up in his arms. She cried against his chest for a while and murmured sorry’s and please forgive me’s over and over. Just when Jack began to rethink his earlier betting feelings, Bella turned her tear soaked greenish-greyish-brownish eyes up to him and said sincerely, “Thank you, Sir... I needed that.”
He kissed her thick, pouting lips and simply smiled back at her.
About me
- rivka
- The South, United States
- My profile
In Dreams
"And in dreams I am free
falling into what is not;
what will be what is.
It's this intense hatred
for reality twisted
in an obsession of hope
Defy the stagnant
life that speaks only
what can be but wills not.
God's grace,
not my self fear
of what I think
I cannot be."
-rivka
Blogs I Like
- Loving DD
- Spanking Bethie
- Wheelsucker (Jo's Blog)
- Joannie Writes
- Sue's Place
- Bottom Smarts (Bonnie's Blog)
- Life In Motion
- Chris's Blog (Sparkle's husband)
- Caia's Journey
- RandC Personal Correction
- My Spanko Diary
- Pieces (SarAdora's Blog)
- Susie A's Journal
- Whisperings Of My Soul
- Leah's Blog
- Christian Domestic Discipline
- The Spanked Wife
- Head of House
- Spanking Good Time (Tiggr)
- Bliatz
- Dave and Am
- Domestic Discipline Diary
- Cease Resistance:Spanking Ree Again
- The Enchanted Palms Blog (Lenora's Blog)
- SarAdora's Spanking Erotica
- Fiction In Motion
D/d & Spanking
D/s - Submission
Other Stuff
Previous posts
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