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“Shit!” I muttered, walking into the apartment and smelling what was obviously rotting garbage. I dropped my backpack full of work and my purse on the dining table, and moved to pull the offending and overflowing bag from the plastic wastebasket. I pulled the drawstring and set the bag in the linoleum-floored hallway to be taken out. I pulled a new bag from beneath the sink, and shook it out angrily. I put the new bag into the garbage can and set the can back into place. I blew out an annoyed breath, hearing His key in the lock.
I opened the refrigerator and took out the thawed chicken thighs. I dropped them onto the kitchen counter with a thud, hearing “Hi, honey. I’m home!” as He walked through the door.
“Hi,” I replied, half-heartedly, taking the kiss He placed on my lips. I took His lunch bag and His jacket from Him and began the nightly rituals. I arranged His jacket on a dining room chair so that He would not forget to take it the next morning. I fished out the garbage from His lunch bag and made to put the dirty Tupperware into the dishwasher. ‘Dammit!’ I thought as I realized the dishes in the machine were clean. It had not been emptied.
I heard the distinct sound of the electronic handshake between our home PC and the Internet and let out another annoyed breath. ‘One … two … three …’ I began to mentally count, hoping this would calm me down and release the anger that was slowly beginning to boil. It was not working. ‘God, I want a cigarette!’ I thought. I was 10 days into being smoke-free, and was having trouble with the psychological withdrawal. I wore the nicotine patches to abolish the cravings, but the habit was still firmly entrenched.
I opened the dishwasher again and began to empty it. I was not at all happy about doing it! This was HIS job! The rule was, “You cook, I clean” regardless of who had done the cooking. I had done the cooking the night before, and had amicably tidied up the kitchen, knowing that His side job had left Him exhausted. After working a straight eight at His regular job, He had gone to the home of a friend to finish the electrical wiring in her new kitchen. He had spent a good four hours there. A twelve-hour day was enough for anyone, and at the time I had not minded taking care of the dishes. However, it was an unwritten rule that whoever left last in the morning would either run the dishwasher or empty it. As I had an early meeting to take minutes for, He had been last that morning. Yet, here I was, emptying the damned machine!
I was obviously making too much noise with the chore, as His next words made me realize.
“Something on your mind, baby?” He asked. He asked this question when I started throwing attitude and making my dissatisfaction known through little actions like banging pots and pans. He had come up behind me, and was snaking His arms around my waist as I sorted silverware.
“It’s just been a long day,” I sighed, continuing with my chore. He kissed the back of my neck, and as He pulled away, swatted my backside smartly.
“Ow!” I responded softly, making Him chuckle.
“I figured as much with the noise you’re making. Sorry about the garbage. I’ll take it out after dinner,” He said, eliciting another heavy sigh from me. He was also searching for the real reason behind my attitude. He knew that there was something else going on and He would continue to play the guessing game until I was ready to ‘fess up. He went back to the PC and began to go through His e-mail. I blew out a breath, and reached into the pantry for my apron. Now that the dishes were cleaned up, I went about making another mess fixing dinner.
I turned on the boom box in the kitchen and tuned it into rock and roll. I was not in the mood for anything else as the anger and annoyance continued to push my buttons. I pulled out the electric frying pan and set it up, covering the bottom with oil and setting up the breadcrumbs and seasonings for fried chicken. I set another pot filled with hot water on the stove and lit the burner beneath it.
“Hey, baby! C’mere and look at this!” He called out, obviously referring to something He had received via email. I sighed yet again, putting aside the red potatoes I had been chopping, and moving into the living room to look at whatever it was.
“Hmm,” I commented, leaning over a bit to look at the PC screen. A graphic photograph of a woman in a compromising position filled the monitor screen. So what? I thought. “Interesting.”
“EddieJ, of course,” He said, letting me know His cousin Jerry had sent the photo.
“Of course,” I replied straightening up to move back into the kitchen. He reached out and pulled me between His legs. I knelt so as not to be above Him, and looked up questioningly. He extended one leg over my shoulder, and said,
“Please.” I knew He was asking that I assist Him in getting undressed, beginning with His work boots. I reached out and untied the boots, and tugged them off. I removed his socks as well, and dropped them near the boots. I raised up on my knees and reached to pull first His phone, then His lighter pouch and tool pocket from His belt. I set them aside and unbuckled His belt and then pulled it through the loops. I moved forward and worked the buttons on His work shirt loose, tugging the tails from His pants.
“Sure there’s nothing on your mind, sweetheart?” He asked, pulling me close to kiss me. I took the kiss, hoping to melt some of the anger that was plaguing me. I shook my head as I pulled back and gave Him a small smile. I was hoping but unconvinced that I had reassured Him. The kiss had done little to improve my mood.
He stood up and pulled me up with Him. I removed His work shirt and waited for Him to remove His glasses so that His undershirt could also be removed. He did so, and I pulled the shirt over His head. He turned His back to me and I reached around front to undo the button and then unzip His pants. He let them drop and stepped out of the pool they had made on the floor. I bent down and picked them up, turning to retrieve the socks as well. All were destined for the laundry basket. He reached out and again landed a stinging blow to my backside. I straightened up in a hurry, rubbing at the spot as I moved to the bedroom to drop the dirty clothes into the basket.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” He said as I moved past Him again and into the kitchen.
“You’re welcome,” I replied, picking up the chopping knife and resuming dinner preparations. I heard Him pull out His Zippo and light a cigarette. I turned the radio up just a bit and hoped for a decent tune to come on. I desperately needed something to lighten my mood and get over the petty annoyances that were mounting up and building a piss-poor attitude. I knew that if I did not fix the problem soon, it would become His problem, and I knew exactly what HE would do to rid me of a negative demeanor.
He continued His email perusal as I dropped the potatoes into the water to boil and began seasoning and breading the chicken for frying. One of my favorite tunes finally came on the radio and I began to move my feet and hum along. ‘Maybe this will work,’ I thought to myself, again hoping to lighten my mood. I did not like feeling resentful or annoyed by petty issues. I could usually get over it. The nicotine withdrawals and my hormones were making everything bigger than life the last two days, and they were making it nigh on to impossible for me to shake ANYTHING off. It had been that way at the office as well. And aside from all of THAT, He had been working so hard the last two weeks, with regular 8 hour shifts, over-time and then working on Barb’s kitchen every other night. I sighed, trying to get into the music.
“Would You like a beer, sweetie?” I asked Him as I moved to the refrigerator to pull out the butter and milk for mashed potatoes.
“Yes, please and thank you,” I heard Him call out. I opened one for the both of U/us, and took His to Him, lime firmly in place. I set the bottle down and turned to go back to the kitchen.
“Cassie Lee, are you going to tell me what’s got you upset sometime tonight?” He asked, reaching out to tug me back to Him. I swallowed and nodded, not looking at Him. I could not even hedge the truth if I looked Him directly in the eye. He stood up, putting firm fingers beneath my chin. He urged me to look at Him, giving me that knowing look over the top of His glasses.
“Cassie Lee?” He said, His voice brooking no nonsense. I sighed, and said,
“It’s nothing, really. Just a long day and idiots everywhere.”
“Including right here? In your own home?” He asked, a small smile shaping His sexy lips. I shrugged and looked down, not wanting to spoil O/our time together with petty concerns. He had told me so many times to just get it out in the open, no matter how trivial I thought it was, but … I hated that I could not just shake it off and not let it get to me. I felt it showed me up as petty in His eyes, regardless of the fact that He categorically denied that statement. I felt the pressure of His fingers making me look up at Him again.
“Cassie Lee, if there’s something you need to say to me, just spit it out. If you insist on letting it fester, you’re gonna start throwing me attitude and that’s NOT gonna be good. Capisce?”
I nodded, but could not bring myself to whine about these petty little annoyances. I told myself I could move on and shrug off the peevish details. He kissed me briefly and I smiled a small smile.
“OK. Just watch the attitude, little girl,” He warned. “You know what that gets you. Don’t you, baby?” I nodded again and turned as He released me. He went back to the PC and I went back to dinner.
I knew very well what that would get me. The last time W/we had this discussion, it had been patently one-sided and I had been left stinging, sore and sniffling. I had said some rather disrespectful things to Him, sarcastic and rude, and He had marched me into the bedroom, and put me in the corner. He had yanked my skirt up and my panties down, spanked me briefly and smartly with His hand, and then left me to think about the more severe and intense spanking that was coming. My disrespectful attitude and my stubborn refusal to communicate the annoyances that had led to that disrespect had earned me a good, hard, bare-ass spanking with several of the more painful implements in His arsenal.
It had not been the first time I had thrown that attitude nor had it been the first time I had refused to tell Him what was on my mind and upsetting me. There had been other discussions and other spankings. Each time He had to punish me for the same infraction or offense, the spankings got longer, more intense and more painful. This issue was no exception. That thought had crossed my mind, but I had discarded it, sure that I could throw off the anger and aggravation that was threatening my composure.
I continued with dinner, putting the browned chicken into a dish to be microwaved and draining the water from the now softened potatoes. I dumped the potatoes into a bowl, and began to add the butter and the bit of milk. I added some chopped garlic and salt as well, and set the bowl aside. I popped the microwave open and after covering the chicken with a paper towel I set the plate inside and turned the machine on.
A slow, blues tune came on the radio just then and I hummed along, setting the table. I was swinging my hips to the beat and as I turned to walk back into the kitchen, He caught me up in His arms and danced me a bit around the dining area. I smiled up at Him, and He smiled back, leaning in to kiss me. I took the kiss and felt the ever-present desire begin to swirl in my blood. He kissed the side of my neck, and the feeling intensified.
“I love my Sunshine,” He murmured, and I whispered back that I loved my Master. “You know I’d do anything for you, don’t you, baby?”
“Yes, Master,” I said, stepping back and looking up into His sincere blue eyes.
“Then I hope you’ll share what’s up with you tonight, honey. If you’re angry with me, or upset about something I’ve done, just spit it out. Got it?”
“Yes, Master,” I said, stepping further back and turning to go back to the kitchen. “Thank You, Master,” I added as an after-thought, moving to finish setting the table and getting Him something more to drink. The microwave told me the chicken would be another 4 minutes and so I had just enough time to mash the potatoes.
“Can I help, baby?” I heard Him call out.
“No, thank You, Master,” I replied, hearing Him still tapping those computer keys. Must have been a load of mail in His in-box. Even something as trivial as that somehow irked me, I noticed. I let out a long breath and concentrated on the potatoes, thinking ridiculously in my head that somehow THIS would show Him! I swallowed the last of my beer quickly and set the bottle back into the six pack from which it had come.
The microwave beeped just as I finished opening His second beer for the meal and setting it on the table. I pulled the plate out of the oven and set it on the counter to cool. I added the salt and pepper to the table along with butter and a napkin apiece. I put the now cooling chicken onto two separate plates and set them on the table. I moved the bowl of perfectly mashed potatoes to the center of the table and added a larger spoon to the bowl.
“Dinner’s ready, Master,” I told Him, realizing that He was still either looking at email or surfing the Net. Either way, I fumed inwardly at having to wait yet again, second to a machine! I shook my head inwardly and tsk-tsk’d myself into letting go of the attitude about these mundane, petty grievances. I took a deep breath and felt my muscles relax.
“Be there in a minute, baby. Just got to log out,” He told me. I sat back, and took another deep breath, finally feeling as if the frustration was at its end.
Then I realized that I had not poured myself anything to drink. I had made a habit of pouring either beer or soda into a wine goblet or frosted mug rather than drinking out of the bottles at dinner. I got up and moved to the kitchen, reaching into the refrigerator for a cold soda. As I moved back to the table, I twisted the cap and the bottle virtually exploded, fizzing out from the top, over my hands and onto the floor.
“Shit! Godammit!” I shouted, moving quickly back to the kitchen and tossing the bottle into the sink.
“Relax, baby, relax!” He chided, moving quickly in to help me with the problem. “Are you alright?”
“Yes!” I spat out, truly angry now on top of the frustration I had been feeling all day and most intensely since arriving home. I rinsed my hands, and pulled a handful of paper towels from the spool on the counter, tipping that over in the process. I set the spool back into place with a bang! and was on my knees, blotting the spill and feeling the angry tears begin to flood my eyes. I bit my tongue in an effort to keep them at bay.
“Please, baby, relax. It’s all good,” He told me, reaching down to massage my neck and shoulders. I sat back on my heels and closed my eyes, allowing His touch to soothe at least the wildest of savage beasts in me. He took the soaked paper towels from me and tossed them into the wastebasket. He reached down, taking my hand and urging me to stand back up. He pulled me into His arms, and held me against Him, hugging me hard.
“Better?” He asked, pulling back to place a soft kiss against my brow. I nodded, not truly feeling much better, but coping now with the soda snafu. “Good! Have a seat. Let me get you another pop, my love,” he offered, moving into the kitchen to do just that. Now I really felt terrible, being so peevish about the stupid things that I was miffed about, and Him being so sweet. He brought the soda to me, already opened, and poured some into the glass I had set by my place.
“Smells delicious, baby. Thank you for cooking,” He said, sitting down and reaching over to take my hand, squeezing my fingers tightly.
“You’re welcome, Master,” I said softly, looking down into my plate. How could I be mad about ridiculous things that didn’t matter when He was so good to me, and so understanding and sweet?
“Hey! Mashed potatoes! Garlic even! That’s my job! What’s up with that?” He asked, taking up the bowl and serving us both. His grin did not mitigate the annoyance I was still feeling about the things that had been left undone. Bringing up the potatoes as HIS job just lit the fire again.
“You were busy, Master,” I said, still not looking up from my plate. He set the plate down, and pushed my chin up so that my eyes met His. His eyes narrowed and then He cocked His head to one side and said,
“I DID ask if I could help, Cassie Lee,” He said.
“Yes, Master, You did,” I said, lowering my eyes and taking my bottom lip into my mouth and biting down hard.
“It IS my job, little girl,” He stated, looking at me intently.
“Well, that’s…” I left off and did not finish the peevish thought about His not having done anything that was His job at all in the last twenty-four hours and so I thought the potatoes would be the same scenario.
He knew I was holding something back. “C’mon, now. Spit it out! This about the garbage?”
“And the dishes,” I said. Picking up my napkin and placing it in my lap.
“Hmm. Now I’m beginning to get the picture,” He said, taking a mouthful of chicken and potatoes and leaning back, chewing leisurely. I took a bite of chicken and said nothing.
“C’mon. Get it out of your system. I know you’re dying to say something!” He was almost egging me on, daring me to say something sarcastic or disrespectful.
I shook my head, and concentrated on cutting up the chicken.
“Cassie Lee, tell me what’s on your mind, and I mean now!” He insisted, reaching over to take a firm hold of my left wrist. I swallowed hard and finally said, my voice small,
“Well, it’s just that You haven’t seemed to want to do any of the things that are supposedly YOUR job in the past couple of days. I just assumed that the potatoes would be the same deal.” His chuckle in response confused me. I chanced a glance up at Him and looked into His deep blue eyes. He smiled at me, and my confusion increased. He let go of my wrist and sat back. He took a sip of His beer and stroked His chin methodically.
“I see,” was all He said. “Cassie Lee, what have I told You about telling me what’s on your mind?” He asked quietly.
“That when You ask, I need to tell You,” I replied, knowing without knowing where this was going.
He took another bite of dinner and chewed slowly. He leaned back again, and said,
“And is that because I want to know every little thought that goes on in that sweet, little head of yours?” I shook my head, knowing that was not the reason.
“Then why, little girl?” He asked, again taking a bite of his chicken.
“Because You truly want to know what I’m thinking and if there’s anything wrong.” My voice was small, and I swallowed hard again. He nodded, taking a swig of His beer.
“Tell me why I want to know about that, baby,” He asked, cutting into His second piece of chicken. He did not comment on the fact that I had not touched my dinner since the first bite, but I knew He had noticed.
“So You can fix the problem,” I said, taking a small sip of soda.
“Exactly right. Now, tell me what happens when you don’t tell me what’s on your mind, but let it simmer and boil,” He said, His voice taking on an edge I knew all too well. Damn! I had done a piss poor job of reigning in the attitude. And I had been thinking I was doing so well!
“I start to develop an attitude,” I said, my throat so dry and making it sound like a croak.
“Yes,” He drawled, and I licked my lips. “And you’ve developed quite the little attitude over my slacking, haven’t you, little girl?” He sat back completely now, wiping His mouth with His napkin and setting it aside.
“Master, I…”
“Cassie Lee, I don’t want to hear excuses or explanations or lies. Just ‘fess up,” He said,
His voice now hard as stone.
“Yes, Master,” I said, my voice barley a whisper. “But I did try, Master!”
“Everything but the one, simple way that will ALWAYS prevent this, Cassie Lee,” He admonished, and I bowed my head. It was true. If I had just told Him what was bothering me…
“What happens when you throw me attitude, miss?” He asked, His voice again hard.
“You punish me, Master,” I said, biting back the tears. I HAD tried to nip it in the bud.
“Right again. Go to your room, miss,” He ordered. I looked up, hoping to somehow way-lay the inevitable. He was already rising and taking up His plate. I swallowed hard and stood up, moving to the bedroom. I knew what was expected, and I knew that this was going to be a long, hard spanking. I had yet to learn this lesson.
I moved to the corner between His dresser and the closet, and faced the wall. I tugged my skirt up to my waist and my panties down to my knees. I put both hands behind my back, clasping my arms as close to my elbows as I could manage. This was how He expected to find me when He sent me to my room.
“Very good, miss,” He said as He came into the room. I could feel Him behind me, tucking the hem of my skirt into the waistband. I shivered, knowing what was next; a warm-up.
“Cassie Lee, how many times have I already punished you for attitude and disrespect?” He wanted to know. I swallowed hard. I could feel His heat next to my naked ass.
“I don’t know, Master. But more than You should have had to,” I said sincerely.
“Absolutely. Many many more times that I should have had to. You should have learned this lesson by now. What happens every time I have to discipline you for the same issue, little girl?”
“You add swats and implements, Master,” I said, knowing that there would be at least six if not more, and probably 15 with each tool.
“Yes. But you know what, miss? This time is going to be different. I’ve decided that since I don’t seem to be making an impression by increasing the intensity of the spanking, I believe I am going to have to actually train you to speak your mind. And to defuse the attitude before it ever escapes and makes us both miserable. And that training’s going to start right now. Bend over!” I felt a shiver of fear run down my spine as I did as He asked. I bent over at the waist, pushing my bare behind out to be spanked. He grasped my wrist where one held my arm and drew back the other arm.
“Ow!” I complained at the first sting of His hand against my bare flesh.
“This, as you well know, is just the beginning, little girl!” SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! “This is your warm-up!” SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! “Once I get your disobedient little ass the shade of red I want,” SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! “You are going to stand in this corner, skirt up, panties down, your stinging, hot little ass hanging out and think about what comes next!” SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! “Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Master,” I croaked, feeling the burn of each smack hard.
“Good!” SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! “And you will then listen, and listen well while I outline the training you are going to begin tonight! Is that clear?” SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“Clear, Master!” I gasped, feeling the sting turn to heat and then to ache as He continued to rain down blows.
“Good!” SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! “Now, straighten up, please.”
“Ow!” I yipped softly, feeling that last swat smartly. I straightened up, and resisted the urge to rub at the sting to soothe the reddening flesh.
“Now, sweetheart,” He began, reaching out to stroke the now on-fire cheeks of my ass. I moaned softly as He squeezed the tender lobes. “I’m not sure WHY you haven’t responded to the punishment you’ve taken for your attitude, but as of today, it doesn’t matter. Because you WILL respond to this training, you WILL learn to speak your mind, and you WILL learn to adjust that bratty little attitude BEFORE it becomes a problem. Do you understand me, Cassie Lee?”
“Yes, Master,” I told Him sincerely. I wanted to be able to do that for Him, for U/us.
“Good girl,” He said sweetly, softly stroking my backside and actually soothing the sting. I wondered at this, knowing that He was soon going to have me over the end of the bed, renewing and enhancing not only the sting, but the shade of red He had created on my ass.
“Would you agree that what you need most with this is an immediate attitude adjustment? I mean, the minute you feel it building, a swift swat to keep it in check?”
“Yes, Master, but…”
“The Yes, Master, will do, little girl. With that idea in mind, I think I may have a way to firmly plant the idea in your mind. You won’t end up with a physical swat, but I think by the time we’re finished with the training, it will be an instant mental SWAT! And you will respond just as if you HAD been spanked. Instant attitude adjustment! What do you think?”
“Um … I think if it works the way You say it will, Master, it’s a wonderful idea,” I said sincerely, wondering just what He had in mind.
“Good! Now, you know that THIS punishment is not over, don’t you, miss?”
“Yes, Master,” I said, hanging my head to think of the next hour or so, filled with being spanked, and spanked hard, and then made to stand in the corner to think about what had gotten me in this position, not to mention the next round of spanking.
“Good girl! We’re going to finish this up, my love, and then, we’re going to start all over again.”
“Ohhhh, noooo!” I groaned softly, knowing that I wasn’t going to sit down for over a week as it was!
“Yes, baby, all over again. You’re going to pull your panties back up, and your skirt back down. You’re going to go back out to the table and finish your supper. Then we’re going to do the dishes and put the leftovers away, watch Jeopardy, watch the news, neck, make love, whatever. Do what we do. But just before bed,” His voice was matter-of-fact and even, low against my ear as He moved in to press His hardening cock against my still-stinging ass. His hands moved up to cup my breasts, and as He kneaded them gently, I could feel myself beginning to get wet.
“I’m going to tell you it’s time to get ready for bed. You’re going to go to your room, and do what you do to get ready for a spanking. Go to your corner, make that ass naked, and wait for me. Are we clear so far?”
“Yes, Master,” I whispered, groaning as He continued to stroke and kneed my breasts, and wishing there was a way to get myself out of the situation I had gotten myself into. More spankings. Probably more implements or just the ONE dreaded one, and most certainly more swats. My backside ached and throbbed just thinking about it.
“I’m going to give you the warm-up spanking with my hand like I always do. And then you are going to stand there with your bare, just-spanked ass hanging out, and you’re going to think long and hard about why you are being punished. You’re going to think about the disrespectful way you behave when you toss off attitude. You’re going to think about the fact that when you don’t tell me what’s on your mind when you’re asked, you’re disobeying me. You’re going to think about the fact that your attitude usually comes from all those little things you don’t tell me when I ask you what’s up. And you’re going to think about the fact that not learning how to, #1 speak your mind, or #2 tame that attitude from numerous previous spankings has set you up for even more, longer, harder spankings. Do you understand, Cassie Lee?”
“Yes, Master,” I said, still on my way to being breathless with what He was doing to not only my breasts now, but my pussy as well. One hand had dropped to between my legs as He spoke, and His fingers were now stroking the increasingly moist, turgid flesh.
“Good girl. Once I think you’ve thought long and hard enough about these issues, I’m going to spank you again with my hand just as a reminder. Get that blush and that sting going again. Then I’m going to move you over to the bed, bend you over the end, and spank your ass hard and long with the leather paddle. I’m not going to say how many swats because I don’t want to limit the effects. I’m simply going to spank you until you either call “red” or your ass shows any signs of beginning to bruise. Do you understand me?” I groaned in answer and felt the sting of His hand
“Answer me, Cassie Lee.”
“Yes, Master, I understand.”
“That’s better. Good girl. Now, once that part of the punishment is done, you’re going to stand back in that corner until I tell you to come to bed. Got it?”
“Yes, Master. Master?”
“I’m not finished yet, miss. When I’m finished letting you in on this training idea, THEN you can ask questions, capisce?”
“Capisco, Master.” He stopped the tortuous stroking and tweaking of my nipples and pulled His fingers from my now dripping pussy. He stepped away and I heard Him light a cigarette. He blew the smoke out smoothly and stepped up behind me again. He put the lit cigarette to my lips and I drew on it deeply.
“Thank You, Master,” I said, blowing the smoke out.
“You’re welcome, Pet. You’ve taken this all very well so far. Thank YOU,” He said, and I knew He meant it. He was always appreciative of obedience and undivided attention.
“Now, you’re going to go through this ritual and spanking scenario every morning as well as every night.” He gave me a swat for my groan of misery. “Cassie Lee, pay attention, now. You’ll get up with the alarm, make sure the coffee’s brewing, and the PC’s firing up. When you come back to your room, you’re gonna go straight to the corner. You’re going to make that ass naked again, and wait until I get up. Got that so far, little girl?”
“Yes, Master.” Morning and night? Every day? For how long? I was wondering if I could take it twice a day every day and for how long. And what if I screwed up somewhere along the way? Did that mean more spanking that night? Or a separate punishment from the dailies?
“I’ll give you the warm up spanking first, then you will be in your corner until I’m through looking at my email. It won’t be too long because we both have things to do in the morning. Then I’ll come back in, take you over my knee and give you the training spanking with the hairbrush. Again I’m not gonna give a number on the swats. I’m simply gonna spank you with that hairbrush until you either call “red” or I start to see potential bruising. Understood?”
“Understood, Master.”
“Good girl. If there is something you need to be punished for on a particular day, I’ll add those swats with an implement to the warm-up. Is that fair?”
“Yes, Master.”
“We’re going to go through this training exercise for 7 days, Cassie Lee. If at the end of that week I don’t feel there’s been a true change of heart and true effort on your part, we’ll go through three more days. And I’m going to keep extending it until I’m satisfied that you’ve learned how to speak your mind and tell me what ails you, little girl. I want that bratty little attitude in check. Understand me?”
“Yes, Master,” I said, my voice now quivering. Oh, my God, I thought. He may just get me to tears with spankings after all!

“Cassie Lee, are you sure you’re going to be alright with this training scenario?” He asked quietly, snaking an arm around my mid-section and pulling me against Him. I swallowed hard. “I want to know what you’re thinking, baby.”
“Master, I don’t know if I can take that much! I mean, twice a day, every day for seven days straight? And if You won’t stop until I bruise, then…” I could feel the tears in my throat threatening to burst forth at the mere thought of this happening.
“Sweetheart, I did say I would stop if you called “red”. You can call that anytime. You know that.” His lips were tender at my throat. “And I think that would be a good lesson for you, too. To learn how to tell me when it’s too much. You’re not very good about that.”
“Well, it never mattered before now. I guess if I can stop it anytime I want, I could do that,” I said quietly, loving the feel of His arms around me, and His lips so soft against my skin.
“Anything else? Is it fair?”
“I guess so,” I said, my voice still small.
“No, Cassie Lee, no guessing. Either it is or it isn’t. Which is it?”
“It’s fair, Master,” I told Him. I wasn’t completely sure that it was, but I couldn’t pinpoint why it wouldn’t be. I did deserve to be punished for my recurring attitude. I also wanted to be rid of the peevishness and the pettiness that always seemed to develop the dreaded attitude. I hated that about myself. I had to wonder, however, if this was the method to cure me, or if it would only serve to strike fear in me to even be thinking anything disrespectful or petty.
“Why don’t I believe you, little girl?” I bit my lip and had to ask.
“Open forum, please, Master?”
“Open forum,” He agreed, turning me around and sitting us both down on the bed. I winced and He smiled, reaching out to stroke my cheek.
“A bit tender are we?”
“Yes, Master,” I told Him honestly.
“Open forum, Cassie Lee. What’s on your mind? This will be a good test for you,” He said, giving me His over-the-glasses look.
“Well, I just have to wonder if this is the best way to go about it. I’m thinking it could only make me afraid to even think anything petty or disrespectful.”
“And how is that a bad thing, little girl? If this makes you think twice before throwing me attitude, it’s a good thing, I say!” He said, grinning at me.
“But … I thought You didn’t want me to be afraid of You!” I said, truly wondering about the effectiveness of this “training”.
“I don’t want you to be afraid of me, Cassie Lee. I just want you to think twice before you make the decision to give me attitude. You think it’s going to make you walk on eggshells around me?”
“I think that’s possible. I guess I have control over that, too, though,” I said quietly. I bowed my head, realizing that with all of the issues, I had final and ultimate control.
“You’re absolutely right on that one, baby. You do have the hammer,” He told me, reaching down to turn my face to His. He looked into my eyes, and I could see the love and the devotion as clearly as if He had stated it outright. “All I want is for us to be happy, little girl. And I know that getting rid of the attitude problem will make us both happy. Am I right to assume that?”
“Yes, Master. I DO want to make attitude and pettiness a non-issue.”
“Okay, then. Let’s give this a try. We’ll keep talking about it and if we decide together that it’s not working, we’ll move on to something else. K?”
“K,” I said meekly.
“Back to your corner, baby,” He instructed. I still had the harsher part of the initial punishment to go. I got up and moved awkwardly back to my place in the corner. My panties were still at my knees and my skirt still tucked into my waistband. This made walking almost comical. I was always surprised when He didn’t laugh at that.
“Good girl. Bend over, please,” He said, again grabbing my arm as I grasped my elbows. I did so, and He applied His hand numerous times. “Just to bring back the sting and the glow, Pet. I’ll be back,” He assured me, leaving me there again to think about my attitude and my disrespectful behavior.
I thought about how this new training idea would go and shuddered inwardly to think of the numerous spankings I was in for. I decided that I would be extra vigilant about the attitude and about following every one of the rules so as not to incur more swats. Once a day with the leather paddle and then again that same day with the hairbrush was all I believed I wanted to handle. Of course that was not even taking into consideration the warm-up spankings with His hand. I sighed in resignation, realizing I had brought this on myself. If had simply done what He had asked, none of this would be an issue. I supposed it was my rebellious side, and perhaps even a bit of the Domme side that wanted ultimate control, that were rearing their ugly heads and getting me in trouble. I would watch that too.
I heard and felt Him return to the room, and walk up behind me.
“Have you given your behavior some thought, Cassie Lee?” He wanted to know.
“Yes, Master,” I told Him honestly.
“Good!” He took hold of my arms and gently tugged them apart. He guided me to the bed, and urged me to bend over the end for the rest of my punishment spanking.
“You know why you’re being punished, don’t you, Cassie Lee,” He stated rather than asked.
“Yes, Master. For my piss poor attitude and my disrespectful behavior,” I said, turning my head to one side so that He could hear my responses and my audible reactions to what He was about to inflict.
“Yes,” He drawled. “We’re going to cure you of that eventually, little girl. You WILL learn how to curb that nasty little attitude and your stubbornness. I want to hear what you’re thinking and how you’re feeling. Communication, communication, communication, baby,” He scolded.
“Yes, Master,” I agreed, hissing in a breath as He began with the sorority paddle. He gave me ten swats across the broadest part of my ass with the thick wooden tool, and then put it back in place.
“How many implements this time, Cassie Lee?” He asked. I tallied up the number of times I had already been spanked for attitude and came to six. This meant that He was to use at least 7 if not more.
“Seven, Master,” I said meekly, splaying my fingers so as not to make fists. That was a definite no-no.
“Very good. Here’s #2,” He warned, and I felt the wooden cutting board, recently repaired from the split my ass had caused the last time He had used it.
“Ow!” I spit out, making the same sound with each of the ten swats.
“Are we going to at least make an attempt to curb that bratty little attitude, miss?” He asked, replacing the cutting board on the wall.
“Yes, Master, I promise!” I told Him.
“Good!” He took hold of my arm and pulled me up to a standing position. “Corner, miss,” He ordered and I moved cautiously back to stand facing the wall. “Hands behind your back.” I complied. “Good girl! Think some more about what kind of things got you here, Cassie Lee.”
“Yes, Master,” I replied, hearing Him move back to the living room. My ass was now on fire and I wanted desperately to rub it to soothe that sting. I resisted; knowing that disobedience at this point was going to garner me nothing but more pain. I thought too about why I continued to allow little insignificant things to bug me. He was so very good to me; so loving and sweet. He deserved to get my very best always, and I simply was not squelching the automatic response to frustration when things did not happen the way I wanted them to. I behaved like a spoiled brat throwing a tantrum. I was always careful not to be that obvious and blatant about it, but that was also where I got myself into trouble.
“Thought some more about that “letting- it-pile-up” issue, miss?” He asked, moving to stand behind me again.
“Yes, Master,” I told Him honestly. He tugged at me to bring me back to the foot of the bed.
“Assume the position, miss,” He ordered, and I bent over the end of the bed again, spreading my arms and fingers out.
“And now we come to number three,” He warned again before the first swat. I heard and then felt the pop of the other wooden hairbrush from the toy chest.
“OW!” I cried out as the last of the blows stung my already heated backside.
“So, are we going to make an attempt to tell Daddy what’s bothering us? And not bottle it all up?”
“Yes, Master,” I swore to Him, hearing Him choose the next tool from the chest.
“Good! Number four, miss.” I heard the swish and knew the biting sting of the leather, riding crop next. I sucked in an audible breath and held it until the tenth blow had landed.
“And are you going to remember what’s expected when I tell you to get ready for bed tonight?”
“Yes, Master. I’ll remember,” I said, raising up just a tad as He landed the first swat with the wooden spoon. He was quick with those blows, and I heard Him toss the tool back into the chest.
“That was number five, miss, and this is number 6,” He told me, wielding the Ping-Pong paddle swiftly.
“Ow…” I complained softly, again spreading out my fingers so as not to make fists. He chuckled, thinking it amusing to hear my delayed and weak little response to swats.
“Now, number 7,” He told me, and I heard the whoosh! and then felt the thud of the flogger. “Are you going to remember what is expected tomorrow morning too, miss?” He wanted to know.
“Yes, Master, I promise I’ll remember,” I said, moaning my actual pleasure at the thud rather than sting of the leather weeps against my already on-fire ass cheeks.
“Good girl.” He finished the ten plus a couple of bonus swings with my favorite tool, and then I felt the cool of lotion being squirted onto the reddening flesh. He began to smooth the salve over the tender flesh and I hissed in appreciation of the care He was taking. “Now, are you hungry, baby?”
“Yes, Master. Thank You, Master,” I said, realizing that I truly was ravenous.
“You’re welcome, sweetie. Let’s get you put back together so you can have your supper.” He helped me to stand and then pulled my panties back into place. I hissed at the contact against my throbbing and stinging ass. He smiled and pulled me close for a kiss as He tugged my skirt back into place. “You know I love you more than anything, don’t you, baby?” He asked.
“Yes, Master,” I told him truthfully.
“Good! I do love you with all my heart. And I only want us to be happy, honey. I think this will work. And I also know you’ve been feeling neglected where spankings are concerned. This can take care of both those issues.”
“Thank You, Master. I think it might work if I’m smart enough to remember to call “red” when it gets to be too much!”
“Yes,” He drawled. “Think you’ll remember?”
“I think so, Master, ” I said, smiling up into His incredibly deep blue eyes.
“You made some excellent fried chicken, baby. Let’s get you your supper,” He urged, tugging me along back to the dining room.
I sat gingerly, allowing Him to heat up my now cold plate of food, and serve me. When He felt the need or the desire to serve me this way, I struggled to allow it. As His submissive, it was my job to serve Him. It was always just a bit of a stretch to allow Him to serve me. I was getting better at it. At least this time I did not allow it to create attitude. He put the plate in front of me, poured me another beer, and sat down to join me.
“So … am I on the top of your shit list for slacking in my duties, sweetheart?” He asked, smiling crookedly at me. I chewed thoughtfully, and then swallowed.
“My Love, You are never on my shit list. I just allowed this stuff to get to me. I was being selfish and not wanting to take up the slack. It’s been a busy week and I hated adding to it. Sometimes all I want to do is slide into a hot bath and drink a slow beer.” I shrugged. “Unfortunately, that’s the Master’s prerogative. Not mine.”
“Oh, no, no, no! That’s just not true, baby. If that’s what you need after a long day, all you have to do is say so. I can take care of things off turn just like you do. And I can take care of you just like you take care of me. There’s no rule against that.”
“Nope. And I want you to start telling me THAT too. Hear me? If you’ve had a frustrating day and all you want to do is veg when you get home, by all means, do that. Just tell me that vegging’s what you need. Baby, I am NOT going to have you resenting every little thing you do for me. That’s only going to grow attitude, which is exactly what I am trying to eradicate! Tell me, please, what you need. Let me take care of you, too. OK?”
“You know that’s hard for me, Master,” I said, taking another bite of what was decidedly great fried chicken.
“Get over it! New rule, if that’s what it takes. You need to veg, I wanna know about it. You need a hot bath? Absolutely go for it. I’ll even bathe you, if you like. Got it?” That look over His glasses made me understand that He was completely serious.
“Got it, Lover,” I said, smiling at Him. He was the sweetest man I had ever known, and I did know that He would gladly do anything for me. He had proved that over and over again. He watched while I ate, and W/we talked more about O/our days and how they had gone. W/we laughed about some of the idiotic things people had done throughout the day, and took that mood into the kitchen to clean up.
“Hey, little girl, you cooked, I clean. Please go and sit down,” He demanded.
“Um, sitting is NOT on my hit parade at the moment, Master,” I teased, and He laughed. He reached out and turned me around and shoved me towards the living room.
“Get on-line and check your e-mail, sweetie,” He suggested. Hmm, I thought. Must be something He sent that He wants me to see.
I went to the PC and clicked into my e-mail. There was an electronic greeting card from Him, and I pasted the URL to click onto the site. I opened the card to a blues tune, and watched as the scantily clad and intimately bound Titian-haired female appeared. The text read, “Your Master loves you with all His heart and wishes for you to return to the bedroom for the beginning of your training. Go to the corner as we’ve discussed, get ready for the spanking, and wait for me. In other words, my Sunshine, DING, DING, DING and a half. Loving you, Master Zom.” I had to smile. I clicked out of the email and moved into the bedroom. The “DING”s referred to the new system He had devised that informed me of impending spanking activity. The same bell W/we had used in O/our collaring ceremony served to call me to pre-determined positions. I was not completely thrilled with this particular turn of events, but I would do as I was told.
I went to the corner, again tugged my skirt above my waist and my panties to my knees. I put my arms behind my back, doing my best to grasp both elbows. I waited with baited breath, not at all sure what to expect with this training. Of course He had told me what He planned to do, and I was sure it would be close to what He had outlined. Still, He was always improvising, and I could never be 100% certain. I do not know how long I stood there, but as always, I felt as well as heard Him join me.
“Sunshine, you are doing so well,” He said quietly, moving in behind me. He cozied up against my naked and still stinging backside. He had removed His clothing and was heatedly and excitingly hard. “I’m impressed. I’d been thinking I was gonna have to train you in so many ways, and now I’m not so sure you need training in obedience,” He said, His voice sweet and sexy against my ear as He kissed my neck, all the while kneading my breasts with both hands. I growled my arousal deep in my throat and felt His fingers grab a handful of my hair. He tugged my head back and firmly kissed my lips, pushing His tongue into my mouth. I groaned again, kissing Him back.
“Bend over, please, my love,” He asked, pulling back slowly from the kiss that had left U/us both wanting more. I did as He asked, and felt His hand come down hard.
“Ow! Mmm,” I groaned, feeling the sting combine with the kiss and making my liquid insides begin to drip.
“This is just the warm-up, now. Remember that, miss,” He said, raining down somewhere between 20 and 40 swats. I could feel the sting build again into a throbbing ache and the blush again heating up.
“Yes, Master, I remember,” I whispered, groaning again as the pain turned to pleasure.
“Good girl. Straighten up, now, Pet,” He urged and I did so, feeling again the desire to simply turn, drop to my knees and take His hard-on deep into my throat. “Stay right where you are, exactly as you are, and think about attitude and stubbornness. Think about what those two things got you, my love.” He whispered this last close to my ear; His lips a breath away from my neck, making me tingle.
“Yes, Master,” was all I could whisper as He moved away. I stood there and again thought about how I was going to operate from here on in. I would be ever vigilant about immediately telling Him what was on my mind, should He ask. And even if He didn’t ask, I would volunteer what I was thinking. That would release the petty annoyances that mounted up and caused the attitude to build. My thinking these things was OK, but the end result, the bratty attitude, was NOT OK, and that was what I needed to guard against. So, getting it all out into the open was going to be my number one priority, I decided.
As I continued to stand there, I began to feel what the sting of His hand against my already throbbing flesh had begun to create. The heat was intense and crept ever closer to my pussy. That fire had begun to melt my insides like butter on a hot biscuit and that butter was now beginning to drip. I felt the wetness between my legs and a flash of instant desire ripped through me, making me shiver.
“Little girl, are you cumming?” He asked, having crept up behind me like a thief in the night. I leaned back against His chest as He wrapped His arms around my waist.
“No, Master, but I am getting wet,” I told him softly, taking the kiss He insisted on my lips.
“Oh, no, not THAT!” He chuckled, pulling back and taking my wrist in a firm grip. He tugged me over to the bed, and as He sat down, pulled me across His lap. “Part 2 of the training, Cassie Lee,” He informed me as I adjusted my body to lay comfortably over His knee. I hissed and then moaned as I felt the first blow of the wooden hairbrush laid against my still stinging ass.
“Remember what you’ve been told about this part, miss,” He admonished, laying down four more blows in quick succession.
“Yes, Master,” I groaned. “Ow!”
“You WILL learn to say what’s on your mind, won’t you, Cassie Lee,” He stated rather than asked, laying down three more swats.
“Yes, Master,” I croaked, thinking I could take maybe four more.
“And you WILL learn how to curb that bitchy little attitude, won’t you, my love,” He again stated rather than asked. His arm was poised to deliver the next blow and as I answered Him, He administered four more rapid-fire spanks.
I groaned, and as the last swat landed, I yelped.
“Oh, ow! Red, Master! Please…” It felt as if there was already going to be a bruise at that spot, and I definitely wanted Him to stop.
“Of course, Pet. Always. All you ever have to do is call “red”.” He assured me, allowing me to stand up. “Bend back over so I can start your cool down, baby,” He urged. I did so, and almost immediately felt the cooling of the lotion against the fire He had created.
“Now, was that so hard, baby girl?” He asked, making me groan each time He smoothed over that last swat.
“No, Master. With that last swat, it was ‘way easy,” I told Him. He laughed, and bent down to kiss the spot I had mentioned.
“Well, that IS going to leave a mark. But, if you’re a good girl, I promise to make it up to you,” He told me. He reached down and tugged my panties all the way off and my skirt back down over my hips. He unzipped the garment and tugged it off as well. “Up on the bed, little girl. Daddy’s gonna make it up to you,” He ordered. I did as He asked, hissing at the pain laying down on my backside caused.
“Oh, please be OK,” He grinned, leaning down to kiss me. I kissed Him back, and was almost sad when He pulled away. He tugged my thighs apart and moved up onto the bed. He laid down, His head between my legs, and began with a sweet, soft lick.
“Will this be a good way to make it up to you, Sunshine?” He asked.
“Oh, yes, Master. Perfect!” I assured Him. And it was … oh, it was!

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