A Lesson Learned

It had been a long day at work, far longer than usual. So much to do, and there were less than enough people to get it all done. Still, with a bit of extra effort, and by staying a little later than normal, it was all finally done. Sitting there, the low-pitched noise of the public bus a relaxing melody as the transmission lurched the machinated monster through its' gears. The dim lights gave the few people sitting nearby a tired, haggard look, yet still seemed to punctuate the public service announcements plastered over the seating areas. I was eager to be home, to strip out of the clothes I had been in for 12 hours, relax, and enjoy her company.

I had nothing special planned for the evening, just a bit of dinner, some wine, and a cozy evening in front of the fire. She had been such a good girl these last few weeks, and I was glad for another night without need to neither punish nor teach her a lesson. Just some quality time caressing her soft, smooth skin, enjoying its warmth and the way her body reacted to my light caresses. Lightly I sighed to myself, thinking ahead to how she would feel, what she might be wearing, the adorable way her demure blue eyes would flutter just a bit as she looked shyly down, sneaking glances up to meet my eyes.

**Her**

He was going to be pissed when he got home, but I didn't even care at this point. The day had royally sucked, and I felt I had every right to just screw off all damned day. I had done none of my usual chores, not the dishes, which still sat in the sink encrusted with last night's lasagna, not the vacuuming, nor the dusting. The laundry still lay piled in the corner, a slight sweaty odor wafting from it, and I hadn't even considered starting dinner. Hell, I hadn't even bothered changing out of the t-shirt I had worn to bed last night. Yep, he was going to go ballistic.

It had started shortly after he had left for work, the phone blaring through the lazy dream I was trying so hard to cling to. It was my mother, again, whining on and on about how my sister had gotten a promotion, was married with a house, nice car, and two "adorable" children. "Why aren't you working?" Her tone was both mocking and chastising at the same time, and I hated her for it. "Because I don't have too, and I don't bloody want to. I don't want kids yet, and just because you don't like how I live, doesn't mean I don't." I was quickly becoming agitated with her, she didn't ever seem to realize that I was 24 now, and living the life I had dreamed.

"Your father and I paid good money for you to go to college, and you waste it by not using your degree. Are you sure you're all right? Your not on drugs are you?" That worried, silly, condescending tone in her voice plucking my last nerve. "I never asked you to send me to that damned school in the first place. Yes I am fucking all right, and you know damned well I am clean, and have been for 6 years. I am happy and why the fuck can't you just be happy for me?" I had lost it, and was all but screaming into the phone now, manners be damned. Not paying attention to her sighs and protests, I slammed the phone down hard, and ignored her number for the next hour until she gave up, then erased her tearful messages on the voicemail.

**Him**

With a lurch, the bus stopped just down the block from my house, and slowly I rose and moved off of the conveyance, smiling softly to myself as I strolled home, whistling a simple tune. I didn't even notice at first that the porch light wasn't on, as it should have been, and slipped my key into the lock, turning it and the knob at the same time, to step into what should have been a lit foyer. The realization that something was not right slammed into my tired, cheerful mood like a ton of bricks, grating on my tired neck muscles as the little vein in my temple throbbed my edge of concern and displeasure.

She wasn't waiting in the foyer, so I hung my light jacket on the hook, and slipped off my shoes, wiggling my toes without though to stretch them out. Moving with purpose, I went straight to the living room, and stopped dead in my tracks. There she was, stretched out, still in her t-shirt from last night, two dirty plates in front of her. Looking around, I noted with growing anger that the shelves were still dusty, and the carpet lacked the tell tale lines from the Hoover in the closet. Sprawled on the couch, reading a book, I saw her eyes and head drop, looking down, avoiding my gaze. She didn't even speak, and I could almost see a slight tremble to her lips.

Without a word, I walked down the hall, pausing to look into the kitchen. Dishes still piled high in the sink, nothing on the stove cooking, and the oven off, I could feel my back and neck tighten quickly, and my heart rate start to climb. In a huff, I ascended the stairs, stalking like a raging bull into the bedroom, and glared around. The bed was unmade, and the laundry, which was supposed to be done today, was still piled in the corner, and I could smell the rank, musty smell rolling off of it. Yanking my clothes off and throwing them onto the pile, I slipped hurriedly into a pair of leather pants, and grabbed the flogger, slipping it onto the already attached loop at the waist.

**Her**

My heart skipped several beats as I heart his key in the door, and I considered running to the foyer, dropping to my knees and begging forgiveness. I was too terrified though, and still in a bratty mood. I could feel his gaze on my back, boring into me with anger and disappointment, and I knew I was in for it. I dropped my head and my gaze from the book I was reading, waiting for it to start. Then he walked away, the sound of his socked feet padding down the hall, pausing, then heading upstairs.

"Shit!" I thought to myself, knowing he had seen the dishes, the lack of dinner, and then the bedroom. I knew what to expect, and what was coming, and dreaded it, while at the same time being excited at the idea. I felt a little charge of electricity shoot through my abdomen, and the first hint of warmth between my legs. It was going to be a long, wonderfully uncomfortable night.

Knowing full well that he must be changing, I sat up, setting the book aside, and resting my hands in my lap. My head lowered, and my eyes cast fearfully, yet hungrily down, I awaited his return, heart fluttering and lip trembling. I sat there for what seemed an eternity, hearing nothing, hoping with all my heart that he wouldn't take long. I knew though that he would take his time, making me wait, drawing out my fear and anticipation, making me tremble with it.

**Him**

Sitting on the bed, collecting my thoughts, I waited, patiently letting the initial rush of anger pass, so I wouldn't lose control. I knew she was waiting, most likely fidgeting to hold her pouting, submissive pose on the couch. Fighting the smile on my face, I thought through what to say, and what I was going to do to punish her, knowing that at this point, she was being bratty for the sake of it.

I had a feeling it was coming, but was hoping that she would have held off till the weekend. She was never able to stay well behaved long; needing to let her inner child come out and earn her the punishment she craved and needed so badly. I knew her well at this point; we had been dating for three years, living together for the last two, since she had graduated college.

It was really a great arrangement, both of us getting what we wanted and needed from the other. I supported us both, my job more than paying for all that we needed, and she kept the house up, and tended to my needs as a master, while I saw to hers as my slave. Most of the time things went smoothly, as we discussed everything, leaving no secrets, no unspoken desires nor feelings. Most of our play was in the form of scenes, both discussed and planned, or impromptu as the mood struck. Every so often though, she would act out, her nature and desire to be truly punished for something she did flooding through her, and I would have to treat her as the willful child she became, breaking down her walls and bringing her to the deserved tears she ached for.

Finally, I decided I waited long enough, and rose from the bed, smoothing out the legs of my pants, and slowly walked out of the room and down the stairs. I found her just as I knew I would, seated on the couch, hands folded on her lap playing with the hem of her shirt, with her head down, striking red hair cascading down to frame her porcelain skinned face. Her toes were absently curling and uncurling, showing her inability to sit long without fidgeting, but I had to commend her, she was doing quite well.

**Her**

With a start, I realized he was standing in the doorway, and most likely had been for a few moments. I had been lost in reflection of my day, of past punishment sessions, and fantasies of what was to come. Fighting the urge to look up, to see his face and eyes, I spoke softly, almost pleadingly, knowing it would have no effect, "I'm sorry."

He said nothing in response, just standing there a moment longer, then moved to the couch, sitting slowly next to me, on my left. I felt the brush of leather against my leg, as his own leg came into contact with mine, and a spark of desire coursed through me, moistening my most secret places. Oh god I wanted him, wanted this, but the wait was killing me. How long would he draw it out this time before beginning?

**Him**

Waiting a moment, letting her realize I was there, I moved and sat next to her, on her left, letting my leather clad leg brush hers, seeing her tense, trying not to jump. Watching her a moment more, satisfied she wouldn't break position, and that she was all right, that some tragedy had not come to her attention to be the cause of her laziness, I reached up with my right hand and brushed her hair back behind her ear.

"Why aren't your chores done young lady?" My tone was commanding, even paced and deliberate, like a father chastising a young child. "I got in an argument with my mom this morning, and was angry all day. I'm sorry, sir." Her faltering, soft voice almost broke me, as it so often came close to doing, but I knew this game well, and would not relent. "That is no excuse. And you should not be arguing with your mother, she is, after all, still your mother. What do you think should be done about this?" Starting off in the same voice as before, but moving to a caring, sensitive tone with the last question, as I knew it would melt through her tough exterior, taking her to that little girl place in her mind she longed to be.

With a slight catch in her voice, she replied, in an even more little girl tone, which told me my ministrations were working. "I should be punished, and made to do the chores tonight." She almost sounded like she was going to cry, but I knew better, that it would take a lot more to coax the tears from her eyes and the balling from her lungs. "Yes, you should be punished, and I am going to punish you, and I hope that this time you learn your lesson. Now, over my lap." My voice went from calm, soft and soothing, to stern and commanding with the last line, making it an unquestionable command to action, then slid out to the edge of the couch so that she could drape herself over my lap.

**Her**

He was doing it again, and he did it so well damn him. I felt like I was eight again, a recalcitrant child about to be punished for staying out too late or hitting my sister. As much as I hated him for it, I loved it that much more, needing this, aching in all the dark, inner places of my mind and body to be transported back to my childhood, and be punished till I wailed away all the guilt, my backside at the least bearing the sting and ache of my transgression.

At his command, I slid off the couch, and pulled myself slowly, with much trepidation over his lap, drinking in the smooth, well cared for leather of his pants against my stomach, the heavy feeling of my weight pressing my belly into his lap, the tingling in my bottom in expectation. As he adjusted me over his lap, I could feel the obvious bulge in his crotch, pressing into my side, and smiled a bit to myself, a very naughty feeling smile, as little girls shouldn't think or know about such things.

I felt the cool air on my backside as he slowly lifted the hem of my shirt up, exposing my bare globes to him, and sighed ever so slightly, trailing off into a whimper, one of both trepidation and desire. I heard the sharp rush of air as he breathed in quickly, once again entranced with the sight of my milky white, well-formed ass, and almost giggled, hoping he took the shake in my body as a part of the frightful anticipation I was meant to be feeling.

Without pre-amble nor warning, his broad palm snaked down to land on my right cheek with a stinging slap, echoing through the room. The sudden surprise of it made me jump, and gasp, though it didn't really hurt. His hand lingered there a moment, seeming to almost want to rub and caress, but then withdrew, only to crash back down on the other side, another resounding crack as flesh met flesh yet again. With a shiver I closed my eyes, feeling like the little girl, almost ready to cry, but knowing it would be a while before the tears came.

**Him**

Her body pressing into my erection was nearly maddening, as was the sight of her beautiful ass, white as driven snow and smooth as glass, though now with matching hand prints on each cheek. Focusing myself with some great effort, I raised my hand and delivered another spank, fully enjoying the way her flesh gave in and rippled out, her body springing taught, her breath rushing in or out, depending on where in her breathing I caught her. My heart was pounding, my cock throbbing into her side, and my breathing already deep and heavy.

Deciding that warm up time was over, I quickly started into a steady rhythm of spanks, raining them down all over her amazing derriere, watching it blush to pink, then slowly to a deeper color, coming ever closer to red. I could hear her breathing becoming labored; feel her body wanting to struggle and protest. Small gasps and near grunts escaped her lips, betraying her effort to take her punishment stoically. I found my desire raising higher and higher, the sight of her beneath me, draped over my lap, taking what I gave her turning me on incredibly.

**Her**

My ass was heating up quickly, I had forgotten how good he was with his hand, and the heat was spreading swiftly, puffing my smooth labia, and moistening my insides. I felt so dirty, and so turned on, it was incredible, and I wondered why I had waited this long to earn another trip over his lap.

Soon I found myself occasionally grunting aloud, or even protesting the pain with an "Oooh" or and "Oww", and felt tears welling in my eyes. My legs started kicking slightly, grinding my crotch into his lap, even as I felt his throbbing erection press harder into my side, driving me wild. Behind and above me, I could hear his labored breathing, and his occasional grunt, and once an "Mmmmm". His excitement multiplied mine, and I started to feel like I was on fire.

I knew it was coming, that even as good as he was with that hand, I needed more than that to take me over, and dreaded it, even as I longed desperately for it. He stopped, rubbing my ass with his hand; sending sparks through me, making me push back into him. Then his hand was removed, leaving me writhing on his lap, hungry for more, yet terrified of that first contact, as I always was until it was past.

**Him**

Smiling, a broad grin splitting my focused face, I raised the flogger from my side and trailed the tails lightly over her enflamed ass, pressing myself into her as she moaned and twisted on my lap. Raising the implement, letting the strips of leather slide off of her skin, I flipped my wrist over quickly, snapping the tails down across the whole of her ass, bringing a delightful squeal of pain from her mouth, as her legs kicked out straight, her muscles rigid.

Waiting for her to relax again, trembling from the sensation and anticipation I began flicking the heavy buffalo hide toy repeatedly over her cheeks, marveling once again at the lovely fan-like pattern of red welts it quickly caused to rise on her flesh. Her legs were kicking wildly, and her cries of pained delight filled the room quickly, as the scent of her arousal rushed into my nose, forcing a moan from me.

I began slowly moving my aim lower, concentrating on the under-curve of her delightful ass, bringing a new level to her yelps and cries, the edges of the flogger beginning to strike her naked thighs, her legs flailing up and down, and open to closed. My heart-rate was through the roof, my breaths coming in long, effortful gasps, and my cock felt as though it would explode it was so hard, and the added pressure of her squirming against it was driving me insane, but I pushed on, driving the punishment home faster and harder on her willing flesh, moving to her thighs, eating the screams up as the tips wrapped around the inside of her thigh the first time.

**Her**

"OH GOD!" I screamed aloud as the tips of the flogger tails bit into the soft, sensitive flesh of my inner thigh, just below my dripping lips. Tears were streaming down my face, and I knew I was close to balling, desperate to reach that point, knowing I needed it, and that he would take me there, and bring me back. My left side was aching, his engorged cock driving into it, and would probably leave a bruise, but that only served to stoke my desire more.

The spiteful, stinging hide bit into my flesh over and over, and I knew I would not be sitting comfortably tomorrow, but it was beyond wonderful. I was close, so close to breaking down, if not cumming outright from it all, and I knew his desire was at least as much as mine, I could hear his ragged breathing, his grunts, and feel his eyes mentally eating me as he whipped me over and over. I could feel the sobs building in me as my throat tightened, my breath became harder to force in and out, and my screams echoed louder and louder, nearly deafening me.

Right before I broke down, he switched back to striking my distended ass, sending fire screaming through me, a pain like nothing else I have felt, and something inside me snapped. From somewhere deep in my belly came a sob, then another, and soon I was wailing and sobbing like a little girl, tears flooding my face while he kept whipping me. I became lost in the feeling, and the desire was burning there, just as strong, but on the back burner for the moment, as the release of the tears swept through me, cleansing me of all my guilt and stress.

**Him**

As the sobs she so needed took her, driving the pent up emotions, guilt and rage from her, I continued to administer the flogger for a bit, but stopped before her sobs did, setting the toy down and gently rubbing her swollen, fire-hot ass. I wanted to move her off of me, to take my pants down and fuck her right then, my need and desire so strong, it was hard to hold myself back. But this was what she needed first, her cleansing cry, her emotional release.

As she slowly came down from crying herself out, she began squirming on me, driving me over the edge of desire, and I pulled her up, kissing her hard, driving my tongue into her, and grabbing her hair roughly. I felt her hands at the buttons to my pants, and leaned back to allow her to get them open, and I pulled her head back, biting down hard on her neck, hearing her moan loudly, while I sucked on her neck.

Standing, I pivoted her, bending her over the couch, past waiting, still planning this as part of her punishment, and dropped my pants to my ankles, and slapped her hot ass again, relishing her cry at the impact. Roughly I moved behind her, grabbed her hips and thrust into her, moaning as I slid easily into her amazingly wet, ready hole, hearing her gasp out at the sudden force of it. Reaching up with one hand, I grabbed hold of her hair, and pulled it back sharply, while I started pounding into her, fucking her hard and strong, needing this as much as she wanted it, my passion too enflamed from spanking her to wait for pleasantries.