A Mistress and Her Slave...This Blog is the ficional story of a mistress and her slave. Mistress Nichole came to the lifestyle somewhat unwillingly, but learned through time and many errors the beauty of her role. Pura, her slave, has been devoted to Mistress Nichole since the day they met and was the major mover and shaker for bringing TTWD into their lives. This Blog is a chronicle of their time together.

Sunday, June 12, 2016

Spanking Kelsie--Conclusion (Comeuppance)

This experience started here.

Readers, I would like to officially apologize for the ridiculous length of this story. I did not realize there was so much to tell. I suppose I could have--as Pura so disrespectfully suggested--left out some details. But I guess if you have been reading my blog, you understand that that is not M.O. This will absolutely be the conclusion of this experience. I need to get it out of the way, because Pura has earned herself a few other entries on here. (Take that as you wish.)

I wish I could say that everything I do before, during, and after a spanking is for the benefit of the bottom involved. I wish that was true. But the truth behind me sending Kelsie into the guest room to wait was not actually to get her mentally prepared. It was to buy myself some time to talk to Pura. 

I found my slave sitting on the bench in the master bedroom. As soon as I saw her, I arched a brow, because she was obviously not in a submissive mindset. She was sitting with her arms wrapped around her knees, glaring into the middle distance. When my arched brow only received a glare, and Pura turned her face away from me, I sighed. 

I approached slowly. "Baby, we need to talk about this," I said.

"No," she answered sharply. "If you're not going to spank Kelsie, I have nothing to say to you." When I tried to sit down, she turned her shoulder away from me, and said, "I need some space."

If lightning had cracked at just that moment, lighting up the windows as it frequently does in horror movies, it would have been a perfect time for it. Because Pura insisting she needed space unleashed a monster inside of me.

"No," I shouted back. "You and I don't have space. There doesn't get to be space between us!" I snatched her hands into mine, jerking her around to face me. 

I swear I am not abusive. But I might not necessarily come off well in this situation.

I think you do. You were right to insist on me talking. It's never okay for me to refuse to talk to you. And if you would not have been a little more forceful than usual, I might have thought I could get away with it. A barrier might have come up between us.

Well, I saw that possibility rise up like an angel of death, and I was not going to let that happen.

I know. I'm so glad. And also, it's not abusive to do things to me I give you consent to do. Just so we're clear.

Hmm. 

Pura was startled, but I had caught her attention. She burst into tears. And we talked. It was not as short as it ought to have been, considering there was a girl waiting in the guest room for discipline. But there was no way I could go into that room without really knowing Pura's thoughts and feelings. I had to know if she was truly okay with it. Because, slave or not, at the end of the day her most important title to me is "wife" and I in no way would jeopardize that. 

When I left Pura, she was in a full submit, on her knees in the corner of the room, head on the floor, hands behind her in the small of her back.

Sorry to interrupt again, but I want to clarify: the submission pose was something Pura brought into our relationship. She has done extensive research about submission and consensual slavery, and has added to our Vanilla dynamic. So much so, that I have been accused of not being Vanilla at all anymore. 

But you are. You probably always will be, because your brain is not wired like mine. This Thing We Do does not come naturally to you like it does to me. You just love me enough to give me what I need.

I won't even lie that spanking your bottom is something I enjoy and no longer shy away from. But the rest of  it is bizarre for me. Master/Slave, sexual domination, all of it. 

Well, you're a spanko. There's not shame in that. I'm just a lot kinkier.

When I went into the room where Kelsie was waiting, I found her sitting on the bed with that stony expression on her face. 

"What have you been thinking about?" I asked in the authoritative tone I had learned to adopt while disciplining. 

She shrugged her shoulders, but it was from nerves rather than an attempt not to answer. "Just... how much I hurt Bethany."

I nodded. "I think hurting Bethany is only part of this. I want you to focus on how much this has hurt you. Think about the agony of that ride home." Pura had given me the details. "Think about the danger you put yourself in. These are the heaviest crimes. Lying to Bethany and being sneaky was just an accessory to that."

She nodded, face flushing once more. 

I sat down on the bed beside her. "Kelsie, you understand you can withdraw consent at any time, right? I'm going to have you choose a safety word. If at any time during this situation you get too uncomfortable, you will say that word to withdraw consent. If you do that, I will immediately stop everything. Do you understand?"

She looked confused. "Bethany does not have a safe word."

I smiled and shook my head. "Yes, she does. She's just never used it." I pushed my amusement away, and added, "But that does not mean you can't use it. If you're uncomfortable or you change your mind, it is important that you do use your safety word."

We talked for several more minutes, and I insisted she select a word. Once the formalities of consent had been observed, I asked her one more time, "Kelsie, do you consent to being punished for your behavior?"

She looked up at me nervously, and said, "Yes."

I turned to sit forward, reached for her arm and directed her firmly, "Over my knees." She came willingly, but she looked terrified. 

"Kelsie, you compromised your safety in many different ways this weekend. You lied to your best friend, and you insulted yourself with behavior that was beneath you and your values. You are better than this behavior, and I want you to try and focus on how important and valuable you are. If you were not, then I would never have consented to punish you for it."

I placed my hand on her bottom, and she tensed slightly. Softly, I said, "Kelsie, you're worth the trouble it takes to correct your misbehavior." I landed a warming blow, and she jumped slightly. A second blow followed the first. "You deserve to be the wonderful, self-respecting girl I know you can be." I continued spanking her, increasing the firmness as I went on. She was squeaking slightly with each strike by the time I stilled my hand.

"How are you doing, Kelsie?" I asked softly.

She mumbled something slightly incomprehensible, but it sounded consenting. "I'm going to pull your pants down now. If you want to withdraw consent, go ahead." When she did not, I tugged her shorts down. They were just stretchy nylon shorts, so they pulled away with no trouble. Her panties were boy-short style, so they offered little protection to the exposed bottom of her pink-tinged buttocks. Pura had stopped buying this style several years ago.

"Sometimes the vulnerability of clothing removal can be very difficult for a bottom," I informed the bottom over my lap. "It can be humiliating. However, for some, the job cannot be done right over the clothing." That was true for Pura almost every time, but I did not mention that to Kelsie. "But considering the disrespect to yourself and your friend this weekend, baring your bottom seems justified." She made a sound sort of like a moan in her throat. But I was not in this for a humiliating lecture, just an explanation. 

I brought my had firmly down on her bottom, which jumped from the impact. Kelsie also jumped, crying out slightly. The shorts had been more protection than she might have realized. I smacked the opposite cheek, and she cried out again. It was such a different experience than spanking Pura. She usually did not cry out until we had been at it for a while, and never before her panties were down. Kelsie's cries made me wince against the reality of what I was doing. Yet, she did not use her safe word, so I continued.

I increased the firmness of my hand, and she jumped even more. Her cries got a little louder, less squeaky protests, more cries of pain. I concentrated on warming her bottom up completely over her panties. I wanted to avoid bruises, and I planned to increase the strength of my strikes once I removed the final barrier to her bare bottom.

She squirmed a little more now, and several times I had to pull her back into position. I finally paused, and asked in a sharp voice, "Kelsie, are you wanting to use your safe word now? Because all this squirming is making my job more difficult. And I usually handle that pretty sternly when a miss is over my knee."

She let out a cry of defeat, and protested, "No. But it hurts."

"It's supposed to hurt. It's supposed to remind you that you are too valuable to allow yourself to do stupid and dangerous things. You are too important to just let this misbehavior slide by. Stay in position and focus on that for a little bit."

She let out another cry, but she scooted herself back into position on my knee. The poor girl had no idea that this was only a warm up and that the main event would be much more difficult to bear.

The warm up ended when I could see plenty of pink across the spread of her cheeks. Then I stopped, so I could hook my fingers around the waistband of her panties. As soon as I started tugging, she cried out, "Wait!"

If Pura had pulled that, I would never have allowed for it. But Kelsie was new to the experience, so I indulged her.

"What is it, Kelsie?" I asked, but I made sure my tone was strong enough that she knew I would tolerate no nonsense.

"Do you have to take them off?" she asked in a pleading tone. "It already hurts a lot."

I considered her words for a moment, taking a breath before answering. I wanted to help her understand. "I don't bare the bottom for the exclusive reason of causing additional pain. This part has far more to do with the experience of the spanking. It is to help you realize you are vulnerable and under my authority. A bare bottom is representative of your bare soul, coming to rest over my knee is search of retribution and forgiveness." She let out a sob of disbelief, so I felt obligated to ask, "Are you wishing to use your safety word now? If you feel you have received enough, I will end here."

She seemed to consider this, but at last, she whispered, "Do you think it's enough? Would Bethany?"

I popped her pantied bottom sharply once, and she cried out in shock. "Are you supposed to be focused on Pura right now?" I demanded.

She let out another defeated cry, and whined, "No."

I gave her another sharp pop. "What are you supposed to be focused on right now?"

"My behavior."

"Right. But I am going to answer your question. No, I do not think you have had enough. No, I do not think we are finished. But if you withdraw consent, I will of course honor it."

She whimpered, "No. Keep going. Please."

I have to admit, this surprised me a lot. I really thought she might have decided she was finished. But I did as she asked. I hooked my fingers around the waistline of her panties and tugged them down to her knees. This was the strangest moment for me. I had never before seen a naked bottom over my lap that was not Pura's. I knew every centimeter of Pura's lovely bottom. It was mine to do with as I pleased. But this bottom over my lap was only rented, and I had to return it to its owner when I was finished. It was a very odd moment for me. I hardly know how to proceed.

I placed my hand on her bottom, watched it flinch under unfamiliar touch. I said, "This is going to hurt a lot more, Kelsie. But as I spank you, I want you to think about everything you did that dishonored you or your friendships. I want you to think of those things, and let the pain and the experience banish them. It's not going to be easy."

She was nervous. I could feel it in the air and see it in the tightening of her body. "Okay," she whispered. And I began at once. 

Her bottom bounced and shivered under my hand. She became vocal right away. I tuned my ear to her cries, paying close attention, in case she decided to withdraw consent. I had absolutely no intention of abusing this poor girl.

She reached back once, and I grasped her hands in my non-spanking hand. I pinned them up in the small of her back, and I continued slapping her reddening bottom.

"Ow," she screamed. "Ow! Owww! OWWW! It hurts! It hurts!"

"Yes," I replied calmly, holding her hands tighter when she instinctively tried to wrench them from my grip. "Pain can be very instructive." I did not stop.

When she tried to wiggle out of position, I did not stop this time. I separated my knees, allowing one of her legs to fall and be caught in the grip of my legs. I have powerful legs. She was completely caught, and I hammered away as if I did not hear her escalating shrieks. Her new position was more painful, unfortunately for her. And for attempting to wiggle away, I also awarded her some sharp smacks to the crease where her bottom meets her legs. This caused her to cry out the most, because I had not sufficiently warmed that area of her body. My hand left a slight pink impression on that area. 

She was more vocal than Pura ever was, and I was certain Pura was in the master bedroom listening in. Probably thinking uncomfortably that she had this to look forward to.

Not at all. I did not think you would actually spank me, even considering the rampant disrespect and bratting I had been doing since I got home. What I was actually thinking was "Poor Kelsie! Mistress is being mean!" I assumed from her shrieks you were using an implement.

I was. The stern and furious indignation of my spanking hand.

I paddled her backside with my open palm, waiting Kelsie's tensing to stop. Waiting for her to submit to the punishment. Because that was always what happened with Pura eventually.

She did not. My hand got too sore to continue, so I paused. The girl was crying now, but still stiff as a board. "Kelsie, have you let anything go? Remember, I asked you to think about your misbehavior and let the pain wash it away. Are you doing that?"

She sobbed, "No. I made Bethany sick. For hours and hours, she was sick, and it was my fault. It was my fault." Not entirely. Pura should not have been drinking without me present, because an event from last year proved she could not be trusted on her own with alcohol. 

"Yes, and the punishment is supposed to restore balance. You are supposed to submit to the punishment, and let it correct everything. You have to try and let go of the crimes."

She sobbed against the bed for several minutes, and I waited. I was seriously concerned, to be honest. I thought maybe spanking was totally different for her, and waiting for her to relax against the spanking was not advisable. But then she spoke through a sob.

"If that's going to happen, I guess you have to spank harder."

I was floored. Seriously? Harder? She was already bright red. 

"Stand up," I instructed her, and I released her hands and her leg so she could. She stood up away from me, and for a moment I caught a glimpse of my handiwork. She was red and swollen. I stood up, too, and pushed her gently to the corner. I had rarely put Pura in the corner in our relationship. But I needed to buy myself some more time. "I want you to stand here for a couple minutes. Spend that time thinking about the most serious of the crimes you committed. When I come back, I am going to ask you about those crimes, and you need to be completely honest with me. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she cried. She covered her face with her hands. I backed out of the room. I went to Pura, who was still in full submit. It was far too long for my peace of mind, so I instructed her to stand up, strip from the waist down, and lie face down on the bed with the brush in front of her.

She looked at me nervously. "You're going to spank me?" she asked in surprise. "But it wasn't my fault."

I snorted at that. "Her lying to you does not give you a right to lie to me."

"But I didn't--" she tried to argue.

"Keeping things from me is a form of lying, and I don't tolerate it. Get the brush out and study it and think about your own behavior. Stop focusing on Kelsie's behavior this instant, and think about your own."

"But," she argued.

I interrupted. "Add arguing to the list of things you need to think about, and grab the paddle from the implement case, too."

"No," she protested vehemently. I smacked her bottom hard for that argument, she she quickly changed her words. "Ow! I'm sorry. I mean, the paddle won't be necessary. I'll get the brush, and--"

"And you'll get the paddle," I replied sharply. "Now." I marched out, confident she would be obedient. I went to the kitchen next, retrieved a glass of water and a gentle pain killer. And I went back to Kelsie.

Kelsie was standing in the corner where I had left her.

"Come here," I called, setting the pills and the water on the side table. I seated myself on the bed again. When Kelsie came to me, I guided her back over my knees, but this time from the other direction. I very rarely spanked Pura with my non-dominant hand, but I knew I could not ask my dominant hand to do much more, and I was not prepared to use an implement on the girl. 

"Well, Kelsie?" I asked. "What's the worst crime committed?"

She tensed, but she revealed it. "I learned about this gig through a guy I have been sleeping with. His brother is in the band." I blinked, not fully understanding. Until she added, "I've been cheating on my boyfriend with this guy because he has connections."

I cannot say for sure, but I think if anyone looked in at me in that moment, I might have been frozen like an ice statue. I had naturally assumed Kelsie's most damning crime was that she had poisoned Pura with a Mojito. I could never have guessed that she was harboring a darker secret.

I needed clarification. "Kelsie, are you telling me that you are prostituting yourself to some dirt bag because he has connections in the musical world?"

She whimpered, but eventually admitted, "Yes."

"Do you even like him? Are you attracted to him?"

She sobbed, and said, "No."

Boom went the dynamite. What was this girl thinking?! I had to control my utter revulsion that anyone would think to use their body in such a disrespectful way.

"You are going to break it off with this dirt bag," I ordered her firmly. "You are going to have more self-respect than this in the future, and you will never let anything like this happen again."

"I betrayed _______," she cried, naming her boyfriend in dismay.

I countered with, "You betrayed yourself!"

And before another word could be spoken, I let my non-dominant hand fly. I had come back in the room ready to gently guide her to self-forgiveness and acceptance, but her confession had changed the game for me. 

"I'm sorry," she announced after a couple minutes of hard concentration to her sit-spot. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"Who are you convincing?" I retorted firmly. "And the only acceptable answer here is yourself."

I kept going. She was sobbing soon. "I just wanted some new opportunities!" she declared.

"Opportunities knock," I snapped back. "Propositions beat the door down."

She cried out in dismay. "Please!" she begged me. "Please!"

"Please what?" I replied. "You disappointed yourself, disgraced your talent, and betrayed your loved ones. What could you possibly be asking me for? I am doing the only service you can possibly need right now. You lie here and think about that!"

Her bottom was a fiery red now, and there were darker areas that spoke of bruises. She would have a difficult time sitting for the next little while. But that did not stop me. I had only one thought, and that was that if I did a thorough enough job, Kelsie would never allow herself to get wrapped up in filth like this again. The strength of that possibility is what kept me spanking that girl's tender unspoiled bottom.

Ouchie.

"Please!" she begged me again a few minutes later. "I'm so, so sorry! Please!"

"I'm sorry, too. I'm sorry you chose to sell your virtue to the highest bidder."

She wailed and collapsed in a crying heap across my knees. I recognized submission, but I did not immediately stop my hand. I gave her several more very hard swats, knowing that in her submissive state she would feel every one of them keenly. Then I softened my hand, swatting a few more times at a more reasonable pace. She jumped with every touch to her bottom, but she no longer tried to wiggle away, fight, or plead. She had accepted her punishment.

I pulled my hand away and gathered her up into my arms. She was sobbing uncontrollably now, so I held her. Even though she was a rented bottom, I held her and comforted her like she belonged to me.

"Oh, Kelsie, you were very strong. You were very brave," I told her. "It's over now. Okay? It's all done."

She cried out in relief, clinging to me like I was a driftwood on the cold ocean. There were tissues on the nightstand, and I reached to gather a few for her. I pressed them into a palm and held her in my arms while she blew her nose and wiped her face. But tears were not going to disappear in one instance.

When I got her calm enough to release her, I set her beside me on the bed. She cried out from contact with the bed and tried to squirm away, but I stopped her. 

"Wait," I said, handing her the pain pills and a glass of water. "Hydrate," I ordered her. "And take those pills. They should help with the swelling." She did as I ordered her. And soon I was able to tuck her into the guest bed on her tummy. I was so relieved I had made her promise she would stay. Not that she tried to go home or anything, but her spanking had been far more severe than I had planned, so I was glad to have her close.

I stayed with her, speaking gentle words of forgiveness and encouragement, until she was asleep. After her ordeal, it did not take her very long. Her last words to me were, "Thank you, Mistress Nichole." 

Truthfully, she did not actually thank me until the following morning, but for the sake of finally finishing the story (as promised), I had to truncate.

Nicely done.

And then I left Kelsie resting and went back to my room to deal with my own slave. This was a bottom that belonged to me and was in desperate need of some firm attention.

Boo. That's a mean way to end.

Oh, don't worry, my love. I fully intend to allow you to tell what happened next.

*glares* Boo some more.

Readers, look for it in the next post: Pura's Weekend Caper (Comeuppance).

Saturday, June 11, 2016

Spanking Kelsie-Part 4

This experience started here.

Kelsie had just announced that she was there to receive a spanking. I reeled.

"What?"

I wanted to clarify, but also to buy myself time, because I had no idea how I was going to respond to this. It was so far outside the realm of anything I thought I ever would be doing. Learning to spank Pura had been overwhelming enough for me; I did not think I could actually spank someone else. Besides, punishments in our house were very intimate between me and my slave. I thought it seemed a little like cheating to do it with someone else.

Kelsie's stony exterior was just a mask, I realized. She seemed rough and aggressive, and belligerent, but she was just nervous.

I was really, really nervous. I don't think Nichole realizes how intimidating she can be.

She doesn't at all.

She's really scary, especially when she's mad. Also, Pura has told me all about the spankings she has received at Nichole's hands, and that was intimidating information to have in my head. She's -------- scary!

Agreed! Except without the profanity. *looks nervously at Mistress' stern face and quickly edits Kelsie's naughty language*

The peanut gallery is now going to pipe down, or there might be a couple new punishment stories to add to this blog today. *shakes a stern finger at the two interrupting misses.

Kelsie repeated, "I am here to get a spanking." And the poor girl's face blushed to various hues of red. And she looked stonier and colder than ever. 

I blinked over at my slave, who was standing demurely beside me with the guiltiest look on her face I have ever seen. "What?" I demanded of her.

Pura shrugged, but I know when she's avoiding. I raised an eyebrow, and she melted into her shoulders. She mumbled something that sounded like, "I told her she had to or we can't be friends anymore."

"What?" I demanded again, a little more crisply.

Pura glared up at me then, her own mask falling away to reveal the hothead I know lives inside her brain. "What do you mean 'What?' She lied to me and because I was trying to be a good friend, I did not do what I knew I should. Which was to call you as soon as she told me the truth. And you said on the phone you did not think I should be friends with her because she lied to me." 

"Stop," I commanded. And it was a command, with the full weight of authority in my face. She clicked her teeth shut and glared at me until she calmed herself down. Then she snatched at her mask of humility again. She put her hands on my shirtfront, entreating. 

"I was afraid you were not going to let me be her friend anymore."

"And that's not okay," Kelsie piped in, but her face was still red.

Well, I was stunned, frankly. I had never considered myself to be a spanking service for my wife to lend out to her naughty friends. That came as a bit of a shock.

*rolls eyes dramatically* Oh, stop that right now. You know I do not think of you that way.

*Takes a quick break to speak some stern words to her slave for the eye-rolls and snark.

*taps on the keyboard idly, trying not to listen in on the "conversation" in the other room.*

*gets bored waiting and types some more.* Mistress Nichole is sort of funny, I think. She lets Bethany say and do a lot of inappropriate stuff for a while, and then suddenly snaps and lays down the law. I cannot for the life of me imagine being in a relationship like that. But I guess it works for them. If my boyfriend started a conversation with me with "Young lady, if you do not stop rolling your eyes at me this instant, I am going to turn you over my knee right here!" I would probably laugh in his face. Pura's meek, though. Sometimes. 

*Having returned to find extra words written on the post, shoots Kelsie a stern look and a threat. Then returns to the story.*

I asked Pura, "So, let me see if I understand this correctly. You told your friend she deserved to get a spanking for how she treated you this weekend. And then you offered me as the spanker?"

Pura shook her head with a little more glaring than I normally permit. "No. I told Kelsie that she had lied to me, and that I would probably get punished for it. And she said that is not fair."

"It isn't," Kelsie interjected.

I ignored her completely. "And I told her if there was any justice in the world, she would be the one to get the spanking, because she is the one who committed the crime." Pura huffed and settled back on her flat feet, glaring up at me.

I looked over her head at Kelsie. "And what did you say to that?" I was curious now. Because I knew Kelsie had somehow made the decision to come up here and tell me she was here for a spanking.

"I said if she thought you would spank me instead of her, I would do it."

Pura grumbled something I did not bother to hear. I addressed Kelsie. "I don't do proxy spankings. If Pura needs a spanking, it will be Pura's backside I reward it to." Yeah. It was a little biting.

Pura snapped. "She's not here to get a spanking instead of me. She needs her own!" She glared at her best friend. "You lied to me, and then begged me not to call Nichole, and then told those guys at the club to come find me an ask me to dance, after I told you I was not dancing that night. And you smoked whatever that ----- was they offered you on stage. And tried to get me to smoke it! When you know Nichole will beat the tar of me if I do any kind of drugs. And I told you I was allergic to rum. I told you!"

"No you didn't!" Kelsie cried. She had been looking at me nervously during most of Pura's accusations. But now she turned her full attention on her friend. "I swear, I had no idea. And those guys wanted to buy us a drink. I told them just to give you what I was having. But I would never have poisoned you on purpose." She had tears in her eyes. "How can you think that?"

"You lied to me!" Pura screamed back. 

"Stop," I said. And for a wonder, I was the calmest person in the room suddenly. I reached over and grasped Kelsie's arm to make her look at me. "Kelsie, I would never spank a girl who did not deserve it. And I would never do anything without consent. This is not a court of law, and you do not owe me any explanations. Okay? I'm not going to spank you."

Pura snarled something, but one fierce look from me quieted her quick enough. But Kelsie sniffled, and said, "No, I need you to! Please? Beth said she won't ever trust me again if you..."

And the rage was back. "Pura!" I accused, turning on my slave. She had the decency to cower away from my anger. "You are not permitted to hold a spanking over your friend's head as a manipulation. Absolutely not."

And then Pura was crying. "But it's not fair! She lied to me. How can I ever trust her again? How can I..." she became incoherent. And then Kelsie sobbed something that sounded like apologies to her, and begging to me. I was overwhelmed by crying girls and dreadfully curious about how their conversation in the car had gone down to get them to this place.

"Stop!" I said again, firmly enough that Pura tried to suck in her tears. To her, I said, "Go sit on the bench in the bedroom and let me talk to Kelsie privately." When she seemed about to argue, I took a step toward her and she virtually sprinted away.

"Come here," I coaxed Kelsie, taking her hand and leading her to the couch. We sat down. "Kelsie, I want to try and help you understand what I think is going on here. Pura is used to having her punishment and then being forgiven and moving on. She forgives herself and I forgive her, and it's like everything ugly disappears. That's who she is. That's what she needs. But not everyone is like that, and she is going to have to learn to deal with the different way people cope with betrayal, and forgiveness."

It was like I had hit her; she physically recoiled from the word "betrayal" and her eyes became glassy once more. "But I did not lie to her just to be sneaky. I did it because I knew if I told her the truth, she would never in a million years go with me to Vegas. And I really, really needed her to be there. It was a totally different kind of gig for me, and I knew she would watch my back better than my boyfriend. I needed her. I did not mean to betray her."

I shook my head. "It's her trust that's been affected, and I think a large part of that is because I was furious when I spoke to her on the phone."

"I know," the girl replied softly. "It was on speaker in the car." 

A burst of new frustration at Pura bubbled up inside me, but I stifled it. I could only deal with one irrational girl at a time.

"Look, Kels, Pura is going to have to figure out how to forgive someone without corporal punishment. Okay? She has to do it with me all the time. She can do it with you."

But Kelsie shook her head. "No," she whispered. She met my eye. "Please, Nichole! You did not see her. You did not see how hurt she was and how upset she was about your anger. She told me that you said we probably could not be friends anymore." Kelsie cut off and took a moment to collect herself. "And then she said maybe it was for the best, because she did not think she would ever be able to trust me again." Kelsie clenched her fists on her knees. "I thought I was going to lose my best friend! For two hours she would barely talk to me at all. I thought I lost her!" Kelsie's gaze dropped to the ground and she breathed for a moment. I considered speaking several times, but I just could not find sufficient words to comfort her. Pura did seem angry enough to do something she would regret.

At length, Kelsie said, "When I finally asked her if she thought you were going to spank her, she threw off the idea that maybe I deserved a spanking." Kelsie looked up again, and hope was there in her eyes. A hope I tried desperately not to see or to understand. "After spending several hours thinking she would never forgive me, this seemed to be the only solution. We talked about it for a long time. She really thinks this is what should happen."

I let out an exhausted breath. Pura was exhausting. "Right now, I can't worry about what she thinks. I can only worry about what you think. I promise you that you can gain Pura's trust again without receiving a spanking. You're a grown woman, for God's sake!"

She nodded, and said quietly, "So is she." And then she hit me with the big guns. "Please? I just want this to go away. I want you and Bethany to believe in me and to trust me. If this is the way to do it, please just do it. I offered to let her do it but she said she can't."

Yeah, that would have been a disaster, because she was such a hothead. And I would never allow her to spank someone. It was a serious thing, and she could never do it seriously.

"Have you ever been spanked before?"

She shrugged. "Yeah, as a little kid. My mom used to get mad and swat at us. And one time when I called my mom a *&$%!#, my dad took a belt to me."

Inwardly I winced at those two examples. "That is nothing like what I do. You understand? What I do is take Pura over my knee and spank with my hand on her bare bottom. And I usually do not finish until she is fairly red."

Kelsie flushed to her hairline again. "I know," she whispered. "Pura has told me about it. And also, she wanted to let me know what to expect, so she explained it in the car. But she said you will probably use the brush because it's a serious crime."

Damn Pura! 

"I am the one who decides how I spank." That was when I realized I was willing to do this. It still felt a little cheatery, but Kelsie was right that Pura was not likely to forgive this for a long time otherwise. And maybe never. But I also knew I owed it to this girl and her bottom to make sure we were doing this for the right reasons.

"Kelsie, do you want me to spank you? Do you think that will help you move past this? Because that is why I spank Pura, so that she can forgive herself. Do you need this? Or are you just doing it to please Pura?"

She was honest, thank God. "Both. I want Bethany to get over this fast. But that car ride was hell and if spanking me will help her forgive me, and will help me understand how hurt she was, I want to do it. I don't know if I need it, but I think I deserve it. Is that okay?"

NO!!! But I made myself think before I spoke. "Spanking hurts. A lot. And you have a fairly unspanked bottom, so it's going to hurt even more. Do you understand that?"

Kelsie looked a little nervous, but she spoke confidently. "Yes. Bethany and I talked about that too. I understand. If it hurts for a couple days, maybe I will remember how horrible it was to have my best friend tell me that I was a bad influence and maybe a dangerous person to be around. Nothing can hurt more than that."

I actually agreed with her. "Alright. If you consent to be spanked, I will do it. But during the punishment, I expect you to be thinking about the punishment and the misbehavior. Not about Pura and her needs. Do you understand that? If we are going to do this, we are going to do this right."

She looked up at me again, a little confused. "What do you mean?"

"She does not get to be there. We will do this privately in the guest room, and then you can stay the night so I can take care of you if you need it. That's the whole all of my agreeing to do this. It's private; you focus on you; and you stay the night so I'm close by in case you need me. Do you agree to that?"

She thought about it, and finally nodded. "Okay." She widened her eyes at me. "I'm really nervous."

I nodded once and stood up. "Good. That will help you be in the right mind-frame. Go wait in the guest room for me. And while you're waiting, I want you to think about what is going to happen and why. And be prepared to tell me all about it, because I will ask you what you have been thinking about."

It turns out, being authoritative is a fairly natural state for me. Almost as soon as she agreed, it was easy for me to take the lead in everything. She stood up on shaky legs and walked out of the room, watching me over her shoulder as she went. I heard the guest door shut quietly. And I knew she was in there thinking about what she had agreed to. And what was coming.

It was probably the longest wait of my life.

Not as long as the readers' wait to get to the end of this story. Come on, Mistress! Can't you leave a few details out? Spank her ------- already!

*Mistress Nichole sends Pura to do her own waiting on the bench in the master bedroom.* 
"And get the hairbrush out, my love! Because I am done with your naughtiness today."

Forgive me, Readers. I really thought this would conclude things. But I have to take care of Pura's misbehavior before her bratting escalates. Here's to finishing the story tomorrow. *crosses fingers.*

Spanking Kelsie-Part Three

This experience started here.

I'm taking the opportunity to finish this story while Pura is out with some friends. Her interruptions always make this process take longer than it needs to. I left the story off with Pura coming home from Vegas, and she had brought reinforcements.

When Pura walked into the house, she was not alone. Kelsie came in with her. All my careful plans were obliterated in an instant. Kelsie looked at me with what I thought was contempt and distrust. Pura watched me warily, I am sure wondering if I would break from my standard regime in smiling a welcome at Kelsie, and demand instead that she leave immediately and never come back. I'm ashamed to say the thought did cross my mind. I truly considered telling Pura she may not ever associate with Kelsie again. I seriously considered ejecting Kelsie forcibly from my home. A lot of flying thoughts danced through my mind as I watched Pura hold the door for her friend and whisper an invitation to come in.

My better nature won out. However, I did not give Kelsie any of the courtesy I had formerly offered when she came to the house. I watched the girls come in with narrowed eyes and an air of purpose. Kelsie's presence was not going to change my intended plan for the evening, although of course Pura's punishment would have to be delayed until the unwelcome intruder left.

"Hi, Baby," Pura whispered at me. She appeared as humbled as she ever did after a spanking. It was a look I had never seen on her face before a punishment occurred. She kissed me, then remained on her toes to whisper in my ear. "Kelsie begged me to let her come over and explain everything herself. Is that okay? I can make her leave if..." She looked at my face and then dropped onto her flat feet. I am not certain which of my expressions had such a fast reaction, but Pura's eyes dropped downward and she sunk into her shoulders a little. Tears sprang to her eyes. "Please don't make me stop being friends with her, Nichole. Please! I will never let anything like this happen again."

The fact that she called me by my street name caught my attention fastest. I grabbed her chin and turned her face up to meet my eyes. I have to admit, her reaction had had a softening effect on me. "Babe, I would never do something that hurt you unless it helped more than it hurt. You know that." At least, I hoped she knew that.

When I looked up at Kelsie, the girl seemed even more closed off and tense. I asked her, "You wanted a chance to explain something to me? Perhaps why you lied about your grandmother's funeral? Or gave my wife a drink with rum in it? I'm on the edge of my seat." Yeah, it was not my friendliest words to her on record.

Kelsie squared her shoulders and looked up at me. "I'm here because you told Pura you were not going to let us be friends anymore." That was not what I had said at all, but I guess naughtiness breeds slow processing skills. "I came because I am not going to let that happen."

I had not really planned to force separation unless it turned out Kelsie was as irresponsible and dangerous a person as she appeared to be. But when she said she would not let that happen, I got a little mad.

"Oh, you're not going to let that happen, huh? You're not going to allow me to tell my slave she can't see you anymore? Are you kidding?" I almost kicked her out again, but I restrained myself. I breathed myself calm. "What is it exactly you have to say to me now, Kelsie?" 

Kelsie looked me directly in the eye. "Mistress Nichole, you know I love Bethany more than life itself. And I support the relationship dynamic you have created, because she loves it and it makes her happy. I have always supported it, and I still do, even with the punishment looming over her head right now. However, I do have to say, I don't think today she deserves a spanking. I don't think she's earned it."

You may imagine what I said and how I reacted to this upstart young woman's opinion of my life and my personal business.

Blood boiling, I snapped back, "That's not up to you. Pura and I will discuss it and I will decide if punishment is deserved."

Kelsie's expression grew somehow stonier and she replied in perfect brattiness, "If you don't keep stomping around here barking at everyone, interrupting people who are trying to explain things to you, then you're not being a disciplinarian. You're being a bully!"

Pura had the decency to gasp in shock and turn on her friend with vicious fury. "Don't call her names, Kelsie! Don't! She is not ever a bully to me. Never!" Leave it to Pura to turn me into a martyr, especially when I least deserve it.

"No," Kelsie snapped back. "She's not listening. She just wants to be mad, and I'm not leaving when she's mad, because that's not safe for you."

Just to clarify, readers, I have not nor ever would spank Pura in a raging fury. She deserves me to be cool and collected when we go into any scene, because it's extremely emotionally trying for her, even without trying to read and figure out my emotions.  I always try to be as calm as possible. And usually before a spanking occurs, there is plenty of discussion. There have been several times where punishment has had to be delayed because one or both of us were not in the correct mindset. I am not abusive to Pura; she's the love of my life.

Pura defended herself and me both. "I am not in any danger with my wife, Kelsie. You know that! You did not..." She cut off and turned to me, wrapped her hands around my neck and looked me in the eye. She whispered insistently, "I did not bring her here to insult you. It's not okay for her to insult you ever. It's not okay." She spun back to her best friend. "You did not come with me to protect me. Tell Mistress why you came. Tell her now!" 

Pura can be pretty fierce when she wants to be. I'm sure all my readers remember when she verbally attacked my brothers. That was special. But this confrontation with her best friend was endearing.

Kelsie looked at me with a little more wariness. I assumed it was from Pura's scolding. I assumed wrong.

"I'm here because Pura did not do anything wrong and does not deserve to be punished. But if you think a spanking is necessary, I'm here to receive it."

And, Pura's home, so I'm just going to leave you on this cliff-hanger and finish this later. Stay tuned.

Wednesday, June 8, 2016

Spanking Kelsie Part Two

This experience started here.

I left off with finding out Pura had lied to me about where she was going away for the weekend with her best friend Kelsie. The two girls were in a safe hotel for the night. And I was worried out of my mind for Pura, who had been sick all night.

Pura called me in the late morning.

"Mistress," she said, in a tone I knew immediately was all humility. "I'm coming home. We checked out of the hotel. We're on our way."

"Good," I replied. I was working hard not to sound furious, or indeed to be furious. I think my worry for my beautiful Pura was what held me back from outright rage. "How are you feeling this morning?"

She began crying but she answered me without delay. "I'm alright. I just feel a little tired now. Kelsie is driving. I'll be home this evening."

"Okay, Babe. I'll see you when you get here. We can talk about it more then."

She erupted into more tears. "Please don't be mad!" she begged me. "I didn't know we were going all the way to Vegas; I swear. She did not tell me until we were in Mesquite. Please don't be mad!"

It was like a fire lit beneath me, and I snapped, "How can you ask me not to be angry? You lied to me!"

"I did not lie to you!" she pleaded. "I did not know!"

"Well, if that's true, and your friend lied to you, I'm not sure you should be her friend at all!" Pura tried to answer, sobbing incoherently. I interrupted her, "We will talk about it when you get home." And I hung up the phone so my boundary was clear; we would not talk about this again until she was home and safe.

But that did not stop the two of them from talking about it on the five hour drive home.

Mistress, you never said I could not discuss it, just because you had decided to be mean. And besides, what else were we supposed to talk about? I was really distressed. And Kelsie was worried about what would happen to me when I got home.

Seriously? You both knew what would happen. I was displeased. You had endangered yourself. Your principles are very clear about this. We all knew there was a spanking in your future.

*Grins mischievously* Yes, there certainly was. Keep going. I love this story.

I made dinner, did laundry, cleaned the guest bathroom... Basically, I busied myself with projects in the hope that I could keep my mind occupied. It did not work well. 

The weight of a looming punishment always bears down on me like that. I know it needs to happen. I know it will restore the balance of our home. I know Pura takes guilt to her grave without it. But otherwise, I hate it!

Oh, poor Mistress Nichole! *Hopes the sarcasm in this statement is evident to the readers.*

Because I could not stop thinking about it, I had it all worked out in my mind. She would come home. We would sit on the couch and discuss the events. She would tell me all the details of her excursion, and list all the ways she had broken her rules. Depending on the severity of the rule-breaking, I would spank her with the brush or my hand. And hopefully we could wrap up this nastiness before bedtime. I had it all planned out.

And then Pura came in the door with witnesses.

*Rolls eyes* I think I should be the one telling this story, since Mistress seems to be having a hard time coping with reality.

Readers, please excuse me while I deal with a naughty slave who needs a reminder of who's in charge in this house. I'll finish the story in the next installment. I promise.

EEEeeeek! 

Tuesday, June 7, 2016

Spanking Kelsie

I thought I might as well share the most recent "comeuppance" in my household. Here's the background: Pura met a girl in a college class last year, and the two of them hit it off right away. Suddenly, it was "My friend Kelsie" in every story Pura told me. The two of them started hanging out semi-regularly. They went out dancing a few times a month. They met almost daily on campus to eat lunch. And soon Kelsie was a regular visitor to my home. 

Now, I don't care if Pura has guests at the house. She does frequently invite people over or host parties here. As long as I know ahead of time, it doesn't matter to me. But I quickly learned that Kelsie was going to be a regular unannounced guest. At first, I was a little annoyed.

Jealous.

No need to put in your two cents, Pura. The readers need a background for this story to make sense and I am the one giving it to them.

Then perhaps Mistress ought to include the facts, and the fact is, you were jealous because Kelsie became my BFF in an instant, and you were insecure and stupid about it.

*SWAT* You will refrain from interrupting me again, Pura. Go sit over there on the couch.

*Pura is going away to sit on the couch now, like an obedient slave.*

As I was saying, I was feeling a little insecure and jealous because Pura was spending inordinate amounts of time with someone new. Additionally, I was nervous because they were getting so close and I did not know what Kelsie would think if she figured out that my relationship with Pura was not strictly... normal. But you know Pura! She can't keep a secret if her life depended on it. Without telling me, she explained our entire life to Kelsie. The girl started to really grow on me after that, because, instead of being freaked out and weird about it, she was fascinated. And supportive.

Readers, please meet Kelsie:

Hello, blog friends. I'm Kelsie: Pura's best friend forever. I'm a safe, judgment-free zone.

Kelsie will now join Pura on the couch. Some details about Kelsie:

1. She is straight. And I mean railroad ties and uncooked spaghetti. She has had a boyfriend since she turned fourteen, and has never been single more than two weeks since then. 
2. She is talented. She's an artist and a musician. She plays several instruments, one of which is a bass guitar which she played for a rock band when she was in high school.
3. Her only experience with spanking (prior to her introduction to me and Pura and TTWD) was that she was spanked as a child, but not often since she was generally well-behaved.
4. Kelsie wears the pants in most of her relationships. 
5. Kelsie now refers to me as "Mistress Nichole" and is almost as quick to do my bidding as Pura herself. And this story is going to explain why...

Pura called me at work. Since I never receive calls at work unless there is an emergency, I took the call when I had a recess between classes and my students were out of the room.

"Mistress," Pura said as soon as I answered the phone. "Are you busy?"

Mildly annoyed, and also relieved that there was no emergency, I responded, "Of course I am busy, Pura. I'm at work."

"I'll get straight to it then. I am wondering if I can go out of town with Kelsie this weekend. She needs to know now if I am going, because if not she's going to take [current boyfriend who shall remain nameless]."

I was not pleased to have been interrupted for this triviality. But I was willing to consider it. "Where is she going?"

"Her grandmother died, so she's driving home to Mesquite for the funeral."

That softened me a little. Some people--not me, but other people--have close relationships with their grandparents. Kelsie needed her best friend. 

"Of course you can go if you want to, Babe. How is Kelsie? Is she okay?"

"She's okay, I think. I haven't seen her today."

That in itself was surprising enough. "When is she leaving?"

"Right away. She said she needs to be on the road by four." Pura's voice sounded apologetic to me, and I even knew why. Pura was always waiting at the door for me at five-fifteen, and she usually served dinner at six. If she had to leave by four, it meant I would not see her and would be fending for myself for the evening.

"That's alright, Babe," I assured her. "You should go with your friend and be with her during this time. When will you be home?"

Pura's voice sounded smaller when she said, "Not until Monday, probably." It was only Thursday. That was a long time to go without my beautiful Pura. But I stifled my selfishness.

"Okay. Text me when you're on the road. And call me every night if you can." At the last second, I hardened my voice slightly, and added, "Be good!" in a threatening tone.

"Yes, Mistress," she replied with exasperation dancing on her tone. We exchanged loving greetings and hung up. I knew I was going to miss her, but I did not think anything else about the situation. I got her text an hour later, and went home to an empty house an hour after that. It certainly never crossed my mind that I might have been  completely deceived.


Pura sent me a text Thursday night to say they were safe and still driving. She texted something about poor service, and so I never questioned why she failed to call me. I texted Pura on lunch Friday, and never got a response. Again, I never suspected anything. I assumed they were at the funeral and could not answer. But when she failed to call me Friday night, I got a little nervous. I sent her a couple of texts asking for updates, and finally a text insisting she call me as soon as she received my message.

Kelsie called me at 2 A.M. Saturday morning.

"Nichole?" she asked, and her voice was strained. "I need to tell you something."

"What?" I demanded, waking up panicked. "Is everything all right? What's going on?"

"Pura's sick," she answered, and I thought my heart stopped for a moment. Before I managed to get it back up and working again, Kelsie went on. "She had a mojito. She's been sick all night and she finally asked me to call you."

I was a little shocked and confused at this point. "She had a mojito?" I demanded, very concerned. "She's allergic to rum!" It would be better labeled as an intolerance to rum than an allergy. Rum made her sick; it did not close her airway.

Kelsie sounded very small when she said, "I did not know that." Her voice seemed almost like she was pleading with me, but I did not yet understand why.

"Is she too sick to talk to me? Put her on the phone."

Kelsie answered, "I will in a minute, but... I need to tell you something first." She drew a long breath, and I nearly erupted from impatience and worry. "We did not go to a funeral. My grandmother died two years ago. It's just that I had this amazing opportunity to play a gig with a group at a grung-club in Vegas, and I was too afraid to go by myself. So I convinced Bethany to come with me. She's really afraid you're going to be angry. But you need to know this is not her fault. This is my fault."

I was stunned. Not angry, because I was too shocked to be angry. "Where are you?" I asked quietly. I was hoping they were safe and on their way home. 

Kelsie's voice was almost soft enough to be considered a whisper. "In the parking lot of the club. The car doors are all locked and stuff, but she's pretty sick and throwing up. And I drank too much to think about driving. I did not want to..."

 I cut her off. "You are sitting in a parking lot in Las Vegas? Are you out of your damned mind? That's dangerous!" I knew they weren't on the Strip, which would have been bad enough. If Kelsie was playing in a grung-club, it was likely in a more dangerous part of town.

Pura was on the phone then, crying, "Mistress, I'm so sorry! I did not know what was in the drink. I didn't..." She was inconsolable and sick. 

"Put Kelsie back on the phone," I ordered her in a voice I knew would immediately get results. As soon as Kelsie was back, I said, "Listen carefully. You are to immediately drive to the Strip. If you can't drive, then call a cab. Do you understand me? Go to Ceasar's Palace or The Paris. Pura should have my emergency credit card with her. You are to use that to get a room for the night. When you get there, ask the concierge for Alkaseltzer, and then dose Pura and put her in the bath. Then I expect both of you to sleep yourselves out and come home. Do you hear me? You come home!"

Kelsie answered with whispered assurances of obedience. When we got off the phone, I was livid. And stressed and worried. Fortunately, Kelsie called me again when they reached the hotel, and then again when Pura was asleep. I am not sure I slept a wink until I knew she was safe and asleep.

I'm out of time to tell this story. I'll come back and tell the rest later.


Sunday, June 5, 2016

Three Years Later...

It is fascinating what life can do to us. Sometimes we get tossed on the wind and it seems impossible to come back to full-functionality once our inner workings have been rattled and broken. I have been broken.

My life upheaval lasted years, and now I'm back. This is not a promise, because I cannot commit my time to anything so heavy as updating and keeping a blog. But I did do at least as Bethany asked me, and republished the blog. You see, there was a lot of duplicity in our lives at the beginning of this blogging adventure. And now that I am tired of hiding, and broken from trying to hide, I'm back.

It is so easy to not be who you say you are online. But, the truth is, Pura actually was. And I let a perverse little infatuation with another blogger get into my way and into my head. I ended up in a web of deception and it hurt Pura, and it broke some of the wonderfulness we had. So I made the blog private and went away. Far away.

But she asks so very little of me and I do not feel I can deny her another foray into the blogging world. Before the hiatus, Pura and I had some stuff to work through. She quit the blog long before I did, and quit me before I was able to admit it to myself or the blogging world. And I needed and deserved for her to do this. You see, the thing that makes me and Pura special is not TTWD. What makes us special is that we have a distinct and beautiful history that can never be defiled.

I regret the duplicity that drove Pura from me, And I regret the interactions (started in this blog) that pried happiness from my waiting fingers. I regret it but know regret can never make up for what was done in the name of "internet fun."

This is the only apology the world will receive from me, and if you don't understand it, then it is not for you. The only explanation I owe belongs to Pura. My love. My heart. My beautiful little slave.

And Pura forgives Mistress utterly and completely. But the blog world had better believe I am watching for people trying to Bogart my mistress from my hands. Particularly the little _______ who tried to do it before. Yeah. You know who you are. Get off my blog!

Saturday, March 9, 2013

Spring Break!

Hello, Readers! I made a commitment to Mistress that I would not post anything during the school year except on breaks. That way I can focus on school, which is my only job during the school year, with the generous exception of loving and caring for Mistress. Truth to tell, she was a little jealous of how much time and attention I was spending on the online world, and so I pulled back.

It's Spring Break now. Mistress is out of town for a few days, and so I'm Baaaaack! I thought you all might like to hear a little bit about last weekend. One of those weekends...

Mistress was under a lot of stress. There were some crazy work scenarios, plus a visit from a judgmental brother, some crises with some of her investments, and then one of Mistresses exes showed up out of the blue, (although that may have been mostly stressful for me). Mistress was under an abundant amount of stress and so she took a day off work to sort out her mind and relax.

Why is it that when she's home all day I can't seem to leave well enough alone? She's almost never home, and when she is, she is often working. This day, she was resting. She was in the living room watching the TV, and seemed not to have a care in the world. Why is it that when she's the most at ease, I begin to feel relentlessly bratty?

It started small. I began to do the dishes in the next room, but I deliberately made as much noise as possible. I put pots in the sink while it was filling, so the water splashed around. I banged plates and cups against each other as I loaded the dish washer. Apparently, I was in need of some attention. I know! Bratty! I could just as easily have sat down next to her and asked for it. Sometimes, though, I don't want to have to ask for what I need; I just want her to know what I need. It's highly unfair to her. 

Her response was just to turn up the volume. Mistress watches all these shows I don't enjoy: ones full of intrigue and undercurrents, so you have to watch closely and listen carefully to fully understand the ins and outs. I'm a sitcom princess all the way. The easier and more in-your-face the humor, the better. I was capable of doing dishes or any other chore while watching my shows, because even if you missed a little, the rest was enough to catch you up. Mistress' show was not that way. It's some period piece about King Henry, and I think it's violent and smutty. Not that that was the reason I was being a brat. Well, maybe it was a little. If she had been watching a show I enjoy, I might not have been quite so eager to make a nuisance of myself.

She raised the volume, so a few minutes later I began making even more clatter in the kitchen. Mistress turned in her chair and called, "Baby," in an exasperated tone. I leaned around and innocently inquired, "Yes, Baby?"

She gestured toward the television. "Could you...?" 

I pretended remorse, though I was actually a little amused. "Whoops," I whispered. "Sorry." I pulled a face.

Probably if Mistress had not been under the stress she was under, and probably if she had been paying a little more attention to me, she would have realized I was doing it on purpose. The little tremor I often get when I'm being naughty (some might call it the stirrings of my conscience) made me pull back. I finished the dishes in the sink more quietly.

A few minutes passed and I went about my work. I started the laundry down the hall. I left the laundry door open (this I did unthinkingly) and I heard the volume on the TV go up again. When I realized I was the reason, the stirring of my conscience came again, but this time my amusement forced it to flee. 

Back in the kitchen, I actually started the dishwasher. It's a quiet enough dishwasher, but the TV volume still went up a little. Then I felt the real thick naughtiness take me, and I decided to bake cookies. It would have been just fine if I had used the frozen dough in the freezer, but I was having none of that. The ingredients were in the high cabinets, so I had to climb around on counter tops and, as you can imagine, I did it with as much awkwardness and noise as possible. 

Every time the volume went up on the TV, I smiled a little. I know! I can hear the audience clicking their tongues and shaking stern fingers at me, but I have to say that in the midst of "naughty" it really does feel fun sometimes. 

I pounded things, crunched plastic bags, clattered utensils, and made a general clamor. But it was not until I actually put my Mistress' patience to the test that I crossed the line. I turned on the table-top mixer. 

This mixer is a prized possession of mine. Before Mistress bought it, I had been using an old beat-up hand mixer that required careful handling to keep from getting shocked. And the mixing beaters fell out of it more often than not. Mistress had heard me curse and snarl at that hand mixer for over a year before she brought home the aid for my kitchen. It was a beautiful piece of red magic, but it was not precisely a quiet appliance. 

I turned on the mixer and stood over it like a pleased steward as it mixed up the cookie dough as loudly and as obnoxiously as possible. The only thing I could have done to be more annoying was crush ice in the blender (but I knew better than to do that, because for Mistress, that sound is like nails on a chalkboard for others. In fact, in our house, we don't use "nails on a chalkboard" for an expression. Instead, we say "ice in a blender").

The thrill of it died out immediately when I realized the TV sound was muted and I felt Mistress' dark gaze. I turned innocently around, but my stomach flip-flopped, and I'm certain Mistress could see it in my face. She looked cross. 

"What are you doing?" she asked, in the clipped-off way that meant she was out of patience.

Innocence! "Nothing." I shrugged. "Just making a treat."

Exasperation exploded from Mistress, "Why?"

Now, I have to say for the record that at this point I began grasping for ways that her anger could not be my fault. It's a fairly natural tendency to try to think your way out of problems, so I grasped at the nearest lie that could turn her anger onto herself.

I made myself feel hurt and angry. "What do you mean 'why'? I knew you were having a hard week and I wanted to make you feel better!" Oh, I laid it on thick! The pouting, the glaring...

Mistress wasn't fooled. "Pura! How exactly is running the mixer while I'm watching a show going to make me feel better? You're driving me crazy!"

Leave it to Mistress to come right out with it! I started to cry now, and though the tears were definitely real, and the hurt I felt was also real, the shouted response was a calculation measured to get the response I wanted. "Just go back to your stupid show and I'll mix your damned cookies by hand!" And I wrestled the mixer to try and release the bowl from its authoritative grip.

Whack! Mistress had grabbed the nearest serving spoon, which happened to be one of those wicked slotted metal spoons, and laid it across my backside with authority. I cried out in shock and whirled around to face her. She looked utterly calm. 

"Do you think I'm okay with you talking to me like that?" she asked, so so calm.

"You're being mean!" I tried to grab the spoon from her hands. "I actually cook with that!"

She grabbed my hand and pulled me against the counter. I squirmed, but she slapped that spoon across my bottom several more times in quick succession. With no kind of warm-up, it was a fierce sting, and I jumped nearly out of my skin each time.

"Pura, why do I keep getting the feeling you're trying to bug me on purpose?" Mistress said, in the calm way she always uses when she disciplines. This was the moment I actually realized we had stumbled into discipline. It had been some few months since I had felt more than a playful swat or two, and I was remembering exactly how painful spankings actually were. But, I also did not feel like "bugging" her was a good enough reason for her to administer discipline.

"Because you're paranoid!" I snapped, and that disrespectful tone earned me another couple swats with that bloody spoon. "Because you're having a hard week, and you're looking for someone to take it out on."

Eek. Those words just slipped out in an attempt for me to gain the upper hand and get myself out of the trouble I had placed myself in. For a moment, I thought it worked. I was overwhelmed with guilt. Mistress set the spoon down quietly on the counter and walked away. 

Guilt is a funny thing. It was at least as painful as my throbbing backside, but the pride I felt at "winning" kept me from speaking up and taking back my hateful words, even though Mistress was quite right that I had been deliberately trying to distract her. And I in no way believed she was taking her frustrations out on me. In fact, she's so annoyingly careful about that, that I sometimes managed to get out of a spanking I actually deserved simply because she was not in the right frame-of-mind for it. 

I rubbed my bottom, but could not assuage my guilt. I did not dare to move too much, or to leave the kitchen, for fear my guilt would be read in my actions or my face. I clutched the counter with firm fingers and focused on breathing only.

A couple minutes passed in silence. I finally gathered myself well enough to begin putting away ingredients I had left on the counter. I glanced once around the corner to look at Mistress, and saw her turning the TV off completely.

I went quietly back into the kitchen, but then I heard her call, "Pura, come here," in her calmest voice. She had seen my reflection in the TV screen.

I did not dare disobey after all the manipulating I had done. I put down the things in my hands and went obediently to her. She did not give me the chance to sit down beside her or kneel in front of her as I often did. She looked up at me and her gaze stopped me in my tracks. She was so serious, so calm. 

"Do you think I am taking my frustrations out on you?" she asked coolly. I nibbled on my lip and shook my head no.

"Then why did you say it?" she asked, sitting forward on the couch and peering at me with those fiery eyes.

I squirmed. "I don't know," I lied. 

She nodded. "So, let me see if I fully understand this: You chose today, of all days, to help me reestablish my authority at home."

Now, I don't know how much of my readership has ever been on the receiving end of that kind of a question, but it is not cool. There is no right answer. 

"Mistress," I started, trying to apologize my way out of this before it actually began. Now that we were right up to it, I was rethinking my naughtiness. I was rethinking it with a vengeance, now that I was finally thinking clearly. 

She shook her head. "No," she ordered my silence. "I don't think your excuses will help you today." 

I would have said something then, if not for Mistress re-positioning herself on the couch and motioning me closer. Every piece of me rebelled, but I could find no legitimate reason to resist her. I took the necessary steps to deliver myself to her, and quickly found myself in the familiar position over her knees, staring at the business-end of a spanking. 

Mistress did not have any compassion for the long spanking-drought we had been under. She started hard and I was crying out between gritted teeth in a matter of moments. And if that was not bad enough, she started lecturing! Mistress never lectures while she spanks, so I would at this time like to take a moment to sarcastically thank all the HOHs whose blogs promote this type of behavior, because I am here to tell you, she did not learn it from me

I don't remember everything, or really much of anything, she said while I was over her knees, but all I knew is that while she was talking, the spanking was so, so much worse. 

I thought she was done when her hand stopped, and I was relieved to pull myself away from her lap. But she quite firmly pulled me back to her, and I realized that everything that had happened up to this point was a "warm-up." The sweatpants and panties came off and I collapsed across her lap again with a defeated cry. She was not even halfway done!

 I was crying rather steadily, and I was certain another smack would throw me over the edge when she finally finished. Even her gentle caress of my red backside made me jump and cry out. 

For a long time, I stayed where I was over her knees, my head buried in the couch. When I finally moved, she picked me up and placed me gently on the ottoman facing her. It would not have mattered how gently, because my backside was on fire, and the sudden added pressure of my weight made me cry out again. But I did not move from where she placed me. 

Mistress had an ironic little smile on her face, and she asked me, "Are you satisfied, Little Pura?"

I bit back the automatic curse that tried to form, because that would not have yielded good results. "What do you mean?" I asked her through my teeth.

Her smile grew. "Well, honey, it seems pretty obvious to me that you were asking for my attention. Now you have it."

I think I can safely say, I will be very careful of what I unintentionally ask for in the future. Mistress is apparently extremely literal.