She moved slowly to him, and with trepidation, lowered herself to lay across his lap, her hands grabbing the bottom rungs of the chair for support. His fingers hooked into the waistband of her panties, and in one swift flick of his wrist they came to rest at her ankles.
He covered her bottom with one large hand, and rested it there for a moment. She enjoyed the soft caress, and welcomed it, knowing it would not last for very long. When his hand left her bottom, she braced herself for the first calculated blow.
Smack! It took her breath away. The first and last were always the hardest. She lay still, reminding herself that this was only the beginning, as he began to pepper her backside with a barrage of heavy-handed swats. He never struck the same place twice, sure to warm every inch of skin in preparation for her actual punishment. She never knew where the next swat would land, he followed no pattern. Left, right, top, bottom, left again. She breathed through it, focusing on the reason behind the pain. When he shifted his legs, tilting her so that she was almost nose to nose with the carpet, so he could reach her sit-spot, she knew he was almost finished.
When she was thoroughly warmed, he paused, his hand hovering above her cheeks—the heat test, he called it. She must have passed, because he dropped his hand and began to rub in slow circles.
“You’ll get the paddle and the belt tonight, for the two outright lies you told to me at the clinic last week, but because I’m feeling generous, I’ll let you choose what I will use first.”
She scoffed at this, his idea of being generous, and because there wasn’t really a choice to be made. It was a no brainer. “Paddle first.” She could handle the unforgiving stripes of the belt atop the deeper duller pain of the paddle, but not the other way around.
His hand on her back kept her from falling over as he leaned to fetch the paddle. The cold hard wood kissed her warm bottom, seeming more like friend than foe, but she wouldn’t be fooled, she knew better.
He didn’t give a number to count to or anything to go by. That was always the worst. No gauge to measure, no looking forward to sweet relief. The cool whisper of the wood left her bottom, and she instinctively winced. The paddle came down across the middle of her tender backside with a mighty crack, and pain exploded behind her eyes. She had forgotten how unforgiving wood could be, and how stingy.
Wood met bare skin over, and over again keeping to no pattern in particular as he went to work making sure she was well and truly punished. Some of the swats were light and stingy, almost enjoyable, but just when she began to relax, he would lay down a hard one, right across a tender crease. The ones that fell across the crack of her cheeks were always the worst.
He paused, and she tensed across his lap. Was he finished? CRACK! The paddle came down hard across the bottom of her cheeks, and she bucked against him. Her hands flew back to protect herself from the path of the paddle. Beau calmly moved them, pinning them across her back with one hand. “You will not lie to me again! Each word was punctuated with a hearty spank across the middle of her backside.
It was the words that broke her, it always was, and as soon as he began to speak, the tears began to fall. “I’m sorrrreeee,” she sobbed, falling limp, her fight all gone.
“You will be,” he told her. “Five more. Count them out, and after each one, say ‘I will not lie to my husband.’”
She closed her eyes, and exhaled, waiting for the next blow of the paddle. The crack of wood against her already tender bottom made her scream out in agony. “ONNNEEE, I will not lie to my husband!”
The last word had barely left her mouth before the paddle met its target a second time. “Twwwwooo” she shrieked, her legs kicking up to cover her bottom. “I will not lie to my husband.”
He flattened her legs, and crossed one of his over the top, effectively pinning her in place. She had not an inch of wiggle room. She felt the whoosh of air as his arm drew back and the force of the wind it brought with it on its way down. Crack! The paddle met its mark with a mighty clap that echoed off the walls, and her cry of “Three” was really more of a whimper this time. “I will not lie to my husband!” It was a rushed cry, of words that melted together in her breathless delivery. Her ass was on fire, and she knew it would be flaming hot to the touch, and swollen to boot.
The hard flat wood fell again, this time upon her already very sore and tender sit spots, and she erupted into sobs. She managed, just barely to gurgle out the required statement, and she had no idea if it was coherent in the least bit, but Beau didn’t ask her to repeat it.
The final stroke knocked the wind clear out of her; he sure wasn’t going easy on her at all. She attempted, as soon as it was over to scramble off his lap, but a well-placed hand on the small of her back, and his legs still crossed over hers held her in place. “I’m waiting.”
“F—ivvve,” she cried through her tears. “I will not lie to my husband! I’m sorryyyyy.”
Beau immediately shushed her, murmuring as he rubbed her aching backside. His cool hands felt amazing against the scorched flesh of her very well spanked bottom. His fingers worked the swollen flesh, massaging and caressing, in a way that felt wonderful and horrible simultaneously. When they made their way south to the v between her legs, she stiffened. To her abject horror and utter amazement, she was dripping wet. Beau noticed at the same time she did, his fingers squeezing her swollen nub. “Oh, wow, baby, your pussy is so wet for me. Someone enjoyed her spanking a little too much it looks like.”
She whimpered in response, and pushed against his fingers, her body instinctively seeking the release it craved. He tsked, clicking his tongue at her and withdrew his fingers, before tapping her bottom with the flat of his hand. “Not yet, baby. Maybe later if you’re a good girl for the rest of your punishment.”
Ginger moaned softly, grinding her body against his lap. As she felt his rock hard erection pressing into her stomach, for a minute, she entertained the idea that her feminine wiles might be successful in distracting him from carrying out the rest of her punishment.
She should have known better. In no less than sixty seconds flat, he had released her from his hold, and pulled her into a standing position in front of him.
Standing there naked, except for her bra, she knew it was not only her bottom that was red as his hot gaze raked over every inch of her nearly naked body.
He stood, and grasped her shoulders, placing her in front of the chair, facing away from him. She hated this position with a passion. As she bent over and grabbed hold of the back of the chair for support, she knew he had a clear and unobstructed view of her private lady bits. He tapped her inner thigh, and she spread her legs further apart, obediently, flushing to the roots of her hair as she did so.
In this position, she had a clear view of the implements on the table in front of her. When Beau reached over, she expected him to go for the belt. He picked up the baggie that held the ginger root plug instead and her heart dropped to her stomach. Still bent awkwardly over the chair, she closed her eyes and lay her head across her hands. His large hands cupped her bottom, pulling her clenched cheeks apart. He penetrated her private hole with his finger, readying her for what was soon to come. Equal parts shame and lust overwhelmed her. She was about to be anally punished, and the idea while terrifying was also titillating. Ginger had never had anything more than his finger inside of her there, and she wondered if he would want to take her anally when he was finished with her. Her cheeks flamed, where were these naughty thoughts coming from?
Beau’s voice was hard and gruff, breaking her from her fantasies and dragging her back into an equally fascinating reality. “Hold your cheeks open for me. I’m going to insert this plug into your tight ass, and then I’m going to whip you with my belt, because that is the punishment for naughty girls who lie to their husbands.”
Whimpering, she reached behind her and parted her bottom cheeks with her own two hands, incapable of anything but abject obedience at this point. He held her firmly around the waist with one hand, and the other gras
ped the evil root. She tensed as the tip penetrated her anus, bracing herself for the indescribable pain she was sure would come immediately. Some HoHs might have toyed with her, drawn out the ordeal by fucking her ass with the root beforehand, but Beau didn’t do that. He went straight to the point, pushing it slowly, up to the notched pivot until it was firmly situated inside of her. For a moment, she felt nothing besides the intrusion, relaxing as this must be some sort of weird urban legend in the spanko community. That thought was vanquished as the fullness of the root was replaced by the slight burn slowly building inside her. Her back went rigid as the burn intensified, her discomfort level gradually becoming more and more unbearable with each passing minute. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she bounced on the balls of her feet, desperately wishing for an escape from the pain.
“Hmmm,” her husband murmured from behind her. “Looks like you’re feeling it now, aren’t you? Are you going to think twice about lying to me in the future?”
“Yessss,” she hissed. “I’ll never lie to you again, please take it out! Pleeeease.” She was burning up from the inside out, and not at all above begging to get what she wanted.
“No, I want to make sure you remember this for a long time to come. You’re going to keep it in, while I finish your spanking. And don’t clench, it will only make it worse.”
She breathed through the pain, watching through her tears as he picked the belt up off the table, and doubled it over in his hands.
He stilled her squirming form with a well-placed palm at the small of her back, and stepped behind her. She knew he was gauging his swing. The first lash of the leather hit the crease between bottom and thigh. She cried out, as she clenched against the pain, the ginger inside of her as she did so. The leather struck again and again. He wasn’t so cruel as to make her count this time. The sting of the leather on bare skin was nothing compared to the burn of the ginger root wedged inside her tight hole. It took every bit of consciousness she had not to clench as he laid down stripe after stripe on her poor raw flesh. It went on far longer than she thought she could handle. A pattern of punishment: bite of the belt, burn of the root, bite of the belt, burn of the root. She knew she wouldn’t sit tomorrow, and she swore aloud that she would never lie again.
Beau was not paying any attention to her pleading cries, or her pledges of honesty and obedience, but she could feel his gaze burning into her, and she knew that he was watching her carefully, and would not cross the line into more than she could handle. Finally, the last stroke of the belt fell, catching her on the plumpest part of her bottom, laying a stripe over the top of several existing ones, and she hissed against the pain. Her hands flew back to cover herself, blocking him from delivering any further punishment to her glowing globes.
Chuckling, Beau moved her hands, dropping them to her sides, and scooped her up in his arms, careful not to touch any part of her throbbing backside as it hung in the open air between his arms. “A little late there, sweetie, I was already done.”
He set her on her stomach across the couch, and knelt on the floor beside her, wiping her tears with his crooked finger. “You did so good, baby. I hope you learned your lesson. I never want to have to do that again.”
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered through her quiet sobs. “Please take it out. Please.”
He tapped the base of the plug where it stuck out from the crease between her cheeks. “Not yet. I’m going upstairs to get the arnica, and a washcloth, and while I’m gone, I want you to spend a few more minutes thinking about how you got yourself into this position.”
While he was gone, Ginger took silent stock. Her ass of course, was flaming hot and raw, and probably would be for a few days at least. The ginger was burning her up from the inside out, making sure she would never so stubbornly lie or keep secrets again. She reckoned she should feel utterly humiliated, and repentant, and overall completely miserable, but she felt oddly at peace, and certainly calmer and less broken than she had in months. She knew she would never fully understand the healing power a good spanking seemed to have, but she was inherently grateful for it.
Beau returned quickly with the necessary items and went to work on her backside immediately. The arnica cream felt cool and soothing, but the process of rubbing it in was not always a gentle one. She sometimes wondered if she would be better off without it, but she knew from experience it worked wonders at preventing bruising, and after the spanking she had just endured, she needed all the help she could get.
He gently worked the cream into her tender flesh, before moving his attentions upwards to her lower back. Standing in such a prone position had left her back tight and crampy and his ministrations were welcome. Ginger gave a contented sigh and melted into the couch cushions.
“You’re gonna be sore for a while, but I’ll bet you’ll think twice before lying or keeping things from me again, won’t you?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I’m going to be keeping a close eye on you. I want you to make sure you follow Dr. Devon’s instructions to the letter from here on out, and see Traci at least once a week, understand? Failure to do any of these things will be considered direct disobedience and have serious consequences.”
“Yes, Sir.” It was funny how simple instructions that should make her indignant turned her insides to mush, and sent thrills of desire to her lady parts.
“We’ll be having a talk tomorrow about what else I expect from you.” His hands were still kneading the tight muscles in her lower back, but he stopped then, and softly caressed her striped rear end. “I never want to have to punish you like this again, but if you lie or put yourself in danger, I will make this seem like a walk in the park.”
“Yes, Sir,” she responded meekly, desperately wishing he would do less talking and more rubbing. His hands came to rest between her bottom cheeks, gripping the base of the plug, but he didn’t remove it. To her dismay, he continued lecturing, tapping it intermittently as he spoke, and sending coursing waves of the evil juice deeper inside of her with each light tap.
“This spanking doesn’t mean everything is all better, and that you can get lax with your health, or that the problem is already fixed. It just means I’m going to be dealing with it differently from now on.”
“Okay,” she whined. “I get it!” She had to be crazy for talking to him like that with a striped bottom, and a root up her ass, but she was done with talking.
* * * * *
Beau frowned at her, but he seemed to sense that it wasn’t out of disrespect or lack of cooperation, but from something else entirely. He gripped the root, and dislodged it with one firm yank, disposing of it back into the baggie it had come from for now. He would get rid of it later.
For now, he lifted her into his arms, and awkwardly lowered himself onto the couch, positioning her in his lap, holding his legs open so that her very scorched bottom sat between them, free of the scratchy denim pants he wore.
He wiped her tears, and gently kissed her cheeks, making sure she was okay. Seeing that she was, he lowered his lips to meet hers and kissed her sweetly and reverently. Ginger was not in a sweet or reverent mood. She was horny as hell, and she let him know it. She deepened her kiss, frantic and urgent in her lip lock, her fingers pulled at his hair and clawed at his shirt. He got the message, and lifted her off of his lap, and onto the couch beside him so that he could quickly divest himself of his clothing, until he was down to only his navy blue boxer briefs. Ginger watched him as he stripped, grinning like a Cheshire cat the whole time. Her eyes never strayed from his, as she tauntingly stroked her pale skin, beginning at her breasts and working her way down slowly.
“You are a naughty girl, aren’t you?” he growled, lowering himself on top of her. His hands raked through her thick hair, and pulled at her taut nipples until she was screaming with desire and need. “Please. Beau, Please!” she panted.
“Please what?” He looked at her, questioningly, his face clouded with arousal. “What do you want?”
Oh, god, he was g
oing to make her say it. “Please, Sir, fuck me,” she whispered, blushing wildly as she always did when he made her talk dirty. “Please fuck my bottom.”
The look on his face was incredulous, and very, very happy. Anal sex was not something they had ever done, but it was all she could think about, and she knew she wanted it.
“Are you sure?” He scrutinized her face as if he wasn’t quite sure he had heard correctly.
She swallowed thickly. “I want…I want your cock in my ass, please.”
“Turn around.” His voice was low, and thick with desire. She was beyond anything but abject obedience. He took her by the arm, and led her to the side of the couch, lowering her gently until she was bent backward over the arm of the couch, a position she had been in many times before. This time was different. She was equal parts nervous and excited, and incredibly turned on by his dominance.
Standing behind her, he wrapped his arms wrapped around her waist. He cupped her wet mound, his fingers strumming inside her pussy, he filled her, until she was pulsing and contracting around him. Beau chuckled and quickly extracted his fingers. She heard the tell-tale pop of the container of lube, and shuddered as he generously covered her hole with the cold, wet liquid before probing her tight hole with a single digit.
“Is this where you want my cock?” he growled, as he slowly finger fucked her tight hole.
“Yes, please, now,” she whimpered, grinding her hips to the rhythm of his maneuvers, bereft when his finger finally left her.
She felt him step out of his boxers, and position himself behind her, as close as they could be without their bodies actually touching.
The tip of his erection grazed her back door, and she tingled in anticipation. He braced himself, gripping her hips tightly for balance, and slowly pushed closer, until he penetrated her tight entrance. She instinctively clenched, as he entered her. The feeling was so different, she didn’t know quite what she was feeling. There was a slight burn, and a bit of foreign discomfort, but after she relaxed and her body adjusted, she mostly felt the sensation of satisfying fullness.
Ginger Up Page 11
