Hi, guys. This story is kind of 'autobiographical', but the names have been changed to protect my bottom. <G> Hope you all like it.
Doing Your Chores
Prelude: It’s always a bad idea not to keep up with your chores, especially when ‘blowing them off’ means having to deal with a sore, sizzling, well-spanked bottom. ‘Keeping up’ is definitely a better idea. Unfortunately, this young lady learns a serious lesson the hard way.
I got another spanking last night. Rather, I got a paddling; a hard, endless, extremely painful paddling. As usual, it was my own fault. I blew off some of my more important chores -actually I just lost track of the time while surfing the Net and visiting some of my favorite Chat Rooms. Jamie was very angry when my ‘forgetfulness’ became apparent. First off, I forgot to take the garbage to the pick-up bin outside. So, when the city people came by, they didn’t empty ours because it only had one little bag in it. The one I forgot about was still inside the garage--where the neighborhood cats could get to it. The stuff inside it ended up all over the floor of the garage, near the back door. Not a pretty sight.
Then Jamie discovered my other ‘little mistake’; not only had I forgotten to take out the garbage, I had also not stopped at the store on the way home like she asked me to do. So, what she’d planned for supper had to be changed because she didn’t have the right things for the meatloaf and veggies she’d picked for tonight’s meal. And lastly, I remembered I hadn’t emptied the mailbox either, and that’s a real big mistake because most of the mail got wet from the rather vigorous shower we got yesterday afternoon.
That’s when she said I had earned a ‘serious punishment’. My tummy went to my toes and I started whimpering right then. I knew that meant I was going to get a hard paddling. I tried promising all sorts of things, but Jamie wasn’t moved by my tears. In fact, she turned me around right then and there and gave me a dozen hard swats with the flat, wooden spatula she had grabbed off the counter. Even over my jeans, those smacks really put a sting in my seat. While I was dancing and hopping around, trying to get away from the wooden menace, Jamie held on to my arm and kept swatting. By the time she stopped, I was already crying hard, trying to apologize for forgetting my chores and begging her not to use the paddle, if she was going to punish me.
Like I said, my tears didn’t earn me any forgiveness. After Jamie had used the spatula, she pulled me into the dining room and made me stand in the corner with my hands on my head. While I was squirming there, she reached around and undid the belt of my jeans, unzipped them and pulled them all the way down to my ankles. She knows I always feel like a baby when she pulls my pants down like that. I cried even harder when she reached up and pulled my underpants halfway down my legs, too. Then she gave me another six smacks with her hand and told me to stand perfectly still, right there in the corner, while she went to get the paddle from the bedroom. I was really howling then. I pleaded with her not to use the paddle, or at least not to paddle my bare bottom. But that didn’t work, either. Jamie was so angry by then, she wasn’t saying anything except ordering me not to move or rub my bottom while she was gone.
I swear it was only ten seconds later when she got back to the dining room with the paddle. I saw her marching toward me and started begging and pleading again. I could tell she was really furious by that time. She always hates it when I try and get out of being punished, especially when I know I really, really deserve it. Her expression was really dark and her mouth was set in a mean grimace. It only took her about three steps to cross the dining room to where I was standing. Then my bottom really started to suffer.
When she got next to me, she put her arm around my waist in the front and pulled me close into her stomach. She warned me to keep my hands on my head because, if I didn’t, she would be giving me ten extra strokes every time I moved them. I started bawling right away. I knew I was going to get a terrible paddling and it began in the next instant.
WHACK, WHACK, WHACK!! WHACK, WHACK, WHACK!!
The first smacks from the paddle landed hard, right across the middle of my poor bottom. Following so closely on the smacks from the spatula and Jamie’s hand, the stinging, scorching pain exploded across my butt like a hundred fiery needles. I started screaming and wiggling around, trying anything to get away from the next swat. But Jamie’s strong arm was around my middle and she wasn’t about to show my behind any mercy. I’m sure I was howling the same things I always try whenever my bottom is being blistered.
“OWWW! OWWW! JJJAAIIIMMEE! PLEEASE! OUCH! I’M SORRY! PLEASE STOP!!”
But, of course Jamie kept paddling, smacking back and forth across my scorched rear, until the entire area was engulfed in excruciating, rampaging pain. The punishment went on and on. I was sure she was going to paddle me the rest of the night.
SMACK! SPANK! SPANK! SMACK! SWAT! SWAT!
Jamie laid on the next series of swats slower and more deliberately, making sure each smack overlapped the one before it just a bit. Again and again, that wooden piece landed on my suffering backside, raising the level of agony even higher. Even though the paddle isn’t that thick - only about half an inch or so - it’s about ten inches long and three inches wide. When Jamie is using it, she makes sure it covers my bottom as completely as possible. And, with the holes drilled along the surface, she can bring it down hard and fast, to leave the worst kind of sting across my behind with devilish accuracy.
“JJAAIMEE! STOP, PLEEEASE! I’M SOORREE! I WON’T FORGET AGAIN, I PROMISE!”
I was wailing, babbling actually, trying to get even the slightest relief for my poor, suffering sitter. But each smack carried even more pain and burning agony.
“OWWW! OOOHHHOWWW!” was all I could manage by then.
I was sure my bottom would never recover from this paddling. I was hoarse from screaming. My feet were dancing, my hips were wiggling, I was desperate to save my tortured behind. But Jamie’s aim - and her determination - never wavered one tiny bit. My tears were covering my face and my bottom kept suffering.
SPANK! SPANK! SMACK! SMACK, SMACK, SMACK! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT!
Back and forth across my butt, smashing down on one cheek, then scorching the other, that vicious paddle kept landing. A couple of times, Jamie even brought it down on the sides of my bottom, an area that is particularly tender as it only gets paddled now and then. Tonight, Jamie made it a point to include some extra hard smacks on that region - three on the side of one cheek, three on the other side. I tried twisting and squirming out of the way, but of course Jamie was on a mission. And I kept screaming.
After what I was sure had been at least a hundred spanks, I couldn’t stand it any more. I tried lowering my hands to cover my poor bottom. I managed to get my right hand behind me because, with Jamie holding on to me, my left hand was being blocked out of the way. It was a very bad plan; the next two swats came down on the palm of my hand.
“AAAHHEE!” I shrieked, jerking my hand away. For an instant or two, the sting in my bottom took a back seat, so to speak. The paddle created a sizzling fire across my palm and the base of my fingers. “OOWWW!! OHHHOWW!” I squealed, putting my hand back in front of me, shaking it to try and get the sting to stop.
Now, Jamie was really mad. She absolutely hates it when I try and shield my bottom during a punishment. I knew better, it’s just that my butt was suffering so badly, I couldn’t help myself. Later, I would remember my mistake.
In the next moment, I would regret it with all my heart.
After she had smacked my hand, Jamie let go of my waist but she planted her left hand between my shoulder blades, keeping my body flat against the wall. She let me have a couple more hard smacks, then told me to put my hands behind my back.
“PLEASE, Jamie!” I tried to make up for my moment of weakness. “I’M SORRY!! I won’t do it again, I PROMISE!”
“Put your hands behind you!” she barked. “RIGHT NOW!”
She let me have another hard smack.
“OWWW! JAIMEE! PLEEEASE, NOOO!”
“Move your hands, Nicole!!” Jamie issued the order again. “Don’t make me move them for you!!” Her voice had gotten low and threatening.
I dropped my hands from my head and folded them across my back at my waist. Jamie took a rough hold on both my wrists, using the rest of her arm to keep me pinned against the wall. I tried pleading again, but she wasn’t having any of it. With me plastered against the dining room wall, she raised that paddle and brought it down hard, right across the back of my legs.
SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!”
“WWAAAAAAHH!” I shrieked as the dreadful, searing agony spread across the tender skin on the back of my thighs. I squirmed and wiggled with all my might, my knees drumming against the wall But Jamie kept me in position. She gave me another set of smacks across my bottom, then stopped. My screeching really got high-pitched, then.
She waited until the scorching pain in my bottom, and the raging inferno across my legs, had really registered in my brain. She let me sob for a while, then released my wrists and took hold of my left arm.
With my jeans pooled down around my feet, I stumbled sideways as Jamie pulled me away from the wall and over to the dining room table. Without realizing it, I let my hands drift down to my bottom. Even just having my own fingers brush those hot, pulsing cheeks brought more pain to the area. But I held on to those sizzling globes, trying to protect them from more punishment. Luckily, Jamie didn’t notice.
Still holding on to my arm, she pulled me forward until my stomach was resting on the table’s surface. The force of the action made me let go of my bottom and brace myself on the table. Jamie took a moment to pull my panties down even further, then she planted her hand in the small of my back. I realized my spanking was not over yet and foolishly started to reach back to cover my bottom again. The next six spanks were among the hardest I’ve ever received in all the spankings I’ve had from Jamie.
SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!
The miserable swats came down full and hard across my already-tormented butt and left a pain like nothing I’d ever endured before. Jamie took her time, placing each one at the very lower edge of my bottom, swinging upward to catch what she calls ‘the sit spot’ with every stroke. I tried lifting myself up, out of the way. But Jamie just waited for me to stop wiggling, then put the paddle across the same areas again.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SWAT! SWAT! SPANK!
My screams were shrill and high again as my hips jerked back and forth. I tried yanking my bottom sideways, but with Jamie’s hand pressing on my back, I had no escape. Those swats created a fire at the very edge of my butt that now matched the rest of the throbbing surface.
“WAAAAGH! OOOWWWW! OOHHHOWWW! WAAAH!! WAAAGH!!”
I was sobbing hard, almost not catching a new breath as the air came out of my lungs. I braced my hands against the table, trying to gain a little leverage, but to no avail. I bounced up and down on my toes; no relief. Jamie let me howl for a moment, then gave me two final swats. My bottom was now completely incinerated. I couldn’t even howl anymore.
Finally, Jamie’s arm dropped with the paddle in her hand. She let me sob there for several minutes, the side of my face pressed against the table. My shoulders ached from trying to arch away from the paddle and my bottom throbbed with unlimited, unequaled pain. I had been totally and effectively punished.
Jamie let me cry for a while longer. After a minute or so, I became vaguely aware that she was moving one of the dining room chairs, turning it around so that the back of the chair sat against the table. At the moment, my brain was too full of the wicked throbbing in my bottom to figure out what her actions meant. I found out all too clearly very soon.
Taking another hold on my arm, Jamie pulled me upright until I was almost in a standing position. She laid the paddle down on the table before she took hold of both my shoulders and maneuvered me around in front of the chair she’d moved. With the way she was holding onto my arms, I couldn’t manage to get my hands anywhere near my poor sitter. My sobbing calmed down a little, until I heard what Jamie was telling me to do.
“Sit down, right here,” she ordered. “Keep your feet together and your hands on your knees.” With that, she began using her grip on my arms to lower me into the chair. Just the thought of trying to sit down with my bottom so terribly abused brought on more intense sobbing and more pleading.
“Nooo, Jamie!” I began. “My bottom is so sore! Don’t make me sit down, I…”
A split second later, I found my butt being firmly planted on the hard seat of the wooden chair. The blast of pain that invaded my behind at that moment made my body shoot up again. I grabbed my aching butt and tried to escape Jamie’s iron grip. Jamie spun me around, and even with my free hand in place across my bottom, she managed to find an unprotected spot and brought her hand down square across it. I screamed as the new pain exploded across my tender rear.
“WAAAA! JAAIMEE, PLEEEASE! NOOO!”
In the next instant, Jamie spun me back around and, now using her grip on both my arms, planted me firmly back on the hard chair seat. This time, Jamie kept her hands on my shoulders, preventing me from standing up again. I sat there, screaming and squirming, while wave after wave of misery swept over my pulsing bottom. I tried using my hands to lift off the chair seat, but Jamie kept me there, sitting on an extremely sore butt and howling my head off.
“Hands on your knees, Nicole!” Jamie growled. “Get them down on your legs or I’ll take the paddle across your palms.” I squealed again. “Now! Move your hands!”
Finally, my brain kicked into gear and I somehow managed to lay my hands flat on my own knees. I was still wiggling and twisting on the chair, but at least I was accepting my fate. Jamie kept her hands in place for another minute, then let go of my shoulders. She stood in front of me, pointing a ominous finger at my nose.
“You will sit there for twenty minutes, young lady,” Jamie pronounced. “Move from that spot or rub your bottom and we’ll start all over again. Understand??”
“Jamie, please,” I pleaded, writhing on the hard chair. “My bottom is sooo sooore…”
“Sit still!!” Jamie yelled, her hands on her hips.
I was still blubbering and fidgeting on the hard surface. But eventually, I began sniffling and simply crying. My hands tensed on my knees, longing to slip under me to give my bottom some reprieve. But with Jamie glaring at me, I didn’t dare. I had to sit there and endure the unbridled grief that pounded across my rear. After a few minutes, Jamie picked up the paddle and left the dining room, giving me one last threatening glower before returning to the kitchen. I could still feel the torment raging across the backs of my legs and thumping madly in my rear. But I knew, if I didn’t want even more agony leveled at my bottom, I’d better sit there and suffer through my ‘after punishment’ punishment.
After twenty minutes of torture, Jamie returned to the dining room. I could tell she was still very upset with me, but her expression was now mixed with a sad disappointment. She walked toward me, drying her hands on one of our dish towels. When she was in front of me, I found I couldn’t meet her eyes, but kept my gaze instead on the carpet in front of the chair. Jamie just stood there, looking at me for a long, long minute. Finally, she spoke.
“Your little bottom’s really suffering, huh?” she asked quietly, a sincerely concerned look on her face. I felt the tears coming again, so all I could do was nod ‘Yes’. When I finally got up enough nerve to meet her soft brown eyes, we stared at each other for a moment before I found the courage to talk.
“I’m sorry, Jamie,” I tried, my voice wavering with my tears. “I won’t forget to do my chores ever again, I promise. Honest, I’m going to…”
Jamie leaned forward an gave me a sweet, soft kiss, stopping my rambling apology in mid sentence. When she leaned back again, there was a little smile on her face.
“I know you won’t, Chicklet,” she said, using her favorite nickname for me. I found myself tearing up again, as always feeling very much like a naughty child sitting there on my still very sore butt. Jamie took her fingers and brushed my hair away from my face, running her long digits through my tousled mop. “I figure the way your cute little butt feels right now, it’ll be a long, long time before I have to remind you about taking out the garbage.” She paused, just watching my face. “Right?”
“Yes, Jamie,” I whispered, still unable to talk around the lump in my throat. “I won’t forget again. That’s for sure.”
Jamie flipped the dishtowel over one shoulder and held out her hand. I put mine in hers, mildly surprised at how soft it felt when it wasn’t smacking my bottom so hard. She helped me stand up and waited there while I pulled up my panties and jeans. I let them rest just under my bottom; even the thought of pulling them all the way up made my cringe. When I was holding my clothes in place, Jamie put her long arm around my shoulders and started us walking toward the hall where the bedrooms are in the house. I moved stiffly as the movement gave my bottom a jolt with every step I took.
“You’ll be sleeping in your old room tonight, Sweetie,” Jamie told me. My face must have shown my disappointment. Almost worse than Jamie administering a hard, long-lasting spanking, was me being banished to what was now our guest room, once Jamie and I started sharing the other, larger room. I felt a new wave of tears slipping down over my face.
Jamie gently wiped the moisture away with the dishtowel. “Consider it tonight’s alternative to corner time, Chicklet.” She waited while I gulped a few times. “I’m still plenty mad at you, but I figured sleeping by yourself, with your bottom as sore as it is, will serve the same purpose of you standing with your nose to the wall.” By now we had arrived at the bathroom.
“So, brush your teeth and wash your face. Come get your PJ’s when you’re ready.” I tried one more plaintive look, but I knew right away Jamie wasn’t going to budge from this judgment, either.
“I’ll be in the guest room to tuck you in when you’re ready.” She gave me a little push toward the bathroom. “Go on. I know it’s early yet, but your punishment also includes going to bed without supper, tonight.” I was still hesitating, standing there in the hall, my very red, very bare bottom displayed as clear as day. I found my fingers playing with the waistband of my jeans.
“Jamie..do I have to?” I could feel the tears flooding down over my blushing face.
“Yes, Baby. You have to. Now go on, before I have to dust your hind end again.”
I swallowed in blank surprise. It was another clear, however quietly delivered, threat of more spanks on my bottom, which at the moment, suffered in its most uncomfortable state ever. I shuffled into the bathroom to get ready for bed.
Sure enough, fifteen minutes later, when I walked stiffly into the guest room, there was Jamie. She was holding a big glass of ice cold milk and a small plate with three ginger snap cookies on it. After I slowly lowered my still-throbbing bottom onto the firm mattress of the single bed, she handed me the milk and put the plate of cookies down on the night stand. I took a sip of the milk and a deep, ragged breath.
Jamie leaned down and gave me another warm, lingering kiss. That rascal knew she was making me look forward to missing her even more during the long night ahead. After our kiss, she put her hand under my chin and leaned down until our foreheads were almost touching.
“I love you, Sweet Thing. Try and get some rest, OK?” All I could do was blink my tears away. “See you in the morning. Good night.”
With that, Jamie turned and left the room. I finished my milk and ate about half of one of the cookies, but it didn’t taste nearly as good as usual. The throbbing in my bottom kind of distracted me from enjoying my favorite snack. I put the milk glass down, turned off the light and rolled over onto my stomach. Even the lightweight coverlet on the bed was too much weight on my sore bottom. After hopelessly trying to get comfortable, I threw off the covers again, took off the bottom of my PJ’s, then crawled back into bed. Still, even without clothes, my bottom was still thumping away. I closed my eyes and tried to get to sleep.
Today is Saturday and I’m lying on my tummy to write this because my bottom is still way too sore to try sitting down. Jamie is at her office this morning, catching up on some work while I figure out a way to do my assignments for next week while standing at my computer. I might try sitting on a pillow later. Right now, it’s not even a remote idea.
Of course, before I do one more thing, I’m going to finish up my Saturday chores because I don’t even want to think about what Jamie would do to my bottom if I put any of them off again.
No, I don’t even want to think about that. Doing my chores, and on time, is a much better idea. I’m sure my bottom would agree.
THE (still recovering) END
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Love, DHGDoing Your Chores