I almost gasped aloud as Lizzie’s unblemished, round bare bottom came into view. I bit my tongue and kept watching, thoroughly rapt.

“What’s about to happen, Elizabeth?”

“I... uhh... I’m going to g-get a sp-spanking...”

“And what for?”

“F-for keeping the portable TV on the edge of the tub...” Lizzie squeaked out in a small voice.

“That’s right. I cannot stress hard enough how childish and irresponsible that is.” John’s voice, while still controlled, was much firmer now.

Lizzie just hung her head and nodded, her toes twisting the carpet. There was a few seconds’ wait, then, Lizzie’s small body was ushered across the man’s thighs. It was only then I noticed how bigger John was when compared to her; stretched out across his lap like that, the girl looked even younger. Or perhaps it was the juvenile position she was being forced in. I wouldn’t know for sure; my eyes remained on her bare bottom the whole time, until...

SMACK!

John’s hand struck powerfully across both of her cheeks, and that’s literal, since it covered most of them. Lizzie gasped and whimpered, but otherwise stayed in position. The swat was repeated (SMACK!) just as loudly, and two mingled handprints turned the fair skin rosy.

After that, John got into a regular rhythm of smacks, making sure to cover the whole of his young wife’s backside, from top of the buttocks to where thighs and bottom meet. Lizzie grew more and more vocal as the swats came, yelping with each one and waving her head to the sides.

“Am I getting through to you, young lady?” John addressed her, not missing a beat.

“Owww yessir!” she wailed, nodding for emphasis.

I licked my dry lips, not quite believing my ears. That made me look on even more captivated. John kept up spanking Lizzie with a steady pace for a long time, or at least, so it seemed to me. Lizzie might have shared my view, though, judging from her reactions.

She squirmed, bucked and kicked across her husband’s lap, her protests growing louder and soon escalating into tearful apologies. John seemed to take no notice, and spanked the same way over and over again, often visiting the same places with his hand several times in a row before moving on. I realised Lizzie’s cries went up a notch in those cases, and she made a true effort to scramble off his lap. A futile effort though, as he easily restrained her with his free arm.

I realised, as Lizzie must have, that as long as he wanted to keep on spanking her she would not go anywhere.

Whack!! Whack!! Whack!! Whack!!

Four extra-hard swats aimed to her lower buttocks sealed the end of the spanking. I didn’t have a watch and I wouldn’t have cared to look anyway, but I could say he’d been spanking her for close to two or three minutes. Lizzie was in tears and not trying to conceal it. She cried bitterly in her hands, at times brushing a straw of hair away from her wet face.

John kept a stone face throughout her antics, simply watching and waiting until she got herself together. Slowly, Lizzie brought one hand back and nursed her bright red behind, gently kneading it and leaving white trails where she’d pinched the scalded flesh. She seemed to focus on her sit-spots in particular, and would groan louder at some of her own ministrations.

Eventually she calmed down a bit, and rode off his lap, kneeling by the side of the chair. John reached over and lifted her teary face.

“Lizzie? Now I’m going to give you the strap, for your carelessness and irresponsibility. It will be three lashes – unless you reach back or move out of position, in which case, I shall add extras. Is that understood, missy?”

The girl had been nodding throughout the lecture, making me feel like this was some kind of routine too and she knew exactly what was about to be said.

“Yes sir,” she replied compliantly.

“Good. Up you get, and prepare yourself.”

I didn’t know how one could ‘prepare oneself’ for a strapping. I wasn’t new to spankings, having witnessed and received more than a few in my childhood, but I was definitely a novice to that kind of approach. I thought that if someone told me to ‘prepare myself’, I wouldn’t know how.

Lizzie did, though, as she stood and gingerly took a few steps towards the desk. There she stopped, and her tears sprang anew as she beheld John picking up the strap.

Her resolution seemed to fail her: “Puh-lllease John... please don’t strap me!... I get the point...”

Her voice was trembling, and her hands wouldn’t stop rubbing her bare bottom. I found myself thinking that heck, yes, I would have been compassionate at that point – but John was unmoved.

“No, Lizzie. You know our rules very well. I am going easy on you with three lashes. Don’t make me add any. Please, bend over.”

He tapped the desk with the strap for emphasis, though the tone of his voice wasn’t one to welcome arguments to begin with. At last Lizzie must have realised there was no way out of this one, for she sighed audibly and nodded her head.

I expected to see her bend over the desk... but instead, she grabbed the hem of her T-shirt and pulled up. In seconds she was nude, and I gulped. I had found everything I could possibly wish for in Crystal, and had nothing to desire from other women... but it was a remarkable sight nonetheless.

Now, finally, Lizzie bent over the desk, naked as the day she was born and possibly much more, given the situation. Petite as she was, she didn’t quite reach the other side. John helped her up, so that Lizzie grasped the opposite edge of the desk with both hands; as a result, her bare feet were off the floor, dangling at mid-air.

She waited there, her bright red bottom the highest point of her body, sobbing quietly to herself as John stood to her left behind her. He placed his free hand on the small of her back to help her steady herself. The wait seemed endless, but at last, he took aim, raised the strap, and brought it down with a loud cracking sound across Lizzie’s bottom.

CRACK!!

“Aaaaiiiieeee!!!”

Her scream was immediate and ear-piercing. The strap had struck dead centre on her bottom cheeks, wrapping itself around to bite cruelly into her sides as well. A white stripe appeared and quickly turned red. Within seconds, it was scarlet.

Even from where I stood, I could see several small marks all around the stripe; I was no expert, but it was logical to assume the borders weren’t very smooth and had dug deeper into the flesh.

After her shriek, poor Lizzie had dissolved into loud bawling. She twitched and clenched her bottom, evidently trying to relive the sting, and kicked her feet and legs as much as her distressed position would allow. John looked on without a word, but did wait patiently until her crying was a bit more under control.

The stripe was crimson red by now, and when I saw John load the following blow, I wondered what would happen if he hit right on the same spot.....

CRACK!!

“Owwwoohoooowwwww!!”

He didn’t. The strap landed just an inch lower, branding the whole of Lizzie’s sitting area from side to side. She was keeping her legs tightly clasped together, or I can imagine the leather would sting there where it is not supposed to.

She was still in excruciating pain as it was, though, as another scarlet red stripe appeared on her flesh. This looked worse than the other, but maybe it was just me.

“Johnnnn pleeeease!” Lizzie begged through her many tears.

“Only one more to go, my dear,” the man replied, not losing his composure.

“But it hurrrttsss!”

“I know. You could have died, Lizzie, and we would not be together anymore now.” Somehow he managed to keep his voice steely and sweet at the same time. “I do not want that to happen. That is why I am punishing you. Keep that in mind, love.”

Lizzie looked like she wanted to say – or rather, blubber – something, but she had no time to. The strap rose and fell a third time, now across her thighs. The leather made a loud SPLATT!! sound when it struck the fuller flesh, and again it wrapped around the sides like a slithering snake.

“Aaaahhhhhh!!”

The girl screamed again, and one hand left its place and darted backwards. I held my breath... It must have registered in her mind, though, what that would mean, because the hand never reached its target. Unsteadily and shakily, Lizzie stayed in position, sobbing and howling loudly now.

John left the strap on the chair and bodily picked up his wife under her armpits. He held her close, and Lizzie literally clung to the man who’d just strapped her, and cried away in his robe. A hand eventually shot back to rub, but this time he helped with one of his.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he whispered, almost inaudibly to me now. “It’s over... I love you, honey...”

A few more things were said, which I couldn’t quite grasp from where I stood. Lizzie nodded and even tried to smile a little, but soon collapsed into a new fit of sobs and just cried broken-heartedly on his chest.

They stood like that for quite some time before breaking the hug. I could see that the girl’s face was contorted in a distressed grimace, sweaty and flustered. He gently dried her tears away with a tissue, then blew her nose. Her smile was larger now, and so was his. They kissed gently.

I understood it was time to leave. I could be caught standing there if they decided to walk out of the study, and I didn’t want that. With one last look to husband and wife hugging, I walked slowly back upstairs to wake up Crystal.

That is, unless Lizzie’s blood-curling screams hadn’t done that already.

– End of Part Two –

This story does not necessarily represent the author’s point of view about anything. It is simply a work of fiction . The characters herein portrayed are invented and do not resemble reality to the best of the author’s knowledge. This account is entirely fictitious . Any similarities to other persons, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.

This story is written for the sane amusement of adult readers. It does not intend harm and does not promote violence of any kind, including spanking. No offence is meant to any group, ethnicity or individuals.

The author does in no way endorse the non-consensual disciplinary spanking of actual children and / or teenagers.

Copyright © 2005 Haley Brimley . Contact for information and / or feedback.