MercilessDomme
07-09-2009, 06:51 PM
This is a true story. The lady is even called Brenda. If there is any interest, I will write some more about my relationship with her, and how it came to be.
On Thursdays, Brenda's kids have sports after school. Brenda finishes work at 3. So by 3:15, Brenda is at my house, knocking on the door to let me know she has arrived. I leave her for a little while, then open the door.
This afternoon, she is dressed as usual, in a plain one piece dress that falls above the knee, bare legs and black high heels. Her long brown hair is tied back, and she is properly made up with eyeliner and lipstick. It's chilly and she shivers slightly without a coat.
Brenda is 45, ten years older than me. She is still good looking, if a bit plump. She is pear shaped, with small breasts and a big rear. I like a big behind on women; it has advantages.
I give her no greeting, nor she to me. She just steps inside and slips off her shoes. "The bathroom needs extra work today" I say. "Hang out the laundry, too". "Yes Maam" she replies. She sets to work briskly. There is a lot for her to do.
The first thing she does is make me a cup of tea. She knows to do that first every week. I sit and enjoy it, reading a magazine while Brenda cleans my house.
Brenda has to go by 5, so at 4:45 I check the house. As usual, she has done a good job. That's annoying. Then I remember the laundry so I go and check the clothesline where I see something wrong. I call Brenda to come outside. One of the socks is lying on the ground. She is very apologetic and hangs it up quickly, but she already knows she is in trouble.
We go back inside. My daughter is in the living room watching TV so I need to use a bit of discretion, as usual for Thursdays.
"I have something to discuss with you in private, Brenda. Please come into my bedroom" I say. Brenda looks scared but of course she goes to the bedroom. I check that my son is where he normally is; in the playroom on the computer.
After going back inside the bedroom I lock the door. "Assume the position" I say. Brenda does not answer with words. She simply moves to stand with her legs spread, puts her knees against the bed and slips her panties down to her knees. She grabs her dress with both hands, and hitches it up above her hips. Then she leans forward and sticks her big bare bum toward me.
I get my lightest cane from its little hidey-hole in the wardrobe. It is thin, almost spindly, but it hurts like hell. "Why are you to be punished, Brenda?" I ask. "For not doing a good job in the laundry, Maam" she replies. "Six strokes" I say. It's what I give for a minor offense.
I whip the head of the cane though the air, causing it to make a delicious swishing sound. I whip it a few more times. I like the sound of it, and Brenda does not! Now the advantages of a big bum are apparent. I line up the cane and gently tap the generous target with it. Then I swing it, firmly but carefully, so it falls across both buttocks. Brenda flinches. "One" she gasps. I examine the little red line I've made on her flesh, but its fading already. That stroke was not hard enough. I like to start too softly since its safer.
The next stroke is somewhat harder. It makes a nice cracking sound, and Brenda grunts with pain. "Two" she says. The next two strokes are like the second, and each leaves a red mark that does not fade before the next stroke. Brenda counts them too.
I leave Brenda positioned while I go and check on the kids again. I don't want them hearing the activity that is going on in the bedroom. Having found that they are still where I saw them last, I return to Brenda. The sound of the TV will mask the last two strokes.
Brenda stiffens and breathes heavily. She knows whats coming. I line the cane up with her arse again, and tap it playfully a few times. I lift the cane, and Brenda audibly inhales. This stroke, the fifth, is much harder than the preceding ones. I whip it in really quickly, looking for a good hard cracking sound. I get one. Brenda cries out with real pain "Aggghh". Then she gasps out a couple of "oh"s. Has she forgotten to count? After a pause she yells "Five". I will let it pass.
For a couple of minutes I just stand there and enjoy the sight of the red stripe on her arse. It looks like it might leave a long-lasting welt. The last stroke had better be a bit softer. But Brenda does not know that. She has to wait in trepidation. That is part of my fun.
When I tap her butt for the last one, Brenda trembles. In the event, the stroke is a bit too soft. Still, it makes Brenda cry out again. Unfortunately, she remembers to count "six". She is good at remembering, because if she forgets I have to repeat the stroke. Oh well, not today. "That is all." I say. "Be prompt on Monday. Now you may go".
"Thank you for disciplining me Maam", says Brenda. She wouldn't forget to say that because she doesn't want another six! She drops her dress, pulls up her panties and leaves.
On Thursdays, Brenda's kids have sports after school. Brenda finishes work at 3. So by 3:15, Brenda is at my house, knocking on the door to let me know she has arrived. I leave her for a little while, then open the door.
This afternoon, she is dressed as usual, in a plain one piece dress that falls above the knee, bare legs and black high heels. Her long brown hair is tied back, and she is properly made up with eyeliner and lipstick. It's chilly and she shivers slightly without a coat.
Brenda is 45, ten years older than me. She is still good looking, if a bit plump. She is pear shaped, with small breasts and a big rear. I like a big behind on women; it has advantages.
I give her no greeting, nor she to me. She just steps inside and slips off her shoes. "The bathroom needs extra work today" I say. "Hang out the laundry, too". "Yes Maam" she replies. She sets to work briskly. There is a lot for her to do.
The first thing she does is make me a cup of tea. She knows to do that first every week. I sit and enjoy it, reading a magazine while Brenda cleans my house.
Brenda has to go by 5, so at 4:45 I check the house. As usual, she has done a good job. That's annoying. Then I remember the laundry so I go and check the clothesline where I see something wrong. I call Brenda to come outside. One of the socks is lying on the ground. She is very apologetic and hangs it up quickly, but she already knows she is in trouble.
We go back inside. My daughter is in the living room watching TV so I need to use a bit of discretion, as usual for Thursdays.
"I have something to discuss with you in private, Brenda. Please come into my bedroom" I say. Brenda looks scared but of course she goes to the bedroom. I check that my son is where he normally is; in the playroom on the computer.
After going back inside the bedroom I lock the door. "Assume the position" I say. Brenda does not answer with words. She simply moves to stand with her legs spread, puts her knees against the bed and slips her panties down to her knees. She grabs her dress with both hands, and hitches it up above her hips. Then she leans forward and sticks her big bare bum toward me.
I get my lightest cane from its little hidey-hole in the wardrobe. It is thin, almost spindly, but it hurts like hell. "Why are you to be punished, Brenda?" I ask. "For not doing a good job in the laundry, Maam" she replies. "Six strokes" I say. It's what I give for a minor offense.
I whip the head of the cane though the air, causing it to make a delicious swishing sound. I whip it a few more times. I like the sound of it, and Brenda does not! Now the advantages of a big bum are apparent. I line up the cane and gently tap the generous target with it. Then I swing it, firmly but carefully, so it falls across both buttocks. Brenda flinches. "One" she gasps. I examine the little red line I've made on her flesh, but its fading already. That stroke was not hard enough. I like to start too softly since its safer.
The next stroke is somewhat harder. It makes a nice cracking sound, and Brenda grunts with pain. "Two" she says. The next two strokes are like the second, and each leaves a red mark that does not fade before the next stroke. Brenda counts them too.
I leave Brenda positioned while I go and check on the kids again. I don't want them hearing the activity that is going on in the bedroom. Having found that they are still where I saw them last, I return to Brenda. The sound of the TV will mask the last two strokes.
Brenda stiffens and breathes heavily. She knows whats coming. I line the cane up with her arse again, and tap it playfully a few times. I lift the cane, and Brenda audibly inhales. This stroke, the fifth, is much harder than the preceding ones. I whip it in really quickly, looking for a good hard cracking sound. I get one. Brenda cries out with real pain "Aggghh". Then she gasps out a couple of "oh"s. Has she forgotten to count? After a pause she yells "Five". I will let it pass.
For a couple of minutes I just stand there and enjoy the sight of the red stripe on her arse. It looks like it might leave a long-lasting welt. The last stroke had better be a bit softer. But Brenda does not know that. She has to wait in trepidation. That is part of my fun.
When I tap her butt for the last one, Brenda trembles. In the event, the stroke is a bit too soft. Still, it makes Brenda cry out again. Unfortunately, she remembers to count "six". She is good at remembering, because if she forgets I have to repeat the stroke. Oh well, not today. "That is all." I say. "Be prompt on Monday. Now you may go".
"Thank you for disciplining me Maam", says Brenda. She wouldn't forget to say that because she doesn't want another six! She drops her dress, pulls up her panties and leaves.