The Romance of Chastisement

The Romance of Chastisement

Sunday, November 9, 2014

F/M Sunday Part 2 -- Aunt Carol, the conclusion

Yes, this one was a two parter, so this Sunday there's a bonus.

 Summer with Aunt Carol Part 3

I awoke the next morning alone in my bed. The clock said 6:48, and I could hear Aunt Carol milling around getting ready for class. In my clouded awareness, I could feel the burning in my backside, as the memory of the previous night trickled into my consciousness. A few minutes later my door opened and I watched through sleepy eyes as Aunt Carol approached me. I turned toward her as she sat on the edge of the bed. As I looked up at her she stroked my hair and said, "Don't get up, I just wanted to check in with you to see if you were OK. I'm going to work now, but you can sleep a bit more. There is not much to do this morning. You are probably still tired from our ordeal last night...I know I'd sleep in if I could." She paused looking down lovingly at me. "I want to let last night speak for itself, OK?" I looked up with what must have been a blank, groggy expression. " I won't mention it again," she said, "But be sure that I'll give you a dose of the same if we have any more trouble. Understand?"

"Yes Aunt Carol," I replied. " Still pals?" she asked with a smile. "Yeah," I said groggily. "Good," she said as she kissed me on the head. "I'll see you around noon." She walked out of the room and I slipped off to sleep.

Several weeks went by and we both acted as if nothing had happened. I thought often of that night, the embarrassment, the contact, of being overpowered both emotionally and physically. In fact, not an hour went by where the scene of Aunt Carol's stern glare and her strong hand slapping my bare bottom did not occur to me. The odd thing was that the embarrassment and shame I felt at the time was replaced by a feeling of warmth and contentment when I thought of her. The experience of vulnerability, exposure, and vigorous punishment actually made the bond between us stronger. No one in my life had ever cared enough about me to get that emotional over anything I did. My parents certainly did not. But what was more important was the trust that was built between us. After my first spanking, I knew that our relationship was strong enough to sustain conflict. I also knew that Aunt Carol was capable of using her "parental" power in a fair and responsible way. This made it all that much easier to trust her, and know that if I made mistakes she would still love me, and that forgiveness would come as swiftly as the punishment.

It was early July, about 4 weeks after I had arrived when Aunt Carol came home a little early from school. I was just finishing up weeding the garden. When I came into the house she had already changed into her jeans. She looked a little pale and agitated, and I asked if she was OK. "Its just politics at the school," she told me. "I shouldn't let it bother me, because I know it will just blow over. But sometimes I just can't take the petty crap there." "Is there something I can do to help?" I asked. "Actually yes," she said in a flustered tone. "I was supposed to ship out the small figurines to the Edgewood Potter in Maine, and they still need to be packed. I was going to do it this afternoon, but I just can't deal with it today. If you want, you can pack up the ones on the second and third shelves...I think there are about 35...I'll call UPS tomorrow."

"I'd be glad to do it," I said. "Do you want me to pack them like the ones we did last week?" "That would be a great help, just be sure to over-box them. You know how rough UPS is! And thanks," she said as she brushed past me. As she left the house and went down the porch steps, she shouted back to me, "I've got to get out of here for a while, I'll be walking down stream. Don't come looking for me...I need to be alone."

I grabbed a glass of iced tea, gulped it down and headed for the barn. It was dusty in there, and I had to clean off all of the figurines before packing them up. It took me about 30 minutes to get them clean when I realized that I was going to run out of the bubble packing material. After looking all over the barn for more, I stood there wondering what to do...whether to just call it quits or go find Aunt Carol and ask her if there was more packing. I had really wound myself up to get the job done, so I figured I'd find her and just ask her quickly about what I should do and come back and finish up.

I headed out of the barn and across the meadow to the edge of the stream, and quickly walked along the edge toward the pond. As I came around a bend in the river, I looked up and was frozen still by the image before me. About 30 yards ahead of me I saw Aunt Carol wading into the water where the stream met the pond. What stunned me most was that she was completely naked. Almost by instinct, I quickly dashed into the brush hoping not to be seen by her while I watched her move in the water almost to knee height.

Her body was absolutely spectacular. I could see that her hair was tied into a pony tail that ran down to the middle of her shoulder blades. The contrast between the bronze skin of her legs and arms was highlighted by the delicate paleness of her slender back and the full, ovals of her bottom. The line of her silhouette moved gracefully from her relatively broad shoulders, slimming to her waist, and broadening again to her solid hips. Her 43 years were only betrayed by the slightest addition to the area of her outer thighs. The effect created a symmetry that perfectly balanced the width of her strong shoulders, and added to her stately appearance.

As she splashed in the water, she turned and faced the direction where I was hiding in the bushes. Her large alabaster breasts swayed gently as she moved. They were beautifully full and round, and sagged just a bit to give them a slightly pendulous appearance. Each soft mound was topped with a brownish aureole that was about the size of a silver dollar. While I was several dozen yards away, I thought that I could occasionally make out the outline of an erect nipple as she moved around trying to get used to the cool water. Her full thighs came together at a thick, dark patch of hair that stood out among the paleness of her creamy stomach and thighs. I was crouching there trying to conceal myself, when she suddenly jumped into the water, and disappeared beneath the surface of the pond.

I realized then that there was a tightness in my jeans as my erection strained against the taught fabric. I also noticed that I had barely been breathing during the few minutes I had been watching her. Just as I gasped a deep breath, Aunt Carol sprung up from the water sucking in her own breath, and gently began floating on her back. I stayed and watched as she splashed around, apparently enjoying herself. After about ten minutes she moved toward the shore and slowly climbed out of the water. I then saw her entire statuesque form for the first time. Her skin glistened in the sun, as she stood basking in the glow of the warm rays. I stayed, transfixed by the grace and beauty of her bare body. I watched for just a moment more while she spread out her sweatshirt and laid down in the sun. When the coast looked clear, I turned, and quickly dashed back to the barn. I couldn't get the image of Aunt Carol's body out of my head as I ran back along the water's edge and across the meadow.

As I entered the barn, not twenty minutes since I had left, I saw an unopened carton of the bubble pack I had been needing. "If it had teeth it would have bitten me," I thought to myself. With the all the materials I needed on hand, it took another 30 minutes to pack up the figurines. I did a good job on the packing and was confident that they would make the bumpy truck ride to the Maine shore. After closing up the barn I went into the house and up to my room. My erection never fully went down since my time at the pond, so I masturbated to relive the tension while imagining Aunt Carol's naked body in the water. Soon after the waves of my orgasm subsided, I drifted off to sleep.

When I woke it was late afternoon. I stumbled downstairs, only to find the kitchen empty. I looked outside and saw the back end of the pickup poking out from behind the side of the barn. I walked into the TV room, then out to the porch and found them both empty. Down the hall I could hear a rustling of papers coming from the study. When I entered the doorway, I saw Aunt Carol sitting in a Victorian chair with her feet up on the ottoman reading a journal of some sort. The blinds were drawn to keep the hot rays of the afternoon sun out of the room. The blinds were a rose color, and not entirely opaque. When the bright sunlight hit in the afternoon, it cast a soft pinkish hue which blanketed the room.

Aunt Carol was wearing a cotton sundress and her hair was wet, apparently from a recent shower. I was surprised that I had not been awakened by the noise from the shower running. "Hi," I said. Aunt Carol looked up from her magazine. Her blue eyes looked over her reading glasses which balanced half way down her nose. She folded the magazine in her lap and took the glasses off. "I thought you would never wake up," she said a little sarcastically. "Yeah," I responded, still feeling a little groggy. "I'm glad you came in. I wanted to talk to you anyway. Thanks for packing up the order for Maine. It looks like a you did a great job. I called UPS they'll be by later." "No problem," I said. "It actually did not take me very long to do, and I was glad to do it. Are you feeling any better than when you were when you came home from work?"

She paused for a moment. I had been rubbing my eyes, and when I looked up, her face took on an annoyed expression. "I was beginning to feel relaxed on my walk and I decided to take a swim. The water was nice and warm, and I swam for a while. It was really great until I got out of the water and realized I was on stage." It took a moment for the last part of what she said to sink in, but then I realized that I had been caught. My body immediately tensed up. As innocently as I could, I responded "What do you mean- on stage?" Suddenly her face flashed in anger and her eyes were like lasers. "Don't give me that crap," she said. "Did you think I couldn't see you hiding in the brush? For Christ's sake look at that shirt! Nothing in nature is that color." I looked down to see the shirt I had been wearing all day. It was a bright- almost electric cobalt blue. She was right. I must have stood out like a beacon against the sea of green vegetation. She continued angrily, now leaning forward in her chair, "So do I have to explain it to you? Or do you get it that purposely invading someone's private time and spying on them is a breach of trust. Do you get that?"

Once again I had screwed up, and once again I felt like trash. I looked down at my feet, hoping this would all go away. Suddenly, Aunt Carol rose from her chair and crossed the room. Grabbing me by the chin she forced me to look at her. "Look at me when I talk to you young man," she said in a determined tone. "We had a deal. The deal was that I was going to take some alone time. You agreed to give me some privacy. Isn't that right?" I tried to nod, but her grip on my chin did not allow much movement. "OK, she added. " So then you disregard our agreement and spy on me. What happens when you break a deal in this house?" Here eyes were burning into my soul. "I get punished," I said softly. "Yes you do," she quipped. And you have earned another all-expense-paid trip over my knee!"

Tears were beginning to well up in my eyes and my voice was choking up. "I'm sorry Aunt Carol," I managed to choke out. "I only went down to ask you a question about...." She cut me off angrily. "No excuses! That will only make your punishment worse." When I appeared to resign myself to my fate for the evening, she let go of my chin and stepped away from me. "Well I think the punishment should fit the crime," she said looking down at me. "Take all of your clothes off." "All of them?" I asked tentatively. "Yes," she said sternly. "I think you should see what it feels like to be exposed without your consent. Your spanking will be given entirely on your bare bottom. And the rest of your body will also be nude as well. We'll see if you like being leered at. And don't keep me waiting or you will pay dearly!"
I took off my sandals, and was pulling off my shirt when Aunt Carol left the room saying, "When I come back here I want to see you fully nude, and standing in the corner. God help you if you don't do it." She was gone about four or five minutes and when she returned, I had done exactly as I was told and was in position. As she entered the room she crossed behind. I heard her moving around behind me and something sliding on the floor. Then it was quiet. A moment later her voice broke the strained silence that was between us. "O.K. young man turn around."

As I turned, I saw her sitting in an armless chair near the center of the room. I had my hands cupped modestly over my private areas, but she quickly told me to put my hands at my sides. "Come over here," she said sharply. "No, in fact...walk around for me. I want to glare at you for a while." I walked in circles in front of her. "It doesn't feel so good to be stared at when you are vulnerable, does it?" she asked. "No ma'am," I responded.

For the next five minutes or so she had me move in the room, bend and pose in different positions while she continued to scold and humiliate me. When she thought that I had had enough, she told me to stand beside her. The next thing I knew, she grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me across her broad lap. As she positioned me for my spanking, she chided me, "You are going to be one sorry young man when I'm through with you! This is one spanking you will remember for a very long time!." When she stopped adjusting my position, I was situated with my toes just barely on the ground. My body was bent into a nearly perfect arc. My hands were on the floor supporting the weight of my upper body while the compact globes of my vulnerable bottom was at the highest point. Before I could prepare myself I felt the first hard slap of her firm hand connecting with my left cheek. While the heat spread across the expanse of my skin, she spanked the same area on the right side. I winced with the shock of the sharp slapping, and soon she was beating a slow deliberate cadence on my tender, upturned bottom. The blows were coming about one per second, and she did not seem to be hitting me as hard as she did the last time. The tempo and intensity varied while she talked to me, emphasizing her points with sharper faster swats. "I hope this will get through to you that you do not spy on people," she said in a breathy, excited tone. Slap! Slap! Slap! "You will learn to respect the privacy of others."
Slap! Slap! Slap! "Won't you!"

I tried to answer but my throat was tight, and I was alternately choking back tears letting out little yelps. She kept this up for a full five minutes. Occasionally, she would stop to grab my hair, turn my head so I could just see her with my peripheral vision, and lecture me on how I would develop character while I was in her house, or she would beat my ass until it was raw. Just as I thought I could not take any more, she suddenly let me up.

"Stand up right now," she commanded. "Now get over to that corner." I stood and quickly complied with her demand when she stopped me. "Wait," she said, as she grabbed me by the upper arm. "Come with me. I have a much more suitable place for you." With that she dragged me down the hall and out the front door into the porch. She then positioned me in the corner facing the house with my cherry red butt on display. "You're not going to leave me out here are you?" I asked nervously. " Not a word out of you or your ass will be so sore you'll wish you'd died. And don't move." She barked this warning with an intensity that made it clear that she was not kidding. She turned and went into the house. My heart sank as the screen door slammed.

So there I was. Naked, sniffling, spanked, and hoping like hell that no one came to visit. It was dusk and the last glow of pink light was glimmering over the trees to the West. So I stood...and stood...for what seemed like forever. When it was just about dark, I heard a rumble on the long driveway. Oh God, no, I thought....UPS! The truck came closer, bumping along, and scratching through the gravel and apparently came to a stop in front of the barn. I heard footsteps, then the cargo door to the truck open, more footsteps and a thump. The driver had loaded the package. When the cargo door came down, I thought I was home free. But then I heard footsteps as the driver approached the porch. I followed the sound as it came up the steps behind me and up onto the porch. It was almost dark now and Aunt Carol had not turned the porch light on yet. There was also the porch swing which was between where I was standing, face pressed to the side of the house, and where the UPS driver was standing. I hoped that if I stood still and was quiet, I could hide in the shadows, and the driver would not see me. Then the doorbell rang and I heard Aunt Carol coming to answer the door. My whole body was tense and I could feel my heart pounding. I was barely breathing when the front door opened and the porch light came on flooding the scene with a luminance that seemed brighter than it was because my eyes were adjusted to the darkness. As my eyesight adjusted to the light, I could see that I was still in the shadows of the porch swing.

Aunt Carol came out onto the porch to talk to the Driver. "Hi. Thanks for coming out so late," I heard my Aunt say. "No problem. Was it just the one big carton?" I heard a female voice reply. She was the young female driver who came on Thursdays and Fridays. If my memory served my she was in her late 20's, long hair and fairly short... under 5'5". She had a solid but feminine build, ample hips and a soft, Reubenesque silhouette. They made small talk for a few moments when suddenly, the driver stopped speaking in mid sentence. Then silence....

After what seemed like an eternity, (but what was probably only five seconds) the driver started giggling. "What is going on here?" she asked trying to hold back a laugh. "Oh," replied Aunt Carol, "That's my nephew. He seems to have trouble respecting other people's privacy. I was just teaching him a lesson." "I guess so!" the driver replied in an amused tone. "But what better way to teach someone about privacy, than for them to feel theirs being compromised?" the driver added. "And something a bit more striking to bring the lesson home," Aunt Carol said. "Well it looks like you are doing quite the job on that score," the driver quipped in that same bemused tone. "Well I'm not quite through with him this evening, but it's getting late and you need to be on your way. It's awfully nice of you to make it out here so late," Aunt Carol replied. "Well then, I'll let you get back to it. See you." The driver then skipped down the porch steps and into the truck. As she drove away, the headlights panned across the front of the house, illuminating everything on the porch.

I was mortified. The public humiliation was too much, and I was on the verge of tears. Aunt Carol grabbed me by the arm and dragged me into the house. Once inside she took me down the hall, up the stairs and into her bedroom. There she told me to wait in the corner much as I had done in her study earlier that afternoon. She left me there and returned about five minutes later. She told me to turn around.

Aunt Carol had a Victorian 4-poster bed made of dark cherrywood. On the floor next to the bed was a small footstool made of the same wood, with a tapestry cushion on the top. She told me to go to the footstool and open the top up. I did as I was told, and found a thick leather belt inside. When I looked back up at her I realized she had changed into a sheer nightgown. She told me to hand the belt to her. She took the belt into her hand, uncoiled it, doubled it, and grabbed it where the two ends met. Doubled over like that, the belt was about 20" long, 3" wide, and looked terrifying. Aunt Carol swung it through the air and it made whooshing sound. Then she smacked it on the bed spread and it landed with a deep thump. My heart was pounding again, and I knew I was in trouble.

"I think this will get the point across to you," she said. "This oiled leather is devastatingly effective." She walked over to me and grabbed me by the chin again and made me look deeply into her eyes. "I am going to give you 12 very hard strokes. It may be the most painful experience of your life. But it will change the way you think about obeying me. I guarantee it." With that, she told me to kneel on the stool and bend over the bed. In this position, my torso was resting on the mattress, my arms were stretched straight out, and my bottom was perfectly presented for its punishment.

Aunt carol came behind me to the left, so she could use her right arm to swing. "You must remember to breathe deeply," she said. "If you don't the pain will be much worse, and you might pass out." Then I heard that deep whooshing again but this time it was followed by a loud “crack!” as the leather bit deeply into the tender flesh of my ass. The first blow landed directly over the crown of both cheeks, and the shock from both the force of the blow and the searing pain shocked me so much I shouted out in pain. I immediately began bargaining. "Please Aunt Carol! Please! I'll be good," I gasped, trying to catch my breath.

"Yes, yes you will be good from now on. You'll be very good," she said smugly. Whoosh, Crack! "Ahh! Oh God Aunt Carol, you're killing me!" I cried. The second cut of the belt also landed across both cheeks but was higher than the first stroke. It landed with an equal force. The pain was so intense that I thought I would pass out and I reflexively jumped out of position so I was kneeling up on the footstool. Aunt Carol immediately pushed me back in place. "Don't you dare move from that position again or I will give you 24 strokes. Do you understand me young man?" "Yes Aunt Carol," I said.

The beating continued with strokes coming about every minute or minute and a half. I cried out with every bite of that wicked leather belt. By the fourth stroke my eyes spilled over with tears and I began sobbing steadily. After the sixth stroke, she paused to examine my punished ass. "This is just right," she said. "I wish you could see it. There is still a beautiful blanket of pink everywhere from the spanking before," she said as she stroked my bottom. "The belt is leaving very nice striped welts. They are the color ripe strawberries. But you know we are not done," she added sternly.

She then stood and went back to her position. The next four swipes of the belt were as hard as the first, but this time she aimed so that just the last three or four inches of the belt would land in a pre-determined place. The effect was that the force from the swing would be concentrated in a small area. The places where the belt "licked" the skin was immediately set on fire. Within a minute or so the small abused patch would swell up into a bright red welt. By this time, I was sobbing uncontrollably. I can't remember what I was saying, but I was pleading for leniency...pleas that fell on deaf ears.

Aunt Carol came around the front of the bed And made me look at her. She brushed the tears from my eyes. "We're almost done. Just two more," she said. "Please Aunt Carol, I can't take any more," I was able to choke out through my tears. "Yes you can, little one," she added. "And you will take the last of your punishment like a good boy. These last two will be given quickly and very hard. Then it we'll be done." True to her word, the last two strokes were harder than I believed possible. She made little grunting noises when swinging like a tennis player serving. Then it was over.

Aunt Carol told me to stay in place, and to keep my eyes closed. She left the room while I sobbed quietly and tried regain some measure of composure. When she returned I heard her walking around me and some clicking and mechanical noises. About five minutes later she told me to sit up and open my eyes. By this time, my back and shoulders were sore from being bent over for so long and the pain in my back coursed through me as I straightened up. As I opened my eyes, I could make out a set of six Polaroids on the bed. They were photos of me just taken in all my glory, with the reddest, most inflamed bottom, and a tear streaked face.

"Just a few shots so you can remember what happens to little sneaks," Aunt Carol said. "Maybe I can put them in a photo album as a reminder," she added with a grin." "And now that you've paid the price for your errant ways, you may as well get a good look at what you so desperately wanted to see in the first place...this time with my permission." Then she stepped back and turned away from me. After undoing the buttons of her night gown, she let the garment fall down off of her shoulders and rest in a puddle at her feet. As she turned around, I took in her naked form through my tear filled eyes. Suddenly it all seemed worthwhile.

1 comment:

alex said...

Nice stuff. When my mother spanked me naked, she would tell me to strip off and them count to ten. Everything had to come off before she got to the count of ten. And then I went over her knee.