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She F'd up - The Punishment Spanking.


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A BDSM Short Story about a Punishment Spanking. 

“Bend over”, he said tersely, “spread those legs shoulder width and pull those cheeks apart”. “Yes Sir” she meekly replied and quickly did as she was instructed, she did not want to increase his anger further by being slow in her reactions to his instructions. She’d fucked up, and she accepted the fact that she was going to get it big time, because the only times he ever told her to spread her cheeks, was because he was going to insert the Ginger into her anus.  Yes, she was going to be figged whilst she was getting a good belting.

Figging made her punishment all the more severe, because if she tensed her buttocks in preparation against each lash of the belt, her anus would inadvertently squeeze the Ginger , and thus increase the burning sensation, but if she didn’t tense, she’d feel the full sting of the implement as it struck. She was damned if she did, and damned if she didn’t; just the way he liked it when delivering a punishment spanking.

So, there she was, naked and bent over the table, legs apart and, holding her own cheeks wide open whilst waiting for the dreaded ginger to be inserted.  Although to her it felt like a lifetime of waiting, it was less than a minute before she felt the freshly peeled Ginger butt-plug being roughly placed inside her anal sphincter, which made her wince and cry out “owww” , but he didn’t care, as far as he was concerned, she deserved it.   

But, what had she done that was so terrible to receive such a punishment? Well, she’d only gone and popped out to the shops for “five minutes”... when she was supposed to be waiting in the house for a package delivery that needed to be signed before being handed over... but of course, she wasn’t there to do so, and as a result, the courier had left a card stating it would be another 48hrs before they would try to deliver again.

When she came home and found that card, she went very pale, felt nauseous and was almost physically sick. The package had contained a part he needed to fix some broken machinery and without it, he couldn’t fulfil his order on time, and thus would face a penalty... so yeah, she’d fucked up, big time, and she knew it!     

 He roughly grabbed her hands and removed them from her cheeks and placed them into the small of her back, one wrist above the other as if they were to be bound by rope, but instead of rope, he was holding both her wrists within his large left hand in a vice like grip and pressing down into her back, holding her in position much like you’d hold down a piece of wood before sawing into it.      

Whilst in this tightly held restrictive position, the left side of her face was flat on the table surface, so that her only view was that of the sideboard immediately adjacent to the right of the table her torso was now pressed down heavily against. What she saw, when looking directly at that sideboard sent shivers down her spine and she immediately started to cry. Well, it wasn’t so much what she saw on that sideboard that sent her into tremors, but what she didn’t see – the cane.  You see, normally on that sideboard, neatly lined up, were all the implements that her Dom liked to use on her when delivering a spanking, and the one tool that hardly ever moved was the cane. I say hardly ever, because the only time she had ever had the misfortune to taste its sting, was when he first bought it and had given her two strikes of it just to try it out. Those two strikes really stung, and he’d always joked that she’d have to really fuck up if he was ever going to use it on her again... so obviously, today was that day, she wasn’t getting a belting but a caning instead, and she didn’t know how many strikes she was going to get of it. She liked ***, but this was going to be on another level.

And to make matters worse, as if they couldn’t possibly get any worse for her, the Ginger Butt-Plug was beginning to take effect, she started to feel its burning sensation, mild at first, but rapidly increasing exponentially in severity. So to counter this, she did her level best to relax her buttock muscles so as to reduce squeezing out any more heated venom from this vegetable root from Hell. However, she very quickly realised that this effort was going to be all for naught. Because, if she didn’t tense, she was going to feel the full sting of that cane, and if she did tense, she’d feel the full burn of the Ginger.  Either way, she was fucked, and she knew that she only had herself to blame.

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