She's Out of Control - Part 1 - a new Michael & Lynn Story
As he looked at her standing in the corner with her jeans and panties at her knees, Michael thought, I’m fed up ! Well, not fed up in a “that’s it forever” sense. No, that couldn’t and wouldn’t ever ever happen. But his patience had been worn so thin by Lynn’s “moods” that it was a real challenge to keep his temper and not lash out in frustration and anger. He admitted to himself in his own dismay, that perhaps he’d even done that. He admitted how wrong it felt, and how “control” was something they both needed when everything seemed stacked against their loving and growing and their intimacy.
The last few weeks had been a litany of crisis. Their friends and loved ones had been hurting and Michael and Lynn hadn’t been able to reach out and help them. They didn’t even have the chance to help themselves. One thing after another had interfered with their privacy for weeks now, and it was so near the boiling point, Michael knew it was either action or misery. So action it was, and as he looked to heaven he thought silently feeling he’d waited too long; Lord you know how I do love her, but she’s out of control, and today is judgment day. It’s going to be a long time before she forgets today.
Now Lynn had been in the corner for almost an hour. Stewing and stewing and stewing, she was far from contrite. And Michael had already applied one devil of a warm up spanking. Her bottom had a seriously warm blush now. The scolding had been wicked too. He’d had her up one side and down the other with every nuance and detail of her “moods” as he called them. How she allowed herself to lose focus and wasn’t able to keep the things she couldn’t control in their place and perspective. How she buried her thoughts and fears and how they made their way out in the form of bad behavior that drove him crazy. Lynn knew it, but she wasn’t in the “mood” to hear it either. Too late now she thought; he’s fed up and I’ve had it.
She shivered deeply as the tone of his voice still hung in the air; that rumbling “look out young lady” voice that could wither her on one hand, cut deep, or soothe her deepest soul. But still, even as she recalled his warning that she “wouldn’t forget today,” she felt unsettled and defiant. Yes, even as he’d said as he held her chin and gave her one of his penetrating looks; she felt “out of control.” She felt little hope that anything Michael might do would change it. She thought too, so oddly; I’m hungry.
Michael glanced over at her in the corner again as he completed the preparations for more surprises than even Lynn could imagine. He was determined to get this nonsense behind them and establish some ongoing sanity once again. He’d let her stew enough, he thought, and all but one paddle was hidden from her view, as he outlined every step one final time and came up quietly behind her. He rested his hand on her shoulder and felt her shiver as he spoke intensely into her ear, “come with me little girl… there’s not going to be much talking, but there’s going to be a whale of a lot of spanking.”
He grasped her firmly under the arm and pulled the shuffling and still huffy Lynn not too gently to the wide upholstered chair he’d placed in the middle of the room. Michael made sure she had the chance to see their wicked long paddle before he sat down and stood her before him. He noted her forlorn look as he torturously removed her jeans and panties. But without a word he stood up and got to “positioning her just right;” knees about half way back in the deep seat and pressed tight against the chair arms. Michael bent her forward at the waist, but not too much. So Lynn was “hugging” the low chair back almost, half-bent over, half in a kneeling stand-up… excruciatingly vulnerable, Michael thought. Just the way I want her.
“Don’t dare move little girl,” Michael rumbled deeply as he picked up the paddle from its resting place. “Don’t you dare move. There will be fifty of these young lady.” “Awww hell,” he growled at her, “Maybe a hundred, it depends on YOU.” And without hesitation the first blistering crack landed hard right on Lynn’s tender sit spot. So hard it took her breath away, Lynn gasped and finally wondered MY GOD.
Michael was intense now thinking; heaven help her, this is going to sink in once and for all. He slowly paddled her bare bottom very hard. Just enough time between each wicked crack for Lynn to catch her breath before the next. Not even bothering to keep count, he was going by her reaction and the change in the color of her bottom. From the pink blush to red to a white hot blistered ass. Over every square inch of her bottom, just what he wanted, a white hot blistered ass. Michael paid close attention to Lynn’s accelerated gasps for air. He paid close attention to the deep welting marks the paddle made. He paid close attention to what he sensed was that Lynn was finally, "dear god" he thought, paying attention too. Holding her own to be sure, but after what seemed like many more than fifty blazing cracks, Lynn let go the longest and the deepest sob he had ever heard.
No satisfaction here, he was spanking with real purpose, and he stopped paddling her and watched closely as she started letting it all out. Lynn was heaving and gasping and sobbing and crying openly now, but he sensed her strength and stoicism too. It wasn’t time to stop just yet, and he dropped the paddle to the floor and picked her up forcefully and carried her to the bed. Michael quickly sat and took her over his knee. Still not saying a word while she blubbered and sputtered incoherently, he picked up their pocket strap and laid hard into her already searing bottom. He rained welting thwack after thwack after thwack onto her white hot behind. Lynn was really pouring it out now; heaving uncontrollably with each cruel lick of the strap, her body and her heart racked with the sheer and utter release of all the inner pain. At last, it penetrated her deeply enough and it burned so badly, she collapsed and went limp over Michael’s knee. Weeping and crying almost in a frenzy; almost bitterly at all she’d let build up and not let go, Lynn found the peace of the other world she needed and where only Michael’s love could take her.
As if to blanket her and keep her warm, Michael pulled Lynn closer and leaned his bare chest over heavily against her burning bottom. Lynn couldn’t see the tears in his eyes, and he wasn’t ready for her to see them just yet. He held her so tightly as she cried and cried, feeling it all pouring out, but knowing still she needed more. An hour passed it seemed like this, maybe more. Time was forgotten as it should be, and as Michael rocked her slowly and silently, the pain ebbed and Lynn started to settle, only to break down again and be held closer yet. Who knew how long it was, when Lynn’s tears and sobbing subsided. Good lord her bottom hurt. What had he done to her, but still over his knee, she felt his gentle hand on her scorched and blistered bottom. “Lotion,” she husked out weakly, imploring him for some relief to the vicious burning back there, and Michael quickly complied. Or so she thought, as she suddenly realized what Michael was rubbing in, wasn’t lotion.
Lynn bolted to her feet in a vulgar painful dance. Crying again in the renewed heat he made with the Icy Hot sports cream, she lunged for him. But Michael was standing and anticipating already. He stepped aside and brushed her easily into a heap on the bed. Lynn scrambled to right herself, but before she could, Michael gently tossed her jeans and her panties on her and rumbled in a tone that curled her hair, “YOU WILL GET A GRIP ON YOUR ANGER TOO YOUNG LADY,” Michael roared. “Get your pants on, we’re going for dinner.”
Lynn was about beside herself now. Her behind was on fire, almost as much as her temper. But she heard that voice and knew better than to defy him now. She glared at Michael, but she saw deep and intense truth in his eyes. There was no gloating or playfulness or sympathy for her. There was without question, a look of determination and love so respectfully deep that she was overwhelmed by the power of him. She felt loved and taken and owned, and despite the incredible anger and burning, she moved quickly to obey.
Lynn dressed slowly, wincing with every move, and Michael who’d been changing too, provided a hot wash cloth for her to “clean up her teary ass face.” Lynn took the wash cloth brusquely, and closed her eyes as she pressed it to her face and let the heat calm her some. She breathed deeply into the hot towel for a few moments and gathered her wits. She felt so odd. Her bottom hurt and burned and burned so badly. Every move was an effort, but she was aroused and hungry too. With a final deep breath and sigh, Lynn settled on that Michael was in control now, so she took the cloth away and tossed it like a dirty rag back to a patiently waiting Michael.
Moving slowly and painfully, just as she was about to pull her jeans up over her still roasting rear end, she heard Michael say, “Stop right there young lady.” Good God what now, Lynn alarmingly thought. She didn’t have a second to wait, as it turned out, as Michael approached and pulled her firmly over his hip. He pulled her panties down once again and gave her bottom one hard smack. Lynn groaned. Michael pulled her legs apart slightly and slid two fingers between them to test what he’d sensed. Oh she was wet alright. Dripping wet in fact, just as he’d suspected and wanted. Just as he needed too, he admitted to himself. But again, she had more to think about, and as he planned all along, Michael pressed their larger, already lubricated plug deeply and firmly into her bottom.
Lynn gasped at this new intrusion. Dinner hell, she thought, as she took another hard swat from Michael’s hard hand. But the next thing she knew, Michael had pulled up her panties and her jeans, and spun her around to face him. He had the most incredible look in his eyes and on his face. There wasn’t so much as a hint of cruelty or pleasure or satisfaction she saw. But his eyes were filled with understanding and love and determination. Good heavens the determination she saw. She tried to avoid his eyes, because she knew he was “in” her. Michael took her firmly by the shoulders and said quietly with the most profound sense of love she’d heard from him in their long life together, “Let’s see you sit pretty with that in your burning ass young lady, while we have a long quiet dinner. When we get back, just you guess what will be replacing that plug. You’re going to get a fucking you won’t forget either young lady.”
And with that, Michael gave Lynn another hard smack on her burning sore bottom, took her firmly under control, and out the door to dinner.
The last few weeks had been a litany of crisis. Their friends and loved ones had been hurting and Michael and Lynn hadn’t been able to reach out and help them. They didn’t even have the chance to help themselves. One thing after another had interfered with their privacy for weeks now, and it was so near the boiling point, Michael knew it was either action or misery. So action it was, and as he looked to heaven he thought silently feeling he’d waited too long; Lord you know how I do love her, but she’s out of control, and today is judgment day. It’s going to be a long time before she forgets today.
Now Lynn had been in the corner for almost an hour. Stewing and stewing and stewing, she was far from contrite. And Michael had already applied one devil of a warm up spanking. Her bottom had a seriously warm blush now. The scolding had been wicked too. He’d had her up one side and down the other with every nuance and detail of her “moods” as he called them. How she allowed herself to lose focus and wasn’t able to keep the things she couldn’t control in their place and perspective. How she buried her thoughts and fears and how they made their way out in the form of bad behavior that drove him crazy. Lynn knew it, but she wasn’t in the “mood” to hear it either. Too late now she thought; he’s fed up and I’ve had it.
She shivered deeply as the tone of his voice still hung in the air; that rumbling “look out young lady” voice that could wither her on one hand, cut deep, or soothe her deepest soul. But still, even as she recalled his warning that she “wouldn’t forget today,” she felt unsettled and defiant. Yes, even as he’d said as he held her chin and gave her one of his penetrating looks; she felt “out of control.” She felt little hope that anything Michael might do would change it. She thought too, so oddly; I’m hungry.
Michael glanced over at her in the corner again as he completed the preparations for more surprises than even Lynn could imagine. He was determined to get this nonsense behind them and establish some ongoing sanity once again. He’d let her stew enough, he thought, and all but one paddle was hidden from her view, as he outlined every step one final time and came up quietly behind her. He rested his hand on her shoulder and felt her shiver as he spoke intensely into her ear, “come with me little girl… there’s not going to be much talking, but there’s going to be a whale of a lot of spanking.”
He grasped her firmly under the arm and pulled the shuffling and still huffy Lynn not too gently to the wide upholstered chair he’d placed in the middle of the room. Michael made sure she had the chance to see their wicked long paddle before he sat down and stood her before him. He noted her forlorn look as he torturously removed her jeans and panties. But without a word he stood up and got to “positioning her just right;” knees about half way back in the deep seat and pressed tight against the chair arms. Michael bent her forward at the waist, but not too much. So Lynn was “hugging” the low chair back almost, half-bent over, half in a kneeling stand-up… excruciatingly vulnerable, Michael thought. Just the way I want her.
“Don’t dare move little girl,” Michael rumbled deeply as he picked up the paddle from its resting place. “Don’t you dare move. There will be fifty of these young lady.” “Awww hell,” he growled at her, “Maybe a hundred, it depends on YOU.” And without hesitation the first blistering crack landed hard right on Lynn’s tender sit spot. So hard it took her breath away, Lynn gasped and finally wondered MY GOD.
Michael was intense now thinking; heaven help her, this is going to sink in once and for all. He slowly paddled her bare bottom very hard. Just enough time between each wicked crack for Lynn to catch her breath before the next. Not even bothering to keep count, he was going by her reaction and the change in the color of her bottom. From the pink blush to red to a white hot blistered ass. Over every square inch of her bottom, just what he wanted, a white hot blistered ass. Michael paid close attention to Lynn’s accelerated gasps for air. He paid close attention to the deep welting marks the paddle made. He paid close attention to what he sensed was that Lynn was finally, "dear god" he thought, paying attention too. Holding her own to be sure, but after what seemed like many more than fifty blazing cracks, Lynn let go the longest and the deepest sob he had ever heard.
No satisfaction here, he was spanking with real purpose, and he stopped paddling her and watched closely as she started letting it all out. Lynn was heaving and gasping and sobbing and crying openly now, but he sensed her strength and stoicism too. It wasn’t time to stop just yet, and he dropped the paddle to the floor and picked her up forcefully and carried her to the bed. Michael quickly sat and took her over his knee. Still not saying a word while she blubbered and sputtered incoherently, he picked up their pocket strap and laid hard into her already searing bottom. He rained welting thwack after thwack after thwack onto her white hot behind. Lynn was really pouring it out now; heaving uncontrollably with each cruel lick of the strap, her body and her heart racked with the sheer and utter release of all the inner pain. At last, it penetrated her deeply enough and it burned so badly, she collapsed and went limp over Michael’s knee. Weeping and crying almost in a frenzy; almost bitterly at all she’d let build up and not let go, Lynn found the peace of the other world she needed and where only Michael’s love could take her.
As if to blanket her and keep her warm, Michael pulled Lynn closer and leaned his bare chest over heavily against her burning bottom. Lynn couldn’t see the tears in his eyes, and he wasn’t ready for her to see them just yet. He held her so tightly as she cried and cried, feeling it all pouring out, but knowing still she needed more. An hour passed it seemed like this, maybe more. Time was forgotten as it should be, and as Michael rocked her slowly and silently, the pain ebbed and Lynn started to settle, only to break down again and be held closer yet. Who knew how long it was, when Lynn’s tears and sobbing subsided. Good lord her bottom hurt. What had he done to her, but still over his knee, she felt his gentle hand on her scorched and blistered bottom. “Lotion,” she husked out weakly, imploring him for some relief to the vicious burning back there, and Michael quickly complied. Or so she thought, as she suddenly realized what Michael was rubbing in, wasn’t lotion.
Lynn bolted to her feet in a vulgar painful dance. Crying again in the renewed heat he made with the Icy Hot sports cream, she lunged for him. But Michael was standing and anticipating already. He stepped aside and brushed her easily into a heap on the bed. Lynn scrambled to right herself, but before she could, Michael gently tossed her jeans and her panties on her and rumbled in a tone that curled her hair, “YOU WILL GET A GRIP ON YOUR ANGER TOO YOUNG LADY,” Michael roared. “Get your pants on, we’re going for dinner.”
Lynn was about beside herself now. Her behind was on fire, almost as much as her temper. But she heard that voice and knew better than to defy him now. She glared at Michael, but she saw deep and intense truth in his eyes. There was no gloating or playfulness or sympathy for her. There was without question, a look of determination and love so respectfully deep that she was overwhelmed by the power of him. She felt loved and taken and owned, and despite the incredible anger and burning, she moved quickly to obey.
Lynn dressed slowly, wincing with every move, and Michael who’d been changing too, provided a hot wash cloth for her to “clean up her teary ass face.” Lynn took the wash cloth brusquely, and closed her eyes as she pressed it to her face and let the heat calm her some. She breathed deeply into the hot towel for a few moments and gathered her wits. She felt so odd. Her bottom hurt and burned and burned so badly. Every move was an effort, but she was aroused and hungry too. With a final deep breath and sigh, Lynn settled on that Michael was in control now, so she took the cloth away and tossed it like a dirty rag back to a patiently waiting Michael.
Moving slowly and painfully, just as she was about to pull her jeans up over her still roasting rear end, she heard Michael say, “Stop right there young lady.” Good God what now, Lynn alarmingly thought. She didn’t have a second to wait, as it turned out, as Michael approached and pulled her firmly over his hip. He pulled her panties down once again and gave her bottom one hard smack. Lynn groaned. Michael pulled her legs apart slightly and slid two fingers between them to test what he’d sensed. Oh she was wet alright. Dripping wet in fact, just as he’d suspected and wanted. Just as he needed too, he admitted to himself. But again, she had more to think about, and as he planned all along, Michael pressed their larger, already lubricated plug deeply and firmly into her bottom.
Lynn gasped at this new intrusion. Dinner hell, she thought, as she took another hard swat from Michael’s hard hand. But the next thing she knew, Michael had pulled up her panties and her jeans, and spun her around to face him. He had the most incredible look in his eyes and on his face. There wasn’t so much as a hint of cruelty or pleasure or satisfaction she saw. But his eyes were filled with understanding and love and determination. Good heavens the determination she saw. She tried to avoid his eyes, because she knew he was “in” her. Michael took her firmly by the shoulders and said quietly with the most profound sense of love she’d heard from him in their long life together, “Let’s see you sit pretty with that in your burning ass young lady, while we have a long quiet dinner. When we get back, just you guess what will be replacing that plug. You’re going to get a fucking you won’t forget either young lady.”
And with that, Michael gave Lynn another hard smack on her burning sore bottom, took her firmly under control, and out the door to dinner.
posted by little one | 12/09/2005 01:30:00 PM
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