An episode

The room was dimly lit. All of the blinds had been closed, and the tv was turned off. The only sound in the room was that of her breathing, she could hear it loud and clear. He was standing beside her silently thinking. They had talked, her actions explained, and the punishment announced. He was displeased with her attitude and her actions. He was more upset that he found them in the same position as only a few days before.

He told her to stand up off of the couch. She did as instructed, knowing that he she was in no position to argue with him. She knew when she had flown off the handle at him, known she should stop. Her temper was flared though and she couldn’t get a grip on her tongue. He told her to put her hands on the couch, keep them flat, he instructed.

She hated to do this, this exposing herself for him. She felt him move, his thigh now touching her hip. She bit her lip as he began to spank her with his hand. She grimaced with each stroke as he intensified the punishment. She cried out only lightly as he continued.

He paused for a moment, has hands at her waist. He yanked on her pants pulling them down to her knees. She moaned at this action, the embarrassment she felt. She heard his next move, and she wanted to cry out. The metal of his buckle, the leather being pulled free of its denim restraints. She sucked in her breath and waited as he folded the weapon. She screamed out as the first lick of the belt was felt on her skin. She was given no time to recover before the next stroke landed.

She did her best to keep still, not wanting him to start over, but found the task difficult the longer the punishment went on. She groaned and hissed, her bottom wiggled from the burn. Again, he paused to reposition himself. She saw him from the corner of her eye, he stood back away from her. The belt no longer folded. Holding the buckle in one hand it was hanging loosely from his right hand. Before she could register the meaning she felt the bite of the leather and she jumped from it.

“Not like that,” she begged as she got back in position. He paid her no mind, his decision had been made. She closed her eyes and tried not to cry out as he pulled his hand back once again. The stroke was firm, burned like the rest. She wiggled and danced even though she tried her best to keep still. She could tell that he was trying to control the whip of the belt, the strokes though harsh were landing on target. She hissed when her thighs were struck, and she bolted upright when the belt lashed her bare skin.

She felt the intensity lessen with each stroke and he had refolded the belt. Just when she thought she could stand no more, he dropped the belt and told her they were done. She pulled up her pants, hating them around her ankles. He pulled her into his arms and her heart swelled from his comfort. He led his wife, this woman he loved, up to their bed.

He gave her the kisses and hugs that she needed. He laid her on her stomach and pulled her pants down once again. No punishment now, only soothing massage. He assured her he loved her and that he would never give up on her. She cried softly into her pillow, realizing that she had been afraid. He soothed her fears and he comforted her. She felt so loved, so cared for, so protected. She still felt remorse for what she had done, but his loving correction had taken the guilt away. They were closer now, her heart open to him.

She felt safe in his arms and she knew her heart was safe with him. The punishment was over and the loving began…..