A naked girl, prostrate, with her bottom up and presented
A photo from a long dead blog titled Sweetness Follows... which used to be at noundies.net.

Una Memoria di Katerina

This is one of those stories that just blossomed. It is is a remembrance of a spanking that I gave, with a few fictional additions (I didn't actually make the girl wait all day and I didn't put her in the corner). Spanking play really takes off when there is some undefined mental connection. The scene flows like a Jazz session, where the two players start improvising on the same theme. In a scene like this I can let myself become who I am, deep down in my core, running free. If you wonder want a Wintermute spanking is like, read this story. Like a butterfly trapped in amber, I hope that these words will preserve this memory.

You've known all day that you are going to get a spanking. Waiting is so hard. Knowing that you're going to get a hard spanking, but not knowing when. When the waiting gets to much you break down and ask me to spank you, so that you can get it over with. When I tell you "All in good time, young lady", you stamp your foot in frustration.

Time drags on and then, when you're thinking of something else, I call you over to me. I tell you that you've been a naughty girl and that you're getting a long hard spanking. Then I start to undress you. You hate the loss of control, being undressed like a little girl. You are tempted to protest, to insist that you can do it yourself. I slip your shirt over your head. Then I unbutton your pants and pull them down to your ankles so you can step out of them. I unhook your bra and slide it off your shoulders. All you are wearing now is a little pair of sheer black bikini panties.

I hand you your cloths and tell you that I want you to go to the bedroom and lay out the ruler paddle, the rattan cane and the Scary Paddle. When I come into the room, I tell you, I want to see standing in the corner, in those little panties. You think of stamping your foot and telling me that it's not fair to have to put out the implements for your spanking. Why do you have to do it? But you think better of lodging a complaint just before you're going to get a hard spanking. What if I decide to give you extra strokes? Besides, you're a good girl. Even if you're spanking top is mean.

All you say is "Yes, Sir" and go off to the bedroom. You put your cloths on a chair, get out the implements and lay them out on the bed. You hate even having to touch the spanking implements. They almost feel like they're alive, waiting to punish your bottom while you cry. Reluctantly, you go and stand in the corner near the head of the bed. You hate corner time. As you wait in the corner all you can think of is how boring it is and how you're going to be crying soon as you're being spanked. You feel naked and vulnerable, wearing only the sheer little panties. And boring, you think about how boring it is to stand in the corner. Spankings seem more merciful than corner time. Your top is so mean making you stand in the corner and spanking you. What's he doing, channeling Dick Cheney? He claims that he's just a big cuddly bear. Yeah, right. A big cuddly bear with those intense eyes, who loves to make you cry. Boring. The corner is so boring. How come you can't read in the corner? You remember how you tried that once and got spanked for it. Then you had to stand in the corner again and after that you had to take the spanking you had been originally been waiting for. Not like any cuddly bear I've ever heard of, you think to yourself. And how come he's so mean and unfair, any way?

Finally you hear my footsteps. I come into the room and see you in the corner and think of how lovely you look in your sheer panties. I go and sit on the bed behind you.

"Come here, young lady", I tell you.

Suddenly the corner seems like a better place than you realized and you want to stay in the corner. You know that you need a spanking, but you also know that the spanking is going to hurt. You turn and walk over to my right side. You stand there looking down at my lap for a moment.

"Over my knee, naughty girl", I order

"Yes, Sir", you answer as you lie across my lap.

I start spanking you with my hand, alternating cheeks. The spanking hurts and you feel like a bad little girl. After a moment I tell you to put your right hand behind your back. You protest, but do as you're told. I hold your hand with my left hand as I spank you. You feel even more helpless now as I spank you. Your bottom is starting to sting. You wish that I allowed you do wear cotton panties when I spank you. Of course that would mean that you've have to buy some cotton panties. The sheer panties don't feel like they provide much protection from my hand.

The spanking is really starting to hurt. "Spread your thighs", you hear me say after what seems like many slaps on your bottom. I caress your bottom, feeling the smooth sheer material under my hand. I can see the bare skin at the edge of your panties has blushed pink from the spanking I've given you. I caress your pussy though the sheer material, running my finger over your lips which are tightly outlined by your panties. I move my finger up to your clit and rub. The material that covers your lips is moist.

"Bad girl. You're wet. You seem to have forgotten that you're over my knee to be punished", I tell you as I caress you. You think of saying something like "Well, that doesn't feel much like punishment, Sir", but decide not to since I might stop the caresses and start spanking you again. You push up against my hand, as I rub you. Then you feel my hand move away as I pull your panties down to the middle of your thighs. For a moment you hope that this will be a prelude to more caresses on your pussy. Then you feel my hand spanking you again. It hurts even more now that your bottom is bare. The spanking seems to go on and on. Soon you're crying, tears starting down your cheeks, then sobs as the spanking continues. When I stop spanking you the smooth soft skin over the curve of your buttocks is a deep pink.

"Spread your thighs, bad girl", I tell you again, since you've pressed your legs together as I spanked you. I caress you again. You lips are smooth and slick with wetness, despite your crying.

"I'm shocked, young lady. You're such a little slut", I tell you affectionately. "I think that it's time for the ruler paddle, don't you. My hand is starting to hurt."

"Oh, your poor hand, Sir. I do really feel sorry for it. But no Sir, I don't think it's time for the ruler paddle", you respond.

"Well, its good that these things are not up to naughty girls or they would never get punished. Take you panties off and get the ruler paddle, young lady."

"I hate having to get the paddle, Sir", you complain.

I know. That's why I make you do it."

"You're very mean, Sir", you say as you stand up. You let your panties fall to the floor and step out of them. You walk over to the other side of the bed and get the ruler paddle. You return to my right side and hand me the paddle. You hesitate for a moment and then lie over my lap, this time entirely naked.

I rub the paddle over the curve of your bottom in little circles and pat the lower part of your cheeks. I know that you hate waiting, thinking about how much it's going to hurt. Sometimes I think I'm going to hear "So could you spank me already", but it hasn't happened yet. I tell you give me your hand.

I raise the ruler paddle and bring it down hard across your cheeks. I give you ten strokes, counting the strokes out loud as I administer them. I can tell that you find the ruler paddle hard to take, but you're a very good girl and hardly clench your bottom in response to the paddle smacks. You are silent as you take the first couple of strokes across your bottom, but soon each stroke is echoed by a little cry of pain which soon turns into crying. After I've given you five strokes I tell you that you're half way. Then at eight I tell you that we're almost there. I give the last stroke very hard. I let go of your right hand.

"Spread your thighs. You know better than that", I scold.

I know that you hate being scolded for something that you did imperfectly. But I know how hard it is for you to keep your legs open so there's no pressure on your clit as you get spanked. I put my hand between your thighs again, caressing your lips, rubbing your clit. Like the good girl you are, you warn me that you're getting close to orgasm. You know that good girls only get to come when they are given permission. I stop rubbing you and pat your bottom again with the paddle. "Another ten", I tell you. "Now I want you to ask me for your paddling", I add.

You hesitate. I know that asking for your spanking is hard for you. And I know that all of those little hard things are the very things that are extremely erotic for you too. "Please, Sir, will you paddle me hard?", you say.

You put your right hand behind your back when I tell say "Give me your hand". I hold your hand in my left hand and start counting out another ten strokes. You bottom is starting to blush a deeper pink under then paddle. I know you're getting sore and that your spanking hurts more and more.

When I stop paddling you, I caress your bottom again. The smooth skin is warm under my hand, starting to blush toward red. I think to myself that you're going to be crimson by the time I'm done spanking you. You've been a good girl and kept your thighs spread this time. I let go of your hand and lean over you, toward your head, cradling your head on my left arm. I say, softly in your ear, that you've been a good girl. With my right hand I start to caress your pussy again. I hear you draw your breath in sharply as I move my thumb inside you, with my heel of my hand against your clit. I start to move my thumb in and out of your pussy, as I rub your clit. "I'm close", you tell me. I withdraw my hand. "Good girl", I tell you.

"OK, young lady", I tell you. You told me once that sentences that started with "OK young lady" you usually ended with something that you didn't like. Or at least if you liked it, what was coming was going to hurt. "I want you to get up and lie over the pillows. I'm going to give you a caning."

I stand up after you do and take two pillows from the head of the bed and put them in the middle. I pick up the cane and slap it down on the pillows. You think about what it's going to be like taking the cane across your bare bottom. "Over the pillows", I order. You lie over the bed on your tummy, with the pillows under your hips, pushing your bottom up. "Spread your thighs", I remind you. You open your legs. You know that you're totally exposed in this position, with your bottom pushed up, waiting for the cane.

I'm standing on the left side of the bed, so I can bring the cane down across your bottom with my left arm. I start to tap your bottom with the cane, giving you soft little strokes. Once again I know that you hate this waiting, knowing that the painful strokes are coming. I tell you that you're going to get ten strokes on each side. "Bottom up", I tell you. "I want your bottom pushed up, just as if you're about to be taken".

You push your bottom up. I love seeing you like this, your bottom pushed up, you bottom and pussy exposed and presented. I raise the cane and bring it down hard across your ass. I give the strokes slowly. You feel each stroke come down on your bare bottom, the burn spreading out from the line of impact. The fire from the cane stroke seems to spread over your cheeks and between your legs. I give the strokes from the middle curve of your bottom to the part just above your thighs.

"Spread those thighs, bad girl", I tell you when I notice that your thighs are pressed together. "You know better than that. I'm afraid that you've earned an extra stroke".

"I tried, Sir. I didn't mean to do it", you say, as tears run down your face. You spread your thighs.

I start caning you again. A few strokes later your thighs are pressed together. I order you to spread your thighs and inform you that you've earned another "extra". By the time I've finished giving you ten strokes, you're crying softly. I inform you that you have to extra strokes to take and that I want you bottom nicely presented for punishment. You push your bottom up and I give the strokes, hard, as you cry.

I move the tip of the cane between your legs, between your pussy lips, rubbing over your clit with the smooth rattan rod. I stop and give you some light strokes on your inner thighs and then rub your lips more. I can feel that you're getting close now, without your telling me. When I stop you feel like you want to kick your legs and protest. You want that pressure back on your pussy, driving you toward orgasm.

I move to the right side of the bed. I pride myself on punishing a girls bottom evenly and moving to the other side allows the opposite buttock to take the tip of the cane, which always hits harder.

"Bottom up", I order. You arch your back, pushing your bottom up. The cane taps your bottom again and that's that wait, not knowing when your punishment is going to start again. Then the first stroke burns across your bottom. I give you another ten, slow and hard as you cry under the strokes. This time you're a good girl and keep your thighs spread all through your caning.

"OK, young lady, you can get up now", I tell you. The endorphins are flowing through you and you feel slightly intoxicated, so I help you up. I pick up the Scary Paddle from the bed and sit down. "Over my knee, naughty girl", I tell you. You are feeling very submissive and don't argue this time as you lie across my lap to take your punishment. I put the Scary Paddle down on the bed, next to your head. "There it is, where you can see it", I tell you.

"No, Sir. I don't want to look at it", you protest.

"No, did I hear 'no'?", I ask. "You didn't hear that, Sir", you assure me.

"I'm glad that I was mistaken. Naughty girls don't get to say 'no', only 'yes, sir'" I tell you. "You can look at the paddle and then you can hand it to me when I ask for it", I add.

I caress your bottom. The cane has left welts lining the soft skin of your bottom. The welts are faint railroad lines crossing your bottom, deeper pink in the middle, with thin lighter lines on each side. Your bottom is red and sore now. I love the idea of paddling you over the cane welts.

I start spanking you with my hand, giving the slaps hard. You feel like you're about fourteen, a bad girl getting a spanking. The slaps on your sore cheeks hurt a lot more than the earlier hand spanking. And they're so hard. The hand spanking hurts almost as much as the ruler paddling did. I continue spanking you until my hand is stinging and your crying again.

"My hand hurts", I inform you. "You've spanked it very soundly with your bottom."

"Oh, poor hand, Sir", you say trying to sound as sincere as possible as you think "Yeah, your hand hurts. What about my ass? I don't notice that you're crying!"

"Hand me the paddle young lady", I tell you. You hesitate. You really don't want to do this, but you're a good girl and you pass the paddle back to me with your left hand.

I pat your bottom with the paddle, rubbing the smooth wood over the curve of your bottom. As I caress you with the paddle, you start crying. "You're crying, but you haven't even been paddled yet", I say.

"I know it's going to hurt. That paddle hurts so much", you say between sobs.

"It does", I agree. I pet you. "Poor girl. Your spanking is going to hurt, but it will be over soon. Now I'm going to give you ten on each cheek", I tell you.

I start counting the strokes out, giving you one smack on your right cheek, then one on the left before counting. The paddle smacks hurt, much more than anything you've had so far. The smack has a deep burn and a thud that seems to travel all the way through your body. Your body tenses as you take the first few strokes, but then something seems to let go. You just lie over my lap, sobbing as you take your punishment. The world is gone. I am there, the paddle and the pain. After what seems like a long time, the paddling stops.

You feel my hand between your thighs, my finger moving over your lips, then your clit. I push my thumb inside you as I hold you over my lap. I rub that spot under your mons, fucking you with my finger. I can feel you start to move, as your excitement builds. You're still crying from your spanking as you ask my permission to cum. I give you permission as I move m hand against your clit rubbing your G-spot. You push back against my hand, your breath coming hard as the orgasm washes over you. "Oh... My... God...", you say as your pussy shudders with your orgasm.

Case Wintermute
October, 2008


Case Wintermute

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