Wanda asked for this. She needed this.
Clutter carpeted the lovely hardwood floors of her home and dust blanketed the beautiful antique end tables. Her home reflected her exquisite tastes, but her lack of discipline in keeping up with household tasks hide the beauty and uniqueness of her treasures to the point where she no longer enjoyed her trinkets. Living alone, Wanda knew of no good reason aside from laziness for the mess, and so she had e-mailed a request to David.
When she first met David, she had been a scrawny 10 year old with more attitude than sense. David had been a 14 year old neighbor who didn't tolerate bullying. So when he witnessed several of the older boys in the neighborhood throwing rocks at Wanda, he'd taken matters into his own hands. Over the course of the next 25 years, he had become her best friend, confidante, protector, lover and disciplinarian in all matter, both big and small.
He sat on her couch, amid the clutter, and frowned at her.
"Position yourself," he instructed.
Wanda sighed. When she had e-mailed David, she knew he would be stern with her primarily because she herself had requested disciplining. Now that the moment had arrived, however, she bit her lip in consternation.
"You need this, young lady. Now don't make make me wait," he said with an edge to his voice.
Not meeting his eyes, Wanda stripped and positioned herself over his knees, her hands braced against the floor for balance.
"When was the last time you cleaned?" he asked as he gently rubber her exposed cheeks.
"I did laundry last week," she answered meekly.
Smack! Wanda jumped and squealed.
"In July," she amended quickly. "I cleaned everything in July."
David paused a moment then said, "So roughly 90 days ago. Fine. We will begin with that."
Wanda hung her head and stiffled a sigh. 90 swats. And they would not be gentle. David was never gentle when it came to a discipline session. Her only hope was that his hand would grown sore and he would ease up on the force of his blows.
"Lucky for you, my slovenly maid, I have a wonderful new leather paddle. Ready?"
Wanda swallowed her last bit of hope for a respite and nodded.
"Yes, Sir. I'm ready."
Clutter carpeted the lovely hardwood floors of her home and dust blanketed the beautiful antique end tables. Her home reflected her exquisite tastes, but her lack of discipline in keeping up with household tasks hide the beauty and uniqueness of her treasures to the point where she no longer enjoyed her trinkets. Living alone, Wanda knew of no good reason aside from laziness for the mess, and so she had e-mailed a request to David.
When she first met David, she had been a scrawny 10 year old with more attitude than sense. David had been a 14 year old neighbor who didn't tolerate bullying. So when he witnessed several of the older boys in the neighborhood throwing rocks at Wanda, he'd taken matters into his own hands. Over the course of the next 25 years, he had become her best friend, confidante, protector, lover and disciplinarian in all matter, both big and small.
He sat on her couch, amid the clutter, and frowned at her.
"Position yourself," he instructed.
Wanda sighed. When she had e-mailed David, she knew he would be stern with her primarily because she herself had requested disciplining. Now that the moment had arrived, however, she bit her lip in consternation.
"You need this, young lady. Now don't make make me wait," he said with an edge to his voice.
Not meeting his eyes, Wanda stripped and positioned herself over his knees, her hands braced against the floor for balance.
"When was the last time you cleaned?" he asked as he gently rubber her exposed cheeks.
"I did laundry last week," she answered meekly.
Smack! Wanda jumped and squealed.
"In July," she amended quickly. "I cleaned everything in July."
David paused a moment then said, "So roughly 90 days ago. Fine. We will begin with that."
Wanda hung her head and stiffled a sigh. 90 swats. And they would not be gentle. David was never gentle when it came to a discipline session. Her only hope was that his hand would grown sore and he would ease up on the force of his blows.
"Lucky for you, my slovenly maid, I have a wonderful new leather paddle. Ready?"
Wanda swallowed her last bit of hope for a respite and nodded.
"Yes, Sir. I'm ready."
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