Clips, Bath Brush, Cane and Intimate Submission – Well Punished

There was little doubt I was to be punished. I had been sharp with Hannah and, worse, had promised to be home and had been an hour late. The problem was, as ever, that I have to ask for my punishment and I have to suggest what I think might be appropriate. Hannah can ignore my suggestion; but I am required to make it.

I was put to bed in a pantigirdle. Tight, but quite bearable. But there was no question of an erection. In fact, the pretty black girdle pretty much eliminated my sexuality for the evening. Which is, of course, never really in issue as only Hannah’s sexual needs matter in our marriage. Mine have been entirely subordinated to hers and while I am, occasionally, allowed to masturbate or have the black prostate probe slipped into me for a hands off milking, I am really only allowed to come a couple of days a month when Hannah is on heat and has taken her pleasure on my tongue or hand (or hers) and I am allowed into her for her greater pleasure.

Which was all very well but I had to consider what I should ask for by way of my punishment. I fell asleep.

On awaking I realized I would need a severe correction and that I realized with a bit of a shudder, meant the bath brush as well as the cane. I waited for Hannah to wake up and, having offered her water, asked her when she would be ready to discuss my punishment. “Now darling, and you really were both rude and inconsiderate.” I apologized and suggested that fifty strokes of the bathbrush and an equal number of the cane seemed about right. “I’ll think about it.” said Hannah get out of bed. “You stay right where you are.”

I lay there listening to the sounds of Hannah’s morning routine. A few minutes thinking about whether my punishment suggestion had met her expectations. I heard her bare feet pad down our hall.

“You were very inconsiderate. And this is not the first time. While I think fifty stokes of both the brush and the cane are right, I will give you the brush over your girdle. However, before I do I want you to spend some corner time thinking about why you are going to be punished. Now get my last night panties and the bath brush and come with me.” Hannah marched me over to her make up table. “Take off your t-shirt.” I did and Hannah took my left nipple between her nails. It stood proud as she clamped the teeth of her antique lingerie clip, then the right nipple received the same none too gentle treatment. “Open your mouth.” I complied and Hannah carefully pushed her panties into my mouth taking care to leave the cotton panel out so I might press it to the corner with my nose. “Now, get to your corner and hold that brush behind you back. Feet together and a foot away from the wall.” This last was important as it meant I had to lean into the wall. Easy for a minute or two, difficult for any length of time.

“I think you should think carefully about how you can do better in future.” Hannah caressed my girdled hips. “I will not do for a man in your position to be anything other than strictly obedient. You didn’t ask permission to go out and then arrived home an hour after you said you would. That is not acceptable. Now I have some things to do and I want you to consider just how badly it reflects on me to have a man in your position ignore his training and his promises.” With that she left.

Standing, nose pressed into the sweetly scented cotton of Hannah’s panties, holding the bath brush behind my back I concentrated on how much in love I was. And how lucky. And I thought of Hannah’s completely reasonable expectations and how poorly I had behaved. I had plenty of time to think. The nipple clips began to bite and my position reminded me of my submission. I don’t know how long I stood. Hannah was somewhere downstairs beginning the day and brewing a pot of tea. The moisture of my breath released more of Hannah’s heady scent. I began to lose track of time and was a bit startled when the lady of the house returned.

Hannah motioned to the corner of the bed where my belt lay ready to pinion my wrists to my ankles. “I hope you have thought about how inconsiderate you were. A quick phone call and I would have known when to expect you.” Hannah said, pulling the belt very tight and buckling it. “If it happens again I’ll have to be even more severe than I am going to be right now and, more importantly, you will not be allowed to go out.”

I felt her open palm slap the thin material of the pantigirdle. It was, I feared, scant protection. And I was right. The bath brush hit my right cheek. “One” I thought to myself. At about “Thirty” I lost my mental count. The girdle’s thin fabric took a little of the edge off the sting; but the steady and increasing force of Hannah’s strokes left me gasping in my panty gag. If I could have I would have vocalized. A lot. I don’t think Hannah lost count. I don’t know. All I do know was that I was driving into the pain. Pushing my bottom back to meet Hannah’s bath brush and reveling in my position.

Which may sound a bit odd. Yet the very point of being a man in my position is that you accept the lady of the house’s right to correct you to the extent she decides is fit. The flames of pain met the cooling reality of very deep love and unfettered devotion. I was hers and she was correcting my behaviour and disciplining me. Which is what I wanted almost as much as I wanted her.

At last she put down the brush. I had a moment or two to catch my breath. I thought she might roll down my girdle for my caning but she had other ideas. She took the thinner of the two dowels and began to work from the tops of my thighs. Again, I tried to count but lost track after a dozen strokes. I fear that Hannah is not comfortable with her backhand and so my poor right cheek bore the brunt of my caning. She did switch sides for a moment or two but switched back unable to adjust her strokes. At some point the dowel actually broke and Hannah carried on with the short end. It didn’t matter. The sting of the cane was barely muffled by the girdle. A completely different pain than the brush. More precise. Line after line and always the finish on the right cheek.

And then, then it was done.

I felt Hannah undoing my belt. As I recovered I lay on my side and remembered that my nipple clips were still in place. Hannah sat beside me and sipped her tea. The panties were out of my mouth now and I could thank Hannah. She fumbled a bit with the clips but, got them off. I lay in the soft afterglow of the hardest whipping I have ever had. “I could have used the brush harder,” said Hannah, “but I was not sure you would make it through fifty really hard strokes.” I think I would have but I was not about to volunteer right that instant. I rubbed my bottom.

“Time for your shower darling,” said Hannah, putting down her tea, “You can take your position and I will be in in a moment.”

A perfect punishment ended in the delightful humbling of intimate submission. The lady’s gift was a wonderful as ever.


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