I am waiting when you come home. I am barefoot, wearing very short cutoff jeans and a loose pink tank top, holding the tawse in my hands. I run my hands up and down it, feeling the supple leather under my skin. It isn’t long before you return.
You walk in the door. I am standing, legs spread apart, holding the tawse with both hands in front of me. “You know what you’ve got coming”, I say.
You close the door behind yourself. I grab a tight knot of your hair in my left hand, holding the tawse in my right. I pull your face close to mine and snarl. “I want you down on all fours right here, right now. Take your fucking pants down. You’re getting your ass beat.”
I release your hair and you drop to your knees, your hands already undoing your belt. You lower your face to the floor as you lower your pants and boxers. You then put your hands down on either side of your head, pressed against the tile of our entry hall. You know the position. We’ve done this before.
I slap the tawse against the palm of my left hand. You wince at the sharp noise. I begin to pad around you in my bare feet as you kneel. I slap the tawse against my hand again. “I’m getting tired of having to do this, brat. You need to learn to behave.”
I pad around to the vulnerable bare ass that you are presenting to me. I run the tawse slowly across your bare skin. “Until you learn to behave, you’re going to keep getting your ass beat.”
I bring the tawse back and swing, hard, the leather smacking and stinging your bare ass. You make a soft, involuntary moan as the tawse connects. I bring it back again, swing, and smack you again, leading to another low moan.
I smack twice more in quick succession. Your exposed bare ass is already turning pink. I swing again, delivering another painful smack. You grunt and wince at the painful swat. Two more quick, hard smacks bring more moans from you. Your stinging ass is quickly becoming bright red, and I decide to tease you about it.
“Look at your red ass. You are a naughty little boy who can’t learn how to behave.” I deliver another stinging swat and kneel next to your sore ass. Your pants and boxers are around your knees, and your balls hang down between your legs. I grab them and squeeze, hard. “Naughty little boys who can’t learn how to behave get to meet my nasty little friend. Do you want to keep having these sessions with my nasty little friend? Because that’s what we’re going to do until you learn.” I let go of your balls and stand, bring the tawse back and swing, smacking your red ass hard. I give you two more quick, hard swats while you wince and moan. I lean forward and rub my hand across your sore and stinging skin. I bring the tawse back again and give you another hard swat. You moan again. I kneel and grab your balls again, squeezing hard. “My nasty little friend can smack you all day.”
I release your balls, stand, and deliver another stinging smack. I give three more, one after the other, each hard and stinging. I stop, walk over to the wall, and move a chair that I’ve had waiting in front of your face. I sit down in front of you and cross my legs.
I’ve been going barefoot all day. In our apartment, in the parking lot, in the garden outside. The soles of my feet are dirty. I run my bare big toe along the side of your face, the other side of your face still pressed against the tile. “I want you to clean my feet. With your pathetic tongue. I want them clean, not wet. So don’t slobber, or we can start all over again.”
