
Originally Posted by
blythespirit
Yes, indeed, the humiliation of having to search the back yard for the "switch," which to this day stands in a vase along with some golden twigs as a reminder.
Then having to lift my skirt and stand in the corner, bared-assed, as he lectured me and explained what was going to happen and why. The anticipation left me squirming.
But still greater anticipation awaited me when he bent me over the back of a club chair and positioned me to his liking. I could feel my butt cheeks involuntarily clench and perspiration break out on my brow as the switch repeatedly whizzed through the air, hard and fast, while I listened to the prelude before it connected with my butt. Sheer torture. Listening was almost enough to make me want to call out my "safe word" and before the switch ever met my ass cheeks, I was tearfully contrite and pleading.
When we'd have guests and he felt I wasn't behaving properly, all he needed to do was look to the vase and then at me.