Servant

She did warn me when she took me on. "I'll be very strict." She said, leaning forward and smiling at me in a way that made my insides feel strange.

"Strict?" I asked, at that stage not sure what she meant.

"Yes, strict. If you accept the job, you'll find out." And when her eyes met mine, sending me secret messages, I knew I wanted the job, whatever it involved.

And now I know. Virtually every day I'm taken over her knee and spanked, sometime with only my bottom bare, and sometimes with so little clothing left I might as well be naked. I'd never been spanked before and at first I was nervous, but now, well how I feel about it is different.

"You are so bad!" She says to me, her voice gentle and in contrast to her punishing hand, and it's as if she is doing this for my own good and because I need it. I'm sure I do, and when each time I my bottom reaches scalding point and I call out that I've really learned my lesson, she soothes me with her hand and her sweet words and makes it all right in ways I didn't even know existed, ways that leave me swooning and groaning with something I don't have words for.

And when I drop off to sleep at night, still feeling the caress of her lips on my burning bottom, I know that she'll probably spank me again the next day, and safe with that knowledge, I fall into a deep and happy sleep.