Promise Keeper M/F, by NYIrishRed
"You've been a naughty girl."
She sat back in her chair, stunned ... the opening sentence of the email on her screen sending a frisson of fear straight to her belly. She wracked her brain, trying to remember what it was she may have done. What, what?? Was it something she forgot to do, or something she did that she shouldn't have? Something she said? Something she wore? Or was it simply that he decided she was a naughty girl, and that was the end of it?
The note continued...
"Tonight, on your way home, you will stop by the oak trees lining the parking lot and select an appropriate switch."
Damn him! She knew exactly what he meant to do. And, of course, as she crossed the short distance to the car at 5:30, half the building was doing the same thing. She stood for a moment in the evening sun, hoping against hope that a lull in pedestrian traffic would occur. The flow of humanity continued, and with a sigh she turned to survey her choices.
Long ago she noticed the long, green shoots that almost magically appeared around the base of the oaks. It seemed as though one day there was nothing, the next day a dozen saplings ringed the trunk. Idiot that she was, she mentioned it to him in passing, and the next time he met her after work she found him studying the slender branches much too carefully for her liking.
"You will choose wisely. The switch will need to be snapped off at its base. No tool may be used to procure it."
Evil bastard! He knew that meant struggling to acquire it, no quick snip-snip and off she goes. No, he wanted her to be seen choosing the means of her punishment. The shade of the trees did nothing to assuage the hot flush staining her face and neck as she quickly spotted what she hoped was a "wise" choice and bent to snap, twist and pull the offensive thing free of its earthy bonds. She ran her fingers down the length of the almost three foot stick, catching the leaves as she went, and ... head down ... hurried to her car.
"You will drive home with it in plain sight, so that you may look upon it and know. When you arrive at the toll plaza, you will inform the worker there of its purpose."
She lifted her foot off the gas pedal and coasted slowly into the narrow passageway next to the tollbooth, finally coming to a complete stop. No!! It wasn't some nameless stranger, as she'd wished, but the handsome hunk she'd flirted with countless times. He wouldn't know. She could just say hello, pay the toll, and be on her way. He would never know!
But something... *something*... made her obey, and after a brief hesitation she found herself picking up the nasty bit of business and, in a shaking voice, revealing to the man that it was being brought home so that she may be whipped with it on her bare bottom. The hot flash of lust in his eyes mortified her, as was the intent of the confession, and she sped off wishing she had taken advantage of the EZ Pass application he so frequently offered.
"When you arrive home, you will stop at the front door, remove your clothing, fold it neatly and present yourself to me in the living room, completely naked."
The house was comfortably warm, for which she was grateful. She dropped her purse and keys on the table and methodically divested herself of attire. What was it she did?? Will it actually be a punishment? The thought made her break out in a cold sweat, and her hands trembled as she picked up the switch and dragged herself into the living room to face the inevitable.
"You will stand in the center of the room, hands on your head, until I am ready to begin. Before I am done, I will have marked you as my own."
The sweat beaded and ran down from her temple along her neck. Please!! Just get this over with. But he was not to be rushed, and she maintained position as he circled silently, tapping the switch against his palm, or swishing it in the air. Finally, he gently grabbed hold of her and brought his arm back, then forward with a rush.
A millisecond of delay, then it happened. The hot line of fire, then the deeper, more lasting burn. No more silence from her, as she shrieked and whirled, held firmly so that her circle dance mirrored his of moments ago. The strokes were fast and painful, stinging her bottom and thighs, creating line atop line of hot, red anguish.
He was holding back, she knew, as he maneuvered her ..dancing, writhing... closer to the sofa. Then it was over the cushions, a momentary reprieve from the whipping. No resistance anymore as he placed his hand upon her back and lashed down once, twice ... six times. Hard. She wailed as she felt the skin puff and stretch and knew he had fulfilled his vow.
She lay there exhausted, beaten, unable to move ... her bottom high in the air ... sore and throbbing. He ran his fingers lightly over her welts, checking that the severity was not overdone and she would soon be unblemished once again. Through the aching smart, she was aware of the discomfort she would suffer upon sitting for the next day or so, as even the slightest touch of his hand caused her to flinch.
"And then, my love. And then..."
Waiting. Waiting for permission to rise, but instead she felt his touch change as his palms kneaded her buttocks, then separated them, his thumb traversing the crevice between, coming to rest where it had never rested before. Keeping his unspoken promise.