Story: Pull down your pants

“Come here to me!” the command is clear enough. The way you say it sends chills through me. I don’t move. My legs feel like rubber under me.

“Now!” you growl

You won’t tell me what I’ve done, and I’m afraid to go to you. I stay where I am, and shake my head no. I am wishing that a protective wall would come up behind me and box me into this corner. You put me here only minutes after I came home from running errands.

I came home to find you sitting on the couch. The coffee table moved to the side of the room in front of the fireplace. There were two pillows at your feet, and the long strap rested across your thighs. A pulse of fear surged through me. I knew your intent, but I didn’t know why. I looked into your eyes, and couldn’t read anything there. Your face was set in a stern glowering frown.

“What???! What did I do?” my question was half question and half plea.


“Just put those away and come back in here,” was all you said. There was nothing in your voice for me to read either, only stern command and authority.

My hands trembled as I put away the few cans and fresh vegetables I’d just picked up. I tried again, speaking to you over the counter between the family room and the kitchen, as I rinsed the celery and lettuce for the crisper. “What did I do?”

“Put those away and come on out here,” you repeat. Your voice was as firm as your expression.

I felt my legs quiver, and my stomach churned with the familiar flash of fear that electrified my skin. My fingers buzzed with the unpleasant excess energy of fear. ‘What did I do?’ I searched my mind.

“Honey? What did I do?” I asked you again, when I came back to you after finishing up in the kitchen.

“Is everything put away?” you asked.

I nodded, “yes.”

“In the corner,” you pointed to the corner where I saw for the first time that you’d also moved the curio table.

“Why?” I pleaded again.

“Just do it,” the tone of your voice was filled with power, and again my skin came alive with the surging electrical pulses of fear. I wrung my fingers in an effort to control the unpleasant tingling.

I whimpered, but I moved to obey you.

“Pull down your pants,” you told me, your voice icy with command.

“Why?!” I was beginning to feel panic. You’d never done this to me before. ‘What had I done?’

“Pants down! Now!” your voice boomed.

My hands trembled, my fingers almost useless with pins and needles of fear pulsing and buzzing through them. I managed the zipper, and pushed them down off my hips. My cotton briefs came part way down with them.

“Down to your knees. All the way,” your voice was firm. I did what you said. Tears escaped my eyes, and I began to hiccup with them.

“Please? What did I do?” I said through my tears.

“You stand there, and you think about it. It’ll come to you,” you said. The ice and resolve in your voice made me shiver.

Again I searched my mind. I couldn’t think clearly. This took me by surprise. You took me by surprise. What ever it was I didn’t do it on purpose. Surely I’d know what it was if I did it deliberately? I was miserable, and confused.

The air conditioner cycled on, and I felt the cool swirl of air wash past my bare bottom. It raised goose flesh, and made me shiver. I couldn’t think. I let my eyes examine the rough coat plaster, and then the crackle finish on the picture frame. ‘Neat!’ I thought, as I noticed the tiny cobwebs that bridged the shallow antiqued ridges and fissures. I noticed the very fine hairline crack in the paint over the drywall tape.

Minutes passed, and you said nothing. I could hear you behind me, still sitting there on the couch. Were you looking at me? Were you looking at my bare bottom planning how you would stripe it and change it from white to red.

My knees were beginning to ache. I shifted, and leaned forward putting my hands on each wall, and leaning my forehead on them. I sniffled.

“Stand up straight,” you commanded.

“Please?!!!!! What did I do?” my tears were renewed by your voice.

“Think!” you said. The cold steel of your voice made me shiver again. And then you began to speak to me.

“You’re willful aren’t you?” It was a statement, not a question.

“No,” I said.

“Yes, you are, and you’re stubborn. Aren’t you?” you responded. I said nothing. You waited a minute or so, and then your voice boomed, insisting on an answer. “Aren’t you?!”

“No! Honey what did I do?” I pleaded in response.

“You are! And this is a prime example of it isn’t it?” your voice was clipped and firm.

“I don’t know! Honey, I don’t know what I did?” I pleaded again.

“Think,” you said. There was a nasty teasing edge to your voice then. “Think, and hope you come up with it. If I have to spank it out of you, you’ll be one sorry young lady,”

“I don’t know!” I objected. I stomped my foot, and slapped the walls in exasperation.

“Stand still!” you commanded. It was quiet again.

The rough coat on the walls had shapes in it, Australia, a rabbit, an amazing seagull that even seemed to have the texture of its wings on it. I looked for the tiny spiders that must have made the cobwebs on the frame, but there aren’t any. ‘I guess I better dust,’ I thought.

Many more minutes passed, and I still couldn’t figure out what I have done.

“Any thing to say?” your voice startled me, and a small squeal escaped my lips as I jumped. The surprise sent another surge of electric energy through me. I suddenly felt a very urgent need to pee.

“Can I go pee?” I asked you.

“When you tell me why you’re here,” you answered.

“I don’t know why!” I pleaded. “This isn’t fair! I didn’t do anything! If I did it was an accident! Please honey???? I don’t know!”

“You know, you know full well, and this game better end soon,” you warned me.

“I don’t!” I cried. “I swear I don’t”

You got up and came over to stand behind me. I felt the air behind me become still and warm as you blocked the cool swirl of air conditioned cool. Roughly you gripped and squeezed the cheeks of my bottom. You kneaded them briefly, and then you pinched them cruelly.

“Think!” you growled. “Think about a promise you made Monday morning.”

I winced, and tried to twist my butt away from your hands. “Owwwwwwww,” I whined. “What promise? I don’t remember a promise?” I searched my memory again, and then it came to me. Suddenly I was angry, incensed that you did this to me over something so minor.

“Is that all?! Is that all this was about!” I turned away from the corner, and pushed you away from me. “You made me stand here all this time, you made me feel scared over that!?”

The wickeness in your smile ignited my anger further.

“You son of a bitch!” I punched you. “How could you do that!?”

“Oh we’re not done. Not by a long shot,” your voice became cool and stern again, but the glint in your eyes gave it a new edge. You pushed me backward into the corner, and you slipped your hand between my legs. “No, we’re definitely not done yet.” Your fingers slipped between my folds, and captured the moisture that my body always made when I became aroused by both the fear and anticipation of a spanking. No matter what the reason, be it erotic or punishment, my body’s reaction could not be controlled.

Your touch was rough. The fingers of one hand rubbed, and probed me intimately, and the others caught my face, and made me look at you. The stern look was still there. “You, young lady, are going to be punished,” you stated. “You are going to be spanked.”

You kissed me hard. Your tongue pushed into me.

“Spanked hard,” you added when you released my mouth. With a cruel pinch to my labia, you released me, and turned me roughly to face the walls again. “Spanked long, and hard, until you can promise me you will never again forget to pay the utility bill before the due date.”

“No!” I complained.

“Yessssssssssss!” you hissed into the back of my neck. Your breath, and the promise made me shiver. This time the electric pulses ignited more than fear. My fingers tingled, but this time so did my groin. I felt the pleasantly painful stretching sensation between my legs that told me I was becoming sexually aroused in more than just a physical way.

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2 thoughts on “Story: Pull down your pants

  1. I NEED to know more about what he has in store for her!!! I empathize with what she’s feeling as she waits. She needs to pee–is he going to make her TRY to hold it as he disciplines her? It seems that his punishment style entails humiliation, so I’m eager to read more about that, as it adds to the arousal. Where can I find the rest???


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