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Bottoms Up! Tales of Public and Private Correction
by Terri Pray

Category: Erotica/BDSM Erotica
Description: Stories of Spankinng and Soreness! Terri Pray scores again with this blistering collection of tales of corporal punishment. Find out what happens when Moria faces "Public Correction" at her boyfriend's hand. Then Reese discovers how far a woman sometimes has to go for a man when her boyfriend demands she display some "Bare-Bottom Trust." Next Barbara takes it on the rear when her husband catches her neglecting her "Household Duties." Finally Rachel finds she needs her boyfriend to step up and correct her, and he does, when she has a "Bad Day" and tries to take it out on him. A Hot-Flashes Quick-Read.
eBook Publisher: Renaissance E Books/Sizzler Editions,
eBookwise Release Date: May 2008

eBookeBook

13 Reader Ratings:
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Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [64 KB]
Words: 14847
Reading time: 42-59 min.


PUBLIC CORRECTION

Moira stared into the mirror. Streaks of grey hair stood out amongst the once vivid red hair and she reached up, plucking at one in disgust. She should have gone with her first instinct and used a bottle of dye to hide the growing number of silver grey hairs that had appeared over the last year, but he'd made it clear. No dye.

Men. Didn't he understand that adding a little color to her hair would have made her feel better? The last thing she wanted to be was the old woman standing in the middle of the svelte young things at the party. And there were bound to be plenty of sweet young things there, no doubt in sexy outfits, each one far more suited to catching his attention than she was.

So just why did he insist on doing this to her? Public humiliation wasn't her thing, was it?

God alone knew what he had in mind as she'd barely had the chance to work out what she enjoyed and what she didn't. There was no way she'd be able to match up to the women there and this would all end in tears.

Maybe there was time to back out?

She reached for the phone, only to snatch her hand back. No, canceling would only anger him. She blinked and looked back into the polished surface of the mirror. No, it wouldn't be anger, instead she'd face something far worse. His disappointment.

No, she wasn't ready to face that look in his eyes, or hear those terrible words. She had agreed to attend the party and she had to go through with it, even if she only attended the party this once. It couldn't be that bad.

Moira shook her head and picked up the brush, tugging it through her hair until it curled about her shoulders. At least he'd been right about one thing, her hair did look better now that it had grown out. That had been one of his first instructions when she had accepted that he was in charge of their relationship all those months ago. It still had a long way to go before he would be happy with the length, but she'd come to terms with the idea. The rest of his guidelines had been easy enough at first, until he'd stepped things up a month ago. Had she even been ready for that? It hadn't mattered, he'd still pushed for it and now she'd have to face them all at the party.

"What am I doing?" She set the brush down and pushed away from the dressing table. "I'm not ready for this."

Would she ever be ready?

Not unless there was someone pushing her through the door, which is exactly what Carl would do to her. Especially if she wasn't ready when he arrived to pick her up, he'd even set it up that she wouldn't be able to chicken out on the drive over there by refusing to let her drive herself. It wasn't as if she didn't trust him, she did, more than she'd ever trusted anyone in her life, but she was beginning to resent the way he'd set the evening up in a manner that would reduce her chances of escaping.

Her only choice would be ask him for permission to leave. And that was not something that he would be willing to do without a good reason. He'd taken the time to make these plans and he'd be expecting her to follow through with his instructions.

For a moment she wanted to rebel, but then she took a deep breath and recalled what she'd agreed to do.

She glanced at the clock and straightened her dress before she slipped into her shoes and walked down the stairs. He'd be here soon. He was nothing if not punctual. Another aspect she'd had to struggle to adapt to. Timekeeping hadn't been one of her most shining qualities and she'd had the sore bottom to remind her of her duty to learn how to keep track of the time.

She tensed at the sound of the car pulling up into her driveway, then tried to force herself to relax, it took several deep breathes before her heart rate returned to normal and she once again focused her gaze on the door.

She was dressed the way he wanted her to, in the short black dress he had picked out for her. Too short. She tugged at the hem of the dress, wishing he'd let her wear another one, but he'd insisted and now she'd have to face everyone else at the party wearing a dress that was at least twenty years too young for her. What did he think she looked like? Her legs were lumpy and too thick at the thighs for an outfit like this. It was cut far too low across the breasts and left her arms bare. She plucked at the slightly loose skin under her arms. Damn him. She was forty five, not twenty five. She didn't have the body to go with this dress!

The door opened and she flinched, fighting the urge to cringe and hide how she looked even as he walked in through the door. He didn't speak at first, instead his gaze moved slowly over her body, lingering on her thighs, then moving upward to her breasts. Her nipples hardened beneath the thin black dress, until they pressed against the material, forming two hard peaks that stood out in a way she could not hide.

Even if she had the chance to.

She shifted her weight slightly, and lowered her gaze, hoping he wouldn't see just how uncomfortable she was in the chosen dress.

"Is there something the matter, Moira? You look out of place." Carl closed the door behind him. "And you're missing the shoes I told you to wear. I'm not impressed by your lack of thought there or did you presume you would attend tonight bare footed?"

She blanched. Damn it, she knew she'd forgotten something. "No, of course not. I'm sorry. I just. Well, I'm not that comfortable in heels. I always feel like I'm about to topple over in them." That had to be the understatement of the century. She hated heels. She'd never felt comfortable wearing them and now adding them to this outfit only made her feel even more self conscious than before.

"Put them on." His hazel eyes narrowed, the warmth leaving his smile.

Her stomach flip flopped, but she sucked in her breath and slipped into the heels. They weren't that high, barely two inches, but they were still enough to leave her feeling as if she'd totter over at any given moment. "I'm sorry, Carl."

"I don't like it when you attempt to circumvent my instructions, pet. Please remember that for next time." He stepped forward, the smart suit looked comfortable on his body, and accentuated his broad shoulders. "Is there something wrong?"

"I just--I wasn't expecting you to be dressed like this."

"Ah, you were expecting that maybe I'd turn up in jeans and a T-shirt? Well I'm sure everyone else will be well dressed, this is a business dinner after all, with someone I've known for many years now." He held out his arm, waiting for her to accept his offer.

She took a deep breath and rested her hand on his arm, letting him lead her out to the waiting car.

* * * *

Whatever she'd been expecting to see at a party, it hadn't been this. Business men and women mingled in one large room, though the house had several smaller rooms on the lower floor, including a large dressing room that they had been led into by the hostess where they had both placed their coats for the evening.

"But where will meeting take place?" She whispered as he led her through the rooms to a large lounge. Several couples had already settled there for the duration, sharing light conversation and glasses of wine. Not Carl though, he'd reached for something non alcoholic and pressed her to do the same thing.

"In the study, after dinner no doubt."

"The house, it's bigger than I expected it to be."

"Yes, it's been in Brian's family for many years now." Carl nodded slightly, turning to look around the lounge. "There are almost a dozen rooms on the ground floor alone. Perhaps one day we'll be able to have a house of our own that will match this place. But for now, try to relax. No one here is going to bite you, or say something hurtful. Most of the women here are wives and girlfriends. They're just as nervous as you are, and very few of them have met before. This is the first big dinner we've had together in over a year."

Relax. How could she when she could see how beautiful some of the women were? They were younger than she was, by some years from what she had been able to make out. But there were others who came closer to her age and at least one woman who had an entire head of silver grey hair as her crowning glory.

"No one here is going to bite you, or say something to put you down, Moira. You have to believe that." He tightened his grip into her hair for a moment, her back arching with the sudden grasp, then released it again before anyone else noticed what he was doing. "You feel out of place."

"Yes. I do." She nodded slightly. "I just--there are so many who look better than I. I cannot imagine what you see in me, especially dressed like this."

"You look beautiful to me, my love."

"I don't feel it." She whispered, her stomach knotting. "I feel like a slut, a woman forced into clothing meant for a woman half my years. I wish I could go home, or put on a pant suit, something that would cover me a little better."

"When will you learn that you are beautiful to me? You always have been. This dress shows off a figure you want to deny. Besides, I don't want some young thing on my arm, one who has yet to truly learn what she wants in life. Ah, I don't doubt she'd look well there, and there are some who would know even at the age of twenty or so who know where they belong, but for the most part they are still uncertain of their path in life. They make so many wrong decisions then wonder who to blame for them." He smiled as he spoke, but there was an edge of hardness about his eyes, a hint of sorrow in their soft gaze. He seemed almost on the verge of saying something else and then shook his head, his lips pressed into a tight, thin line.

"Have I done something wrong?" Her heart sank into the pit of her stomach. She knew that look, knew it and feared what he would say next. The last thing she'd meant to do was upset him.

"You know I have told you to never put yourself down, so why is it you disobeyed me in this?" His voice dropped into a cold, low whisper, the slight nod informing her that he'd made a decision. "Is it because we're out in public and you think that I have no choice but to let it slide?"

She paled instantly. She hadn't even thought of his command when she'd spoken. But surely he wouldn't push things now, not when there were others around? It wasn't as though he could pull her across his lap and spank her here and now, was it? No, he wouldn't do that, it could cost him his job. "I don't know, Sir. I don't think I was thinking it through, not truly. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"I see. Well I cannot let this matter go. You've disobeyed me, and publicly so. That will not do." He tapped his hands on his lap and then held out one hand to her his gaze firm. "Come with me."

Nervously she took his hand and let him lead her through the house. He stopped for a moment to ask the hostess of the party, a woman barely out of her twenties, for directions to a room where he could talk privately to Moira. Then, once the door was closed behind them in a small bedroom, he turned and looked at Moira.

"I'm very disappointed in you." He shook his head and looked about the room, then pulled out a chair and sat down on it. "Up, over my lap now, Moira."

"What?" She blinked, staring at him. Her stomach knotted into a dozen evil snakes that seemed determined to make her life a living hell. "Here? Now? But can't this wait until we get home? I mean--please, Sir, don't. Someone might hear us. I don't think I can do this. Please. We can discuss this at home. I didn't mean to upset you, or disappoint you."

"Yes, we're dealing with this here and now. Trying to change my mind isn't going to work. You should know by now that I'm not the type of man to step back once I've made a decision. Now, remove your panties and place yourself over my lap." His tone dropped into a low whisper, his gaze narrowed as he looked down at her. "Must you bring down further troubles on yourself? Do you wish this to be harder than it needs to be?"

She shook her head, trembling more than a little. Her hands clenched in front of her lap as she looked up at him. She wanted to try and make things right by obeying him, but to be put through such a thing when there were others around? How could he even think of doing this to her? If someone heard what was going on then they'd walk into the room and see him spanking her. How could she live with that?

Because he had the right to, she'd given him that right in accepting the way he had wanted their relationship to be. He'd never hidden the fact that he expected her to follow the rules he laid down for the household, and even though they were at the early stages of their relationship she knew if she wanted this to work she had to follow through. And that meant accepting the spanking.

Slowly she walked toward him, shaking as she skimmed down her panties and became aware of a dozen sets of gazes that turned her way. Heat flushed across her cheeks, her heart raced, pounding against her rib cage. A part of her wanted to find the courage to go through this with some level of dignity, but she already knew that she'd not be able to complete the punishment silently.

Moira flashed one last, pleading look in his direction, but to no avail.

"Remove your shoes and place yourself over my lap, now."

Silently she slipped out of the hated heels and laid herself over his lap, her breath catching in the back of her throat. Her hair tumbled over her face, half blinding her view, her breasts pressed tightly against the dress and she kept silent as he pulled her dress, baring her ass completely to his view.

"You've been told, do not put yourself down. Not in my hearing, not in writing, not in any way, shape or form. I have chosen you, I want you to be a part of my life and you've accepted me. So, now you will learn to accept my rules. Is that clear?" He rested one hand in the small of her back, holding her steady over his lap.

"Yes, Sir." She barely kept the whimper out of her voice, though she knew he would sense her fear.

"And this is the second time you've disobeyed me today, the shoes were the first. You should have been wearing them when I arrived. I have to believe you wanted to earn a punishment, perhaps you thought it would distract me from the idea of the party, or you hoped, secretly, it would give me a reason to spank you before we even left?"

"No. Please. It wasn't like that." Her voice trembled. "I'm so used to being barefoot at home that I didn't think to have them on."

"Yet, you know it was my express wish that you were to be wearing them when I arrived." He brushed his free hand over her bare buttocks. She tensed under the light touch, tiny hairs rising on the back of her neck, her thighs pressed together, trying to hide her sex from the view of those around them. Heat flushed across her face, rushing down her neck and across the curves of her breasts. She tried to hide how she reacted to his touch, but even though she knew what was to happen was to correct her behavior her core tightened, heated cream building between her thighs at the thought that this man would care so much for her that he would risk them being caught in order to bring her back into focus and discipline her when she stepped out of line.

"Let me make it up to you."

"You can, by accepting this punishment without further attempts to persuade me to change my mind."

She swallowed hard and nodded, strands of her own hair catching across her lips. "Yes, Sir."

He lifted up his hand away from her bare buttocks, and then slapped it down hard and fast against her bare skin. She yelped, kicking out from the force of the blow. When the second slap landed she cried out, lifting her head up, shock playing through her body. She tried to close her thighs again.

"Focus and think only on what I am doing to you. You know how I expect you to behave when I'm spanking you, don't you?"

Easier said than done, still she nodded and tried to speak, but her words came out as an unintelligible whimper. Moira pressed her toes down on the floor and lifted up her bottom as she tried to offer her bare buttocks for his hand. Silently she crossed her hands in the small of her back, desperate to now prove she could accept his touch, even if it meant being spanked as punishment.

She didn't look up, instead she kept her head lowered, her bottom lifted up for him as she waited for the next blow to fall. A sense of calm flooded through her body, her heart rate eased, but the heat between her thighs slowly grew until she could no longer deny the mix of pain and pleasure that rippled through her body at the next swat that slapped loudly against her bare bottom. Heat followed the sharp crack of pain, her breath knocked from her body in a low gasp.

Tears caught on her lashes as she struggled not to give into the urge to scream, to beg for mercy, or simply sob in helpless shame and pain. It was just a spanking, yet it hurt far more than she could explain. Her hips jerked with each new, sharp slap that landed on her upturned buttocks.

"You will learn to obey my rules, Moira. Is that clear?" He lifted up his hand from her bottom, waiting for her reply. "The warm up is done. Start counting."

"Yes." She barely had chance to utter the words before his hand landed with a sharp crack against her backside. She gasped, a long rock worked through her hips as she pressed against his thigh. A low whimper rang out from the back of her throat and her hands tightened into fists as she struggled to hold position over his lap. She wasn't sure just how many times she'd feel his hand against her ass tonight, but even with the pain she couldn't deny the warmth that coated her inner walls. "One, Sir."

She yelped, squirming with the next crack that landed on her bottom. Moira whimpered, trying to fight the growing heat within her being. "Two, Sir."

"You'll learn not to disobey me, my love." He brushed his fingertips over her heated flesh. "You can make me so proud of you at times, then you do something like this and I wonder if you really want to walk this path with me after all?"

She paled, tears seeping down her cheeks. A knot settled in her throat even as she lifted her hips to offer herself for another smack. Strength. He had such a strength that she could do no more than accept him, welcome his touch and remember just how being with him made her feel.

The next crack of hand against her ass almost lifted her up from his lap. She cried out, sobbing, her thighs trembling as she tried to press herself back into place across his lap. A low whimper in her voice as her words shook and she managed to get the words out. "Three, Sir."

The others beyond the room faded away. They didn't exist. There was only Carl and his hand, the warmth that she couldn't ignore and in all honesty she no longer wanted to even try to shut out.

She was barely aware of his hand lifting away from her body before it landed on her bottom again. The sharp sound registering in her mind as she sobbed, writhing across his lap, her thighs parting for a brief moment, the words tear filled. "Four, Sir."

"Two more, my darling, and then the matter will be over and done with."

Moira nodded, swallowing hard as she pressed her legs together again, pushed her toes against the floor and lifted her buttocks up for his touch. She no longer even tried to lift up her head, or cared that her hair had spilled over her face, or that her face was streaked with tears. She focused only on Carl, his hand, his strength, and the feeling that rippled through her being with each slap against her bottom.

He traced his fingertips over her red backside, then lifted up his hand and slapped it down hard and fast on her buttocks. She cried out, her hips rocking, legs scissoring as heat and pain washed through her body. "Five, Sir!"

One more. Just one more and it would be over.

He slid his free hand into her hair, tangling his fingers into the long length as he pulled her head up, her back arched tight. "I do not expect to have to remind you about this again, my love." He didn't even give her a chance to think, or respond before the last blow landed against her buttocks, harder than any of the previous blows.

Moira screamed in pain, her lips parting in a soft O, her breath burned in her lungs, throat semi closed refusing to work as she tried to get the better of her body. Just how long it took before she was able to speak she wasn't sure, but finally, her helpless form still held in a tight bow over his lap, the words stammered from her lips. "Six, Sir."

The grip on her hair eased, letting her relax over his lap, and only then did she remember the others beyond the room. Heat flushed over her face, her stomach knotted as shame took control of her body, what if someone had heard her cry out?

She tensed expecting to see someone come storming into the room, demanding to know what was going on, but nothing happened.

"You did well, Moira." He pressed one hand against her stinging bottom. "Very well indeed. I'm proud of you." Carl helped her to move carefully from his lap, back onto her feet at the side of his chair.

Moira didn't dare look at him, not even when she heard him stand up and then felt his hand smooth over her hair. She swallowed hard, leaning into his touch, trying to come to terms with the mixture of emotions that fought within her heart. She belonged with him, over his lap his lap if need be, but could she face many more episodes like this?

She loved the fact he was strong enough to correct her regardless of the circumstances, but being spanked, as a punishment, with strangers close enough to hear what was going on, was something that left her uncertain. What if he decided to end their relationship because of her misdeeds?

His hand tightened in her hair, a low whispered, growl of a word ringing in her ears. "Mine."

Doubt fled at that single word, her heart missed a beat as she looked into his eyes. Her answer one that came without thought, spilled from her heart, mind and soul alike. "Yes, Sir."


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