t’s not a real spanking until it really starts to hurt.
It has been far too long since you felt the sting of my hand across your bottom. I rather think you get away lightly when I spank you. Perhaps it is time for you to feel the full weight of my palm baring down on you?
Stripped off his clothes and dignity, my sub stands before me with his hands on his head. A cold glare from me tells him precisely what mood I am in. I can sense his anticipation through the silent air between us. Nervously, he responds to my questions and instructions. When required to place himself over my knee, he does precisely as he is told. Lay there, naked and humbled, the soft material of my pencil skirt separating him from me by only a fraction, he feels the warmth of my body heat perfectly juxtaposed with the coldness of my tone.
The spanking begins. No warm up. No gentle encouraging strokes to guide him in. No such luck for him. Straight to the point as my right hand makes contact with his bare bottom with the most crisp slapping sound. Echoing through the school room, he is spanked with such ferocity that he bottom turns red almost instantly. Thr pace quickens and my determination deepens. His backside will be a magnificent shade of red by the time I am through. Pausing only briefly so the sting of the next stroke is felt more thoroughly, I offer him no mercy.
Spanked relentlessly for over eight minutes. And the worst is yet to come.
Splendid British Discipline in all it’s glory. A completely uncut scene from a real time session with my owned and collared submissive.