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Subject: NEW: Loving Correction (M/F,spk,humil,cons)
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**Warning:  This story contains spanking themes of an adult nature.  If you are
under 18, are offended my such material or this material is illegal in your
jurisdiction, DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER!**

A LOVING CORRECTION (M/F, spk, humil, cons)

Ruth recounts her latest adventure:

I can't stop thinking about what happened last week.  I know I need to tell Sir
what I did, but I don't want to...if I do, he'll punish me again.  But if I
don't tell him, then he'll punish me for not confessing promptly. And he'll
still punish me for what I did.   Or maybe he won't think it was naughty at
all.  Sometimes he surprises me, and says something like "Oh, that's not the
end of the world", after I'd finally worked up the courage to confess whatever
it was I thought I had done wrong.  But this time, I haven't confessed at all,
let alone promptly.  And I know I'll be punished for that, even if Sir doesn't
think what I did was naughty.  Why do I get myself into these situations?  If
I'd just asked for his permission in the first place,  I could have avoided the
whole mess.  But I was afraid he would say I couldn't go.  And then what would
I tell my friends?  I wish I'd already confessed and this was already over
with!  I can't stand the guilt.  I have to call him.  Maybe I'll have a cup of
coffee first.  I know I can't keep putting this off...the guilt is worse than
my fear of being punished.

With trembling hands, I reach for the phone.  I hope he's there!  I hope I can
go see him now!  I need to get this over with before I change my mind and
pretend I don't have anything to confess!  The voice mail answers, and I hear
his voice calmly telling me that he's not available at the moment.  Taking a
deep breath, I leave a message.

 "Hi, Sir, it's Ruth.  I...I hope you've been well.  If you...if you're not too
busy, I, um, I need to see you, Sir.  Thank you.  Bye." 

***************

When I get the message, I lean back in my large leather chair and stare up at
the ceiling, contemplating the nuances of your message.  I know your voice and
how you speak.  Something in your message tells me there's something you want
to get off your chest.

In my smooth, even broadcasting voice, I leave my message on your answering
machine: "Good morning, Ruth.  I'm returning your call from earlier this
morning.  It seems you have something you want to tell me.  I suspect you've
been naughty again.  I just want you to know that I expect you to come clean
with me and tell me the truth...the whole truth, without all the unnecessary
prodding I've had to do in the past.  I want you to call me back as soon as
possible...in any event, before noon.  I'll be here waiting, my Sweetheart."
Click.

************

Intuitively, I know it's you on the phone.  I panic!  I changed my mind!!!  I'm
not ready to confess to you yet!!!  On the fourth ring your call goes to my
answering machine.

After a good twenty minutes of internal debate,  I'm able to call you back.
Naturally, you answer on the first ring, giving me no opportunity to change my
mind again.  

"Hi, Sir.  You...you're right, I do want to tell you about something.  Can I
come see you?
I...I do understand that I need to tell you the whole truth, Sir, and I will.
Who, What, When, Where, Why, and How..." 

**************

"Good morning, Ruth.  I detected in your voice that there was an important
matter we have to discuss.  Now listen carefully.  You will report to me at
1:00 p.m. sharp.  Right now, I want you to go into the bathroom, remove your
panties and slip them into your handbag.  Get your hairbrush, the natural maple
one with the straight handle and place that into your handbag as well.  I'll
see you at one, young lady."  Click.

***************

My head is spinning...that happened so fast I didn't get a chance to say
anything!  I don't want to be spanked with my hairbrush!!!  I don't want to be
spanked at all!  And 1:00 p.m. is just a few hours away. Oh!  I wish I'd never
made that call.  I slowly walk into the bathroom to remove my panties as He has
instructed me.

***************

As I wait for you in my study, I think about what you will be wearing when you
report to me.  Probably something slightly provocative to try to soften me up
so I won't spank you.  But you know I never change my mind when punishment is
due.  I arrange my study so I'm prepared when you walk in.  I don't want to
waste any time, nor do I want to leave anything to chance.

***************

I know it's time to leave for my meeting with you...I don't want to be late,
but I'm afraid to walk out the door.  Oh, no, I'm already late!  Now I won't
have time to change my clothes. When you see my cotton sundress, you'll know I
spent the morning at the pool instead of working.

****************

I hear the door open, and I straighten up in my chair, turning to squarely face
the door.  I hear the soft footfalls as you come down the hallway, and I see
your shadow before I see you.

You center yourself in the doorway as you've been taught, and ask permission to
enter.  Without speaking, I wave you in.  You take two steps into the study,
and curtsey to me in proper fashion.  You remove your sandals and stand in
front of my desk.  I come around and take your handbag and sandals and place
them on the end table in the corner.  I come back to you and ask you if you are
wearing any panties.  "No, Sir," you say.  I reach down and take the hem of the
sundress and lift it up above your waist.  I see your pussy and bare hips,
happy to see you've obeyed my instructions.  

"Hold your dress up above your waist while we discuss your latest behavior. Now
please sit down, honey."

You gather up your sundress and sit your bare buns down on the cool leather of
the chair.  You are uncomfortable sitting there exposed in front of me like
that, and you can't decide whether or not to cross your legs.

"Shall we begin, Ruth?"

****************

Your words send a shiver down my spine. I feel embarrassed being so exposed to
you, and I cross my legs at the ankles and try to get comfortable on your
stupid leather chair.  Aaack!  I'm already sticking to the seat. I wish you had
cloth upholstery.  I wish you hadn't made me lift up my dress.  I sigh deeply,
knowing that my humiliation is just beginning.  I look across the desk at you.
You're sitting there calmly waiting for me to begin. I wonder how you manage to
look so kind and so stern at the same time.

"Sir, thank you for the taking the time to see me.  I...I know how busy you
are, Sir."

You nod your head slightly in acknowledgment, but don't speak.  I realize you
probably think I'm stalling.  Maybe I am, but I really do feel grateful to you.
 I know how much I need, OK, want, this session with you.  With another sigh, I
begin.

"Sir, I'm afraid you're going to be upset with me because of what I did last
week.  Did you know that my friend Marcie is getting married to Jack at the end
of the month?  Well she is, so we decided to give her a, um, a shower.  We
wanted to make it special for her, especially since Jack's friends kept
bragging about what a great bachelor party they were planning.  There were
eight of us, and we decided to rent a limo and go into the city to a nightclub.
 Angie made all the arrangements.  We even had front row seats for the show!"

I pause for a moment, wondering if I really need to tell you anything else.
Who, what, when, where, why, how...just a little bit more should qualify as the
whole truth.

"You probably want to know who I was with, Sir.  It was Marcie, Angie, Kathy,
Sarah, Linda, Sherri, and Karen.  You also probably want to know exactly when
it was, Sir.  It was last week, on the night of the new moon." 

I pause again.  Yes, I really do think I told you the whole truth.  And it was
much easier than I thought it would be.  Maybe you'll decide this wasn't such a
big deal.

"Sir, I'm sorry I didn't ask for permission before going out like that.  I hope
you're not mad at me, Sir..."

****************

"Well, Ruth, thank you for telling me about this incident.  You know, I did
hear something of this, and I was going to look into it further.  I was
wondering how long it would take until you told me."

I watch as you squirm on the leather chair, knowing it's reached your body
temperature, and no longer feels cool on your bare bottom.

"Uncross your legs and sit still," I command.  You do so, keeping your legs
tightly together to try to hide your sex from me.   But I can still see some
pubic hair peeking out at the junction of your inner thighs.

"What were you thinking of when you decided to pull this latest stunt?" I ask,
as I steeple my fingers and place them under my chin, looking directly into
your eyes. "Didn't you know what the consequences would be?  Didn't you learn
your lessons from your last few spankings?"

****************

"I...I'm sorry, Sir," I reply softly.  "I guess I wasn't thinking about the
consequences.  I just wanted to have fun.  And yes, Sir, I learned my lessons
from my last spankings, it's just that..."

My voice trails off as I remember my last spanking, and I start to squirm
again.  I try to sit still but I can't.  To my embarrassment, I realize I'm
already becoming aroused.  I try to ignore it and hope it will go away, and
OMIGOSH I'm getting wet...I'm going to stain your stupid leather chair!  I look
back up at you and notice your amused smirk.  I can't just sit here!   As I
slowly stand up your expression changes to disbelief.  I don't think I've ever
seen you look so surprised, and I have to choke back an inappropriate giggle.

Before you have a chance to react, I drop to my knees and spread my legs apart
as I've been taught.  I gather up the skirt of my sundress and keep it raised
as I hold my hands behind my back.  I can only hope that my submissive position
will make up for my disobedience...  

Ohshitohshitohshit...why didn't I just stay in the stupid chair!
 
I really wish I'd confessed everything sooner...actually I wish I'd been able
to ask you for a spanking before I'd done anything wrong.  I know I wouldn't be
here now if I had...something seems to go wrong inside of me...something that
when you spank me it goes away. As I try to sort out my thoughts,  you begin to
speak...

****************

"WHAT IN HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, YOUNG LADY??!!  Who told you to move?
Hmmm????"

I look at you with fire in my eyes, rolling your audacity to defy me around in
my mind in a split second.  

"I suppose you think that assuming your submissive position will cause me to
ignore your breach of discipline?  I know exactly what you just did.  You're
trying to test me to see if I still have the iron will you've come to expect.
You will soon see that I do!

"Now that you're in your alternate position, you are to remain perfectly
still,"  I say as I arise quickly from behind my desk and walk over to the
closet.  I retrieve my thick wooden yardstick and come over to face you in
front.  

I survey your bare hips and spread legs.  I glance to the side and observe that
your perspiration has evaporated from the leather seat of the chair, but that a
small whitish spot remains...right where your pussy was pressed into it.

"You seem to be enjoying this, Ruth Ann.  You won't much longer," I tell you.
"You know I'm not angry with you for merely going out with the girls.  It's
what you do that's shameful and must be addressed.  Now, going to a female
bachelor party is suspect behavior, even with a bunch of female friends.  But
you haven't mentioned a word of what went on there, what your involvement was.
By your tone, I know you feel guilty about something and you're trying to
assuage that guilt by telling me only part of the story.  Now, I want the
entire story, Ruth.  And it had better be complete.  You know I'll
verify it later,"  I conclude.

I punctuate my last remark with a swift CRACCKK!! of the yardstick on your
protruding buttocks, leaving a red stripe across both cheeks.  You flinch, but
snap back to your ordered position quickly.

"I'm waiting!"

***************

Hunh?  But I told you the 'whole truth' and you didn't ask me any questions...I
thought I wasn't going to have to tell you anything else!  And who told you it
was a bachelor party?  
I know I called it a shower.  Oh, no!  Do you already know where we went?

Ohhh, that hurt!  I try to hold my position so you won't smack me again as I
try desperately to think of  something to say that won't get me in more
trouble.  Nothing.  There is nothing I can say that isn't going to make things
worse.  You always know when I try to lie to you, but maybe it's worth a
try...I know you won't like the truth.  
 
I look up at you and then back down to the floor.  

"I...I'm sorry, Sir, really I am.  I...I..."

I wish I could lie to you.

"I have been feeling guilty Sir, but that's because I put off telling you.  I
know I'm supposed to confess promptly, but I didn't because I was afraid you
would spank me again.  But the longer I waited, the more guilty I felt, and the
more guilty I felt, the more afraid of the spanking I became."

I wonder how long I can keep talking like this.  I look back up and to my
horror see you lifting the yardstick and then CRACCKK!! you leave a matching
red stripe on my bare cheeks about an inch below the first.  

"OWwww! I'm sorry, Sir!  I'll tell you everything!"

I honestly don't know why I try to outsmart you...it never works, and I always
get spanked for it.  I take a deep breath and...finally...finish my confession.

"My involvement in Marcie's *shower* wasn't anything special, Sir.  As I told
you, Angie made all the arrangements.  She has connections.  We all chipped in
to pay for the limo and the club and the champagne.  Um, I guess I might have
forgotten to mention that we were drinking champagne.  Actually, that's the
main reason we decided on the limo."

I pause and sneak a glance at you.  I don't have a clue what you're thinking.
I wonder if you play poker.

"I know you also wanted to know what went on there, Sir. We didn't do anything
wrong.  We just enjoyed the show, Sir, and drank some more champagne.  That's
it, Sir, just enjoyed the show and drank champagne." 
 
Well, that wasn't so bad.  I answered all your questions and told you
everything you need to know. 

****************

"And what was the "show" like?  Hmmmm?  A show at a "shower"?  You know I can
elicit the truth by your reactions to certain things I say.  Of course I know
it wasn't a bachelor party...but it may as well have been, right Ruth?"

"You're always right, Sir."  

"The show was very enjoyable, Sir, but it wasn't really a show at a shower as
much as it was a shower at a show."  

"And what is THAT supposed to mean, young lady??"  THWAAACKKK!!!

"Let's not play the usual games, hmmm??  I want all the details, and I haven't
got all day.  Understand?!"  THWAAACKKK!!!

"Owwwww, Sirrrrrrrr, that reaallly hurts!!" I whine while glaring at you.  "And
it means what it means.  We had a shower for Marcie and there was a show where
we had it." 
 
"YEOWWWW!!!!"  The last stroke causes me to let go of my dress and rub my
flaming bottom.  Ohhh....I don't know why I do this.  I know I'm going to
submit to you....I want to submit to you....but I can't until I know there's no
other choice.

Still rubbing my bottom, I begin to speak in a trembling voice, "Please don't
spank me anymore, Sir.  I'll tell you what you want to know..."

I break off in mid-sentence when I remember I'm not allowed to rub my bottom
without permission.  I  quickly pull my dress up, put my hands behind my back,
and slowly resume my confession.

"We...we had the shower at a place where they have a show of, um, of dancers,
Sir.  They had costumes and it was, um, fun to watch."  

That sounds lame, even to me.  I can't think of a good way to explain it to
you.  I know you're going to think I'm naughty and then you're going to spank
me some more and I think I'm going  to cry because I don't want you to think
I'm naughty.

 "The dancers were all, um, they were all men, Sir, and..."  

I can't say it.  Oh shit, I have to say it.  

"Sir, they were strippers.  They came out dressed as cowboys and firemen, and
then they danced and took off their costumes, and...and...please don't think
I'm naughty, Sir!"

As I kneel before you, I can feel the tears in my eyes.  I look up at you and
blink, sending a tear down my cheek and, I hope, into your heart.
 
****************
"I just knew it, Ruth!  First you try to conceal the event from me, then you
try to tell me only part of the truth.  And now you're STILL holding back!
Haven't I taught you anything yet?"

I look at you, ignoring your tears, knowing you're just feeling sorry for
yourself.  I swear I'm going to have to start administering maintenance
spankings to keep you from going this far ever again.

"Stop your blubbering and finish telling me.  How many men did you touch?  How
many touched you?  How many dollar bills did you put into their G-strings?
Where did you go afterwards and with whom?" I interrogate, punctuating each
question with a smack from the yard stick.  "I'm tired of your stalling.  If
you don't tell me right now, your interrogation will be accelerated.  Do you
understand me??"

*****************

"You've taught me many things, Sir!" I reply as I burst into tears. "I'm
sorrreeee, Sir!!  Please don't spank me hard this time!!!"  

I glare at you through my tears.  You don't have to be so mean about it!  Why
do you have to know *everything*??  I already told you way more than I wanted
to!  And how the hell do you know how male strippers are tipped???  And why do
you think I went anywhere but home with my friends afterwards???  Do you really
think I would go off with one of those scummy guys that hang out in the parking
lot???

In a flat monotone, I answer your questions.
  
"I didn't touch anyone, Sir, and no one touched me."  You know so much, how
come you don't know touching isn't allowed?

"I spent a few dollars, Sir, but I'm not sure how much.  Afterwards, I left
with my friends and went home."  I glare at you and add, "Alone."  

"And I understand that you expect me to answer all of your questions."  Ooops.

"Sir."  

"Thank you for those details, Ruth.  I've already talked to my friend Randy,
and it seems he was dancing that night.  He pretty much verified what you just
told me.  I wanted to hear it from you, that's all," I reveal at last.
 
I put away the yard stick and continue your scolding, covering points about
going out to places where the temptation to misbehave is great, not telling me
immediately, etc.  I sense you are done with all your confessing.  It's time to
proceed.

***************

Randy?  Which one was Randy?    
 
I watch you put away the yard stick, relieved that my punishment is finished.
I listen to you lecture me and I decide I really am sorry for my behavior.  I
just want to be a good girl and make you happy.  I wish you'd stop scolding
me...I want you to hug me now and tell me you forgive me.  The scolding goes on
and on, until  finally I realize my punishment is just beginning.

After a few minutes, I stop paying attention to what you're saying.  I know
what I did, I know why it was wrong, yada yada yada.  You seem to think I won't
understand unless you say the same thing over and over again.  Well, maybe you
had to keep smacking me with your yardstick before I told you everything, but
that doesn't mean I didn't understand what was happening.  Ohhhh, my bottom
still hurts.  I wonder if your yardstick is an antique...I've never seen one
that thick before.

"DON'T YOU AGREE, YOUNG LADY?" your voice booms out at me.

"Yes, Sir", I reply meekly.
 
Satisfied with my answer, you resume scolding me.

I suppose I should worry about whatever it is I just agreed to, but at this
point it really doesn't matter.  I know you're going to punish me, and I know
I'll agree to whatever you decide is necessary.  I just wish you'd hurry up and
get it over with...I don't want you to be mad at me anymore.  

"WELL, RUTH ANN, WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF?" 

I look up at you, and then look away before replying.  

"I'm sorry I was so naughty, Sir, and I know I deserve correction.  Please
spank me, Sir."  
 
****************
(Concluded in Part 2.)


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