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Thursday, August 15, 2013
The Cannery - Part 2 (F/M, tawse)
My heart raced as I looked around. No escape. I tried the door frantically but it was locked. Sweat poured down my face as I had a panic attack. I couldn't move, could barely breathe. I couldn't even think of what to do. No matter. There really wasn't anywhere to go anyway. The stockroom had a few shelves with canned goods but nothing to really hide from. I stood there marking time as I awaited Mrs. Booker.
It seemed like forever but probably just a minute or so as I heard a key in the door. My insides churned and I felt that funny feeling between my legs when you know you're dead. I had a momentary vision of that strap whistling through the air and the loud crack it landed on Jessica's ass. Soon that would be me.
The door clicked open and it swung aside. I was almost tearing up actually. It's embarrassing to think about it now but at the time I was really afraid of this lady. When she clicked on the light she looked at me with a harsh glare.
"Oh so peeping Tom I see. Well you're going to get it now." Her voice was raspy and low. She roughly grabbed my arm and jerked me out the door. I stumbled beside her mumbling apologies and excuses. I was just getting soup cans...the door was unlocked...I heard something. She brushed those off and told me what a sick pervert I was and how now I was going to "get it good". I hardly resisted as I was weak from fear and shame.
It was shocking how strong her grip was. I don't think I could have gotten away even if I tried. She wasn't even really bigger than me being the wiry type. But she had been working here for years and they haven't been kind years. Years of ordering people around gave her voice an authority that brooked no dissension. Soon enough we were back in the punishment room and my panic renewed.
I felt like a little boy being dragged home by his mother instead of a college student as she roughly threw me in front of her.
"Since you're so interested in what goes on in here you're going to get the same. Strip," she barked out.
"Now just a moment.." I desperately tried to regain my composure. I was an adult! Let's talk about things I thought. Her hand smacked across my face, stifling my thoughts. "Wait.." I backed up, hands up protecting my face.
"Shut the hell up!" she barked. "I'm not listening to any of your crap, ya hear?" She smacked me again and advanced on me as I continued to back up. Well of course soon I was in the corner with her very close to me. Each of her sentences was followed by another smack. "You're gonna get your ass blistered. You think you're a smart college kid? I'm gonna teach you something." She roughly grabbed my hair and dragged me back to the center of the room.
At this point I was defeated. My face was stinging from the slaps. My ears hurt from being boxed. My one attempt at regaining my composure had been embarrassingly put down in a matter of seconds and I just wanted to get out of there. At the same time I knew it wasn't going to happen until I got my punishment.
With her glaring at me I slowly lowered my pants. Shoes came off next as the pants got tangled up. Mrs. Booker yanked down my underwear and I half protested, half resisted. That got me another ear ringing smack. "Shirt off" she growled. I complied.
Now I was naked in front of her, hands covering my front as I cringed. My penis had shrivelled down to a little stub but I still felt horribly exposed. I had zero dignity. Here I was standing naked in front of Mrs. Booker while she glared at me and regripped the tawse no doubt slavering over the fact that she had another ass to whip.
She grabbed my arm again in her vicelike grip and propelled me to the wall where that, that *contraption* was installed. I learned later it was called a trestle, made solely for purpose of restraining a person while they were punished. Before I knew it I was securely fastened. Hands up against the wall, ass forced out by the bar, feet wide and ankles fastened to the spreader. My penis dangled helplessly between my legs, as tiny as could be. I felt a jolt of panic when she rudely grabbed my penis. Apparently she put a bag or something over it and pulled the drawstrings tight.
In my helpless state, I could only stand there, waiting. "Mrs. Booker please..." I held out some hope of begging my way out of this but the answer was a vicious stripe across my ass. "Aaahh!!" I gasped. Behind me Mrs. Booker chuckled. "So how's that for a start," she said. She didn't wait for a reply but reared back and gave me another stroke. I gasped and tried not to cry out. I had my pride. I tried to wiggle but the waist strap didn't leave much room, not to mention my feet were secured. Another crack. Followed by another. Sweat broke out all over me as the pain increased. My gasps were getting louder. Soon I was desperately wiggling, trying to save my ass from the onslaught. But her aim was true. 10, 20, 30. The strokes mounted and I was crying now. Pride was gone. I started begging, "please. please stop". I could barely speak as I was constantly gasping for breath with each stroke. Tears streamed down my face. I'm not sure when or how many strokes I got but my ass on was fire and I had snot and tears running down my face when she stopped. I could only hang my head in exhaustion as I stood there. Behind me I heard her breathing a little heavily and walking about. I wasn't sure what she was doing but as long as the strapping stopped I didn't care.
At some point I felt her unfasten me from the wall. I was busy trying to rub the tears out of my eyes and the snot off my face when I was yanked to the center of the room and my hands secured to a rope hanging from the ceiling. Going to the side she pulled the rope until I was standing straight up with my hands above my head. "Please Mrs. Booker. I've had enough," I begged. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again." I was like a little boy again begging my mom not to punish me. "Oh I'm going to teach you not to peep again, believe me," she replied without looking at me. She got the spreader bar and refastened my ankles. Now I could barely move about on my toes as the spread position made it harder to reach the ground with my feet. "Pleeease," I begged. Ignoring me, Mrs. Booker strode out of the room. I heard the door slam.
A short while later I heard the door open. I stiffened up in apprehension. Did I hear two people? Then Mrs. Booker appeared in my vision and next to her was ... Jessica! I cringed in embarrassment. She looked at me with stoic eyes. Evidently Mrs. Booker had told her what I did. Of course she was fresh from her punishment and I could see her eyes were red. But I could see in her eyes too some anger. Anger and embarrassment about me spying on her punishment. Well turnabout is fair play as they say and the corners of her mouth lifted in satisfaction as her eyes took in my state.
Mrs. Booker pushed her daughter back a few steps and then stepped behind me. The humiliation I felt earlier when first standing in front of Mrs. Booker flared anew as I saw Jessica enjoying my predicament. She didn't say a word but leaned back against the wall getting comfortable. Sweat broke out across my forehead as I tried to glance back to see what Mrs. Booker was doing but even without seeing anything I knew what was coming.
There was a hiss and a crack as the strap walloped my ass again. "Owww!" Tears sprang in my eyes again as my already sensitive ass was set afire. Crack! Another stripe. Through my tears I saw Jessica watching me, rubbing her bottom in sympathy. But she still had a satisfied look on her face.