Temper
Copyright 1997-2002 by OldTom, all rights reserved.

He knew she had a temper. She never did lose it with him. He wondered what the event might be like.

The moment Leslie lost her temper, her two friends knew this was serious. They saw him eye the belt with that look. Diane had herself been spanked for real with the belt, but only once. She had seen to it that there would never need to be a second time, ever. Barbara, too, knew the belt to be a very serious instrument.

And they could see he was serious.

Leslie had balked not in her usual fashion of folding her arms and proclaiming "NO!" That would have been easier to handle. No, she had to provide him his first experience with flying objects.

He turned from her, now ignoring her, the determined look on his face showing the punishment to be inevitable.

"Barbara, I've heard you are a 'natural' with the cane. Do you have one available?" They all knew Leslie feared the cane above all other instruments.

"Yes, I do. Would you like to borrow it? I would suggest you practice first to get the hang of it, or choose some other item, though."

"I was wondering if I could impose upon you to deliver six of the best. If you're willing to do me the favor, I'll describe exactly what I have in mind."

Leslie stopped, stunned, steaming. He was asking someone else to punish her? With a cane, no less?

Barbara knew a game when she saw one, and helped him play it out. "What do you have in mind?"

"I'd like you to give her a proper caning for me, as fair warning. I will not be humiliated in front of my friends. You would be doing her a favor to make the strokes as serious as you possibly can. Because if I have to take action, I will follow through with a full twenty minutes with my belt. And I think you know how significant an event that can be in a woman's life.

"If you don't mind, I would prefer that you take her in the other room, so that you can handle things without interference. And when you are done, please allow her to return the cane to me personally."

Leslie folded her arms and announced, "No." It was clear she wasn't kidding; this was not a mere formality. This was one of those times No means No.

He asked, "Would you care to explain? Are you saying you'd rather spend the twenty minutes with my belt?"

Leslie paused. She decided to show she really meant it. "Yes. I'd rather deal with your belt, than be caned by her." She stood there defiant, and more than a little bit scared.

"If you're serious, bring me the belt, and then ask me for such a punishment. Otherwise we'll continue where we left off."

Once a decision is made, it's made. Leslie brought him the belt, stood still before him, hesitated, and then asked, "Sir, will you please punish me with your belt, rather than make me take a caning?"

"Leslie, this is not a bargaining time. Leave the cane out of this. And make clear you understand how severely you intend me to use this belt, and how well you will cooperate with your punishment."

"Sir, please punish me with your belt, for at least twenty minutes. Please be as tough on me as you think I deserve. I will take it as best I can, even though you know I can't lay still for something like that. If you would tie my hands first, I would take it as a favor, but of course that is up to you.

"Did I say this clearly enough, sir?"

"Yes. Bring the cord; I will be glad to tie your hands for you."

"Thank you, sir."

Her overalls removed, he bound her hands, and allowed her to place herself across his lap. Checking his watch, he laid on the first stroke full force.

Ten minutes passed in this manner. She pleaded for the chance to promise anything he wished, pleaded for him to just stop. She cried and cried, knowing it was far from over, and knowing she could do nothing but plead and beg anyway.

He paused. "When I'm done, do you think you'll be ready to do just about anything I ask?"

"Oh, yes! Anything at all! Pleeeease..."

"Good. In just ten minutes, you'll have your chance."

The second ten minutes passed as the first. And suddenly it was over.

"Leslie, stand up.... Look at me."

Somehow this seemed the hardest part. But she did look at him, the pain still etched into her face, tears still pouring down her cheeks, hands still tied as she worked at the worst of the ravages to her mascara.

He untied her wrists, and then inquired, "Are you now ready to do as I ask?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Ask Barbara for six of the best, on the bare, in the other room."

Leslie stared in horror, but in less than complete surprise. She continued to stare at him, hoping against hope to find a way out of this.

But this lesson was one she had learned before. She decided to push it no further. Her shoulders slumped, and with tears still streaming, she turned and asked Barbara for six of the best, on the bare, in the other room.

Barbara, however, apologized and declined. This was too serious for her.

He spoke. "I understand. Diane, would twelve with your paddle be close enough?"

"With all due respect, Sir, I would be willing to take those twelve, on the bare, on her behalf. But I cannot punish her more than she has already been punished."

He turned his attention back to the woman standing before him in tears. "Leslie, it seems you are among friends.

"And, it seems, you have learned your lesson. If you can forgive me for having to teach it, come give me a hug."

He stood for her to step into his arms, and she held him and cried, turning her head to keep from streaking his shirt with her tears.

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