Unconditional Submission

Katherine Likes her Dominant

I had never felt more vulnerable, and it wasn't even the additional company in the room that made me feel this way; I quickly found that the sting in my bottom provided enough of a distraction that I was able to forget about Headmaster Warren and Lorie. It was the child-like punishment at the hands of someone who was exactly the same age as myself that created this daunting feeling. 

Over Headmaster Warren's knee, it was never an issue. He was an adult, a figure of leadership, and at least twenty years older than me. It almost made sense to recieve a child-like punishment from him; I was his student, his responsibility... But Clark couldn't have been more than several months older, at most a year, and despite the several inches he had on me and the intimidating role of Dominant; being across his knee felt almost...invasive.

It was so overwhelmingly intimate.

It was the first time I had felt his hand on my bottom, and the first time he would feel my bottom beneath his hand. When his fingers skated up my backside before delivering the first swat, I trembled, feeling wholly exposed to him by that simple brush of his palm.

Rarely did I regress, but in positions like these, I found myself capable of slipping faster than my mind could properly comprehend. And while his hand peppered my bottom in stinging claps, I held my breath so I wouldn't whine like a fussing child.

There was an area of my bottom, lowest and closest to my thighs, where I felt the sting of a spanking most of all. Somehow, depsite not having delivered a spanking on my bottom before, Clark knew exactly where it would hurt the most, and he had no qualms spending a considerable amount of time there.

I groaned through ground teeth in my effort to keep still, but eventually, I lost control over my legs and my toes started to hammer at the floor. When his hand ventured up, I felt brief reprieve before the fire burned rapidly under the newly targeted area. He diverted his attention lower once more when my fingers gripped frantically at his leg, and then it continued lower until his hand connected with the back of my thighs.

Goodness me, this guy really knew how to deliver a spanking. I was near to tears; fussing without them for the time being, but close to crying as my throat thickened with emotion.

When my eyes started to burn I found that peace I always did. The tears were slipping, and my chest jerkily rose and fell as I cried softly, never one to make a scene. The pain didn't worsen by this point, it settled, as it usually does once I've stopped fighting it. This meant I would take the rest of my punishment with grace; perched properly over Clark's knee, my bottom high, my legs relaxed.

The fight was out of me.

When the spanking stopped, so did my fussing. I supposed it wasn't an awful spanking; I wasn't even close to sobbing, but hadn't he told me in secret that it wouldn't be so terrible? Maybe he was referring to the caning... Or perhaps he didn't realize how terribly intense his punishments were.

I calmed quickly, especially when his palm laid carefully across the scorching curve of my backside. The weight of his hand on my bottom felt nice, and my brain disconnected itself from any discomfort it had focused on and zeroed its interest on the firm pressure applied by the hand on my rump.

I liked it a little too much, and when Clark ordered me up, I was only too eager to comply.

On my feet, I winced slightly as my skirt fell back into place, brushing my aching derrière on its way down. Clark wasted no time moving onto the cane, but in passing on his way towards the cupboard, his hand brushed the back of my head, and I melted immediately beneath his touch. He had no idea what that touch did to me. It took away my reservation for the caning, my uncertainty and fear, and it gave me the intense desire to please him.