Unconditional Submission

Katherine's Punishment

On my knees before Clark, I suffered through eight stinging swats of the ruler before I couldn't take anymore. After the eighth smack, I threw my hand behind my back, crying as I desperately tried to rub the sting out of my palm.

I was meant to receive twelve, but my inability to keep still prevented me from getting past eight.

"Katherine..." Clark warned, and I shook my head frantically. "Katherine. Hand. Now."

With great reluctance, I slowly returned my hand to the air. "Please, Master, I'm sor—"

Wap!

I heard myself shriek before the pain really settled, but once it settled, I couldn't think of anything else. The pain was awful; surely there was nothing worse than this.

"That was nine," Clark sighed. "You're supposed to be keeping count."

"Please..." I cried, chaffing my palm against my cotton pants in an attempt to alleviate the burn.

"It's a harsh punishment for a little girl..." Professor Adams mused from somewhere behind where he watched. "Perhaps nine is enough, and we can supplement the remainder of her punishment elsewhere. How would you carry on, Clark?"

"I would finish the punishment assigned," he answered without hesitation, and my pleading eyes wandered up to his. "But, I would also only apply six; a fairer and more realistic limitation for Katherine, whose pain tolerance isn't that high."

"I see..." Professor Adams continued to hum thoughtfully. "So, her limitations have been painfully stressed this afternoon."

"Yes, sir."

"And would you have chosen this punishment if I hadn't approached you in the garden today? Or would you have decided to discipline her differently?"

"She would have been spanked, at the very least, for her behavior," Clark answered without a second's hesitation and I looked up at him in awe over how sure he was in everything he did and everything he decided.

"Will you be disciplining her later for this infraction?"

"Yes."

Disciplined at school, disciplined at home... My mind recalled the very words Clark had spoken in Headmaster Warren's office only a day or two prior.

"Well," Professor Adams' voice gentled signifigantly. "Perhaps she should be done for now then."

A wave of relief washed over the tense muscles in my shoulders, and I felt my stiff body instantly relax. That was until Professor Adams continued.

"...As soon as Dawson contributes to the punishment in the same manner that you contributed to Bridgette's."

While the breath left my lungs, I turned to find Dawson looking more collected than before, only his eyes giving away his uncertainty as he looked at his friend. Turning back, I found Clark's eyes, but they weren't on me. They were focused on his friend, and the two shared a look; possibly similar to the look that was shared when Clark stepped forward to finish Bridgette's punishment.

Did Clark trust Dawson? I wished the question was whether or not I trusted him, but that wouldn't apply here. It would have to boil down to my trust in Clark, and whether or not Clark trusted his friend to discipline his submissive.

I waited, quietly, resolute as Clark sat before me, not quite ready to give up his chair as disciplinarian. Behind a pathetic sniffle, I leaned my head into his knee, and while his hand found the back of my head, his baritone carried across the room in low, biting, words.

"Her hands are off-limits," he told Dawson who I imagined might be nodding along. "And that cane will not come near her."

"Why not?" Professor Adams intervened.