Sunday, January 1, 2017

The Arrival - continued four

 This time LeAnne needed no warning because she could view his large callused hand as it lifted up to begin the first real spanking of her life.  There was no longer an anticipation when his hand would strike her bottom.  This time she could see it plan as day.  Even though each slap to each cheek was firm and sound Mr. Edwards was still not delivering his severest blows.  Still, each smack was worse than when she was standing and yet not so bad that she couldn't tolerate them.



Mr. Edwards strokes were calculated, slow and methodical.  As it began to sting LeAnne's only thought was on how long this would go on and would there be even more?





Unknown to LeAnne it was approaching the time for the other occupants of Quarter House to come back from their daily routines and assemble for dinner together and then settle into their evening routines.  It was not at all uncommon for occupants, through the years, to hear a spanking being administered at any given hour or room at Quarter House.  That fact however still didn't preclude one or more occupants stopping in their tracks to either just listen, make a remark or simply give a nod as they lifted their eyebrows as to say, "I know what she's going through!"  I'm sure if she knew about her spanking being heard by others now LeAnne would have been far more embarrassed than she already was.  However, modesty or embarrassment wasn't really on her mind at the moment.




It would never have occurred to LeAnne that while she was upstairs getting a bare bottom spanking, her first ever, down stairs the other young women of Quarter House where gathering together while and setting the dinning room table for dinner.  To everyone there it was just another normal day.





Every clash now intensifying was gaining a rhythm slightly faster and slightly harder.  It didn't do LeAnne a bit of good to cry with more sincerity.  Her cries seemed to fall on deaf ears anyway.  It was finally time for her to put her hand to her mouth to muffle her crying.  She was on fire and there was no one willing, or wanting, to put it out.

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