Emma's Corner Read online

  "Can't you think of something else? Please?" Emma moaned, shifting from foot to foot in a perfect stasis of fear and anxiety.

  "No. You are going to have your bare bottom smacked until you learn what you need to learn." His voice grew more menacing.

  "No, Jack, please," she cried, wiping the tears from her large brown eyes with an anxious sweep of her tiny left hand. "I'll be good from now on, I promise I will."

  "I'm sure you will once we are done here. In return, I promise that you will be spending the rest of the night with a hot, tender bottom. In fact, I plan on tanning that backside until I know that you will be eating your meals standing for at least the next couple of days. Enough with the procrastination. You agreed to this. It's your final chance to change your mind. Either do as I tell you or pack your bags."

  Emma shook her head in defeat. It was submit to this spanking or leave.

  "All right," Jack commanded, clapping his hands down on his kneecaps to emphasize the point, "I want those panties down, little miss."

  Emma immediately broke down into a flurry of tearful petitions. "No, Jack, don't make me do that. This is too embarrassing, I can't stand it, let me keep them up, please..."

  Jack nodded, as if expecting nothing better from her. "You are going to bare your bottom for me whether you like it or not. Obedience is part of the lesson you are about to learn. Slip those panties down before I come over there and pull them down myself," he warned her, getting ready to rise from his seat.

  Turning away from his stern, measuring gaze, Emma bent over to slide her flimsy cotton panties down to her heels, hesitantly showing off her flawlessly white and temptingly full bottom in the process.

  "Good," Jack told her with a severe tone, "come over here and get over my knee. And you can stop that crying, little girl—or I may have to add a few minutes more to your chastisement."

  Placing a small, shy hand over her womanhood, Emma hobbled tearfully over to Jack's side, her shoulders heaving as she stammered out her apologies, hopelessly seeking a reprieve.

  Jack wasted no time drawing her over his lap and settling her into place. Draped over his iron thighs, with her face hovering several inches above the floor, Emma experienced the first bout of the shame, fear, and enormous, childlike embarrassment which comes with submission to an irrefutable, masculine authority. Her lush, tender globes stared up at him in naked shock as they tensed and twitched with anticipation. She felt a massive sense of helpless vulnerability, with the inevitable knowledge that her bottom was on open display to the very person who was about to spank it to the color of a maraschino cherry.

  "I'm too old for this," she cried, doubled over Jack's thighs with her soft, creamy buttocks practically sticking in his face.

  "You are never too old for some old-fashioned discipline, and I happen to be an exemplary disciplinarian," he said softly, lifting his right hand. "Let's get this started."

  His palm descended on Emma's bottom with a stroke of iron, and testified to his outstanding corrective skills. "I pride myself on being an exceptionally hard spanker," he said, as the girl bucked and twisted on his lap after the first, single whack. "I also believe in the virtue of a steady, persistent rhythm, with gradual increase in the tempo. A good spanking should always work up to a crescendo and end with a repentant scream rather than a timid whimper. That is our goal today."

  Jack's hand danced from cheek to cheek, each pointed, staccato connection reddening the flesh to a dark scarlet. Emma wailed in protest, begging him to stop while kicking her pale legs and flailing her head from side to side.

  "Now, now, you know full well that this part of the spanking is only just beginning. I plan on making certain that your bare bottom will be red and quite achy by the time I finish." His left hand clamped around her waist to prevent her from hurling herself from his lap in a frenzy to escape, as he increased the velocity of swats in increments. He then shifted his focus to the sensitive junction at the top curve of her thighs.

  "Owww! My God! Jack! Its hurts! It really hurts!" Emma wailed, her firm, quivering cheeks throbbing with agony as they were suffused with a radiant crimson flush. She sobbed and screamed as his stony palm swept down on her unprotected backside, flooding her with pain, shame and simpering guilt. He finished off with ten swift, hard, and exquisitely painful strokes to her scarlet bottom, making it quake and wobble as each resounding smack exploded across her trembling cheeks.

  Finally, it was over. Emma collapsed across his lap—a breathless, pathetic tangle of limbs like a marionette suddenly bereft of its strings. Several minutes passed as the panting, exhausted girl tried to calm herself, soothed only by the feel of him gingerly rubbing her bottom with large, blunt fingers. Gently patting the back of her right thigh, he lifted her to a standing position with his hand still planted firmly on her stinging, bright red bottom.

  "We won't have any more of this disrespect now, will we?" he asked firmly.

  "No, sir," Emma whimpered a barely audible reply.

  "And do you understand that if this happens again, the discipline is going to be much harsher?"

  "Y-yes, sir."

  "Excellent. I think a second dose of corner time is in order," Jack said, indicating the corner with a vague inclination of his head. "Off you go, now. You have thirty minutes with your nose to the wall. Oh, and if I catch you rubbing your backside, it'll be straight back over my lap—this time with a hairbrush. Am I understood, little girl?"

  "Yes, sir," Emma murmured. Face downcast and shoulders hunched, she turned and plodded her way across the room, her naked, swollen rump shining like a lighthouse on a fogless night. Taking her humiliating position in the indicated corner, she felt herself reduced to nothing but a naughty little girl with the world's sorest bottom. All she lacked were the ribbons in her pigtails. Was this to be her life now?

  CHAPTER THREE

  True to Jack's word, Emma ate standing up for a good part of the next two days. With the fear of a worse spanking looming over her head, she strived to keep Jack's rules. She paid meticulous attention to the time, avoiding the six o'clock penance for over a week. She did her listed chores correctly and without complaining. She cleaned her plate and brushed her teeth 'like a good girl'. Day by day, she felt less like an adult and more like a child in Jack's presence. She could not pinpoint anything specific, but felt him drawing her into a more vulnerable, childlike state.

  The snows had settled in by Emma's second week, as had boredom. No longer able to go outside, and with Jack not having a television or video games, her eye fell on the tablet perched precariously on the book shelf. Assuring herself that he was nowhere in view, she pulled it down and began to play her favorite game, thanking the gods of technology for the immortality of the New World batteries.

  She was so engrossed in her game that she did not hear Jack's entry, or notice that he was standing over her with his hands on his hips. It was not until he cleared his voice that she looked up… that long journey to his eyes.

  "Would you care to explain?" he growled, holding his hand out for the device.

  Emma shook her head silently as she handed it to him.

  "Go to your room and stay there until I call you for dinner. I will deal with this tomorrow when I am more awake."

  Emma quickly obeyed, nauseated by the thought of how he planned on 'dealing' with her the next day. He called her for dinner, saying little except for her to finish the milk he had warmed up for her and sprinkled with cinnamon. After they'd eaten, he dismissed her from cleaning the kitchen, and sent her to her room to get changed for bed and wait for him. She obeyed, hanging her head in remorse and dragging her feet to the other side of the house.

  Jack appeared in her doorway, again without knocking.

  "You are aware that I am very disappointed in you, Emma."

  "Yes, sir," she whispered, suppressing a yawn. "I'm really sorry."

  "I'm sorry to say, but tomorrow I will see exactly how sorry you are. Go to sleep."

  "But it's early yet
and—"

  "I'm not repeating myself, young lady. Good night."

  The concern that he would lock her in the bedroom flickered across her mind, but soon faded as sleep took over. Her exhaustion left no energy to ponder the reason why that thought had been triggered, nor did it occur to her that he might have put something into the milk that he had insisted she drink at dinner.

  ***

  Emma's entire life changed overnight. The click of the light being turned on startled her to a groggy wakefulness, only to find that her eyes had been covered with a soft blindfold. Panic besieged her with the discovery that her wrists had been bound to the upper corners of the platform that she was lying upon. Her desperate attempt to sit up was thwarted by snug restraints around her ankles and the catching of her hair beneath her. She began to jerk and twist to free herself.

  "Help!" she screamed. "Oh, my God! Help!"

  "Shh. Calm down. You don't need to keep tugging against that hold on your hair, little one. We don't want you losing all of that glorious mane just because you're stubborn, do we? I can promise you that you'll never get your hair—or anything else—loose," Jack's voice called from across the room. "I said stop moving!"

  Emma froze, her breath coming in tiny, terrified squeaks. "What are you doing to me? Why?" she croaked, tears leaking down her cheeks. "Please, let me go. I came here to rent some space—not whatever this is. Jack, please! I thought we were becoming friends?"

  His silence added to her terror. She could hear him moving about the room and felt a soft breeze caress her body as his footsteps moved past the bedside. The cool, soft cloth against her skin suggested that she was no longer attired in the cozy flannel cupcake nightshirt she'd put on the evening before, and that she lay naked under a sheet. She gasped as the material slowly slid down to bare her breasts. Her nipples responded automatically to the cool morning air by tightening to peaks resembling generous raspberries.

  "Someone is a bit chilled, I can see. I'm sorry about that. In the future I'll make sure the temperature is more comfortable for you."

  Panic rapidly settled in as her ears tracked his movement to the side of the bed. She heard a soft click near her head, followed by the swish of a side rail being lowered, and the rustling of the sheet being removed from her body. Emma stiffened when his hand touched her immobilized foot. To her dismay, his hand did not remain in place for any length of time. Very, very slowly, his warm palm made its way up the inside of her calf, then crept along the inside of her thigh, until it finally reached her crotch.

  "Is this diaper comfortable? I would not want your skin to become chafed. That would not be very responsible of me now, would it?" he asked, clutching the padding that covered her privates.

  Emma's mind swam with fear and confusion as the severity of her situation dawned on her. It was not enough knowing that he was boldly cupping her lady parts, but also that he had drugged her, removed her nightgown and panties, and put her into a diaper before placing her into this-this crib! As she mutely replayed that he had, indeed, touched her intimately while she slept, her breath began to seize, and a scream blew from her lips. It did not matter that she was miles away from any neighbors, or that her voice was lost in the dense woods surrounding the isolated cabin. She had lost all control, and had no other way to save herself except for this final, futile attempt. That shrill, sharp, desperate scream pulled every bit of energy from her body, and she began to hyperventilate with fear.

  Jack allowed this release to continue for a few seconds, remaining silent as she attempted the last, useless endeavor to call for help. She was quite exhausted, and her throat raw, by the time he came close to her head and said very quietly, "If you continue to scream like that, I'm going to gag you. Believe me when I tell you the device I use is very effective and will not allow even so much as a peep to be heard. It's your choice. I'm going to give you a couple of minutes to think about what brought you here, and why."

  Choice? What choice? She reached the understanding that the only choice Emma had in this entire situation was that she had come to him with the understanding that she would be his domestic help. He'd manipulated her into giving her consent, in writing, to do whatever he felt necessary to punish her for breaking his rules. She was the one who hadn't asked for details or read through the contract. Had all of this been a ruse; a consensual 'kidnapping' per se, clearly set up by her vindictive aunt?

  In an effort to regain some sense of control, Emma took in a deep breath and released a piercing scream that raced through the still air. Barely two seconds passed before her mouth was stuffed instantly with an inflatable gag, quickly eliminating sound as he pumped it with air.

  "I suggest that you calm down right now. Breathe through your nose," Jack said softly. "In… out… there you go. I really don't want to hurt you, you know."

  Emma squeezed her eyes shut under the blindfold, trying to focus on her breathing. She could hear Jack at the end of the crib as he collapsed the lower portion beneath her feet.

  "I designed and built this bed," he said, with a hint of pride in his voice. "It allows me to drop any of the side rails for complete access, plus there are plenty of hooks to put you in whatever position I need you to be in. Just like I can tie your wrists to the corner, I can also force you to bend your knees and bind your ankles to the rails. Can you understand how that works in getting you to spread these lovely thighs nice and wide? Restraints are wonderful inventions, aren't they? Not only do they hold you fast so you can't interrupt anything I want to do, but they also take away your control. This way you can enjoy everything you experience without feeling guilty!"

  He removed the straps from her ankles and pulled her body down towards him until her bottom rested on the very edge. She stiffened, as this awkward position permitted him to be much closer than she cared for. Her instincts for self-preservation took over, and she kicked him with as much strength as she could muster. Inherently, she knew that the damage she inflicted to this mountain-sized beast—if any—would be slight, but she threw her small, thin frame into the assault with gusto and determination.

  He subdued her with truly depressing ease, quickly securing her feet to the top railing on either side of her body, midway between her hips and her head. Despite the diaper, her legs were obscenely splayed apart, with her lower body suspended a few inches above the mattress. Jack wasted no time and, after some judicious unsnapping, the diaper was taken down.

  Emma cried out in mortification, for not only were all of her secrets bared to him in broad daylight, but the cold breeze upon her flesh revealed that he had removed all trace of womanly fuzz. The knowledge that his fingers had touched every tiny fold of her intimate area, and that he'd been given full view of her snowy bottom and the tiny secret place it hid, was beyond her comprehension. Hot tears flowed readily down her face, soaking the blindfold within seconds.

  Through her muted cries, she could hear him take a step. Without another sound, he cracked his palm down, full force, on the very white derrière that was so nicely exposed to him. Emma's efforts to scream became increasingly even more violent and furious, but the gag kept her forcibly voiceless as that big hand descended time and again, concentrating his efforts upon her readily available backside.

  Jack's hand easily covered every bit of her helpless bottom, concentrating most of his swats upon the delicate crest. He paused to remove the gag and loosen the hold on her hair. Silent sobs immediately replaced the screams.

  "I am very displeased that your rebellion has led you to this place so quickly. I expected to have a few weeks of just regular behavior, maybe speckled with a little spanking or two while you adjusted. But no—you had to defy me a second time on something I was adamant about. I will have you know that I have no intent on stopping until this little rump is the exact shade of glowing red I desire, Emma. I don't want you to pass out on me but if you scream like that again, the gag is going right back in. Blow." He held a tissue to her nose.

  "I suspect, by your reaction, that t
his is the first time anyone has seen you on display," he said, returning his attention to her flaming backend. "Humiliation is such an important part of discipline. It is unbelievable how terribly lax current parenting practices have become in this area of correction, don't you agree? Even in school, a child learned the basics of proper etiquette and self-control. Shame the government got its hands on Strictland. That academy had the right idea. You've heard of that place, right?"

  He sharply smacked the backs of her trembling thighs. "Of course you have! I intend on following their example. I am going to show you how I expect you to behave. I am your teacher now, and if this spanking does not make an impression as to how seriously you are to take my rules, I don't know what will. Just be aware that I won't hesitate to blister your bottom any time I feel the need."

  Emma sobbed as he communicated his intentions to her, calmly and methodically, all the while unceasingly raining down vicious swats upon her posterior. He promised that he would never beat her bloody, nor would he use his fists upon her. His agenda was clear. He would thoroughly punish her, each and every time she did something she should not. And he alone was the arbiter of what she should, or should not, do. He bluntly stated that he would step in where her natural father and her educators had failed, and that she would become both a well-behaved young lady, and a successful student by the time he was done with her.

  "One more thing, Emma," his voice was menacingly patient. "My intent is to avoid gagging you if possible. I do love to hear the whimpers of a repentant girl during discipline, and plan to provide you with plenty of opportunities to learn how to make the noises I enjoy. I will clarify that screaming like you just did is unacceptable, and is not to occur again. If it does, I promise to give you something to scream about. Have I gotten my point across to you?"

  Emma nodded, the tears leaking out of from the sides of her blindfold and into the hair at her temples. The spanking stopped, and she heard the creaking of a chair as the large man leaned back to admire his handiwork.