Friday, 4 January 2008

Shocked, part 2

Here is the next instalement of the story. No spanking in this but some nudity...giggles. There is a third part but you will have to wait till after the weekend. Anyway, here it is.


'Why have you come?' he asked looking at her, a smile on his face.

She was startled. why would he ask that?


She didn't reply at first and when she did she was surprised by her frankness.

'To let you have me,' she said.

He looked at her, not smiling any more.

'No, you didn't come for pleasure,' he said.

She stared at him, then withdrew and looked down, her humiliation still burning.


'You came here to suffer,' he said.

Fear ran through her body. Her heart started thumping. She froze.

'You want me to punish you,' he continued and his words was another punch. She almost lost her footing.


He was another of those who 'knew' what she wanted, who could give her what she 'needed'. She felt a sudden surge of rage run through her body and she felt her fists clench.


Then she knew. She knew he was right. The insight made her almost slump. Her body felt heavy and she felt betrayed and defeated. Her fists unclenched and she felt a tear in her eye.


'I will punish you,' he said and she felt the smile in his voice.

She could only nod. She had no power left. She was utterly and completely lost.


'I want you to prepare for your punishment and take your clothes off,' he said calmly. His words felt like a slap in the face but she also felt a strange relief that he was giving her orders. She hadn't known how she could cope with being punished but now that he gave her orders she felt that he helped her, made it easier for her.


A part of her brain wondered what happened, why she was there, what she was doing. That part drowned in those other voices that screamed in her head, the voices of humiliation and agony that threatened to take her over. And that little red voice in her belly, the one that spoke with a voice that was hot and red and reassured her about its strength, that voice which she knew was the strongest, the one who would win in the end.


She was already barefoot. She didn't remember taking her shoes off but she knew she was barefoot. A strangely calm and rational thought in her head told her that she was wearing exactly three items of clothing and without them she would be naked. She wondered in which order she should remove them.


She decided to start with she skirt. That seemed appropriate. That seemed the right thing to do. Her fingers moved to the button at the side of her lovely black skirt. She had felt a little daring donning a wide and short skirt like that but a black one always seemed more stylish than any other colour.


Now she felt it slide down her legs. She stepped out of it and held it in her hand, looking around for a place to put it. She put it on the small table in front of her. It looked like a table where a book or a paper should be lying, not a skirt. It looked oddly out of place on the table.


She knew he could see her knickers and she wondered if he had known they were black when he touched them, an aeon ago, outside that pub. She wondered if she should ask him if she could do the stripping in the loo and return when she was naked. She knew those thoughts absurd and dismissed them.


It was time for her top. She wore a striped top, black and white and quite tight fitting. She was a prude but she knew how to dress. She always felt very brave as she put on a top like that, a top that showed off her shape.


She realised in a sudden flash how sexy that top made her feel. She felt it as a touch, as if his fingers were back inside her. She held her breath and almost doubled up as if she had been hit. She also felt how much she desired to take it off. She felt how much she wanted to be naked, to be undressed and sexy. How much she wanted him, anybody, to look at her, to see her and want her.


She was trembling as she slipped the top over her head. She felt it brush her breasts and how naked it made her feel and how utterly exciting it was. She felt a wave of excitement run through her body, a wave that she could no longer control. She felt the utter absurdity of the situation but she didn't care.


'No, wait!' he said as she moved her hands to her hips to slip off her knickers. She stopped and was disappointed. She felt how much she wanted to strip and how much she wanted to be naked. She was angry that she was not allowed and her body ached in frustration.


And suddenly she felt ashamed of herself. She felt how horrible she was. She felt caught out with some naughty thoughts of nudity. She felt like a little girl who had taken her clothes off in the sun, in the woods when she thought no one was watching and now she was found out.


'In the cupboard,' he said, pointing towards the corner of the room, 'there is a cane. Get it for me!'


She was trembling. She had been brought back to the living room. She felt naked. She felt scared again. The word 'cane' had hit her across the face and now she felt ashamed.


She walked to the cupboard, opened the door and saw a cane hanging on a hook on the door. It was a sturdy cane. As she took it down she realised that she had never seen a cane this close. She knew what it was for. She knew what it was.


She moved with caution as she carried the cane back to him. She knew what it was and what it was for but she couldn't think about it. She wanted to know what was happening but her mind went blank. She knew he would use it on her but her mind could not think about it. She wondered if that maybe was a good thing, that she could not think about it.


When he sat there in the armchair with the cane in his hands she knew he was going to hurt her. She knew she was going to suffer. She knew she was to be punished. The realisation that she was going to be punished overwhelmed her. It made her feel naked. This time her nudity didn't mean pleasure, it was not a shameful promise of pleasure but a humiliating realisation of how vulnerable she was.


Her bared skin meant only one thing, that she had been bared, that she had prepared her own body for her punishment. Her naked skin meant that her body was not protected, that it was given over to her punishment, to the cane without mercy. She had stripped off her clothes to make her punishment worse, to make the cane hit her harder.


She froze as she looked at the cane in his hands. She trembled as she knew, rather than thought of, how the cane would hit her.


'Take down your knickers now!' he ordered and her heart stopped beating.

Her fingers felt numb as she slipped her knickers down from her hips, sensing them caressing her skin. This was a sensual, sexy movement but now she only felt stripped and exposed.


She was naked. She stood before him naked and waiting. She knew not how she had got here. She knew only that she was going to be punished.


He rose from the armchair and she felt a sudden urge to turn and run. She didn't and wondered if it was the fact that she would look silly in the street all naked that kept her from running.


He gestured to the armchair.

'Now, lie over the armrest!'

She felt an odd sensation of being comforted by the order to lie down. She knew it would bring her closer to her punishment but she still felt it as a relief.


The armchair was covered in a velvety green material and the armrest was like a cushion, soft and nice. She had never done anything like this before but she seemed to know exactly how to place her body. As she leaned forward she felt the armrest against her lower belly. The pressure on her soft skin made her realise how utterly aroused she was. She was overcome with the sensation of being shamelessly aroused by what was happening.


She felt ashamed, she felt caught out again, as if she was doing something she shouldn't. She was doing something she shouldn't. She was naked with a man she didn't know and who was going to cane her. She was lost in her sense of shame, her sense of shame and arousal.


She didn't know where to put her arms and how to lie in the armchair. She took hold of the other armrest and let her lower belly rest on the other. She stretched her body between the armrests and kept her feet on the floor. She was concerned with her bottom sticking up as it should, intuitively knowing that it should be easy to reach with the cane. She blushed at her thoughts, blushed at her troubles helping the man cane her.


He didn't say anything but patiently waited as she adjusted her body and found a way to stay still. She seemed to understand that she had to keep her position during her punishment.


At last she stopped moving about and seemed to have found her position. She lowered her head, knowing it was time. She didn't want to wait. She wanted it to happen now.





3 comments:

Paul said...

Janice, being ordered to strip when you know there is no alternative can be strangely compelling.
My wife said that it often made her feel as if she was about to orgasm and very very submissive.
So this is very well done, I await part three with interest if not with impatience.
Warm hugs,
Paul.

wilhelmina said...

A lovely and intriguing follow up, I can't wait for the third installment.

Here the stripping is showing that it is not only her body that is bared that her mind and soul is bared too. I like that she tries to categorise him with the rest as if he knows what is good for her, only this time she has to concede he does know.

I enjoy how she is uncomfortable, ashamed, unsure yet ready and aroused all at the same time. It is fascinating to read what she is going through with each step.

Delicious, can't wait for more.

Hugs
Mina

Janice said...

Dear Paul, I think I know what you are talking about...blushes. But there is always an alternative. I think I am intrigued by that, that there is an alternative and that there is always a choice.

Dear Wilhelmina, I like it that you pick up on those details. I think nudity really means baring your soul in a story like this. I mean, if you were really comfortable with it, there would be no reason having it there. And, yes, the humiliation for her is to realise, in a way, that he says the same thing as those idiots she is so fed up with but this time she surrenders to it. And the mix of feelings is one of the things that drives me to write, I think.

Hugs

Jancie