Carolyn gets the carpet beater

...yep, that's me. Or not actually "me" since we were role-playing.

I love role-playing as part of our spanking games. Not only do I get to live out another "life" but also, when the scenarios turn out to be good, I feel myself truly guilty (or righteous, depending if I'm receiving or giving the spanks) after the whole scene is done. Since I haven't yet written about spankings given to me (I don't miss out on the spanking fun you know!), I thought this past weekend's carpet-beating is a good story to begin, especially since it involved a successful role-play.

I don't actually know what possessed me to ask for a spanking that day. It's just that some days I really feel like being punished good. It also felt unfair that Marcus had been getting all the beatings. It's not that I regret giving them to him. I just wanted my share of the excitement, apprehension, tension and release which he had been enjoying mostly in our countryside vacation.

Unlike Marcus though, I'm a sissy when it comes to birches. I could even say I hate birches touching my butt. It feels like electrocution! I would rather get (and do actually) bluish bruises and week-long sore spots on my bottom rather than bend to the birches. So that morning, I asked to be spanked with a carpet beater in the afternoon, and oh was I so apprehensive when lunchtime came!

As a rule, we don't spank each other directly after lunch. It's not good for digestion, you know. Rather, we wait a few hours after... which meant that after lunch I have a window of some hours to be at rest but on my toes, to let it slowly sink in to me what would soon happen to my butt in a few hours. In these hours I usually think about what scenario would be best to put me in the mood for being spanked. Imagining my different life actually takes my mind off the impending pain and gets me excited for the spanking, in the way I sometimes imagine spankable strangers being spanked on my lap. At the same time though, I am a bit in tension. I am trying to remember how it felt like to be hit by a carpet beater, and since it was quite some time ago I begin to wonder if my choice of implement was the right one.

After a few hours I was no longer Carolyn and settled for a role as the high school slut. (Heheh ;-) ) This naughty young girl leaves the house with friends dressed in party clothes: a skimpy jeans skirt that leaves nothing much to the imagination, a top with such a low neckline that she reveals a hint of black bra. She's wearing high heeled pumps and as much flashy jewelry that only a tasteless high school girl can get away with. Before leaving, she absentmindedly promises her parents she'll be back before midnight but conveniently forgets this fact. She thinks her parents are way to lenient anyway, especially her mom, and her dad had just always said words of warning without giving her anything worse than a grounding.

But not this time, when she pushes her limits and gets back home at past 4 in the morning, dropped at the gate by one of her boyfriends. Little did she know that her dad has been waiting for hours in the kitchen, half worried and now absolutely set that he would have to show his naughty girl a lesson.

"Dad, you're... you're awake," she blurted surprisingly, as she hadn't expected anybody to be awake in the house at this hour. Perhaps she was even planning on calling a boyfriend from her bedroom for some after-party pillow talk. However, this plan didn't seem to be a good idea as soon as her dad opened his mouth.

"You're right young lady. Do you have any idea what time is it right now?"

"Ah, yeah sorry, I didn't really have a watch you know. I..."

"That's no goddamn excuse!" dad said strictly, almost shouting it between his teeth. "Look at you -- look at that slutty attire, you call that clothes? ... Noo, don't interrupt me young woman! Or rather, young brat is what you are!"

This paralysed her. Interrupting or talking back was probably not a good idea either. She just wished she had just spent the night at her boyfriend's, or otherwise dissolve into the floor right here right now. When she looked down at her feet though, she felt strange being there in the kitchen as she was dressed, in front of her dad and being reprimanded...

...reprimanded that they have been far too lenient with her, that she had been going home later and later into the night, that she was too young to stay out as late at this, and that she had not even introduced any of her party friends to the parents. Who were they that dropped her off at the gate after parties? Were they even the same person? Were they reliable people? Is she in relationships with any of them? They didn't raise her to be a loose party girl who would spread her legs for any guy. Besides, the phone bills were mounting and her grades were deteriorating. This had better not go on, and dad will make sure it ends right NOW!


Dad reaches out for the first implement he sees in the cleaning cabinet -- the carpet beater -- and drags her as she resists, screaming, down his lap. He quickly warns her to stay quiet, or else! Then he proceeds to give her some carpet beatings on her skirt. Moans of resistance continued, and dad wasn't too happy.


"That doesn't hurt yet, young lady," he said lifting her skirt to prove a point that the spankings can hit in more sensitive places aside from jeans. He wasn't too happy either that her little girl was too... sexual. My oh my, she needed some straightening up! She squeals and tries to get away, but dad's hands were fast around her waist. He gives her some lecturing between single slaps, and then proceeds faster, faster, faster until she couldn't stay still anymore, squeals came involuntarily from out of her mouth.


"That's it! You scream too much. Down on that sofa!", he pointed to the sofa arm for her to lean on. Her bottom was already stinging, and she rubbed them vigorously while looking at daddy with a pleading face. "Down. On the sofa. Now!"

She obeyed.

"I'm going to give you 16 hard ones. You're NOT to scream or shout OR move position, do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"I'm going to be strict with you, and if you move, it doesn't count."

Oh, every one of them hurted! A couple of times, she couldn't help moving, she screamed or wiggled and stood up, but that didn't help. As her father had said, it only earned her more beatings. She had to stand each one if she didn't want to endure even more. She screamed between her teeth instead, contorting her face to the pain, hugging the pillow in the sofa as her only access to comfort at that time.

She wasn't the one doing the counting, so somewhere during those very hard spanks, she just cried. It still hurt, and she still had some energy to wiggle if she wanted to, but she felt... dirty, repentant and thus rightly punished. She also felt sorry for herself as she hugged her pillow and received the rest of the spanks. Each one was heavy, each one stung and burnt her skin.

She was still crying when dad had ended, she stayed in position and felt sorry for herself. When her dad said she could finally stand up, her face was in tears, and she instantly threw herself to her father's arm for comfort.

"I'm sorry daddy!", she managed between sobs. "I'll try ... to be good."

"That's good baby," he embraced her close and rubbed her back." You should. You should."

You guessed it! My butt pictures on the next post so please stay tuned!