St. Andrew’s Day Reprimand

Syd stood back, hands behind her back, feet shoulder width apart, head and eyes down, and tried to listen attentively while Sir calmly explained why she would be reprimanded. She knew EXACTLY why she was being reprimanded. Her heart was as heavy as lead, filled with her own disappointment in herself. Today at lunch, she’d been giggly, silly, and downright rude to Sir’s mother. Syd didn’t know what had come over her. She LIKED Gayle! Okay, maybe she did know what had come over her. Probably that third glass of champagne.

Now, though, risking a quick glance at the St. Andrew’s Cross, she was stone cold sober.

“Do you accept your punishment?” Sir asked.

Shit!! She’d been so distracted with feelings of guilt she hadn’t actually paid attention to what Sir had outlined. Biting her lip, she answered honestly, “I’m sorry, Sir. I got lost in my own thoughts for a bit. I was out of control this afternoon, though, despite your warnings, and I trust you. So, even though I didn’t focus on the details of what you described, I will accept whatever you decide is fair.”

He said nothing for a full minute, which made Syd feel even worse. She felt tears welling in her eyes already.

“Step into place,” he ordered quietly.

She did so. Her mind was now racing as Sir attached cuffs to her wrists and ankles, binding her in place. She now had a full view of every possible implement he could use for her reprimand, her gaze focusing on the heavy, cow leather flogger. The falls were thick and thuddy, so the impact would be felt. However, like all of their impact items, there was very little chance of skin breakage, something Sir was careful never to do. When they had bought the heavy flogger, the craftsman had warned that it was SERIOUS flogger meant not for pleasure (as the softer suede ones were), but rather for punishment. She knew, KNEW, he would choose that one, and she knew she deserved it.

“There will be no warm up. There will be no pausing. Obviously, there will also be no mercy shown to you as you were merciless in your words to my mother.”

Syd bowed her head and sniffed.

The first lash was just as she expected. Hard. Painful, but not unbearable. After that, she couldn’t keep track of the number inflicted on her. As the reprimand rained down on her back, buttocks, and legs, she sobbed, feeling each fall as if it were her own words being lashed at her mother-in-law. What had possessed her to tease Gayle about her weight?? It’s not like Syd was a skinny little thing herself! Hells Bells, she NEVER insulted other women! How could she have insulted a woman she admired so much?? Women needed to lift each other up, not drag them down.

Sir flicked the flogger between her spread legs. Syd screamed.

“Pain coming from a surprise source is always the worst,” Sir stated calmly.

He was right!! Gayle would never have expected such harsh words from her! The shock of them must have hurt terribly!

Syd lost herself to the reprimand, absorbing, processing, and accepting each lash. She welcomed the pain as was her due.

“Tomorrow,” she thought, “tomorrow morning I’ll go to Gayle’s and apologize. I have to face her.”

Sir was now concentrating on her ass. Tomorrow, Syd knew, she would be unable to sit easily. She welcomed that. Her words would have caused Gayle to be uncomfortable, so she also deserved to be uncomfortable.

She was breathing through her mouth, her nose too stuffy to be of use, and sobbing. Her face was a wet mess of snot and tears which she welcomed. Once more, a fall slipped between her legs and flicked her labia and clit. She screamed. Sir stopped.

He ran a hand down her back, buttocks, and legs until she had stopped her crying. Calmer, she felt the catharsis of enduring a deserved reprimand. She accepted her poor decision, felt regret, and had atoned, at least partially, for her actions.

Sir kissed her neck and asked, “How are you feeling?”

“Well, Sir. I’m grateful to you. Am I forgiven? By you?”

“Of course, Syd,” he answered. “What do you mean by me?”

“It was your mother I insulted, Sir,” she explained quietly. “With your permission, I’ll go to her tomorrow and apologize to her as well.”

Sir began to unlatch her from the cross. “I’d like that,” he responded. “Now, off to your corner.”

Lighter of spirit if stiffer of body, Syd did as she was told. Standing in the corner, she closed her eyes and placed her hands on the wall to keep herself from inadvertently rubbing her stinging bottom. She sighed, content with the knowledge that Sir had forgiven her and, her offer to apologize in person to Gayle, had pleased him. If a tender and possibly marked ass was the price she had to pay for this feeling of peace, she would happily pay it again. Correcting her thoughts, she decided that rather than pay it again, she’d learn from this and adjust her behavior accordingly. No champagne could ever taste as sweet as look of pride on Sir’s face when she behaved well.

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