The Disciplinarian Ch. 02

This story continues from the "The Disciplinarian, Ch. 01". You need to read that story first to understand who the characters are and where they are physically and emotionally.

*

Jennie, Angie and I talked a lot over the next few days. Angie reported that she had great sex with her husband, Roger, after the last session and Jennie said she all but raped her boyfriend who was puzzled but pleased. Both told me, tittering, that they'd insisted on keeping the lights off, lest their respective paramours notice the pinkish tint remaining in their hindquarters. We quickly decided that we wanted another session with Mr. Daniels.

I volunteered to call him. It could have been set up by telephone, but I wanted to see him alone again, so I suggested another meeting at the coffee house the next day and he agreed.

I was late even more than I had been for our first meeting, but once again he either did not mind or chose not to say that he minded.

Since there was no longer a need for any explanation of what he did, the meeting went quickly. I was frustrated that I did not get to spend more time with him. I kept finding reasons to make it last longer. I asked him questions whose answers I perfectly well knew, such as "Will there be spanking again?" He didn't seem to mind, however, and even seemed to extend the meeting himself, making chit-chat about my job.

At any rate, we quickly made arrangements for a second session at Angie's. Although I wanted it as soon as possible, we had to wait till the next Wine and Fantasy night when Angie's husband would be out playing poker.

Taking Inventory

Jennie and I arrived at Angie's place just as her husband was leaving. I was wearing pink Capri pants and a frilly white blouse. Jennie was wearing a medium length black skirt and plain white button front shirt. Angie was wearing stylish black slacks and a pullover sweater.

We drank a glass of wine at Angie's kitchen table while we waited for Mr. Daniels. Jennie and Angie seemed calmer than they had before our first session with him two weeks before. But I was just as nervous. I wanted to keep my cool this time and not make such a spectacle of myself in front of Mr. Daniels. I knew he'd probably get me wet again, but I was determined not to get more aroused than Angie or Jennie. Each of them seemed able to keep control of herself until she was with the man in her life. I wanted to keep control, too. At least until ... until ... well, I didn't have a man, so I guess I wanted to keep cool until I was home alone with my fingers.

The doorbell rang and moments later, Angie greeted Mr. Daniels at the door and he joined us in the kitchen. Maybe it was my imagination, but he seemed to beam when he saw me. He was wearing a suit and tie, again, and smiling his George Clooney smile as he sipped wine with us and made small talk. He asked us about our hobbies and Jennie told him she played handball several times a week. Angie talked about her amateur clothing design. She mentioned, too, that her husband, Roger, was a ping pong fanatic. Mr. Daniels seemed to take all this in, with genuine interest. After a while, he stood up and walked to the living room.

"Mind if I look around a bit, Angie?" he called back over his shoulder.

"Not at all," she said and we all followed him.

He grew serious and stood in the middle of the room looking at the furniture. He seemed to studying things. Suddenly, he walked to a point in the room where he could look down the hallway that led to the master bedroom. He looked at an easy chair in the living room, and then back and forth between the chair and the hall a few times. Smiling, he seemed to reach a decision about something and he dragged the chair so that it faced the passage to the hallway.

He then stood lost in thought for a moment. Finally he spoke.

"Do any of you have a camera with you?"

"My mobile phone can take pictures," Jennie said. "I'll get it."

"No," he stopped her, "I don't want it now. Maybe later, I'll let you know."

I saw that Angie, who had been relatively calm up to this point, suddenly grew nervous at the hint that a camera might play a part in tonight's activities.

His roaming took him to the bedroom, but he did not spend much time there. He just spun around looking at the furniture. He patted the seat of the stool in front of Angie's makeup dresser as if he was testing its strength. Then it was back to the kitchen where Mr. Daniels opened the refrigerator.

"Can I get you anything?" Angie asked, "Are you hungry?"

"No, no." he replied as he opened her vegetable crisper drawer. "I'm just doing a kind of inventory," he continued, as if that explained anything.

Finally, he closed the refrigerator door, smiled at the three of us and said "Let's get started. All of you take off your shoes and socks."

We did and then he went back to the living room and, pointing to the chair that was now facing down the hallway, he instructed, "Soo May and Angie, I want you two to sit in that chair."

We obeyed immediately. Angie is model thin and I am tiny, so it was no problem for us to sit side-by-side in the chair.

"Jennie," he said, "you come with me."

With that, he strode down the hallway and into the bedroom, with Jennie scurrying after.

Diaper Position

The bedroom door closed. I should explain that at the far end of the hallway, facing anyone looking down the hall, as we were, is the door to the bathroom. The bedroom door is also at the far end of the hallway, but it opens on the side of the hallway, so when it was closed Angie and I could not see much more than the profile of the doorknob sticking out a couple of inches into the hallway. Similarly, when the bedroom door was open, even wide open, we could not see into the room. So, if you think of the hallway as a stage, then the bedroom is actually offstage to the right.

After a minute or so, Angie and I leaned forward and strained to hear, curious but also a bit scared to know what Jennie might be undergoing.

To our surprise, the door suddenly opened again.

Jennie's head, shoulders, and arms suddenly came through the door, but they were horizontal and very low, about knee high.

I blinked in confusion as Jennie placed her hands on the hallway floor. We could see her head and upper body up to a point just below her breasts. She was still fully dressed, at least the part of her that we could see. The rest of her was inside the room, hidden from view. For a moment I thought she must be crawling out of the room. But she made no more forward progress. The angle of her back did not seem right either. If she were crawling it would be flat, so her hips would be at the same level as her shoulders, but the line of her back was angled up as it moved away from her head and toward the room. In my mind's eye, I projected that her hips must be much higher than her shoulders.

Angie had an explanation before I did.

"She's over his lap," she whispered to me.

Of course, I thought. He must be sitting in a chair just inside the door with Jennie lying over his lap. That would explain her position.

With the mystery solved, I could concentrate on Jennie. Seemingly, too embarrassed to look at us, she turned her face downward, red-faced, and she studiously looked straight at a point on the floor between her hands. After a few seconds, she did glance briefly in our direction, and then, seeing us looking at her, she flashed pink, grinned, and quickly looked back at the floor. But it wasn't a grin of happiness, it was one of those pink-faced grins of sheepish embarrassment.

Her body, or what we could see of it, made subtle shifts for a few seconds, indicating that the position of the part we couldn't see was being adjusted. Then the movement stopped and after a second's pause, she spoke ... very nervously.

"Is this ... um ... I mean, Is muh ... uh .. is my puh- position pleasing to you, Mr. Duh- Daniels?"

Startled, Angie could not suppress a nervous little snort of a laugh, but I felt myself grow a bit damp between the legs at the submissiveness of Jennie's query.

We heard Mr. Daniels mutter something and it must have been "yes," because she did not change position.

"Please sp- spank me now, Mr. Daniels," Jennie said with an audible choke in her voice.

Suddenly we heard a muffled smack and Jennie jerked and gasped in surprise. After my experiences with Mr. Daniels two weeks before, I knew that it was a spank I heard, and I knew from the slightly muffled sound of it that Jennie was still had her skirt on.

He continued with a steady rhythm, landing about one spank every second. Muffled by the cloth of the skirt, they made a sound more like "smock" than "smack".

Smock ... Smock ... Smock ... Smock ...

I don't think he was using his maximum strength, but he wasn't warming her up easy either.

Smock ... Smock ... Smock ... Smock ... Smock ...

Jennie's body jerked forward a little from the force of each blow. And, despite her bra and shirt, we could see her titties swing forward and then back with each swat.

Smock ... Smock ... Smock ...

After a full minute of spanks, she began to emit little gasps after each spank, a kind of quiet back beat that played off the rhythm of the snare drum he was playing on her rear. He speeded up and laid down spanks at about two every second.

Smock. Smock. Smock. Smock.

By the second minute she was squirming and we could tell that she must be twisting her hips. Her "ow"s and "ooh"s of pain were getting louder.

Smock. Smock. Smock. Smock.

By the third minute, her face was red and twisted into a grimace. Her eyes were watering and she was spasmodically twisting, first one way and then back as she gasped and moaned in pain.

"Ouch! ... ow! ... [gasp] ... ahhh!"

After another 30 seconds, Jennie seemed to sag in defeat. Her head and shoulders dropped almost to the floor and her shirt must have become untucked with all her thrashing because it slid down to her armpits exposing her lacy pink bra. With a heaving sob, she spoke.

"Mr. Daniels, ... [sniffle] ... are ... uhn ... we ... [gasp] ... almost finished?"

"Not even close, Jennie," he replied loud enough for us to hear. "You've got over five minutes more coming. That's about 500 or 600 more spanks."

She groaned and began to sniffle audibly.

"In that case," she sniffled, "I'd like to make a deal for fewer spanks."

Deal? I thought. Since when can we make deals? I looked at Angie in puzzlement. She only looked back, equally baffled, and then shrugged.

"Very, well," said Mr. Daniels, who did not seem at all surprised at talk of a deal, "I'll cut your remaining spanking in half, but you will have to be almost completely nude: everything off except your panties and even those will be pulled down to your ankles and—"

"OK! I agree." Jennie exclaimed.

"And ...," Mr. Daniels said loudly to point out that she'd interrupted him.

Jennie sighed with the realization that the deal wasn't going to be quite as simple as she'd first thought.

"And you must be lying on your back with your legs up by your head," he continued. "I believe it's called diapering position."

Jennie sighed again, but added "Alright. I'll take that deal."

Jennie pushed herself up from the floor and disappeared into the bedroom. Seconds later her head and naked upper body reappeared face up, lying on her back on the floor. Her bare breasts jiggled a little as she adjusted her position and I noticed that her nipples were hard. A moment later, her feet and ankles appeared above her head. She was in diapering position.

"Panties to your ankles, Jennie," Mr. Daniels reminded her.

We saw her shoulders move slightly and we knew she'd grabbed the waistband of her undies. Her face turned red in mortification of what she was about to do. Then, blinking back a sniffle, we saw her drag her wispy white panties into view until they reached her ankles. Finally, with a sob, she grabbed each ankle with her hands and held her legs down toward her head and spread as wide as the stretched undies would allow.

The abject submission of Jennie's position made me squirm in arousal and I hoped that Angie didn't notice. But I also wondered, with an irritation I couldn't explain, why she had worn such sexy underthings.

"Jennie," Mr. Daniels suddenly spoke with deceptive gentleness, "don't you have something to ask me?"

"Huh? ... Oh, yes." we heard her say, "Is my position pleasing to you Mr. Daniels?"

"It is," he replied.

"Then, please spank me, Mr. Daniels," she added.

He must be kneeling beside her, I realized. That's only position in which his hand could reach her bottom, which would be barely above the floor.

SMACK!

He resumed with a much harder spank than he had been dealing out earlier. Jennie gasped in surprise and momentarily lost hold of her ankles, but she grabbed them again and held her legs down.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Spanks on bare flesh sounded differently than spanks did on cloth, and her breasts shook like Santa's belly with each spank.

She lasted no more than a minute this time before she was moaning and gasping again.

"Errg! ... unh! ... [sniffle] ... ouch!"

As she lay there on her back holding her legs down and spread, I could imagine what Mr. Daniels was seeing: Jennie's furry privates completely exposed and splayed open obscenely. The thought of being in that position myself made me squirm with arousal again.

Seconds later, Jennie was begging for another deal.

"Please, Mr. Daniels," she pleaded, "I can't take anymore."

"Very, well," he seemed to sigh as if this was against his better judgment, "I'll let you finish with just ten more spanks. But they won't be hand spanks. Angie mentioned her husband loves ping pong so there must be plenty of ping pong paddles in this home. Your last ten spanks will be with the paddle and you will be in your original position."

"Alright," Jennie nearly sobbed, "I'll t- take the deal."

"Very well," said Mr. Daniels. "You are to get up and ask Angie if you can borrow a ping pong paddle for the remainder of your spanking. Don't cover any part of your body with your hands. Bring the paddle back to me and be quick about it."

Gingerly, Jennie got up from the floor and walked nakedly down the hallway to us as best she could. her panties still around her ankles. She was looking down and away, unable to face us.

"Angie," she sniffled, "may I borrow a ping pong paddle?"

"Ask her again, Jennie, and tell her why you want it," Mr. Daniels called from the bedroom.

"May I borrow a ping pong paddle, Angie, so that Mr. Daniels can spank me with it?"

"Of course," Angie said, as she started to get up from the chair, "I'll go get one for you."

"No!" Mr. Daniels called from the bedroom, "She must get it herself. Just tell her where it is."

"It's in that closet," Angie said pointing to a door at the other end of the room, "on the shelf."

"You are taking too long," Mr. Daniels called out at this point, "get back here with that paddle and get in position in fifteen seconds or you'll get extra swats."

With a squeal of fear, Jennie pulled one leg out of her panties and scampered across the room. I twisted around in the chair to watch her. I saw that her bum was a bright pink and her buns alternated pumping up and down as she ran. Angie and I couldn't entirely suppress a giggle which I'm sure Jennie heard. She got to the closet and practically threw open the door. Frantically, she stood on tip toes to reach the high shelf and felt around madly for a paddle. After several seconds, she found one, grabbed it, and raced back towards us with the paddle. As she raced past us and down the hall, we again saw her bare pink bottom churning. Just as she reached the bedroom door, her undies fell off her other foot. She entered the bedroom and in no more than a second she was in her original position, facedown and apparently over Mr. Daniels lap with her upper body visible to us. Her panties were on the floor directly below her face as if she needed any reminders that she was nude. She handed Mr. Daniels the paddle while breathlessly asking the question which I by than I had figured out must be required.

"Is my position pleasing to you, Mr. Daniels?"

He replied that it was, so it was her line next:

"Please, continue my spanking."

"Gladly, but you took a lot longer than fifteen seconds to get back here, so I'm doubling the swats. You will get twenty."

Jennie opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, Mr. Daniels interrupted her with a sharp slap of the paddle against her already tender butt. It made a sound that immediately made me realize the origin of the word "swat".

SWAT!

"Owwwohh," Jennie howled and we could tell by the movement of her shoulders that she was twisting her hips. I found the thought of her twisting on his lap upsetting for some reason.

SWAT!

"Arrgghhh," Jennie grunted through gritted teeth, her face screwed up and knotted.

"I can't [gasp] tuh- take twenty of these, Mr. Daniels," she sobbed, "please l- l- let me have another deal."

Mr. Daniels sighed loudly again and seemed to be thinking it over. Finally, he spoke.

"Alright, Jennie, I'll forgive your tardiness in getting back here with the paddle. I can cancel the extra ten swats, so you'll only have eight more. But only on one condition."

"Anything, anything" Jennie beseeched him.

"Angie and Soo May will come down here and watch you get your last eight swats close up," Mr. Daniels explained, "and you will thank me for each swat and thank them for watching."

"Oh, God," Jennie moaned.

"Well," said Mr.Daniels, "if you are uncertain you want the deal, I'll just continue with eighteen you've got coming."

"No! no!" Jennie exclaimed, "I'll ... [sob] ... take the deal."

"Then invite them to come and witness your bare-bottom paddling. Use a complete sentence and, as always, be polite." he instructed.

After a pause, Jennie spoke, barely above a whisper.

"Soo May and Angie would you-"

"Louder, please," said Mr. Daniels. "I can barely hear you myself."

Jennie cleared her throat and spoke clearly.

"Angie and Soo May, would you please come down here and watch Mr. Daniels paddle my bare bottom?"

Angie and I looked at each other. We weren't so certain we wanted to see our friend's bare bottom being swatted, but after a moment, Angie got up and walked down the hall. I followed.

When we got to the bedroom door and could at last see into the room, we were in for a surprise. Jennie was not over Mr. Daniels' lap after all. She was kneeling on Angie's make-up stool which Mr. Daniels had placed just a foot or so inside the room. He had instructed her to kneel on it and then lean forward with her hands on the hall way floor. As a result, she appeared to Angie and me -- the part of her that we could see anyway -- as if she were over his lap.

I felt a surge of relief and joy at the discovery that she was not lying on his lap, although I wasn't sure why.

In nearly every other respect, Jennie was as I'd pictured her. Her pink bottom was the highest part of her. Her head was near the floor about the height of my shins. Mr. Daniels was standing beside her. Raised up as she was by the stool, her bum was a perfect height for him to smack.

He held the paddle ominously in his hand, and I felt myself getting fizzier at the scene laid out almost literally at my feet. But he seemed relaxed more than stern. He even smiled slightly at Angie and me as we came into view. The paddle was scary, but he didn't seem scary at all. In fact, while he seemed commanding as always, he was a kind of warm and friendly commander. Strangely, although I knew he would be spanking me before the evening was over, I felt safe in his presence.