by Ron McIngle
"Why are you crying?" Harry asked as he lifted his slave's chin, forcing her to look at him. "I haven't even read the punishment book yet, let alone passed judgment."
"I'm sorry," Kerrie replied, struggling to keep her voice steady as she blinked away the tears. "I'm just getting emotional, knowing that this will be the last time."
"One would think that a slave would be overjoyed knowing that they had reached the end of their servitude."
"Then one would not know this slave well," Kerrie replied, a hint of a smile showing in her countenance. "Besides, it is not the end of my slavery, just the end of having you as my master."
"You don't need to serve another master," Harry said firmly. "You know that I have filed the documents, and your parole has been approved."
"I know that I am not required to have another master," Kerrie corrected. "But I still need one. I do better when I have someone to hold me accountable. As a parolee, I would likely get into some sort of trouble and then I would be in a much worse situation."
"You have been a good and loyal slave, and only slightly disobedient. I will miss you."
"I will miss you too Sir, truly I will. I wish that you could be my master for ever and ever."
"But I can't," Harry sighed, his own voice becoming emotional. "My work visa is expiring and I must return to Earth. Paroled slaves are not allowed to leave Hasbold, otherwise I would take you with me. I am afraid that this has to be goodbye."
"I know, Sir. My mind knows the truth of the matter, it is my heart that hasn't accepted the facts."
"Your punishment book!" Master Harry demanded, suddenly changing the subject before he became even more emotional. "I've got four hours before I have to catch the Hyperloop to the spaceport. Plenty of time to fulfill my duties one last time!"
"Right here, Sir." Kerrie's stomach lurched as she handed over the hardbound notebook. She had been expecting it, wanted it even, but knowing this would be the last time made it especially difficult.
"Well," he said, the disappointment clear in his tone as he read the most recent entries. "You had been doing so well, and now this!"
"Yes Sir," Kerrie said sadly. She cast her eyes to the floor, avoiding his look. She had been trying hard to please him, and she had made great progress during the last five years with him as her master. He had made her want to behave. It was just that her mood had soured in the final days before his departure, and the willpower to resist her bad habits had waned. She couldn't look at her master now and face the disappointment that she knew she would find there.
"Let's see: Wasted time at work daydreaming. Surly with coworkers. Rude to a customer. Ate a very unhealthy lunch." Harry paused after reading that last item aloud. "You broke your diet? What did you do?"
"I ate an entire carton of ice cream," Kerrie admitted.
"I see. And what is this last item: 'caused master to be upset'. When was that?"
"It is now, Sir. I knew that you would be very disappointed in me, so I made the entry in advance."
"I am disappointed," Harry agreed. "But I am not upset, nor am I surprised. This is hard on both of us. Now the question is: what should I do about this? If I let this go, then we would at least part on good terms, and our memories of the last time we saw each other would be of happier things."
"You never let any of my transgressions go before," Kerrie pointed out. "Besides, all my memories of you will be happy ones. Well, maybe not those days you had me locked in the cage, right after you arrived five years ago. Everything else though!"
"Even the whippings?"
"Some of the whippings were horrible at the time, and sufficient to ensure that I never did that again! But I know that they were all done with love. I regret the crimes, I really do. I don't regret the punishments: they are something that I know I deserved, then there was forgiveness, and closure. They made me a better person. I appreciate all that you have done for me."
"Well then, there is more appreciation at hand. Into the punishment room with you!"
"Yes Sir," Kerrie said eagerly as she led the way down the hall. The architect had intended the space to be a bedroom, but now it contained only punishment equipment.
The first phase of the punishment was almost always the same, and there was solace in the routine. Harry sat down in a straight-backed chair; Kerrie lifted the front of her skirt so that it wouldn't be trapped underneath her and lay across his lap. "You have been a naughty girl!" was the standard lead in phrase, followed by the first swat of his hand upon the fabric of her skirt.
"Ow! Yes Sir," she acknowledged, and knew it to be true. There were times when her master teased her with those same words, and would even spank her for an imaginary offense. Such torments were nothing more than foreplay. This was not one of those times.
"Whatever - your - mood - is - should - not - detract - from - your - work," Harry scolded, each word interleaved with another swat to her buttock.
"Ow! Uh! Oww! Yes Sir," Kerrie replied repentantly. His words stung more than the swats did. Her infractions might fall into several different categories: unintentional screwups, such as breaking a dish or losing something of value, the resulting punishment was more to relieve her own guilt rather than add to it; annoyances, such as playing her music too loud or leaving a dirty dish out of place, would result in a punishment but very little emotion. There were times when she might intentionally push his buttons and the spanking would be playful.
Then there were the issues where her actions had long ranging consequences. Prior to serving this master she had rarely kept a job for more than two years. Once Master Harry took control of her life, maintaining a professional work ethic had been paramount and the one area where he would give no quarter. She had reaped the benefits of his efforts as her performance reviews steadily improved along with her pay. Knowing that she had disappointed her master only deepened her emotional state.
Splat! Splat! Splat! Splat! Splat!
"Your work is your livelihood!"
Kerrie whimpered as the hem of her skirt was lifted, leaving only thin panties to soften the blows. The over-the-knee position was a love/hate thing for her. She enjoyed the intimacy, being in firm contact with her master. She appreciated how vulnerable it made her and how it tightened the skin across her buttocks. She didn't like how lightheaded it made her. She hated how easily she could escape and how difficult it was not to.
Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap!
"There is no excuse for zoning out and neglecting your work!" Harry continued to scold after delivering five hard, rapid swats. Kerrie squealed as the pain peaked.
"Yes Sir," she said, just saying anything to acknowledge her master. Five more swats landed, the pain of one building on the one that preceded it. Kerrie whimpered again as her panties were lowered. The whimper wasn't from fear or embarrassment; she had been through this exact procedure far too many times for there to be any of that.
"Allowing your poor attitude to contaminate your work is totally unacceptable!"
"Yes Sir! EIEEEHYAA!" Kerrie cried out as five more swats landed, all landing on the same spot. Oh, how she was tempted to put a hand back to protect herself. If he would just move the target, each swat would be so much easier to take. But this wasn't intended to be easy.
The spanking went on and on; a short lecture, followed by five rapid fire swats delivered to the same spot. Repeat. The target for the volley of swats moved around for each volley, but it wasn't long before previously covered territory was targeted again.
"Do you think your workmates should suffer because you are in a bad mood?"
"OWWW, No Sir. I'm sorry," she cried as she scooted herself back up his lap, after having almost fallen off due to her squirming during that last volley. One time, long ago, she had fallen from his lap, and he had made sure that she would never do that again.
"They're the ones that you owe the apology to, not me."
"OW, OW! Yes Sir. I'll apologize tomorrow. OW!" She was now gripping the legs of the chair, just to keep herself from doing something really stupid, like reaching back to cover herself.
"And eating a tub of ice cream? You think so little of your body that you will disgrace it just to get a little comfort?"
"OW! Yes Sir! OOWWWWWW, I mean no Sir! OOOWWWIEEE!" Kerrie wailed from a prolonged volley of swats, which were starting to hurt almost as much as the words. Her master had a very effective way of scolding and always managed to make her feel ashamed.
Now came the best part of the otk position; the gentle rubbing. Firm hands soothing hot skin. Kerrie moaned softly, mentally urging his hands to explore a little lower. She spread her legs, hoping, wanting. She gasped when his fingers brushed the silky smoothness of her vulva, then cried out when he slapped it.
"Ow!" She pouted. That wasn't what she wanted. At least not right now.
"Have you made your choice?"
"Yes Sir," she replied. She didn't bother to inform him that she was finalizing the choice as she spoke. The hand spanking was just a warm-up: the actual punishment would be with some sort of whip or paddle. Per their custom, he let her choose the implement. On most occasions, he accepted her choice.
Earlier that day she had promised herself that she would ask for the cane. It had been used in the first punishment he had given her five years earlier, so it would be fitting to be used in the last. All she had to do was call its name. It would do her good to carry the marks it would cause. Just say it, she urged herself.
"The crop," she said instead, and instantly hated herself for chickening out.
"Very well," Harry said, accepting her choice. He had considered her infractions to be relatively minor and was expecting something less painful. He strived for consistency in how he wielded all the various implements, so she would always know what to expect when she made her choice. He wasn't going to take it easy on her just because he didn't think she deserved it. She obviously thought she deserved it, so he would give it to her. "Get up! I want you bent over the side of the bench."
"Yes Sir," Kerrie said as she scrambled to her feet, taking a moment to steady herself as the blood rushed out of her head. When the room had quit spinning, she made her way to the padded bench and bent over. Harry took a pair of soft fabric strips and used them to tie her wrists to eye bolts on the far side, forcing her arms spread wide, her torso resting on the padded surface. He wouldn't soften the blows any, but he would make it easier by securing her.
"You're 34 years old now," Harry reminded her. "You know what that means, right?"
"Yes Sir: 34 swats." She pulled firmly against the fabric holding her wrists, feeling an exhilaration that was the mix of fear, panic and helplessness that the bondage created.
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