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She cursed her body for its excited response to his offer. Her pussy was soaking. “How often?” she asked. “I could not tolerate such a beating every night.” It was a stupid idea. Instead, she left and went to her usual coffee shop for a coffee and a panini before her bar shift. Perhaps he always does it. Perhaps all the girls in the company have had a spanking from him. He does keep spanking implements in his office. Then the woodshed whuppin evolved again. It still means getting one of the worst spankings of my life, but now she’s expanded beyond just using the belt and razor strap. Sometimes it is just the belt, sometimes it is a paddle or water soaked cane (one of the worse things ever), and sometimes it is a combination of 2 or 3 of her meanest implements. It just depends on what she feels like using that day or night. But no matter what she decides on using, it still remains a punishment, deterrent and attitude adjustment that will be remembered for a while. First things first: You must negotiate and communicate with your partner about what you both desire from the experience. "For my clients who want to be slapped, or spanked with a paddle, I prefer they start the conversation days before the actual event itself," Richmond says. She suggests an in-person conversation to discuss what you both want and what is off-limits.

He nodded, and she retrieved the nipple clamps she had taken from his attic and forgotten about. Mr Larson smiled, taking them from her. “You have earned an extra few strokes for stealing my property.”

Layla worked hard and did not speak to Mr Larson for the rest of the day. At the end of the day, she changed into her bar uniform and saw that he was still in his office. Everyone else had left, and she considered going to his office. Not a piece of paper, no,” he said sternly. “I mean the type of discipline that you will feel every time you sit down for a week. The type you will remember.”

Mr Larson led them from his car to the picnic area and carried a hamper with him. He met several people he knew.

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He didn’t respond, and instead, he led her up the stairs to the attic. Layla was relieved to find he wasn’t leading her to a dungeon. The attic held a metal-framed bed that had wrist and ankle restraints fitted. There was also a desk, a bench, and various odd-shaped chairs that had restraints attached, and a metal frame that looked to be used for restraining a person who stood. Layla burned with shame as she felt the moistness between her legs. She was laid over a desk receiving a beating from her boss, but she found the experience intensely erotic. She cursed her body its betrayal. Larson,” a man named Chad Holmes called. “My good man, it has been too long. And who do we have here?”