Babydoll

 You wait patiently on a large black velvet loveseat dressed in a simple jade dress with your normal plunging neckline and loose short sleeves. The tattoos on your torso teasingly shown, and on your crossed legs you wear black stockings held up by a garter belt, leading down to low conservative heels. You wait, hands in your lap, for the knock you know will come.

Telltale footsteps sounded outside the door and a shy knock came, “Mommy?” a small voice called out.

“In here, Babydoll.” A pleasant smile softens your face as Vriska comes in with a cautious look as she catches sight of you. Yes, you smiling but you exuded an imposing aura. “Close the door, please.” As she turned to close it you get a complete 360 of her pure white baby-doll dress, her ponytail swhished behind her, held up with a cerulean ribbon. She sheepishly walked to you, head ducked, arms clasped behind her back. As she grew closer you your smile slips into a more serious expression. The blueblood noted the change in mood, and avidly avoided your withering gaze. You point in front of you, to which she quickly obeyed.

When she went to sit crossed-legged, you correct her with a sharp throat clearing. With an apologetic look, she sat more ladylike, dress neatly tucked under her. “Now, Vriska, your teacher called and told me something very…troubling.” She still refused to meet your eyes. “Vriska do you know what she told me?”

“Noooooooo.”

“She informed me that you were bullying the young Nitram boy.” Vriska merely grumbled. “What was that?” You sharp voice finally got her to look at you directly.

She hesitated but after seeing the warning in your face, she grumbled out “The dweeb told after all.”

“What did you do, Vriska?”

She eyed your fingers drumming against your thigh. “I, may have…called him a…few names…”

“Vriska...”

“And…I…pushed him off the jungle gym.” You said nothing, your mad and disappointed look saying everything. In response to the silence, she fidgeted.

“You do know what this means?”

“I have to apologize?”

You uncrossed your legs. “Of course; but you also will accept your punishment.” You point to your lap and she groans, but complies without further complaint. As she gets comfortable across your lap, you run your fingertips down her shoulders; the palm of your hand appreciates her lower back. You lift the hem of her dress over her waist and grope her bottom, drawing out anticipatory sighs. A quick smack and squeak rewards you. “Babydoll, why do you have to behave so badly?” She fidgets in your lap and you take delight in it, “How many strikes this time?” Hums fill the room while you mull it over. “Not only did you call this boy names, but you were physically violent and could have seriously hurt him.” Each offense makes her flinch, “Hmm, I’ve come to a decision: 40 by hand, 40 with the paddle, so 80 in all.”

You can see her excitement and you’ve yet to start, how eager she is. You bide your time just caressing her, you don’t even have to look at her face to know she’s getting impatient, but this is your game, not hers. And as expected she slowly relaxes, you strike, hard and fast; you savor her surprised yelp. “Come to think of it, your teacher also shared that you got low marks on your last math test. So count them.”

“One.” She replies with feigned confidence

“Good girl.” She blushes at the praise, and makes you smile at how transparent she is bent over your lap. “Let’s keep going.” You don’t keep your spanking consistent. Hard, soft, in succession or you take your time between each strike on the butt, the thighs, and sometimes you hit the inside of her knees. Vriska’s cries and shaky breaths as she yells out each number is getting you wet.