Betty's Humiliation

Betty had behaved herself comparatively well recently and Michael was delighted. The most likely reason was his investment in outside help for her discipline, which had taken the form of sessions with a spanking mentor called Jude, a charismatic man of whom she was in awe. At the end of every week without fail, she went to his home armed with her notebook of confessions. After a discussion and follow-up interrogation she was thoroughly scolded, and then spanked. The main punishment would be an over-the-knee bare-bottom hand spanking, but it was sometimes preceded by a whipping with a riding crop and once by a caning. He’d caned her because she’d lied to him about being late to work again and he already knew from other sources about her backsliding.

The caning had been particularly memorable. He only striped her bare bottom three times, but he told her to stay still and silent under pain of getting the number of strokes doubled. The control she’d had to exercise had stretched her capabilities to the utmost. In the end she’d been surprised at herself.

Michael was so pleased with Betty’s improved conduct that he took her out for a candlelit dinner to celebrate. He’d had to punish her on occasion, but it had consisted of a few swats on her clothed bottom – each of which corrections he felt confident she would declare to her mentor in order for it to be taken into account in her general disciplining.

Betty's Humiliation by Melissa Harding

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When they got home after their celebratory dinner and were preparing for bed in the romantic, dim lighting of their bedroom, Michael gave Betty the second part of her reward.

"I think you’re ready for a challenge,” he said, “so I’ve invited someone to stay with us.”

“Oh yes?” said Betty as she slid between the sheets in the lacy nightdress that Michael had bought for her. She imagined it might be his sister, who was always good for a laugh, or even his ancient grandmother whom she adored.

“It’s Aunt Beryl,” Michael continued, without even a ripple in his voice that might suggest he knew what a bombshell he was dropping.

Betty sat bolt upright. “No! You can’t! I mean she can’t!” she squeaked.

Aunt Beryl had always disapproved of her and somehow always managed to cause trouble for her. She’d ruined the first few hours of their honeymoon because, disrespecting her, Betty had incurred a roadside spanking, the first punishment of her married life. The insolent postcard which Betty hadn’t been able to resist addressing to her had been the main reason behind another spanking.

Michael came over to Betty’s side of the bed and perched on the edge. He looked handsome in his striped pyjamas, Betty thought; in fact he looked good in most clothes, although best without any at all …

“You have to respect my decisions,” Michael said firmly. “In my opinion it’s time for you to test your self-control in a difficult situation.”

“Does she really want to come, though?”

“Of course she does. She wants to help you.”

“Help me? Help me do what?”

“Achieve a smooth-running household. Look after me.”

“Why does she think I’m not managing?”

“You know her. She’ll always find some area that’s lacking.”

“When’s she coming?”

“The day after tomorrow.”

“What? And you’ve only just told me??!”

“I only finalised it with her today.”

“I think you’re an absolute beast. I can’t believe you’re doing this to me. I’ve half a mind to leave home and let you cope with your beloved aunt all by yourself.”

“That’s exactly the sort of attitude I hoped I’d seen the last of,” Michael snapped. He threw back the duvet and uncovered Betty’s cowering shape in her white nightdress. “Turn on your front,” he ordered her.

Betty rolled over and hid her face in the pillow, silently cursing Aunt Beryl for being the cause of yet another chastisement - and at the end of such a lovely evening, too!

Michael pulled the folds of the nightdress out from under Betty’s hips where they had become trapped when she turned over, then laid the silky material over her back so as to expose her bottom.

“We can make as much noise as we want,” he joked grimly, “since we’re alone in the house for the moment.”

He slapped Betty’s bottom hard and resoundingly with his open hand, first one buttock, then the other, and back again. Betty’s instinct was to put her hand across her bottom to protect it but she knew of old that this wasn’t a good idea: Michael would pinion her and it was likely that he’d extend the punishment because of her resistance. So she lay there, feeling the sympathetic bounce of the mattress under her with each stinging slap and the build-up of warmth in her flesh. She accepted the spanking as inevitable but she couldn’t make herself acknowledge that it was merited. Her rebellious mind-set somehow made the whole experience more painful.

“You’ll be on your very best behaviour or,” Michael said, pausing briefly in his castigation, “there’ll be plenty more of this and I won’t be caring about the noise.”

Betty was sobbing into the pillow before he’d finished. She would have a sore bottom next day but it wasn’t because of that. It was because she knew her good behaviour hadn’t represented a complete change: she’d fooled herself. She wasn’t nearly as good a wife as she’d believed.

The rain of slaps finished with a grand finale that made Betty squirm and cry out and then it was over. Michael examined the red buttocks he’d created before dropping the nightdress over them and covering Betty up with the duvet.

As he slid into bed beside her he said: “That’s one for you to tell Jude. He’ll be very disappointed in you, I would imagine.”

Yes, Betty thought, that was the worst of it. Jude believed she’d turned a corner, and when he found out she’d regressed, he’d assume she’d been putting on some sort of an act unless she could persuade him that her own feelings had taken her by surprise. If she couldn’t persuade him, if he didn’t listen, then this episode would have further and probably far more painful consequences.

Betty's Humiliation by Melissa Harding

Buy now in Kindle, Epub or PDF format for only $1.59