Desolate fantasies

Last night before I went to sleep I had the following fantasy. In it I was playing with friends of mine and I took a lot of liberties with their characters, making them do things they probably wouldn't do, especially the last part!

I also took liberties with myself because the incident leading up to the punishment is absolutely not something I'd ever do, and I even blush writing it! But isn't that what fantasies are about?

Anyway the whole point of it was that the scene didn't end in nice comforting hugs, but with me alone in tears. It's actually a recurring fantasy of mine that I'm not sure I'd ever like to act out but I find the idea very hot. Punished and shamed to tears. Left alone to contemplate my actions. Being left in desolation.

I was coming to stay with Mr and Mrs Friend for the weekend but had given them the wrong flight details. So Mr Friend was left waiting at the airport for me for more than two hours while Mrs Friend was at home having made a nice dinner which was slowly going to ruin.

I wasn't the least bit apologetic that my failure to give accurate flight times had inconvenienced everyone else. I was practically belligerent about it. Nor did I apologise to Mrs Friend for ruining dinner or thank her for her efforts. In short I was being a horrible bitch.

So Mr and Mrs Friend decided I needed teaching a serious lesson in manners. I was hauled upstairs and forced over the desk in Mr Friend's study. Then Mr and Mrs Friend took in turns to hold me down while the other applied a senior cane to my bottom. Hard.

At first I kicked and struggled and yelled blue murder. But pretty soon I was too busy trying to cope with the onslaught of cane strokes to struggle too much. They had both swapped over several times before the tears came. And shortly afterwards I was babbling my apologies and begging them to stop. But they didn't.

I have no idea how many strokes I'd had when they did eventually stop. All I was conscious of was the burning, throbbing pain. Ordered to stand in front of them I was asked once more to apologise, which I did, trying to control my tears. A moment of silence before a curt nod from Mr Friend and I was ordered to bed with the warning I had better behave myself for the rest of my visit.

Alone in my room I lay on my stomach, carefully touching my welted bottom. And cried myself to sleep.