Breaking

I have been horribly misbehaved recently. I've been angry and my feelings have been hurt and I've used both as an excuse to be a pugnacious little devil. I've sassed and bratted and blatantly disregarded direct instruction. Never before in my life have I been so willfully disobedient. Sparing you the gory details, and me the embarrassment - let me just say that today, he put me firmly back in my place... with his belt.

Rebellious as I've been, of course I fought at first. He came over, we talked and ate some lunch, and he told me in as calm a voice as can be,

"I am going to break you today."


*gulp*

I defiantly shook my head in disapproval.

"Oh yes," he chuckled, "and I'm going to use my belt. You need to be punished for your unabashed brattiness. It's gone too far, you've crossed the line; and I will not allow it to continue."

His voice became stern and the look in his eye turned cold. Not callous or unaffected, just cold. He was going to break me. I could see it in his eyes. I struggled. I refused to hold still over his knee. I kicked and squirmed and pleaded.

"Ow. Ok. Ow. Ok honey, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please. Ow. Ok. Ok. Ow!" I cried out, reaching my hands back in a futile attempt to cover my bare cheeks, kicking and squirming more.

He's naturally much stronger than me and can easily overpower me in that position. Pinning me to his lap, he smacked away at my bare, and by now pinkened, bum. My struggling continued and eventually he grew tired of my fighting. He threw me off his knee, next to him on the couch. I smiled in response to my faux success only to be scooped up off my feet and over his shoulder. Brat that I am, I smacked away at his backside as he carried me like a sack of potatoes into the bedroom. Tossing me to the bed, he turned to get the belt off the back of the door (which is where it usually lives). It wasn't there so he went to the next logical location, the closet.

"It's not there either!" I called after him, giggling to myself.

"Fetch me the belt," he commanded as he walked back into the room, clutching the tawse. "Now!"

He began swinging the tawse at me. Thrashing me relentlessly, he asserted his willingness to just use that until I produced the implement he sought. Reluctantly getting up, I dug through the laundry basket to find the jeans it was last worn with. And he proceeded to smack the tawse against my flesh as I pulled the belt from the belt loops. You see, not only have I been disobedient, I've been neglecting my chores.

"Kneel and present it to me properly."

I hesitated.

*SMACK*

"I said, kneel and present it to me properly brat!"

Falling to my knees, I carefully folded and raised the belt in my hands. I obeyed, though I didn't bow my head. I kept my eyes on his, in my own quietly defiant way.

The first few whacks were shocking. It's been awhile since I've taken a good belting, and I could tell by the hits that he was planning on making up for the lost time. He didn't warm me, but he was careful to not overwhelm me too quickly. I resisted. I moved. I cried out. I covered myself with my shaking hands. I pleaded for mercy. All I got from him was a smirk. I watched in the armoire mirror as he continued to lay into me with the thick leather. Loud belt smacks interspersed with "ow's" filled the room. He'd closed the bedroom door and at the time I wasn't sure why but I now know it was because the belt is loud, and he was hoping to spare the neighbors.

According to him it took me longer than usual before I surrendered myself to the beating. Which secretly pleased him. He loves beating the willful defiance out of me. And the longer it takes, the more I challenge him, the more it turns him on. I'm not sure how long it took, but eventually he reached his goal. He broke the brat in me. She yielded,

"Uncle."

And now this is one of the best things about beltings for us... once we reach the point where the pain turns to pleasure and the pleadings turn to coos, we can go forever. He can hit me with his full force, repeatedly, and with quick succession, and I just take it. I hold position. His eyes lock with mine. We smile at each other. He beats, I get beat. It's pure heaven. It's as intimate for us as sex, perhaps even more so at times.