Her Shameful Lesson (Shamefully Courted) Read online

  He’s going to whip me. Jim said he’s going to whip me, in these naughty, sexy panties.

  “Oh, God,” she whispered, her hips moving lewdly, rubbing her pussy against her hand, trying to make the wicked feeling get more intense, knowing the release she had never felt must be awaiting her somewhere up ahead.

  I’m getting a whipping, and there’s nothing I can do about it. And when Jim finds me doing this, looking at the panties instead of wearing them… playing with my pussy instead of obeying his commands…

  “Carly, honey, what are you doing?”

  She knew the voice had come from outside her, from behind her, but it might as well have come from the mixture of reality and fantasy in her head, the terrible, shameful story that drove her fingers’ wicked rubbing. The story of a naughty girl who knew she needed to obey her husband, and to serve him sexually exactly as he pleased, and to wear sexy panties that made her blush… and yet who pretended she didn’t, and stole the panties as a cry for help, for the application to her bare bottom of the firm guidance she needed.

  The voice had authority in it—loving authority, but also stern authority, and well-justified frustration. Carly turned to see him standing there with his belt doubled in his hand just as she started to come, crying out in need and fear at the sight of her husband’s all-too-clear readiness to punish her as she so richly deserved.

  Every doubt as to whether what he had found on the New Modesty ‘Marriage Academy’ site applied to him vanished from Jim’s mind. He turned on the bedroom light just as Carly cried out in a way she never had with his cock inside her. As their eyes met, she bit her lip, and he watched the full realization that her husband could see her clearly in the act of self-pleasure dawn in her eyes and drive her to new heights of shameful ecstasy.

  She had turned to look at him, still bent over the bed, her right hand still between her thighs. Her jeans were around her knees and she had parted them for better access to her pussy. He could see her fingers still moving inside the blue panties, which had a huge wet spot. Her hips bounced in her effort to milk more pleasure from her clit, and Jim even got a glimpse of her sweet bare pussy lips, so untidily had she pulled her underwear aside.

  As what seemed the first crest of her orgasm left her body, Jim took a deep breath through his nostrils. The fragrance of Carly’s naughtiness—the rich, musky smell of which he had only gotten little whiffs on their sexy mornings—came to his senses so strongly that his cock jumped in his own jeans.

  Again he saw in his wife’s eyes the effect on her of his sight of her lewd conduct, his understanding of her wanton needs. She gave a cry when she realized that he had caught the scent of her wet, ready pussy, and her fingers moved even more urgently between her legs. Her knees bounced and, with the hardness growing ever greater against his thigh, Jim watched his wife come again at the sight of her husband with his belt in his hand, fully prepared to teach her the terrible lesson she had earned.

  You probably won’t need to send your wife to a Marriage Academy class, if you follow a few helpful guidelines when disciplining her. Every New Modesty authority office does run regular courses with trained instructors, though, so if you’re having trouble training your wife you have an option. If you send her to a Marriage Academy class, though, rest assured that what she’ll learn is the same ‘curriculum’ you can teach her at home, using our suggestions.

  Jim had no intention of sending Carly to the NM Authority office to take a class. The guidelines he had read quickly through in the car, though, made sense to him, in light of what Carly had done at the intimates store, and the way she had acted at the police station.

  Here in the bedroom they made even more sense now that he saw how badly Carly needed his firm hand.

  Taking his thick jeans belt off, doubling it, and curling it around his hand as soon as he had come through the door had represented his following the first guideline: Make it completely clear to her that she’s got a real punishment coming.

  Really, Jim hadn’t thought he would have any use for the fourth guideline, Control her pleasure. Now, however, it seemed at least as important as the first, in helping him give Carly what she had coming.

  She still hadn’t responded to his question. Not that his wife had left him in any doubt whatsoever as to the nature of her naughty fingers’ activity between her thighs—but Carly’s failure to answer gave Jim the cue he needed. His natural dominance, and above all its powerful connection to his libido, told him precisely what to do.

  On their wedding night, when his bride had come to bed in those cotton panties, and when she had broken the dryer, Jim hadn’t listened to that part of himself. Now he didn’t intend to disregard his urge to master his wife any longer; he took two swift steps forward and put his left hand atop her back just at the moment Carly tried to rise from her bent-over posture.

  She gave a cry of fear as she saw what her husband did next: looking straight into her eyes, he raised his right hand, with the belt wrapped around his fist. The loop of stiff leather hung above and behind her pretty bottom, ready to punish her for her shoplifting and her disobedience—and, Jim found himself thinking, simply to teach his bride that her husband knew what she needed. If that meant a weekly whipping to make sure she told him what kind of panties she thought a young bride should wear, rather than trying to steal them—regular discipline for no other reason than to keep her in line, as the Marriage Academy site suggested—he would do it.

  She tried again to rise then to squirm away, but Jim easily took hold of her right hip, under her shirt, and pinned her tightly against his lap. His cock jumped at the contact, even through his jeans. The mingled fear and need in Carly’s eyes, as she twisted her head from side to side as if to get a clear look at the belt menacing her disobedient backside, gave him another cue; he had her attention now, and he had to use it for her benefit as much as he could—as well as his own.

  He brought the belt down, but not hard. Instead he laid it without force across her panty-covered bottom, and spoke softly, though with all the authority he could muster in his tone.

  “I’m not going to whip you now, Carly,” he said.

  His wife’s eyes went wide, and he knew that the paradoxical disappointment would appear in an instant—her almost certainly unconscious feeling that her husband had let her down by not showing as much dominance as he should. This time, he didn’t mean to let that happen.

  “I’m going to spank you now, over my knee, for disobeying me and not putting on the panties you stole.”

  Carly gave a little cry and tried to squirm out of his grasp again, this time with more force, but Jim had no trouble controlling her and keeping her in position.

  “Then,” he continued, “you’re going to put on the panties, and I’m going to whip you over this bed, wearing them.”

  Chapter 6

  Carly heard a louder, more frightened cry, break from her chest. Her whole body shuddered, but she didn’t struggle; she hung her head down, and he could hear her breath coming in ragged little pants, as if from another person. The part of her that felt like herself, the part down there, got so needy that despite all her fear at what Jim might do—or maybe because of that fear?—her fingers started to move again over the tiny, tingling bud of her clit.

  “Stop that,” Jim said, his voice so much sharper that Carly whimpered in fear as she felt his left hand reach all the way under her tummy to grab her wrist and pull her own hand away from her pussy. At the same time, his other hand—the one with the belt wrapped around it—went between her legs from behind.

  His fingers, so long and so strong claimed her, inside her soaking panties. The leather of the belt pressed there, too, and the combination of sensations, together with her husband’s terrifying words, turned the whimper into a sob. Carly tried again to get away from Jim’s grasp, but her body seemed even more conflicted than it had when he had first seized her by her naked hips and held her close to his denim-covered lap.

  Jim’s fingertips pres
sed roughly on her clit, fluttering there, making the sob at last become a moan.

  “Oh…” Carly managed to say in that moan. “Oh, please… what… Jim, please…”

  And then it just came out. The word she realized she had had in the back of her mind at the intimates store—no, the one that had been there since their wedding night… or maybe since the first time their eyes had met at the coffee shop.

  “Sir… sir, please… please don’t whip me.”

  She heard him make a noise in his throat, a kind of cross between a grunt and a growl. She felt his hips move, and she understood suddenly with a new rush of heat that seemed to go from her face to her swollen clit that her submission had aroused her husband the same way it had aroused her.

  “This,” Jim growled, his fingertips moving even more urgently, the leather pressing against her bottom, through the cotton panties even more firmly, “belongs to me.”

  Carly started to come, for the second time in her life, but so much more powerfully now that she understood why girls experiencing climax for the first time sometimes thought they might be dying. Her whole body, given over to her husband’s strong grip, seemed to come apart with pleasure, and she screamed, “Sir… sir… sir.”

  “That’s right, sweetheart,” Jim said, as he started to move her into a different position. Carly’s limbs felt like jelly, and he had no trouble moving her, though for long moments she had no idea of what posture he meant to put her in. “You’ll call me sir from now on.”

  That sent a shudder through Carly’s body, and made her start to tense again, a little, in fear of what she suddenly understood her dominant husband meant to do. But Jim overcame her fearful squirming with ease, and he had sat down on the edge of the bed, turning Carly so that he could lay her down over his knee with her face in the covers.

  “Oh, God,” she whispered, when she felt his left hand move her wrist to pinion it behind her back, and his right leg go over the backs of her knees.

  Only then did he take the hand with the belt away from her pussy. Carly let out a forlorn little cry; it just felt so good to have her husband touch her down there. She felt a surge of heat to her cheeks when she realized she only had herself to blame that she hadn’t had it there more often; the discreetly applied lube had let her say, “I’m ready,” and raise her knees as soon as Jim had put his hand under her nightgown on their sexy mornings.

  Sexy mornings, she thought, her voice scornful in her head. She almost laughed out loud, but Jim had begun to move his upper body in an unexpected way—almost the opposite of what Carly had expected, if he meant to raise his right hand, and…

  “Open your eyes, sweetheart,” she heard his voice say from high above her. Carly only realized then how tightly she had closed them. At the same moment, Jim gave her the reason to open her eyes, because she felt something land with a slight jingle right in front of her face.

  She knew before she saw the belt there what she would find, but the actual sight of the coiled leather, wide and black, and the silver buckle, made her cry out softly. At the same moment, she felt Jim put his hand in the waistband of the blue cotton panties and do what he hadn’t done on their wedding night, because Jim Williams was a kind, understanding husband.

  Carly’s panties came down. She had stolen, and she had disobeyed, and now she would receive the bare-bottom lesson she deserved. In Jim, she had indeed found a kind, understanding husband; it had taken a couple of months, but he had finally understood that his young bride needed a firm hand on her pretty bottom, to keep her in line.

  “I want you to look at my belt while I spank you for the first time, Carly,” he said now, in a calm, even voice that still made her heart jump with alarm. “You’ve earned a whipping, and you’re going to get it, but first I need to make clear to you that from now on you will obey me when I tell you to put on something sexy for me, and you will not touch your pussy without permission.”

  Carly blinked at that, feeling her brows knit in confusion. It almost sounded like Jim cared more about the panties, and her not taking off her clothes to put them on—and her playing with herself—than he did about the stealing.

  As if to confirm that idea, the panties landed in front of her face, next to the belt. Another wave of heat came to Carly’s face at the sight of the things together: crime and punishment.

  “I know what you need, Carly Williams,” Jim said in a low voice, and he put his hand on her bottom, so possessively that she gave a little whimper as if to confirm his words. “And you’re going to get it, from now on.”

  His hand left her backside, and Carly cried out, because she knew what would happen next. She struggled out of pure instinct, but her husband held her tightly down over his knee, and he began to spank her, hard and fast.

  Jim supposed he had expected, based on what he had read on the New Modesty site, that Carly would respond to his dominant touch. He had certainly not expected her to respond to every word and every bodily movement with such obvious—though blushing and squirming—arousal.

  Now, though, he knew he had the difficult but necessary task of spanking that arousal away.

  Spank her hard, read one of the guidelines, and, when you have to, whip her soundly. Make sure she can’t sit comfortably for a good long while.

  This is one of the hardest things for a New Modesty husband to learn, but you’re dealing with a girl who needs two separate but related things: submissive sex and firm discipline. A lot of the time even we New Modesty experts will put those things together, just to make things a little simpler, and we’ll talk about sexual discipline. There’s more to it than that, though. Especially if you’re punishing her for masturbation, as we advise you do, spank hard enough that she doesn’t feel she’s being rewarded! Remember that you’re not punishing her to make her feel good about what she did—even if it’s just a weekly Sunday night spanking to teach your new wife respect for your authority in your house.

  Punishment is punishment: your bride relies on you to teach her those lessons she asks for with her naughty actions, when she can’t ask in words. When you’re delivering a message to her bare backside, do both of you a favor and deliver it clearly, so she doesn’t end up right back over your knee—or over the family whipping stool.

  The first few swats Jim gave Carly now clearly didn’t quite measure up to the standard he quickly developed, but from the beginning he did spank his wife hard. His big hand rose and fell in a quick rhythm, moving from right to left and up and down so that he swiftly turned Carly’s whole adorable backside pink, as she squirmed desperately in his grasp.

  He thought at the very start that her cries of pain and then her pleading for him to stop might make him relent, but something about the way Carly responded to this first real discipline of her life instead confirmed Jim in his decision. Each sob, and each lewd clench of her bottom-cheeks, strengthened his resolve to make certain his wife understood that from henceforth she would obey him. Whether he warned her not to put the wet towels in the dryer or he instructed her to put on sexy panties, Carly Williams would do as she was told, or, yes indeed, she would take another painful trip over her husband’s knee.

  “Please,” Carly sobbed, her head twisting from side to side as if to keep from looking at the belt and the panties. “Please, Jim… stop!”

  Her bottom felt very warm under his hand as he kept up the rain of swats for ten more sharp spanks. Carly’s body heaved with sobs over his knee, and Jim could see that the blue comforter beneath her face had grown wet with tears. He rested his hand atop her round, pink cheeks, taking both the little apples into his gentle grasp. He felt his hardness stir along his thigh as he rubbed the little bottom, and he took his hand away for a moment so that he could obey another guideline from the Marriage Academy.

  Enjoy yourself when you’re disciplining her. Don’t feel guilty about how it makes you feel to bare your girl’s bottom and give her what she needs. You’re her husband, and her body belongs to you, after all. Take the time to let your
own arousal build, and look at what you want to look at—and touch what you want to touch, as long as you remember our guideline about spanking her hard.

  He looked down at Carly’s pussy, its sweet cleft peeping out just a little between her legs. Jim didn’t think he had ever felt anything quite as arousing—well, while his jeans were still on, anyway. Having his gorgeous, wonderful wife over his knee, with her blue panties and her jeans around her knees, her bottom offered for her husband’s justice… in that moment, Jim knew he could reconcile the hardness of his cock with his duty to guide Carly in becoming a good woman and a good wife.

  “Please, sir,” she whimpered quietly, all resistance gone from her body.

  “Stand up, sweetheart,” Jim said, letting his instincts take over. “Stand in front of me.”

  He helped her off his knee and stood her between his legs, holding her hands in his. Carly kept her head bowed at first, her blonde hair disheveled around her face and her cheeks wet with tears. Her bare pussy pouted so enticingly between her thighs that Jim almost decided to save her whipping for later.

  This first time, though, he wanted to get it exactly right.

  Be clear, the New Modesty site said. Make certain she understands how she ended up with her panties down for discipline.

  “Why did I punish you?” he asked. “Look at me.”

  Carly raised her face to his, her eyes wide and a little wild. With the blush in her cheeks, her color nearly matched the rosy hue he had turned her bottom. Her lips parted as if to answer, but then she took the lower one in her teeth, and her brow furrowed deeply.