2 | Defiance Discipline Dream Repeat

72 Sunday Spankings M/F - Sophia's POV

Sebastian and I are out doing our bland Sunday grocery shopping. But something that makes this occasion a little bit more exciting than other times is that the shops have brought out the Holiday treats and sweets. Oh, my days, I'm like a child on Christmas morning!

We have collected a few kinds of sweets - the least Christmassy ones, as it is a bit early. That's what Sebastian claims, anyway. He also thinks we had enough bakeries and sweets this weekend and leftovers at home from yesterday's little celebration of Michael. I don't agree. I'd eat all of this any day of the year. And expectedly, this has gotten us into a hushed quarrel in the middle of the shop.

''...I said: We will get this later,'' Sebastian enunciates in a whisper, taking the pack of sweets from me to put back on the shelf.

''Why? They sell these now!'' I moan, kicking the floor lightly - I don't wish to make a scene in public.

He gives me his typical uncompromising look. ''Because I say so. We will get these later, and that's it,'' he declares.

My gaze focuses on the items he put in the trolley, and as he re-focuses on his business, I snatch his pack of biscuits and take off with a mischievous giggle. At this moment, I'm too high on brattiness to care about what other shoppers think of my antics.

I find a hiding spot in another section of the extensive shop - a good one, according to me. However, Sebastian finds me fast. Too fast. Embarrassingly fast. Within 10 minutes, I have been caught behind a clothing rack.

''We better go home and deal with your bratty ass,'' Sebastian whispers dominantly, his gaze piercing me from above, and I shrink a little in my spot. Nonetheless, I smirk and walk ahead of him.

--

The excitement of what is; to happen at home grew in the car as I teased him on our way... And now, we're finally here!

His fingers pinch my chin, and his eyes fix on mine. I almost feel like I can't move my gaze when eye contact has been attained. ''Snatching cookies and running away?''

''Yeah,'' I smile proudly.

''No,'' he states. ''That earned you a thorough spanking.''

I shake my head, ''No,'' my smirk blazing whilst my face warms up.

Without much effort, he takes me to his bedroom. I squeal during the way there and yelp as I tumble on his bed, and then I'm quickly hauled across his lap and pinned in place. Fast enough that I barely have time to register it until I am struck with the first smack.

Another thing that is expected is me giving him a struggle. I writhe and flail the best I can with the limited freedom I have. I know that it is all in vain by now, but I will never give up, not in these scenarios when the bratty energy possesses me.

With time and countless spanks, I become stiller, and when he stops and allows me to get up, I lie like a dead fish across his lap for a couple of moments.

Did you believe this was over, like me?

He acknowledges that I have a 'swift recovery' and that I am in need of more impact. The brat requires a lot to be defeated, you know. He directs me onto the bed, but not to rest - only to position myself on all fours.

The sound of him picking out a leather belt from his closet sends shivers up my spine, arising from excitement and nervousness. I can still sense the warmth his palm stirred up earlier when the first hit with the leather lands. The second lash prods a rude yap out of me, and the belt continues to do so as he delivers more strikes - with proficiency and a stable rhythm. I whimper, and my hips shift back and forth, and left and right throughout it.

It is in these situations I regret teasing him for being too gentle or even complaining about it, which is something I've done lately. I told him that he's a softie when it comes to wielding belts and that the canings he will give out are much worse. He's not unduly harsh or mad, but the result of this will stay with me for the rest of the day.

''...That will suffice,'' he remarks. ''Or what do you say? Is the bratty energy under control?''

Though I cannot see my own face when I bury it in a pillow, I can assure you that it is glowing red. ''Yes,'' I reply breathlessly.

''Good. I consider you are in a suitable mood for cuddles now,'' he says smugly. ''Let's get you into something comfy before we go downstairs.''

--

It's Monday morning and the morning after yesterday's bratty antics, followed by cuddles on the sofa. Sebastian had my breakfast prepared when I woke up this morning. And now, it's all eaten up.

''I have a little treat for you,'' he says, and I watch him eagerly yet with scepticism, taking something out of the pantry. ''Because you were so sweet last night.''

He hands me one of the Christmas candy bags he wouldn't buy yesterday. ''Thank youuuu,'' I coo.

''You're welcome. Don't eat too many of those before school.''

''I won't,'' I smile a little naughtily - more on instinct rather than consciously...