Nancy's Woodshed Strapping - Part 2

Continued from: Nancy earns a trip to the Woodshed

True to her word and her style of administering humiliation with punishment, Mistress left Nancy, padlocked into the woodshed pillory for the full 15 minutes she had planned on. 

Nancy could feel the cool breeze from the open door, cascade against her predominately bare legs and gust up under her vulnerable little gingham dress. She couldn't hide her protruding bum, she couldn't turn to see if the neighbours were gathering on the sidewalk to watch her strapping. She was so very humiliated and so involuntarily wet!

When Mistress Andrea finally returned she ran a hand over the pleats of Nancy's dress, snugging it across her bottom as she began to speak in a soothing and caring tone. 

"Nancy huni. Did your Daddy punish you like this in the barn?"

There was a pause, as Nancy's emotions rose to the surface. 

"Yes Ma'am", she squeaked out, holding back tears as her voice hitched. 

"I don't imagine he used a bondage pillory though did he?”

“Ummm…I was draped over an old wooden sawhorse Ma’am and my wrists and ankles tied off to the legs with old horse-tack, leather binds”. 

“Were you permitted clothing during your strappings?” Mistress quietly asked. 

Nancy’s thoughts returned to those childhood memories and the old fashioned manner in which she was raised. Being taken out to the barn for serious misbehaviour, being taken over the knee by her parents for more minor offences and spending plenty of time in the corner of the family room.

Nancy then squeaked out a shameful, “Not fully Ma’am. Daddy used to march me out to the barn in just my training bra and panties.” 

Her face burned with embarrassment. Having to tell the much younger and pert Dominatrix such private details of her strict upbringing. 

"Well in that case", Mistress declared in a cocky tone. "Lets get you out of that dress!'

The latches to the pillory were undone and Nancy was allowed to briefly rub her wrists and massage her neck, before Mistress lifted her arms in the air like child, and pulled the dress up over her head and off her body.

Nancy was secured back into the punishment pillory, now in just her virginal, white cotton panties and bra. The knee socks and ballet flats stayed on, to add to her humiliation. The next thing she could hear was the jingle of that belt buckle as it was retrieved from the display hook and doubled over. 

"Young lady!" Mistress' tone became strict. 

"You're long overdue for a good belting and a sound strapping. It has been way too long!” 

Before Nancy had a chance to plead for mercy or respond, Mistress spoke again. 

"...and you will call me Daddy, is that understood young lady?"

"Bu-but Mistress". She stammered and paused, her confusion quickly interrupted by the jingle of the belt buckle, followed by a…

*SNAP*

The belt sizzled across her panties with a dull crack that echoed inside the shed. 

"Yes Daddy!! I understand!" Nancy cried out. 

The first 25 lashes over her panties was just to return the warmup and glow. The warmup that had already been established when Nancy was draped over Mistress' knee. It was steady, but mild enough that Nancy could remain aware of where she was, who might be hearing or seeing this and the manner in which she was presented and dressed. 

"Daddy!! Noooo!"

Mistress hiked her little knickers down and off and hung them on a hook were the belt had been hanging. She surveyed the state of her bum with her palm.  

"Young lady. I'm going to give you another 15 with Daddy's belt. Then you will be getting the strap".

"Daddy please no! I'll be a good girl for you!" Nancy mewed. 

"I know you will young lady. Every time you sit down for the next week, you'll remember to be a good little girl for Daddy".

Nancy groaned with embarrassment. She was a middle-aged woman! Not a little girl anymore. The embarrassment and scolding made her delicate petals betray her even more. She could feel the sheen on her inner thighs, hoping "Daddy" wouldn't notice. "Daddy", however, could see it ALL, on full display. Even noting that Nancy, surprising for her age, kept her pussy shaved completely bald and smooth.

After the 15 additional lashes the belt was returned to the hook on the woodshed wall. The wide and heavy leather strap came next. Loud echoed cracks, heavy blubbering and sobbing, and a grown woman crying out, "I'm sorry Daddy, I'll be a good girl", is what the neighbourhood must have heard that afternoon.

The sobbing Nancy, was released from the pillory and pulled in for a comforting hug. She nuzzled her face into the flannel lumber shirt Mistress wore, to dry her tears and survey the sidewalk she could now see. Her eyes darting from left to right, scanning for people. When she saw none, she nuzzled back into Mistress' shoulder and continued to weep. 

"Thank you Daddy", she sniffled out.

Mistress cupped her hands over Nancy's pigtails and gently pulled her close, kissing her forehead. 

"You know this was for your own good, right little one?"

"Yes Daddy, I'll do better. I'll be a good girl for you". Nancy crackled out, as emotion welled up once again and weeping turned into sobbing.

Nancy was permitted a short moment of rubbing and to compose herself, before Mistress told her to place her hands on her head.

"Now, go down to your knees young lady", Mistress commanded. 

It was becoming dusk outside, so Mistress lit the old oil lamp before moving herself toward the shed door. 

"I will be back to get you in one hour young lady. You are not to move from this position or you will be back in the pillory and Daddy's belt will be coming off once again, is that understood?"

Nancy moaned in shameful defeat. A groan that could have been mistaken for passionate arousal. 

"Mmmmmpft* “Yes Daddy".

All became quiet for her, as Mistress left her to her thoughts. Her focus switched between her burning bare bottom and the white noise of a residential neighbourhood. 

There were distant giggles of children playing. The ringing of dog collars being walked on lead and the odd car noises. She was nervously waiting for the gasp of a neighbourhood mother, or the leering eyes of a young husband, who happened to catch a glimpse of her humiliating predicament. 

The next hour would be long, and boring. A rollercoaster of emotions. Nancy couldn't decide what was throbbing more intensely, her strapped bare bottom or her pulsating clit. Her brain was telling her to die of embarrassment, but was being overruled by her pussy, that already longed for Mistress Andrea.