hey its been a minute. enjoy spanked bottoms.
Annabelle was dragging her feet through the heavy inches of snow as she followed Pearl to the Salvatore Boarding House. A sharp swat to her seat improved her posture, but she was still pouting. A few centuries ago, Pearl would have corrected her behavior weeks ago, but she was trying to give Annabelle space after she'd proven herself more than capable while they were separated.
Lately, she'd been proving to be quite the spoilt brat.
Damon was not happy to see Pearl and Annabelle in the doorway. "What do you want?" Damon asked.
Pearl brushed passed him and her daughter followed. "I'm concerned by the weather."
Damon folded his arms. "Call the weatherman and let him know." He tilted his head to the door. "Now, leave."
"It's too early in the year for ice storms," Pearl said. She pressed her lips together and brushed off some snow on her skirt. "I think there might be a supernatural cause."
"Or," Damon drew out the word with exaggerated gestures of his arms, "global warming."
"That's what I said," Annabelle muttered under her breath.
On instinct, Pearl grabbed her daughter's elbow and started to spank her little behind. Annabelle tried to avoid her mother's hand, which only sealed her fate.
"Mama," she said, "I'm sorry!"
Pearl's mind would not be changed. "I've given you enough warnings." She swatted her rear a few more times. Annabelle squirmed, but each of Pearl's smacks landed where she intended: on the seat of her disobedient and mouthy daughter's trousers.
"Not here," Annabelle pleaded. Pearl paused. Annabelle eyes were watering, and her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. She tilted her head toward Damon. "Pease, Mama. Wait until we get home."
"I will give you a proper spanking at home." Annabelle tried to step away, but Pearl grabbed her again and pulled her close. She bent her daughter in half and wrapped an arm around her middle. Then she began to hit with purpose. "You know better than to run away from while I'm disciplining you."
Apparently, she'd forgotten. Annabelle wiggled around. But it was in vain, Pearl didn't miss a beat. Each time she brought her hand down, she hit home. She spanked her daughter with firm, crisp smacks that echoed proudly. She was determined to bring her daughter to heel.
"This is a warmup," Pearl said as Annabelle squirmed. "I expect you to comply when I correct you, young lady."
It was a battle of wills. A brat of a child against a determined mother. But there was no question of who would win. Pearl's hand rained down powerful blows. Her arm was tireless as she smacked her daughter. Annabelle squirming did nothing but make Pearl more determined.
After about a minute of consistent correction, Annabelle's shoulder slumped as she stilled.
Pearl kept spanking her. The fight was not over until her daughter verbally submitted. She was in no hurry. Annabelle came before anyone else. She'd speak with Damon after her daughter had been given the attentive love she needed.
"I'm sorry," Annabelle said after Pearl had taken to smack her lower left cheek on the same spot over and over again. Pearl wasn't nearly finished hitting that cheek. "Mama, please! I won't fight anymore."
"Good," Pearl said. She kept spanking. "Lift up your hips."
Miserably, Annabelle did as she was told. Pearl enjoyed easy access to where she was punishing and kept it up for some minutes. Annabelle was apologizing, but Pearl paid her no mind. She had a butt to tan.
"Are you going to obey me?" Pearl asked after her palm started to sting a little.
"Yes, ma'am," Annabelle said.
Pearl stopped spanking. She turned to Damon, who was now lounged on the couch and looking faintly amused. "Do you mind if I borrow your coffee table?"
"Yes, in fact, I do," Damon said.
But he didn't bother try to stop her when she pulled Annabelle into the parlor. Pearl ignored her pleading eyes as she made her once defiant daughter stand in front of the table. She bent her daughter over, and Annabelle's hands automatically grabbed at the edges of the table.
It was humbling to watch her lift up her hips high for punishment. Pearl's heart softened as Annabelle bit her lips and looked up with wet, pleading eyes. But Pearl refused to give in and pull her daughter into her arms just yet. The only reason they were in this position was because she had neglected her duties as a mother. Annabelle needed her mother to follow through.
Pearl began to rain hard blows up and down her pert bottom and slim thighs. "Why am I punishing you, Annabelle?"
It took a few rounds of Pearl smacking her before Annabelle found her voice. As encouragement, Pearl added more strength behind her blows while she said, "I was disrespectful."
Mother continued to smack daughter with exacting force, "And?"
Annabelle's voice was scratchy, "I was disobedient."
Pearl allowed herself to smile, just a little. Annabelle attempted to dance away from her mama's palm to no avail. She was gripping at the edges of the table whimpering softly as Pearl's hand cut through the air to discipline her daughter.
Damon interrupted their very productive rhythm. "I don't hear you working, Stefan."
Pearl stilled. Stefan rustled some papers a few rooms over.
"I'm sorry, sir," Pearl could hear him cringe.
"I'll make sure Stefan faces some consequences for unauthorized voyeurism," Damon said.
Pearl was almost impressed by the smoothness in his voice. She returned to strike her daughter's buttocks. Her hand was open, and her fingers were doing most of the work addressing Annabelle's mouth and attitude. She wanted the top layers of her daughter's buttocks to sting. She was sharp and quick with her blows, thinking absently that she'd get a deeper burn going when they were back home.
When Annabelle's shoulders started to shake from silent tears, Pearl pulled her up into a hug. Annabelle curled into her mother and reached behind to sooth her freshly spanked behind. Despite the fact the pain was certainly gone, she had always taken to rubbing even after the mildest of spankings. Pearl always let her. It was good for Annabelle to focus on her punished backside even if it no longer hurt.
Rubbing fiercely, Annabelle looked into her mother's eyes and said, "I'm sorry, Mama." Without leaving the safety of her mother's arms, she looked over at Damon and said, "I apologize for being disrespectful in your household."
"Don't sweat it," Damon said.
After wiping away the stray tears with her thumb, Pearl stroked her daughter's hair and pressed a kiss on her forehead. "You'll be standing in a corner and reflecting during my discussion with Damon."
"Yes, ma'am."
Damon motioned for them to follow him as he walked to the kitchen, where Stefan was diligently studying. It was good to know that Damon was actually taking responsibility for his own household. The last thing that Pearl needed was for her daughter to point to another teenage vampire, who was hundreds of years younger than her, who wasn't beholden to rules and punishment.
She knew, firsthand, that Damon wasn't inclined to spare the rod with his younger brother.
Before strolling over to his little brother, Damon briefly touched Pearl's shoulder. "Anna should get to watch." His amused eyes caught Annabelle's curious ones, "Don't you think that's fair, Stefan?"
Stefan wiped his hands on his jeans. His eyes were glued to the book in front of him. "Yes, sir."
Annabelle watched them with a small smile.
"Up." Damon's entire focus was on his little brother, who quickly got onto his feet. Pearl found she wasn't too surprised when Stefan folded his arms behind his back and lowered his head. For vampires, old habits rarely died. Especially useful ones. And Pearl had no doubt Damon had spent the last hundred or so years finding this particular habit of Stefan's very useful.
Damon cleared away an empty spot in on the table before grabbing the back of Stefan's neck and forcing him to bend over. Before Stefan could settle on the table, Damon started to punish Stefan. He was methodical - spanking up one side and down the other so that every inch of Stefan's backside was tanned equally.
Pearl remembered that the first time she witnessed Damon spanking Stefan and being surprised that such a wild and reckless person did such a one-eighty when it came to doling out punishment.
It hadn't taken a lot to figure out why. Damon kept his worst inclinations in check in order to give his little brother everything he needed. At least until Katherine threw a wrench in their relationship with typical flair. Stefan spent his last few months as a human without any consistency from his de facto parent.
Pearl hadn't been terribly surprised when Annabelle reported that Stefan's transition had been rough.
However, it seemed that Damon had gotten them back on track. Unlike Annabelle, Stefan quickly submitted to the hand around his neck and the palm falling on his behind. Sensitive as ever, Stefan began to whimper almost immediately. Damon narrowed his eyes at the sound. He paused. Then he began to start hitting Stefan quite a bit faster than before.
Stefan buried his face in his arms, but otherwise remained completely still. He'd been well trained on how to accept correction. While Damon was at war, Katherine had taken Stefan over her knee more than once, and took pleasure teaching him to squirm and beg. Mixing sex and punishment did Stefan no favors but falling in love with Katherine did him no favors either. Pearl had done what she could to protect him, but Katherine usually got what she wanted.
And Katherine had really wanted a broken Stefan.
As Damon's continued to punish his child, Annabelle's amused face closed off. Her eyes became hard to read. Pearl hadn't known what she was thinking until her daughter started to rub her own backside urgently.
Annabelle and Stefan had been good friends before.
Stefan kept his crying quiet, but there was no hiding it from vampires who had hundreds of years on him. He was clearly learning, and that was satisfying to witness. Damon was a difficult man to work with, but it was heartening to see that he hadn't let Katherine completely destroy his bond with Stefan. It was good to see that Stefan still benefited from the type of love that only came from the swing of an arm and a blazing heat building on the behind.
Although Pearl preferred to keep Annabelle on her toes during a spanking, she couldn't argue against Damon's technique. Stefan didn't beg or plead for a lighter sentence; he just accepted his bottom needed to be worked over by his big brother's hand. That was, Pearl believed, how a child ought to behave during a spanking.
And Stefan was the type of child who clearly benefited from a sore bottom. His cries were genuine and heartfelt. Damon wasn't spanking him nearly hard enough to warrant such pained tears. No, Stefan was crying because he regretted his actions. Sensitive children blossomed under stern hand. Damon became someone worthy of respect as he attended to his brother's needs.
Damon ended the spanking as abruptly as he started it. Annabelle's shoulders slumped in relief when Damon yanked Stefan onto his feet. Stefan folded his hand behind his back and bowed his head. Damon's frown softened as he brushed his fingers through Stefan's hair.
"You still prefer scotch, Pearl?" Damon was using his fingers to untangle nonexistent knots in Stefan's hair.
Pearl rose a brow. "I do."
Damon set his thumb under Stefan's chin and lifted his head. "Fix us drinks," Stefan nodded, "and bring it to my study. Then find a corner to put your nose in."
Stefan had taken to wiping his face with one hand and rubbing his bottom with the other. "Yes, sir." Damon propelled him forward with a smack to one of his thighs as Pearl helped Anna settle into a corner at the far end of the dining room.
Now that the children were disciplined, they could get down to business.
"It's early November," Pearl said after Damon led her to his study, "and Virginia is having a devastating ice storm."
After sitting down, Damon set his legs on his desk and crossed them at his ankles. "And?"
Pearl pressed her lips together and took a moment to gather herself before saying, "Winters in Virginia are almost always mild. And it's not even winter yet."
Before Damon could respond, there was a soft knock on the door.
"Come in," Damon said.
Stefan's eyes were fixed on the floor as he walked into the office and over to where Pearl was standing. He was carrying a tray with glasses of bourbon and scotch. His shoulders were stiff, and his breathing was artificially even. If circumstances were different, she might have offered him a smile or gently squeezed one of his tense shoulders. Instead, she took the offering, "Thank you, Stefan."
"Yes, ma'am," Stefan told the floor as he walked over to Damon.
"Set the tray on the desk," Damon told Stefan after he'd removed his feet from the table of the desk. After Stefan obeyed, Damon grabbed his arm and pulled him down. Pearl thought he might lecture or swat Stefan, but instead he squeezed the back of his neck. "I'm starting to think you really do need to get on some happy pills."
Stefan swallowed. "I'm sorry, brother." He turned to face Pearl, eyes much waterier than the situation called for, "I'm sorry Miss Pearl."
It was clear there was more going on than Pearl was aware of.
"Go make nice with a corner downstairs," Damon said gently, "I'll let you know when you can get back to your homework."
"Yes, sir," Stefan said and scuttled out of the room.
"Where were we?" Damon asked. Pearl rose her hand, listening to Stefan make his way back downstairs. Damon rolled his eye. "My time is valuable."
"You are about to be compensating for it," Pearl said. Downstairs, Stefan apologized to Annabelle, who accepted. "You see?"
"Stefan agonizes over the unbearable guilt he feels over killing squirrels on a daily basis," Damon said with an exaggerated roll of his eyes, "so excuse me if I'm not impressed with him feeling guilty for actually screwing up."
Damon Salvatore was very tedious. When he wanted to, he was sharp enough to be a legitimate threat. However, just as often, his personality flaws hindered him. Normally, Pearl would leave it at that. However. "Damon. I'm trying to build a productive alliance with you."
"Yeah," Damon said, "I can tell." He took a long drink of his bourbon. "And, against my better judgement, here I am. Listening to you talk about the weather of all things."
Pearl set down her scotch on the desk table. Then leaned towards Damon. "The best way to fortify against potential threats down the line is to build relationships."
"I prefer to kill," Damon said, showing his fangs when he grinned.
"How many friends do you think Katherine has had in her long life?" Pearl asked.
"Counting you?" Damon said, holding up his index finger. Then he moved his fingers into a zero shape. "Nada. She left you to rot, remember?"
"She also kept my daughter alive," Pearl said. "Annabelle Zhu was the last known link to Katherine Pierce, who has more enemies than just about any other vampire on the planet. Not one of them touched a hair on her head. My daughter is impressive young woman, Damon, but luck and skill could only help her so much. Katherine was smart enough not to leave her safety to chance."
"Why would the evil slut even care?" Damon asked.
Pearl smiled against her glass. "I've got leverage."
"Going to let me in on those dirty little secrets?" Damon asked.
"If you prove yourself worthy," Pearl said. "Perhaps by learning from your little brother." Damon didn't return with a quick quip, which was promising. "Managing your household doesn't end at discipline, Damon."
"Stefan's going to be spending the near future pretending to be a good little high school student," Damon said. He stood up and he was reeking danger. "And far away from anything that can hurt him." His smile was dangerous as he casually lifted up his arm. "Save from me on his butt, of course."
"I don't expect you to put him in harm's way," Pearl said, "but he has a cooler head than you. Learn to use his strengths."
"All of this sage advice," Damon made a circle with both index fingers, "is about the weather. Anna was probably right about it just being global warming. You should really look into that instead of bothering me."
"Perhaps," Pearl allowed, "but there's a quality to the storm that reeks of magic." She stood up straight. "Bennett witches are unusually powerful."
"Bonnie a novice who hasn't mastered anything useful," Damon said, "she barely knows how to read the cookbook Shelia left behind. There's no way she could control the weather, even if she wanted to. And between you and me, let's say she's not the megalomaniac type. That would be too interesting."
"Not consciously," Pearl said.
"Fine," Damon plopped back down on his desk chair with a sigh. "I'll look into it. Are we done?"
"For now," Pearl stood up. "Annabelle and I have much to discuss in the coming days," her defiant little girl, prone to eavesdropping, was no doubt cringing. Her nose best be pressed in the corner while she imagined the potential ways she was about to be firmly corrected if she planned to get through her coming punishment with her rear intact. Pearl knew the best way to handle her was to thrash her and she was willing to skin her alive if need be. "But don't let that stop you from informing me as soon as you learn something."
"So happy I can do your grunt work," Damon muttered.
Pearl pointed at one of the kitchen chairs. Anna looked at her with big pleading eyes, but Pearl wasn't moved. She pressed her lips together and folded her arms. Annabelle swallowed and pulled out the chair and set it in the middle of the kitchen.
Annabelle would be best served with a cane, but Pearl hadn't been able to replace the one she'd had made specially for her little girl since she'd been freed from the tomb.
She would need a substitute. She eyed her daughter thoughtfully. "Give me your belt before you take off your trousers."
Stone faced; Annabelle obeyed.
Pearl tugged the strip leather as her daughter undressed. It wasn't particularly sturdy. In addition, the belt was extremely narrow, made for decoration as opposed to function. She swung the belt and the whistle made Annabelle flinch as she set her folded clothing on the table. However, the sting it would produce would be similar enough to a cane for their purposes.
"Do you remember the standard position?" Pearl asked. Annabelle nodded. "Recite it, please."
"Hands flat on the seat, feet planted on the ground with my legs spread, pushing out my hips as much as possible."
"Good girl," Pearl said. She took hold of the belt buckle and wound the leather around her hand once. The remaining length would be used to punish. Annabelle squirmed. "I've decided on fifteen strokes, which you will count. What happens if you move out of place or lose count?"
"You start from the top," Annabelle said.
"Bend over," Pearl said. When Annabelle's backside was well presented for direct action, Pearl took her place behind her. She pressed the belt against her buttocks. She tapped it. Unhappy with the position, she pressed the leather against skin a little lower and tapped again. Still not right. She moved down very low, just above where Annabelle's thighs were.
She wanted the first blow to hurt.
"Count," Pearl reminded her.
Annabelle shouted out at the first lash. But she kept still and said, "One, ma'am." Pearl struck her target again. "Two, ma'am." Pearl pulled her arm back and quickly found a productive tempo. "Three, ma'am. Four, ma'am." Pearl was making sure her daughter knew exactly how displeased she was. The thin strap of leather bit deep red lines across her pale cheeks. They faded quickly, but there wasn't much she could do about that.
Annabelle yelped.
Pearl pressed her lips tightly together and swung. Annabelle moaned in conjunction with the punishing blows. The rhythm she'd established was much too productive to end simply because her daughter wasn't able to follow the rules. Annabelle sobbed and danced as Pearl whipped her naughty little girl with a soundness that she'd clearly been bereft off for far too many decades.
"Mama!" she cried. Pearl aimed at for her undercurve and hit home again and again. "Please! No more!"
Pearl finished up the first round with a flurry of licks down her thighs. Annabelle cries were difficult to hear, but Pearl pushed away the desire to offer comfort and forgiveness. If she ended early, Annabelle would just have to bend over all that much sooner.
"Get back into position, Annabelle," Pearl ordered. Sniffling, she did as she was told. Although she took her time pressing her palms flat on the chair and pushing her rear up high for more chastisement, Pearl couldn't bring herself to scold Annabelle for her childish attempts at stalling. It really had been much too long since her daughter's buttocks had been soundly spanked. She'd give Annabelle a little leeway.
"We're going to start from the top." Pearl pressed the belt against her target. "What are you going to do while I whip you?"
"Stay still and count, ma'am," Annabelle said and immediately shot up when she was struck.
Pearl leaned to the side as she set her free arm behind her back and began to land steady blows up and down Annabelle's legs. She twisted her wrists over and over as she adorned her thighs with lines of red.
"I didn't mean to," Annabelle said between the swift licks correcting her mistakes. "I just wasn't ready!"
"You've had ample time to be prepared for this," Pearl said, dismissive. Briefly, she let her ire control the punishment and added considerably more to the sting she was building. Annabelle sobbed pitifully as the belt lectured with precise lashes against vulnerable skin. There was way too much defensiveness in her tears and pleas for Pearl to think she's learned her lesson. "Back in place, young lady."
"Yes, ma'am."
Peal studied her daughter for a few minutes. Her posture was perfect with a bare round target begging to be corrected with a round of richly deserved swats. Pearl couldn't deny she wanted to get back to work thrashing her little girl, but it wouldn't do to be overeager here. Annabelle needed her pert bottom thoroughly worked over; but said work over would be pointless without a wise hand guiding the pain. Annabelle needed to relearn patience. Practice made perfect.
"Mama - "
"Hush," Pearl said. For several long minutes she watched as her daughter held up her hips high for punishment. She was gripping the at the chair tightly, but had enough control not to break the seat. After her tears softened, Pearl swung her hand back. Annabelle clenched her buttocks. Affection melted some of Pearl's disappointment - after everything, her little girl was still afraid of a smacked bottom.
"One, ma'am," Annabelle said after the sound of leather hitting flesh echoed throughout the room. Pearl struck her again. "Two, ma'am." She then hit her twice, lightning fast, right above her thighs. Instead of counting, Annabelle shouted out her pain.
"I suppose we'll start from the top again," Pearl said while she whipped at Annabelle's hopping legs, "stay in position, young lady." She kept tanning hide as Annabelle corrected her stance.
She paused briefly. Then she rose the leather high and hit hard.
"Yes, ma'am. Ouch! One, ma'am," Annabelle said. Pearl struck her again and again and again. There was no mercy in her aim, no pity in her swing. "Two ma'am, three ma'am, four ma'am."
Pearl took a step back and unwound the belt from her fist before winding it back around her knuckles. "Tell me why you're in this position."
"I was rude to you," Pearl gripped the belt buckle while her daughter spoke and smacked her hard. Annabelle choaked out a sob, "Five, ma'am. I disobeyed you." Her shoulders were tense, and her hands were shaking very slightly. She needed another lick. Pearl held off and walked around so they were face to face. She smacked the belt against her palm and gave a pointed look. Annabelle's voice croaked as she said, "I broke rank in front of a potential enemy."
Peal circled the chair where Annabelle was perched and positioned. "Continue."
Annabelle dropped her head. "You've been warning me for weeks what would happen if my behavior didn't improve."
Pearl struck. The belt sliced through the air and there was a flurry of loud cracks of leather on skin. Annabelle choaked on her tears as Pearl raised hell on her naked ass. The belt may not be sturdy, but Pearl had centuries of practice spanking her daughter. That experience served them well. Each time she licked a line of fire marred her daughter's perfect skin. Brief as the pain was, Pearl made sure each time leather corrected, it burned a lesson into her skin.
To her credit, Annabelle didn't dance away from the licks. But her hold on the seat slipped and by the time Pearl concluded the latest round of lashes, Annabelle had fallen onto her elbows. Pearl pressed her lips together tightly and made sure the next few lashes really stung. Annabelle cried out, "Please, I'll be a good girl!"
Pearl answered her plea by continuing to whip. She did not bend, she did not break, she just kept making sure the belt found its way back to her little behind again and again. "Get back into position."
Annabelle quickly caught her breath, planted her palms firmly on the seat, and stuck out what needed to be punished. Pearl struck. "One, ma'am."
"I'm not doing this to make your life miserable," Pearl said.
Annabelle flinched when the belt connected. "Two, ma'am."
"Our lives are forever dangerous and, no matter how much you grow and change, you are forever burdened by the fact that you'll always have the disposition of a child."
"Three, ma'am," Pearl smacked a red line into her skin. "Four, ma'am." Pearl struck her undercurve with quick succession. Gasping in pain, Annabelle kept her count, "Five, ma'am, six ma'am, seven ma'am, eight, ma'am."
Pearl kept the belt pressed firmly against the middle of her buttocks. "What are you learning, my girl?"
"You know best, Mama," Annabelle whimpered as the pretty belt she'd put on to look cute this morning slashed back into her skin. "Nine, ma'am. I've been reckless, mama. I'm sorry."
Pearl took a moment to study her weeping daughter. It was painful to see such a lovely and strong young woman reduced to such pain, but the other option would have been a thousand time worse. A sore and humiliated Annabelle was much preferable to a dead one.
"Ten, ma'am." Annabelle yelped when Pearl aimed at her upper thigh with particular sharpness. The belt curved around the top of her leg. The welt that formed was red as blood. "Eleven, ma'am." Pearl hit and left behind a deep cut. "Twelve, ma'am." Pearl had initially planned to apply the same licks to her other thigh, but instinct persuaded her to stay the course.
She spanked deep lines of red into Annabelle's upper thigh three more times. Her aim was perfect, and her pace was fast. The second after she licked fire into her target, she hit a fresh welt into the cut she's lain down. And then she added that undoubtedly spot by hitting it again. After that, she stuck gold again. Annabelle was sobbing like the well punished little girl she was as Pearl concluded the first real spanking she'd gotten in over a century.
"Thirteen, ma'am, fourteen, ma'am, fifteen, ma'am!"
Pearl dropped the belt. "Come here," she said, opening her arms.
Annabelle rushed over, both hands rubbing her poor bottom. The physical pain might be gone, but she'd deal with the physic pain for a little while, yet. Pearl hugged her tightly and kissed her forehead. "I've got you."
"I'm so sorry!" Annabelle looked earnestly up at her mom, hands still rubbing her freshly corrected backside. Her eyes were large and watery. "Mama."
"I know." Pearl pulled her in closer and Annabelle buried her face into Pearl's chest. "I'm here." She stroked Annabelle's hair as she guided her into a nearby corner and pressed her nose into it. "I want you to meditate on why I had to whip you."
"Yes, ma'am."