Yobun’na supankingu

The story begins with Welcome to Josei no Kiritsu Spa and Dojo. I recommend you read that story first.

Stacey knocked tentatively on the Dojo’s door. When no one answered, she knocked again, then tried the handle. The door was locked. Maybe Sensei Hirsha forgot, she thought hopefully. She started to leave when a neon pink sticky note on the floor of the alcove opposite of the door, caught her attention. Picking it up, the first word dashed all hope of a reprieve.

“Student, Fold clothes neatly and stack them beside door. Seiza on your clothes with nose against wall until I arrive. ~Hirsha”

Glancing up and down the hall, she was slightly relieved to see no one around. The little alcove by the door would hide her so long as no one walked down the hall. It would also provide some cover while she undressed, which was a horrifying thought. Someone walking by while she was half undressed was somehow much worst to her than stripping in the locker room and walking her naked. Slipping off the shoulder straps, she quickly wiggled the dress and panties together over her hips and into a pile on the floor. She took another peak down the hall before hastily folding into eighth and setting it on her sandals next to the door. With her panties hide inside the folds of the dress, she knelt down into the seiza position and waited.

Stacey had been waiting in the prescribed position for forty-five minutes when Sensei Hirsha arrived.

“Come girl,” Hirsha told Stacey as she unlocked the door. Stacey gingerly

“Seiza”

“You don’t listen. You bad girl. Yoga positions important to Jujutsu because they make strong core. Strong core, makes you good at Jujutsu. Understand?”

“Yes, sensei,” Stacey wasn’t sure what else to say. Jujutsu was all about having a strong, solid core stance from which you could strike, throw or deflect.

“Good, you learning. Now you learn more. First supankingu. Kowtow.” Hirsha told her student as she rose to her feet.

Stacey bowed forward, until her head touched the floor and her hand lay flat before her. While Stacey had never been to a Yobun’na supankingu before, she had a general idea what would happened, and it ended with her sleeping on her stomach.

“Lower,” Hirsha commented when she returned from the cabinet in the corner. Stacey reached farther forward and tried to get her chest lower to the floor. Her breast had been touching though now they were crushing under her weight. The shift had the effect of curving Stacey’s spine, providing a more pronounced target for Hirsha.

Hirsha knelt to the side of Stacey, so that her right hand had ample access to the derriere she had striped earlier. “No move or we begin supankingu again.” Hirsha instructed, brushing the leather and bamboo paddle across its target.

“Yes, sensei” Stacey said with a sigh.

The paddle fell like the spring time rains of Hirsha’s hometown in Japan. Tradition said Yobun’na supankingu was to be carried out in three parts, with the first part consisting of three minutes of a light, fast spanking. This was how Hirsha received Yobun’na supankingu when she was much younger and now how she taught her students.

Stacey maintained quiet groans as the sting of every individual swat merged together into one painful sensation. As the paddle fell, the tension in her shoulders and clenching of her lower cheeks grew. Every so often the paddle would wrap catch her at the intersection of her thighs, spiking her senses into releasing a yelp.

Hirsha stopped after counting to 180 silently. At about one swat per second, the 150 or so swats had created the desired even pink glow across the student’s bottom and the very tops of her thighs. The tramlines from this morning’s practice had mostly disappeared into the general coloring. Hirsha had learned the advantages of the first part of Yobun’na supankingu when she was a beginner like Stacey here. The quick, fast spanking would break up the swelling and scar tissue caused by a cane, allowing the bottom to heal much quicker, even if it was just as painful overall.

“Enough supankingu, now we fix mistakes.” Hirsha said to her student’s visible relief. Stacey’s shoulders slumped while the high and the tight globes she had presented Hirsha, returned to their natural relaxed state. “Stand up.”

For the next twenty minutes, Stacey was asked to perform every technique Hirsha had ever taught her. She sailed through the novice level techniques, showing perfect form every time. The beginner level techniques where not as well ingrained into her muscle memory and tripped up a couple. She was only slightly surprised when three searing swats landed on her backside when she made the first mistake. She was more surprised that after the reprimand, the sensei showed her the correct form, then walked through every motion with her multiple times before expecting her to preform it independently again. Out of the three dozen techniques she knew, less than half a dozen required any correction.

“Good, good. Now we end with reminder.” Hirsha said. “Get in downward dog.”

Stacey sighed deeply, instantly knowing her punishment was far from over. She’d been in enough of Hirsha’s classes to know the sensei only had students get into that yoga position before they were to be caned. The prominence of the target area made the position perfect for a caning, if a little embarrassing.

She watched Hirsha go towards the cabinet in the corner before resigning herself to another session with that evil rattan rod. Getting onto her stomach, she pushed herself up into a plank then shifted her shoulders backwards, thrusting her bottom upwards and into downward dog.

“Now reminder to always do good. You get three with big cane. No move or I start again.”

Stacey took a deep breath before answering “Yes, Sensei.” The clenched her jaw, bottom and eyes, waiting for the way to familiar sting to return.

Stacey originally thought she had been shot when the heavier rattan cane bit into the crowns of her cheeks. Her popped open and her lips parted as the breath was forced from her. Tears clouded the floor as she gasped a deep breath.

The second slice was worst than the first. Hirsha lowered her aim, landing across the junction of thigh and cheek. Stacey’s voice returned with a high pitch squeal followed by quick chants of ow mixed with sniffles.

Hirsha landed the final slice a quarter-way down from the top of the thigh.

Stacey broke her chanting to squeal again before returning to the mixture of ows and sniffles.

Hirsha set the tip of the cane on the floor and leaned gently on it while she waited for her student to regain her composure. The “reminder” portion of Yobun’na supankingu had always been the hardest on her, and it was the same way for her students.

“Ok, stand up.”

“You have completed Yobun’na supankingu. You feel more disciplined?”

“Yes Sensei,” Stacey responded without thinking what a dumb question it was. She’d just been put through a half an hour of spanking. Of course she would feel disciplined.

“Good, you more disciplined now. See you in class.”

—-

As Stacey laid in bed that night with her battery-powered friend in hand, she couldn’t get Sensei Hirsha’s words out of her mind. “You more disciplined now” repeated over and over, distracting her from her carnal wants. She eventually gave up on her little friend and instead practiced her techniques into the night. As she practiced into the night, all she could think of was being the best and making her sensei proud.

3 thoughts on “Yobun’na supankingu

  1. Loved this story! I think I was drawn to the martial arts by the hierarchy and atmosphere of discipline. Nothing remotely like this happened in my dojo, of course, but it’s an intriguing scenario to ponder!

    • Thanx. The whole series about Josei no Kiritsu Spa and Dojo was inspired by an image DJ Black posted a couple of weeks ago. The some of the other parts in the series are more focused on the spa and general athletic facilities of such a resort but the series concludes with another martial arts centered story.

  2. Pingback: Welcome Lurkers | In Hushed Voices

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