The Sweater

This is a late entry for the 250 word spanking story contest - I couldn't make the deadline so I kind of audited the class (@naughtyabby, @caseydamnmorgan, @SabrinaMorgan, @spankingresource)
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You burst in the door excited, happy, puppy at your heels. The little girl in you pouring out the joy of exploring the woods. You danced through the living room clutching your sweater, humming contentedly in the kitchen.

…

I found your sweater in the corner. I noticed a loose thread, torn wool. You’d caught it on a branch, ruined an expensive sweater. You’d asked for it. Pleaded for it - a hundred dollar sweater. I held it out as I walked into the bedroom. You begged me not to punish you.

I walked outside. With 10 acres of trees there was no shortage of switches. The willows were just budding. A willow switch, I thought, a green willow switch would really teach a lesson.

…

As I peeled the switch you asked for a hairbrush spanking instead – you were scared– you hate my hairbrush. Your tiny hands around your ankles, cool evening air on your bare bottom. I began– heard the “swish-thwap”, saw the first tears, the first welt rising.

“One Sir Thank You Sir” you sobbed. Your cries filled the evening. There was no one but you and I to hear them.

…

I walked you, stumbling, to bed, fresh tears streaming. I put you to bed, closed the door, listened to you cry yourself to sleep. Later I slipped in and held you.

…

You woke me to show me your marks, every stroke written in violet across your skin. Wrapping yourself around me you whispered

“Thank you Sir – I deserved it”