As requested by Rich in a comment and Himself in real life.

Living so far away from my lover there are times when he tells me to remove my knickers.

He tells me to remove them when I am in the corner which he can see. This is a very horrid and embarrassing thing. He watches me and I tug them down and he won’t let me leave them up even a little bit.

He tells me to take them off completely if I pull them back up without asking or sometimes if I am a bit uppity. It is difficult to be uppity when someone has told you to remove your knickers. It makes one a bit shy and hesitant to be knickerless. It is not just that he knows but also that he told me to do it. That is such a personal act. It makes me a little quiet to think of it.

He tells me to remove my knickers when he tells me squirmy stories but I may die of shyness if I tell you about that.

When I am with him the baring of my bum is out of my hands, with one exception.

Most of the time he does it when I am in position. I am curved over his knee, making a sullen S shape and I am sulky, angry, sorry, bratty or one of a million other moods. He may give me two or three swats and then down they come. He may do it briskly, a business like tug which I hate. It is like he does not even care that I want my knickers up; he thinks it is all his choice. I know it is but that lack of choice makes me feel so submissive and surprised.

He may do it before I end up bent over in one way or another. I stand in front of him because that is what he tells me to do and he reaches up and pulls them down. My head hangs low when he does this. Standing before him all bare is horrible and it is almost a relief when he bends me over the bed or his lap or a table.

The exception is rare but it does happen. I will write about this event a bit more at some point but for now I just want to tell you about how it starts.

I am in trouble for a specific offence. I know just what it is that I did and what the result will be. He tells me to get the cane (I have written about this properly, and I long to tell you all now, soon, soon) and to take it to the table. He further instructs me to bend over the table and put my dress up and my knickers down. That calm, lonely moment, that shame and lack of contact, that waiting and fear – all of that may be the worst time I am told to bare my bottom.

Thank you , Richard, for requesting this subject. I was surprised to find I had a gazillion pretty pictures on this topic and I have no idea why.

Would you like another?