Divide and Conquer (Part One)

Every summer, Randy and I visit a popular theater festival in another state. We renewed that lovely tradition last week. The three plays we saw were all excellent and the casts, sets, costumes, and staging were superb. We shared several exquisite meals as well as some all too rare quiet time together. It was such a great outing that we are already looking forward to next year’s trip.

Regular readers probably won’t be surprised to learn that the week included some spanking as well. There were several spankings in fact. Before we left on Tuesday morning, Randy caught me coming out of the shower. Knowing the man as I do, I figured that a pre-trip bun warming was a distinct possibility. Nevertheless, he managed to surprise me by choosing a moment when my mind was racing in several directions other than spanking.

I walked out of the bathroom, still slightly damp and with my hair wrapped in a towel. I looked up to see him seated on the bed, facing me, clutching a wooden hairbrush in his strong right hand. He clearly intended to take me over his lap and spank me. I started to turn around and head back from whence I came, but his voice stopped me.

“Wait just a minute…” His pitch rose as he enunciated the word “just.”

I froze in mid-step. I knew my fate was sealed.

“I believe you and I have some business to transact.”

He sure knows how to make it sound romantic, doesn’t he? Nevertheless, I turned to face my destiny. Without additional hesitation, I lowered myself into that familiar position. I was face down across his lap with my unclothed bottom optimally angled to accept the coming onslaught.

Our session was brief, but shockingly intense. The curved handled brush delivers a powerful, burning wallop and with repeated application turns the recipient’s posterior a fiery red hue. By the time he let me up, I was clutching my scalded flesh in a futile effort to stem the pain. I felt thoroughly spanked.

As I was working to regain my composure, Randy grabbed a department store bag from the top of his dresser. He tossed it to me. I opened the slick, shiny plastic bag and removed from it four black cotton thongs. The store tags were still attached.

My first thought was how wonderful it is to have a sweet husband who buys me sexy underwear even after all these years. My second thought was that he probably expects me to wear these thongs on the trip and then use that as an excuse to spank at every opportunity.

I was, of course, correct on both counts. Randy announced that he wanted me to wear these new thongs on the trip. I asked if I could please wash them first and he agreed that there should be enough time before we left. However, he asked that I wear one pair when we departed.

As it turned out, this was not my dear husband’s only fashion mandate. He wanted me to wear a pair of light tan canvas slacks. I think he thought he was being sly, but I immediately recognized his game. He wanted me to show off my well tended bottom for him and the rest of the world, framed by a very visible dark thong.

As with so many of his plans, I felt simultaneously horrified and thrilled. On one hand, I really didn’t need to be paraded around like a prime cut of meat. I’m a grandmother! Yet, on the other hand, something deep within my submissive core desired to be that meat. I wanted my curvy body to inspire impure thoughts in complete strangers.

Perhaps I could have begged off, but I made no attempt. In fact, I even packed a favorite pair of white shorts.

By the time my newest lingerie came out of the dryer, I was otherwise packed and ready to go. I slid one pair over and into my recently toasted bottom. The feeling of the warm fabric gently separating my cheeks caused me to shiver with anticipation. I was now due the full treatment and I wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less.

A quick check in the mirror revealed that the tan slacks were every bit as translucent as Randy had envisioned. The T-shaped top of my black cotton thong was clearly visible in back. I pondered for a brief instant the possibility of modeling this new look for my man, but I decided that would probably delay our departure even further. After all, we did have tickets for a performance that evening.

My bottom was still quite tender when we set out for our four hour drive. But the weather was pleasant and the highway was inviting. Under the right circumstances, I love a road trip. I like to watch the cars and trucks, mountains and pastures, signs and sights. You can learn a lot about people and the way they live by driving along a two lane road. By the time we arrived at our destination, I felt surprisingly energized.

We chose an established hotel chain for our accommodations on this trip. The previous time we attended this event, we stayed at a cute little bed and breakfast. The old house was downright charming, as were our hosts, but the thin walls and lack of privacy definitely inhibited some of our noisier vacation activities. To our delight, our new room was located at the end of a long hall on the top floor. Other than the housekeeping staff, we saw barely saw another soul the entire time.

Once inside the room, Randy insisted upon carrying out one of his favorite traditions. He likes to inaugurate a new dwelling by reddening my seat. In the name of good fun and all that inevitably follows, I eagerly played along.

I started to remove my slacks in preparation for the inevitable, but he told me that he would rather I left them on this time. He said he “liked the look.” My man positioned me on hands and knees in the middle of the carpeted floor. From his bag, he produced our black leather riding crop. It’s an effective toy in terms of spanking, but by no means excessive. I rather like its savage kiss.

“Crack” went the leather tip as it impacted against my lightly covered bottom. I flinched, but maintained my position. Again, he snapped the whip against my opposite side. This too hurt, but in a delicious sort of way. I tipped my hips to invite more of the same. He did not disappoint.

The blows now fell slowly and at irregular intervals such that I could not anticipate when or where the next one would fall. He turned on the television to provide us with a little aural cover. Randy then straddled my waist facing my burning derriere. He applied the crop again with skillful aim and just the right level of severity. Now craving the wicked burn, I felt as though I wanted all he would give me.

The next thing I recall, I was on the bed, on my back, without clothing, and accepting a very different sort of gift. My fingers dug into my lover’s back as we were overtaken by the hazy otherworldliness of a breathless coupling. The preceding act had been welcome and necessary. This phase, though, dripped with erotic indulgence. It was deep, sensual luxury. Somehow dirty, yet wholesome, and fulfilling, but promising more. Mmmmm.

I would have been quite content to drift off to sleep beside my life partner, but Randy reminded me that we had tickets for a performance in just ninety minutes and we hadn’t eaten since lunch. Faced with this practical conundrum, I chose to abandon for the moment my dreams of slumber.

Randy and I shared a quick but tasty meal at a storefront café. I had a grilled chicken avocado salad with a honey vinaigrette dressing. Randy chose a deli sandwich with kettle chips. I enjoyed again being in the company of theater people. There were as many characters in the restaurant as we saw on stage. We smiled as a very demonstrative gay patron informed everyone within earshot how pedestrian he thought the bouillabaisse had been. As far as I could tell, that item wasn’t even on the menu. Later, an older woman instructed her waitress with great precision about the temperature at which her soup should be served. Unfortunately, we had to leave before learning whether it was to her liking.

As we walked to the theater, Randy seemed to dawdle. I thought we were in a bit of hurry, but you couldn’t discern that fact from his leisurely pace. Finally, I said to him, “C’mon, shouldn’t we get going?” He laughed and replied, “Yeah, but I love looking at your beautiful ass in those pants.”

I suppose it’s nice to be appreciated.

The play was a classic British comedy. It was appropriately serious about being silly and silly about being serious. There were many laughs and we thoroughly enjoyed the production.

We stopped for dessert in the same café after the show. I have a weakness for chocolate and for cheesecake. The two combined in the proper proportions can be pure heaven. This rendition was happiness on a small plate. I ate it slowly in hopes of savoring every morsel. I would tell you what Randy ordered, except that I have no idea. The cheesecake was that good!

The conclusion of Divide and Conquer can be found here.

Keywords: spanking, vacation spanking, hairbrush spanking, riding crop, spanking story, spanking and sex, Bonnie, erotic spanking