Saturday, September 24, 2005

Anything But That!

Randy got me good last night. Real good. I don’t mean he spanked me, though as you will soon see, he surely did. No, my dear husband twisted my mind in a major way. Maybe it’s because he knows me so well, but he has a knack for turning my desires inside out.

It was Friday night and we were both relieved to have finished a busy week at work. As soon as he walked into the kitchen, I knew the evening held something special. Randy grabbed my waist with his strong arms and pulled me toward him. He overwhelmed me with kisses as his hands roamed over my hips, thighs, and derriere. Rubs became pats and pats became slaps across the back of my skirt. I caressed his muscular chest as I unbuttoned his shirt. His mouth found its way to my temples, my cheeks, my ears, and my neck. I was ready to surrender, but he had another plan.

My lover whispered in my ear, “Let’s go upstairs.” He didn’t have to make that suggestion twice. As I trudged up the steps to our bedroom, I was all the while conscious of Randy’s hands reaching beneath the hem of my skirt to grip my hips. Playtime was just ahead.

When we reached our bedroom, Randy directed me to “strip and assume ‘the position.’” I adore that kind of talk. At our house, “the position” means on all fours at the edge of the bed. He intended to spank me and I was breathless with anticipation. As much as it hurts, a well-executed bottom blistering ignites an erotic flame within me unrivaled by any other experience. At that moment, I wanted him to strike me with a hard wooden paddle – not just once, but as many times as was necessary to turn that flame into a passionate inferno.

I took my position and patiently (OK, I wasn’t that patient) awaited my fate. I looked over my shoulder to see if I could determine what my man was doing. What I saw next sent a shiver though my exposed body. Randy had over his shoulder my nemesis. It was a long, thick board we call the Mother of All Paddles (or MOAP, for short). This implement is bigger and badder than any paddle has a right to be. When Randy first brought it home, I thought it was a joke. There’s no way anyone in their right mind would want their bottom to be hit with that thing! Since then, we’ve met on a number of occasions. Each time, I vowed never again. It’s too heavy. It’s too thuddy. It’s too bruising. It’s simply too much.

Suddenly, my mood had shifted from lusty to leery. I didn’t want anything to do with that accursed plank. I told him so. Randy politely reminded me that he was in charge of my spankings and he would decide what would happen to my seat. True enough, I conceded, but that paddle was out. No way. Not me. Not here. Not tonight. Not that!

I found myself begging for mercy. “Please, Honey, anything but that” I wailed. Randy gave in far more easily than I anticipated. “OK” he said with an ominous finality in his voice. He tossed aside the hated bun toaster. It hit the floor with a surprisingly loud bang.

“Lie on your back” was his next command. It was beginning to dawn upon me that I was about to learn a new definition for the word “anything.” He walked to his dresser and removed from it a thick, black leather belt. I’ve never been a fan of belts and he well knew that. They tend to wrap around my hips in a most unpleasant manner. At this moment, though, I was hardly in a position to bargain.

My Prince Charming grabbed my ankles and dragged me over to the edge of the bed such that my legs were hanging off. In his left hand, he gathered both of my ankles and lifted my legs straight toward the ceiling. His strong right hand held the dangling instrument of my chastisement. He began slowly, but soon picked up both the pace and the intensity of the assault upon my poor buttocks. The belt made sharp “whap” sounds as it repeatedly made fierce contact with my reddening skin.

As so often happens during a spanking, my mind ventured from bravery to panic to alarm to resistance to resignation to acceptance. By the time Randy finished applying the belt, I was ready to embrace whatever he thought best. The pain was very real, but seemed as though it were happening to someone else in another place and time. Somehow the roughness of it all and the feeling of being his conquest made me crave my husband all the more.

Dropping the belt, he took me on that very spot. I had little opportunity to catch my breath before the next phase of our carnal feast. As the lovemaking escalated, his powerful hands grasped and squeezed my punished spheres. My entire body quaked with monumental completion. Over and over, pleasure mixed with pain and comfort with discomfort until I could no longer differentiate those richly intoxicating sensations. I was bathed in a warm tingle. Randy too shook as he delivered his gift.

Afterward, we lay in bed, exhausted yet thrilled by the magic we had conjured. For me, it was a wild ride and one for which I am most grateful. Randy is a master at shaping and bending my emotions in ways I just never see coming. He can take something I desire and convince me I don’t. He can make me accept it anyway and then persuade me I can’t live without it. I might get confused were it not for the overriding love I feel for this man. I want anything he wants me to have.

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3 comments :

mikki said...

wish to say thank you for some very enjoyable reading am very glad i found you

Fantasia Lillith said...

Careful what you wish for!!!

Raven said...

Damn, that is hot!

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