Buzzword Bonanza

Are there certain words and phrases that get your motor running? There deinitely are for me, and my man knows them all. Here’s what I mean…

Last weekend, I decided that things were just a bit too quiet around our domicile. Randy was on his computer, no doubt inventing another of his virtual contraptions. This man is truly the Rube Goldberg of Cyberspace. I suppose I could have simply asked for his attention, but I didn't. No, an inventive man deserves an inventive invitation.

I decided to e-mail him a spanking postcard. After all, how better to reach the consummate dweeb than through his computer? I chose one that featured a picture of a man applying a hairbrush to his willing partner's bare seat. The caption read "Oh yes, I've been so naughty!" Perfect. My message could not possibly be misconstrued, even by a guy who majored in obliviousness. In the text part of the card I wrote, "Are you getting a little behind in your work?" I liked that line, although the word "little" is hardly applicable in my case.

I went into our bedroom to await my fate. I knew he was online. It was merely a matter of time before he checked his mailbox. In preparation, I dressed for success. I put on a pink thong and a big shirt. I then lay on the bed, on my tummy. All was ready. I picked up a book, but honestly, I couldn't concentrate enough to get anything from it.

It took about fifteen or twenty minutes for my Prince Charming to get around to reading his mail. To me, it seemed like hours. I always feel ambivalent during the time when I am waiting to be spanked. While I look forward to the contact, the thrill, the fulfillment, and the release, I also experience second thoughts beforehand, especially when I have asked for it. So it was on this occasion.

As soon as Randy walked in the room, the barrage of buzzwords began. It went something like this. "Well, young lady, I see that you have been naughty. I believe a bare-bottom spanking is in order." These words sent an anticipatory shiver through my body. He grabbed the trusty wooden hairbrush (which someone had conveniently left right out in plain sight). This is probably the implement of choice in our house. At least it gets more use than any of the others. I thought Randy would take me across his lap (as depicted in the picture), but he didn't, at least not yet.

With my compliant cooperation, he slid a couple of pillows beneath my hips. As he propped up my bottom, he explained how he wanted to gain full access to the area he was about to punish. Then he placed the wooden back to the brush against my skin. "I believe that to be effective, a spanking must be memorable." Down came the brush several times at full velocity. I jumped from the shock of the impact. "If I do my job properly, this little session should provide a vivid memory for at least the next several days." With that, the whacks fell again. He clearly wasn't holding back anything. I find that when I ask, I generally receive a very intense spanking. Perhaps that is as it should be.

"I like to spank you right HERE." The punctuation was a sizzling swat right at the base of my derriere. He followed it with a couple more of the same. "No, you're not going to be able to sit tomorrow." At this point, I had no doubt he was correct. "Every time you feel that ache, I want you to remember how and why you were disciplined." After adding a few more sharp stings, he changed strategy.

Randy sat on the edge of the bed and invited me across his lap. I cooperatively assumed my usual position. He placed his left arm around my upper hips as if to secure me in place. Then the lecture resumed, "You should know by now, young lady, that every time you misbehave, you're going to be disciplined. You also know that in this house, that means a sssspanking." He drew out the final word as though the very act didn't provide sufficient emphasis. Now the buzzwords and the swats freely intermingled.

Finally, Randy ceased the attack, albeit briefly. He put down the brush and used his hand to caress the surface he had just warmed. His voice was now calm and soothing. "Bon, you have one beautiful bottom," he said. "It was just designed to take a spanking. What's more, you have the perfect mind to go with it." OK, now I felt flattered, but I wondered where he was going. He again picked up the brush. The festivities had not quite reached their conclusion.

"I used to think you liked these spanking sessions." (whack!) Before I could correct him, he said, "You don't just like them." (whack!) "You don't just love them." (whack!) "You don't just want them." (whack!) "You absolutely NEED them." (lots of whacks!) He received no argument from me. "No husband could ask for any more."

With that, he took me in his arms and hugged me. I told him that I did need the things that he did to me. I felt completely contented in his arms and I told him so. This conversation segued nicely into the passionate interlude that followed. It was wonderful. We even got to take a nap together afterward. Life is good.

I guess this story gives a whole new meaning to the phrase "you've got mail."

Keywords: spanking, spanking dialogue, spanking stories