Thursday, October 27, 2005

Halloween Heatwave

Here's one from the crypt

In keeping with the season, Randy and I attended a Halloween party last night. As in years past, we had fun making our own costumes. My dear husband, utilitarian that he is, managed to spend a whole ten minutes creating a humorous costume from items he found in the basement. He located two big white poster boards, no doubt left over from one of our daughter’s school projects. He cut each poster board into an oval shape. He then took two pieces of string, each about a foot in length, and used them to connect the two big circles. The completed project resembled a sandwich board. He tossed his invention over his head so that the strings passed over his shoulders. He wore a brown sweater underneath and declared himself to be a peanut butter sandwich!

I, on the other hand, put a bit more effort into my costume. I decided to be a little devil. That fits, doesn’t it? I bought a dark red leotard and a matching pair of tights. I then found some red material with which to make a pointed tail. The horns were a bit trickier, but eventually, I located those at a costume shop. I cut out the tail, sewed it up, and stuffed it with polyester pillow batting. Next, I attached it to the appropriate spot on the back of the leotard. I had hoped to pin it, but it couldn’t be that simple. Nevertheless, my little devil costume was ready.

I must admit as I was assembling this outfit, I was mindful of Randy’s tastes. I figured he would love the look. In fact, I was counting upon that reaction. Borrowing one of his tactics, I declined to show him the costume in advance. I wanted him to be surprised.

As the time for the party approached, I gathered my collection of costume stuff and headed into the master bathroom to transform myself. I could tell that Randy was intrigued and amused by my secrecy. When I donned my costume, I discovered the fit was slightly more revealing than I had anticipated. The leotard rode high on my hips, and thanks to my, um, mature figure, it provided only partial coverage around back. My derriere looked enormous, but it was too late to back out now. Besides, I just knew Randy would go nuts.

Give me credit, I know my man. When I opened the door, he was sitting on the bed wearing that ridiculous human sandwich get-up. His eyes opened wide and his jaw dropped for a moment. “Wow,” he said. “Spin around and let’s see the back.” I did, ever so slowly just to tantalize him. “You’re just about too hot to take out of the house” Randy proclaimed. I gave him a faux pout in response. With that, the sandwich board costume was off and he was heading toward me at a high rate of speed. He quickly took me in his arms as his hands explored the lycra surface of my costume. As he held me tight, I could sense his rising excitement.

After gaining my interest with kisses and caresses, Randy announced “I think we’re just going to have to whack the devil out of you”. Party or no party, that was fine with me. “Mmmmm…” I said in a small voice. “Promise?”

His retort was decidedly non-verbal. He walked over to the toy drawer and retrieved a small paddle and a heavy wooden hairbrush. He sat on the edge of the bed and guided me down across his lap. The very air was electric with anticipation. He spoke slowly and calmly as he rubbed and patted the seat of my red leotard with the paddle. “I guess you knew precisely what wearing this kind of outfit would get you.” The polished wood felt smooth and cool. “You knew I’d have to spank your naughty bottom.” Now the pats became light swats. “I think you wanted me to use the paddle.” He picked up his pace as my heart raced in time. “You need this right now!” I might have agreed with his assessment had he not sidetracked my attention by unleashing a thunderstorm of stinging whacks all over my posterior.

I was panting hard when he dropped the paddle. I started to arise when his strong left hand pushed my body back into that classic punishment pose. “Not so fast, Missy” he chided. He picked up the hairbrush and immediately resumed working over my aching cheeks. Unlike many newer models, this hairbrush is solid oak. When applied to an unfortunate backside, it rapidly generates an intense burning sensation. The thin nylon of my costume provided no meaningful protection. He must have struck my upturned seat at least twenty times with that infernal implement. Spankings seldom make me cry, but I had tears in my eyes after this one.

We arrived at the party considerably later than most of the other guests. Both of our costumes were an immediate hit. At one point, Randy whispered in my ear that he loved my devil outfit, especially the way the colors matched so well. “Yeah,” I responded with a smile, “Thanks to you.” I know I must have jumped when he instinctively patted my sore spots.

I received both compliments and wisecracks about my devil suit. I felt a bit self-conscious wearing that skin-tight outfit around so many people. It was a bit like a day at the swimming pool. I found myself turning my back to a wall so my big, wide (very well spanked) bottom wouldn’t be quite so much on display.

At one point, one of Randy's friends came up to us and said "Hmm, nice tail." I smiled. Randy then grabbed the tail and said "Here's what it's really good for…" as he gently whipped my bottom with it. I gave him the hands-on-hips look of disapproval that seemed appropriate to the situation. Everyone laughed. I can't say I didn't give myself away, but I felt I had to try to act indignant. It was either that or admit that I like it!

It was an enjoyable party, but a little unnerving too. I don’t know why I always think people can recognize when I’ve been recently spanked, but I do. Randy is definitely aware that this scenario simultaneously fascinates and horrifies me. Perhaps it’s the danger of being exposed that is such a turn on. He searches for such opportunities (and all too often exploits them).

After we arrived home, I thought Randy might want to paddle me again. I, for one, really didn’t need it. But I choose to allow him to make these decisions. On this occasion, other priorities took precedent. In no time, the costume was off of me and my loving husband was on. We rocked together in a breathless coital tango. The conclusion was quick but powerful. We fell asleep in each others' arms.

I don’t need fantasy because on nights like this one, because my reality is better. I got both the trick and the treat!

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padme said...

Oh bonnie ...that is such a good story. :) Sounds like you had a very fun Halloween and a good red behind to show for it. I also don't really cry with spankings. It takes a lot. So I can understand that part of it. I think I've cried at maybe a dozen since I started getting spankings.
Take care...

wind walker said...

that's a great story....randy sounds like he has a great sense of humor....

sometimes after a particularly kinky session with storm, i wonder "can anyone tell??"

Storm Rider said...

Sorry you two, I had to make a change on the other comment!
I can see why Randy likes to show you off after a spanking, with you feeling like everyone knowing that you have just been spanked it would put an erotic aura about you.

Bonnie said...

Shyanne - Thanks. I really don't cry much during a spanking. I never have. Now, when I'm watching a kids' movie and the dog dies, I'm a blubbering mess. But during my spankings, real tears just don't happen very often. I used to worry about this, but I finally decided that it shouldn't matter.

Wind - Oh, yeah. He has a sense of humor all right. In his twisted world, the funniest site is watching me cringe when I sit down.

Storm - When I rub that aura, it feels a little better. :)

little one said...

Oh Bonnie, what a wonderful story. Sounds like you two had a fantastic time. Made me smile. :)

Have a good night.

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