The Talk

I have a lot to say about the events of this past weekend, but I don’t possess the energy this evening to record it all. What I will do instead is present one memorable discussion.

Randy and I spent this past weekend at a beautiful chalet in the mountains. This was a getaway we had been awaiting for weeks. We spent three whole days living in luxury and enjoying each other’s company. Every relationship requires rejuvination periodically. This mini-vacation was ours.

One highlight of the trip for me was a talk we had on Saturday afternoon. We were seated together in the tall living room and peering out of the windows that covered the entire back of the chalet. We had a great view of the valley framed by huge pine trees. For ten or fifteen minutes, we sat silently hand in hand and drank in this magnificent sight.

Randy turned his head to look right at me. I knew that look. I returned his gaze. He stood up and walked into the bedroom. When he returned a moment later, my husband was carrying our teardrop paddle. He sat next to me and without a word, patted his thigh. Well familiar with the routine, I positioned my body face down across his lap as he sat on a wide couch in the center of the sunlit living room.

In a well rehearsed choreography, up went my skirt and down came my underwear. The inevitable spanking was approaching quickly. Randy placed the cold wood of the paddle against my bare, pale skin. I prepared my mind for the pain and the thrill that awaited.

Randy delights in exploding my expectations and he did so once again. After a nearly wordless run up, the spanking itself was downright chatty. He punctuated each question with one or more strokes from the paddle.

“So, Bon. You’ve been spending a lot of time fiddling with that blog, haven’t you?”

“Um, yeah.”

“You’re not obsessing on that site, are you?”

“I don’t think so.”

“How much sleep did you get Thursday night?”

“I dunno.”

“Wrong answer!” (at this point he really laid into my bottom).

“I’m sorry.

“I expect you’re about to get a whole lot more sorry. You couldn’t have slept more than four hours.”

“I guess not.”

“Listen to me now. I’m serious. You need to take better care of yourself. I love you and you are important to me. I’m prepared to do what is necessary to keep you healthy and happy.” (the whacks were now falling slowly and heavily)

“I love you too, honey. I appreciate the things you do to help me.”

“That’s better. I want you to limit the time you spend on blogging.”

(Whine)

“No, I mean it. You’ve been blogging when you should have been sleeping.” (I squirmed under a renewed assault upon my throbbing seat)

“OK, I get it.” (boy, was I getting it!)

“I want you to limit your blogging to two hours per day, even when I’m not around.”

All right! All right!” (at this stage, I would have signed anything)

“So it’s agreed?”

“Yes. Please stop now.”

He did stop, but not until after several more minutes of full swing paddling. I danced atop his lap, but made no attempt to escape. I knew he was right. I deserved this spanking and, what’s more, I needed it to re-establish my emotional bearings. I had been overtired during much of the preceding week. When the spanking was over, I felt physically drained, yet spiritually renewed.

We untangled and stood up. We two lovers embraced. At that moment, I realized that I had just been soundly paddled in front of a twenty foot tall picture window. I don’t have any reason to believe there was anyone below us, but it was possible. The thought passed quickly as Randy’s hand came in contact with my stinging derriere. As he hugged me with one hand, he massaged my exposed bottom cheeks with the other. It hurt, but in a different sense, it felt good as well.

Anytime Randy rubs my bottom, it is arousing for both of us. When it happens immediately after a spanking, the effect is magnified. Not surprisingly, I ended up up-ended over the back of the overstuffed couch. My man placed a hand upon each of my hips as he drove deep into my love nest. As he thrust over and over, his thumbs continued to knead my punished orbs. This intoxicating mixture of sensation pushed me to a breathless climax. Moments later, my husband shook as he finished too.

Afterward, Randy helped me to my feet and we retired to the bedroom. There, we shared a well earned afternoon nap.

In retrospect, I realize that he was right. I do need to better manage my time. Now the question I face is, was our little chat a punishment or a reward?

Suddenly, I don’t feel sleepy anymore…

Continued in part two.

Keywords: spanking, vacation spanking, spanking stories