Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Make Mine Well Done

Man Oh Man. What did I *think* would happen after I posted a silly poem that repeated the phrase “spank me” exactly 27 times?

I wanted a spanking. No question. I asked for it. I told the whole wide world. There’s no denying that.

There’s also no denying the fact that my dear spouse reads this blog. He has no patience for what he calls the “idle chit-chat” of the blogging world, but he does read my posts. What’s more, he takes seriously his role as chief spanker in this house. I meant the poem as lighthearted fun. Randy took issue with the implication that he had been neglecting his solemn duties. Last night, he rectified the situation.

I knew I was in for it when he called from work and asked me about my poem. I mumbled something about early morning and having fun and the blog before he stopped me.

“When I get home from work tonight, I intend to deal with this matter in the traditional fashion.”

Ooo. I love it when he talks likes that. As Spanko Girl might say, it makes me all swoony.

“Prior to my arrival, I expect you to pull down your pants and bend over the back of the couch. That wooden hairbrush should be close at hand.”

I shuddered with multiple emotions – thrill, dread, anticipation, fear, arousal, submission, and perhaps a couple more for which I don’t have convenient names. This would surely be a spanking to remember.

I spent the next few hours working hard at nothing. I visited blogs and answered some mail messages. All the while, my mind was on the hairbrush resting upon the desk just a couple feet away from my bottom. This well-used spanking implement would soon, I imagined, come a whole lot closer.

As my mind was drifting away, I detected the sound of a garage door opening. The time of reckoning had arrived. I rushed into the living room, bared my target as instructed, placed the fearsome brush beside me, and bent all the way over the back of the couch.

I’m sure I waited no more than five minutes, but from my perspective over the couch, it seemed an eternity. As I lay in that embarrassing position, I found myself nervously examining a worn spot on one of the couch cushions. It is with dark irony that I mused that my own cushions would shortly look worn as well.

I heard Randy bound up the steps and into the kitchen. I heard him take off his jacket. He then strode into the living room where I was on display, precisely as he directed.

“Very good. I see you recognize that there is no sense in stretching this out. Now then, let’s get down to business.”

My husband pulled from his shirt pocket a folded piece of paper. He opened the page and read from it.

“Poem: Spank Me.”

Uh oh. I could see where this discussion was headed. Randy picked up the infernal hairbrush and began to rub it against my exposed sit-spots. The polished wooden back felt cool and smooth.

“Did you write this?”

I briefly weighed offering a smart answer, but sanity prevailed. I nodded in the affirmative.

The response I received was about six well-placed swats across my bottom. They felt like full strength and burned like a flame. I jerked, but stayed in place.

Randy then proceeded to read each line of the poem, spanking as he went. By the time he got to the Burma Shave line, I was howling in acute discomfort. He gave my poor bottom a very thorough workout with that heavy wooden brush. It really, really hurt! The only words I could mange to get out were “Ow, ow, ow!”

As quickly as it began, my spanking abruptly concluded. Randy lifted me off the couch back and embraced me with his strong arms. He was again my gentle lover. “Let’s go upstairs,” he whispered in my ear. Once we arrived, my remaining clothes and inhibitions were both quickly discarded. I rubbed his manly shaft between my tongue and palette. I licked, sucked, kissed, and fondled the cyclops until he fired his round down my eager throat.

We then moved to the bed where my lover applied a blue torpedo-shaped vibrator to a most sensitive spot. When I achieved climax a few minutes later, I found myself screaming and shaking with delight. Now, that scratched my itch!

After the fireworks ended, I found myself over Randy’s lap at the edge of the bed. This was a position in which I have been spanked countless times. On this occasion, however, no more spanking was forthcoming. Instead, Randy retrieved some cream from the nightstand and spread it thinly across my punished behind. The cream felt cool and good once it was applied, but the actual contact amplified the very evident after-burn.

We retired soon thereafter. For the first time in a week, I enjoyed the sleep of the contented.

In retrospect, I got precisely the spanking I requested. It also happened to be the spanking I deserved. In the future, I won’t hesitate to ask, but I might be a little bit more specific!

All day today, I’ve carried around the unavoidable memory of this incredible spanking. Yes, sitting has been dicey, but the biggest change has been the spring in my step and the smile on my face. It’s been a good day!

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9 comments :

naughty_one said...

"I spent the next few hours working hard at nothing."

Oh how I can relate that deceptively simple statement!

Those ten words managed to bring all the feelings that go along with the anticipation of a sound spanking rushing back when I read them, and I find *that* swoony indeed!

Thank you ;)

wind walker said...

fabulous spanking story....

you are such an expressive writer, one of the best on the web.

little one said...

What a wonderful moments in time that had to have been. :) So beautifully written Bonnie.

This line made me giggle, "It is with dark irony that I mused that my own cushions would shortly look worn as well." :) Thanks for sharing such an eloquent recount Bonnie.

dwcmike said...

I have found that if you really need a spanking, then ask and your lover will satisfy your desire. Like you, knowing that the spanking will occur later in the day even enhances the spanking. Glad your poem worked for you, it also helped me.
Mike

rivka said...

=) Very nice story. I've lurked your blog for a while and figured it's about time I actually leave a comment, lol. I enjoyed your previous two posts just as much. Thank you for your wonderful additions to the web.

Edward said...

I figured that poem would get you a spanking!I'm a bit new to this whole spanking thing ,but I'm catching on.My wife is doing similar things and more to get my attention.Or a specific kind of attention I guess you could say!

Lisa said...

Thank you for sharing, I love the details you put into your stories. I have been learning of fun ways to request spankings from Edward too.

Bonnie said...

Naughty - The anticipation can paradoxically be both the best part and the worst part of this experience.

Even though we have a pretty good idea what is going to happen, there's still that feeling of overwhelming uncertainty.

Wind - Thank you!

Little - At that particular moment, it seemed oddly unfunny. Now that the smoke has cleared, it's a hoot!

Mike - Yep, that poem seems to do the trick all right. Should anyone else care to use it for similar purposes, be my guest.

Janeen - I have no doubt that he walked in the door with one purpose. OK, maybe two... :)

I guess I never thought about there being foreplay for the spanking, but that's exactly the way it works.

Storm - Thanks. Randy's tone was firm and gruff, but through it all, I knew that he wasn't really upset. He just saw a golden opportunity to light me up. I never have to ask twice.

Rivka - Welcome to MBS! Please feel free to comment (or lurk) as you please.

Edward - You were so right. My words worked much better than I had anticipated! It sounds like you two are doing great.

Lisa - Thanks. I find that Randy doesn't care if I ask. In fact, he enjoys it. The only catch is that a requested spanking at our house is always longer and more severe than the times when he initiates.

Anonymous said...

knowing she is very mad at me i knew my bottom would be tanned real hard. the first command was, get naked, bring me the hairbrush and get over my knees. after adnitting my wrong doing she picked up thr brush and told me i was going to get a whipping i wont soon forget. ohh did it sting and as i beggeed for her to stop the tears came and i knew my poor backside was getting it full force. this was a spanking i would not soon forget. when she finally stopped i got up and began to massgge those red cheeks. it was painful to sit all evening and i assured her i didnt want a spanking like that again.

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