Rituals in Action

I really need to watch what I write in this blog. I receive a lot of positive feedback from the Spanking 101 articles. I’m always pleased when readers tell me that they adopt and adapt my suggestions. When my own husband gets ideas, however, that’s a different matter entirely.

Randy liked my essay about rituals. After he read it, he reminded me of a few of ours that I neglected to mention. In particular, he sometimes gives me a list of toys for the evening and then asks me to lay them out on the bed. He also thought I should mention having to explicitly request my spanking.

Last night, Randy wanted to see whether he could manage to touch all of the rituals I mentioned. He didn’t actually hit every one, but he covered the majority of the list.

• I fetched the slapper
• I lowered my jeans and underwear
• I bent over his lap
• I counted the (ouch!) strokes

When he decided I had received my fair share of swats, he directed me to stand in the corner. This is not one of our regular rituals. I suppose we’ve done it before as a kind of submissiveness test, but it’s been ages. At this point, I was feeling well spanked and in the mood for almost anything. I would much rather have moved straight to the bed, but for the time being, I was willing to play along.

So there I stood with my nose in the corner and my pants at my ankles. I could tell that Randy was enjoying the view, but this arrangement wasn’t doing much for me. He left the room for a moment with the instruction, “Stay right there.” When he returned, I thought I heard him chuckle. As soon as I turned to see, he commanded me to get my nose back in the corner. I decided the whole business was silly and pointless. Instead of making love, we’re doing what?

                  Flash!

For a split second, my little corner was brightly illuminated. That mumble-frumble took my picture while I was standing there like that! I totally didn’t know what to say.

Years ago, he took a lot of pictures of me. In those days, we used conventional film that had to be developed in a darkroom. We weren’t about to give those kind of pictures to a commercial service, so we did it ourselves. The funny part was that I knew how to develop photographs and he didn’t. As a result, there were a number of unflattering pictures that simply didn’t turn out. Oh well.

With the digital camera, the game has changed completely. It’s his and he shoots what he likes. I don’t like to have my picture taken, and least of all at a moment like that. He knows this, and until yesterday, had displayed admirable restraint.

I wanted to give Randy a piece of my mind for violating what I thought was an implicit understanding. But I just couldn’t. He was giddy about his digital study in pink. He told me that he was delighted by how well the picture turned out and wanted to show me. Reluctantly, I gazed at the tiny monitor on the back of his camera. Even at two inches square and blurry, I hated it.

“That never goes anywhere!” I insisted.

“Don’t worry. It’s in safe hands.” Cautiously, I believed him. “Until you leave me,” he continued, “Then I’ll post it on Flickr.” I rolled my eyes and pulled up my pants.

“Not so fast!” Randy purposefully removed his clothes and then mine. After a quick but efficient hand spanking, we made love on top of the bed. He used his tongue to find the epicenter of my pleasure. Within a couple of minutes, he had me writhing and bucking with orgasmic release. He squeezed my stinging buttocks to compound the flurry of sensations.

After I finished, he turned me over and brought me to a kneeling position with my head down. There, he joined me from behind. My body offered no resistance. That irresistible slippery sliding in-and-out movement relit the flames of my passion. He found the friction fabulous as well. His completion was powerful and sudden. My lover gasped deeply and clung tightly to my hips as he delivered his contribution. By this time, I too was comfortably lost in the mists of joy that surrounded us. We ultimately collapsed, together and entangled.

Later, as we snuggled under the covers, I asked Randy, “So why the picture?” He grinned and gave me the answer I least wanted to hear. “Oh, that. It’s our newest ritual.”

I wonder if there is some way I can ban him from reading this blog…

Keywords: spanking, spanking rituals, spanking stories