Randy’s Latest Bright Idea

As I have documented often, my dear husband is a veritable fountain of reasons to beat my bottom. One might think that after all of these years, he would have exhausted this resource, but that is clearly not the case.

After work on Friday, with his encouragement, I prepared dinner while wearing nothing but an apron, a thong, and my socks (hey, it’s winter!). Mercifully, he turned up the furnace. I had little doubt that I would encounter a less merciful form of heat after dinner.

As it turned out, I didn’t even have to wait that long. I was preparing a baked dish that required twenty minutes in the oven. Randy took this as an opportunity to begin our evening together. I quickly found myself in that familiar punishment position, on the couch, face down, and across his lap. He proceeded to whack my bottom with our small roundish leather paddle. It delivers a nice sting and leaves me with glowing red cheeks. I was just starting to sync myself with his rhythm and enjoy the rising heat when he stopped unexpectedly.

“Where’s your phone?”

“Uh, I dunno. On the counter?”

“Go get it.”

“All right, but...”

“Now, get in the bathroom and take a selfie of your ass.”

“Wha...?”

“You heard me. Send your selfie to me and if I like it, your spanking can be over.”

I didn’t respond. I did, however, do as he asked, more or less. When I looked in the mirror, my bottom was quite red and indeed worthy of a picture. I made several attempts at a selfie, all with disappointing results. How do people even do that?

As I became increasingly frustrated with my assignment, I decided it wasn’t fair. Taking pictures is his job. Besides, maybe I didn’t want my spanking to be over yet. I sent him a picture of my hip with just a bit of reddened bottom visible.

I then sauntered back into the living room swishing my apron as though it were a skirt. He already had my photo up on his phone.

“Is this it?”

“Yes,” I replied in a coy voice.

“I can see you’re going to need a photography lesson. Let’s go upstairs.”

I was pretty certain that this lesson wasn’t going to cover focal lengths or aperture timings. My guess was correct. This lesson was all about motivation.

“Assume the position.” Those words gave me chills of anticipation, as they always do.

I knelt on the bed with my head down and bottom raised, ideally situated for a serious corporal punishment. I didn’t have to guess about his weapon of choice because he announced it.

“Last time, you got the little leather paddle. This time, it going to be hardwood. And next time, you’d better hope there isn’t a next time, it will be lexan.”

I was quite certain that I didn’t want that last option. Today was going to have to be the day when I learned how to take a selfie of my butt.

Randy placed the cool, smooth surface of the paddle against my left cheek. He pressed against my skin as he moved it in a circular motion. I could still feel residual sting from the previous round, but I knew that would be soon forgotten amid the assault to follow.

“So what are you going to do after I’m finished?”

“Take a selfie”

He swatted me hard several times on each cheek. The whacks left behind a burning sensation. I was officially on notice that this would be a serious spanking.

“What kind of selfie?”

“A selfie of my bottom.”

More painful swats arrived in a slow and steady pattern. I reminded myself that this could have been avoided, but that notion did little to alleviate my current predicament.

After a flurry of forceful strikes all over my posterior, I suddenly perceived a different priority.

        Bzzzzzzzzzzzzz!

It was the timer alarm for the oven, an unmistakable sound, even a floor away in the bedroom.

“I’ll go take it out and you go take your selfie.” I was saved by the buzz. This time, I invested a bit more effort on Randy’s picture. After several tries, I managed to use the mirror to get my entire bottom in the shot before the color faded. I sent it to Randy and put my clothes back on. The rest of me of me was cold!

I came downstairs to find my love dishing up our dinner. He said he was very pleased with my second selfie. I told him I was grateful for that as I rubbed my roasted bottom. We had tasty dinner together on the couch where this adventure began.

After dinner, we watched some TV. I lay across Randy’s lap again, but this time he massaged moisturizing lotion into my sore flesh. Eventually, he located a spot that was not sore and required no additional moisture. That felt good too. Well, one thing led to another, as it often does, and we passionately celebrated our joining.

I suppose I could order a selfie stick, but Randy would probably figure out a way to spank me with it. Maybe I’ll just stand pat, if only because it hurts when I sit!