A Spanking for a Lazy Sunday Afternoon

A reader with whom I correspond asked me to describe a recent spanking. This is not one of those well planned and carefully executed spanking sessions you will find documented elsewhere on this blog. It wasn’t recorded, so I am telling the story the next day from memory.

Some weekends are filled with chores, appointments, and responsibilities – all the stuff we hadn’t time to complete during the week. Not so this particular Sunday. It was a precious commitment-free day off.

But not a day off from spanking! In fact, it was an ideal opportunity to enjoy our favorite aerobic exercise. Randy was up and showered and dressed, but I was still lounging around in my long pink flannel nightie. It’s not the sexiest sleepwear I own, but it’s cold where we live.

We were settled in on the living room couch, the site of numerous past spankings. We were watching a movie, but I soon lost interest in favor of a better idea. I stood up, lifted my nightgown and waited for my prince to move to the center of the couch. Bright fellow, he caught on quickly and plucked our small leather paddle from a nearby table. I arranged myself facedown across his lap in the time-honored corporal punishment position.

“So, please remind me,” he inquired with a hint of amusement in his voice. “Why are you getting paddled again so soon?”

“I’m a lazy girl. It’s almost one o’clock and I am barely out of bed.”

“Oh, yes, you are. And you definitely need to be punished.”

Despite the punishment talk, what followed was a most pleasant bottom warming. It hurt, as it should, but the pace was leisurely befitting a quiet Sunday. When I jumped in response to several quick pops in the same spot, he responded by grabbing the back of my pink thong panties. Now that I was safely secured, he continued paddling in earnest.

Did I mention that I love that little flexible, roundish paddle? It’s nice and stingy, generates a wonderful warm glow, and the smacking sound it makes as it repeatedly impacts against my bare skin is impressive. Getting spanked by my lover makes me happy.

Perhaps my favorite part of this particular spanking was that it wasn’t one of those thirty thunderous swats and you’re done variety. Randy could sense that I was into it, so he just kept going. Every so often, he would pause. I then arched my back to raise my stinging bottom toward the source of my discomfort. And on we went. It was lovely. There was no rush. Just lots of welcome whacks.

Eventually, we decided to quit for lunch. As I stood, I was confronted with the full consequences of what just happened to my bottom. It hurt more than I expected. That friendly little paddle left an impression back there. As I rubbed my chastened cheeks, they were hot to the touch and still quite sore.

“What’s the matter, Bon? Did I spank you too hard?”

“No, it was perfect. Just hurts.”

With that my lifelong lover retrieved some moisturizing lotion, sat back on the couch, and beckoned me to return. I did. He applied a generous portion of the gooey stuff all over my blazing sit spots. The lotion felt cool and good, but each touch reminded me of my posterior predicament.

The rest of the day was mellow and fun. It was just the break we needed.

So that’s how I got a Sunday spanking. I hope we do this next Sunday too.