Why is the Paddle Across My Pillow?

Why Is The Paddle Across My Pillow?

For the last few months I have been working like a fiend. Up until last week, I would leave the house at 6am and return home around 8pm to simply fall into bed and start the process all over again the next day. I managed to make time for friends and for my husband, but housework was not a priority. My husband also works long hours, but in addition he managed to do the housework and shop for groceries, all with just simple reminders to me that I was not doing my share. Each reminder I would promise to do better.

Well, on Monday I called Thomas at work in the morning and told him I would be home early. He was surprised. He said something along the lines that we would finally have some quality time together. I grinned back over the phone, thinking that he was talking about anything but a discipline spanking.

I walked in the door of our bedroom Monday afternoon to find, to my immediate heart stoppage, the three foot, thick, and holed paddle lying across my pillow. I froze in the bedroom doorway. What had I done? The paddle? No way. What had I done?

And then I realized, I was slacking off, and doing nowhere near my share of anything. I knew I was in for it. So, stupid me, I called him. "Thomas, why is the paddle on my pillow?"

He laughed at that question. "I put it there over lunch today to remind me that you are getting a paddling tonight for not doing your chores and putting everything else first. It has been way too long since that bottom of yours had a good dose of that paddle. Now, you have one hour before I get home, I had better be overly impressed with the looks of that house when I get home young lady."

I looked around the house, devastated. He had not done any housework all weekend, obviously preparing for this encounter, and of course I had not done any and I had not even noticed how dirty it could become when left alone. I scrambled, started laundry, managed to clean the kitchen and the bathroom, but really did not even scratch the surface of the mess. I heard the front door click open as I scrambled to empty the washer. He was home and I was dead.

"Tara Marie, come in here." He said in his deep voice. Slowly I entered the living room. "I expect your bottom bared and well positioned over the bed when I get in there. Is that understood?"

"Yes Sir," I stammered back. I headed to the bedroom, took off my clothes and positioned myself on the bed, already dreading the feel of that cold, hard, hole-filled paddle against my bare bottom. Discipline spankings are never, ever fun. There is never a warm up, and they are always delivered slowly and with much force. I know the rules, hold position and make sure that ass does not move from position, because an aggravated 300 pound NY Italian is a scary thing to have swinging a paddle.

I waited, and I waited and I waited, shivering in the cold of the AC blowing on me. Finally I heard him come in, but I knew better than to look back at him. I felt him pick up the paddle and slowly brush it across my quivering, not-yet-paddled-but-soon-to-be-raw bottom. WHACK The first strike took me by surprise. It hurt like hell. Everything burned and it took every ounce of me to hold position.

"Now, Tara Marie, do you know why you are going to be paddled?"

"Yes Sir" I croaked back.

"And why is that young lady?" Again I felt the hard wood of the paddle lingering against my bottom.

WHACK

I guess I did not answer fast enough, because that whack sent me out of position. It burnt, It felt raw back there and we had just started! I quickly raised my bottom back up, knowing another was right behind for breaking position. WHACK

"I have been doing everything but my share of the housework lately. I am sorry Thomas. I promise I will do my share, please, not so hard, please."

Again the paddle lingered, just touching my warming bottom. I felt him lean over to me on the bed and then into my ear he said, "Am I so hard on you that you feel you have too many chores around here?"

"No Sir" I quickly responded. "I knew he did way more than most spouses ever do, plus all the grocery shopping."

"What exactly are your chores young lady?" He asked, still leaning over me with the paddle resting on my bottom.

"Laundry, pick up after myself, the dogs, empty the dish washer and clean the bathroom."

He stood up and took the paddle. I heard it whish through the air. WHACK

"And, Tara Marie, do you think that is too much to ask, even if you work more hours and have a longer commute?"

"No Sir. I am so sorry. I will never slack off again. I know you do way more chores than me. PLEASE THOMAS"

"I know you will not slack off again any time soon." As he said that he wound up and delivered another stinging whack to my bottom.

"I am thinking of a number of swats that you should receive", he stated as the paddle re-aligned itself against my stinging/burning behind. "If you guess under, we add the difference times two, if you guess over, you get that amount. How many more swats do you deserve Tara Marie?"

My heart dropped. I already was struggling to hold position. My head was pounding, my butt felt as if the skin was already gone. I could picture the welts and the blisters forming. I knew I had it coming, but he seemed pretty calm, just disappointed in me more than anything. But, if he really was mad and I guessed under, I was toast.

"10" I stammered, my eyes tearing and my nose running.

"Well, I would have said eight, so ten it is. DO NOT BREAK THAT POSITION, Is that understood?"

"Yes Sir"

WHACK

"One, Thank you Sir." My butt was on fire, he was hitting hard, really hard. My face burned.

WHACK

"Two, Thank you Sir." Yep, definite lasting marks. Sitting will be a problem.

WHACK

"Three---WHACK WHACK

"Five. Thank You SIr." "Please T, no more, I promise" I was sweating now, my legs quivered from presenting my bottom for punishment.

WHACK

Sobbing now, "Six Thank You Sir."

WHACK Your chores are to be done each week by bedtime on Sunday. I will not tolerate this selfish behavior any longer.

"Yes Sir, Seven Thank YOu Sir."

WHACK "You will be paddled each and every Monday if they are not done, and, Tara Marie, it will be worse than this."

"Yes Sir, Eight thank You Sir."

WHACK "Do not break that position"

"Nine Thank You Sir" (I am sure I breathed a sigh of relief, because the last one is usually not that hard.)

WHACK The tenth hit harder than ever. It sent me flopping to the mattress, bawling, hands reaching back. I was on fire.

"What did you just do?!?!"

"No, Thomas, please, no more, no more. I couldn't help it, it hurt so badly." I Cried as I slowly and gingerly thrust my very tight, throbbing bottom back towards the paddle's path.

"You have one more coming."

WHACK

"Eleven, Thank YOu Sir." The tears just burst forth. I felt terrible.

"Alright, you can relax." Thomas said in his now deep and smooth voice. As he said it, he grabbed me in his arms. I curled my naked body up on his lap and cried into his broad chest while he rubbed my head. My bottom throbbed in pain, sending piercing bolts through me each time it touched a blanket differently, but it was a good pain. I had taken my punishment and things were okay. I truly felt closure to the entire situation, and a new commitment to my share of the housework.

Needless to say, today is Thursday and this paddled bottom is finally feeling back to normal. Also, the laundry is almost done for the week and I have full plans to clean the bathroom on Saturday. In addition, a few of his chores have been done for him this week, but who knows if that will last.