Pulling up to the house after a long day at work my heart jumped, and not in a good way. My husband's car was in the driveway, three hours before he normally arrives home from work. This was not a good sign. Last night we had gone to bed initially quite happy with each other, or so he thought. But, as we lay in bed talking I became more and more frustrated with him over little things I did not feel he was helping with around the house. I did not discuss things calmly, but instead lit in to him to the point that he finally left the room to watch TV until he cooled down. I fell asleep upset but felt justified in what I told him, because I felt I had been doing everything around the house lately, and it was also my busiest season at work, with full days plus meetings every night.
That next morning I woke up at my normal time, but left the house without kissing him on the cheek or much less even bothering to wake him up to say goodbye. Instead, I slammed the front door on my way out of the house and did not make him a lunch, something I do every day out of love. At work, I never bothered to call or text him and he never called me.
I entered the house to see him sitting on the couch working from home. A basket of folded laundry was on the kitchen table. I said nothing, but sat down on the chair next to him in a huff, assuming we would talk it out.
"If that is how your attitude is going to be you might as well go upstairs right now." He said.
I ignored him, watching intently Law and Order on TNT. I knew he was about to spank me, but I still felt I was right and justified in going off on him about not doing his fair share around the house.
"Don't make me say it twice."
I stood up and pounded past him up the steps, refusing to look at him. Upstairs I was fuming. How dare he spank me when he was the one who was not doing his share of the work! I went into the bathroom.
I heard him coming up the steps after me and before I could get my pants all the way back up he was in the doorway. "Leave those off and get over the bed."
"You can't just hit me whenever you want to." (I purposely used the word hit to make him feel guilty.) I said as I walked past him, removing my slacks and underwear and then bunching the comforter and assuming my position, bared bottom high on the bed.
I purposely turned my head away from him, determined to not even flinch, no matter how hard he spanked me.
He sat down on the bed next to me. His large hand came down hard on my exposed bare bottom. Three times hard to the same cheek and then three times to the other cheek. I held my breath, keeping still.
"Now, speak." He said.
I proceeded to tell him how frustrated I was that it felt like lately I had been doing all the housework, plus working almost time and a half as this is the busiest time of the year for me. He listened patiently as I talked.
"May I talk now?"
"Yes Sir" I responded, slowly realizing that I was definitely over-reacting, and maybe PMSing too.
"Tara, did we not just close on the refinancing of the house on Monday?"
"Yes Sir" (gulp)
"Did I not just tie up all the loose ends regarding the fence outside and my mom's nursing care?"
"Yes Sir"
"Do you understand that this is an exceptionally busy time for me at work as well?"
"Yes Sir."
"Well then, can you see why bringing up the laundry from the basement and vacuuming the steps was not high on my priority list?"
"Yes Sir" (Now I felt really tiny)
"Good. Get the lexan."
I stood and retrieved the lexan, heart pounding. I handed it respectfully to him and assumed my position back over the bunched up comforter.
WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK
"That is for not coming to me calmly to talk things out."
"Yes Sir." Wow that burned.
WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK
"That is for your attitude today."
"Yes Sir" My eyes were tearing up a bit now and the fire had definitely taken off in my bottom.
WHACK WHACK - two more exceptionally hard spanks hit right across the center sit spot, taking my breath away.
"Those are because I can and will "hit" you anytime I want. Is that clear?"
"Yes Sir" I laid still, catching my breath, listening to him breathe.
"Am I done Sir?"
"You are done, put away your paddle and come here."
I put the paddle under the bed and then rolled over into his loving arms, bottom throbbing, but my heart at peace.
The benefits of a spanking now and then are just wonderful, even if it hurts.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Giants Vs. Patriots
Both Thomas and I have been off of work for the last week. This is the first time in a long time that we have had this much vacation time together at home without interruption or guests. In our house, time together equals spankings, and me having the time to write about them. So here is one more true account of a recent spanking. I do not mind being spanked one little bit (except for the severe ones), and a few days of good spanking fun has made this vacation well worth it.
We love football. Last night our favorite team the Giants took on the Patriots. All day long we contemplated going out to a bar to watch the game vs staying home. At 5:00pm I went downstairs to discuss with Thomas the events of the evening.
“Hun, we going out or what?” I asked, not really caring either way. (I was still in my pj’s believe it or not.)
“I think we will stay in and watch the game.”
“Okay.” I responded, secretly relieved. I then turned around to go back upstairs to mess around on the Internet a little longer.
“Tara, I think you will be spanked during the game tonight.” Thomas said as I walked past him to go upstairs.
I stopped in my tracks, my stomach skipped a beat, and I turned around to go sit on his lap and try to get the details out of him. (I had been spanked quite hard that morning on a still tender bottom from a maintenance spanking a couple of days prior.)
“Oh really.” I said to Thomas as I stroked his face with my hand.
“Really. For every point the Giants score you will get a smack with the hand, for every point the Patriots score you will get a smack with the bath brush.”
“Thomas,” I said feeling a little scared b/c my bottom was already very bruised and the Patriots were supposed to trample the Giants. “I can’t take that many with the brush, honest.”
“You may wear one set of underwear and one garment. You won’t get it on the bare.”
“Thanks!” I kissed him and went upstairs to contemplate my wardrobe. I was really quite excited and only a little apprehensive.
I came back down to eat dinner around 7pm. He had reheated leftovers. As I walked through the den into the kitchen I placed the evil bath brush on the ottoman. We finished eating and moved into the den to watch the game.
“Very good Baby, I see you thought ahead.” Thomas said as he cozied in to his favorite chair. He picked up the brush and started spinning it in his hand. “I think we need to have a little trial run. “Over, head facing the love seat.”
I climbed over the ottoman, positioning my bottom.
“First the hand.”
He proceeded to give me twenty with his hand in the perfect spots to get me all warm and fuzzy inside, and very turned on. I had no problem holding position. He stayed away from the tender spots from my previous spankings.
“Now the bath brush. Hold still.” He rubbed me a bit and then lit into me with 7 sharp smacks with the brush.
“OUCH!” I pretty much yelled as I shot up after the shots. As I settled in to the couch I softly cheered, “Go Giants.”
Thomas laughed, “I hope so!”
Within minutes the Giants scored 7 points. I happily climbed over the ottoman for my hand spanking. He gave me a solid seven, but I stayed put so he gave me seven more. I kissed him and settled back onto the couch. (I love the hand!)
Before I even knew what was happening I hear the announcer say, “This time Tom Brady will settle for the field goal.” I again climbed over the ottoman, this time worried about the intensity of his strikes with the brush.
Thomas did not hold back, three hard hits with the brush. I quickly resumed my spot on the couch, moping just a bit. It hurt! Within seconds though I was back to my normal self, commenting on every play of the game.
Minutes later the Patriots had the ball again…Brady passed to Moss – Touchdown Patriots. Not only a touchdown, but all records were broken. Again, I went over the ottoman for the brush....
Thomas hit me hard seven times, starting with the opposite cheek this time. I yelped and slip across the wood floor on my knees a bit during the spanking.
“Tara Marie, that was unacceptable. Move again like that during a spanking and you will get it triple. Am I clear?”
“Yes Sir.” I meekly responded as I climbed back under my blanket… I felt like all the wind had been taken out of my sails. That brush really hurt, even if it was over sweat pants and my thickest pair of cotton undies.
The Patriots kicked off and Hixon (Giants player) returned the kickoff 74 yards for a touchdown… That meant seven wonderful hand spanks. The life was back in my sails as I climbed over the ottoman for my hand spanking. Thomas spanked me hard seven times, and again I stayed put.
“I swear honey, if you keep spanking me in that spot I will orgasm.” I said feeling very aroused.
“Where?” Thomas replied, “Here and here?”
He whacked me hard 2 times with the brush instead of the hand.
“Yikes.” I jumped up and returned to the couch. (Grrr… men never want to have any sex if football is on… the hint did not even seem to register.)
The first half continued with a few more with the brush and quite a few more with the hand. I continued to comment on pretty much every play called. At the end of the first half I had accrued 16 with the brush and 21 with the hand… things were looking pretty good for me and the Giants, as they headed into the locker room having given the Patriots a very hard time in the first half.
I got up to get another beer. “Thomas, you want another beer?” I called from the kitchen.
“No hun. Prepare yourself a couple slivers of ginger though while you are in there. That should cool your jets and your commentary a little.”
“What?” I said in utter disbelief. Not only did he catch me off guard, but ginger for me is something I love the thought of, but when it is actually in, it hurts like HELL. My stomach immediately entered my throat and every part of my womanly insides started to throb.
“Do I have to soak them?” I called back in a slightly shaky voice as I reached into the veggie drawer to prepare the ginger. Every bit of me was on fire from the thought of what was to come.
“No, just run them under a little cold water and bring them here.” He replied. I could tell he was smiling just by the way he responded.
I came back with a small plug of ginger for one area and a sliver of ginger for the other womanly area.
“Lower your sweats and lay on the couch. I will put them in for you.”
I laid down on my back and raised my legs just as the half started. I was eating humble pie as he inserted both pieces of ginger and I pulled my pants and underwear back up. Within 30 seconds the burning started and I did my best to hold still. I dared not ask to take them out. (I have asked in the past and the consequence is more time and a discipline spanking.) He calls ginger my pacifier. If anything makes me submissive and keeps me submissive, it is ginger. I offered no more commentary on the game. Instead, I kept looking straight ahead trying my hardest to stay focused on the TV, even though nothing the announcer said registered in my little blonde head.
Manning passed to Plexico and the Giants scored 7 more points. (I knew that because he cheered loudly.) Even with the ginger in, I willingly climbed over the ottoman for my seven with the hand. By then, I was very aroused, yet felt completely submissive.
After my 7 spanks I could not sit still on the couch. The pain was INTENSE. The ginger was very fresh and very potent, and I was begging (without talking) for mercy. And then, the Patriots scored….
I climbed over the ottoman, very reluctantly, and raised my bottom for the spanking. Thomas never ever lets up, and he spanked me seven times at full force with the bath brush.
I stayed still after he finished. I was hurting from the ginger and the brush, but I really needed the ginger out.
“Please Sir, I’ll do anything. May I take it out?” I pleaded quietly, almost positive he was going to say no and lower my pants right there and paddle me good for asking.
“Anything?” Thomas responded in a very quizzical voice, smiling broadly.
“Anything!!!” I almost shouted back at him in relief. He knew I was at my breaking point. I was still staring at the wood floor, hoping for a small miracle.
“All right then. Go take it out baby.”
I jumped up and scurried into the bathroom. The great thing about ginger is, once it is out the pain goes away almost instantly. I came skipping back into the room, kissed Thomas thoroughly, grabbed my beer and settled back in to the couch.
The Patriots scored again on a long pass to Moss and then, to make matters worse they went for two, earning me 8 swats with the brush.
The game continued. In total I took 22 swats with the brush in a row before the Giants finally scored again. All those points earned me a well spanked bottom, complete with a couple of welts. The game ended, with the Giants losing 35 to 38.
“Tara, I think you need to console me upstairs.” Thomas looked over at me and smiled broadly.
“Could I get a little more with the hand first?” I grinned back.
“Meet me in the bedroom young lady, ass up.”
I scurried upstairs as Thomas walked the dogs. I heard him coming up the steps. He spanked me a little more over my sweats with his hand… and then I thoroughly consoled him to make up for the loss of his team, the Giants. Another great day of spanking. Too bad we both go back to work on Wednesday.
Always Put the Yard Tools Away (2007)
I was busy preparing to put up our Christmas decorations on the front bushes and awnings of the house. Prior
to adding the lights, and before my husband came out to help I set
about pulling out all the dead or almost dead summer flowers from
around the front bushes. I threw the dead rooted plants onto the grass.
“Hun, you want some help?” Thomas’ voice surprised me from within the garage.
“Sure. You want to give me a leaf bag and I will throw these plants in there.” I responded.
Thomas came around with the large brown leaf bag and began throwing the plants in.
“I am going to get the rake. One sec.” Thomas said.
My heart lept to my throat. “It’s okay. I can just use my hands.” Before I could finish the statement Thomas had walked back around the corner into the garage.
“Hun,” he shouted. “Where is the rake?”
“Uh, I don’t know. It’s not there?”
“No and neither is the pointed shovel or the clippers.”
I
busily went back to pulling plants and raking the dead leaves from
around the bushes in the front yard with my fingers, trying to get it
done before he came back out.
“Don’t worry about it T. I got it. I am almost done.”
“Do you think the lawn guys took them?”
“Uh, no.” I shakily responded.
Thomas picked up the bag and held it open. As I dropped the last of the dead plants into the bag my eyes caught his gaze, and it was not a happy look.
“Tara Marie, where are the yard tools?”
“I uh, think I might have had them over at Wendy’s new house this summer when we were cleaning her back yard.”
“And it is now November…. Why have they not been returned?” Thomas questioned, voice getting deeper and slower.
I
knew I was caught, might as well just come clean. “We uh, used them on
her yard right after she bought the house and I guess I never took
them back home.”
“You GUESS? Are they in her garage?”
“Well, no. I
might have left them sitting out against the shed and then I realized
it they were completely rusted, so we threw them out last month. I meant to buy new ones.”
“Tara, this happens all the TIME! This is why I hesitate to buy nice things.” His voice started to get louder.
“Thomas, shhhh… the neighbors.” I
warned, as I felt the butterflies bouncing in my stomach, knowing I
was in deep trouble, as I had a habit of not taking care of things and
allowing them to become broken or lost. My butt was about to get blistered.
Thomas glared at me and then picked up the leaf bag and walked it to the end of the driveway for garbage pick up. He then returned to where I was by the bushes testing lights in the outdoor outlet. He whispered in my ear, “Upstairs now. Leave your jeans on to start.”
To start….. Daring
not answer back I headed through the garage, removed my muddy boots
and walked upstairs, crawling on to the bed, kneeling and putting my
cheek to the bedspread. He had not specified the position, but I knew him well enough to have a very good guess as to what I was about to receive.
I listened, trying to ascertain exactly where he was in the house. My
mind raced… what was I getting… probably the big paddle, which is the
usual implement when I am told to leave my jeans on…
I heard his heavy steps on the stairs. Then, he was in the bedroom. In
his hands he held three of the long, green, bamboo-like stakes that I
use to hold up flowers in the summer. They were the tall ones, probably
four feet tall or so, very much like a cane, but more brittle.
Thomas took one of the green canes and swished it through the air. “I
found these in the garage in your garden cabinet. I think they will
do a wonderful job of reminding you to take care of our tools. Don’t you?”
“Yes Sir.” I squeaked.
Thomas placed the cane against my jean clad bottom. I cringed, bracing, thrilled I still had my jeans on.
“Oh,
no, these will wait for your bare naughty bottom. I just wanted to see
how they felt. I think we will start with the heavy wooden paddle.”
My heart sank.
Thomas
walked to the closet and retrieved the heavy holed frat paddle that I
dread so much. "Raise your bottom Tara Marie. Hold position and you
will only get six."
I raised my bottom, knowing more would not be wanted given what I still had to come.
WHACK The first strike landed perfectly across my tender sit spot, shooting shocking pain straight through me.
WHACK WHACK WHACK I managed to hold position, but the pain was pounding into my skull.
WHACK.
"Please T, It hurts so bad!"
"Hold still young lady. You are going to learn to take care of your toys."
"Bare your bottom for the last one naughty girl."
My
heart sank, he was set on blistering me. I went up on my knees and
lowered my jeans and panties, gauging how severe the paddle was to my
bottom. It was definitely burning now.
He
lightly tapped the heavy wooden paddle against my upturned bottom. I
knew it was going to burn like hell. I held my breath. He pulled back
and WHAP the wood connected with my naked bottom, flooding me with
pain. I held position, knowing I had a long way to go.
His
large hand felt my hot bottom and tapped me gently. "Keep this bottom
up young lady. What happens to naughty girls that do not put their
tools away?
"I get spanked Sir."
"That
is right." He picked up the green cane and held it against my blazing
sit spots. Then, without warning, his hand went back and SWISH the
first strike hit with good force. The sting from the switch was immediate and rushed through me as it connected with the center of my bottom. He waited a few seconds for the sting to set in and he then pulled back for a second strike. He proceeded to switch me from the top of my thighs to the top of my bottom. When he had finished ten strikes my backside was pretty well lit up and I had tears flowing softly. He
did not hit that hard, as the cane did not break, but he hit hard
enough for me to definitely feel it with great intensity.
“Have I made myself clear?” Thomas asked, setting the cane against the dresser.
“Yes Sir.” I responded, still holding position.
“Hmmmm....
I think we need to discuss this a little more. Get your hairbrush.” Thomas stated as he pulled the chair from beside
the dresser to the space by the bed.
I
stood and completely removed my jeans and panties, eyeing my dark red, striped
bottom in the mirror as I retrieved the hair brush from the night
stand and walked to the chair. I stood before him, scared, but also thankful for the spanking regiment as well. The fact that he spanks me when he knows I need it, no matter how much it hurts, always makes me secure and calm inside. I could tell he was not furious, just determined to get a point across.
Thomas took the brush from me and patted his lap. I climbed over, placing my hands flat on the carpet. He
positioned me to his liking and then gently tapped my bottom, tracing a
few of the marks from the switch lightly with is fingers. My heart was pounding in my bottom and I held my breath, waiting for him to start.
Without a word he started spanking me lightly with is hand and then harder and harder, keeping a steady pace. He paused and then reached down for the brush, causing my heart to race even more, but I knew not to talk. His left hand held my waist tightly and he held rubbed the cool wood against my bottom.
I braced for the brush, knowing that it was almost over, but that this would hurt the most. His hand went up and the brush came down hard and with a solid rhythm. He alternated cheek to cheek, down to the thighs and then across the center. Not with extreme force, but hard enough to definitely be remembered. I started to whimper and kick and he increased the intensity until I settled back down. He gave me four very hard final smacks and then set the brush on the floor and rubbed my blazing bottom.
He rubbed some of the heat out, tapping now and then and pinching here and there. I calmed down and laid still, focusing on his hand and the security of being over his lap. I also knew that although I was thoroughly spanked, it was not that bad on the scale of discipline spankings in our household.
He tapped my bottom twice. “Who loves you?”
“You do Sir” I responded.
“Good girl. Are you going to take better care of our tools?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Good. Up you go. Let’s get the lights up before it gets dark.”
I sat up and he kissed me on my forehead. “You sure you want to do the lights?” I asked
“I am sure Baby. That can wait till later.”
Maintenance (2009)
A few years ago Thomas and I had developed a system of maintenance spankings… every Wednesday at 7pm I was spanked. Time went on and we both were promoted at work and things just became so busy that the scheduled spankings faded away. Well, I asked him if we could start them up again as part of our New Year’s Resolutions a week early (That ordeal is a different story), and here is the true life account of my first maintenance spanking in quite a few years… There have been plenty of spankings, but the scheduled maintenance spankings had not been routine… until yesterday.
What was I thinking asking Thomas to start Maintenance Spankings again? Why do I do this to myself? Oh, yes, it is because I need it.
Well, there I sat at the kitchen table filling in my analysis of the past week. He had given me a checklist to fill in and I was doomed if I did and doomed if I didn’t as far as the answers. To make things worse, the lovely, yet awful ginger plug was securely in place and he was enjoying the view of his bare-bottomed wife squirming in her chair filling in the checklist.
Rate each item on a scale of 1-10:
Bathroom cleaned: 8
Closet door closed: 6
Bedroom/Bath counters clear: 6
Kitchen counters clear: 7
Dishes maintained: 7
Floors Swept: 8
Laundry maintained: 7
Lights turned off: 5
Bed Made: 10
Bedroom picked up: 7
Downstairs picked up: 6
Preparation for maintenance (plug, notification): 10
Cupboards/fridge organization maintained: 8
Respect: 5
Other infractions: 9
Grading Scale:
Hand – 120-115
Belt – 115-110
Wooden Lighter Paddle – 110-105
Wooden School Paddle – 105-100
Bath Brush -100-95
Lexan 95-90
Tawse 90-85
(All subject to change per Thomas)
“Tara Marie, are you finished?” Thomas’ deep voice carried into the kitchen from the den jolting my mind off the ginger plug and back to the discipline session of the moment.
“Yes Sir.”
“Well, bring it up to my office and we will review it.”
I delicately took the paper Excel spread sheet and led my husband up the steps and into his office, making sure to keep my cheeks tightly clenched to hold in the plug as I climbed the stairs. Standing in front of his large cherry desk, I handed the checklist across the workspace to him, eyes focused on his perfectly blotless blotter. (I hate that he is so neat!)
“Well, Tara Marie, I agree that these maintenance spankings are long past due. I hope you are aware that your answers had better not be much different than mine; you know the consequences.”
“Yes Sir.” I swallowed hard, praying that he would not be too strict. My bare bottom was fully exposed and I was scared. My husband is a wonderful man, but a severe, no nonsense spanker. The burn of the plug was beginning to wear off, but it was still very uncomfortable and the anticipation of the spanking to come was eating me inside.
“To the corner young lady and I will input your answers.”
I stood with my nose deep in the corner as we reviewed the list together. (Well, he did all the talking, I dared not argue.) My 7 on keeping the counters clear changed to a 4 and my 6 for keeping the downstairs picked up also was changed to a 4. He laughed at the 10 on making the bed… stating that he would go with it only because he had been off that week and was out of bed after me every day, making it his responsibility for making the bed. My 8 for keeping the refrigerator organized changed to a 4 as well. Finally, the “other infractions” I gave myself went from a 9 all the way down to a 5 as he reminded me of various bouts of attitude, slovenliness, and laziness.
“Tara, I kept the fridge organized and the pantry. You did a great job cooking for everyone, but you never put anything back in the same place it came from. You either left it on the counter of put it on a completely different shelf. That discrepancy will cost you.”
I swallowed hard from the corner. I could not believe he was being so strict. I heard him clicking on the computer as he entered the numbers on the spread sheet. Why do men love Excel and the little formulas so much?
“Tara Marie, your total is 96. Do you know what that gets you?”
“Yes Sir.” My heart sunk as I realized from memory that I was about to receive a thorough dose of the bath brush… and that was a minimum, as everything was to his discretion. I had gone from thinking I was getting the light wooden paddle to the heavy solid bath brush.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
I desperately wanted to tell him that it was not fair to be so rigid on the first week back of doing this. I had not known until that day that we were starting this back up, so the numbers would be low. Instead, I kept my thoughts to myself and simply answered, “No Sir, sorry Sir.”
“You will be. Your answers will cost you in severity. Look at me.”
I turned to look at him. I knew from his demeanor that he was not going to go lightly on me. I loved that fact, but it terrified me as well.
“The plug stays in. Go get the brush and wait for me in the corner.”
I turned and left the room and walked down the short hall into the bedroom. I placed the dreaded bath brush on the dresser. I removed the rest of my clothing (the top and socks, I was already bare-bottomed) and waited in the corner.
I heard him enter and pull the chair away from next to the dresser. (He also locked the dogs out, as they get very defensive when he spanks me.)
“Over.”
I carefully lowered myself over his lap. I grabbed the wooden rails of the chair and focused on the tan rug. He adjusted me, secured me in place with his arm and patted my bottom.
“Hold your position young lady.”
He began to spank my upturned bottom with his large hand. Slow at first, then increasing with speed and intensity. He spanked me thoroughly moving from cheek to cheek, down to my lower thighs, to the top of my cheeks and back across both cheeks at once with one hand. He stopped occasionally to rub and admonish me and poke at the plug, but he would then start right back up again. I remained quiet, holding back the tears, focusing on the plug and the deep warm pain pulsating through my entire body from both the spanking and the plug.
He stopped spanking and I felt him release me.
“Go take the plug out Tara Marie.”
I stood quickly and went in to the bathroom and removed the plug. I knew I had plenty of spanking still to come. I caught a quick glance of my already strawberry red bottom and thighs in the mirror and hurried back over my husband’s lap, afraid to take too long. He repositioned me and then waited, resting the bath brush on my warm bottom.
“Tara, I am waiting.” Thomas said as he rubbed and lightly patted the brush against my hot bottom.
My mind scrambled…. I almost stuttered, but then I remembered the routine…“Will you please paddle me Sir?” I asked, genuinely sorry now and truly scared of what was to come.
“And what implement do you deserve to be severely paddled with Tara Marie?”
I paused, sighed deeply and then responded in my most respectful voice, “The bath brush Sir.” My heart pounded in my throat.
Without warning he hit me very hard one time on each cheek in rapid succession. The pain from the strikes took a second to register, and then the sting seared into my backside. I clenched and then relaxed, kicking my legs up and raising my head by straightening my elbows. I knew instantly that those movements just guaranteed that he was about to thoroughly light up my backside.
“Tara Marie.”
Two more HARD whacks met each cheek. I held still this time. Then the rapid fire started. He worked in the same manner as he had with the hand, thoroughly punishing every inch of my bottom and upper thighs. I began to cry and wiggle. He held me tightly and intensified the spanking… fast then slow, hard then soft. I was on fire everywhere. He spread my cheeks and lit up every inch of the tender spots between the cheeks. I started to wriggle and cry. Panic started to set in, but he spanked me through it until I submitted and hung loose over his lap, crying hard. He continued to spank until he knew he had worn me out. I cried heavily as he spanked every bit of resistance out of me.
“Very good baby.” He rubbed my blazing bottom as he spoke. “You are very very well disciplined. You took that very well”
I sobbed as he continued to rub. “Are we finished young lady or do you need more.”
“No Sir.” I replied.
“No Sir we are not finished or No Sir I need more?” (Thomas knows me too well.)
“No Sir, I need more.” I whimpered. (Why I do that to myself I never know… I do not want to say it, but it always comes out.)
He rubbed my bottom. Everything burned and I could feel that my cheeks had already turned hard from the severe spanking. “Your bottom can’t take much more Tara. You will receive four more hard smacks and then you will be finished. You are to count them.”
My crying had slowed to a solid whimper and I braced myself for the strikes. He delivered four solid smacks two to my upper thighs and two to my bottom. I counted all four. When it was over he just rubbed me. I finally sensed that I was allowed to sit up; I kissed his neck and cuddled into his lap.
“You needed that, didn’t you?”
“Yes Sir.” He held me for a few more minutes and then patted my raw bottom as he lifted me off his lap.
“Clean up and we’ll watch a Netflix. Two came today in the mail.”
“What?” I responded back between sniffles. “No sex?”
“No, you know the rules, not after a maintenance spanking under 80%.”
I cleaned up and met him downstairs to watch “The Contract” or something like that. Needless to say, we had no sex last night, but this morning was another story. I have a feeling these Maintenance Spankings will be around for quite awhile.
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