Any Day Now
Mrs. Lion has been a bit under the weather. We canceled our trip to see “The Fantasticks.” It’s over an hour away to the theater. She needs to take it easy after work. Once she feels better, she plans to spank me. She intends to improvise since she hasn’t located her paddle collection boxes. She’s tried my hairbrush once or twice in the past. It is very effective. I just bought a bath brush. Believe it or not, I need to use it in the shower. I’m not unaware of its potential to bruise my bottom as well.
She surprised me when she said that she also hadn’t found the strap she used to keep me still on the spanking bench. No, I wasn’t surprised that she couldn’t find it. I was surprised she mentioned it. She said spanking me is much easier when I am strapped down. Live and learn. She was a little surprised that I wrote that my throat sometimes hurt after all my yelps and screams. It doesn’t happen too often.
Every time we move, some stuff disappears. In the move before this one, my point-and-shoot digital camera vanished. I bought a new one. I wonder if I shouldn’t order a new strap for the spanking bench. I’ll hold off until we’ve had a better chance of locating it.
We both know that too much time has passed since the last time I was spanked. Our routines have been disrupted between packing, moving, and unpacking. I’m not sure, but I think that Mrs. Lion also misses our disciplinary activities. After all, she has been spanking me for more than two decades. That’s a long time to be doing something you don’t particularly like.
One thing that I’ve wondered about is whether my vocal reactions to her swats affect her. On some occasions, she has preliminarily ended a spanking when I was making a lot of unhappy noises. Other times, she ignored my protests and continued far beyond the ten-minute timer. I’m always grateful when she stops early, but later, when the sting recedes, I wish she had continued. It’s probably better for both of us if she sends a consistent message that I can’t control a spanking. If she sets out to spank for ten minutes, then she should follow through.
I’ll be sorry I wrote this.
My Spanking
I know a spanking is coming. Whenever I think about it, I get a pleasant tingle “down there.” I can’t deny that I want my bottom paddled. When Mrs. Lion pulls out the spanking bench and motions for me to mount it, I start to feel myself getting hard. I don’t get an erection, but the sensation is there. I lie on the bench lengthwise, with my feet barely touching the floor. It feels good.
Mrs. Lion gets the strap and puts it around the bench and my waist. She cinches it tight like putting a saddle on a horse. I test its security. No, I can’t move my hips at all. I am pinned in position, unable to escape what I know is going to happen to me. I’m a little worried. It’s like that first hill on a roller coaster; you go up and up. It’s exciting, but you know you are in for a terrifying drop when you reach the top.
She starts with some warmup swats. They don’t hurt. I take a deep breath and enjoy the sensation. Then Mrs. Lion says, “Alexa, set a ten-minute timer.”
The device responds obediently, “Ten-minute timer starting now.”
The gentle swats get harder. They sting, but I still like them. She pauses and gets a different implement. The first swat makes me cry out in pain. A second follows on my other cheek. Why did I say I wanted to be spanked? This is no fun at all. The beating continues, a few not-so-bad swats followed by one or two that make me scream. When will the ten minutes be up?
She continues without pause for a while. Then she stops. She is getting a different paddle. The first swat makes me want to levitate. I scream. She ignores my cry. My world is all pain. I tell her to stop. She doesn’t. I wonder if the neighbors can hear me. I yelp at every swat. When will that timer go off?’
After what feels like hours, I hear the welcome beeping of the timer. Mrs. Lion says, “Alexa, stop.” The beeps stop, but her paddle keeps hurting my bottom. She’s not done. Hope drains away like rainwater down a sewer. I know my bottom is bleeding. She doesn’t care. All I can do is scream and endure. The strap around my waist is a bit looser and and I wriggle. It doesn’t help. There is no hope. Why did I want this? I must be crazy.
Finally, she stops. “You’re done,” she says, putting down her paddle. She doesn’t loosen the strap around my waist. Instead, she gets a wet washcloth and gently wipes the blood off my bottom. Then she removes the strap and I get up and lie down in bed.
It doesn’t hurt while I’m lying on my back, but the pain returns when I sit. My throat hurts from the screams and yelps. The skin on my bottom feels like leather. I feel that pleasant twinge again. OK, I have to admit it. I love being spanked.
Busy, Busy, Busy
I know I haven’t posted in a while. Aside from working, unpacking, and caring for things around here, I’ve been slacking. There’s been no spanking, no orgasms (I offered one the other night, but we didn’t get any further than that), no real snuggling, etc. Overtime is mandatory at work again this week. And I also haven’t felt well for the past few days. Yup. Slacking.
Tomorrow, we have tickets to see “The Fantastiks” in a town near the old house. Of course, when I got the tickets, we had no idea we’d be moving, much less to where. Lion likes the show, and it’s in a small theater I thought would be fairly easy to navigate. It will be his first outing in a long time. The last one was a doctor’s appointment. I hope this one will be more enjoyable.
We haven’t ventured out to explore our new area yet. I’ve been trying to concentrate on unpacking. We have a lot of stuff.
A lot.
I have the kitchen mostly functional. I dug out the kitchen table and we ate at it. Once. The rest of the meals are in the bedroom. I’d think it would be easier for Lion to eat at the table, but he’s set in his ways.
I know Lion is looking for a spanking. It’s been ages. Unfortunately, there are other things demanding attention first. Maybe I can carve out ten minutes this weekend in between boxes. The spanking bench is already at the foot of the bed. I need to grab his hairbrush, and we’ll be all set.
Mrs. Lion’s Birthday
Mrs. Lion has unpacked almost all of the kitchen. We now have a table and chairs set for meals. The pots and pans are hanging over the counter, and our dishes are unpacked. She’s getting used to her “atomic” (induction) range. It’s incredibly fast heating pots. It’s also Mrs. Lion’s birthday and we will have some Carvel ice cream cake to celebrate.
All of our BDSM and sexual activity is on hold. If I’m up for it, Mrs. Lion said I can have an orgasm. Yes, please.
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Moving is exhausting. We’ll have to work hard to restore our normal rules and punishments. The spanking bench is covered with stuff pulled from cartons but not put away. The massage table and waxing stuff are scattered or still packed. I’m just learning to find my way around our house. Before we can return to fun and games, there is a lot to do. It’s been almost two months since Mrs. Lion spanked me.
I hope we can find our way out of this mess soon.
Happy birthday, Mrs. Lion!