The Three Ps - Part 2

So yes, dear friends, I knew what I had to do.  It's just that when it comes down to it, it is a very difficult thing to ask.

In truth, it was about half past two in the afternoon before I summoned the nerve to ask Dan to spank me.  You'd be surprised at how many little jobs I kept finding to do, as well as making a huge Shoo Fly Pie and a Lemon Cheesecake with an Oreo crust.  (My grandmother always told me the way to a man's heart was through his stomach.  I wouldn't want to let her down!)

He'd gone outside to mow the lawns and strim round the edge of the horse pond.  I sidled out of the back door and lurked.  I inched up to him.

I said "I want to ask you a question, Daniel.  I need you to do something for me."

Poor Dan.  He was, at the time, lying flat on his stomach with his arm down the overflow pipe, which is about two feet away from the edge of the pond, and which was wedged solid with duckweed.  

Inching did no good, I tripped over the hose which he had been using to flush out the pipe, and nearly ended up in the wretched horse pond!

No, ours doesn't look like this.  More like this, only choked with weed!

"Well hurry up and ask, I need to get on with unblocking this pipe" he growled without looking up.  

I finished teetering on the edge and stood next to him bending low enough to mutter in his ear.

"What the hell are you doing?" He stopped wrestling with the pipe and pushed himself up to his knees.  I jerked backwards and nearly went in the pond yet again.

"Oh for goodness sake, Dan, can't you just turn to look at me. I wanted to ask you something and you never make these things easy, do you."

"Well maybe I'd make it easy if you'd get on and tell me what it was."  I now had his full attention.  "I thought you were set on sampling the joys of the pond life here for a moment." 

I could see that this discussion was going to be even more difficult than I had anticipated.  But I was determined.

"I'm feeling very jumpy and unsettled" I told him.  "There is no one around.  The next door neighbours are away for the weekend.  Number One Son is over at his cottage building a wood shed."  (Truly!!!)

I looked at him imploringly.  The conversation was flowing about the same as cold treacle off a spoon.

"Daniel, do you think you could spare the time to spank me?"

It was out.  I had said it.

"But I only spanked you two days ago, woman" he replied.  "I don't want you to think this is going to get too regular.  It'll be every day next!"

I sniffed.  "Two spankings in a week is hardly regular" I informed him. "I just feel I need it badly.  I can't concentrate, my head is spinning, and I feel like I am getting out of control."

"You've only got your colleagues and their partners coming. What's difficult about that?  You've catered for much greater numbers than that before."

I love my husband, I truly do, but I could see he was going off on a tangent.

"Daniel!  I am going upstairs!  I should be so grateful if you would follow me up there in a bit."

Dan was still on his knees on the lawn, his right arm dripping duckweed and pond water, looking a bit blank.

"Prevention is better than cure" I told him as I turned to go back inside.

"Well I haven't got time for anything else."  He looked a bit shell-shocked, but he hadn't said 'no'.  

He started to get up off his knees, swiping duck weed off his jeans.  I hoped he would wash his hands first.

I'd done it!  I'd asked for a spanking!  Help!  What did one do under such circumstances?

I tell you what I did.  I galloped through the kitchen, across the living room and up the stairs like I had hounds on my heels.

Naturally, once I got into the bedroom, heart beating ninety to the dozen, I didn't know what to do next!  I stood for a minute in a bit of a dreamlike state.  Then I decided I'd go and brush my teeth.  This had all caused my brain to have hiccups.  

I thought I'd have lots of time to prepare myself.  I removed my jeans and knickers, and putting toothpaste on my brush was humming tunelessly to myself when Dan appeared behind me in the bathroom.  I jumped and toothpaste spattered all over the mirror.

"What are you brushing your teeth for?  I'm not spanking your teeth." Dan looked very perplexed.  "Come on, I haven't got all day."

I rinsed my mouth and followed him back into the bedroom and looked at him hopefully, expecting inspiration.

Dan let out a huge sigh.  He hates having to leave a job, like clearing duckweed, half way through.  

"Lean over the footboard then" he instructed me  "while I get the implement."

I got the quilt and doubling it, laid it across the wooden end of the bed and leant over, placing my head on my hands. The footboard is quite high and it means my toes can barely touch the floor, so I need the quilt to relieve the pressure of the wood on my stomach.  

I felt him come up behind me and lift my blouse a little.

He started by rubbing my cheeks and then went on to give me a few swats with his hand.  These gradually increased in intensity, until they were coming quite hard and fast.  I was just about coping but was beginning to wonder about the perspicacity of  my request, and whether I would be able to cope with whichever implement he had chosen.

It was the Rose Paddle.  This little darling should be my most favourite, but not on this occasion.  On this occasion I started to crawl forwards after the first couple of swats.  I was pulled back.  Four more, and I was on my way again.  Again I was pulled back.  Another couple, and I started to crawl forwards again when an extra hard spank landed right across my tenderest parts.  I lurched forwards like a starter off a grid yelling "F---!" at the top of my voice and craning my head around to glare at him accusingly, eyes filling with water.

"If you had stayed in position, like you're meant to, I wouldn't have missed my aim."

"You're meant to flick your wrist!  Not whack like it's going out of style!"

"Believe me, you'd know if I was whacking, Ami.  I'm hardly using any strength at all.  Just stay still.  And put your hands back in front."

I was rubbing for all I was worth.  (No, actually I was dabbing very carefully to try to lessen the awful sting.)

Dan placed his hand on my lower back and held me down before continuing.  

I tried to count quietly to myself because Dan's spankings are short and I wanted to try to get some idea of how many spanks he gave me.  I managed to reach around thirty and then it was just impossible.  I was kicking my legs and rolling my hips.  

Dan continued for another ten or so spanks right on my sit-spots (Yes, he has sadly discovered these. I wondered when he would.)  Then he went back to his hand for a grand finale. I was right the first time.  He must definitely have had a secret hand transplant!  I can vouch for the fact that his hand hurts very nearly as much as the paddle.  Or maybe it is that by then my butt was so sore that even a feather would have hurt.

He helped me stand up.  I felt a bit as if I had been through a car wash!  My hair was like a haystack and my face and hands were wet through.  I heard rather than saw him return the paddle to the drawer where it's kept, and then he said "Right then, I'll leave you to straighten up.  I've got to get back to that pond.  Then I've got to go and fetch some extra chairs from my mother's."  And he was gone.

My bottom felt very hot and it stung.  I walked stiffly over to the mirror and examined it, expecting it to be a frightening sight.  But it wasn't.  So okay, the paddle had made a few large circular marks on my butt cheeks, but the marks that got my attention most weren't made by the paddle.  They were made by Daniel's hand!  Huge, red hand-shaped marks, with every finger visible.  Yet no sign of any bruising, and the bruising from the previous spanking had all but vanished anyway.

Handprints!  Hmmm.  I studied them from every direction. That's a first, I thought.  I rubbed some arnica on both cheeks, but they were not so sore that I couldn't rub them.  

However, I did put on a pair of very soft cotton knickers and was quite careful when pulling up my jeans.  My bottom seemed on fire, if only temporarily.  As I crossed the living room to the kitchen I reached back and felt it through my jeans.  Crikey, it was red hot!  I felt a bit stunned.  I went outside.

"Just feel this" I said to Dan.  "You could fry eggs on this."

"But would you want to?"  He replied nonchalantly, his hand down the outlet once again.

I turned and went back into the kitchen and put on the kettle for some tea. I did feel better. The spanking had been very intense, but it had been over remarkably quickly.  Possibly a minute and a half in all.  Daniel never wastes time nor effort. He's always been a quality over quantity type of man, and I can ascertain that a great many spanks may be had in a minute and a half!    

The garden party was a great success.

  

I had no culinary disasters.  The Pimms flowed.  The Peroni beer had mysteriously doubled in quantity.  There was enough food to feed a third world country.  We laughed and chatted and celebrated, and all the ladies who came wore long dresses and straw hats, and most of the men wore Panamas or boaters.  They know how much I love hats, and had decided to surprise me!

So later on in the evening when we were alone once more, sprawled on a bench watching the fish in the now clear horse pond, I asked Dan a further question.

"Do you think it worked?"

He knew what I meant, and he paused to consider for a minute.

"To tell you the truth it's uncanny how well it worked.  You were so calm I nearly took your temperature.  I don't think I can recall an occasion when you haven't shouted, yelled and stamped your way through the hours leading up to a party. Yet this time you were so relaxed you were still standing in front of your wardrobe wondering what to wear when the first people arrived weren't you?"

"Yes I was.  I just didn't feel inclined to hurry.  I felt calm.  It was the strangest thing.  I'm pretty knackered now though. Don't expect me to do anything at all for the next twenty four hours."

Dan laughed tiredly.  "I'm going to watch Top Gear.  I need to put my feet up."

I watched him wend his way back to the house.  I sat and thought about things.  This weekend I learnt a great deal. 

"Feeling the burn" has taken on an entirely new meaning. Hands can hurt as much as paddles.  Being spanked for stress is amazing when used to prevent you from becoming a headless chicken. A short, sharp, shock treatment can be extremely efficacious!

If I know Dan as I think I know him, he has now stored these facts in his head for future reference.  

And finally, reluctantly, this may be a course of action I will have to employ again, or, and you never know with Dan, he may render my request unnecessary, as he did mention that the kitchen table would probably be the ideal "venue" to sort out this type of stress in the future.

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And for those of you who asked me what Billy Witches are, some people call them Maybugs.

       
This one has its wings outspread and the twin parts of its hard carapace lifted.  They are "beetles" that can fly.  

There are lots of them in our part of the country because they are attracted by the growing crops and the harvest.  They neither sting or bite, but buzz around and dive-bomb you particularly in the evenings.  The biggest are around the size of a man's thumb, but more often they are a bit smaller.  

And the best bit?  

Their real name is Cockchafer!  Thought you might like to know that little gem!  

And there are three types - Common Cockchafer, Forest Cockchafer and Large Cockchafer!  Truly! 

(Latin names are Melolontha melolontha, Melolontha hippocastani and Melolothan pectoralis!) (I looked those up!)