After one of the most stressful summers on record, closely followed by an autumn that shows all signs of toppling that record, I paused amongst the ironing when I heard an anguished shriek come from the barn last night, where Dan had ventured to retrieve a bottle of wine. I'll not repeat what he said, but suffice to say it is not very printable.
He had switched the lights on and they didn't work.
He soon found out that nothing electrical worked.
That included our large upright freezer.
No lights twinkled on the control panel, and he discovered that the 'trip-switch' had tripped, thus shutting off the power supply.
When he'd switched it back on he waded through the 'flood' waters and opened the door to be met by a vile waterfall of horrid smelly liquid. He swore a bit more and I had the vapours on the spot.
Had this happened next week, we would have been away on holiday. So I suppose there are small mercies.
Back in the house I had a 'falling apart' session, which I haven't had for a good while. I used the opportunity to say rather more than I had at first intended, such as remarking about Dan's snoring, picking on his driving, and snarling about his non-existent cooking ability which always leaves me with all the meal preparation, and as much as I enjoy to cook, I informed him that he could always join me for a glass of wine on occasion.
Dan was very good. He said very little and tried to be soothing. I was not in a mood to be soothed. I continued to snarl all evening.
For me, the loss of the entire contents of our freezer was the final straw on the camel's back.
So fast forward to the morning. After a night of tossing and turning and some very weird dreams,
I was snuggled right down in blissful comfort for the first time in over two weeks.
My bliss was not to last.
This was like a rerun of a previous occurrence from over a year ago. Senses on full alert, I kept my eyes firmly shut and pretended to be asleep.
"I know you are awake, Ami."
I kept extremely quiet.
Suddenly the covers were rudely pulled off and my bottom was swatted very sharply. I yelped and sat up rapidly, giving Dan the evil eye.
"Drink your coffee. I've decided it's time there was some maintenance around here."
Fighting with Dan to try to cover myself with the duvet, I reached for my mug. I wonder why, when I have slept in the nude for years, I should feel so very vulnerable when he does this? I got the duvet no higher than my waist, and grimaced over the top of the mug. Things were going to get messy.
The bedroom was already messy.
Yet again, knickers were everywhere, and a bra even hung from a plant pot.
Maybe this is why he usually sends me to fetch an implement?
I had hardly finished with my coffee when the duvet was once again unceremoniously tugged away and I was ordered over his lap. And not skin to skin this time either - he placed a pillow over his lap.
He then sat brandishing the much feared 'big nipper' as I draped myself over the pillows, and recounting for what seemed to be the hundredth time what the man's face looked like on the stall of the market in St Lucia where it was purchased.
"He knew what this little beauty was going to be used for, make no mistake about it."
I sighed in resignation, wondering whether this was about to be like the scene in Outlander.
I have a horrible, traitorous body. I hate and loathe being spanked hard with nasty implements like the nippers (big or small). Dan makes every swat feel like fire. He uses the skin stretching technique and no surface is left ignored. He uses rapid fire on the same spot over and over again, and just so you know, he has recently discovered the power of spanking on the 'sit spots'. He just loves the way it makes me arch my back and kick.
But why is my body so traitorous? It just does not seem to agree with my brain. My brain says to run, fight, get away.
My body says otherwise. While I cry and shriek and promise to never insult Dan every again, it sends orgasmic messages down my nerve endings and when he slows down, or pauses in spanking me, all I want to do is hump his knee. (I know, I did try to think of a more ladylike way of putting it, but couldn't.)
By the end of a spanking of this calibre, I am not only crying my eyes out, but I am also on the verge of a mammoth orgasm, both brain and body in total disarray.
The longer we go on with TTWD, the more intense this gets.
Dan, of course, bless his little cotton socks, knows this fact by now, and when the whole point of the spanking has been to get a message across, he will not allow me any relief. I only realised this a few months ago. It seems to be a part of the 'dominant' thing. Thus, it has the effect of making me feel like a live wire all day, and all he does is grin.
This spanking, when it came, was most definitely like the scene from Outlander. Except that I was held firmly down from the start.
We lay and talked for a while midway, then Dan started up again, determined to spank the snarkiness out of me. He seemed to be reciting a list of things I had said, and awarding swats accordingly.
But a funny thing; you can almost feel the moment when you relax and the world readjusts itself around you.
Finally Dan decided I had had enough and I was allowed up. My bottom was on fire and bright red
(not like this - like this!)
with tiny imprints from those horrible holes on the paddle.
It took most of the day to return to its usual pale self, and even then I felt it when sitting. It was certainly a 'cushion day'.
"If you swatted me more regularly, immediately I overstepped the mark, I am sure it would be better than these epic spankings."
"But then I wouldn't get half the enjoyment out of spanking you. I look forward to these little sessions of ours."
"Humph. Well, thank you, Dan!"
We are going to be away for a week. We are going to Madeira with friends to help them celebrate their Ruby Wedding.
It's a great little island and we have been there before, but the weather forecast isn't good this time. Still, I am sure we will have a wonderful time and the break is just what we both need right now.
Be good, my friends.