It's in the air!

As you can tell from the two recent stories, I obviously need a spanking and haven't gotten one! Damn! I'll have to work on that one. And it's everywhere I turn! The TV is on, and there was a western on a few minutes ago. My ears perked up when I heard one of the characters complaining that someone had spanked her. Missed what happened before that. Then I turn on the Lucy Show. And there is Lucy, telling Ricky, "Yes, I've been a bad girl! You can spank me later - if there's anything left to spank!" Maybe the powers that be are telling me it's time to get off my ass and offer it up to hubby for a good warming! LOL! By the way - the story about the nagging about the driving is mostly true to life and one of my big fantasies. I do nag about the driving, and every time he gives me one of those exasperated looks, I can't help thinking, "Why don't you just pull this car off the road and paddle my butt?" *sigh*  We never fight, so he says I don't give him any reason to punish me. Oh please. I've said it before and I'll say it again - either I married a saint or Helen Keller. The other story is also true to life. I've told him before - sometimes when I'm cranky, I just need someone to 'spank the crank' outta me! Any time I see him getting aggravated, I keep hoping he'll just bend me over right there in the kitchen and grab a wooden spoon! But alas - it never happens. If anything, he'll just come to me later and apologize for snapping at me! (Should have snapped that wooden spoon at me, buster!) I know, I know - I should be grateful for such a wonderful guy! And I am! Just wish he'd be a little more - forceful, shall we say? I'm not good at self-discipline. I know there are things I should do, but sometimes a girl needs a little motivation, you know? If I don't do something that he has asked me to do, I just get that 'look'. Maybe a little bit of a lecture. If I were him, and I hadn't done something after being asked two or three times, I'd put me in a corner, and then I'd spank my butt until I promised to get it done! And then if it still didn't get done, spank again! I know he wants to - I can tell. Maybe I need to write him a permission slip. "To Whom It May Concern: This is to certify that _________________ has full authority and rights to spank ______________________ whenever she does not do as asked or told, or when she is obviously out of sorts and getting snappy, cranky, or bratty. Punishments should be immediate, if appropriate. If not, fair warning should be given and then carried out as soon as possible." OMG - I think if he ever growled in my ear, "You are being very naughty. As soon as we get home, you are going straight to your corner for a while, and then you're going over my knee for a good spanking, young lady!", I would faint dead away on the spot! (I'm getting light-headed just thinking about it. Is it getting warm in here?) Sometimes, I'll leave things go that I know I should do, hoping that he'll fuss at me for it. Nope. Doesn't work that way. If I don't clean up the kitchen, he'll just go do it. If I don't make the bed, he doesn't complain. In fact, when I DO do some things, he thanks me! No no no no no! Don't thank me for doing the things I should do! Wait - I take that back. It's ok to thank me when I do. Makes one feel appreciated. But by the same token, makes me feel unneeded if he just goes ahead and does them if I don't. I guess it just comes down to the fact that I feel unnecessary if I have no rules and no expectations of me. Nothing to live up to, you know? Then I get lazy and then I feel guilty. That's when I wish he would 'take me in hand', so to speak, and put things back on track. But he doesn't, and I figure it isn't important and get lazy again, and the whole thing just goes in circles, and ................ crap. But hey - I am nothing if not hopeful! So enough of this rant, and thank you for listening (if anyone still is). It will work out one day! (LOL! And I just figured out why I'm in this mood. Tomorrow is our 10th anniversary!)

Driving It Home......

Leigh was a typical Virgo. Some of those traits - meticulous, reliable, practical - could come in handy in a lot of situations. For those, her husband Mark was grateful. But some - fussiness, perfectionism, a tendency to worry - could be downright annoying! The one that was driving him crazy lately was her control-freak side. It mainly manifested itself in the car.

She had told him from the beginning that she was a lousy passenger in the car. She preferred to drive, and was always nervous when anyone else did. If it was just him and her in the car, there was a lot of hand fluttering, reaching out and putting a hand on the dashboard as if to brace herself for an impending crash, grabbing hold of the armrest until her knuckles turned white, etc. When she got really ramped up, audible gasps could be heard, and she would keep him apprised of the traffic situation. "Honey, stop sign." "You're a bit close to the curb, dear!" "Slow down, there are brake lights up ahead!" They would usually be followed by an apologetic smile and a flippant, "Sorry - you know I'm a lousy passenger!"

When they were in someone else's car, he could tell she was fighting very hard to hold her tongue. Instead, she would just reach across the seat and grab his hand in a death grip. He could always tell what her level of fright was by how hard she squeezed. Occasionally, a squeal would escape her mouth and she would find some way to cover it - a cough, clearing her throat, a laugh, etc. 

Over the years, Mark had learned to deal with it. At first, he tried to accommodate her fears. He would slow down when she pointed out the brake lights ahead, move over when she complained how close he was to the curb - whatever it took to calm her nerves. But over time, the indulgent smiles became scowls as he would glance at her over the top of his glasses, and a few times, when her hand flew up to brace on the dashboard, he reached over and slapped her hand so she jerked it back into her lap. It had worked to a certain extent, but if he didn't keep chastising her each time, she would build right back up to her original level of freak-out in no time.

It all came to a head one sunny day in July. They were heading home after a long and enjoyable day of checking out yard sales. Only a few miles from home, Leigh suddenly gasped loudly and practically shouted, "Mark! Please slow down - people are stopping ahead!": 'Ahead' was actually a good half mile in front of them. Mark's first instinct was to jerk his foot off the gas pedal. But he had had enough. Setting his lips in a grim line, he suddenly changed course. He slowed down as Leigh had demanded, but then moved the car into the right lane and turned down a country road. Leigh looked confused. This wasn't the way home! "Where are we going?" she asked. "You'll see," was Mark's terse reply. 

About half a mile down the road was a little-used rest area. Since the main highway had gone in years ago, this park area was no longer on the main route and was now just a well-hidden pull-off area. Mark had found it one day while out riding his motorcycle. Now he pulled the car into it, driving back in until they were behind a stand of trees and out of sight or sound of anyone driving by. Leigh looked at him questioningly, but he refused to speak to her as he threw the car into park. Getting out, he strode around to her side of the car and yanked the door open.

Leigh gave a squeal as he reached in, undid her seat belt, and then unceremoniously jerked her out of her seat by her arm. Her eyes were wide - he had never done this before and boy, he looked mad! She tried to pull away. "Ow! What are you doing? Mark! Why are we stopped here? What's going on?" Mark ignored her questions. Still holding her arm, he leaned back into the car, popped open the glove compartment, retrieved a small Lexan paddle, and stuck it in his back pocket. Leigh's mouth dropped open, and she began to struggle some more. But Mark kept a firm grip as he stood back up and then dragged Leigh around to the hood of the car.

He began to lecture her as he unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans. She was backed up to the bumper and pinned there, so could only swat at his hands as she tried to stop him. But he was stronger than her and her attempts at resistance were useless. "Young lady,": he barked. The button came open. "I have had it with your constant nagging about my driving." Down came the zipper. "I have never had an accident of any kind, or ever put you in any kind of danger, so there is no justification for your behavior!" Her jeans and panties were suddenly down to her knees. "Until such time as I give you a reason to bitch about my driving, you will stop!" Before she knew what was happening, Leigh found herself spun around and bent down over the hood of the car, her bare bottom feeling the warm summer breeze.

A moment later, she felt a different kind of warmth. Mark had her pinned down with one hand, and with the other, was rapidly applying the paddle to her upturned behind. The loud *crack* of the paddle filled the air and was soon joined by Leigh's yelps and cries as she struggled to get away. But Mark had her held firmly in place and continued to swat her bottom. She squealed, she twisted, she stomped her feet, but her husband was showing no signs of slowing down. He applied stroke after stroke to her bouncing butt, turning it first pink, then red, then crimson. Leigh no longer realized or cared that they were outdoors and her wails and howls rose into the trees. Mark continued to spank her long after she had gone limp and collapsed over the car hood.   

When he was finished, he stuffed the paddle back into his pocket and pulled her back upright. Still sobbing, she turned slowly to face him. She raised her head, starting to give him an apology and expecting a warm embrace and forgiveness. But she was stunned into silence by the glare on his face. Uh-oh - he was still mad!  "We are not through, little girl!" he barked. Her shoulders slumped as she reached to pull up her pants. But Mark slapped her hands away. Taking her by the arm, he marched her back to the open passenger door. "Get in," he ordered. Leigh clumsily lowered herself back into her seat, cringing as her sore, still-bare bottom hit the rough upholstery of the car seat. Mark slammed her door and stalked back over to the driver's side.

He got in and started the car. "Put on your seat belt," he growled. Leigh slowly did as she was told, and Mark pulled the car out of the secluded area and back onto the road.

Luckily (or unluckily?), they were only a short distance from home. Leigh pulled her shirt down as far as she could, covering her bare lap so if anyone did look into the car, they would have no idea that she was sitting there on a freshly-spanked bare behind. Arriving home, Mark pulled the car into the attached garage and closed the garage door. He looked over at Leigh. "Inside, young lady. And into your corner! Now!" She gave a small sob, unhooked her seat belt, opened the door, and scurried out of the car and into the house as fast as she could with her pants twisted around her knees. By the time Mark entered the house a few minutes later, she was in the appointed corner, her nose to the wall and her hands on her head. Her husband came to stand behind her, and she tensed as she felt his hot breath on her neck. "Stay there until I tell you to come out," he ordered, giving her one more hard slap to her behind before walking away. Leigh groaned and leaned into the wall, resigning herself to the situation.

Time drags when you are standing in the corner. Leigh felt like she had been there for hours. But it was only about fifteen minutes when her husband's quiet voice told her to turn around. She was glad that he sounded calm again, and she turned to face him. But her eyes grew wide as she saw him standing there, the bath brush in his hand. She looked at him pleadingly, her hands twisting together in front of her. It didn't help. "Leigh, we have been married for 10 years. Have I ever given you any reason to nag me about my driving?" he asked. She hung her head. "No sir," she whispered. "I didn't think so," he replied. He was still in lecture mode, but at least he wasn't so angry with her anymore. He pointed with the bath brush to the ottoman by his chair. He had placed a couple of throw pillows on top of it. "Come here please," he instructed. Leigh hesitantly put one foot in front of the other until she was standing next to him. Mark then took her by the waist and guided her down over the pillows until she was draped there, her head and hands on the floor on one side of the stool, her feet on the other, and her bottom propped high in the air.

She jumped as Mark patted her bottom with the brush. "As I said, we have been married 10 years. So I think we'll finish this with 10 swats. I want you to count each one, followed by 'I will not nag my husband about his driving any more'. Is that understood?" Leigh took a deep breath. "Yes sir," she choked out.

The first swat took her by surprise. It always did. "Ow!" she yelped. "One! I will not nag my husband about his driving any more!" *crack* "Two! I will not nag my husband about his driving any more!" *smack* "Ow ow ow! Three! I will not nag my husband about his driving any more!" *whack* "Yeouch! *sniff* Four! I will not nag my husband about his driving any more!" *swat* "Aaaahhhhh! I'm sorry! Five! I will not nag my husband about his driving any more!" *crack* "Owowowowowow I'm sorry I'm sorry! Six I will not nag my husband about his driving any more!" The tears began to flow. Leigh's hands beat at the carpet and her toes drummed on the floor. *whack* "Owwwwwww please! Seven! I'm sorry I was bad! I will not nag my husband about his driving any more! I promise!" *smack* "*howl* Eight! I will not nag my husband about his driving any more!" *whap* "Yeow! Niiiiiiiiiiiine! I'll be good I will not nag my husband about his driving any more!" Mark aimed carefully for the last one to drive his point home. *CRACK* "AAAHHHHH! TEN! I'm sorry! I will not nag my husband about his driving any more! I promise!" Leigh's hands flew back and clutched frantically at her flaming bottom. She slid off the stool onto her knees, rocking back and forth as she sobbed and rubbed, trying to get the sting out of her backside. Mark stood quietly, giving her time to calm down.

When she had stopped sobbing, he helped her to his feet. He wrapped his arms around her and she buried her face in his chest. Her voice was muffled as she blubbered her apologies into his shirt. "I'm sorry. I really was horrid and I won't do it again! I promise!" Mark rubbed her back soothingly. "Shhh, it's all right now." He pulled back and tipped her chin up so she had to look him in the eyes. She was relieved to see the grin on his face. "I'll settle for your promise that you'll TRY not to do it again," he scolded good-naturedly. "Wouldn't want you to make promises that we both know you'll never be able to keep!"