I am a bit late bringing you up to date.
The Maintenance Spanking of last Wednesday had quite an edge to it. I got home in good time and prepared the evening meal, because the financial world problems have reduced our eating out, which used to be customary on a Wednesday night. I went upstairs to shower and change. As I was removing the punishment instruments, from the locked wooden chest, my mobile rang. I had the rather surreal experience of standing naked with my phone to my ear, listening to a female customer telling me about her service complaint whilst I was holding a cane, a riding crop and a paddle in my left hand. This would have looked interesting on a video phone I am sure. As I apologized profusely for my company’s error, I felt like telling her that if she wished she could come round to my home and whip my ass if it would give her any satisfaction. Standing on the landing at the top of the stairs I heard my wife’s car pull in. I had a serious dilemma – either hurriedly tell my customer I had to ring off or face the wrath of my wife for not having everything prepared. I compromised and told the customer that it was a bad line and that I would call her straight back. This mobile telephoning has caused me too many problems recently – oh, for the days of land lines.
With not much time to spare I pulled on my shorts and T shirt and placed myself in the corner of our bedroom to wait. I heard the noise of my wife moving around downstairs and the waiting went on and on. At long last she came into the room and went straight into the session. Usually she changes out of her day clothes or even takes a shower.
She instructed me to turn around and pull my shorts down and get over the chair.
“God I am so angry.” she said, as I scuttled into position. “A simple task and was it done?”
I had no idea what she was talking about. I couldn’t remember her asking me to do anything specific that day.
“Lucky for me I can take out my bad day on your bottom. That jerk Andrew just annoyed the hell out of me at work.”
I breathed more easily. It wasn’t me she was mad at.
“Right then, thirty with the crop I think.” She spoke in a business like fashion.
”Then forty with the paddle and I’ll finish off with the cane. Get over the bench.”
As I started to bend over I heard her say,
“No, I’ve changed my mind, let’s do it differently today. Get your hands against the wall and push your bottom out”
I stood up and crossed the room again. Once I was spread-eagled against the wall she inserted her fingers into the waistband of my shorts and lowered them slowly.
“You like that don’t you?” she asked trailing her fingers against my bare skin as I shivered with excitement.
“Well we will just have to spank you hard. We can’t have you enjoying yourself when I want to deal with you.”
In silence she whipped me hard with the crop, slapping the tab against my right cheek and landing the stick part against my left. Then she changed sides and gave me the same treatment on the other cheeks.
“And a few here I think. Make you skip a bit.”
She moved directly behind me and swung the tab up between my legs and onto my balls. You might have described them as mere flicks, but that leather tab had me stretching up onto my toes and squealing silently.
The crop was thrown onto the floor and she went for the paddle. Slowly and in complete silence, other than my hard breathing, she paddled me hard, aiming at every part of my bottom until she had taken her stress out on my rear end. I had brought out the round headed paddle, with the hole dead centre, and she can easily control where it lands, to give a hard, all over whacking.
The paddle joined the crop on the floor and just then my mobile rang. I had left it on the dressing table when I had been in a rush.
“Do you want to get that?”
“I thought not. I’ll just take a look shall I? Good job you are not driving right now isn’t it?”
“I wouldn’t answer it if I was ma’am.” I replied, recalling the other day.
I heard my wife say hello and then
“I am sorry he’s tied up at the moment. Can he get back to you.”
There was silence followed by
“Well yes, I m sorry he has not rung you back Miss Roberts, I will make sure he does. Goodbye and thank you for calling”
“Sounds like you have an unhappy customer there, that’s two women who you are in trouble with.”
“So maybe a few extra strokes of the cane for her benefit wouldn’t go amiss?”
“No ma’am, thank you ma’am”
My wife positioned herself at a distance from me and told me to push my bottom out further and get up on my toes. She likes my skin to be stretched tight for the cane.
With easy swings she laid on with the long thin cane. There had been no mention of how many strokes. She struck me once at the top of my cheeks and then again just below where my bottom meets my legs. In slow strokes with a lengthy pause between each she proceeded to fill in the gap across my bottom, a bit like painting with numbers , but here the only colour was red. When she was satisfied that she had me in pain with my grunts and groans and deep intakes of breath the caning stopped.
“Now bend over and touch your toes and I will give you six of the best for not dealing with your customer properly.”
I moved away from the wall and stretched into position. The cane came quickly and harshly and I kept rocking forward on the balls of my feet. When the six strokes had been delivered and the cane was thrown to the floor I stayed bent over, because I am not allowed to move until told to do so.
Squatting down so that she could pass the mobile phone in front of my face she told me to stay bent over and make the call to Miss Roberts.
“And when you’ve done that you can tidy up and get downstairs. Stay in your pants though. I may want to use the wooden spoon on you later.”
That customer call has to rank as one of the strangest I have made but I appeased Ms Roberts and the rest of the evening went well. My wife was in a great mood when she came downstairs and patted my bottom quite a few times as I moved around the kitchen.
“One sore bottom and two satisfied women. Not bad for an evenings work.” she said.
I had to agree with her.