Saturday went by in a flash. When I had cleared away the breakfast things and run my wife to the shops by car and was back in the house, my first task was to handwash her silky knickers.
I did not know if they would survive the machine drier so I put them on the line outside. They looked a bit incongruous hanging there by themselves so I did a wash of the bed linen and then the weeks clothing. After an hour or so I had plenty of other things to hang out with the knickers.
It was one of those glorious September days, blue sky and sun and with a hot bottom from the morning caning. I was glad to be alive and in such a rewarding marriage.
I went to the shed and pulled out the sack of bulbs and the trowel and set about the planting. There were more than a hundred bulbs to plant in and after a while I became fed up with the whole digging business.
I took a break and wrote up the blog and thought about wanking but remembered that I was still not released to do so. Reluctantly I went back outside to the bulb planting.
Eventually they were all in the ground. I was running out of space towards the end and thought about tipping some of them in the bin but I knew I would probably get caught out., so I persevered.
I checked on the laundry on the line and the knickers were nearly dry. I figured that a gentle go with a hair dryer would do the trick so I took them upstairs. It worked OK and I placed the still warm knickers folded nicely in her drawer.
The cane was still lying on the bed where my wife had left it that morning. It was an ominous reminder that I still had fifty odd strokes still to come.
Downstairs I pulled in the rest of the laundry and used the machine to dry it off. Checking the clock I saw that I had an hour before I needed to pick my wife up.
I went back out to the garden and did some general weeding and tidying up of dead stuff. The whole scene looked pretty nice by the time I went to shower. I inspected my bottom in the mirror and could just pick out some line marks.
Going downstairs I got a text from her. - Meet me at XXXX on the second floor. I want your opinion on some clothes. Be quick-
I set off speedily. Too quickly as it turned out.
Once in the store I found my wife and passed a view on three dresses which she showed me. She went to the changing room and I sat outside. Once the decision had been made I was sent off to pay and caught up with my wife in the tights section, which was inevitable close to the lingerie.
She caught me eyeing up a rather pretty girl who was holding up various flimsy items trying to decide on what to buy.
“Keep your eyes on me if you don’t mind,” my wife said crossly.
Once we were home I followed her into the house.
“Let’s see what you got done in the garden.”
As she went to the back door I got a sickening feeling in my stomach. I realised my mistake.
“This door’s open. You left the house wide open.”
I started to explain but figuredit was hopeless. All my good deeds for the day were for nothing.
Muttering about how stupid I was she went into the garden and came back saying that everything looked good but she could not believe I had left the place open.
“I thought I was disciplining you so you would become more attentive. Now I find that you can’t remember even simple tasks.”
“I'm sorry Ma’am. It won’t happen again.”
“Just go upstairs and wait for me.”
When she came up she left me standing there and put away her purcheses. She opened the knicker drawer and retrieved the punishment book.
“I see you have done one thing right today,” she commented holding up the freshly washed knickers.
"Strip off and go and get me the paddle." I came back and handed it to her.
Pointing at the end of the bed she told me to get over.
“I was going to entertain you with the little whip this evening and let you come but you can forget about that now.”
“I am sorry m’am”
"You will be."
She cracked the paddle into my bottom with a hefty swipe. I yelped and she struck again.
“How many strokes?”
“So count them.”
She laid the on with the paddle in a vigorous fashion and I tried to keep up with the numbers as best I could but I inevitably lost track. When she stopped it might have been forty but more likely it was fifty plus.
“No stand up and touch your toes ten times."
I did the best I could but with a painful bottom and a back that was stiff from the gardening I was not successful. She said I should try again before bed and told me to go and make myself useful preparing dinner.
“And write up 30 strokes with the cane in the book for not thinking about locking doors. Sometimes I wonder why I married you.”
The evening passed off well after we had both had some wine and we watched a film.
I did better at trying touching my toes that night but she was not impressed. I offered to go down on her thinking that might lead to something but she declined.
I fell asleep thinking of what the next day might bring.