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?”
“Forty ma’am.”
“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.