Monday, October 17, 2016

The Book of ...

Have any of you ever been on or auditioned for a quiz show? It's quite a process and although I've know quite a few people who have auditioned, including Ray, until now I've never personally known one to be selected and actually on TV.  Well, now I do.  A dear friend's daughter made it through the whole process and will be on the Wheel of Fortune that is airing tonight in the US.  I can't wait.

It wasn’t possible that it was Saturday morning already.  In reality, I knew it was because everybody wished me a good weekend when I left work yesterday. Don’t get me wrong, I love weekends.  It’s always a chance to catch up with everything with a little time left over for fun. The thing is one of the things we (being my husband Garrett and me) always need to do is go over the list of the past week. 

The list is something that I agreed to when we were first dating and carried it through to our married lives.  We both expected certain things and so we made a list and agreed to a weekly check-in.  Rarely does Garrett, being an A-one stand up guy, not meet my expectations.  On the occasions that happens, I am gifted with a piece of art, or jewelry, or a spa day, something that is only for me to enjoy.  However, when I don’t meet the list expectations, he gets to spank me.

I know, I know.  It sounds archaic in this day and age, but it’s what I agreed to and I never really gave it much thought. Silly me,  but you know how it is when you’re in the first throes of love – you’d almost agreed to anything so as not to disappoint.   Anyways, we decided to set aside Saturday mornings for our weekly list review - it cleared the air and set the tone for a hassle-free weekend.  

Most of the time, it was no big deal.  We kept a notebook on the kitchen counter next to the coffeepot and everyday note down any indiscretions or disappointments. On Saturday morning, whoever woke first and started the coffee would bring the notebook to the bedroom, and we would go over the entries.  We’d discuss the entries and nine times out of ten, we would laugh at some of the things that seemed so important at the time.  It was a relief – Isometimes I'd get a good girl spanking, then we’d kiss, make love and start our weekend.

However, sometimes it was a big deal and this weekend was going to be one of them.  I’d seen his entries in the book and knew I was in for a humdinger of a spanking this week. For some reason, I was off the reservation, and everything I did was a no-no.  On Monday, I forgot to lock the door from the house to the garage door, on Tuesday, I left the curling iron plugged in, on Wednesday, I received a ticket for failing to make a complete stop at a Stop sign.  By Thursday, I didn’t think I could do any more damage.  My mistake, I left my cell phone on the kitchen counter when I left for work and on Friday, I figured ‘what the hell’ my goose was already cooked, and I had one too many glasses of wine with friends after work and then drove home.

I really think the only reason I escaped getting my butt blistered on Friday night was that when I came home, I lay down on the bed and that was that.  I must have passed out from exhaustion from all my naughty deeds.

Anyway, now it was Saturday and time to pay the piper. I rolled over and there next to me was the notebook and one staunch looking husband, sitting there ready and waiting.  Was that glee I saw on his face?  No.  I knew it wasn’t.  Sure he liked to take me over his knee, and hear me squeal my delight as his hand warmed my bottom, but this wasn’t going to be one of those kind of spankings.  Today was lesson time.

I sat up and said good morning.  Garrett remained stoic, saying only good morning and then picked up the book.

“Not necessary,” I told him.  “I know what’s written there.”

“I know you do.  All of these issues are major issues. “

“I know, I know.  I don’t know what came over me this week.”

“Whatever it was, I don’t want a repeat, and once I’m through with your chastisement, I hope you’ll realize just how serious I take your well-being.”  He pulled me across his lap and began warming my bottom.  His hand covered both cheeks and the tops of my thighs, each slap stingier than the one before.  I wasn’t squealing with delight this morning – more like squealing with pain.  Surely, he had to be almost finished. 

When his hand stopped striking my backside, he told me to stand up.  I was up in a flash and rubbing my behind when I saw him move to the end of the bed.  He piled up pillows, and it was then I saw him pull out his belt.  The belt I bought him for his last birthday – that beautifully crafted leather belt. What the hell was I thinking?  Obviously not that it would be used on my bare behind.

I thought about begging but realized it would do no good.  The best thing I could do was lay over those mounded pillows and take my punishment, even if it killed me.  Oh, I knew it wouldn’t, but I knew my ass would be stinging as if a thousand bees had done their job.. 

I lay down on the pillows and heard Garrett calling me a good girl. My heart leaped - who would have ever thought those two little words had that much power to move me but they did.  He positioned me as he wanted and then rubbed my back.  His hand meandered to my ass,  no doubt assessing the damage he had already inflicted there. It felt good, even when he trailed the leather belt across my butt cheeks and thighs, I could feel my dew increase at the sensation.  I relaxed, and that’s when the first lash of the belt struck home.  It struck across both cheeks, and the fire that had begun to subside from the hand spanking reignited.  I didn’t have to wait long for the second strike to land, either on or just below the first.  The third followed soon after.  I sensed him moving to the other side of the bed and knew that I probably only had to endure three more lashes before it would be over.  At least, I hoped that would be the case. 

Sure enough, Garrett brought the belt down three more times, and I heard it hit the floor. My ass was on fire, but I was wrong.  It wasn’t over yet.  He pulled me up and instead of bringing me up to sit on his lap as was his usual habit, I found myself over his knee again.  Once again, he positioned me where he wanted, making sure my head and upper body was supported on the bed and my bottom up high over his raised knee, the other leg holding mine in place.

Once again, that hand rained down hard spanks on my already punished bottom, one after another until I couldn’t feel them anymore.  My butt was numb, and it didn’t matter how much longer he spanked, I wouldn’t feel it until later.

Finally, it was over, and this time, when he brought me up on his lap, it was to soothe and caress my tears away.

I don’t know how much longer we sat there, me cradled on Garrett’s lap as he enveloped me in his love, but when we parted, I saw him close the notebook.

And so another week’s list was recorded and marked corrected, even if I wouldn’t be sitting comfortably anytime soon.

And so ends another Monday story on Aimless Ramblings.

Thursday, October 13, 2016

Truth Really Can Be Stranger Than Fiction

Leaving the store, I couldn't find my keys.  They weren't in my pocket or purse.  Suddenly I realized I must have left them in the car.  Frantically, I headed for the parking lot.  My husband had scolded me many times for leaving the keys in the ignition fearing the car could be stolen.  

The parking lot was empty.  I immediately called the police.  I gave them my location, confessed that I had probably left my keys in the car and that it had been stolen.  Then, I made the most difficult call of all to my husband.  

"I left my keys in the car and it's been stolen," I said.

There was a moment of silence. I thought the call had been disconnected, but then I heard his voice.

"Are you kidding me?" he barked.  "I dropped you off."

Now it was may turn to be silent.  Embarrassed, I said.  "Well, come and get me then."

He retorted.  "I will as soon as I can convince this cop that I didn't steal your damn car."

Okay, the above is a joke, but I can totally understand how this could happen.  I will now tell you a true story  Years ago; I returned to work after lunch.  Several times during the afternoon, people reported a car was running in the parking lot, and there didn't seem to be anyone around.  The story was always dismissed.  Do you see where this is going?  Sure as God made little green apples, I returned to the parking lot after work, and sure enough, there sat my car, engine running away. The only good part was that the car was locked.  Luckily there was a hidden key beneath the fender, so I didn't have to call Ray to come and get me.   Needless to say, it was years before I shared this story with Ray.  

See you later for more Aimless Ramblings.

Monday, October 10, 2016

The Storm Got Me Spanked

Let me start off by saying Happy Thanksgiving to all my Canadian friends.  Enjoy the day.

Hurricane Matthew has been in the forefront of the news this weekend along with our deplorable Republican candidate for the President of the United States. I feel so bad for those who have borne the brunt of Mother Nature.  Matthew's fury played out in the island nations worse than here on the mainland.  Meanwhile, back at the ranch, unlike Matthew, The Donald is still here.  He simply annoys the bejesus out of me and for the life of me, I can't understand how anyone can possibly think he would be a good president - dictator maybe.   Enough for now before I start to get on my soapbox.

Here's this week's story.

A loud boom woke Andi out of a sound sleep.  A moment later, a flash of light brightened the bedroom, and she knew they were experiencing a rare event.  Thunderstorms in their area of Arizona were few and far between other than in monsoon season, and that was over.  She loved watching the lightning streak across the sky, preferably from the safety of somewhere indoors so she hopped out of bed to catch the show.

 Mark was still asleep so she quietly donned a pair of sweat pants, a tee shirt and carried her flip flops out of the bedroom, gently shutting the door so as not to wake him. The rain was coming down in sheets by the time she got to the kitchen.  She switched on the coffee as another clap of thunder reverberated through the house.  The boom was so loud, it must have hit something, was her thought.  The light on the coffee pot was no longer showing, and turning on the light switch, she got nothing.  Grabbing the flashlight she went to check the breaker box in the garage.  The flashlight highlighted an empty spot, and she stopped dead in her tracks.  Her car should be there – then she remembered she hadn’t pulled it into the garage the night before.

Shit,” she said to herself.  Did I even put up the top?”  She hit the garage door opener forgetting about the electricity and cursed again.  She ran to the side door and out into the rain. There in the driveway was their pride and joy – their brand new Convertible – the top down and getting a thorough wash job – inside and out.  ‘Mark is going kill me.’ She ran back to the house to get the keys – they weren’t on the kitchen rack.  ‘Damn, where did I put them.’  She was on her way to the bedroom to get her purse when she ran into Mark in the hall.

He tried to give her a morning kiss, but she blew right by him. “Where are you going in such a hurry,” he asked
“Need my car keys?” she responded.

“What for?”

“Because it’s raining.”

“Yeah, so.”

“I don’t have time for this conversation, Mark.  The car is getting wet.”

“Didn’t you put it in the garage when I asked you about it?”

She didn’t answer, just kept on moving past him.  Watching her scurry around, he guessed the answer was no.  “That’s okay, one little rain storm is not going to hurt it.”

“You don’t understand.”

“What don’t I understand,” he asked as he followed her out the side door.  That’s when he saw why she was so upset.  She ran to the car.  There had to be at least an inch of water on the seats and the floor.  She sloshed through the wet and quickly turned the key, pushing the “up” button. Mark watched the top slowly rise as Andi sat in the driver’s seat getting drenched. 
Mark was beside himself.  The previous evening he had asked her several times if she wasn’t going back out to put the car in the garage.  If she had made up her mind, he would have done it, but she kept telling him not to worry about it, she’d take care of it.  He was tired after a bear of a week and fell asleep in the chair. When he awoke, all the lights were out,  he climbed into bed – the car the last thing on his mind.

Mark undid the garage door opener.  He manually pulled open the door and told Andi that since she was already wet, she could drive the car into the garage. Mark gathered up all the towels he could find and started sopping up the water from the seats.  As soon as the electricity came back on, they’d be able to wet vac the car, but until then, this would have to do.

When they’d done their best, he handed Andi a dry towel.  She still looked like a drowned rat in her sopping wet clothes.  He waited until she had dried herself off before telling her he was going to blister her butt.

“I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“How many times did I ask you about putting the car in the garage?”

“Apparently, not enough.  If you were so goldarned worried about it, why didn’t you get up and put it away.”

“I'm not sure getting mouthy is in your best interests right now.  Besides, I would have, but you kept insisting that you would take care of it.  Well now, I’m going to take care of you."

He pushed her against the sink, put his arm on her back and with his other hand grabbed a wooden spoon from the crock.  She was standing in a puddle of water that dripped from her clothes.  He yanked down her sweatpants and was surprised to see her bare bottom.  ‘All the better, it’s one less thing I have to remove.”

The storm was still raging outside, and Mark was taking his clue from the pattern of the falling rain. He smacked Andi’s bottom over and over, playing a tune that soon had her dancing around on the wet floor.

“Stop Mark, it hurts.”  He ignored her pleas and picked up the wooden spoon.  The sounds of the wooden spoon hitting her bare flesh weren’t quite as loud as the thunderclaps outside, but Andi’s howls of protest were.  When he thought her bottom was sufficiently colored, he dropped the spoon and gave her a final few whacks with his hand. He removed his hand from her back, kissed her head and picked up her sodden clothes, taking them to the washer. Nary a word was spoken between them.

The storm was abating, the rain gently falling now, not the downpour of before.  The smell of coffee permeated the air.  A few shafts of sunlight were peeking through the windows.  Rubbing her backside, Andi looked at Mark and asked if he wanted to join her outside to look for a rainbow.

It seemed that everywhere, the power had been restored and things were back to normal.

See you later for more Aimless Ramblings