This blog is brought to you today by the letter P and the letter M.
Yes, I messed up. I messed up in a very big way and dropped the F bomb. I received a little mercy. I didn’t get the punishment I dearly deserved. You know the story.
Saturday, I knew the punishment had to happen but it was a very busy day. Between sports activities there was no time for us. When we finally got home we both fell in bed with no pillow talk.
Sunday, I admitted to him that I needed that punishment. The guilt was eating away at my heart. We slept late and had a lot of pillow talk before we got the kids out of bed. He knew I was struggling. He knew I needed the P that should have happened and planned to deliver it latter in the day. Latter Sunday didn’t happen, asthma did.
Monday. Work, late night game, huge fire in a neighboring city. No time for P and when there was, we were both tired and I had another asthma attack.
Tuesday, even with grocery shopping after practice, we were home earlier than usual. A quick and easy supper was fixed. I read, a family tradition this time of the year. I was expecting P as in punishment but it turned into pampering.
I walked into the bedroom and heard the water running in the tub. The scent of lavender and chamomile filled the room. BUBBLE BATH! ! ! ! I soaked and relaxed. As the water was cooling I shaved my legs. Easier done in the bath than the shower. When I was ready for bed, I crawled in beside Dragon.
He gathered the floggers and told me to take off my shirt. I rearranged the pillows and positioned myself for a long flogging. The tails felt like leather rain. Heaven at first. Gentile, relaxing. I almost went to sleep. Then he brought out the one I call “Snake.” That thing is wicked. It BITES. As in, it has a wicked sting. Thankfully, he didn’t use it very long.
When he put snake down I thought he was done. I was beyond relaxed and ready to sleep the night away. No such luck. He pulled my panties down and picked up one of our many paddles. No idea which one. I can usually tell which one he is using but not last night.
At first it was just a series of gentile taps. He drummed out a tune on my backside. Slowly the swats got harder until I felt him throw his leg across mine. If you think that is a bad sign, you are absolutely right. He held me down and told me to burry my head in the pillow. The paddle fell again and again. It hurt so bad. I kept trying to get away but his leg held me firmly in place.
I asked, “was that a Punishment?
No, those were memory swats.
What are memory swats?
Swats that you will remember tomorrow.
Vocabulary lesson learned.
P is for Pampered wife and for punishment. But… Not at the same time
M is not for maintenance. It is for Memory swats.
Yep, I remember them this morning. My sore backside won’t let me forget.