P is for what?

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.


Oh.


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.