Choices #18+, NSFW

I was a bad girl this morning.

Something that I have been continuously working on is how I speak to my husband.  Well, I failed miserably this morning.  I was fairly worked up for a Saturday.  I had just written a letter that I felt very uncertain about and was experiencing a fair amount of emotional angst.  By the time my husband woke and joined me in our living room, I had worked myself into quite the emotional tizzy.

The first time I criticized him, I apologized.  He accepted this apology with a raised eyebrow and a warning not to let it happen again.

The second time it happened, he told me that I had a choice.  10 minutes of corner time with a bar of soap in my mouth, or a spanking that would conclude with the cane.

As I am hosting girl’s night tonight and really didn’t want to be tasting the residue of soap with my wine, I chose the spanking.

He sent me to our bedroom, and even though he hadn’t made the request, I put myself in the corner and bared my bottom.  Hey… a girl has got to try to earn points where she can!

When he came in, he simply said, “good girl” and made his way to our walk-in closet.  I guess my display of submission was a little too late.

I heard him swishing the cane about which I knew was for my benefit… Daddy likes to inspire a little fear in this girl’s heart when she has earned it.

He took me by the arm and led me to the bed.  He arranged the pillows to his liking and told me to get over them.  When I was in position, he lifted my nightie, exposing my bare bottom.

“You are going to learn to respect me, Nora,” he told me, starting to firmly spank my bare behind with his granite palm.

“I am tired of having to repeat this same lesson, so you should expect more severe punishments in the future should this happen again,” he told me, turning my bottom a fiery red. 

The lecture he gave me inspired real tears.  I felt truly sorry and he hadn’t even started in with the cane yet.

When the volley of smacks to my bare behind finally stopped, I was dismayed to see him walk over to the chaise lounge and pick up the cane he had set there.  I think my heart skipped a beat when I realized that this was not our regular cane.  He had chosen the heavy one…the thick one…the one that is both thuddy and stingy.  This particular cane was a cane to be feared by the naughty girl who had earned it.

He told me that I had earned six strokes and I started crying again with the news.  I pleaded leniency.

“You will count each stroke and after each one, I’d like to hear you say ‘I will respect my husband’,” he told me, showing no mercy (which quite frankly is out of character for my Daddy… I think he’s been learning from a certain someone). 

I managed to choke out, “Yes, Sir,” and my caning began.

Each stroke was more painful than the last, and the stroke placed across my upper thighs will not soon be forgotten.  I cried a lot, my friends.  The kind of ugly tears that women hate to own up to, where our faces get red and our noses run.

A lesson was learned this morning.  My husband made his point, and his stinging reminder still burns across my bottom.  Let’s hope that this girl doesn’t need a repeat reminder any time soon.

But I am curious…would you have chosen the soap or the caning?  Naughty minds would like to know!

XOXO,

Nora