So I promised you guys spanking tales, yes I did. And there is indeed one to report. Okay, this started way back on October 5th. That was my last day of work before my vacation. In our city we have red light cameras. If you're unfamiliar with these, they are cameras set up to catch people running red lights. If you cross the sensor against the light, it takes your car's picture with a nice close up of the license plate and sends you a nice $50 traffic ticket. Now by and far these are good things. Traffic fatalities have dropped tremendously since they were installed, because people are a lot less likely to try to beat the cross traffic if they know it will cost them fifty bucks even if they do make it safely across.
So anyway, there are a number of these cameras on my way to and from work. One of them is at a red light where I turn right each day on my way home. Now, let me say in my defense, it is legal (in my city at least) to turn right on red, providing there's no sign that specifically says "No right turn on red." And in fact, there is no such sign at this intersection. And on Friday the 5th, flush with the freedom of a newly begun vacation, I headed gleefully home, turning right under the red light as usual when I saw that there was no oncoming traffic. So I was a bit shocked when on the 13th I pulled a red light ticket out of our mailbox. Sure, I turned right on red. Every freakin day. So why is this suddenly not okay?
I called Nick immediately and said, "Am I insane? It is still legal to turn right on red isn't it?" He agreed that yes indeed it was, and we decided that I hadn't come to a complete stop before turning, and perhaps that had triggered the ticket. At any rate, he wasn't too upset with me. I hadn't done anything dangerous, and we'd both learned that the traffic cameras don't like rolling stops into legal turns.
I agreed to make my turn into the parking lot just before the intersection (which exits onto the road I was turning onto anyway), and thus avoid the whole possibility in the future.
Okay, fast forward to this past Saturday. Morgan has been a little under the weather, so I took her to the doctor. One my way back home I called Nick and he met us for lunch at a little pizza place near our house. When he got out of his truck he had one question for me. "What was the date on your traffic ticket?" When I told him, he have me a look. "You got another one in the mail today."
"What?"
"In the same damn place too."
This did not bode well for me and my butt.
"I thought you told me you weren't turning at that light any more."
"I'm not!" I protested.
"Well clearly you are - we have photographic evidence." The thing is, I really had been turning into the parking lot. But as I thought back, I recalled one particular day when I just plain forgot until I was halfway through the turn under the red light. I didn't think much about it at the time, because it was turning red as I went under it. Over pizza he made it clear that this particular ticket was something we'd be dealing with later.
We spent Saturday afternoon and evening at my parent's house, and by the time we got home it was getting late. He gave me an option of going to the garage to take care of it then or waiting until the next night when Morgan was either occupied or asleep. It had been a while since I'd been really spanked, and I knew that I didn't want to get what would probably be a hard one out in the garage. There was no good place to position myself, and I was afraid I wouldn't be able to hold still. I asked him to wait until the next day.
All day Sunday I was pretty quiet. Frankly I was worried about it. I knew I had seriously screwed up with the second ticket, and he'd also mentioned that there would be other issues addressed. He felt like I just hadn't had my head on straight about a lot of things, and he was right, but that didn't make me dread the spanking any less. Something else that was increasing my anxiety was a serious conversation we'd had when we came home from my parents' house the night before.
There are certain changes we need to make in our life together. We're not the most responsible with money, our health is not where we want it to be, and, while I may be the one who gets spanked for the house, it stems from all three of us just having too much stuff and not being good at controlling what we do with it. For the first time in a long time I saw my husband determined to make some major life changes, and he was determined to bring me along with him. Now honestly, this has been a huge relief for me. I've been just as ready to re-prioritize as he's been, but I've needed him as a motivating force behind me. There have been some unexpected issues that have brought all of this to the forefront, and I'll probably talk about those in a later post. But anyway, the raw determination, while both exciting and comforting to me, was also unnerving with a spanking looming.
Sunday morning we went to church, then came home and played with Morgan in the yard for a few hours. By the time she was ready to go in and watch TV I was ready to pull my hair out with thinking about what I had coming. Finally I asked him to do it soon, so that I didn't have to spend the rest of my weekend dreading it.
Not long after he led me upstairs and locked the door behind us. He pulled me onto my stomach on the bed and began to spank. He started hard with his hand over my jeans, and it always surprises me just how much his hand hurts through denim. Before very long he got up to open the toy box. I was really expecting him to pull out Jokari, which would have been no fun at all, and pretty much the worst thing I expected. So it was with a bit of a whimper that I watched him retrieve "The Big Paddle." I can't even recall the last time I was punished with this thing. It's crazy heavy, and seems to be about eight feet long. He made it when we were dating and he was trying to come up with something to indulge his new spank-crazy girlfriend. Back then I couldn't handle it even for play. Even now a relatively light pop is enough to leave a lingering burn.
These days, if I'm really horny, I can definitely develop a craving for it during play, but it's a serious enough implement that he very rarely brings it out for discipline.
When it came down to it though, he was much more lenient on me than I expected. I was pretty miserable about the ticket among other things already, so he knew that it wouldn't take too much with that paddle to bring me to where I needed to be. I got probably 50 with the paddle, although the last twenty were very, very hard. I got quite a few more with his hand. When it was over he cuddled me for a bit.
As it usually does, the cuddling led to more, and very soon we were reconnecting on a whole other level. It was a well spanked and well satisfied girl who got up from that bed. Even four years into this it still amazes me the level of calm and peace that comes over me after being punished. As much as I dread it, it makes me feel so loved and protected. I'm a very blessed wife.
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