Fun With Spankable Offenses

So I’m on the phone tonight with the new light of my life and we’re sharing our frustration at how long it’s going to be until we can get together. And you all know that a frustrated brat is trouble looking for a paddle. What’s a man to do, when she’s out of reach?

I don’t know what you would do, but I’m keeping a book. With dates and times and descriptions of her impertinences, each accompanied by a (usually low) number of strokes to be applied for same. (Strokes with what, you may ask? You may. She certainly has. I’m not telling. Women love a little mystery, especially in connection with the fate of their lovely bottoms.)

There will come a day (or days, at the rate she’s going) of reckoning. And she knows it. So when I tell her I’m writing another entry in the book, she wheedles and argues and attempts to bargain, most entertainingly.

Tonight was especially fun.

She’d been playing with a clothespin as we talked, bending the spring in an attempt to reduce its grip, and teasing me by giving little yelps from time to time to express her unhappiness with test applications to various soft parts of herself. I was teasing her right back, about the brevity of these tests. After a bit of this I convinced her to put the clothespin on her nipple while I counted the seconds. She managed fourteen seconds, and almost as many extremely cute whimpers, before she took it off.

So then a little later I said something outrageous and she playfully blew a raspberry into the phone. This is a common impertinence of hers with an established two-stroke penalty. Of which fact I reminded her.

She starts to bargain. I stand firm. Discipline must be kept in the tent, and all that. Finally she goes “Will you not write it down if I put the clothespin on my nipple for a minute?” From her lack of emphasis on the word “minute”, it’s clear she means “a small unit of time” but I run with it. “A whole minute? OK, but if you take it off sooner, it doesn’t count and I write it down.”

There follows a period of cuteness and backtalk, but she’s a brave and honest girl who does what she says she’ll do. During the minute, she made the most entertaining noises, which only got more heartfelt after the minute was up and the clothespin came off and the blood started rushing back.

Funny thing, though – she didn’t blow any more raspberries after that.

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