Grumpy Girl Spanked Again

Mike and Michelle, in addition to knowing the highest and best use for frosting, had some spanking fun again the other day:

This afternoon Mike and I rented the extended version of the Two Towers. Yep, geeks. Whatever. I was baking a cake, so half an hour into the movie I had to go take it out of the oven. Then, of course, once the cake was cooled, I had to go ice it. Mike kept telling me to leave it til the movie was over, but I’m all for instant gratification and I wanted cake, so….

This annoyed my Master. He told me in no uncertain terms (did you hear that audio blog below? Yes, his voice can be very firm) that when the movie was over, I was to be punished. Then we put icing on my nipples and he licked it off.

I got up to go take a shower, seeing as we’d had a very sweaty lovemaking session this morning, not to mention my boobs were still a bit sticky from that frosting. As I walked by Mike, he grabbed both my wrists, pushed me down quite roughly across his knees, and spanked. Thoroughly spanked. I struggled against his hands — his left hand was holding both of my wrists behind my back, while his right came down repeatedly on my sore, reddened ass. His fingers dug into my wrists and he told me to “stop now, or you will not get any mercy from me”. I stopped and he picked up a ruler from the table in front of us. I was very vocal in protesting its use, but do you think that stopped him? Of course it didn’t stop him. He actually laughed when I begged him to stop.

It was only when he was satisfied that he let me go, to the shower.

I hate cold showers.

I hate being cold, at all. So you can imagine my dislike of the fact that I had to have the water on nearly freezing to soothe my burning flesh.

I got out of the shower, wet and shivering, my hair dripping freezing-cold water down my back– euuugh. Mike said something facetious to me on the subject of drowned rats, and I snapped back. Yes, I get GRUMPY if I’m cold.

Oh, and in case you were wondering: snapping? Not the best of all ideas when your boyfriend is in a Dom mood. Before the last word had left my lips he was across the room, my towel was ripped from my body, and I was lying, face down, on the bed. He left my wrists untied, unrestrained — his words can be enough to hold me. His words, and my will. He used a wooden spoon this time, and welts rose on my skin. It was all I could do to keep my hands above my head where he ordered me to leave them — but I did it.

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