About halfway through our meal, I discovered that the table wasn’t exactly even, and by leaning on it, I could make it shift. It wasn’t enough to spill anything or disturb anything, but Paul told me to stop it. So I did. But then I did it again — entirely by accident, of course! And the third and fourth and fifth time were by accident, too. I was very accident prone, until he leaned over and whispered in my ear:
“You’re going to get spanked for being so naughty when we get home. If you keep this up, you’re going to get spanked here.”
I doubted that he would actually spank me in a restaurant, but since it was my favorite place, I didn’t want to risk it. Despite feeling a bit squirmy after this scolding, I sat quietly through the rest of the meal and pushed only one button in the elevator on the way back down.
Once we got home, we snuggled up on the sofa for a while. I continued to talk a mile a minute to catch up on all the things that he had missed while gone. Eventually, the subject changed to my earlier naughtiness.
“I think you need to be spanked for making such mischief, and for disobeying me,” he told me, pulling me over his lap as he sat on the sofa and lifting my short, heart-printed dress. I was wearing white cotton panties with pink hearts on them, and he rubbed my bottom gently for a while: it was still slightly tender from having been spanked so thoroughly the night before. Then, he started to spank me. The sound rang through the room, sounding incredibly loud, and I let out a sound which was not just caused by the sharp sting. He continued, slowly and firmly, and I cooed, purred, whimpered and wriggled. I wanted more. I wanted to be spanked even harder, and I wanted it to be faster.
He teased me for a few moments, but the spanking grew, and it got exactly that: hard and fast. Soon I was gasping, overwhelmed, unable to process each individual sensation until it grew into one big, all encompassing feeling and I slipped, as if underwater, into a delicate, passive place. I was flushed with arousal and entirely content. After a few minutes, he stopped and leaned in to whisper to me again: “I don’t think that spanking you is enough. I’m going to beat you.” He stood me up and pulled my dress all the way off, enjoying the sight of me standing in my panties for a moment before giving me an instruction: “Go get my cane.”