Benched!

The past few weeks have been hectic, and the weather certainly complicated matters. Often, spankings took a back seat to snow shoveling, which used up all our energy. By the time the weather had settled down--albeit briefly--I was very much overdue for some attention. Ron chose my favourite leather paddle and, while explaining and then demonstrating to me exactly why it was his favourite too, he made up for the delay and then some. When he was finally finished, I had a smile on my face and a bottom that stayed red for several hours.

I was still feeling the afterglow when some friends arrived to spend the evening. Once coats and boots had been stored away and everyone was seated in the living room, I looked for a place to sit. Wouldn't you know it, the only vacant place was the piano bench. The hard, unpadded, wooden bench. I perched on the edge and my cheeks winced in protest. After a few minutes of polite conversation I got up to get snacks from the kitchen, and managed to avoid sitting by being a very attentive hostess.

Dinner was no easier. The dining room chairs are also wooden, and unadorned with any sort of cushion. The meal took my mind off my predicament, and I found reasons to be up and about fairly often, clearing plates, refilling glasses, or whatever else I could think of doing.

Once the table had been cleared, I had to return to the bench for the rest of the evening. While on a brief trip outdoors to supervise the dogs on a biological break, I looked at the large snowbanks and thought how good the cold snow would feel on my stinging bottom. I was very tempted, but thought of the very obvious impression my posterior would leave in the snow and resisted the impulse.

So, note to self: no spanking allowed less than 24 hours before we have company look for a piano bench cushion in the January sales.