Weather Wolf

Does the weather affect spanking for you? It makes a difference to us.

When the temperature and humidity are soaring, the last thing Ron wants is to have me across his lap when we are both hot and sweaty. So we reserve that kind of close bodily contact for more moderate temperatures. The best position in hot weather is bent over the end of the bed. This allows us plenty of accessibility to intimate areas without actually getting too close for comfort, and Ron can use one of the longer implements.

On the other hand, when there's a chill in the air, I'm reluctant to dress in something skimpy (or nothing at all) and stay exposed for very long. In that case, it's so much nicer to start off by cuddling under the sheets, then gradually progress to a spanking over pillows when I'm feeling warmer all over.

Then again, if rain is predicted for one day on the weekend, and sunshine's in the forecast for the day we usually enjoy spanking, we'll switch our schedule so that we can spend the fine day outdoors, and save our indoor fun for the rainy day.

Have you ever looked at the sun and seen a small multi-coloured patch, like a little piece of rainbow, on one or both sides? That's called a weather wolf, and it signifies that rain is on the way. Ron is my weather wolf. He's quite the weather-watcher, and likes to be able to predict it. He's ever on the lookout for precipitation.

One afternoon, rain was in the forecast. We had a date for spanking, but I wondered if he was going to be able to tear himself away from the Weather Network, the barometer on the wall, and his five favourite weather websites.

He eventually switched off the TV and said, "it's time" and I hurried up to the bedroom to get ready. I waited, and finally heard his footsteps on the stairs and in the hall, going past the door. Where did he go?

A few minutes later he appeared in the doorway. "There are storm clouds coming in pretty fast from the west." He had been gazing out of the window instead of into my eyes. I got his attention, and he did his best to administer a decent spanking, although he tended to stop after every three or four swats to ask "did that sound like thunder to you?" And he didn't mean the noise of the paddle on my skin.

We eventually accomplished our mission and were lying curled together. I gently stroked Ron's hair but he pulled away, sat up and said "it's raining."

"So what? Who cares? Come here." I wanted a little aftercare.

"Don't you have laundry outside on the line?"

Yikes! I leapt out of bed, pulled on my shorts and t-shirt, and raced downstairs and out into the back yard to rescue the washing from the rain. As I quickly filled the laundry basket I realized that I hadn't even had time to examine my reddened bottom in the mirror. By the time I dealt with the damp clothes, the redness would have faded. Maybe next time I should check the weather before a spanking.