Double your Pleasure, Double your Pain

This happened last weekend on the day of our usual spanking date.

Ron had been very generous in his selection of implements and equally energetic in their application. In fact, my bottom felt like it was on fire by the time he let me get up.

A couple of hours passed, and the burn was still there - a happy reminder of our afternoon fun. As we cleared the table after dinner, Ron gave my posterior a solid slap as I bent to put the plates into the dishwasher.

"Ow," I yelped.

"Did that hurt?" my dear husband queried innocently.

"Yes," I whined in mock annoyance.

"Good." Ron sounded satisfied that his earlier exertions had had the desired effect.

Later as we snuggled on the couch watching tv, I squirmed from time to time as my sore bottom reminded me of the earlier spanking. At bedtime I stood up and rubbed my cheeks.

"Oh, they're still sore," I informed Ron. "You did a very thorough job." I put my arms around him and hugged him. "Thank you."

He seemed happy to hear the praise. By way of reply, a hard swat landed on my right bottomcheek.

"Did that hurt?"

"Yes!"

Another swat. "Did that hurt?"

"Ow! Yes!"

A flurry of open-handed swats followed, interspersed at intervals with the same question. I giggled, wiggled, and replied emphatically in the affirmative. By the time he stopped I had been treated to my second spanking of the day, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

We gasped, still out of breath from laughing, and Ron gestured to the couch we had recently vacated. Our three furry companions were lying there quietly - Fluffy and Crookshanks together at one end, and Fang at the other - and all seemed totally unimpressed by our antics.

"They aren't even bothered by all the noise," Ron said. That had often been a concern in the past, but obviously our pack has adjusted to loud smacking sounds.

This opens the door to all sorts of possibilities.