The Wow Spot

Ron has become quite adventurous lately. Take last Saturday, for example. He was waiting for me in the bedroom, the dressage whip on the bed beside him and the open toybox on the floor at his feet.

"Take your pick," he offered magnanimously.

I found it hard to take my eyes off the whip; obviously he had already made his choice for the afternoon's activities. After rummaging through the contents of the box, I selected a wooden spoon and my favourite leather paddle. Ron nodded his approval and took them from me so I could prepare my bottom for the inevitable.

When I was suitably unclothed and in position over the end of the bed, the fireworks began. First the wooden spoon, administered in a rapid staccato pattern of left, right, left, right. Too fast, too hard, I thought, as I always do at the beginning of a spanking, but I said nothing except "ow!" and kept still.

Ron picked up the dressage whip next, but I quickly said, "Not yet. I'm not warmed up enough," so he relinquished his hold on it and took up the paddle instead. I waited for the hard thud of the flat surface on my bottom. And waited. And waited. I looked back and saw Ron smiling at me. He was messing with my mind.

Finally he got down to business, and a new and different pattern emerged. Instead of left, right, left, right, it was left, right, centre, left, right, centre - the centre being the middle of the spot where my bottomcheeks meet my thighs. The sweet spot? It was the ouch spot to me, and I told him so repeatedly. Every third swat elicited at least one loud "Ow!" and sometimes more.

"What did you say?" Ron asked. not pausing for an answer.

"Ow! I said 'ow!' Ow!"

"Was that 'Ow' or 'Wow'?"

"Not 'Wow', 'Ow'."

Ron wasn't listening. "I found your Wow spot!" he said delightedly, and made sure he gave it a lot of extra but quite unnecessary attention.

By the time my husband switched to the dressage whip that had been postponed earlier, I was almost glad. Anything to give my Wow spot some relief.The whip is such a stingy implement that although I had been able to hold my position earlier, I couldn't avoid displaying my displeasure at the force and speed of the strokes. I cautiously inched my way sideways along the foot of the bed, trying to get out of range. Ron had to reach farther, and then started to follow me in my futile escape attempt. We both stopped when I reached the far edge, and I had to stand up and walk back to my starting position.

The whip was too slender and flexible to connect with the Wow spot, so it danced on my bottom, thighs and calves, with intermittent whooshings as Ron swished it back and forth through the air near my head, enjoying the characteristic sound it made. I stoically endured its harsh caress, and became silent, struggling for control. Ron noticed, and tickled my ear with the tip of the implement. I exhaled and giggled. To my great relief we finished off with more of the spoon and the paddle.

"I'm glad I found your Wow spot," Ron said as he hugged me. He couldn't get enough of his new joke.

"I'll bet you are," I grumbled as I accepted his and returned his embrace.

I wonder whether Ron has been studying my spanking reference books in his spare time.