Spider on the Wall

Last weekend Ron had an especially hard session in store for me. On the bed he had laid out his choice of implements for the afternoon: a heavy black leather strap, a delrin carpet beater (so much harder to take than the rattan one) and a short rubber paddle, textured and coloured to resemble old brick. Since I was always allowed to choose one additional implement from the toy box, I selected a thin wooden paddle made for a beach game. It had a large surface area and made a loud noise but was relatively harmless.

Ron started off with the leather strap, and for some reason my bottom felt more sensitive than usual.  It might have been because of the scented lotion I had recently rubbed on, or maybe I was just tired.

"Go easy with that thing," I cautioned.

"You like it rough," Ron countered, but he did slow down, and the whacks were a tad less forceful. He then switched to the ouchy carpet beater, which I tolerated less well, and then on to the evil rubber brick, which I absolutely hated. It was something of a relief when the beach paddle came into play. Noisy, a little stingy, but otherwise entirely tolerable.

After the warmup (such as it was!) Ron cycled through the implements again, giving me approximately twice as many swats with each one as he had in the first round. I wasn't anxious for more from the brick, and squeaked as each swat landed. I think he was using the carpet beater when he suddenly stopped and stepped back. What was he up to now?

"I see a spider," Ron announced. I felt the implement land on the bed beside me, and assumed he was joking, but then I saw him walk over to the corner of the room.

"What? I just did the dusting. I didn't see any spiders," I protested. Ron did, on the wall above his bedside table. He quickly captured it in a tissue and went into the bathroom to dispose of it. And that's when I had my chance. I seized the evil brick paddle and slipped it under the bed, then casually bent over the bed again and waited.
 
When Ron returned, it didn't take him long to notice that something was missing.


"Where's the brick?"

"Oh, is it gone?" I asked innocently. "I didn't notice." Ron didn't believe me. He looked around the room then announced, "I'm not playing anymore."

Oops! I glanced around too, pretending to be searching for the errant implement. Ron soon discovered it in its hiding place and gave me a long paddling of hard, swift strokes with the brick as punishment for my naughty deed. By then I was well warmed up and delighted in the forceful treatment.

Sometimes spiders are quite useful to have around.