Sting and Thud

As we prepared for our regularly scheduled spanking last week Ron announced, "I need to start the potatoes at 5:00 so I can put them in at 5:30." Ron was making ham and scalloped potatoes for dinner. It was the last subject I wanted to discuss at the moment; i had other things on my mind. "I hope you can squeeze me into your busy schedule," I remarked sarcastically. "Oh, I think I can accommodate you." Then he started spanking my bare bottom briskly with a broad, light wooden paddle, as if in a race against the clock. The implement lineup was a mixture of wood and leather. Some sting and some thud - just the way I like it.      When he used the wooden shoehorn, Ron concentrated his strokes on the area just at the top of my thighs, a place that I consider especially tender, and I complained loudly. That only prompted him to apply the paddle and the other implements that followed more vigorously to that area. "Does that hurt?" "Ow! Yes!" "That's good, eh? Hurting is good!" And he continued to prove his point on my rapidly reddening backside. "Yeah, I suppose." But not really. I was wearing a short-sleeved cotton shirt with no bra underneath, and it kept riding up, partially exposing my breasts. I reached back and pulled it down to my waist. Ron immediately pushed it back up. A few minutes later, after more wriggling on my part, I felt it ride up again. I pulled my shirt down; Ron pushed it up. I got the point; he was in control. With a last flurry of very hard strokes from the big leather paddle, Ron announced, "you're done". But as I struggled to regain my composure and stand upright, he landed one final whack on my posterior. "Ow! That hurt!" I whined. "Bummer," was his unsympathetic reply. "Smart ass," I retorted, but I had to laugh.