He sits on the edge of the bed, paddle in hand.
We're both not feeling so hot, so I thought maybe we'd skip my spanking this morning. But no, he is sitting there with the paddle in hand. The paddle is kinda my fave. Unless he's using the soft leather strap. Or his belt. Or... ok, ok, I digress.
I see him with that paddle in hand. It's so freaking hot. Often I get a spanking when he's dressed for work (which is hot), but today he's wearing jeans and a hooded sweatshirt (which is also hot).
"Come on over and climb aboard," he says.
When I see him there with the paddle I think, "Yep. What was I thinking? Of course I want a spanking."
So I scoot over, pull 'em down, and lay over his lap. Only there's one problem. I have a pair of fluffy socks on that I call my slippy socks, because I can practically ice skate around my house in them.
I lay myself over his lap and sliiiiiddddeeee my feet go sliding back. I try again, and again, but I can't get my footing! The slippy socks are doing their job, and I'm sprawled over his lap like a sack of potatoes.
Smack! The paddle cracks down. "Wait, honey, I can't get my footing!" I protest.
"You mean you can't get away?" he asks with a chuckle. "Good!"
"Babe, please, my feet are sliding all over the place and -- ow!"
"Nope. You keep those socks on your feet. I love this." He's laughing while he cracks the paddle on my butt.
I slide and lay hopelessly prostrate over his knee, the oomph of air wooshing out of me as my full weight lay across his thighs. I am helpless to move! No scootching over! No squirming! Just splat across his lap.
I wiggle and squirm, and with no way to support myself I feel like I weigh a million pounds, so it utterly shocks me when with one freaking arm tucked under me, he picks me up bodily and positions me right where he wants me! (Ok, that was hot.)
Smack! He spanks me, and he spanks me, and he spanks me (and yeah, I love it).
Finally, he's done. I'm all jelly-legged, with a screaming hot bottom, and I literally slide right off his lap onto my knees, which he finds wildly amusing.
"This is awesome," he chuckles. "Next time I need to punish you, I'm telling you to go get your slippy socks on so you can't get away. It'll be like code.
He gets all stern and serious. "I'll just say, 'Babe. Slippy Socks.' "
I frown, trying to hide my secret amusement. "What are you talking about?" I say petulantly. "There will be no punishment! There is no next time! I'm a good girl and I won't need to be punished!"
Without another word, he picks the paddle up, bends over and Smack! lands a good one on my screaming hot rear end.
We both laugh out loud.
"Was that for lying?" I laugh.