Catching up

Okay, we finally got the Internet connection fixed, so it's time to catch you up on the spankings I've had in the last two weeks.

As my last post mentioned, I was a bit cranky last week and this time a bit more vocal about it. Though, my boyfriend, A., says that my cranky is really "cranky-lite," the "diet-Coke of cranky" with pinky finger hooked to the corner of his mouth. (Think "The Spy Who Shagged Me.") At any rate, I woke up that day really achy and tired because I hadn't slept well due to the fact that my hip is STILL bothering me after almost a year now and has flared up even more the last few weeks. I had been annoyed with all kinds of things all day and when I got pouty, A. just responded with silly faces to make me laugh. Which did make me laugh, making me all the more annoyed.

"Stop it," I'd whine.

"But it's the best remedy for crankiness," he'd say.

"Nuh uh."

"That's alright, I'll sort you out later." He couldn't then because my dad was with us. So later that night after I'd taken my dad home, I figured he'd be sorting me out. When he just got ready for bed instead, I got really bratty. He emerged from the bathroom to find me sitting on the corner of the bed, my arms folded over my chest.

"About fucking time you got out of the bathroom."

He gave me that mock-shocked look as I went into the bathroom. While I, um, did my business in there, I could hear him rummaging around underneath the bed.

Damnit! Why oh why can't he just use his frickin' hand? Why does he need implements?

To be honest, as it was over a week ago, I don't remember the details of that spanking well. I believe there was a strap and a brush involved. And a half-assed lecture about swearing. I do, however, remember him saying afterwards when we cuddled that it was hard for him to be very stern when I'm cranky because it's so cute.

Sigh...what can I say? Maybe I should change my nickname to the Cranky Cutie. ;)

The second spanking took place last week while we were on holiday at the Coast. We stayed in the cottage of the Sandlake Country Inn, a delightful Bed and Breakfast in Pacific City where our privacy was priority for the innkeepers. Indeed, each morning they brought breakfast in a basket, placed it on the doorstep, rang the doorbell and left. The only time we saw them was when we arrived and when we left. Which was a good thing because we packed with kinky play in mind. However, we didn't end up doing much kinky play as those bastards at Thrifty Car Rental failed to tell us over the phone about a variety rules, including those about additional drivers, despite being specifically asked, so I ended up having to drive, causing my hip pain to flare up to ungodly levels. After a night of very little sleep, we decided to have A. drive and hope we didn't get into an accident or anything as I was utterly incapapble of driving by that point.

And we needed to drive up to Cannon Beach to meet a spanko friend from online. The innkeeper said that it would only take an hour or so to drive to Cannon Beach. We were meeting our friend at 5:30, so leaving at 4:30 seemed reasonable, right? Wrong. It actually takes about an hour and 15 minutes. And of course, I was running about 10 minutes late. Why? I have no idea. I'm always late and still can't quite figure out what exactly causes me to be late. Then there was road work. Though that didn't throw us off too much. But we ended up in Cannon Beach at 6:05 pm.

"I'm so blaming you," A. said as we got out of the car. As always (it's a play thing). Though this was rather merited as we did leave late because of me. We ended up missing our friend. And while I enjoyed the poshest dinner I've ever had later that night at the Stephanie Inn, it was with a twinge of dread as I knew a spanking awaited me at the end of the night. Tardiness usually carries a six strokes with the brush per minute late penalty. And A. had most assuredly packed the brush. Thankfully he was in a merciful mood when we got back to the cottage, especially as our being late wasn't entirely my fault. I only got the strap and his hand. Which made for a nice, cozy glow to sleep on. If only he would do all bedtime spankings like that...

The last spanking was Friday. We finally got our Internet connection up, and the new cane arrived from Adam and Gillian's. I was trying to catch up a bit on blog reading and managed to make it over to the Punishment Book where Mija was showing off some antique brushes she's put on sale at Ebay. I didn't even get a chance to finish reading the post as A. decided my reading a spanking blog was a sure sign I was hankering for a spanking, despite my protestations to the contrary. It was over a pile of pillows on the bed for me.

My first taste of a rattan cane was almost a year ago. At that time I remember thinking that rattan stings much more than bamboo. And Friday I was reminded of just how much they sting. I got six of the best several times over as A. played around with intensity and position. Then he decided to compare it with the riding crop to see which one hurt more. OW! Definitely still have to go with the riding crop as the more painful implement. There was a final nine strokes that were fairly severe. Then the strap. Then his hand. Then lots of cuddling during which I fell asleep.

Spankings do seem to have that affect on me.

So, my gentle readers, you are all caught up. And no, we still have not had the "discussion" yet, but I suspect that will be the next post.