I just got spanked. In the kitchen in front of the large window overlooking the street. And A. wouldn't even let me put the blinds down! Granted the counter goes up past my waist so any pervs in the apartment across the street wouldn't be able to see that he'd pull down my jammy bottoms and was reddening my bottom with many hard smacks. Instead they'd just see me wincing and moving about in an effort to move my ass out of the way of A.'s oncoming right hand.
What, you ask, merited such punishment? A. claims I was being snippy. Not that I would own up to it while I was getting spanked, but looking back I concede that maybe I was being a wee bit snippy. But just a wee bit, mind you.
Today has been the first day that I've felt halfway normal for the last month and a half so I thought I'd post and let you know I'm still alive. A. has been here for a full two weeks now and Sunday I finally got my first spanking. Though it was nothing like the spanking he got last week on his birthday. Perhaps I'll write more about that later.
On an off-topic note, yesterday was ME/CFS Awareness Day. Last year I posted a bit about it, and I thought I'd post a link to the CFIDS Association Virtual Lobby Day where you can send emails to government officials in an effort to increase money for research, earning my eternal gratitude.
Update 1:20 am: In response to my bratting for it at bedtime, A. just gave me a taste of our new rubber paddle -- ouch! My favorite line from this spanking had to be him ordering me to "shut up and be submissive for once in your life!"