Mr Wilson took a seat at the kitchen table and waited as I fumbled my way through making a cup of tea for us both. He cleared his throat to get my attention.
‘I’m a bit fussy ’bout my tea Ms, do you have a teapot you can brew it in? I don’t like this teabag in a cup lark, it smacks of cheap and you only get one brew. I’ve a feeling we’re goin’ to be here a while. A nice china tea service would go a long way in your favour right now.’
I was instantly fuming. Cheeky sod, it wasn’t enough he had threatened to spank me, now he was bossing me around in my own bloody kitchen! Cheek of the man! I bit back my sarcastic response and just nodded mutely as once again my situation crept up and slapped me on the arse. ‘Suck it up buttercup, you did this to yourself!’ I muttered under my breath to myself and went and fetched the big brown teapot only ever used when Nan had come to call. It brought back it’s own memories too, Nan had never had a problem putting me over her knee whenever she came to visit, even if I hadn’t done anything wrong, she would call it a maintenance spanking to keep me going till I needed a proper seeing to, as she so delicately put it. Rest her soul, she was gone now, but that teapot meant she would never be forgotten. How ironic it was going to be used today of all days!
I swirled hot water through it to warm it, tipped it out and then opened a box of fresh tea leaves, if he didn’t hold with a brew in a cup he wasn’t going to want tea bags in a pot and I certainly didn’t want to rile him up any more than he was already.
Finally I had prepared the tea, my bottom was throbbing so hard I could barely sit, but sit I did on the hard high backed kitchen chair. Why didn’t I have bloody cushions on these damn things! I winced as I sat down and thumped the teapot down in the centre of the table along side the cups and saucers he had insisted upon. Tea should be drunk out of china whenever possible! Really? Well fuck off home and drink it out of your own bloody china then! Not a word passed my lips though, I kept my rising temper firmly at bay. I was in enough trouble already. I risked a glance at him to see if he was winding me up at all, you know, a twinkle of a smile in his eyes, a small lift to his very straight lips? You know the thing, that one where they wind you up unmercifully and then take pity on you when they’ve watched you squirm for a while? He wasn’t winding me up, infact, he was at the opposite end of the scale of humour entirely. His mouth was set in a dour thin line, his eyes were cloudy with dismay and a subtle look that screamed discipline was coming, his whole body was taught with his ‘upset’ and I knew my backside was going to suffer a terrible fate at his hands in the very near future. I didn’t have a choice!
The other thing you should know about Mr Wilson is this, he is the village gossip! He will gossip all day every day with anyone who will stand still long enough to listen, he cleans windows in three local villages and we all know each other either as passing acquaintances or well enough to be on first name terms! No way could I have him spreading my humiliation far and wide! I would have to move bloody house. If a spanking from him could prevent that, then I would take one for the team. That’s all there was to it!
Mr Wilson swirled the tea in the pot and looked around the table for the strainer, he tutted once and shook his head and I jumped up immediately, realising what he was missing. I rummaged through the junk drawer for the strainer and out it came battered and bent but still a strainer. I placed it down in front of him and returned to the most torturous chair in the known universe.
Finally, tea made to his liking, in a china cup as per his instruction, through a bloody strainer as was his want, with two sugar lumps plopped in and stirred for the longest, slowest amount of time, ever! He was finally ready to receive my story.
Now then Ms, perhaps you could explain why you have a red bottom and thighs on show in the middle of the morning when you know your window cleaner is going to be cleaning your bedroom window? And… he raised a hand to delay my outpouring, ‘why you would have to be doing the spanking for yourself?’
I waited a beat in case he hadn’t finished and then I launched into what could only be described as a bad case of verbal diarrhoea as I explained my fruitless searches, my need for discipline and my decision to self-spank because of the lack of a suitable candidate. I explained about the CP I had received throughout my formative years and how it had shaped my thinking as an adult. I explained that my ex-husband would never have tried to discipline me because he had never cared enough about me to want to help me get things right.
I was laying it on thick now, I was hoping he was going to see that I was genuinely trying to help myself and had not been having some debauched exhibitionist moment in my bedroom today. I was genuinely fed up with my own lack of discipline and I needed taking in hand, even if it was my own hand. My bottom screamed at me as I moved around to try and find a softer spot on the chair which made me grimace again.
He saw the movement, and the grimace and he flicked a hand in the direction of my hot bottom as he spoke.
‘So you had a firm spanking today already then?’
I nodded quickly.
He nodded his head and pursed his lips as he thought about everything I had told him. My god this man was so SLOW!
Finally, he spoke. ‘It seems to me you’ve taken the easy way out of proper disciplining with this ‘self-spanking thing’ , there is no way that you can spank yourself hard enough to bring tears of contrition to your eyes and sobs of compliance to your lips with a few light spanks with a hairbrush and a spatula. I saw what you were using, they were lying on the bed. No one ever got a good spanking by flicking their wrist to tap their arse!
I was incensed, I jumped up, full of righteous indignation, I pointed a trembling finger at him as I spoke, ‘Now you look here Mr Wilson, I tanned my own backside good and proper today, I howled and cried for a good ten minutes after I had finished and I finished with 12 strokes of the most evil cane in the world! My bottom is so very sore right now I can’t sit on it and I am properly contrite and compliant as can be. I accept that what happened this morning should never have been allowed to happen but it was a mistake and I will make sure it will never happen again. I have been properly chastised I can assure you!’
I took a deep steadying breath and sat down again with a thump, which I instantly regretted because my bottom throbbed horribly at the indignity I had just served upon it.
Mr Wilson raised his eyebrow at me and let out a mirthless chuckle. Ms Strong, you need to pay attention to what I’m about to say to you. You are not getting away with your appalling behaviour from this morning, you nearly made me fall from me ladder! Waving that red backside about, your dress up in your waist and your knickers down round your ankles. You need to understand I will not tolerate such wanton behaviour from one of my clients. I am not a man who can be easily seduced Ms Strong. I am very happily married to my wife of 30 years. This morning was a divorcee’s attempt at getting a tupping if ever I saw one!
I had no idea what he was on about now, I felt like I had taken a trip down the farm and gone back in time to the 1800’s what the hell was a tupping when it was at home?
I’m sorry, I don’t understand, what’s a tupping? I asked cautiously. I wasn’t actually sure I wanted to know. But he told me. Oh dear, I still can’t shake the images! It gave me nightmares for a week!
He tutted, shook his head and then patiently explained. ‘You must know what a tupping is, you live in the country, woman! A tupping, a right good seeing to, a poking, a rump slapping hump, a ride on the cowboy, call it what you want, I am not in the market to provide it for you. I love my wife and am a faithful, honest and strictly religious man and you have offended me greatly today Ms Strong. Now what do you suggest we do to repair the damage?
I never got past a rump slapping hump, the ride on the cowboy was still hovering in the air waiting for me to look at it but I stalwartly refused to see that image! OMG he thought I wanted him to climb through the bloody window and slip me a quickie! All thoughts of not swearing had long since left the building along with my dignity, and my ability to vocalise a single word. I was speechless!
Well? He thumped the table and glared at me waiting.
Well what? I stammered, I was still rump slapping in my head and it was about to explode!
Well what are we going to do about the predicament you have created between us? Do I spank you today or will you wait two weeks and be spanked even harder then? Or should I spank you today and in two weeks also?
Spank me? TODAY? NO! My bottom is red raw Mr Wilson. My bottom was clenching and throbbing and I thought I might have a panic attack.
I don’t see how the silly slapping you did today could cause that, you do have a tendency to exaggerate these things. I’ll thank you to bend over and show me this red arse you keep on about and I’ll make my own mind up as to when this spanking will take place.
Great, once he saw my sore bruised bottom he was going to leave it and spank me in two weeks! I could just skip my own punishment regime next week so that I had time for my bottom to recover. As I said earlier, all thoughts for my dignity were long gone and I dutifully stood up and turned my bottom to face him, I hiked up my dress to show him the damage I had wrought on myself.
He exploded in temper! WHERE ARE YOUR KNICKERS WOMAN? He yelled at me! Spittle flew out of his mouth and landed on my bottom and I turned completely startled at the change in his demeanor. He was roaring with anger!
I … I … Didn’t have time to put them on before I answered the door to you…I didn’t think…
I never got to say another word. I suddenly found myself upended and over his knee being held round the waist in a vice grip, my free arm caught and held in the centre of my back pinned down by his big arm. He lifted his hand and brought it down THWACK right in the middle of my bottom! OMG! The pain! It exploded and I screamed and tried to kick out and wriggle out of his grip, but he quickly got into a steady spanking rhythm that tore through my numbed bottom and set it on fire, he spanked my thighs, he spanked my inner thighs with short sharp slaps when I kicked out, I learned quickly to keep my legs together, he spanked and spanked and spanked and spanked for what seemed like hours but was only actually about 30 minutes. I was wailing, crying, sobbing, hiccuping and I think I might have actually wet myself but I’m not sure. If I did it went all over his trousers so it serves him right!
Quite suddenly I was deposited on my feet and he bent me over the table, I heard the whoosh of his belt as it slid from his loop holes.
Throughout the last half hour he hadn’t said a single word, just walloped my backside black and blue, but when he took that belt out, he took a moment to savour his handy work before he lifted the leather strap and brought it clean across both cheeks, I was blessedly numb but I still felt it bite into my traumatised skin. He delivered six strokes with the belt before he was satisfied that I had been punished enough. I think that might have been because I screamed the house down! I may have burst his ear drums!
‘Stand up straight woman.’ He demanded.
I stood up shakily, crying and sniffling, he grabbed me by the arm and slapped my arse hard a further six times catching my thighs as well.
‘Now you’ve had a tanning young lady. Now you can say you’ve had some punishment, proper punishment and I will be back in two weeks to do the whole thing again but for twice as long as I have an appointment today and I can’t be late. You will make sure you present yourself to me at 1pm Friday in two weeks when I knock and you will wear what your wearing today and you will be wearing knickers next time. Do I make myself clear?’
I nodded my head in mute agreement as he slid his belt back through the loop holes. He strode to the kitchen door and then turned to look at me, ‘you are a very silly woman Ms Strong, you should never invite a man into your house, whatever the reason. You need to be grateful it was me and not someone who would abuse you! I shall be back in two weeks to finish off your punishment and then you shall have to find yourself a new window cleaner as I will not be coming around again, I’m very disappointed in you. I thought you were a nice lady. I was mistaken.’
Fuck him and all who sail in him! I was never going to have another spanking as long as I lived, I had learned my lesson well and he was going to be bitterly disappointed because I just wouldn’t be here when he called around in two weeks time. I would put the house up for sale and move to a different country. He could tell who the hell he wanted then because they would never see me again!
None of my little heartfelt tirade came to anything and within three days my bruised bottom was beginning to be the gift that kept on giving as the throbbing was like sitting on a permanently switched on vibrator. I had so many mind melting orgasms for the rest of that week that I vowed I would be ready and waiting in just over a week’s time for part two of my punishment!
to be continued…
All images courtesy of the internet.
6 thoughts on “What a walloping!”
I forget to breathe when I read you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
What a lovely thing to say, thank you 😀
LikeLiked by 2 people
Oh.my.goodness. You’ve got to tell me this is fiction, my friend! If not, I have hired the wrong window washers!!!
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’ve been hiring the wrong window cleaners Nora, 😛
LikeLiked by 2 people
Yes, apparently I have been!!!