Bonfire Night

I forgot to tell you, didn't I, I got spanked on Friday, Bonfire Night. Well twice actually, although as I didn't get to pull my jeans up in between I suppose it could be treated as one. Not a sexy spanking either, even though certain feelings did bubble up a while later. It started as a firm rebuff against certain manipulations on my part and finished as a humdinger for not keeping my underwear ship shape (and perhaps I was a bit lippy when he admonished me about the underwear).

For readers not familiar with UK traditions, Nov 5th is an annual celebration when people gather around bonfires and set off fireworks, accompanied by outdoor eating and drinking. Friday was an awful evening for outdoor celebrations, it was wet and windy but in spite of it millions of stoic families braved the elements, our son was off to a country pub hog roast with friends, we were staying in. Opportunity, thought I.

From mid afternoon I'd been dropping un subtle hints about the evening, the rain and I hoped it wouldn't kill the celebrations and did P think our son and friends would cancel because of the weather and did P remember what happened last time we experienced considerable rain (it was a downpour in Portugal during which I got thoroughly spanked), and brushing against my husband as he tried to work at his desk, talking more than I needed to and generally irritating him. We got home, I learned our son was still going out and made sure P was aware, fireworks were already starting to light the sky (families with young kids start early), we had a simple dinner which I helped prepare and which P could have done in half the time without me faffing around him. After dinner I said it was too early to watch a movie, what did P fancy doing. He told me he had something he needed to do and my face dropped, I thought he had unfinished work or calls to make.

Then he told me to come with him upstairs, he took me into our little spare room office, not the bedroom which I had been hoping for, pulled the chair out from the desk and had me stand at his side.

''All afternoon you've been touching, interrupting, hinting''... he was undoing the thin patent belt on my black jeans..... ''that you need some attention''... he was pulling my jeans down....''and you're going to get more attention than you bargained for because you've been a pain in the arse frankly''....my jeans were at my knees now exposing my hold-ups, I know its a bit obvious, who wears hold-ups under jeans except sluts who need spanking....''and I've told you before about being manipulative''.....his left hand pulled my upper arm and his right hand pushed my bottom and I was across his knee staring at the carpet....''haven't I?''

''Haven't I?!'' He bellowed because I hadn't answered. ''Yes,'' was my meek reply.

Then my knickers were pulled down and he started spanking. Hard.

The rain rattled against the window and fireworks crackled and boomed sporadically and covered the sounds of the spanking, P took full advantage and spanked me until I told him I was sorry. Several times. Then he paused, he didn't tell me to get up, I thought his hand would wander between my legs any second but it didn't. Instead I felt his fingers probing the tops on my stockings. ''There's a hole in these, why?'' He said. ''To put my bloody leg in.'' I replied. He didn't laugh, he made me stand and look down and to the rear where the hole was evident.

He told me he didn't like scruffy underwear, it reflected badly on the owner, he said. Unacceptable. And he guided me back across his knee, me making the futile point that I hadn't noticed the hole and they were my underwear anyway and I could wear them anyway I wanted etc etc, only to be drowned out by renewed more vigorous spanking. I thought about all those poor 'Guy Fawkes' who were having bonfires lit beneath them, I was getting my own version, indoors, and in private. It didn't stop until I'd struggled, squirmed and made sufficient noise to satisfy my husband that his wife realised the error of her ways. He let me up and ordered me to pull my knickers and jeans up and make sure to sort my underwear out over the weekend or I'd be back over his knee. Then off he went downstairs, job done, at least as far as he was concerned.

I joined him later, parked myself next to him on the sofa with a smarting bum and we watched some movie with Cameron Diaz which P snoozed on and off to but I enjoyed. After the movie I thought he was asleep but he put his hand on my thigh, didn't say anything as his fingers traced the contours of the elasticated tops of the hold-ups under my jeans then stroked their way further up, I nuzzled into him and purred as I placed my own hand between his legs and found he was extremely awake. I was looking forward to some hanky panky on the sofa when headlights flashed outside and I heard car doors shutting, our son had returned early with a couple of friends, rained off. A bit of a dampener for me too, you could say:)

Out in Birmingham today so catch up with you all later or tomorrow.

Ronnie

xx