Just Because

You know on Monday I posted the little snippet I found in the Sunday Times Style magazine. Nothing about spanking, not involving me anyway, and that's because I hadn't been spanked since whenever, in fact I think I was beginning to forget what it felt like, well that's what I was going to tell P. But in the end I didn't need to.

I had been good, you see, right over the Easter weekend. No really, I had been genuinely good. I had several opportunities to be otherwise but I just didn't take them. No tantrums, no sulks, no contriving to get spanked, I was even kind to his mother when she graced us with her company Sunday evening and I volunteered to take her shopping Monday morning, which I duly did.

Yet still there I was over P''s lap Monday afternoon getting a spanking, my first of the day. He'd called me in from the garden where I'd been tidying some borders.

'I was just watching you,' he said, 'doing all that bending and stretching and thinking to myself what a nice spankable arse you've got.'

Then he took me by the upper arm, through to the lounge, sat on the sofa and hauled me across his thighs which were bare as it happens because the weather was lovely and he had shorts on. Then he spanked me. He didn't take my trousers down, they were thin anyway, the light summer cotton type I think they came from Gap. But he spanked hard and I felt the blood rushing to my nether region as well as my face and it was delightful. And I was able to shout a bit because our son had gone into town and our neighbours were away for the weekend. Then after he'd spanked me he told me to get up and go on back to my borders, he'd be out later after he'd finished some mail. The nerve of the man! And I didn't even ask at any point why he was spanking me. I mean I had been a good girl.

I did go back to my borders but, first, I popped upstairs and removed my knickers. Yes you heard me correctly, well It was hot! I was too. After about half an hour P came out with two mugs of tea and settled into a garden chair. He had a newspaper with him but he didn't read it, he was watching me instead, I could feel his eyes on me as I exaggerated every little bend and stretch wondering if he'd notice that the bottom he'd just spanked was now sans knickers. He did and I heard the wicker chair creek and knew he was getting up, I didn't look round, just carried on weeding my weed-free soil and bending my backside lasciviously towards him. Then I felt his hand on me, you can imagine where. 'What sort of naughty girl comes out to tidy up her garden without any knickers on? What would the neighbours think? I think you'd better come inside.' It didn't need an answer and I didn't need telling twice, although I gulped when P stopped to borrow a garden cane from a plant pot, wiping the damp soil on the leg of his shorts. His intention was plain and I felt butterflies but I mean, I had been a naughty girl this time.

I was shortly staring at the same patch of carpet I'd been studying less than an hour earlier. I still had my trousers on but then I felt P's hands at the waistband, then the button, then the zip and then they were down to my thighs and I let out a whimper and shuddered at the same time. Then the little telltale swish which you're just about aware of before the sting of the cane sets your bottom alight. Then, on this occasion anyway, hardly time to gasp or cry before the next stroke and the next. Six in all.

'Ooh god, P, you caned my bottom, why did you do that?' I asked trying to sound shocked.

'I told you, because you were naughty. And just because I wanted to. And now there's something else I want to do.'

And he did, after bending me over the arm of the sofa with my trousers at my knees and I loved it and made so much noise it frightened me. And I'm sure one day I'll die of a heat attack from such an impromptu session. And I'm sure it won't be a bad way to go.

Afterwards he told me put my knickers back on, make myself respectable on and come and sit outside. When I joined him he'd made two fresh mugs of tea, he's so thoughtful.

Ronnie

xx