A Deal's a Deal

Twenty pounds

and two canings

That's the cost of returning items to Ralph Lauren after Christmas, or at least it's the cost to me. I've paid the twenty quid and been caned once, one still to go if he remembers......but I got my returns sorted, didn't have to drive up the M6, which I hate, and (I think) almost persuaded my husband on the drive back that we should take a winter break.

The deal was made after a couple of glasses of wine (I'd have negotiated out of the twenty quid in favour of a third caning if I'd been thinking clearly:)) and it came about after my pre-xmas trip to Chester and the designer outlet at Cheshire Oaks. I bought quite a lot of stuff, amongst it a RL jacket for myself and a Polo sweater for P as a Christmas present. I was delighted with the jacket until a couple of days after buying it my son showed me some Barbours online which looked much nicer and he gets discount. I sent for one and it was brilliant, much better all round than the RL, sorry RL. Then the sweater I gave P on Christmas day had a tiny snag on the front which I hadn't noticed in store and he said didn't matter but I said no way. 

So I said we need to go back, notice we not I. P said it was hardly worth a trip, the jacket looked good so why not keep it and use it, and as for the sweater why not take it into Bham next time I go and swap it for a snag free one. I told him that couldn't be done, the outlet store goods aren't interchangeable with high street stores, he said I could sweet talk a sales assistant into doing it but I assured him it wouldn't work. He wasn't convinced. Then I told him how much the RL had cost and that changed his perspective, he said he thought I'd told him it was cheap at the outlet and I said I did and it was and it was a very good deal but I wouldn't feel happy keeping it now I'd got the Barbour. He said he should think not and that's when he agreed to drive up there with me but he said I had to pay the petrol about 30 pounds and buy lunch. I reminded him there was an item of his to be exchanged too so he said OK reduce the petrol cost and take a caning instead, this was all light hearted banter you understand. I must have agreed too quickly and with poorly concealed enthusiasm because he followed up with 'Make that two canings now that I know how much you spent on the jacket'. I said is that the final offer and he said yes, and that was it we shook hands on it.

  

On Saturday morning I was up bright and early, before P for a change, I put a crisp twenty under his wallet so that he couldn't miss it. He noticed it right away when he came downstairs and said he liked that, a woman of her word. Then he got himself a mug of coffee and said if we set off early we could stop off in Chester, he didn't think the outlet stores open before 10am anyway so I agreed, then he told me I should accompany him upstairs, he had a little job to do before we left, he wanted me to know he kept his word too. I guessed what the little job was and said didn't he want to sit and drink his coffee and it would make us late and what about the drive it would be uncomfortable. He just said it wouldn't be uncomfortable for him and smirked.

In the bedroom he told me to stand by the bed and take my jeans down. 

I heard him take another slurp of coffee then the wardrobe door slid open, I presumed he'd put a cane in there.

"Take your knickers down too," he said as he came and stood at my left side, "and bend over with your hands flat on the duvet."

I closed my eyes and scrunched the duvet with my hands, I hadn't expected it and didn't really want it. The stroke seemed to take ages coming and I thought he must be drinking his coffee or something and I made to get up, I was going to suggest perhaps he kept his word some other time. Then I heard the swish and my husband's cane bit ferociously into my bottom causing me to gasp out loud then 'Ooooouw P that was hard' as I turned my head towards him intending to ask him to please be lenient. Unfortunately another stroke landed before I could make my plea and I squealed 

and thudded my feet on the floor stamping from side to side.

"Keep still stop making such a fuss, only another four," said my husband, "a deal's a deal." 

I took the next four strokes better, they were lighter then the first two but still left my backside raging. Then my husband's hand patted my bum and he told me to pull up my knickers and jeans and we'd get going. He pecked me on my cheek as I stood up and then he was off downstairs. Ten minutes later we were heading for the M6, me a bit wriggly but that eased off after half an hour or so and before we reached Chester I'd started to feel a bit horny. I really hadn't wanted to be caned but the afterglow in my bum and the prospect of a shopping expedition with my caner had set me up nicely. We had an enjoyable day, or part day actually, and on the way back I started talking about holidays and P didn't change the subject for a change, in fact when I told him about the discounts some of the travel firms were offering on low season breaks he said they sounded interesting and I should send him a few links. Whoopee.

I don't know if or when I'll get the other caning, I won't remind him. But if I do get it, if it's the same as that one Saturday morning, and if I'm in the mood, I think I might like it because although I made a fuss it wasn't really too severe and not too long either, just about right.

Have a good week.

Ronnie

xx

Let me know if the second or fourth picture belongs to you.