Sod working Saturdays

I can sympathise with our junior doctors who have to work weekends, adding to their already too long hours. I'm not sure about it being unsafe and I don't think they're all underpaid but I do understand their reluctance to throw in the towel and just accept, like shop workers and others have gradually had to, that weekends are no longer 'special'.

You see I used to work Saturdays and Sundays many years ago, in the hospitality business, so do know what it's like but when I got out of the sharp end of that business I stopped doing it. Now I must admit that whilst I do deal with business at any old time nowadays, I'm no longer governed by a timetable and I've got into the habit of keeping weekends essentially free so that I can shop with bigger crowds and stand in longer checkout queues like other people do:)

When P told me I had to work last Saturday I wasn't best pleased, not only because my husband wouldn't do me just a teeny favour and take a delivery for me but because my weekend routine was to be interrupted. Even the threat of getting spanked hadn't really spiced up the prospect because it hadn't been made with much conviction.

So in I went, I thought might as well make the best of it. I made a coffee for P and took a mug of tea upstairs to my little office storeroom, which was admittedly untidy with part opened cartons all over the place and no obvious space for my new stock to be stacked. I'd only done half an hour when P buzzed me to tell me my carrier was outside, he wanted me to come down and let him in, he could have done it just as easily. Anyway I let the guy in, didn't go outside to help him take the boxes off his truck because it was raining, offered him a hot drink which he didn't want, signed for the number of packages unopened and that was it. Two trips on our little elevator to get them upstairs then one at a time into the office for checking and stacking. P came up after a while, I was on my second box, he looked around the office and asked me why I wasn't going to put existing stock in some sort of order first. Bloody cheek, I told him I had but he said it didn't look like it and if I just crammed the new stuff in wherever, it would just make it harder to find stuff later, which was OK if it was me but what about if it was Claire trying to find something.

He stayed and 'helped' me, god it was boring, I've got a little old radio up there and I put that on, I went and made another drink because when P starts doing something it's better to let him get on with it but the rest of the building was silent, no Gail in reception to chat with, no-one to tittle tattle with in the corridor, there really isn't room for two people to be opening cartons in the space we have there so my presence was useless really and I said I might as well go home. He wouldn't have any of that, he said it was my responsibility, he was just showing me the best way and he was going back down again because he had calls to make. It was after 1.00 and I still hadn't finished when P came upstairs again to see how I was getting on and to tell me he was off now, he'd done all he had to and he'd see me later. Well no chance, I didn't want to be left there on my own and have to set the alarm too, I hate doing that in case something goes wrong. I told him and he relented and helped break up some empty cartons and take them down to the skip then said we could call it a day. We, by which he meant me, could finish off in the week.

I played my face somewhat, I mean I know he's right about working in an orderly fashion but I do have my own ways and they do work, but it didn't get me spanked and actually I didn't want it to because I didn't feel horny or sassy or anything really other than bored and a bit put out at having wasted, as I saw it, a Saturday morning.

We went home because P wanted to get a coat as it was still showering, he said we'd go into town but I said no, no point it was too late now. He said that was ridiculous the stores were open until whatever time. I maintained no, it had thrown my day out and I didn't want to go now. He reminded me I had something to take back to one of the shoe stores and also a collection to pick up, I shrugged and said it could wait.

He lost patience with me at that point, he could sense my arsey attitude and he frog marched me across to the sofa. I told him he didn't need to fucking well spank me I hadn't done anything wrong and it was up to me if I went into town or not. It didn't make any difference, he had me across his knee protesting and telling him not to dare spank me, I wasn't joking and to get his bloody hands off me now! I was still protesting, kicking too, as he undid my jeans and pulled them down and started spanking me. I kicked and struggled and dug my nails into his ankle and he spanked me harder and raised his voice threatening to take my knickers down and make sure I couldn't sit down for the rest of the weekend if I didn't stop kicking. I was getting spanked whatever happened, it was up to me how hard it was and he could make it very hard indeed. I stopped gouging his flesh and kicking but I didn't stop shouting for him to let me go.

Ten minutes later I was on my feet, my jeans pulled hastily up, backside burning but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing me rub it and there weren't any tears in my eyes although I know my face was flushed because I could feel it hot. He told me to pull myself together and no more nonsense.

Five minutes later we were driving into town.

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie

xx