It was all down to the weather

Roll on more bad weather, I say. I mean we had daytime temperatures as low as 15C last week and our heating kicked in a couple of times (which P has now sorted) and that's ridiculous for mid August. Even the weather presenters on TV look sheepish when they try to dress their forecasts up a bit so as to sound not so gloomy. I don't know why they bother, do they think we are all idiots or does some secret arm of government insist that the broadcasting authorities tell their presenters to put a cheerful slant on things to keep the peasants from rising up:)

Anyway I digress because the weather did me a bit of good last week, well quite a lot of good actually. For one it got me an unexpected trip to Finland where I shall be spending a few days near the end of the month and for two, it got me spanked. The Finnish trip came out of the blue, our old partner there has has the use a cabin on one of the lakes north of Helsinki and invited us to join him, it will probably be the last time we go there and I'm looking forward to it. The spanking came about because I was whingeing on about the weather, it was before P mentioned the trip to me, and I was fed up of the cool damp dreary days of so called summer. We still haven't got a holiday booked either so I threw that one in for good measure.

P is actually more tolerant than me about such things, he shrugs it off and gets on with whatever he's doing regardless. Anyway, tolerant of the weather he may be but tolerant of my frequent moaning he is not and he spanked me after he'd told me a few times to live with it and make the best of it and it didn't stop us doing anything etcetera etcetera...and I still went on later the same day. He stood and took a deep breath, rested his hands on his hips in resigned sort of way and just looked at me. It went so quiet I looked back wondering why he hadn't responded.

"You know what, I'm not going to come out with any platitudes, I'm not going to say things just to try and cheer you up like you do with kids, I've had enough now. I'm going to give you a damned good spanking and give you something to really whine about and perhaps you'll give the weather..and me.. a break."

He came over and took me by the arm lifting me up from the sofa, my ipad fell on the floor, I pulled back to try and pick it up but he marched me towards the door. So he was going to take me upstairs which usually meant a longer spanking and most likely an implement involved. I hoped it wouldn't be the cane.

We entered the office and P closed the window to reduce noise escaping. He didn't cane me, he didn't even make me take my jeans down. Instead he sat on the futon and pulled me across his lap and spanked me solidly by hand for what must have been a full five minutes with the occasional pause for him to change hands. A clothed spanking doesn't hurt as much to start with but it does build up over a period and five minutes is a long time in spanking terms, especially when strong hands are administering. He berated me right the way through it, telling me I was childish, selfish, ungrateful, unreasonable and that sort of stuff and that moaning and groaning about something over which none of us had any control didn't do me or those around me any favours at all and I should try seeing a glass half full not half empty and think about how I might brighten things up for other people instead of making life a misery. That got to me and I felt really bad apart from the smarting in my backside, which was going to get a lot worse although I didn't know it. I mumbled that I was sorry, and I genuinely was, and made to get up but P put his hand on my back and held me down, saying he hadn't told me to get up.

I heard him rustling about with his free hand on the bookcase which is just about reachable from the end of the futon. Then he spoke again.

"I know you're sorry, I can tell from your voice that you mean it but that's not enough, I told you you I was going to give you a damned good spanking and I am and I'm only half finished and you'll be even more sorry by the time I'm done and maybe you'll think back on this next time you're feeling down in the dumps and try not to take everybody there with you." He sounded like he really meant it and I honestly hadn't realised how much I must have been getting on his nerves.

"I really am sorry P," I said in a clearer voice this time, "I know what you're saying is true." I was going to say more but then the THWAP came.

It was heavy but pliable and covered a large surface area and could only have been the leatherthorn paddle. My bottom was already tender and I'm sure if he'd taken my jeans and knickers down and given it to me that hard on the bare I would have yelled the place down. It was bad enough over tightly stretched thin denim but I was really on the back foot and although I wriggled a lot because it hurt so much I didn't squeal or remonstrate with him because I felt really bad and knew I deserved a good spanking. In fact at times I even consciously pushed my bottom upwards to try and let him know I knew I deserved what I was getting. I don't know how long it lasted, I think a bit less than the hand spanking.

When it was over he helped me up and had me sit next to him on the futon. My bottom was blazing as much as I could ever remember and the heat was retained by my denims. He put his arm around my shoulder and rubbed the top of my arm and in that split second I thought I was going to burst into tears, not because of the spanking but because I knew I'd been wrong. I wish I could have cried but instead I turned into him and buried my head in his chest, my hand on his thigh and said I was sorry again, several times, softly and meaningfully and we just stayed like that for a few minutes. I think a few tears might have trickled from my eyes and my nose was definitely sniffling. When he broke the quiet I wasn't ready for it and I jumped when he said he was going to make a cup of tea and did I want one. I'd been so snug I almost said no let's just stay here but instead I said, brightly, I'd do it.

"No," he said, "you should go wash your face, I'll take care of it."

I felt like clinging to him but went to the bathroom as he suggested. What an idiot I'd been, I wondered if he'd recorded the moans and groans I'd been making and played them back to me, what would I have thought of myself. It made me shudder to think. I was so happy he'd brought it home to me and the way he'd done it was perfect. Later in the day I went upstairs and slipped my jeans and knickers down in front of the bedroom mirror, my bottom was still red and I'd have a couple of bruises for sure but I was one happy reformed moaner.

On the evening I went and bought tickets to see a laser light show in our magnificent cathedral, we'll go this coming weekend. I also bought my husband a couple of pints of a guest ale in one of the town's pubs, I got them from the bar too on both occasions. I was chatty and had my hand fondling his thigh sitting at a high stool table until I realised that customers on lower seats could see me doing it. When we got home later we had sex, it was very strong, spontaneous and pure joy, before watching some late night TV with a glass of wine.

Next day he told me about the Finland trip, then said not to regard it as a holiday, he knew I still wanted some time in the sunshine and warmth of siesta Europe and he still intended to book something.

I haven't moaned once about the weather since.

Ronnie
xx