Well it may have been the stuff they serve in Molly Malone's that did it actually, or perhaps my husband was right when he admonished me the morning after and told me I had myself to blame entirely. You can, after all, lead a horse to water but you can't make it drink.
Molly's is in Helsinki, I know the name appears outside bars in lots of other towns and cities worldwide too, but the one that did for me was in Helsinki and it was on Monday evening, the second day of my 'holiday' trip. I'd had a perfectly pleasant if slightly boring day since my morning spanking and lunch; I'd done the harbour, shopped a bit and bought one or two unusual gifts and then killed time in the hotel waiting for P and Stefan to finish persuading their audience of graduates that a year in the UK would be good for them. They were late finishing, it was nearly 6pm when P returned to the hotel. Stefan had hopped on a train to Kerava, a suburb where he lives, he was coming back at 8.30pm and we were going to Molly's....
amongst other places. I'd thought we were going to eat in the hotel but P mentioned an Argentine steak restaurant he'd walked past and said maybe we should try it. I agreed, I'd seen enough of the hotel so we both showered and off we went and, on reflection, perhaps that was where my downfall began. With Brazilian beer and a good Malbec which P thought was too expensive (all wine's expensive in Finland) but was nevertheless lovely and I drank more than my share.
Stefan joined us at the appointed time, we'd finished our meal and we left and Stefan said he's show us a couple of new bars, no point going to Molly's till about 10pm when it got busier. You can see where this is going can't you, I mean Stefan's a big bloke and can hold his drink, P's not sluggish when the beer's good either. I was the weak link but I pretty much kept up with the boys until they went onto Guinness which is too heavy for me especially after eating so I drank wine by the glass when we got to Molly's, accepting a helpful barman's recommendation to trade up to a nicer wine which I saw raised P's eyebrow but he wouldn't say anything in front of Stefan. So we had a nice evening and I got a tiny bit tipsy and was asking Finnish people if they were Irish and telling them all about Dublin and I'm sure they were enjoying themselves as much as I was, it was only my husband who seemed to think I might be making too many new friends and getting a tad loud. When we left the bar and the cold fresh air hit me I nearly tripped over and grabbed onto Stefan's arm which is like a tree branch and just said Oops and giggled, I thought we were all in good spirits. Stefan left us at the hotel. I leaned on P's shoulder in the lift but he told me to stand up straight, I remember all that so I couldn't have been tipsy could I. And I remember cuddling up to P in bed but him turning over saying we had an early start next day.
Next morning I heard P in the shower, I didn't know what time it was but there was no daylight showing through the window blinds, my throat was dry and I gulped some water from a plastic bottle and turned over to doze. Then the light from the bathroom half lit the bedroom and I heard P come out and the kettle switch clicked on, the funny thing was I could still hear the shower running quite loud. I mumbled yes please, tea for me and snuggled further into the duvet but my husband came around to my side of the bed and sat heavily beside me, pushing the duvet off and dragging me across his knees. He told me I'd embarrassed him and myself last night (I hadn't been embarrassed at all), and Stefan too, and probably several regulars in Molly Malones, we wouldn't be able to go there again, then as if he realised that was a stupid thing to say he said well Stefan wouldn't anyway. And then he started spanking me, not with his hand, it was splatty and it stung like hell.
He pulled my knickers down to my thighs after a few strokes and I reached back to pull them up but he slapped my hand then held it
and told me to keep still. I told him I didn't see why the fuck I should keep still so his right leg clamped across my thighs and locked them in place while he thrashed my bare bottom. The shower was still running and I told him but he said he knew and he just kept spanking me, he told me it was on cold and I'd be turning it off soon enough and I might like it on cold after he'd dealt with me. I wanted to kick and scream and couldn't because I was too strongly held and the noise was bad enough already and I buried my head in the pillow and made uuuurrrgghhhhhh noises from my mouth and nose while my legs tried to escape and couldn't. The only movement possible back there being from my knees down which were flipping and I suppose from my bottom which had a few inches of left and right and up and down movement which was being exercised vigorously, and in any other circumstances probably would have seemed lewd.
It wasn't fair but then real spankings never are at the time. Fair or not, a predictable process takes place, starting with denial, then resistance, then acceptance because you have no choice, then pleading and capitulation with admonishment interspersed along the way. More or less like that, for me anyway, and they don't generally end until my husband knows he's completely spanked any fight out of me which is easy to recognise because I go limp, like animals do when they roll over. I still get spanked after that point but it doesn't normally last long and on this occasion it was shortened by the bedroom starting to fill with steam; the kettle's cut off switch wasn't working:) P got up to attend to it, telling me to go and shower, it was 7.15 am and he wanted to be down for breakfast by 7.45 am.
He'd left his spanking implement on the duvet, it was a wooden ruler with TEACH ME A LESSON on it,
I recognised it of course I'd bought it ages ago from Coco de Mer in London, I made a mental note to put it away before we went for breakfast, no point letting the maids know. I didn't ask him why he'd brought it with him, I didn't feel like talking. As I went into the bathroom he asked me if I wanted a cup of tea, I didn't answer and he followed me to the door and repeated the question, I mumbled sullenly yes....then added please. He told me I'd better come out of the shower with a better attitude or I'd be across his knee again. The shower stung my bottom a lot, I was trying to think back whether I'd been more tipsy than I thought, whether I'd deserved it or not, I didn't think so but I emerged from the bathroom with the best I could manage of a smile on my face and thanked him for the cup of tea which was waiting for me and said brightly I'd only be ten mins drying my hair, neither of us mentioned the spanking.
Breakfast was quiet as was our 30 minute train ride to Kerava, in fact most of the rest of the day was politely cool between us, only starting to thaw towards late afternoon. In the evening we were on our own, P said we'd eat in the harbour there are lots of nice restaurant there, it wasn't too busy being a Tuesday and we got a window table. The thaw had continued and I was feeling positively melty by now, I put my hand on my husband's knee and told him I was sorry about last night. He said it was ok, no harm done.
I thought well if it was ok and there was no harm done why bloody well spank me like that then. But I didn't say it:)
Ronnie
xx
