Commis Chef Spanking

It was delicious to get an unexpected spanking last weekend, the only trouble was I wanted more.

We had guests you see, and they have children, and children play and pry, innocently of course, but in our house that could mean coming across something or other which is not so innocent and might be a tad difficult to explain away as 'props for a school play' and that sort of thing. Especially as the sort of places they might encounter these items might seem a bit odd, if not to the children then certainly to their mom and dad. (Or perhaps not to their mom and dad, who knows) I'm sure you understand. I mean why does 'Uncle P' keep a cane taped under his desk, why is there a leather paddle in the one of the drawers, what's it for? How come there's horse's riding crop under the bed in the spare room?

So we pre-empted any possible embarrassment, well I did actually, by gathering up all our bits and bobs and locking them in a suitcase. P's brother joined us in the afternoon, with his son and a friend, all in all we had a house full and we had preparations to make for dinner and things were a bit chaotic. P's brother could see the problem and suggested they all went out to the park for an hour or two, he had a football in the car, they also have small boats for hire, crazy golf and other amusements. So off they went to let off some steam, leaving us to get organised. P's department, I have to admit, and he soon had the kitchen sorted, stuff blanched, trimmed, chopped, marinated, garnishes done, all the little things that might get forgotten later P likes to know they're done, then he's relaxed about turning out some great food later. He told me he'd left the cleaning down to me, he did the skilled stuff, he said, his 'commis' had to clean up after him, all great masters had apprentices, he said, and patted my backside condescendingly.

I told him that truly great masters cleaned up as they went along. No not a chance, said my husband, and furthermore they don't tolerate any lip from their commis, and he led me by the arm from the kitchen and up the stairs, he told me he was going to set me straight, warm my backside, I'd soon find out how great masters dealt with cheeky commis.

He took me into our little office but he'd forgotten all our implements were locked away, so we went to the bedroom and he pulled the suitcase down from the wardrobe top and asked me where the key was. I was sure I'd put it in a little jewellery case but it wasn't there, I told him I didn't know where it was then I must have dropped it somewhere. I'm sure he believed me but he pretended he didn't, he said I needed a very sound spanking and maybe my memory would improve. He took a slipper from my side of the bed, undid my jeans and had me across his lap on the bottom of the bed in no time at all, and he walloped me good and hard for several minutes with me initially giggling but soon struggling and genuinely ouching; rubber soled bedroom slippers pack quite a sting. He stopped abruptly,

I was a bit disappointed.

"Now go downstairs and I want that kitchen spic and span inside fifteen minutes, young lady, and while you're doing it you'd better jog your memory as to the whereabouts of that key. If I have to snap the padlock off to get into the case you won't be sitting comfortably at dinner I can assure you." Music to my ears.

"Yes, Sir, " I pouted and left the bedroom holding my bottom. I looked at my watch, fifteen minutes, eh, I reckoned I could do it quicker than that especially with the implied threat of further bottom warming.

It wasn't to be. I finished the kitchen no problem, P came in and asked me if I was going to tell him where the key was, I couldn't. Wouldn't have actually even if I'd known, I really fancied some further 'masterly' warming. Unfortunately we heard tyres on the gravel outside. P put his hand on my bottom and told me I was very lucky. I'd say I'd been unlucky, wouldn't you?

Great weekend though.

Sorry about the writing sizes, not sure why it keeps happening. Maybe it's because I'm still using old Blogger interface

Ronnie

xx

Pictures from MarQe's Study and Miss Pink.

A bet's a bet, right?

PK challenged me to a bet on who would win the football game between U.S. and the UK. The bet was that the loser gets spanked and the number of spanks would be 5 per goal but you all know that we drew 1-1 and both teams are out of the World Cup.

Now I didn't tell P about the bet until after the game, he thought it was silly to make the bet in the first place, of course I did tell him it was PK's idea not mine but didn't mention it again as PK and I hadn't agreed anything the game ending in a draw. We've since spoke and decided that to be fair we should get 5 spanks each. PK suggested to be extra fair we should each be spanked with the dogging bat as we both have one. Thanks to PK sending me one.

Photo from MarQue's Study

I wasn't quite sure how to bring it up with P (I needed him to administer), as he'd already said he thought it was a silly bet and wasn't likely to just tell me to bend over and give me 5 swats but opportunity presented itself on Wednesday because there I was OTK bright and early for my maintenance spanking, him lecturing me on this and that, god knows where he drags up all my sins from, real or imagined it matters not to me, you know how it goes. ''...Oh and don't think you'll be leaving the office early to watch the tennis,'' he was adding bits for good measure but I could tell he was winding down so I seized the moment.... "Er talking of sport," I said, still over his knee, ''do you remember the bet I had with PK about the football, well we've agreed on 5 swats with the dogging bat, I mean a bet's a bet, right?''

P wanted to know what bet so I reminded him. "Oh that silly bet," "OK as you're so honest and keen to honour your bet go and get me the dogging bat," he said with a sharp crack on my ass. I hesitated "..That's a little difficult P,'' I said, "It's still at the office, I meant to bring it home yesterday." I heard him laugh, "So you agree on terms for a bet but forget the main item." (Yes, I know what you all maybe thinking but your wrong, I honestly forgot to bring it back from the office, I actually like the dogging bat, I love the sound it makes as it slaps down on tender flesh). "Well I'll just have to improvise, wont I, now be a good girl and reach down and pass me your slipper."

Shit shit, I hate the slipper, I'd thought he might extend the use of his hand but the slipper it was. (note to self: buy a new pair at M&S this weekend with a soft sole). He gave me 5 good swats for manipulating him as he called it, then an extra five for being so forgetful!

''Now up you get and don't forget to bring that dogging bat home on the weekend because you still haven't fulfilled your bet.'' I went to say something but he cut me short, ''and I'll be adding some interest as it'll be several days later than it should have been.'' Ooh that was a bonus, I wasn't actually going to complain, I was just going to point out that I actually do honour my bets even little tiny fun ones, anyway it looks like I'm guaranteed a re-acquaintance with the dogging bat this weekend all being well and that's fine by me.

Ronnie

xx

Brandy and a slippered behind

Nothing too unusual going on here, working with 2 hats on at the moment, one my fashion director hat and the other my recruitment dogsbody hat, well that's how it feels anyway. Actually our recruitment work enquiries have increased recently but P thinks it's a temporary blip and the new business is the one for me to concentrate on, I hope he's right. Tonight we're going to see the Eagles and I'm looking forward to it, P's brother and wife are coming up from Wales to join us.

Earlier this week I posted those girls on the beach with their sandals aside them, I got a couple of people refer to slippers in response so I googled to find out if sandals are synonymous with slippers and they are, beach slippers are on loads of web pages. I also checked the trusty Oxford Concise for slipper and it's noun use is 'slip-on light footwear', its yummy verb use is 'to beat with'. So that's that sorted. When I think of slippers I usually think warm, cosy, fireside, Christmas even, but now I've got the 'to beat with' thing in my mind too. Sounds rather wicked actually.

P's brother has real flame fires in his pub, I'm just thinking now, chilly Welsh evening, pine forests, roaring fire, brandy, freshly slippered behind. Stop it Ronnie you've got work to do.

Ronnie

xx