Stropped but not stroppy

No, definitely not stroppy, not after becoming acquainted with our (my husband's actually - he refers to it as 'his' now) new razor strop. I apparently had been stroppy before, while we were at the shops and during lunch which consisted of a roll eaten on the hoof against my wishes. Just because P didn't want anything at all and so refused go in anywhere.

I didn't get the shopping I wanted either so that made matters worse. And he wouldn't take me into Chester, only a stone's throw from Manchester where we'd stayed overnight. He said the presentation we'd attended at the Macdonalds  (the hotel not the burgers) had been a waste of time, no point wasting even more time. Unreasonable. I mean he'd booked it, it was for him not me, I was a hanger-on, hanging on for the shopping which hadn't been promised but was expected. So we left Manchester, me with only a tiny bag and a crap lunch and made for the M6, me in a surly mood.

Half way down the motorway I still wasn't answering properly or volunteering conversation. We got to the Stafford turn-off and P asked me if I wanted to go there. I told him men didn't understand at all about shopping, why would I go to Stafford when I could have been at Cheshire Oaks. I remained moody. Then he told me he would deal with me when we got home, I was acting childishly he said. I resisted the temptation to fire something back.

Ten minutes from home I started talking, pleasantly, to lighten the atmosphere. He noticed and told me it wouldn't change anything. I explained I'd just felt a bit let down and was grumpy because I hadn't got what I wanted, I suppose hadn't go my own way really. I said I was sorry, he told me I would be.

We got in, I went to put our stuff away but he told me to do it later and to follow him up to the office. "I know how to deal with bad tempered girls," he said as he led the way up the stairs. I knew he did and I knew how and while the tone of his voice and authoritative manner excited me, I felt butterflies because I knew I'd been a bit of a bitch earlier and I sensed this wasn't likely to be one of those sexy little spankings but more likely the cane which he keeps in the office. I was wrong.    

In the office he told me to close the door and un-belt my jeans, take them down to my thighs and kneel on the seat of the futon, bending over the back and touching the wall. As I was doing it he removed the razor strop from its brass hook next to his desk and uncoupled the business end so the leather separated from the linen. I said "Oh no, P, please not with that." I'd been expecting it to be used ever since it arrived but not in these circumstances. Funny how you get things fixed in your mind. "Perhaps you should cane me, I mean that hasn't been tested." What sort of idiot was I, asking for the cane. Lol.

Anyway I got my first taste of the razor strop. P pulled my knickers down to join my jeans and I got it from slightly above and the side so it impacted at a diagonal and it didn't seem too hard at first but then I realised P was getting the measure of it. After a few strokes across each buttock which made me squirm, he moved position and bent a little lower so that the strop could land almost horizontally against both buttocks with much more force and an almighty THWACK! I don't know if it was the thwack or the fierce sting which shocked me the most but I screamed out and reached my hands back. "Hands on the wall," my husband barked. "Now!"

I did as I was ordered and received several more strokes which made me OUWWWWW!! and PLEEEEASE NO! and stretch up the wall to try and embed my bottom into the soft seat back to escape the ferocity. It didn't work. P stopped but only to switch sides so that the strop could even up from right to left. It didn't hurt so much from that side because P's right handed and couldn't control it as easily. He realised then straighted up and started spanking diagonally again, more confident strokes which made me howl. He stopped after about 20 or so strokes, neither of us was keeping check, and stood back surveying his work. He told me I was very lucky he hadn't had time to gain more experience or I'd have got it a lot harder. He said it had wrapped a bit around my right cheek and asked me how I felt. "I can't feel where it's wrapped," I said. "It just feels burning hot all over." I had my best post petulance voice on and I asked if I could put my hands there now, it hurt so much. He stepped forward and laid the palm of his hand on each side, declaring it was 'warm enough for this occasion'.

P told me I could get up and to pull my knickers and jeans up, no rubbing, and to go and make us both a cup of tea. He said he hoped there would be no more bad temper from me or I knew what I'd get. There wasn't but it wasn't long before I was invaded by horniness and almost wished there had been. On the evening, because he hadn't eaten lunch and maybe because he wanted to please me, he asked if I fancied having a bite to eat in town, something we hardly ever do on a Sunday night. It was lovely.

I think I liked the strop, it covers more ground than the belt and stings more than the leatherthorn but less than a cane, or at least in a different way. P said he will use it a lot harder but he'll have me lie flat next time he uses it. I asked when will that be but he just smiled and said, "Next time you deserve it." 

A big thank you to my dear friend for the new addition to our his toy box.

Happy Valentine's Day

Whatever you're doing - have a wonderful day/evening.

Ronnie

xx    

Let me know if the picture is yours.