I got paddled last night for no other reason than to try out a new implement Abel bought for us a few weeks ago.*
It’s an enormous tyre paddle.
More specifically, it’s a large piece of tyre rubber (complete with tracks) on a pretty metal handle. It looks very industrial, something out of a steampunk novel, or perhaps a post-apocalyptic movie. In fact, if Judge Dredd dispatched judicial paddlings, this would be exactly the sort of implement that would be used to deliver them.
A guy who makes these things blogs over on Burning Rubber.
Anyway, we felt like playing last night, but I was too tired to come up with a role-play, so it was going to be a good old just-because paddling with a gigantic chunk of rubber.
My impressions of this beautiful implement? It hurts like nobody’s business. With the first stroke Abel must have intended to imprint tyre tracks on my butt, because he whacked so hard I couldn’t even scream for about three seconds. He didn’t get the tracks, just some redness (as he informed me), so he decided to hit even harder. This time I screamed alright, and also danced about the room, saying nasty things about the paddle, its wielder, its maker, and the postman who’d delivered it. After this Abel lightened up – not by much – and I got the rest of my six swats with just about bearable strength.
Man… it was horrible. The burning feeling afterwards was really nice, though.
Abel spent the rest of the night being quite pensive, and in the end declaired that, perhaps, to get those tyre marks he’d have to get another of these paddles, only smaller.
Do you think this would be a good time to call a spousal veto over how our budget is spent? Or maybe I should bribe the postman?
* Yes, weeks. What can I say? We’ve been busy.