All this talk of people being suspended from school is detrimental to the state of my bottom.On Friday Abel was working in a customer’s office all morning, while I stayed in the hotel, typing away on my own writing assignment. He called me to make a lunch date, and then said, “Do you think Daddy had a call from school to say his daughter had been suspended? So he has to leave work early?”
My husband makes a really frightening Daddy. I was already wincing in sympathy with the suspended girl, but of course I agreed.
And then promptly forgot all about it as I got back to work.
The reminder of my imminent fate came as a breaking wave as I heard the door lock buzz open. Yikes, I’m in trouble! squeaked a little voice inside my head. It didn’t make a slightest bit of difference that we were playing; when Abel – Daddy – walked into the room, a thunderous glare on his stony face, my heart was doing somersaults.
“I’m so sorry!” I blurted out before he could say a word.
But ‘sorry’ wasn’t good enough, of course.
A stern interrogation followed. Thinking on the hoof, I admitted to having been rude to my teacher, screaming at her in the middle of the lesson. She sent me straight to the Headmaster, who was scandalised enough to send me home.
“Has he caned you?” Daddy asked.
Small voice: “No…”
“I see. He must have left it for me to do.”
My hands crept behind, as though I could hope to protect my bottom this way. “No, Daddy, he didn’t say anything about that!”
“I don’t need to take my cue from him. Take down your trousers.”
I unbuckled my belt; pushed down my jeans together with my knickers. He grabbed me by the upper arm and, sitting down on the bed, drew me over his lap. I heard myself give a high whine, like a frightened animal.
Smacks began to fall right away, shockingly loud in the big hotel room. I held on to the leg of his work trousers. Abel’s hand is a fearsome implement: some days I would rather take the cane than endure a hand-spanking from him. This time he wasn’t hard enough to make me levitate to the ceiling, but each smack felt like he was touching a hot iron to my bum. I yelped and apologised, and worked hard not to struggle too much, and very nearly succeeded.
“Get up,” he said finally, and I scrambled to my feet. “Sit at the desk and write a letter of apology to the teacher you insulted and to the Headmaster. Now.”
I shuffled to the desk, but about half-way there I heard a giggle behind me, and that’s when I knew Abel was finally back. I whipped around and bounced straight into his arms, and the fire in my bottom was suddenly a good thing.
Surely this entry deserves place of pride in the sequel to your book!
BTW what is it that makes Abel’s hand such a fierce implement, even worse than the cane? Has he got a particular technique we should know about, or a paddle of a hand, or both?
I don’t really know, Rob. It might be that he’s particularly strong, or it might be that I’m a wimp
Yeah this totaly has to go in the book sequel- Abel sounds bloody scary somtimes!
That giggle must have been a relief! Very hot scene, sometimes the super simple ones are just the best.
Haron,
You are so lucky! And that was such a hot scene. And although I have not yet had a caning (although I printed Abel’s tips just to be helpful if that fateful day ever arises), there have been a couple of times that I thought that I would rather take every other implement we have over his hand, it sometimes smacks down so much. Probably not as many times as Abel is capable of, mind you. The nice part of a hand is that it generally does a much better job of soothing and rubbing away the ouchies after.
Aaaawwww! That’s so sweet!
Haron, loved the giggle and your leap into Abel’s arms, now thats how a scene should end.
A well practised hand can indeed a fearsome toy, I suspect that Abel’s hand is all of that.
Warm hugs,
Paul.
What a lovely little scene, I wonder what the people in the next door room thought!
I agree with everyone else about the power of a hand spanking, my man has a fearsome spank too, never ceases to amaze me the way he always looks a little sorry for himself afterwards as he rubs his sore hand, never ceases to amaze me the way I feel sorry for him too and want to help rub him better even while my own backside is on fire! It must be love
Sarah- Love, or that weird attachment thing where people become obsessed by their kidnapper…(!) I think it’s called Stockholm Syndrome!
Jeans?
You must have missed out the bit where Daddy had to take extra measures to deal with finding his girl out of uniform during school hours.
But even so; it’s a very nicely imagined (perhaps not quite the right word) and written scene. Just the thing for a chilly Monday evening.
Oh, I’m so envious!
Mm–mmm. Daddy spanks are some of the best, aren’t they?
“some days I would rather take the cane than endure a hand-spanking from him”…
Wow!! Really???