Last week Abel undertook a frightening, but necessary task: he decided to count and sort our implements. It was frightening because there were piles of spanking toys crammed into every box and drawer in our bedroom and study; it was necessary for the same reason.
With our toys sorted into little heaps on the floor, we did an inventory, and tidied them into suitable boxes, umbrella stands and drawers, and were about to breather the sigh of relief when Abel went under the bed for something else and emerged with an uncounted strap.
“Trying to hide it?” he thundered, with a glint of a smile behind his eyes. “Bend over!”
This happened to be a fairly light strap that I really like, so I leaned over the foot of the bed with not so much trepidation as fond anticipation.
Abel began my licking with some detectable glee. “Do you know how many you’re getting?” he asked.
“Ow! Ouch! No?”
“Eighteen. One for every ten implements we own.”
I ruefully braced for my proportional comeuppance, and suffered it with only minimal carrying-on and hardly any giggles at all.
I’m glad we found that strap, and not, say, a ginormous wooden paddle or something…
It was a good job for you that a tithe is only one in ten – hence the 18 strokes for our 180 implements 😉
@ Abel, you’re making this a “religious” experience, are you? (LOL)
I love the strap myself too. For me the harder the better. I love the straps on the covers of THE SPANKING WRITERS VOLUMES 1 & 2. I have very recently rediscovered the joys of receiving hand strapping. It takes me right back to my hand strapping at Intermediate School when I was 12 years old – six of the best. I was rather proud of my red swollen puffy stinging hands. Most hand strapping is really good but the last time really hurt. I have another one coming up over the next couple of days.