When I was growing up, I never got the paddle. Maybe an occasional spanking when I was younger with a wooden ping pong paddle...
But never a big scary paddle...
Until a couple nights ago.
I'd had a bit of an attitude with Tom all week. Maybe I just wanted him to put his foot down and spank me. If so I got my wish. He got this long Amazon package, and I was instantly wondering. I'm usually the one who does the Amazon orders. But I knew better than to open it.
When he came home from work, I asked him.
"I'm glad you asked," he said with a smile.
I immediately smelled trouble. He went into the kitchen and opened it while I followed along. And he pulled out a paddle! A big, scary wood paddle.
I admit I was pretty shocked. I then asked the single most obvious question in history:
"What are you going to do with that?"
"Your attitude has been all wrong recently, Katie. We're going to correct that right now. Bend over the sofa."
I stammered and pleaded with him not to, but he just pointed the paddle toward the couch. I slowly walked over. I was wearing jeans and bent over the arm of the sofa, now whimpering and starting to beg him not to. I was really scared at that point.
I couldn't see him with my butt in the air and face just above the cushions, but I felt the movement.
It made the loudest sound. I jumped up, grabbed my butt, and shouted "OWWW."
"Bend back over right this minute," he said.
SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT
He gave me at least a dozen, each one horribly bad and causing me to yell out loud. It was a deep, intense pain. By the seventh or eighth swat I was screaming and really sweaty. By the time he got to the last one, I was completely hysterical.
I should have predicted what would come next, but even so I couldn't believe it when I heard the words:
"Now pull those pants down young lady."
"Please," I begged him. "I know my attitude's been terrible, I'm so sorry, but please please please no more."
But even as I said it I was pulling my jeans down. I knew resisting would only make it worse ... he never lets me get out of punishments. I had my jeans down just below my butt when he grabbed them, pulled them all the way down, and then did the same with my panties. I very slowly bent over, still crying.
He stepped back and I gritted my teeth.
SWAT SWAT SWAT
If I thought it was bad over jeans, it was sheer agony on the bare. My butt must have already been crimson, and now he was determined not to let me up until it was blistered. There was probably around ten seconds between swats, time I spent in total fear dreading the next one. I was sure I couldn't take anymore when he paddled even lower on my butt, swatting the tops of my thighs too.
It was just too much to handle. I collapsed on my knees in front of the sofa arm. He told me that that would have been the last one, but now I was getting more. I cried even harder, forcing myself to assume the position one more time, and he gave me a particularly hard one ... again targeting the base of my butt and upper legs. And then another one. I was in inconsolable hysterics.
It probably took at least a minute for me to realize he had stopped.
He let me cry and then came around and hugged me. I was a sweaty, tear-stained mess, still crying loudly. I desperately craved his comfort. He told me that from now on I was going to act right and have a good attitude and I kept on saying "yes" over and over.
I have to admit, it was very powerful discipline and really made me get my act together. Getting your butt paddled is no fun!