My Queen and I have been writing on our blog for a while, and oftentimes we’ll start a blog about a topic or event, but not have the time to complete it. And so we won’t actually publish it, and save it as a draft. Today I looked at the number of “Drafts” in our admin panel, and was shocked to see there were 42! My first thought was, “Oh sh1t, I hope I don’t get spanked for this.” But there are almost an equal number of drafts by my beautiful wife as well. Truth be told, this isn’t our “jobs” so to speak, and so we try to write and add content as often as possible.
So this posts comes from before we were video recording and/or taking pictures of our actual spankings. But it was a spanking session that did happen a few years ago. Most of this post was finished, but I needed to add images to it. So, while I don’t have images of my backside after this particular session, I’ll add images as best I can to help provide some visual flair.
Over the next month, I’m going to look through (and respectfully ask my Queen to look through) our drafts, to see if we can finish them up and get that content out there for all who want to read it. Instead of this kind of disclaimer or explanation, I might just open it with [Previous Spanking Event].
Alright, without further adieu…let me tell you about a lesson I learned…
Paying attention to details and direct orders are good for the well being of my backside. I learned this (again) the hard way the other night. It had been a few weeks since my last real good spanking from my Queen but I was feeling a little ornery and decided to tease her. She was not really in the mood to be trifled with, but I kept messing with her despite a warning or two. Then before I knew it, she had had enough. “You’re getting an attitude adjustment tonight, young man.” She sternly told me. While I knew it would not be pleasant by any means, I was still grateful that she didn’t decide on and sentence me to a full on woodshed whuppin’. But that relief was very short lived when she told me to go to our room and either get the white cane out or the wicked switch and lay it on the bed.
This was not good. The two most evil things there are, but the switch is still far worse. So I knew I would be selecting the cane.
However when I started walking down the hall to our room to do as I was told, She added, “And if you decide to take the white cane to make it easier on yourself, just know that I’ll be swinging that cane harder than I ever have before. So it might not be a downgrade from the switch like you’re thinking. In fact, it could be worse.”
Any remaining arrogance left my body as the fear in the pit of my stomach filled. That’s harsh. When she has been pushed to her limits, she can be SO good at being wicked. And now I honestly didn’t know which one to pick. As I got to our room, I went to the closet and pulled out the wicked switch. This thing is so dense and flexible, and quickly gets me crying out and bawling. It truly is the worst. Or at least the worst I’ve experienced. I then got the white cane out. It is a white Lexan cane that we call “White Lightning”, and while it is not as dense or flexible as the switch, it has welted me up something fierce and brought me to tears quickly as well. But…I’m pretty sure she hasn’t swung it as hard as she can. Which is a scary thought. 😳
So which to choose? After a brief moment, decided that I’d bite the bullet and let her decide. I thought this would be a good showing of subservience to tell her that I would like to get it with whichever implement SHE desired. Then maybe I’d get some leniency and she’d go with the cane and not be swinging for the fences with it. It was a good plan. It was the only plan I had. 🤞
So a little later that evening, she told me it was time for my attitude adjustment. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat as I got up and followed her to the Queen’s chambers. The fear in the pit of my stomach was still bad, even though I thought my plan would be somewhat helpful to my cause.
She took a few steps into the room and saw both implements on the bed. She stopped and turned to me and said, So…it appears that you want it with BOTH the cane and the switch?”
“No my Queen, I was thinking that I’d like it to be with whatever YOU wanted to spank me with.” She wasn’t pleased with my answer and sternly told me, “I gave you a direct order and you did NOT follow it. I was going to only give you 20 lashes with whatever you chose. 10 from each side. BUT…since you can’t follow directions, that tells me you want and need it with both. So you’re going to get 40 lashes instead. 20 with each!”
My heart sank and I truly felt like crying right then and there. “No my Queen, I was trying to be good.” I pleaded. “Being good by not following my directions?” she instantly replied. “No, I…” I tried to explain when she interrupted with, “Are you arguing with me right now?” I knew that continuing to plead my case was only going to add more lashes to the recently acquired higher number of lashes. It was time to shut the hell up and take it as best as I could. “I’m sorry my Queen. That is not my intent. I don’t want to argue with you.”
“Good.” she said as she picked up the white cane. “Now bend over the bed.” I walked over to the bed, took down my pants and underwear and bent over the end of it to await the forthcoming lashes.
She walked to the left side of me and I immediately felt the coolness of the cane on my butt as she measured her distance. Then she calmly stated, “I suspect that after this thrashing, you’ll do better to follow the directions I give you.” “Yes Ma’am.” I fearfully replied. And with that I heard that ominous “fwwww” sound the cane makes cutting through the air, followed by the “pap” sound when it lands. Then I felt the immediate searing pain that begins and grows in intensity. And just when your brain is realizing how bad it is hurting, the 2nd lash lands and the 3rd and so on, only the searing pain is now growing in intensity with each lash. Sounds of pain escaped my lips and my legs shook as I was consciously fighting my brain’s pleas to move out of the way. But I knew I couldn’t, as that is cause for her adding more lashes. I was crying wholeheartedly somewhere around the 7th lash from the first 10 from that side. Then she walked over to the other side of me, and without saying a word…the lashes continued. I’m bawling pretty good as the next set of 10 continue to light my backside up. Lashes are landing from the top of my butt to the upper backs of my legs. The pain is relentless, my remorse is peaked, and my tears are flowing.
After that ten, I see the cane get tossed onto the bed in front of me and see her pick up the wicked switch. “See, you’re spanking would be over right now. But nooooo…you couldn’t follow directions. So now we have 20 more with this.” she sternly stated. And again, with no other warning, the lashes from the switch came with fury. Fwwww-pap! A mix between a wail and a grunt came from my mouth. The pain was agonizing and all consuming. I remember looking in front of me through tear blurred vision at the cane that started the spanking, and holding onto the comforter on the bed, in some attempt to help me stay in position. She finished with the 10 lashes from one side and walks to the other side and starts again. My backside felt like it was on fire and I could feel it throbbing as the remaining lashes land. Finally the 10th lash must’ve landed because she stopped spanking. I wasn’t thinking about trying to keep count myself, only to manage the pain and stay in position as much as possible. When she stopped, I was just hoping that the final 10 were done.
She then said, “Do you think you can follow directions better now young man?” “Yes Ma’am, I can!” I eagerly and quickly cried out, my voice still quivering. “Ok, then…” she stated as she walked over to the big chair in the room and sat down, still holding the wicked switch in her hand. Then she continued, “Come kneel before me.” I quickly did so and bowed my head down looking at the sandals on her feet. She stated, “Now, I’m going to give you some directions. I suggest you listen to them and the follow them closely. Failure to follow these directions to a “T” will result in you bending back over the end of the bed, and me continuing to help you learn how to follow directions. Do you understand?” “Y-yes’m.” I quickly replied.
“Good.” she stated, “In a moment I’m going to cross my legs and dangle my sandal in front of you. Without saying a word, you are to quickly and carefully take that sandal off, lift my foot up to your face, and smell the underside of my toes, while you kiss the sole of my foot. I’m then going to lightly pull my foot away and you are to put the sandal back on that foot and wait for me to cross my legs the other way, at which point you’re going to repeat the process with my second foot and sandal. After that, you’ll be graded on how well you followed my directions. It is a Pass/Fail test. If you fail, I will tell you to get up and assume the position and you know what comes next. If it is pass, then I will tell you to kiss the top of each foot and then put the implements away and your lesson will be over.
My mind is racing as I’m making sure I remember everything. “Are you ready?” she asked. Bending the switch in front of me. “Yes my Queen. Thank you my Queen!” And with that, she sat back, crossed legs and dangled her sandal. I quickly and carefully did as instructed until it was time for the other foot. I again, did as instructed thinking/hoping that I followed her directions as she had stated. And then the moment of truth came…
“I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news for you, young man.” she calmly stated as she stood up. My heart sank. But I knew better then to plead or beg. She continued, “The bad news is that you don’t get to smell my toes or kiss my soles anymore right now. But you may kiss the top of each foot now and then do as you were told. Waves of relief flooded over me and I bent over to carefully kiss the top of each foot. Without saying a word, she handed me the wicked switch she was holding and got up. I got up too and put the implements away as I had been instructed. Then I went and looked at my wrecked backside in the mirror. Jeez. Talk about a lesson learned!
Even though that wasn’t technically a woodshed whuppin’, it was probably one of the worst (if not THE worst) whuppin’ of my life. And I guarantee you that the next time she tells me to go pick out an implement, I’m not going to take any creative liberties but am going to follow her directions to a T.