It has been over a couple of months since my last “woodshed whuppin'”. And it shows. My teasing has gone up, my arrogance has gone up and my household duties have slipped.
This weekend we were tag team cleaning our bedroom and she asked me for help with something and I quipped, “Hey, you don’t tell me what to do.”. It was said in jest but is not something she normally tolerates and that day wasn’t any different. She darted into the closet aka, the Belt Lair. And sure enough, she came out with the meanest belt she has (of course) and landed a lash on me that I can still feel! Just one. She told me, “I can tell you are LONG overdue for a whuppin’ and you just bought yourself one. A woodshed whuppin’.” She continued, “This Wednesday, plan on getting a belting you won’t soon forget.” My childish grin of orneriness quickly was replaced by a look of gloom and doom. I know I’ve earned it, deserve it and it will certainly improve my attitude and behavior but it is still something to be feared. “A Whuppin’ Is Coming.” I thought.
There are a couple ways to take a woodshed whuppin’. Gallantly and accepting of your fate, or pleading and trying to talk your way out of it. I’ve done both. Unfortunately, the latter has been more commonplace these days. But rightly so as over the last several years, we’ve transitioned into me getting REAL punishment spankings. No warm up, no wimpy implements, no rubbing the butt between swats or long pauses between swats. Just harsh swats, with a severe implement, over and over again. For the record, it is consensual in that I consent to being held accountable and receiving real corporal punishment for my transgressions, but aside from that, it is very real in her application of them.
Even on the times of going into it defiantly and gallantly, after the first several swats or lashes land, my arrogance and defiance quickly leave my body as pain and remorse flood my senses.
On one occasion, right after she sentenced me to a severe belt whuppin’ and told me to assume the position. I walked over to the end of the bed, pulled down my shorts and underwear, and quipped, “Ok but try to make it hurt this time.” Oh man, did her eyes light up as she grew an evil smile, then proceeded to light me up in a way I had never been whupped before. The pain was so intense as the swats from her doubled over belt kept landing and landing. During those moments, self preservation kicks and you want to move or get out of the way. But I know if I get out of position, I’ll only get it worse. Yes, I learned that from experience.
Over the years, there have been a few other instances where I managed to say some “cool lines”…may they rest in peace:
“Hey…less yappin’ and more strappin’.”
“Is that all the harder you can spank?”
“Maybe I should show YOU what a real spanking feels like?”
All ending in a similar or worse fate than that first example (especially that last one). And after your brain logs in a few cause and effect lessons like that; when she starts taking off her belt to give me a real whuppin’ or any implement for a real woodshed type whuppin’, my brain is a lot less cooperative about spouting off something stupid before it starts. I’ve followed my Queen into the woodshed, knowing what’s coming and planing a great line to say before the spanking, but right at the moment of truth, I decline to try the line out, realizing how bad it is going to be WITHOUT pissing her off right beforehand.
So tonight, for me…Whuppin’ Is Coming. She has said she is going to use her meanest belt and that she may break out the cane if I don’t take my spanking appropriately. I’ll do my best to keep it to just a belt whuppin’ but that’s severe enough. I know I’m in for tears and will likely be crying at some point during and through the rest of the spanking.
To see how it went down…see Whuppin’ Is Coming – Update.