(a very fond memory of someone previous, a very special woman)We’re out amongst the “Vanillas”, a glorious Sunday Morning. But you’re still “hungry”, so you brat it up. You know how to walk the line between bratting and the “wrong lines to cross”; you limit yourself to comments about what shopgoods I take interest in, the movies we saw the last week, stirring the pot but avoiding the verboten areas (family, work, veracity of my feelings for you, the “big things” outside of the bedroom). I’m being an amiable and sardonic bastard as you do so, shrugging it off, which drives you crazy, stirs YOUR pot. Now you’re feisty and hellbent on getting a reaction.
But you’ve forgotten that I’m adroit at letting you make your own bed and better still at making you lie in it when we get home.
You always kick yourself for this during the deep roastings you earn from these times, but the other part of you counts on it and can’t resist. And now you’re in the moment and have to take that last step towards “You’ll wish you never said that after we get home and I’m through dealing with you” Land. And that last step you take is a bit big for your boots, love ~ you accuse me with acid tongue of wanting to spank and do “other things” to the bottom of some other woman.
Bad move. Even as the words leave your lips, you REALLY wish you’d never finished that sentence. Because you know what’s coming next.
The Look – hard, stern, no quarter asked or given. Then the Tone of the words, that always gives you a shudder, as I say –
“After I pick up 2 more things, shopping day is OVER. No argument, no discussion. Your last comment proves that you are well passed the point of reasonable discussion anyway. But very much at the point of a good – long – lesson.”
You start to try to weasel out of it, until I say, “Look, you want to keep going? Fine. We can make this another All-Nighter if you want. Since I’m SURE you recall the last one.”
You do. Vividly. And don’t want one. The memory of the last stirs the hairs on the back of your neck and the secret ones in the inner groove of your bottom (the ones you felt my tongue run along so many times).
And those hairs stir again, after you see what I’ve purchased: a new, nasty hairbrush and a fresh tube of lubricant.
That’s when you know to politely ask for the keys so YOU can get the car and drive us both – by your own hand on the steering wheel – back home to get what’s coming.
(more later)
A beautiful Start to the day
I also have used the 1 hour spanking language on a wee hen needless to say the one hour must have deemed like 3 hours to her I remember it well as she said those famous erotic words I'll do anything!!!! 
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