Tuesday, July 11, 2017

Bad Girl Bruises

Eric was gone all night.  He finally returned from the office at 9:40 this morning but I was at work by then.  He told me when the fourth hour of getting nowhere slipped by, he almost walked out.  I wish he had.  I wish he'd come home, told me he was done living this way, and that we were moving to the beach and starting again.  Instead he reminded me of his ability to wait ever so patiently until the right time, no matter how painful it was.

Eric slept most of the day and we had dinner together.  We went to bed early because sleep was not on the agenda. :)  He kissed my neck and stroked my hair.  Our lips touched, finding long lost friends in each other, and I felt his hands memorize my body as he undid and removed my clothing piece by piece.  His mouth encompassed my nipples and his fingers dipped inside me while he sucked and pulled one breast and then the other.  He continued to kiss his way down my belly and then, ready to bury himself where his fingers had been, he flipped me over, doggy style.  I expected to feel him press inside me but instead, he got off the bed and stood next to me, staring.

"What's wrong?"  I asked, looking back and wondering why he suddenly stopped.

Eric looked directly into my eyes, waiting, as though I could read what was in his head.  The silence was deafening.

"Your ass is all bruised up," he stated in a flat tone.

My face went scarlet and I wallowed in the humiliating moment of truth.  Last night, when Eric was not coming home and I wanted nothing but to yell at him for circumstances beyond his control, I'd opted to take his belt from the closet, fold it in half and whip myself twenty times on each cheek. It did the trick for sure.  I went to bed stinging and focused, Eric not knowing how disappointed or mad I had been.  The bruises gave me away.

Self discipline is not something either of us is a fan of simply because we'd rather Eric take care of my needs when they arise.  However, we both realize with a job like his, I'm alone way too much to go without and though we discussed it at one time, a hired hand has not made the list of options.  Our agreement is, I self discipline when I need to, but I always let Eric know when I do and if possible, he is with me by phone.  This time, I hadn't mentioned it. Not before. Not during. Not after.

I blubbered on and on about when, why and how.  Eric wasn't mad but stated that with self discipline, especially when done without telling him, there are consequences.  He took me to the mirror and made me look at the damage. Two large dark patches, one on each cheek.  Then he went to the closet and returned with his belt.

"Show me," he said and for the second time tonight, I blushed.

"I don't want to," I said quietly.  "I've had enough."

Eric looked surprised.  "I didn't ask what you wanted and I'll decide when you've had enough," he said handing me the belt.  "Exactly as you did last night, I want to see it."

Oh, the pain.  Twenty swats on each cheek, already bruised from before.

Oh, the embarrassment. My red hot bottom easily matched the shade of my face.

When I finished, Eric took the belt and hung it back on the wall.  He walked me over to the spanking chair and placed me across his lap.  He had pulled an old wire hanger from the clothes rack and I counted as he streaked my bottom with the intense sting of the wire. One through ten.  Ouch.

"You will not be wearing your bikini at the pool, getting massages, or sun tanning until these bruises have completely healed," he commanded with each strike.  "I am all for you disciplining yourself when I am away but there is no need to go to the extremes and bruise yourself like this."

By the time we got back to bed, I was on fire and eager to lie on my stomach.

"No way," Eric said, forcing me into a seated position and handing me the laptop. "You need to reflect on tonight and I don't think corner time will cut it. Instead, you're going to sit on that red ass, Amy, and blog until I'm ready to start our evening over again."

I've typed as fast as I could.  Here you go, Eric.  May I please get back to your sexy maneuvers and leave this tragedy behind me?!


P.S. He said "yes". :)  Close your eyes, Blogland.  The rest of tonight is for us.


  1. Master applied a coat hanger on my bottom once, honestly I cannot remember why...but it did make a BIG point. I swear M and Eric must be from the same gene pool...glad the rest of your night was memorable for a better reason. hugs abby

    1. You are so right. Maybe they are cousins. I've read quite a few of your stories and thought, that could be our house!

  2. OH Amy so sorry you had to resort to self discipline. Ouch a spanking with a coat hanger sounds shocking. Hope you received some MFL after that episode.

    Hugs Lindy xx

    1. Let's just say, I haven't slept all night and it wasn't because I was in any sort of pain. ;) That man sure knows how to take care of his girl. Amy

  3. Barney used to use a hanger on me the first year of ttwd- as it was a quiet implement. He has resurrected it a few times in times of 'need' ( I'm going with HIS need not mine on this one!). Unfortunately they can be found quiet easily most places. And yes spankings on a bruised but is NOT a good time!

  4. Darn hangers! Nobody questions a hanger. All you have to do is put a shirt on the thing and it goes undetected as the STING from - you know where. No swearing aloud. ;) Amy


Thank you for reading! Thank you even more, if you decide to comment. :)