Turnabout Can Be Fair Play
Risky business, but fun when it works. Here’s Tiny Miranda, turning the tables:
On the Tuesday, after we had had dinner, we sat, lazily, in front of the telly, watching whatever was on it. I decided that this was so boring so I wanted to cheer us up a bit. I got the hairbrush and simply told the red haired woman that it was time for a spanking. As she looked at me, I knew she wasn’t sure exactly what I meant, but that when I sat down in the sofa and tapped my knees she knew.
She is the spanker and she is the one calling the shots in our home, so there was a moment when it could have backfired. She might have told me she didn’t fancy it and given me a spanking instead. I was, actually, a little nervous when she smiled a strange smile and crawled over and put herself in my lap.
‘You are forgetting something,’ I said, strengthened by my success.
‘What could that be?’
‘Don’t get smart, now, you know what I mean.’
‘Do I?’
‘Spankings are always delivered on the…’
‘…Bare.’
‘Right! So, what does it mean, my dear red haired friend?’
‘You are actually telling me to take my trousers down?’
‘Not only your trousers.’
‘I guess it’s only logical.’
Logic is important to Felicia. She sighed and unbuttoned her jeans and then she pulled them down along with her knickers.
Then I spanked her. I have done it before, but I am not a good spanker. I started out a little meekly, scared of hurting her(!). It is true, I did, but that only lasted a moment. Then I thought that a spanking actually hurts, and that the very reason for spanking someone is to make it hurt.
It was much more fun after that. You may think I am a mean person, now, and maybe I am, but it was, kind of, fun. I didn’t hurt her a lot, just enjoyed smacking her fair bottom with the hairbrush that so often has descended on my own unprotected skin.
See Also:
