Friday, December 14, 2007
Angela Was A Bad Girl
With the yuletide just around the corner, it seems prudent to give you an update of some of the happenings here at the Spanko homestead, home of everyone’s favorite imaginary spanking couple.
With the advent of the internet (thank-you once again, Mr. Gore), the holidays for me are no longer terribly stressful. I don’t go to stores. I don’t send Christmas cards. I let my fingers do the walking. Walking across the keyboard, that is. I do almost all of my shopping online, and I send out oodles of online Christmas greetings, all from the comfort of my own home.
Angela, on the other hand, does not. For some strange reason, she insists on buying gifts in person, thereby subjecting herself to the crowds, traffic, and disappointments that one inevitably encounters this time of year. She says it is more traditional. This year, since she is not working, she has been more “traditional” than usual.
She has also been more cranky.
Last Saturday, Angela left the house at 7:30 am and did not return home until mid-afternoon. Upon arriving, she had nothing to say to me or Colette except for complaints. The sales people were rude. Every store was out of everything. The remaining merchandise had all been picked over multiple times. And to make matters worse, a storm system was dumping loads of crap upon our city. I determined that my dear wife was in need of some much-needed de-crankifying (one great thing about blogging is the ability to make up new words).
When Angela had settled down, she went into the kitchen to prepare herself a late lunch. When she had finished, I decided that now was the time to tae action. I went to the back door of the barn and asked if she wanted me to carry any packages to the guest house for storage, to keep them away from prying eyes. She said “yes” and came to show me what to take.
Before continuing, I should mention that Angela and I really do not engage in what is often referred to as “punishment” spankings, per se. Because we find spanking fun, we choose to not “reward” the other with a butt warming for real life failures. That being said, sometimes one needs to set the proper mood. Therefore, neither of us are averse to inventing sometimes outlandish reasons for which to give a paddling.
When we stepped outside, I said to her, “Now, Angela, I’m really rather disappointed in you. You just did something that almost turned out to be a disaster if I hadn’t intervened.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” she asked. One of the things that I love about Angela is that she is so ladylike.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. When you were making your lunch, you made yourself a cup of chamomile tea, and you threw the tea bag into the garbage.”
“Yeah. So?”
“Well, if I would have taken the garbage to the curb, you know darn well that the Cat would have smelled the chamomile. (Ed. Note – as you may recall, Cat is the immortal cat that lives in our yard. She came with the house. She never digs in the garbage because we keep her well fed.) Then Cat would have taken the bag onto the porch and torn it open. When I would walk onto the porch, I would have tripped over Cat and knocked myself unconscious. Cat would have felt so guilty that she would have tried to drag me to the car and drive me to the hospital.”
At this point, Angela was trying to suppress a snort. “And….” was all she could say.
“And… you know what bad drivers cats are. She would have gotten into an accident which would have made my injuries worse and so I would not have been able to play a Christmas elf at the school this year!”
Angela tried to feign indignation, but she was not doing too well.
I continued. “If I hadn’t have taken that tea bag out of the trash, the Christmas play would have been ruined, and some poor kid would be so upset that he’d become a mad scientist and develop a bacteria that would eat all of the dirt in the world, leaving us to live in a world with no dirt!”
What can I say. I was working off the cuff.
“And so, young lady, for your carelessness, you and I are going to take a stroll over to the guest house where I am going to take your pants down, take you over my knee, and give your bare butt a good spanking with a hairbrush!”
After her spanking, Angela was in much better spirits.
Now I just hope that she never throws out another tea bag.
Or maybe I hope that she does. Then I’d have to spank her again. Wouldn’t that be a little fantastic?
With the advent of the internet (thank-you once again, Mr. Gore), the holidays for me are no longer terribly stressful. I don’t go to stores. I don’t send Christmas cards. I let my fingers do the walking. Walking across the keyboard, that is. I do almost all of my shopping online, and I send out oodles of online Christmas greetings, all from the comfort of my own home.
Angela, on the other hand, does not. For some strange reason, she insists on buying gifts in person, thereby subjecting herself to the crowds, traffic, and disappointments that one inevitably encounters this time of year. She says it is more traditional. This year, since she is not working, she has been more “traditional” than usual.
She has also been more cranky.
Last Saturday, Angela left the house at 7:30 am and did not return home until mid-afternoon. Upon arriving, she had nothing to say to me or Colette except for complaints. The sales people were rude. Every store was out of everything. The remaining merchandise had all been picked over multiple times. And to make matters worse, a storm system was dumping loads of crap upon our city. I determined that my dear wife was in need of some much-needed de-crankifying (one great thing about blogging is the ability to make up new words).
When Angela had settled down, she went into the kitchen to prepare herself a late lunch. When she had finished, I decided that now was the time to tae action. I went to the back door of the barn and asked if she wanted me to carry any packages to the guest house for storage, to keep them away from prying eyes. She said “yes” and came to show me what to take.
Before continuing, I should mention that Angela and I really do not engage in what is often referred to as “punishment” spankings, per se. Because we find spanking fun, we choose to not “reward” the other with a butt warming for real life failures. That being said, sometimes one needs to set the proper mood. Therefore, neither of us are averse to inventing sometimes outlandish reasons for which to give a paddling.
When we stepped outside, I said to her, “Now, Angela, I’m really rather disappointed in you. You just did something that almost turned out to be a disaster if I hadn’t intervened.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” she asked. One of the things that I love about Angela is that she is so ladylike.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. When you were making your lunch, you made yourself a cup of chamomile tea, and you threw the tea bag into the garbage.”
“Yeah. So?”
“Well, if I would have taken the garbage to the curb, you know darn well that the Cat would have smelled the chamomile. (Ed. Note – as you may recall, Cat is the immortal cat that lives in our yard. She came with the house. She never digs in the garbage because we keep her well fed.) Then Cat would have taken the bag onto the porch and torn it open. When I would walk onto the porch, I would have tripped over Cat and knocked myself unconscious. Cat would have felt so guilty that she would have tried to drag me to the car and drive me to the hospital.”
At this point, Angela was trying to suppress a snort. “And….” was all she could say.
“And… you know what bad drivers cats are. She would have gotten into an accident which would have made my injuries worse and so I would not have been able to play a Christmas elf at the school this year!”
Angela tried to feign indignation, but she was not doing too well.
I continued. “If I hadn’t have taken that tea bag out of the trash, the Christmas play would have been ruined, and some poor kid would be so upset that he’d become a mad scientist and develop a bacteria that would eat all of the dirt in the world, leaving us to live in a world with no dirt!”What can I say. I was working off the cuff.
“And so, young lady, for your carelessness, you and I are going to take a stroll over to the guest house where I am going to take your pants down, take you over my knee, and give your bare butt a good spanking with a hairbrush!”
After her spanking, Angela was in much better spirits.
Now I just hope that she never throws out another tea bag.
Or maybe I hope that she does. Then I’d have to spank her again. Wouldn’t that be a little fantastic?
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What a fun story, Frank! I love shopping on the internet too, by the way. Happy Holidays to you and yours.
Kallisto
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Kallisto
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