Monday, June 22, 2009
The Story Unfinished, Conclusion
Editor's note: Frank is recovering nicely and expects to be home from the hospital tomorrow. He has promised a full recounting of his time there. In the meantime, here is the last segment of his story about Liz. The previous chapter is here.
Liz straightened up and put her hands behind her head, still in punishment mode. "Thank-you, sir, for paddling me so hard," she said. It was something that I deserved and that I needed."
"You're welcome," I responded. "Your punishment is complete, Liz. You can put your hands down." Liz let out a huge sigh and immediately reached back to feel her roasted rear end. She winced when she first touched her buns, and started to more tenderly rub her red cheeks.
"Why don't you take all the time you want to recover," I told Liz. "There's lotions and stuff in the bathroom to keep your skin from cracking. And there are ice packs in the kitchen freezer to if you're afraid of swelling. If you want, when you feel better, come over to the barn. I'm making lasagna for dinner."
All through Liz' ordeal, she had not shed a tear, which I found curious. I could see her eyes reddening, but she would not let herself cry. I was afraid that perhaps all of these spankings she had been given this day had not really had any effect, and that she might return to her hedonistic ways, thinking that her conscience was clear.
As I started to leave, Liz said, "Hey Frank, thanks for doing this. And thank Angela for me, too." Her voice started to crack. Then I saw the truth. She was waiting for me to leave before falling apart. While her humility let her submit to this substantial punishment, her pride would not let anyone see her cry. I left her alone to deal with her emotions.
How did I feel about all of this? To this day, I'm not really sure. I was angry at Liz for living such an irresponsible life, especially since she seemed like such a practical person when I knew her from before. The spanking made me feel good, not just because of my spanko inclinations, but because it let me take some of that anger and disappointment out on her butt. Yet part of me felt like perhaps we had gone too far. The masturbation episode made me especially uncomfortable, because it seemed like we had made Liz degrade herself entirely too much.
However, not once did Liz protest. She cooperated throughout the entire afternoon. She had seemed so tense when she first arrived the previous day that I thought the least little weight might cause her to shatter like so much fragile crystal. And I knew my wife well. Angela would never embarrass or shame anyone (except maybe the children who were sometimes embarrassed by the very presence of a parent when around their peers) without a very strong and proper reason. Also, Liz seemed to trust Angela, and had said so. Being a woman, I think that perhaps Angela saw something in Liz' soul that a man could never see. I eventually decided that it was not the proper time to pass judgment. Time would answer my questions.
Later that afternoon, as I was preparing the lasagna, I saw Liz come out of the guest house and head towards the barn. I remarked as such to Angela, who quickly went outside to intercept her. I watched through the window as Angela took Liz' hand, and they appeared to speak warmly. Then Liz and Angela exchanged a rather long and emotional embrace.
As Angela escorted Liz into the barn, she said, "I told Liz that she could stay in the guest house for as long as she liked. I hope you don't mind." Of course I was okay with it, and I told Angela so.
"Was that why Liz gave you such a nice hug?" I added.
"No," was Angela's response.
"So what did you tell her?"
"That, Francis, is something that you will have to spank out of me."
As it turned out, there was not need to spank the truth out of Angela, not that I need a reason to spank Angela. Liz told me later that Angela had told her she knew Liz was a good person, that she had just done some bad things. Angela had said that she wanted to be friends with Liz so that she could learn about the good things that Liz had done over the years, and not just things that she needed to be spanked for doing. My darling wife has a wonderful heart.
Liz stayed for three days, and then told us that she had to go back to Florida to "get her affairs in order." By that, she meant that she needed to sell her condo and pay her bills. She first sold her Beemer (which she had paid cash for) and bought a used Escort. She sold most of her furnishings and other possessions and used the cash to pay off what she owed. The selling price on her condo made her a small profit, which she had to split with her ex-husband. She took what she had left and moved to St. Louis, where she took a contract job as working on the infamous and much-overhyped "Y2K bug." Since them, Liz has worked on a number of other contracts. She has not re-married and has not really settled down, but rather works a job in a city until the project is over, then finds a new contract that pays well in a different city and moves on. This is indeed not that unusual a life for a talented computer professional.
We see Liz from time to time, whenever she is nearby (meaning whenever she passes within a hundred miles or so of us she takes a detour to visit). Sometimes we have a nice dinner. Sometimes we play games. Games that do not involve the children. Games that do involve things that were done during those last two encounters with Liz. If you know what I mean.
But that, my friends, is a story for another day.
Suffice to say, Liz has turned her life around. She definitely has a fondness for expensive things, but she always saves her money and pays cash. She once said that, once she has gathered enough money, she often decides that she no longer wanted that item. So she's clearly more responsible.
Plus, she is our friend. Both Angela and I agree that she is a fantastic friend.
Liz straightened up and put her hands behind her head, still in punishment mode. "Thank-you, sir, for paddling me so hard," she said. It was something that I deserved and that I needed."
"You're welcome," I responded. "Your punishment is complete, Liz. You can put your hands down." Liz let out a huge sigh and immediately reached back to feel her roasted rear end. She winced when she first touched her buns, and started to more tenderly rub her red cheeks.
"Why don't you take all the time you want to recover," I told Liz. "There's lotions and stuff in the bathroom to keep your skin from cracking. And there are ice packs in the kitchen freezer to if you're afraid of swelling. If you want, when you feel better, come over to the barn. I'm making lasagna for dinner."All through Liz' ordeal, she had not shed a tear, which I found curious. I could see her eyes reddening, but she would not let herself cry. I was afraid that perhaps all of these spankings she had been given this day had not really had any effect, and that she might return to her hedonistic ways, thinking that her conscience was clear.
As I started to leave, Liz said, "Hey Frank, thanks for doing this. And thank Angela for me, too." Her voice started to crack. Then I saw the truth. She was waiting for me to leave before falling apart. While her humility let her submit to this substantial punishment, her pride would not let anyone see her cry. I left her alone to deal with her emotions.
How did I feel about all of this? To this day, I'm not really sure. I was angry at Liz for living such an irresponsible life, especially since she seemed like such a practical person when I knew her from before. The spanking made me feel good, not just because of my spanko inclinations, but because it let me take some of that anger and disappointment out on her butt. Yet part of me felt like perhaps we had gone too far. The masturbation episode made me especially uncomfortable, because it seemed like we had made Liz degrade herself entirely too much.
However, not once did Liz protest. She cooperated throughout the entire afternoon. She had seemed so tense when she first arrived the previous day that I thought the least little weight might cause her to shatter like so much fragile crystal. And I knew my wife well. Angela would never embarrass or shame anyone (except maybe the children who were sometimes embarrassed by the very presence of a parent when around their peers) without a very strong and proper reason. Also, Liz seemed to trust Angela, and had said so. Being a woman, I think that perhaps Angela saw something in Liz' soul that a man could never see. I eventually decided that it was not the proper time to pass judgment. Time would answer my questions.
Later that afternoon, as I was preparing the lasagna, I saw Liz come out of the guest house and head towards the barn. I remarked as such to Angela, who quickly went outside to intercept her. I watched through the window as Angela took Liz' hand, and they appeared to speak warmly. Then Liz and Angela exchanged a rather long and emotional embrace.
As Angela escorted Liz into the barn, she said, "I told Liz that she could stay in the guest house for as long as she liked. I hope you don't mind." Of course I was okay with it, and I told Angela so.
"Was that why Liz gave you such a nice hug?" I added.
"No," was Angela's response.
"So what did you tell her?"
"That, Francis, is something that you will have to spank out of me."
As it turned out, there was not need to spank the truth out of Angela, not that I need a reason to spank Angela. Liz told me later that Angela had told her she knew Liz was a good person, that she had just done some bad things. Angela had said that she wanted to be friends with Liz so that she could learn about the good things that Liz had done over the years, and not just things that she needed to be spanked for doing. My darling wife has a wonderful heart.
Liz stayed for three days, and then told us that she had to go back to Florida to "get her affairs in order." By that, she meant that she needed to sell her condo and pay her bills. She first sold her Beemer (which she had paid cash for) and bought a used Escort. She sold most of her furnishings and other possessions and used the cash to pay off what she owed. The selling price on her condo made her a small profit, which she had to split with her ex-husband. She took what she had left and moved to St. Louis, where she took a contract job as working on the infamous and much-overhyped "Y2K bug." Since them, Liz has worked on a number of other contracts. She has not re-married and has not really settled down, but rather works a job in a city until the project is over, then finds a new contract that pays well in a different city and moves on. This is indeed not that unusual a life for a talented computer professional.
We see Liz from time to time, whenever she is nearby (meaning whenever she passes within a hundred miles or so of us she takes a detour to visit). Sometimes we have a nice dinner. Sometimes we play games. Games that do not involve the children. Games that do involve things that were done during those last two encounters with Liz. If you know what I mean.
But that, my friends, is a story for another day.
Suffice to say, Liz has turned her life around. She definitely has a fondness for expensive things, but she always saves her money and pays cash. She once said that, once she has gathered enough money, she often decides that she no longer wanted that item. So she's clearly more responsible.
Plus, she is our friend. Both Angela and I agree that she is a fantastic friend.
