Most of the spankings around here are light-hearted or erotic and very enjoyable which is just the way I like it. But sometimes I get a spanking that I don’t want. Today was one of those times.

Dan doesn’t like certain phrases I use and last night I used his least favorite, “hang on,” three times in a row. Probably would’ve helped if I hadn’t yelled out “Hang on! Hang on!” while he was spanking me for using it the first time. But I couldn’t help it! Somehow my wrist had gotten trapped between us and was being bent in an unnatural position while he was spanking me. I had to say something and “hang on” was what came out.

After making sure I wasn’t hurt, Dan told me he’d spank me for those last two in the morning. Normally, Dan would’ve spanked me immediately, but I’d had a long day and we were already in bed so he decided to wait until morning.

I wasn’t too happy about it and even tried to talk my way out of it but he wouldn’t have any of it and even threatened to add to my total so eventually I gave up and snuggled in for the night. I probably wouldn’t have even argued since it was only four swats but since he was insisting on using the terrible and evil rubber spatula, I couldn’t give in without a fight.

I didn’t care if it was only four, it was still the mean and evil rubber spatula. I hate it and Dan knows it. I guess that’s why he picked it. He wants me to stop saying “hang on” because he says it’s disrespectful and sounds dismissive when I say it. He’s trying to reform me the fastest way and the spatula I hate seems like the way to go.

*sigh* I know I was being a big baby about it and it sounds trivial especially when compared to what Patty went through recently…and my reaction was kinda silly. Sometimes though I just get out of sorts about things. Little things seem huge and four swats shouldn’t have even phased me normally…but I was feeling put upon.

So the morning came and as soon as I made my morning appearance in the living room, Dan told me to bend over the sofa and he went to get the spatula from the kitchen. He found a place to hang it in there and it’s been mocking me ever since. It’s a good thing I don’t spend too much time in there.

I waited and whined until he appeared with the nasty spatula and told me to quiet down. I tried but as soon as that first one landed, I couldn’t hold it in. I yelped and wiggled for all I was worth. It didn’t help and as soon as I was back in position, he landed another one on the opposite cheek.

The burn was more than I’d bargained for and crawling across the sofa seemed like a good idea but Dan wouldn’t let me. He’d just asked me if I was going to tell him to “hang on” again and I was trying to answer but it wasn’t easy. He didn’t give up though and I eventually answered something along the lines of “uh-uh…nooooo” while trying to burrow into the sofa. Again the mean spatula landed and I almost slid off the sofa that time. Somehow I managed to get back up and Dan landed the last one. And it was a doozy.

Sometime during this experience, my senses returned. Dan’s good at spoiling me and I’ve been getting away with alot lately. I just wasn’t ready for the party to be over, that’s why I was so disgruntled about being spanked.

I got over it pretty quick though. I think about the time that I got that second swat and I knew Dan wasn’t going to hold back on me is when I figured it out. I can be stubborn but that spatula has a way of knocking the stubborn right out of me.

I know I could’ve said something besides what I did but I haven’t tried very hard to stop saying it despite knowing how Dan feels about it. Which sucks because Dan’s a great guy who does so much for me and really loves me. I finally got it and once that sunk in, I accepted my spanking and even felt bad for being so hard-headed.

As soon as my spanking was over, I hopped around rubbing my burning cheeks until Dan pulled me to him and we both realized I was crying a little. Not much, just some sniffling and one major tear running down my face really, but it meant alot since I never cry during short spankings. It was okay, too, because I felt better for it.

Now it’s been several hours since my spanking, I’ve got a couple of serious spatula imprints and a sore bottom to sit on. I don’t think I’ll be saying that particular phrase again, Dan’s happy, and I’m feeling like all is right in my world again. Sometimes a few hard spanks is all I need and life’s back on track. I’ll always be a brat but at least I’ll be a brat who doesn’t say you know what.