Thursday, December 6, 2012

Red Bottom Weekend

After the Thanksgiving holiday, we had our first weekend alone at home. Craig decided to try one of Lizzie’s favorite fantasies - a red bottom weekend. A series of spankings, resulting in a red-hot bottom, wrapped around all our other activities.

Craig Lizzie
The day after Thanksgiving my kids headed off to spend the weekend with their mother, the first major holiday in which we did the divorced family thing. They were cool with it. But this meant, that for the first time in two months, Lizzie and I had the house to ourselves from Friday to Sunday. I was going to be certain to make it worthwhile. I sat on the ottoman and ordered Lizzie across my lap, giving her a great warm-up and a thorough OTK. By the end she was out of breath, red and grinning ear to ear.

More spankings ensued later that evening, but it was Saturday that I was looking forward to.

After a few spankings and a good, solid strapping during the day, we went to a wine bar and dinner, then returned home. Walking in the door I ordered Lizzie to take off her clothes and wait for me in the bedroom. She did as she was told. I told her to go to our stash of implements (dozens upon dozens) and select three that were her favorite and three that were her most despised. I told her if I suspected her of "going soft" on the three she hated that I would select three new ones instead. After much rummaging in the cedar trunk she produced six implements. I told her then we were going to have a "Hundreds Scene." The Hundreds Scene was something I had come up with some time ago. Simple in execution, really. Each implement is used 100 times.
For me, our weekend alone started when we dropped off my visiting nieces at the airport (Craig’s kids had left for their mom’s earlier). We walked up to the gate with the girls, who are 14 and 16. Craig told the gate attendant he had “two unaccompanied minors” flying. The woman looked at the the girls and I and said, “Which two?” I may look young, but seriously?

When we got home, we had our first opportunity to enjoy the empty house. And by enjoy, I mean I went over Craig’s lap on the ottoman, where he spanked me breathless. Our OTK scenes are a simple, intimate favorite of mine.

We took advantage of the empty house during the day - a lovely strapping and scattered spankings throughout the day. Craig had made plans for a date night. We went window shopping, to a wine bar, and out to dinner.

When we got home, Craig sent me to the bedroom. He instructed me to strip and pick out three implements I liked and three implements I didn’t like for a hundreds scene. Now a hundreds scene is something I “love to hate.” With some implements, Craig loves to strike the exact same place fifty times before moving to the other check and hitting one place fifty times. With others, Craig will use different techniques for each set of one hundred strokes.
I started off with the hand—something she hadn't expected—slapping her bare bottom 100 times. I then moved onto something she liked, my long natural leather stop. 100 strokes. From there it was time for something she didn't like, my little "black hornet" leather paddle. Stingy! After 100 smacks with that I moved back to something she liked, her thick leather custom-made paddle. Her bottom well warmed up, I really gave it my all. She was slipping into subspace, moaning and dropping her head, her hair flopping down across her face. I'd have to stop and pull her hair back to look at her face and check in. Occasional sips of water helped her along.

What Lizzie hadn't known was I had planned in advance to combine two of her favorite scenes into one. She loves our Hundreds Scenes. She also loves paradox play. So having her get the implements was a bit of a paradox in itself. Part was into the Hundreds Scene I also asked her, randomly, what number we were on. To her credit, she had been counting, but her count was off. I told her for each wrong answer she'd get a point. Each point had a value that went toward a "bonus punishment." She moaned at this news, hanging her head further in consternation. I kept asking her for counts at random times as the scene played out further.

This went on with a big wood hairbrush-style paddle and then my "travel cane," a short OTK length bamboo cane. I had her stand upright for this (also giving her a chance to stretch from her hands-on-the-bedframe position) and spread her legs. I took the cane and rapidly wagged it back and forth against her inner thighs, moving closer and closer to her pussy. This drives her crazy, I know. It's very painful to her. The faster I go and the harder I go the more on the edge it makes her. But 100 strokes at that pace went quickly and we moved on to the next implement, my new London Tanner strap (so new it still had the tag on it, as seen in this photo). Lizzie loves the strap, so that was 100 strokes she enjoyed, though she was quickly getting played out. She was deep in subspace.

I laid her on the bed to finish. By the time we were done I had delivered 700 strokes with hand and six other implements. Throughout she had correctly counted a few times (reducing the "bonus" punishments) and had added others. By the end, she had a count of five.

"Now, as part of our paradox play, you have to guess: does 'five' mean you get five bonus punishment strokes or ten strokes per five, meaning 50?" She moaned in frustration in her haze. But she thought about it. Hard. "Five?" she asked timidly. "You are correct." I could see her visibly relax on the soft comforter. "But you know, I'm pretty sure you didn't select one of your most despised implements when you picked your six." She moaned again—caught! "Did you think I didn't notice?" She really didn't have an answer for that. She was without words, dreamy and spent.

I went back to the chest and pulled the dreaded foam V-crop. I wagged it under her nose. "See? Now you get five final strokes of this!" And with that I rapped her bottom firmly five times with the thick heavy foam crop.

And with that, the scene was done.

I poured Lizzie a hot bath, added some epsom salts, and then poured her into the tub, staying in the bathroom to keep an eye on her. She was dizzy, a limp noodle.

The next day her bottom was a splotchy, solid bruise.
I stripped quickly and knelt down in front of the cedar chest in our walk-in closet. One of my big projects since moving has been transforming my cedar chest (a family heirloom) into a storage solution for our overabundance of implements. I’m actually really excited about the system I finally came up with, but it wasn’t completed at this time. So picking the implements took a great deal of rummaging around.

Choosing the implements also presented a huge paradox. I knew that Craig would not be pleased if I picked six implements I loved and tried to pass three off as implements I hated. But there are a few things I simply couldn’t face having used in a hundreds scene: primarily that awful rubber crop. I actually had it out with five other implements, but decided I couldn’t do it. As I was putting the crop back in the cedar chest and pulling out Craig’s travel cane as a replacement, Craig walked into the closet.

“Are you sure that’s what you want to do?” he growled at me as he walked past, making it obvious he had seen my substitution.

I hesitated, opening the cedar chest again and trying to find the courage to pull out the rubber crop. But Craig scooped the six implements up and said, “Too late, you’ve made your choice.”

With that ominous statement, he spread the implements on the bed and had me bend over at the end of the bed. He started with his hand and moved through the implements. I’m sure his description of the scene itself is better than anything I could come up with; I tend to lose myself in our heavy scenes.

It hurt...duh...but I floated away. Annoyingly, Craig kept asking me what number we were on. I cannot keep count during a scene like this. And he didn’t helpfullly stop on “typical” numbers - no 25 or 50; he would stop on 32 or some such nonsense.

He kept track of my mistaken counts. The few times I got the number right, he would remove one of the points. Thank goodness he didn’t want me to keep track of that too - I might have lost my mind.

I do clearly remember when he used the travel cane between my legs. That hurts so, so much. When he stopped and asked how many that was, even with how painful it was, I guessed 50. He’d given me the entire set of 100 without pause. I got another point, but at least he was finished with that awful cane!

We ended the hundreds scene with five “bonus” points, despite my best efforts at counting properly. Craig moved me onto the bed; I was pretty much incapable of independent movement by that point. I sprawled out on the bed, uncertain what those five mistakes would bring.

Craig got out the horrible rubber crop and showed it to me. He traced my body with the hard edge of the crop, along my arms and across my back.

“Does ‘five’ mean you get five strokes with this? Or fifty?”

I squirmed on the bed, unwilling to answer. He repeated the question, teasing my body with the horrible promise of the crop.

“Five?” I asked, finally deciding that was the safer answer - if he was giving me fifty, any penalty for being wrong would hardly register; but I didn’t want him to think I wanted fifty!

I sunk into the bed when he agreed. I was so relieved that the burning strikes barely registered in my mind, though I’m sure my body responded.
Even though she was sore, I subjected Lizzie to a few more light spankings during the day. Sunday evening, as Lizzie and were preparing dinner and awaiting the return of my kids, I gave her yet another spanking, this one a bit harder, and used some pervertables from the kitchen. As a goof, I pulled out the large wood pizza peel from the cupboard over the oven. A solid (and loud!) strike and Lizzie nearly jumped to the ceiling. Another strike! And another! On the last, the entire board split in two, right down the middle! Now, I've broken a couple implements on Erica's atomic bottom and I've broken at least one cane on Lizzie's hearty hide, but nothing as robust (or as large!) as that pizza peel!

For the next two days, whenever we sat down together or got into the car, Lizzie would groan and fidget. "How's the bottom?" I asked. Her eyes aglow, she would turn to me and say, "Just fine!"

Lizzie had written me a story called "Red Bottom Weekend" ages ago. In it, a couple living together had a weekend of on-again, off-again spankings to the point the poor bottom never recovered. It was one of her biggest fantasies. I think we got close Thanksgiving weekend to our first ever Red Bottom Weekend.
Craig finished the scene with another of my fantasies - he ran a bath, added epsom salts, and helped me into the bath. He brought me a glass of water and stayed with me while I luxuriated in the hot water. He helped me out of the tub and dried me off. It’s a silly, almost vanilla desire, being taken care of that way - but I love it.

Throughout the weekend, Craig gave me several more spankings. I love being surprised by little spankings, especially when my bottom is tender enough that a few swats can really make an impact. I moaned theatrically every time I sat down and sometimes pouted at Craig, but he took that all in stride. He knows I love it, and I know he loves knowing I can still feel his efforts.

The most memorable of those little spankings, of course, is when Craig broke the pizza shovel on my butt. He was spanking me with it in the kitchen when the wood broke in half. He set aside one half and used the other to continue his spanking. We took a fun picture with the broken “implement”. Remarkably, none of the kids noticed that the missing item from the kitchen and none of them have mentioned the metal replacement.

I had a wonderful Red Bottom Weekend. I look forward to doing it again (and again and again).


  1. It sounds like you both had a great time fulfilling this fantasy! What a memorable weekend! I'd find having to keep count during that long of a scene annoying too. Lol.

    1. We certainly did! It was great. I'd make you keep track, too, Lea!

    2. Counting is not something I enjoy doing. As a general rule, if a Top suggested it at a party I'd say "thanks, but no thanks." In casual play, I want to get in trouble for things I chose not to do...not things I cannot do. And I cannot keep count while I'm being spanked! I get distracted. But with Craig, it's fun for a change of pace, a different sort of challenge.

  2. Wow! What a yummy weekend, made all the more enjoyable because with kids around most of the time, you can't be as spontaneous as you'd like.

    I like the double recounting of the same event.


    1. It was super-yummy. We had a wonderful time. Glad you're enjoying the format, Hermione!

    2. It's a change from our long-distance relationship with frequent play-intensive weekends, certainly. But I think it's sweeter in that we have both the daily intimacy and the occasional fantasy weekends.

      I'm glad you like the format, Hermione. I think we are both really enjoying this challenge to our writing style and our story-telling. Plus we get to relive the fun several times in composing, comparing, and tweaking.