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Drumsticks

Published Monday, January 09, 2006 by rivka | E-mail this post

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I walked past him, a flirtatious smile on my lips. My hands grasped the rope swing and I leaned back towards him. He glanced at me from the pile of boards he was sorting through.
"I bet I know what you want..." He whispered in my ear, as he lifted some planks and made his way back to the fire where the rest of our friends were. I watched as he re-kindled the flames and then came back to me.
"Mmmm... maybe. As long as it's a good one." I winked at him. I was sure I was playing the game just right.
"Go find out where everyone is at, and I'll think about it."
Think about what? Whether it should be good or not? Suddenly my heart began to drop. Maybe I hadn't played it right. I'd forgotten about my behavior over the past couple days.

I swallowed hard and began walking towards the house. Gradually it dawned on me that the yard was huge. There were nooks and crannies everywhere I looked - the dark, cool night hid several corners. From the swing where I'd been flirting with fate, all the way to the house, not a soul was in sight. The house was practically empty, excepting a lone TV junkie and a few mewing cats. I was in for it.

Delaying the inevitable for as long as possible, I found the medicine cabinet and downed some pills for the headache I felt coming on. Just as I gulped the last of the water from my glass, I heard the door close behind me. I cringed and turned just in time to see him walk in; looking for me.
"There's nobody around... Sorry I had to get some medicine for my head." I said before he had a chance to ask.
"Alright, let's go."

We walked out of the house side by side. The thought of how much I loved him brought on the guilt pangs. I looked down at my feet.
"It's going to be a punishment spanking." I knew already, and simply nodded my head.
"Do you know why you're getting it?" He asked, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder.
"For being disrespectful to you." I replied in a small voice. My stomach felt like a dropping elevator.
He steered me towards an elevated shed with steps attached to the front of it. We stopped and he looked around. From the corner of the little building you could see the people congregating around the fire in the distance.
"Alright, let's go to the picnic table over there." He pointed about twenty-five feet away. I immediately balked.
"Why not right here by the steps? At least the vehicles block the house over here." It was true. The picnic table was lined up directly with a clear shot to the door.
"OK, we'll do it here." He agreed and turned to pick something up. When he turned back, he held a flat, thin piece of wood in his hand. My heart did double time.
"This might be too loud..." He pointed out, looking around the corner suspiciously, "Lean over the steps."

I put my hands on the steps and angled my butt in the direction he wanted. After a moment of positioning, I felt the first slap of the implement he'd chosen. It stung, but it would take more than one lick for the pain to build up. However, the cracking noise was loud enough to make him hesitate, so I turned to look at him.
"I'm going to use my hand because that was too loud and I don't want anyone walking up."
I just nodded. I was so nervous. Somewhat because of the idea that people were everywhere, mostly because I had no clue just what he had in mind. Would it be long? Would it be really hard? Just how mad was he?

A few hand smacks into the spanking, regret began to overtake me. I really was sorry he felt the need to do this. Tonight had been a wonderful night and we'd gotten along great. But because I'd acted so rotten the days before, he had to interject this punishment into it. It took a while, but the spanks began to add up and I could feel the heat burning into my butt. Jeans and all, the sting was still getting to me.
Finally he paused, "Ten more - count them out."
And I did. Those were the hardest of the whole bunch, and I had to shift my weight a few times.
When it was over, I turned and he held me in his arms. His body shook slightly, and I wondered outloud why. He didn't know. There wasn't a hint of anger in his body, so I knew it was nothing like rage. I decided that it had to be the mix of emotions he himself was feeling. Having to punish me for both our conscious' sakes. Maybe slightly anxious because of all the people. Sadness at what I'd done? My heart dropped again.
"I'm sorry..." I said quietly.
"It's alright, I forgive you."

But I still felt bad. Because he'd chosen that piece of wood initially, I knew he intended on the spanking being a lot more harsh than it was. And I knew I deserved it.
"Was that good enough?" I asked a little later. He looked down at me, a quizzical look in his eyes.
"Yeah, Baby." And he kissed me on the forehead. But something just wasn't right.
"Promise?" I insisted. He kissed me again and forced a smile. He will never promise me something unless it's absolutely true. So, I knew it wasn't good enough when he refused to answer.
"I stopped because I didn't want anyone to walk up." He admitted.
"If you get the chance again tonight, promise me you'll finish?" I said quietly. He promised.

The opportunity did present itself. Later on we found ourselves upstairs in the house. Only a few others were mulling around. I knew I would feel guilty and horrible for days if I didn't get the spanking over with, so I looked around for an implement and a place to go. I could have grabbed a hairbrush out of the bathroom. I could have taken a ruler from the kitchen counter. I even could have borrowed a belt from one of the bedrooms. But when I saw the drumsticks, my choice was made.

A while back, he'd picked up a set of drumsticks and smacked me a couple times. Only for play, but the sting was strangely intense. I liked the after effects combined with the erotic mindset, but I knew I'd hate those things for punishment. I wasn't scared to tell him that either. In fact, I made it quite clear that other than light taps, I already abhorred those makeshift implements.

So, choosing the drumsticks had a lot of meaning behind it. I knew the pain would be intense, but with all the people... it had to be to get the point across in the time-frame we were presented with. I also knew that he would remember my major dislike for them, and realize that I was completely aware of what I deserved.

I grabbed one and went towards him. When he saw, his face wrinkled in confusion, "A drumstick? Are you sure?"
I nodded a quiet yes.
It didn't take long for me to slip inside a doorway. I leaned against the wall, and he started the last of my punishment. Just as I had suspected, the pain was very profound. I grit my teeth and balled my fists up tightly. Counting was the last thing on my mind. All I could do was hope to God it wouldn't last long. It didn't take but a minute for me to start shifting my weight again. The sting was shocking, and although he alternated cheeks, he kept coming back to the same spot on each side.

Just as I was about to cross over into involuntary noise making, he stopped. As if on cue. I stood there and sucked in a few deep breaths; trying vainly to even out the pain.
"It's over, Baby."
Once again, I turned into his arms and apologized. This time, it was really over.

And I still hate drumsticks.

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About me

  • Intro (with up-to-date edits)

    • In Dreams

    "And in dreams I am free
    falling into what is not;
    what will be what is.

    It's this intense hatred
    for reality twisted
    in an obsession of hope

    Defy the stagnant
    life that speaks only
    what can be but wills not.

    God's grace,
    not my self fear
    of what I think I cannot be."

    -rivka

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