Erica vs. the paddles

I think I lost. But I put up a good fight.

I was more than ready for ST this evening. It had been a heavy couple of weeks and I felt like I wanted to lighten up a bit, laugh and play. ST was a bit tentative when he first arrived, but once he sensed that I was up for it, he certainly was as well.

Not sure how this revolting development, er, developed, but he decided that tonight, aside from a warmup with his hand and the Spanking Buddy, our entire scene would be with three wooden paddles. WTF? An all-wood night? What did I do to deserve this??

Nothing, at first. But I guess bombarding him with smartassery might have had something to do with it. It all started when he teasingly asked me if I thought he was being fresh, and I snapped, "No, I think you're rotten."

Several swats later, he asked, "Would you care to rephrase that?"

"Uh... you're day-old?"

"Are you saying I'm stale?"

"Well, that's better than rotten! Isn't it?"

Apparently not.

He paused in the paddling, going back to the Spanking Buddy for a bit. I took that opportunity to shove all the paddles off the bed onto the floor. This did not please him.

"You really think that's a good idea, throwing the toys on the floor?"

"I didn't throw them, I pushed them."

Tomato, tomahto.

He had this bizarre notion that the paddles were insulted and that I should apologize to them. Uh... no. Forget it.

Surprise, surprise, he didn't forget it, and did his damndest to convince me that I should apologize to the paddles, one by one.

"I'm not going to talk to a piece of wood!" I snapped. "I'm not a ventriloquist!"

"These paddles probably have cousins that are ventriloquist's dummies -- you just insulted them too!"

I told him that made absolutely no sense and the only person who would think it did was another top, because tops live on their own planet and have their own special logic. Then I added, "I think you're a ventriloquist's dummy."

Sometimes, I really am stupid. He whaled on me with one of those fuckers lovely paddles until I screeched, "OKOKOKI'MSORRY!" But I wasn't apologizing to the paddle, I was apologizing to ST for calling him a dummy.

"Are you ready to apologize to the paddle for throwing it on the floor?"

"I didn't throw it, I pushed it."

Yes, folks, this went on for quite some time. As you can see from the evidence:

And yet I kept my mouth running. Guess that's just where I needed to be, tonight. Laughing and being a wise-ass. Of course, I can't do that with just anyone. But with ST? He knows I love him. :-)

He never did get me to apologize to the paddles, you know. I flat-out refused. I did, however, apologize to him, and told him he could relay whatever message he chose to his little wooden friends.

But it's OK. I made peace with the paddles after all. Particularly the one he'd made for me. I am rather fond of that one. (But ssshhhhh, don't tell him.)

And all was well in my world once again...

Soothing me with lotion, he teased, "How long do I have to paddle you before you learn to behave yourself?"

"You won't live long enough," I murmured into the bedspread.

But I hope he never stops trying. :-)