Losing Control

Barry and I had a wonderful weekend visiting with dear friends.  However, our drive home on Sunday was not what I would have asked for.  It started out lovely, with Barry and I having time to recollect the events of the weekend and how much we enjoy the other couple.  I was also teasing Barry quite a bit about whether or not I would release him from his cage and allow him some for of pleasure.  After all, it has been over a week since I locked him up again :-).

About an hour from home Barry received a text message related to work, which he read while he was driving.  I hate it when he does that and I reminded him of that fact.  To make matters worse, he decided he needed to reply immediately and began doing so.  I told him to stop and that he could dictate the response to me and I would send it for him from his phone.  However, of course, he thought he was fine and continued to do so.  Well, a truck in front of him blew a tire and immediately hit its breaks and was swerving.  Due to being engrossed in texting, Barry reacted more slowly and had to swerve to the right to avoid the truck.  Fortunately, we were in the far right lane.  However, while sweving, Barry lost control of our car and we went off the shower and down a small embankment where we became mired in wet grass and mud from last week's rain.  We were both OK, as was the car.  But, we were stuck.  An hour later, we were towed out of the muck and continued home.

As I'm sure you can imagine the rest of the ride home was very quiet.  I was steaming about his texting causing the incident, which could have easily been far worse than it was.  Since we were running later than planned, we stopped at a local favorite pub-style restaurant close to home and had a quick dinner.  When we arrived home and Barry had brought in our suitcase, I told him to get a shower and meet me in the bedroom.  He must have assumed that I had pleasurable things in mind for him, because he asked if I was going to join him in the shower to shave him (he was well overdue).  I couldn't believe it and responded with something like "Do you really think you are going to enjoy any pleasure tonight after the dumb-ass move you pulled to text while driving and almost getting us killed?  No!  I'm not going to join you in the shower, but you are correct that you need to be shaved.  You will do it yourself, but with your cage on.  Get every place you can and your bottom had better be as smooth as a baby's butt, because that what I want to see when I punish it tonight.  Your are in for a serious punishment paddling."

When Barry joined me in the bedroom, our pillows were in a pile in the center of the bed.  Four of his old ties that I use to secure him to the bedposts were tied to the posts, ready for his wrists and ankles. And, our lexan paddle was on top of the pillows.  The look on Barry's face was priceless.  I had never tied him to the bed face down, but it was obvious what I planned to do that night.  I told him to remove his panties (the only thing he was wearing) and lie over the pillows.  As he did so, I placed the lexan paddle in front of his face and secured his ankles and wrists.  The pillows nicely elevated his newly shaven bottom.    Once he was secured, I used my finger tips to admire his handiwork and told him that I was going to enjoy applying the lexan to his entire bottom and upper thighs.    He immediately began to apologize and beg for forgiveness, but I wasn't going to have any of it.  In a way, I was probably a bit out of control, because I was still very mad at him for what he had done.  This would be the first time I punished him in a state of anger.

When I took the paddle and began to tap Barry's bottom, it was obvious that he was frightened.  I didn't give him an warm up, but I also didn't beat him with it.  However, I did methodically apply firm strokes at an even pace that worked their way up and down his freshly shaved bottom.  It didn't take him long to begin to holler, at which time I took his panties and stuffed them in his mouth with the instruction to take his punishment quietly or it would be much worse.  Throughout the paddling I berated his stupidity and kept reminding him how upset and mad I was that he could have killed both of us.  I really don't have any idea how many strokes I gave him, but I know his bottom was extremely red and somewhat bruised when I stopped.  I told him to lie there and think about what he had done until I came back. 

I went into the family room and cooled down a bit.  I also decided I wasn't quite done.  After about 15 minutes I returned to the bedroom and told Barry that he had been punished for texting while driving and almost killing us.  However, I also informed him that he was now going to be punished for not following my directive to stop texting and let me send the text for him.  I told him he would receive 25 more strokes of the lexan.  By now, I was very calm and in control.  I administered them firmly  and slowly, so he could feel the full impact of each one.  When I was done, I released him from his bindings and took him in my arms.  We hugged and kissed and he knew he was forgiven.  However, there were clearly tears in his eyes.

We haven't talked about the punishment since that night.  However, it is clear that his bottom is still very sore and tender.  I don't think he will make the same mistake again.  I also hope that I will never punish him in anger again.

Susan