Cigarettes and Paddles: 4th of July Fun

"I promise you, Bonnie-jo, if you ever take a single draw from a cigarette, I will blister your bottom."

College Guy had promised me this months ago, and I don't remember how the subject even began. I hate cigarettes and have only tried them once or twice. I've never had the urge to want to like them. I'm never going to like them. I felt it was a useless threat. It would never deter me from anything, and I'd probably never even use it to get a good hard spanking. 

While we were still living apart, I once told College Guy "I almost smoked a cigarette today just so that you would know that I am not a good person and just so that I you could plan a horrible spanking for my future." He understood how I felt, how I needed him to tell me that he didn't expect me to be perfect, how I needed the assurance of hard spankings for the future. But I resisted the temptation to smoke just to spite my good judgment. Just for the thrill of it. 

Fast forward to a 4th of July celebration with friends more than a week ago.. Add a pool table, some low lights, R&B, and about 5 random mixed drinks in each of our systems, just buzzing away. We all laugh, shoot pool, talk, and sip on our 6th random mixed drinks. And alcohol, as usual, makes me feel super excited and super depressed all at once. One of our friends, a dude, tells College Guy and I that we have something he wishes he had, that we are good people, awesome friends. I don't like being put on a pedestal. This and other random emotions swirl around in my head, and  before I know it, I'm reaching for the half-smoked cigarette this friend of ours had propped against the ashtray.

I had forgotten College Guy or his threat. My only thought was that I had drunk too much and I was so sleepy. There was no coffee in sight, so I figured a nicotine high might help. The cigarette was halfway to my mouth when out of nowhere (or so it seemed, for I had forgotten he was sitting right next to me) College Guy appeared, grabbed my arm and plucked the cigarette from my fingers. He stuck it back in the ashtray and bit out these words, "What do you think you are doing? Do we need to go home right now?"

"Huh?" Was my only reaction. And then I realized what I had done.

"I'm sorry...."

"You will be."

We were visiting family so we stayed in a hotel the next night. There was no time for a spanking as we were  with family, chatting and hanging out. The next morning however, College Guy set his alarm so that he could wake up when I came out of the shower. Once again, I must have been taking too long for his stern approval, because he barged into the bathroom and the tub and told me that I had been in there long enough and to get out.

And then followed a not-fun spanking.

"Do you want me to get dressed first?" I asked him meekly after toweling dry from the shower.

"No."

"I didn't think you would."

He put me in the corner for a little while, but once again, since we were on a time schedule because we were traveling back home, the corner time didn't last too long.

The hand spanking made me cringe. Hand spankings are usually one of  two things: sexy/hot, or foreboding/predicting. And once in awhile, they just plain hurt in a very unexpected way. This one hurt and was foreboding.

I was  paddled, hair brushed, sorority paddled, and bath brushed. We thankfully had not brought the cane, but College Guy had promised he'd cane me later when we got home. I never cried. It wasn't that kind of spanking. It was over with soon enough, and we had to get going and check out of the hotel. I felt duly punished though. I think my favorite part was really the worst part of the spanking---I believe it was when he was using the sorority paddle. That thing hurt so much, and I kept popping up and wiggling from my stretched out position on the bed. And he kept securing me with his hand on my back. Pushing me back down. Putting me exactly where he wanted me. And then paddling, paddling, paddling.

We packed up all our stuff and rushed out the door to meet more family for a quick breakfast before more traveling. As we carried our suitcases down the outdoor steps to the ground level, we passed a cleaning lady and man with their cart of supplies.

We were opening the doors to College Guy's car when we heard a shout from behind. We spun around and lo-and-behold, the guy who had gone into our room to clean it was waving our maple, circular paddle from the top of the stairs.

Ahhhhhhh!!!!

"Oh, hey, thanks," I shout out to the man. Then I run towards the balcony of the stairs as the man begins to crouch down and try to hand the paddle through the metal rungs to me. I vaguely hear College Guy muttering something about "Just dropping it" behind me.

I reach as quickly as possible up while the man reaches down, and within seconds, I have our paddle. Cheeks aflame, I say, "Thank you so much."



"At least it will make a good blog post." College Guy consoles. Yeah, I suppose it might.