Thursday, October 15, 2009

Dinner and a Spanking

When you pick me up for our usual Friday night dinner date, I am not my usual sweet and good natured self. I don't know why, but I had been in a mood all day. I try to act normal, but you can tell something isn't right, so you keep asking if everything's ok. This annoys me to no end and I get snappy with you. Then we get in the car and I start to pout because I wanted to go to my favorite sushi place, where we had been the last few times, but you want to try a new steak and seafood restaurant that your co-worker recommended, and insist on going there instead. We arrive and go inside; it's packed. The hostess informs us that it will be a 30-60 minute wait for a table. I'm not happy to hear that, I grumpily point out that there's never a long wait time at the sushi place. "Now baby that's enough, you always get to pick where we eat, and tonight I feel like trying something new. We're staying here and that's that. I'd appreciate it if you'd just knock off the attitude and enjoy it." "But I'm hungryyy." You just give me a look. "Fine." Finally we get seated. The waitress comes around to take our drink order; you order a beer and I order a glass of wine and some water with lemon. About 10 minutes later she hurriedly drops off our drinks. I notice that I have a plain glass of water. "Oh my god they never listen to me, she didn't bring me any lemon, I can't believe this always happens!" "Well honey they're pretty busy…" "Pfft this is just ridiculous," I pout. She comes back around to take our dinner order and I ask huffily if I could please get some lemon for my water. She apologizes and says she forgot, quickly returns with a dish of wedged lemons, I just roll my eyes. I hear you mutter something under your breath about how I don't seem to need anymore sourness tonight and I glare at you. Dinner arrives, everything smells great, and you seem very pleased with the steak you ordered. My shrimp pasta looks nice, but when I take a bite of the shrimp I don't think it's as good as when I cook it myself. I'm always very careful to cook the shrimp just enough so that it's moist and tender, and this shrimp is overdone. You see the irritated look on my face and ask what the problem is now. I tell you the shrimp is nasty, it has the texture of rubber. You raise an eyebrow and ask to try a bite. You declare that it's perhaps very slightly on the chewy side but tastes great and is certainly nowhere near to resembling rubber. "Knock off the attitude Lily, I'm warning you," you say quietly. Fuming that you didn't take my side, I flag down the waitress. I throw a fit about the shrimp and insist that she take it back and have them cook me a new one properly. Just as she's about to take it away you ask her the way to the restrooms and she gives you directions. The moment she's gone you jump up, grab my purse in one hand and my ear in the other, yank me up and drag me towards the bathroom. Shocked and mortified I demand to know what you think you're doing. "What I apparently should have done back at the house!" you whisper harshly into my ear as you pull me into a bathroom stall and straight over your knee. Quickly I feel my skirt flipped up and panties yanked down. I feel your hand begin to rain down several sharp smacks on my bottom and hear them ringing out and echoing against the bare tile walls. "Stop it! Are you crazy?? Somebody might hear!! I'm so embarrassed!" I cry. "I don't care if you're embarrased, you've done nothing but embarrass me since we got here. You've been acting like a spoiled little brat just because you didn't get your way for once. Well I've had it, if you're going to act like a child I'm going to take you out and spank you like one. If the waitstaff can hear this I'd be willing to bet that they're applauding," you lecture me as you continue to spank. I know I'm pushing it but I can't help myself, quietly I say, "But…but…the shrimp was overcooked…" "Young lady, the only thing that's going to be overcooked here tonight is your bottom!" you growl as you reach for my purse. You find the small oval wooden hairbrush that I always carry and you pull it out. "Daddy no, please don't spank me with that, it hurrrts!" "Lily, I warned you repeatedly didn't I? Well now you're going to get it." *WHACK* *WHACK* *WHACK* "Owwwwwie yes Daddy but I didn't think you'd actually spank me herrre! Pleeeease!" You continue spanking me until my bottom is bright red, sore, and tender, and I am squirming across your lap, sniffling and promising to be good. You stand me up in front of you and sternly inform me that I'll be getting a lot more when we get home, but for now we're going back out to enjoy the rest of our dinner in peace. "There will be no more whining, complaining, or rudeness, RIGHT?" "No Sir there won't," I say with a quivering lip. "And you're to apologize to our waitress. She has a very demanding job in a very busy restaurant and does not need more work and stress to be created by cranky customers, understood?" "But Daddy she…" "Lily!" "Yes Sir." "Alright, good. No more pouting, pull up your panties like a good girl." You give me a kiss, wipe my eyes, and walk me back to the table. My bad mood is gone and we do have a much more pleasant rest of our dinner, though I must enjoy it sitting on a sore bottom and anticipating the punishment still to come at home.


  1. Wow I really would hate to be you then. I can't believe HE("your Dad") would make you carry a hair brush. Most "Dads" use a belt.

  2. Lol well of course "Daddy" is a role play term and not literal. :-)