That's not right! MF domestic play rl

Hey all,
I was looking over the recent poll I did, about what type of story y'all wanted to see, and my Husband took a look over my shoulder, as I tried to decide, since at the time, it was like a three way tie.
The He said that what he wanted to see posted was a real life, MF play. So, even though it didn't get any votes besides his, that is what I'm posting! (Hey, I'm slow, but not that slow!)
************************************************************************************
My husband quite often likes to pick out what I wear. But not in some slave master type of way. No, what he will do, quite often when I am in the shower, or having breakfast, is lay something out for me. Sometimes, it's the outerwear, sometimes it's the undies. But seldom both together, as he likes the surprise later when he undresses me and seeing how I completed the outfit.

This morning, all he had set out, before he took off for work, was a silk slip, full, lacy at the bottom, very retro and very sexy. I knew what type of mood HE was in, and I rapidly found myself in the same mood. He and I both love those pics that were done back in the fifties, there are whole series of them, showing MF very domestic scene spanking, with the dresses and slips and stockings.

Soooo, I got out my silk tap panties (what I understand you folks in the UK call French knickers...), something SO nice about the feel of how silk glides on silk. These had a nice fancy border of lace around the waist and legs, and were Just sheer enough to let him see my bottom when they moved against me just right. A nice matching bra, then stockings from Victoria's Secret, some of the nice holiday ones, with the little designs running up my legs. Then a nice full, above the knee skirted dress to go over the top, the kind of skirt that poofs and flys away in the wind and when you turn. Perfect. Then it was off to work for me.

I don't know about others, but for me, it's hard to concentrate when I know what kind of after work treat I have waiting for me when I get home. But I somehow made it through the day, and even made it home without speeding (well, without getting caught speeding, so it's the same thing.).

He was already there, and had a glass of wine out for me. I was sitting in his lap, taking a couple of drinks, simply Enjoying his masculine presence, his hard muscles, the bit of sweat from hard work. His rough calloused hands on my arms, and legs, and now going up my skirt. He got a BIG smile when he enountered my panties, seeing as they really don't get in the way of any exploring. I was whimpering and sighing into his neck and shoulder as he played with one hand, patting and starting to swat my fully clothed fanny with the other. I was melting, one big puddle, when he stops, and in his testosterone voice that is even deeper now, tells me to go to the kitchen and get the oven shovel.

Oh my oh yes! I kiss him, and scoot off to do what I'm told.

Now, the oven shovel (for good girl spankings anyways) is probably my favorite toy. Sometimes called a pizza shovel, it's long, broad, THIN, LIGHT, and makes the most delicious CRACK even as it doesn't give that big of bite, my type of toy. But, when I go to the kitchen where it hangs, MY oven shovel isn't there. Instead, in it's place is a DIFFERENT oven shovel! This one I see by the logo, is from the Papa Murphy's pizza chain, and I don't even have to pick it up (cause I had already at the pizza place a long time ago) to know it was a little longer, a little wider, a LOT thicker and a LOT heavier!

I just stood there, looking at it, when he called to me and told me to behave or else.

"But, but honey, that's not right! It's not MY shovel!"

My complaints aren't heeded, I'm simply told to bring THE oven shovel to him, now. Oh my. He obviously wanted to play a bit firmer than I had counted on, and now my mental equilibrium was all off balance, I was counting on one thing, and getting another. I slowwwllllyy brought it to him, and he told me I had been getting WAY to sassy with him lately, and it was time he showed me again who wore the pants in the family!

With that, he, still sitting on the couch, took the paddle, put it on the floor, and pulled me over his lap! But in that special way I like so much. My legs straddling his left leg, my body tucked under his left arm, supported by the couch, as my very hot, very wet, very swollen and ready little puss rubbed up and down against his leg!

Then the spanking started, WITH the paddle, and when I complained, he spanked me a couple of more times, and said if I was going to fuss so much, I didn't deserve to keep my skirt down! And so he slowly raised it up, well up my back, then smoothed the paddle over my fanny, as I squirmed and whimpered. With the next crack, over slip and panties, I squealed, that thing had a bite! He paced it out, letting me find the rythmn, letting me rock against him, and it felt good, but that paddle really Bit, and when I started fussing, well, my slip came up. You wouldn't think a thin little slip would be any protection, but it is, it really is, and the noise is, I dunno, more embarrassing also, now.

I'm gasping and squirming and squeaking and squealing, legs scissoring together, then starting to toe kick the floor, then flutter kicking the air, not conciously, it just happens, and he tells me I'm going to learn a Good lesson tonight, and I feel the tears start to build up in my eyes. Then my slip is gone, it's just my panties, and you think they don't help, till the paddle hits your lower fanny where they have ridden up and you are bare, and then you know they DO help! His left arm is wrapped around me, not so much to hold me, although he does that easily enough, but so he can play with my breasts and my pussy while he paddles me, and I want more and I want it to stop, but it doesn't really matter what I want, He's in charge, not me....

Then, when I'm pleading with him to stop, telling him I'll behave, that I'll be good, that I will be SO good to him in bed, ANYTHING he wants, my panties are slowly slid off while I protest and cry. He takes them all the way off, says he doesnt' want me to ruin this pair with my kicking (sometimes, well a lot of the times, he lets me kick my panties all the way off....) and then the paddle comes down over and over and over, and he is making me find HIS rythmn now, and I do, my hips pumping up and down faster, and it feels like I have sat on a stove, that surface burn you get from a paddling, but with the deeper burn/ache of a heavier toy. And between the spanking and his busy little fingers, I shatter into a million pieces, crying as I come. I come to, snuggled into his arms, bottom still bare, SO hot and SO red, and I'm so in love with him....

love,
Angie