She was asleep when he came home. He was early and she had laid down for a nap. She awakened to feel his hand stroking her face.

She should have sat up immediately, but she was enjoying the feeling and still drowsy. The hand moved to her right nipple, pinching it hard. The left nipple received the same treatment and she sat up quickly.

He nodded, took her by the wrist and, without a word, led her to the spare bedroom. He had converted it into their private play room. He went directly to what they called the spanking coach. It was really a love seat, with overstuffed arms that she had often bent over. He sat on the couch and gestured to the floor in front of him.

Quickly, she knelt, knees slightly open, hands resting palms down on her thighs. At one time, she might have thought he planned to use her mouth, but she knew that was not even a possibility now.

He leaned toward her, holding a spinner in his hands. A spinner like the ones that came in board games, but he had this one specially made. It was numbered from 5-15. He held it out to her and she spun the pointer. Watching carefully as it flew round and round, slowing gradually, landing on 10. She breathed a tiny sigh of relief; it could have been worse.

That spinner was replaced by another and again, he silently invited her to spin it. The numbers went from 1-5 on this one, and again she was relieved when the pointer landed on 3.

Some toys – impact toys – were already laid out on the end table. A short leather strap, a flip flop, a small wooden paddle, a wooden spoon, and a hairbrush. She watched him select the strap and the paddle, placing them on the couch next to hem.

He considered this a game they played together, although she was not sure she could be considered a player. She thought of herself as another piece on the game board.

He nodded at her again and she rose as gracefully as she could and bent over his lap. He had placed himself so that she could lay her head and most of her upper body on the couch, her feet touched the ground on the other side of his legs.

She realized that she would not be able to see the timer, which was on the end table with the toys he had not chosen. She was never sure if she liked it when she could see the time count down or not. And it didn’t matter what she preferred, of course.

He called the game Interruption. He had explained that sometimes he just wanted to spank her. She wasn’t in trouble, it wasn’t maintenance or necessarily supposed to be sensual or fun. He just wanted to spank her.

The rules were very clear. Any time he had the urge to spank her in this way, he would find her and interrupt whatever she was doing. No words were to be exchanged. He simply led her to the spanking couch.

The first spinner determined the length of the spanking, always between 5 and 15 minutes.

The second spinner determined how many impact toys would be used. The first implement was almost always his hand, the others were his choice. The time was divided equally among the toys.

She was brought back to the present by his hand on her bottom. Quickly, she placed both hands on top of her head, keeping them well out of the way.

He tapped each cheek a few times, and then there was a moment’s pause – she held her breath – and the hand landed, fairly hard, on one cheek. He landed a series of medium blows next, alternating cheeks, until both sides were nicely pink. This was a lovely warm-up. Stinging slightly but not really hurting much. She allowed herself a moan or two of pleasure.

HIs hand continued, hitting different rhythms now, twice on each side, three times, back to one at a time. She was never sure where the next one would land. The blows were much stingier, although the pain faded pretty quickly. She was still mostly enjoying it, and noticed that if he slowed down a bit, she was pushing her bottom up, clearly wanting more.

When the first 3 minutes were up, he raissed his knee, which lifted her bottom, giving him easy access to her sit spots, which and been mostly neglected til now. Four hard swats on each side, and she cried out, partly in surprise, partly at the increased sting.

Then he reached for the strap. She usually liked the strap – well, as much as you can like anything that could leave welts on your bottom. But there was something about it that she liked. Tonight, he landed it across her sit spots immediately and she cried out again, bucking a little bit, struggling to keep her hands in place. Four times it landed on the sit spots, the strap just long enough to catch both cheeks at the same time.

Then he switched to her upper thighs and she wiggled and squirmed, moaned and gasped. It seemed to take a long time and both thighs and sit spots were burning when he switched to the middle of her cheeks. That was such a relief, and felt so much better, that her moans became sounds of pleasure and she was pushing her bottom up again.

Of course, just as she settled into that, he switched again, concentrating on the sit spots until she was almost crying. Back to mid cheek, til she almost settled into pleasure, then her thighs again.

She was so grateful when he stopped – she had forgotten the small wooden paddle was next. The strap had left welts, and the impact of the paddle over the welts was just too much. She was about to begin begging when she remembered that no words were allowed. The penalty might be starting the time clock over again and that was to be avoided.

As the paddle covered her puffy and sore bottom, she cried out with inarticulate sounds and gasps, kicking her legs until the paddle landed lower on her thighs, a clear warning. Holding still was so hard, but that was what pushed her into the right head space to receive this spanking. She tipped over the edge and her body relaxed, opening and accepting the pain, willingly submitting to her beloved Dom.

She did not know how much longer the spanking lasted, but she was no longer struggling and she was aware of her own arousal, the heat between her legs, her longing to take him in her mouth and please him the best she could.

When the timer finally dinged, he stopped, and laid down the paddle. Feeling his hand caressing her bottom, squeezing it gently, increased her arousal almost more than she could stand, and she wished with all her heart that she was allowed to serve him now – and maybe to be played with a bit herself.

Instead, he raised her off his lap and let her rest on her knees while he tidied up. Then, having put away the other game pieces, he helped her stand and led her back to the bedroom.

She lay down, still without a word. He smiled at her as he took her wrists and fastened them to the cuffs attached to the bed post. They were secured loosely enough that she could finish her nap comfortably, but not loosely enough that she could touch her own wet, throbbing pussy.

He pulled the sheet over her, kissed her forehead, reset her alarm for the rest of her nap, and left the room, closing the door behind him.