The Tale of Two Spankings (Spanking One)

So I had a couple of miserable weeks, frustrated to the hilt with clicking on "No" buttons to the very tiresome question, "Are you eligible to work in the UK?" Added to the mix I had to deal within my work environment with the antics of Stavros the Kebab man (as Uncle Nick re-named him for me) and Slithering Stallion (my name for Stavros' boss). Between the two of them, their political talents had come fully to the fore, with no shortage of idiotic rhetoric being uttered and the abundance of self-righteous egos that will even put the most hardened narcissist to shame.

In these very adverse conditions, I was supposed to diet. Please note that the emphasis is on "supposed". For three weeks running, I have been busy on a full time basis, to remove knifes out of my back but in the process, I re-entered the horrible world of comfort eating. On receiving hostile emails, I would see bowls of ice cream, the continuous rant and rave sessions in my office mostly brought forth visions of huge slices of chocolate cake, and calls made to me after hours in order to have hissy fits, would make me dream of lemon meringue tarts.

Mr Sparkles, the Diet Disciplinarian himself was rather busy as well over this period, and well, given the free reign of no actual consequences, it became easier for me to ignore the diet and to opt for more “rewarding” food choices. However, this all came to a screeching halt on Monday. I received a very curt email from the man himself stating that penalties will now be incurred for weigh-in records submitted late, and attached was a very clear cut-off time stipulated.

It was with a very heavy heart, and clenching bottom, that the latest weigh-in result was submitted. Although I did manage to lose weight in the three-week period, I was not at the target weight set out. I think it is important to note at this stage, that Uncle Nick also took it upon himself, to supply Mr Sparkles with a brand new rattan cane, sent all the way from the UK.

Yesterday was the day of reckoning, and with my bottom bared, I was about to receive the punishment as determined, twelve strokes with the brand new cane and twenty two smacks from the bath brush. He did rather take quite a delight to deliver the smacks with the bath brush in a rapid two beat tattoo, which had my bottom stinging like it never stung before. The strokes of the cane were in its own league, and at one o’clock yesterday afternoon, I was the owner of a very warm, tender and red bottom...

However, this is not the end of the tale...or the suffering of my bottom either. I had another appointment at six that afternoon, which is another story for tomorrow. Nevertheless, for the interim, please note, that today there has been no diet cheating whatsoever, and I even did my exercises...but my ability to sit was severely hampered, in fact, I downright avoided it today and will most likely do the same tomorrow as well.