Non Negotiable

Babyman and I had a good evening with our students this past Wednesday. We have been coaching a young couple in ballroom dancing for their upcoming wedding, and if I may say so, we're pretty good teachers. We compliment each other beautifully as a team and coordinate our teaching styles to create a level of comfort and maximum comprehension. Their dance will be the crowning success of their reception as they foxtrot their way into their new lives with the elegant moves and styling techniques we instilled in them. After we said goodbye to them we hugged, high-fived and congratulated each other on our triumphant feat of magic that transformed an adorably clumsy mountain man into a graceful Gene Kelly. We sat down on the living room couch and laughed, mused, yapped and gossiped about the control and dexterity of a couple of kids that only a few weeks ago looked more like they were wrestling than dancing.

As the room became quiet and we basked in the glow of our own accomplishment, a tension began to fill the atmosphere. We both new what it was, and neither of us wanted to acknowledge the elephant in the room. I glanced at Babyman with a sad look on my face. I had almost forgotten. He didn't look happy either. Then he finally said in a serious voice, "I want you to go lock the door, then get the paddle and the bathbrush. Come back here and sit next to me with your panties around your ankles."

Shoot! We were having such a good time. I hesitated, searching my brain for something brilliant to say that might make him reconsider. Nothing was coming to me. I heard him say, "I would move now if I were you."

I bit my lip, rose, elegantly smoothed my dancing skirt, and walked out of the room. When I returned I handed him the implements he asked for, pulled my panties to my ankles and sat beside him.

"Do you understand why you're being punished, Sugar?"

Dammit, is this really necessary? Do they all ask the same question? I hate this part. Of course I understand. I'm not a moron... I'm just an idiot! I shifted my eyes away from him. "Yes. I made a commitment to board Bill's dog without discussing it with you."  Dogs make him nervous and uncomfortable. They make me, however, very happy.  Hence my hasty decision and disregard for the consequences.

"And you kept it from me how long?"

"Six days."

"Do you have any idea how embarrassed I'd be if I ran into Bill and found out that way?"

I shook my head. Suddenly that brilliant idea came to mind and my face suddenly brightened. "But on the upswing, he's paying me a hundred bucks." Babyman's always willing to listen to a good negotiation. "How 'bout if I... if I buy the spanking from you?"

"Excuse me?"

"I'll give you the hundred dollars, and we forget about the spanking," I said hopefully.

He stared at me for a moment like a deer caught in headlights, and for a split second I know I saw him trying to hide a smile. "I'm afraid it doesn't work that way," he said. "Let's just get this over with."

I draped myself over his lap where I had a perfect view of the paddle and bathbrush sitting on the arm of the couch. I watched helplessly as he grabbed them one by one and administered several painful smacks with each while lecturing me on disrespect and dishonesty. I heaved, bucked and kicked while I counted out one hundred swats... one for each dollar I'll make.