I Love it When...

... we're sitting in the living room after dinner.  I'm watching a movie on TV, and BabyMan is reading a book in the overstuffed easy chair.  I glance over at him to find that he is already looking at me, lovingly at first, then a bit lecherously with a wicked grin that makes my eyebrows jump.

"What are you looking at?" I snipe mockingly.

"You." His smile broadens and his head cocks to the side. "When was the last time I spanked you?"

Uh oh... where's he going with this? "Three days ago, you beast."

He looks up at the ceiling to refresh his memory. It takes a moment, but the scene suddenly comes back to him in a wave of humor. He chuckles. "Oh yeah. You left the closet door open again." Suddenly there's a cold determination in his eye, his smile plastered on his face like an escapee from an asylum. "Well it seems to me that you're overdue."

Ah, so you want to play, huh? I had been here many times before. I point a shaky finger at him and narrow my eyes. "You stay away from me!"

He snaps the book shut. "Go get the paddle."

"No!" I observe a genuine look of surprise on his face. "You want to spank me, I'll be damned if I'm going to help you. You do your own dirty work."

The book drops to the floor and he's suddenly on his feet. Instinctively I rise and back away around the couch. My eyes are locked with his, resolute in my defiance. I note that his grin has disappeared, replaced with a stoned faced demeanor.

"Do not make me chase you, SugarAnne."

I fold my arms and jut out my chin trying desperately to keep from smiling. "I'll make you do whatever I want you to do."

That does it. He heads to the hallway that leads to the bedroom as I quickly move to the other side of the dining room table. He returns in a moment, not with the paddle, but with the bath brush that I hate so much. I laugh nervously. "Oh, you gotta be kidding me!"

"Come here," he demands

"Kiss my ass!"

He slaps the brush against the palm of his hand. "Oh, I'm going to kiss it all right," he growls.

I'm getting nervous. He makes a quick motion around the dining room table, and I counter by shooting to the other side.

"I'm not going to chase you, Sugar," he says calmly.

"HA!" I point that shaky finger at him again. "I'll tell you what you're not going to do. You're not going to get me to hand you my butt on a silver platter. You want it so bad, you're going to have to work for it."

I'm scared, because I know that once he catches me it's going to hurt. I'm excited and I'm hyper because my blood is racing through my veins. I'm laughing, animated, thrilled, aroused... nervous. I gave him a challenge that he'd never be able to turn down. There was no way out now, and the more I elude him, the worse it was going to be for me in the end. But dammit, the least I can do is make him put some effort into it.

He lunges at me again, and I scurry around the marble island that separates the kitchen from the living room. To my surprise he keeps moving, and I skillfully dashed to the other side. He stops and attempts a fake out by changing directions... and I brilliantly anticipate his every move. I'm faster than him, more agile, better reflexes. He doesn't have a chance... until he decides to use his head instead of his feet. There's a small space between the kitchen island and the living room couch, and I have to go through it to circle the island again. He walks over to the dining room table, grabs a couple of chairs and begins to construct a barricade in that space to impede my escape. I'm trapped.

My shaky finger juts out again. "NO! NO! that's not fair! You're not playing fair!"

His voice is eerily calm and scary. "I'm not playing... at all," he says, smiling that creepy smile that is sending an icy chill up my spine. I watch helplessly as he stacks the chairs high, putting the finishing touch on his makeshift enclosure. There's nowhere to go. My heart is pounding through my rib cage as I watch him look back at me with all the charm of Jack Nicholson in the Shining. "You've got one last chance to come to me... and maybe I'll take it easy on you," he says. I think for a moment as my eyes jet around the room assessing the situation.

"Well?"

Again I defiantly lock my eyes with his.  The words come out of my mouth sounding to me like a distorted recording running on slow speed. "Bite me!" I say.

A broad grin engulfs his face as though he were hoping I'd say that. He suddenly dashes around the island... and I, in a mad and brilliant move go for the gold as I sprint to the other side, and in a move reminiscent of The great Wilma Rudolph, hurdle over the couch as though I have wings on my back and rockets on my feet.  I gracefully land on the other side and disappear down the hall and into the bathroom where I lock myself in..

As I lean against the towel bar to calm my breathing, I can hear BabyMan laughing uproariously on the other side of the door. "THAT WAS BEAUTIFUL!" he howls with delight.

I begin to giggle uncontrollably as I listen to him describe in admiration my ballet like leap over the furniture to a well earned freedom. I open the door, and we laugh together for almost a full minute as our knees buckle and we sink to the floor in convulsive hysteria.

After a while I notice that I'm the only one laughing. I feel a strong hand clamp down on my wrist like a steel handcuff and lift me to my feet. "GOTCHA!" I'm dragged unceremoniously back into the living room where I an up ended over the back of the couch, fingers slip inside my waistband and pull my shorts and panties down around my knees.

"NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!!!"

"Your soul may belong to Jesus, but your behind is mine!" he says joyfully as he wraps his arm around the small of my back. The first smack of the bath brush is horrendous! My screaming, wiggling and kicking are ignored as the wood smacks at my flesh over and over again. I hear him chuckling as he burns my behind with unbridled enthusiasm.

"You bastard!" I blurt out as I attempt to cover my behind with my hands.

"I'm sorry, what did you just call me?" WHACK, WHACK,WHACK...

What am I doing? think fast! "I said, bahstid. It's an Armenian word. it means loved one!"

"Liar!" WHACK, WHACK, WHACK...

"This hurts!" I squeal as I feel tears gather at the corners of my eyes.

"Good. It's supposed to hurt."

I hate it when he says that! My butt is on fire, the begging and pleading isn't working, so I have to start negotiations. "What do you want? I'll give you anything you want if you'll just stop!"

"Really?" he says as the paddling stops to hear my offer. "What'dya got?"

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?"

BabyMan steps back admiring his handy work for a moment and then... "Go get in bed and wait for me."

I slowly stand up and reach down for my pants.

"Leave the pants where they are," he says.

I wipe the moisture from my eyes and start to move as dignified as possible toward the bedroom with my pants and panties at my knees . I turn my head to find him with that stupid grin on his face watching my exposed buttocks waddle away . "I hate you, you know," I whisper as I try desperately to keep a serious face.

"I know baby," he answers. "But before the day is out... you'll love me again."