Teach me a lesson

There it was. Perfect. Erect and staring straight at me out of its basket on the floor—

A bunch of old-fashioned wooden rulers – the kind from the fifties when blotchy-skin nuns used them to smack schoolgirls over their little knuckles. Punishment for saying the Lord’s name in vain.

I thought how apt. To use such a ruler to make The One say the lord’s name (and mine) in vain over and over again until her firm ass cheeks were the colour of blood. Until she was crying as hard as I did when I found out how many women she had been with since I left. It would be one powerful spank for each woman. I’d make her cry out their names. I’d make her repent.

Tattooed at the back of its wooden body were the words: “TEACH ME A LESSON”. I imagined her body bent over a desk, school skirt lifted above her ass, looking back at me, her eyes sparkling with fake innocence and her lips saying those words. Teach me a lesson.

The scene was gorgeous. My exquisite The One dressed in school uniform, myself as headmaster with suit, silicone hard-on and brogues (a realistic touch. Plus they’re so fashionable right now and I want a pair). My clit twitched, sending shockwaves to my toes. Such inspiration from a simple ruler. I had to have it.

“See anything you like?” asked the sexy shop assistant at Coco de Mer (the Prada of sex shops). I come here often because it’s like a sensual oasis when my sex life becomes a desert. They install sexy helper ladies in there on purpose so that you never want to leave and you buy pornographic comic books for 20 quid (I have two) and leather blindfolds for 160 pounds!

“I’d like the ruler please. It’s for spanking, right?” I asked, trying not to make eye contact because then I’d start to stutter or I’d buy another comic book.

“Those are actually novelty gifts. If you spank someone with that ruler it will really hurt,” she said trying to make eye contact. Damn her.

But wasn’t that the point? To make it hurt till the tears streamed down her face.

“I’ll take one thanks. Will you gift wrap it for me?”

I sent it back home to The One with a note telling her she could stare at it till I got back and imagine what I’d do to her with it. Because she needs to hurt so she can learn, and she needs to know how much I care. She was with someone else. And she has to pay. 

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Read more about Astrid and Fluffy.