State Troopers

S and T are for State Troopers...specifically, Alaskan State Troopers.

I've always had a thing for men in uniform.  A man in uniform equals a man with authority, and going over the hood of a policeman's car as punishment for my crimes is on my bucket fantasy list.

Yes, officer, I broke the law.

I discovered a gem of a show the other day called Alaska State Troopers, and I'll say that I suddenly have a strong urge to visit Alaska and break the law.  There are some very attractive men in uniform enforcing laws in Alaska, and I spent several hours watching, mesmerized, as they wasted all of their authoritative finesse on stupid criminals.

Honey, I've had a hard day, now over my knee.

I think an Alaska State Trooper would fall quite naturally into a dominant position at home, but I suppose that's not necessarily true.  Maybe someone who spends hours and hours ordering lawbreakers around doesn't want to come home and order his wife around.  If that's the case, then it's good I'm not married to one.  I can still fantasize, though!

Alaska here I come!

Forgetting the Loneliness

My husband is a reservist in the army (he is stunning in a uniform, ladies ;), and this means that one weekend per month, he is gone.  I really don't like it when he has drill, because he gets up and leaves at 4:30 am and doesn't come home until around 8:30 pm, and then tries to go to bed by 9:00 pm.  And even if you suck at math, you can deduct that this schedule leaves no time for spanking his lovely wife, let alone spending time with her.

I spent a lonely Saturday today, mostly watching the more obscure Olympic sports, relishing every new comment on my blog, and thinking back on yesterday's impromptu spanking:

We are getting a new car because someone totaled our other one (not my fault!), and yesterday evening we were printing and making copies of all the necessary paperwork.  I was not particularly excited about the whole process and was on the couch with my computer and my warm, fluffy cat curled up on my lap.

He told me, "Babe, I need you to go get the copies from the printer."  (We have a wireless printer that sits in an unused room of our house, so, when printing anything, one must get up and go into said room.)

"OK, I'll get them in a minute, the cat is sleeping," I said, as if this were some sort of rarity for a cat.

As soon as I said I would get them, I promptly forgot about the request, and continued doing whatever I was doing.

Several minutes later, "Babe, where are the copies?!"

"Oh...I forgot, I'll go get them," I pushed a disgruntled cat to the floor and went to the office.  I am notorious for forgetting things, and I chuckled at my husband, like it was same ol' same ol' for me.

As I stepped out of the office, he snatched me up with one arm, bent me over the other, and yanked down my pants and panties.

He then proceeded to assault my bottom with sharp, stinging smacks, taking my breath away at the suddenness of it all.

"When I tell you to do something, you do it, young lady.  You got that?"

"Yes, sir," I replied, breathlessly.  He spanked me several more times, then pulled up my pants with a reminder that I should honor his requests right away, lest I forget what they are several seconds later.

It was short and delectably harsh, but a spanking like that makes a girl forget the loneliness for at least a couple hours.