Moodiness changes everything, but breaking a wooden spatula after a spanking mends a relationship

My guy and I had talked about meeting on Friday for some quality time in the treehouse. I had been looking forward to it all week.

Things took a bit of an unexpected nosedive.

My guy rarely logs on to Skype these days. For the past two Fridays, whenever he needed to cancel our meeting or reschedule it, he would do it on Skype. He logged on at around noon. I just knew that he wanted to cancel.

I dislike when he starts off by saying hi and the regular pleasantries that we go through. I then asked him flat out whether he was bored at work or if he had other thoughts that he wanted to share. He told me that he was in a "blah mood" and that we would "probably not meet." I was disappointed.

I told him that I knew that he would be cancelling, as he had logged on to Skype. He joked that he should break more good news on Skype. He told me not to be upset. It was too late. I was.

I decided to log off. I felt taken for granted that I am always on Skype and that he is the one who ends up changing his mind. It annoyed me.

I got to work at 14:30. I could tell that he was trying to test out the waters. He asked how I was doing. I just said that I was okay. It was clear that I didn't feel like talking to him. He tried to get me to talk about the lack of parking spaces available at work in the afternoon. I had little to say.

My guy fell asleep at his cubicle, but he did hear my talking to another colleague. I told her that she was cheering me up. I also took a dig at him when he was awake, saying that it's sometimes better not to plan anything, or one gets disappointed when plans change unexpectedly.

To take my guy's point of view, he was being kind in telling me that he wasn't in the mood for a meeting. But, it was several hours away. It seemed pretty premature to me to cancel so far in advance.

He has also been sleepy for the past few days. He doesn't know why that is. He's not preoccupied or anything. On Wednesday, he fell asleep at his cubicle. I took a picture of him using my cell phone. I did the same thing on Friday.

So, at around 17:30, my guy wrote to me on Skype. Our cubicles are so close to each other that it's almost odd to communicate by instant messaging. He asked if I was still mad. I was perturbed. He wanted to change his mind. I asked why he wanted to do that. He wanted the meeting. I told him that I wasn't in the mood for our regular meeting. I was okay with talking, though.

My guy gets nervous about talking. We did. I told him that he tends to schedule everything because it's convenient for him on his own terms. All I do is wait. I'm just there. I'm tired of it. He thought that I was upset that we weren't meeting as often as I would like. That wasn't my problem.

I went on to say that it was a pattern that he cancels on Fridays. He disagreed. What I should have said was that it's what I see because I am far more intuitive than he gives me credit for. In the end, he said, "Fair enough." I asked him whether he still wanted to meet, although I wasn't exactly in the mood anymore. He did. We ended up smiling at each other.

I had my black lacy panties on. I didn't feel like putting on a skirt. My guy looked at me and said that I "looked the same." I could tell that he wanted to see me in a skirt, but his mood had wrecked mine.

We drove to our spot. I handed him the wooden spatula and said that he needed to use it today before I got into the treehouse.

I could tell that we both didn't like where our conversation was headed. The way that he was rubbing my fingernails said everything. He said that it was okay for me to initiate treehouse meetings. He told me not to be on Skype all the time if I didn't want to. He embraced me tightly in his arms.

"I am sorry for being so moody, which ruined everything," he admitted.
"What are you sad about?" I asked him.
"Nothing in particular," he stated. "I woke up this way."

His right hand moved over to my butt. He first caressed it. He then began to grope it.

"I like that," I said, enjoying his hands over my jean-clad bottom.
"I like grabbing your butt," he said.

A few moments later, he told me that it was time for my spanking.

"Do you know why I need to spank you?"
"No," I said, playing dumb.

He shifted his position to the centre of the backseat. I went over his lap.

"I have to spank you because you don't say no," he explained, pinching my bottom and the massaging my clit.

The first smack with his hand landed on my left buttock. He then alternated between cheeks. He got a couple of hard pinches in, too.

The hand smacks came down harder and more frequent when he got into the groove.

"You have been bad for not wearing a short skirt. You always need to have a short skirt with you, either in your purse or in the trunk of your car."
"You didn't want to meet today, so I didn't bother," I said.
"That is the wrong response," he replied, continuing to smack my backside, except he was using the wooden spatula. "You always need to wear a short skirt for me. Do you understand?"
"No," I said defiantly, looking at his black Rockport shoes while still over his knee.
"No? You think that you have a say in this?"
"Yes," I did, challenging him to spank me.
"I tell you what to do," he stated sternly.

He used the wooden spatula hard on my backside. He likes smacking the backs of my thighs and calves with it. I was incredibly turned on by how hard he was spanking me.

His right hand went down the back of my jeans and under my black lacy panties. He knew that I was wet when he fingered my pussy. He then fingered my ass and was pleasuring me.

"Are you going to behave?" he asked me.
"No!"
"Yes, you will," he replied, using his other hand to smack my buttocks with the wooden spatula.
"No!"
"Yes!"
"No!" 

I started to giggle. My guy likes when I giggle and equates it to my being ticklish.

"Is your butt ticklish?" he asked me.
"No," I replied. "Our yes-no conversation is making me chuckle."

I have never laughed while being spanked. There is a first for everything.

I eventually came while over his lap. It was wonderful. I was so limp afterwards. I could barely get myself off his lap.

We kissed. It felt good.

"Touch my cock," he ordered, but it was more like a request.
"Maybe," I teased. I waited ten seconds before I did it. It was hard as can be.

After playing with his erect penis while kissing, he unfastened his belt, and pulled down both his grey trousers and blue briefs. His penis greeted me, erect as ever. It was nice to see how turned on he was. I gave him a handjob.

He told me to talk dirty to him. I told him that I was a whore, and that I wanted to be spanked and screwed by him in every possible way. I was his sex toy and was eager to please him. I told him that I wanted to be slapped around. He caressed my chin before he lightly smacked my right cheek a few times. That did it. Soon after that, he came all over my hand.

I helped him clean up. He sat there in dopey mode, which I loved seeing.

"I am glad that you changed your mind [about meeting today]," I said to him.
"I am glad that I did, too."

I told him that I had taken two pictures of him sleeping at work. He took the news well and said that he would behave. I indicated that I wouldn't blackmail him. I'd use it for our role-playing sessions instead. He wanted to see them. I said that after I have made copies of the pictures, that I'd share them with him. He laughed.

Although I feared that his moodiness earlier, which had affected my mood, may have altered our relationship, it looks like we'll be okay. I asked if he was okay. He was. He reciprocated with the same question. I was, too.

He showed me the wooden spatula. It had split. For the second time, we have broken a spanking implement.

"You have a hard ass," he joked.

We made it through the brief storm. It's nice how a meeting can fix things. I also like coming out of our meetings with a sore backside.