One of my duties is to keep Hannah’s wardrobe in order. Handwash her lingerie (which is great fun), wash and iron her clothes and, as it happens, polish her black leather winter boots.
When she came home today I could not help her off with her boots but I could see that they needed first cleaning and then polish and, after and hour or two letting the polish sink into the leather, a good hand brushing and buffing. We are out of black polish – on to the list it goes – but we have neural. It is the simplest thing in the world to first gently clean the boots with a moist cloth and then, having dried them, slather on the polish. I only did the lower part of the boot today. Next week or the week after I will do the entire boot.
As I applied and rubbed in the polish I thought of my whipping this morning. I had a few demerits to work off. An unauthorized stop at a pub yesterday when I was running errands, a meeting with a young woman which I had thought I had told Hannah about but apparently had forgotten, a duty or two neglected.
In all, nothing too terrible but I knew this mornings’ whipping would be more than pure maintenance. Happily, or perhaps not, I had found Hannah a lovely long bit of rattan pretending to be a flagpole. The kids got the flag, Hannah got a good, 3/16 inch thick. 30 inch, cane.
I had also found a very simple Le Senza black shift. Hannah had been wanting me to abandon my jockies and a t-shirt sleep attire and I wanted something a bit more in keeping with my position. This was perfect.
A good rule for men instructed to buy something a bit more feminine is that simplicity is your friend. So is extra room but this was XL so while it was not roomy, it was not silly either.
I slept beautifully. Hannah was very tired and left me hard rubbing her back. I woke up just as hard. It has been five days since I was last allowed to masturbate myself and at least two weeks since Hannah has required my services or attention. This is very normal. I will write about cycles in another post.
Hannah came up with coffee and, as I lay in position, fetched the new cane. I was trembling a little bit in anticipation.
Polishing her boots I could still feel the little, jagged, tingle of where Hannah had brought the cane home. It was wonderful and I will write about the caning itself in detail a bit later. What was even more wonderful was knowing how well loved and completed I was by this subtle, delightful woman. And how much I loved her and loved to serve her and be corrected by her. It adds a whole other dimension to what was already a glorious love story.