Thursday, September 6, 2012

Cold fish and chilly cauliflower

Hey all,

I find inspirations for quick little stories everywhere. I don't know about you, but my mind comes up with dialog from the stranges of things, such as this quick story concerning cauliflower. Enjoy!


Good things almost never happen when I am bored. Being bored and in the kitchen is often a dangerous combination.


I was home alone after a less than stimulating day at work, answering mundane questions to people who really shouldn’t be allowed near a piece of electrical equipment. I knew Greg, my boyfriend, would be home an hour later, leaving to me the task of making us something to eat.

I sat on the couch, looking up recipes which would rid us of the over abundance of cauliflower that was starting to turn in our fridge. Idly, between a picture of lemon slices and bacon bit covered cauliflower and a casserole covered in cheese was a platter of steamed cauliflower covered in saran wrap. The plastic food covering popped a strange idea I had been meaning to try for some time.

Taking the box of plastic wrap from a kitchen drawer, I made my way up the stairs stealthily for no particular reason as the cat was the only witness to the crime and he was not likely to rat on me. Stretching the plastic wrap over the door of our bedroom, I taped it to the side of the door frame on both sides before stepping back to survey my handy work. From the get go, I had major doubts that this would work but I had seen enough youtube videos to prove its effectiveness as a practical joke. The cat sat beside me, meowing loudly at the plastic which was now suspended face high on the door frame.

I picked up the box of plastic wrap and returned it to the drawer. Grinning, I set about the task of cutting up the cauliflower and decided that the cheese sauce was the way to go. Greg liked cheese sauce and would placate any ill feelings.

I had almost finished baking the fish and cauliflower in the oven when I heard the car pull in to the driveway. I ducked into the bathroom, not wanting to put him on guard with some signal he usually picked up when I was planning something.

“Hello?”

“Hi!” I called out, “I’m just in the bathroom.”

I paused, listening as he headed up stairs. I cracked open the door, grinning when I heard the squish of the plastic wrap and a few choice words from Greg’s mouth.

“Sarah!”

I dashed into the kitchen, pulling the fish and vegetables out of the oven and grabbing the cheese out of the fridge. “What?”

“Get up here now!”

‘Hmm’ I thought to myself as I tried to find the grater that had gone missing yet again in the tiny kitchen. He seemed surprisingly mad. “I’m getting dinner ready!”

There was a pause before he started thumping down the stairs. He had changed with incredible speed and in his haste he had buttoned up his shirt wrong. I didn’t think it was the best time to tell him that.

“What is this?” he cocked his head to one side and I couldn’t help but giggle. He reminded me of a little puppy dog.

“You really need to start cooking more if you have no idea what that is,” I said, glancing at the scrunched up plastic wrap in his hand before returning to my search for the illusive grater.

Plastic scrunched and I heard it go into the trash can. My thoughts went briefly to the fact that he had just wasted a perfectly useful piece of wrap before they started to wonder why I was dangling a foot in the air.

“Hey! Let me go! What do you think you are doing?”

He, as usual, ignored my demands which was so often the case. I mean, seriously? I was expected to listen and respond during a conversation but apparently he was not required to. Double standard!

“Upstairs!”

He speaks! Well, yells. We had made it to the foot of the stairs when I managed to break free. I turned around and try to pout. “It was just a joke!”

I was twirled around gracefully and ordered “Up. Stairs.” Each word followed by a stinging smack to my bottom.

“Ow! Fine...geez! Don’t blame me if you eat cold food tonight,” I grumbled as I managed to back myself up the stairs and into the bedroom.

“Drop your jeans.”

My stomach fluttered slightly as I eyed him, trying to judge his mood. I decided to take a chance. “Tit for tat?”

“Now.”

Uh oh. I noticed he had one hand behind his back and he had started to smirk. Not a good sign. I started to unbutton my jeans as he took a seat on the bed. Grabbing my arm and guiding me over his lap, he gave me a chance to adjust myself so I was lying comfortably with my legs on the bed. I couldn’t be in that much trouble than if I was allowed this small amount of freedom.

“So why are you getting spanked this time?”

Oh come on, it’s been at least a week! “Just keeping it fresh!”

“Seriously?”

“Well, that’s what it said on the box,” I mumbled, trying desperately to keep my panties in place as he started to pull him down.

“You don’t get to keep those,” he said mildly. “Not even when you’re being good.”

Sighing, I let him draw my panties down to my knees, curling my toes at the sensation of air on bare skin. He started to smack my bottom rhythmically as I lay there, enjoying the warmth that was building on my posterior. These were not the sharp spanks I had felt on the stairs. They were surprisingly pleasant.

I grabbed a pillow for my head, sinking into oblivion before he rudely interrupted my descent into Zen mode. “How much saran wrap do you think you wasted on your joke?”

“Hmmm? I don’t know. You were the one who threw it out.”

“I think at least 60 centimetres,” he stated before pausing and reaching behind him.

Damn! The stupid wooden spoon I kept hiding was in his hand. “No way! That hurts at least 5 times as much as your hand!”

“Ok, so divide 60 by 5 and that’s how many you are getting.”

“Did I say 5? I totally meant 10,” I said hopefully before yelping the sting the piece of firewood created on my already rosy backside.

“You sure? I could have sworn you said twice as much...”

“Nope, definitely five.”

“Oh good. And that one didn’t count, but you will be.”

I kicked up my legs at the first contact of wood to skin. “Ow! That was way too hard for play!”

He paused, chuckling as he held me down on his lap. “I never said we were playing. You had a laugh at my expense and now I get some stress relief at yours.” He landed another stinging smack as I tried to settle myself down again.

“Two!”

“Oh no, you missed one. Let’s start again!”

I groaned but bit my tongue as that piece of tinder bit into my skin. “One!”

“Very good!” Greg said cheerfully as he landed another.

“Two,” I stretched out, trying to get out of reach but failed miserably. I made it to twelve before he put the spoon down, rubbing aloe onto my reddened bum as I lay there, soaking up his gentle touch. He continued to rub as I yawned, lying peacefully over his lap.

“Dinner’s cold by now,” I said, sighing happily into the pillow.

“I think you need another spanking for that,” he said, before slapping my behind gently.

I stuck out my tongue at him.

We dined late on cold fish, chilly cauliflower and hot cheese sauce.
Copyright Felicia Nemo 2012

1 comment:

Thanks for dropping by! I love hearing from readers and I hope you drop me a line to let me know how you are doing!