This short story is an entry in the 2001 Soc.Sexuality.Spanking Summer Short Story Contest and is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission. Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice. The author would appreciate your comments
Category: Festival
Waiting for the Weekend
By
It's Sunday night again and your gone. Every Sunday at 8:00 p.m. sharp, you give me on last hug, one last kiss, and maybe even one last swat before you drive off. I know we agreed that this was for the best. I know I promised to be strong. And I swore I'd behave, but it's so hard.
I long for your touch, your kiss, your love. I'd gladly endure anything you deem fair, if you were here. But for now, I can only wait for the next weekend to come.
I will try to control my tears. I will keep myself occupied; there's plenty of housework to keep me busy. I'll go to bed at a decent hour. I promise not to eat junk food to ease my pain. And you have my word, when I go out with friends I will not drink too much. I'll give you no excuse to punish me, when my wait for the weekend is over.
I've endure the sting of the belt, the lash of the whip, the power of the paddle. I may have hated the punishments you've devised over the years, but I've survived them all. So it's kind of ironic, that the most painful thing that I've ever had to endure was waiting for the weekend.
The End
© Copyright Summer, 2001
Reviews
Alex Birch <alexbirch(at)blueyonder(dot)co(dot)uk>
Well I certainly dont intend to be non constructive, Tami. Its obviously a love letter of sorts, a little personal heart cry expressed with some clarity and one can identify with the feelings of the writer..obviously the intent. I think Tami may feel a little better for writing this down and its a good Festival entry.