WIRED FOR STORY TIME

Mistress was so happy, and sweet. I guess that should have triggered a 'bunny alarm", but I was so happy to be able to talk to her, and spend time again, that I just basked in the glow, and was lulled into her "pounce". After a bit of small talk she told me she had the new book for storytime "Voyage To The Bunny Planet". That I needed to get my pants off, four closepins, and get them on my thing. EEP! I had almost forgotten the "teeth" in storytime. I made small talk as I scurried to find four clips in my implement bag. She was having none of that. I was told to "Hurry it up." Ooh! Her strict voice! It melts in my heart, and puts a chill down my back at the same time. I didn't know whether to whimper, or purr like a cat, but I hurried it up!

The story was sweet, and so was her voice in the telling of it. I could see her lovely copper hair, and slender little hands holding the book. There was a gentle smile in her voice. I was one happy bunny. Between personal situations in both of our lives, and losing the last book, we hadn't done storytime in ages!! All too soon it was over, and I was told "I'd better get those clips off." I had forgotten how much they hurt coming off. I gasped as I was reminded by the first one. I wanted to hurry, and get the rest off, but dreaded each one too much. Ooh! the burn! And down there too! EEP! I'm sure I made way more fuss than was necessary, but I do love to "sing" for Mistress. I didn't know it yet, but I was about to sing an opera.

I had anticipated a bit more pleasant conversation, and a "Goodnite little bunny", but Mistress had a completely different agenda. "Now Little Bunny mine I want you to reach into that little bag of yours, and get me out something loud." (POUNCE!) I was safely tucked away in the new bunny den. No privacy issues. No need to be quiet. No witnesses. I was doomed. Ooh.

I was beside myself with excitement! I dug around in my bag, prudently rejecting a couple of "Louisville sluggers", and selected one of those paddleball paddles. I knew as long as it had been that Mistress would want something she could swing "awhile", and I also knew that they are one of her favorites. The song "Hurts so good" was playing in the back of my mind.

"OK ." She said brightly. "Let's start out with fifty good hard swats on both cheecks of that little bottom of yours." This room is fourteen feet wide, and almost thirty feet long, with hardwood floors. It has the acoustics of a church. That little thin paddle sounded like a pistol shot! The room exploded with sound. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "OWIE!!" ...God, it stung like fire! I was in full voice from the begining, and fifty seemed like a very big number. I began to whimper between ow ow owies, and do the paddle dance. The song in the back of my mind was begining to change.

Mistress was just getting started. I was immediatley given fifty more on my now hot cheeks. I was soon crying. I became lost in the sound, and fire that thin little paddle was generating. Mistress made some clever conversation between that, and the next series, but all I heard was the number twenty five more, and each side... I was getting it. What ever I replied was very meek, and tearfull, punctuated with sniffs. Mistress was not finnished hurting her bunny yet.

I was told to scurry, and bring back the wire hand. One of Mistress's favorite new bunny scorchers. It is one of a pair of wire frames, made of coat hanger wire, to strech rubber gloves on to dry. God it hurts. It was time for the little fat bunny to sing. I was given twelve hard swats on each side with that evil evil thing. It wasn't "loud", but I was. I was in full voice. Each searing swat bringing out it's own note from me. I got scorched.

Later, my red hot bottom sitting on a hard wooden chair, I soothed, and comforted by my sweet mistress.We were happy. We were "home".