Sanding 101

i had my first sanding lesson last night.

Yes, it was a lesson; i’ve never sanded before.  And really, i tried to tell Him i’m not a sanding kind of girl.  i’m the kind of girl who reads about someone else sanding.  That’s the kind of girl i am.

He didn’t even respond to that.  He just told me to put some different shoes on because my fluffy house slippers would be ruined by the fine layer of sand that was going to be created in the process.

“Yes, Sir,” is the only right answer to that.

The garage is cool, but not cold.  He starts off showing me the tools and explaining how it all works ~ why we use a sanding block, how to wrap the sandpaper around it, how to hold it.  He doesn’t let me start sanding the paddle right away.

He has an unfinished table leg that He got at Lowe’s.  i think it’s going to be a spreader bar someday.  But first, it is my practice piece of wood.

Finally, He hands me the sanding block and “lets me” begin.

Ok, it’s kind of soothing.  Just rubbing the wood back and forth.  It’s easy to concentrate on that, although other thoughts flit through my mind.

i had a difficult day yesterday.  Even though my morning thing went so well, and you might have thought that would be the beginning of wonderful day, it was not

Ok, it was not the day that was off kilter, it was me.  There were a couple of things, maybe three or four things, that triggered my “i’m no good and i can’t do anything right and i never will be able to do anything right so why don’t i just give up now”  recording in my head.

i KNOW that’s not true.  Really, really i do.  But that feeling can still settle on me like a cloud of gloom, and it did yesterday.

So i’ m sanding away, with the table leg on the work bench in the garage, thinking sanding will probably make me feel better.  i don’t much want to feel better, but there i am anyhow, sanding away and noticing how soothing the rhythm and the movements are and how smooth the wood is becoming, and feeling a bit better despite myself.

Then, “STOP!  I forgot a very important part!” says Sir.

i look up, startled ~

“Your panties!” He says.  “You’re supposed to take your panties off.”

i giggle.  i can’t help it.  “Really?   Here?”

“Yes, here.”  He taps my leg with the cane.  “Go ahead, get ’em off, hurry up.”

“But, Sir, it’s cold!  i’ll have to take my pants off!”

“Yes, I know, and you can put them back on.  Come on, hurry up.”

Another tap with the cane persuades me, and off come my pants ~ fortunately, they’re spandex ~ you know, like yoga pants ~ cause i hate the feel of jeans without panties.  Back on with the pants.

He hangs the panties on the pegboard with the yard clippers and other assorted tools.   That makes me smile.

Finally, He thinks i have the hang of it, and He lets me start on the paddle.  It is kind of pleasant.  

Until He pulls my pants down.

“Keep sanding,” He says, as He begins to smack my ass.

“Yes, Sir,” is the only right answer to that.

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Having been spanked, caned, and used in a variety of ways, i’m feeling much better this morning.  i wake up with several ideas on how to resolve the problems and worries of yesterday.

Thank you, Sir.