Hey, I rhymed.
You know how I love to sass and fuss and pretend I don't want to be spanked, and I play up the power struggle aspect?
Screw it. I couldn't be bothered with that today. I wanted it too damn much. Yes, I love the pretense of non-consent. But sometimes, I just have to admit that I love spanking, I need spanking, and I want spanking. Now. And I was more than ready to start the new year of scenes off right.
Steve said he didn't have any ideas for scenarios or what-have-you today; could we skip that? I was happy to agree; I just wanted to play. And play, and play. As did he.
So we got down to it, with the usual OTK warm-up. Today, I didn't kick or squirm away. Today, I arched my back and raised my bottom up higher to meet his hand, in all its various modes. Fast flurries, slow and deliberate, all over each cheek, on the sweet spots, and just slightly below them for good measure. There was no banter this time, just sounds. He spoke to me, but I couldn't hear him over my own groans and the smacks. I felt like a greedily sucking mechanism, eagerly absorbing every sensation, impact and sting, and wanting more.
Then warm-up was over. "You pick the toys, whatever you want," he whispered. "It's your day.""No wood," I decided, and then I chose the leather Spanking Buddy, a small paddle, my short leather strap and the lexan paddle for some extra intensity. When we moved into the bedroom, I didn't pile up pillows just so and then arrange myself over them. Today, it was about urgency. Today, I simply bent over the side of the bed and put my head on my arms, offering myself to him.
![]()
It wasn't always easy to hold that position, especially when he was going at it fast and hard. I know at one point I was gasping his name over and over, but other than that, I spoke little. And I didn't shed a single tear this time. It was less about catharsis, and more about the sheer wonder of the feeling. And about how connected we were.
"Wow," he marveled afterward, "you were really in your groove today, weren't you? What was going on?"
My reply was simple. "I missed you."
![]()
Not red enough? Is this better?
![]()
There's those damned butt measles again. I guess I'm stuck with them.
Aftercare was sweet and comforting and I felt our bond so strongly. He kept thanking me. I never quite understand why he thanks me; I don't feel like I do anything. But he says my pleasure and delight is his as well.
(What a far cry from the asshats out there who say, "So if I spank you, what's in it for me?")
"I'm the second luckiest man on the planet," he likes to say. According to him, John is the luckiest. I beg to differ, but he adds, "Don't argue with me."
I've been struggling a lot in recent months, over various issues. But on days like this, I feel like I must be doing something right.
Happy New Year, again. ♥
You know how I love to sass and fuss and pretend I don't want to be spanked, and I play up the power struggle aspect?
Screw it. I couldn't be bothered with that today. I wanted it too damn much. Yes, I love the pretense of non-consent. But sometimes, I just have to admit that I love spanking, I need spanking, and I want spanking. Now. And I was more than ready to start the new year of scenes off right.
Steve said he didn't have any ideas for scenarios or what-have-you today; could we skip that? I was happy to agree; I just wanted to play. And play, and play. As did he.
So we got down to it, with the usual OTK warm-up. Today, I didn't kick or squirm away. Today, I arched my back and raised my bottom up higher to meet his hand, in all its various modes. Fast flurries, slow and deliberate, all over each cheek, on the sweet spots, and just slightly below them for good measure. There was no banter this time, just sounds. He spoke to me, but I couldn't hear him over my own groans and the smacks. I felt like a greedily sucking mechanism, eagerly absorbing every sensation, impact and sting, and wanting more.
Then warm-up was over. "You pick the toys, whatever you want," he whispered. "It's your day.""No wood," I decided, and then I chose the leather Spanking Buddy, a small paddle, my short leather strap and the lexan paddle for some extra intensity. When we moved into the bedroom, I didn't pile up pillows just so and then arrange myself over them. Today, it was about urgency. Today, I simply bent over the side of the bed and put my head on my arms, offering myself to him.
It wasn't always easy to hold that position, especially when he was going at it fast and hard. I know at one point I was gasping his name over and over, but other than that, I spoke little. And I didn't shed a single tear this time. It was less about catharsis, and more about the sheer wonder of the feeling. And about how connected we were.
"Wow," he marveled afterward, "you were really in your groove today, weren't you? What was going on?"
My reply was simple. "I missed you."
Not red enough? Is this better?
There's those damned butt measles again. I guess I'm stuck with them.
Aftercare was sweet and comforting and I felt our bond so strongly. He kept thanking me. I never quite understand why he thanks me; I don't feel like I do anything. But he says my pleasure and delight is his as well.
(What a far cry from the asshats out there who say, "So if I spank you, what's in it for me?")
"I'm the second luckiest man on the planet," he likes to say. According to him, John is the luckiest. I beg to differ, but he adds, "Don't argue with me."
I've been struggling a lot in recent months, over various issues. But on days like this, I feel like I must be doing something right.
Happy New Year, again. ♥