Wednesday night, we talked as we lay in bed. He told me that he understood that sometimes it's easier for me to communicate through written word rather than verbally, but that it is not that way for him. He pointed out that if he asks me a direct question, I had better answer it right then and there because it wasn't fair for me to brush it off like it's nothing, and be upset about it for days, leaving him wondering what the hell happened. I felt terrible for my part in all this. He was completely right. I had been thinking only of myself in those situations, and how could I expect him to do right by me if he had no idea what was right? He kissed me and accepted my endless apologies, and held me close to his body. Everything felt good again.
I was supposed to go to the gym on Wednesday. A few weeks ago, after my last dr appointment when they expressed concern about my weight gain during this pregnancy, J and I decided that I should be going to the gym 3 times a week, no excuses. I asked J to help me with this, since I'd been trying to go to the gym a few times a week already, and usually only made it once. I had the best intentions, with no motivation to back me up. He agreed, and we decided to make up a gym plan at the beginning of each week, and unless otherwise approved by J, I was to stick to that plan. Anyway, to shorten this rambling and get to the point, I didn't end up going Wednesday. I didn't do it intentionally, I just didn't think about it. When J got home from work that night, though, he asked me if I went, and I just shook my head. Not thinking it was a big deal, I said "No, I'll go tomorrow instead."
He gave me a look, one that I havent seen in a while, and replied, "Are you testing me, woman?"
I shook my head fiercely. "No..." I really wasn't! I didn't think it'd be a big deal.
"Why didn't you go, then?" he wanted to know.
"Honey, I just didn't think about it." I shrugged.
The subject was dropped, and I thought I'd heard the last of it.
He reminded me yesterday morning that I needed to go to the gym to make up for Wednesday. I agreed, even though I didn't feel like going. However, I dragged myself anyway, knowing if I didn't, there wouldn't be enough days left in the week for me to fit in my mandatory three.
After, I went to the bank and paid our bills, then to the grocery store to get some ingredients we didn't have at home so I could make dinner. When I got home I made corn muffins to have with dinner (J's favorite), and banana bread with the brown bananas on the counter. I was pretty much exhausted by the time he got home (it doesnt take much these days!) and I laid on the couch while he worked in the nursery for a little bit. Then of course I got up to make dinner, and we ate together. We had a nice night.
When he'd finished up for the night in the nursery, he went and showered, and then retreated to the bedroom for a minute. I figured he needed to grab a shirt or something, so I didn't pay any attention. He came back, and we watched American Idol, and played with our dog for a while. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the loopy johnny on top of the mantle. How the hell did I miss that being brought out? My heart started to beat loudly in my ears, but I didn't want to draw attention to the fact I knew it was there. I didnt want to hasten my fate. Soon after my noticing the evil implement, J got up and put the dog in her crate for the night. Coming back into the living room, he grabbed the loopy off the mantle and ordered me to come kneel on the loveseat beside him, to put my arms on the back of it.
I did that, and he started whacking me with it. This was not a play spanking. HOLY CRAP that thing hurts! I couldn't stay still for the life of me, and I tried really hard. We had to move because I was almost hitting my head on the wall behind the loveseat. On the bigger couch, I had the bay window to lean on. There was a blanket up there I balled up in my fist and buried my face in. I could hear J talking and I struggled to focus on what he was saying.
"Why didn't you go to the gym yesterday??" he asked, not slowing his assault any.
I could hear the damn thing whistle before it struck my burning skin. "I dont knoooow," I wailed.
"Was it intentional?"
"Noo," I felt like I was literally on fire, each stroke searing my poor defenseless butt.
Then he announced I'd be getting 45 on each cheek to start. I tried to wrap my mind around that. To start. I didn't know how much of this I could take. It was freaking intense. I couldn't keep my hands in front of me and had to be reminded quite a few times. Thank God he didn't give me extra for that, but I think he knew I really was trying to. I just couldn't. After that set, I was panting and tears stung my eyes. I wasn't exactly crying yet, but it took a moment to catch my breath. He asked me if I was going to go to the gym on time, when I was supposed to.
"Yes sir," I murmured.
"Okay. Now you're going to get 60 on each cheek." He lectured through these 120 swats about getting to the gym on my scheduled day, and going through him if I wanted to change days for any reason. Of course, he was right. Every time I'd asked to switch days he's approved it, so I should have just asked. Then he pointed out that I'd asked him to make sure I go three times a week, and thats exactly what he was going to do.
By the end of that set I was crying. He told me I could relax for a minute and take a break. He held me and asked if I was doing okay. I told him that I was, and snuggled into his chest for a minute. Once I'd calmed down, he told me to get back up for the rest. I was going to get 75 more on each and then I'd be done. It was intense. I cried, and squirmed, and my hands came back a few times again, but he just sternly told me to get them out of the way. When it was over I was sobbing, and he held me, kissing my hair. He told me he loved me, and we cuddled together and watched some more tv.
Even though my butt is bruised and still sore, I feel better. Things feel right again. I'll tell you one thing, I certainly won't be missing any more gym appointments. I NEVER want to be spanked with that loopy again. Ever.
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Friday, February 25, 2011
Thursday, June 3, 2010
a few little fun ones ;)
I have noticed, more so in the last couple of weeks than ever before, that my husband is becoming quite the spanko.
We were walking alongside the harbor on the Vineyard this weekend, and I noticed a girl in a bikini, who's butt was BARELY covered by her bathing suit.
I giggled and pointed her out to Jack.
He reached over and grabbed my bum. "Makes me wanna spank you," he whispered.
Anytime we see a wooden spoon or something that could be used as an implement, he'll whisper "wapishhhh" and give my cheeks a squeeze, or something to the effect. If I ask for a spanking, I better be ready for whatever he feels like dishing out, because once he's started, he's not stopping til he feels like it. It's funny to think that at one point I was worried that he would totally balk against the idea of spanking me, and that it took a lot of convincing to get him to spank me and take the control that he now has. I don't think all the convincing in the world could get him to stop now!
I am beginning to realize that sometimes, things just take time. You can't rush things and make them progress faster than they're meant to. Patience and honest communication are essential in any relationship, and a thousand times more so in a spanking relationship, in order to find what works for you and your loved one.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
He Never Ceases to Amaze Me
I woke up yesterday morning a little dizzy and dazed from the night before. The ladies from work had taken me out drinking in leiu of a bachelorette party, and being someone who doesnt drink all that often, I spent friday night puking and fighting with Jack. I woke up on the couch with a puke bag next to me and our bedroom door propped open. Jack came out a few minutes later, recalling the previous night's events to me, including how I cut myself with my necklace because it was so tangled and I yelled at him about taking it off and fought him the whole time he was trying to. He also reminded me that he had to make me go outside and pick up paper towels I'd drunkenly tried to throw in the neighbor's yard after cleaning my puke out of a friend's car.
"I think there's a paper towel on the neighbor's car," he told me sternly.
I felt like my face must have been on fire. "Are you serious?" I asked quietly.
He nodded. "You know what today is," he reminded me.
I thought for a moment. "Saturday? Oh. It's saturday." Reminder spankings. That dreadful anticipation swelled in my belly.
"You're going to get a good one tonight," he told me calmly. By now my stomach was doing flip flops. "Do you know what I'm going to use?" he asked.
I shook my head. "No. What?"
He grinned. "I'm not going to tell you yet," he patted my butt.
Dread gripped me. "Can I make a request?" I asked meekly.
He nodded. "You may. It might not be granted, but you can try." he responded fairly.
"Please don't use the five fingered strap tonight," I pleaded. My eyes grew wide and I blinked innocently, literally begging him with my baby blues.
He started to laugh. "Why is that your nemesis all of a sudden?" The five fingered strap is his favorite.
"I really hate it. It hurts so much," I complained. Just talking about it made my bottom tingle. I climbed on to the bed next to him and nuzzled my head against his chest. "Please, baby."
He sighed. "I don't know, I'll think about it. But, there's a good chance I'm going to use it." he warned me.
For the rest of the day, every now and then he would go, "Baby..." and when I'd turn to look at him, he'd whisper, "Wapishh,"
My heart rate would jump, the anticipation of the upcoming spanking growing and growing. By the time of the actual spanking (not until about 9:30 pm!) I was so anxious I could barely contain it.
We went to our room, and sat down on the bed, cuddling each other and talking about our day and how close the wedding was. When a comfortable silence had settled over the room, Jack's voice broke sternly through it.
"I want you to get up and go to the drawer," he ordered, referring to the drawer we keep our spanking arsenal in.
I sighed, standing up and going to the dresser, opening the drawer, then looking obediently to him for my next direction.
"I want the green 2 rod cane, the hairbrush, aaaannd...." he paused, letting me stand in agony as I waited for his last choice, praying he wouldn't say the five fingered leather strap. "You may choose the last implement, but choose wisely because if I don't agree, I'll just pick one."
I looked over the implements left in the drawer, not particularly wanting to meet up with any of them, but knowing I had to pick something that would be nasty enough that he wouldn't just come get the strap. I reached for the big paddle, ignoring the voice in my brain telling me that wasn't a good choice. I knew I was already in for a good spanking, so I figured I might as well just accept it.
He nodded. "That's fine," he said. "Now come over here and bend over the arm of the loveseat."
I did as I was told, wondering how long it would take him to notice I was wearing sweat pants.
He whacked me a few times successively with the double rod cane and then growled, "What are these? Get up and put spanking pants on." he demanded.
I got up quickly and averted the swat he tried to land on my passing backside. I changed into leggings, and laid back over the edge of the couch.
This time he attacked with the hairbrush, smacking my sit spot over and over. I was wriggling before the tenth swat had landed. He switched to the double rod and stung my whole backside rapid fire with it.
I could hardly control my body and kept sliding off the side and throwing my hand back. After a particularly painful stinger to my sit spot with the double rod, I jumped up and grabbed my butt. "Oh, owww." I looked at Jack with my puppy dog eyes, hoping he'd give me a moment to recoup.
Instead, he said, "You need to get the handcuffs."
I nodded my head and went to the drawer, pulling out the pink velcro handcuffs and bringing them to him to fasten on me. Once he had, he kissed my forehead and firmly guided me back over the side of the couch. When I had cuddled up to my stuffed animal and put my head down, I felt him tugging my leggings down, keeping my panties in place. Thankfully, I'd remembered to put full bottom panties on yesterday. I moaned fearfully anyway.
The next round was excruciating, as he switched back and forth between the double rod and the hairbrush, burning my bottom beyond what I thought possible. Despite the incredible pain, I hadn't yet started to cry. Again, I was "dry sobbing", like the last spanking. After a particularly hard round of fast hairbrush spanks, I looked back pleadingly, sliding off the arm. "Can we take a break?" I could see on his face that he was not going to comply. "Please," I begged, feeling desperation beginning to wash over me.
"I'll go slower," he compromised.
This wasn't any less painful, though it was less overwhelmingly so. He pulled my panties down, and started paddling my bottom. This paddle covered a whole butt cheek at a time, and the burn was intense, making my skin radiate heat.
I cried out, unable to keep quiet. The only words coming out of my mouth were "Ow," and "OhGODthathurts", making sure not to ask him to stop. He paddled my thighs, (which are suuuuper sensitive,) and then moved back to my burning backside.
"I'm going to get the strap, okay?" he told me softly.
I felt the tears well up in my eyes at that. My butt already hurt so much, it didn't feel like I could possibly take anymore, let alone from the strap. I looked at him and I was crushed between my desire to submit to him and my fear of that horrible strap. I nodded my head and whispered, "Okay," putting my head down to hide my tears. I could hear him fussing around in the implement drawer, and my heart pounded erratically.
He came back and started smacking my bare bottom with the strap.
My legs were kicking, I squirmed, squealed and cried out for all I was worth, and that damned strap just kept coming down on my scorched skin. I jumped up off the arm of the couch, turning to look at Jack with my tear-filled eyes. I thought he might let me off easy when he saw my tears but to his great credit, he didn't.
"Get back over the arm of the couch, babe." he said firmly, putting his hand in the small of my back and pushing me back down.
As the strap started coming down again I started to feel myself lose control, and a wave of panic swallowed me. I wiggled hard, giving one last attempt at an escape before lying still and accepting my spanking.
"Baby," he said softly. "Ten more with the strap on each side and you'll be done with it."
"Do I have to count them?" I whimpered, breathing hard.
"I will," he offered kindly. He doled them out, crisp and firm, counting them one by one. First ten on the left cheek, second ten on the right. When he finished, he put the strap down on the bed and stood up, getting the lotion off the dresser. He squirted some on my flaming bottom, and I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking maybe it was over (and yet insanely still hoping in the pit of my stomach that it wasn't.) He rubbed the lotion in gently, massaging as he did so. "Your ass is covered in welts," he said quietly, applying a little more lotion. He set the bottle of lotion back on the dresser and came back over to me, picking up the double rod and peppering my bottom with crisp swats.
I clutched at my stuffed animal, feeling the emotion welling up inside of me, crashing against the walls of my body like the ocean. It swelled and churned, washing away the sadness and uncertainty inside of myself.
Next came a barrage of swats from the awful big paddle again. The pain from the paddling and my emotional storm had finally built up enough and boiled over in the form of tears, rolling down my cheeks. At last, he stopped, and massaged my welted, hot skin with his big hands.
I moaned, grateful for his gentle touch yet quivering under the pain from the spanking. I caught my breath and got myself under control during this much needed break.
"Ten more with each implement and then your spanking will be over. Five on each cheek. I'm going to start with the hairbrush. Okay?" he announced.
I started to cry again, my bottom throbbing and throwing some serious heat. Nevertheless, this was exactly what I had asked Jack to do, and he was doing a marvelous job at carrying out my wishes. How could I do anything but submit? I nodded my head and whispered, "yes sir."
He went pretty easy, (not to say they didn't hurt!!!!!) but I think the last ten with each implement was more of him showing me that he's in charge now, and it's not over until he decides it's over.
The spanking hurt like hell and I sobbed in his arms for a good five to ten minutes after it was over, but I felt so wonderful and refreshed. I felt like we connected on a level deeper than anything we've experienced before last night. We made love afterward and it was absolutely amazing. Although all I could think about during the spanking was how much it hurt and how badly I wanted it to end, once the tears were flowing and it was over, I was at peace with myself and felt very safe and protected. I thanked him, and he told me I didn't need to thank him. He shared with me that it was very difficult for him to do this. I told him that I cant imagine how hard it must be but that I appreciate it very very much. I havent been able to stop staring at him and touching and cuddling him all day today. I'm still glowing from last night's experience, and can't think of any other way to describe it besides mind-blowing.
"I think there's a paper towel on the neighbor's car," he told me sternly.
I felt like my face must have been on fire. "Are you serious?" I asked quietly.
He nodded. "You know what today is," he reminded me.
I thought for a moment. "Saturday? Oh. It's saturday." Reminder spankings. That dreadful anticipation swelled in my belly.
"You're going to get a good one tonight," he told me calmly. By now my stomach was doing flip flops. "Do you know what I'm going to use?" he asked.
I shook my head. "No. What?"
He grinned. "I'm not going to tell you yet," he patted my butt.
Dread gripped me. "Can I make a request?" I asked meekly.
He nodded. "You may. It might not be granted, but you can try." he responded fairly.
"Please don't use the five fingered strap tonight," I pleaded. My eyes grew wide and I blinked innocently, literally begging him with my baby blues.
He started to laugh. "Why is that your nemesis all of a sudden?" The five fingered strap is his favorite.
"I really hate it. It hurts so much," I complained. Just talking about it made my bottom tingle. I climbed on to the bed next to him and nuzzled my head against his chest. "Please, baby."
He sighed. "I don't know, I'll think about it. But, there's a good chance I'm going to use it." he warned me.
For the rest of the day, every now and then he would go, "Baby..." and when I'd turn to look at him, he'd whisper, "Wapishh,"
My heart rate would jump, the anticipation of the upcoming spanking growing and growing. By the time of the actual spanking (not until about 9:30 pm!) I was so anxious I could barely contain it.
We went to our room, and sat down on the bed, cuddling each other and talking about our day and how close the wedding was. When a comfortable silence had settled over the room, Jack's voice broke sternly through it.
"I want you to get up and go to the drawer," he ordered, referring to the drawer we keep our spanking arsenal in.
I sighed, standing up and going to the dresser, opening the drawer, then looking obediently to him for my next direction.
"I want the green 2 rod cane, the hairbrush, aaaannd...." he paused, letting me stand in agony as I waited for his last choice, praying he wouldn't say the five fingered leather strap. "You may choose the last implement, but choose wisely because if I don't agree, I'll just pick one."
I looked over the implements left in the drawer, not particularly wanting to meet up with any of them, but knowing I had to pick something that would be nasty enough that he wouldn't just come get the strap. I reached for the big paddle, ignoring the voice in my brain telling me that wasn't a good choice. I knew I was already in for a good spanking, so I figured I might as well just accept it.
He nodded. "That's fine," he said. "Now come over here and bend over the arm of the loveseat."
I did as I was told, wondering how long it would take him to notice I was wearing sweat pants.
He whacked me a few times successively with the double rod cane and then growled, "What are these? Get up and put spanking pants on." he demanded.
I got up quickly and averted the swat he tried to land on my passing backside. I changed into leggings, and laid back over the edge of the couch.
This time he attacked with the hairbrush, smacking my sit spot over and over. I was wriggling before the tenth swat had landed. He switched to the double rod and stung my whole backside rapid fire with it.
I could hardly control my body and kept sliding off the side and throwing my hand back. After a particularly painful stinger to my sit spot with the double rod, I jumped up and grabbed my butt. "Oh, owww." I looked at Jack with my puppy dog eyes, hoping he'd give me a moment to recoup.
Instead, he said, "You need to get the handcuffs."
I nodded my head and went to the drawer, pulling out the pink velcro handcuffs and bringing them to him to fasten on me. Once he had, he kissed my forehead and firmly guided me back over the side of the couch. When I had cuddled up to my stuffed animal and put my head down, I felt him tugging my leggings down, keeping my panties in place. Thankfully, I'd remembered to put full bottom panties on yesterday. I moaned fearfully anyway.
The next round was excruciating, as he switched back and forth between the double rod and the hairbrush, burning my bottom beyond what I thought possible. Despite the incredible pain, I hadn't yet started to cry. Again, I was "dry sobbing", like the last spanking. After a particularly hard round of fast hairbrush spanks, I looked back pleadingly, sliding off the arm. "Can we take a break?" I could see on his face that he was not going to comply. "Please," I begged, feeling desperation beginning to wash over me.
"I'll go slower," he compromised.
This wasn't any less painful, though it was less overwhelmingly so. He pulled my panties down, and started paddling my bottom. This paddle covered a whole butt cheek at a time, and the burn was intense, making my skin radiate heat.
I cried out, unable to keep quiet. The only words coming out of my mouth were "Ow," and "OhGODthathurts", making sure not to ask him to stop. He paddled my thighs, (which are suuuuper sensitive,) and then moved back to my burning backside.
"I'm going to get the strap, okay?" he told me softly.
I felt the tears well up in my eyes at that. My butt already hurt so much, it didn't feel like I could possibly take anymore, let alone from the strap. I looked at him and I was crushed between my desire to submit to him and my fear of that horrible strap. I nodded my head and whispered, "Okay," putting my head down to hide my tears. I could hear him fussing around in the implement drawer, and my heart pounded erratically.
He came back and started smacking my bare bottom with the strap.
My legs were kicking, I squirmed, squealed and cried out for all I was worth, and that damned strap just kept coming down on my scorched skin. I jumped up off the arm of the couch, turning to look at Jack with my tear-filled eyes. I thought he might let me off easy when he saw my tears but to his great credit, he didn't.
"Get back over the arm of the couch, babe." he said firmly, putting his hand in the small of my back and pushing me back down.
As the strap started coming down again I started to feel myself lose control, and a wave of panic swallowed me. I wiggled hard, giving one last attempt at an escape before lying still and accepting my spanking.
"Baby," he said softly. "Ten more with the strap on each side and you'll be done with it."
"Do I have to count them?" I whimpered, breathing hard.
"I will," he offered kindly. He doled them out, crisp and firm, counting them one by one. First ten on the left cheek, second ten on the right. When he finished, he put the strap down on the bed and stood up, getting the lotion off the dresser. He squirted some on my flaming bottom, and I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking maybe it was over (and yet insanely still hoping in the pit of my stomach that it wasn't.) He rubbed the lotion in gently, massaging as he did so. "Your ass is covered in welts," he said quietly, applying a little more lotion. He set the bottle of lotion back on the dresser and came back over to me, picking up the double rod and peppering my bottom with crisp swats.
I clutched at my stuffed animal, feeling the emotion welling up inside of me, crashing against the walls of my body like the ocean. It swelled and churned, washing away the sadness and uncertainty inside of myself.
Next came a barrage of swats from the awful big paddle again. The pain from the paddling and my emotional storm had finally built up enough and boiled over in the form of tears, rolling down my cheeks. At last, he stopped, and massaged my welted, hot skin with his big hands.
I moaned, grateful for his gentle touch yet quivering under the pain from the spanking. I caught my breath and got myself under control during this much needed break.
"Ten more with each implement and then your spanking will be over. Five on each cheek. I'm going to start with the hairbrush. Okay?" he announced.
I started to cry again, my bottom throbbing and throwing some serious heat. Nevertheless, this was exactly what I had asked Jack to do, and he was doing a marvelous job at carrying out my wishes. How could I do anything but submit? I nodded my head and whispered, "yes sir."
He went pretty easy, (not to say they didn't hurt!!!!!) but I think the last ten with each implement was more of him showing me that he's in charge now, and it's not over until he decides it's over.
The spanking hurt like hell and I sobbed in his arms for a good five to ten minutes after it was over, but I felt so wonderful and refreshed. I felt like we connected on a level deeper than anything we've experienced before last night. We made love afterward and it was absolutely amazing. Although all I could think about during the spanking was how much it hurt and how badly I wanted it to end, once the tears were flowing and it was over, I was at peace with myself and felt very safe and protected. I thanked him, and he told me I didn't need to thank him. He shared with me that it was very difficult for him to do this. I told him that I cant imagine how hard it must be but that I appreciate it very very much. I havent been able to stop staring at him and touching and cuddling him all day today. I'm still glowing from last night's experience, and can't think of any other way to describe it besides mind-blowing.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
New Beginnings
I always knew that I was interested in spanking. By age 14, I was reading stories about spanking discipline online when my parents went out and I was left to babysit. I would read countless stories, distinterested by the sexual stories and drawn to those with a clear discipline focus. I didn't date much in highschool. Even after highschool, I only dated a few guys and I never even thought about telling any of them about my spanking fetish. This was something that was very very personal and intimate with me and I didn't feel I shared a connection worthy of sharing that part of myself with any of those guys. When I met Jack, it was immediately obvious that he is naturally dominant, and I was extremely attracted to him. It took me a long time to open up to him about my interest in spanking, but I am genuinely glad that I did.
When we first began incorporating spanking, it was playful and often erotic. He spanked very lightly to begin with, experimenting each time he spanked me, discovering that he wasn't going to actually hurt me.
Jack proposed on Christmas eve, and shortly after, I became aware that I needed and desired more from the spanking dynamic of our relationship. More importantly, I realized that I needed to share my desires with Jack, and that although it may be embarassing, he deserved to know about something that meant this much to me. I came across a book online called "How to Give a Spanking" (there is another that goes with it called "How to Get the Spanking You Want,) and I bought/downloaded it and printed it out for my fiance. I read through it and highlighted and underlined specific things that applied to myself and my desires. The most important part (from my point of view) was that it included the observation that if it was embarassing and difficult for the wife to ask to be spanked, then she probably is looking for the sort of spanking that will leave her marked and teary-eyed. This part of the book does not come until about half-way through, and let me tell you, it was torture waiting for Jack to get to that part. Since he works such odd hours, he spends much of his free time with me, not leaving a lot of time for reading. He had discovered some important tid bits of information such me wanted to be disciplined for real actions, and he commented, "I have no problem bending you over and spanking you when you're bad. But you don't do anything wrong."
After a month or so of his reading, and still not getting to the key point, I became frustrated and anxious. I wrote him a note, explaining that I wanted to cry from a spanking. I was terrified to tell him this, afraid he would refuse or think differently of me. He told me that he would do his best, that he wanted to make me happy and give me what I wanted, but that it would be extremely difficult because all he wanted was for me to be safe and happy and he did not want to be the one causing tears or pain. I understood this, and it became a lot more clear to me at this point just how much I was asking of Jack. I was overcome with appreciation for Jack and all he has done for me, very aware that many women aren't as lucky as I.
My spankings were much harder after that, and it was as if Jack was playing with my limits, exploring my boundaries and seeing just how far he could go before I would cry. We continued to play with spanking, buying new implements and testing them out, taking it day by day. Over the past weekend, I was starting to feel like I needed a spanking. I was short-tempered and cranky for no reason, and I felt as if I could crawl out of my skin. I wanted to behave but I just couldn't, taking every opportunity to poke or pinch or just plain bother Jack. He had asked me to do something and I scoffed. He told me that my behavior was going to earn me 65 swats with the black strap if I didn't change my attitude. I asked if I would have to count them or if he would, because it might be worth bratting some more if I didn't have to count. He told me that I was going to have to count, and that I could certainly look forward to a spanking that night. Later he actually gave me and made me count the 65 (which I did not expect in the least) and continued spanking me with a different strap when he'd finished those. He spanked me harder than he usually does, and after finishing up with the strap, he hand spanked me on my thighs until my eyes had welled with tears. I was breathing hard and had tears rolling silently down my cheeks when the spanking had finished.
I was ... relieved .. for lack of a better word. It felt like the world had been lifted off my shoulders, and I was finally balanced and safe. I nuzzled into Jack's arms and cherished the feeling of his arms around me.
"How does your butt feel?" he'd asked.
"It's sore," I complained. "You made me cry!" I pointed out, unable to communicate this to him any other way.
"I'm sorry," he murmured softly. "But not really,"
I lifted my head and looked into his eyes. "No sorries." I insisted. "Thank you," I couldn't explain to him how much it meant to me that he was so accepting and accommodating to my needs. I felt another wave of emotions and I smiled. "I love you,"
That was my first spanking to tears and it was all I could have wished for. Looking back at the past year and a half, and how much our relationship has evolved, I know that our future is bright. It is a wonderful way to begin our new lives together, and I believe it will only make our bonds stronger.
When we first began incorporating spanking, it was playful and often erotic. He spanked very lightly to begin with, experimenting each time he spanked me, discovering that he wasn't going to actually hurt me.
Jack proposed on Christmas eve, and shortly after, I became aware that I needed and desired more from the spanking dynamic of our relationship. More importantly, I realized that I needed to share my desires with Jack, and that although it may be embarassing, he deserved to know about something that meant this much to me. I came across a book online called "How to Give a Spanking" (there is another that goes with it called "How to Get the Spanking You Want,) and I bought/downloaded it and printed it out for my fiance. I read through it and highlighted and underlined specific things that applied to myself and my desires. The most important part (from my point of view) was that it included the observation that if it was embarassing and difficult for the wife to ask to be spanked, then she probably is looking for the sort of spanking that will leave her marked and teary-eyed. This part of the book does not come until about half-way through, and let me tell you, it was torture waiting for Jack to get to that part. Since he works such odd hours, he spends much of his free time with me, not leaving a lot of time for reading. He had discovered some important tid bits of information such me wanted to be disciplined for real actions, and he commented, "I have no problem bending you over and spanking you when you're bad. But you don't do anything wrong."
After a month or so of his reading, and still not getting to the key point, I became frustrated and anxious. I wrote him a note, explaining that I wanted to cry from a spanking. I was terrified to tell him this, afraid he would refuse or think differently of me. He told me that he would do his best, that he wanted to make me happy and give me what I wanted, but that it would be extremely difficult because all he wanted was for me to be safe and happy and he did not want to be the one causing tears or pain. I understood this, and it became a lot more clear to me at this point just how much I was asking of Jack. I was overcome with appreciation for Jack and all he has done for me, very aware that many women aren't as lucky as I.
My spankings were much harder after that, and it was as if Jack was playing with my limits, exploring my boundaries and seeing just how far he could go before I would cry. We continued to play with spanking, buying new implements and testing them out, taking it day by day. Over the past weekend, I was starting to feel like I needed a spanking. I was short-tempered and cranky for no reason, and I felt as if I could crawl out of my skin. I wanted to behave but I just couldn't, taking every opportunity to poke or pinch or just plain bother Jack. He had asked me to do something and I scoffed. He told me that my behavior was going to earn me 65 swats with the black strap if I didn't change my attitude. I asked if I would have to count them or if he would, because it might be worth bratting some more if I didn't have to count. He told me that I was going to have to count, and that I could certainly look forward to a spanking that night. Later he actually gave me and made me count the 65 (which I did not expect in the least) and continued spanking me with a different strap when he'd finished those. He spanked me harder than he usually does, and after finishing up with the strap, he hand spanked me on my thighs until my eyes had welled with tears. I was breathing hard and had tears rolling silently down my cheeks when the spanking had finished.
I was ... relieved .. for lack of a better word. It felt like the world had been lifted off my shoulders, and I was finally balanced and safe. I nuzzled into Jack's arms and cherished the feeling of his arms around me.
"How does your butt feel?" he'd asked.
"It's sore," I complained. "You made me cry!" I pointed out, unable to communicate this to him any other way.
"I'm sorry," he murmured softly. "But not really,"
I lifted my head and looked into his eyes. "No sorries." I insisted. "Thank you," I couldn't explain to him how much it meant to me that he was so accepting and accommodating to my needs. I felt another wave of emotions and I smiled. "I love you,"
That was my first spanking to tears and it was all I could have wished for. Looking back at the past year and a half, and how much our relationship has evolved, I know that our future is bright. It is a wonderful way to begin our new lives together, and I believe it will only make our bonds stronger.
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