Until You Cry

I used to imagine how hard a spanking might have to be to get me to cry.
 I remember the things I used to fantasize about when I was a young teen. It must have been some kind of spin-off from feelings I had as a small child. I hope no one freaks that I'm going here, but I want to be able to go anywhere when it comes to thinking about spanking. I was a good kid, and discipline didn't happen often. (And I would say it often happened when it shouldn't have, and didn't happen when it should have.) However, I knew the secret---cry soon, cry hard, cry loud. It makes the person stop a ton sooner everytime.
In my fantasies, however, I'd tell the man about to discipline me, "I'm not going to cry."
And he'd say, "That's perfectly fine. You don't have to."
It was always like this in my head, in the stories I'd make up in my mind. And in those stories, she (I) would always end up crying. But not because it was a must.
I cried with College Guy the second time I met up with him.
 My vanilla ex had recently been trying to get back together with me, and my emotions were all over the place.
There was a punishment spanking we had planned. I remember being sorry for the thing I had done. It was something that had caused undue stress to College Guy and something that had been irresponsible--I had not answered my phone for hours and hours knowing full well that I had agreed to talk to him, and that I had just flown back to college and he would want to know if I'd arrived safely.
The punishment spanking didn't make me cry though. I told him, "If I cry, it's because I'm so tired and stressed. It's not because of the spanking."
Afterwards, I told him I was worried about hurting him. I was afraid he was getting too close, falling in love with me.
He told me that I was a great friend and person. That I don't hurt my friends, at least not often. I was lolling on the hotel bed with just a hoodie and boy-short panties on.
" I don't think I'm a good person." I mumbled, running my fingertips in little circles on the bedspread.
"Do you want me to put you back over my knee?" He  threatened warmly.
I looked down and mumbled, "No...I mean..No, I'm not a good person." It was my story and I was sticking to it.
"Get over."
"What? Nooooo.." I grumbled as he grabbed my arm and dragged me over his lap, his back propped up against the headboard.
Between smacks, he asked me, "So, how are you a bad person?"
I hemmed and hawed. "Uhh..it's really just a feeling. I don't know. Ow. You already spanked me..."
He slapped each cheek harder and harder. Then paused, "For someone who keeps saying, 'I'm a bad person', you really don't have much to defend yourself with."
He spanked. He lectured. And I argued right back.
"Alright," he said. "Get up for a minute." He stalked off to his backpack and returned with Gepetto, the bath brush.
"No, no, no, you already used that on me." I whined.
He stretched out on the bed and patted his lap. "Now, Bonnie-jo."
I placed myself resignedly over him.
"I'm going to spank you until you cry, okay?"
But the question was not directed at me. It sounded like he was thinking out loud to himself.  But I put in my two cents anyway.
"No, no no! Please. You know I can't cry. Besides..ahhghghgh...no! I'm just depressed right now. About my ex and all. I know how to deal with this stuff. When I'm depressed, I have to distract myself until it passes. You can't fix it."
"I'm going to spank you to tears."
And then he started.
College Guy is right-handed, and yet I was positioned in the opposite direction over his lap. Not my fault. He'd pulled me there. And yet, that bath brush hurt unbelievably. If a bath brush spanks well with the weak hand/arm, you know you've got yourself a bath bruth that needs to get lost somehow. Or to be used as some kind of ceremonial incense.
I still had my hoodie on. But then it somehow came off. I must have been flailing about a bit. So now I only had on a black bra. At one point he asked me one of those "Yes, Sir" type of questions. I responded with an angry-as-I-could-make-it "Yes!!"
"Is that hostility in your voice?" He unecessarily asked.
Then he promptly undid my bra and slipped it off my shoulders. I had never been completely naked in his prescence before. "Noo..." I begged. But I didn't try to struggle.  It made me feel smaller, more vulnerable. And I lay still, as he smacked and smacked and talked and talked. I argued back at times, but I didn't feel like arguing as much as it progressed. It seemed like it would never end.
The smacks were very slow though. Hard. But slow.
He kept spanking and checking my face for tears. Spank, spank, spank...and then he would incline his head to the side to catch a glimpse of my face. Kind of adorably attentive now that I look back at it....
At one point, I began to struggle really hard again. It was the worst of the storm before the calm. He stopped the bathbrush, and I stopped the struggling. Had I won?
Then, "You are a good person, Bonnie-jo." Smack! "This is a two -way street." Smack! "You don't have to be perfect here." Smack! "It's about trust. It's about trusting your friends with the friendship you offer. You can trust your friends--"
And I lost it. It was because he said the things about trusting. I think that trust is one of the most baffling things about relationships. You're supposed to do it with God. And I never could much. You're supposed to do it with your friends. And I don't especially.
I began to sob deeply, but almost silently.
He spanked a little more. That helped me stop crying. It was a nice distraction from the tears.
And then it was over. I rolled off his lap and curled up in a little ball. And just breathed. He held me for a bit.
And, it didn't fix things exactly. But I felt better. And excited. We had crossed a boundary in our spanking relationship. It was a first for both of us.

Hot Spanking Story--How Dare She....

I think I could almost "get off" on this story.  It sends shivers in all the right places. It had me swirling down down down into that place where one's breath deepens, eyes glaze over, and there is nothing except a brain -swirly- feeling and the sure knowledge that something amazing is going to happen--namely, a very good spanking.
I love the buildup!
I'm in the middle of writing a paper for school, but in the midst of a break, I found this spanking story "How Dare He?" . The author amazed me. I have had a very similar fantasy that I've played over and over again in my head as a teenager. There was a chase involving horse riding--with a man intent on spanking in close pursuit of a naughty young girl.  There was a horse that threw the  mischevious young girl. There was an angry and concerned man who had to then spank the girl. Ahhhh.....how dare she take my ideas?? Hahha!
Really this story has made my night!
The email address of the author is at the bottom of the page. Just in case you want to write and tell them how amazing they are.

Waiting

I changed clothes at a MacDonald's. My bulging backpack hid the school girl skirt, the knee length boots, the polo shirt and short double-breasted jacket. Stepping into the restroom was an easy task. But as I struggled into the clothing, I fought a momentary nausea. Get the job done, I told myself. I checked myself in the mirror. All was in order. Walked out the door and held my head high. One of the employees  watched me through the window between his floor sweepings.

I don't remember the car ride to that hotel lobby. The radio was on, and I was undoubtedly  attempting to console myself by singing to it. This is my recourse when life is scary. I'll do it when traffic is hectic. And I'll do it when I'm about to get spanked by a complete stranger. So I did it when I was about to meet My Magician for the first time.

We had talked a lot online.  And we had agreed to meet in a public place--first the hotel lobby, then drinks at the hotel restaurant. I was safe. But what if he was a cranky, gross old man?  And what if I wasn't safe?  I had decided I didn't care if I was safe. Kids, don't try this at home; I don't recommend it. But in the end, there are no absolutes....

I knew College Guy by this time. He had given me my very first spanking. We were very close. But I had wondered what it would be like to have someone to see just for discipline. Someone older, someone mature, someone who had been giving spankings for a long time. A mentor. An almost-father-figure. I was hoping against hope that such a  relationship was possible, that maybe I could have a relationship like that. Someone who wasn't looking for anything sexual. A strict disciplinarian. No drama. Just spankings. I had wanted that kind of relationship ever since I was 6 years old.

It was the moment of truth. I forced my shaking legs out of my car, and, cell phone in hand, stepped towards the hotel lobby doors. The doors were clear glass, and I saw a man sitting in a the only chair that faced the doors. Waiting.

He rose with a smile. He didn't really look like his pictures--it's always a relief to see someone in real life, I think, as opposed to what you imagine from a picture. I think we shook hands. Maybe. He commented that he didn't expect me to look so happy to see him. Yes, I was grinning like a fool....And then he inclined his head to the left and told me, "Come." It was a beginning.

The booth we sat in was leather. Black leather. My short skirt continually slid up. And I kept shifting in my seat, trying to get comfortable against the slippery leather. Waiting.

We chatted. I felt like I was talking to an old teacher from high school. It was normal, relaxed--except for the occasional double entendre concerning spanking. But he kept those to a minimum...in retrospect, I'm sure it was painful for him. I almost forgot why I was there. Then he said with a warm smile, "I think we're going to go back to my hotel room now, and give you a good spanking. Not too good, of course. We'll save that for tomorrow." The point of his statement had already been discussed at length. This night would be an introductory spanking. The next day would be punishment.


Before I knew it, I was in his hotel room. Christmas music played at a low pitch from  his laptop. "Bar-ump-ump-ump-uhmmm...Me and my drum..." 

"I have to go change, " I remember mumbling. His smile was suddenly gone. "Because...because..." I stammered. "Because I didn't wear the thong you told me too."

"I distinctly told you to wear a thong, Miss Bonnie-jo," He said sternly but not ill-humoredly.

" I know, but I was worried about my skirt flapping around in the restaurant." I replied meekly.

"Go change. Now."

I came back later, all shy and retreating. He was seated in an armchair, and he held out his hand.  I gingerly settled myself over his lap, and  he spanked slowly. Lifted up the skirt. Continued the spanks. My heart was thudding. I'm really here...I'm doing this...I can't believe it.

And then it started to feel really good. That perfect in-between-hurting -a -little- and -hurting- a -lot place.

As he spanked, he started to talk. "This is what needs to happen to girls like you, Bonnie-jo. You need to be spanked. You need to be spanked on you bare bottom." I giggled.

"And sometimes," He smacked extra hard, and I let out a small yelp. "Sometimes, girls like you need to be taught a lesson. Especially if they've been making fun of their discipliner's age when they've talked to him online." SMACK! "You had fun playing games and making jokes, didn't you, Bonnie-jo?" Smack, Smack, Smack, Smack!

"Yes!" I giggled. It really wasn't hurting at all.

"And that's fine with me." He paused the spanking and said, "But tomorrow, I expect there to be no games, no backtalk, no funny and cutesy Bonnie-jo. Tomorrow is about a serious spanking. Do you understand?"

I said nothing. I may have giggled.

"Do you understand?"

No answer. This is how you test your spankers, dear brats. Especially if the spanking is feeling amazing.

"Get up." He commanded. I rose. He kept his hands on my arms and pulled me gently onto his knee. "Sit."

"I know what you're doing, Young Lady. You want to push me into spanking you hard tonight."

I nodded. "Yes."

"It's not going to work. You'll get your hard spanking tomorrow. You may wish you'd never asked for it. But for now, you must wait."