4.08.2011

Details

It seemed like a rush. He kisses me fast, we say our hellos. Grabs my bags, and then he is off in his characteristic fast walk that I have to push myself to keep up with. We are on the second floor of the hotel. But no matter. He picks up my rolling suitcase and carries it to the next floor, no time for elevators, with me trailing behind him, chattering away "How do you feel? One year since we've been to this very same hotel. And we're dating now..." He answers my questions as he walks, throwing them over his shoulder. And then we are at the door, in the door, putting my stuff in corners of the room.

"I have to go to the bathroom, give me one minute." Our beginnings have become a sort of dance, with me characteristically prolonging the inevitable. And I'll let you in on a secret, it's usually because I want to start up so badly that I try to savor the moment.

I pop back into the room moments later.
"Lose the flip flops" he says, "And get on the bed." We spend a bit of playful time there, and then it is on to business. He puts me over his knee. I had been promised a thorough warm-up before this spanking--this spanking that was going to be the"somewhat erotic-but really hard spanking" I had asked him for. We had a bit of discipline to get out of the way first, but then it was supposed to be a spanking that would be nice and awful all at once.

I still have my jean shorts on as the OTK paddle thuds softly onto my rear end. I bite back what I want to say, namely, "What are you doing? Why are you going so soft? Where is your hand for this warm up? Where is my bare skin getting warmed? What do you think you can possibly do through my shorts?" But the combination of his implement of choice and the degree of clothing I have on is more acceptable than me losing the shorts and him continuing with the implement. So I wisely keep my mouth shut.

And soon I am biting back little squeals because these shorts are awfully short, and he has begun using more force and  interspersing little spanks to my unprotected thighs.

Then,
"Get into the corner, now."
"Which one?"
"That one over there."
I giggle. The room has random lamps and other objects in the way of all of its corners. "That's not a corner."
"Move it."

I do so, and he adds, "I want your shorts and panties down but not off."
I take my time pulling them down and leave them more on than off. He lets out a sigh of disgust and pulls them all the way down for me, smacking my butt for my insolence. I try to hide my grin but give up struggling with my face. I'm grinning. But after a moment of standing with my hands on my head, my smile fades. My butt starts itching/stinging in a way I've never felt before. It hurts in tiny little splatters, here and there, like pins and needles. I stamp my foot, trying to get some relief.

"Don't move, Bonnie-jo."
ARRRRRRGGGGGGGGG. It is perhaps the most annoying moment of the whole spanking, the moment that employs the most self-discipline, but I get through it.

"Turn around and come over here." He is sitting on the couch. "Kneel in front of me."
I do so, feeling very submissive and serene. It's all going to be okay.
Reality check.....
He begins, "This is the discipline part, okay. I'm going to give you 100 with Gepetto." Perhaps he talks more, but this is all I hear for awhile.  My mouth has dropped open. I'm looking down, trying to fight the many impulses: get up, run away, cry, beg, tell him no.
He is lecturing me on what I did--procrastinated on days when I could have gotten lots of needed schoolwork accomplished. When he starts numbering what I've done and how this is the third time he's addressed it, I fill with shame.
"Look at me!" He grasps my face in his hand, forcing my eyes to his gaze. Whenever he does this it's a rush for me: first adrenaline, then embarrassment, then this submissive feeling where I meet his gaze. But today, I keep moving my eyes.
"Bonnie-jo," He warns, my face still in his hand. "If you do not look at me I will cane you."
So I do. I meet his gaze and don't break it. He has said the magic words.
"Do you have anything to say?" He asks me.
"No, yes, uhhh..no...yes..What..What about the rest of the spanking?" I quaver.
He smiles. "I'll give you time between this and the rest of it. You'll be able to make it."

I place myself over his lap, and begin whimpering before he has even touched me. I can tell he feels some kind of pity, because he says before he starts, "Just try to focus on getting through it, okay." I don't hear through my whimpers, so I say "What?" And he repeats himself. Has anyone noticed how hard it is to listen when you're thoroughly in dread of a spanking?

I try to just exist as he spanks. At first  But then he pauses. I didn't know pauses were allowed in discipline, but these ones are so helpful. "Take a breath, Bonnie-jo." He says. And when he begins again, I have new resolve.

When he is done, he tells me to get up. Pulls me into the bathroom. Firmly pushes me down, onto the closed toilet seat. "Sit here. No, sit, all the way on the lid. I want you to stay here, feel that sting, and think about what you did. It cannot happen again. The procrastination is stopping. It will stop. Hands on your head. I want you to think about it."

Later, the "fun part" has begun, and discipline is over. I'm on the sofa on all fours, and he has his belt out.  As each stroke falls, I arch my bottom out, ready, hungry for more. Well, at 4 out of 5 strokes I want more. Every 5th or so stroke has me yelping and falling back down onto the sofa. And then I raise my bottom up again to meet him, wondering how long it will take for me to use up my desire for this. Yes, belts are nice things, but what's to come isn't so nice. And I know this. Thankfully, he sets down the belt frequently and uses his hands in other ways, not spanking, if you know what I mean.

Then he ties my hands behind my back. I have decided that being tied up isn't a feeling I particularly like, and I never really have. What turns me on is the tying part. The process of being tied, the rope placed around you, the feel of him threading it through, the drag of it on various and sundry body parts as it wisps at flesh, the way he tightens it just enough, tests it to see how it will hold. This is what I love. But then I am immobile and slowly but surely spiralling into a slight claustrophobia--just enough to make me very turned on and very sensitive, and speedily approaching the limits of my feelings of any kind of control over myself.

It is at some point during the caning that follows, a caning, I should add, that is a very kind caning as far as canings go--cane swipes with much space in between swipes to allow me to breath and him to soothe my burning skin with his hand and his kisses. But during this caning I reach a kind of climactic need, a need, I'm not sure for what. I feel like I want to cry, to scream, to sob, to fall asleep,  and to cum, all at once. The feeling is too powerful and I don't know what words to use to let him know. So instead, and I still don't know how this happens, because that rope was on tight to start off with, I wiggle my wrists out of the bondage rope.

He doesn't notice for a bit, and then he does. "That was foolish."
"I know, I know.." I laugh. "Uhh...it was just too much. I didn't know what to do."
"You could have used your mouth and let me know."
"I know, I know...I was scared."
"Is that an apology?"
"Oh. Yes, yes, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I should have talked to you." I crawl off his lap and he gets of the bed.

"Bonnie-jo, I'm going to punish you for that. You can't just go and do what you want without talking to me. 6 swats with the three-holed paddle."
I moan. "Okay, okay."
"Keep your feet on the floor."
These swats hurt like hell. And I suddenly realize that this sorority-style paddle can really hold its own alongside that cane. It is almost a relief to know that after these 6 swats, I have the cane to look forward too.
He ties me back up. "If you need a break, you need to let me know with your mouth."
"Hmm..speaking of which." I say suggestively, "That's a good idea. I can think of a really good break."
He smiles. "Do you want to?"
"Yes, but I'll need a glass of water first, or else it won't be a very good one."





4 comments:

  1. Grand details!
    You are a very charming writer and I thoroughly enjoyed that!
    And your man is a good top.
    Yes, it is very difficult to think while being spanked, much less listen...N. always holds off discussion until he thinks i am focused, though I am often not, and it is only later that some of his words come back to me.
    I still say (saw your comment on my post) that the 100 with Gepetto would have done me in! And to be caned and belted on top of that? Golly!
    Emily

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  2. Wow, that sounds like a great spanking! I'm not sure I could make through all of that either. I love the concept - I'm not sure about the reality!! :)

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  3. Thanks for your very kind comments, Emily. I'm so glad you enjoyed it! The 100 with Gepetto were not all hard, as he was holding back just a bit...still I have asked him, "Next time we meet up, can you spank me not as hard?" And he says he agrees since I haven't done anything to deserve discipline.
    Hpmph. Not sure what I think about that.

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  4. JW--yup that comment was in spam too, so I just found it now. I'll need to check that spam folder regularly. :)
    I'm glad you liked it. I many times like the concept better too...I hear ya.

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