I Feel Better Now

I was completely out of control and I knew it, but knowing it did nothing for me.  Perhaps it even made it worse.

The weekend had been horrible and College Guy and I finally had some time to talk Sunday night.  He had me bend over for the cane, my hands on the bed.  He told me I would receive six cane strokes.  Each and every one hurt so badly, and yet, the part of my brain and heart that had been in so much pain all weekend craved the pain in my bottom.  If only my body could hurt as much as my mind and heart were hurting, maybe I would find some relief.

And then, he pulled me onto his lap and we talked.  Things were not resolved, but they were a bit better. Still, when he told me to stand up and that I was getting six more cane strokes to end everything, I slouched down on the bed and stared off into the distance.  I wasn't about to obey him.  Not because I didn't want six cane strokes.  But because I needed to know that he would make me take them.

We were still talking, and I remember saying, "You don't feel like I do!  You don't hurt like I do!  You're fine right now, and I'm in such pain. You can't understand how I feel. I don't know how you feel at all. "

He dropped the cane and pulled me over his lap.  Then a flurry of  spanks to my thighs began.  He focused on one thigh and then switched to the other.  It was methodical but so harsh.  After he had paid attention to both thighs, he began, "I hate that this is happening.  I was so scared this weekend when you acted that way. Do you understand me?"

And then he attacked both thighs, first one for awhile, and then equal amounts were given to the other.  And then he told me more.  He brought up things I had done that weekend and told me how they had made him feel.

Then he spanked my thighs--hard. I could hear the anger in his voice, but I was not the least scared by it, because I could also tell that it was being controlled. He talked.  He spanked.

I hadn't had a spanking like this in I don't know how long.  There was no implement.  Just his hand and my nakedness and the pain and his voice.  When he said, "You scared me, do you understand?", I softly breathed, "Yes, Sir.  But I scared myself too."

I didn't struggle.  I was too shocked and too needy.  I had sort of fallen off his lap before the spanking was over, so that I was kneeling on the floor, my upper body over his lap, sobbing softly, letting out the tears I had been wanting to cry so badly for so long.

And then the spanking stopped.  I was still on my knees as I hugged him.  "I feel better now," I remember saying.  "Me too," he said.  We grinned at each other slightly, probably both thinking that if anyone else had witnessed that they would have called it abuse, but that we would have called it therapy.  And in that, I knew that no matter how scared I felt, no matter how much I felt that I was losing myself and the world, I still knew a few things.  I knew I had this and that this made me unique.  And, in the violence of that thigh spanking, coupled with College Guy's words and heartfelt sharing about how he felt about all that had been going on, I knew he loved me.