Things have been peaceful here. So the anecdote to I am about to share kind of lacks the more dramatic aspects of most of my other ones. But I hope you will appreciate that the bottom line is what happens to the bottom.
We have been thoroughly enjoying one another’s company and doing things that interest us. But I won’t bore you with any of the details about that though. It’s not exactly why you visit here. You want to hear about my last spanking session.
One thing about it is that it was unexpected. With the relative serenity of our lives, I had not been thinking about that aspect of our relationship. Well, not very often, anyway. Then one morning a couple of days ago we were sitting watching television and out of the blue, she says to me “I think you need a spanking today.”
Naturally I objected, saying that there didn’t seem to be a reason for it.
She was not angry or anything like that. In fact, the way she answered me was really sweet and conciliatory. She agreed with me; just not completely. She explained that there was “no reason” in the sense that I have been wonderful company and she had no complaints.
I can recall her words exactly in my mind because they impacted me so much. “I know you better than you know yourself. I can tell when you need a spanking.”
I wanted to convince her that she was mistaken. But as I heard what she said I knew a couple of things. The most important one was that she was right. She does know best about things like that. The second thing was that arguing about it would be a waste of time. So I took the high road and told her those things.
She told me that she was very pleased with me. My “reward” was that I would not have to wait in anticipation. She told me to go into the bedroom and get ready for it.
As I was setting out her chair and her box of implements I was getting that nervous feeling in my stomach. When she came in I was waiting, no pants but my shirt still on. Trying to be as cooperative as possible, as soon as she was ready I got into position without being told to. She expressed her satisfaction with my unusually good “spanking manners”.
She picked up her favorite paddle; its original name was Holy Terror. I have a lot of worse names for it though. Then she went to work. It was not to be the relatively mild session I had anticipated. Why I thought it would be, I don’t know. I can count the actual “mild spankings” I have ever received on one hand. And truth be told, she is exceedingly conscious about being thorough in everything she does.
I wasn’t watching a clock. But it sure seemed to go on for a damn long time. The spanks started coming very quickly one after another right from the start and did not let up. I was in hell within just a few seconds and it kept getting worse. There were so many swats coming that I was sure it was going to end pretty soon. But No! I have no idea why she was so determined to give me what I consider a true disciplinary session. But there it was.
The pace kept on and I kind of lost it. I was frustrated that she was not stopping. I felt more helpless than I have in a long time. And then I was crying like a kid. That should have been enough to end it. But she apparently didn’t think so. I got several more before she was satisfied.
That evening we were out to dinner and she asked me how I felt about the spanking. I thought about it for a moment and truthfully told her that although I could hardly move my bottom on the chair without it hurting, that she was right to do it. I said she definitely knows best about what I need and thanked her again for being there for me in that way.
I guess she has her ways to keep our life the sweet journey that it has become. But oh boy, dos my bottom still hurt.