***NOTE:* Thank you all so much for your comments on this tale so far. I've been spanked many times, and written about some of them, but this was a new format for me, and I've kinda liked it. It keeps me accountable for actually finishing it! ;) So hopefully you'll see more like this soon. Tell me what you think please. So here's the end of the spanking, enjoy :) ****
When John punishes me, he does it in a variety of positions, almost all of which involve the bed in some way. I’m almost never over his knee in a chair or couch. But often, for very severe spankings, he has me lay flat on the bed, my face in the pillows, and he kneels next to me, wrapping his strong arm around my waist, and just really laying into me. Other times he puts me across his lap with him sitting against the headboard. Either way, he has completely control over me, and all I can do is submit to his punishment- though that doesn’t stop me from yelling, crying, and kicking my brains out. So this time I lay across his lap, my legs spread very wide as he commanded. John always has me do this. Its why my panties don’t stay at my knees like I like. He has me open as wide as possible so that when he’s done with most of the spanking he can really “drive the point home” as he likes to say by just obliterating that very tender spot on the inside of the sit spot. So I’ll be sure to remember it, as he says. Yeah. As if I wouldn’t remember it otherwise! Sheeze! *rolls eyes*
Anywho…I don’t remember all he said during the rest of my punishment. I’m pretty sure it was scolding with me promising to be the best little girl ever and to never ever ever be that naughty again. The hairbrush fell fast and hard and I was thrashing within moments. I do know that before the first swat ever fell I put my hand back to my lower back for him to take hold of. I knew that I would reach back. I wouldn’t be able to help myself. So I prefer him to have it from the beginning. So that I can squeeze my fist tight around his wrist as hard as I can when the pain becomes too much. So that I can feel him holding me, touching me, in a way that’s meant to be comforting. Because it hurts. John doesn’t pull punches with implements, and his hand falls just as hard as when he hand spanks.
I think I actually started to panic at the beginning- something that happens a lot with me actually when the pain is too overwhelming at first. I yelled frantically for him to please wait, and he did. He paused and rubbed my back, still scolding, saying that when he tells me to do something, he expects me to do it, and this kind of disobedience and bratty attitude will not be accepted. That if I wanted or needed a spanking (which we both knew was the cause of this) then I needed to learn to just ask. My interjection of “but it’s not the same” was quickly cut off with, “I know it’s not quite the same, but you’ve never even given it a chance, and this is where you’re going to end up until then young lady.”
And with that he resumed, the pain just as bad, but with me in a more prepared mental state. I was scared of the spanking of course, but I was never scared of him. That in and of itself is new for me. Being scared of a spanking. I’ve had some very hard punishments in the last year- ones that have lasted for around an hour and involved many implements. But none of them are quite as scary (or I suppose effective) as John’s quick, punishing spankings. They overwhelm me and bring me to tears so quickly. And so within about 2 minutes I found myself sobbing over his lap. I’d kicked my legs too much, trying to block the swats, and he’d effectively trapped them soon after. After a minute more or so, that numbness that comes with hard paddlings started to set in to my delight. Not enough to make it better, but I was able to call myself down and not work myself into another panic. Of course he kept going long enough that the numbness gave way to pain again pretty quickly.
So there I was sobbing, promising for all the world to be the best little girl ever, and that I’m so so so sorry, begging him to stop. And he did. Well, paused at least. “Are you going to be a good girl Kelly May?” “Yes sir! Yes sir! I’m sorry sir!” “No more of this right young lady? No more bratty attitude and disobedience?” “No sir, no more, I’ll be good!” “Well, let’s just make absolutely sure of that sweetheart. Spread your legs.” “Nooooo!!! Sir, no please! I’ll be good I promise!” “Young lady, spread them…. That’s a good girl. Ok, you’re going to get 10 more on each cheek.” “no sir! Please no more!” “yes young lady. You were a very naughty girl and I need to be sure you’ll remember this.”
My hand squeezed tighter around his wrist than I thought possible. I can’t explain the pain that those 20 swats were. He delivers 10 in succession to each side, right in the exact same tender spot. And when he finished I lay there, over his knee, just sobbing, spent. “Come up here baby,” he ordered, though his tone was gentle. He helped me (as he always does) and just moved me on his own. I love that about him. He just moves me where he wants, picking me up as though I were a small child, completely ignoring that I am fully capable of deciding where I want to go and how I want to get there. But this time I was very grateful.
He rest my head on his warm chest, just like always, and I curled myself into his side. Into my spot. He had sunk down a bit and pulled my legs across his body so that my bottom wasn’t hitting anything. So I was curled and he could both hold me and rub my bottom for me. “What do you say?” he asked, knowing I knew the response. “Thank you for spanking me sir,” I said in my little girl voice- I was still completely in that headspace- as I leaned my head up to kiss him. “You’re welcome buttercup. I love you.” “I love you too.” And so we laid there for a long while, just content to be in each other’s arms. And I felt so happy. So right. I got the spanking I needed. That I pretty much asked for. And I felt so loved and comforted and warm. Just perfect. Oh, and SO SO SO SO sore (in fact, when I started writing this story the day after, I was definitely squirming in my chair- something that does not usually happen with me).
Now if only I could have stayed out of trouble for like an hour afterwards! But that’s a whole nother story (with an even happier ending...... ;) )