Saturday, August 9, 2008

The one that made me cry

In all the spankings I've gotten as an adult, very few of them have made me cry. As is true with most other people I've talked to about being spanked as an adult, the tears are far more about emotion than about pain. I tend to get moody, and sometimes, a good hard paddling is just what I need to ... well... adjust my attitude.

This particular spanking took place when I was living with R. and P. - He spanked her, they both spanked me. I'd had a really bad attitude for a couple of days. Nothing in my life seemed to be going right, and I was quite irritable about it. The three of us were out at Applebees for lunch. We were talking about the fact that I had blown out the engine on my car, and that I needed a job, but couldn't look for one without the car. I don't remember the exact details, but R. was making suggestions about how to deal with things, and I was shooting his ideas down as quickly as he was coming up with them. We were both getting frustrated, and I finally snapped at him one too many times. He gave me the look I had come to know very well and said, "That attitude of yours has gotten out of control, young lady, and I'm going to fix it when we get home."

My stomach flip-flopped and my throat tightened. I was in for it. "Yes, Sir," I said. My attitude was much more subdued the rest of the meal. I didn't really taste my food much because I knew I was going to get a hard spanking, and that's all I could think about. R spanked hard when he wasn't mad at me. And he was not at all happy with me now.

He didn't waste much time when we got home. He got his favorite paddle... I don't know what kind of wood it was, but it was big and it hurt... and he pulled the leather chair out into the middle of the living room and we stood behind it. He pointed at the back of the chair with the paddle. "Get your britches down and get over there," he said.

Oh shit - he was starting out with me bare bottom. Usually he started over my jeans, but not when I was in serious trouble with him. "Yes, Sir," I said as I unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans, pushed them and my panties down and bent over the back of the chair. That chair - it was just the right height. Bending over the back of it put my bottom high in the air, and I had to reach a bit to get my hands on the seat, so it took some work to get out of position once I was in it. A perfect punishment spanking chair.

He didn't start the spanking immediately. Instead, he started lecturing me, with me there with my bare bottom stuck up in the air. I don't remember everything he said, but it was about my attitude, about being respectful, about how hard the spanking I was about to get was going to be, about how I was going to remember this one for awhile. My part in the conversation was all "Yes, Sir" or "No, Sir."

Then the paddling began. It was hard. And fast. I don't mean it was over quickly, I mean the swats came one after another. He had spanked me that hard before, but it had always been slow, giving me some time between swats. It hardly seemed like the paddle had left my bottom before it was coming down again. It hurt, and it hurt alot. And the swats just kept coming.

I can take a very hard spanking and I usually maintain my composure pretty well no matter how much it hurts. But my emotions were raw, and I needed this spanking. And I needed it just as hard as he was giving it to me. Still, I tried to be tough, to take what he was giving me without breaking down. But he was not letting up. Those who know me well know that I'm about to break during a spanking when I put my hands on my head and grab my hair - I didn't even know I did it until someone told me. But anyway, I was about to break, and I buried my face in the cushion of the chair and my hands were clenched in my hair.

Then, somehow, he managed to make the swats come down even harder. A few swats later, I started crying. No, not crying, sobbing. All the feelings I'd had going on that I'd kept bottled up inside came pouring out. Between sobs I managed to say I was sorry. And when he asked me if this was going to help me with my attitude, my answer was a very sure "Yes, Sir!" He lightened up the swats some, but didn't stop right away.

When he finally did stop, he let me stay over the chair until I had stopped crying. When I did stop, he told me I could stand up and pull up my pants. My bottom was on fire, but I pulled my panties and my jeans and started wiping away my tears.

He told me to come sit down so we could finish the talk we were trying to have at lunch. I walked over to the couch and sat down. And for the first time that I'd ever sat down after a spanking, I jumped right back up and asked him if was ok if I stood instead! That was the only time it's happened. I've had plenty of spankings that made me sit a little carefully, but have never had one since that truly made it that difficult to sit afterwards.

1 comment:

Maryann said...

Jess,
Amazing story! I love your writing. I'm adding you to my list of favorite blogs. Thanks for adding your voice to the spanking community.
Maryann