Valentine's Day Spanking

Well, the spanking was scheduled to take place on Valentine's Day, but it had to be postponed a few days due to some plumbing problems.  But "A couple of days after Valentine's Day spanking" just sounded stupid.  Anyway...

I went to see my friend Vincent a couple of days after Valentine's Day... about two weeks ago.  This was the spanking for forgetting to blow out the candle that ended up starting the fire in my house.  Vincent got some new furniture since the last time I was there, and the arms of the new couch and love seat are just perfect for bending over.

We relaxed and chatted a little before he gave me my spanking.  Then he asked me if I needed to go to the bathroom.  That always means I'm about to get spanked.  I didn't feel like I had to go, but I always try, even if just to give myself a minute to prepare myself for the spanking that's about to come.  Vincent doesn't mess around when he spanks me.  It's for real, and it hurts.  I know all I have to do is say his name if I truly need to stop or take a break, but I'm not likely to do this during a discipline spanking unless something is really wrong.  

When I came out of the bathroom, he told me to bend over the arm of the love seat and see if it was comfortable.  I love that about him... he is always careful to make sure that the only part of me that is uncomfortable during my spankings is my bottom.  I bent over the arm and adjusted myself a little.  I stood back up and told him that I could use a pillow between me and the arm of the love seat.  He got one for me, and told me to bend back over.  I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I should pull down my jeans.  But he hadn't told me to, so I went over the arm of the love seat with them still up.  

I adjusted myself over the arm of the love seat... my bottom at a perfect spanking angle, my toes off the floor, and my upper body resting on the love seat with a pillow to cry into if it came to that.  

He knelt on the floor close to my head and leaned in close to my face.  He does this when he is very serious.  He gets very close and talks very quietly... sometimes he even whispers.  It's far more unnerving than a loud lecture.  My eyes were locked on his.  He told me that I've learned a lot of good lessons in the time we have known each other, and that I was being much more of a good girl than I have in the past.  He said he knew that I hadn't intentionally left the candle burning, but that I had to pay more attention to things like that.  He blew on my forehead.  "That's all it would have taken," he said.  He blew on my forehead again.  "That's it.  And you would have saved yourself a whole lot of trouble."

"Yes, Sir," I said.

He got up and I heard him get his belt.  God, I hate that belt.  I squeezed the pillow against my chest and took some deep breaths.  This was going to hurt.  The belt came down on my bottom.  The jeans I was wearing were kind of loose, and absorbed a lot of the sting from the belt.  (I didn't tell him that... but if he still keeps up with my blog, I guess he's going to find out now).  But even so, it still hurt, and after several strokes, the jeans just didn't seem to matter much.  The cane was next.  

Now there aren't a lot of people that I would let at my bottom with a cane.  In the hands of someone who doesn't know how to use it, it can be dangerous.  But Vincent is damn good with a cane.  Besides that, he reads me, the noises I make, and my body language extremely well.  He had me squirming and burying my face in that pillow.  At one point, my right hand came out from under my chest and started to go back towards my bottom, but he said, "Don't you dare," and I immediately shoved it back under the pillow again.  

After several strokes of the cane, he told me to stand up.  I did, and reached to rub my bottom, but he stopped me and reminded me that he hadn't told me that I could rub it.  He pointed to his left and told me to turn in that direction.  I did.  He told me to undo my jeans.  I unbuttoned and unzipped them.  He stepped behind me and pulled my jeans down and then my panties.  

"Touch your toes," he said.  I bent over and touched my toes.  That's when I really felt the cane!  Wow... I've never felt anything like that before.  It was a 3/8" line of unbelievable sting right across both cheeks.  I sucked in my breath and felt myself start to stand up.  But somehow I managed to only move a few inches before I got myself back down in position.  I don't know how many strokes of the cane I got.  It could have been a dozen, or it could have been 50.  I was just focused on staying in position and listening for instructions.  These weren't wimpy strokes like you see in some videos.  Nor were they brutally hard strokes.  They were perfectly done for me and my spanking experience and caning experience.

He told me to step out of my jeans and panties and stand in the corner with my hands on my head.  The corner has doorways to either side of it, so there is just about enough room for my nose in the corner between the two door frames, and room for my elbows to not touch a wall with my hands on my head. 

After a few minutes in the corner, he told me to stick my bottom out.  I arched my back to stick it out.  "More," he said.  I arched my back as far as I could, but my lower back cramped, and I didn't move very far.  "More," he said.  "Don't make me tell you three times."  I took a step back from the corner and bent over.  He got his cherry wood paddle and gave me several swats with it.  Wow that thing stung more than I remembered it!  

Then he told me he was going to give me ten more with his belt, and he told me to count them.  I took another step back from the corner so I could bend over more.  I had one hand on each door frame, my upper body parallel to the floor, my back arched so that my bottom was sticking out for him.  

He swung the belt ten times, and I counted each one.  Did I mention that I hate that belt?  He told me to get my nose back in the corner.  I did so quickly, before he decided to swing the belt some more.  He asked me if he'd spanked me enough.  "Yes, Sir," I answered.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yes, Sir," I answered.

"Can I put the belt away now?" he asked.  Obviously, he wasn't asking my permission.  He was asking me if he needed to use it some more.

"Yes, Sir," I answered.

"Am I going to have to get it back out again?" he asked.

"No, Sir." I answered.  

"I better not have to," he said.  

"Yes, Sir," I said.  

He put away his belt and paddle, and slid my cane back into my bag.  He sat on the couch, leaving me in the corner for another few minutes.  Then he called me over and pointed to the floor in front of him.  I dropped to my knees and knelt in front of him.  This isn't your typical D/s "kneel."  Vincent isn't my Master.  He is my friend, my mentor, and my disciplinarian.  The kneeling is part of every punishment at some point, either before or after, and it's sometimes part of a serious talk or lecture that may not even involve a spanking.  There are very few men that I would kneel for, but all Vincent has to do is point, and I am immediately on my knees in front of him.  

He asked me if I'd learned my lesson and I tell him that I have.  He motions me closer and I lean into his chest and put my arms around him.  He puts one arm around my shoulders and strokes my hair with the other hand.  This is the best part.

Update

Hi friends,

It's been some time since I've posted, so I wanted to give you all a quick update. I'm writing from work right now, so I have to be kind of careful about what I type... too many people with interested eyes walk behind me at the computer.

My Mentor, the man who promised me he wouldn't disappear on me like some other people had disappeared on me. I got an e-mail from him one day, and everything was fine, and then he was gone. His information on a couple of websites was changed, and his e-mail account was disabled. This was four months ago, and I've not heard from him since. It was hard. I trusted him. He and I had sat and talked, looking each other in the eye, for 8 hours straight. I believed him when he promised me he wasn't going to disappear. I don't understand. I still have the story of our last meeting half written. It's just been too hard to finish since he's been gone.

So Vincent has been taking care of all my discipline since then. That's not a bad thing. I love and respect Vincent. He's a wonderful man, and when the discipline is done, we watch movies and talk and have alot of fun. And he is the most incredible cook. Of course, I always manage to get in enough little trouble while I'm visiting that I get plenty of spankings in the day or two that I'm there. The problem is that we live four hours apart, and our schedules don't allow for visits very often. I'm going this weekend, and it will be my first visit since early December. That's way too long between spankings for me. Way too long to go without discipline.

Vincent and I have a great relationship, and I wouldn't give it up for anything. But I miss the relationship I had with Steve (my Mentor). The two of them are alot alike in alot of ways, but their personalities are as different as night and day. God, I miss him. I miss the groundedness talking to him gave me. I miss everything about him.

I've met with one local guy since Steve disappeared. As I tend to do, I did not get to know him well before I met with him. He spanked very hard. Very, very hard. I can take that. But when he told me that if I wanted him as a disciplinarian, I couldn't get spanked by anyone else, I cried. He thought it was because he was an expert spanker. It wasn't. It was the thought of giving up Vincent for this guy.

Now, with the right person, I have no problem with the thought of him being my only spanker, my only disciplinarian. That's what I want... one person... consistency. Someone who knows me well, who cares. But this guy didn't know anything about me, and I couldn't give up Vincent for him. Besides.... he mumbled. Badly. It was actually kind of funny. I was bent over the stool, bare bottom, (notice how awfully careful I'm being with what I'm typing at work????) and he was paddling me, and he'd ask a question, and I couldn't understand a single word he said. How was I supposed to answer correctly???? Geeze.... Anyway... there was no sense of connection with him. It was just a spanking. There was nothing caring about it. I haven't even talked to anyone besides Vincent, much less been spanked by anyone else, since that day.

I do have some online friends who have been worried about me since I haven't posted anything here, or on my Flickr page, or been on any of the websites I'd been visiting, or even been on Yahoo Messenger for a few months now. I'm sorry to have worried anyone.

I had a fire at my house a couple of weeks ago. It was my fault. I forgot to blow out a candle before I went to bed. The fire it started did $9000 worth of damage to the house, and destroyed almost $42,000 of personal property, including all my computer equipment and most of my photography equipment... all my clothes and shoes....everything in my bathroom.

The cause and origin investigator said it started as an electrical fire. There was no trace of the candle left, and I wasn't mentioning it. He said I was damn lucky to be alive after putting the fire out myself.

So that's what's been going on in this brat's life. I'll try to get some of the things finished that I've got started writing. And I'll have a new one after this weekend. Yep.... I'm getting a red bottom for Valentine's Day. To remind me to never leave a burning candle unattended again.

Jess