Well, what do you know? The son of a bitch did me a favor.

Last September, Vincent told me he was stepping down as my disciplinarian. He said he was making way for me to find someone local to give me the attention I needed that he couldn't give me. I was hurt. I was angry. And I was broken-hearted. I started crying so hard one night at work that they had to send me home. I didn't understand. I always had an eye out for someone local. Hell, half the trouble I got in with Vincent involved moving too fast with a local spanker. So I didn't understand how not having a disciplinarian at all was going to make someone local that I clicked with suddenly appear. Vincent said I would be surprised and that one of these days I would say "What do you know? The son of a bitch did me a favor." I was pretty sure he was wrong about that.

I laid pretty low on the spanking scene (if you can even call it a scene here in Oklahoma) for awhile after Vincent. Hell, I was laying pretty low on life in general. I was depressed. I rarely left the house except to go to work. I stopped taking pictures. I stopped going to the gun range. I even stopped cleaning the house. I started sleeping too much, drinking too much, taking too many pain pills. My life was falling apart.

A few weeks ago, I decided it was time to pick myself up and get my shit together. I logged back on to a couple of spanking personals sites and updated my ads. I e-mailed with a couple of guys, and the e-mailing was going well, but one was quite a bit younger than me, and one was the same age. Not total deal-breakers, but I've always preferred men at least a little older than me.

And then I found him. We exchanged a few e-mails, talked on the phone, met for coffee. He's several years older than I am. And, be still my heart, he's a retired Marine. I love, love, love Marines. Oh my God, can he ever give "the look." He had me squirming like crazy when we met for coffee! I got my first spanking from him on Saturday, and my second one yesterday. I don't think I've stopped smiling since we met for coffee. And I've been working hard on getting my house cleaned up. He said yesterday that he thought a little discipline went a pretty long way with me. He's right. It's amazing what I can accomplish with the proper motivation.

I finally understand why Vincent stepped down as my disciplinarian. It wasn't because he didn't care about me. It was because he did, and he knew that in spite of my feelings about it, he wasn't the best thing for me. And as long as I had him, I wasn't going to look seriously for someone local. I was far too loyal to him. I would never have let anyone else in. So... what do you know? The son of a bitch did me a favor.

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

I don't have to go looking for trouble, it finds me all on it's own

There are currently two men in my life - and only two - that I truly and completely trust to give me discipline spankings. One is my Mentor. The other is my very close friend Vincent. I'm a very lucky young lady to have both of these men in my life. They both truly care about ME... I'm much more to them than just someone to get to spank. And I have a great deal of respect for both of them.

The only snag is that neither of them is close enough to meet with on a very regular basis. Perhaps this is supposed to help teach me patience (my Mentor does say I have a problem with patience). Most of the time, I deal with the distance issue pretty well. But sometimes, I get... well... impatient. I want a spanking RIGHT NOW. I don't want to wait.

This was the case this past weekend. Now, my Mentor, knowing that it's not always possible for us to get together when I have the need, is ok with me getting spankings from others for the most part. He wants to know about them... I ask permission. It just feels right to me, especially considering the poor judgments I've made about some of the people I've met in the past.

I had been chatting with a guy online, and had developed a sort of rapport with him. He was off work Monday for Columbus Day, and wanted to get together. I asked my Mentor, and he said it was ok with him. He told me that he wanted me to ask for 20 hard and fast swats over my jeans - as a reminder of part of the discipline spanking I had coming from him.

I did ask the guy for those 20 swats, and he said ok, but we never got to them. I was thinking we'd do them at the end, but I actually ended up safe-wording out of the spanking, because he was literally taking the skin off my bottom.

So I had to e-mail my Mentor and let him know I hadn't gotten the 20 swats he had asked me to get. He was disappointed that I didn't do the one and only thing he had asked of me. I honestly didn't deliberately disobey him. We had some miscommunication. He told me to ask for the 20 "if things work out and he swings a paddle with authority." He thought I should have gotten them first. I didn't know how I was supposed to know if he swung a paddle with authority in order know if things were going to work out so I'd know if I should ask for the 20 swats or not! Yeah... this is how my thinking gets me in trouble!

And then I got an e-mail from Vincent (a response to me complaining about the distance and how much I needed a spanking) saying that I needed to be patient (there's that word again!) and he didn't ever want to hear again that I had let some jerk beat my bottom black and blue because I wanted a spanking so bad that I wasn't as careful as I should have been. This e-mail came almost immediately after I sent him the story of what happened with this guy, so it was NOT a response to that. Yeah.... I had just sent him exactly what he was telling me that he better not ever hear from me again. My response was, "Oh, shit." I got back, "Oh, shit is right, Young Lady."

So. Two of the three men I respect and admire most in the world (my dad's the other, but he hasn't spanked me since I was a little girl, and (I hope) doesn't know I get them now) were now disappointed in me, and I wasn't even trying to misbehave.

Alot of the choices I've made in my life have been poor ones. I've done the wrong thing alot. And most of the time I have known that what I was doing was wrong. I've known that I'd probably get in trouble for it. But this time, I thought I was doing okay. I asked for, and got, permission to get that spanking. I did ask the guy for the 20 swats my Mentor wanted me to ask for. I was clear with him that one of the boundaries was that we stopped if there was any sign of broken skin. And when I realized that he was spanking two raw spots into my bottom, I safe-worded out - something I almost NEVER do.

I didn't think I had done anything wrong, but I was STILL in trouble with both my Mentor and with Vincent.

So I've got a new motto: This is Jessie.... I don't have to go looking for trouble, it finds me all on it's own.

So many players

A few months ago, while I was searching for someone to be a regular spanker, I talked to and met with several different men for spankings. Hey, it was research! Anyway, this guy - I'll call him by his initials CT - he was the same age as I am. That generally doesn't work for me in spanking. I very much prefer my spanker, especially if he's a discipline spanker, to be at least a couple of years older than me. But the first few times I chatted with him, he seemed like a pretty okay guy.

One day, I'd met with another guy for my second spanking from him - I'll write his story another time - but that evening I was sitting on an icepack for the first time in my life. I had chatted with CT the night before, and he knew I was getting a spanking that day. He messaged me when he saw me online.

I wish I had saved that chat, but I didn't. He was trying to get me to let him come over and spank me again. I told him that even if my bottom wasn't more bruised than it had ever been in my life, he couldn't just come over to my house without us meeting in public first. I told him it was my own biggest rule, and a promise I had made very early on to the man who gave me my first true discipline spanking. He kept pushing, and I kept telling him no. He finally gave up.

That same night, I met James. We chatted for hours, and it was an instant connection. I don't want to say too much about him either, because I want to tell his story separately too.

So 8 days later, I'm online in the middle of the night, and CT comes on. Here's the conversation:

CT: good morning
CT: are you online?
JF: I am now
CT: were you sleeping?
JF: I was for a little while, but I have to work tonight (Friday) I usually stay up the night before so I can sleep during the day.... was wiped out, though, so I took a nap
CT: can't sleep here and don't have to work tomorrow
JF: I don't sleep well at night
JF: Never have
JF: one of the reasons I work nights
CT: so the bruises are finally going away?
JF: yeah, just about completely faded finally. Still a small line of yellow on my right upper thigh as of last night
JF: 8 days....
CT: so you need new ones
JF: don't need or want ones that bad though
CT: was it a paddle?
JF: It was several paddles, and he broke two of them
CT: disciplinarian or casual spanker?
JF: I wouldn't really classify him as either of those, really.
JF: he sure was proud of how hard he could swing a paddle
CT: but he did not talk right?
JF: nope... he would ask me if I was ready each time he picked up a different paddle, but that was it
JF: I could have said no, I suppose
JF: But not my style
CT: yes but you didn't and I should spank you for it
CT: I know you do not want a perfect stranger coming over to spank you, but what if I were to tell you I am not perfect
JF: Ohhh...well now you see, I can’t let you do that. Besides the fact that it breaks my own biggest rule like I told you last time…I've found someone for discipline...and if I were to let you just come over here, I’m pretty sure he’d take the skin off my ass.
CT: so you have met someone?
JF: Yeah.... we had dinner the other night. No spanking. Just dinner. Just talking.
JF: We decided to hold off on the spanking since I still had bruises
JF: However... there is a strap hanging on my bedroom wall... waiting
CT: would love to come over and use it
JF: Oh, I'm sure you would...
CT: hand, strap, belt etc...
CT: sounds like you need one anyway
JF: Oh, I always need one
CT: yep sounds like you do and you crave it
JF: Oh I do... totally... I think about it all the time.
CT: well we are both up, with nothing to do......
JF: Are you TRYING to get me in trouble?
CT: maybe, but he would not spank you due to some bruises you would have
JF: Sounds like YOU need a spanking!!!
CT: nope I need to give one young lady! warm up with my hand and move on to a belt etc....
JF: I dare say that my new friend would disapprove greatly of me letting someone else spank me before he does, now that the bruises have faded. And besides, it would be awfully disrespectful of me to do to him.
CT: did you tell them they are gone? When is he due over?
JF: Certainly you are not suggesting that I let you spank me and not tell him about it?
CT: no, not good to lie to a disciplinarian
JF: No, most definitely not.
CT: but when is he due to come over and spank you?
JF: Probably not until Tuesday or so because I work until then
CT: ah so there should be no bruises by then
JF: They should definitely be all gone by then
CT: even any that could happen tonight
JF: Yes, probably so. However...like I said… it would be extremely disrespectful of me to have asked him to wait until the bruises healed, so that my first spanking from him was not on top of someone else’s marks, and then let someone else spank me.
CT: Ok, but means no fun tonight, but I do understand what you are saying
JF: Trust me... I am dying for a spanking. But he makes me want to do things right.
JF: It's awfully new for me!
CT: so have one last fling tonight... it would be fun!
JF: NO! It’s not right, and it’s not worth feeling guilty over, no matter how bad I want a spanking.
CT: ok, no sting of my hand on your backside tonight then
JF: Nope
JF: Too bad for you...
CT: yep
JF: Don’t feel too bad. There’s a whole table of paddles over there that I can’t play with
CT: Too bad for you.....
JF: Yep
CT: though I could give you a hand with them
JF: Good Lord, I bet you were a lot of trouble as a kid!
CT: nope, good kid, and a better spanker
JF: Good kid... right.... nope, don't buy it.
CT: hmm your all worked up aren't you, too much spanking talk and thoughts going through your head..
JF: You have no idea
CT: yes you are eyeing that strap and paddles, just wishing....
JF: I would like to lose that strap, actually! Let the dogs chew on it or something
CT: but the paddles?
JF: Oh the paddles can stay... the paddles are pretty... I like to touch them
CT: I bet you do and like the touch of them
JF: Nothing quite like the feeling of a silky smooth paddle on your skin
CT: ah, well I wish I can talk you into a spanking tonight, a nice long butt warming but you do not want that, or could probably handle it
JF: It’s not going to happen, so you can stop trying to provoke me
CT: when you were getting lots of spankings, what would happen after the spanking, what type of aftercare?
JF: If you're talking sexual, that really didn't happen.
JF: But there was a lot of spanking
JF: And (I'm sure) mutual masturbation
JF: once both parties were alone
JF: I did have one guy who actually said, "I want you to give me a blow job now."
JF: And I said, "Umm.... no."
CT: then what did he do?
JF: He said, "Oh, ok. Sorry."
CT: that was presumptious of him
JF: It was, yes.... poor guy... he actually turned out to be a pretty good friend
JF: And he got his blow job later
JF: From my sister
CT: ? your sister is into spanking?
JF: No, my sister is into having sex
JF: She is a lightweight when it comes to spanking
CT: so your not a light weight? worried about what the other guy would do if I spank you?
JF: NO, I’m not “worried about what the other guy would do” if you spanked me. I respect myself AND him enough not to do let you do it. It’s not about fear, it's about respect, which seems to be something you know nothing about. If I chose to do it anyway, yes, I’d probably get a hell of a blistering, and I would deserve every bit of it. Not wanting that blistering is NOT being a lightweight. Do I want a spanking? Hell, yes. Do I want it bad enough to do something that will disappoint him AND me AND earn myself a blistering in the process? Not particularly. If that makes me a lightweight in your eyes, so be it. I have nothing to prove to you.
CT: OK
CT: well I hope Tuesday is worth it then
JF: It already is
CT: how so?
JF: Because he hasn't laid a single swat on me, and he's been an influence already
JF: If it ended right here.... he has already helped me changed my life. And it needed changing in a big way.
CT: so if it were not for him I would be spanking you right now?
JF: It's possible.
CT: and that is better?
JF: You know, I think it is.
CT: Ok, well I am going to try and sleep some, since no spankings to be found here

Would you believe that after this, I actually let this guy spank me about a week later? Not surprisingly, it was a disaster. Maybe I'll write about it later. Not sure it is worth the time and effort.

Disappointment

My mentor is disappointed with me. This is the first time he's told me that. And, God, I hate it.

I am working on not gossiping at work, and I haven't been doing so well. We just started working on this a little over a week ago, and I've already earned two spankings for it. And worse than the two spankings I've got coming, is the fact that I've disappointed my mentor.

There's not much I like hearing more than him saying that he's proud of me. And not much that hurts deeper than him saying that he's disappointed in me. It actually brought tears to my eyes.

But I sure did keep my mouth shut at work last night. Every time I even thought about saying something I knew I shouldn't, I thought about how much more disappointed he'd be if I had to tell him again, especially the second day in a row, that I participated in the gossip. And how much worse that would feel. As I saw it, my options were:

A) Keep my mouth shut
B) Participate in the gossip, be honest and tell him, disappoint him more, and get more spanking
C) Participate in the gossip, don't tell him (lie), tell him later, disappoint him even more than if I'd told the truth, and get a serious blistering for lying (plus likely get the spanking for gossiping that I didn't get earlier)

C is just not an option. I've been down that road before. I DON'T want to go down it again. I refuse to go down it again. So it's down to A or B - behave or suffer the consequences (in the words of a dear friend). And believe it or not, I actually chose to behave. Now hopefully I'll actually be able to do it two shifts in a row!

Visiting "Momma"

This is an oldie - something I wrote about 10 years ago. This is about a visit with a woman who was sort of a surrogate mother for me for awhile. This is a true story, with a touch of embellishment thrown in here and there for better reading. I never called this woman "Momma" in real life, but it made for a better telling of the story.

I stand in the middle of the yard, my head back, looking up at the stars. You just don't see stars like this in the city. The sky is dark and clear, not that hazy darkness like I have grown up seeing in the city. The stars shine brightly. I can actually see the different colors in them. Some are white, some are yellow, and some even look orange. I've never seen an orange star before. I think about how it takes millions of years for the light of those stars to reach us. And I wonder if someone somewhere is standing in a yard millions of light years away, looking up at their sky, seeing the light from our sun as a small speck of light.

My thoughts are interrupted by Momma's voice calling me to come inside. She is not the mother who gave birth to me, or the mother who raised me. But she is the mother who loves me as her own. I smile to myself, "In a minute, Momma," I call back. I could never have said that to my real mother, and I say it now not to be defiant, but just because I can and know that she will still love me. I take one last sweeping look at the sky, and head inside.

I know why she is calling me in. It is the reason I am here with her this weekend instead of at my home in the city. I am going to be spanked. I am strangely comforted by this thought, although I am a little scared as well. I don't like it when Momma has to spank me. But she does it because she loves me. She loves me enough to blister my bottom when I need it, even though it hurts her to do it.

I'm going to get a few spankings this weekend. Like Momma says, I am used to being a rule breaker instead of a rule follower. The last time I visited her, she told me to call her when I got home so she would know I got there safely. I forgot to call and she worried about me. That's what the spanking I'm about to get is for. She is going to send a message to my brain, by way of my butt, to remember to do what I'm told.

Momma and I go into her bedroom, where she is going to spank me. She sits on the bed and I stand facing her as she lectures me about not calling. She tells me she asked me to call because she cares, and that she was worried when I didn't because she didn't know if something had happened to me. This is the second time hearing this particular lecture. The first was when she called me that night to make sure I was okay. But now, when I am about to feel the sting of her paddle on my bare bottom, the message sinks in a little more clearly. In a minute, it will become clearer still.

When the lecture is over, she stops and looks at me. "I don't spank jeans, Jessie," she says. The knot that has been growing in my stomach during the lecture grows even more as I unbutton and unzip my jeans. I push them and my panties over my hips and down almost to my knees, and I lie over the bed beside her, my toes on the floor.

This is not my first spanking of the day, and my bottom is already a little tender. Since Momma and I don't live too close together, I get all the spankings I've earned since the last visit all in one weekend. My bottom is more tender with each spanking, and it makes each successive one just that much more effective. I guess that's good. I have a pretty tough bottom, and the effects of just one spanking wear off pretty quickly for me. But when I get several in just a couple of days, well, then it lasts longer, and I remember the lessons every time I sit down for awhile.

I make myself as comfortable as I can lying there on the bed, but I won't be comfortable for long. Momma's paddle comes down across my bottom, and I jump. I am always surprised by how much that thin little paddle stings. It comes down again and again, sometimes alternating between one cheek and the other, sometimes several swats in a row landing in the same spot. I start to squirm as the sting builds up into a fire. I squeeze my hands into fists, gripping the blanket to keep myself from trying to reach for my bottom.

Momma continues her lecture as she spanks me. "You will call me when you are told to. You will not worry me like that again. Do...you...un...der...stand?" She accents each syllable of this question with a particularly hard smack of the paddle.

"Yes, Ma'am," I gasp.

She continues the smack per syllable rhythm on my bottom as she tells me one more time how worried she was and that she is spanking me because she cares.

She stops spanking me for a moment. I am surprised to find that the fire continues to build in my backside even though she's not spanking me. "Why am I spanking you?" she asks me.

"Because I didn't call when I was supposed to and I worried you," I answer.

"And?"

"Because you care about me."

"That's right." She continues the spanking, delivering one stinging smack after another to my bottom. I didn't think the fire could get any hotter, but it is. It hurts more and more with every smack. Tears begin to well up in my eyes, and I finally let them go. I am not crying so much from the pain in my bottom as I am from the emotion. I have had spankings that were far worse than this and not shed a tear. But with Momma, I don't have to prove how tough I am or how much I can take. There is genuine emotion in this for both of us, and that is what allows me to cry now. Momma keeps spanking me for another minute or so, to make sure she drives the point home.

And then it is over. I like here for a moment and just cry, my face buried in the blanket. Momma reaches over and rubs my shoulder. "You're my good girl, Jessie," she says to me. "I don't like spanking you, but you need it. And I won't hesitate to do it every time you need it. Understand?"

I look at her and nod, still too filled with emotion and tears to speak. She motions for me move closer. I do, and she holds me in her arms as my tears begin to dry. I feel so safe with her arms around me. So loved. And even though I'm a 28 year old woman lying here in Momma's arms, I feel all of about 8. And in a way, I guess I am. I'm growing up again, but this time with the strict but loving discipline I wanted all along.