If you read further, you are acknowledging that the content in this blog is adult in nature and is expressly discussing kinks and sexual exploration. Enter at your own risk, if you are shocked by the act of spanking don’t read any futher. Run away, scram, remain in the dark and just wonder about the pleasures you could be missing out on… or just leave. I won’t hold it against you. Each to their own.
If you do want to jump in and read, be nice peeps, leave a like or a comment or both! I won’t mind and at least I will know you have taken a peek at my bottom adventures!
Most if not all of the photographs/images are courtesy of the internet unless otherwise stated.
When you are out of the usual options, you must do it for yourself!
I needed a good hard spanking so I gave myself one… then another… then another
Then everybody else joined in…
Be yourself; Everyone else is already taken.
— Oscar Wilde.
This blog is about my journey of self discovery, post divorce, and my hedonistic tumble into self-spanking and self-discipline and spanking and being disciplined! I hope you enjoy the journey with me.
This is a journey about discovery of self after a bitter divorce, exploring a long standing kink that had lain dormant for far too long and the experiences it brought about purely by accident rather than design. It is my personal journey, I have changed the names of others to protect their identity but the events are mainly as they happened. Please read with an open mind and heart, we are all original works of art just waiting for someone to appreciate the picture we portray. My picture is finally beginning to see the light of day. All events written here had my full co-operation and consent and were carried out in a safe and caring way. Detailed discussions between both parties took place well in advance of any actual spanking. Nothing was agreed until both parties were happy that what would happen was entirely within the boundaries we had set. My thoughts and feelings were written shortly after each event and in some cases I was highly charged and usually in a lot of throbbing pain but I had loved every single minute of it once the throbbing calmed down some. I decided it was way past time to put all of those experiences, thoughts and feelings in one place to share with you.
Please remember to scroll down to the very first blog, it’s written in order, 1. The First Time. 2. Well THAT hurt! 3. What a Walloping! 4. He Came, He Spanked, then he invited his wife around for the Grand Finale! 5. So much for never again! I need a spanking! etc etc etc.
I hope you are enjoying my journey so far. I know I am…
Yes! I almost forgot the pinnacle of his Wheelchair Basketball Career!!
SACK THE MAMA!! LOL
The Boy hung up his hopes of playing for the Great Britain Men’s team, his epilepsy was too unstable for him to commit to the rigorous training schedule they maintained and the gruelling travel schedule, but as time went on and he returned to the Bball courts for his home team(s) on a regular basis and ramped up his training sessions, his epilepsy stabilized for a time. We learned how to deal with the absences and we had managed to reduce the impacts of stress to a point where he would only experience a few absences a month now instead of 20 or 30.
Life became more like it was supposed to be for him, fast paced, high octane, full on wheelchair basketball and no apologies or regrets. Just living in the moment and loving the hell out of it and life. For both of us.
By now, I was in the second year of my happily divorced state and I had changed tremendously. I had relaxed! I had stopped having to micromanage every single moment in case it upset the now ex husband, and just concentrate solely on the boy and keeping him well balanced and healthy. His ‘happy’ has always come from deep inside him, as it should.
It was around the time of his 22nd birthday that the Welsh International Coach approached The Boy’s Coach and put forward the request for any and all Welsh players over 19 and under 25 to go to South Wales for trials to be selected for the Under 25’s Squad and represent their Country in an upcoming Celtic Cup Tournament to be held in Northern Ireland.
The Boy’s Club Coach made the suggestion to him and his face when he heard those words… oh my goodness! I still get choked up just thinking about the look on his face. A light that had not been present in him for a good few years, suddenly came back on and it shone from him. He was positively beaming!
Then the worries and a long hard discussion came, he, his Coach and I, discussed at great length the implications of his epilepsy on his long term ability to play at International level and I can tell you this, The Boy schooled us both in the lesson of expectation versus reality.
He said, ‘I am not looking at a long term life commitment here, I am looking at one Golden opportunity to play at International Level and take my game as far as I can, as high as I can reach and for just one tournament at a time. I have no greater expectations of this opportunity than one tournament! I’m going in for the trials, will you support my decision?’
YES!!! HELL YES!!! Both his coach and I were humbled and awed at the level headedness of his thinking and of course, the Man he had now become. My Boy was a Man any mother would be proud off but especially me because I made him! (The gave birth sort of made him, not made his career, that was his own doing!)
He sent an email to the Welsh Coaching team to express his interest in trying out for the squad and he was sent an invitation to attend the first set of trials/training sessions.
We packed bags, brought his chair up to tip top condition, new tyres, straps, castors etc and we were travelling from the North to the South within a matter of weeks. His first sessions were brilliant! No absences, no illness just pure focus and sheer exhilaration that he was here, he was doing this and nothing was going to stop him.
He attended both days of trials which were 7 hours of training each day and returned home with dates for the next set of trials in two weeks time! He had gotten over the first hurdle! He was on his way up the ranks!
During the interim two weeks he attended every training session the Club put on. I want to put this into a little perspective, The Boy had changed Clubs at 19 due to bullying taking place courtside during matches and during training sessions. Favouritism and nepotism had shown its ugly face in what used to be a great club and the camaraderie that used to be present had been chipped away. Things came to a head when I witnessed one of the senior players pushing the boy around on the courtside. He is very non-confrontational and would not retaliate at all, so I did and that is where I shall leave that.
I then gave him the opportunity to change clubs and join a club where he could be happy and feel like he belonged again. He jumped at the chance and so now we travelled for 70 minutes to do a 120 minute training session and then drive for 70 minutes to get home again. We did this three times a week (sometimes 4) most weeks during the game season, 2 training sessions, 1 or 2 matches depending if both teams had a game on the same day. It was worth it, the difference in the Boy was immense. I would rather drive the extra mileage than give someone an opportunity to destroy his confidence! The bully had been dealt with too, I made sure of it.
Two weeks passed really quickly and before long we were back in South Wales attending another 14 hours of training. At the end of those sessions, the squad was selected and the Boy was moved to tears when his name was called out as a member of the Wales International Under 25’s Squad.
He managed to hold his tears in check, I couldn’t, I was openly and proudly crying like a baby! He had done it, he had reached the lofty heights of International Player Status! Now the real work would begin and he was more than ready for the challenge!
THAT’S MY BOY!!!!
To be continued… (This story is far too long for one post…)
In order to protect the Boy’s identity, I have not included any personal photographs of his time playing wheelchair basketball. But, just in case anyone is interested, the red image of a player shooting at the top of the post is actually the silhouette of a superb Canadian International player called Patrick Anderson, who is by far and away (in my humble opinion) the World’s BEST Wheelchair basketball player, ever! Many of the up and coming stars of the future have followed Pat’s career and wish to emulate him and his skill on the basketball court. He is a fine advocate for fair play and is a true gentleman of the game and also of life. It is a pleasure to be able to use the image. Look him up on Youtube! Be truly awed!
I haven’t talked about the boy for a while. I thought it was time to tell the final part of his story which will bring us up to present day. I left you where he had just been diagnosed with epilepsy. Grand mal and Petit mal storming full force and wreaking havoc with his life. All the plans he had made for his future came to a grinding halt and his life turned upside down and inside out.
At 19 he was in full time college studying IT and Web design, he was also about to start driving lessons and he was trying out for the GB team and had just started training with them once a week. It all stopped.
He couldn’t concentrate in college and missed so much lecture time that he failed the course, he couldn’t retake it because he would have had to start right from the beginning again because the college system had changed. He would have to sign up for a course he had already completed which now incorporated his course in it’s second year and he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He said, ‘What’s the point? I will only be ill again and it will all disappear again. I will fail another course and get no further on.’ I can’t say that I blame him. His concentration was at an all time low and he was in a downward spiral mentally for a while. He was tired of fighting. He couldn’t focus on his basketball, he was having random absences during training and at that level with GB it was dangerous for him to be on court. He decided he should just focus on his club basketball for the time being and look at International level when his epilepsy settled down. He couldn’t take driving lessons either because of the absences (petit mal) so he had to hand in his provisional license. He was effectively grounded indefinitely.
Despite all of the struggles with his health he managed to stay cheerful enough. We learned pretty early on that his epilepsy was stress based. If he got stressed out he had an absence. The meds he is on maintained the grand mal seizures and fits but the petit mal was making appearances on a frighteningly regular basis. The doctor decided he should take an extra tablet every day to combat the absences. Great, now his quality of life disappeared out of the window completely. 5 tablets a day was guaranteed to turn him into a zombie. He would sit staring at the television and had no interest in going to basketball at all now so I weaned him off the 5th tablet and he came back down to 4.
Gradually he became more himself again and we changed Basketball clubs and he started training with a new team. It wasn’t long before he was back in to the game full swing and going for it. He was playing back to back games for the club div. 3 team and div. 1 team. He was in his element and Basketball once again took over our lives. We travelled the length and breadth of the UK jumping from one ball hall to another pretty much every weekend and training three times a week. His absences were still kind of out of control but after a lot of observation about what was going on in his life when they happened we began to get a clearer picture of where the root cause was seated. Stress.
Finally we worked out that if we managed his stress better and I could catch it before it got to him, he could reduce the amount of absences without the need for further medication. The doctors were not pleased at all. ‘The absences disappear with the 5th tablet, why won’t you let him take it?’ they would demand to know!
‘Because he bloody disappears with the 5th tablet! I want him to still be here not monged out like a zombie! He has to be able to function!’ I replied!
One Doctor had the utter audacity to say, ‘well, he is disabled, you do have to limit your expectations for what he will be able to do as he gets older. He would be better if his medication prevented the entire epilepsy. At least he wouldn’t be dealing with that as well.’
F**k him. The Boy would live his life despite their best efforts to prevent it.
None of what the doctor said made a jot of sense to me. I couldn’t fathom where the hell his head was at with his thinking and I promptly told him to go to hell in a bucket of fire and get the hell of my son’s case. He wasn’t fit to practice!
I had many such conversations with many different doctors over the next few years until the boy turned 21 and fell ill again. This time he spent his 21st birthday in hospital being monitored for inexplicable bouts of sickness. No one could explain it, no one really wanted to try. After a week of inconclusive testing he was sent home and declared fit again. Except he wasn’t fit. He was far from it. He was on antibiotics almost constantly, as soon as he came off them he would be sick again and we would be right back at square one. No one was looking for the cause, everyone just wanted to treat the symptoms and blame his disabilities, or blame a UTI (urinary tract infection). Have some antibiotics.
This was the second year of a five year battle to get someone to listen to me and diagnose his failing kidneys and dead bladder. This was almost the end for the Boy. Almost but not quite. Only one Doctor listened and he saved his life 5 years ago this year. I have already written that part of his story, right back at the beginning of his journey. That was the reason for these the BOY posts.
We are still dealing with the aftermath of those ignored 5 years. The boy no longer plays his beloved sport of Wheelchair basketball, he hung his wheels up after he collapsed on court during a match and the doctor said he couldn’t explain it. He must have a UTI, here have some antibiotics and come back in a week if you are no better. Welcome in the boy constantly washing his hands to the point of blistering to try to prevent infections/germs causing more illness. Here comes a still active case of mild hand washing ocd on top of everything else. We have it down to he can wash his hands ten times a day, we are working on getting it down to 3 times a day.
At least you are not in pain young man! The doctor said to him one day when discussing his health with him after another random attack of sickness.
Oh for F**ks sake, don’t even get me started! I couldn’t even be bothered to correct the ignorant idiotic man. So, this brings me full circle and to present date with the Boy and his health and how Dog came to be in his life and how he has sketched out a new life for himself within the limitations of his health. He has developed an interest in photography and walking the dog for hours along the beach near us. At least he hasn’t given up.
We are both exhausted and just rumble along these days. We have no expectations of greater things than he wants to achieve, for me the fact that he wakes up every day and is still with me is all I need to put a smile on my face and we laugh, a lot, about everything and anything because that is better than being bitter and disillusioned with life. The Boy is now a Man and I am proud to say he is my son. I made him. He took what I made and made it perfectly imperfect. That’s good enough for me.
He is and always will be my Perfectly Imperfect Boy.
This was my first attempt at a set punishment from the program. See the first two punishments? They were fine, 320 and 390 was about 10 minutes a piece with the machine set on max. and I was all good with that. The third one, 430 with the belt slapper, let me just tell you about that nasty little implement. It’s lethal! Stings like nothing else and leaves pitted marks and welts on your bottom for hours afterwards! So not quite as ‘all good with that’ as the first two punishments. But still feeling it, and I was already building up some excitement and dread for what was coming.
Now, the fourth punishment, OMG! 1500 swats with the hairbrush? Really? Jeez, I want pain not absolute torture! That is the equivalent of roughly 45 minutes with the machine on max power! F*@K!
Punishment Certificate This certificate dictates that Gemma, for the reason of being a very bad girl will receive the following punishment.
Four sets of spankings. Set One: 320 swats with a butter paddle and Gemma bent over Set Two: 390 swats with a Jokari paddle and Gemma laying on the bed Set Three: 430 swats with a belt slapper and Gemma laying on the bed Set Four: 1500 swats with a wooden hairbrush and Gemma bent over. These spankings will be carried out with Gemma’s bottom bare.
Brilliant program, I need to calm it down some though FFS! My bottom will have no skin left!
No matter, I was going for it! I needed a spanking and the random punishment selector had provided a format for one. It felt good not really having any control over what would be used or how many spanks I would take. More like being spanked than spanking myself. I set up the machine and got myself ready for a really hard spanking.
I have a new checkered mini skirt that I wanted to try out for a spanking scene so I set my bedroom up with the necessary implements and I stripped naked. Over the years I have worked out that wearing a bra is basically a complete waste of time and my puppies refuse to stay inside their restraint anyway so of late I have dispensed with the article completely when preparing for a spanking, preferring to bounce freely and on full show should there be an unsuspecting window cleaner about his business. I never draw the curtains, I don’t see why I should.
I pulled on a pair of stockings and attached them to my suspender belt, I dispensed with the need for panties too, no point they were coming off again in a matter of minutes and I didn’t have the luxury of time to linger over dressing, not if I was going to get the full spanking done! I slipped my feet into my 4″ black stilettos and stood and inspected my bottom framed by the suspenders in the mirror. It was very creamy and nicely rounded and just begging to be spanked! The spanking from a few days before hadn’t even left a mark! I’ve never had a caning before where there wasn’t still some evidence a few days later that it had happened! Just goes to show how hard Graham actually caned me in the past! I miss Graham! I love the way my mind works when I’m setting up for a spanking. I get flashbacks from previous sessions and before I have completed my set up routine I am moist and my tummy is curling with anticipation and dread in equal measure.
I was in the zone now, the frisson of excitement curled through my belly and down to my pussy making her throb in anticipation. I was already moist and I could smell my sex, the scent was filling my senses and making me even more turned on than I was already. I slipped into my mini skirt and once again inspected my image in the mirror. There is something very sexy indeed about a woman only half dressed with her naked breasts and taught hard nipples on show. I tweaked them hard and flicked them a little just to be sure they were singing the same tune as my pussy.
The mineral oil was sitting on the dresser waiting for me, and I applied liberal amounts to my cheeks and thighs and then a good covering for the butter paddle. I placed two pillows on the edge of the side of the bed facing the window and I positioned myself over the high mound. This made my bottom raise up very high and I slid the mini skirt up and rested it above my hips and tucked the hem into the back of my suspender belt. I was ready for a hard, fast spanking with a very painful paddle.
I prepared my bottom with a warm up hand spanking for 5 minutes to each cheek and thighs and then I positioned myself in front of the butter paddle and switched the machine on. CRACK! The first smack landed then a second later the next one came in and set up a sting across both cheeks, I moaned deeply as the first flush of blood raised up and bloomed underneath the tender skin. CRACK it landed flush against my cheek again and this time it gripped my bottom and stuck to the mineral oil for a second before releasing it. It felt like I had been bitten and I moaned even more deeply. The machine arm was swinging again, and I adjusted my position so this time it landed against my thighs, it is such a small paddle but it packs a real wallop and it caught my thighs full on and I moved and jumped as the next one landed and nipped at my pussy lips as it scorched my skin with a stinging blow. I yelped and rolled my hips and waited a second or two to release the throbbing that was already beginning to build in my bottom. My pussy was already throbbing delightfully anyway and my bottom needed time to catch up.
Before long the machine was paddling my bottom furiously and eliciting yelps and howls and moans and wails with each smack of that paddle. My thighs were throbbing and stinging, my cheeks were turning a beautiful deep red and I continued to hold the position and reset the machine for a further 5 minutes on max power. Ten minutes in total but the paddling had produced a wonderfully hot and stinging throbbing bottom and thighs. I was happy with the blush that covered my twin globes.
I gave myself 5 minutes corner time to allow the throbbing to really settle in, the next part of the spanking was with the Jokari Paddle and it was too big to go in the machine arm, so I was going to be swinging it myself which made this spanking section a counted one. 390 spanks. I figured 10 more wasn’t going to kill me so I rounded it up to an even 400. 200 each cheek.
I moved to the side of the bed this time, which positioned me right in front of the window and the open curtains. I get a little thrill out of the idea that anyone walking along the top of the road could see into my bedroom as they walk by. My house sits on an incline and the bedroom is actually kind of level with the road way. Buses go past every couple of hours and it’s occupants could get an eyeful if they happen to glance at my house. I don’t care. My tummy is curling with anticipation again and my pussy is throbbing happily away, the heat covering my bottom is lovely and the deep throbbing has really taken hold. I bend over the bed, tuck my skirt in at the back again and raise the jokari paddle. It lands with a real Crack across both cheeks and stings as it grips the twin surfaces. I quickly deliver ten strokes and count out loud as I go. I swap hands and deliver 10 more. My bottom is stinging painfully now, and I have begun to grimace as the spanks land with unerring accuracy across both cheeks. After the first 100 spanks I have started to hop about a little and wriggle under the onslaught, I aim for my thighs with the next sets of 10 each side and damn that hurts! My thighs had settled right down from the earlier spanking and this 20 was a shock for them. They are throbbing hottly and I wince as I deliver 20 more to the same areas. At the 200 mark I am beginning to wish I had rounded the number down. That final 10 might actually break my bottom. I am now in a world of pain as I continue to rain down spanks on both cheeks and thighs in equal measure and the sting and bite increases with each stroke until my thighs feel like they are on fire and I have twin hard spots on my cheeks which are now a lovely shade of deep, deep red. I continue with the spanking until I reach the 400th spank and I collapse on the bed, panting heavily and groaning at the heat emanating from my bottom and thighs. As usual, pussy has now gone to sleep. She only likes the heavy throbbing feeling, not the, ‘you’ve had your ass bitten everywhere’ kind of pain!
I stand up and walk to the corner of the room for 5 minutes corner time, more to rest my arms than anything else, no way can my bottom feel any worse than it does already! I was wrong of course, it can, and it does as a very heavy throbbing sets off in a tight band all across my bottom and my thighs! I just want to sit in a bath full of cold ice water right now to cool of my burning hot cheeks!
I finish the corner time and check the instructions from Anime and groan out loud when I read 430 strokes of the belt slapper, Gemma laying on the bed. I position the spanking machine so that it can spank me while I lay down on the bed and I attach the belt slapper. I am dreading this part, 430 strokes equates to about 12 minutes on the machine and I dutifully set the first 5 minutes and position myself as I switch it on.
Now, this position is a new one for me with the machine, I have always bent over the end of the bed which by default tightens my bottom and thighs. Lying down means my cheeks are plump and soft and when that nasty little slapper lands it gets a good deep spank biting into my cheeks. I howled and then HOWLED again as the slapper went about it’s work of turning my bottom purple, I wriggle up the bed a little to get a different spot on my cheeks and some to cover my thighs and OMG I must be absolutely barking mad to have even thought of moving! The belt slapper has now become my arch nemesis and I am being slapped everywhere because I’m jumping and rolling my hips trying to find a spot that won’t hurt as much. Finally the first 5 minutes are over and I lie prone on the bed sobbing. My bottom feels like it is on fire and I don’t think I can take another 7 minutes of this. I finally stand up and go and stand in the corner for 10 minutes. I am so sore I don’t know where to put myself to relieve the pain. Pussy has long since gone to sleep so no distraction there again. I can see my reflection in the mirror to the side of me and my thighs and cheeks are positively glowing bright red! A stirring of arousal arrows down to my groin as I gently stroke my cheeks and watch my hand smooth over the blistered heated skin. I get lost in the image for a little while until the arousal has turned into a heavenly throbbing in my pussy and I can cope again. 7 minutes left on the clock so I had better get on. I reposition myself on the bed and reset the machine for 5 minutes. This time, I don’t lie flat, I raise my knees slightly and crouch on the bed so that my cheeks are pulled taught. I may as well try every position! I switch the machine on and wait for the first slap to land. It does but I think my cheeks are still numb from the first onslaught and the next 5 minutes are about topping up on that numbness. I can still feel it, but it doesn’t hurt the way it did. I turn the dial again for the final 2 minutes and maintain my position. My fingers are cupping my pussy to keep the throb alive and well and I am feeling amazing!
Finally the belt slapper section of the punishment is over and I stand up and retrieve the slapper from the machine and replace it with the dreadful hairbrush. I am almost like an automaton at this point. I’m going through the motions without a real thought in my head for what I am doing or what is to come. What is to come is 45 minutes of a hairbrush spanking on maximum power with only a 5 minute corner time break in the middle.
I take my earlier position and spray mineral oil over my cheeks and thighs and they immediately begin to sting and burn like crazy. I am howling before I have even had the first of the hairbrush strokes!
What the hell did I do that for? The hairbrush lands as I wonder about my lack of sanity. I squeal as the wood connects with my cheek and sticks to the oil biting deeply before lifting off and coming back for another go. I set up my swaying motion so that both cheeks receive equal spanks and my thighs too. In honesty, the belt slapper had done its work and although my bottom was very, very sore and hot and throbbing the spanks from the hairbrush were not as severe as the first one that landed. I didn’t take the break in the middle, I continued with the whole 45 minutes and called myself every stupid name under the sun for putting in too high a multiplier for the hairbrush spanking on the Anime punishment selector.
I had learned a very severe lesson, or rather my bottom and thighs had.
I was happy though. The last time I had a spanking like this, Graham had been delivering it! The only thing missing was the tears. It didn’t make me cry. I did manage to make myself very happy immediately afterwards though and not just once. I lay prone on my bed waiting to come down from the last amazing orgasm. I had 20 minutes to pull myself together before my normal life took over again.
Finally I sat up and climbed off the bed and stood in front of the full length mirror. I lifted my skirt and looked at my glistening pussy in the mirror, I ran my fingers through the slick wet folds and soothed my very sensitive clit for a moment and savoured the deep throb that was still present, then I turned and looked over my shoulder at my throbbing deep red bottom and thighs and I smiled.
All images courtesy of the Internet except the butter paddle and the jokari paddles. They belong to me.
I have been tripping around on the internet again and I found a lovely spanking website. https://billenkoek.info/ Spanking! Joost the owner of said website is a lovely man who has decided spanking should not be vilified and he is educating people one visitor at a time about the pleasures of a painful spanking. I found his website thoroughly entertaining and I think I turned into a bit of a stalker for a little while. I was on there constantly, he has this https://billenkoek.info/fun/wheel-of-punishment/ wheel of punishment that when spun is the most fun I’ve had with spanking in a long time! Go on, click on the link and give it a try! You have to do what the wheel tells you though!
On the first spin of this lovely colourful little wheel, I got 100 spanks of the hairbrush on my bare bottom! Well, who am I to argue? (I know, I know, I do and frequently but not this time!) So over the end of my bed I went, skirt hiked up around my waist, stockings and suspenders perfectly framing my already bare bottom, (yes folks, I’ve gone back to being bare assed again, it is a much preferable state to be in) and I sprayed a little water over my cheeks to assist the brush to really grip. Damn did that brush really grip!
The first swat of the brush landed and I could feel it grip the moist surface of my bottom like it was covered in glue! The sting was sharp and the bloom that followed was delightfully fast especially as swat number two on the opposite cheek was now swiftly catching up in the blooming stakes. I spanked my cheeks alternating from one to the other, yelping with each swat now as they came hard and fast as I gave myself no time to adjust to the sting and just kept on spanking. It wasn’t long before both cheeks and my pussy were throbbing happily and all too soon I had reached the end of the 100 swats. I was actually disappointed that the spanking was over but I stood and walked over to the mirror to inspect my bottom. It was glowing really nicely but I wasn’t in that much pain. I suppose after being spanked by Stuart and co I had become accustomed to a much stronger harder spanking than I could deliver for myself. Oh well, I could always double up? Back to the wheel for a second punishment! 6 of the best with the cane on a bare bottom!
Oh. Okay. I was less than enthusiastic about this but up to the bedroom I went, skirt hiked over my hips and I bent over the end of the bed once again. I needed the machine for this, it delivers the cane much better than I could and so I set up the machine for 1 minute which is roughly 34 strokes. Now you see why I was less than enthusiastic? I can’t set it for anything less than 1 minute so I was already going to get much more than I had bargained for!
I switched the machine on and assumed the position. Whoosh! OW! OW! OW! What the hell happened there? Jeez! I had forgotten to turn down the power! It was on max and I couldn’t change it once the machine was operating, so I gritted my teeth and got on with it. Serves me right really, I should pay more attention to what I’m doing! By the time 10 strokes had been delivered straight across both cheeks I was howling and jumping about which of course brought the cane swiftly across the back of my thighs branding their creamy colour with a vivid red line. Before I could move the second stroke had landed just above the first, right across the sit spot and I confess I squealed loudly. Obviously to no avail as there was no one there to take pity on me and stop for a moment. The strokes just kept on coming and honestly, that was the longest minute in the history of minutes! Finally the machine stopped and I rubbed my poor bottom and thighs furiously. I went over and inspected the damage in the mirror and was surprised at the lack of markings there. There were plenty of red, angry welts but no clean, sharp red pinstripes I was used to having when being caned by Graham. No matter, my pussy was now very moist and heated and the throbbing in my cheeks and thighs was building nicely. I decided I had had sufficient spanking to keep me going for a day or two at least and I returned to my work space in the kitchen.
I sat down on the hard chair and my bottom complained a little but once again I was reminded that I had felt much worse after a spanking from either of the men. Also, the happy throb that had been singing just a few minutes before had subsided and miss pussy had gone to bloody sleep! This just wouldn’t do. I went back to Joost’s site and I spun that wheel once more. 50 spanks with a wooden spoon, bare bottom. Okay, this was more likely to hurt on top of what I had already done, but just for good measure I spun the wheel once again. 100 strokes with the paddle, bare bottom.
So 50 with a wooden spoon, 100 with a jokari paddle and I was now sure my bottom would be closer to feeling how it should after a spanking.
By the time I had finished these two sets of spankings my bottom was singing a different tune completely! It throbbed painfully, my pussy was very quiet which was quite normal at this stage because I recognised my brain telling me it could have done with the pleasurable distraction right now. Finally I had achieved a spanking I could feel for a few hours at least!
The pent up frustration had finally dissipated somewhat and I was once again in my happy playtime place feeling completely content and so of course I went back to visit Joost’s website while I was feeling all warm and fuzzy. During that visit I found a link on his page to the https://animeotk.com/punishment.php Anime Random Punishment Selector!
Now this little piece of magic was a game changer for me. Who needs a man or a woman for that matter, (I’ve said it before, I’m not fussy,) to spank you when you have this little program at your fingertips? Check it out people, spanking just took a whole new turn into a trip down the rabbit hole again, but this time it was full of wonderful ways to spank yourself and also a multiplier so I didn’t have to set my own counts just get the program to do it for me. Oh yes, I would live to regret that happy decision, I can tell you, or closer to the point, my bottom would, but that’s another story!
~Random Punishment Selector~
Punishment CertificateThis certificate dictates that Gemma, for the reason of very bad girl will receive the folllowing punishment
Four sets of spankings. Set One: 320 swats with a butter paddle and Gemma bent over Set Two: 390 swats with a Jokari paddle and Gemma laying on the bed Set Three: 430 swats with a belt slapper and Gemma laying on the bed Set Four: 1500 swats with a wooden hairbrush and Gemma bent over. These spankings will be carried out with Gemma’s bottom bare..
Brilliant program, I need to calm it down some though FFS! My bottom will have no skin left!
I have not seen or heard from Stuart in 3 months, Not since thatnight. I confess, I miss him, a lot. Just not enough to give in to his demands. I’m stubborn as all get out, and so in spite of myself I refuse to give in. It might make for a barren spanking life, but it sure as hell keeps everything else under my control this way. If he offered to spank me again though, I would be there like a shot, just sayin…
So imagine my surprise when I received a text from him this morning! He is working locally to me and wants to know if he can call in and collect his paddle and anything else he may have left behind?
Cold little text, no emojis, no kisses, just a few words asking for his stuff back, fuck him, he could wait. I grabbed my car keys and my purse and I opened the front door. Yeah, he was at the door, waiting. I guess he knows me quite well now?
I sighed and stood back to let him in.
‘Your paddle is in the kitchen, and your other stuff is spread all over the house so you will have to go find it yourself, I’m going out, so lock up when you’re done please.’
I didn’t even look at him, I just wanted to get out of there while I still could.
Stuart put his hand on my arm and slowed my exit. ‘Gem, wait. Can we talk please? I really miss you, I even miss your bad behaviour and smart mouth!’ A flicker of a smile curved his lips as he spoke. He stood closer to me, my pulse kicked up 10 notches, I inhaled his scent and went dizzy, (no romantic wordy stuff from me peeps, sorry) and I put my hands on his chest and pushed him away slightly. Only slightly! Jeez if you could just see this man! All toned muscles, tall and lean, and those eyes! Damn, I could feel myself leaning in and getting lost. Slightly was all I had in me! I was hard put not to pull instead of push! Then my mouth saved me and had a party all of its own.
‘Is that all you miss Stuart? Don’t you miss the spanking too? Isn’t that why you’re here? For your paddle? Obviously you’ve found another bottom to spank, which is why you need the paddle back. So, I’ve told you where it is, help yourself, I shall leave you to it.’ Ha! Way to Go Mouth! Jump right in there and cause your Mama a whole heap of trouble why don’t you?!
He blew out an exasperated sigh, ‘No, I haven’t found someone else, I used the paddle as an excuse to call and see you! Why are we fighting Gem?’
I stared at him coldly, ‘Because you didn’t care enough about me to keep your anger to yourself Stuart, that’s why we’re fighting. Because you couldn’t get your own way and you ranted in my face. In short, you scared the crap out of me and I’m not coming back into the ring for round two.’ I was amazed at how unemotionally I delivered that, I didn’t even know that was the reason I was so torn up about it all.
I might as well have punched him in the stomach, he literally deflated before my eyes, his face was ashen and he looked devastated, Good! Now he knew what it felt like!
Spiteful bitch I am. I couldn’t keep it up though, he truly was devastated and I couldn’t stand to see him like that. ( Yeah, I know, who the hell do I turn in to with this man? Meh!) I gave up trying to leave and closed the front door. I turned away from him and headed for the kitchen. I took two cups down and made us both coffee. Don’t be getting all excited peeps, I’m not changing my mind, he’s been a friend a lot longer than he was a lover, and I keep telling you all I miss him! I want my friend back. I’m prepared to back down that far, and like I said earlier, maybe if he suggested a spanking I might take him up on it…
He sat in his usual seat at the table and I put his coffee in front of him and sat down at the side of him. He reached over and held my hand, stroking it with his thumb, backwards and forwards… I was mesmerized by the feelings that stupid little bit of contact was creating in the pit of my stomach!
‘I’m really sorry Gem, I’ve never been like that with anyone ever, and to do that to you of all people… I know what you’ve lived through, I should have known better. I’m very sorry.’ Aw shit, I hate it when people do that! Genuinely apologise and you know they mean every bloody word! I wanted to shout at him, I wanted to say my piece, I wanted to make him feel terrible for the way he had made me feel. He robbed me by being genuinely remorseful, worse than that he was really upset by how deeply his actions that day had affected me. How do I fight against that? I couldn’t even ram the point home because he got it. He already understood what he had done.
See, the thing is, even though Stuart managed to scare the crap out of me during the big argument, I still trusted him not to hurt me. I knew deep down, he would walk away rather than physically hurt me. Despite all the harsh words, and I am as guilty of throwing some nasty words around too, I knew I was safe. I just didn’t like that he had resorted to the ‘I can shout louder than you, and look angrier and scarier than you’ tactics my checkered past was full of.
Anyway, I sighed deeply, shook my head, withdrew my treacherous hand, and drank my coffee. Then I smiled at him. ‘How have you been Stu? I missed you too, by the way.’
He threw his head back and laughed, it was a beautiful sound and I relaxed and began to enjoy his impromptu visit immensely. It wasn’t long before the conversation took it’s usual turn towards all things spanking. I suppose Stu knows me well enough to know, he may have stopped spanking me, but I was always going to carry on. He just assumed I would go back to self spanking with the machine.
I told him about my short foray into the world of internet spanking and how I had ended up being the conductor of a hard spanking for Aaron’s bottom. I was laughing as I relayed the details of the conman’s fall from grace in my world.
ANDDDDDD that got me into trouble…
Stuart shook his head in dismay and then levelled that stern look at me that makes my legs turn to jelly and other parts of me to liquid heat! ‘Gem! You are utterly incorrigible! You deserve a spanking more than this Aaron bloke did! Your behaviour… honestly woman!’
I sat back and crossed my arms over my chest and stretched my short legs out in front of me and I glared right back at him. ‘Anyone would think you had some say in the matter of my behaviour Stuart. But we both know you don’t so hey ho, I guess I’m getting away with anything and everything these days.’
Stuart did his single raised eyebrow thing, there was a small smile playing around the corner of his mouth but he continued to view me sternly. In a low voice that made my kneecaps wobble, he said, ‘Are you telling me I can’t spank you Gem?’
I shook my head and kept silent. I wanted to see where he was going with this.
He grinned at me, ‘You aren’t telling me I can’t spank you, yet you’ve just told me I don’t have a say in your behaviour any longer. You’re arguing against yourself.’ He raised a questioning eyebrow again. ‘No I’m not,’ I said, ‘You’re the one doing all the talking, I’m just listening. But, I can clarify if it would help you. Of course you can spank me, but you don’t have any say over my behaviour. I’m not answering to you Stuart. I’m not curbing my excesses for you either. They are mine and I’m owning that shit these days.’ I waited. It didn’t take long at all.
He winced at my bad language, jeez anyone would think I had F bombed all over the place. He leaned forward and tugged my arm free and I let him. My pulse was doing a tap dance to rival the River Dance tempo and my tummy filled up with butterflies. He pulled me to my feet and I went with it. He pushed his chair out wide from the table and looked at my skirt pointedly and then my face. ‘Hand me the paddle Gem and then dispose of the skirt, it’s way past time baby.’
Damn it! 5 Minutes! That’s all it took! five whole minutes from me being fuming with him to being bare-assed across his knee taking a good solid warm up hand spanking! Oh god I had missed this. It hurt like hell because I hadn’t been spanked in over a week so it didn’t take long before I was making little mewling sounds and wriggling about to try to distribute the heat more evenly. Stuart always went for the tender spots first, top of the thighs and the centre of my twin globes! I wriggled some more and yelped as he caught my thighs full on with a flurry of sharp spanks to each one. He anchored me around the waist more firmly and pulled me up his thighs higher so that my bottom was now raised up in the centre of his lap.
He stopped the hand spanking and stroked my heated cheeks, letting his fingernails gently score the sensitive skin until I thought I was going to scream with frustration. He squeezed my thighs gently, stroked between my legs, lingered over my pussy lips and slid his fingers through the juices that were always present whenever he was in control of me.
‘You are a bad girl Gem, so turned on when you should be begging for forgiveness. I really have got my work cut out for me today.’ His fingers continued their gentle probing assault on my pussy and I groaned and moaned and wiggled and pushed back against his hand but he laughed and slapped my bottom hard on both cheeks.
‘Oh no, Lady! This is punishment and you are going to be so red and sore you won’t sit down for a week after this spanking. I promise you.’
I felt him reach down and retrieve the paddle from the floor at the side of the chair and then that first spank landed so hard and fast I had no time to prepare for the sting that exploded across both my cheeks. I yowled and put my hand behind me to try to cover my bottom, bloody hell that hurt like blazes!! I kicked my legs out at the same time and wriggled as the paddle connected again and again in a fast heavy stream of spanks all over my thighs then my cheeks, my hand caught one and I swiftly cursed and removed it from the spanking area, I heard him chuckle as he made full use of the area my hand had vacated and I squealed and kicked out. He trapped my legs between his own and I was upended even further so I had to place my hands on the floor to maintain my balance.
Oh god my bottom was on fire! The heat was erupting everywhere, the throbbing had set in now and my pussy was dripping and I was sobbing and yelping and he just carried on, bringing that paddle down everywhere, Crack! It landed on my left cheek and the sting went so deep it felt like I had been bitten! Crack! The paddle came down on my right cheek and I squealed at the impact, smack, smack on my thighs, Ow, Ow, Ow, Ow, OW! That hurt so much I could feel the tears pricking the back of my eyes.
Then he paused, pushed open my legs and his fingers stroked my pussy, pushing past my lips to find my throbbing clit and he flicked and rubbed and sank his fingers where ever he wanted, soaking them then wiping them on my overheated bottom then back to my clit and oh my GOD!! I came so hard I saw stars, I moaned deeply and he laughed and resumed his spanking with the paddle. I screamed and raised up howling and begging and pleading for it to stop now. ‘Please stop now, I promise I won’t go hunting on the internet, I promise not to take my frustrations out on someone else’s bottom I promise I promise I promise!’ The tears were flowing freely and I was sobbing hard. He ignored all my pleas and continued with the spanking for another excruciatingly long 10 minutes until my bottom was a deep, deep purple and my thighs were a solid block of heat and pain and throbbing sensation. He held the paddle in front of my face and spoke very quietly, ‘Open up Gem, paddle between the teeth baby, and don’t you dare drop it or you will get another 10 minutes of the same.’
I gripped that paddle between my teeth and bit down, hard. I would bite a blasted chunk out of that damned thing before the day was out, so help me.
I tried to stand and his hand pushed me back into position. ‘Oh no, we aren’t done yet baby, stay where you are until I tell you you can move.’ I resumed the position and waited. I felt his hand smoothing over the hot, hot skin of my bottom now, smoothing, squeezing, fingernails dragging, then a flurry of sharp slaps all over and I bit down and yelped all at the same time. He repeated the actions a few times, spanking then stroking then spanking then stroking, until I didn’t think it was ever going to end.
He was slowing down now, the spanks were becoming lighter, his fingers were between my thighs again, he squeezed my inner thighs and it made me groan deeply, bloody hell this was slow torture, then his fingers found my pussy and he stroked and slid and stroked and slid those fingers until I was trembling all over and desperate to cum. He knew exactly what he was doing too, because he leaned down and whispered, ‘You can cum when I tell you baby, not before. You cum before, you are going to be spanked for another ten minutes with the paddle. Be a good girl and be patient while I play….’
An hour later and I was sat fully dressed and alone in my kitchen wondering just where I had lost the high ground and the control. I was feeling utterly, but delightfully exhausted, my bottom and thighs were on fire and throbbing away happily, my pussy? Well, she was sleeping now, but damn she had had herself a good time today!
I looked at the paddle Stuart had left on the table and I smiled a very satisfied smile.
All images are courtesy of the internet, except the paddles, they are mine. (Both of them now 😂)
So after that first internet spanking with Aaron there were 3 more sessions or appointments as he liked to call them. He usually came online once a week and the discipline session would begin with him instructing me to tell him what I had been up to. Then he would follow the same pattern of discipline he had that first time. The spankings were marginally longer now but not by much. I confess I was getting bored with it. The other thing about Aaron was he is big into extra-punishments, so I found myself having to write lines a lot! 500 at a bloody time! Seriously, it takes forever to do that shit! It’s why computers were invented! Copy and paste for goodness sake! The repetitiveness is a bore and I kept getting distracted from the task so it took longer! Another of Aaron’s favourite extra-punishments was orgasm bans. Now, call me over sexed if you want but I do not like being told I can’t have a play after a hard spanking and no play for a WEEK? Really?
Over the course of the past month we have gotten to chatting quite frequently in between spanking appointments. He had begun to open up to me, I’m not too comfortable with that to be honest, I would rather he just kept things surface, spanking, kink chat that kind of thing. I don’t want someone confessing all their sins to me. Do I sound like a vicar to anyone? At all? Ever? Nope I spank Vicars. (Well, one to date, but I would be happy to spank another, I did enjoy hearing him squeal!)
Anyway the upshot is, he wants to branch out. He wants to be the spankee he doesn’t want to keep spanking me, he wants to be spanked by me because he trusts me. That’s what he has always wanted.
Erm… Not part of the agreement? I can’t honestly say I have ever really had an urge to spank anyone, although now that I think about it, his voice is annoying as all get out, and he has banned me twice from orgasm playtime, so that’s two weeks worth of frustration right there. He’s also big on this chilli rub application and he has lied to me big time, I can feel a payback spanking coming on…
I thought about it for a good while before I agreed to spank him (virtually of course) but I figured he could spank himself harder than I could have ever spanked him anyway. For me it was a bit like when the Vicar got his spanking from the machine. I was in control but I wasn’t physically spanking him. I’ve got to stop talking about the Vicar, I keep getting flashbacks to his hairy bottom. Not good, not good at all.
I was sneeped with him, (pissed off for those who don’t understand Mancunian) because he was supposed to be my disciplinarian, he was supposed to be the person who could bring me into line when no one else could. I was supposed to be able to respect him. I could no more see Graham or Stuart acting the way Aaron was doing than I could see pigs fly. I felt duped. Bad move for Aaron, that really made me take my opportunity for a payback spanking a lot more seriously. I don’t like being conned by anyone. Aaron, in my opinion had conned me. He had come at it via he would provide me with what I was looking for and then later on turn the tables to get what he wanted. Had he said all this in the beginning I might have explored the possibilities with him, but as it was I was sneeped. That is a bad place to find yourself.
So the first thing I asked Aaron was, ‘Do you have a hairy bottom?’
I laughed my head off at his expression! He was shocked by the question. I thought it was a reasonable question under the circumstances. The Vicar conversation had come up a number of times during our chats. I was beginning to see why now.
When he realised I was serious, he blushed furiously and admitted that his bottom was indeed hairy, then he went all submissive on me and pleaded with me not to make him shave it. Of course I made him shave it. All that hair was a layer of protection as far as I was concerned and it had to go, he wanted a spanking? He was going to get one he would feel for a month! Besides, I could not look at another hairy bottom.
He pleaded and whined and in the end I got so cross with him I told him to drop his trousers and underpants and spank himself hard with his wooden hairbrush. No warm up, no breaks. Just keep spanking until I said he could stop.
He stood up, dropped his pants and underwear and bent over right in front of the screen. His bottom wasn’t that hairy I thought, but hey, I have been exposed to a severely hairy one so who am I to say?
He peered over his shoulder at the screen and I told him to get on with it. I don’t have all the stern chatter most spankers come at me with, I’m more in tune with the yelping, howling, squealing and sobbing side of things to be fair. So, perhaps I came across as a lot more strict than I had intended when I told him I wanted his backside purple and then he could damn well shave that hairy arse and cover it in a liberal coating of chilli rub or he would receive 24 strokes of the cane!
He took me at my word and he spanked his bottom as hard as he could with a very wide flat wooden hairbrush. It was a beautiful implement and I imagined Stuart delivering it across my bottom a few times as I watched Aaron jump about and squeal like a little stuck pig each time it connected with his cheeks. I instructed him to spank his thighs hard, I made him bend over the chair so he caught the sit spots flush with that wood. I wanted his backside and thighs as hot as he could get them. Oh dear, I was actually quite furious with him. He had played me.
The bad part about internet spanking is this, it feels like you are watching a really slow video and you want to fast forward to see the end results. This wasn’t going fast enough for me, short attention span and all that, so as soon as he had been spanking himself for 20 minutes, I gave him 15 minutes to shave his bottom and told him to come back online with his pants around his ankles and his bare bottom close to the screen for an inspection. I also said if he was late appearing or he hadn’t done the shave properly, he would receive those cane strokes plus 6 extra for wasting my time.
15 minutes later I was sat by my laptop waiting when a very bright red bottom appeared front and centre of my screen! I nearly choked on my coffee. Sheesh, I thought he might warn me first that he was there!
I saw shaving cuts covered in bits of toilet paper, I saw very mottled red bruising all over his bottom and thighs and if I wasn’t mistaken, there were one or two small blisters appearing too. Good. He deserved it.
I spent the next 30 minutes haranguing him for his deception while he spanked himself with a large slipper and apologised to me constantly. I told him his apology was pathetic, he was pathetic and he should be ashamed of himself. He was no better than the Vicar.
I made him stand in the corner of his room for 10 minutes reciting the last lot of 500 lines he had given me, ‘I am very naughty and I need a good hard spanking.’
Finally I told him to come and stand before me with his pants around his ankles. He was crying. I asked him what he was crying for and he said he was very naughty and he felt he still needed a good hard spanking for deceiving me. I told him to get his cane and bring it over to the laptop.
He brought it and placed it in front of the screen so I could see it. It wasn’t a big cane, but it was thin and whippy and would do the job.
‘Look at me and stop snivelling.’ I demanded.
‘Yes Miss, sorry Miss.’ He stammered and did that suck it up thing a child does when they are catching their first breath after crying. Damn he made me so bloody cross! I went to town on his arse.
‘Bend over the arm of the chair Aaron and deliver 30 strokes with the cane. 15 with each hand. Do not stop until they are all delivered and I want to hear that cane cut through the air with a whistle and I want to hear it crack on your ass. You will count each stroke out loud and you will thank me and then demand another stroke. Start now.’
I don’t know if I went overboard on him that day, he was crying like a baby his backside was striped, red and very sore, oh and hot, I can attest to hot. That chilli rub is evil and it burns like hell and that’s just a thin smear. He had a good amount covering every part of his bottom and thighs. He must have felt like he was sat in a fire! Serves him right.
After the caning was over, I told him I didn’t want to hear from him again as I refuse to deal with liars and con men. I left him looking very shamefaced and still apologising to an empty screen. I had logged off. I went online and deleted all of the websites I had joined and decided if I wasn’t getting anything from spanking myself, I might as well just leave it for a while until the urge came back again.
So, after the Boy’s first grand mal seizure on the basketball court, and the doctor on calls subsequent none diagnosis of cause, we spent the next 6 weeks backwards and forwards to the GP clinic to see what had happened. The GP was less than helpful, (there’s a shocker for you!) mainly because diagnosis of epilepsy appears to be above his pay grade. that shouldn’t have stopped him from referring the Boy to a specialist though! That event only took place after I went postal on the GP’s head after the Boy suffered another seizure.
This one was at college. He had just come out of his lecture, and as he pushed out into the hallway he collapsed and fell from his chair, his head hit the floor this time and he cut his forehead open. He was in seizure for 15 minutes and the lecturer called the paramedics and myself.
I arrived at the same time as the paramedics and between us we agreed that the boy had to go to hospital because of the bang to his head. They put him in the back of the ambulance and took him to our local hospital for assessment. I followed in the car. Desperate, panicking, worried to death he would come round to a sea of nameless faces and he would panic.
In the event, he came round as the ambulance arrived at the hospital, the paras were brilliant as usual and kept him calm and comfortable until I got there. They hadn’t tried to over explain anything, they just kept saying, ‘It’s alright son, your mum is right behind us and she will be there as soon as we open the doors.’ It was enough to keep him calm.
He was kept in hospital for 3 days to do X-rays on his head where he had banged it, and also to run tests to find out what the cause of the collapse was. Nobody was talking about Epilepsy. It never got mentioned.
This situation continued unabated, unmedicated and undiagnosed for three years. The boy finally received an appointment with the epilepsy consultant almost 3 years after his first grand mal seizure.
On the day of the appointment the boy requested that I come in with him because he would struggle to explain what happens because he is ‘out of it’ as he puts it. I agreed and we explained to the consultant that this was the reason I was in attendance. I could provide a clearer picture of what had been happening for the past two and a half years. There were two trainee doctors sat at the back of the room and we were asked if we minded them being present. We didn’t. In fact, I actively encourage more people to allow them to be present. It is how they learn best. First hand.
Throughout the whole explanation of 6 seizures over 2 years 7 fits a year, and 20 plus absences a month (very, very high number) that the boy had experienced, the consultant sat with his legs spread wide, his elbows resting on the arm of his chair, his finger steepled under his chin and his eyes closed. I actually thought he may have gone to sleep on us at one point. We persevered and catalogued each and every episode with as much detail as was humanly possible to give. we also gave back information on his hydrocephalus/shunt condition. At the end of it all we sat and waited for him to say something.
What he said made my head pop.
‘Well Sir, I confess, you are a bit of a mystery.’ He finally opened his eyes and looked at the boy. ‘None of what you describe can be attributed to epilepsy I’m afraid. This may pass in time, but I would be remiss in rushing towards a diagnosis that will hinder and therefore change your life forever.’ He was spinning his chair from side to side as he spoke.
I was shocked. I was dumbfounded. I wasn’t the only one. The two trainees sat behind me looked exceptionally confused at his declaration and one of them shook his head at me as if to disagree. I spoke quietly and clearly so as not to be misunderstood by the sleepy consultant.
‘So, what you are saying is, the boy categorically is not presenting with symptoms that are epileptic in nature or appearance? You are saying that presently, regardless of the health issues he is having, he can drive a vehicle? Is that right?’ I waited.
He glanced down his nose at me before he spoke. ‘Yes, I see no reason for the Boy not to continue with driving lessons! You should not be rushing towards a diagnosis of epilepsy for the young man Mrs Strong. It will dog him for the rest of his life and prevent him from doing such things as driving a vehicle, certain types of employment will be closed off to him, there is a great stigma attached to the condition because it is widely misunderstood and it must be declared on any kind of formal declaration. Do you really want that for your son?’ He looked smug. Obviously, this was his preferred choice of put down. Berate the mother for being too pushy, for wanting to diagnose her son with epilepsy just because she wanted it to be that condition. Oh! Silly me, of course that’s what I wanted for the boy! Of course I wanted the seizures and the fits and the absences to be epilepsy. Why the fuck wouldn’t I want that diagnosis? Even the trainee doctors thought the consultant was wrong.
Instead of going very large and postal on the consultant’s head I merely said, ‘Well, to coin your own phrase, You Sir are not a mystery at all, you are a pompous Ass of the first order and I am calling for a second opinion from a consultant who can stay awake and focused during a consultation. I also want a consultant who can dress himself properly in the mornings, you have a large rip in your pants crotch Sir and it is embarrassing to see you in such disarray. We shall take our leave now, but you can be sure, you will be hearing more from me if that second opinion is not forthcoming.’
I stood up turned to the trainee doctors and said, ‘I do hope you get to spend time with a real consultant at some point.’ With that I walked out and the Boy followed swiftly behind me.
Three months later we received an appointment to travel to Liverpool, Walton Hospital to see the second Epilepsy Consultant. We were all geared up for disappointment number 2. We went into the consultation with absolutely no expectations of a diagnosis, what we got was the biggest shock we had received to date.
The Consultant sat and heard us both out, we told him everything from start to finish about what had been happening with the Boy. The consultant nodded and asked questions occasionally, but generally he was alert and listened closely. At the end of it he asked us to come around to his side of the desk because he wanted to show us a scan of the Boy’s head when he was five years old against one taken a few months ago.
We did as he asked and he explained what we were seeing.
‘I see you have a Chiari Malformation at the base of your skull, and looking at these scans I can tell you it’s dormant and has been for a number of years. However, that coupled with the Hydrocephalus and the insertion of the Shunt meant that you were more likely than not to develop Epilepsy. Any kind of pressure on the brain can be a trigger. Your brain has been under constant assault because of your pre-existing conditions. I am sorry to tell you that you do indeed have Epilepsy. I want to start you on a course of medication that will control the fits and the seizures, it may not control the absences we shall have to wait and see.’
I was once again dumbfounded, so I asked. ‘I’m sorry, you were talking about the chiari malformation like we knew the Boy had one, how long has he had that for?’
The Consultant looked at me strangely and then shook his head, almost in despair. ‘You didn’t know about it?’ He asked quietly.
‘It’s the first time I have ever even heard of it.’ I said.
‘I have no idea why you both have not been told about this condition, it can be quite serious if not monitored regularly.’ He then addressed the Boy directly. ‘Fortunately it became dormant around about the time you reached 5 years of age from the appearance of the scans and the information I have on file, you should have been told about it, I can only apologise for the lack of forthcoming information. But to answer your question Mum, he has had a chiari malformation since birth.’ He was genuinely disgusted that we had not been told.
So, The boy had his diagnosis and also a pre-existing condition that we never knew about, he had his medication that would stop the fits and seizures, he had stopped his driving lessons immediately, for which he was most grateful. He hated driving, he said he never felt safe behind the wheel of a car. It was a relief to stop having to do it.
He has never, ever since then to present date, discussed the Chiari malformation with me, I think he has a mental block regarding that information. He doesn’t want another condition to add to the growing list of conditions he already has. I can’t say that I blame him. I can live without another one for the list too. The Chiari is dormant, I know what signs to look out for that would indicate it may be active again, but from what I understand the likelihood of that happening is very slim. It’s filed under, ‘nothing has changed, we just know more,’ and been put away.
Three years of hell stopped abruptly with the introduction of a tablet taken 4 times a day. The fits and seizures are largely stopped now although the boy suffers with a number of breakthrough absences every week. Usually brought on by stress.
So, I’m back to D I Y and quite frankly, I’m just not feeling it. Any of it. I can spank away to my hearts content but it doesn’t mean I feel it. It isn’t reaching the part of my brain that craves this, and I’m not getting any kind of feeling of discipline or even sexual satisfaction from it. I just feel empty. But worse than that, I feel somewhat out of control again. Losing focus, leaving things that need doing, all the stuff that got me started on this journey in the first place. It’s all crowding back in around me again. I have a very bruised bottom and thighs courtesy of my ability to swing Stuart’s paddle, which he still hasn’t requested back, but those bruises are just colours. No mental imagery goes with them, no flashbacks from how they came to be, no feelings of being disciplined, chastised, humiliated or being made to feel submissive. I miss Stuart and Graham a lot.
So, back to empty. What do I do now? I suppose the reality of it is I need a Spanker/Disciplinarian to take me in hand again. To date, all of my external spankings have come from accidental exposure of my kink to some hitherto unsuspecting human going about their daily business. They have all kind of fallen into my world of spanking and been drawn in for a short while. They all leave though. I’m not a keeper, I know this about myself. People can’t keep me, I won’t let them.
I joined a spanking website or two to see if I could talk to others about spanking. Well, that opened up one or two interesting possibilities, some downright scary ones and a few that were so far of the scale of normal I almost ran screaming from the PC. My philosophy in life is ‘each to their own’. I truly believe we are all unique and special in our own way and I try not to judge people for what they want for themselves, but when that thing they want requires something nasty for me, I then have an opinion. Not for me! I need pain yes, but I am not that masochistically gone that I could want the kind of stuff they want to do to me. Each to their own is fine but they need to keep it to themselves and not give it me, is all I’m sayin’. I just need taking in hand, I need to feel accountable and I need a proper spanking!
During the course of my wanderings around the strange and fascinating world of the internet, I hooked up with Aaron who wanted to discipline me from afar. He had taken the time to read my profile bio and he tailored his response to suit my needs. I chatted with him for a good while before I agreed to taking any discipline from him. I outright refused to meet up with him, I have one thing in my head, I have to protect the boy no matter what. No meeting up with strangers from the internet. (Apparently this caution does not cover strangers and neighbours in my immediate vicinity!)
But an online disciplinarian could work. Couldn’t it?
Just so you all know, I am not big on being photographed, or on letting people see the real me. So this was a huge leap for me. One I was quite uncomfortable with to start off with. I had the laptop set up in the bedroom facing the bed and I was sat on the edge of the bed waiting for Aaron to appear. I was so damn nervous I had to run and do a quick bathroom visit before he came online. (Very aware of my naughty bladder peeps, it can be a thing when I don’t pay attention… TMI? Ask any woman over 40 and then come back to me if they don’t all agree!) I’m telling you… it’s a thing!
Anyway, Aaron appeared on the screen and looked very sternly at me, he sat on a hard backed chair, with his leg crossed over his knee, and he was wearing a white shirt with a tie, and black slacks. He looked like a headmaster I suppose, or maybe a boss? I don’t know what look he was going for but it came over as strict enough, so job done.
‘Hello Gemma, do you have anything to report to me about your behaviour?’ Aaron got straight down to business which I appreciated, but he had a very high pitched, Joe Pesci, type voice which was completely at odds with his appearance, and if I’m being totally honest, it threw me. I couldn’t help it, I started giggling.
‘Yes Sir,’ I was giggling and couldn’t hide it.
‘Why are you laughing Gemma?’ Aaron barked the question at me.
I straightened my face and controlled my giggling, and managed to shrug my shoulders. I didn’t respond to his question so he asked me again.
‘Why are you laughing Gemma, answer me please!’ He was obviously not letting this go so I told him.
‘I was just laughing at how high your voice sounds Sir,’ I said very quietly.
He didn’t look pleased at all. Well, he wouldn’t would he? I had just insulted him! I instantly felt remorseful.
‘I’m sorry Sir, that was rude of me, I think the sound on the laptop isn’t very good and it’s just making you sound… nevermind, I’m very sorry.’
I lowered my eyes and looked down at my feet and waited.
‘I see, so you think you can make fun of my voice, then give me a silly little apology and that will make everything okay again?’ He was furious. I could see the colour mottling his face now and I really did feel bad for what I had done.
‘I really am very sorry Sir, I will try to adjust the sound so your voice comes through properly next time.’ I grovelled.
‘Stand up Gemma.’ He ordered me.
I stood up and crossed my hands in front of me.
‘What punishment do you think you deserve for insulting me?’
‘I don’t know sir,’ I mumbled. Shit, don’t ask me to set the punishment! I would probably go in too heavy from the word go, I waited him out. It didn’t take long.
‘You don’t know. I will tell you then. You will take 2 minutes with the cane on your bare bottom immediately.’
My eyes flew to the screen in shock.
‘Right now? No warm up?’ I stammered
‘That is what immediately means is it not? No warm up, you don’t deserve the luxury of one. The spanking machine will deliver these so that we make sure you get the maximum strike available with the cane. Load it up please.’
I did as I was told and inserted the cane into the spanking machine.
‘Set the dial to maximum power and turn the timer to 2 minutes. That should be sufficient to cover what 12 strokes of the cane would really feel like if I was there delivering them.’ He was definitely getting into his stride!
2 minutes! That is the equivalent of 35 strokes!! Shit! I am in major trouble now! But I do as I’m told. I set everything up as Aaron has ordered.
‘Bend over the end of the bed Gemma, pull your dress up over your hips and pull your panties down.’ I did and then positioned myself over the end of the bed. It suddenly dawned on me in a complete rush of humiliation and embarrassment, that Aaron had an unrestricted view of my bottom and pussy on full display to him and quite suddenly, pussy came out to play with a song and dance! She was throbbing away happily at my humiliation.
I reached behind me and switched the machine on. The first stroke nearly lifted me off my feet! SHIT!!! I had forgotten how horrid the cane is on a fresh bottom. I jumped and howled as the cane flew backwards and forwards at a steady pace as it connected with my tender bottom and thighs. Yes I was doing my hula hoop thing with my hips and up on my toes to relieve my cheeks and let my thighs catch up. I yowled and squealed almost all the way through the two minutes! Aaron instructed me to be silent for the final 30 seconds and if he heard even so much as a sniffle he would make me take a minute extra.
I shoved a handful of duvet into my mouth and bit down as the cane whipped across my bottom and thighs, digging in deep and biting the soft, tender skin. I could feel the welts blooming across my cheeks and then the heat set in along with the heavy stinging throb. Oh god, I had forgotten how painful this can be!
Finally the machine came to a standstill. The 2 minutes were up. Aaron grunted something and then instructed me to change the cane over for the hairbrush. I did as I was told and inserted the hairbrush into the holder.
‘Do you have the mineral oil I instructed you to have ready?’ He asked.
‘Yes sir,’ I mumbled as I showed him the bottle.
‘Apply a liberal amount to your bottom and thighs, give them a good coating and apply some to the back of the hairbrush. When you’re done, we shall stay on maximum power and you can set the timer for 5 minutes to start with.’
Okay so 5 minutes in real spanks is 177 spanks. (I know because I counted them once) this was gonna hurt like crazy! Aaron interrupted me again.
‘Before you start Gemma, remove your dress please, it is getting in the way when you jump about. You will stand in front of the bed so I may inspect you.’
My humiliation was complete. I removed my dress and stood at the end of the bed facing the screen and I watched as he inspected me from head to foot. His eyes lingered on my breasts, barely held in place by my bra. My pussy set up an insistent throbbing and I wanted to groan.
‘Take that bra off. It’s pointless.’ He ordered dismissively.
I removed my bra and placed it with my dress on the stool beside me. I saw heat in his eyes when he caught sight of my very full breasts bouncing as I moved around. Oh yes, he was getting something out of this too. Regardless of his claims during our chats that it wasn’t sexual for him. Like fuck it wasn’t. Leg crossed, arms folded across his groin? I knew what he was hiding! Pussy kicked up a notch and was now singing!
‘Now Gemma, not only have you been exceptionally rude to me, you still have not reported your transgressions to me as I requested. So I am going to assume there are many and a hard and heavy spanking is in order. Position yourself over the end of the bed and begin the spanking please. You are allowed to sway from side to side and move up and down so that your thighs take a spanking. When the five minutes are done, reset the machine for a further five minutes and continue with the spanking.’ Aaron barked out his instructions rapid fire and I hurried to carry them out.
I nodded, eyes downcast, and I positioned myself, reached behind me, switched on the machine and oh my god! That hair brush! The wood connected with my sore bottom on the first spank and dug in gripping my skin, the mineral oil had created a thin slick cover that made the wood hold on contact, sting sharper and connecting harder. I howled and howled and yelped and squealed as it delivered blow after blow, all the time Aaron sat behind me instructing me to lift my bottom up higher, move to the right, move to the left, stand on tiptoe. My thighs had exploded in pain now, they were getting so much attention. I could feel the heat spreading like fire across my bottom and thighs. My poor pussy got caught in the cross fire once or twice because my swinging hips were too slow for the next stroke and thwack, straight across my pussy lips. She was swollen and hot and throbbing painfully but still singing! I could feel the tears prickling my eyes. My pussy was glistening with juices and I knew the screen was not set far enough away for him to not see that. During one of our conversations prior, he had intimated that should I get turned on by the spankings he gave, he would punish me for my naughty thoughts. But that wasn’t it! It wasn’t naughty thoughts at all, it was a wonderful reaction to counteract the delightfully painful spanking! That was what did it, oh and I think exposing myself might have been a huge factor too. I am an exhibitionist after all!
Finally the first 5 minutes came to an end and I stood up shakily, sniffling, panting, hurting, and I reset the timer. I repositioned myself over the bed and was about to reach back and start again when Aaron spoke.
‘Move the machine along the side of the bed Gemma and then I want you to kneel on hands and knees on the bed facing forward so you can see me. This five minutes will concentrate on your thighs and sit spot. You will look at me for the whole five minutes. I want to see the pain on your face as each stroke lands. ‘ He sounded positively fucking gleeful!
I moved the machine and got into position. I felt so very exposed with my breasts swinging in full view, and my tear stained face right in front of him, at this point I was crawling with humiliation.
I reached behind me and started the machine again. Every thought, every single thought disappeared in a rush as the spanking began again, the only thing I could hear was the arm of the machine as it pulled back and the SMACK as the brush landed on my sit spots and red hot thighs. I could only feel the pain. My humiliation was a very secondary thing now as that brush roamed around my bottom and thighs and turned my super soft bottom into hard leather as each spank landed over and over in the same place when I forgot to move! I was in a world of pain and everywhere was throbbing intensely. Stinging, biting, wet smacks sticking as they landed, my skin blooming underneath in all different directions. My pussy was on fire and I knew I was barely a nanosecond from cumming! I didn’t dare though, I checked that bad girl! I didn’t want him to see that look on my face! That could come later, when the screen was off and I was completely alone and safe from further chastisement!
I groaned, moaned, wailed, sobbed and cried all the way through the five minutes of pure agony that brush delivered on my ass. Aaron leaned forward so that he could see every single excruciating stroke of that brush etch itself onto my face as pain and he smiled. A big happy smile. Sadistic bastard!
The machine stopped. The room fell heavily silent for a moment, I almost forgot to breathe, so beautiful was the lack of sound from that damned machine. And then Aaron ruined it with his high pitched voice.
‘Get up Gemma, go and stand in the corner where I can see you, 10 minutes, hands on head, legs together, no touching, no soothing your bottom. Apply a liberal amount of the chilli rub you said you have.’
I stumbled from the bed and walked unsteadily to the corner of the room and assumed the position. I applied the chilli rub and Oh, oh, oh… the numbness was wearing off, prickly heat began spreading outwards from the centre of the twin hard spots, fire licked at my skin, dancing across it in finger light touches, here and there, then deepening, then turning to hot, hot, hot, throbbing everywhere. My sit spot was consumed with a dull heavy ache and my thighs were burning and stinging and throbbing. Everywhere hurt and burned fiercely!
After the ten minute corner time ended, Aaron called me back to stand with my back to the screen so that he could see his handy work. I heard him grunt his approval of the damage the machine had wrought on my bottom and then he instructed me to turn around. I turned and faced the screen and waited.
‘You have barely tasted a punishment today Gemma, we will build up slowly until we meet your maximum times from past endeavours with the spanking machine. Now, as you are obviously very turned on from this spanking experience, I am setting some extra non-spanking punishments that you will carry out for the remainder of the week until our next appointment.
You will not masturbate, touch yourself or gain any sexual relief until I give you permission, you will do corner time every night for 10 minutes until our next appointment and you will think about your wayward behaviour, you will also hand write 500 lines saying ‘I must not be lazy and I deserve a hard spanking’. Do you understand?’
I nodded and said in a very tiny voice, ‘Yes Sir.’
No sexual relief? FOR A WEEK?? NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!
All photos/images courtesy of the internet except the Jokari paddles. They are mine.
When you are out of the usual options, do it yourself.
Stuart has gone, and he said he isn’t coming back. Why?
Because I’m me, that’s why. Because, after our last spanking session turned into the hottest sex session I have ever experienced, I declared it could never happen again. I said he could spank me, I said he could cane me, I told him he could pet me, tease me, but he couldn’t take things to the end game again. I wasn’t up for it.
Why? Because he wants us to have a full on relationship, all bells and whistles, with a view to marriage at the end of it all. No chance. I won’t go there again ever. I don’t care if I love him, I don’t feel good about it. I feel hemmed in. I feel panic stricken, I feel afraid. Besides I can get over the love thing. I can’t be trapped again.
Hence the big argument. He thinks I’m punishing him for Don’s (ex) bad treatment of me. I pointed out it wasn’t just bad treatment, he systematically stripped my personality down to the bare minimum and discarded every single likeable, original, loveable part of me for 20 long years, until there was nothing left but a shell and all in the name of that widely abused word, love.
Would Stuart do the same? Probably not, but I am adamant, I am never betting on the relationship pony again. I never thought Don would do it, so why shouldn’t Stuart turn out to be a major arsehole too?
Yes I’m gutted that he has gone and in anger too, I’m not completely devoid of emotions, but I refuse to believe I should compromise just because the sex was mind blowing once. Okay, three times, but that is so not the point! I have the right to make my own choices and live by my own rules. He knew that going in. Nothing changed, he just thought he could change my mind because the sex was amazing. He can’t. I can live without the sex. I cannot live with compromise, space stealing, time hogging, whining, extra laundry, extra emotional needs, all in the name of so called love! It drains me. I have no wish to do it, so I’m not.
Damn he threw a temper tantrum like I’ve never seen before. That hardened me against his plight actually, because when the chips were down, he didn’t back off from his anger, he embraced it. Even knowing my very full and chequered history with angry, abusive men, he still embraced his anger rather than step back and say, I get it, I don’t like it, but I get it. You have the right to say no if you want to.
I like my life just the way it is. Answerable to me alone.
So, Stuart has gone but he left behind his new paddle. I guess he will want it back at some point but until then I shall be experimenting with the self spanking variety of discipline with this lovely, but very painful, paddle. Besides, I branded it with my bite mark. Therefore mine!
So, here I am again. I am happily embracing my D I Y philosophy once more and self spanking is going to resume sooner rather than later. I am no longer hankering for a long term spanker. They are too complicated. I’m going back to plan A. but maybe with the curtains closed, or not… Who knows?
I can’t use the paddle with the spanking machine, the handle of it is too big, so it’s going to be trial and error with this one. Over the past few months, I have found myself being spanked in pretty much every conceivable position that is humanly doable for my build and height. The one that interested me the most though was lying on the bed with my legs raised and held together while I was spanked very, very hard by Stuart and then again a little later by Graham. That was a hell of a spanking session and one I have not recounted here because, well, I just didn’t. I might in the future if I feel like reminiscing but for now it’s all about the position.
Without further ado, I turned the key in the front door, and me and the paddle made our way to my bedroom for a good hard spanking. My bottom had started tingling at the bottom of the stairs, by the time I reached the top, my pussy was singing a tune in perfect harmony with it.
I was wearing a wrap around style red dress, stockings, and a thong so I didn’t even have to change into something suitable for a spanking.
I laid down on the bed, raised my legs in the air and wrapped an arm around them to hold them in place. It’s easier said than done but I finally got into a secure position and I lifted the paddle. I didn’t want a warm up, I wanted to feel this paddle burn my cheeks. I wanted to feel the pain bite me. Since Stuart’s angry exit, I had been feeling kind of numb.
I raised the paddle high and wide and swung in with all the force I could muster.
CRACK! The paddle landed flush across my cheeks and bit hard into the soft flesh. Jesus that hurt. I brought the paddle back and swung in again, and again and again, setting up a steady tempo of spanks, smacks, cracks and swats all over my thighs and cheeks until my bottom was on fire with the heat. Everywhere throbbed all at the same time and my pussy was wet and hot and throbbing with need.
I spanked harder, I didn’t want to play, I wanted to hurt. I wanted that pain to make me feel real again. I was going to burst that bubble of emotional numbness baggage if it was the last thing I did. I spanked and spanked until I couldn’t lift the paddle to swing it.
The tears were conspicuous by their absence, I hadn’t shouted, yelped screamed, howled or any of the usual variety of pain filled noises I was want to come out with.I may have whimpered once or twice, I’m not superhuman! I was just hurting a lot. But not enough.
I climbed off the bed and stripped my dress off and I covered my bottom in chilli rub. Damn, damn, damn, that stuff is so bloody HOT! I stood in the corner of my bedroom for 10 minutes while the chilli rub settled into a searing heat, which did bring tears to my eyes but they didn’t fall. I cleared my mind of any and all thoughts and I just absorbed nothing but the pain. It was exquisitely, beautifully painful.
Ten minutes later I was back on the bed, legs in the air paddle in my left hand now and I spanked myself as hard as I could for as long as my arm would allow. The centre spot on each cheek was rock hard, the paddle had turned my bottom numb. My head was empty at last and I crawled up the bed to my pillows, inhaled Stuart’s scent and cried myself to sleep.
I woke three hours later to my alarm going off at 4pm. Early warning that the boy would be arriving home from college in 15 minutes.
I got up, washed my face, got dressed and went and sat downstairs in the kitchen on the hardest most uncomfortable chair I could find. My bottom was throbbing, my thighs were on fire and my pussy was singing. My head was empty of treacherous thoughts and I was back in my own zone again so I pasted a fuck off big smile on my face ready for the boy coming in.
I knew I would be fine… eventually.
All photos courtesy of the internet except the wooden paddles. Mine. 🙂
I have officially sworn off all things spanking after the final Graham spanking. My poor bottom is still black and blue and my thighs have pinstripes courtesy of that wicked cane and we are now 4 days after the event!
Okay, so it feels yummy now the pain has subsided and the throbbing has started and I’ve been hot and horny for days! But y’know this brings about it’s own problems when you don’t have a partner! D I Y spanking, D I Y play time, gotta say peeps, I’m all for it but just sometimes I need something more, my only point of call would have been Stuart and that is a whole load of complicated I really don’t need!
He is hot though, and he does want to… if I could just control the submissive thing around him. Unlikely, besides, he wants the whole relationship thing with a view to a long term future. Never again. Not ever. I would rather play nice with the vicar than do that again… Nooo! wash my mouth out and bleach my eyes, I just pictured that very hairy bottom again!
See? Spankings leave me in a total mess!
Anyway, I had just about got all my hot and horny stuff under control and back in its box when Stuart texted me and said he was local and was calling round to see me. Stuart knows the boy’s schedule better than I do, and he knew the boy was out all day in college. I couldn’t wriggle out of it. To be fair, I didn’t really want to, I just get so nervous when he’s around. I never know what’s going to happen these days!
I should have realised when I read the text, he was in strict mode. He hadn’t asked if he could come round, he had told me he was coming. He’s usually a lot more polite than that and always asks if I’m busy first. Not this time.
Ten minutes later he was ringing the door bell. I wandered up the hall and opened the door for him. He smiled, kind of, and I stood back to let him in. Once I had closed the door he got straight into it with me.
‘Had a call from Gray, he said he isn’t spanking you anymore?’
I was already walking back to the kitchen so I had my back to him. I just shrugged my shoulders and said ‘yep’.
Stuart walked in behind me and sat down at the table with his long legs stretched out and his arms folded across his chest. Damn, did I mention he’s hot?
I turned away from all those muscles and started making a brew.
‘What the hell did you do to make him so adamant he wasn’t going to spank you anymore?’ Stuart sounded cross! What on earth did he have to be cross about?
I turned on him, ‘Now just hang on a minute, why do you always assume it’s going to be something I’ve done?’ I could feel my temper rising.
He raised his eyebrow at me and his lip curled, ‘because it usually is?’
‘Huh, well it wasn’t me this time. Graham’s scared he is gonna hurt me, and quite frankly, so am I, so I’m all good with the fact that he doesn’t want to spank me anymore!’ I popped my own ‘miffed’ bubble. It wasn’t worth getting into an argument with Stuart, I would lose. Hands down!
‘You do know that doesn’t get you out of being spanked, don’t you?’ Damn he was pushing me! My ‘miffed’ bubble was re inflating! I put his cup of tea in front of him and sat facing him at the table with my own drink.
‘You just come here to give me grief, or was there an actual reason for your visit? Besides telling me off for Graham’s defection from your spanking team, that is!’ I can push too. I’m good at it.
Stuart grinned at me, it was the first time he had smiled properly since he had got here and I relaxed a little. Familiar territory at last! ‘What you grinning at?’ I smiled back at him.
‘I bought the most fantastic wood paddle online the other day and I knew I would be in your area today so I brought it with me. Lets face it, there is usually a list as long as my arm of stuff you need taking to task for, so I thought I could kill two birds with one stone and give you a spanking with the new paddle!’ He was GRINNING AT ME!
NO to the unexpected spanking! Just NO! Besides, I had already just decided I wasn’t doing the spanking thing anymore, hadn’t I? Not to mention I was still sporting some hefty Graham bruising in all my tender areas!
So, why was my bottom tingling? Jeez! No will power whatsoever! I wriggled on my seat and scowled at Stuart. ‘I don’t want a spanking thank you, I haven’t done anything at all to deserve one, and even if I had, I wouldn’t tell you!’
Stuart laughed out loud at my pouting lip, my sulky attitude and the idea that I thought I might have a say in the matter!
‘Oh Gem, you really are priceless! Graham told me about the Vicar and the Wilson’s incident at the supermarket you know. Personally I thought you were right and I wouldn’t have spanked you for it. I would have spanked you for arguing with me about it though. Anyway, it doesn’t matter because I am going to spank you today, call it a maintenance spanking if you want, but it’s going to happen!’
I was fuming! This was just not fair at all! I stood up from the table and refused to speak until I could form words that didn’t involve swear words. I didn’t want to give him a bloody reason to spank me, he was happy enough doing it without one as it was!
I decided to play to his softer side. ‘I still have a lot of bruising from Graham’s spanking, I don’t think I could take another one right now. My thighs are still sore and my bottom is very bruised Stu.’ I glanced at his face with my big sad cow eyes and … nothing. Not even a flicker of sympathy crossed his face! So I begged, kind of, I wheedled and whined but it was all to no avail.
Stuart stood up and came around the table to stand in front of me. He took my chin in his hand and smiled at me, ‘Oh come on Gem, we both know you are in the throbbing stages of that spanking now and if I know anything about you at all, I know you will have made full use of the beneficial side effects of it! You should have a spanking just for trying to con me!’
I was losing major ground due to close proximity with all those muscles and pheromones! My brain was pouring submissive oil all over itself ffs! I would not go down without a fight! I stamped my foot and pouted, (I know, I know, who the hell isthat woman?!) ‘I’m sore Stu, I’m bruised, look…’ I pushed him away from me and turned around and lifted my skirt so he could see Graham’s handy work for himself. I’m not conning you…’ I glanced over my shoulder at him and oh oh, I had just made a tactical error for sure.
Stuart reached a hand out and stroked my twin bruised globes, he stepped closer behind me and nuzzled my neck with his mouth as his fingers traced the cane welts still present on my thighs.
‘Damn Gem, he branded you baby!’ His breathing had changed and I could feel his erection pressing against my throbbing bottom and my pussy reacted instantly, she was singing that song right back at him! Full chorus! I had lost this fight, we both knew it, and a spanking from him right now would feel like heaven to all my hot throbbing places! His fingers squeezed and stroked my bottom and he turned my head so his mouth covered mine.
Gone! Done for. I had more chance of taking the faith and becoming a fucking nun than I did of refusing him whatever he wanted right now.
He broke the kiss and I leaned into the wall pushing my bottom out and into his stroking hands. He moved to the side of me and spoke quietly, ‘hold the position baby, it’s time.’ He reached for his coat and pulled out the paddle from his inside pocket. It was wide and round and big enough to cover my whole bottom, so both cheeks were going to catch it every single stroke! My bottom thrust itself out a little more as he came back around to my side.
‘Open your mouth Gem,’ I looked confused but I did as he said and opened my mouth. He placed the flat of the paddle between my teeth. ‘Close your mouth and do not drop my new paddle.’ His voice was stern, but his eyes were hot and I did as I was told and brought my teeth together around the edge of the paddle and gripped.
‘Good girl.’ His hand was stroking my bottom and then he lifted it and brought it down flat on my cheek in a light slap, quickly followed by a flurry of small light spanks all over my cheeks and a few on my thighs. My bottom and thighs and pussy were all tingling at the same time, and I moaned as I spread my legs a little for better balance.
Stuart found the edge of my thong and peeled it down over my warm cheeks leaving it stretched between my knees. ‘Don’t let that paddle fall, Gem.’
He began hand spanking me in earnest then, the smacks coming thick and fast all over both cheeks and I bit down on the paddle, I couldn’t yelp! I couldn’t OW! I couldn’t HOWL when he found a tender spot! I could only moan and squirm and bite that damn paddle! I wriggled and swayed my cheeks to try to redirect his spanks but he just chuckled at my paltry efforts and held me fast by the hips as he continued to rain spanks down covering my twin globes of cherry red and my hot thighs! I was in ecstasy and pure agony all at the same time. My brain was oozing pleasure endorphins into my psyche and I was getting perilously close to an orgasm. I pushed up harder against his down stroke and met his hand as it connected sharply, again and again and again. He stopped then, his hands smoothing over my skin, squeezing, stroking, petting and then his fingers slid along the wet crease of my pussy and pushed between the folds to find my swollen clit and I was lost. A few strokes and I came, hard. He stood so close behind me now I could feel his erection throbbing against my bottom as his fingers worked on me making me moan and wriggle and tremble. My legs were shaking, I had chills running up and down my body and I was in heaven!
Suddenly the paddle was gone from my mouth and was landing flush against my hot throbbing bottom! One, two, three, four…. OW OW OW OW!! I yelped, I danced as that paddle stung, bit, and sent waves of fire right the way across both cheeks! Oh jesus this was so much worse than a hairbrush!
‘You put teeth marks in my paddle Gem, that just earned you a good hard spanking lady!’ That paddle is evil! Personified! I was howling, yelping, the tears spilled and I was sobbing as it came down with crack after crack against my hot tender bruised rear. I pleaded with him, I promised him the earth if he would just stop spanking me, but he kept on, smoothing the paddle against my hot cheeks, rubbing it into them, then lifting and bringing it down sharply over the same spot until I had twin hard spots on my cheeks and the heat bloomed and spread everywhere, my pussy was throbbing in unison now and I was well on the way to my second orgasm, my body was on fire!
Finally he began to slow down and I knew we were getting close to the end of the spanking. I was quieter now, the tears were still flowing freely but my bottom had gone blessedly numb and all I could feel was the low insistent throbbing like a thick band across my cheeks and thighs and pussy.
Stuart put the paddle on the floor and then ran his hands over my cheeks, squeezing them, rubbing them, his fingers went on their own journey of discovery and he found what he was looking for. He pushed two fingers into the edge of my pussy and I pushed back onto them…
An hour later we were sat on the sofa in the lounge, we were both exhausted, utterly and completely spent but beautifully satisfied as I sat cradled on his naked lap with his big arms holding me inside them safely. I was hot and throbbing everywhere and I didn’t run away this time, I soaked it up. This had been a long time coming and I was happy and content now that it had finally happened.
No… A repeat performance was not on the cards. I am adamant, and for once, I kept my promise to myself!
All photographs courtesy of the Internet. Except the wooden paddles, they are now both mine! I kid you not. Both of them 😀
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[No cats were harmed in the making of this blog. They all love to be spanked.] Exploring the psychology 'behind' spanking through fiction and poetry. Because, nothing says 'I love you' better than a red, sore, bare bottom. Comments welcome and discussion encouraged. I believe spanking between consenting adults leads to closer and more intimate relationships. Spanking is not a kink, not a fetish, not a lifestyle, but rather, a healthy and honest means of communication. Let your mind free and respect will follow. Contact me email@example.com