A major lesson came my way tonight.

Never trust that a man will behave the way you expect him to, especially when that behaviour is set around spanking!

I have just returned from my spanking with Graham. It’s 9.45pm, I was there from 7pm and I am stone cold sober, my bottom is minus a good few layers of skin and I am in a world of pain I had no idea previously existed.

The pain threshold I thought I was building up over recent weeks is quite obviously woefully inadequate and still in its baby stages. It was stomped all over by 7.05pm.
I am glad Graham is gay, I would not want that man as a lover, he is relentless in his pursuit of pain and punishment and now because it appears I am seriously submissive around strong alpha male types, I will be getting another spanking from Graham before this one has had time to subside namely tomorrow night and I do deserve it, of that there can be no doubt.

I did this to myself you know, I am stupid beyond measure and I need to learn how to control my mouth, worse than that, Graham now knows about Stuart and our agreement and Graham is, well, lets just say furious doesn’t cover it. Hence the reason for my continuation spanking (that’s what he’s calling it) tomorrow night.

I have agreed to this, I fully accept that it must happen, even while my bottom and thighs are begging me to see sense and just say no. I could have as well, Graham wasn’t so far gone in his fury that he would not have honoured a decision from me to not take another spanking. I never even thought to refuse. I have lost my marbles, my good sense (at this point, it’s debatable whether I ever had any) and my feisty ‘fuck it’ attitude? All gone.

Let me backtrack to 7pm and my arrival at Graham’s house.

He was waiting at the door as I walked down the path. He watched me teeter down a gravel path in ridiculously high heels and he shook his head at me.

‘Why did you wear those? he pointed to my feet, ‘you do remember I’m gay and your attire will not impress me at all right?’

I made a complete error in judgement in that moment, I flipped him the bird and said very bitchily, ‘why would you think I did it for you? I did it for me. You may not give a damn but I do, besides I can wear what I want.’ I was still fuming from Stuart’s email and yes, I forgot it wasn’t Graham who had sent it and also that he had no idea Stuart existed at all. Therefore my attitude toward him was considered borderline nasty bitch as far as he was concerned and that set the tone for the evening.

He stepped back from the door and invited me in. He closed the door behind me and said, ‘You need an attitude adjustment, lady.’ Then I was propelled by the arm through to the lounge and before I could say a word I was over the arm of the sofa with my face stuck in a cushion, my bottom high and my feet off the ground! I heard his belt as it slid through his belt loops, my stomach flip flopped with a small frision of fear, and I tried to twist around to speak to him. He shook his head at me. No.

‘I wouldn’t speak again if I were you Gemma, your mouth has said enough already. Head down, you are taking 30 with my belt for your insolence, and if you move at all, I will start from the beginning again. The only sound I want to hear is you counting the strokes. I would advise you count loudly, I won’t be counting at all.’

And then my dress was raised above my hips and he was presented with a bare bottom framed by suspenders. Not creamy, no, still pink and sporting finger type bruises all over my cheeks.

He laid the belt across my cheeks hard, there was no build up, no easing in to it, it was delivered so fast I didn’t even know it was coming until it had landed and had been pulled back for the next one. I squealed and shouted one.

‘Oh Gemma, you can forget the count, this shit just got real for you, you have no fucking right to take a spanking from someone else when you had already committed to having me spank you, you made me wait two weeks to deliver mine? You are going to regret that decision sweetheart I can promise you.’

With that, he laid that belt full force across my bottom and thighs for 10 whole minutes. I think the only reason he stopped was because his arm ached. I was screaming, sobbing, howling with the pain and I didn’t dare move out of position for fear of him starting all over again. Finally I heard rather than saw the belt land on the wooden floor by my feet.

‘Get up.’ Graham’s clipped tone did nothing to ease my concerns about how bad this evening was going to be, but it was my own fault. I should never have let Stuart spank me last night, it wasn’t fair and it wasn’t right. I had agreed to be spanked by Graham and he had been so patient, waiting for my bottom to heal and become creamy again.

I stood up from the arm of the sofa with difficulty. I made to smooth my dress down over my bottom and he immediately forbade me to cover up.

‘Leave the dress alone, go and stand over there in the corner and spread your legs wide, push your bottom out and put your hands on the wall. You will remain in that position until I tell you to move.’

I rushed over to the corner of the room and did as I was told. I was sobbing uncontrollably now, my bottom and thighs were on fire and they hurt so much! Roughly five minutes passed before Graham spoke from behind me.

‘Those handprints on your backside are man sized. Who spanked you Gemma?’ I could hear the frustration, anger, and jealousy in his tone, yes he was jealous because someone else had gotten there before him. It must be a man thing, I don’t know.

My stubborn attitude will be my eventual down fall, I never know when to cut my losses and take the lesser evil. It feels weak to me.

I refused to answer and that was when the caning began. He asked me the question again, I shook my head and wouldn’t say who it was, he delivered 6 full force with the cane across the back of my legs, my thighs, my bottom. I didn’t know where I didn’t hurt. After the fourth set of 6 I caved in. I couldn’t take another stroke! I was in agony! I screamed and told him I would tell him if he would just stop caning me. The cane was placed on a hook right in front of me on the wall. Dispicable object.

I held my position and I talked to the wall. I told him about my evening with Stuart, how I had a very strange submissive reaction to him each time I was in his company. I explained about the taxi, the lift home, the spanking machine on the table, then the compromise I had made, then the eventual spanking and then first the note and then the email this evening. Graham was now fully up to speed with my current situation of too many spankers animate and inanimate, and not enough bottom to go around.

Graham was beyond furious, he was white lipped with temper and he removed himself from the room for a good hour. I was left under orders to remain exactly as I was and before he left he rubbed something really nasty into my skin, it burnt like hell! He put the little pot of torture in front of me and I saw it was chilli muscle rub, oh god, this is what Stuart is going to use at the weekend. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. It burns like nothing else, especially on very sore skin. It is utterly unbearable, and then my tears flowed in earnest.

It was a good hour before Graham reappeared in the lounge. He still wasn’t speaking to me and I was still crying, more quietly now, but I was still in a lot of pain. This was like no other spanking I had ever received. It made the spankings with Mr Wilson seem like a walk in the park by comparison.

Finally Graham came and stood behind me, he ran his hands over my thighs and bottom, he felt the welts, the heat, the twin hard spots in the centre of each cheek and with a sigh he moved away from me.

‘Straighten your clothing Gemma, we are done here tonight. We shall have to continue this spanking tomorrow evening when I have calmed down sufficiently that I won’t go too far and really hurt you. I have never been so angry, disappointed and utterly dismayed with another human being’s behaviour. You really are totally out of control and as selfish a person as I have ever met. Go home, but you will report back here tomorrow evening at 7pm wearing suitable footwear, underwear, and sporting a very changed attitude and then you will receive your continuation spanking and I will spank you until I think you have learnt a lesson you will never forget.’

I straightened up from the wall, I rearranged my dress and I turned around to look at him. I was still crying and he just looked on me, not coldly, but aloofly. It cut me to the quick to see him look at me like that.

Regardless of my situation I had to know why he had gone so nuts on my ass. He’s gay, I didn’t think he would be jealous, I could understand the feeling of being cheated out of a prize and being made to wait for two weeks had made him angry, but why jealous?

He looked at me and shrugged his big shoulders, ‘I don’t know Gemma, perhaps I was looking forward to this evening more than you were. It would appear you will allow just about anyone who comes along, a good spanking session with you, with little or no restraint on your part. It makes me angry, that’s all I can tell you.’

His description of me shocked me to the core and after he had made me agree to a return visit tomorrow evening, which he made me sign a note for, I left and came home. I am sitting (very gingerly) here now, still crying, somewhat in shock at the turn the evening took and deeply, deeply ashamed of myself. I need to do some serious thinking. This is all going too far and I am as Graham said, completely out of control.

I’m going for a cold shower to wash of this dreadful chilli rub and then I’m going to apply as much aloe vera cream to my poor, poor bruised and punished skin as I can get on to it and then I am going to bed to cry myself to sleep.

I am so fucking stupid! I deserved everything I got tonight and I will deserve the same again tomorrow. Perhaps Graham is the one who will teach me that much needed lesson after all.