I love spankings.
On Wikipedia it says:
Spanking is a common form of corporal punishment, involving the act of striking the buttocks of another person to cause physical pain, generally with an open hand. More severe forms of spanking, such as switching, paddling, belting, caning, whipping, and birching, involve the use of an object instead of a hand.
Where I have experienced paddling, whipping and a bit of caning before, for the purpose of this post, I want to talk about spanking with an open hand.
There is something about it that has an incredible pull. I love an open-hand spanking, and thankfully have experienced it several times. Sometimes it was only a couple of strikes from Master T, but on some occasions (dates with Master R and Dena) I had such an intense spanking that my buttocks were not only red, but purple and bruised afterwards. Delicious!
When I close my eyes, I see… I feel…
I bent forward over a couch, a table, or the lap of the spanker, and immediately I am in the right headspace. A hand runs over the curve of my bottom, making me tense, then relax. I notice the warmth, but don’t know whether that comes from his hand or my body. The first strike is unexpected. Only one, making me clench my muscles, and the moment they relax again, a strike lands on my other buttock. This time I am slower to relax. When I do, a series of slaps alternately rain on my cheeks. I grimace. The pain is more than I remember. It’s a relief when he stops, but immediately there’s a pull deep inside me: I want more.
Each time his hand touches my body, I tense. Sometimes he strikes each cheek only once. Other times he doesn’t seem to stop, hitting first left, then right, left again, right, left, right, right left, left, right…
While he spanks me, I tense. I wait for it to be over; want it to be over. Each time he stops, I feel despair, not wanting it to be over. There are split seconds where I wonder how his hand is feeling. If my bottom feels like it’s on fire, then surely his hand must hurt too.
This is the first thought that seems to evaporate from my mind. Slowly but surely more thoughts follow… up to the point where I feel like I am in a void. There is nothing around me. No room. No people. It’s only me. The pain and me. Me and the pain. I hold on to the pain for as long as I can. It’s my anchor; something I can hold on to. But, I don’t want to hold on. I want to let go. I want to be free. I fight the last bits of trying to be in control, and then… I let go. I relax. The tension in my body is gone. I don’t fall; no, I float. I am light. I am free.
Somewhere deep in my mind, in a place I can’t reach; a place I don’t want to reach, I’m still aware of his hand striking my behind. It doesn’t hurt. Not anymore. I welcome it. Sometimes he stops, but the despair I felt earlier is gone too. Nothing can touch me where I am now. Nothing can upset me. Nothing can… nothing.
When he helps me up afterwards, I am again fully aware of my surroundings, but at the same time I’m not. My body and mind are filled with the most gloriously happy feeling I have ever experienced. I sit there, looking around, and it’s like I see my surroundings for the very first time. The people around me are beautiful. I want to feel like this forever.
It’s only when the floaty feeling wears off; when I am again fully aware of my surroundings and back in the present, that I feel the tenderness. My bottom is bruised, and where I sit, I can feel it. It brings a smile to my face, and every time after that for the same day and maybe even the next two, when I sit down, I feel it. I feel it and I smile, remembering the process of letting go of all control, remembering the pain… and already I’m longing for the next spanking.
I love spankings.
Note (added at the time of writing this on 21.04.2019): I have finally spoken to Master T about the things I miss. One of those things is spankings, and I have told him that there is someone who is willing to spank me on a frequent basis (once in 2-3 months). Master T agreed, and said I can contact this man, and as I am typing this now, I am waiting to hear when we will meet for a cup of coffee first, as we have never met each other in real life, but have been following each other for a couple of years.
Second note added on 10.05.2019: Unfortunately I have learned that the man I have approached can’t meet us, and won’t be able to spank me. I totally understand his reasons, but of course I am disappointed. Maybe someone else will come along. To be continued…
© Rebel’s Notes