I have not been writing here for a while,
since Miss V has been sick and not willing to have any contact with me. The
other day I couldn’t hold it any longer and I asked her to spank me. I
basically said that I wanted to experiment with spanking and needed her help.
“I don’t have time”, she responded. “I have
to go to work”.
“How long can it take to give me 30 on each
cheek?” I asked, a little frustrated. “You’ll be done in less than 2 minutes”.
“OK,” she said, with a surprised expression
I didn’t understand at the time. “Go to the bedroom.”
Even though her tone was not commanding in
the absolute and that I had asked for it, I felt a little twinge down there
when she said the words. I went to the room and she followed a couple minutes
later.
“Get your pants off,” she said. Another
twinge, more intense. “Do you want me to rotate between them or all at one
time?”
I didn’t want to tell her what to do any
more than I had already done, so I said that any way she preferred would be OK
with me.
“How should I position myself?” I asked.
There are not many options, because the room is quite crowded, but I could be
standing, leaning over the bed, as I stand when she takes me from behind, or I
could be on her lap, or flat on the bed.
She told me to be flat on the bed and I
did. I buried my face in a pillow, holding it with both hands while wondering how
hard she would go. I thought she would not go hard at all, to be honest, so
when the first hit with the silicone spatula landed, hard and burning, I was
pleasantly and unpleasantly surprised. Those of you that are spanked will
understand that the apparent contradiction is a normal part of the spanking
paradox.
I started counting them in my head, one, one,
two, two, three, three… She was alternating between cheeks, and a good thing
too, because they were stinging much more than I had anticipated.
“If you start bleeding, I’m going to stop,”
she said, sending a shiver up my spine, not a shiver of pleasure, but of fear.
Would she really make me bleed? I didn’t want to bleed… Or did I?
I was up to about 12 when I could not stand
it anymore, and I broke my silence, with some sound that may have been an
Ahhhh! And got out of position, turning around a little. Miss V. didn’t react
to that. No “Are you OK?” or “Is this too hard?” Nothing at all. She just
calmly waited for me to resume my position.
I fell back into the pillow as the
methodical twats continued. By that time, I had lost count and had no idea how
many I had left. That’s when I really submitted to my spanking. I just let it
happen, allowing it to go on and stop whenever V wanted. I didn’t even know
whether she was keeping count or not, or what that count was. I felt more
submissive than I have ever felt, at her mercy. At the same time, I didn’t know
how much longer I would be able to take it.
Suddenly, it stopped.
“Was that 30?” I asked when it became
apparent that no more hits were forthcoming. My voice cracked a little.
“Yes,” she responded casually. I thanked
her, and she laughed. She actually laughed, but I don’t know if it was because
of the absurdity of me thanking her for beating me, or because she thought that
I was thanking her for stopping. I let it go, not wanting to spoil the moment.
In the past, I have had a problem of not speaking my mind when I should, and
opening my mouth too often when I shouldn’t.
She walked away and I remained there, my
exposed behind burning, while a little argument inside my head between my
submissive and my fearful sides raged on. You probably know how it goes, but it
is something like this:
- - You are an idiot. What have you done?
- - But I want it!
- - Yeah? What if she likes it too much for your taste?
- - But I want it!
- - You don’t even have an erection, you fool!
- - But… But… But…
Yes, Submissive me is not too articulate.
Miss V came back and before I knew it she
was studying my red-hot-chili bottom. Quietly, she applied a cooling lotion all
over and then left. She didn’t say anything. Nothing at all.
The next time I saw her was late that night
when she came back from work. I was wearing a pair of pajama pants and she told
me to turn around so she could examine my bottom. She said that it was still
red, but no permanent damage had been caused. I assured her that the bottom had
enough padding and that I would be OK.
That’s when she explained that she had been
surprised when I asked for the spanking before she left for work, because she
had thought that I wanted the spanking as foreplay. She then asked me something
that surprised me.
“Do you spank yourself?”
I decided to be honest. I told her that
over the years I had tried to do it, but I was unable to derive satisfaction
from it because no matter how hard I tried, I could not do it hard enough (I
carefully omitted that when it really hurt, I chickened out). The fuller truth I
didn’t say is that when I was 8 years old, I took my pants off and tried to
spank myself by hand while my minuscule erection raged on. Even earlier, I must
have been 4 or 5 when I asked my grandfather in a dream to beat me up with his
belt.
She took it in stride.
The next day, she checked again, and
pronounced that it was still noticeable. I checked and couldn’t see it, but she
insisted.
Now that I got my 30 spanks and experienced
the exhilaration and the fear of it, I know for sure that even though I
fantasize about spanking, the threat of it would work as a deterrent. I am
formulating a plan to use spanking to develop healthy, positive habits.
And when I say “I’m formulating” I really
mean that I have the whole thing planned out, with a spreadsheet that
auto-calculates my demerits and how many spanks I get depending on me checking
or unchecking boxes. In truth, all that is needed is Miss V’s agreement to
spank me at least once a week, and her agreement/concurrence with the habits
and their demerit value.
To make it easier for her, I can reduce her
participation to the minimum, which is, apply the demerits. I can monitor, them
and just give her a number, like the 30 I gave her for the experiment. Of
course, she may refuse to do it, especially if I go with the spreadsheets and
checklists already made…
I have to go now. Fearful me is calling.
EDIT: Reading this, it sounds as if everything is all right, I was not yet aware of the magnitude of the problem we are having. Since writing this, my wife has told me that she does not want to have sex with me again, and that I should take care of my needs on my own, Something is fundamentally wrong with our relationship and I can't build an FLR over a flawed relationship. I'm going to have to figure out what the real root of the problems is, if it is beyond my wife's medical issues.
For what it's worth let me offer this. A woman cannot love what she doesn't respect. If you lose her respect, you will lose her heart. You need to find ways to scratch your sub itch without being so wimpy.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the advise. I'm mostly a fool, and don't really know how to handle my needs very well. I'm open to suggestions.
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